Perspectives 1.4
Thirty-Eight Minutes: John

Orithain

Disclaimers: Do you think I’d be sitting here if I actually owned them?

I am so fucked. So completely and utterly, seriously fucked. Actually, I’m so far beyond fucked that they don’t have a word for how bad off I am. I can’t believe it. I’d shake my head at life’s little ironies if I could, but there’s this damn bug attached to my neck, sucking my life out, that won’t let me.

But that’s not bad enough, not for John Sheppard in the Pegasus galaxy. Oh hell no. Let’s make life even more interesting. Now my puddle jumper’s stuck in the damn gate. Oh, and let’s not forget that a wormhole can’t be maintained for longer than thirty-eight minutes. Thank you, Rodney, for reminding us all of that salient detail.

Nope, fucked doesn’t even begin to cover this situation.

Gotta love this galaxy; just when you think things have gotten as bad as they possibly can get, it finds a way to screw you over some more. But it made one mistake. My secret weapon. Rodney McKay.

He freaked for a while there, perfectly understandable really, but there’s something I figured out a while back. He worries about me. About everyone really, though he’d never admit it, but me especially. As soon as I reminded him about my little parasitic friend, he calmed down so fast it nearly gave me whiplash watching him.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him right now, but hell, when a man’s got less than half an hour to live, maybe a lot less in my case, he’s allowed to stop lying to himself. I think about McKay a lot. Too bad I’m never going to get the chance to decide if I want to do something about that.

They’re all trying so hard, the people back on Atlantis trying to help us all, Rodney trying to do the impossible and figure out a way to control the jumper from back here, Teyla and Ford trying to get this damn bug off me, but things just keep getting worse.

I don’t want to die, but I almost wish they’d stop trying. That hurt, which is some trick considering I can’t feel much of anything. And now we have no way of preventing explosive decompression when the wormhole shuts down, not that it’s going to matter to me. I’ll be dead.

Wait a minute.

I’ll be dead.

Well, they didn’t like it, but Carson agreed with me. It’s the only thing to do. I just wish... Damn, his eyes are blue.

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