Ficlet: Arms Against a Sea of Troubles
PG. Angst, happiness, kisses.
Thank you maverick4oz for hand-holding, beta and title help (to quote Mav, "when in doubt, quote Hamlet")
Warning. Danger Will Robinson. Spoilers for episode 4x04 Doppelganger.
Teyla's steps, soft as they are, alert John to her approach a moment before her shadow reaches the floor in front of the table. He rips the page from the notebook, beginning to fold the paper in half before changing his mind and shoving the now crumpled paper into his pocket.
"Couldn't sleep," she says, rubbing her hands in the warm night air.
"Yeah, me too." John caps his pen, keeping her gaze.
For a moment she appears frozen in place, trapped between moving away from his company and wanting to join him, the specter of the nightmares still not completely pushed out of memory. And then she smiles, pulls the chair away from the table and sits.
Rodney follows, a tray of food in hand, and Ronon, Doctor Keller and Colonel Carter arrive soon after. Ronon steals food from Rodney's plate and Rodney offers up an obligatory protest before he pushes the plate of sweet potato fries to the center of the table and everyone joins in, the conversation flowing freely.
__________
They leave as they arrived, although not quite in the same order. One-by-one, pushing away from the table and saying their good nights, smiling and touching John's shoulder, his back.
Rodney slides a plate over until it bumps John's elbow. Chocolate chip cookies. A moment later, the glass follows. Milk.
The skin of John's face feels too tight, his eyes feel like they've been rubbed raw with sandpaper. He tries for a smile that fails.
The scrape of the chair moving across the floor echoes in the empty room and the touch of Rodney's hand on the back of his neck is hot, strong. John follows the pressure with no resistance, and he closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. The skin of Rodney's neck is warm and soft and against his deepest instincts he lets himself relax.
The brush of Rodney's lips against his temple, the soft slide of Rodney's fingers down his shoulder and arm and over to his hip anchors John, bringing him closer to sleep.
"What's this?" John can feel the words as Rodney says them, he hears the crinkle of paper as Rodney removes the crumpled mass from his pocket.
"It's nothing. I was. It's just something I was writing before you all arrived." John makes a half-hearted attempt to get the paper from Rodney's hand, lifting his head from Rodney's shoulder. "It's nothing, McKay."
"So nothing that you just shoved it in your pocket. Try again, Colonel." Rodney gives him an appraising look, opening his hand, palm up, offering the paper back to him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to read your latest attempt to be the next man in black."
John takes the paper and gives Rodney a roll of his eyes as a reply, smoothing out the paper on the table before folding it in half.
"C'mon. What say we try and get some sleep?" Rodney pushes back his chair and is collecting the plates from the table when John makes up his mind.
"Here," he says, holding the folded paper between his thumb and forefinger.
Rodney pushes the tray to the center of the table and takes the paper, looking from it to John's face and back again. "You're sure? I don't have to."
"No. I -- Just read it, Rodney."
Rodney's gaze doesn't leave John's face as he unfolds the paper. He clears his throat once and then turns his attention to the sheet of notebook paper and reads.
"John." Rodney's voice is barely above a whisper as his refolds the paper.
Rodney lightly smacks the back of his head and pulls him forward for a kiss. "You idiot. I love you, too."
When Rodney slides the paper back toward John, John covers Rodney's hand with his own, stopping him. "Keep it."
The smile on Rodney's face is unguarded, easy. He turns his hand and laces their fingers, offering a squeeze. "Shall we?"
The note, which Rodney keeps behind his first PhD, where his most sacred documents are held.
Thank you maverick4oz for hand-holding, beta and title help (to quote Mav, "when in doubt, quote Hamlet")
Warning. Danger Will Robinson. Spoilers for episode 4x04 Doppelganger.
Teyla's steps, soft as they are, alert John to her approach a moment before her shadow reaches the floor in front of the table. He rips the page from the notebook, beginning to fold the paper in half before changing his mind and shoving the now crumpled paper into his pocket.
"Couldn't sleep," she says, rubbing her hands in the warm night air.
"Yeah, me too." John caps his pen, keeping her gaze.
For a moment she appears frozen in place, trapped between moving away from his company and wanting to join him, the specter of the nightmares still not completely pushed out of memory. And then she smiles, pulls the chair away from the table and sits.
Rodney follows, a tray of food in hand, and Ronon, Doctor Keller and Colonel Carter arrive soon after. Ronon steals food from Rodney's plate and Rodney offers up an obligatory protest before he pushes the plate of sweet potato fries to the center of the table and everyone joins in, the conversation flowing freely.
__________
They leave as they arrived, although not quite in the same order. One-by-one, pushing away from the table and saying their good nights, smiling and touching John's shoulder, his back.
Rodney slides a plate over until it bumps John's elbow. Chocolate chip cookies. A moment later, the glass follows. Milk.
The skin of John's face feels too tight, his eyes feel like they've been rubbed raw with sandpaper. He tries for a smile that fails.
The scrape of the chair moving across the floor echoes in the empty room and the touch of Rodney's hand on the back of his neck is hot, strong. John follows the pressure with no resistance, and he closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. The skin of Rodney's neck is warm and soft and against his deepest instincts he lets himself relax.
The brush of Rodney's lips against his temple, the soft slide of Rodney's fingers down his shoulder and arm and over to his hip anchors John, bringing him closer to sleep.
"What's this?" John can feel the words as Rodney says them, he hears the crinkle of paper as Rodney removes the crumpled mass from his pocket.
"It's nothing. I was. It's just something I was writing before you all arrived." John makes a half-hearted attempt to get the paper from Rodney's hand, lifting his head from Rodney's shoulder. "It's nothing, McKay."
"So nothing that you just shoved it in your pocket. Try again, Colonel." Rodney gives him an appraising look, opening his hand, palm up, offering the paper back to him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to read your latest attempt to be the next man in black."
John takes the paper and gives Rodney a roll of his eyes as a reply, smoothing out the paper on the table before folding it in half.
"C'mon. What say we try and get some sleep?" Rodney pushes back his chair and is collecting the plates from the table when John makes up his mind.
"Here," he says, holding the folded paper between his thumb and forefinger.
Rodney pushes the tray to the center of the table and takes the paper, looking from it to John's face and back again. "You're sure? I don't have to."
"No. I -- Just read it, Rodney."
Rodney's gaze doesn't leave John's face as he unfolds the paper. He clears his throat once and then turns his attention to the sheet of notebook paper and reads.
"John." Rodney's voice is barely above a whisper as his refolds the paper.
Rodney lightly smacks the back of his head and pulls him forward for a kiss. "You idiot. I love you, too."
When Rodney slides the paper back toward John, John covers Rodney's hand with his own, stopping him. "Keep it."
The smile on Rodney's face is unguarded, easy. He turns his hand and laces their fingers, offering a squeeze. "Shall we?"
The note, which Rodney keeps behind his first PhD, where his most sacred documents are held.