![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danceswithgary posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecRec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Category: Angst, Established Relationship, Romance
Warning: Slash
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trinityofone
Author's Website: tales of an unreal city
Links:
The Man Who Rose From Earth
Flux
The Rise and Fall
Why This Must Be Read:
Transformation fics seem to be a natural fit for a show dealing with unfamiliar advanced technologies left behind by a race who'd been involved in genetic manipulation, among other things. These stories are written sparely, not focusing on the how or why but on the aftereffects. We catch glimpses of what it means to acquire a set of wings; not only for the man who'd always loved to fly, but for those left behind. There's beauty and yearning in the words, balanced by Rodney's prickly insistence on reality, and the ending always makes me wish I could see it happen.
Excerpt:
His feet touch down on the balcony and Rodney is waiting for him. “Hey,” he says, though it takes him a moment to find the word. The wind has swept his voice away.
Rodney doesn’t say “hey” back. He says—mouth set, a firm, thin line, like he’s never smiled into the wind at all; he says, “Sometimes I think you’ll fly away and we’ll never see you again. You’ll disappear into the sky. Or the sea.”
John just shakes his head. He isn’t Icarus, and his wings aren’t made of wax.
Rodney says, “We’re going offworld tomorrow. You can try to come again. Elizabeth will agree.”
A second shake of John’s head. That was another, not-so-petty annoyance. Offworld, too many people took one look at him and tried to either worship him as an angel or destroy him as a demon. In Pegasus, their common humanity is one of the only things they have to trade upon; John no longer quite fits the bill.
John remembers Caldwell’s face when he told him that the Daedalus would no longer be able to ferry him back home, to Earth. For a moment, he’d done his best to look saddened. Then he hadn’t even bothered anymore.
Rodney is watching him, blue eyes sweeping over his face, seemingly uninterested in the broad stretch of feathers and bone extending from his back. John tilts his head, curious.
“Sheppard,” Rodney says. He sounds upset. John looks at Rodney’s feet, stuck firmly on the ground, and he can understand why. “John...”
John swallows, tastes his tongue in his mouth. “You could come with me,” he says. Because there are no words to describe what it’s like, but he still thinks, sometimes, that he’d like someone else to know. To share it.
Bowed head, Rodney stares down at his shoes. “You know I can’t.”
John doesn’t know any such thing. He knows the sky and the breeze and his feet lifting off the ground. He knows what it’s like to get what you wanted, to not have to be afraid anymore.
It starts to rain then, soft warm spring drops, falling. Instinctively, John lifts up his wings, drawing Rodney close against his bare chest, sheltering them both.
“Come back,” Rodney whispers. “Stay.”
You know I can’t, he thinks, and for a moment there is a pang of sadness in the endless current of joy he’s been riding, twisting and turning in the breeze.
But the drops of water beat gently down, and he feels it in every feather: smiling as, like Rodney’s words and the lost look in his eyes, they slide harmlessly off his back.
...
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Category: Angst, Established Relationship, Romance
Warning: Slash
Author on LJ:
trinityofoneAuthor's Website: tales of an unreal city
Links:
The Man Who Rose From Earth
Flux
The Rise and Fall
Why This Must Be Read:
Transformation fics seem to be a natural fit for a show dealing with unfamiliar advanced technologies left behind by a race who'd been involved in genetic manipulation, among other things. These stories are written sparely, not focusing on the how or why but on the aftereffects. We catch glimpses of what it means to acquire a set of wings; not only for the man who'd always loved to fly, but for those left behind. There's beauty and yearning in the words, balanced by Rodney's prickly insistence on reality, and the ending always makes me wish I could see it happen.
Excerpt:
His feet touch down on the balcony and Rodney is waiting for him. “Hey,” he says, though it takes him a moment to find the word. The wind has swept his voice away.
Rodney doesn’t say “hey” back. He says—mouth set, a firm, thin line, like he’s never smiled into the wind at all; he says, “Sometimes I think you’ll fly away and we’ll never see you again. You’ll disappear into the sky. Or the sea.”
John just shakes his head. He isn’t Icarus, and his wings aren’t made of wax.
Rodney says, “We’re going offworld tomorrow. You can try to come again. Elizabeth will agree.”
A second shake of John’s head. That was another, not-so-petty annoyance. Offworld, too many people took one look at him and tried to either worship him as an angel or destroy him as a demon. In Pegasus, their common humanity is one of the only things they have to trade upon; John no longer quite fits the bill.
John remembers Caldwell’s face when he told him that the Daedalus would no longer be able to ferry him back home, to Earth. For a moment, he’d done his best to look saddened. Then he hadn’t even bothered anymore.
Rodney is watching him, blue eyes sweeping over his face, seemingly uninterested in the broad stretch of feathers and bone extending from his back. John tilts his head, curious.
“Sheppard,” Rodney says. He sounds upset. John looks at Rodney’s feet, stuck firmly on the ground, and he can understand why. “John...”
John swallows, tastes his tongue in his mouth. “You could come with me,” he says. Because there are no words to describe what it’s like, but he still thinks, sometimes, that he’d like someone else to know. To share it.
Bowed head, Rodney stares down at his shoes. “You know I can’t.”
John doesn’t know any such thing. He knows the sky and the breeze and his feet lifting off the ground. He knows what it’s like to get what you wanted, to not have to be afraid anymore.
It starts to rain then, soft warm spring drops, falling. Instinctively, John lifts up his wings, drawing Rodney close against his bare chest, sheltering them both.
“Come back,” Rodney whispers. “Stay.”
You know I can’t, he thinks, and for a moment there is a pang of sadness in the endless current of joy he’s been riding, twisting and turning in the breeze.
But the drops of water beat gently down, and he feels it in every feather: smiling as, like Rodney’s words and the lost look in his eyes, they slide harmlessly off his back.
...
