![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
silverspar.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficLENGTH/RATING: 275 words, PG
PAIRING: McKay/Sheppard-ish, Rodney/Katie
Rodney didn’t sleep. He spent his nights staring at the ceiling, counting architecturally-questionable protrusions until dawn. He abused coffee and energy drinks to get through the day. He ate poorly and rarely; whatever he tried to get down always disagreed with him. His stomach felt like it was made out of lead - his bones, spaghetti.
And whenever Rodney did drift off for a few minutes from pure exhaustion, Sheppard was always there, loitering around the edges of Rodney’s nightmares.
“Please leave me alone,” Rodney finally whispered, burying his face in his hands as tears leaked out, salty and burning.
“You made the right call Rodney,” Sheppard stated calmly.
“Don’t,” Rodney begged, trying to curl up into himself.
“Even if it hadn’t been her, you should have chosen anyone on this expedition over me. You know that.”
Rodney raised his head, laughing bitterly. “What I know is this: if it had been a split-second decision - if I hadn’t had that whole minute to think - I would have killed her and saved you.”
Sheppard seemed stunned.
“I would have let the woman I claim to love die . . . for you.”
Sheppard was almost squirming off the end of the bed with nervousness. He ran a hand through his ridiculous hair. “Look, Rodney.”
Rodney jumped to his feet, enraged. “No! You look. I did what I knew you wanted. You have no business haunting me until I feel better. I will NEVER feel better. I have to live with this for the rest of my life. You just have to . . . die with it.”
Sheppard swallowed hard and nodded mechanically, forever a soldier. “Okay.”
“John?”
But he was gone.
PAIRING: McKay/Sheppard-ish, Rodney/Katie
Rodney didn’t sleep. He spent his nights staring at the ceiling, counting architecturally-questionable protrusions until dawn. He abused coffee and energy drinks to get through the day. He ate poorly and rarely; whatever he tried to get down always disagreed with him. His stomach felt like it was made out of lead - his bones, spaghetti.
And whenever Rodney did drift off for a few minutes from pure exhaustion, Sheppard was always there, loitering around the edges of Rodney’s nightmares.
“Please leave me alone,” Rodney finally whispered, burying his face in his hands as tears leaked out, salty and burning.
“You made the right call Rodney,” Sheppard stated calmly.
“Don’t,” Rodney begged, trying to curl up into himself.
“Even if it hadn’t been her, you should have chosen anyone on this expedition over me. You know that.”
Rodney raised his head, laughing bitterly. “What I know is this: if it had been a split-second decision - if I hadn’t had that whole minute to think - I would have killed her and saved you.”
Sheppard seemed stunned.
“I would have let the woman I claim to love die . . . for you.”
Sheppard was almost squirming off the end of the bed with nervousness. He ran a hand through his ridiculous hair. “Look, Rodney.”
Rodney jumped to his feet, enraged. “No! You look. I did what I knew you wanted. You have no business haunting me until I feel better. I will NEVER feel better. I have to live with this for the rest of my life. You just have to . . . die with it.”
Sheppard swallowed hard and nodded mechanically, forever a soldier. “Okay.”
“John?”
But he was gone.