Daredevil
By Mickey
Status: Completed 06/03/2009
Season: 2 or later
Archive Permission: Ask first.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Word Count: 1,020
Author's Notes: This fic was written for the stargatekiddrabbles May 27th line challenge: Starting Line: "Is this really what you want?" Ending Line: "Okay, you were right all along." I don't really have the time to go into detail about how John was shrunk. Here's all you really need to know. John has been shrunk to a child approximately eight years of age. He has no memory of his adult life, and they have no idea if he will ever revert back to adulthood. He was shrunk while the team was exploring the remains of an advanced (not Ancient) civilization wiped out by the Wraith long ago. Someday I may go back and write the "beginning" of this fic, but don't hold your breath.
"Is this really what you want?" Ronon questioned his recently downsized friend.
"Yes!" Sheppard replied, head bobbing up and down as he bounced from foot to foot.
Ronon looked at the boy skeptically. "Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" Sheppard was bouncing off the walls. "Come on, it's so cool. I just have to try it out. Pleeeeeease," he begged.
The look on Sheppard's face almost made Ronon laugh. Almost. "McKay said this could be dangerous." Flipping the object around in his hands, he added, "It does look dangerous, especially since we have none of the protective equipment you've told me about."
Sheppard rolled his eyes as he responded, "Don't be a wuss. Walking is dangerous according to Rodney. He wouldn't know what fun was if it jumped up and bit him on his six."
Ronon easily picked up on the playful mocking tone Sheppard had when speaking about McKay, much like the tone he'd used as an adult.
"Besides, I'm eight years old. I'm not a stupid little kid or a baby. I can take care of myself."
Skinny arms crossed over his chest, Sheppard glared at Ronon as if to dare him to argue that point. This mini version of Sheppard was fun to hang out with, and he wondered if this was what Sheppard had been like as a kid the first time around. Honestly, he reminded Ronon of himself at that age. Still, much as he liked the kid, he wanted the adult Sheppard back. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he missed his old running and sparring partner. He missed his friend.
Choking back a laugh at the defiant, impatient look on Sheppard's face, Ronon caved and handed the device -what appeared to be an Ancient version of what Sheppard had called a skateboard- over to his pint-sized friend. Although Sheppard seemed to have no memory of his former life, and they had no idea when or if he'd regain his memory, the boy would occasionally say or do something that reminded him of Sheppard's grown self.
"Come on!" Sheppard practically yelled in his excitement. "I'll show you had to ride it."
Shaking his head, Ronon allowed himself to be dragged out of Rodney's lab. For some reason, he had a niggling feeling something was going to go wrong. He pushed the thoughts aside and allowed himself to be wrapped up in the youth's exuberance. It really did sound like fun, and really, what could harm could possibly come from it?
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"Oh crap!" John yelled as the board flew out from under his feet. He hit the ground with teeth rattling force several feet from the makeshift ramp he'd wrangled Ronon into helping him make. Stars burst before his eyes like a fourth of July display as he rolled to a stop, his head connecting with an inconveniently placed wall. Blinking rapidly, he tried to make them go away.
"Sheppard!"
John heard Ronon yell through the ringing in his ears. Just as he started to push himself up, he fell back down, only to have Ronon's strong hands pull him upright again.
"I'm okay. I'm good," John assured Ronon. He turned to face his friend and grimaced at the concern he saw there. Seriously, why do grownups always get so worked up just because a kid falls! It's not like I broke anything. John tested that thought by shaking his arms and legs. They were a little sore, but seemed okay. Don't think I did, anyway. Although, his head was throbbing a little.
"Damn it," Ronon swore.
John looked up at Ronon in confusion then felt a trickle going down his face near his left eye. His hand flew up to his face and he winced as his fingers connected with a cut. He pulled his away to find his fingers sticky and covered with blood. "Dang. Doctor Beckett isn't going to be happy."
"McKay is going to kill me," Ronon groused as he pulled out a clean -or at least it looked clean to John- cloth from his pocket and handed it to John, who then pressed it to the cut on his forehead.
"Suck it up, Ronon. He's a geek. You can handle him. Just threaten to sick Teyla and her Bantos stick thingies on him," John offered helpfully.
Ronon gave a short bark of a laugh. "Yeah," he agreed, "guess I could. Let's get to the infirmary and get you patched up. You're bleeding all over the floor."
"Good idea," John was about to start walking when Ronon scooped him up. "I can walk!" he protested. "And there's no way I'm letting those jarhead Marines see me get carried!" Without argument, Ronon set him back on his feet. He felt Ronon's large hand on his shoulder as he took a few wobbly steps.
Within minutes, they were in the infirmary. As John had guessed, Beckett was highly upset. Fortunately for John, the doctor seemed to be a sucker for puppy dog eyes and turned his wrath on Ronon. After several minutes of ranting about how careless Ronon was for allowing him to ride the "skateboard" in the first place -and laying into him even more for blaming the "lad"-, the doctor finally seemed to be calming down.
Turning his attention back to John, and away from a scowling Ronon, Doctor Beckett addressed him, "I'm going to give you a shot to numb the area. Then I'll stitch up that cut. I hope you've learned a lesson about messing with equipment you're not familiar with, lad."
"Yes, sir," John replied, head down and pretending to be suitably chastised. I've learned to wear a helmet next time and make sure there aren't any walls nearby! Oh, and never let go of the 'board that high in the air.
John cringed and reconsidered his last thought as Beckett picked up a very large needle from the tray. Maybe riding that thing, cool as it had looked, really wasn't such a great idea after all. Looking up to Ronon as the needle loomed closer to his head, he conceded, "Okay, you were right all along."
THE END