wesleysgirl

wesleysgirl

So I guess there's not going to be much in the way of ficlets. It's not happening. Sorry about that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

aimeelicious

*love*

From:

wesleysgirl.livejournal.com

Thank you. *Hugs and loves*

From:

entrenous88.livejournal.com

Don't worry! I hope your day is improving. *hugs*

From:

wesleysgirl.livejournal.com

Today was better. :-) Thank you.

From:

margarks.livejournal.com

everything okay? *hugs*

From:

wesleysgirl.livejournal.com

Mostly, yes. Today was better. Thank you! :-) *Hugs*

From:

ladycat777.livejournal.com

"Deep breaths, McKay."

"Yes, yes, because that's possibly the most annoying, useless thing you could ever say at a time like this and -- "

John's hand over his mouth cut off the rest of the words ready to bubble over and out. He left it there, using the slow glide of his thumb up Rodney's cheek, the pad resting awkwardly against the curve of Rodney's nose, to gauge the frantic way Rodney breathed -- too fast, too shallow for panting, like his lungs weren't taking in enough air, working triple time to compensate for their own unending mistakes -- and the equally frantic pulse of his heart, banging so hard John could feel it far away from a pulse-point, echoing and reflecting, growing until all of Rodney was one desperate, despairing pulse, hammering away.

Releasing his mouth, John curved his hand to the back of Rodney's neck, smoothing away the clammy sweat there with his own skin. "You can do this, Rodney, deep breaths."

"Oh, yes, because Lamaze is going to help me!"

It might, actually, but without the familiar, hovering presence of Carson and his stash of drugs, John didn't know what else to do. Rodney was practically vibrating from tension, a sullen ball of jumbled up worries he couldn't separate or deal with. John kneaded the tense, probably aching muscles under his fingers; the tendons were stretched so tightly they nearly twanged at the pressure, and didn't loosen even a little.

"C'mon, McKay," he tried again. Carefully, ignoring Rodney's shrill objections, John got them both on the bed, Rodney's back pressed warm and snug up against his chest, his hands busy. He doubted Rodney could really feel what he was doing, and when he did it didn't seem to be a pleasant sensation -- his nerves were too jangled for the slow, steady glide of John's palm up his arm to feel good. Goose bumps sprouted up in his wake, a shivering rejection.

John knew better than to take it personally, but it was still hard.

"I hate this," Rodney said, voice quavering, face hidden. He turned abruptly, burying his head into John's neck, clinging with more strength than his confused, shaking body seemed to possess. "I hate this, I hate it."

From:

ladycat777.livejournal.com

"I know," John soothed. It was easier with Rodney's shirt as a barrier, the long, slow sweeps eventually having an effect, the purposefully steady beat of John's heart -- he'd never been one for yoga or meditation but he'd trained himself early how to mimic someone in deep sleep, so this wasn't much different -- catching Rodney's own and bringing him down to something a little less panic-inducing. "I know. It's okay, Rodney."

It wasn't okay, though, not really. John had no idea what'd set this off; Rodney had no idea what had set it off, and that was scarier still since Rodney had an answer for everything. But not know, not here, and it was John who had to come up with the answers. So he petted and stroked, holding Rodney as delicately as he'd hold his niece, three years old and fragile as china the first and only time John'd met her, like the big, solid body that shoved hard against his own would shatter if he pressed too hard.

Long minutes stretched and wound their way around the both of them. John ignored it, focused entirely on the man he couldn't let go of, not even when Rodney finally began panting for real, body limp and loose as whatever had hold of him let go, leaving him grumpy and exhausted, fighting irritably against John's hold. "No," John told him, mouth against the sweaty skin of Rodney's temple, his hair, the hard curve of his forehead, slick and shiny from sweat. "No, just stay."

"I'm cramping," Rodney complained, but settled with a sigh when John got them on their sides. "I'm -- I'm okay now."

"You were okay before too," John said. He didn't understand why he said it so forcefully, but didn't want to take it back, either. "Just -- just stay, all right?"

"You know, you aren't the one who's supposed to be freaked out by this." But Rodney wasn't fighting anymore, was letting his exhausted body burrow even closer against John's, taking the loose and lazy attitude John held onto like a shield, appropriating it. John let it go with a prayer of thanks, because of all the things he'd seen of Rodney, this scared him most of all.

"I got you," John said, serious and sure. "I got you."

Rodney's mouth was wet and rough against John's neck, uncomfortable raw, but John still read the I know Rodney pressed there, and tightened his arms, just in case. It'd happen again, it wasn't the kind of thing that ever really went away, and every time John would be there to shoulder the burden, to hold onto Rodney while his body did what it wished without any input from his brain.

He'd be there, and want to be there, and he hoped like hell Rodney knew what that meant because he wasn't sure how to translate that into anything like words.

"It's okay," Rodney said again, sleep-thick and dazed, and John closed his eyes and believed him.

From:

wesleysgirl.livejournal.com

Thank you.

I love you.

From:

margarks.livejournal.com

awww! that was lovely and so tangible. nicely done, sweetie! *hugs*

From:

raiining.livejournal.com

Oh, so good! Got to it from Wesleygirl's recs. Loved it! Practically *no* idea whats going on (allergic reaction? something else?) but that doesn't matter - the reactions are what's important. John's so good. :)