SGA FIC: The Plunge
Feb. 8th, 2010 10:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_erikah_xTitle: The Plunge
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_erikah_x
Rating: PG
Genre(s): team, hurt/comfort
Character(s): Team
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Author's Note: This was written tocoolbreeze1 in the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sgahcchallenges comment fic exchange.
Author's Note 2: This ended up being a very gratuitus bit of Shep whump. I hope you really didn't expect a plot. I tried hard, but the whump smiled a grin at me, then Shep started bleeding uncontrolably and I went all "shiny!" and forgot the plot. Sorry about that.
Prompt: A jumper crash into water - lake, river, ocean...
THE PLUNGE by ErikaHK
John gripped the controls, quirking the jumper left then right, hoping the sudden movements would lead the missiles away. He cursed when the two red dots continued to beep on the HUD, as alive as they ever were. He turned upwards, the blue hue of the darkened ocean replaced by gray clouds and patches of a starry sky. The proximity alarm slowed, but didn’t quiet down. He watched the pursuing objects stay behind on his scanners then promptly changed their course back at the jumper.
He twisted again, tracing a whirly path away from the surface then span around and began going downwards. The sound was still constant, an annoying buzz at times, then a distant shrill at another. He didn’t have time to curse under his breath when the alarm increased to nearly a blare and he had to cut to the left in a move that would have him and his team squashed by the G-force wasn’t for the inertial dampers.
He was vaguely aware of grunting and swearing behind him and at times felt Rodney move around abruptly, fingers flying on sensor readings and ship status. He was shouting something, probably at John, but he didn’t have the luxury to split his focus.
John twirled around one more time, catching a glimpse of the missiles’ metal casing passing ahead. They descended and brushed the surface of the ocean and John nearly exhaled a breath of relief but they rocked up again and turned around. John curved the ship up, barely missing them by mere inches. He looked up at the HUD and groaned when their dots started coming back towards them.
Rodney was frantic now, yelling words that usually spilled out in situations like this. John tuned him out and concentrated on flying the ship, trying to find the shore. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the display changed and zoomed out, showing the continent still a little far from their position.
John changed his direction, but soon had to reevaluate it and maneuver away, up, then down, then right, right again, left, right and up. He brought the map up again, trying to figure out what his new position was relative to the ground surface.
Damn. He had gone even farther away from it. He twisted the course, having to turn back out again, forced away by the missiles. Dammed things. Rodney was buzzing on his ears, complaining about the direction John was now heading, and John just wanted to have a second break to yell back that the rockets were not letting him really go to safely on a straight line.
He tried coaxing the drones to fire up, but the signal flashed again, reinforcing its earlier attempts to tell they had none anymore.
“Shut up, Rodney!” John yelled out loud, way louder he had intended, but the effect was nearly instantaneous.
He didn’t have time to contemplate on the silence as the alarms blared louder, screaming at his ears that only luck or some weird twist of fate would make the missiles stop chasing them. John contemplated on other alternatives, but only turn after turn presented itself to him.
That’s it! He widened his eyes and cursed at himself for being so damn slow to think up a solution. He eyed the HUD once more, studying the distance the rockets had on the jumper. He bit down his lips, whishing they hadn’t been so close. In a last attempt to evade them, John quirked up, up, up then looped around and started going down, slowing his descent and retracting the drive pods.
“Hold on!” he yelled at his team and, ignoring the fact that they were still going too fast, plunged the ship into the ocean.
The consequence of the dive in such an intense speed was instantaneous. At one second John was gripping the controls tightly and at the next the panel slammed right onto his head.
John slowly came back to awareness. First he felt his body sprawled on the controls, pieces shattered under his chest. Something was digging into his abdomen, making him moan as the pains started to register into his brain. His head felt incredibly heavy, and now that he was thinking about it, also felt sticky. He tried moving it with great effort, but hissed when it spiked with pain.
He fluttered his eyelids, willing them to open, but they stubbornly resisted him. He moaned again and thought he heard an echo which quickly turned into a gruff groan coming from behind. Ronon.
He concentrated on trying to move his lips to produce any sound that was different from groaning. He failed at first, but the panic of not hearing the rest of his team started to twist in his gut and gave him extra energy.
“Ro’ney…” His voice was a little more than a whisper. He breathed deep and tried again. “Teyla, Ronon?
More moaning started to reach his ears and John felt his heart rate slow down slightly.
“M’here,” came in Ronon’s voice.
John heard shifting and movement behind him and struggled to force his eyes open. A dark blur slowly revolved around his head and John fought back nausea, closing his eyes again.
“Teyla?” Ronon asked.
She winced and John heard scrapping that was soon replaced by groaning. The groaning, however, seemed graver than Teyla’s voice was able to produce and soon John placed it as being Rodney’s.
He breathed deep. At least his team was still with him. The extra boost gave him enough confidence to open his eyes again.
A faint artificial light came from the back and now John was able to distinguish shapes. They were blurry and doubled, dancing in front of him. John squeezed his eyes and had the same sight when he reopened them.
He breathed in through his nose to keep the nausea at bay but felt himself failing and let them slide close again.
“McKay, you okay?”
Rodney hissed and then came the distinct sound of skin hitting skin. “Keep you hand away.”
“John?”
He would have jumped at the gentle contact on his shoulder if he had any strength for that.
“T’yla… y’kay?” he managed to slur.
“Just a few bruises. Ronon has a black eye and a sore knee, but is otherwise okay. Rodney…” She sighed. “appears to have hit his head, but there is no obvious injury.”
“I’m in serious pain here!”
Rodney’s shout made John squeeze his eyes and groan as his head spiked with pain. He felt Teyla’s hand on his shoulders, pushing him away from the controls and back against his chair. John grunted and gritted his teeth at the reverberating pain the moving caused, wanting nothing more than to stay at the position he was in, but not having the energy to protest.
He slumped back and was held by her gentle hands that soon started to probe him. He started to move his hand to pat her away, but they were so uncoordinated he ended up hitting all over the panel, missing her by far. He flinched and cried out when she touched a tender spot on his abdomen and that’s when he felt the wet fabric of his shirt glued to his skin.
Slowly, her voice started to filter back through the rush in his ear, whispering words of comfort. He breathed fast, curling on himself, but without being able to stop, he started to slump forward. She held him and pushed him back on the seat.
“Shh, John, be still.”
He felt perspiration covering his forehead, and his body shaking all over.
“T’yla!” he cried out and flinched away from her touch.
“John,” her voice came waving. “I need to keep pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding,” she pleaded.
His breathing came faster as he tried to resist the pain on his abdomen. He squeezed his eyes when the pressure increased and bent back his back, gritting his teeth and groaning through them.
“I am sorry, John,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
John closed his hands to fists, letting them shake and reaching out to her arms. Rough hands held them back and crossed his chest to keep him immobile. John screamed by the pain ripping through his gut and banged his head back, sagging in relief when darkness engulfed him.
John woke up feeling cold. He tried to move his shaking body, but felt too weak to do so. His abdomen was killing him, feeling almost like his gut was being pulled out from inside him and ripped open. He felt his skin clammy and he shivered uncontrollably with the cold air around him.
He wanted to cry out, but only a faint whimper made past his lips. He turned his head around, hand closed to a fist slowly moving towards his body. Someone grabbed hold of it and squeezed.
“John, shhhh, it’s me, Teyla.”
He felt her hand behind his head, lifting slightly above the ground. He squeezed his eyes and shut his lips tight to keep the bile rising up his throat.
“Drink. It’s water.”
He tried sipping it, but more made it down his chin than into his mouth. Soon, his head was being lowered back and he let the pull of sleep take him to oblivion again.
++++++++++++
Faint whispering awoke John. He tried to focus around the words, but the fog covering his brain didn’t let him register what was being said. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and a louder whisper close to his head. He concentrated on the touch and tried to grasp the voice talking to him.
“Hey, Sheppard.”
Ronon.
“Sheppard. Open your eyes just a little bit, buddy.”
John tried to comply. His eyes fluttered but didn’t bulge.
“C’mon, you can do it.”
Darkness started to pull strings at him and John let them take him. Shaking brought him back to an agony of pain.
“C’mon, I won’t stop shaking until your eyes open a little bit.”
The shaking wasn’t rough. It was gentle, but enough to narrow his reality to red hot pain. John moaned his displeasure, hoping it would be enough to convince Ronon.
“John, c’mon, buddy.”
He just wanted to go back to sleep. The oblivion was so close to him. Warm. Numb. Too inviting. Soon, the shaking seemed distant and he let himself be enveloped.
+++++++++
The cold was unforgiving. It returned full force, the trembling all over his body making everything hurt. John was almost able to pry his eyes open, but something warm covered him. A soft voice insisted him to stay, but the tone was so soothing, it took John back under.
+++++++++
John whimpered and tried to curl on himself, but was prevented from doing so by hands holding his legs and arms. A different voice spoke above him, the tone calm and assuring. John felt himself float and found the strength to squeeze back at the hand that grasped his. There was some jostling around and his head spiked with pain, followed by his stomach. John tried to resist the pain, but the effort consumed the last drop of consciousness left in him.
+++++++++
The next time John woke up was to cotton everywhere. He felt fluffy underneath and cozy on top. His head was muffled by white fog and his mind barely registered the familiar air around him. He made no effort to move and slid back to sleep.
+++++++++
Soft chatting filtered through his sleepy brain and brought John back to awareness. John smiled at all the familiar voices and forced his eyes to flutter and open. The white blur soon settled into image and three faces stared at him. They smiled and approached his side.
“John, you are awake,” Teyla said as she touched his hand.
“Finally!”
Ronon growled at Rodney, but soon turned his gaze back at John. “Hey.”
John blinked slowly. “Wh’t h’ppen’d?”
Rodney crossed his arms. “You crashed us into the ocean, that’s what happened!”
John frowned. He didn’t remember crashing. He barely remembered flying the jumper. They had been trying to evade some missiles, then… a black canvas.
“How are you feeling?” Teyla asked.
“Mmmm, tired…” John let his eyelids droop.
John heard Rodney’s distant puff of indignation and smiled, going back to sleep. He was safe. His team was safe. Nothing else mattered. He could have the answers later.
End
Author:
x_erikah_x Rating: PG
Genre(s): team, hurt/comfort
Character(s): Team
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Author's Note: This was written to
coolbreeze1 in the sgahcchallenges comment fic exchange. Author's Note 2: This ended up being a very gratuitus bit of Shep whump. I hope you really didn't expect a plot. I tried hard, but the whump smiled a grin at me, then Shep started bleeding uncontrolably and I went all "shiny!" and forgot the plot. Sorry about that.
Prompt: A jumper crash into water - lake, river, ocean...
John gripped the controls, quirking the jumper left then right, hoping the sudden movements would lead the missiles away. He cursed when the two red dots continued to beep on the HUD, as alive as they ever were. He turned upwards, the blue hue of the darkened ocean replaced by gray clouds and patches of a starry sky. The proximity alarm slowed, but didn’t quiet down. He watched the pursuing objects stay behind on his scanners then promptly changed their course back at the jumper.
He twisted again, tracing a whirly path away from the surface then span around and began going downwards. The sound was still constant, an annoying buzz at times, then a distant shrill at another. He didn’t have time to curse under his breath when the alarm increased to nearly a blare and he had to cut to the left in a move that would have him and his team squashed by the G-force wasn’t for the inertial dampers.
He was vaguely aware of grunting and swearing behind him and at times felt Rodney move around abruptly, fingers flying on sensor readings and ship status. He was shouting something, probably at John, but he didn’t have the luxury to split his focus.
John twirled around one more time, catching a glimpse of the missiles’ metal casing passing ahead. They descended and brushed the surface of the ocean and John nearly exhaled a breath of relief but they rocked up again and turned around. John curved the ship up, barely missing them by mere inches. He looked up at the HUD and groaned when their dots started coming back towards them.
Rodney was frantic now, yelling words that usually spilled out in situations like this. John tuned him out and concentrated on flying the ship, trying to find the shore. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the display changed and zoomed out, showing the continent still a little far from their position.
John changed his direction, but soon had to reevaluate it and maneuver away, up, then down, then right, right again, left, right and up. He brought the map up again, trying to figure out what his new position was relative to the ground surface.
Damn. He had gone even farther away from it. He twisted the course, having to turn back out again, forced away by the missiles. Dammed things. Rodney was buzzing on his ears, complaining about the direction John was now heading, and John just wanted to have a second break to yell back that the rockets were not letting him really go to safely on a straight line.
He tried coaxing the drones to fire up, but the signal flashed again, reinforcing its earlier attempts to tell they had none anymore.
“Shut up, Rodney!” John yelled out loud, way louder he had intended, but the effect was nearly instantaneous.
He didn’t have time to contemplate on the silence as the alarms blared louder, screaming at his ears that only luck or some weird twist of fate would make the missiles stop chasing them. John contemplated on other alternatives, but only turn after turn presented itself to him.
That’s it! He widened his eyes and cursed at himself for being so damn slow to think up a solution. He eyed the HUD once more, studying the distance the rockets had on the jumper. He bit down his lips, whishing they hadn’t been so close. In a last attempt to evade them, John quirked up, up, up then looped around and started going down, slowing his descent and retracting the drive pods.
“Hold on!” he yelled at his team and, ignoring the fact that they were still going too fast, plunged the ship into the ocean.
The consequence of the dive in such an intense speed was instantaneous. At one second John was gripping the controls tightly and at the next the panel slammed right onto his head.
John slowly came back to awareness. First he felt his body sprawled on the controls, pieces shattered under his chest. Something was digging into his abdomen, making him moan as the pains started to register into his brain. His head felt incredibly heavy, and now that he was thinking about it, also felt sticky. He tried moving it with great effort, but hissed when it spiked with pain.
He fluttered his eyelids, willing them to open, but they stubbornly resisted him. He moaned again and thought he heard an echo which quickly turned into a gruff groan coming from behind. Ronon.
He concentrated on trying to move his lips to produce any sound that was different from groaning. He failed at first, but the panic of not hearing the rest of his team started to twist in his gut and gave him extra energy.
“Ro’ney…” His voice was a little more than a whisper. He breathed deep and tried again. “Teyla, Ronon?
More moaning started to reach his ears and John felt his heart rate slow down slightly.
“M’here,” came in Ronon’s voice.
John heard shifting and movement behind him and struggled to force his eyes open. A dark blur slowly revolved around his head and John fought back nausea, closing his eyes again.
“Teyla?” Ronon asked.
She winced and John heard scrapping that was soon replaced by groaning. The groaning, however, seemed graver than Teyla’s voice was able to produce and soon John placed it as being Rodney’s.
He breathed deep. At least his team was still with him. The extra boost gave him enough confidence to open his eyes again.
A faint artificial light came from the back and now John was able to distinguish shapes. They were blurry and doubled, dancing in front of him. John squeezed his eyes and had the same sight when he reopened them.
He breathed in through his nose to keep the nausea at bay but felt himself failing and let them slide close again.
“McKay, you okay?”
Rodney hissed and then came the distinct sound of skin hitting skin. “Keep you hand away.”
“John?”
He would have jumped at the gentle contact on his shoulder if he had any strength for that.
“T’yla… y’kay?” he managed to slur.
“Just a few bruises. Ronon has a black eye and a sore knee, but is otherwise okay. Rodney…” She sighed. “appears to have hit his head, but there is no obvious injury.”
“I’m in serious pain here!”
Rodney’s shout made John squeeze his eyes and groan as his head spiked with pain. He felt Teyla’s hand on his shoulders, pushing him away from the controls and back against his chair. John grunted and gritted his teeth at the reverberating pain the moving caused, wanting nothing more than to stay at the position he was in, but not having the energy to protest.
He slumped back and was held by her gentle hands that soon started to probe him. He started to move his hand to pat her away, but they were so uncoordinated he ended up hitting all over the panel, missing her by far. He flinched and cried out when she touched a tender spot on his abdomen and that’s when he felt the wet fabric of his shirt glued to his skin.
Slowly, her voice started to filter back through the rush in his ear, whispering words of comfort. He breathed fast, curling on himself, but without being able to stop, he started to slump forward. She held him and pushed him back on the seat.
“Shh, John, be still.”
He felt perspiration covering his forehead, and his body shaking all over.
“T’yla!” he cried out and flinched away from her touch.
“John,” her voice came waving. “I need to keep pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding,” she pleaded.
His breathing came faster as he tried to resist the pain on his abdomen. He squeezed his eyes when the pressure increased and bent back his back, gritting his teeth and groaning through them.
“I am sorry, John,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
John closed his hands to fists, letting them shake and reaching out to her arms. Rough hands held them back and crossed his chest to keep him immobile. John screamed by the pain ripping through his gut and banged his head back, sagging in relief when darkness engulfed him.
John woke up feeling cold. He tried to move his shaking body, but felt too weak to do so. His abdomen was killing him, feeling almost like his gut was being pulled out from inside him and ripped open. He felt his skin clammy and he shivered uncontrollably with the cold air around him.
He wanted to cry out, but only a faint whimper made past his lips. He turned his head around, hand closed to a fist slowly moving towards his body. Someone grabbed hold of it and squeezed.
“John, shhhh, it’s me, Teyla.”
He felt her hand behind his head, lifting slightly above the ground. He squeezed his eyes and shut his lips tight to keep the bile rising up his throat.
“Drink. It’s water.”
He tried sipping it, but more made it down his chin than into his mouth. Soon, his head was being lowered back and he let the pull of sleep take him to oblivion again.
++++++++++++
Faint whispering awoke John. He tried to focus around the words, but the fog covering his brain didn’t let him register what was being said. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and a louder whisper close to his head. He concentrated on the touch and tried to grasp the voice talking to him.
“Hey, Sheppard.”
Ronon.
“Sheppard. Open your eyes just a little bit, buddy.”
John tried to comply. His eyes fluttered but didn’t bulge.
“C’mon, you can do it.”
Darkness started to pull strings at him and John let them take him. Shaking brought him back to an agony of pain.
“C’mon, I won’t stop shaking until your eyes open a little bit.”
The shaking wasn’t rough. It was gentle, but enough to narrow his reality to red hot pain. John moaned his displeasure, hoping it would be enough to convince Ronon.
“John, c’mon, buddy.”
He just wanted to go back to sleep. The oblivion was so close to him. Warm. Numb. Too inviting. Soon, the shaking seemed distant and he let himself be enveloped.
+++++++++
The cold was unforgiving. It returned full force, the trembling all over his body making everything hurt. John was almost able to pry his eyes open, but something warm covered him. A soft voice insisted him to stay, but the tone was so soothing, it took John back under.
+++++++++
John whimpered and tried to curl on himself, but was prevented from doing so by hands holding his legs and arms. A different voice spoke above him, the tone calm and assuring. John felt himself float and found the strength to squeeze back at the hand that grasped his. There was some jostling around and his head spiked with pain, followed by his stomach. John tried to resist the pain, but the effort consumed the last drop of consciousness left in him.
+++++++++
The next time John woke up was to cotton everywhere. He felt fluffy underneath and cozy on top. His head was muffled by white fog and his mind barely registered the familiar air around him. He made no effort to move and slid back to sleep.
+++++++++
Soft chatting filtered through his sleepy brain and brought John back to awareness. John smiled at all the familiar voices and forced his eyes to flutter and open. The white blur soon settled into image and three faces stared at him. They smiled and approached his side.
“John, you are awake,” Teyla said as she touched his hand.
“Finally!”
Ronon growled at Rodney, but soon turned his gaze back at John. “Hey.”
John blinked slowly. “Wh’t h’ppen’d?”
Rodney crossed his arms. “You crashed us into the ocean, that’s what happened!”
John frowned. He didn’t remember crashing. He barely remembered flying the jumper. They had been trying to evade some missiles, then… a black canvas.
“How are you feeling?” Teyla asked.
“Mmmm, tired…” John let his eyelids droop.
John heard Rodney’s distant puff of indignation and smiled, going back to sleep. He was safe. His team was safe. Nothing else mattered. He could have the answers later.
End
