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Ignoring the Hunger
Title: Ignoring the Hunger
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis – AU
Series: part of the Fernal ‘verse
Characters: John Sheppard, Dave Sheppard
Rating: PG
Word Count: 590
Summary: John doesn’t want to be haima
Content Notes: Forced to feed, no other standard notes apply
Prompt: Hunger/starvation
July, 1944
John wasn’t doing it. No matter what Patrick and the others said, he steadfastly refused to nip, nibble, bite or nibble on another person for his sustenance. He had been forced that first time, he hadn’t been aware of what Patrick was doing to him, if he had, he might have chosen death to this kind of life. He slumped on the settee and stared out the window and listened to the radio as the Yankees played the Red Sox.
“You need to feed,” Dave said, extending a wrist to him when John looked at him.
“No,” he said, turning away.
Flopping beside him, Dave slapped a hand on his knee. “Look, buckaroo, you’re making yourself sick. An adult haima cannot go this long without taking blood.”
“Don’t call me buckaroo. I’m not doing it.”
“Your cheeks are sunken, your color is wrong, even your hair is limp, John. You’re starving. And for what? To hold onto the illusion of a life that’s gone. You’ll die if you don’t eat.”
He had been eating, regular food. But his body was slowing down, he could feel the effects of his refusal to ingest blood, but he didn’t want this life, he didn’t want to be haima. His hands suddenly cramped and he clenched his fists.
“Father isn’t going to let this go on. He’ll force you,” Dave said in an undertone. “Then he’ll be angry with you.”
“He isn’t my father, no more than you’re my brother. I have a family, and this isn’t it.”
Dave shook his head and clucked his tongue. “They think you’re dead, John, we’re all you have now.”
“Better I die for real then.” He looked out the window, trying to ignore the sound of the beating of Dave’s heart as he sat beside him, the scent of his soap, the smell of the blood on his wrist where he had bitten himself before offering to John. Taking what Dave offered would be the final admission that his life was over. It would put him beyond the pale; thrust him completely into the fernal world.
“If Father is angry, he’ll take it out on the rest of us. We were supposed to look after you until he came back from his business trip. I’d really rather not try to explain why his newest progeny dried up and died in his absence.”
He didn’t see Dave move, he moved so quickly. One moment, John was seated on the sofa, and the next, he was on the floor, with Dave straddling him. He struggled, but he was as weak, literally starving of the nutrients his haima physiology needed. Dave had been born haima, he was stronger than John could ever hope to be.
“I don’t want this,” he pleaded, turning his head when Dave tried to press his wrist to John’s lips.
“I can’t let you die, little brother, not when I can do something to prevent it. You are one of us now. Stop dwelling in the past and mourning what you lost. Think of what you’ve gained instead. You should have died in that crash. You’ve been granted centuries; don’t waste the time you’ve been given. Think of the things you could do with all that time.”
His body cramped again, and the smell of Dave’s blood so close to his face ignited his appetite. He felt the tears sliding down his cheeks as he grasped Dave’s wrist and closed his lips over the puncture holes, and fed.
The End
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis – AU
Series: part of the Fernal ‘verse
Characters: John Sheppard, Dave Sheppard
Rating: PG
Word Count: 590
Summary: John doesn’t want to be haima
Content Notes: Forced to feed, no other standard notes apply
Prompt: Hunger/starvation
July, 1944
John wasn’t doing it. No matter what Patrick and the others said, he steadfastly refused to nip, nibble, bite or nibble on another person for his sustenance. He had been forced that first time, he hadn’t been aware of what Patrick was doing to him, if he had, he might have chosen death to this kind of life. He slumped on the settee and stared out the window and listened to the radio as the Yankees played the Red Sox.
“You need to feed,” Dave said, extending a wrist to him when John looked at him.
“No,” he said, turning away.
Flopping beside him, Dave slapped a hand on his knee. “Look, buckaroo, you’re making yourself sick. An adult haima cannot go this long without taking blood.”
“Don’t call me buckaroo. I’m not doing it.”
“Your cheeks are sunken, your color is wrong, even your hair is limp, John. You’re starving. And for what? To hold onto the illusion of a life that’s gone. You’ll die if you don’t eat.”
He had been eating, regular food. But his body was slowing down, he could feel the effects of his refusal to ingest blood, but he didn’t want this life, he didn’t want to be haima. His hands suddenly cramped and he clenched his fists.
“Father isn’t going to let this go on. He’ll force you,” Dave said in an undertone. “Then he’ll be angry with you.”
“He isn’t my father, no more than you’re my brother. I have a family, and this isn’t it.”
Dave shook his head and clucked his tongue. “They think you’re dead, John, we’re all you have now.”
“Better I die for real then.” He looked out the window, trying to ignore the sound of the beating of Dave’s heart as he sat beside him, the scent of his soap, the smell of the blood on his wrist where he had bitten himself before offering to John. Taking what Dave offered would be the final admission that his life was over. It would put him beyond the pale; thrust him completely into the fernal world.
“If Father is angry, he’ll take it out on the rest of us. We were supposed to look after you until he came back from his business trip. I’d really rather not try to explain why his newest progeny dried up and died in his absence.”
He didn’t see Dave move, he moved so quickly. One moment, John was seated on the sofa, and the next, he was on the floor, with Dave straddling him. He struggled, but he was as weak, literally starving of the nutrients his haima physiology needed. Dave had been born haima, he was stronger than John could ever hope to be.
“I don’t want this,” he pleaded, turning his head when Dave tried to press his wrist to John’s lips.
“I can’t let you die, little brother, not when I can do something to prevent it. You are one of us now. Stop dwelling in the past and mourning what you lost. Think of what you’ve gained instead. You should have died in that crash. You’ve been granted centuries; don’t waste the time you’ve been given. Think of the things you could do with all that time.”
His body cramped again, and the smell of Dave’s blood so close to his face ignited his appetite. He felt the tears sliding down his cheeks as he grasped Dave’s wrist and closed his lips over the puncture holes, and fed.
The End
no subject
(Anonymous) 2013-01-04 03:58 am (UTC)(link)no subject
Thanks!
There's currently 6 stories in the 'verse.
http://archiveofourown.org/series/19261
Rodney's story hasn't come out yet. (He's a reborn soul)
All the terms for the people of Allos come from Greek root words. Haima is from the word for blood. :)