![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Said and Done
Rating: PG for off screen violence, nothing explicit, especially the nudity.
Characters: Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, Teyla
Disclaimer: I don't own it (and I'm so sick of saying it!)
Summary: "...so why does his skin look like a black and blue road map? And why is he wet? And tied up? And gagged? And, oh, yeah, naked!" Though edited, this has not been beta'd and I apologize for that. Written for the Bi-weekly Challenge over yonder at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sheps_atlantis.
A/N: Apologies also to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
parisindy. This isn't your requested tag, but no worries as I will get that written, I promise.
Said and Done
“So if you rescued him as you keep claiming,” Rodney said, inflecting an amount of patience into his voice with an effort that actually kind of ached, “so why does his skin look like a black and blue road map? And why is he wet? And tied up? And gagged? And, oh, yeah, naked!”
Not naked enough for Teyla to have to turn her face away and provide John with what little dignity there was to scrounge – the team had walked in just as the Romanesque healers were covering John to the waist with a sheet; more like the actions of after thought rather than finishing up an exam, because the healer and his two nurses had seemed rather hurried about it.
The Chancellor, who was more Arabic than Roman in his layered and deeply colored robes, wrung his hands raw while worrying his bottom lip. He took his sweet time about answering, far too much time in a room of cool white marble that seemed to suck the heat from the place. And John was wet, only partially covered and Rodney could see him shivering from where he stood. Although he supposed it was something to be partially relieved about that Sheppard was looking pissed rather than terrified. Terrified meant that you needed to worry more than you already were. Pissed meant that your current level of worry was adequate.
Then when a nurse busied herself adjusting the sheet, Sheppard flinched.
“Uh...” chancellor Kol stammered. Then Ronon folded his broad, bared arms across his chest, flexing a few muscles, and Kol blurted, “He was bathed, of course. To clean his wounds -”
“You didn't tell us he was injured,” Ronon said, every word a veiled threat. “You said you found him passed out. You didn't say he'd been hurt.”
Chancellor Kor swallowed audibly. “He – he was delirious, put up a fight and... and... we will be honest with you. We feared him the enemy – a possible worshipper. We did not mean -”
“You bathed him only because you knew we were coming,” said Teyla. She had that look on her face, the thin and transparent mask of serenity that barely hid the anger simmering underneath. “That is why he is still wet.” The mask cracked, just a hairline. “But why is he tied up?”
“He put up a fight,” the mousy healer offered. “He was quite feral. We feared he would hurt himself.”
“Hurt himself or you?” said Ronon.
Healer stuttered. “Th-that, too. Yes. But... he resorted to biting!” Which explained the gag.
“We did not know. And we humbly apologize -” but Kol was cut off, again, by Ronon shouldering him roughly aside. Ronon whipped out a knife, one of the ones hidden inside his vest-shirt, sending the nurses skittering away, and proceeded to slice through the bonds – starting with the gag, then the ropes around John's chafed wrists and ankles.
No thanks followed Sheppard's new-found freedom to talk. No “what took you guys so long” or “let's get the hell out of here.” He was still, quiet, eyes hot and wild – the eyes of a man one more touch away from going ballistic. There were a lot of bruises on his body, and cuts: right eye swollen shut, swollen lip, and one hell of a bruise on the left side that an X-ray would no doubt translate into cracked or even broken ribs. If John was lucky, maybe just bruised.
Either way, it was a bad placed for that kind of damage, the darker part too close for comfort to the heart.
Ronon was methodically gentle in pulling the sheet to Sheppard's shoulders, then helping him sit up, then helping him wrap the sheet so that there weren't any gaps. Sheppard had to lean most of his weight against Ronon when he stood, continued having to do so as they left, the skittish Chancellor and mousy healer following after, a thousand babbling apologies trailing like shadows.
When they reached the 'jumper, when Sheppard was seated, the hatch closed and the marine driving had it airborne, Sheppard's body seem to melt, lungs emptying with a heart-felt sigh of relief. The moment to see the real John beneath only what he wanted to show was here, now; in the aftermath, the point of things being said and done, and all that remained was to go home. In that moment, a brief heart-beat of a moment, Sheppard's defenses went down.
The worse the situation, the easier it was to see.
Sheppard was still shaking, even with an emergency blanket added to the sheet. Rodney didn't think it entirely the fault of being cold, not according to the look on Sheppard's face.
Then it was gone when he closed his eyes, leaning more heavily against Ronon, exhausted enough to sleep anywhere. He didn't flinch when Teyla opened the blankets enough to clean the cuts on his upper body, or when Ronon slid his arm across his shoulder's for better support.
Rodney had to ask, the urge too strong not to despite the answer covering half of Sheppard's body, “You all right?”
John opened one eye, just a sliver, and with a small, tired smile whispered, “Will be.”
Rodney didn't doubt it.
The End
Rating: PG for off screen violence, nothing explicit, especially the nudity.
Characters: Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, Teyla
Disclaimer: I don't own it (and I'm so sick of saying it!)
Summary: "...so why does his skin look like a black and blue road map? And why is he wet? And tied up? And gagged? And, oh, yeah, naked!" Though edited, this has not been beta'd and I apologize for that. Written for the Bi-weekly Challenge over yonder at
sheps_atlantis.A/N: Apologies also to
parisindy. This isn't your requested tag, but no worries as I will get that written, I promise. “So if you rescued him as you keep claiming,” Rodney said, inflecting an amount of patience into his voice with an effort that actually kind of ached, “so why does his skin look like a black and blue road map? And why is he wet? And tied up? And gagged? And, oh, yeah, naked!”
Not naked enough for Teyla to have to turn her face away and provide John with what little dignity there was to scrounge – the team had walked in just as the Romanesque healers were covering John to the waist with a sheet; more like the actions of after thought rather than finishing up an exam, because the healer and his two nurses had seemed rather hurried about it.
The Chancellor, who was more Arabic than Roman in his layered and deeply colored robes, wrung his hands raw while worrying his bottom lip. He took his sweet time about answering, far too much time in a room of cool white marble that seemed to suck the heat from the place. And John was wet, only partially covered and Rodney could see him shivering from where he stood. Although he supposed it was something to be partially relieved about that Sheppard was looking pissed rather than terrified. Terrified meant that you needed to worry more than you already were. Pissed meant that your current level of worry was adequate.
Then when a nurse busied herself adjusting the sheet, Sheppard flinched.
“Uh...” chancellor Kol stammered. Then Ronon folded his broad, bared arms across his chest, flexing a few muscles, and Kol blurted, “He was bathed, of course. To clean his wounds -”
“You didn't tell us he was injured,” Ronon said, every word a veiled threat. “You said you found him passed out. You didn't say he'd been hurt.”
Chancellor Kor swallowed audibly. “He – he was delirious, put up a fight and... and... we will be honest with you. We feared him the enemy – a possible worshipper. We did not mean -”
“You bathed him only because you knew we were coming,” said Teyla. She had that look on her face, the thin and transparent mask of serenity that barely hid the anger simmering underneath. “That is why he is still wet.” The mask cracked, just a hairline. “But why is he tied up?”
“He put up a fight,” the mousy healer offered. “He was quite feral. We feared he would hurt himself.”
“Hurt himself or you?” said Ronon.
Healer stuttered. “Th-that, too. Yes. But... he resorted to biting!” Which explained the gag.
“We did not know. And we humbly apologize -” but Kol was cut off, again, by Ronon shouldering him roughly aside. Ronon whipped out a knife, one of the ones hidden inside his vest-shirt, sending the nurses skittering away, and proceeded to slice through the bonds – starting with the gag, then the ropes around John's chafed wrists and ankles.
No thanks followed Sheppard's new-found freedom to talk. No “what took you guys so long” or “let's get the hell out of here.” He was still, quiet, eyes hot and wild – the eyes of a man one more touch away from going ballistic. There were a lot of bruises on his body, and cuts: right eye swollen shut, swollen lip, and one hell of a bruise on the left side that an X-ray would no doubt translate into cracked or even broken ribs. If John was lucky, maybe just bruised.
Either way, it was a bad placed for that kind of damage, the darker part too close for comfort to the heart.
Ronon was methodically gentle in pulling the sheet to Sheppard's shoulders, then helping him sit up, then helping him wrap the sheet so that there weren't any gaps. Sheppard had to lean most of his weight against Ronon when he stood, continued having to do so as they left, the skittish Chancellor and mousy healer following after, a thousand babbling apologies trailing like shadows.
When they reached the 'jumper, when Sheppard was seated, the hatch closed and the marine driving had it airborne, Sheppard's body seem to melt, lungs emptying with a heart-felt sigh of relief. The moment to see the real John beneath only what he wanted to show was here, now; in the aftermath, the point of things being said and done, and all that remained was to go home. In that moment, a brief heart-beat of a moment, Sheppard's defenses went down.
The worse the situation, the easier it was to see.
Sheppard was still shaking, even with an emergency blanket added to the sheet. Rodney didn't think it entirely the fault of being cold, not according to the look on Sheppard's face.
Then it was gone when he closed his eyes, leaning more heavily against Ronon, exhausted enough to sleep anywhere. He didn't flinch when Teyla opened the blankets enough to clean the cuts on his upper body, or when Ronon slid his arm across his shoulder's for better support.
Rodney had to ask, the urge too strong not to despite the answer covering half of Sheppard's body, “You all right?”
John opened one eye, just a sliver, and with a small, tired smile whispered, “Will be.”
Rodney didn't doubt it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-03-04 08:41 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:26 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-04 09:09 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:27 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 12:25 am (UTC)From:"The moment to see the real John beneath only what he wanted to show was here"
I love that part!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:27 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 01:20 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:28 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 02:20 am (UTC)From:*grin*
Glad John's going to be ok (though with Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney there to support him how could he not?)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:28 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 02:53 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:29 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 03:24 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:29 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 03:31 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:30 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 04:11 am (UTC)From:Loved, loved the wonderful comfort...though I'm still wondering what happened to him?
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:33 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 04:56 am (UTC)From:Ha! Rodney. :)
Lovely, teamy end. Great response to the challenge.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:34 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:11 am (UTC)From:this was brilliant thanks for sharing!!
(((hugs)))
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 05:35 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 06:10 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 06:51 am (UTC)From:Thanks Girl. Like I said before, I love going to bed right after reading a delicious whump fic. Yours are ALWAYS delicious.
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 11:48 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 10:53 am (UTC)From:i'm still not sure whether to squeal or pity the man... LOL
no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 11:49 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 06:36 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-03-05 11:49 pm (UTC)From: