Recuperation
by
Bluespirit

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: G
Summary: Rodney's had enough of the infirmary.
Genre: comfort, romance
Spoilers: none
Word count: ~ 660




Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. The characters and universe are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions and the Sci-Fi Channel. This fic is meant solely for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.

Notes:
1. This is a prompt ficlet for Liresius who wanted 'Some Wounded!Rodney Carer!John h/c, pretty please?' 
2. Thanks, as always, to the fabulous Lantean_drift for the beta.

“Okay, just a couple more steps, buddy,” John said as he keyed open the door and helped Rodney into his quarters. As much as he hated to admit it, John was pretty much the only thing keeping him standing right now and he’d be glad when he could finally lie down. Obviously, he’d fought tooth and nail with Carson to let him leave the infirmary, expounding at some length about the fact that he had recuperated perfectly well enough to sleep in his own bed, thank you very much. Though, in reality, he still felt as weak as a kitten. In the past, he would have happily stayed there, eating jello and berating Carson until he was eventually kicked out - but things were different now. He’d argued so vociferously, not because his own bed was any more comfortable - despite having spent a fortune on that damn prescription mattress - but because of what was in his bed; namely, John.

“Thank God,” Rodney sighed in relief; the walk from the infirmary had felt like miles. He sank down and smiled gratefully as John knelt by the bed and unlaced his boots. “I don’t think I could’ve stayed in there for a minute longer without throwing something.”

John paused for a moment and raised an eyebrow. “So, that pillow just levitated itself at my head then?”

Rodney smothered a tired chuckle and let himself be undressed and eased under the covers. “That doesn’t count. You deserved it - and you know it.”

“Hey! All I suggested was that maybe you should be a little more… open-minded… to new scientific advancements,” John said slowly, his eyes twinkling in a suspiciously straight face.

“You wanted me to build an Infinite Improbability Drive and install it in ‘jumper one!” Rodney spluttered. “Proving, yet again, that all those years endangering your life with high risk activities like flying and Ferris wheels have eroded what few brain cells you actually possess, Colonel Crazy-Person!”

“You’re right, Rodney,” John nodded seriously, before adding with a cheesy grin, “a time-travelling De Lorean would be so much cooler.”

“See? My point exactly!” Rodney laughed, and collapsed back against the pillows. “You’re insane, you know that, right?”

“I know,” John grinned, and leaned down to kiss Rodney lightly on the forehead. “Now go to sleep.”

“But I thought you were staying? To, you know… keep an eye on my physical and emotional well-being?” Rodney said, his pout only half faked - he really did want John to stay. He’d been sick for three days with a virus that he’d picked up off-world, the flu-like symptoms burning through his system and leaving him exhausted. He’d had no time alone with John at all, ever-present, officious medical personnel always wanting blood samples or temperature readings or whatever other ridiculous numbers they felt inclined to make note of as they stuck weird devices into his ear.

“You need to get some rest and I don’t want Carson kicking my ass because you’ve worn yourself out,” John said, but he leaned down and kissed Rodney softly on the mouth. “I have some stuff to do and then I’ll be back.”

Rodney wanted to argue but he could feel himself falling victim to the softness of the pillow and the familiar, comforting scent of John clinging to the sheet. “Don’t be long,” he mumbled and fell asleep between one breath and the next.

~

It was dark outside when Rodney roused, still half asleep and burrowed under the covers. A warm arm snaked around his waist and he wriggled back happily, instinctively moulding himself to the lean body spooning against him.

“M’okay?” he yawned, sliding his fingers to entwine with John’s where they lay against the swell of his hip.

“Everything’s good,” John whispered. He pressed a kiss to Rodney’s ear and settled back, the stubbled curve of one cheek resting against Rodney’s shoulder.

“Thas’ good,” Rodney echoed and closed his eyes.


The end

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