Smooches Eric, one of the three fountains of all knowledge at my college (Librarians for those of you who were wondering) for putting up with me and finally agreeing to go over this. Any mistakes are mine, probably because I chose to ignore his advice.
Pairings: McShep, Bates/OC
Spoilers: Little bit for 'Before I Sleep'
Raiting: M, for future content.
Summary: Rodney felt like he was floating in a sea of water. It was everywhere. Surrounding his body, soaking his skin, filling every orifice.
In over their head
They came upon him in waves. Flashes of memories he wasn't even sure were real. Major Sheppard. A room. Telling those that followed not to touch anything. Holtcombe yelling out a warning. A flash of light. Feeling like his entire body was being ripped apart from the inside out. Liquid cold. Opening his eyes, and seeing only water. Breathing it in. Feeling it rush down his throat. Filling his lungs. Wondering if perhaps, OldWeir hadn't been right all along. That in the end, he was destined to die, not by Wraith, but by drowning. Black encroaching on the edge of his eyes. A flash of gold and blue. And then, nothing...
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Rodney felt like he was floating in a sea of water. It was everywhere. Surrounding his body, soaking his skin, filling every orifice. Rushing in his ears, blocking his nose. Forcing its way past cold lips and down his throat into his lungs.
No, wait, that wasn't water. It was fingers on his nose, words in his ears. And lips on his mouth. Lips that were forcing air, not water, down his throat. Air, that when it reached his lungs, found them full of water.
There was pressure on his chest then. Tight, binding, forcing the water that had taken over his lungs to come back the out the way it went in. Vomiting inevitably followed, but that was ok, because with the water gone, air could try to take its place. Only, he hadn't the strength to pull it in. Couldn't make his chest expand. Couldn't ease the burning in his lungs, that until now, he hadn't even realized existed.
There was a splash of water on his face. A finger wormed it's way past his lips, scooping out what little bile remained in his mouth, and then the lips were back, once again forcing air inside him. Only this time, empty lungs greeted the gas. Absorbed it in, all but did a happy dance at it's arrival.
The lips left for a moment, the pressure returned on his chest, the air that had just filled him leaving in a rush. He didn't have time to miss it though, as the lips returned, bringing more with them.
He was content to let the lips and pressure continue to feed oxygen to him, but his body had other plans. There was still water in his lungs, and some in his stomach as well, and it wanted the invaders out.
Thus ensued another round of vomiting, but this time, when he finished, he was breathing on his own. Not as nice as having the lips and pressure do it for him, but the air he took in now was richer, fuller. A tiny part of his brain said that this was because it was directly from the atmosphere, and not an exhalation of another. Not mixed with the carbon dioxide that a person releases when they breathe out. He really didn't care at the moment, as long as his own lungs kept working.
Now that his body was functioning on its own, his mind decided to return from the mini-vacation it had taken. And it wanted to know what the hell was going on. The last thing he remembered, was exploring a lab on Atlantis. Sheppard had been there, as well as a few other Marines, and a team of scientists. They had been studying a waste reprocessing facility in the bowels of the city. How did one go from the guts of Atlantis, to nearly drowning? Only one way to find out.
Cracking open an eye, he was greeted with a stunning view. The sun was resting on the horizon, simultaneously turning both ocean and sky a rainbow's assortment of reds, pinks, oranges and purples.
It would have been one of the most breathtaking sights he had ever seen, if not for one small fact. A tiny matter really, hardly worth mentioning. But, it was kind of important. Well, ok, more than kind of.
It was the decidedly pointed lack of solid ground, anywhere in view. Make that the lack of ground, solid or otherwise. Because Rodney was viewing this spectacular sight, submerged up to his neck in water.
Well shit.
