New FIc: You Can Call Me John

[chaps1870]

Title: You Can Call Me John
Author: Chaps1870
Rating: G
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 605

This is for

fics4books for winter_elfwho asked for John/Rodney first time along with other possiblities. I hope I hit something that works for her. A big thanks to misty4me for the speedy beta job.

 

 

John knew he was down and the searing pain in his side let him know he’d fucked up.  The sound of gunfire was still all around him and he tried to get up, tried to help his teammates but he couldn’t move. The pain and weight of his own body kept him pinned, unable to move, but it didn’t stop him from trying.  Even in pain, he couldn’t stop the need to protect and defend his team. 

 

 

 

Opening his eyes, the blue sky was suddenly obscured by a dark fuzziness. Blinking several times brought the fuzz into focus and he found Rodney’s panicked face staring down at him.

 

 

 

Rodney was fumbling with the pockets on his tac vest even as his eyes darted wildly around them. John tried one more time to sit up. The pain took his breath away, leaving him gasping in agony.

 

 

 

“Stop moving. You’ve been shot you idiot,” hissed Rodney.  A hand on his shoulder pushed him further into the soft dirt beneath him and the darkness overtook the pain.  

 

 

 

He had no idea how long he was out, but the forest was eerily quiet the next time he woke and the pain was down to a dull throb. His body felt heavy and sluggish but it paled to the lulling draw of fingers in his hair, caressing his head, slow and lazy. Comforting.

 

 

 

A quiet voice cut through the hazy silence bringing him back slowly. “Don’t you die on me. I can’t do this if you die, John.”

 

 

 

Rodney. He liked Rodney. He liked when he called him John. Although he couldn’t really admit that out loud. He had to keep it all buried inside so no one would ask. It had taken over three years for Rodney to feel comfortable enough to call him John and even now, every time, it still made John warm inside.

 

 

 

Not like when Carter called him John. He always cringed inwardly when she used his name. It was like they were friends when they really weren’t. He didn’t hate her but she wasn’t Rodney or Teyla or Ronon or any of the others that had earned the right to call him John. They were family, those he’d stood beside through the worst of it. The same ones who had stood by him, cared for him.

 

 

 

 “Shh, I’ll take care of you.” Fingers gently carded through his hair, soothing.

 

 

 

He was obviously more fucked up than he thought if he’d said all that out loud. Had to be the drugs, but he couldn’t really work up enough concern to worry about what he’d said. Instead he relaxed further into Rodney’s touch, letting himself drift in the pleasant haze. Rodney would take care of him. Make sure he got home. He mumbled sleepily, “S’nice.”

 

 

 

“Yeah, that’s the drugs, just don’t move anymore. The whole bleeding out thing is a little problematic at the moment and I really don’t want to go through that again. Teyla and Ronon will be back soon with help.”  Rodney’s hand lingered, caressing his face before returning to his hair.

 

 

 

“Hurts,” he said, twisting a bit to relieve some of the discomfort. It wasn’t the all encompassing pain like earlier but it was still there, still nagging the back of his brain.

 

 

 

“Please, don’t move, John” begged Rodney, the fingers in his hair tightening.

 

 

 

It was all there in the way Rodney said his name, it always was. The concern and worry laced with affection. It was there, even though they couldn’t say it. Couldn’t put it into words or let anyone see it. But it was there just the same.  

 

 

 

 

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