"Search and Rescue" Tag
Title: none
Author: Negolith2
Rating: G
Spoilers: If'n ya haven't seen "Search & Rescue" yet, ya might want to hold off.
Summary: Just a wee little scene I thought up this morning while trying to sleep in. Why is it a 12 pound cat can triple the gravity in their feet when they walk all over you?
John brought the dart around, and despite the fatigue and pain making every movement feel like it was being done under thirty feet of water, he made the smoothest, gentlest landing of his career. Of course, of all the times he ferried brass and diplomats, and even wounded, he’d never had a passenger this important.
The only sound the kid made was a tiny, barely heard indignant squawk when the dart’s shield canopy disappeared and the cool air hit him.
John wrapped Rodney’s shirt a little closer around him and couldn’t help smiling. He couldn’t believe Rodney of all people helped Teyla deliver her baby. He wondered who had screamed more….
The image was interrupted by Ronon suddenly popping up beside the cockpit. John was too exhausted to even react. “Hey,” Ronon said and grinned. With the cuts, dirt, and his own exhaustion showing through, he looked like some maniac killer out of a grade-z horror film. But his eyes were bright and alive and dancing with a joy John had rarely seen in them. Ronon held out his hands and John carefully passed the baby over. The kid looked like a doll in the big guy’s sure grasp, and a smile came to his face as he cradled the baby against his chest before he dropped back out of sight.
John glanced around the cockpit. Getting into the dart had been a total bitch. Getting out was going to be even worse. He got a good grip on the lip and pulled himself up. Standing was quite difficult due to the one person, form-fitting design, but he managed to get his feet braced on either side of the flight controls. Ronon suddenly appeared again, and this time John did flinch. He didn’t quite stop the hiss of pain as his side let him know that it had finally reached its limit. Ronon shifted and John growled out, “I got it.”
“I know.” The little grin on the Satedan’s face spoke nothing but understanding and a tiny bit of smug pride.
John grunted. He maneuvered until he could swing his left leg over the rim of the cockpit. Getting the right one over was a bitch, and he had to take a second to just sit there and catch his breath. Now that all the battle adrenaline had worn off, he wanted nothing more than to just collapse and sleep. Before he slid out onto the wing he glanced back into the cockpit and noticed the half butt print in blood on the seat. Yeah, those temporary stitches were probably gone. He had to give the doc credit - they lasted when he needed them.
Ronon jumped down off the wing and waited close by. John stood, and using Ronon’s shoulder as a hand hold, got down less gracefully. Teyla and Rodney were watching him in concern, Rodney more so it seemed. “Hey, Teyla - I wish all my passengers were as quiet as that little guy,” he said as he slowly ambled over to them. Rodney frowned briefly, but then he was grinning again as if he was the proud poppa. “Though he probably isn’t the first who’s needed diapers.”
Teyla smiled tiredly. “Did he sleep the entire time?”
“Like a … babe.”
The said babe made a little noise and Teyla caught one tiny hand as it came free of his makeshift swaddling and tucked it back in. Everyone leaned in a touch closer, and they all had matching goofy grins.
John was the first to step back. He looked at his tired, bedraggled team in the pale pre-dawn light and some of his own exhaustion seemed to temporarily lift. His team. His friends. His family. The smile that lit his face was barely discernable, but was content beyond measure.
“Let’s go home, guys.”