Comment fic = still awesome.
Another 3,719 words of comment fic. Between this and kinkmeme, I may never have to think of my own story lines again. :) We'll go with a general R on this, too.
Boot Sequence: Robotic!Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, He names his first prototype Cameron
//initialising
...
...
...
//program booted
//input type: name
//name.full = cameron mitchell
//name.preferred = cam
...
...
...
//command accepted
John sits back and watches with a mixture of excitement and worry as he finishes the final input. The programming is perfect, the design pretty much flawless, and the only way it's really going to fail is if the guy he'd hired to actually build the thing had fucked it up, and John's heard good things about Rodney McKay's work, so he's really not that worried.
He's just... apprehensive. If this works, it will revolutionise... everything, pretty much.
John holds his breath and flicks the tiny switch on the prototype's shoulder before settling the skinlike covering back over it. The prototype blinks it eyes, long lashes fluttering against its cheeks, and looks up at John.
"Hey," it says in a gentle Southern drawl. "Cameron Mitchell. Cam." It holds its hand out for John to shake, and as John takes it, he feels the smile spread arosss his face.
"John Sheppard," he replies, shaking Cam's hand firmly. "And wow, let me tell you, I've been waiting a long time to meet you."
Leader: Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, Mitchell is made expedition leader instead of Carter
"Seriously?"
Rodney is furious in a way that John's never seen before, red from tip to toe, and it looks like he's only keeping himself from hitting the thing nearest to him because it's his laptop.
"I mean, it's bad enough that they're putting some sort of grunt in charge of our base instead of respecting the Expedition's original intentions, but for the IOA to choose him, of all people-"
"I like him," John interjects mildly, mostly just to egg Rodney on. It's fun to do upon occasion.
"You would," Rodney sneers. "He's one of you. He's - he's one of your insane, suicidal pilot buddies, a guy who just loves to sit himself in a speeding death bullet and launch himself into space without any semblance of control-"
"It's expertly controlled," a voice cuts in, and it's honey and sun, light and warm. John turns and grins, because Cam's early. Rodney shuts his mouth, but he's clearly not done fuming. "Hey, McKay, Sheppard. Where'm I staying?"
John stands and wonders for a split-second if maybe it would have been better if Rodney had gotten his whole rant out before Cam had shown up, because then maybe John could have prepared him a little. Ah well, John thinks, maybe it's just better to get it over with all at once.
"With me, I'd assumed," he says, leaning in to brush their lips together. "Unless you wanted your own quarters?"
"Nah," Cam grins, wrapping one arm around John's waist and tugging him in close. "So long as you've got a bigger bed now than last time I was here, I'm more than okay with that plan."
John can see Rodney's face from the corner of his eye. He's absolutely, absolutely still, and the red has drained to white, but it slides back to red as John watches.
"I have words," Rodney says evenly. "They're pretty angry, though, so I'm going to save them for later." With that, he hurries from the room.
Cam turns to face John. "I'm assuming he still hates me?"
"It's possible," John admits. "Sorry. I meant to work on that."
"Is it going to be a problem?"
John considers the question. "Probably not after a month or so."
"Good," Cam grins, leaning forward to catch John's mouth in a proper kiss. "Now, about those quarters of ours..."
Gone: Lorne/Parrish, (Runner AU) The wraith Parrish finds isn't dead, and Lorne loses someone important to him when they were only just starting.
It's only later that Evan has the chance to shake apart at the seams. Later, after, when he's not shooting a Wraith through the head, not dropping to his knees beside the man he'd just started to maybe love, not holding David to him and begging him to hang on, not watching as David's trembling lips try to smile or as his withered hand raises a little towards Evan's face, not choking out a sob as David's eyes close and his chest stills.
It's later, it's after, it's too much, because David is gone.
Time: John/Cam, a universe in which Cam was part of the Atlantis team
Cam's always had this rule about not getting involved with people he works with, but it's not like he has a choice that first year on Atlantis. It's either someone he works with or one of the Athosians, and they're nice enough, but he's pretty much only just learned about other planets and aliens and whatever, so he's not sure he's really ready to sleep with one of them.
He gets by well enough on his own for a while; he's had postings in the middle of Godforsaken nowhere before, so he's well enough used to his right hand and a wad of tissues when he needs the release. It's easy enough for him to close his eyes and pretend someone else is there with him.
But it really isn't easy, not when he starts picturing a specific someone, not when that someone is as tall as Cam is with spiky dark hair and green eyes and a casual smirk, not when he's on Cam's own damn team, because Sheppard is just fucking impossible to ignore and Cam is going to go out of his goddamned mind, working with him.
Except Cam sometimes catches Sheppard glancing at him when there's no reason for him to, smirking at him over some joke made at his own expense, standing a little closer than buddies stand, and his fantasies are getting more and more out of hand.
It's what he blames, anyway, when Sheppard turns to him in the hallway when they're on their way from the gym to the showers and Cam just crowds him into the wall and kisses him with his whole body, hard and full, before he breaks away.
"Fuck," Cam breathes out, stumbling a few feet backwards, needing to put some space between them before he does something else monumentally stupid-
-like kissing Sheppard back when the man follows him, like gripping Sheppard's hips in his hands and lining their bodies up, like groaning into Sheppard's mouth or letting his eyes flutter shut.
"About damn time," Sheppard mutters against his mouth when they break apart, and Cam has to laugh, because it really is.
Brothers: Todd, Giving John back his life force aged and nearly killed Todd.
He is weak, weaker than he expected he would be after the transfer. He does not let this weakness show to John Sheppard or the others, but he feels it nonetheless, and as soon as the Lantean steps through the Stargate he falls to the ground and trembles.
He had spoken the truth to John Sheppard: the Gift is not something given frequently, nor lightly. He cannot recall the last time the Gift was given to a human, other than one of their followers, and his memory is long and vivid. It could be that he is the first to give such a Gift.
And yet, even as he lies on the ground, shaking with age and weariness, feeling his own death approaching, he finds that he feels no shame or guilt in the act, in doing what his fellows would consider treachery. Giving the Gift will certainly be his last act in his life, unless another human happens along shortly, but John Sheppard might prove a useful ally in the future.
If he can survive this.
He is weak, weaker than he expected he would be, and yet, he finds that he does not regret it.
Read My Mind: Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, Psychic Warriors
The fight seems to drag on for years, though it's probably only a matter of minutes before Cam's hand drops to his side and he wavers on his feet. John's no better beside him; he actually stumbles forward a little, and it's only because Cam's expecting it that he's able to reach out and snag the back of John's jacket in time. He'd taken a hell of a beating in there.
The Others, though, they're on the ground and they're not moving, and the longer Cam watches the more he thinks dead instead of just unconscious. Good. It's less messy when they don't have to resort to physical violence.
Well, real-world physical violence, at least; the mental world they'd created had seen more than its fair share of bloodshed tonight. These Others had been trained to fight with their minds as well as their bodies, and Cam groans as he realises this means that there will be more like this.
It had been easy, at first, to take out the Others; they'd had no way to prepare for the kind of warfare encountered in a psychic battle, no way to even really fight in one. The first year had been almost a cakewalk.
They'd learned, though, learned how to manipulate the mental world and sidestep mental blocks, and the past few months have gotten more difficult way more quickly than Cam had thought they would. It's getting harder and harder to bounce back from each fight, and it's taking its toll on them.
On John, especially, and Cam knows that John can feel the worry rolling of him but he doesn't try to hide it. He and John are bonded, brothers in the fight and partners in the home, and there's nothing that they can hide from each other. There's nothing Cam wants to hide from John.
"Just give me a minute," John says, and Cam feels him push the pain and the exhaustion away as he slowly straightens up. Finally, he rolls his shoulders and offers a half-smile. He doesn't say I'm okay, doesn't offer up any reassurances, because Cam won't believe the words. "Let's go."
Cam nods and grabs John's hand, threading their fingers together as he taps his locator beacon, and a second later, they fade away in a flash of light.
Clothes: Cam/John, borrowing a sweat-shirt
Cam doesn't even notice it until Sam squints across the mess hall and asks, "Is Sheppard wearing your sweatshirt?"
And yeah, he is, Cam realises as he follows Sam's gaze. John's hair is wet, and he'd said he was going to the gym earlier, which explains the change of clothing, too. "Um," Cam finally replies. "Maybe?"
Sam snorts and digs into her jello cup. "You two are cute," she says lightly, smiling widely when Cam sputters.
John sets a tray down next to Cam and looks from him to Sam and back. "Do I even want to know?"
Sam dissolves into a fit of laughter as Cam grabs a fistful of his sweatshirt and hauls John close. "Mine," he says, meaning the shirt, but John smiles and leans the last few inches in and kisses him.
"Sure," John replies, leaning back, and Cam has to smile. Yeah, John's his, too.
Haunted: Cam/John, Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here
Cam wakes up sweating, shaking, and it takes a moment for him to recognise his own bedroom and the voice murmuring into his ear.
"Hey," John says, soft and careful, and his hand ghosts over Cam's arm. "You back with me?"
"Sorry," Cam gasps, and he fights the nausea that rises again as the images flash through his head women children dead blood on your hands dead your fault dead.
"What can I do?" John sounds at once desperate and resigned, and Cam feels a little bit worse for it, because John wants so badly to help but there's nothing he can do and they both know it. "Please," he adds, and Cam can hear the raw need there, how John has to be the one to carry the crosses, but he doesn't know how to hand this off.
Cam just flips over and curls into John's chest, settling his head over John's heart and closing his eyes and listening to the steady thump thump thump under his ear until he can get a thought through his head. He can't talk about it, can't bring the words to the air, but John knows enough from the mission report to not ask. It's killing Cam, the weight of the innocents around his neck, and no matter how many bad guys he kills he can't lighten the load. He doesn't know what there is to do.
"I'm sorry," he says into the darkness at some point when he thinks John's asleep, but John curls his arm tightly around Cam's shoulders and buries his face in Cam's hair and they stay awake together, keeping Cam from the nightmares that will eventually catch up with him again.
Forgive Yourself: Cam/John, it wasn't your fault
John doesn't know how to help, can't figure out what to say or do when Cam wakes up gasping and shaking from the nightmares that won't let him be. All John can do is talk, low and meaningless, platitudes that don't mean a damn thing, until Cam's eyes focus and he comes back to the world.
"There's gotta be something I can do," John says, just like he does every night, and Cam turns and sets his head over John's heart and his hand on John's stomach and waits out the tremors, as he always responds.
"Talk to me," Cam mumbles, and it's the first time he's requested anything after one of these episodes, so John opens his mouth and says the first thing that crosses his mind.
"It wasn't your fault, Cam."
Cam tenses and makes to pull back, but John has an arm around his back, so Cam doesn't end up going anywhere. John lets the words settle for a minute before he goes on.
"I'm not telling you to forget about it, but you need to at least try to accept it," he tries to explain, knowing he's the worst person for this job, knowing that nothing he says is going to make any of this better. "Nobody blames you, Cam. Only you. It wasn't your fault."
Cam doesn't say anything for a long time, and John would think he's gone back to sleep but he knows better. Cam never falls back to sleep on nights like this. Finally, well over an hour later, he replies.
"There was nothing I could have done."
"No," John agrees. "There wasn't."
"It sucks."
"Yeah."
There's more silence, and the Cam turns his head a little and kisses John's chest, just above his heart. "Thank you."
John just rubs his thumb over Cam's shoulder, slow and even, and he can feel Cam drop into sleep not long after.
What I'm Here For: Cam/John, You Are Not Alone
John shows up on Cam's doorstep, trembling and exhausted-looking, and when Cam opens the door John blurts, "I owe my life to a fucking Wraith," walks in, and leans against the wall in Cam's hallway like if he moves everything will come crumbling down around him.
Cam closes and locks the door, and when he turns John hasn't moved. Cam puts a hesitant hand on his shoulder and John slumps just that much further, and then he's leaning into Cam, and Cam's supporting most of his weight as John wraps his arms around Cam's waist and clings tightly.
It's a while before Cam tries to pull back, and it's just so he can sling his arm around John's waist and walk him into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He sits John on the bed and kneels, removing boots and peeling off clothing until John's left in his boxers. Cam strips off his own clothing quickly and climbs into the bed, arranging himself behind John's body, draping an arm over John's waist.
John threads his fingers through the hand on his stomach and slowly moves it up his chest, settling it near his heart. Cam can feel the mark beneath his palm as John haltingly recounts his capture and torture and escape, and when he's done he falls silent.
Cam catalogues his emotions, packs them up, and stores them for later; now is for helping John. He presses his palm firmly over the mark on John's chest and a kiss to the back of his shoulder.
"I love you," he says simply. "And if I have to thank a Wraith for the fact that you're still alive, then so be it."
John makes a choking sound, and Cam strokes his thumb slowly over the raised line in the center of the handprint. "I know you hate it," he continues quietly. "I can't imagine being happy about it in your shoes, but it's easier to be thankful than to think about hearing second- or third-hand that you'd died at the hands of that psychopath, John."
John doesn't say anything, and Cam feels him shaking again. It's John's version of crying, of letting it out, so Cam doesn't say anything either, just continues moving his thumb over the mark on John's chest until John's finally, finally still beside him.
"I can't ever thank him," John says, quietly but with conviction. "I can't, Cam."
"I know," Cam replies softly. "That's what I'm here for."
Fear: human!Michael & Carson, is he still a monster?
Carson sees how Ronon regards Michael Kenmore, sees how he hates the man for the monster he was, sees how Teyla tries to befriend him, sees how John and Rodney and Elizabeth all lie to him so easily, and it makes his stomach twist. In his own way, at least Ronon has never lied to the... man? Wraith? Carson isn't certain, and he wishes, not for the first time, that he'd been able to properly test the serum on Ellia. It would have prevented a lot of these problems, he knows, would have saved Zaddik and his family a lot of heartache, but above that it would have been easier to deal with the transformation of a little girl than an adult male.
Carson himself isn't sure what to think. When Michael's been sedated, when he's had his injections, he's completely and fully human, but right before Carson administers each dose of the retrovirus he can see something not quite right in Michael's eyes, like he's starting to get his old mind back. In those moments, Carson is afraid, afraid of what Michael would do if he were ever to get out of here.
It's unlikely, unlikely that Michael will ever discover what he was, that he will ever be allowed out of the sight of his guards, and yet Carson can't help but fear the monster that Michael might yet become again.
Not Where I Thougt You Were Going With That: Cam/John, didn't see that coming
When John asks if they can talk, Cam's stomach does a funny little flip because he does it on the way home, which is as neutral as their ground gets. It's not work, and it's not home; it's in the car, on the way from one to the other, and Cam can't help the thoughts that run through his head when he turns to face John and sees the look on his face - a little nervous, a little dreading, and completely serious.
Cam pulls into a parking lot of some random restaurant and takes a deep breath. John's been quiet lately, hasn't wanted to go out and do things, and Cam's been wondering about it but trying to not put too much stock in it. And then John had left the other day for hours, hadn't let Cam know where he was going, and had refused to talk about it afterward.
Cam's pretty sure John's about to leave him, so after he turns the car off he leans into John and grabs him behind the head, drawing him close and kissing him with everything he's ever felt for the other man, love and fear and worry and affection and lust and more love, and when he pulls back John's smiling.
"Wasn't expecting that," he says. "Well, I sort of was, I guess, but not yet."
And now Cam's confused, because that doesn't make a damn bit of sense, but then John's reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little bag, the kind you get at the jeweller's, and he's pressing it into Cam's hand. Cam slowly upends the bag over his palm, and two simple gold bands fall out and rest against his skin. Cam stares at them for a minute before he looks up at John, whose face is reflecting nerves again.
"I've been thinking," he says quietly. "We've been together for the better part of fifteen years. I'm pretty convinced I'm not going to suddenly change my mind at this point, and I'd like to think you're not going to, either."
Cam nods, and John flashes him a smile. "We can, now, y'know? And we don't have to make it official official, with papers and a lawyer or anything, but..."
His voice drifts off, and Cam thinks it's the most heartfelt thing he's ever heard anyone say. He closes his hand around the rings in his palm and reaches up with his other hand to cup John's face, brushing his thumb across the other man's lips. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
There's a hint of color in John's cheeks as he mumbles against Cam's thumb. "I guess I am, yeah."
"God, I love you," Cam laughs, and he leans in to kiss John again, fierce and passionate, before opening his hand and staring down at the rings. One's a little bigger, and Cam's not really that surprised to find that it fits him perfectly when John picks it up and slips it onto Cam's finger. John's fits him just as well, snug without being too tight. Cam looks at it on John's hand, the universal symbol of taken, married, loved, cherished, and all he can do is smile.
John laughs suddenly. "Did we just get married in the parking lot of a Waffle House?"
Cam looks out the windshield and joins in John's laughter as he sees the bright yellow building in front of them. "I believe we did, yes."
:D
Boot Sequence: Robotic!Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, He names his first prototype Cameron
//initialising
...
...
...
//program booted
//input type: name
//name.full = cameron mitchell
//name.preferred = cam
...
...
...
//command accepted
John sits back and watches with a mixture of excitement and worry as he finishes the final input. The programming is perfect, the design pretty much flawless, and the only way it's really going to fail is if the guy he'd hired to actually build the thing had fucked it up, and John's heard good things about Rodney McKay's work, so he's really not that worried.
He's just... apprehensive. If this works, it will revolutionise... everything, pretty much.
John holds his breath and flicks the tiny switch on the prototype's shoulder before settling the skinlike covering back over it. The prototype blinks it eyes, long lashes fluttering against its cheeks, and looks up at John.
"Hey," it says in a gentle Southern drawl. "Cameron Mitchell. Cam." It holds its hand out for John to shake, and as John takes it, he feels the smile spread arosss his face.
"John Sheppard," he replies, shaking Cam's hand firmly. "And wow, let me tell you, I've been waiting a long time to meet you."
Leader: Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, Mitchell is made expedition leader instead of Carter
"Seriously?"
Rodney is furious in a way that John's never seen before, red from tip to toe, and it looks like he's only keeping himself from hitting the thing nearest to him because it's his laptop.
"I mean, it's bad enough that they're putting some sort of grunt in charge of our base instead of respecting the Expedition's original intentions, but for the IOA to choose him, of all people-"
"I like him," John interjects mildly, mostly just to egg Rodney on. It's fun to do upon occasion.
"You would," Rodney sneers. "He's one of you. He's - he's one of your insane, suicidal pilot buddies, a guy who just loves to sit himself in a speeding death bullet and launch himself into space without any semblance of control-"
"It's expertly controlled," a voice cuts in, and it's honey and sun, light and warm. John turns and grins, because Cam's early. Rodney shuts his mouth, but he's clearly not done fuming. "Hey, McKay, Sheppard. Where'm I staying?"
John stands and wonders for a split-second if maybe it would have been better if Rodney had gotten his whole rant out before Cam had shown up, because then maybe John could have prepared him a little. Ah well, John thinks, maybe it's just better to get it over with all at once.
"With me, I'd assumed," he says, leaning in to brush their lips together. "Unless you wanted your own quarters?"
"Nah," Cam grins, wrapping one arm around John's waist and tugging him in close. "So long as you've got a bigger bed now than last time I was here, I'm more than okay with that plan."
John can see Rodney's face from the corner of his eye. He's absolutely, absolutely still, and the red has drained to white, but it slides back to red as John watches.
"I have words," Rodney says evenly. "They're pretty angry, though, so I'm going to save them for later." With that, he hurries from the room.
Cam turns to face John. "I'm assuming he still hates me?"
"It's possible," John admits. "Sorry. I meant to work on that."
"Is it going to be a problem?"
John considers the question. "Probably not after a month or so."
"Good," Cam grins, leaning forward to catch John's mouth in a proper kiss. "Now, about those quarters of ours..."
Gone: Lorne/Parrish, (Runner AU) The wraith Parrish finds isn't dead, and Lorne loses someone important to him when they were only just starting.
It's only later that Evan has the chance to shake apart at the seams. Later, after, when he's not shooting a Wraith through the head, not dropping to his knees beside the man he'd just started to maybe love, not holding David to him and begging him to hang on, not watching as David's trembling lips try to smile or as his withered hand raises a little towards Evan's face, not choking out a sob as David's eyes close and his chest stills.
It's later, it's after, it's too much, because David is gone.
Time: John/Cam, a universe in which Cam was part of the Atlantis team
Cam's always had this rule about not getting involved with people he works with, but it's not like he has a choice that first year on Atlantis. It's either someone he works with or one of the Athosians, and they're nice enough, but he's pretty much only just learned about other planets and aliens and whatever, so he's not sure he's really ready to sleep with one of them.
He gets by well enough on his own for a while; he's had postings in the middle of Godforsaken nowhere before, so he's well enough used to his right hand and a wad of tissues when he needs the release. It's easy enough for him to close his eyes and pretend someone else is there with him.
But it really isn't easy, not when he starts picturing a specific someone, not when that someone is as tall as Cam is with spiky dark hair and green eyes and a casual smirk, not when he's on Cam's own damn team, because Sheppard is just fucking impossible to ignore and Cam is going to go out of his goddamned mind, working with him.
Except Cam sometimes catches Sheppard glancing at him when there's no reason for him to, smirking at him over some joke made at his own expense, standing a little closer than buddies stand, and his fantasies are getting more and more out of hand.
It's what he blames, anyway, when Sheppard turns to him in the hallway when they're on their way from the gym to the showers and Cam just crowds him into the wall and kisses him with his whole body, hard and full, before he breaks away.
"Fuck," Cam breathes out, stumbling a few feet backwards, needing to put some space between them before he does something else monumentally stupid-
-like kissing Sheppard back when the man follows him, like gripping Sheppard's hips in his hands and lining their bodies up, like groaning into Sheppard's mouth or letting his eyes flutter shut.
"About damn time," Sheppard mutters against his mouth when they break apart, and Cam has to laugh, because it really is.
Brothers: Todd, Giving John back his life force aged and nearly killed Todd.
He is weak, weaker than he expected he would be after the transfer. He does not let this weakness show to John Sheppard or the others, but he feels it nonetheless, and as soon as the Lantean steps through the Stargate he falls to the ground and trembles.
He had spoken the truth to John Sheppard: the Gift is not something given frequently, nor lightly. He cannot recall the last time the Gift was given to a human, other than one of their followers, and his memory is long and vivid. It could be that he is the first to give such a Gift.
And yet, even as he lies on the ground, shaking with age and weariness, feeling his own death approaching, he finds that he feels no shame or guilt in the act, in doing what his fellows would consider treachery. Giving the Gift will certainly be his last act in his life, unless another human happens along shortly, but John Sheppard might prove a useful ally in the future.
If he can survive this.
He is weak, weaker than he expected he would be, and yet, he finds that he does not regret it.
Read My Mind: Cameron Mitchell/John Sheppard, Psychic Warriors
The fight seems to drag on for years, though it's probably only a matter of minutes before Cam's hand drops to his side and he wavers on his feet. John's no better beside him; he actually stumbles forward a little, and it's only because Cam's expecting it that he's able to reach out and snag the back of John's jacket in time. He'd taken a hell of a beating in there.
The Others, though, they're on the ground and they're not moving, and the longer Cam watches the more he thinks dead instead of just unconscious. Good. It's less messy when they don't have to resort to physical violence.
Well, real-world physical violence, at least; the mental world they'd created had seen more than its fair share of bloodshed tonight. These Others had been trained to fight with their minds as well as their bodies, and Cam groans as he realises this means that there will be more like this.
It had been easy, at first, to take out the Others; they'd had no way to prepare for the kind of warfare encountered in a psychic battle, no way to even really fight in one. The first year had been almost a cakewalk.
They'd learned, though, learned how to manipulate the mental world and sidestep mental blocks, and the past few months have gotten more difficult way more quickly than Cam had thought they would. It's getting harder and harder to bounce back from each fight, and it's taking its toll on them.
On John, especially, and Cam knows that John can feel the worry rolling of him but he doesn't try to hide it. He and John are bonded, brothers in the fight and partners in the home, and there's nothing that they can hide from each other. There's nothing Cam wants to hide from John.
"Just give me a minute," John says, and Cam feels him push the pain and the exhaustion away as he slowly straightens up. Finally, he rolls his shoulders and offers a half-smile. He doesn't say I'm okay, doesn't offer up any reassurances, because Cam won't believe the words. "Let's go."
Cam nods and grabs John's hand, threading their fingers together as he taps his locator beacon, and a second later, they fade away in a flash of light.
Clothes: Cam/John, borrowing a sweat-shirt
Cam doesn't even notice it until Sam squints across the mess hall and asks, "Is Sheppard wearing your sweatshirt?"
And yeah, he is, Cam realises as he follows Sam's gaze. John's hair is wet, and he'd said he was going to the gym earlier, which explains the change of clothing, too. "Um," Cam finally replies. "Maybe?"
Sam snorts and digs into her jello cup. "You two are cute," she says lightly, smiling widely when Cam sputters.
John sets a tray down next to Cam and looks from him to Sam and back. "Do I even want to know?"
Sam dissolves into a fit of laughter as Cam grabs a fistful of his sweatshirt and hauls John close. "Mine," he says, meaning the shirt, but John smiles and leans the last few inches in and kisses him.
"Sure," John replies, leaning back, and Cam has to smile. Yeah, John's his, too.
Haunted: Cam/John, Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here
Cam wakes up sweating, shaking, and it takes a moment for him to recognise his own bedroom and the voice murmuring into his ear.
"Hey," John says, soft and careful, and his hand ghosts over Cam's arm. "You back with me?"
"Sorry," Cam gasps, and he fights the nausea that rises again as the images flash through his head women children dead blood on your hands dead your fault dead.
"What can I do?" John sounds at once desperate and resigned, and Cam feels a little bit worse for it, because John wants so badly to help but there's nothing he can do and they both know it. "Please," he adds, and Cam can hear the raw need there, how John has to be the one to carry the crosses, but he doesn't know how to hand this off.
Cam just flips over and curls into John's chest, settling his head over John's heart and closing his eyes and listening to the steady thump thump thump under his ear until he can get a thought through his head. He can't talk about it, can't bring the words to the air, but John knows enough from the mission report to not ask. It's killing Cam, the weight of the innocents around his neck, and no matter how many bad guys he kills he can't lighten the load. He doesn't know what there is to do.
"I'm sorry," he says into the darkness at some point when he thinks John's asleep, but John curls his arm tightly around Cam's shoulders and buries his face in Cam's hair and they stay awake together, keeping Cam from the nightmares that will eventually catch up with him again.
Forgive Yourself: Cam/John, it wasn't your fault
John doesn't know how to help, can't figure out what to say or do when Cam wakes up gasping and shaking from the nightmares that won't let him be. All John can do is talk, low and meaningless, platitudes that don't mean a damn thing, until Cam's eyes focus and he comes back to the world.
"There's gotta be something I can do," John says, just like he does every night, and Cam turns and sets his head over John's heart and his hand on John's stomach and waits out the tremors, as he always responds.
"Talk to me," Cam mumbles, and it's the first time he's requested anything after one of these episodes, so John opens his mouth and says the first thing that crosses his mind.
"It wasn't your fault, Cam."
Cam tenses and makes to pull back, but John has an arm around his back, so Cam doesn't end up going anywhere. John lets the words settle for a minute before he goes on.
"I'm not telling you to forget about it, but you need to at least try to accept it," he tries to explain, knowing he's the worst person for this job, knowing that nothing he says is going to make any of this better. "Nobody blames you, Cam. Only you. It wasn't your fault."
Cam doesn't say anything for a long time, and John would think he's gone back to sleep but he knows better. Cam never falls back to sleep on nights like this. Finally, well over an hour later, he replies.
"There was nothing I could have done."
"No," John agrees. "There wasn't."
"It sucks."
"Yeah."
There's more silence, and the Cam turns his head a little and kisses John's chest, just above his heart. "Thank you."
John just rubs his thumb over Cam's shoulder, slow and even, and he can feel Cam drop into sleep not long after.
What I'm Here For: Cam/John, You Are Not Alone
John shows up on Cam's doorstep, trembling and exhausted-looking, and when Cam opens the door John blurts, "I owe my life to a fucking Wraith," walks in, and leans against the wall in Cam's hallway like if he moves everything will come crumbling down around him.
Cam closes and locks the door, and when he turns John hasn't moved. Cam puts a hesitant hand on his shoulder and John slumps just that much further, and then he's leaning into Cam, and Cam's supporting most of his weight as John wraps his arms around Cam's waist and clings tightly.
It's a while before Cam tries to pull back, and it's just so he can sling his arm around John's waist and walk him into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He sits John on the bed and kneels, removing boots and peeling off clothing until John's left in his boxers. Cam strips off his own clothing quickly and climbs into the bed, arranging himself behind John's body, draping an arm over John's waist.
John threads his fingers through the hand on his stomach and slowly moves it up his chest, settling it near his heart. Cam can feel the mark beneath his palm as John haltingly recounts his capture and torture and escape, and when he's done he falls silent.
Cam catalogues his emotions, packs them up, and stores them for later; now is for helping John. He presses his palm firmly over the mark on John's chest and a kiss to the back of his shoulder.
"I love you," he says simply. "And if I have to thank a Wraith for the fact that you're still alive, then so be it."
John makes a choking sound, and Cam strokes his thumb slowly over the raised line in the center of the handprint. "I know you hate it," he continues quietly. "I can't imagine being happy about it in your shoes, but it's easier to be thankful than to think about hearing second- or third-hand that you'd died at the hands of that psychopath, John."
John doesn't say anything, and Cam feels him shaking again. It's John's version of crying, of letting it out, so Cam doesn't say anything either, just continues moving his thumb over the mark on John's chest until John's finally, finally still beside him.
"I can't ever thank him," John says, quietly but with conviction. "I can't, Cam."
"I know," Cam replies softly. "That's what I'm here for."
Fear: human!Michael & Carson, is he still a monster?
Carson sees how Ronon regards Michael Kenmore, sees how he hates the man for the monster he was, sees how Teyla tries to befriend him, sees how John and Rodney and Elizabeth all lie to him so easily, and it makes his stomach twist. In his own way, at least Ronon has never lied to the... man? Wraith? Carson isn't certain, and he wishes, not for the first time, that he'd been able to properly test the serum on Ellia. It would have prevented a lot of these problems, he knows, would have saved Zaddik and his family a lot of heartache, but above that it would have been easier to deal with the transformation of a little girl than an adult male.
Carson himself isn't sure what to think. When Michael's been sedated, when he's had his injections, he's completely and fully human, but right before Carson administers each dose of the retrovirus he can see something not quite right in Michael's eyes, like he's starting to get his old mind back. In those moments, Carson is afraid, afraid of what Michael would do if he were ever to get out of here.
It's unlikely, unlikely that Michael will ever discover what he was, that he will ever be allowed out of the sight of his guards, and yet Carson can't help but fear the monster that Michael might yet become again.
Not Where I Thougt You Were Going With That: Cam/John, didn't see that coming
When John asks if they can talk, Cam's stomach does a funny little flip because he does it on the way home, which is as neutral as their ground gets. It's not work, and it's not home; it's in the car, on the way from one to the other, and Cam can't help the thoughts that run through his head when he turns to face John and sees the look on his face - a little nervous, a little dreading, and completely serious.
Cam pulls into a parking lot of some random restaurant and takes a deep breath. John's been quiet lately, hasn't wanted to go out and do things, and Cam's been wondering about it but trying to not put too much stock in it. And then John had left the other day for hours, hadn't let Cam know where he was going, and had refused to talk about it afterward.
Cam's pretty sure John's about to leave him, so after he turns the car off he leans into John and grabs him behind the head, drawing him close and kissing him with everything he's ever felt for the other man, love and fear and worry and affection and lust and more love, and when he pulls back John's smiling.
"Wasn't expecting that," he says. "Well, I sort of was, I guess, but not yet."
And now Cam's confused, because that doesn't make a damn bit of sense, but then John's reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little bag, the kind you get at the jeweller's, and he's pressing it into Cam's hand. Cam slowly upends the bag over his palm, and two simple gold bands fall out and rest against his skin. Cam stares at them for a minute before he looks up at John, whose face is reflecting nerves again.
"I've been thinking," he says quietly. "We've been together for the better part of fifteen years. I'm pretty convinced I'm not going to suddenly change my mind at this point, and I'd like to think you're not going to, either."
Cam nods, and John flashes him a smile. "We can, now, y'know? And we don't have to make it official official, with papers and a lawyer or anything, but..."
His voice drifts off, and Cam thinks it's the most heartfelt thing he's ever heard anyone say. He closes his hand around the rings in his palm and reaches up with his other hand to cup John's face, brushing his thumb across the other man's lips. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
There's a hint of color in John's cheeks as he mumbles against Cam's thumb. "I guess I am, yeah."
"God, I love you," Cam laughs, and he leans in to kiss John again, fierce and passionate, before opening his hand and staring down at the rings. One's a little bigger, and Cam's not really that surprised to find that it fits him perfectly when John picks it up and slips it onto Cam's finger. John's fits him just as well, snug without being too tight. Cam looks at it on John's hand, the universal symbol of taken, married, loved, cherished, and all he can do is smile.
John laughs suddenly. "Did we just get married in the parking lot of a Waffle House?"
Cam looks out the windshield and joins in John's laughter as he sees the bright yellow building in front of them. "I believe we did, yes."
:D