ext_2457 ([identity profile] wneleh.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] sga_episodefic2008-11-21 06:02 am

FIC: Just A Little Freakout, by Helen W. ([livejournal.com profile] wneleh) (Remnants)

Title: Just A Little Freakout
Author: Helen W. ([livejournal.com profile] wneleh)
Episode: Remnants (5x15)
Rating: PG for language
Category: gen
Major Characters: John, Rodney
Wordcount: ~600
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc. etc.
Summary: Just a little John freakout, because this fandom needs more smarm.

Written for the S5 fic-an-episode challenge. All feedback welcome!

John didn't freak out until the third day after they'd sent the pod people on their merry way.

It wasn't - wasn't at all - the whole "You're a mess, John Sheppard," thing the AI had kept throwing at him that did him in. That his mental landscape was, well, complex, was not exactly a news flash. (Though what the hell WAS a news flash, anyway? Could you see a news flash in daylight? What color did it flash?)

No, what got him (did the sports section flash?) - the reason he was kind of drifting here (what about the lifestyle section? Did it flash?) while Rodney made words happen (what about the comics?) - was that… was that…

"John, look at me. LOOK AT ME! I'm five seconds from calling for a med team here… Am I wasting time, valuable seconds? God, I am, I am, I…"

John opened his eyes. It seemed he'd slid down a wall, and was now sitting on the floor of their favorite racing hallway (1/20th mile loop, which was really convenient for timing); their cars and controllers were a few feet behind Rodney, who was kneeling next to him and STEALING HIS FREAKOUT.

"Don't…" John swallowed, then started again. "Don't call anyone." He didn't bother to say, 'I'm fine,' because, well, that would be lying, but he brought up his right arm, extended it fully, then carefully brought his index finger to his nose. See, that side worked! Then he brought up his left arm, his left arm, his…

"John! What the hell!"

John bit the inside of his mouth hard, then bit some more, but he couldn't actually talk while doing that so he stopped, sucked in a deeper breath than he'd been taking, and said, "I wouldn't be able to race cars if someone chopped off my arm."

"What?" Rodney looked like he was actually thinking this over. "Well, actually, you could. Your left arm?"

John nodded.

"How far down?"

John decided not to answer that one.

"Well," said Rodney, "since you're right-handed, it really wouldn't be very hard to build something that would let you hold the controller and steer at the same time. Actually, I can think of three approaches of various degrees of complexity off the top of my head. No, four, if you don't mind me putting electrodes in your skull - you could go completely hands-free! You wouldn't mind that, right? And that’s without using Ancient tech. Who knows what we could…"

John blinked, and - well, yeah, come to think, there were a couple of easy ways… Ways that didn't involve drilling into his brain, because, well, been-there-done-that with Rodney, and, just, no.

"So, catch me up here," Rodney said. "You decided to collapse because of, what, an engineering thought experiment?"

"It was the damn AI," John said. It was actually easier to say than he thought it would be. "Played with my head some."

"And didn't put your psyche back the way it found it. How typical of it."

Rodney moved to John's left side. "Okay, give me your hand."

"I really don't…" John started, but he wasn't sure what it was he really didn't, so he left the statement hanging and didn't stop Rodney from pulling his left hand into both of his.

Rodney inspected the top of his hand, then the bottom. "Looks here to me," he said. Then he slapped it. Kind of hard.

"Yowsh!" John drew his hand back.

"That's for being an idiot," said Rodney. "Your best friends are geniuses. You lose an arm, we'll build you a new one. Better, stronger, faster. Okay?"

"Yah," said John. "Got it."

They stood up, and Rodney retrieved their controllers. Before handing John his, though, he reached and squeezed his shoulder quickly. "You okay?"

John nodded. "Good enough." Because he was.

* * * THE END * * *

All feedback welcomed, here, or to helenw@murphnet.org.

More fic at http://www.murphnet.org/fanfic

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