Title: The Watchman
Rating: G
Spoils: I don't think there are any.
Summary: Nighttime on Atlantis is the only thing there is peace.
Author's Notes: This is my first SGA fic! I wrote this a one o'clock in morning without a beta so any mistakes are mine. Please comment.
Disclaimer: Not my toys, I'll put them back when I'm done without too much damage. :evil:
The Watchman
"Good night, McDonald," he called over his shoulder as he left the control room.
I started to correct him, but by the time I opened my mouth he was gone. Oh well, McDonald was closer than he was last time. He was final person to leave the control room. The lights are dimmed, most of the screens darkened, and the room is only ever this quiet for these few hours.
I can see a thin wedge of light spilling down the stairs from the office above and I know I am not the only one who is keeping watch over the great city.
The nights are so beautiful in Atlantis. I can hear the deep ocean crashing against the base. The sound still resonates even at this height. I love the sound. When I first arrived, I thought I would never get used to the constant pounding, the constant crashing.
It grows on you, like everything on this side of the universe. There are things you miss, of course. People mostly and other things that are truly meaningless, but can offer small comforts when you face your death on a daily bases.
My sister's vegetarian lasagna, the pillow my grandmother made for me while I had the chicken pox when I was a kid, the way you can stand on my back porch and see for miles, movie theater popcorn, sleeping in and staying up insanely late because you want to not because you have to, it all seem so small, yet so important. I've decided they are the little things that make up human.
You have time to think about these things when you're on night duty. Two o'clock to six o'clock in morning, it's the graveyard shift; the kind of hours that turns you into a vampire. And tonight is my last night for another six months, if we're still here. One month on the graveyard, then you go to back of the line. Of course, I'm not the only one who has this shift, but I am the only one assigned to the control tower.
Five or six other marines patrol the gate room below. Their occasional footsteps added to the drumming of the ocean. I don't talk to them, they don't talk to me, they don't even talk to each other, much. Everything is quiet and most people want to keep it that way; the night does that.
Sometimes there are scientists who share my hours. Some calibration that has to be finished or such and such will happen. There is no such thing as waiting until the morning on this base. There is no way to exaggerate it either. Every situation is truly life or death.
The ocean is calling to me. I leave my post. The door slides gracefully open as I approach. The gentle breeze greets me and the salty air fills my nose. I missed the ocean when I was last home on leave. I had to buy one of those stupid white noise machines to help me sleep; it didn't work. The dreams haunted me even on Earth.
That's why I like the graveyard shift. I sleep better after being on duty all night. I lean on the railing. Now I can watch the waves. The moon is making the water absolutely sparkle. The white caps are perfectly visible. I didn't know what a white cap was until I joined the expedition.
There aren't many oceans on the Great Plains. It's a different kind of expanse, too. It's endless, like the ocean, but softer, more forgiving. It's a gentle rolling of the earth, instead of the throbbing of the water. The pulse is different. The rhythm of the way of life is different.
The door opens again and I jump. I not suppose to be out here while on duty.
"Sorry, ma'am. I'll return to my post."
She smiles, "I won't tell anybody, if you don't tell anybody. I'm suppose to be working too"
I smile back, "It's a deal."
I lean against the railing again and she stand next to me. I watch her for a few moments, just long enough that she doesn't notice. She is bone tried. You can tell by the way she holds her shoulders. The physical weight is pressing down on her.
We stand silently for a while. The ocean memorizes us both. It is not an uncomfortable silence. Many people seem to think there need to be talk to communicate. We are both unburdening our souls upon the other without saying a word.
Out of the corner of my eye, one of the final light still on in the city flicks off and the spell breaks.
"Tonight's the last night of this graveyard rotation, right?" she finally says.
"Yes, ma'am."
She smiles again, "So I'll have new faces tomorrow night."
I nodded. She straightens up, stretching her arms above her head. She yawns, widely, which make me yawn. She laughs, softly.
"Well, I have more paperwork to finish before the check-in tomorrow morning. I think I should get back to work."
I nodded again. She is giving me permission to stay out here, but I follow her back inside and go back to my post. I watch her walk back up the stairs to her office. I check my watch; there are still two more hours until the city wake and can finally get some sleep.