[identity profile] holdur.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] sga_flashfic
Title: The Paul Simon Songbook (or Five of John’s Favorite Coping Mechanisms And Why He Doesn’t Need Them Anymore)
Author: [livejournal.com profile] holdur
Rating: PG
Length: about 1,000 words
Summary: The Wraith are coming. Every morning John checks the long range sensors and they are gathering on the edges, creeping in like they think no one will notice until it’s too late.

Notes: This story owes a lot to the music of Paul Simon. The title is his, as are all the section headings.



For Emily Wherever I May Find Her

John has dreams about monsters. During the day his skin warms to the sun, the air tastes of the sea spray and he never realizes he’s covered with salt until the fresh water of the shower washes it away. In the nights, he is running and dragging air into his lungs and every second that passes he steals away from death.

He has this dream often.


That’s Why God Made the Movies

The Wraith are coming. Every morning John checks the long range sensors and they are gathering on the edges, creeping in like they think no one will notice until it’s too late. John takes his team offworld back to back, bullies Carter into saying yes even when he knows she should be saying no, then ships himself out with every available team to fill in the inevitable downtime.

Every planet he visits, the natives attack. Clubs, arrows, guns, one planet even has a catapult—they all want John dead.

John kills them, every one. He shoots for heads and hearts when the others aim for feet or straight in the air, knowing the loud noise-- the show of force-- is all that is necessary. John isn’t taking that chance.

Lorne reports him to Carter and she bans him from gate travel. The others in the city watch him warily, edging away when he passes.

John sits up nights watching the ships on the sensors blink and shift. Not a threat, they say. Not yet.


Once Upon a Time There Was an Ocean

John doesn’t run away, not really. The jumper isn’t stolen, but he jams the radio and parks in a low orbit on the other side of the world where he can sit in silence. The sun flares and he stares into the reds and yellows and the deep, deep blue that never fails to pull at his chest and send him back to Earth, flying too close to the horizon.

The sun rises and sets. The light blazes into his eyes and he doesn’t think about the city waiting below him and the ships he can feel on all sides, trapping him in.

The sun rises and sets and it’s easier up here. He thinks about taking the jumper and running; finding every sunset on every planet and letting each one erase the Wraith and Atlantis and any responsibility he thinks he owes.

His radio crackles in his ear.

"Sheppard?" McKay’s voice breaks with static. Of course Rodney would get through the nonsense John’s been piping down to the city. He’s probably been tracking the jumper since it took off and making Chuck update him every ten minutes. Is the jumper still there? How many life signs? John doesn’t answer because he doesn’t have to. Rodney knows John can hear him.

"They’re coming."


Rene and Georgette Magritte and Their Dog After the War

They can sink the city, raise the shields, disappear under the cloak, but it’s not enough; it won’t last forever. John watches Carter, Zelenka and Rodney bounce ideas around a table like pingpong balls then escapes to the jumper bay where his only companions are the itch of the ships systems and a technician running maintenance. He drifts from one ship to another, feeling oddly cheerful.

He’s watching Sivik’s feet twitch from where he’s half buried in the guts of Jumper 3 when Carter announces the deadline to the whole city. Four days, she says and don’t panic and we’ll be fine. She doesn’t say that they don’t have a plan.

Sivik’s feet go still, then scramble as he hitches himself deeper into the ship and starts whistling a song that reminds John of being fifteen. Belatedly, John remembers that Sivik is one of Zelenka’s team; he already knows.

Barely controlled panic is stalking through the halls of the city. In the little bubble of Jumper 3, John and Sivik spend the day trading songs from the early 1980s, the only people who aren’t thinking about plans.


The Late Great Johnny Ace

Rodney builds five huge bombs and then it’s John’s job to make them work, so he tells Zelenka to bring them to the jumper bay and leaves before Rodney can figure it out. He doesn’t have time to be yelled at. He’s not going to die.

Instead, it’s Teyla who stops him in the hallway with Torren sitting on her hip.

"John," she says, "I would like Torren to know his namesake," and that’s just mean, hitting below the belt like that.

"He will," John says because he’s not going to die, then brushes past them both.

Zelenka doesn’t say a word to him, but he grabs his forearm hard before leaving, holding on like it’s saying everything for him. John tells him it isn’t a one way trip. The jumper door closes, sealing away the city and Zelenka’s worried face and Teyla and Torren holding each other in the hallway and Rodney far behind, just now making the connections. John turns off his radio.

He doesn’t think about dying because he’s not going to die. He slaves the four secondary jumpers to the primary and then takes off to knock on the doors of the hive ships, broadcasting messages of peace and neglecting to mention the bombs packed in the trunk.


Love in Hard Times

"Did you think sacrificing yourself would make things better?" Rodney demands. His voice hitches on the last word and he tightens his arms across his chest and presses his lips together. John wants to say yes, but there’s a plastic tube down his throat and in his mouth and the only noise he can make isn’t even his: the soft hiss as the machine pushes air into his lungs. On his right, Teyla is asleep on an empty bed, Ronon sprawled in a chair beside her. It’s Rodney’s turn to keep watch; it’s always Rodney’s turn when John wakes up.

"You don’t get off that easy," he says, "Idiot." Rodney’s still tight and unhappy, but it’s all right because John knows that insults are one of the ways Rodney communicates. Rodney says idiot and John hears we almost lost you.

This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

Stargate Atlantis Flashfiction

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
30      

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags