fic: I Bet Angel Never Had To Deal... by bluejbird
Title: I Bet Angel Never Had To Deal With This Shit
Author: bluejbird
Rating: PG, I guess
Summary: After a trip offworld John undergoes some changes…and it takes Rodney some time to notice. Featuring Undead!John and numerous bad vampire clichés.
A/N: Originally written as a comment!fic for the awesome rain_dances, who also came up with the title.
Sheppard was leaning against the wall outside Rodney’s door when the scientist opened it and peered blearily out.
”Do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked, testily, and Sheppard shrugged.
“Sorry, I’m a bit of a night owl.”
Rodney gave an irritating grunt and stepped back. “Well?” he asked, after the Colonel didn’t move. “Are you coming in or not?”
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “I guess I’m just waiting to be invited in.”
Rodney rolled his eyes and made a sweeping gesture. “Colonel Sheppard, would you please do me the honour of stepping inside my quarters at oh-god-too-early in the morning?”
Sheppard smirked and pushed himself off the wall, following Rodney in.
Rodney collapsed back on the bed, then opened one eyelid. “Sit down,” he ordered, “or do you need to be invited to do that too?”
He moved his legs and Sheppard perched himself on the edge of the bed in that awfully graceful way he had that made Rodney hate him just a little bit.
”Are you wearing a leather coat?” he asked, frowning.
”Yes,” Sheppard said defensively. “So? Halling gave it to me.”
Rodney snorted. “You do realise that the environmental settings negate the need for such outer garments, right?”
Sheppard shrugged. “I’m cold blooded, I can’t help it.”
Rodney sighed and sat up. “Well, I’m fully awake now,” he bitched. “What do you want?”
The Colonel shrugged again and shifted further onto the bed. “Nothing, really. Just wanted to see what you were doing.”
Rodney opened his mouth then closed it, gave Sheppard a funny look, and pushed himself out of bed. “I’m hungry,” he said. “Do you want anything? I’ve got some of those spaghetti MREs somewhere.”
Sheppard recoiled slightly. “Uh, no, thanks. They put a bit too much garlic in for my tastes.”
“Oh,” Rodney said. “Er, powerbar then?” he offered, and when Sheppard nodded, he started to rummage through a drawer. Muttering in annoyance, he grabbed a handful of random junk and tossed it onto the bed.
Sheppard hissed and stood up suddenly, backing away from the bed.
“Sorry,” Rodney said, grabbing everything and dumping it back in the drawer. “I can’t seem to find any.”
The Colonel was staring at something silver on the bed, and Rodney reached out and picked it up, looking sheepish. ”I know, I know,” he said, dangling the tiny crucifix from his hand. “Religion is just a load of mumbo jumbo. But Jeannie gave me this, years ago, when I first went away to university, and…I guess it’s sort of a good luck charm. Not that I believe in that sort of thing. Not like you pilots,” he added, swinging the charm towards Sheppard, who jumped back, and then gave a forced laugh.
Rodney frowned and dropped the crucifix back into his drawer.
“Steak!” he exclaimed suddenly, whirling around. The Colonel was against the far wall now, eyes wide.
”W-what?” Sheppard stammered. “What do you-“
“The mess was serving steak for dinner,” Rodney explained. “I bet they’ve still got some. We could go down there and see, if you want?”
Sheppard seemed to relax slightly, but then Rodney tipped his head to the side and rubbed his neck. “And, you know, we could stop by the infirmary and see if Carson will give me anything for this neck pain I’ve been having,” he added.
Sheppard licked his lips, then shook his head. “No, um, I really have to go and do a…a thing…with…um, anyway I’ll see you. Tomorrow. Or…yeah,” he said, and bolted for the door.
Rodney stared at the door to his now empty room and frowned. He wondered briefly what was wrong with the Colonel. He’d not seem him all day- not since they’d got back from that weird goth planet. Rodney had always thought the Colonel was a little strange, but this was very odd indeed. He made a mental note to ask the Colonel about it tomorrow over breakfast and then heated up an MRE (which had just the right amount of garlic, so he didn’t know what Sheppard was complaining about). Then he went back to bed and had exceedingly odd dreams of Sheppard hovering over his bed, smiling down at him, lips stained red and tongue sliding across pointed teeth.
Rodney awoke the next morning feeling cranky and un-rested. He stumbled into the shower, fumbled into his uniform and grabbed his laptop before making his way to the mess.
“Where’s Sheppard?” he asked as he slid into the seat beside Teyla. Opposite her, Ronon was devouring a massive plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and chomping his way through a tower of toast.
“I believe the Colonel is unwell today,” Teyla replied, calmly sipping her tea. “He radioed Dr Weir this morning to ask not to be disturbed.”
Rodney frowned down at his breakfast and started to eat. “Hmm,” he said. “He was acting a little strange last night. Maybe he caught something when we were offworld yesterday?"
Ronon gave a non-commital grunt.
"Well, I'm sure the Colonel will be overjoyed to learn how concerned his team are for his well-being," Rodney said, after he finished his meal. "I'll stop by on my way to the lab. I mean, I wouldn't expect either of you to take time out of your busy schedules of hitting each other with sticks to visit him."
He stood, giving Teyla and Ronon a pointed look and then flounced out of the mess, heading toward Sheppard's quarters, and was immediately waylaid by a panicked scientist who was clearly trying to kill them all with her stupidity.
By the time the crisis had been averted and he'd shouted at everyone in the labs, it was after lunch, and so Rodney stole some sandwiches that Zelenka had fetched for himself from the mess, and headed towards the Colonel's room.
The bell chimed, and there was a long pause. "Who is it?" Sheppard called.
"It's me," Rodney said, and there was no answer, which he decided to take as permission to go inside.
“And I thought I was the one allergic to sunlight!” Rodney pointed out as he stepped into Sheppard’s darkened room. “Why have you hung towels over the windows? What’s wrong with you?”
He moved towards them, intent on letting the sunshine in.
”Don’t!” Sheppard practically shouted, making Rodney jump.
”Fine,” Rodney snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why have you moved your bed away from the windows? And have you been to the infirmary? You’re looking very pale.”
The Colonel pouted.
“Rodney?” Sheppard asked, sounding vaguely pitiful. “Can I ask you a very important question?”
“Of course,” Rodney replied, frowning.
“How does my hair look?”
Rodney stared at him. “What?”
“My hair,” Sheppard repeated. “I can’t see it. How does it look.”
“The same as always,” Rodney answered tetchily. “Completely stupid. Although I’m sure you’ve got dozens of mirrors lying around. If fact I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d spent the entire morning staring at yourself in them.”
“I can’t see myself,” Sheppard said miserably.
Rodney stared at him in panic. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Is it your eyes?”
Sheppard made a sniffling noise. “No,” he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest and lowering his head. “My eyesight is better than ever. All of my senses are. I can smell the ocean, even though the windows are closed. And I can hear your heart beating, Rodney.”
Rodney frowned and sat down beside him. “Colonel?” he said. “John?”
Sheppard looked up and Rodney gasped. “Your eyes are bleeding,” he said in alarm, reaching out and wiping a drop of blood away from Sheppard’s cheek. He held his finger up in front of Sheppard to show him, and the Colonel’s face changed. He looked almost...hungry as he stared at Rodney's finger, and then, before Rodney knew what was happening, Sheppard had sucked Rodney's finger into his mouth.
"Um," Rodney said awkwardly, not knowing how to react at his team leader, military commander of Atlantis, sucking on his finger.
"Er, Colonel do you think- OW!" he exclaimed, trying to pull his hand back as something sharp and needle like pricked the end of his finger. "Sheppard, let me go!"
Sheppard released him and Rodney scooted away, staring at his hand. "Did you bite me?" he asked incredulously, looking at the blood welling on his finger tip.
"Sorry," Sheppard said, then lunged at Rodney as he moved to put it into his own mouth. "Don't!" he said. "I mean...it's not very hygienic," he added, and Rodney stood up, moving into the Colonel's bathroom. He rinsed his finger until it had stopped bleeding, then went back out. Sheppard was still sitting huddled on his bed, but he was smiling a little now, some colour back in his cheeks.
Rodney frowned. “I think you need to go to the infirmary,” he said, eying Sheppard warily. “And I’m going to-“
“Doctor McKay, please report to the labs,” a voice spoke in his ear.
He tapped his earpiece. “On my way,” he said, then shot John an apologetic look.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, and John smirked.
”I think I’ll survive without your nagging. Go and save the city with your enormous brain,” John replied.
“Oh, bite me,” Rodney snapped, good naturedly, then hurried out the door.
~~~
Rodney went back to lab and almost forgot about John in the excitement over a new ancient device that had been found in the bowels of the city. For several hours it looked like it had the potential to rid the galaxy of the Wraith. In the end it turned out to be an ancient waffle iron.
It was almost midnight by the time Rodney managed to drag himself back to his quarters, and was surprised when the lights didn’t come on as he entered.
He frowned at the control panel- hoping it wasn’t a city wide malfunction.
“Sorry.”
Rodney jumped and spun around. Sheppard was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking pale and sickly again.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rodney asked, and commanded the lights to come on.
Sheppard shrugged. “I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Did you go to the infirmary?” Rodney questioned and Sheppard avoided looking at him before shaking his head.
“Colonel you should really-“
“Can we just hang out for awhile?” Sheppard asked, sounding petulant. We never just hang anymore.”
“Oh,” Rodney said, feeling slightly guilty. “We’ve both been very busy. But we could hang out now. Cadman lent me some Buffy DVDs. Want to watch them?”
Sheppard winced and shook his head.
Rodney huffed. “Well, then, what do you want to do?”
Sheppard patted the bed beside him. “Sit with me. I need…” he trailed off, looking away as Rodney came and sat beside him. Then he fixed his eyes on Rodney’s with an intense gaze.
”Rodney?” Sheppard said. “Please. I need you to trust me.”
“Of course I trust you,” Rodney said, calmly. Calmly, at least, until Sheppard leant forward and nuzzled his neck. And then there was a sharp pain in his neck and he cried out, flailing, but Sheppard held on, face pressed into Rodney’s neck and-
He woke up in the infirmary. There was an IV in his hand, attached to a blood bag beside his bed. He sat up, feeling a little light headed.
“He’s awake!” one of the nurses called, and there were sounds of a scuffle outside his room.
“I want to see him!” he heard Sheppard demand. “I’m going in there. You can’t stop me.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
That was Lorne, and Rodney could hear that odd worrying tone in his voice that he got whenever he was saying something the Colonel wasn’t going to like hearing. “We won’t let you in. You’ve already, by your own admission, injured Dr McKay. You can’t see him.”
Rodney frowned. Sheppard, injure him? That was impossible. In fact, he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten injured in the first place, or what his injuries were.
There was a thick padded bandage on his neck and he strained to see it, before picking up a nearby metal bowl and using it as a mirror. Slowly, wincing, he pulled the bandage away to reveal two neat holes over his jugular.
“Huh,” he said, and then something crashed outside his room. There were shouts and banging and Lorne and several marines shouting.
Rodney sighed, and rolled his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, making sure his IV was still attached and wheeled it to the door.
He pushed it open and stared at the chaos. Two marines were in a heap at one end of the room, one with his P90 bent in half, another marine was standing a few feet away, obviously guarding the door to Rodney’s room. Sheppard was standing in the centre of the room, looking furious and Lorne was approaching him slowly, arms outstretched placatingly.
“You know, some people are trying to recover from what appears to be severe blood loss,” Rodney snapped loudly, and all eyes turned to him. “But I’m sure whatever you’re all doing is much more important, so please, carry on.”
“Rodney,” Sheppard said, staring at him. His eyes flicked to the bloodbag on the stand beside Rodney and he licked his lips nervously.
“Anyone care to explain what the hell happened to me?” Rodney asked, folding his arms as best he could with the IV attached. “Did I happen to fall and land on a toaster fork?”
“You were attacked,” Lorne said, shooting Sheppard a wary glance. “Sheppard-“
The Colonel looked scared, which was starting to scare Rodney.
“-is coming in here to explain to me what happened,” Rodney cut Lorne off. “Alone,” he added as the Major started to protest. He glared at the room at large, and then turned and stomped back to the uncomfortable infirmary bed.
He heard the door close and he looked up. “Well?” he asked.
Sheppard just stared down at him.
“I’m glad to see you’re looking better, at least,” Rodney said, settling himself more comfortably and patting the edge of the mattress for Sheppard to sit. And he was right- Sheppard’s colour was back, he’d lost that haunted look around his eyes, and even his hair was looking perkier.
“I’m so sorry,” Sheppard said, hesitantly sitting down at the very foot of his bed. “I…it was me. I attacked you. I didn’t think it would go that far…I thought I could stop…”
Rodney frowned at him. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Sheppard bared his teeth. Rodney stared. And then he noticed how pointy the Colonel’s canines were. Really pointy, in fact. Pointy enough to pierce skin. And situated what looked to be exactly the same distance apart as the marks on Rodney’s neck.
“Huh,” Rodney said, trying not to freak out.
“I just wanted a taste,” Sheppard said. “Needed a taste. You don’t know what it’s like, the hunger…it makes my veins ache, my heart clench. I was starving…I didn’t think…I’m sorry.”
Rodney stared at him so more, and then, very calmly, called for a doctor.
~~~
“Interesting,” Biro said.
Sheppard was sitting on an examination table, shirt off, as Biro prodded and probed him with various pieces of equipment.
“Apart from the brain activity and the enhanced senses and the superhuman strength, you’re completely dead.”
“That’s impossible,” Rodney said, back on his feet and in uniform. He was actually feeling upbeat and lively, although he was unsure if this was due to the adrenalin or new blood coursing through his veins (and he hoped to god Kavanagh hadn’t been a donor).
Biro raised an eyebrow at him. “So is travelling between galaxies in the blink of an eye. So is finding the lost city of Atlantis. So is-“
“Yes, yes, yes,” Rodney waved an impatient hand at her. “I see your point. What I want to know is…how?” He gave Sheppard a pointed look, and the Colonel had obviously just ingested some more blood, as he flushed red and wouldn’t meet Rodney’s eyes. Doctor Biro gave a discreet cough and left the room.
“Colonel,” Rodney said warningly, and Sheppard sighed.
“There was this girl-” he started to say, but Rodney cut him off with a bark of laughter.
“Of course there was,” Rodney said. “Let me guess- we were on that weird Goth planet, some pretty young thing batted her overly-blackened lashes at you and asked you to come to her room to listen to emo music and slit your wrists together. And then she bit you and-“
“It’s all a bit vague,” Sheppard cut in, waving a hand up towards his head.
Eventually Rodney got the whole story out of him, which was pretty much what he’d suggested had happened, with some added Sheppard biting the girl back moments that made him feel jealous (because oddly, sickly, strangely, he wanted to be the only one Sheppard would bite).
“Elizabeth says I have to stay here in the infirmary for awhile,” Sheppard said, pouting, lips stained slightly from the mug of warmed donor blood Biro had given him earlier.
“Yes, well, I brought research material,” Rodney said, picking up the box he’d brought with him, and tipping it out onto the infirmary bed. DVDs and books tumbled out- ‘Interview with a Vampire’, ‘Anne Rice’, ‘Dracula’ (in numerous forms), ‘Evolution’, ‘Buffy’ and countless others.
“You know,” Rodney added after Sheppard had rolled his eyes and they’d started to sift through, “I’m slightly concerned for the mental wellbeing of some of the members of this expedition. I mean, working in a galaxy where we have Space Vampires- and now, so it would seem, ordinary vampires too,” he added, nodding at Sheppard, who made a face, “wouldn’t make me want to watch or read any of this stuff too often. And yet there’s an abundance of it.”
They sat in silence, sorting through the media, looking for anything that might provide insight into Sheppard’s situation.
At some point in the afternoon, Sheppard looked up from where he was a few pages into The Vampire Lestat. “You know, maybe it won’t be so bad,” he remarked. “This guy is a rock star.”
Rodney rolled his eyes and tossed an Angel box set at him. “And this guy is a tortured soul, fighting the forces of evil, looking hot in leather and being generally broody. I wonder which one you’re more likely to be, hmm?”
Sheppard smirked at him. “You think I look hot in leather?” he asked, and Rodney spluttered and blushed and buried himself in an Anita Blake book, which, he discovered a chapter or so in, really wasn’t helping matters.
~~~
In the end it turned out no-one was particularly bothered that the Military Commander of Atlantis was undead. In fact, it turned out to be very useful- his super strength was invaluable in a fight and his enhanced senses meant he could see and hear things the rest couldn’t. Rodney had fashioned a new uniform for him that minimised the amount of sunlight Sheppard was exposed to and insisted he wear sunglasses that were more efficient than stylish (although it did start a new trend among the Athosians who worryingly appeared to look towards Sheppard for their fashion inspiration), and (much to Sheppard’s annoyance and Rodney’s glee) they discovered that Rodney’s homemade SPF100 sunscreen was sufficient to protect Sheppard’s exposed skin as long as it was frequently applied, particularly after swimming or towelling himself dry.
Feeding didn’t prove to be a problem either. There was already a blood donation service within Atlantis, with almost all of the expedition regularly contributing. No-one seemed to mind that large amounts of this donated blood were being consumed by the Colonel.
Rodney had asked him, once, if the different blood types tasted differently. Sheppard hadn’t been able to answer, although he had admitted that blood from those with the ancient gene was more satisfying and that heating up donated blood wasn’t as pleasant as direct feeding.
It took Rodney several weeks to allow Sheppard to feed on him again, but with his new found regular access to blood stocks, Sheppard had more control, and it turned out that there was a way to make the feeding very pleasurable for the ‘victim’, so, really, it worked out well all around.
Author: bluejbird
Rating: PG, I guess
Summary: After a trip offworld John undergoes some changes…and it takes Rodney some time to notice. Featuring Undead!John and numerous bad vampire clichés.
A/N: Originally written as a comment!fic for the awesome rain_dances, who also came up with the title.
Sheppard was leaning against the wall outside Rodney’s door when the scientist opened it and peered blearily out.
”Do you have any idea what time it is?” he asked, testily, and Sheppard shrugged.
“Sorry, I’m a bit of a night owl.”
Rodney gave an irritating grunt and stepped back. “Well?” he asked, after the Colonel didn’t move. “Are you coming in or not?”
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “I guess I’m just waiting to be invited in.”
Rodney rolled his eyes and made a sweeping gesture. “Colonel Sheppard, would you please do me the honour of stepping inside my quarters at oh-god-too-early in the morning?”
Sheppard smirked and pushed himself off the wall, following Rodney in.
Rodney collapsed back on the bed, then opened one eyelid. “Sit down,” he ordered, “or do you need to be invited to do that too?”
He moved his legs and Sheppard perched himself on the edge of the bed in that awfully graceful way he had that made Rodney hate him just a little bit.
”Are you wearing a leather coat?” he asked, frowning.
”Yes,” Sheppard said defensively. “So? Halling gave it to me.”
Rodney snorted. “You do realise that the environmental settings negate the need for such outer garments, right?”
Sheppard shrugged. “I’m cold blooded, I can’t help it.”
Rodney sighed and sat up. “Well, I’m fully awake now,” he bitched. “What do you want?”
The Colonel shrugged again and shifted further onto the bed. “Nothing, really. Just wanted to see what you were doing.”
Rodney opened his mouth then closed it, gave Sheppard a funny look, and pushed himself out of bed. “I’m hungry,” he said. “Do you want anything? I’ve got some of those spaghetti MREs somewhere.”
Sheppard recoiled slightly. “Uh, no, thanks. They put a bit too much garlic in for my tastes.”
“Oh,” Rodney said. “Er, powerbar then?” he offered, and when Sheppard nodded, he started to rummage through a drawer. Muttering in annoyance, he grabbed a handful of random junk and tossed it onto the bed.
Sheppard hissed and stood up suddenly, backing away from the bed.
“Sorry,” Rodney said, grabbing everything and dumping it back in the drawer. “I can’t seem to find any.”
The Colonel was staring at something silver on the bed, and Rodney reached out and picked it up, looking sheepish. ”I know, I know,” he said, dangling the tiny crucifix from his hand. “Religion is just a load of mumbo jumbo. But Jeannie gave me this, years ago, when I first went away to university, and…I guess it’s sort of a good luck charm. Not that I believe in that sort of thing. Not like you pilots,” he added, swinging the charm towards Sheppard, who jumped back, and then gave a forced laugh.
Rodney frowned and dropped the crucifix back into his drawer.
“Steak!” he exclaimed suddenly, whirling around. The Colonel was against the far wall now, eyes wide.
”W-what?” Sheppard stammered. “What do you-“
“The mess was serving steak for dinner,” Rodney explained. “I bet they’ve still got some. We could go down there and see, if you want?”
Sheppard seemed to relax slightly, but then Rodney tipped his head to the side and rubbed his neck. “And, you know, we could stop by the infirmary and see if Carson will give me anything for this neck pain I’ve been having,” he added.
Sheppard licked his lips, then shook his head. “No, um, I really have to go and do a…a thing…with…um, anyway I’ll see you. Tomorrow. Or…yeah,” he said, and bolted for the door.
Rodney stared at the door to his now empty room and frowned. He wondered briefly what was wrong with the Colonel. He’d not seem him all day- not since they’d got back from that weird goth planet. Rodney had always thought the Colonel was a little strange, but this was very odd indeed. He made a mental note to ask the Colonel about it tomorrow over breakfast and then heated up an MRE (which had just the right amount of garlic, so he didn’t know what Sheppard was complaining about). Then he went back to bed and had exceedingly odd dreams of Sheppard hovering over his bed, smiling down at him, lips stained red and tongue sliding across pointed teeth.
Rodney awoke the next morning feeling cranky and un-rested. He stumbled into the shower, fumbled into his uniform and grabbed his laptop before making his way to the mess.
“Where’s Sheppard?” he asked as he slid into the seat beside Teyla. Opposite her, Ronon was devouring a massive plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and chomping his way through a tower of toast.
“I believe the Colonel is unwell today,” Teyla replied, calmly sipping her tea. “He radioed Dr Weir this morning to ask not to be disturbed.”
Rodney frowned down at his breakfast and started to eat. “Hmm,” he said. “He was acting a little strange last night. Maybe he caught something when we were offworld yesterday?"
Ronon gave a non-commital grunt.
"Well, I'm sure the Colonel will be overjoyed to learn how concerned his team are for his well-being," Rodney said, after he finished his meal. "I'll stop by on my way to the lab. I mean, I wouldn't expect either of you to take time out of your busy schedules of hitting each other with sticks to visit him."
He stood, giving Teyla and Ronon a pointed look and then flounced out of the mess, heading toward Sheppard's quarters, and was immediately waylaid by a panicked scientist who was clearly trying to kill them all with her stupidity.
By the time the crisis had been averted and he'd shouted at everyone in the labs, it was after lunch, and so Rodney stole some sandwiches that Zelenka had fetched for himself from the mess, and headed towards the Colonel's room.
The bell chimed, and there was a long pause. "Who is it?" Sheppard called.
"It's me," Rodney said, and there was no answer, which he decided to take as permission to go inside.
“And I thought I was the one allergic to sunlight!” Rodney pointed out as he stepped into Sheppard’s darkened room. “Why have you hung towels over the windows? What’s wrong with you?”
He moved towards them, intent on letting the sunshine in.
”Don’t!” Sheppard practically shouted, making Rodney jump.
”Fine,” Rodney snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why have you moved your bed away from the windows? And have you been to the infirmary? You’re looking very pale.”
The Colonel pouted.
“Rodney?” Sheppard asked, sounding vaguely pitiful. “Can I ask you a very important question?”
“Of course,” Rodney replied, frowning.
“How does my hair look?”
Rodney stared at him. “What?”
“My hair,” Sheppard repeated. “I can’t see it. How does it look.”
“The same as always,” Rodney answered tetchily. “Completely stupid. Although I’m sure you’ve got dozens of mirrors lying around. If fact I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d spent the entire morning staring at yourself in them.”
“I can’t see myself,” Sheppard said miserably.
Rodney stared at him in panic. “What’s wrong? Did something happen? Is it your eyes?”
Sheppard made a sniffling noise. “No,” he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest and lowering his head. “My eyesight is better than ever. All of my senses are. I can smell the ocean, even though the windows are closed. And I can hear your heart beating, Rodney.”
Rodney frowned and sat down beside him. “Colonel?” he said. “John?”
Sheppard looked up and Rodney gasped. “Your eyes are bleeding,” he said in alarm, reaching out and wiping a drop of blood away from Sheppard’s cheek. He held his finger up in front of Sheppard to show him, and the Colonel’s face changed. He looked almost...hungry as he stared at Rodney's finger, and then, before Rodney knew what was happening, Sheppard had sucked Rodney's finger into his mouth.
"Um," Rodney said awkwardly, not knowing how to react at his team leader, military commander of Atlantis, sucking on his finger.
"Er, Colonel do you think- OW!" he exclaimed, trying to pull his hand back as something sharp and needle like pricked the end of his finger. "Sheppard, let me go!"
Sheppard released him and Rodney scooted away, staring at his hand. "Did you bite me?" he asked incredulously, looking at the blood welling on his finger tip.
"Sorry," Sheppard said, then lunged at Rodney as he moved to put it into his own mouth. "Don't!" he said. "I mean...it's not very hygienic," he added, and Rodney stood up, moving into the Colonel's bathroom. He rinsed his finger until it had stopped bleeding, then went back out. Sheppard was still sitting huddled on his bed, but he was smiling a little now, some colour back in his cheeks.
Rodney frowned. “I think you need to go to the infirmary,” he said, eying Sheppard warily. “And I’m going to-“
“Doctor McKay, please report to the labs,” a voice spoke in his ear.
He tapped his earpiece. “On my way,” he said, then shot John an apologetic look.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, and John smirked.
”I think I’ll survive without your nagging. Go and save the city with your enormous brain,” John replied.
“Oh, bite me,” Rodney snapped, good naturedly, then hurried out the door.
~~~
Rodney went back to lab and almost forgot about John in the excitement over a new ancient device that had been found in the bowels of the city. For several hours it looked like it had the potential to rid the galaxy of the Wraith. In the end it turned out to be an ancient waffle iron.
It was almost midnight by the time Rodney managed to drag himself back to his quarters, and was surprised when the lights didn’t come on as he entered.
He frowned at the control panel- hoping it wasn’t a city wide malfunction.
“Sorry.”
Rodney jumped and spun around. Sheppard was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking pale and sickly again.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Rodney asked, and commanded the lights to come on.
Sheppard shrugged. “I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Did you go to the infirmary?” Rodney questioned and Sheppard avoided looking at him before shaking his head.
“Colonel you should really-“
“Can we just hang out for awhile?” Sheppard asked, sounding petulant. We never just hang anymore.”
“Oh,” Rodney said, feeling slightly guilty. “We’ve both been very busy. But we could hang out now. Cadman lent me some Buffy DVDs. Want to watch them?”
Sheppard winced and shook his head.
Rodney huffed. “Well, then, what do you want to do?”
Sheppard patted the bed beside him. “Sit with me. I need…” he trailed off, looking away as Rodney came and sat beside him. Then he fixed his eyes on Rodney’s with an intense gaze.
”Rodney?” Sheppard said. “Please. I need you to trust me.”
“Of course I trust you,” Rodney said, calmly. Calmly, at least, until Sheppard leant forward and nuzzled his neck. And then there was a sharp pain in his neck and he cried out, flailing, but Sheppard held on, face pressed into Rodney’s neck and-
He woke up in the infirmary. There was an IV in his hand, attached to a blood bag beside his bed. He sat up, feeling a little light headed.
“He’s awake!” one of the nurses called, and there were sounds of a scuffle outside his room.
“I want to see him!” he heard Sheppard demand. “I’m going in there. You can’t stop me.”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
That was Lorne, and Rodney could hear that odd worrying tone in his voice that he got whenever he was saying something the Colonel wasn’t going to like hearing. “We won’t let you in. You’ve already, by your own admission, injured Dr McKay. You can’t see him.”
Rodney frowned. Sheppard, injure him? That was impossible. In fact, he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten injured in the first place, or what his injuries were.
There was a thick padded bandage on his neck and he strained to see it, before picking up a nearby metal bowl and using it as a mirror. Slowly, wincing, he pulled the bandage away to reveal two neat holes over his jugular.
“Huh,” he said, and then something crashed outside his room. There were shouts and banging and Lorne and several marines shouting.
Rodney sighed, and rolled his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, making sure his IV was still attached and wheeled it to the door.
He pushed it open and stared at the chaos. Two marines were in a heap at one end of the room, one with his P90 bent in half, another marine was standing a few feet away, obviously guarding the door to Rodney’s room. Sheppard was standing in the centre of the room, looking furious and Lorne was approaching him slowly, arms outstretched placatingly.
“You know, some people are trying to recover from what appears to be severe blood loss,” Rodney snapped loudly, and all eyes turned to him. “But I’m sure whatever you’re all doing is much more important, so please, carry on.”
“Rodney,” Sheppard said, staring at him. His eyes flicked to the bloodbag on the stand beside Rodney and he licked his lips nervously.
“Anyone care to explain what the hell happened to me?” Rodney asked, folding his arms as best he could with the IV attached. “Did I happen to fall and land on a toaster fork?”
“You were attacked,” Lorne said, shooting Sheppard a wary glance. “Sheppard-“
The Colonel looked scared, which was starting to scare Rodney.
“-is coming in here to explain to me what happened,” Rodney cut Lorne off. “Alone,” he added as the Major started to protest. He glared at the room at large, and then turned and stomped back to the uncomfortable infirmary bed.
He heard the door close and he looked up. “Well?” he asked.
Sheppard just stared down at him.
“I’m glad to see you’re looking better, at least,” Rodney said, settling himself more comfortably and patting the edge of the mattress for Sheppard to sit. And he was right- Sheppard’s colour was back, he’d lost that haunted look around his eyes, and even his hair was looking perkier.
“I’m so sorry,” Sheppard said, hesitantly sitting down at the very foot of his bed. “I…it was me. I attacked you. I didn’t think it would go that far…I thought I could stop…”
Rodney frowned at him. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Sheppard bared his teeth. Rodney stared. And then he noticed how pointy the Colonel’s canines were. Really pointy, in fact. Pointy enough to pierce skin. And situated what looked to be exactly the same distance apart as the marks on Rodney’s neck.
“Huh,” Rodney said, trying not to freak out.
“I just wanted a taste,” Sheppard said. “Needed a taste. You don’t know what it’s like, the hunger…it makes my veins ache, my heart clench. I was starving…I didn’t think…I’m sorry.”
Rodney stared at him so more, and then, very calmly, called for a doctor.
~~~
“Interesting,” Biro said.
Sheppard was sitting on an examination table, shirt off, as Biro prodded and probed him with various pieces of equipment.
“Apart from the brain activity and the enhanced senses and the superhuman strength, you’re completely dead.”
“That’s impossible,” Rodney said, back on his feet and in uniform. He was actually feeling upbeat and lively, although he was unsure if this was due to the adrenalin or new blood coursing through his veins (and he hoped to god Kavanagh hadn’t been a donor).
Biro raised an eyebrow at him. “So is travelling between galaxies in the blink of an eye. So is finding the lost city of Atlantis. So is-“
“Yes, yes, yes,” Rodney waved an impatient hand at her. “I see your point. What I want to know is…how?” He gave Sheppard a pointed look, and the Colonel had obviously just ingested some more blood, as he flushed red and wouldn’t meet Rodney’s eyes. Doctor Biro gave a discreet cough and left the room.
“Colonel,” Rodney said warningly, and Sheppard sighed.
“There was this girl-” he started to say, but Rodney cut him off with a bark of laughter.
“Of course there was,” Rodney said. “Let me guess- we were on that weird Goth planet, some pretty young thing batted her overly-blackened lashes at you and asked you to come to her room to listen to emo music and slit your wrists together. And then she bit you and-“
“It’s all a bit vague,” Sheppard cut in, waving a hand up towards his head.
Eventually Rodney got the whole story out of him, which was pretty much what he’d suggested had happened, with some added Sheppard biting the girl back moments that made him feel jealous (because oddly, sickly, strangely, he wanted to be the only one Sheppard would bite).
“Elizabeth says I have to stay here in the infirmary for awhile,” Sheppard said, pouting, lips stained slightly from the mug of warmed donor blood Biro had given him earlier.
“Yes, well, I brought research material,” Rodney said, picking up the box he’d brought with him, and tipping it out onto the infirmary bed. DVDs and books tumbled out- ‘Interview with a Vampire’, ‘Anne Rice’, ‘Dracula’ (in numerous forms), ‘Evolution’, ‘Buffy’ and countless others.
“You know,” Rodney added after Sheppard had rolled his eyes and they’d started to sift through, “I’m slightly concerned for the mental wellbeing of some of the members of this expedition. I mean, working in a galaxy where we have Space Vampires- and now, so it would seem, ordinary vampires too,” he added, nodding at Sheppard, who made a face, “wouldn’t make me want to watch or read any of this stuff too often. And yet there’s an abundance of it.”
They sat in silence, sorting through the media, looking for anything that might provide insight into Sheppard’s situation.
At some point in the afternoon, Sheppard looked up from where he was a few pages into The Vampire Lestat. “You know, maybe it won’t be so bad,” he remarked. “This guy is a rock star.”
Rodney rolled his eyes and tossed an Angel box set at him. “And this guy is a tortured soul, fighting the forces of evil, looking hot in leather and being generally broody. I wonder which one you’re more likely to be, hmm?”
Sheppard smirked at him. “You think I look hot in leather?” he asked, and Rodney spluttered and blushed and buried himself in an Anita Blake book, which, he discovered a chapter or so in, really wasn’t helping matters.
~~~
In the end it turned out no-one was particularly bothered that the Military Commander of Atlantis was undead. In fact, it turned out to be very useful- his super strength was invaluable in a fight and his enhanced senses meant he could see and hear things the rest couldn’t. Rodney had fashioned a new uniform for him that minimised the amount of sunlight Sheppard was exposed to and insisted he wear sunglasses that were more efficient than stylish (although it did start a new trend among the Athosians who worryingly appeared to look towards Sheppard for their fashion inspiration), and (much to Sheppard’s annoyance and Rodney’s glee) they discovered that Rodney’s homemade SPF100 sunscreen was sufficient to protect Sheppard’s exposed skin as long as it was frequently applied, particularly after swimming or towelling himself dry.
Feeding didn’t prove to be a problem either. There was already a blood donation service within Atlantis, with almost all of the expedition regularly contributing. No-one seemed to mind that large amounts of this donated blood were being consumed by the Colonel.
Rodney had asked him, once, if the different blood types tasted differently. Sheppard hadn’t been able to answer, although he had admitted that blood from those with the ancient gene was more satisfying and that heating up donated blood wasn’t as pleasant as direct feeding.
It took Rodney several weeks to allow Sheppard to feed on him again, but with his new found regular access to blood stocks, Sheppard had more control, and it turned out that there was a way to make the feeding very pleasurable for the ‘victim’, so, really, it worked out well all around.