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kathierif_ficTitle: Not What It Looks Like
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Stargate:Atlantis
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not…anything?
Summary: The first time, Rodney managed to tell himself that it was just a hallucination.
Word count: 1957 words
Challenge:cliché_bingo, prompt: Elves
Author’s Notes: I had about five half-finished attempts for this one lying around and picked the one that I was the least satisfied with…ah well.
~*+*~
The first time Rodney saw John change, they were on the run on another alien planet he couldn’t bother to remember the name of. They’d lost Ronon and Teyla in the scuffle that had broken out when the Wraith had appeared, and Rodney was bleeding from several deep wounds the stupid and panicking natives had inflicted on him. Only the fear of getting caught by the Wraith or the natives had kept him on his feet and running, even when black spots were dancing in front of his eyes and his lungs and legs burned.
When John, who had been a handful of steps ahead of him, suddenly had thrown his body around, while still running, and had growled at Rodney – or, to be more exact, at the Wraith that had suddenly and apparently out of nowhere appeared behind him – Rodney didn’t really have the time to process everything he saw. He just allowed his body to crash to the hard ground, his arms covering his head, to protect his precious brain, and he only caught a brief glimpse of sharp and pointy teeth and eyebrows drawn together until they formed a dark V while John jumped from where he was standing, over Rodney, to attack the Wraith in the kind of suicide move Rodney had grown to expect from John. It still made his breath catch in his throat every time he witnessed it, and bleeding to death did nothing to stop the stutter of his heart when John catapulted his body across the space that separated him from the Wraith.
By the time Rodney had managed to lift his head from the dust, the Wraith was dead, and John looked like he always did, apart from the gash in his cheek and the bright redness of blood that covered half of his face.
Rodney didn’t have the time to think about what he’d seen for much longer, because the loss of blood and the shock finally caught up with him and he lost consciousness.
He woke up on Atlantis, stitched up and wrapped in clean bandages, and by the time Carson had managed to convince him that he hadn’t suffered permanent damage, and that his team was fine, too, Rodney had already told himself firmly that he’d hallucinated.
There was nothing unusual about John, besides his martyr complex. And even that wasn’t unusual. It was just John.
When Carson finally released him, Rodney had already forgotten about his weird hallucinations. Too many other things were occupying his mind already.
The second time it happened, they were on Atlantis, racing through unused hallways while trying to find and disarm a bomb Genii-spies had managed to plant in the city. Rodney had trouble keeping up with John, but he was holding the scanner, glancing down every now and then to make sure that the corridors they were passing through were clear of suspicious technology.
Rodney was wheezing, and the sharp pain in his side almost sent him tumbling into the wall, when he looked up for a split second at John, who had stopped when Rodney had, and who had tilted his head to the side.
He was listening for something, Rodney realized as he struggled to bring his breathing back under control. John’s head turned questioningly, allowing Rodney to catch a glimpse of his ear – an ear that was growing in length in front of Rodney’s eyes.
Rodney gasped for air, when John suddenly tensed. “This way,” he said and took off, and Rodney quickly scrambled after him. A few feet down the corridor, the scanner in his hand beeped softly, indicating that it had detected Genii technology, and from there on, every tiny bit of Rodney’s brain capacity was occupied with disarming the bomb. He didn’t think of John’s weirdly transforming ears until later, when he was deadly exhausted and almost passed out on his bed, and by then, he was willing to blame the rush of adrenalin to his system for what he’d seen.
However, he didn’t forget it, and that was probably the only reason why he didn’t faint when he found himself caught in a cave, together with John and Carson, cut off from the rest of their away team (once again) and with a limited air supply, and suddenly, he was faced with a weirdly looking being that wore John’s uniform and had his hair.
A landslide had blocked the entry, and the rocks surrounding them interfered with their radio. They had no way of communicating with the others. And here he was, Rodney thought numbly while looking at the creature with the long, thin fingers and the unnaturally large, pointy ears that gently curved upwards, with no possible escape route.
If he thought it couldn’t get worse, he was mistaken. Carson groaned deep in his throat and struggled to sit up from where he’d ended up when he’d slid into the cave, both hands clutching at his leg. Before Rodney could move a single muscle, the thing John Sheppard had turned into had crossed the cave with two steps – more jumps than steps – and was kneeling down next to Carson. One long-fingered hand gently pressed against Carson’s leg, and Carson whimpered. “I think it’s broken.”
“It is,” John agreed. His voice sounded the same, and Rodney couldn’t hold back the small terrified squeak when those ears turned toward him and twitched slightly.
“Rodney…” Carson said, warningly, but he was injured and probably hallucinating from the shock and hadn’t even realized that John had been infiltrated by some alien creature that was slowly mutating his body into something else.
His fingers tightened on his gun. Before he would get infiltrated, or even worse, eaten by this alien, he would shoot it, even if it meant injuring John. John would be okay with that, Rodney was sure of that.
“Rodney,” the alien drawled – it sounded exactly like John, Rodney thought hysterically, but he couldn’t let that distract him. He needed to stop that thing.
He lifted his gun and pointed it at the alien, feeling proud that his hands almost didn’t tremble, at all. He felt suddenly very calm as he stared at the alien that took a small step toward him, his hands lifted.
But Rodney had seen what the alien had been capable of. Memories came rushing back, memories he’d pushed to the back of his mind or had disregarded as hallucinations.
“Now, don’t do anything you’ll regret later,” the alien said slowly. It started to sound pissed, just like John would if he was threatened by one of the people he considered friends.
“Nice,” Rodney asked, his voice squeaking. “How long have you been hiding in the Colonel, huh?”
The alien stopped and frowned. Its ears twitched, just like those of a cat, and Rodney clenched his teeth tightly.
“Rodney, did you hit your head?” it asked, confusion and worry in its voice, pushing away the annoyance. “Why don’t you sit down, buddy, and put down that gun?”
“John,” Carson called out weakly from behind the creature – didn’t he see that this wasn’t John? – “your image inducer must be broken. Rodney…please put the gun away, aye?”
The alien shook its head and reached up, into its hair. “Dammit,” it grumbled and tugged slightly at a small device that had been hidden there. “Must’ve been hit by…oh for…McKay!” He rolled his eyes and held the small, rectangular device out. “It’s me, John, okay?” he said in exasperation.
“Can you prove it?” Rodney asked, still suspicious.
The alien – John? – hissed at him angrily. “Rodney!”
“Okay, okay!” Rodney frowned. “So, you’re an alien?”
“I’m not – I’m an Elf.” John tugged on the tip of one ear. “We live on Earth, just like you humans, okay? We use image inducers to hide from you.” He tossed the little device in Rodney’s direction, and Rodney dropped his gun as he tried to catch it.
“This is Ancient technology,” he said after just one glance. “How does it work?”
“No idea, you’re the geek,” John said and went back to Carson’s side. “Can you fix it?”
Rodney spluttered when suddenly, a thought occurred to him. “You!” he shouted, pointing accusingly at Carson. “You know he’s a fairy!”
Carson nodded. “Aye,” he whispered. “I knew what John is.”
“Not a fairy,” John added indignant.
“Whatever.” Rodney’s attention was pulled back to the image inducer. “Wait a second,” he muttered and reached into one of his pockets. “I can fix this, of course I can, I’m the smartest guy in two galaxies…”
John shook his head slightly, but he kept his mouth shut and let Rodney work while hovering next to Carson, who was busy putting a make-shift splint and bandage on his broken leg.
Finally, John shifted. “The ground is moving,” he said. “Rodney, how much longer does that take?”
Rodney only looked up to give him an annoyed look before returning to the little device he’d taken apart and started to fix.
Finally, he grinned in triumph and handed it back to John. “Try it,” he said, pride shining in his eyes. “It should work now.”
John took it and hid it back in his hair – it reminded Rodney of Ronon and his knives, and for a moment, he wondered if John had taken the idea to hide his…image inducer on his head from Ronon and his knives.
John seemed to flicker for a split second, and when Rodney blinked, the other man looked like he always did.
“I have a million questions,” Rodney announced, and John chuckled.
“I bet you do,” he said dryly and stepped back up to Rodney. Reaching into one of his pockets, he added, “But, you know, never call an Elf a fairy. We don’t like that.”
“What? Have you seen yourself?” Rodney frowned confusedly, and John sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said –
- and tossed a handful of golden dust into Rodney’s face.
For a long moment after Rodney had lost consciousness, there was silence in the cave, and then Carson shifted and sneezed.
“Next time,” he said and rubbed his nose, “use less fairy dust, will you?”
John sighed. “I hope there’s no next time,” he said and ran a hand through his hair – careful not to dislodge the ancient technology hidden there. “I hope this was enough to make him forget everything that has happened here.”
He hadn’t wanted to do it, he thought while kneeling down next to Carson. The shifting of the ground had a definite direction, and his sensitive ears could pick out voices – Ronon, Lorne, those of a few Marines – and he knew that they would be dug out of this cave soon. He hadn’t wanted to influence Rodney’s memories, but he knew that he had to do it.
This was a secret that was not his to tell. He couldn’t risk the entire population just because he was friends with Rodney.
His personal feelings weren’t important here.
Carson sneezed again.
“What if he finds out again?” he asked. “You know that fairy dust doesn’t work twice on the same person.”
John just gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” he said confidently. “I’ll take care of it then.”
He was an Elf, after all. And elves were masters at arithmancy – divination with numbers.
And John already knew that the fairy dust wouldn’t work on Rodney, just as much as he knew that his friend would bitch at him for trying to kill him with magic for at least three days – and then, he would keep John’s secret until his death.
He didn’t need to worry. He also hadn’t needed to cover Rodney in fairy dust, but it was nice to have some quiet and not have to deal with Rodney’s questions right now…
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Stargate:Atlantis
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true, not…anything?
Summary: The first time, Rodney managed to tell himself that it was just a hallucination.
Word count: 1957 words
Challenge:cliché_bingo, prompt: Elves
Author’s Notes: I had about five half-finished attempts for this one lying around and picked the one that I was the least satisfied with…ah well.
~*+*~
The first time Rodney saw John change, they were on the run on another alien planet he couldn’t bother to remember the name of. They’d lost Ronon and Teyla in the scuffle that had broken out when the Wraith had appeared, and Rodney was bleeding from several deep wounds the stupid and panicking natives had inflicted on him. Only the fear of getting caught by the Wraith or the natives had kept him on his feet and running, even when black spots were dancing in front of his eyes and his lungs and legs burned.
When John, who had been a handful of steps ahead of him, suddenly had thrown his body around, while still running, and had growled at Rodney – or, to be more exact, at the Wraith that had suddenly and apparently out of nowhere appeared behind him – Rodney didn’t really have the time to process everything he saw. He just allowed his body to crash to the hard ground, his arms covering his head, to protect his precious brain, and he only caught a brief glimpse of sharp and pointy teeth and eyebrows drawn together until they formed a dark V while John jumped from where he was standing, over Rodney, to attack the Wraith in the kind of suicide move Rodney had grown to expect from John. It still made his breath catch in his throat every time he witnessed it, and bleeding to death did nothing to stop the stutter of his heart when John catapulted his body across the space that separated him from the Wraith.
By the time Rodney had managed to lift his head from the dust, the Wraith was dead, and John looked like he always did, apart from the gash in his cheek and the bright redness of blood that covered half of his face.
Rodney didn’t have the time to think about what he’d seen for much longer, because the loss of blood and the shock finally caught up with him and he lost consciousness.
He woke up on Atlantis, stitched up and wrapped in clean bandages, and by the time Carson had managed to convince him that he hadn’t suffered permanent damage, and that his team was fine, too, Rodney had already told himself firmly that he’d hallucinated.
There was nothing unusual about John, besides his martyr complex. And even that wasn’t unusual. It was just John.
When Carson finally released him, Rodney had already forgotten about his weird hallucinations. Too many other things were occupying his mind already.
The second time it happened, they were on Atlantis, racing through unused hallways while trying to find and disarm a bomb Genii-spies had managed to plant in the city. Rodney had trouble keeping up with John, but he was holding the scanner, glancing down every now and then to make sure that the corridors they were passing through were clear of suspicious technology.
Rodney was wheezing, and the sharp pain in his side almost sent him tumbling into the wall, when he looked up for a split second at John, who had stopped when Rodney had, and who had tilted his head to the side.
He was listening for something, Rodney realized as he struggled to bring his breathing back under control. John’s head turned questioningly, allowing Rodney to catch a glimpse of his ear – an ear that was growing in length in front of Rodney’s eyes.
Rodney gasped for air, when John suddenly tensed. “This way,” he said and took off, and Rodney quickly scrambled after him. A few feet down the corridor, the scanner in his hand beeped softly, indicating that it had detected Genii technology, and from there on, every tiny bit of Rodney’s brain capacity was occupied with disarming the bomb. He didn’t think of John’s weirdly transforming ears until later, when he was deadly exhausted and almost passed out on his bed, and by then, he was willing to blame the rush of adrenalin to his system for what he’d seen.
However, he didn’t forget it, and that was probably the only reason why he didn’t faint when he found himself caught in a cave, together with John and Carson, cut off from the rest of their away team (once again) and with a limited air supply, and suddenly, he was faced with a weirdly looking being that wore John’s uniform and had his hair.
A landslide had blocked the entry, and the rocks surrounding them interfered with their radio. They had no way of communicating with the others. And here he was, Rodney thought numbly while looking at the creature with the long, thin fingers and the unnaturally large, pointy ears that gently curved upwards, with no possible escape route.
If he thought it couldn’t get worse, he was mistaken. Carson groaned deep in his throat and struggled to sit up from where he’d ended up when he’d slid into the cave, both hands clutching at his leg. Before Rodney could move a single muscle, the thing John Sheppard had turned into had crossed the cave with two steps – more jumps than steps – and was kneeling down next to Carson. One long-fingered hand gently pressed against Carson’s leg, and Carson whimpered. “I think it’s broken.”
“It is,” John agreed. His voice sounded the same, and Rodney couldn’t hold back the small terrified squeak when those ears turned toward him and twitched slightly.
“Rodney…” Carson said, warningly, but he was injured and probably hallucinating from the shock and hadn’t even realized that John had been infiltrated by some alien creature that was slowly mutating his body into something else.
His fingers tightened on his gun. Before he would get infiltrated, or even worse, eaten by this alien, he would shoot it, even if it meant injuring John. John would be okay with that, Rodney was sure of that.
“Rodney,” the alien drawled – it sounded exactly like John, Rodney thought hysterically, but he couldn’t let that distract him. He needed to stop that thing.
He lifted his gun and pointed it at the alien, feeling proud that his hands almost didn’t tremble, at all. He felt suddenly very calm as he stared at the alien that took a small step toward him, his hands lifted.
But Rodney had seen what the alien had been capable of. Memories came rushing back, memories he’d pushed to the back of his mind or had disregarded as hallucinations.
“Now, don’t do anything you’ll regret later,” the alien said slowly. It started to sound pissed, just like John would if he was threatened by one of the people he considered friends.
“Nice,” Rodney asked, his voice squeaking. “How long have you been hiding in the Colonel, huh?”
The alien stopped and frowned. Its ears twitched, just like those of a cat, and Rodney clenched his teeth tightly.
“Rodney, did you hit your head?” it asked, confusion and worry in its voice, pushing away the annoyance. “Why don’t you sit down, buddy, and put down that gun?”
“John,” Carson called out weakly from behind the creature – didn’t he see that this wasn’t John? – “your image inducer must be broken. Rodney…please put the gun away, aye?”
The alien shook its head and reached up, into its hair. “Dammit,” it grumbled and tugged slightly at a small device that had been hidden there. “Must’ve been hit by…oh for…McKay!” He rolled his eyes and held the small, rectangular device out. “It’s me, John, okay?” he said in exasperation.
“Can you prove it?” Rodney asked, still suspicious.
The alien – John? – hissed at him angrily. “Rodney!”
“Okay, okay!” Rodney frowned. “So, you’re an alien?”
“I’m not – I’m an Elf.” John tugged on the tip of one ear. “We live on Earth, just like you humans, okay? We use image inducers to hide from you.” He tossed the little device in Rodney’s direction, and Rodney dropped his gun as he tried to catch it.
“This is Ancient technology,” he said after just one glance. “How does it work?”
“No idea, you’re the geek,” John said and went back to Carson’s side. “Can you fix it?”
Rodney spluttered when suddenly, a thought occurred to him. “You!” he shouted, pointing accusingly at Carson. “You know he’s a fairy!”
Carson nodded. “Aye,” he whispered. “I knew what John is.”
“Not a fairy,” John added indignant.
“Whatever.” Rodney’s attention was pulled back to the image inducer. “Wait a second,” he muttered and reached into one of his pockets. “I can fix this, of course I can, I’m the smartest guy in two galaxies…”
John shook his head slightly, but he kept his mouth shut and let Rodney work while hovering next to Carson, who was busy putting a make-shift splint and bandage on his broken leg.
Finally, John shifted. “The ground is moving,” he said. “Rodney, how much longer does that take?”
Rodney only looked up to give him an annoyed look before returning to the little device he’d taken apart and started to fix.
Finally, he grinned in triumph and handed it back to John. “Try it,” he said, pride shining in his eyes. “It should work now.”
John took it and hid it back in his hair – it reminded Rodney of Ronon and his knives, and for a moment, he wondered if John had taken the idea to hide his…image inducer on his head from Ronon and his knives.
John seemed to flicker for a split second, and when Rodney blinked, the other man looked like he always did.
“I have a million questions,” Rodney announced, and John chuckled.
“I bet you do,” he said dryly and stepped back up to Rodney. Reaching into one of his pockets, he added, “But, you know, never call an Elf a fairy. We don’t like that.”
“What? Have you seen yourself?” Rodney frowned confusedly, and John sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said –
- and tossed a handful of golden dust into Rodney’s face.
For a long moment after Rodney had lost consciousness, there was silence in the cave, and then Carson shifted and sneezed.
“Next time,” he said and rubbed his nose, “use less fairy dust, will you?”
John sighed. “I hope there’s no next time,” he said and ran a hand through his hair – careful not to dislodge the ancient technology hidden there. “I hope this was enough to make him forget everything that has happened here.”
He hadn’t wanted to do it, he thought while kneeling down next to Carson. The shifting of the ground had a definite direction, and his sensitive ears could pick out voices – Ronon, Lorne, those of a few Marines – and he knew that they would be dug out of this cave soon. He hadn’t wanted to influence Rodney’s memories, but he knew that he had to do it.
This was a secret that was not his to tell. He couldn’t risk the entire population just because he was friends with Rodney.
His personal feelings weren’t important here.
Carson sneezed again.
“What if he finds out again?” he asked. “You know that fairy dust doesn’t work twice on the same person.”
John just gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” he said confidently. “I’ll take care of it then.”
He was an Elf, after all. And elves were masters at arithmancy – divination with numbers.
And John already knew that the fairy dust wouldn’t work on Rodney, just as much as he knew that his friend would bitch at him for trying to kill him with magic for at least three days – and then, he would keep John’s secret until his death.
He didn’t need to worry. He also hadn’t needed to cover Rodney in fairy dust, but it was nice to have some quiet and not have to deal with Rodney’s questions right now…
~end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-31 11:02 pm (UTC)If I'd realized how much SGA you were going to write, I would've added an icon.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-08-31 11:06 pm (UTC)*hugs you tightly* you're right, there is a lot of SGA-fic...I didn't even realize it myself; you know, all I thought was "OMG all the RPF fic! *flails*"...and that's only what, 2 or 3 with both bingos?
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Date: 2009-08-31 11:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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