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[darsnape-dracul.livejournal.com]

Title: Tuscany
Author: darsnape-dracul
Summary: I can't think of one. Rodney's in Tuscany and he's all alone.
Warnings: Really randomly sad. Made me feel weird inside writing it. Also, unbeta'd except for spellcheck and with such big run-on sentences that every English teacher I had would kill me. May have mentions of squicky subjects. Nothing graphic.

Rodney's lying naked under the sheet, because Atlantis is gone and there's nothing left so who would really care if he's naked. In a college Dorm. In Tuscany. Because the sun is hot, and the food is good, and the coffee is incredible if expensive [and doesn't that bring back memories of late nights before the Wraith attack, when he and Radek stayed up at all manners of the night hyped on stims and just wishing, begging, willing to plead and sell their firstborn for a cup of real honest to god coffee, made just right by a sweet little old barista from the old hot dry corner, who's been in the business for forever, and knows how to make it just right.] and if Rodney stays away from the beach and the tourists, and the cast, when he finally goes to visit it during the night, the memories are dull enough, and the ocean is different enough that he can pretend that he's not missing Atlantis.

The town is picturesque, with it's little houses of warm yellow stone, that looks kinda like marble, and kinda like adobe, and since when did he really care what stone looked like, and Rodney sighs and knows that it's Teyla's fault. He's over a universe, and a couple millions miles away from the people he's lost and left, and everything still reminds him of the family that's gone. There's peaches that are sold on the roadside, and Rodney stops to pick one up every morning as he walks to the hills. The team had gotten him used to regular exercise, and at least here no one is shooting, or maiming [and doesn't that one bring back memories and nightmares of blood?], or otherwise trying to damage him, so the walk is much more pleasant than most. 

The trees make him think of the mainland that was left burning, and the miles and miles of picturesque checkerboard crops remind him of the grain that was lost that season. The tough old men that work the field of the little town that Rodney had appropriated are so much like Ronon that Rodney tries not to cry. It's the macho code after all. The sun is warm when Rodney gets to the top of the hill, with the cliff face from where he jumps from time to time to swoop through the air; a pathetic tribute to John and his love of flying. His wings are what got him away, and Rodney would give anything to cut them off and get his team back. But that’s not the way things work. At least the villagers know and accept. They don’t care, because they have their little corner of the valley and an ‘angel’ to watch over them. That’s all they want, and well as some security. Rodney’s got enough back pay that he can provide them with at least that, and they give him a refuge from the world. SGC owes him that at least.

He thinks he might come back to the SGC, but what would he say. HE got away from there because he was in such shock from what happened that nobody bothered to ask how he had gotten away alive. If he went back, they’d start to ask question he doesn’t want to answer.

Sam still keeps in touch, if only because she wants to ask him questions on the math, and so that he can check hers. That and the patience of the villagers is all the contact he can stand. He probably won’t live to see the year’s end.

 

 

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

you have no idea how much that makes me happy. Thank you for the feeedback.
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