by magus_minor, 2
Challenge: Shark II
Title: Obvious Place
Author: magus_minor
Summary: Sequel to Out of Sight. What if the knife shows?
Rating: mature for various reasons, and I'd be obliged if you'd take this seriously.
Pairing: in a very messed up way, McShep
Spoilers: yes
Disclaimer: We do not own these characters. This is merely a hobby. We are making no money and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: How dark can you go? It wouldn't leave me alone.
Obvious Place
See the shark with teeth like razors
You can read his open face
And Macheath, he's got a knife, and
In such an obvious place.
- The Threepenny Opera, 1976 Version on Broadway, Ralph Manheim and John Willett
It's when John sees the scar on Rodney's arm, pulling on whole flesh, raised and purple against the pale skin, that he thinks, tonight. Tonight, and it's been weeks. It'll be good. It'll take his edge off, letting the knife blade show. Not for long, just a while.
He doesn't know how he spends the day working next to Rodney, pretending nothing is wrong, there's no secret he could tell, and that he doesn't have a care in the world, save for fixing this whatever it is. John couldn't care less. The knife is hidden. That's the important thing.
Zelenka and Rodney are talking incessantly, so he doesn't even have to make conversation a lot, save for the occasional snarky comment to keep them off the track. He tunes out what they say, just listens to Rodney's voice, hearing it without hearing the words. Overlaid with a different cadence, one of pain and humiliation, of near-hysterical pleading, of promising everything from money, to coffee, to sex to get that knife away from him.
John concentrates on breathing, and lets himself wonder how he would feel this if Kolya had taken Rodney up on that offer instead of looking disgusted, as his soldiers laughed, joking amongst themselves what Rodney would have to offer in that department.
Rodney's climbed on a chair to get at the circuits, and John braces the splintered pillar they're in. They make a good team, Zelenka comments and John fires off something offensive that Rodney laughs at. Zelenka just shakes his head. Boys will be boys, he seems to think, and turns away, leaving John to his thoughts.
Rodney begging sounds so broken and perfect. Occasionally, John wonders how he manages not to give himself away when he has to listen to that voice every day. But then, he's the only one who knows about this. He's the only one who's seen that tape. Once the Genii were dead and lightning had raced through the city, and everyone had come back, there was chaos. Beckett out of commission with concussion, Rodney doctoring himself (and doing a piss-poor job of it), Elizabeth sitting down in Grodin's arms with shock. Nobody noticed how John copied the file to his laptop, then erased the surveillance record of that whole day. Nobody caught him. Nobody knew about the knife.
Rodney's done and climbing down. He's too close, so John turns and makes a stupid comment about the pillar. Rodney rolls his eyes, Zelenka finds it hysterical, and offers John a bottle of moonshine for his help.
It's good. And soon, it'll be better.
As the door closes behind him, the bottle's already open. Barring emergencies, he'll be undisturbed for hours.
He hesitates. Usually, he'd wait till at least 2 a.m. Today, he doesn't think he can. Not when he's been listening to Rodney's voice all day.
The moonshine burns going down, and he welcomes it. Rodney's scar is in his mind's eye, and John's already hard. But today, he'll make it to the confessing before coming, he tells himself. He wants to come to that voice, high and fast, betraying them, giving everything away, after just one little cut. He wants that so much it hurts.
More moonshine, and the laptop's turned on. Hidden where nobody would ever look for it, the file, marked, simply, drr052. He starts the program, and it cuts right in. Elizabeth is led out, Kolya's asking Rodney questions. The knife comes out soon, and John has to grip himself hard to make this last. The way Rodney's intonation changes, the stumbling over words, and during all of it, Kolya calm as anything.
There go the promises. John strokes himself once, just once, when Rodney's offering, in his own bumbling way, a blowjob, and the soldiers laugh. He's come to that laugh too often - this time, he'll make it last.
The cutting nearly does him in, but he holds on, eyes on the screen, mouth open, and oh, finally, the tears and the confession. John lets himself have it, comes and comes to the sound of Rodney McKay betraying Atlantis, betraying them all, so very weak, and for a moment he's not sure if he's just passed out.
He just lies there, eyes closed, listening to the increasingly hysterical pleading for no more pain, no more, I'll tell you everything, and sighs. God, Rodney.
The sound cuts off. John frowns. It was on repeat, wasn't it?
But when he opens his eyes, Rodney's standing there, one hand still on the laptop's touchpad, face unreadable and white.
End.
Title: Obvious Place
Author: magus_minor
Summary: Sequel to Out of Sight. What if the knife shows?
Rating: mature for various reasons, and I'd be obliged if you'd take this seriously.
Pairing: in a very messed up way, McShep
Spoilers: yes
Disclaimer: We do not own these characters. This is merely a hobby. We are making no money and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: How dark can you go? It wouldn't leave me alone.
Obvious Place
See the shark with teeth like razors
You can read his open face
And Macheath, he's got a knife, and
In such an obvious place.
- The Threepenny Opera, 1976 Version on Broadway, Ralph Manheim and John Willett
It's when John sees the scar on Rodney's arm, pulling on whole flesh, raised and purple against the pale skin, that he thinks, tonight. Tonight, and it's been weeks. It'll be good. It'll take his edge off, letting the knife blade show. Not for long, just a while.
He doesn't know how he spends the day working next to Rodney, pretending nothing is wrong, there's no secret he could tell, and that he doesn't have a care in the world, save for fixing this whatever it is. John couldn't care less. The knife is hidden. That's the important thing.
Zelenka and Rodney are talking incessantly, so he doesn't even have to make conversation a lot, save for the occasional snarky comment to keep them off the track. He tunes out what they say, just listens to Rodney's voice, hearing it without hearing the words. Overlaid with a different cadence, one of pain and humiliation, of near-hysterical pleading, of promising everything from money, to coffee, to sex to get that knife away from him.
John concentrates on breathing, and lets himself wonder how he would feel this if Kolya had taken Rodney up on that offer instead of looking disgusted, as his soldiers laughed, joking amongst themselves what Rodney would have to offer in that department.
Rodney's climbed on a chair to get at the circuits, and John braces the splintered pillar they're in. They make a good team, Zelenka comments and John fires off something offensive that Rodney laughs at. Zelenka just shakes his head. Boys will be boys, he seems to think, and turns away, leaving John to his thoughts.
Rodney begging sounds so broken and perfect. Occasionally, John wonders how he manages not to give himself away when he has to listen to that voice every day. But then, he's the only one who knows about this. He's the only one who's seen that tape. Once the Genii were dead and lightning had raced through the city, and everyone had come back, there was chaos. Beckett out of commission with concussion, Rodney doctoring himself (and doing a piss-poor job of it), Elizabeth sitting down in Grodin's arms with shock. Nobody noticed how John copied the file to his laptop, then erased the surveillance record of that whole day. Nobody caught him. Nobody knew about the knife.
Rodney's done and climbing down. He's too close, so John turns and makes a stupid comment about the pillar. Rodney rolls his eyes, Zelenka finds it hysterical, and offers John a bottle of moonshine for his help.
It's good. And soon, it'll be better.
As the door closes behind him, the bottle's already open. Barring emergencies, he'll be undisturbed for hours.
He hesitates. Usually, he'd wait till at least 2 a.m. Today, he doesn't think he can. Not when he's been listening to Rodney's voice all day.
The moonshine burns going down, and he welcomes it. Rodney's scar is in his mind's eye, and John's already hard. But today, he'll make it to the confessing before coming, he tells himself. He wants to come to that voice, high and fast, betraying them, giving everything away, after just one little cut. He wants that so much it hurts.
More moonshine, and the laptop's turned on. Hidden where nobody would ever look for it, the file, marked, simply, drr052. He starts the program, and it cuts right in. Elizabeth is led out, Kolya's asking Rodney questions. The knife comes out soon, and John has to grip himself hard to make this last. The way Rodney's intonation changes, the stumbling over words, and during all of it, Kolya calm as anything.
There go the promises. John strokes himself once, just once, when Rodney's offering, in his own bumbling way, a blowjob, and the soldiers laugh. He's come to that laugh too often - this time, he'll make it last.
The cutting nearly does him in, but he holds on, eyes on the screen, mouth open, and oh, finally, the tears and the confession. John lets himself have it, comes and comes to the sound of Rodney McKay betraying Atlantis, betraying them all, so very weak, and for a moment he's not sure if he's just passed out.
He just lies there, eyes closed, listening to the increasingly hysterical pleading for no more pain, no more, I'll tell you everything, and sighs. God, Rodney.
The sound cuts off. John frowns. It was on repeat, wasn't it?
But when he opens his eyes, Rodney's standing there, one hand still on the laptop's touchpad, face unreadable and white.
End.