Fic: Past the Last Exit
Nov. 11th, 2011 02:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: Past the Last Exit
Series: The Goddamned Genderswap
Summary: "You wanna know what I did to the last guy who laid a finger on my girlfriend?"
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 1492
Rating/Contents: R, episode tag for 3x03 (Irresistible), off-screen character death, mentions of (attempted) rape, self-esteem issues
Pairing: John/Mer
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: So I have aaaaall this John/Mer stuff that I wrote back when I first started this series, and I am polishing it up and getting it off my couch. This is probably the second darkest thing from it, which means it is dark dark dark (I mean, ffs, the other one has enzyme sex dubcon). But, I mean, it is from that episode, and it was written by someone who's not a complete a-hole (I hope), so what can you do.
John has had better days.
On the grand scale of Pegasus that John has developed, having Atlantis taken over is pretty awful, but getting taken over by some schmuck with a magic herb and a penchant for polygamy knocks it down a little.
That doesn't mean that John is the least bit pleased about it.
The jumper ride back to Lucius's planet is pretty much unbearable, because, like always, all John can think about is Meredith, the way he abandoned her without thinking about it, the way she looked at Lucius when she had that poison in her. There's nothing but rage in the pit of his stomach; he can't direct it at Ronon, for holding her down while Lucius infected her; he can't direct it at Mer, who tried so hard to stop it from happening.
But he doesn't have to worry about that, not when he's got the perfect target right here.
"Cait," John says, putting the jumper on autopilot, turning in his chair and looking dead at Lucius. "You're gonna want to go to the back of the jumper for a minute."
"Of course, Colonel," the doctor says quickly, doing it without even asking; John's pretty sure she already knows what's coming.
"We're gonna have a little chat," John says, his voice dangerously level and even, "about Doctor McKay."
"She would have made a good wife," Lucius muses. "She was very helpful with all the science things."
"One little problem with that," John says. "She just so happens to belong to me." He leans forward. "And you wanna know what I did to the last guy who laid a finger on my girlfriend?"
"Is it a happy story?" he says, with that same stupidly cheerful face he likes to wear so much. "I like happy stories."
"Not really, no. You probably know it already though," John says, with a mirthless laugh. "His name was Kolya."
Lucius sucks in a breath, panic in his eyes. "Look, honestly, I swear on my life that I didn't touch Doctor McKay," he babbles, looking terrified. "Not that she's not a healthy girl or anything- it's just that she's a little more woman than I can handle, if you follow me." He stops. "This really isn't helping, is it?"
"Not so much." He leans in further, right in Lucius's face, close enough for Lucius to feel his breath. "The only reason I didn't kill you is that there are other people who deserve to do the honors a whole hell of a lot more than I do." His face goes dark. "If I ever see you again, if I ever hear about you, then I will kill you. Don't think for an instant I won't."
Lucius swallows hard, and John leans back, giving Lucius his best and most dangerous smile. "You're welcome to come back, Cait," he says. "We're done here."
--
There's a little bit of the herb left in the lab, and John takes great pleasure in destroying it; he was kind of sure that Mer or one of the other scientists was going to want to save it and analyze it, but there's no one there when John goes.
In fact, he can't find Mer at all. People are getting the city back together, tossing badly-constructed gourd lamps into the ocean and whatnot as they all avoid each others' eyes out of embarrassment, but Mer's not among them.
She's not in the mess or any of the other labs or the reading room or the control tower, so John tries her room, even though she's rarely there during the day. The door's locked, which it never is; it's programmed to let John in, but nothing happens when he tries.
That's never happened before.
He bangs on the door, calling for her, but there's no answer, and by now he's freaking out a little. He digs in his pocket; his pocket knife isn't ideal for prying off the control panel for her door, and it's entirely likely that's she's going to regret having taught him how to hotwire it, but finally the door hisses open.
It's dark, and John is afraid for a moment that he's an idiot who's just wasted half an hour trying to get into an empty room.
"Go away," Meredith says coldly as John steps inside; he can just see her in silhouette in the light of her laptop.
He waves the door shut; something tells him it'd be a critical error to do what she says. "Mer," he says, walking towards her. "I couldn't find you."
"I'm doing something important, and you're interrupting," she snaps, but when John walks around behind her, all she's got open is a blank Excel file. "Get out."
"Mer," he says softly, sliding his hands onto her shoulders. He can feel how her chest is moving up and down, like she's panting, maybe, starting to hyperventilate. "What's wrong?"
John winces as the laptop hits the floor, but Meredith doesn't even seem to notice. She stands up, whirling around to face him; even in the dark he can see that she's been crying. "What the fuck do you think is wrong?"
"He's gone," he says carefully, holding up his hands, trying not to upset her even worse than she is now. "Nobody's infected anymore. It's going to be okay."
"That's all you have to say to me?" she says, and her voice is just one notch below hysterical. "It's already not fucking okay, Colonel." John's thrown off, shrinking back a little when she snaps his title at him; she hasn't even done that in years, and never like this.
"Do you want to know what I did?" she says, panting heavily, like she's just barely keeping it together. "Do you want to know what I told him I'd do?" Her hands ball into fists; John can see the exact moment when she snaps, but he can't do anything about it.
"I threw myself at him and he didn't even want me," Meredith screams. "I wasn't even good enough to get raped, John."
There is nothing, absolutely nothing John can say in response to that. His stomach churns at the thought of it, of what happened, of what could have happened, but that's not even the worst part. There are dark places in her past where he doesn't go, where she won't let him; and if this is what brings her back to them, If this is where her brain goes off to, if this is how she reacts, if this is how she thinks of herself, John doesn't ever want to know what they are.
If that makes him a bad person, it's still better than knowing.
"He's dead," John says, because he doesn't know what else he can tell her. "The villagers-" He sighs. "I'm not going to say that I didn't help. No one knows but me and Cait. It was- it was simpler that way."
Mer lets out a shuddering breath. "Only you would pick murder over paperwork," she says, and it's really not funny at all, not with everything they've been through, but at least she's stepped down from hysteria into sarcasm.
She's calmed down enough that John risks stepping towards her, putting his arms around her carefully. "It's not alright, but I promise you it will be.You didn't deserve to go through that at all. I'm never going to fuck up like that again, not if I can possibly help it."
She sighs, clinging to him for dear life. "You fucking better not," she says. "Because you know I could make sure they never found your body."
He kisses the top of her head. "It's not like you don't remind me twice a week."
She snorts weakly in amusement; it comes out kind of wrong, because that's when she starts sobbing into his shirt.
John still feels completely helpless, but at least he has a better idea of what he's expected to do; he gently maneuvers her into her bed, trying his best not to let her go for more than he possibly has to. She curls up, and he fits himself in behind her, stroking her hair, whispering soft, meaningless things until she cries herself to sleep.
His heart aches, but there's nothing to do but hold her tighter, never let her go.
Series: The Goddamned Genderswap
Summary: "You wanna know what I did to the last guy who laid a finger on my girlfriend?"
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 1492
Rating/Contents: R, episode tag for 3x03 (Irresistible), off-screen character death, mentions of (attempted) rape, self-esteem issues
Pairing: John/Mer
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: So I have aaaaall this John/Mer stuff that I wrote back when I first started this series, and I am polishing it up and getting it off my couch. This is probably the second darkest thing from it, which means it is dark dark dark (I mean, ffs, the other one has enzyme sex dubcon). But, I mean, it is from that episode, and it was written by someone who's not a complete a-hole (I hope), so what can you do.
John has had better days.
On the grand scale of Pegasus that John has developed, having Atlantis taken over is pretty awful, but getting taken over by some schmuck with a magic herb and a penchant for polygamy knocks it down a little.
That doesn't mean that John is the least bit pleased about it.
The jumper ride back to Lucius's planet is pretty much unbearable, because, like always, all John can think about is Meredith, the way he abandoned her without thinking about it, the way she looked at Lucius when she had that poison in her. There's nothing but rage in the pit of his stomach; he can't direct it at Ronon, for holding her down while Lucius infected her; he can't direct it at Mer, who tried so hard to stop it from happening.
But he doesn't have to worry about that, not when he's got the perfect target right here.
"Cait," John says, putting the jumper on autopilot, turning in his chair and looking dead at Lucius. "You're gonna want to go to the back of the jumper for a minute."
"Of course, Colonel," the doctor says quickly, doing it without even asking; John's pretty sure she already knows what's coming.
"We're gonna have a little chat," John says, his voice dangerously level and even, "about Doctor McKay."
"She would have made a good wife," Lucius muses. "She was very helpful with all the science things."
"One little problem with that," John says. "She just so happens to belong to me." He leans forward. "And you wanna know what I did to the last guy who laid a finger on my girlfriend?"
"Is it a happy story?" he says, with that same stupidly cheerful face he likes to wear so much. "I like happy stories."
"Not really, no. You probably know it already though," John says, with a mirthless laugh. "His name was Kolya."
Lucius sucks in a breath, panic in his eyes. "Look, honestly, I swear on my life that I didn't touch Doctor McKay," he babbles, looking terrified. "Not that she's not a healthy girl or anything- it's just that she's a little more woman than I can handle, if you follow me." He stops. "This really isn't helping, is it?"
"Not so much." He leans in further, right in Lucius's face, close enough for Lucius to feel his breath. "The only reason I didn't kill you is that there are other people who deserve to do the honors a whole hell of a lot more than I do." His face goes dark. "If I ever see you again, if I ever hear about you, then I will kill you. Don't think for an instant I won't."
Lucius swallows hard, and John leans back, giving Lucius his best and most dangerous smile. "You're welcome to come back, Cait," he says. "We're done here."
--
There's a little bit of the herb left in the lab, and John takes great pleasure in destroying it; he was kind of sure that Mer or one of the other scientists was going to want to save it and analyze it, but there's no one there when John goes.
In fact, he can't find Mer at all. People are getting the city back together, tossing badly-constructed gourd lamps into the ocean and whatnot as they all avoid each others' eyes out of embarrassment, but Mer's not among them.
She's not in the mess or any of the other labs or the reading room or the control tower, so John tries her room, even though she's rarely there during the day. The door's locked, which it never is; it's programmed to let John in, but nothing happens when he tries.
That's never happened before.
He bangs on the door, calling for her, but there's no answer, and by now he's freaking out a little. He digs in his pocket; his pocket knife isn't ideal for prying off the control panel for her door, and it's entirely likely that's she's going to regret having taught him how to hotwire it, but finally the door hisses open.
It's dark, and John is afraid for a moment that he's an idiot who's just wasted half an hour trying to get into an empty room.
"Go away," Meredith says coldly as John steps inside; he can just see her in silhouette in the light of her laptop.
He waves the door shut; something tells him it'd be a critical error to do what she says. "Mer," he says, walking towards her. "I couldn't find you."
"I'm doing something important, and you're interrupting," she snaps, but when John walks around behind her, all she's got open is a blank Excel file. "Get out."
"Mer," he says softly, sliding his hands onto her shoulders. He can feel how her chest is moving up and down, like she's panting, maybe, starting to hyperventilate. "What's wrong?"
John winces as the laptop hits the floor, but Meredith doesn't even seem to notice. She stands up, whirling around to face him; even in the dark he can see that she's been crying. "What the fuck do you think is wrong?"
"He's gone," he says carefully, holding up his hands, trying not to upset her even worse than she is now. "Nobody's infected anymore. It's going to be okay."
"That's all you have to say to me?" she says, and her voice is just one notch below hysterical. "It's already not fucking okay, Colonel." John's thrown off, shrinking back a little when she snaps his title at him; she hasn't even done that in years, and never like this.
"Do you want to know what I did?" she says, panting heavily, like she's just barely keeping it together. "Do you want to know what I told him I'd do?" Her hands ball into fists; John can see the exact moment when she snaps, but he can't do anything about it.
"I threw myself at him and he didn't even want me," Meredith screams. "I wasn't even good enough to get raped, John."
There is nothing, absolutely nothing John can say in response to that. His stomach churns at the thought of it, of what happened, of what could have happened, but that's not even the worst part. There are dark places in her past where he doesn't go, where she won't let him; and if this is what brings her back to them, If this is where her brain goes off to, if this is how she reacts, if this is how she thinks of herself, John doesn't ever want to know what they are.
If that makes him a bad person, it's still better than knowing.
"He's dead," John says, because he doesn't know what else he can tell her. "The villagers-" He sighs. "I'm not going to say that I didn't help. No one knows but me and Cait. It was- it was simpler that way."
Mer lets out a shuddering breath. "Only you would pick murder over paperwork," she says, and it's really not funny at all, not with everything they've been through, but at least she's stepped down from hysteria into sarcasm.
She's calmed down enough that John risks stepping towards her, putting his arms around her carefully. "It's not alright, but I promise you it will be.You didn't deserve to go through that at all. I'm never going to fuck up like that again, not if I can possibly help it."
She sighs, clinging to him for dear life. "You fucking better not," she says. "Because you know I could make sure they never found your body."
He kisses the top of her head. "It's not like you don't remind me twice a week."
She snorts weakly in amusement; it comes out kind of wrong, because that's when she starts sobbing into his shirt.
John still feels completely helpless, but at least he has a better idea of what he's expected to do; he gently maneuvers her into her bed, trying his best not to let her go for more than he possibly has to. She curls up, and he fits himself in behind her, stroking her hair, whispering soft, meaningless things until she cries herself to sleep.
His heart aches, but there's nothing to do but hold her tighter, never let her go.
