Christmas Gifts (1/1)
Title: Christmas Gifts
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: Evan/David
Word Count: 1,247
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Merry Christmas, everyone :) I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and a great 2011!
For their first Christmas together, Evan gives David a small potted tree that he doesn’t know the name of, and David gives Evan a sketchbook and some drawing pencils.
They’ve only been dating for four months. It’s okay.
For their second Christmas, Evan gets David a slightly larger potted tree that he’s careful to memorize the name of, and David gets Evan a roll of heavy canvas and a few new paintbrushes.
Their smiles to each other are fond, and that’s Christmas enough for them.
Their fourth Christmas is spent in the infirmary, David slumped over Evan’s bed while the monitors beep around them, and he prays to a God he hasn’t believed in for a long time for a Christmas miracle, for Evan to wake up, for him to even squeeze David’s hand.
Evan’s eyes blink open somewhere around midnight, and it’s like no other gift David has ever gotten.
For their sixth Christmas, Evan gives David a solid platinum wedding ring, and David says yes.
For their eighth Christmas, they don’t get each other anything, because they’re too busy changing nappies and jumpsuits and tiny shoes, wondering if they’re really going to be able to do this, wondering at the tiny babies in their arms, wondering about writing thank-you cards to the majority of the population of Atlantis for giving them gifts for their children.
They settle into the couch at night, Robbie in Evan’s arms while David holds Angel, and Evan leans his head on David’s shoulder and thinks that his little unorthodox family is probably the best gift he’s ever been given.
For their eleventh Christmas, Evan gets David limping across their quarters, a soft smile on his bruised face, and Evan gently brushes at the marks he hadn’t been able to prevent. David turns and kisses Evan’s palm, and Evan can feel him warm and alive and still here, and as the kids crawl sleepily into bed with them, Evan closes his eyes and thanks the God he’s starting to trust again for everything that this means to him.
Their thirteenth Christmas together is the first they spend on Earth; they stay with Evan’s mother the week before the holiday and with David’s the week after, and it’s a whirlwind of parties and cookies and gifts. The kids love it, but David thinks the best gift is that he can have his family, all of it, and they don’t have to pretend that it’s anything other than what it is.
For their fifteenth Christmas, David gives Evan a framed photo of their family from the vacation they’d taken that summer. Robbie and Angel, then six, had mercifully sat and behaved for long enough to snap the photo, though they’d run off soon after; Evan smiles when he sees it in its frame. Evan gives David a manila envelope and watches as David reads the papers inside, his smile growing until he just laughs and puts the papers down and kisses Evan again and again.
It’s retirement, it’s a desk job, but it’s a way to stay in Atlantis.
Their nineteenth Christmas is spent in the infirmary again, because Robbie and Angel both caught Kirsen fever and are miserable about the entire experience. They’re a little too old for it, but Evan convinces one of the Marines to dress up as Santa and bring in a bag of gifts, and the look on the faces of his children and his husband is absolutely worth the chocolate he’d had to trade for it.
Their twentieth Christmas should be a big deal, but there’s an emergency on Christmas Eve that means that Evan’s going to have to work through the day, so David settles for bringing the kids by the office Evan now inhabits and letting them drop off their gifts.
Later, when Evan finally slips into bed, he’s exhausted. David hands him a small box and Evan opens it; there’s another ring in it, identical to the set they already wear.
“Marry me again,” David whispers, and this time, it’s Evan who says yes.
For their twenty-sixth Christmas, they move from the quarters they raised their kids in to a smaller space in a tower that’s farther from the main part of the City. Robbie’s on Earth, accepted to MIT with a glowing recommendation from McKay, and Angel’s in her first year at the Academy. They’re both incredibly proud of their children in ways neither can even begin to explain.
Evan gives David a handcrafted wooden box, filled with mementos from the twins’ childhood. David gives Evan a photo album full of the same.
For their thirty-third Christmas, they’re back on Earth again, because Robbie wanted to hold the ceremony there. Lizzie had just rolled her eyes and agreed, but she’d promised that she’d get him signed into the program as soon as she could, and they’d be home.
For their fortieth Christmas together, they sit on the balcony of their quarters on Atlantis and wonder how they made it, wonder how they didn’t die a thousand different times in a million different ways.
“I didn’t know what to get you,” Evan confesses at some point. David takes his hand and squeezes it gently.
“You’ve given me everything I could ever have needed,” he says softly. “And, even better, you’ve given me everything I could ever have wanted.”
Evan squeezes his hand back. “We’ve had a pretty good run of it, haven’t we?”
David smiles. “We’ve certainly got some good stories to tell at the family reunions.”
Evan snorts. “Too bad it’s all still classified.” Declassification has been going on slowly, oh-so-slowly, for the better part of ten years; Evan privately thinks that O’Neill insisted they wait until after he was gone to do it, so the man who’d been there at the start wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“I got you something,” David says, and he hands Evan the paper-light viewscreen that passes for a datapad these days. Evan takes a moment to revel in how sleek, how ridiculously futuristic it seems before smiling to himself and thinking about how much he sounds like his father had when he’d first seen a laptop. He scrolls through the document displayed on the screen, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“David, what is this?”
“It’s a book,” David replies. “It’s about you. Us.”
It’s easily a thousand pages long, and as Evan jumps from chapter to chapter, he sees words about his life, about David’s about their kids and their grandkids. There are parts about missions and there are reflections, some showing David’s easy tone, others more sarcastic, a few sweet. “Who…”
“I got some help,” David admits softly. “I asked everyone I could think of to contribute whatever they could.”
Evan draws in a shaky breath as he reads one at random. It’s from Cam Mitchell, which is impossible, because the man has been gone for almost two years now. “David-”
“I’ve been working on it for a long time,” David says to the question Evan hadn’t had to ask. “What do you think?”
Evan doesn’t know what to say, is honestly speechless for the first time in years. This is, without a doubt, the best gift he’s ever been given. “Thank you,” he finally manages. “You - God, David. I can’t even-”
“Merry Christmas,” David replies, a smile on his face as he kisses Evan’s temple.
Evan wraps his trembling arms around David’s thin frame, pulling the other man to his own body. “Merry Christmas.”
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: Evan/David
Word Count: 1,247
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Merry Christmas, everyone :) I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season and a great 2011!
For their first Christmas together, Evan gives David a small potted tree that he doesn’t know the name of, and David gives Evan a sketchbook and some drawing pencils.
They’ve only been dating for four months. It’s okay.
For their second Christmas, Evan gets David a slightly larger potted tree that he’s careful to memorize the name of, and David gets Evan a roll of heavy canvas and a few new paintbrushes.
Their smiles to each other are fond, and that’s Christmas enough for them.
Their fourth Christmas is spent in the infirmary, David slumped over Evan’s bed while the monitors beep around them, and he prays to a God he hasn’t believed in for a long time for a Christmas miracle, for Evan to wake up, for him to even squeeze David’s hand.
Evan’s eyes blink open somewhere around midnight, and it’s like no other gift David has ever gotten.
For their sixth Christmas, Evan gives David a solid platinum wedding ring, and David says yes.
For their eighth Christmas, they don’t get each other anything, because they’re too busy changing nappies and jumpsuits and tiny shoes, wondering if they’re really going to be able to do this, wondering at the tiny babies in their arms, wondering about writing thank-you cards to the majority of the population of Atlantis for giving them gifts for their children.
They settle into the couch at night, Robbie in Evan’s arms while David holds Angel, and Evan leans his head on David’s shoulder and thinks that his little unorthodox family is probably the best gift he’s ever been given.
For their eleventh Christmas, Evan gets David limping across their quarters, a soft smile on his bruised face, and Evan gently brushes at the marks he hadn’t been able to prevent. David turns and kisses Evan’s palm, and Evan can feel him warm and alive and still here, and as the kids crawl sleepily into bed with them, Evan closes his eyes and thanks the God he’s starting to trust again for everything that this means to him.
Their thirteenth Christmas together is the first they spend on Earth; they stay with Evan’s mother the week before the holiday and with David’s the week after, and it’s a whirlwind of parties and cookies and gifts. The kids love it, but David thinks the best gift is that he can have his family, all of it, and they don’t have to pretend that it’s anything other than what it is.
For their fifteenth Christmas, David gives Evan a framed photo of their family from the vacation they’d taken that summer. Robbie and Angel, then six, had mercifully sat and behaved for long enough to snap the photo, though they’d run off soon after; Evan smiles when he sees it in its frame. Evan gives David a manila envelope and watches as David reads the papers inside, his smile growing until he just laughs and puts the papers down and kisses Evan again and again.
It’s retirement, it’s a desk job, but it’s a way to stay in Atlantis.
Their nineteenth Christmas is spent in the infirmary again, because Robbie and Angel both caught Kirsen fever and are miserable about the entire experience. They’re a little too old for it, but Evan convinces one of the Marines to dress up as Santa and bring in a bag of gifts, and the look on the faces of his children and his husband is absolutely worth the chocolate he’d had to trade for it.
Their twentieth Christmas should be a big deal, but there’s an emergency on Christmas Eve that means that Evan’s going to have to work through the day, so David settles for bringing the kids by the office Evan now inhabits and letting them drop off their gifts.
Later, when Evan finally slips into bed, he’s exhausted. David hands him a small box and Evan opens it; there’s another ring in it, identical to the set they already wear.
“Marry me again,” David whispers, and this time, it’s Evan who says yes.
For their twenty-sixth Christmas, they move from the quarters they raised their kids in to a smaller space in a tower that’s farther from the main part of the City. Robbie’s on Earth, accepted to MIT with a glowing recommendation from McKay, and Angel’s in her first year at the Academy. They’re both incredibly proud of their children in ways neither can even begin to explain.
Evan gives David a handcrafted wooden box, filled with mementos from the twins’ childhood. David gives Evan a photo album full of the same.
For their thirty-third Christmas, they’re back on Earth again, because Robbie wanted to hold the ceremony there. Lizzie had just rolled her eyes and agreed, but she’d promised that she’d get him signed into the program as soon as she could, and they’d be home.
For their fortieth Christmas together, they sit on the balcony of their quarters on Atlantis and wonder how they made it, wonder how they didn’t die a thousand different times in a million different ways.
“I didn’t know what to get you,” Evan confesses at some point. David takes his hand and squeezes it gently.
“You’ve given me everything I could ever have needed,” he says softly. “And, even better, you’ve given me everything I could ever have wanted.”
Evan squeezes his hand back. “We’ve had a pretty good run of it, haven’t we?”
David smiles. “We’ve certainly got some good stories to tell at the family reunions.”
Evan snorts. “Too bad it’s all still classified.” Declassification has been going on slowly, oh-so-slowly, for the better part of ten years; Evan privately thinks that O’Neill insisted they wait until after he was gone to do it, so the man who’d been there at the start wouldn’t have to deal with it.
“I got you something,” David says, and he hands Evan the paper-light viewscreen that passes for a datapad these days. Evan takes a moment to revel in how sleek, how ridiculously futuristic it seems before smiling to himself and thinking about how much he sounds like his father had when he’d first seen a laptop. He scrolls through the document displayed on the screen, eyes narrowing in confusion.
“David, what is this?”
“It’s a book,” David replies. “It’s about you. Us.”
It’s easily a thousand pages long, and as Evan jumps from chapter to chapter, he sees words about his life, about David’s about their kids and their grandkids. There are parts about missions and there are reflections, some showing David’s easy tone, others more sarcastic, a few sweet. “Who…”
“I got some help,” David admits softly. “I asked everyone I could think of to contribute whatever they could.”
Evan draws in a shaky breath as he reads one at random. It’s from Cam Mitchell, which is impossible, because the man has been gone for almost two years now. “David-”
“I’ve been working on it for a long time,” David says to the question Evan hadn’t had to ask. “What do you think?”
Evan doesn’t know what to say, is honestly speechless for the first time in years. This is, without a doubt, the best gift he’s ever been given. “Thank you,” he finally manages. “You - God, David. I can’t even-”
“Merry Christmas,” David replies, a smile on his face as he kisses Evan’s temple.
Evan wraps his trembling arms around David’s thin frame, pulling the other man to his own body. “Merry Christmas.”