Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Warnings: Character
deaths
Some days John can still hear voices in the vacant woods. The whispers of children long gone and the laughter of friends who were most certainly dead echoing through the redwoods. One those days, he stays inside.
Away from the memories that seek to tear him apart.
His hovel is small and camouflaged in the forest, making it that much harder for people to find him. No one has yet so he's proud of his ability to hide. It wasn't a skill he'd used much before Atlantis' destruction.
After the last of the city had slipped beneath the water, taking with it almost all of those he'd known, it had become a most needed skill. Of course he still wishes he'd had medical training instead. His ability to build shelter hadn't helped Rodney any.
Having been forced into the jumper bay, Rodney and John as well as the people they'd been with had intended to fight to the death against the invading wraith. Atlantis, thought, had another idea and as her life ended, the city made sure they were safely inside the remaining puddle jumpers.
Carson, John, Rodney, Elizabeth, Radek, and a select few others – some with the gene and some without – were saved, but they were ill prepared for life outside her walls. Carson was the first they buried, followed quickly by Elizabeth and one of the botanists. Radek took longer and when John and Rodney realized they were the only ones left, it was almost like an epiphany. They both wept for the ones they lost.
Years passed, they were happy. They moved every few days and christened each new home by making love.
John tries not to think about those days now. He tries not to think of Rodney's face when he began to slowly waste away, or when Rodney took his last gasping breath. After that his world turned dark, not that there was much of it.
Not after the second ship from Earth came and went without him, but he'd seen it with his own eyes. He still gets a cold chill when he thinks about the scarred metal, the twists and gashes in the hull – they'd engaged in a battle with Wraith. And he's sure as hell that the ship never made it back to Earth.
So he scours the woods for his shelter, fishes in the river everyday when the shadows disappear, and right at dusk he hunts the few wild animals indigenous to the mainland. This day he wanders into the old Athosian village, belly growling from a lack of breakfast, and he watches the sway of the handmade blankets that Rodney'd always refused to touch.
He drags one down around his shoulders. It's warm and comforting, something the world wasn't anymore and he lumbers off toward the far end where his friends are buried to ensure that he didn't need to throw on another layer of dirt to protect them from anything that could dig them up.
A thought strikes him suddenly; he was the last one left, he wouldn't be buried. Most likely the scavenger birds who hung around would pick the flesh from his bones and leave behind a clean skeleton with dog tags as his grave stone.
It doesn't bother him. It would have once, he knows, but not anymore because when he finally meets his life's end, John's sure that Rodney will meet him. He finds a perfect peace in that thought.
He drifts down to the beach, a ten minute walk from the makeshift graveyard, and listens to the swish of waves as they reach shore. He digs the edge of his tattered shoes into the sand after he sits and John breathes in the salt smell. He contemplates what he'll hunt out for dinner, no thought paid to anything but what he'd prepare for dinner.
He doesn't heard the dart's shrill engine until it is too late. He's in the ship before he could run and he's rematerialized right in front of the one who's to feed on him.
His death is painful but he doesn't give them the glory of hearing him scream. And as he feels the last of his energy dwindle from him, John could almost swear that Rodney is there with a hand outstretched toward him.
John finds peace in that instant.