"The Good Left Undone" - Chapter One
Summary: What drives that strength of character? McKay didn't know either John Sheppard well enough to fully understand. Add in a reporter, a desire for truth and a taste of what "could be" & that unsigned non-disclosure agreement could be a problem. Vegas-fic.
Title: The Good Left Undone
Chapter: Chapter One
Pairing: mostly Gen. (eventual Sheppard/OFC - though not focus of story)
Main Character: John Sheppard
Genre: Drama
Rating: R
Length: 886
Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis, and anything relating to the Stargate Multiverse, is owned by: MGM, Sci-Fi Channel, Brad Wright, Robert C. Cooper, et. al. Title comes from "The Good Left Undone" by Rise Against (writing credit: Tim McIlrath). This is purely for entertainment purposes and in no way am I profiting.
Note: Takes place in the SGA Reality established in episode 5x19 "Vegas".
So I tell myself, I tell myself it's wrong.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm.
"The Good Left Undone" - Rise Against (Tim McIlrath)
Casey Ward was tired. She was also confused, frustrated, dirty and now, six hours after arriving at the hospital, didn't have a shot in hell at making tomorrow's paper.
The logical side of her brain had been pointing out that these were all very good reasons to go home, shower and sleep. Unfortunately for logic, five hours earlier, when she realized she couldn't locate an emergency contact in his cell phone, she had remembered what it was like to be a human being (rather then, according to Sheppard, a blood-sucking reporter) and had decided to stay. Besides, if it weren't for the steady beat of the heart monitor, not to mention pulsox and the hiss of oxygen, she'd have been hard pressed to believe the sleeping figure was even alive.
Her dark eyes nervously took in the pale figure of John Sheppard lying on the hospital bed and slowly took a sip of the hospital coffee she had practically been mainlining all night; after a quick note of thanks to whatever deity allowed reporters, cops and doctor's too all be capable of stomaching the worst possible brews. He hadn't so much as twitched since the doctor's had wheeled his gurney into this room two hours earlier from recovery after repairing a gunshot wound to the left upper chest along with whatever other injuries the detective had sustained.
Therein came the frustration.
Casey still didn't have a clear picture of what had happened to the man, who had been a thorn in her side since the moment she stepped into Las Vegas two years earlier, despite the fact that she was also the only person who was waiting for news about him. In her mind, that counted for something; the doctor's didn't seem to agree. She muffled an amused snort at the thought as it passed through her mind; if anyone at the paper knew where she was at that moment they'd die of shock. Her thoughts then briefly went to the head-shot of the very man she was staring at, taken at a crime scene a year earlier, that hung in her cubicle and smirked again.
"I'm going to have to print another one out, the old one has too many holes and the dart's just don't stick as well," she told him with a short laugh, breaking the silence for the first time all night. "In all seriousness," she added quietly. "Despite the numerous times I've told you my job would be easier if you'd just drop dead? I didn't really mean it."
And there came the waves of confusion again.
She could swear he was growing paler, even though a nurse had assured her that he was stable and would be fine, and a Las Vegas where she was a crime beat reporter and she didn't have a John Sheppard to argue with was a Las Vegas Casey Ward didn't think she wanted to live in. She didn't like that realization for the simple fact that she wondered how screwed up someone had to be that their least favorite person on the planet also, on some days, was their favorite.
"You're annoying, you stonewall me at every crime scene, you don't give a shit about anyone else but yourself but you sure as hell better wake up John Sheppard 'cause you also keep me on my toes and make me work for it," she told him as a parting shot before standing up, squeezing his hand lightly and walking out the door.
It was the scene she witnessed across the hall at the nurses desk, as she stepped outside the door, that made her pause. A brunette in scrubs, one of Sheppard's loose lipped, clingy, conquests if she remembered correctly, was talking to a man in a suit and neither appeared to be very happy with the other. When the nurse met her eyes from across the hall Casey froze; there was a clear warning in them, a warning she caught immediately once she heard the name of the patient the man was asking about. If that didn't send up any internal alarms, the marine escort he had with him did.
Slowly, so as not to be noticed, Casey reached up and used her finger to remove John's name from the white board next to his room and slipped back inside. Looking over the pale figure one more time she leaned back against the door and sighed, momentarily closing her eyes from her own exhaustion.
"What the hell did you get involved in Sheppard?"
She didn't feel like she breathed again until she saw the three men, through the door's small window, walk away from the nurse's station looking frustrated. Once she was certain they were completely gone she carefully lowered herself back into the bedside chair and relaxed her body as much as possible; once again wondering if tracking the homicide detective into the desert that afternoon, and subsequently dragging his shot up body back into the city, had been the smartest or stupidest thing she had done in her career.
"This story better be worth it John," she grumbled; no doubt in her mind that she'd get him to tell her what had happened, one way or the other. "Serial killer my ass," she added with a slight glare in his direction.
Author's Note: I'm tackling this because, despite saying I would never attempt an SGA fic (I like what's on the screen far too much to mess with it) I've been enthralled with "Vegas" since I first saw it. It presented an astounding opportunity to write in a universe I love, but at the same time allows for a great deal of creative freedom to create new details (and my tendency to lean towards darker fic). Also, I got a kick out of the opening scene with Sheppard ignoring (and then snarking on) the reporter.
Comments, questions and critiques always appreciated (and I find them to be the best sort of motivator).