![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: After
Rating: PG for language
Characters: Sheppard, McKay
Summary: After a rough day, Rodney give Sheppard a hand.
A/N: Just a little something I whipped up when I was once again hit with the major urge to write some aftermath-comfort fic. Despite having already written some aftermath-comfort fic that I just sent off to be beta'd :D. this story, however, though edited, hasn't been beta'd. Ye have been warned.
After
It was pathetic. John Sheppard: wet, shivering and too weak to so much as blink like a normal human being.
And alive.
Of course he was alive, very much alive and very, very wet, dripping puddles onto the floor soaking into Rodney's knees as he unlaced John's boots. He sighed. The material of his pants were of the kind that turned viciously itchy when wet, and the damn water was cold.
“What did you do, stand under a waterfall?” Rodney huffed. “Why the hell am I even doing this?” He yanked off one boot, followed by a sopping sock plopping like a pile of cotton slug onto the floor. He started work on the second boot. “I swear, it's like you have a fetish for insane rescue missions, the more wrong they go, the better.”
But it had been a success. A week of effort had seen the return of a missing team and two of Teyla's people, with only minor injuries and one unlucky marine in need of surgery but going to live to show for it. Rodney wanted to think that Sheppard would call this a good day. Except knowing him, he was going to bristle and brood over the bad guys who had done this still being out there. Rodney didn't even know who the bad guys were. He didn't know anything, stuck deep in the city fighting his own battle against one hell of a power surge and getting the 'gate back on line. He'd fixed the 'gate, but still didn't know what had caused the surge, which was pissing him off like nothing ever had.
Rodney looked up with a, “huh.” Maybe that was why Zelenka was avoiding him.
He worked the second boot free a little roughly according to Sheppard's quiet groan. Really it should have been impossible that Sheppard was sitting up; slumped, half-asleep, but up.
“Sorry,” Rodney grunted. “This really is more of a Teyla thing.”
Teyla was with her people, making sure they were all right. Ronon was off-world with fresh marines digging up clues to the whereabouts of the kidnappers. Not that Sheppard knew about the little mission, or would know until after a good eight hours plus per Jennifer's orders. She was inconsolable when people didn't obey her oh-so-wise medical commands, and an inconsolable Jennifer made for an equally unhappy Rodney.
Rodney stood and proceeded to wrestle the mud-caked and recalcitrant vest off Sheppard. The damn zipper kept sticking.
“You know you're going to have to replace your blanket,” he said. He grit his teeth, tugged, yanked and twisted until, finally, the stupid zipper slide effortlessly open – snot-nosed piece of crap. He slid the vest down John's arms and dropped it on top of the oozing pile of socks.
Rodney sneered. Now for the fun part – not. He peeled, and it really did feel like peeling, Sheppard's shirt off his back, adding it to the slopping pile. Shirt-free, he was now able to finally dry Sheppard off. Just looking at him wet and shivering was making Rodney cold. He softly patted Sheppard's skin, careful of the bruises.
Now for the pants. Crap, Rodney hated this. He had Sheppard lay on his back, helping him to make sure he didn't add another bruise to the many that that thing he called his hair was hiding, turning his brain to mush even if Jennifer had ruled out a concussion. All Rodney could say was thank goodness for lean Colonels who had no love for tight clothing. The waist of the pants were a cinch to get off without all that tugging, yanking and potential flashing of things Rodney really didn't want to see. The legs, however – even being skinny things that they were – refused to be accommodating, and Rodney was sure leg hair was being lost in the process.
“That's what you get for playing in the rain,” Rodney sing-songed.
Sheppard didn't react, neither to the comment nor his skin being chafed. He was out cold if the steady movement of his chest was anything to go by. Rodney patted his legs dry. He refused to touch the boxers. He then went to the small closet that came with every room where Sheppard no doubt stored extra blankets. It's where Rodney stored his.
Jackpot. He took out two and covered John with both. The first he tucked around John, leaving no gaps. The second he draped loosely.
Kind deed done for the day.
Before heading out, Rodney patted where he knew Sheppard's shoulder to be.
“You did good today, pal.”
He left Sheppard to his well-earned rest.
The End
Rating: PG for language
Characters: Sheppard, McKay
Summary: After a rough day, Rodney give Sheppard a hand.
A/N: Just a little something I whipped up when I was once again hit with the major urge to write some aftermath-comfort fic. Despite having already written some aftermath-comfort fic that I just sent off to be beta'd :D. this story, however, though edited, hasn't been beta'd. Ye have been warned.
It was pathetic. John Sheppard: wet, shivering and too weak to so much as blink like a normal human being.
And alive.
Of course he was alive, very much alive and very, very wet, dripping puddles onto the floor soaking into Rodney's knees as he unlaced John's boots. He sighed. The material of his pants were of the kind that turned viciously itchy when wet, and the damn water was cold.
“What did you do, stand under a waterfall?” Rodney huffed. “Why the hell am I even doing this?” He yanked off one boot, followed by a sopping sock plopping like a pile of cotton slug onto the floor. He started work on the second boot. “I swear, it's like you have a fetish for insane rescue missions, the more wrong they go, the better.”
But it had been a success. A week of effort had seen the return of a missing team and two of Teyla's people, with only minor injuries and one unlucky marine in need of surgery but going to live to show for it. Rodney wanted to think that Sheppard would call this a good day. Except knowing him, he was going to bristle and brood over the bad guys who had done this still being out there. Rodney didn't even know who the bad guys were. He didn't know anything, stuck deep in the city fighting his own battle against one hell of a power surge and getting the 'gate back on line. He'd fixed the 'gate, but still didn't know what had caused the surge, which was pissing him off like nothing ever had.
Rodney looked up with a, “huh.” Maybe that was why Zelenka was avoiding him.
He worked the second boot free a little roughly according to Sheppard's quiet groan. Really it should have been impossible that Sheppard was sitting up; slumped, half-asleep, but up.
“Sorry,” Rodney grunted. “This really is more of a Teyla thing.”
Teyla was with her people, making sure they were all right. Ronon was off-world with fresh marines digging up clues to the whereabouts of the kidnappers. Not that Sheppard knew about the little mission, or would know until after a good eight hours plus per Jennifer's orders. She was inconsolable when people didn't obey her oh-so-wise medical commands, and an inconsolable Jennifer made for an equally unhappy Rodney.
Rodney stood and proceeded to wrestle the mud-caked and recalcitrant vest off Sheppard. The damn zipper kept sticking.
“You know you're going to have to replace your blanket,” he said. He grit his teeth, tugged, yanked and twisted until, finally, the stupid zipper slide effortlessly open – snot-nosed piece of crap. He slid the vest down John's arms and dropped it on top of the oozing pile of socks.
Rodney sneered. Now for the fun part – not. He peeled, and it really did feel like peeling, Sheppard's shirt off his back, adding it to the slopping pile. Shirt-free, he was now able to finally dry Sheppard off. Just looking at him wet and shivering was making Rodney cold. He softly patted Sheppard's skin, careful of the bruises.
Now for the pants. Crap, Rodney hated this. He had Sheppard lay on his back, helping him to make sure he didn't add another bruise to the many that that thing he called his hair was hiding, turning his brain to mush even if Jennifer had ruled out a concussion. All Rodney could say was thank goodness for lean Colonels who had no love for tight clothing. The waist of the pants were a cinch to get off without all that tugging, yanking and potential flashing of things Rodney really didn't want to see. The legs, however – even being skinny things that they were – refused to be accommodating, and Rodney was sure leg hair was being lost in the process.
“That's what you get for playing in the rain,” Rodney sing-songed.
Sheppard didn't react, neither to the comment nor his skin being chafed. He was out cold if the steady movement of his chest was anything to go by. Rodney patted his legs dry. He refused to touch the boxers. He then went to the small closet that came with every room where Sheppard no doubt stored extra blankets. It's where Rodney stored his.
Jackpot. He took out two and covered John with both. The first he tucked around John, leaving no gaps. The second he draped loosely.
Kind deed done for the day.
Before heading out, Rodney patted where he knew Sheppard's shoulder to be.
“You did good today, pal.”
He left Sheppard to his well-earned rest.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 02:04 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:49 am (UTC)From:And alive
Date: 2009-04-16 02:11 am (UTC)From:ROFL
Rodney, the supreme nursemaid of Pegasus, always seems to pick Sheppard up.....sometimes literally......
I feel inclined to want to just 'hug' him.....as I always
do when I finish reading one of your Sheppard-barely-makes-it
back-alive stories.
As always a great story.......
Re: And alive
Date: 2009-04-17 01:50 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 02:15 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:50 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 03:16 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:50 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 03:32 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:51 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 03:32 am (UTC)From:Loved this immensely. Great writing. Told the story all through Rodney's work and gripe.
Bravo!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:51 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 04:02 am (UTC)From:Very nice moment between the boys. =D
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:52 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 05:04 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 05:38 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 07:26 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 08:14 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:55 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 12:14 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 04:13 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:55 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 05:02 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:00 am (UTC)From:The bad guys really didn't do much. It was just your standard chase, rescue, etc with maybe a little fighting on the side. Nothing major, just a way to exhaust poor shep so that Rodney has to take care of him ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-16 10:04 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:00 am (UTC)From:PS: I'm still trying to come up with an idea in which Sheppard is whumped on his knees, so stay tuned ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 12:55 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 02:02 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 03:07 am (UTC)From:Tee hee. I liked this line. Great story!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 12:36 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 06:17 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 12:37 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 01:36 pm (UTC)From:Love it lots :D
no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 12:37 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 07:54 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 12:38 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-17 10:46 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 12:39 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 09:52 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-18 10:39 pm (UTC)From:I'll admit - for me whump is a means to get to the comfort, and sometimes I don't want to put up with the hows and whys just to get to that point, especially if there's no reason for it. But I do understand the frustration of not getting the entire story ;)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-19 12:20 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 08:43 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 02:39 am (UTC)From:I have a soft spot for a cold, soaked John in need of warmth.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-20 08:44 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 01:03 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 11:56 pm (UTC)From: