Boomerang by Kriadydragon (Ways to Die Challenge)

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Title: Boomerang
Author: kriadydragon
Rating: PG-13 (for swearing, non-explicit nudity and sad content), Gen
Characters: Sheppard, McKay
Synopsis: "I came back for you." Shep-whump and a nude McKay against my will (I have no care for nudity *shudders*). I emphasize again that this is gen.

A/N: This was a labor of love completed at two in the morning. I went over it several times but apologies if mistakes managed to slip through.

Boomerang

Heavenly white and warmth were there and gone in an instant. Maybe too fast. Rodney wondered if he'd over-stepped, rushed things, mucked-up the timing within nano-seconds leaving him stuck in the brainless, pointless paradise of Ancient happy land. Which was just all he needed in the grand scheme of things: trapped with all that ultimate cosmic power behind lock and key, and the memory of Sheppard screaming and begging to be taken instead.

Then he started shivering. Hard, damp floor, cold air, the cocktail-scent of urine and body oder that glued itself to the olfactory senses – hell yes he was in the right place. Rodney opened his eyes to gray dusk, and lifted his head.

“Sheppard?” He shifted his body, scraping bare skin over gritty cement ground. Cold coated him like grime, or maybe that was grime. He'd always wondered if the air in prison cells could be polluted by human waste. He could taste the stench, metallic and stinging on the tip of his tongue. “Hey, Sheppard.”

Still no answer. Rodney pondered if he had the right cell, but the wrong time, and his heart started to pound.

“Crap!” He pushed himself upright, shuddering with a grimace of disgust at what he was subjecting his backside to. “Oh... gosh... Sheppard! I swear, if I'm in the wrong cell, I'm reascending and kicking some Ancient ass. Sheppard! Shep -” A cough spun him around, grinding more grit into the skin of his butt. un-ascending must do wonders for the body, or maybe there was more light than usual coming from that pinhole excuse of a window, because Rodney's eyes adjusted fast.

His heart took a nose-dive. “Ooooh crap.”

The dark lump occupying the right-hand corner of the cell sharpened into a pile of rags and bony limbs; twitching, shivering, and wheezing. McKay would recognize that explosion of dark hair anywhere. The clothes, however, he didn't recognize. Threadbare, brown, barely covering anything...

Right cell, wrong time. The Ancients were slick bastards that way, probably thinking themselves so damn brilliant, chuckling it up while giving hardy claps on the shoulder for outsmarting the the puny little smart-ass. Or maybe congratulating on keeping the little smart-ass out of their happy-land.

Rodney really didn't care. He was back, and by the beard-growth on Sheppard's face, no more than mere months must have past. Crap, he hoped it was months.

Pushing himself to his feet, McKay tip-toed gingerly over the filth as though it would do any good to crouch in front of John. “Okay, Sheppard, I know this is probably a little freaky, but remember where you are. Yes, they did kill me – beat me to death – but nuts to them because I managed to ascend at the last second. You'd be surprised how relaxed you can get when you can no longer feel anything. I managed to, uh, un-ascend, as you can see, so you don't have to be pissed or depressed or whatever anymore. With any luck, the bad guys will be so thoroughly freaked by my reappearance that, uh.... Sheppard?”

Sheppard had yet to look at him. For that matter, now that Rodney thought about it, the Colonel hadn't even so much as gasped, yelped, cussed or rasped out an annoyed “McKay!” over Rodney's glowy re-entrance He hadn't, and still wasn't, doing much of anything except staring at the floor with eyes so glassy they seemed like plastic.

Rodney's heart plummeted deeper, passing his stomach to go straight to his feet. “Sheppard?” Obviously the months (it had so better've been months) had not been kind to him – Rodney's last vision of John was of him throwing himself against the bars like an animal, screaming, threatening, then begging – but that didn't mean he was broken. This was Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. Since the man hadn't cracked under a wraith feeding, he sure as hell wasn't going to fall apart over a few kicks, punches and starvation.

McKay stiffened, glancing down at himself in all his naked glory, then back at John looking shell-shocked and out of it.

“Oh... uh...” Rodney scuttled around to John's side, hunkering down to hide as much of his naked glory as he could. “Hey, Sheppard, come on, I'm not a ghost. I un-ascended. Here...” He grabbed John's wrist, pulling stiff and bony fingers apart to press against the pulse-point of his neck. “Feel that? I'm alive. Totally and completely alive. I'm here, Sheppard – John. I'm right here. They didn't kill me.” He chuckled hysterically. “Okay, they did, but I didn't stay dead. I ascended, actually ascended. Your “think of blue skies” crap actually worked. John? John.”

Placing one hand on the knobby shoulder, Rodney gave Sheppard a gentle shake. “John? Come on, Sheppard. If this is some pathetic attempt at getting back at me... Sheppard? John?” His fingers tightened, digging into thin cloth and flesh straight to bone. It had to hurt with the lack of padding beneath the skin. Rodney squeezed harder, daring to bruise, to hurt.

All he got for it was... nothing. Not a whimper, not even a flinch or wince.

McKay shook harder, jerking the body to make the head wobble precariously on the limp neck. “Sheppard!” Gritting his teeth, he grabbed John by either side of his face and turned his head, forcing eye contact that the other man still didn't meet. “Seriously, Sheppard, this is getting kind of ridiculous. If this is some sort of zen, military, Jedi special ops trick to keep you from going beyond name, rank and serial number you could at least snap out of it for two seconds to congratulate me on an ascension well done. Sheppard!” He patted John's face. “John!” Tugged his hair. “Colonel.” Pinched the skin of his jaw.

Still nothing.

Rodney pressed his hand to the frigid wall, chilling his skin, then reached through the wide collar to press his palm to Sheppard's bony back.

Even more nothing.

“I swear, Colonel,” he poked Sheppard hard in his protruding ribs, “if you don't respond,” then back, “I'm putting Nair in your shampoo,” side of his head. “I did not put in all that effort into coming back just for you to have vacated the premises. I didn't leave you behind, Sheppard. The least you could do is not leave me behind.”

Standing abruptly, Rodney loomed over Sheppard, nudity be damned. “On your feet, soldier! That's an order!” His voice cracked, but he was pretty sure the volume had been at the right decibels.

Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. McKay dropped back to the floor beside John. Either the man was good at playing deaf and dumb or... or... No, he was just really good. A little more prodding, poking, yelling and he would come around. He always came around. McKay never gave him any other choice.

Planning his next round of annoyance, Rodney took a moment to look at Sheppard; really look at him, all gray, filthy, and angled in the sick light. He was shrunk and shriveled, a thing of sticks. His only movements were blinking, twitching, and the mechanical rise and fall of his chest like lungs on a ventilator. There was no way to tell cuts from bruises from dirt.

He had to be cold. He looked so damn cold. So pale. Empty. Sheppard was never empty. He was anything but empty. He was a fire in the storm and a calm breeze the rest of the time. He could hold perfectly still with barely a breath and still vibrate with life. He hummed with it, his eyes danced with it, making one actually believe that death wasn't so damn inevitable after all.

He couldn't be empty. There was no possible way. No way. He couldn't be, he just... couldn't. It wasn't possible.

McKay touched the cold skin of John's arm, bone too close to the surface.

Wasn't possible. Couldn't be.

“I came back for you.”

With no place left to drop, Rodney's heart withered to ash. “Oh... oh no. No. No, no, no, no, please no. Sheppard, please, don't do this to me. Don't, don't, please don't... Oh, gosh, please.” He slid an arm across John's back, pulling him in, holding him tight. Never in his life had he ever given less of a damn about proximity, touching, hugging: those things that he never saw a reason for and was always much happier living without. “Come on, Sheppard. It's all right, everything's going to be all right. I won't go away again, I won't let them hurt you anymore, okay? Just... just don't do this, please.”

Sheppard remained limp and lifeless as a discarded puppet in his arms. Rodney couldn't stop the impression of holding a skeleton. A living, breathing skeleton, ribs pressing into Rodney's arms on the inhale, heart fluttering against his chest. He was not dead. Not dead, damn it! He just wasn't there.

“I came back for you. I came... I... I didn't leave you behind, I...”

McKay still didn't give a damn that he was holding John like a child. He did give a damn that he was starting to cry. He hated crying, and hated it when things were so bad it was all he could do. Resting his chin on the point of the skinny shoulder, Rodney rocked John.

“I didn't leave you behind. Oh, gosh, John, please don't leave me behind.”

He didn't see the guard. Didn't hear his hysterical shouts or the inane babbling of the superstitious bad guys who recalled very clearly having killed the man huddled naked in the cell. He wasn't aware of anything, so when the cavalry arrived after – how many damn months? - it was a little too much like a dream to take at face value. He went along with it, anyways, keeping his mouth shut out of spite except to say, “Don't talk to me. Help John.”

He had every right in any world to be pissed.

That didn't stop him from listening when they started to explain. He heard, little by little, on the way to the jumper then on the jumper ride home with a blanket around his body and his eyes on a too-still John, something about the atmosphere interfering with their transmitters and only being found because Teyla had asked the right questions and Ronon made the right threats.

Yet Rodney still found himself unable to care. He waited all the way home, into the infirmary, and for John to be hooked up to tubes and wires that promised he was alive when there was no other reason to think so to take what they had said into consideration. Only then did Rodney talk, more because he would eventually have to all the same, and just wanted to get it over with.

“I ascended. Then... unascended.” He smiled tremulously. “I came back for him, because we don't leave people behind. Fat lot of good it did us, right?”

They had the decency not to perform tests; just gave him a bed, scrubs, food, space and silence.

The second they were gone, Rodney moved to the chair left at John's bedside. Sheppard looked more lifeless prone, and not even the machines made it possible to think otherwise.

“Did you catch all that, Sheppard?” McKay said. “John? I came back for you. And if I can do it, you can do it. So, you know, it's your turn now. And I'll be right here, waiting when you do.”

Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face resting in his cupped hands, Rodney waited.

The End

Comments

[cupidsbow.livejournal.com]

Oh, ouch! Stupid Ancients and their stupid irony.

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Dang straight. Thanks for reading.

[emeraldsword.livejournal.com]

eeek, really good but frankly rather depressing! I did enjoy it, I thought this worked really well and I've got my fingers crossed that John will wake himself up soon and things will be fine. Yes, fine *clings firmly to pathetic delusion*

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Yeah, it actually left me quite depressed after writing it.My only consolation is that, in my little world, John does wake up eventually. Although when he wakes up is a whole other matter.

[zinnith-nano.livejournal.com]

Ow. Just... ow.
John, will you wake up please?

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Yes, wake up John! Thanks for reading.

[em_kellesvig]

Sequel, sequel! Please? *whimpers*

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

*Hangs head in sorrow* No sequel. It would only end up being more depressing than this story (something along the lines of John waking up too many years later keeps tugging at my mind, but I refuse to write it as it will only make me cry). Leaving it open-ended like this allows for the possibility to imagine a happier ending. .

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Oh, that was painful. Lovely, and painful.

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

[ceitie.livejournal.com]

Oh, I love your icon! Where's the picture from?

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

It's one of ileliberte's illustrations, located here (http://ileliberte.livejournal.com/31874.html?style=mine#cutid1)

[ceitie.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[giusytriso.livejournal.com]

Oh this is so sad. But Rodney un-ascending to help John was really beautiful. That spokes volumes about their friendship. Great story.

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Thanks. It actually seems a very Rodney thing to do, and not just because it had been his plan in Tao of Rodney.

[sholio]

Ohhh! I really liked it, but -- so sad! I could so see Rodney doing something like that ... and Rodney's death being the thing that finally, truly broke Sheppard.

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

Thanks. But now I need to do a happy story. This one almost broke me.

[goddess47]

::sniffle:: Damn them Ancients anyways.... this is way too cruel to both of them... and I am imagining a happy ending.....

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

So am I.

[ceitie.livejournal.com]

This is just incredibly sad, Rodney just waiting; because after all, if he came back from the dead, then John can damn well come back from wherever he's gone.

[kriadydragon.livejournal.com]

That's the hope, and I like to think it the outcome.