Title: Radio Silence
Pairing: Stackhouse/Markham
Rating: no porn
Spoilers: The Brotherhood
Date: April 5, 2005
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
Note: Thanks to Kagey for a fantastic beta.
It reads so much better now. :-)
I think I got the idea from Nemo, so thanks to her for letting me have it.
Also, I know Stackhouse wasn't in the control room at the exact moment John got back to Atlantis,
so this takes place a little later. Feedback welcome at coreopsis@gmail.com
"Sergeant, come with me." John turned and walked out of the control room, knowing Stackhouse would follow, and went straight to his seldom-used office. Instead of taking a seat behind the desk, he leaned against the front of it and pointed Stackhouse to the visitor's chair. This set-up was more casual, more friendly than commanding officer to subordinate, even if that's the way it had to be.
"I won't ask you, Sergeant, and we both know you don't have to tell me. In fact, I'd prefer that you don't unless you feel it's absolutely necessary." John paused to find the next words to say and when he did. "I'm sorry about Markham. I know you were...especially close, but he'll be missed by all of us." He made the mistake of looking directly into Stackhouse's eyes when he said it.
Stackhouse's face was stiff and pale, but his eyes burned. John had seen that look before and every time he had, he'd hoped he'd never see it again. This time, he knew that he would because the Wraith were coming and there would be more losses and not one of them would be acceptable. Not to John and not to any of the people left behind who would have someone they loved torn away from them.
Stackhouse was trying to hide his pain and grief exactly as he'd been trained to do, but John knew it was there. He'd seen it before, felt it, had even caused it himself a few times. It cut him up, but he knew how hollow Stackhouse felt, how cold and lost and useless. How angry he'd be at the Wraith-- and at the ones who had survived when Markham hadn't. John knew that there was nothing he could say to ease Stackhouse's suffering, but there was one thing he could offer. "If you need to take a few minutes for yourself...some privacy...you're welcome to use this office a while. I'd like to make you believe that it'll be a lot better soon, and it will, but I know how hard it is right now. Not to be able to say much publicly, to have to...hide certain things." There was a flicker in Stackhouse's eyes and John nodded.
"You know Doctor Heightmeyer is a civilian and bound by doctor/patient privilege so you can talk to her with no repercussions. And, if it gets really bad, you can..." John stopped and wondered exactly when he'd lost his mind. He was about to open himself up to all kinds of trouble, but he couldn't quite stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "You can talk to me. I...uh...I understand more than...well, I understand."
The knowing look in Stackhouse's eyes was almost worse than the pain that it replaced, so John crossed his arms over his chest and stood up straight. Looming over Stackhouse didn't make him feel any better, so he walked over to the wall and stared into one of the little windows that opened onto the pipes running all through the city. The bubbling water was sort of hypnotic if John stared at it long enough. It wasn't as good for clearing his head as flying was, but it came closer than anything else he'd ever done that kept his feet on the ground.
Feeling inadequate and out of words, John took a deep breath and uncrossed his arms. He turned to Stackhouse again and licked his lips. "Take all the time you need, Sergeant," he said, with a firm nod. But he knew they didn't have all the time Stackhouse or any of the rest of them would need.
John walked out of his office and was halfway back to the control room when he realized that Stackhouse had never said a word. Just for a second, he stopped and wondered if he'd gotten it all wrong. But he remembered that horrible dead look in Stackhouse's eyes and knew he'd gotten it right, as much as he might wish he hadn't.
The End.
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