Stargate: Atlantis, Sheppard/McKay, Stages of a relationship: Confession
Title: Espial
Author: Pollitt (mboyd)
Theme: Confession
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Allusions to "The Storm," "The Eye," and "Grace Under Pressure"
"I love you, Sheppard, but there are some days that I really don't like you."
The world is red-tinged and muffled, and John's having a difficult enough time remembering who he is, much less where. The itch of electrodes on his skin and the pain in his chest narrow down his location to the infirmary.
He remembers the mission--trade negotiations and information gathering; nice, smiling people who grinned even when they brandished their tri-barreled guns; and then a firework explosion of pain and screaming and black.
Somewhere in the white noise of everything, he hears Rodney's words, clear as day. And John knows he wasn't supposed to hear that, that Rodney would deny such an admission until he was blue in the face, because he doesn't--
Only, apparently, he does.
But John doesn't--
Huh.
Maybe he's wrong. And maybe he's wrong in a "the Earth is flat" kind of way. John thinks about Genii knives and sunken jumpers, and the ache in his chest isn't related to any injury he's sustained.
"Likewise, buddy," John wants to say, but he finds his mouth doesn't want to work, so he squeezes the hand that's holding his and hopes his message is understood.
Author: Pollitt (mboyd)
Theme: Confession
Rating: G
Author's Notes: Allusions to "The Storm," "The Eye," and "Grace Under Pressure"
"I love you, Sheppard, but there are some days that I really don't like you."
The world is red-tinged and muffled, and John's having a difficult enough time remembering who he is, much less where. The itch of electrodes on his skin and the pain in his chest narrow down his location to the infirmary.
He remembers the mission--trade negotiations and information gathering; nice, smiling people who grinned even when they brandished their tri-barreled guns; and then a firework explosion of pain and screaming and black.
Somewhere in the white noise of everything, he hears Rodney's words, clear as day. And John knows he wasn't supposed to hear that, that Rodney would deny such an admission until he was blue in the face, because he doesn't--
Only, apparently, he does.
But John doesn't--
Huh.
Maybe he's wrong. And maybe he's wrong in a "the Earth is flat" kind of way. John thinks about Genii knives and sunken jumpers, and the ache in his chest isn't related to any injury he's sustained.
"Likewise, buddy," John wants to say, but he finds his mouth doesn't want to work, so he squeezes the hand that's holding his and hopes his message is understood.