From Childhood's Hour--by Frostfire
Title: From Childhood's Hour
Author: Frostfire
Rating: PG-13
Category: Vignette. 221 words.
Notes: I stared at this forever, trying to think of ways to improve it, and was finally like, "screw it," and posted. I also sort of wanted it to be longer, but it refused to go beyond this one core scene. *shrug* Also, title is, again, from Poe--this time, "Alone".

In the settling dust, Major Sheppard’s hand lands on Rodney’s leg. “McKay?” It travels up, and Rodney’s too busy panicking about the cave-in to realize where it’s going, to notice exactly where his pants are ripped—

The hand freezes on his left thigh, skin against bare skin. “McKay. You okay?”

Breathe. In. Out. Panic attacks bad. Hyperventilation bad. It’ll use up the air—don’t think about the air. “I’m okay.” He sounds like a Wraith—don’t laugh.

A pause. Rodney gradually realizes that Sheppard’s hand is—oh, shit. He’s panicking again. Too obvious, too sharp, too regular, too many—

“Those are some scars you’ve got here, McKay,” says Sheppard quietly.

Line upon line upon line. He wasn’t a stupid kid, he knew better than to cut where anyone would see. If the geeky kid never wears shorts, never goes swimming, no one’s going to notice, no one’s going to think he’s hiding anything—he remembers, slick blood and hot sharp pain, sitting on the toilet seat and shuddering while his parents screamed in the kitchen. He could blank it out, blank everything out, until afterward, when he’d be on his knees cleaning blood off the bathroom floor, with his leg burning everything into stark bright clarity—

He needs to say…something. The collapsed cave is dark around them. Sheppard’s hand doesn’t move.

end
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