SGA FIC: The Price of Heroics
Feb. 8th, 2010 10:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_erikah_xTitle: The Price of Heroics
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_erikah_x
Rating: PG
Genre(s): hurt/comfort, friendship
Character(s): John Sheppard and Rodney McKay
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Author's Note: This was written tox_erikah_x in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sgahcchallenges comment fic exchange. Yep, that's right. I answered my own prompt.
Prompt: Friendship fic, Sheppard being shot by bad guys and Rodney caring for him.
THE PRICE OF HEROICS by ErikaHK
Rodney stared numbly at his hands, both of them shaky and bloody. He put them back on the rough fabric, applying pressure while he spat out useless words of comfort, whispering more to himself than to the person beneath his touch. He drifted on repeating instructions and reminding himself on the correct first aid protocols, all in a vain attempt to look like he was in control.
Control was as far away from reality than it could possibly be, but he clung to each word as if life depended on it.
Because life did depend on it. Sheppard’s life.
The words left his mouth and fell deaf in the dark night, the chilly wind carrying them away unheard. Sheppard lay limp against rock, snow and ice and Rodney could swear Sheppard’s lips were turning blue.
The wind moaned once more and flocks of snow started to fall, slowly coming to rest on Sheppard’s hair and eyelashes. Rodney cursed at the weather and reached for a field bandage inside his vest. He wrapped it around Sheppard’s midsection, tying a knot to keep the bundle of T-shirt in position to stop the bleeding.
Rodney blew hot air into his hands, rubbing them against his parka, red smears appearing everywhere he touched. He picked up his gloves and put them back on, his trembling limbs transforming the easy task into a challenge.
Closing his eyes and groaning with the effort, Rodney slid a hand under Sheppard’s armpits and raised him, using the rocky cliff as support. Rodney puffed and complained about overweight colonels, wishing he had paid attention at the rescue lessons so he could know how a fireman carry was done. He soon revised the thought, knowing he would probably not be able to stand Sheppard’s weight anyway.
He half stumbled as he dragged the unconscious body, Sheppard’s boots leaving two long tracks on the snow. Rodney raised his head and blinked a few times, trying to see where the hell he was supposed to go.
He saw nothing more than gray nothingness and swirling flocks, not even sure the direction the cliff followed. Summoning the remaining strength he had left, Rodney forced leg after leg, until they shook and hurt. He complained about cramps and busted backs, but kept going, promising to seek revenge and steal chocolate pudding for the rest of the year.
Sheppard didn’t awake and didn’t protest against Rodney’s price, so he took the opportunity to raise his requests to breakfast in bed and no away missions for a very long time. He took the silence as a sign that Sheppard agreed with all demands, so Rodney continued to snap out the price for each time his boot left a print on the snow and for each meter of track Sheppard left behind.
The list was a mile and a half long by the time Rodney saw a small dark smudge that grew bigger and bigger. Rodney dropped Sheppard gently to the floor and dialed the gate, his whisper of relief dying out behind as he stepped through.
End
Author:
x_erikah_x Rating: PG
Genre(s): hurt/comfort, friendship
Character(s): John Sheppard and Rodney McKay
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Author's Note: This was written to
x_erikah_x in the sgahcchallenges comment fic exchange. Yep, that's right. I answered my own prompt.Prompt: Friendship fic, Sheppard being shot by bad guys and Rodney caring for him.
Rodney stared numbly at his hands, both of them shaky and bloody. He put them back on the rough fabric, applying pressure while he spat out useless words of comfort, whispering more to himself than to the person beneath his touch. He drifted on repeating instructions and reminding himself on the correct first aid protocols, all in a vain attempt to look like he was in control.
Control was as far away from reality than it could possibly be, but he clung to each word as if life depended on it.
Because life did depend on it. Sheppard’s life.
The words left his mouth and fell deaf in the dark night, the chilly wind carrying them away unheard. Sheppard lay limp against rock, snow and ice and Rodney could swear Sheppard’s lips were turning blue.
The wind moaned once more and flocks of snow started to fall, slowly coming to rest on Sheppard’s hair and eyelashes. Rodney cursed at the weather and reached for a field bandage inside his vest. He wrapped it around Sheppard’s midsection, tying a knot to keep the bundle of T-shirt in position to stop the bleeding.
Rodney blew hot air into his hands, rubbing them against his parka, red smears appearing everywhere he touched. He picked up his gloves and put them back on, his trembling limbs transforming the easy task into a challenge.
Closing his eyes and groaning with the effort, Rodney slid a hand under Sheppard’s armpits and raised him, using the rocky cliff as support. Rodney puffed and complained about overweight colonels, wishing he had paid attention at the rescue lessons so he could know how a fireman carry was done. He soon revised the thought, knowing he would probably not be able to stand Sheppard’s weight anyway.
He half stumbled as he dragged the unconscious body, Sheppard’s boots leaving two long tracks on the snow. Rodney raised his head and blinked a few times, trying to see where the hell he was supposed to go.
He saw nothing more than gray nothingness and swirling flocks, not even sure the direction the cliff followed. Summoning the remaining strength he had left, Rodney forced leg after leg, until they shook and hurt. He complained about cramps and busted backs, but kept going, promising to seek revenge and steal chocolate pudding for the rest of the year.
Sheppard didn’t awake and didn’t protest against Rodney’s price, so he took the opportunity to raise his requests to breakfast in bed and no away missions for a very long time. He took the silence as a sign that Sheppard agreed with all demands, so Rodney continued to snap out the price for each time his boot left a print on the snow and for each meter of track Sheppard left behind.
The list was a mile and a half long by the time Rodney saw a small dark smudge that grew bigger and bigger. Rodney dropped Sheppard gently to the floor and dialed the gate, his whisper of relief dying out behind as he stepped through.
End
