![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321Title: Lift the Burden
Author: Lobelia;![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lobelia321
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John Sheppard / Rodney McKay.
Spoiler (and possibly pre-requisite): SGA 3x14. 'The Tao of Rodney'.
Length: 1,500 words
Summary: John gives Rodney a meditation lesson.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I did not invent these characters or this storyworld. This is an amateur story, not written for profit. No coypright infringement is intended.
Feedback: Yes, please, even if it's just one word! Don't be shy. I love it all. And I reply to it all. *g*
Warning: Behind the cut, there be spoilerish fic and pics for SGA 3x14.
~~
Lift the Burden
by Lobelia
John sat on the bed. Rodney lay on the floor. Candles painted shadows on the walls.
"Rodney. Just lie back and breathe. And no talking!"
(But when he's not talking, I'm thinking. And thinking is bad. Because when I'm thinking he knows what I'm thinking because he can do that mindreading thing. So it's better not to be thinking. Best even, to be thinking about something that I'm not really thinking about. Like, thinking about a...)
"Ferris wheel. Imagine you're on a ferris wheel!"
"A ferris wheel?"
(Going round and round and up and down, clockwise and counter-clockwise, and then we stop at the top, swinging gently to and fro, and fro and to. Ferris wheels always stop at the top so that the people can rock their seats and they can screech and pretend to be frightened and then the other person can put their arm round them and pretend to comfort them, that's the whole point of ferris wheels, and if you stay up there long enough you can get up to quite a bit of... But that is not what I am thinking about!!)
"Beach. Imagine you're on a nice beach. With the blue sky overhead."
"Blue sky? Beach?"
"And don't talk."
(Because on a beach there's no need to talk. You just lie there in the hot sand and you listen to the ocean, all those waves coming and going, going and coming, coming and coming... No, I am not thinking about that!)
"What are the readings like now? On the monitor?"
"Don't worry about the readings, Rodney! Lift the burden."
(Right. Beach. Waves. Wind. Surf. So you can go surfing. That's right. Action, adventure, shooting the waves. Shooting... No, I am not thinking about that! And I'm on the beach with... some blonde! Very, definitely totally blonde. And I am not thinking about anything else. I am not thinking about... Jesus, what is he doing now?)
"What are you doing now?"
"Sh. I thought we weren't supposed to talk."
"Yes but..."
"I was just getting there. You know, I was just reaching something there. I'm sure my readings are way down. Just let me see that laptop. No, don't let me see that laptop. I was doing so well. That beach thing, you know, that was a really cool idea."
"Lie back down on the floor, Rodney."
"That beach thing was great. My back hurts. This floor is cold. Move over."
(Well, if he's going to lie on my bed, then I will have to sit on the floor. I'll just shift my ass and my laptop and no, don't get entangled in the cables of the headset, you stupid... I should slap myself. Now, here I am, on the floor, leaning against the bed, and now I can't see Rodney. That is better. Definitely better. Should be much better because seeing him lying down at my feet like that was a little... No, I am not thinking about that!)
"What are you thinking about, John?"
(Nothing. I am thinking about nothing. No, I am thinking about golf. Yes, golf! Where is that magazine? Size sixes and chip shots and bunkers. Teeing off. Club heads. Graphite golf shafts and tempered steel golf... shafts... And... Shafts. What? No. No. Fairways, roughs, eighteenth holes.
Holes. Shafts.
It's no good not seeing Rodney because that makes me think about Rodney more than if I were seeing him. It makes me wonder what he looks like, lying on my bed. If he's lying on his side, but no, he wouldn't be lying on his side, he always lies on his back. If he's got his hands folded across his front or if they're down by his sides, and yes, I think they're down by his sides because I can just feel one of them behind my head, against my hair. Sitting here on the floor, with my head against the mattress and Rodney's hand against my head.
I think. I think that's his hand. I don't know if it is.
But I am not thinking about Rodney's hand. I am not!)
"Are we still doing that beach thing, John?"
(And why is his voice so drowsy? Is he falling asleep or something? Like Ronon? Teyla's always going on about that, teasing Ronon, how he's forever falling asleep in her meditation lessons. Well, she should be the one giving Rodney a lesson in meditation. What do I know about it? I'm no good at it. Emptying my mind and all that. My mind is full of stuff. It can't stop thinking. And the more I think, the more he'll be able to know what I think. The more he'll be able to see right into me and tell everything about me. He'll roll around on that bed of mine and he'll say... He'll say...)
"Hm. That's interesting."
(What? What's interesting? Quick, think about... Eagle. Par. Double bogey. No, think about... Buttons. Buttons with two holes. And buttons with four holes. And stitches along button holes. Bo-o-oring. Nothing to see here. No interesting thoughts at all. Jesus, I wish I'd taken up embroidery or something, then I could be thinking about, I don't know. What?)
"Very interesting."
(Cross stitches. And thimbles. Don't they have thimbles? And they put their fingers inside those thimbles, slip them right in, very snug... No! Golf! Birdies!)
"And kind of weird."
(It is his hand against my head. Definitely is his hand. I should move my head.)
"You know, just now, when I was going into the world of that beach? The one with the blue sky?"
(I'm opening my mouth here but no sound comes out. The candles flicker, and the laptop shines its shiny blue light, and the room hums in that way it has. I can feel my pulse against the leather wrist band. I can feel Rodney's hand against my hair. On my hair. What the fuck is he doing?
Why can't I move? Am I paralysed?
Did he just say something? There seems to be some sort of roaring in my ears. Ocean waves. Roaring.
Yeah, think about ocean waves.
Don't think about Rodney's hand.
It's so quiet in here.)
"Just now, when I was imagining that beach."
"... Y... eah?"
"And then I was sure I was imagining the same beach that you were imagining. There was some sort of, well, not mind-meld, that would be silly but I could tell what you were thinking so it was as if you were showing me what you were thinking."
(No, I wasn't. I'm not. I mean. Buttons!
God. Nape. Fingertips.)
"So I was thinking about the same beach that you were thinking about. With the hot sand, and the blue sky, and the hot sun, and the palm trees..."
(What palm trees?)
"...and the blonde, it was as if I were right there, on your beach, with you."
(The candles smell of wax. My pulse feels funny.)
"This may sound odd but perhaps it was the meditation kicking in. Was it the meditation kicking in? It was kind of serene, you know, on that beach of yours. And difficult to tell apart my thoughts from your thoughts."
(Is my heart about to stand still?
Where are his fingers now?
Oh Christ.)
"They were all going back and forth, very weird, I'd never really paid attention to thoughts in that way. Of course, I've got experience with hallucinations, and then there was that whole mindprobe thing but this was different. Is different."
(Is?
Christ, Rodney, take your fingers out from underneath my collar or I won't be able to...
...answer for my actions.
Or something. Or move. I won't be able to move.
There goes the laptop. Clunk. Slipped right out of my hands.)
"Because I'm in your mind but I was already in your mind. Do you see what I mean? I came into your mind, I didn't mean to, it's not something I can always block out; and when you told me to relax and all that, I guess my mindblocking muscles or whatever they are relaxed as well and there I was, standing on your beach. And there I was already, lying on that beach. It was like meeting myself. I mean, I can see what you were doing, you were making me blonde, but I could also see the thought underneath that thought, like a second layer, and the thought underneath that thought... What, hey what? J...?"
(.......)
"Wow."
(......)
"You, um..."
(...... Yeah. For a minute there, I wasn't thinking. I really wasn't.
And now we're kissing.
What do you know?
And fuck it, I don't have to be a mutant genius to know what he's thinking right now. What he wants to do right now.
Which is exactly what I want to do. God, it's exactly what I...
......)
"....."
~~~
THE END.
14/15 December 2006.
All original parts of this story © to Lobelia.
Word length: 1,500.
~~~
Screencaps from 3x14 'Tao of Rodney', courtesy of the lovely Nightelf. Thanks toliviapenn for alerting me to the slashy potential of mind-reading. :-) And thanks to all the lovely feedbackers for my previous 'Tao' fic who spurred me on to newer ventures. This is my second fic in nine hours... *wipes brow* I blame 3x14 entirely.
Url of this page: http://lobelia321.livejournal.com/531375.html
Author: Lobelia;
lobelia321Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John Sheppard / Rodney McKay.
Spoiler (and possibly pre-requisite): SGA 3x14. 'The Tao of Rodney'.
Length: 1,500 words
Summary: John gives Rodney a meditation lesson.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I did not invent these characters or this storyworld. This is an amateur story, not written for profit. No coypright infringement is intended.
Feedback: Yes, please, even if it's just one word! Don't be shy. I love it all. And I reply to it all. *g*
Warning: Behind the cut, there be spoilerish fic and pics for SGA 3x14.
~~
Lift the Burden
by Lobelia
John sat on the bed. Rodney lay on the floor. Candles painted shadows on the walls.
"Rodney. Just lie back and breathe. And no talking!"
(But when he's not talking, I'm thinking. And thinking is bad. Because when I'm thinking he knows what I'm thinking because he can do that mindreading thing. So it's better not to be thinking. Best even, to be thinking about something that I'm not really thinking about. Like, thinking about a...)
"Ferris wheel. Imagine you're on a ferris wheel!"
"A ferris wheel?"
(Going round and round and up and down, clockwise and counter-clockwise, and then we stop at the top, swinging gently to and fro, and fro and to. Ferris wheels always stop at the top so that the people can rock their seats and they can screech and pretend to be frightened and then the other person can put their arm round them and pretend to comfort them, that's the whole point of ferris wheels, and if you stay up there long enough you can get up to quite a bit of... But that is not what I am thinking about!!)
"Beach. Imagine you're on a nice beach. With the blue sky overhead."
"Blue sky? Beach?"
"And don't talk."
(Because on a beach there's no need to talk. You just lie there in the hot sand and you listen to the ocean, all those waves coming and going, going and coming, coming and coming... No, I am not thinking about that!)
"What are the readings like now? On the monitor?"
"Don't worry about the readings, Rodney! Lift the burden."
(Right. Beach. Waves. Wind. Surf. So you can go surfing. That's right. Action, adventure, shooting the waves. Shooting... No, I am not thinking about that! And I'm on the beach with... some blonde! Very, definitely totally blonde. And I am not thinking about anything else. I am not thinking about... Jesus, what is he doing now?)
"What are you doing now?"
"Sh. I thought we weren't supposed to talk."
"Yes but..."
"I was just getting there. You know, I was just reaching something there. I'm sure my readings are way down. Just let me see that laptop. No, don't let me see that laptop. I was doing so well. That beach thing, you know, that was a really cool idea."
"Lie back down on the floor, Rodney."
"That beach thing was great. My back hurts. This floor is cold. Move over."
(Well, if he's going to lie on my bed, then I will have to sit on the floor. I'll just shift my ass and my laptop and no, don't get entangled in the cables of the headset, you stupid... I should slap myself. Now, here I am, on the floor, leaning against the bed, and now I can't see Rodney. That is better. Definitely better. Should be much better because seeing him lying down at my feet like that was a little... No, I am not thinking about that!)
"What are you thinking about, John?"
(Nothing. I am thinking about nothing. No, I am thinking about golf. Yes, golf! Where is that magazine? Size sixes and chip shots and bunkers. Teeing off. Club heads. Graphite golf shafts and tempered steel golf... shafts... And... Shafts. What? No. No. Fairways, roughs, eighteenth holes.
Holes. Shafts.
It's no good not seeing Rodney because that makes me think about Rodney more than if I were seeing him. It makes me wonder what he looks like, lying on my bed. If he's lying on his side, but no, he wouldn't be lying on his side, he always lies on his back. If he's got his hands folded across his front or if they're down by his sides, and yes, I think they're down by his sides because I can just feel one of them behind my head, against my hair. Sitting here on the floor, with my head against the mattress and Rodney's hand against my head.
I think. I think that's his hand. I don't know if it is.
But I am not thinking about Rodney's hand. I am not!)
"Are we still doing that beach thing, John?"
(And why is his voice so drowsy? Is he falling asleep or something? Like Ronon? Teyla's always going on about that, teasing Ronon, how he's forever falling asleep in her meditation lessons. Well, she should be the one giving Rodney a lesson in meditation. What do I know about it? I'm no good at it. Emptying my mind and all that. My mind is full of stuff. It can't stop thinking. And the more I think, the more he'll be able to know what I think. The more he'll be able to see right into me and tell everything about me. He'll roll around on that bed of mine and he'll say... He'll say...)
"Hm. That's interesting."
(What? What's interesting? Quick, think about... Eagle. Par. Double bogey. No, think about... Buttons. Buttons with two holes. And buttons with four holes. And stitches along button holes. Bo-o-oring. Nothing to see here. No interesting thoughts at all. Jesus, I wish I'd taken up embroidery or something, then I could be thinking about, I don't know. What?)
"Very interesting."
(Cross stitches. And thimbles. Don't they have thimbles? And they put their fingers inside those thimbles, slip them right in, very snug... No! Golf! Birdies!)
"And kind of weird."
(It is his hand against my head. Definitely is his hand. I should move my head.)
"You know, just now, when I was going into the world of that beach? The one with the blue sky?"
(I'm opening my mouth here but no sound comes out. The candles flicker, and the laptop shines its shiny blue light, and the room hums in that way it has. I can feel my pulse against the leather wrist band. I can feel Rodney's hand against my hair. On my hair. What the fuck is he doing?
Why can't I move? Am I paralysed?
Did he just say something? There seems to be some sort of roaring in my ears. Ocean waves. Roaring.
Yeah, think about ocean waves.
Don't think about Rodney's hand.
It's so quiet in here.)
"Just now, when I was imagining that beach."
"... Y... eah?"
"And then I was sure I was imagining the same beach that you were imagining. There was some sort of, well, not mind-meld, that would be silly but I could tell what you were thinking so it was as if you were showing me what you were thinking."
(No, I wasn't. I'm not. I mean. Buttons!
God. Nape. Fingertips.)
"So I was thinking about the same beach that you were thinking about. With the hot sand, and the blue sky, and the hot sun, and the palm trees..."
(What palm trees?)
"...and the blonde, it was as if I were right there, on your beach, with you."
(The candles smell of wax. My pulse feels funny.)
"This may sound odd but perhaps it was the meditation kicking in. Was it the meditation kicking in? It was kind of serene, you know, on that beach of yours. And difficult to tell apart my thoughts from your thoughts."
(Is my heart about to stand still?
Where are his fingers now?
Oh Christ.)
"They were all going back and forth, very weird, I'd never really paid attention to thoughts in that way. Of course, I've got experience with hallucinations, and then there was that whole mindprobe thing but this was different. Is different."
(Is?
Christ, Rodney, take your fingers out from underneath my collar or I won't be able to...
...answer for my actions.
Or something. Or move. I won't be able to move.
There goes the laptop. Clunk. Slipped right out of my hands.)
"Because I'm in your mind but I was already in your mind. Do you see what I mean? I came into your mind, I didn't mean to, it's not something I can always block out; and when you told me to relax and all that, I guess my mindblocking muscles or whatever they are relaxed as well and there I was, standing on your beach. And there I was already, lying on that beach. It was like meeting myself. I mean, I can see what you were doing, you were making me blonde, but I could also see the thought underneath that thought, like a second layer, and the thought underneath that thought... What, hey what? J...?"
(.......)
"Wow."
(......)
"You, um..."
(...... Yeah. For a minute there, I wasn't thinking. I really wasn't.
And now we're kissing.
What do you know?
And fuck it, I don't have to be a mutant genius to know what he's thinking right now. What he wants to do right now.
Which is exactly what I want to do. God, it's exactly what I...
......)
"....."
~~~
THE END.
14/15 December 2006.
All original parts of this story © to Lobelia.
Word length: 1,500.
~~~
Screencaps from 3x14 'Tao of Rodney', courtesy of the lovely Nightelf. Thanks to
liviapenn for alerting me to the slashy potential of mind-reading. :-) And thanks to all the lovely feedbackers for my previous 'Tao' fic who spurred me on to newer ventures. This is my second fic in nine hours... *wipes brow* I blame 3x14 entirely.Url of this page: http://lobelia321.livejournal.com/531375.html