![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
kageygirl.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficThe "extra sensory perception" version...
Title: Crucible
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kageygirl
Rating: PG
Summary: What comes out the other side is the essential.
Crucible
It was spindly fingers of spun glass reaching in through his chest, piercing his gut with razor-thin shards of ice, clawing up into his throat to freeze his voice with pain and stillness.
John gasped, and took another step forward, shaking his head as if to throw off the sensation.
Next it was fire, burrowing into his stomach, burning his fingers down to raw exposed nerves, scorching away any hope that the torment would end. John hunched over a little, clenched his undamaged fists against the phantom pain, and took another step.
Hollow, aching emptiness, as if a pit had opened up inside him and was draining off everything good that had ever happened to him, that could ever happen to him, and that gaping wound hurt worse than the first two. John squeezed his eyes shut, forced his breathing to steady, and took another step.
Sheer pain, tearing and rending and searing, as if he were being shredded, torn apart, ripped in every direction, and it made him miss the void. He choked on it, focused on the low moan that turned out to be his own, put his head down and took another step.
Release, and he almost staggered with the absence of agony. He was shaking, muscles trembling, lungs aching, sweat pouring off of him, and when hands caught at his arms he flinched violently, but was too weak to pull away.
"Major?"
He forced his eyes open, and there was Rodney, eyes wide and face white and breathing a little fast, but uninjured, whole, apparently not a victim of any of the tortures John had been shown. John let Rodney keep him balanced, and curled his fingers too tightly around Rodney's forearms. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out sounding like he'd swallowed gravel. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I only got--they let me feel echoes of it." Rodney's voice sounded tight, too, and he stared at John, searchingly, but John was too wrung out to do anything more than shake his head and let Rodney see whatever he saw.
"Next time you get taken, and there's a test to get you back? I'm just gonna let them keep you," John said, letting Rodney help him to the far door. Just then, he needed to lean on Rodney, needed to let Rodney hold him up, and from the way Rodney's arm was hard around his waist, Rodney needed it, too.
"Fair enough," Rodney said, with a quick, wry smile that chased the worry off his face for a second, and before he ducked his head, the light in his eyes told John that he didn't believe the lie, either.
Title: Crucible
Author:
kageygirlRating: PG
Summary: What comes out the other side is the essential.
Crucible
It was spindly fingers of spun glass reaching in through his chest, piercing his gut with razor-thin shards of ice, clawing up into his throat to freeze his voice with pain and stillness.
John gasped, and took another step forward, shaking his head as if to throw off the sensation.
Next it was fire, burrowing into his stomach, burning his fingers down to raw exposed nerves, scorching away any hope that the torment would end. John hunched over a little, clenched his undamaged fists against the phantom pain, and took another step.
Hollow, aching emptiness, as if a pit had opened up inside him and was draining off everything good that had ever happened to him, that could ever happen to him, and that gaping wound hurt worse than the first two. John squeezed his eyes shut, forced his breathing to steady, and took another step.
Sheer pain, tearing and rending and searing, as if he were being shredded, torn apart, ripped in every direction, and it made him miss the void. He choked on it, focused on the low moan that turned out to be his own, put his head down and took another step.
Release, and he almost staggered with the absence of agony. He was shaking, muscles trembling, lungs aching, sweat pouring off of him, and when hands caught at his arms he flinched violently, but was too weak to pull away.
"Major?"
He forced his eyes open, and there was Rodney, eyes wide and face white and breathing a little fast, but uninjured, whole, apparently not a victim of any of the tortures John had been shown. John let Rodney keep him balanced, and curled his fingers too tightly around Rodney's forearms. He cleared his throat, but his voice still came out sounding like he'd swallowed gravel. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I only got--they let me feel echoes of it." Rodney's voice sounded tight, too, and he stared at John, searchingly, but John was too wrung out to do anything more than shake his head and let Rodney see whatever he saw.
"Next time you get taken, and there's a test to get you back? I'm just gonna let them keep you," John said, letting Rodney help him to the far door. Just then, he needed to lean on Rodney, needed to let Rodney hold him up, and from the way Rodney's arm was hard around his waist, Rodney needed it, too.
"Fair enough," Rodney said, with a quick, wry smile that chased the worry off his face for a second, and before he ducked his head, the light in his eyes told John that he didn't believe the lie, either.
