Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Disclaimer: Sadly, not mine...
Words: 100 x 3
Prompt: #21: Mulled Cider
Summary: Not how they planned to leave the party
Another Advent drabble... and I'm woefully behind on thanking folk for their kind words... know every comment is cherished!
"Don't!" John started to shout but it was too late.
Rodney's eyes got big for a moment, before he dropped the cup he just drank from. He started wheezing and collapsed in a chair.
John scrabbled through his bag, purposeful and focused. Now wasn't the time to lose it.
"Got it!" He grabbed the epi-pen he always carried.
Rodney was barely breathing, eyes closed and face turning red. John stuck the epi-pen on Rodney's thigh and held it there while he counted slowly to ten.
Rodney took a deeper breath.
"Hang on," John said calmly. "Help is on the way."
"Fucking mulled cider," Rodney bitched from his hospital bed. "Hides the citrus."
John took his hand. "Scared the heck out of me," he admitted. "Even when I know what to do, it's scary to see you like that."
"Scary from this side, too, you know!" Rodney retorted. But he didn't let go of John's hand. "When can I get out of here?"
"Soon as the doc clears you," John replied.
Rodney plucked at the sheets. "I guess."
"Well, we can skip the rest of the SGC parties," John offered.
Rodney perked up at that. "We can go home?" he grinned.
It took too long, but they finally escaped the infirmary. John drove while Rodney dozed in the passenger seat.
"Hey!" John said softly. "We're home."
He guided Rodney into the house, dropping belongings haphazardly by the front door. The washing up was just as haphazard, bed and sleep the only goal.
John wrapped himself about Rodney, who had fallen asleep as soon as he hit the bed. John lay awake too long, aware that he had almost lost Rodney, yet again, to something he couldn't control.
If Rodney's t-shirt was damp in the morning, neither of them commented on it.
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