I'll Protect You
Sarie Venea
I tried to do fluff, I really did. But, I simply couldn't get away from the angst. shakes head hopelessly So, my friends, here it is. As sexy as my angst could get.
"My chopper went down."
Elizabeth lay on the bed, the sheet pulled up around her shoulders. His windows were open, the white curtains fluttering against the quiet sunlight.
John stood next to the bed, his grey pants slung low over his bare waist. He let the delicate fabric brush against his chest and arms, watching the waves form in the slit of ocean that showed through. She reached up, her hand softly tracing the scar she'd found last night.
It was long, reaching from his lower back and curving around his side before disappearing below his waistband. Her fingers brushed the thin pink line, tracing along his smooth skin, curving over his hipbone.
"A crash," she whispered.
"Before Afghanistan. In the gulf, I was landing on a carrier. A freak wind burst slammed me into the control tower. Two Navy officers were killed."
"Not your fault."
"That's what their little girls said. Not my fault."
"How badly were you hurt?"
He shivered at the touch that followed the tender, soft path.
"The Apache bent in half. Sheared metal sliced me in half."
She closed her eyes, her hand sliding along the inside of his arm and into his palm, stopping at his fingertips. She imagined his pain, trapped in the burning wreckage, hot metal cutting into him and blood drenching his skin. Screams and cries for help, moaning of dying men. Knowing he was the cause. Being unable to think, to move, to try to get out. With every movement the sharp fragment cut deeper.
He jumped, gasping lightly and pulling away from her touch. She looked up. The imagined pain was etched on his features, visible and real. She slid her bare feet to the floor, wrapping the sheet around her body and moving to stand in front of him. He rested his hands on her shoulders, running his rough palms over her arms. She watched his eyes, the green dark and far away.
"They got me out two hours later, I don't think I was…alive…really." He grinned, though it didn't even come close to his eyes.
Elizabeth rested her hands on his sides, her thumbs stroking against his ribcage and her fingers splayed over his skin. She let her hands settle lower, one palm cupping the scarred hip.
"Hey," she whispered. "Look at me."
His eyes dropped to hers.
"You're alive. This I know. You're alive; you're here." She smiled, pressing her full length to his. She rested her forehead against his, raising up onto her feet a bit so she could look straight into his eyes. Her hands moved up his back, hooking over his shoulders so she could pull him closer. She kissed him, hard.
John closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss and letting his own hands move over her bare back. She fit perfectly, her hair loose and brushing against his cheek and her hands gently rubbing over his shoulders. He broke the kiss and pulled her close, resting his chin on her head.
"I love you," he whispered. "Do you know that?"
Elizabeth nodded, letting her head rest on his shoulder and feeling the warmth of his body seeping into her muscles.
"But at that time, at that moment, I prayed I would die, rather than continue. I never lost consciousness. I felt every minute of those two hours." His voice and body were shaking, the words measured, slow. She shook too, feeling it in the core of her being. Her chest ached and she felt tears pressing into her eyes.
"No." Her voice was harsh and she jerked backward, her hands coming up to frame his face. "I won't hear that again, you understand? Don't ever say that to me again."
She let the tears run, holding him still. "You are here, you're alive. You made it, John Sheppard. You lived." She ran her hands over his ears, through his hair, down his neck and over the muscles that lined his shoulders. Gripping them tightly, she shook him firmly. "Don't you ever tell me that you've stopped fighting."
He grabbed her close, his hands spreading against her back and pulling her against him.
"I'm so sorry, John, I'm so sorry." She cried for his pain, holding him with every ounce of strength she had. She sucked in a breath, clenching her teeth into the sob. Leaning back into his arms, she brought her hands to his face again. "I will never let that happen to you again. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear." She threw her arms around him again, burying her face in his neck and letting the sheet slip free.
"I'll protect you." The whisper was lost in his lips, in his tongue and hands and the love that sang through her body.