Stories. Oy...
Mar. 25th, 2006 06:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maisfeekaSomeone - whose name will not be mentioned *Cough*![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kwaldo12*Cough* - has gotten me to write SGA semi-slash. For her OTP. Mind you, this is a genre I don't write, for a show I watch casually (and only since she talked me into watching it a few months ago). Nonetheless, I have written two short pieces, and since she talked me into posting them at wraithbait.com I figured I should put them up here as well. So... here goes...
Title:Waking with the Dead
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Beckett
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just got talked into playing with them, I'm certainly not making any money with 'em.
Author: Maisfeeka
It was dark.
And quiet.
That time of night when the darkness stretches before you like an endless tunnel. When your mind relives the moments you hoped you'd never have to think of again.
He lay there for a long time, trying to will his mind to shut off, to stop showing him images of all the people he'd lost like some sort of parade of the goddamned dead. The faces, like they were still here with him - smiling, angry, laughing, sleeping, whatever… but ultimately looking up at him out of dead eyes. He could see them, he could hear them, hell, he could *smell* them. They were here, real, with him.
Except not.
He got out of bed and they followed him as he made his way to the window, still whispering in his ear. Telling him their hopes, their dreams, their pain. Telling him again and again how he hadn't been quick enough, smart enough, *good* enough. How he had been the one to let all of those hopes and dreams die with them. How someone else would have found a way to save them.
The long dark teatime of the soul, he thought, then laughed harshly, knowing he'd even managed to get the quote messed up. Damned if he could remember the real one though.
He shook his head, eyes closed, willing them to go away. He'd even take the not-sleeping if they'd just go away. He rested his hands flat against the glass, letting the coolness of it soothe him, ground him in what was real - if anything was real in this godforsaken place where the Wraith or a damn bug or some fluke virus could wipe out your life before you knew what hit you.
He wasn't sure how long he'd stood there. Could have been three minutes or three hours. Just letting the voices wash over him, condemn him.
Condemning himself.
The warm hand - real, not a ghost, not dead - touched his shoulder gently. "Come back to bed, John."
The soft Scottish burr was warm, too, in some way he couldn't even begin to explain. He turned toward Carson almost blindly. "The voices…"
"Aye, I know. Come back to bed. Let me help chase them away."
"So many dead. My fault."
"It's no your fault, John." There was a hint of a sigh in the voice as if it had said those words many times before and held out little hope that they would be believed. "But I suppose you would'na be the man I loved if you could let them go easily."
John looked up at him meeting his eyes for the first time. "You love me?"
"God help us both," Carson said quietly.
"You shouldn't." John turned away from him again to stare out the window at the dark sky. "But, God, I'm glad you do."
Carson put both hands on John's shoulders and dropped a kiss on the side of his neck. "Come to bed," he whispered in his ear. "Let me chase away the ghosts."
And
Title:Dreaming with the Dead
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Beckett
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just got talked into playing with them, I'm certainly not making any money with 'em.
Author: Maisfeeka
They woke him up this time.
Those dead people who just wouldn't seem to stay dead.
He'd slept tonight, finally tired enough to slip past them into rest. He'd exhausted himself physically, till Beckett had threatened to get several people to hold him down and give him an injection to *make* him sleep.
That was something he wouldn't - couldn't - allow. He'd found that out after the last mission when they'd had to put him out to remove the arrowhead lodged in his arm. In that drugged sleep the dead had caught him. He'd been trapped with them. Trapped in some sort of bizarre dream world where they died over and over again in front of him, while he watched, unable to do anything to help them.
And Carson wondered why he'd looked so bad when he'd come around. John let him think it had to do with his injury. Not even to Carson would he have admitted the horrors he'd dreamed.
In any case, tonight he'd convinced Carson he was on his way back to his quarters to rest. Which he had been, really. It's just that he took a little detour to get there.
One about the length of two circuits around the city.
Still, it had let him sleep. And wasn't that the point, anyway?
Or rather, it *had* let him sleep. Till they woke him.
He sat up in a cold sweat, breath rushing out in an almost gasp. For a moment he'd thought he felt their cold hands on him and he was awake so fast the ancient Egyptians would have feared for the safety of his ka.
Carson stirred next to him and he jumped again. It had been a long time since he'd slept so deeply he hadn't noticed someone climbing into bed with him. Not that he minded having Carson in his bed, quite the contrary, but he always knew when Carson got there.
Except not tonight apparently.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair as if he could rub the images away and jumped again when a warm hand touched the side of his face. "Jesus, Carson."
Carson pushed himself up further on his elbow, eyes still unfocused with sleep, "I did na think a simple touch would shock you so. You knew I was here, surely?" His eyes sharpened and he sat up. "You didn't, did you?" his soft burr thickened, "Ye had no idea I'd come in."
John made a face. "Of course, I did." A quick glance at Carson showed him to be unconvinced and John couldn't help but roll his eyes. "All right, so I didn't hear you. And stop checking to see if I have a fever," he pushed Carson's hand away irritably, "I don't. I'm just… tired."
"Aye," Carson said softly. "They haunt you still, do they not? No matter that you promised me they'd gone?" He shook his head.
"I didn't want to worry you."
Carson's eyebrows rose, "And ye think this will worry me less? To think that you're hiding this from me?" His face softened when he saw John's sheepish look. "Come lie down with me, ye foolish lummox. If my presence isn't enough to chase them away at least I can hold you while you face them down on your own."
"Lummox?" John repeated incredulously. "Is that even a *word*?"
"It is indeed and quite suiting for you at the moment," Carson said complacently. "Now…" He stretched out again and patted the space on the pillow beside his head. "Right about here is where you should be, as I see things."
"Oh, really?" John lay down slowly beside him. "Right here?" He rested his head on the pillow.
"Nearly." Carson leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"Now that's not where I *hoped* you were going with that," John complained.
"Beggars can't be choosers," Carson replied archly, "Try me again in the morning when you've slept. In the meantime…" He tugged John a little closer until John's head rested on his shoulder. "There, yes, I see now that this is actually the correct spot. Do ye think ye can sleep this way?"
John let himself relax into Carson's warmth, hearing the soft sounds of his breath and heartbeat. "I think I might just be able to," he said quietly. "Though I reserve the right to revisit that kiss thing in the morning."
"Aye and you would no be the man I love if you didn't," Carson said, the burr of his voice rumbling pleasantly in his chest. "But first, we sleep. Be at peace, my love."
And somehow, John was.
So... that's them. And I have this sinking feeling there are more coming. Sigh...
Let me know what you think.
kwaldo12*Cough*Title:Waking with the Dead
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Beckett
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just got talked into playing with them, I'm certainly not making any money with 'em.
Author: Maisfeeka
It was dark.
And quiet.
That time of night when the darkness stretches before you like an endless tunnel. When your mind relives the moments you hoped you'd never have to think of again.
He lay there for a long time, trying to will his mind to shut off, to stop showing him images of all the people he'd lost like some sort of parade of the goddamned dead. The faces, like they were still here with him - smiling, angry, laughing, sleeping, whatever… but ultimately looking up at him out of dead eyes. He could see them, he could hear them, hell, he could *smell* them. They were here, real, with him.
Except not.
He got out of bed and they followed him as he made his way to the window, still whispering in his ear. Telling him their hopes, their dreams, their pain. Telling him again and again how he hadn't been quick enough, smart enough, *good* enough. How he had been the one to let all of those hopes and dreams die with them. How someone else would have found a way to save them.
The long dark teatime of the soul, he thought, then laughed harshly, knowing he'd even managed to get the quote messed up. Damned if he could remember the real one though.
He shook his head, eyes closed, willing them to go away. He'd even take the not-sleeping if they'd just go away. He rested his hands flat against the glass, letting the coolness of it soothe him, ground him in what was real - if anything was real in this godforsaken place where the Wraith or a damn bug or some fluke virus could wipe out your life before you knew what hit you.
He wasn't sure how long he'd stood there. Could have been three minutes or three hours. Just letting the voices wash over him, condemn him.
Condemning himself.
The warm hand - real, not a ghost, not dead - touched his shoulder gently. "Come back to bed, John."
The soft Scottish burr was warm, too, in some way he couldn't even begin to explain. He turned toward Carson almost blindly. "The voices…"
"Aye, I know. Come back to bed. Let me help chase them away."
"So many dead. My fault."
"It's no your fault, John." There was a hint of a sigh in the voice as if it had said those words many times before and held out little hope that they would be believed. "But I suppose you would'na be the man I loved if you could let them go easily."
John looked up at him meeting his eyes for the first time. "You love me?"
"God help us both," Carson said quietly.
"You shouldn't." John turned away from him again to stare out the window at the dark sky. "But, God, I'm glad you do."
Carson put both hands on John's shoulders and dropped a kiss on the side of his neck. "Come to bed," he whispered in his ear. "Let me chase away the ghosts."
And
Title:Dreaming with the Dead
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/Beckett
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just got talked into playing with them, I'm certainly not making any money with 'em.
Author: Maisfeeka
They woke him up this time.
Those dead people who just wouldn't seem to stay dead.
He'd slept tonight, finally tired enough to slip past them into rest. He'd exhausted himself physically, till Beckett had threatened to get several people to hold him down and give him an injection to *make* him sleep.
That was something he wouldn't - couldn't - allow. He'd found that out after the last mission when they'd had to put him out to remove the arrowhead lodged in his arm. In that drugged sleep the dead had caught him. He'd been trapped with them. Trapped in some sort of bizarre dream world where they died over and over again in front of him, while he watched, unable to do anything to help them.
And Carson wondered why he'd looked so bad when he'd come around. John let him think it had to do with his injury. Not even to Carson would he have admitted the horrors he'd dreamed.
In any case, tonight he'd convinced Carson he was on his way back to his quarters to rest. Which he had been, really. It's just that he took a little detour to get there.
One about the length of two circuits around the city.
Still, it had let him sleep. And wasn't that the point, anyway?
Or rather, it *had* let him sleep. Till they woke him.
He sat up in a cold sweat, breath rushing out in an almost gasp. For a moment he'd thought he felt their cold hands on him and he was awake so fast the ancient Egyptians would have feared for the safety of his ka.
Carson stirred next to him and he jumped again. It had been a long time since he'd slept so deeply he hadn't noticed someone climbing into bed with him. Not that he minded having Carson in his bed, quite the contrary, but he always knew when Carson got there.
Except not tonight apparently.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair as if he could rub the images away and jumped again when a warm hand touched the side of his face. "Jesus, Carson."
Carson pushed himself up further on his elbow, eyes still unfocused with sleep, "I did na think a simple touch would shock you so. You knew I was here, surely?" His eyes sharpened and he sat up. "You didn't, did you?" his soft burr thickened, "Ye had no idea I'd come in."
John made a face. "Of course, I did." A quick glance at Carson showed him to be unconvinced and John couldn't help but roll his eyes. "All right, so I didn't hear you. And stop checking to see if I have a fever," he pushed Carson's hand away irritably, "I don't. I'm just… tired."
"Aye," Carson said softly. "They haunt you still, do they not? No matter that you promised me they'd gone?" He shook his head.
"I didn't want to worry you."
Carson's eyebrows rose, "And ye think this will worry me less? To think that you're hiding this from me?" His face softened when he saw John's sheepish look. "Come lie down with me, ye foolish lummox. If my presence isn't enough to chase them away at least I can hold you while you face them down on your own."
"Lummox?" John repeated incredulously. "Is that even a *word*?"
"It is indeed and quite suiting for you at the moment," Carson said complacently. "Now…" He stretched out again and patted the space on the pillow beside his head. "Right about here is where you should be, as I see things."
"Oh, really?" John lay down slowly beside him. "Right here?" He rested his head on the pillow.
"Nearly." Carson leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
"Now that's not where I *hoped* you were going with that," John complained.
"Beggars can't be choosers," Carson replied archly, "Try me again in the morning when you've slept. In the meantime…" He tugged John a little closer until John's head rested on his shoulder. "There, yes, I see now that this is actually the correct spot. Do ye think ye can sleep this way?"
John let himself relax into Carson's warmth, hearing the soft sounds of his breath and heartbeat. "I think I might just be able to," he said quietly. "Though I reserve the right to revisit that kiss thing in the morning."
"Aye and you would no be the man I love if you didn't," Carson said, the burr of his voice rumbling pleasantly in his chest. "But first, we sleep. Be at peace, my love."
And somehow, John was.
So... that's them. And I have this sinking feeling there are more coming. Sigh...
Let me know what you think.