SGA Fic - Kissing the Pond (1/1)
Title: Kissing the Pond
Disclaimer: SGA does not belong to me, but it should.
Summary: "Still too fast, slow down! You want to touch down gently, like a leaf kissing the surface of a pond."
Characters: John/Elizabeth
Spoilers: Up to "Lifeline"
Rating: PG
Word Count: 592
Author's Note: This is literally the moment when John lands the City. I wanted to dig a little deeper, explore exactly why the landing was so rough. Take a much needed look inside that pretty head of the man flying the thing.
Thanks to ponderous77 for the speedy beta. And einhorn_13, happy birthday!!! Do help yourself to the cake and a plate of Sheppardy angst. ;)
He gripped the arms of the Control Chair with such force that the blood in all his fingers had drained out, and his knuckles were white and shaking. The Chair spins under his weight. The City plummets.
He tried to clear his mind, manage his thoughts and think of the mission. The mission was all that ever mattered, he knew it too well. Circumstances were of no consequence. They never were. He told himself to focus. He sees her in flashes, quick bursts of red and black, like gunfire. But what he remembers is the terror in her eyes. And he just stands there. He does nothing. He lies to her.
He needed to land them safely in the waters of their new planet. He could hear Rodney’s voice rising in his ear. He felt the City groan as the atmosphere began to claw at the shield. The Chair spins. He breathes deeply. Through his fingertips, up his palms, into his veins he feels the City. Every burning moment of their descent. He wants to rip apart, destroy with his bare hands until nothing that could ever be mistaken for alive is left living, and only blood and dead machinery remain beneath his boots.
He shut his eyes tighter, trying to block out the merciless chatter over the radio. They weren’t coming in too steep. The angle was just fine. He was the one in command. He was the one that gave orders. It was his call. It was always his call. And he is frozen, just like them, only he knows he can move, but somehow he still doesn’t. He watches her struggle. So he cries her name like it holds some kind of power. As if it is a weapon. As if it could be used to save her. But it was only meant to save him.
He felt steady when everything around him was shaking. They broke through the atmosphere and the water was fast approaching. It was too fast. Maybe the angle wasn’t right after all. His hands were numb from trying. He wanted to let go. The City freefalls, no longer protesting the rate of the descent. He feels the surrender. He feels Ronon grab his vest and drag him. He has no choice but to go. He has no choice. She stays, he goes.
He heard Rodney mutter something about kissing and ponds. Too late. The water. A current passes through him before they all jerk forward. All but him. When flying, he is forever steady. He knows he can open his eyes only when he no longer sees her, when they all surround her. She is now theirs.
He allowed himself to sit up, his hands relaxed just a little but remained at the ready on the arms of the Control Chair. He could feel the new ocean rippling around them. It was either a sign of welcome, or a protest. He didn’t know which. He didn’t really care: they were staying. Over the radio the cheers slowly mount. Colonel Carter congratulates him. He accepts. It’s protocol. He should probably salute her later. And then what?
He knew he should be doing something useful, yet he remained as he was. Always reacting too little too late. And so it was, it finally hit him. Protocol. No man is ever left behind. He knows it too well. He thinks of Sumner, barely alive, nodding to him. He knows all this. So he’ll go back. And then what? He’ll save her. That’s it. Simple.
Disclaimer: SGA does not belong to me, but it should.
Summary: "Still too fast, slow down! You want to touch down gently, like a leaf kissing the surface of a pond."
Characters: John/Elizabeth
Spoilers: Up to "Lifeline"
Rating: PG
Word Count: 592
Author's Note: This is literally the moment when John lands the City. I wanted to dig a little deeper, explore exactly why the landing was so rough. Take a much needed look inside that pretty head of the man flying the thing.
Thanks to ponderous77 for the speedy beta. And einhorn_13, happy birthday!!! Do help yourself to the cake and a plate of Sheppardy angst. ;)
He gripped the arms of the Control Chair with such force that the blood in all his fingers had drained out, and his knuckles were white and shaking. The Chair spins under his weight. The City plummets.
He tried to clear his mind, manage his thoughts and think of the mission. The mission was all that ever mattered, he knew it too well. Circumstances were of no consequence. They never were. He told himself to focus. He sees her in flashes, quick bursts of red and black, like gunfire. But what he remembers is the terror in her eyes. And he just stands there. He does nothing. He lies to her.
He needed to land them safely in the waters of their new planet. He could hear Rodney’s voice rising in his ear. He felt the City groan as the atmosphere began to claw at the shield. The Chair spins. He breathes deeply. Through his fingertips, up his palms, into his veins he feels the City. Every burning moment of their descent. He wants to rip apart, destroy with his bare hands until nothing that could ever be mistaken for alive is left living, and only blood and dead machinery remain beneath his boots.
He shut his eyes tighter, trying to block out the merciless chatter over the radio. They weren’t coming in too steep. The angle was just fine. He was the one in command. He was the one that gave orders. It was his call. It was always his call. And he is frozen, just like them, only he knows he can move, but somehow he still doesn’t. He watches her struggle. So he cries her name like it holds some kind of power. As if it is a weapon. As if it could be used to save her. But it was only meant to save him.
He felt steady when everything around him was shaking. They broke through the atmosphere and the water was fast approaching. It was too fast. Maybe the angle wasn’t right after all. His hands were numb from trying. He wanted to let go. The City freefalls, no longer protesting the rate of the descent. He feels the surrender. He feels Ronon grab his vest and drag him. He has no choice but to go. He has no choice. She stays, he goes.
He heard Rodney mutter something about kissing and ponds. Too late. The water. A current passes through him before they all jerk forward. All but him. When flying, he is forever steady. He knows he can open his eyes only when he no longer sees her, when they all surround her. She is now theirs.
He allowed himself to sit up, his hands relaxed just a little but remained at the ready on the arms of the Control Chair. He could feel the new ocean rippling around them. It was either a sign of welcome, or a protest. He didn’t know which. He didn’t really care: they were staying. Over the radio the cheers slowly mount. Colonel Carter congratulates him. He accepts. It’s protocol. He should probably salute her later. And then what?
He knew he should be doing something useful, yet he remained as he was. Always reacting too little too late. And so it was, it finally hit him. Protocol. No man is ever left behind. He knows it too well. He thinks of Sumner, barely alive, nodding to him. He knows all this. So he’ll go back. And then what? He’ll save her. That’s it. Simple.