Fic: Figments
Title: Figments
Author: lillyjk
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard-ish, preslash or gen
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: angst, Rodney-torture (NOT DEATHFIC)
Spoilers: general Season 2
Prompt: "All dreams spin out from the same web." - American Indian Proverb
Figments
Carson rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "I can’t promise anything, Elizabeth." His worried gaze slides back to Rodney’s prone form. "All we can do now is wait."
"And if we sent him back through the Stargate?" Elizabeth’s voice is eerily calm, but her mouth is drawn into a tight line.
"There’s no way to predict. I just don’t know. His chances of survival are...well, frankly, they’re not good. And..." Carson’s voice trails off uncertainly, the unspoken words heavy in the air.
"He’s not going anywhere." John pushes away from the wall and advances on Carson. "You got that Doc, he’s not going anywhere." He steps into the space between Elizabeth and Carson. "You," he growls at Elizabeth, "aren’t sending him anywhere. And you," he leans closer to Carson. "You’re gonna fix him."
Elizabeth reaches out to lay a hand on John’s arm. "John, surely you must--"
John shrugs her hand away. "No," his eyes are cold, his voice emotionless. "Just fix him."
As John walks away from the infirmary, his heart pounding in his chest, Rodney sleeps.
***
In his dreams, Rodney dies.
The first time Rodney dies, he is five years old.
He eats a gingersnap at Jackie Farrell’s birthday party. Jackie’s mother made them from scratch, and her secret ingredient was lemon zest grated into the batter. Rodney remembers how that ginger snap tasted, spicy and sweet against his tongue. He remembers the sudden gasping as his throat swelled shut, the way the world went fuzzy and bright.
This is Rodney’s favorite way to die.
***
The first night that Rodney lays in the infirmary, trapped somewhere between death and life, John runs.
He runs until his breath comes in ragged gasps, until his clothes are soaked through with sweat and the fine spray of ocean mist. He runs until nothing exists except the pounding of his feet against the surface of the city. He runs until the tightness in his chest becomes a dull ache.
John runs until he can’t hear Rodney’s screams, can’t hear Rodney’s voice, broken and desperate. He runs until the pounding of his heart drowns out the memory of Rodney begging for the escape that only death could offer.
John is still running, his feet blistered and bleeding, when dawn breaks over the city.
***
"I’m afraid there’s been no change." The dark circles under Carson’s eyes have deepened.
John pushes a hand back through his hair, "It’s been a week. Shouldn’t..." he pauses, his eyes flitting to Rodney’s still form. "Shouldn’t we know something by now."
Carson shakes his head, "I told you, Colonel. There’s no way of knowing. There is brain activity, and his vital signs are steady. But frankly, if Rodney was going to wake up, it should have happened by now."
John leaves without a word. He manages two hours of sleep before he climbs out of his bed and laces up his running shoes.
***
In his dreams, Rodney dies.
The Genii soldiers are holding him down, pressing him against the bed. He can feel their hands around his wrists, around his ankles.
If he turns his head, he can see Elizabeth. Her head lolls to the side, her throat nothing but an obscene bloody gash. Her eyes are open, unseeing.
Kolya is straddling him. The knife gleams wickedly, the tip already wet with Rodney’s blood.
Just surface cuts so far, shallow patterns etched into his bare chest. Rodney can feel them, a stinging trail of fire, the slow seep of his blood.
The words are spilling out of him, Rodney is offering up all of the secrets of Atlantis.
But no matter what he says, Kolya just smiles and keeps cutting.
***
"You can’t go on like this." The worry is clear in Elizabeth’s voice, and for once she doesn’t try to hide it.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." John doesn’t look at her, but then he doesn’t look at anybody anymore.
"You won’t see Dr. Heightmeyer, and Carson says that you’ve refused his offer of something to help you sleep." Elizabeth leans forward in her chair, her palms pressing against the surface of her desk. "You’ve left me no choice. I’m relieving you of duty effective immediately. Major Lorne will be assuming your duties on a temporary basis."
John looks at his hands, remembers Rodney’s hands pale and wide and stained with blood. "If that’s it, I need to go for a run."
When he leaves, Elizabeth doesn’t try to stop him.
***
In his dreams, Rodney dies.
The Nolarians raised torture to an art form. The needles are about two inches long, each capable of delivering something similar to an electric charge when embedded in the skin.
They drive the first needle into the center of his palm. The pain in agonizing, but somehow bearable because he can hear Sheppard’s low voice. Rodney can’t see him, but he knows that Sheppard’s shackled to the far wall.
The second needle pierces his cheek. Sheppard’s voice isn’t soothing anymore. He’s yelling at the Nolarian doctor, a mix of promises and threats.
Rodney’s own voice is trapped in his throat, a side effect of the drug on the tips of the needles.
Tears are running down his face when the third needle plunges into the side of his neck.
Sheppard’s screaming for Rodney, but Rodney doesn’t hear him anymore. Rodney’s world narrows down to the needles. Too many to count now, too much pain, too much.
Something shifts and the world goes black.
In his dreams, Rodney lives.
***
When he runs, John doesn’t remember Rodney. He doesn’t remember watching Rodney die in increments. He doesn’t remember Rodney’s silent screams, or that he screamed when Rodney couldn’t.
When John runs he doesn’t remember being helpless.
He’s still running when Rodney wakes up.
The End
Author: lillyjk
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard-ish, preslash or gen
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: angst, Rodney-torture (NOT DEATHFIC)
Spoilers: general Season 2
Prompt: "All dreams spin out from the same web." - American Indian Proverb
Figments
Carson rubs a hand across the back of his neck. "I can’t promise anything, Elizabeth." His worried gaze slides back to Rodney’s prone form. "All we can do now is wait."
"And if we sent him back through the Stargate?" Elizabeth’s voice is eerily calm, but her mouth is drawn into a tight line.
"There’s no way to predict. I just don’t know. His chances of survival are...well, frankly, they’re not good. And..." Carson’s voice trails off uncertainly, the unspoken words heavy in the air.
"He’s not going anywhere." John pushes away from the wall and advances on Carson. "You got that Doc, he’s not going anywhere." He steps into the space between Elizabeth and Carson. "You," he growls at Elizabeth, "aren’t sending him anywhere. And you," he leans closer to Carson. "You’re gonna fix him."
Elizabeth reaches out to lay a hand on John’s arm. "John, surely you must--"
John shrugs her hand away. "No," his eyes are cold, his voice emotionless. "Just fix him."
As John walks away from the infirmary, his heart pounding in his chest, Rodney sleeps.
***
In his dreams, Rodney dies.
The first time Rodney dies, he is five years old.
He eats a gingersnap at Jackie Farrell’s birthday party. Jackie’s mother made them from scratch, and her secret ingredient was lemon zest grated into the batter. Rodney remembers how that ginger snap tasted, spicy and sweet against his tongue. He remembers the sudden gasping as his throat swelled shut, the way the world went fuzzy and bright.
This is Rodney’s favorite way to die.
***
The first night that Rodney lays in the infirmary, trapped somewhere between death and life, John runs.
He runs until his breath comes in ragged gasps, until his clothes are soaked through with sweat and the fine spray of ocean mist. He runs until nothing exists except the pounding of his feet against the surface of the city. He runs until the tightness in his chest becomes a dull ache.
John runs until he can’t hear Rodney’s screams, can’t hear Rodney’s voice, broken and desperate. He runs until the pounding of his heart drowns out the memory of Rodney begging for the escape that only death could offer.
John is still running, his feet blistered and bleeding, when dawn breaks over the city.
***
"I’m afraid there’s been no change." The dark circles under Carson’s eyes have deepened.
John pushes a hand back through his hair, "It’s been a week. Shouldn’t..." he pauses, his eyes flitting to Rodney’s still form. "Shouldn’t we know something by now."
Carson shakes his head, "I told you, Colonel. There’s no way of knowing. There is brain activity, and his vital signs are steady. But frankly, if Rodney was going to wake up, it should have happened by now."
John leaves without a word. He manages two hours of sleep before he climbs out of his bed and laces up his running shoes.
***
In his dreams, Rodney dies.
The Genii soldiers are holding him down, pressing him against the bed. He can feel their hands around his wrists, around his ankles.
If he turns his head, he can see Elizabeth. Her head lolls to the side, her throat nothing but an obscene bloody gash. Her eyes are open, unseeing.
Kolya is straddling him. The knife gleams wickedly, the tip already wet with Rodney’s blood.
Just surface cuts so far, shallow patterns etched into his bare chest. Rodney can feel them, a stinging trail of fire, the slow seep of his blood.
The words are spilling out of him, Rodney is offering up all of the secrets of Atlantis.
But no matter what he says, Kolya just smiles and keeps cutting.
***
"You can’t go on like this." The worry is clear in Elizabeth’s voice, and for once she doesn’t try to hide it.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about." John doesn’t look at her, but then he doesn’t look at anybody anymore.
"You won’t see Dr. Heightmeyer, and Carson says that you’ve refused his offer of something to help you sleep." Elizabeth leans forward in her chair, her palms pressing against the surface of her desk. "You’ve left me no choice. I’m relieving you of duty effective immediately. Major Lorne will be assuming your duties on a temporary basis."
John looks at his hands, remembers Rodney’s hands pale and wide and stained with blood. "If that’s it, I need to go for a run."
When he leaves, Elizabeth doesn’t try to stop him.
***
In his dreams, Rodney dies.
The Nolarians raised torture to an art form. The needles are about two inches long, each capable of delivering something similar to an electric charge when embedded in the skin.
They drive the first needle into the center of his palm. The pain in agonizing, but somehow bearable because he can hear Sheppard’s low voice. Rodney can’t see him, but he knows that Sheppard’s shackled to the far wall.
The second needle pierces his cheek. Sheppard’s voice isn’t soothing anymore. He’s yelling at the Nolarian doctor, a mix of promises and threats.
Rodney’s own voice is trapped in his throat, a side effect of the drug on the tips of the needles.
Tears are running down his face when the third needle plunges into the side of his neck.
Sheppard’s screaming for Rodney, but Rodney doesn’t hear him anymore. Rodney’s world narrows down to the needles. Too many to count now, too much pain, too much.
Something shifts and the world goes black.
In his dreams, Rodney lives.
***
When he runs, John doesn’t remember Rodney. He doesn’t remember watching Rodney die in increments. He doesn’t remember Rodney’s silent screams, or that he screamed when Rodney couldn’t.
When John runs he doesn’t remember being helpless.
He’s still running when Rodney wakes up.
The End