stargateficrec | Keepsakes by Taste_is

Show: Stargate Atlantis

Rec Category: Episode Related
Pairing: McShep
Characters: John, Rodney, Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon, Carson, etc.
Categories: Angst, h/c, first kiss
Warnings: none
Author on LJ:

taste_is_sweet
Link: Keepsakes

Why this must be read: First of all, I have great nostalgia for this fic. I first read it and fell in love with it on Wraithbait. When the author put it up on AO3 I left a gushy, fangirl comment, which started a dialogue that has led to a really wonderful friendship. The power of fic!

This is a canon divergent tag to the season two ep Conversion, wherein John is adversely affected by the Iratus virus. In this story, Carson’s cure takes far longer to work and John is completely blue-bugified. The beauty is in Rodney’s reaction. He builds a safe place for John to be his bug self, and spends as much time there as possible, trying to learn how to best take care of him. There’s a sweet ending, after some sweet h/c, and I will rec this fic till the day I die.

"It's not that I have to be in my lab all the time, you realize, much as I'm sure the incompetent clowns who laughingly call themselves 'scientists' wish that I were constantly available to save them from themselves. Not that they'd ever dare admit it," Rodney said, then finished chewing and swallowed the large forkful of pancakes with a loud gulp. "These are delicious, by the way. The cook--what's her name? Gesundheit? Gonzales? Goodwin?" He realized he was waiting for John to supply the surname and hastily took another big bite. "Well, I'm sure you'd know her, anyway. She's really outdone herself. I just hope she didn't add orange zest or something, to get them tasting like this. It'd be a terrible blow to science to find me dead next to you with my throat like an inner tube and my grey, swollen tongue sticking out." Rodney grimaced. "Now that's a great image." He looked at his food, a little concerned he might be right, then shrugged and cut himself another piece. "I'm sure I would've died by now."

John was stretched out on his stomach over the largest rock at the front of his habitat, so near to the bars that he could have touched them if the force shield were off. He was directly under the giant sunlamp, and Rodney felt warm and sleepy just looking at him. The only part of John that had moved in the last ten minutes was his eyes, which flicked unerringly from Rodney's plate to his mouth, following his hands. It was a little unnerving, if Rodney were being honest. He kept checking for syrup on his chin.

And while he was being honest, Rodney could admit he wasn't sure why he'd decided to eat breakfast down here this morning, instead of in the mess with Teyla and Ronon, or in his lab where all the idiots were at least within shouting distance. It wasn't like he hadn't visited John once a day since he was moved here. It was just that...

It was just that Rodney didn't know what it was. Except, okay, maybe he did.

"Right. The lab. Well, like I said, it's not that I have to be there. So I decided that for once I'd forgo the latest addition to the doubtless gaping ulcer in my stomach and eat breakfast here." He shrugged, feeling ridiculous that he couldn't meet John's eyes when he knew that John couldn't understand anything he said. "I just...got used to it, seeing your ridiculous floppy hair across the table every morning. And hearing your awful donkey laugh when you found something unaccountably hilarious. Not that you laugh anymore. Still have the hair, though. Which is weird, considering you're scaly everywhere else."

Rodney took a very large gulp of his coffee. John watched him drink it.

John didn't do much of anything anymore, as far as anyone could tell. The surveillance videos, when anyone bothered to watch them, pretty much only ever showed him lying on the rocks or hiding in his cave. He swam sometimes: a strange hybrid of a proper crawl stroke and something a beetle might use to keep from drowning. But John never made any noise, and he never laughed or smiled. Not that Rodney was still hoping he might, in some stupid, wistful part of him. Really. Just like he knew it meant nothing that John had ambled over from wherever he'd been when Rodney sat down. He'd probably just wanted the sunlamp.

John was very catlike in that regard, wanting all the warm spots. Rodney could appreciate that.