For the SGAHC h/c whumping story challenge
Title: Return to Sender
Author: Vecurist
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Disclaimer: Don't own anything associated with Stargate Atlantis except a DVD set.
Summary: Sheppard wakes up in a crashed puddlejumper. His last memories are of Atlantis under attack.
A/N: This bunny has been biting for quite awhile. I've tried to ignore it and get on with schoolwork to no avail. This is my break from protein sequences and fungal evolutionary history
Lt. Colonel John Sheppard lingered for moment in that blissful delicate bubble between sleep and wakefulness, in denial of pain, realizations and consequences. He knew that he was on something hard, most likely an infirmary bed, and half expected to hear a certain brogue to start issuing orders any moment. Nothing. No beeping of machines, no scolding by a certain Scotsman, no whining by a certain Canadian. The last
item, ruptured the membrane, consciousness flooding in, and had him on his feet, despite the protests of his head and ribs. He'd been on the floor of a jumper, make that a crashed jumper from the initial survey.
Crap. Ribs sore, probably bruised most likely, large goose egg of a bruise developing on the side of his head, all consistent with getting thrown from the impact of the crash. What crash? He certainly didn't remember a crash, although any landing you could walk away from was a good one He took a quick look around the inside, then popped the hatch for a quick look outside. That settled it – he wasn't going anywhere a while – even McKay, McGyver, and a case of duck tape couldn't fix the jumper. He was screwed. Even more so when he took in his surroundings – nothing but desert as far as the eye could see.
Back inside the jumper he took a quick survey – he had water and rations for two days - four if he was careful. That'd sure impress Carson and McKay. He thought of the two for a moment, trying to figure out what he was doing alone on this rock with a crashed jumper. Then the image hit, nearly dropping him to his knees as if in prayer or penance. The attack – the Wraith - swift, sudden, without warning. Piloting a jumper in a last ditch attempt to buy time, any time to evacuate people back to Earth, the alpha site, anywhere but Atlantis. Atlantis, in flames, burning. He thought he could almost hear her screaming.
After five days, Sheppard couldn't decide which was worse: dying of boredom or dying of thirst. Well, maybe it was a stupid question, he'd never heard of anyone actually dying of boredom. Despite the bruises and his weakened state, he'd attempted to survey the area around the jumper. Nothing, except sand and rocks. Not to mention the heat. He felt he was in a blast furnace. The last time he'd been in situation like this, he'd been stuck outside Yuma with a busted radiator in July. No 'Gate anywhere on the horizon. He was stuck, facing a certain, unpleasant end.
Maybe it was just as well. Maybe it was what he deserved. With little to occupy himself, his thoughts drifted to all those he'd disappointed, tried to protect, and ultimately let down. His parents. Mitch and Dex. And of course, the big one: everyone on Atlantis. He thought he'd found himself a chance to start fresh and he'd blown it, like always. His last impressions of Atlantis kept replaying in his mind like a stuck recording. People screaming. The frantic cries of Elizabeth and Rodney, Ronon and Teyla gearing up for a fight they knew they couldn't win. He'd brought this on all of them. He should have died with them, but he deserved his fate to die miserably and alone. He wondered if their ghosts would forgive him, because he could never forgive himself.
A/N: Yes, there is more. With more whumping. Yes, Yuma in July is bad.