skidmo_fic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skidmo_fic) wrote2007-02-09 05:42 pm
skidmo_fic) wrote2007-02-09 05:42 pm
Entry tags:
They Rest from Their Labors (PG)
Title: They Rest From Their Labors
Rating: PG (just to be on the safe side)
Pairing: None really. Mention of Zelenka/OFC
Spoilers: Critical Mass
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Radek had his reasons for not liking children.
Author’s Notes: written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
gatecreation episodes challenge. I meant this to be a cute, possibly fluffy and/or slashy piece about Radek coming home covered in paint, but it turned out pretty sad and a bit angsty. Caveat lector. The title comes from a burial reading in the Book of Common Prayer.
Radek stood in front of his bathroom sink, took his glasses off and splashed water on his face. He looked in the mirror and saw rivulets of color streaming down his face. The water-based paint dribbled down his neck and onto his naked chest, staining the curling hairs there.
He wanted to be furious with Rodney for sending him to this planet, but he knew it was his own fault. If he’d told Rodney the true reason he did not want to go, he was sure another engineer would have been assigned the task instead.
He’d told Rodney about his sister’s child and the superficial inconveniences he experienced whenever he went to visit them.
It was true; he hated his sister’s son. He was a little terror.
Sighing, he wiped ineffectually at the colorful patterns running down his face. It would be easier to just take a shower, so he pulled the bits of string from his hair, cursing when one stuck and he nearly pulled out a chunk of his hair in trying to remove it. When the last bit was removed, he slipped off his trousers and underwear and stepped into the shower, wishing fleetingly, as he always did, that the gene therapy had taken and he could just think the shower on and to the correct temperature. When the icy cold water hit his body full force, he stood there for a moment, letting the chill seep through him before reaching out to adjust the heat.
He watched the remnants of his time on M7G-677 swirling down the drain, blinking at the blurred image of blues and greens sliding over his feet. Scrubbing the more stubborn traces of color from his face, he tried to focus on the task at hand to keep himself from thinking of the pain he’d felt on the planet.
There was too much. He couldn’t block it all out.
The images came rushing back to him. The look on Marjeta’s face when she told him the news, eyes shining with tears, grinning so brightly he couldn’t help but smile back. The swell of her stomach growing with each week, making her more and more beautiful. The soft, tiny bundle pressed into his arms, seeing his son’s face for the first time. Antonin’s third birthday, the meager presents they’d been able to afford on Radek’s teaching salary littered about the room as the boy chose instead to play with the boxes and colorful paper they’d been wrapped in.
Radek felt his eyes welling up with tears, and for once he didn’t stop them. He let them flow, colored in reds and yellows, flowing into the stream of the shower.
Marjeta had become distant after Antonin’s death. She would be silent for weeks, and she never allowed Radek to touch her. He’d had to mourn his son alone, unable to find for himself the comfort he tried to give his wife. They’d stayed together for another year before Marjeta left him for the butcher who ran the shop below their apartment.
The water was running clear now, and Radek turned it off, grabbing a towel from the rack before stepping out onto the cool tile floor. He dried himself quickly and wandered into his bedroom, not bothering to dress. He walked slowly to his bed and sat for a moment, staring into the darkness of his room. After a few minutes, he reached into the cupboard by his bed and pulled out a bottle of amber colored liquid.
It was several hours later that he finally slipped into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
fin
Rating: PG (just to be on the safe side)
Pairing: None really. Mention of Zelenka/OFC
Spoilers: Critical Mass
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Radek had his reasons for not liking children.
Author’s Notes: written for the
gatecreation episodes challenge. I meant this to be a cute, possibly fluffy and/or slashy piece about Radek coming home covered in paint, but it turned out pretty sad and a bit angsty. Caveat lector. The title comes from a burial reading in the Book of Common Prayer.Radek stood in front of his bathroom sink, took his glasses off and splashed water on his face. He looked in the mirror and saw rivulets of color streaming down his face. The water-based paint dribbled down his neck and onto his naked chest, staining the curling hairs there.
He wanted to be furious with Rodney for sending him to this planet, but he knew it was his own fault. If he’d told Rodney the true reason he did not want to go, he was sure another engineer would have been assigned the task instead.
He’d told Rodney about his sister’s child and the superficial inconveniences he experienced whenever he went to visit them.
It was true; he hated his sister’s son. He was a little terror.
Sighing, he wiped ineffectually at the colorful patterns running down his face. It would be easier to just take a shower, so he pulled the bits of string from his hair, cursing when one stuck and he nearly pulled out a chunk of his hair in trying to remove it. When the last bit was removed, he slipped off his trousers and underwear and stepped into the shower, wishing fleetingly, as he always did, that the gene therapy had taken and he could just think the shower on and to the correct temperature. When the icy cold water hit his body full force, he stood there for a moment, letting the chill seep through him before reaching out to adjust the heat.
He watched the remnants of his time on M7G-677 swirling down the drain, blinking at the blurred image of blues and greens sliding over his feet. Scrubbing the more stubborn traces of color from his face, he tried to focus on the task at hand to keep himself from thinking of the pain he’d felt on the planet.
There was too much. He couldn’t block it all out.
The images came rushing back to him. The look on Marjeta’s face when she told him the news, eyes shining with tears, grinning so brightly he couldn’t help but smile back. The swell of her stomach growing with each week, making her more and more beautiful. The soft, tiny bundle pressed into his arms, seeing his son’s face for the first time. Antonin’s third birthday, the meager presents they’d been able to afford on Radek’s teaching salary littered about the room as the boy chose instead to play with the boxes and colorful paper they’d been wrapped in.
Radek felt his eyes welling up with tears, and for once he didn’t stop them. He let them flow, colored in reds and yellows, flowing into the stream of the shower.
Marjeta had become distant after Antonin’s death. She would be silent for weeks, and she never allowed Radek to touch her. He’d had to mourn his son alone, unable to find for himself the comfort he tried to give his wife. They’d stayed together for another year before Marjeta left him for the butcher who ran the shop below their apartment.
The water was running clear now, and Radek turned it off, grabbing a towel from the rack before stepping out onto the cool tile floor. He dried himself quickly and wandered into his bedroom, not bothering to dress. He walked slowly to his bed and sat for a moment, staring into the darkness of his room. After a few minutes, he reached into the cupboard by his bed and pulled out a bottle of amber colored liquid.
It was several hours later that he finally slipped into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
fin