I'm Not Okay: A McShep Companion Piece (G; Angst, Episode Related)
I'm Not Okay: A companion piece to Okay, set during "The Shrine". John can't sleep and it's all Rodney's fault. ~1000 words.
The gentle click clack of the mouse reverberates through the otherwise silent room as John clicks lazily on one card and then the next. His eyes are heavy, his movements sluggish but his mind is racing, refusing to shut off.
He shifts a little and his eyes flicker down to the clock. He needs to be up in less than four hours and he’s exhausted, but sleep is as elusive tonight as it has been for the last week and a half.
John sighs and closes his game of ‘Solitaire’. Closing the lid on Rodney’s favorite laptop, he rolls over and drops it carefully onto the floor beside his bed before he settles back against the pillow. He closes his eyes and wills sleep to come.
He shouldn’t be here; it feels wrong without Rodney pressed up against his back, muttering incoherently and rubbing his hand gently down John’s hip every time he shifts restlessly. He’ll never admit it to anyone, but he sleeps better with Rodney’s warm weight settled beside him and the idea that he’ll never have that again is enough to make John sick.
But Rodney doesn’t remember.
Rodney doesn’t remember the nights they spent together, dozing in a post-sex haze. Rodney doesn’t remember the feeling of John’s hands on his body as John coaxed every bit of tension out of him, leaving him loose and pliant against the mattress. Rodney doesn’t remember that they’re more than teammates, have been now for a few years.
Rodney doesn’t remember and there’s not a God damned thing John can do about it.
John tries to imagine things the way they were. He pictures, in his mind, the way Rodney would sling an arm over his waist and smile fondly at him, even when he thought John was being an idiot. He relaxes against the mattress as he remembers the way Rodney would roll his eyes with that crooked mouth quirked into a half-grin and huff out an indulgent “Jesus, John” whenever John cracked jokes about snuggling scientists.
If he tries hard enough, he can almost hear Rodney calling his name.
John.
John.
“John!”
John jerks upright at the sound of frantic pounding on his door. He nearly face-plants when his long legs get tangled in the sheets, but he rights himself and stumbles over to the door.
“John!”
“Hang on, hang on!” He calls, waving his hand over the crystal.
It’s Rodney. His eyes are wild and frantic as he practically falls into John’s room, fingers gripping John’s shirt. “I, I, I woke up and, and, and you weren’t there!” Rodney gasps. “Why weren’t you there?”
“I’m… sorry, buddy,” John says, rubbing his hand down Rodney’s arm comfortingly. “You were asleep and I just though… well…” He trails off. “I’m sorry.”
Rodney’s chest is heaving like he’s run a marathon as he pulls away from John and covers his face with his hands. “I was so… so scared,” Rodney says, his voice cracking just a little. “I woke up and I was alone and, and, and I was so sure that…” he trails off and looks up at John, stricken. “I was so sure that by morning, what’s left would be all gone.”
“Jesus, Rodney…” John wishes he knew what to say. He wishes he knew how to tell Rodney that everything was going to be okay when he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. “Listen… why don’t you… let me take you back to your room, huh?”
“No!” Rodney swipes a hand over his face and John refuses to believe he’s crying. “I was so scared, John,” he says again. “And… I remember that… before, you know, whenever I…”
“Rodney?”
“You always made it better,” Rodney says in a rush. “I remember that and, and, and I came here and…”
“Okay,” John says. “Okay.” He grabs Rodney’s arms again, fingers digging into skin in a way that John is sure has to be painful, but Rodney never flinches. “You’re still here, Rodney,” John reminds him quietly. “You’re still here.”
Rodney stares up at him, blue eyes wide and confused. He looks like he’s fighting himself on something and a second later, he leans forward and presses his lips to John’s.
John’s freezes for a half a second, startled, before he cups the back of Rodney’s head, drawing him closer. The kiss is passionate and desperate and when they break apart, they’re both breathless.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I, I, I don’t know why I did that. I just… there was… I felt like I should…”
“It’s okay Rodney,” John says. He leans forward and presses his lips to Rodney’s once more, gentle this time as he tries to will Rodney to remember.
He pulls away after a moment and searches Rodney’s eyes. There’s no spark of recognition and John has to swallow around the thick lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Rodney says. “I’m so sorry, John.”
John forces a smile and squeezes Rodney’s arms before he lets go. “You know what? Let’s get out of here for awhile. It’s a nice night, huh? How about we go out to the pier? Drink a couple of beers?”
“I… I drink beer?”
“A lot,” John says with a falsely cheery grin. He grabs a jacket for Rodney and another shirt for himself before he grabs a six-pack out of the small fridge. When he turns back, Rodney is still looking at him and for a moment, there’s a tiny spark of recognition that sends John’s stomach into somersaults. “Rodney?”
Just like that, it’s gone.
He steels himself against the ache in his chest and drops an arm around Rodney’s shoulders as he leads him out of the room. He’s exhausted but he knows sleep won’t come now anyway.
Rodney might not remember everything they’ve shared, but for now, he’s still Rodney and John’s going to take what he can because he knows it won’t be long before Rodney is gone for good.
He just wishes there was some way to make this all okay.
The gentle click clack of the mouse reverberates through the otherwise silent room as John clicks lazily on one card and then the next. His eyes are heavy, his movements sluggish but his mind is racing, refusing to shut off.
He shifts a little and his eyes flicker down to the clock. He needs to be up in less than four hours and he’s exhausted, but sleep is as elusive tonight as it has been for the last week and a half.
John sighs and closes his game of ‘Solitaire’. Closing the lid on Rodney’s favorite laptop, he rolls over and drops it carefully onto the floor beside his bed before he settles back against the pillow. He closes his eyes and wills sleep to come.
He shouldn’t be here; it feels wrong without Rodney pressed up against his back, muttering incoherently and rubbing his hand gently down John’s hip every time he shifts restlessly. He’ll never admit it to anyone, but he sleeps better with Rodney’s warm weight settled beside him and the idea that he’ll never have that again is enough to make John sick.
But Rodney doesn’t remember.
Rodney doesn’t remember the nights they spent together, dozing in a post-sex haze. Rodney doesn’t remember the feeling of John’s hands on his body as John coaxed every bit of tension out of him, leaving him loose and pliant against the mattress. Rodney doesn’t remember that they’re more than teammates, have been now for a few years.
Rodney doesn’t remember and there’s not a God damned thing John can do about it.
John tries to imagine things the way they were. He pictures, in his mind, the way Rodney would sling an arm over his waist and smile fondly at him, even when he thought John was being an idiot. He relaxes against the mattress as he remembers the way Rodney would roll his eyes with that crooked mouth quirked into a half-grin and huff out an indulgent “Jesus, John” whenever John cracked jokes about snuggling scientists.
If he tries hard enough, he can almost hear Rodney calling his name.
John.
John.
“John!”
John jerks upright at the sound of frantic pounding on his door. He nearly face-plants when his long legs get tangled in the sheets, but he rights himself and stumbles over to the door.
“John!”
“Hang on, hang on!” He calls, waving his hand over the crystal.
It’s Rodney. His eyes are wild and frantic as he practically falls into John’s room, fingers gripping John’s shirt. “I, I, I woke up and, and, and you weren’t there!” Rodney gasps. “Why weren’t you there?”
“I’m… sorry, buddy,” John says, rubbing his hand down Rodney’s arm comfortingly. “You were asleep and I just though… well…” He trails off. “I’m sorry.”
Rodney’s chest is heaving like he’s run a marathon as he pulls away from John and covers his face with his hands. “I was so… so scared,” Rodney says, his voice cracking just a little. “I woke up and I was alone and, and, and I was so sure that…” he trails off and looks up at John, stricken. “I was so sure that by morning, what’s left would be all gone.”
“Jesus, Rodney…” John wishes he knew what to say. He wishes he knew how to tell Rodney that everything was going to be okay when he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. “Listen… why don’t you… let me take you back to your room, huh?”
“No!” Rodney swipes a hand over his face and John refuses to believe he’s crying. “I was so scared, John,” he says again. “And… I remember that… before, you know, whenever I…”
“Rodney?”
“You always made it better,” Rodney says in a rush. “I remember that and, and, and I came here and…”
“Okay,” John says. “Okay.” He grabs Rodney’s arms again, fingers digging into skin in a way that John is sure has to be painful, but Rodney never flinches. “You’re still here, Rodney,” John reminds him quietly. “You’re still here.”
Rodney stares up at him, blue eyes wide and confused. He looks like he’s fighting himself on something and a second later, he leans forward and presses his lips to John’s.
John’s freezes for a half a second, startled, before he cups the back of Rodney’s head, drawing him closer. The kiss is passionate and desperate and when they break apart, they’re both breathless.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I, I, I don’t know why I did that. I just… there was… I felt like I should…”
“It’s okay Rodney,” John says. He leans forward and presses his lips to Rodney’s once more, gentle this time as he tries to will Rodney to remember.
He pulls away after a moment and searches Rodney’s eyes. There’s no spark of recognition and John has to swallow around the thick lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Rodney says. “I’m so sorry, John.”
John forces a smile and squeezes Rodney’s arms before he lets go. “You know what? Let’s get out of here for awhile. It’s a nice night, huh? How about we go out to the pier? Drink a couple of beers?”
“I… I drink beer?”
“A lot,” John says with a falsely cheery grin. He grabs a jacket for Rodney and another shirt for himself before he grabs a six-pack out of the small fridge. When he turns back, Rodney is still looking at him and for a moment, there’s a tiny spark of recognition that sends John’s stomach into somersaults. “Rodney?”
Just like that, it’s gone.
He steels himself against the ache in his chest and drops an arm around Rodney’s shoulders as he leads him out of the room. He’s exhausted but he knows sleep won’t come now anyway.
Rodney might not remember everything they’ve shared, but for now, he’s still Rodney and John’s going to take what he can because he knows it won’t be long before Rodney is gone for good.
He just wishes there was some way to make this all okay.