Fic: Sick Cycle Carousel
Title: Sick Cycle Carousel
Author: lavvyan
Spoilers: Set somewhere in season two, Ronon is part of the team, no further spoilers except for "Grace Under Pressure". The blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Notes: I meant to do something completely different, except I got stuck, and then this popped up, demanding to be written. The title is from a song by Lifehouse.
"I believe that sometimes you have to look reality in the eye and deny it." - Garrison Keillor
***
Sick Cycle Carousel
"Rodney."
"Hm?"
The scientist didn't even look up from his scanner as they walked through the cool forest, but then again, John hadn't really expected him to. Pretending he wasn't the least bit nervous and trying to appear suave and confident, he cleared his throat in what he hoped was an attention-catching manner.
"You should go see Carson," Rodney said absently. "If you catch a cold, you're probably going to infect us all, which, frankly, I really don't have time for. Can you imagine what might happen to the city while I'm-"
"Rodney." A little more forceful this time, and it seemed to do the trick, because finally, Rodney looked up.
"What?"
John smiled.
"You got any plans for tonight?" he asked casually, ignoring the way his heart was pounding. He'd been agonising over this for days, after finally making up his mind to not run away from this thing between him and Rodney any longer. Life was short, carpe diem, all that stuff.
Rodney blinked.
"Yes? Sleeping?"
John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That's what you got when you tried to ask out a socially oblivious scientist the subtle way.
"I thought we could grab dinner together."
"That's what we do almost every-" Rodney began, but John just went on.
"And then catch a movie. Maybe... talk." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, throwing Teyla a dirty look when she let out something suspiciously close to a giggle.
"Talk?" Confusion was written across Rodney's face. God help him, but John thought it was cute.
"Yes, talk. You know," he added, stepping into Rodney's personal space so that they were mere inches apart, "we should have been talking for months. Unless you don't want to." And yeah, that was insecurity speaking, because it was always possible that he'd read the whole situation entirely wrong. After all, he hardly ever saw these things coming - he just wasn't good at flirting.
"Unless I..." Rodney's mouth snapped shut, and he stared at John, comprehension blooming on his face. "Talking?" he squeaked.
"Unless you don't want to." John tried very hard not to sigh in relief at the dark look that earned him.
"Please. I'd have to be stupid not to want that. Do I strike you as stupid, hm? Anyone?"
Teyla and Ronon obediently shook their heads, both openly grinning now.
"Cool. It's a date, then." Delighted, John slapped Rodney's shoulder before he resumed his way down the barely visible path. That had gone better than he'd hoped.
"Yes. It's a... date."
Rodney smiled shyly, a new bounce in his step as they approached the nearby village. John couldn't help smiling back.
Tonight, they'd talk. And if things went like he was planning, they'd be doing a little more after that.
***
Scenario parameters set.
Commence evaluation.
The dart hits the side of John's neck while he's trying to stop Rodney from bleeding out on the damp forest floor. The natives have once again been less than friendly, and Rodney's been shot when the team tried to get away. They've still managed to lose their pursuers, but after not even a mile of sneaking through the woods trying to make their way back to the Gate, Rodney has simply lost consciousness mid-step, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
Judging by the amount of blood that is already soaking the dirty green moss and dead leaves, whatever the locals have shot him with has hit something vital.
John's vision begins to blur as the dart's drug hits his system, his grip on the pressure bandage he's pushing against Rodney's side slipping despite all his efforts to hold on. Behind him, he can hear Ronon and Teyla slump to the ground.
"No," he protests, his body already listing to the side. If he gives in now, Rodney will die, meaninglessly, on the damp earth of some backwater planet, killed by paranoid natives. But the tranquillizer is stronger, pulling him under, his hand letting go of the bandage as he goes down, his numb body never feeling the impact.
The last thing he sees before his eyes fall shut is Rodney's still form.
***
He woke up on the dirty floor of a crude, wooden cage. Groaning, he sat up, shaking his head against the dizziness that followed.
"John."
Teyla's hand on his arm, her expression serious. Ronon was standing, face pressed against the bars. He couldn't see Rodney, but...
Rodney.
"Where's McKay?"
"I do not know. John-"
He stood up, ignoring her, holding himself upright with a white-knuckled grip around the uneven bars.
"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey!"
A young man came over to their cage, dressed in simple leather clothes.
"What do you want? The eldest will talk to you soon enough."
"The other one who was with us." If he could have, John would have bashed the boys indifferent face against the bars. "The fourth one, where is he?"
"He was already dead. We left him for the wild beasts to feed upon."
The young man added something, but John wasn't listening. His blood was roaring in his ears, and he sat down again, heavily, as his knees gave out.
This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after he'd finally gotten his act together and asked Rodney on a date. It wasn't... it wasn't fair.
This couldn't be happening.
The eldest summoned them about two hours later, the boy John had been talking to standing behind his chair. John wanted nothing more than to kill the little old man, kill them both, and by the looks of it, so did Ronon. He held them both back, though, sitting in silence while Teyla negotiated for their freedom.
Another hour, and they could leave. Just like that. Just grab their things - minus the weapons, of course - and go.
They made their way back through the forest, four of the villagers escorting them. Rodney was still lying where they had left him, his skin a sickly grey. All hopes John had carried that maybe the natives had been wrong, maybe Rodney wasn't dead, evaporated when he touched his friend, turned him over. Rodney's neck was bluish and blotchy where it hadn't touched the ground, his limbs slightly stiff. Bile rose in John's throat as he brushed the dead leaves from Rodney's face, the skin under his fingertips cold and not giving an inch.
Rodney was gone.
Detaching himself from his emotions, John turned to Ronon.
"Can you carry him to the Gate?"
The Satedan nodded, easily scooping up Rodney's body. The way to the gate seemed longer than before, spent in stony silence. It just seemed wrong to talk when the one of them who had done it the most... couldn't.
The hours after their return blurred together like the faces on some sick merry-go-round, the spinning only slowing after the debriefing was over, the strong stuff was brought out all over the city, and John found himself standing in the morgue.
The room's environmental controls had been set to freezing cold, but he couldn't feel it through the fuzzy numbness that was encasing him. His attention was focussed the nearest table, on the outline of a body he recognized even though it was covered by a long sheet. Hesitantly, John stepped closer, grabbed the sheet, and pulled it down to reveal Rodney's pale face.
"Take your time, Colonel," Carson had said in sympathy, but this wouldn't take long.
John looked around to see if anyone was watching him. Spotting no one nearby, he gave in to temptation and pressed his hand against Rodney's cold cheek in a final goodbye.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," he told his friend. "You weren't supposed to die."
The only answer he got was dead silence.
***
Rewind.
Erase.
Rodney's body jerking back as the alien projectile enters his side. Running through the underbrush, the movement driving the bullet further into his flesh, making the blood run more freely. Body giving in to shock and trauma, brain shutting down as he starts to fall.
Hands against his side, frantically trying to save him, only to disappear when the man they belong to is drugged into unconsciousness.
Dying on the forest floor while his friends are carried away.
Replay.
***
He woke up on the dirty floor of a crude, wooden cage. Groaning, he sat up, shaking his head against the dizziness that followed.
"Colonel?"
Rodney crouched in front of him, his hand on John's shoulder feeling warm and familiar. Ronon was standing, face pressed against the bars, while Teyla calmly met John's gaze from where she was sitting in the corner.
"What happened?"
Rodney answered his question, his sharp words belying his worry.
"We got tranquillised, again, that's what happened. I honestly don't know why we're even trying anymore; this galaxy is filled with unsophisticated, mindless, filthy savages without an ounce of nobility. No offence," he added hastily at Ronon's dark look.
John shook his head again, this time at Rodney.
"Help me up."
Rodney's grip was a little shaky as he pulled John to his feet, another evidence of his nervousness. John gave his hand a quick squeeze before stepping up to the bars.
"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey!"
A young man came over to their cage, dressed in simple leather clothes.
"What do you want? The eldest will talk to you soon enough."
The boy's voice was hostile, even though his face betrayed no emotion.
"What I want is an explanation. We came here to trade. Not to be locked up like criminals."
"What do you want?" the boy repeated, seemingly not having heard a word. John gritted his teeth.
"Let me and my team go."
This time, the young man gave him a bright, false, smile.
"The eldest will talk to you. Soon."
'Soon' was another two hours of waiting before they were brought to a small, simple hut at the centre of the village. The eldest was a tiny old man with sharp black eyes, staring down on them from his enormous chair. The young man John had been talking to was standing behind him. He grinned at John when they entered.
"What is it you desire of us?" the eldest wanted to know, and Teyla launched her usual spiel about becoming trading partners and allies against the Wraith. When all her attempts were met with refusal, she switched over to negotiating for their release.
"Very well," the eldest finally said, looking straight at John for the first time. "I will - how did you put it? I will let your team go."
Ah. That kind of deal.
"Let us drink to this, as the leaders we are," the old man continued. A cup was placed before John. He looked at Ronon, who shrugged, and at Teyla, who seemed uncomfortable without really knowing why. At Rodney, who was glaring at the eldest and his boy, lips pressed together to form a thin, crooked line. Who wanted to have dinner with him tonight, had smiled so softly at the word 'date'.
The liquid was clear, flavourless, leaving no aftertaste as he swallowed. Nothing happened, and for a moment, John allowed himself to hope that he had misunderstood the old man's offer, that he hadn't just agreed to trade himself for the safety of his friends. Then his limbs started to tingle, and his body went numb.
The cup fell from his hands.
Dimly, he noticed Ronon jumping up, Teyla starting to yell, but he couldn't focus on it as the room began to tilt. Strong arms caught him as his body slid to the ground, carefully cradling him to a warm chest. John opened his mouth to speak, but all he managed was a faint wheeze.
"r'dney..."
Over the rush of blood in his ears, he could hear Rodney whispering, "This isn't happening, oh God, please, this isn't happening..."
Then the world faded away.
***
Rewind.
Erase.
The poison eating its way through John's veins, dissolving cells and burning blood. Organs failing as they are flooded with toxin, body shutting down under the strain.
Desperate pleas for him to hang on, never noticed as the poison reaches his brain, destroying his mind, destroying him.
Dying twitching and drooling in front of the smiling eldest while his friends are dragged to the Gate.
Replay.
***
He woke up on the dirty floor of a crude, wooden cage. Groaning, he sat up, shaking his head against the dizziness that followed.
"Colonel?"
Rodney crouched in front of him, his hand on John's shoulder feeling warm and familiar. Ronon was standing, face pressed against the bars, while Teyla calmly met John's gaze from where she was sitting in the corner.
"What happened?"
Rodney answered his question, his sharp words belying his worry.
"We got tranquillised, again, that's what happened. I honestly don't know why we're even trying anymore; this galaxy is filled with unsophisticated, mindless, filthy savages without an ounce of nobility. No offence," he added hastily at Ronon's dark look.
John shook his head again, this time at Rodney, regretting that move when it made the dizziness grow worse. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up all intentions of standing up right then, settling back against the uneven bars. After a moment's hesitation, Rodney sat down next to him, their shoulders touching.
John fought the urge to lean in closer, but then he thought, what the hell, and shifted until he could rest his head on Rodney's shoulder. Paying attention in the field and being alert was one thing, but if you were locked up in a cage, there really wasn't all that much to do about it, was there? Rodney froze for a moment, then he relaxed and gave a nervous little huff. When John looked up, Teyla was smiling at them, and even Ronon just snorted briefly before he returned to watching the villagers from his place at the bars. John nodded, and closed his eyes, listening to Rodney breathe.
They sat like that for a long time.
After a few hours, their cage was opened, and they were brought to a small, simple hut at the centre of the village. The eldest was a tiny old man with sharp black eyes, staring down on them from his enormous chair. A young man was standing behind him, probably his son or aide or something like that.
"What is it you desire of us?" the eldest wanted to know, and Teyla launched her usual spiel about becoming trading partners and allies against the Wraith. When all her attempts were met with refusal, she switched over to negotiating for their release.
"Very well," the eldest finally said, looking straight at John for the first time. "If you promise never to return, you may go unharmed."
"And by that you mean all four of us, right?" John asked, suspicious. He had learned that village elders sometimes tended to be a little too ambiguous to take them at face value.
The old man smiled at that and nodded slightly.
"A true leader, I see. So be it. You and your people may leave."
They made their way back along the path, four of the villagers escorting them. When they reached the Gate, the young man who had been with the eldest spoke up.
"You will not return. If you do, there will be no further talking before we kill you."
"Oh, believe me, we can see when we are unwanted," John replied, and motioned for Rodney to dial Atlantis and send their code.
They stepped through the Gate without looking back.
***
Sequence successful.
Program terminated.
Set auto-destruct.
Commence countdown.
***
He woke to the mattress dipping under the weight of another body, sighing in content as he felt Rodney's warmth settle against his back.
"What took you so long?" John asked sleepily, turning his head in search for a kiss.
"Sorry," Rodney mumbled, already leaning in. Their mouths met with an easy confidence born out of familiarity, their tongues greeting each other like old friends as they kissed. Rodney tasted like coffee and potato chips, traces of a long day in the labs. John didn't care, chasing the flavours until they had disappeared, and all that was left was Rodney, warm and well-known.
"So, what took you so long?" John asked again when they finally pulled apart. His lover snorted.
"You remember the artefact Lorne's team brought from M7A-571 two months ago, the one that looked like a miniature telephone booth?"
"The one we both tried to turn on, but nothing happened?"
Rodney hummed in agreement. "That very one. Radek wanted to carry out further studies, only he claims that when he wanted to check it out from storage this morning, all he found inside the box was dust."
"Huh. That's strange."
"Isn't it?"
With his usual routine of muttering and shifting, Rodney settled down again, so that his body was spooning John's, arm sneaking around his waist. John smiled a little, glad that over the last weeks, they'd progressed to a point where they could simply spend the night together, without the necessity of having sex. Not that the sex wasn't great, but sometimes, all John really wanted was closeness.
They'd had a few dates to see if they were 'compatible', a rather lame excuse for fear of commitment on both sides. Rodney wasn't the easiest person to go out with, and John knew that his own quirks were something that needed getting used to. Still, to his surprise, Rodney had been almost painfully shy in the beginning, something John hadn't expected, and which had left him stumped.
He suspected the distinct lack of romance in their relationship stemmed from Rodney's fear that he'd be laughed at if he so much as suggested a picnic. Which was kind of sad, actually, and not at all what John had been going for. He fully intended to change that, though.
"I asked Elizabeth if we could take one of the Jumpers out to M4X-779," he said casually. "You know, watch the supernova. Collect invaluable data. She said we could take the one with the shield."
Around his waist, Rodney's arm tightened.
"For real?" The question sounded a little awed, and John smiled.
"Yeah."
For real.
***
End.
Author: lavvyan
Spoilers: Set somewhere in season two, Ronon is part of the team, no further spoilers except for "Grace Under Pressure". The blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Notes: I meant to do something completely different, except I got stuck, and then this popped up, demanding to be written. The title is from a song by Lifehouse.
"I believe that sometimes you have to look reality in the eye and deny it." - Garrison Keillor
***
Sick Cycle Carousel
"Rodney."
"Hm?"
The scientist didn't even look up from his scanner as they walked through the cool forest, but then again, John hadn't really expected him to. Pretending he wasn't the least bit nervous and trying to appear suave and confident, he cleared his throat in what he hoped was an attention-catching manner.
"You should go see Carson," Rodney said absently. "If you catch a cold, you're probably going to infect us all, which, frankly, I really don't have time for. Can you imagine what might happen to the city while I'm-"
"Rodney." A little more forceful this time, and it seemed to do the trick, because finally, Rodney looked up.
"What?"
John smiled.
"You got any plans for tonight?" he asked casually, ignoring the way his heart was pounding. He'd been agonising over this for days, after finally making up his mind to not run away from this thing between him and Rodney any longer. Life was short, carpe diem, all that stuff.
Rodney blinked.
"Yes? Sleeping?"
John resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That's what you got when you tried to ask out a socially oblivious scientist the subtle way.
"I thought we could grab dinner together."
"That's what we do almost every-" Rodney began, but John just went on.
"And then catch a movie. Maybe... talk." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, throwing Teyla a dirty look when she let out something suspiciously close to a giggle.
"Talk?" Confusion was written across Rodney's face. God help him, but John thought it was cute.
"Yes, talk. You know," he added, stepping into Rodney's personal space so that they were mere inches apart, "we should have been talking for months. Unless you don't want to." And yeah, that was insecurity speaking, because it was always possible that he'd read the whole situation entirely wrong. After all, he hardly ever saw these things coming - he just wasn't good at flirting.
"Unless I..." Rodney's mouth snapped shut, and he stared at John, comprehension blooming on his face. "Talking?" he squeaked.
"Unless you don't want to." John tried very hard not to sigh in relief at the dark look that earned him.
"Please. I'd have to be stupid not to want that. Do I strike you as stupid, hm? Anyone?"
Teyla and Ronon obediently shook their heads, both openly grinning now.
"Cool. It's a date, then." Delighted, John slapped Rodney's shoulder before he resumed his way down the barely visible path. That had gone better than he'd hoped.
"Yes. It's a... date."
Rodney smiled shyly, a new bounce in his step as they approached the nearby village. John couldn't help smiling back.
Tonight, they'd talk. And if things went like he was planning, they'd be doing a little more after that.
***
Scenario parameters set.
Commence evaluation.
The dart hits the side of John's neck while he's trying to stop Rodney from bleeding out on the damp forest floor. The natives have once again been less than friendly, and Rodney's been shot when the team tried to get away. They've still managed to lose their pursuers, but after not even a mile of sneaking through the woods trying to make their way back to the Gate, Rodney has simply lost consciousness mid-step, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
Judging by the amount of blood that is already soaking the dirty green moss and dead leaves, whatever the locals have shot him with has hit something vital.
John's vision begins to blur as the dart's drug hits his system, his grip on the pressure bandage he's pushing against Rodney's side slipping despite all his efforts to hold on. Behind him, he can hear Ronon and Teyla slump to the ground.
"No," he protests, his body already listing to the side. If he gives in now, Rodney will die, meaninglessly, on the damp earth of some backwater planet, killed by paranoid natives. But the tranquillizer is stronger, pulling him under, his hand letting go of the bandage as he goes down, his numb body never feeling the impact.
The last thing he sees before his eyes fall shut is Rodney's still form.
***
He woke up on the dirty floor of a crude, wooden cage. Groaning, he sat up, shaking his head against the dizziness that followed.
"John."
Teyla's hand on his arm, her expression serious. Ronon was standing, face pressed against the bars. He couldn't see Rodney, but...
Rodney.
"Where's McKay?"
"I do not know. John-"
He stood up, ignoring her, holding himself upright with a white-knuckled grip around the uneven bars.
"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey!"
A young man came over to their cage, dressed in simple leather clothes.
"What do you want? The eldest will talk to you soon enough."
"The other one who was with us." If he could have, John would have bashed the boys indifferent face against the bars. "The fourth one, where is he?"
"He was already dead. We left him for the wild beasts to feed upon."
The young man added something, but John wasn't listening. His blood was roaring in his ears, and he sat down again, heavily, as his knees gave out.
This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after he'd finally gotten his act together and asked Rodney on a date. It wasn't... it wasn't fair.
This couldn't be happening.
The eldest summoned them about two hours later, the boy John had been talking to standing behind his chair. John wanted nothing more than to kill the little old man, kill them both, and by the looks of it, so did Ronon. He held them both back, though, sitting in silence while Teyla negotiated for their freedom.
Another hour, and they could leave. Just like that. Just grab their things - minus the weapons, of course - and go.
They made their way back through the forest, four of the villagers escorting them. Rodney was still lying where they had left him, his skin a sickly grey. All hopes John had carried that maybe the natives had been wrong, maybe Rodney wasn't dead, evaporated when he touched his friend, turned him over. Rodney's neck was bluish and blotchy where it hadn't touched the ground, his limbs slightly stiff. Bile rose in John's throat as he brushed the dead leaves from Rodney's face, the skin under his fingertips cold and not giving an inch.
Rodney was gone.
Detaching himself from his emotions, John turned to Ronon.
"Can you carry him to the Gate?"
The Satedan nodded, easily scooping up Rodney's body. The way to the gate seemed longer than before, spent in stony silence. It just seemed wrong to talk when the one of them who had done it the most... couldn't.
The hours after their return blurred together like the faces on some sick merry-go-round, the spinning only slowing after the debriefing was over, the strong stuff was brought out all over the city, and John found himself standing in the morgue.
The room's environmental controls had been set to freezing cold, but he couldn't feel it through the fuzzy numbness that was encasing him. His attention was focussed the nearest table, on the outline of a body he recognized even though it was covered by a long sheet. Hesitantly, John stepped closer, grabbed the sheet, and pulled it down to reveal Rodney's pale face.
"Take your time, Colonel," Carson had said in sympathy, but this wouldn't take long.
John looked around to see if anyone was watching him. Spotting no one nearby, he gave in to temptation and pressed his hand against Rodney's cold cheek in a final goodbye.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," he told his friend. "You weren't supposed to die."
The only answer he got was dead silence.
***
Rewind.
Erase.
Rodney's body jerking back as the alien projectile enters his side. Running through the underbrush, the movement driving the bullet further into his flesh, making the blood run more freely. Body giving in to shock and trauma, brain shutting down as he starts to fall.
Hands against his side, frantically trying to save him, only to disappear when the man they belong to is drugged into unconsciousness.
Dying on the forest floor while his friends are carried away.
Replay.
***
He woke up on the dirty floor of a crude, wooden cage. Groaning, he sat up, shaking his head against the dizziness that followed.
"Colonel?"
Rodney crouched in front of him, his hand on John's shoulder feeling warm and familiar. Ronon was standing, face pressed against the bars, while Teyla calmly met John's gaze from where she was sitting in the corner.
"What happened?"
Rodney answered his question, his sharp words belying his worry.
"We got tranquillised, again, that's what happened. I honestly don't know why we're even trying anymore; this galaxy is filled with unsophisticated, mindless, filthy savages without an ounce of nobility. No offence," he added hastily at Ronon's dark look.
John shook his head again, this time at Rodney.
"Help me up."
Rodney's grip was a little shaky as he pulled John to his feet, another evidence of his nervousness. John gave his hand a quick squeeze before stepping up to the bars.
"Hey!" he hollered. "Hey!"
A young man came over to their cage, dressed in simple leather clothes.
"What do you want? The eldest will talk to you soon enough."
The boy's voice was hostile, even though his face betrayed no emotion.
"What I want is an explanation. We came here to trade. Not to be locked up like criminals."
"What do you want?" the boy repeated, seemingly not having heard a word. John gritted his teeth.
"Let me and my team go."
This time, the young man gave him a bright, false, smile.
"The eldest will talk to you. Soon."
'Soon' was another two hours of waiting before they were brought to a small, simple hut at the centre of the village. The eldest was a tiny old man with sharp black eyes, staring down on them from his enormous chair. The young man John had been talking to was standing behind him. He grinned at John when they entered.
"What is it you desire of us?" the eldest wanted to know, and Teyla launched her usual spiel about becoming trading partners and allies against the Wraith. When all her attempts were met with refusal, she switched over to negotiating for their release.
"Very well," the eldest finally said, looking straight at John for the first time. "I will - how did you put it? I will let your team go."
Ah. That kind of deal.
"Let us drink to this, as the leaders we are," the old man continued. A cup was placed before John. He looked at Ronon, who shrugged, and at Teyla, who seemed uncomfortable without really knowing why. At Rodney, who was glaring at the eldest and his boy, lips pressed together to form a thin, crooked line. Who wanted to have dinner with him tonight, had smiled so softly at the word 'date'.
The liquid was clear, flavourless, leaving no aftertaste as he swallowed. Nothing happened, and for a moment, John allowed himself to hope that he had misunderstood the old man's offer, that he hadn't just agreed to trade himself for the safety of his friends. Then his limbs started to tingle, and his body went numb.
The cup fell from his hands.
Dimly, he noticed Ronon jumping up, Teyla starting to yell, but he couldn't focus on it as the room began to tilt. Strong arms caught him as his body slid to the ground, carefully cradling him to a warm chest. John opened his mouth to speak, but all he managed was a faint wheeze.
"r'dney..."
Over the rush of blood in his ears, he could hear Rodney whispering, "This isn't happening, oh God, please, this isn't happening..."
Then the world faded away.
***
Rewind.
Erase.
The poison eating its way through John's veins, dissolving cells and burning blood. Organs failing as they are flooded with toxin, body shutting down under the strain.
Desperate pleas for him to hang on, never noticed as the poison reaches his brain, destroying his mind, destroying him.
Dying twitching and drooling in front of the smiling eldest while his friends are dragged to the Gate.
Replay.
***
He woke up on the dirty floor of a crude, wooden cage. Groaning, he sat up, shaking his head against the dizziness that followed.
"Colonel?"
Rodney crouched in front of him, his hand on John's shoulder feeling warm and familiar. Ronon was standing, face pressed against the bars, while Teyla calmly met John's gaze from where she was sitting in the corner.
"What happened?"
Rodney answered his question, his sharp words belying his worry.
"We got tranquillised, again, that's what happened. I honestly don't know why we're even trying anymore; this galaxy is filled with unsophisticated, mindless, filthy savages without an ounce of nobility. No offence," he added hastily at Ronon's dark look.
John shook his head again, this time at Rodney, regretting that move when it made the dizziness grow worse. With a frustrated sigh, he gave up all intentions of standing up right then, settling back against the uneven bars. After a moment's hesitation, Rodney sat down next to him, their shoulders touching.
John fought the urge to lean in closer, but then he thought, what the hell, and shifted until he could rest his head on Rodney's shoulder. Paying attention in the field and being alert was one thing, but if you were locked up in a cage, there really wasn't all that much to do about it, was there? Rodney froze for a moment, then he relaxed and gave a nervous little huff. When John looked up, Teyla was smiling at them, and even Ronon just snorted briefly before he returned to watching the villagers from his place at the bars. John nodded, and closed his eyes, listening to Rodney breathe.
They sat like that for a long time.
After a few hours, their cage was opened, and they were brought to a small, simple hut at the centre of the village. The eldest was a tiny old man with sharp black eyes, staring down on them from his enormous chair. A young man was standing behind him, probably his son or aide or something like that.
"What is it you desire of us?" the eldest wanted to know, and Teyla launched her usual spiel about becoming trading partners and allies against the Wraith. When all her attempts were met with refusal, she switched over to negotiating for their release.
"Very well," the eldest finally said, looking straight at John for the first time. "If you promise never to return, you may go unharmed."
"And by that you mean all four of us, right?" John asked, suspicious. He had learned that village elders sometimes tended to be a little too ambiguous to take them at face value.
The old man smiled at that and nodded slightly.
"A true leader, I see. So be it. You and your people may leave."
They made their way back along the path, four of the villagers escorting them. When they reached the Gate, the young man who had been with the eldest spoke up.
"You will not return. If you do, there will be no further talking before we kill you."
"Oh, believe me, we can see when we are unwanted," John replied, and motioned for Rodney to dial Atlantis and send their code.
They stepped through the Gate without looking back.
***
Sequence successful.
Program terminated.
Set auto-destruct.
Commence countdown.
***
He woke to the mattress dipping under the weight of another body, sighing in content as he felt Rodney's warmth settle against his back.
"What took you so long?" John asked sleepily, turning his head in search for a kiss.
"Sorry," Rodney mumbled, already leaning in. Their mouths met with an easy confidence born out of familiarity, their tongues greeting each other like old friends as they kissed. Rodney tasted like coffee and potato chips, traces of a long day in the labs. John didn't care, chasing the flavours until they had disappeared, and all that was left was Rodney, warm and well-known.
"So, what took you so long?" John asked again when they finally pulled apart. His lover snorted.
"You remember the artefact Lorne's team brought from M7A-571 two months ago, the one that looked like a miniature telephone booth?"
"The one we both tried to turn on, but nothing happened?"
Rodney hummed in agreement. "That very one. Radek wanted to carry out further studies, only he claims that when he wanted to check it out from storage this morning, all he found inside the box was dust."
"Huh. That's strange."
"Isn't it?"
With his usual routine of muttering and shifting, Rodney settled down again, so that his body was spooning John's, arm sneaking around his waist. John smiled a little, glad that over the last weeks, they'd progressed to a point where they could simply spend the night together, without the necessity of having sex. Not that the sex wasn't great, but sometimes, all John really wanted was closeness.
They'd had a few dates to see if they were 'compatible', a rather lame excuse for fear of commitment on both sides. Rodney wasn't the easiest person to go out with, and John knew that his own quirks were something that needed getting used to. Still, to his surprise, Rodney had been almost painfully shy in the beginning, something John hadn't expected, and which had left him stumped.
He suspected the distinct lack of romance in their relationship stemmed from Rodney's fear that he'd be laughed at if he so much as suggested a picnic. Which was kind of sad, actually, and not at all what John had been going for. He fully intended to change that, though.
"I asked Elizabeth if we could take one of the Jumpers out to M4X-779," he said casually. "You know, watch the supernova. Collect invaluable data. She said we could take the one with the shield."
Around his waist, Rodney's arm tightened.
"For real?" The question sounded a little awed, and John smiled.
"Yeah."
For real.
***
End.