Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Notes: Inspired by
Quote #14 from quoteficlets. Also, I've switched to the fiction
ratings system exclusively. The rating will always be linked back to
the FR site in my stories. :)
Rodney McKay had scars. Long, thin scars on his back, a thick short one on his arm. He had a pock mark on his temple that he covered with his hair; he chose to ignore that scar, hoping if he did that, he wouldn't have to remember the even leading to him getting it.
John had told him once that scars were souvenirs you never lose. Carson said they were the physical memories of things everyone tries to forget.
He'd told them both that they were insane and stole some of John's hair gel, carefully arranging his hair to cover the maximum amount of scars. Beside the pock mark, there'd been a curve of raised flesh stretching from behind his ear to the bottom of his nose.
There was a five point star carved into the back of his neck with a small piece of metal sitting in the middle, a gift from a race who hadn't understood pain. There were days he contemplates pulling the metal free of his skin, but a thread of the device was wound into his brain. Carson swore up and down that there seemed to be no reason for the device. It didn't operate or cause pain.
John was usually there to stop him from overthinking his scars. Holding him tight at night to quell the nightmares and kissing him awake in the morning. It made his days warmer and happier, though sometimes all he had to do was look in the mirror for the worst of the memories to return.
"You're perfect. Don't think about any of that, okay?" John whispered as arms came around Rodney's waist. And in the mirror, Rodney could see the plain love in his eyes.
"Not perfect."
John simply smiled and his tongue darted out to lick Rodney's shoulder, "Well, we'll just agree to disagree." His eyes darkened; John kissed a particular scar, laving it with attention.
Two small scars set close together, the skin lighter and he can still remember Elizabeth's face when he and John had shown her their matching markings. The one souvenir that he was glad to have and as John nipped his skin, he hoped the 'jr' on his shoulder never faded.