?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Defract: Clear Blue Skies

Wanting to do a 5x5; 5 of the 'five times' stories, each for a different fandom. Thus far I have the fandoms (Sherlock, SGA, Merlin, Torchwood  and Star Trek, most likely 2009). What I am lacking is this: prompts. That's supposed to be the easy part. Writing exercises: I need to do more. Clearly, since I never update this. FEEL FREE TO PESTER. Please god help yourself, in fact. Anyway.

Title: Defract: Clear Blue Skies
Rating: General
Summary: John Sheppard is obsessed with speed; it's only fair that he should have the shortest Ascension in all of history.
Characters: John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Pairings: McShep...ish Preslash?
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: Shouldn't watch Tao of Rodney anymore.
Disclaimer: Eh.

 

He knows the oxygen in the room is dangerously low, but he can hear the desperate sound of Rodney McKay, Smartest Man in Two Galaxies, working at what is doubtlessly a sensational speed, trying to save him. He feels light-headed with lack of air, bubbly with the knowledge that he’s got the best support a guy could ask for, out here where the Wraith are trying to eat him- and all his planet, too. 

‘Clear blue skies,’ he thinks with a smile, breath faint against his lip. He thinks about the glorious expanse, stretching above him, mirrored in the soft waves below, thinks about swimming in the clouds. Thinks about being the clouds, and the sky, and he is, oh, now he is.

It’s all in his head, clear and sublime in its ultimate simplicity. Why he could fly in the clear blue skies, on razor wings, without wings at all, lifted in steel. Thermodynamics, chemistry, mathematics, physics: it's all there, every branch of reality in a glorious twining cocoon of webbing, stretching on and on and on and he can touch every point, long and thin but never brittle. He feels glorious and calm and free- 

And he wrenches down to the ground, pulled by a single stifled syllable. ‘No.’ 

He feels like curiosity, concentrated in this place that he just left. He can still see the imprint of heat his body left in the air, against the wall. He knows how long the oxygen left would’ve sustained him, versus how fast the carbon dioxide poisoning would have killed him. He knows the same ratios if he’d been sleeping. If he’d been talking. If he’d been screaming. The thought of panic seems already far away. 

He stretches outside the room, sinking into the thrumming currents of Atlantis. So much less sentient, now that he can see her. He feels like settling for a long sleep when the sound comes again. ‘John.’ 

And again, while he lazily withdraws. ‘He’s not dead, he’s not dead, he’s not dead. Oh god, it’s fine, everything’s fine, get a hold of yourself.’ 

He looks, and suddenly that astounding, lazy, happy clarity he’d had is all mirrors and mud, because for all the chemical states that imply attraction, all the physical hormones that flood a body with lust, love can’t be explained with parameters, despair has no rules. He knows everything about the world now, but nothing about people. 

Rodney McKay is pressed against the door he never managed to open, sobbing in little badly-restrained noises (John thinks about the inevitability of rain), his thick arms covering his face. His tools are strewn on the other side of the corridor, the tablet’s screen cracked and dark. John knows, simply and thoroughly, that the damage is purely cosmetic. 

He knows the same can’t be said for Rodney, because he can follow that string to its due course, where things on Atlantis get so suddenly, terribly quiet for a long, long time. He can follow it on and on, until everything is all right and the world doesn’t end; not for anyone, not in the cataclysmic way they fear, though the universe never shifts in its need to have an infinity of petty devastation. 

He hates seeing everything being ‘all right in the greater scheme of things’ because things are not all right for his team, not for his family, and he hates the Ancients for rising with nothing to lose, with nothing left behind, because that’s what’s made them like this

They’re looking at the chemicals in people’s brains, and pretty patterns of genes like spots of light on the floor, and hearts pumping, lungs inflating, hormones and vitamins and oxygen rushing up and down tissue, and they’re not seeing anything. 

Rodney sobs and sobs and sobs and John descends because he isn’t dead yet, and no important anyone of his is going to suffer as long as he can say otherwise. 

What does he care about the laws of probability anyway?

 

Comments

( 15 comments — Leave a comment )
nuetronorange
May. 23rd, 2011 06:08 am (UTC)
OMG! Next bit!! Please!!!

I loved Johns thought processes but sad for Rodney sobbing, I'd love to see the next part, :-) pretty please.
verob2002
May. 23rd, 2011 06:09 am (UTC)
sweet, but now we need more!
rawa_02
May. 23rd, 2011 06:22 am (UTC)
And then...
ebilchickens
May. 23rd, 2011 06:56 am (UTC)
Wow. Beautifully written. And the choice to take the chance with the odds to spare his team... his family pain is so John. Hope there's more of this.
trystings
May. 23rd, 2011 11:15 am (UTC)
Wow, that was beautiful. You have an amazing way with words. (I'm just going to assume for my peace of mind, that all ends well for John. :))
senket
May. 24th, 2011 07:28 am (UTC)
Of course all ends well for John! Rodney was on it! 8D

Probably confusing as hell to decend naked and have some crying guy throw himself at you but, hey, it's John. I'm sure he can manage. And manage well. heh.
fullygoldy
May. 23rd, 2011 12:41 pm (UTC)
Just beautiful! Thank you.
whogeek
May. 23rd, 2011 12:46 pm (UTC)
Oh, so gorgeous. ♥ Oh boys. **smishes them**
(Deleted comment)
danceswithgary
May. 23rd, 2011 04:24 pm (UTC)
That was lovely. :-)
mckaysmonkey
May. 23rd, 2011 06:15 pm (UTC)
This is beautifully written. Glad John wouldn't leave Rodney behind.
miso_no_tsuki
May. 23rd, 2011 10:18 pm (UTC)
I love the way you have used language here. Just lovely.
*runs off to add to memories*
skeddy_kat
May. 24th, 2011 01:30 am (UTC)
This was so very cool. Oh, John!
rissabby
May. 24th, 2011 06:09 am (UTC)
Wonderful.
wanted_a_pony
May. 25th, 2011 01:03 pm (UTC)
I love the way you swooped & dove & microscoped (is that a word??) with languange here, the contrasts between carefree & desperate & curious. Poor Rodney! It/John/they will be all right, yes?!?

I hope you've been successful in writing more in SGA &/or your other fandoms--this is great stuff! Thanks for writing & sharing it with us.
( 15 comments — Leave a comment )

Profile

skull
senket
Why are there feet in the freezer?
Website

Latest Month

January 2022
S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031     

Tags

Comments

  • (Anonymous)
    2 Jul 2013, 17:40
    what immediately sprang to mind for me was that lestrade would do this for him because if he refused, mycroft would only find someone else and at least he knows that he'll never be able to take it so…
  • senket
    17 May 2012, 16:14
    Absolutely heartbreaking, poor Mycroft and poor Lestrade. What a complete fucked up situation with no end in sight unless Greg breaks...

    I hope you write them again someday.
  • senket
    19 Apr 2012, 06:00
    That was like getting hit with an emotional bullet train. I doff my cap to you and your prowess with the written word.
  • senket
    14 Apr 2012, 03:23
    Oh, this is darling. I love the dynamic these three have here. ♥ This is my very favourite OT3.
  • senket
    14 Apr 2012, 03:10
    Oh Jim. ♥ I love the way you write these two.
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Gilbert Rizo