Title: Sleeping Arrangements (not very creative...)
Pairing: None, Gen.
Characters: John, Rodney, Team
Rating: K
Word Count: ~700
Warning: Umm... might seem slash-y, but it's not?
Author's Note: Wrote this while listening to the lovely Regina Spektor's new CD, which MySpace is nice enough to sample today. I am incredibly tempted to write a Rodney!fic to "Genius", because, well, duh, and I probably will eventually... thank god for summer vacation, hmm? :) PS: SNUGGLE!FIC. :D
Summary: When he's awoken from his sleep, again, hetries to take a deep breath and count to ten or whatever, he really does, but nothing can block out the buzz saw going to town in his ear.
Sleeping Arrangements
Blood relatives often have nothing to do with family, and similarly, family is about who you choose to make your life with. -Oliver Hudson
When he bolts awake for the fourth time, he tries to be patient, he really does. Remembers Teyla's droning of "block everything out, concentrate only on yourself; everything going through your mind and body, and if you fall asleep one more time during meditation, Colonel…" and tries to take a deep breath and count to ten or whatever, but nothing can block out the buzz saw going to town in his ear.
"Rodney!" he finally shouts (and sure, he only made it to seven, but that's way further than he usually gets with McKay.)
The way Rodney bolts upright and snorts a panicky 'what!?' would be funny if it weren't four in the goddamn morning.
"Shut. Up." He puts just enough emphasis in it to seem threatening, and hopes against hope that Rodney will forget that John's sworn to protect him, not kill him, because he just might have to break that promise if one more goddamn snore comes out of his mouth.
"What?" he asks bewilderedly, rubbing at his eyes with a fist like a little boy.
Bastard. Trying to act innocent.
"You know what you did." He says acerbically.
Rodney looks at him with an incredulous stink eye, "Remind me again when we got married? 'Cause I don't remember the reception, and I obviously missed the honey moon."
"Back on P4X-982."
"…Oh yeah." He hmms quietly then goes back to rubbing his eyes and yawning monstrously. "Did you wake me up for some particular reason?"
Before John can come up with a suitably scathing reply, he looks up at Rodney from his spot on their shared cot and all his anger fades away at the dark circles under startlingly blue eyes, enhanced by the bloodshot backdrop around them. He thinks about the recently repaired sewage problem that Rodney spent well over twenty four hours working on. He thinks about the extra large mug of coffee on the table during the briefing. He thinks about having to nudge him every once in a while during negotiations to keep the locals from murdering them for napping, and decides maybe the snoring isn't so bad.
(Besides, he thinks, this is the fourth time tonight Rodney's saved you from another nightmare.)
"Nothing, Rodney. Was just havin' a bad dream." He says it in his 'soothing McKay, will be tough later' voice, then rolls onto his right side to settle down again. He spots Ronon and Teyla on the other side of the large room, behind a sheer piece of cloth used to separate the "Guest Quarters" in the current Humble Village. Ronon is leaning against the wall dozing, still completely aware of everything going on.
"Oh," Rodney mutters forlornly, "hmm."
John quickly dismisses it, and hopes Rodney will lie back down already, so they could both go to sleep.
"Yeah," Rodney mutters again, then haphazardly flops back down onto the bed, his back banging roughly against John, who can't help the soft 'oomph' that escapes him. He scowls out into the darkness, in the general direction of Ronon, and waits for Rodney to adjust himself.
He does, scooting so that they are completely back-to-back, with Rodney curled into a little ball, like he only does when they're off world. He lets out little snuffles, then seems to settle, completely squished up against Sheppard.
Oh, John thinks, and then a small smile makes it onto his face when he feels Rodney's breathe even out and nothing more than a snuffle escapes his mouth. He's reminded vaguely of thunderstorms with Dave, when they were both young and still liked each other, when they ended up in a similar position after staying up late telling scary stories to the backdrop of crashing bolts. This makes John's smile a little bigger, and he huffs and pushes back into Rodney as he settles himself, and ignores what he thinks is a stupid grin on Ronon's face.
John doesn't have any more nightmares that night.
