Sestina: John (gen, 500 words). Happy second day of National Poetry Month!
I still think this could use improvement, but here it is anyway.
Title: Sestina: John
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John/team/gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Summary: John finds a home.
Spoilers: "Rising."
Disclaimer: Neither the canon nor the fanon that inspired this are mine.
A/N: I'm glad to have this finished, finally. Big thanks to beta-readers, especially roga and jadesfire2808, for encouraging me not to give up a few months ago and for pointing out the clunky parts.
When John first steps through the gate into Atlantis,
he doesn't feel afraid or excited or humbled or lost,
doesn't wonder what he's doing so far from home
in this dark and silent city at the bottom of an alien
sea. Blank and efficient, he secures the area for the civilian team.
It's his job; that's all. Until, beneath his boots, the city wakes.
As the lights flicker on, white and blue as the sea, it's as if John wakes
too; as if the gene, long dormant, stirs to life along with Atlantis,
humming warm in his chest, kindling a tentative joy reflected in the team's
awestruck faces around him. In his head, the city whispers, Be lost
no longer, child of the Ancestors; says, These sleeping halls you call alien
were made for you, have been waiting for you; says, Welcome home.
The city's siren song follows him even when he leaves this perhaps-home
to save it from drowning. It bears witness as he shoots his C.O. and wakes
the thousand shrieking horrors who dominate this nightmarish alien
food chain. It greets him when he returns in sudden command of Atlantis,
risen from the sea. It's comforting, but it's weird. He feels pretty damn lost.
Not that he'll admit it; a leader now, he needs to stay strong for his team.
Soon, the scientists and doctors as well as the soldiers become his team,
just as this ancient city on a faraway sea somehow becomes the home
he hasn't let himself have in years. On Earth, he'd believed he could never be lost
without a home to miss. Now, he lets the shushing waves soothe him when he wakes
from formless dreams of Wraith and death and desert sands. Atlantis
thrums a lullaby until he drifts off beneath stars that no longer seem alien.
In time, he loses the ability and the desire to distinguish "human" and "alien."
It's the same with Elizabeth, Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, grown closer than a team;
they're his family. He'd give his life for any of them, and for Atlantis,
this city of misfits from two galaxies, their oasis on the sea, their forever home.
They've celebrated too many victories, grieved through too many wakes,
to be anything else. Together, they shoulder the weight of all they've won and lost.
On the reverse trip, gating to Earth, John is immediately, nauseatingly lost.
The crowds, the strip malls, the fast food joints, present an utterly alien
culture that drives him to his silent, bare apartment, where he waits to wake
from this dream. All that anchors him are daily phone calls from his team,
similarly at sea on this bustling, blessedly ignorant planet he'd called home.
At meetings, at mealtimes, at midnight, all he can think of is Atlantis.
John wakes early on their last day of leave. Gathering his team,
each one human and alien in their own way, he flies them home,
soaring over the sea to the glittering spires of the once-lost city of Atlantis.
Feedback and concrit are very welcome.
Title: Sestina: John
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Characters: John/team/gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500
Summary: John finds a home.
Spoilers: "Rising."
Disclaimer: Neither the canon nor the fanon that inspired this are mine.
A/N: I'm glad to have this finished, finally. Big thanks to beta-readers, especially roga and jadesfire2808, for encouraging me not to give up a few months ago and for pointing out the clunky parts.
When John first steps through the gate into Atlantis,
he doesn't feel afraid or excited or humbled or lost,
doesn't wonder what he's doing so far from home
in this dark and silent city at the bottom of an alien
sea. Blank and efficient, he secures the area for the civilian team.
It's his job; that's all. Until, beneath his boots, the city wakes.
As the lights flicker on, white and blue as the sea, it's as if John wakes
too; as if the gene, long dormant, stirs to life along with Atlantis,
humming warm in his chest, kindling a tentative joy reflected in the team's
awestruck faces around him. In his head, the city whispers, Be lost
no longer, child of the Ancestors; says, These sleeping halls you call alien
were made for you, have been waiting for you; says, Welcome home.
The city's siren song follows him even when he leaves this perhaps-home
to save it from drowning. It bears witness as he shoots his C.O. and wakes
the thousand shrieking horrors who dominate this nightmarish alien
food chain. It greets him when he returns in sudden command of Atlantis,
risen from the sea. It's comforting, but it's weird. He feels pretty damn lost.
Not that he'll admit it; a leader now, he needs to stay strong for his team.
Soon, the scientists and doctors as well as the soldiers become his team,
just as this ancient city on a faraway sea somehow becomes the home
he hasn't let himself have in years. On Earth, he'd believed he could never be lost
without a home to miss. Now, he lets the shushing waves soothe him when he wakes
from formless dreams of Wraith and death and desert sands. Atlantis
thrums a lullaby until he drifts off beneath stars that no longer seem alien.
In time, he loses the ability and the desire to distinguish "human" and "alien."
It's the same with Elizabeth, Teyla, Rodney, Ronon, grown closer than a team;
they're his family. He'd give his life for any of them, and for Atlantis,
this city of misfits from two galaxies, their oasis on the sea, their forever home.
They've celebrated too many victories, grieved through too many wakes,
to be anything else. Together, they shoulder the weight of all they've won and lost.
On the reverse trip, gating to Earth, John is immediately, nauseatingly lost.
The crowds, the strip malls, the fast food joints, present an utterly alien
culture that drives him to his silent, bare apartment, where he waits to wake
from this dream. All that anchors him are daily phone calls from his team,
similarly at sea on this bustling, blessedly ignorant planet he'd called home.
At meetings, at mealtimes, at midnight, all he can think of is Atlantis.
John wakes early on their last day of leave. Gathering his team,
each one human and alien in their own way, he flies them home,
soaring over the sea to the glittering spires of the once-lost city of Atlantis.
Feedback and concrit are very welcome.