Title: Fragments of Vision
Rating: T
Summary: Snapshots of dreamscape moments: nightmares, illusions and frozen seconds of perfection. Sheyla.
Disclaimer: Me no own :D
I'm in a really Sheyla mood recently… this is the third fic in like a week!
And I was sent a list of prompt words (the same one that Best Laid Plans was inspired from) and, 'cause I didn't want to write a fic for each, wrote a sentence. And there are like loads more prompts, so I dunno, I might write more of these, if anyone wants to see more… and I might even if no one does!
R&R is much loved… and enjoy!
Fragments of Vision
Pray
He has never seen her pray before; but now, as he opens his eyes to the muted lights of the Infirmary, she is sat beside him, eyes closed, brow furrowed, lips moving in what can only be described as a plead of mercy – for his life.
Knife
The blade is light in his hand as he watches the stranger warily: the other man with his knife pressed flush to Teyla's throat – John is torn for a moment, but, as the enemy's demands grow louder and a crimson bead adorns her dusky skin, his own knife drops to the ground with a clatter, loud in the tense atmosphere: a small price to pay for her safety.
Light
In the light of morning, she lies on her side, facing the wall, unwilling to roll over and shatter what she is sure must be a dream – until she hears his raspy, muted snores, and smiles.
Cold
He sees her shiver in the subzero air, her arms wrapped ineffectually tight around her small frame: he reaches out and draws her into his warming embrace, and she doesn't resist.
Affair
He tries not to watch as she laughs softly with Ronon, tries not to let jealousy infiltrate his carefully cultivated veneer of control and distance – he tells himself she's not having an affair because she was never his to start with, and that thought leaves him oddly empty.
Nocturnal
She never used to be very alert during the hours of darkness, unless it was essential, but now, as his fingers glide over her bare skin in a tantalizing pattern of seduction, she finds herself very much a nocturnal creature.
Movie
It's about halfway through the film that he feels her fingers brush lightly against his, almost asking for permission – he quells the racing of his heart, and accepts.
Wait
"Don't wait for me!" he had yelled to them as they raced to the 'gate, under fire and under duress – as the tears swell in her dark eyes and she stands at the head of his casket, she wishes that she hadn't listened.
Patient
He shrugs off her light-hearted reprimand, a message from Carson, with the throwaway comment, "Well, I never did make a good patient" – and the saucy wink he tosses her doesn't exactly hinder him either.
Crime
They had been warned that crime was rife, but she had never expected this; never expected to find him bleeding and unconscious in a grimy backstreet, half naked – she lifts him up into her arms, and breathes a heady sigh of relief.
Choke
He coughs suddenly, startled at her innocently-intended question; food sticks in his throat, choking him, until he looks up at her, incredulous, and exclaims, "What?!"
Fever
Carson said that she'd be okay, that her fever was going down, but the good doctor's reassurances don't stop John from sitting firmly beside her, his fingers linked through hers, his gaze never leaving her face.
Missing
She forces herself to breathe steadily, to keep a level head: he's gone missing before, this is no different – he will be fine, she tells herself, trying desperately to believe her lie.
Eat
He never actually enjoyed watching people eat before, but with her, with the way she flashes him a glance from underneath hooded lids, the way her tongue flickers across full lips, he finds himself captivated, unable to look away as she toys with him, like a cat does a mouse.
Lake
Water sluices across his lean muscles as he swims, silent as a fish, just beneath the crinkled surface of the lake water – with a devious smile, she strips out of her clothes and slips naked beneath the silver ripples to join him.
Chance
Her hand brushes his cheek softly, her eyes meet his – "Last chance to go," she whispers softly, words telling him he can leave, gaze begging him to stay: her unspoken question is answers by his lips on hers.
Appear
White silk flows over her skin, sheathing her form in pristine light – he is utterly speechless, and can only stand there as she moves, oh-so-beautiful, up the petal-strewn aisle towards him.
Whisper
She is blind in the darkness, cloth twisted across her eyes; she can feel fear setting in, creeping towards her with sinister malevolence – and then she hears his voice, whispering her name in the stillness, and the terror flees on wings of blackness.
Day
He'd been asked the question before – What would you do if you had a day to live? – but he'd never answered, unsure: now, intertwined with her lithe body in the first glow of dawn, he reflects that this is what he'd pick, without hesitation.
Scream
He can hear her, sobbing and screaming as they rip her mind to pieces – he throws himself against the bolted door, desperate to get to her, to save her, and as her voice fades, until she just whimpers his name over and over in a silent mantra, he screams out until his voice is hoarse; abuse and reassurance and blinding panic, all in three impassioned words: "Let her go!"