DRABBLE MEME
Nov. 16th, 2008 10:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_erikah_xGrab a dictionary. Open a random page, write a drabble around the first word that you read and post it in your journal.
My word was Marine.
Title: Comfort
Word Count: 399
Rating: PG-13
Genre: H/C, Angst, Drama
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Character: John Sheppard
Summary: John walked numbly through the aisle of the Atlantis infirmary.
Prompt word: Marine
COMFORT
John walked numbly through the aisle of the Atlantis infirmary. His vision blurred and grayed as he swayed, placing one foot in front of another. Dizziness made the room spin and the floor started to tilt sideways. He jumped when someone grabbed his arm and he turned, ready to punch the attacker away. He swallowed thickly as he saw a nurse holding him in place, probably keeping him from falling down. He grimaced, trying to clear his hazy head.
He looked down at himself wondering how he had suddenly ended up in the infirmary. His clothes were torn, dirty and covered in blood. Whether they were his or someone else's, he didn't know. Raising his hands, he noticed they were also covered in dry blood and shook badly. His legs weakened and nearly buckled, but the firm grip continued to hold him. She led him down the aisle and he simply obeyed, barely able keep standing.
He looked at the beds on both sides. Marines occupied all of them, dirty and bloody and in shock. Some filled the chairs in between the gurneys, in no better condition than the ones lying down. Crying and yelling came from every corner. The same haze and confusion could be seen in all of their eyes. A scream came from a bed near him and he turned towards it. A marine was strapped onto a bed desperately trying to crawl away from the doctors tending a deep bleeding wound to his gut. John stared in shock as the young Lieutenant weeped and cried out.
The hand gripping his arm pulled him away and he didn't have the physical or mental strength to resist. Another firm hand suddenly grasped his free arm and turned him. Another marine stared directly into his eyes, his face as dirty as everyone else's, but also wet from tears. Neither of them said a word. The marine simply stared, begging and desperate, and John stared back, confused and shocked. Finally, John found the strength to slur "I'm sorry," and the marine walked back to bed.
John knew that whatever had brought them all here, it had been his fault. He was the one responsible for those lives and he was the one supposed to be there comforting them. When the nurse looked at him, a sympathetic frown turning to a smile, he wondered who was there to comfort him.
Fin
My word was Marine.
Title: Comfort
Word Count: 399
Rating: PG-13
Genre: H/C, Angst, Drama
Disclaimer: Stargate belongs to Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc., no infringements of any rights is intended.
Character: John Sheppard
Summary: John walked numbly through the aisle of the Atlantis infirmary.
Prompt word: Marine
John walked numbly through the aisle of the Atlantis infirmary. His vision blurred and grayed as he swayed, placing one foot in front of another. Dizziness made the room spin and the floor started to tilt sideways. He jumped when someone grabbed his arm and he turned, ready to punch the attacker away. He swallowed thickly as he saw a nurse holding him in place, probably keeping him from falling down. He grimaced, trying to clear his hazy head.
He looked down at himself wondering how he had suddenly ended up in the infirmary. His clothes were torn, dirty and covered in blood. Whether they were his or someone else's, he didn't know. Raising his hands, he noticed they were also covered in dry blood and shook badly. His legs weakened and nearly buckled, but the firm grip continued to hold him. She led him down the aisle and he simply obeyed, barely able keep standing.
He looked at the beds on both sides. Marines occupied all of them, dirty and bloody and in shock. Some filled the chairs in between the gurneys, in no better condition than the ones lying down. Crying and yelling came from every corner. The same haze and confusion could be seen in all of their eyes. A scream came from a bed near him and he turned towards it. A marine was strapped onto a bed desperately trying to crawl away from the doctors tending a deep bleeding wound to his gut. John stared in shock as the young Lieutenant weeped and cried out.
The hand gripping his arm pulled him away and he didn't have the physical or mental strength to resist. Another firm hand suddenly grasped his free arm and turned him. Another marine stared directly into his eyes, his face as dirty as everyone else's, but also wet from tears. Neither of them said a word. The marine simply stared, begging and desperate, and John stared back, confused and shocked. Finally, John found the strength to slur "I'm sorry," and the marine walked back to bed.
John knew that whatever had brought them all here, it had been his fault. He was the one responsible for those lives and he was the one supposed to be there comforting them. When the nurse looked at him, a sympathetic frown turning to a smile, he wondered who was there to comfort him.
