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It's really kinda ironic how it all ends up, in the middle of no where with no one but yourself for company, and you wonder if they'll find your body or if you'll make compost for the wild plants growing around you.

Not that it really matters anyway, because you're half way to dead and in what you imagine is going to be a very short space of time, you'll be too dead to care.

It's almost funny, that you're here, dying, because you never wanted to be. Coward was more your speed, hero was certainly never on your to-do list.

You'd look on the bright side, except why the fuck do you care if a bunch of natives get snacked on today or next time the Wraith come around and that would be the bright side according to anyone else.

You can almost hear Carson 'ye did a good thing Rodney' in that really grating accent, that only ever sounded good the few times you had sex with him, and as good as Carson was for scratching certain itches, if he was here now you'd tell him to shut up, because the accent pisses you off.

Elizabeth would be full of praise over you're bravery; she'll probably say something really nice at you're memorial service. Teyla might even say something Anthosian like that boils down to 'good job' but in about two dozen words, as apposed to two. Aidan would probably just stand there, in that really irksome little way he has, like he's praising you for being almost as good as he is… now that is amusing, since the kid can't even tell you 1 prime number out of ten correctly.

John… what would John say you wonder idly and grin, because he'd probably say exactly what Teyla said, except, in just two words, maybe three, 'good job Rodney'. Of course John got taken down too and you have no idea if he's even alive, because he's wilful, stupid and he insisted you had to leave him to save the villagers.

Stupid prick. Yeah fine, great, the villagers live to die another day, but you're bleeding to death and he's hell knows where possibly already dead, to coin General O'Neill 'just peachy'.

Now that is a man who annoys you. Mainly, because he's almost as sarcastic as you are; but without the brains to really take advantage of it. It's annoying. Plus you have no doubt that he's partly responsible for you ending up in Russia, he probably gave Hammond the idea, it sounds like something he'd come up with.

But since you're dying, why waste the time thinking about O'Neill, you should be flashing through your life, seeing where it all went wrong, or right, or a little of both, because it can't be right that you're bleeding all over an alien planet, but up until the bleeding part, things were going pretty well for a while.

You know that's because of John; because even thought you snipe and argue and know just the right ways to piss each other off; you know it's because he was there.

There when you'd been working in the lab all day and hadn't eaten, with his turkey sandwiches, which weren't even really turkey, but you indulged him by calling them that.

There when you woke up in the middle of the night with a gun shot ringing in your ears, Brendan Gaul's voice haunting you.

There when you laughed and cried and bitched… even when you threw a bottle at him, because he'd dared to suggest Kavanagh was nearly as smart as you... yeah right, only in Kavanagh's dreams.

Actually John was the only person who'd put up with you for more than a few weeks and you wish you'd gotten the chance to tell him as much, just you know, for sentiments sake. Fat lot of good sentiment would do in your current situation.

Kinda getting dark, but you aren't really sure if that is because it's night time or because you're dying, and you don't suppose it matters, because it's almost peaceful...


Noise... what the hell... why is it so loud, and irritating. Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep... you're about ready to hurt whoever or whatever is making that noise, until you realise it's you, or your heart anyway, kinda, monitor, connected to the heart, so you suppose it's sorta you making the noise, if you were dead it wouldn't make that racket.

Test with one eye... yup it's light... owww, that's a little bright, make that a lot bright, bright green eyes looking at you with concern.

John... he's okay, you're okay, well either that or heaven seriously sucks because you hurt all-fucking-over.

You think you smile; you must because John smiles back and that's a good thing because John has a really nice smile.

Carson interrupts your smiles, babbling on about how close you came to death, bla, bla, bla, it's really annoying.

"Shut up." You tell him, and because you almost died, you get away with nothing but a glare.

Carson goes away finally and John is still there, sitting beside you, holding your hand... huh... hand... holding... infirmary? Oh he knows, that's okay then... wait a minute no it isn't, you're in the infirmary, people come in here damn it they'll see! Doesn't care... oh, that's sweet.

"You're here." You say stupidly, like he doesn't already know that.

"Where else?" he tells you with a smile.

"Yeah. Where else." You agree with a silly grin.

Maybe the whole hero thing has it's bright side after all.

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