Fic: Winter Discontent (Lorne/Parrish)

[wickedwords]

Title: Winter Discontent
Author: Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)
Characters: Lorne/Parrish
Summary: As he watched Sanchez hit the symbols on the gate for the tenth time, Lorne knew they were utterly, utterly fucked.
Other Info: H/c, 2500 words

A/N: Many thanks to both z_rayne and sherrold for their betas; all the remaining errors are my own. This story originated with packmentality's prompts for the atlantisbasics challenge, but it quickly veered away from what she wanted; I ended up setting this story aside to write another, but I loved the idea behind it and wanted to go back to finish it. I just had no idea that would take me nearly six months to do that.


Winter Discontent
When Major Lorne had stepped through the gate and found frost on his cheeks, he should have known something was wrong. The first SG teams back on Earth had noted a similar problem, but as the gate interface improved and the bugs were worked out of the system, the frost stopped being reported; it became almost legendary. Lorne had figured the frost here was simply because the planet was freakin' cold.

As he watched Sanchez hit the symbols on the gate for the tenth time, he knew they were utterly, utterly fucked. "Back to the village, people!" he yelled over the rising wind. "Move!" He directed the last yell at Parrish, who looked ready to hyperventilate. Lorne wasn't that concerned -- he figured that when they missed check in, Sheppard would mount a rescue op, which would ultimately result in the Daedalus appearing in a few days; a week tops. Not the best solution, certainly -- the best would have been for the damn gate to work the first time -- but certainly not the worst.

Imprisonment, being taken as hostage, having a buddy skinned and strung up like a side of beef, now, those things were worse. Compared with that, this ice-age imposter would be a cakewalk.

***

By the time he reached the village, Nick was more than half-frozen. Both Sanchez and Parrish looked a little blue, and Cadman had actual icicles forming in her hair. Nick set himself down next to David, wishing that he could wrap them both up in a blanket and share a little body heat. Just for the warmth. As they all huddled in front of the firepit in the council hall, Malaon, their host, nodded sympathetically. "Before each large storm, the ancestor's ring goes silent. No one may come in nor go out until the Orut has passed."

"And how long does that last?" Nick asked.

"Two, three days," Malaon shrugged, the embroidery on his sleeves sparkling in the lamp light. "I suggest you stay here and rest, like the others."

Nick shifted his P90, glancing around the room. "Looks like you're already pretty packed."

"There are few who have enough wood, or whose homes are warm enough when the Orut rises. This place, though," he glanced up at the domed roof over head, painted with leafy vines and dull blue flowers, "was built to withstand its force. Not a single breath of the Orut will reach us here." He nodded at the villagers lying on the floor in the long room. "We have stores enough for all. Be welcome."

"It's not like we have a lot of choice," Sanchez mumbled, setting his gear down on the floor.

"Try to be a little considerate, okay?" Nick squeezed Sanchez's shoulder in passing. "How about you, Doc?" he said, turning to look at Parrish. "You going to be okay?"

"I still have my samples," Parrish said gruffly. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, well, maybe you ought to sit a little closer toward the fire, anyway. I don't want a giant popsicle on my hands come morning."

Parrish snorted. "I'm not that cold."

"Sure look it to me." Nick took Parrish’s hands in his, examining them. Chilled, red and cracked from the weather, they looked pretty bad. "Maybe I should get you some hand warmers?"

Parrish's gaze caught his, a shy smile glancing across his lips, and Nick felt his stomach turn. God, yeah. Hand holding. Bad idea. He glanced over at Cadman and Sanchez, who were talking with the locals, getting a feel for the place. His heart rate was racing as he pulled his hands away, and turned to look at the fire.

The fire was almost as blue as the color of David's eyes.

***

Nick bedded down next to Sanchez near the front door, while insisting that David sleep next to the fire. Cadman had to bed down with the women -- they had a screen set up that divided the hall at night -- and she was taking a dawn watch. Supposedly, Nick had the midnight watch, but he didn't think it would matter, as he was having a hard time getting to sleep.

"Major?" David asked softly. "Can't sleep?"

"No." Nick turned to his side, away from the fire. Within minutes, he heard a strange, shuffling noise, and rolled back to look at it. David resettled his sleeping bag next to Nick, so that he was pressed to his side. Sanchez never stirred.

***

By the second day, the place was smelling a little ripe. More wood was tossed on the fire, a different kind of tree that produced a rich, peaty scent and orange flames, rather than the brilliant blue from the day before. Nick frowned as he looked at it; last night's threatened headache had bloomed with the bright light, leaving him feeling utterly drained.

"Close your eyes," David said, sliding down next to Nick and handing him a jug of water, "and take this," He ripped open one of the analgesic packets and dropped the tablets into Nick's hand. "It's the extra-strength variety, with extra caffeine."

"Thanks." Taking the pills, Nick nodded at him, and David ducked his head.

"Uh, yes. It should help. Probably."

The girl coughed again, and David glanced at his bag of sample plants, pulling it close.

"It is the storm," Malaon said. "It always brings with it a headache and fever, though most survive." He nodded at Sanchez, who was now coughing. "That is the first sign."

David sat back on his heels, nibbling at his lower lip. "Do you mind if I take a look around?"

"Please. You are an herbalist, yes?"

"I know plants anyway."

"If you could help ease their breathing...." Malaon let out a heavy sigh. "We would be most grateful."

"I'll see what I can try," David said grimly.

***

"I don't like this," David muttered. "Something's not right." He gestured at the room, where at least half the people were coughing. "When I worked for the Weyerhaeuser R&D lab, we had to visit some of the paper mills for one of the experiments we were running with Southern Pine. I had the bad luck to be stuck there during a chlorine release, and this place reminds me of that."

"Chlorine? These people can barely make salt." Speaking made Nick cough again.

"No, listen. It was only a drill, but they didn't tell us that at first. We sat huddled in the conference room, gasmasks over our faces, grimly sealing up the cracks around the door so that no air could get inside." David shivered, glancing around the room. "This place reminds me of that."

"You think there's a volcanic gas or something?" Nick's head hurt, and everything sounded like it was swimming through water to get to him.

"Maybe. I don't know." He held a cup of water out, and Nick drank it eagerly, trying not to notice the concern etched on David's face.

***

Nick wasn't sure how much time had passed before a large shouting match roused him from his doze. He could hear someone shouting, and saw the Atlantean uniform mixed in with the villagers' homespun, so he forced himself to his feet to see what was up.

David was in the middle of the women's area, talking with -- well, yelling at -- the women surrounding Cadmen. "We have to get her out of here. We have to get all of them out." David's voice rang through the room now, a weird echo quality to it. "If we don't, they will all die."

"But the storm--"

"Don't freak out on me, David, please," Nick said, grabbing David's arm. "I know this place creeps you out, but it's okay, really." He gestured at the medical kit Cadman carried. "I don't think we have anything like...Valium or anything like that, but there are some of those homeopathic things that Dr. Kalyan swears by." He dropped the arm he held as David looked at him anxiously. "You could ask around. Maybe they've got something like chamomile tea...."

"I don't need a sedative." He seemed so calm, compared to five minutes ago. "We need to get everyone out."

"Look, a lot of guys don't like being shut in." Nick placed his hand over his chest. "I hate having MRIs done--"

"Don't patronize me, Major." David's voice was scathing. "I'm not claustrophobic. They are having trouble breathing, and I think the fresh air might do them some good."

Casting a glance at the window on the far wall, which showed nothing but ice, wind, and snowfall, Nick shook his pounding head and immediately regretted it. "Knock yourself out," Nick said, already moving back toward the sleeping bags. "I'm going to get some shut-eye, and I suggest you do too."

***

The world rolled around Nick as he tried to sit up. His head pounded continuously--the analgesics couldn't make a dent in the pain anymore--and he was certain he was going to throw up. A huge rock sat on his chest, making every breath hurt; he wasn't sure, exactly, what had roused him again.

David was leaning over him, his hands stroking over and over Nick's face. "You've got to get out of here," he whispered. "Come on, put your arm around me, here we go." Then Nick was shakily standing on his feet, David's arm around his waist keeping him up. He tried to snag his weapon, and nearly fell; David grabbed it for him.

"It's the wood. Or the fire. The combination of the two." David said, moving them both toward the door, picking their route carefully across the mass of coughing, groaning people on the floor. "Like carbon monoxide poisoning. They made this place too air tight.....

Malaon stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "I cannot let you leave, I'm afraid. You will put us all at risk."

"They aren't dying from spirits and sprites or even a virus," David said, his voice defiant. "We've got to open a window or a door, something, and get fresh air in here, fast."

"If we do, then we all die of the cold." Malaon jutted his chin out, and folded his arms across his chest. "We cannot survive the Orut's winds, Doctor. I cannot take the risk."

Nick sank against David, trusting his conclusions. "We don't have to...keep it open the whole time. We could, I don't know, stagger the opening, leaving it open for a few minutes at a time, something to get some fresh air in here."

"We cannot survive the cold!" Malaon yelled. "The wind steals the air from our lungs, the heat from our bones. No individual can stand against its wrath."

"Just a few minutes every hour or so--" David pleaded.

"We cannot!" Malaon gestured to his guards.

"Fine." David eased Nick onto the floor with a whispered, "I'm sorry." He stood tall, his hands hanging laxly at his side, facing the wall of people determined to prevent his escape. Nick tried to focus, his head pounding, ears ringing, but he was so dizzy, he had to lie down.

"It's okay," Nick said, grinding the words out past the nausea. "Not long now."

Anguish flitted though David's eyes. "No, not long now. I'm sure." In one liquid movement, he grabbed the P90 that lay at Nick's side, and pointed it at the people assembled around the door. "I don't have to be terribly accurate with this to cause a lot of damage," he said calmly. "But you will all step aside and let us through."

"David--" Nick tried to grab David's leg, but missed.

David didn't even glance at him, all of his attention on the people standing near the door. "I want--" He paused, looking at the group, and then his head swiveled as he took in the rest of the room. There must have been close to a hundred people lying on the floor, just like Nick, Cadman, and Sanchez; only a third of the refugees were still standing.

Nick could see the beads of sweat running down David's face, the way his eyes were pinched and drawn, his skin pale. He had to be working on a hell of a headache himself.

Before anyone could move, David aimed and shattered the windows at the far end of the hall, while people screamed and ducked for cover. Within moments, Nick could feel the too-cold breeze from where he sat, the air caressing his hair just as David collapsed.

***

The not being dead thing was good, very, very good, and the ability to breathe made it even better. Nick took a deep breath, relishing the ease, before he opened his eyes.

"Welcome back, Major." Dr. Weir was sitting on a chair at the far end of the room, Colonel Sheppard standing next to her. "I hear you had quite an adventure."

Nick licked his lips, and a cup of water with a straw was instantly pushed into his hand; David was in the chair right at Nick's side. "I was pretty out of it, ma'am." He took a long sip of the water. God, that tasted good. "Parrish is the one who put it all together."

"Very good thinking," Dr. Beckett said, looking up from his clipboard. "Shooting the window kept everyone alive until the Daedalus could get there."

"Not very diplomatic, though," Elizabeth said, smiling. "Rodney was quite proud of you."

Sheppard nodded at David. "In his own way, of course."

"What happened to...." Nick coughed, and took another sip of water.

"The others?" Carson finished for him.

Nick nodded.

"We were able to beam down a medical team from the Daedalus to help most of them, while the rest of your team has all been allowed to return to quarters." Beckett patted Nick's arm. "You had some of the worst of it, I'm afraid."

"Debriefing can wait until you are better, Major," Elizabeth said. "Get some rest." With a nod, Elizabeth swept out of the room with Carson, leaving Sheppard and David behind.

After a few strained minutes, it was clear that some sort of stand off was happening. Sheppard was waiting for David to leave, and David was waiting for Sheppard. David looked like he was made of stone, sitting there heavily in the chair, fingers clasped together tight. Sheppard tilted his head and started to say something, then visibly let it go. Instead, he stood and nodded, ambling toward the infirmary door.

They were finally alone. "Don't ever do that to me again," David said, his hands clasped around Nick's, the familiar lights and colors of their infirmary around them.

"It was no picnic for me, either," Nick said.

"Good." David glanced around quickly, then gave Nick a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, when they finally let you out."

"Sounds good." Nick gave David's hand one last squeeze, and finally feel into a deep, pain-free sleep.






The End

Comments

[amalthia]

I liked this a lot. :)

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

You're sweet to say so. Thanks.

[logovo.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I enjoyed the idea of the story and how you set it down. Flowed pretty nicely :)

Oh, and I liked that stand-off at the end :)

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

One I had the idea, I knew Parrish had to be the main focus of the story, and that wasn't quite in the original guidelines. ;) Thanks!

[shara50.livejournal.com]

Cool story, I enjoyed it. Thanks:)

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

When I was writing this, every now and then I would just be overwhelmed by how outside the mainstream it was. I am really glad you liked it.

[mardahin.livejournal.com]

I really liked the background on David and placing him in a position where he's actively participating instead of acting the 'out-to-lunch' scientist. Wonderful rendering!!

*Shudders* Chlorine gas. *Shudders*

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

In my head--and, well, to my betas and some friends--I kept calling it the 'Parrish saves the day' story, as it was about time he did. ;) The chlorine gas thing is true, BTW. I worked at a papermill for a while, and everyone had gas masks in their desks, and instructions on where to go and what to do in case of a gas leak. Paper wouldn't be white without it.

[fatuorum.livejournal.com]

I really enjoyed this, especially because it's so easy between the two of them. Amusingly, it was only while rewatching Runner the other day that I realize Parrish sounds very competent and calm, instead of the skittish man that seems common around fandom. Your Parrish fits the former nicely.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thanks! It's really sort-of fun to write a character who had all of 2 minutes of screentime, as there's no worry about conflicting with canon. Fanon, though... ;)

[neery.livejournal.com]

I really like your competent Parrish, who recognises what needs to be done, and finds a way to rescue not only Nick and his team, but all of these people. (It's going to be a major headache when Nick finally gets a canon first name that's something different. Maybe we should inform the Powers That Be that "Nick" is fandom consensus by now. *g*)

I also liked Nick's protectivness towards Parrish, although it kept him from seeing when Parrish was really on to something, and not just panicking.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

You know, over on Gateworld, they use 'Marcus' as Lorne's first name, so my guess is that's the one we'll end up with. But I'd love it if they kept 'Nick' as it was popular at the time that Lorne would have been borne, whereas 'Marcus' is a more recent thing.

Thanks!

[buddleia.livejournal.com]

Really, really, nice story.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[melagan.livejournal.com]

You had me from the first sentence. frost on his cheeks *shivers*

but then /happy sigh/ You made Parrish be the one to save the day and I love you for it.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

I had watched the stargate pilot when I was thinking about this challenge, and I realized that when they stepped through the gate, they had ice on their cheeks and they were cold (same sort of thing happened in the movie, i think) They gave that up pretty quickly in the series, so I wondered why it went away. And that made me wonder why it just might come back. ;)

And competence is sexy. Parrish just needed to save the day.

[cetpar.livejournal.com]

Very nice!!

I liked your explanation for the frost on the cheeks in early Stargate. TPTB never explained that did they?

I also liked your Parrish--smart, quick thinking, competent in a crisis. I like how he saved the day, AND he didn't hurt anyone doing it.

Like someone else mentioned, the ease between Parrish and Lorne was great. I enjoyed the face off between Parrish and Sheppard about who was going to leave first, and I liked that Sheppard relented. I *think* he knows about Lorne & Parrish, but I'm really not sure.

I'm so happy you write Lorne/Parrish!

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Nope, they never explained the frost on the cheeks thing, so I think it's fair game for us to play with. *g*

Poor Parrish (that's the Parrish-in-my-head for this story) was totally freaked about what he needed to do, but he really couldn't hurt anyone. Fortunately my favorite tree-hugger is also pretty bright and figured a way out of it before I did.

Ye-ah, Sheppard kinda knows, but it's one of the things he deliberately doesn't think about; he doesn't allow himself to put two and two together, just as Lorne doesn't put two and some together about Sheppard.

Thanks!

[sarren.livejournal.com]

Yay! Very cool. Go Parrish!

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[kimberlite.livejournal.com]

Oh, I liked how different this was -- yay to Parrish saving the day, though it's unsettling to see the 'strong' characters weakened and unable to control events (which, in itself is cool). I also liked Sheppard deferring to Parrish.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

I do have a thing for 'weakening' the stronger character. It's a lot of fun. *g* Thanks!

[saffronhouse.livejournal.com]

Ah! Such a tight, believable world; I adore stories where the real peril comes from good people doing the best they know how. Lovely.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I really enjoy playing with these characters as they are more the 'common man' scale rather than the 'hero' one, and it's fun to rachet everything down to make it fit in that sort of story instead of a big Wagerian opera.

[purna.livejournal.com]

I liked this a lot. I loved the plotty, episode feel and the fact that (just as we see so often on the show) the scientist saves the day. :)

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Rodney wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks!

[pierson.livejournal.com]

Oh, this is just a lovely, lovely story. Excellent pacing, tightly plotted--why can't the show's writers do this more often?

The characterization was excellent--I believed every word that came out of their mouths, and I loved smart, competent Parrish.

Thank you so much for posting such a wonderful story!

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

How cool! I'm glad you liked it.

[flyingcarpet.livejournal.com]

This is very nice. I love your descriptions of the hall, and the fire -- they gave the whole piece the perfect sleepy, dissociated feeling.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I had this vision in my head of what the place looked like, and I'm really gald some of that came across.

[emma-in-oz.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much for this lovely fic with super competent Parrish.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

It was fun to write. Thanks.

[adafrog.livejournal.com]

Loved it. Thanks.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thanks for letting me know!

[dossier.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed reading this. It's nice to know that the secondary characters are engaging as the primarys!

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

There are some stories where it makes more sense to tell it from the secondary character perspective than it does the primary, and this was one of those kind-of stories. It made more sense for it to be Parrish who was the hero to me than it did anyone else.

Thanks.

[vagablonde.livejournal.com]

OOOOOOH! I've been trying to come up with a reasonable way to strand a team on a planet, and you've hit the perfect one!!! ::is very jealous::

Great story! I love seeing the secondary characters getting a moment to shine. The whole thing was fabulous, great plot, great interactions, great flow. I loved it!

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Feel free to use it if you want! I'm sure there are probably other stories out there who use a similar thing to strand the team, if I just looked around.

Thanks!

[tovalentin.livejournal.com]

Oh, did I ever love this. So nice to see a quietly competent Parrish. Well, quiet up to a point, anyway. :-)

Yep, a minute tops onscreen, and he captivated me. I think he's from Montreal; he's got that sorta-accent that a lot of Montreal anglophones have that involves pronouncing "t" like "t" instead of "d" the way the rest of the country does.

[imagechild.livejournal.com]

I'd thought so too-and the odd way h e sort of trill-rolls the "j" in "Major" I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one who was thinking Canada-*phew*

[imagechild.livejournal.com]

Loooved it--starting out with Lorne worrying for Parrish and his cold, cracked hands--and ending up with David being all competent and saving the day. Hurt/comfort at it's very very best.

Love the end as well, the test of wills between David and John >_< you created an awesome scenario there, well done!

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Lorne and Parrish are so fun to write, as there is so much you can do with them.

[casspeach.livejournal.com]

I can't believe I never left any feedback on this when you posted it. I suck (and have been very busy) but I came back for a reread, not actually my first, and realised I hadn;t, so, um, sorry about that.

You already know I adore competent Parrish, I think, and this was every bit as good as I had been looking forward to. I especially liked poor sick Lorne trusted David to have come to the right conclusions.

[wickedwords.livejournal.com]

How are you doing? I haven't heard from you in awhile. I'm sorry things have been so busy.

And yay! You liked it. I really love writing these characters, and I'm thrilled that you've been rereading it. Thanks.

[thefannishwaldo.livejournal.com]

Dear Rachel/WickedWords

Great news! You have several stories that have been nominated in the 2007 DiversiFICation Awards.

We know that most authors are thrilled to be nominated for an award and eagerly await the voting results, but there are some authors who don't care for awards and chose not to participate.

To that end we'd like you to reply to this letter letting us know if we have your permission to include your story/s in the awards.

Your nominated stories are:

Lorne/Parrish Pit Traps, not so much http://mediafans.org/rachael/sga/atlantis_pittraps.html

Lorne/Parrish Starving Artists http://wickedwords.livejournal.com/484265.html

McKay/Zelenka Fault Tolerance http://www.mediafans.org/rachael/sga/2006_sga_faulttolerance.html

Lorne/Parrish Lesser Homes and Gardens http://www.mediafans.org/rachael/sga/2006_sga_lesserhomes.html

Lorne/Parrish Winter Discontent http://wickedwords.livejournal.com/429321.html

McKay/Sheppard/Weir Diablerie http://mediafans.org/rachael/sga/atlantis_diablerie.html


For each story please let us know if you give permission for the story to be included in the awards. Also, please check the link and let us know if that is the posting of the story you want us to use when we announce nominations.

Please also let us know how you'd like to be identified throughout the awards, as nominations came in for you under three different names (Rachel, Rachel Sabotini and WickedWords)

You can reach the DiversiFICation awards by leaving a comment at http://community.livejournal.com/sgdiverse_award/3955.html.

If for some reason, you can't reply at that post, please email Waldo at smallwaldo at comast.net, but replying at the LJ post is preferred. Thanks.

re: Winter Discontent

[gsyh.livejournal.com]

I didn't know why I didn't expect him to shoot the windows, which means you did a great job building a crazy (everyone is or who is crazy) atmosphere.

I thought it was some kind of poison in the log they were burning (because shouldn't carbon poisoning have come up before), but near the end, I also thought that the wind outside might be poison, so opening the door could kill everyone. Glad to see that Parrish was right.