sga_flashfic | Breathe by ErikaH (Amnesty 2007, 38 Minutes Challenge) (Reply)

BREATHE

By ErikaH

Title: Breathe

Words: 320

Rating: PG

Character: John Sheppard

Genre: Drama, angst

Disclaimer: Stargate, as you know, is not mine. I don’t have any profit of this (I don’t even have profit from my actual job).

Challenge: Amnesty 2007, 38 Minutes Challenge

Summary: John runs to save a young life.

A/N: I'll confess that I only wrote for this particualr challenge because it was the first one in the past challenges list. Yes, I'm lazy. Anyway, I found this interesting, so went ahead with it. And I passed one minute from the deadline. But only because my PC is slow (that's my excuse, you'd better accept it). This is an idea that popped into mind while I read about the challenge. I think I'm addicted to writting drama. For some reason I simply cannot write anything happy.

A/N No2: I wrote, edited, re-edited, read and re-read this in 38 minutes (or rather 39), so I'm very certain there are mistakes. I'm sorry. Just point them out when you see them.

* * *

John runs at the top of his lungs, never looking back. The noises he left behind are still too loud and the ‘gate, too far. The night sky lights up behind him with explosions and laser beams. The whining of a wraith dart passes and he knows another group of villagers were taken with it. Still, even with all the loud sounds, screaming and pleading, John can hear the faint sobs coming from his arms. He glances down at the little figure. She whimpers and cradles around his neck.

He’s mad. More than mad. He’s furious. No child should have to endure this. She is no more than five years old and is already stained with the mark the wraith leave all over Pegasus. Orphan. Dying in his embrace.

Another whining passes overhead and he changes his path once more, entering the heavy vegetation. The radio burns with activity in his ear, but he doesn’t listen to any of it. He doesn’t have the time to keep up with all the action. He trusts Lorne well enough to keep things in control while he runs back to the med team.

Brushes are smashed, branches are broken. His face is scratched and his lungs burn. Suddenly, all the sounds are too far away. The silence worries him. He quickens his pace.

“Lindara,” he calls apprehensively. No answer comes.

He shakes the little girl tenderly, and puts a hand behind her head when she doesn’t respond. Fury burns in his veins and he runs faster. At his current pace not even Ronon could catch him.

When he finally exits the heavier part of the forest he puts her down softly into the ground. The medics surround her. They ask him for space, but he can’t move. He stares at her closed eyes. Her wet face. Her white dress. And the huge red smear covering it. Waiting for her to draw breath again.

Fin