Fly Away by badwolf36 (NC-17)
Mar. 28th, 2015 12:14 pm![[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}
stargateficrecShow: SGA
Rec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Characters: Rodney McKay John Sheppard
Pairings: Sheppard/McKay
Categories: Angst Drama First Time Established Relationship Slash
Warnings: Graphic torture (mostly off-screen)
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badwolf36
Author's Website:
Link: Fly Away
Why This Must Be Read:
This is a great story for fans of post-Atlantis retirement bliss and/or Rodney whump - with a twist.
“Just tell us where he is, Doctor McKay. Just tell us where Colonel John Sheppard is and…” And here the man ground the tip of his knife deeper into the old scar tissue along Rodney’s arm. He ground harder with each subsequent word, “all …this … pain … will … end.”
“Noooo!” Rodney sat bolt upright in bed, frantically patting himself down. Nightmares weren’t uncommon after being a resident of the Pegasus Galaxy, but memories of PXY-232 had been haunting him with visceral ferocity lately.
He ran his fingers over his arms, where the scar from Kolya had been expanded by two inches. It still twinged on rainy days and he spent long hours rubbing it when it rained. He doesn’t feel quite the shame he used to about the scar or the attention he gives it, because John does the same thing with the scar on his neck from the Iratus bug feeding.
Rodney glanced around the bedroom as he rubbed the sweat from his forehead. The shelves were full of knickknacks that had been “acquired” from Atlantis over the years and carefully slipped out of Cheyenne Mountain. He was sure he’d seen O’Neill eyeing a few of them with bemusement as he’d waved him out of the mountain.
His nightstand was full of heavily scribbled on physics journals and a set of reading glasses that he would never admit to needing.
Flopping back against the pillows, Rodney rolled onto his side, coming face-to-face with the portrait of him and John on the other nightstand, along with a trendier set of readers and a thick tome that Rodney knew was hollow and contained a Calvin and Hobbes collection.
He smiled. Retirement still felt odd, but at least John was right there with him.
Shaking off the sweaty fear-soaked sheets, Rodney stumbled downstairs in his radioactive symbol boxers to where he could smell breakfast cooking.
“Morning,” John said without looking up. His hair was artfully tousled and the back of his T-shirt was damp from his morning run. It was something that hadn’t changed since their retirement and something that continued to baffle Rodney, but he sure didn’t mind the effect it had on John. He traced a finger down John’s spine and watched him shiver before he hooked his chin over John’s shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Mmm, eggs.”
“Omelets,” John corrected, before turning to look at Rodney, obviously noticing the pinched look on his face. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” This was something else that hadn’t changed since retirement. They still had nightmares and they still didn’t talk about them.
Except for when one of them drastically broke the rules. “Want to talk about it?” John asked as he whisked some melting cheese into the eggs.
“Are you sick?” Rodney asked, patting John’s forehead. “You never willingly talk about emotions. Also, no.”
“Okay,” John said, and that was the end of it. Rodney poured out a couple of glasses of apple juice and grabbed a couple of plates, into which John doled out their omelets after adding a few more ingredients.
They ate in silence, but it was a comfortable one that allowed Rodney to finally let go of the remnants of his most recent nightmare. He shuddered one last time, thinking of how the Takasian rebel leader had pulled the knife from his arm, and then smiled as he licked the blade clean.
John gave him an odd look, but didn’t question him. Instead, he scraped up the last bit of his breakfast into his mouth, chewed and swallowed before saying, “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
Rec Category: Sheppard/McKay
Characters: Rodney McKay John Sheppard
Pairings: Sheppard/McKay
Categories: Angst Drama First Time Established Relationship Slash
Warnings: Graphic torture (mostly off-screen)
Author on LJ:
badwolf36Author's Website:
Link: Fly Away
Why This Must Be Read:
This is a great story for fans of post-Atlantis retirement bliss and/or Rodney whump - with a twist.
“Just tell us where he is, Doctor McKay. Just tell us where Colonel John Sheppard is and…” And here the man ground the tip of his knife deeper into the old scar tissue along Rodney’s arm. He ground harder with each subsequent word, “all …this … pain … will … end.”
“Noooo!” Rodney sat bolt upright in bed, frantically patting himself down. Nightmares weren’t uncommon after being a resident of the Pegasus Galaxy, but memories of PXY-232 had been haunting him with visceral ferocity lately.
He ran his fingers over his arms, where the scar from Kolya had been expanded by two inches. It still twinged on rainy days and he spent long hours rubbing it when it rained. He doesn’t feel quite the shame he used to about the scar or the attention he gives it, because John does the same thing with the scar on his neck from the Iratus bug feeding.
Rodney glanced around the bedroom as he rubbed the sweat from his forehead. The shelves were full of knickknacks that had been “acquired” from Atlantis over the years and carefully slipped out of Cheyenne Mountain. He was sure he’d seen O’Neill eyeing a few of them with bemusement as he’d waved him out of the mountain.
His nightstand was full of heavily scribbled on physics journals and a set of reading glasses that he would never admit to needing.
Flopping back against the pillows, Rodney rolled onto his side, coming face-to-face with the portrait of him and John on the other nightstand, along with a trendier set of readers and a thick tome that Rodney knew was hollow and contained a Calvin and Hobbes collection.
He smiled. Retirement still felt odd, but at least John was right there with him.
Shaking off the sweaty fear-soaked sheets, Rodney stumbled downstairs in his radioactive symbol boxers to where he could smell breakfast cooking.
“Morning,” John said without looking up. His hair was artfully tousled and the back of his T-shirt was damp from his morning run. It was something that hadn’t changed since their retirement and something that continued to baffle Rodney, but he sure didn’t mind the effect it had on John. He traced a finger down John’s spine and watched him shiver before he hooked his chin over John’s shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Mmm, eggs.”
“Omelets,” John corrected, before turning to look at Rodney, obviously noticing the pinched look on his face. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” This was something else that hadn’t changed since retirement. They still had nightmares and they still didn’t talk about them.
Except for when one of them drastically broke the rules. “Want to talk about it?” John asked as he whisked some melting cheese into the eggs.
“Are you sick?” Rodney asked, patting John’s forehead. “You never willingly talk about emotions. Also, no.”
“Okay,” John said, and that was the end of it. Rodney poured out a couple of glasses of apple juice and grabbed a couple of plates, into which John doled out their omelets after adding a few more ingredients.
They ate in silence, but it was a comfortable one that allowed Rodney to finally let go of the remnants of his most recent nightmare. He shuddered one last time, thinking of how the Takasian rebel leader had pulled the knife from his arm, and then smiled as he licked the blade clean.
John gave him an odd look, but didn’t question him. Instead, he scraped up the last bit of his breakfast into his mouth, chewed and swallowed before saying, “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
