What Comes Around Series by busaikko (PG)
Jun. 10th, 2009 08:07 pmRec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warning: Slash, permanent disability
Author on LJ:
busaikko
Author's Website: http://busaikko.slashcity.org/
Link:
What Comes Around
Hollows for the Unmended
That's What I Think (When I Think About You)
Why This Must Be Read:
The series begins with a set of reports and correspondence regarding the treatment of culling survivors that progresses to the miraculous return of John Sheppard to a mourning Atlantis. Unfortunately, there are no magic wands or pieces of Ancient medical equipment that can restore John completely. How he and Rodney deal with a permanent disability is wonderfully in character for both men and, by the end of the third story, there's a definite feeling of hope for both of them and their future together.
Excerpt:
"Which do you want, the apple raisin or the mocha?" Rodney holds out the snack bars, one in each hand. Sheppard looks up from his work, staring at Rodney, his expression hard and flat. "If it's all the same to you -- " Rodney goes on, and shrugs.
"Apple," Sheppard says. Well, not exactly: it takes him four tries with lots of stuttering, and he tries to get Rodney to play word-association with snake?, except Rodney doesn't do that. He makes Sheppard sweat and get it right. The sooner Sheppard is fixed the sooner life will go back to normal.
He knows that Sheppard wants that, too. It's why he withholds the bar and glares, as if Sheppard's trying to get away with something. Which he is.
Sheppard rolls his eyes. "Please. Apple."
One of Carson's nurses turned out to be a paediatric speech-language pathologist who spends half her time with the linguists, studying language acquisition in children raised near Stargates. She has a prestigious grant from the Taiwanese government; she's not thrilled about putting her research on the back burner for one patient. As soon as John had a fairly stable vocabulary, she pushed him to produce two-word sentences. Rodney supposes that John's passed the test; he also suspects that when John's expected to produce three-word sentences, he'll be saying pretty please a lot.
He drops the bar into Sheppard's hand, and then reaches out as if to snatch it back. Sheppard's hand snaps shut around it.
"You're not just saying that?" Rodney asks, suspicious. "Because you always ask for apple. I don't have to have the mocha, you know." He tries to pin Sheppard with a glare, but Sheppard's eyes slide away. "Can you even say mocha? Oh!" Sheppard's gaze drifts up again. "Is there citrus in that?"
Sheppard turns the bar over in his hand, looking for the ingredients, and Rodney practically has to bite his tongue to keep the never mind from popping out. They'd had a funeral for Sheppard, and Rodney had lost his own words when Elizabeth asked him to give the eulogy. He'd literally frozen, tongue-tied, heartsick, red-eyed, and lost. And then Sheppard came back. A little bit of brain damage is nothing compared to dead, and if it means Rodney has to give Sheppard extra time to do stupid things like reading pointless fine print, well. Being alive means there is time.
...
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Warning: Slash, permanent disability
Author on LJ:
Author's Website: http://busaikko.slashcity.org/
Link:
What Comes Around
Hollows for the Unmended
That's What I Think (When I Think About You)
Why This Must Be Read:
The series begins with a set of reports and correspondence regarding the treatment of culling survivors that progresses to the miraculous return of John Sheppard to a mourning Atlantis. Unfortunately, there are no magic wands or pieces of Ancient medical equipment that can restore John completely. How he and Rodney deal with a permanent disability is wonderfully in character for both men and, by the end of the third story, there's a definite feeling of hope for both of them and their future together.
Excerpt:
"Which do you want, the apple raisin or the mocha?" Rodney holds out the snack bars, one in each hand. Sheppard looks up from his work, staring at Rodney, his expression hard and flat. "If it's all the same to you -- " Rodney goes on, and shrugs.
"Apple," Sheppard says. Well, not exactly: it takes him four tries with lots of stuttering, and he tries to get Rodney to play word-association with snake?, except Rodney doesn't do that. He makes Sheppard sweat and get it right. The sooner Sheppard is fixed the sooner life will go back to normal.
He knows that Sheppard wants that, too. It's why he withholds the bar and glares, as if Sheppard's trying to get away with something. Which he is.
Sheppard rolls his eyes. "Please. Apple."
One of Carson's nurses turned out to be a paediatric speech-language pathologist who spends half her time with the linguists, studying language acquisition in children raised near Stargates. She has a prestigious grant from the Taiwanese government; she's not thrilled about putting her research on the back burner for one patient. As soon as John had a fairly stable vocabulary, she pushed him to produce two-word sentences. Rodney supposes that John's passed the test; he also suspects that when John's expected to produce three-word sentences, he'll be saying pretty please a lot.
He drops the bar into Sheppard's hand, and then reaches out as if to snatch it back. Sheppard's hand snaps shut around it.
"You're not just saying that?" Rodney asks, suspicious. "Because you always ask for apple. I don't have to have the mocha, you know." He tries to pin Sheppard with a glare, but Sheppard's eyes slide away. "Can you even say mocha? Oh!" Sheppard's gaze drifts up again. "Is there citrus in that?"
Sheppard turns the bar over in his hand, looking for the ingredients, and Rodney practically has to bite his tongue to keep the never mind from popping out. They'd had a funeral for Sheppard, and Rodney had lost his own words when Elizabeth asked him to give the eulogy. He'd literally frozen, tongue-tied, heartsick, red-eyed, and lost. And then Sheppard came back. A little bit of brain damage is nothing compared to dead, and if it means Rodney has to give Sheppard extra time to do stupid things like reading pointless fine print, well. Being alive means there is time.
...