New Year’s Done Wrong
Dec. 12th, 2012 09:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinkhcTitle: New Year’s Done Wrong
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Prompt: Confession in a Desperate Situation
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1,170
Warnings: No Standard Warnings Apply
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Rodney tries to say something that needs saying.
Happy Holidays fortheladymore
“Oh, c’mon Rodney, it’ll be fun, he says. We’ll have a nice feast at Alpas to celebrate the holidays, he says. A cakewalk of a mission, he says,” Rodney muttered and scowled at Sheppard. “For future reference, this is not my definition of a good time, Sheppard!” Of all the times for Teyla to stay behind, when they needed her here to calm the natives and interpret native no-no they had broken this time. He shifted against the wood behind him, trying to get loose, but he had been expertly bound.
Ronon was crumpled in a heap beside the fire pit. When things had suddenly gone very wrong and turned violent, Ronon had done his best to fight them off Sheppard, but he had been overwhelmed by sheer numbers and conked over the head with a staff. He and Sheppard had been tied and bound to thick stakes. Alarmingly, the natives had begun to stack wood and kindling around their feet. Drummers had come near the fire, chosen comfortable spots to sit and were thumping out a steady rhythmic beat to accompany the frightening preparations.
“Burned at the stake! This was not the way I imagined going out, Sheppard! This is no way to spend New Years!” he shouted.
Blinking stupidly, Sheppard rolled his head in Rodney’s direction. Like Ronon, he’d been knocked around quite a bit and had not been able to continue fighting when he had been swarmed by natives. Rodney suspected he had a concussion. “Sorry, Rodney,” he said, eyeing the steadily rising pile of firewood.
The simple apology as well as the genuine regret in John’s eyes silenced the complaint that was forming on his tongue. “We’re not getting out of this, are we?”
John shook his head and looked over at Ronon, now being tied, still unconscious, to a third stake. “There’s three hours until we miss check in.”
“Yeah, and THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIENDLY PLANET!!!” he screamed at the men arranging chunks of wood around him. They ignored him. “Not even a last meal? You guys suck!” Rodney called out. He tried wriggling, but couldn’t move.
“Sheppard, tell me you have a knife and you’re going to pull a last minute save. Please.”
Sheppard shook his head slowly and looked at him sadly. “No, sorry, Rodney. I can’t move.” Like Rodney, he was wrapped from neck to knee with ropes. There was blood dripping from John’s nose and ear, and Rodney was sure he had a concussion, if not a skull fracture.
“We’re going to die,” Rodney said quietly. When John didn’t answer him, he became certain of it. He began thinking of all the things he hadn’t done, the things he hadn’t said. Things were going so well with Jeannie now, too. He had a family that cared about him, that might even miss him. He was glad Sheppard and Teyla had guilted him into sending a Christmas gift for Madison this year. At least she’d have the inscribed physics book to remember him by in years to come.
Sheppard’s head suddenly dropped forward alarmingly. “Sheppard?” Hey, are you still with me? C’mon, open your eyes.” When his friend didn’t respond, he shouted, “John! Wake up. You can’t go like this! Wake up.”
“‘m up,” Sheppard mumbled, though he didn’t raise his head.
“I have to tell you something,” Rodney said. “I don’t want to die without telling you... I love you, John.” He couldn’t be sure John heard him, he didn’t respond. The natives were concentrating on arranging Ronon’s bonfire. This was going to happen. He was going to die as a sacrifice to some god he didn’t believe in out in the back of nowhere. Some New Years this turned out to be.
He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the dancers moving around the firepit as the sun set. He opened them again at a familiar popping sound off in the distance beyond the line of shacks and huts. “Sheppard! Hey, wake up. Someone’s coming!” he cried as he saw the flare of automatic weapons fire through the trees.
The natives scattered, voices raised in alarm, their celebration forgotten as they ran off in all directions, some to defend their village. Less than a minute later, Rodney saw Teyla and Sils come out from between two huts. She paused for a moment in the glow from the fire pit, and Rodney saw her roll her eyes before starting forward again, drawing her knife.
“How did you know to come?” Rodney asked as Sils began cutting him loose and Teyla climbed up on the wood pile and sawed at the ropes holding John. Sheppard was out cold.
“I was in the Control Room and heard them mention that you had gone to Alpas. I knew this to be an unfriendly world.”
Rodney shook his head, “No, no, I distinctly remember you saying Alpas was nice.”
“Halpas, is nice, Rodney. This is not Halpas.”
Sils caught him by the shoulders as the ropes came away and waited until Rodney had his footing before letting him go with a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sils,” Rodney said as the Sergeant raised his weapon and ran over to cut Ronon free. “I think he’s got a bad head wound, Teyla. Ronon is hurt too,” Rodney said, clambering up the wood pile and getting a shoulder up under John’s arm as Teyla took his other side.
“There is a puddlejumper through the trees, in a clearing,” Teyla said. A pair of marines had joined Sils in taking care of Ronon as Rodney and Teyla carried John to the safety of the jumper.
~*~
John opened his eyes and grimaced at the bright light and the pain in his head. He smiled at Beckett when the doctor leaned over to peer into his face. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself, how many fingers?”
“Dumbledore.”
“Aye, well, you’re bound to be a wee bit scrambled, you’ve a nasty bump there,” Carson patted his arm.
John grinned. “I was kidding, three fingers.”
“So was I, I had to amputate your head,” Beckett waved Rodney over as he stepped away from the bed. “You’ll be fine, as will Ronon. I’m keeping you both overnight for observation. Happy New Year.” He left John and Rodney alone.
“Close one,” Rodney said, rocking on his heels.
John agreed. “Yeah. Too close.”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve got some stuff I have to do.” Rodney wouldn’t meet his eyes as he turned away from the bed to leave.
“Hey Rodney?” John reached out and caught his hand. “Love you too,” he admitted quietly.
Rodney spun around. “You heard me?”
Smiling, John squeezed his hand. “Yeah. And it was kinda nice, having that be the last thing I ever heard, even though it wasn’t.” He nestled back against the pillows and closed his eyes. There was time enough to figure out all the mushy feelings stuff later. Maybe.
The End
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Prompt: Confession in a Desperate Situation
Rating: Gen
Word Count: 1,170
Warnings: No Standard Warnings Apply
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Rodney tries to say something that needs saying.
Happy Holidays for
theladymore “Oh, c’mon Rodney, it’ll be fun, he says. We’ll have a nice feast at Alpas to celebrate the holidays, he says. A cakewalk of a mission, he says,” Rodney muttered and scowled at Sheppard. “For future reference, this is not my definition of a good time, Sheppard!” Of all the times for Teyla to stay behind, when they needed her here to calm the natives and interpret native no-no they had broken this time. He shifted against the wood behind him, trying to get loose, but he had been expertly bound.
Ronon was crumpled in a heap beside the fire pit. When things had suddenly gone very wrong and turned violent, Ronon had done his best to fight them off Sheppard, but he had been overwhelmed by sheer numbers and conked over the head with a staff. He and Sheppard had been tied and bound to thick stakes. Alarmingly, the natives had begun to stack wood and kindling around their feet. Drummers had come near the fire, chosen comfortable spots to sit and were thumping out a steady rhythmic beat to accompany the frightening preparations.
“Burned at the stake! This was not the way I imagined going out, Sheppard! This is no way to spend New Years!” he shouted.
Blinking stupidly, Sheppard rolled his head in Rodney’s direction. Like Ronon, he’d been knocked around quite a bit and had not been able to continue fighting when he had been swarmed by natives. Rodney suspected he had a concussion. “Sorry, Rodney,” he said, eyeing the steadily rising pile of firewood.
The simple apology as well as the genuine regret in John’s eyes silenced the complaint that was forming on his tongue. “We’re not getting out of this, are we?”
John shook his head and looked over at Ronon, now being tied, still unconscious, to a third stake. “There’s three hours until we miss check in.”
“Yeah, and THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A FRIENDLY PLANET!!!” he screamed at the men arranging chunks of wood around him. They ignored him. “Not even a last meal? You guys suck!” Rodney called out. He tried wriggling, but couldn’t move.
“Sheppard, tell me you have a knife and you’re going to pull a last minute save. Please.”
Sheppard shook his head slowly and looked at him sadly. “No, sorry, Rodney. I can’t move.” Like Rodney, he was wrapped from neck to knee with ropes. There was blood dripping from John’s nose and ear, and Rodney was sure he had a concussion, if not a skull fracture.
“We’re going to die,” Rodney said quietly. When John didn’t answer him, he became certain of it. He began thinking of all the things he hadn’t done, the things he hadn’t said. Things were going so well with Jeannie now, too. He had a family that cared about him, that might even miss him. He was glad Sheppard and Teyla had guilted him into sending a Christmas gift for Madison this year. At least she’d have the inscribed physics book to remember him by in years to come.
Sheppard’s head suddenly dropped forward alarmingly. “Sheppard?” Hey, are you still with me? C’mon, open your eyes.” When his friend didn’t respond, he shouted, “John! Wake up. You can’t go like this! Wake up.”
“‘m up,” Sheppard mumbled, though he didn’t raise his head.
“I have to tell you something,” Rodney said. “I don’t want to die without telling you... I love you, John.” He couldn’t be sure John heard him, he didn’t respond. The natives were concentrating on arranging Ronon’s bonfire. This was going to happen. He was going to die as a sacrifice to some god he didn’t believe in out in the back of nowhere. Some New Years this turned out to be.
He closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the dancers moving around the firepit as the sun set. He opened them again at a familiar popping sound off in the distance beyond the line of shacks and huts. “Sheppard! Hey, wake up. Someone’s coming!” he cried as he saw the flare of automatic weapons fire through the trees.
The natives scattered, voices raised in alarm, their celebration forgotten as they ran off in all directions, some to defend their village. Less than a minute later, Rodney saw Teyla and Sils come out from between two huts. She paused for a moment in the glow from the fire pit, and Rodney saw her roll her eyes before starting forward again, drawing her knife.
“How did you know to come?” Rodney asked as Sils began cutting him loose and Teyla climbed up on the wood pile and sawed at the ropes holding John. Sheppard was out cold.
“I was in the Control Room and heard them mention that you had gone to Alpas. I knew this to be an unfriendly world.”
Rodney shook his head, “No, no, I distinctly remember you saying Alpas was nice.”
“Halpas, is nice, Rodney. This is not Halpas.”
Sils caught him by the shoulders as the ropes came away and waited until Rodney had his footing before letting him go with a pat on the shoulder. “Thanks, Sils,” Rodney said as the Sergeant raised his weapon and ran over to cut Ronon free. “I think he’s got a bad head wound, Teyla. Ronon is hurt too,” Rodney said, clambering up the wood pile and getting a shoulder up under John’s arm as Teyla took his other side.
“There is a puddlejumper through the trees, in a clearing,” Teyla said. A pair of marines had joined Sils in taking care of Ronon as Rodney and Teyla carried John to the safety of the jumper.
~*~
John opened his eyes and grimaced at the bright light and the pain in his head. He smiled at Beckett when the doctor leaned over to peer into his face. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself, how many fingers?”
“Dumbledore.”
“Aye, well, you’re bound to be a wee bit scrambled, you’ve a nasty bump there,” Carson patted his arm.
John grinned. “I was kidding, three fingers.”
“So was I, I had to amputate your head,” Beckett waved Rodney over as he stepped away from the bed. “You’ll be fine, as will Ronon. I’m keeping you both overnight for observation. Happy New Year.” He left John and Rodney alone.
“Close one,” Rodney said, rocking on his heels.
John agreed. “Yeah. Too close.”
“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve got some stuff I have to do.” Rodney wouldn’t meet his eyes as he turned away from the bed to leave.
“Hey Rodney?” John reached out and caught his hand. “Love you too,” he admitted quietly.
Rodney spun around. “You heard me?”
Smiling, John squeezed his hand. “Yeah. And it was kinda nice, having that be the last thing I ever heard, even though it wasn’t.” He nestled back against the pillows and closed his eyes. There was time enough to figure out all the mushy feelings stuff later. Maybe.
The End