wliberation @ livejournal (wliberation) wrote in dustyoldbrown,
wliberation @ livejournal

[NEW] Fanfiction: Stargate Atlantis: Untitled Beckett/McKay, PG

I'll make a diversion.

They'll after me. I think they're buying it.

Stay on your knees.

Colonel, we have a man down.

Rodney sits by Carson's bed and chews on his fingernails. He's fully aware of the fact that there's another person in the room with him, but he hasn't turned around to see who it is. The big shadow hovering at the edge of his vision is all the confirmation of identity he needs. He isn't certain why Ronon of all people is there, has been there, sitting still in the shadows and not saying anything, for nearly half an hour. He doesn't have energy left for the strange trails of cavemen's thoughts. Still, it's a comfort, to know he's not alone in this. And then he feels guilty, having thought that thought, because it makes him sound selfish. Which he is, that's a fact, but that's not all there is, not what this is.

"You know," he says anxiously idly to the man sulking in the corner behind him, just because he's tired of the silence that only serves to make him more aware of how slowly the minutes are passing, "he promised to show me Scotland one day." When Ronon doesn't make a sound, he adds, "It's a place. Back home. It's where he grew up. Where his family is. I've never been there, and he said he'd take me."

Ronon hums shortly in response, as much as a man like him can hum. Rodney isn't quite convinced Ronon gets what he's saying, but he drops it.

The nail on his left thumb has gotten short enough to hurt, so he switches to the right thumb. "He's not very good at the James Bond routine, is he? Not that I am, either, but... Well, I mean, he gets the job done, but look at Bond - he gets out of it alright, too. With his suit all straight and everything. A hot chick at his arm, even. But what does our hero do? He--"

He swallows the words because they sound bad enough in his head, and he sits there quiet for a long while.

"I'm just saying he's a stupid... idiot and he shouldn't have done it."

When Ronon speaks, it's like a thunder hitting the back of Rodney's head. "An idiot?" he booms, and Rodney must be imagining the streak of protectiveness in his voice. "He saved our lives, like a true warrior."

"He's not a warrior," he snaps over his shoulder. And then, just for emphasis and much, much softer, "He's not a warrior."

"He bought us the time we needed."

"Well!" Rodney snaps again, louder. "Well, that, that is just great, isn't it? Fantastic! He bought us time, and, well, that's..." He trails off and bites his thumb hard enough to almost break the skin. Ronon doesn't say another word.

After a while, Rodney says conversationally, as much to himself as to Ronon, "Everyone knows his first name. Everyone. Guys whose first names everyone knows don't die on missions. I've watched my Star Trek. I know that much." He doesn't have to look over his shoulder to know the look that Ronon is sending him. Just as well. He doesn't have to explain his theories to anyone.

He doesn't like the word 'vigil'. It sounds too much like waiting for death. No, he's merely waiting for a chance to make Sleeping Beauty jokes, and then Carson will smile and roll his eyes, and then everything will be alright. Just the way it used to be.

His right thumb is starting to hurt now, too, so he literally sits on his hands. It's that or taking a hold of Carson's hand, and he won't do that because if he did that, he might start crying, and he's not quite sure he's comfortable with crying in front of military cavemen.

Tags: fandom: stargate atlantis, form: fanart, form: fanfiction, genre: slash, sga: beckett/mckay

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