Desolation by ForCryinOutLoud [Reviews - 13]
- Text Size +
Category: Slash Pairings > McKay/Sheppard
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Angst, AU - Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship
Warnings: None
Series: None
Word count: 741; Completed: Yes
Summary: Time is no longer a constant to him - he isn't sure how much of it has passed since he was here... before.
____
The walls are a muted color, covered in hurried, messy, scrawling equations when he steps into the room. He's shocked by the bareness—a small bed in the corner, a chair under the window, facing the ocean. The view is obstructed by bars.
Time is no longer a constant to him—he isn't sure how much of it has passed since he was here...before. He aches down deep in his belly for the one place that had felt like home, for the one person that made it home.
There's movement behind the bed and he moves closer, peering down at a huddled form, rocking back and forth; marker flying with a desperate speed as the empty spaces on the wall are quickly covered in black numbers; numbers that don't make sense to him anymore.
Hair grown long and wild, falling in a tangle of curls; face covered in weeks, months worth of beard but even these aren't enough to hide the familiar face beneath. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest.
He moves quietly, not even disturbing the air around them as he lowers himself to the floor beside the man he'd loved what felt like a lifetime ago one moment and a blink of an eye the next. Leaning against the wall, feeling the familiar and welcoming hum of his city, he wraps his arms around drawn up knees. "Hi Rodney." John's voice is barely a whisper, hoarse from the lump that is trying to strangle him.
But Rodney only looks up, eyes darting over his face with no recognition before returning to the wall, his hand having never stopped moving. John swallows thickly, reaching out to let one curl slip silkily through his fingers before letting his hand fall away again. He rests his forehead on his knees, not able to look at Rodney anymore—not this shell of the man he loved...loves. Not this person robbed of the fiery brilliance and energy that was Rodney McKay.
The door opens with a faint hiss and John raises his head, watches as Carson—looking far older than the last time John had seen him—walks in, a sad smile on his face. "Hello Rodney." He sits carefully on Rodney's bed, watching as the wall turns black from overlapping equations. "It's time for bed, lad."
John watches Carson pull a needle from his lab-coat pocket, watches him raise the sleeve on Rodney's white hospital scrubs. He rubs an alcohol wipe across a patch of skin on Rodney's arm, the one not in the middle of marring the wall. Carefully inserting the syringe, Carson retakes his spot on the bed, capping the needle and sliding it back into his pocket. Burying his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, he sits in silence.
It only takes about fifteen minutes for the sedative to work and Carson is right there when the marker falls from Rodney's hand. He hefts Rodney to his feet and John can see how much weight Rodney has lost and knows it's not a difficult task. When Carson pulls the covers over Rodney, running a hand through his too long hair John steps closer. He watches as Rodney's eyes, rolling in a drugged haze pass over Carson to land on him and he sees Rodney smile. And when Rodney whispers "John" he kneels beside the bed, forehead pressed to the mattress beside Rodney's shoulder as he feels his whole world shattering around him.
Carson pats Rodney's hand, murmuring quietly for Rodney to sleep and then he's slipping out of the room. The pale Atlantean moonlight streaking across Rodney's sanctuary, painting him in a ghastly white light that makes John's stomach turn. Rodney's eyes are almost closed now but he's still staring at John with a sadness that makes John want to curl himself around Rodney and never let go. "I miss you."
Pressing his lips to Rodney's, John mouths the words back, no longer able to speak as a single tear trails down his cheek, glistening on Rodney's skin when it falls. When the sedative has finally pulled Rodney under, John stands and stares down at his lover. "I love you."
The room glows as John transforms into tendriled light, slipping out through the window and into the Atlantean sky.
- Text Size +
Category: Slash Pairings > McKay/Sheppard
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Angst, AU - Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship
Warnings: None
Series: None
Word count: 741; Completed: Yes
Summary: Time is no longer a constant to him - he isn't sure how much of it has passed since he was here... before.
____
The walls are a muted color, covered in hurried, messy, scrawling equations when he steps into the room. He's shocked by the bareness—a small bed in the corner, a chair under the window, facing the ocean. The view is obstructed by bars.
Time is no longer a constant to him—he isn't sure how much of it has passed since he was here...before. He aches down deep in his belly for the one place that had felt like home, for the one person that made it home.
There's movement behind the bed and he moves closer, peering down at a huddled form, rocking back and forth; marker flying with a desperate speed as the empty spaces on the wall are quickly covered in black numbers; numbers that don't make sense to him anymore.
Hair grown long and wild, falling in a tangle of curls; face covered in weeks, months worth of beard but even these aren't enough to hide the familiar face beneath. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest.
He moves quietly, not even disturbing the air around them as he lowers himself to the floor beside the man he'd loved what felt like a lifetime ago one moment and a blink of an eye the next. Leaning against the wall, feeling the familiar and welcoming hum of his city, he wraps his arms around drawn up knees. "Hi Rodney." John's voice is barely a whisper, hoarse from the lump that is trying to strangle him.
But Rodney only looks up, eyes darting over his face with no recognition before returning to the wall, his hand having never stopped moving. John swallows thickly, reaching out to let one curl slip silkily through his fingers before letting his hand fall away again. He rests his forehead on his knees, not able to look at Rodney anymore—not this shell of the man he loved...loves. Not this person robbed of the fiery brilliance and energy that was Rodney McKay.
The door opens with a faint hiss and John raises his head, watches as Carson—looking far older than the last time John had seen him—walks in, a sad smile on his face. "Hello Rodney." He sits carefully on Rodney's bed, watching as the wall turns black from overlapping equations. "It's time for bed, lad."
John watches Carson pull a needle from his lab-coat pocket, watches him raise the sleeve on Rodney's white hospital scrubs. He rubs an alcohol wipe across a patch of skin on Rodney's arm, the one not in the middle of marring the wall. Carefully inserting the syringe, Carson retakes his spot on the bed, capping the needle and sliding it back into his pocket. Burying his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, he sits in silence.
It only takes about fifteen minutes for the sedative to work and Carson is right there when the marker falls from Rodney's hand. He hefts Rodney to his feet and John can see how much weight Rodney has lost and knows it's not a difficult task. When Carson pulls the covers over Rodney, running a hand through his too long hair John steps closer. He watches as Rodney's eyes, rolling in a drugged haze pass over Carson to land on him and he sees Rodney smile. And when Rodney whispers "John" he kneels beside the bed, forehead pressed to the mattress beside Rodney's shoulder as he feels his whole world shattering around him.
Carson pats Rodney's hand, murmuring quietly for Rodney to sleep and then he's slipping out of the room. The pale Atlantean moonlight streaking across Rodney's sanctuary, painting him in a ghastly white light that makes John's stomach turn. Rodney's eyes are almost closed now but he's still staring at John with a sadness that makes John want to curl himself around Rodney and never let go. "I miss you."
Pressing his lips to Rodney's, John mouths the words back, no longer able to speak as a single tear trails down his cheek, glistening on Rodney's skin when it falls. When the sedative has finally pulled Rodney under, John stands and stares down at his lover. "I love you."
The room glows as John transforms into tendriled light, slipping out through the window and into the Atlantean sky.