The Wrong Side of the Tracks, by Gaia. (R)

[thady.livejournal.com]

Rec Category: AU
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard, Becket/Emmagan
Category: AU, Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, horror, slave-fic, dark!fic
Warning: slave-fic
Author on LJ: gaiaanarchy
Author's Website: none, as far as I know.
Link: The Wrong Side of the Tracks

Summary: John scooted closer, resting his head on Rodney's shoulder. There was something very right about this. But then again, maybe it was just the moons. Freedom, too, was unfamiliar. Post-apocalyptic version of 'Lady and the Tramp.'


Why This Must Be Read:

Yes, this is another rec for a story by Gaia. It is deserved. This story made me shiver, it's creepy and scary. The ending left me breath- and speechless. The characterization is very fitting and the world she builds seems very real. I don't want to give away too much of the plot and its twists and turns, for most of the 'fun' is figuring out what is going on.

He didn’t remember being born or suckling at his mother’s breast (if he even had one). He didn’t remember his first step or how he knew half of the things he knew, but he did remember the day that they’d taken him home.

They had kept him in a box – dank and dark and terrifying in a way that made him whimper with fear. But then someone opened the lid, looking down with light framing her face, her long red hair tied up into a knot of shiny ringlets. He squinted his eyes shut, not wanting to see.

She lifted him up, stroked her hands down his arms and over his face and through his hair. “A pathetic gesture,” she announced. “A runt, I’m sure.”

“But, Princess,” a second voice crooned. “His eyes.”

He felt a thick claw at his neck, skimming up his cheek. “Open,” she commanded. And he could not but obey, no matter how scared he was. “Yes.” Her smile was wide and her eyes shone with pleasure - he could feel it somehow, curling through his thoughts, soft and sweet. “Such a lovely shade of blue.” She slid her hand through his hair and he leaned into it. It had been cold, shivering naked in his box.

“As blue as the clearest salrine crystal, your favorite.”

She huffed and turned away. But she was happy; he could feel it.

The other creature could too, apparently, for it, too, smiled. “So you will accept him? As a gift of devotion?”

She scratched lightly behind his ears. “Yes. I will accept him . . . Mate.”