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skeddy_katTitle: Trust
Summary: People claim John has issues.
It’s about trust. Not caring. John cares for quite a few people on Atlantis. Sometimes, he cares more than he should. But trust?
Sometimes John believes he trusts himself. Not after nights where he’s dreamed of Afghanistan, or Colonel Sumner’s head meeting John’s bullet, or the body count of dead Genii. But other times, when he’s pulled another miracle out of thin air (“out of his ass,” Rodney would say) and he’s saved the day in spite of what anyone thought – on those days he trusts himself. That is, he does until he catches people looking at him like he’s “that guy,” the hero, and he panics inside until Rodney shows up mocking him for taking chances with his life and letting him know he’s glad John survived.
John doesn’t trust the system or the chain of command much. He trusts Elizabeth, right up to the point where he thinks he knows better than she does. Maybe a little bit beyond that point – but not far. He likes to believe he’d trust O’Neill, if he still wore eagles, but O’Neill has two stars on each shoulder, and John learned long ago never to trust a general. Not coincidentally, John’s father was a general.
If asked, John would tell you he trusts his team. He does, mostly. Of course, you can’t count those six months when he was interned in an Ancient roach motel and hurt-betrayed-angry-abandoned because it was only a matter of perception on his part and the team didn’t really let him down. He never lost faith in them when Kolya captured him or when he felt the Wraith rip out his middle age through a hole in his chest. He knew they’d come. He might have had a doubt or two about still being alive when they finally figured out where he was, but he never doubted they’d come.
He trusts his team individually, too. He trusts Teyla to be the serene voice of reason – unless you insult her people. He trusts her to tell him the truth and knock him around with her sticks. He trusts her to be their guide in the ways of the Pegasus galaxy and its people – except, of course, for the Genii, who fooled her for years, or the Manarians. He trusts Ronon. He trusts him to be brave, strong, stoic, and to always have a few knives left on him when they’re captured. He trusts Ronon will be loyal and mostly follow his orders – unless there’s a Wraith around.
And then there’s Rodney. He trusts Rodney the most and the least. He trusts Rodney to save the day with some technological impossibility while moaning that they’re all going to die. He trusts Rodney to whine and complain and play the hypochondriac right up to the time he goes quietly heroic. He trusts Rodney to trade insults, share practical jokes, and see the man behind the rank, even if Rodney never calls John by his first name. He knows Rodney would risk his life for John’s; has risked it. He also trusts Rodney to be blinded by possibilities and discovery and to be oblivious to consequences until it’s too late. Yeah, Doranda still hurts.
It’s about trust. John trusts. Right up to the point that he doesn’t.
Summary: People claim John has issues.
It’s about trust. Not caring. John cares for quite a few people on Atlantis. Sometimes, he cares more than he should. But trust?
Sometimes John believes he trusts himself. Not after nights where he’s dreamed of Afghanistan, or Colonel Sumner’s head meeting John’s bullet, or the body count of dead Genii. But other times, when he’s pulled another miracle out of thin air (“out of his ass,” Rodney would say) and he’s saved the day in spite of what anyone thought – on those days he trusts himself. That is, he does until he catches people looking at him like he’s “that guy,” the hero, and he panics inside until Rodney shows up mocking him for taking chances with his life and letting him know he’s glad John survived.
John doesn’t trust the system or the chain of command much. He trusts Elizabeth, right up to the point where he thinks he knows better than she does. Maybe a little bit beyond that point – but not far. He likes to believe he’d trust O’Neill, if he still wore eagles, but O’Neill has two stars on each shoulder, and John learned long ago never to trust a general. Not coincidentally, John’s father was a general.
If asked, John would tell you he trusts his team. He does, mostly. Of course, you can’t count those six months when he was interned in an Ancient roach motel and hurt-betrayed-angry-abandoned because it was only a matter of perception on his part and the team didn’t really let him down. He never lost faith in them when Kolya captured him or when he felt the Wraith rip out his middle age through a hole in his chest. He knew they’d come. He might have had a doubt or two about still being alive when they finally figured out where he was, but he never doubted they’d come.
He trusts his team individually, too. He trusts Teyla to be the serene voice of reason – unless you insult her people. He trusts her to tell him the truth and knock him around with her sticks. He trusts her to be their guide in the ways of the Pegasus galaxy and its people – except, of course, for the Genii, who fooled her for years, or the Manarians. He trusts Ronon. He trusts him to be brave, strong, stoic, and to always have a few knives left on him when they’re captured. He trusts Ronon will be loyal and mostly follow his orders – unless there’s a Wraith around.
And then there’s Rodney. He trusts Rodney the most and the least. He trusts Rodney to save the day with some technological impossibility while moaning that they’re all going to die. He trusts Rodney to whine and complain and play the hypochondriac right up to the time he goes quietly heroic. He trusts Rodney to trade insults, share practical jokes, and see the man behind the rank, even if Rodney never calls John by his first name. He knows Rodney would risk his life for John’s; has risked it. He also trusts Rodney to be blinded by possibilities and discovery and to be oblivious to consequences until it’s too late. Yeah, Doranda still hurts.
It’s about trust. John trusts. Right up to the point that he doesn’t.
