Theme: Exploration of a Relationship Through The Five Senses - Sight
Pairing: Carson Beckett/Laura Cadman (Stargate Atlantis)
Summary: It was always evident when someone in Carson's care had died, Laura thought.
It was always evident when someone had died.
Carson walked into their quarters slowly. His head hung low, his shoulders slumped, as he shuffled quietly through the darkened room. Laura knew what death looked like on Carson – defeat. Defeat hung on pale skin illuminated by the night sky through their window, on half-closed eyes and pursed lips. She lay still on their bed and watched him move wordlessly through the dark, careful and deliberate in his movements, his muscles tense with stress as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it haphazardly to the floor in front of the bathroom.
She couldn’t tell from his expression how the person had died, although she gathered that it was something lengthy and possibly unavoidable. One didn’t spend intimate time with a man and not learn to read his signs, and Carson wore his emotions on his sleeve in all but the most deliberate instances. When it was sudden, he was wide awake. If there had been an attack, he wouldn’t have made it past the couch tucked away in the back of his office. No, the sullen and dejected sigh as he removed his pants and sat gingerly on the side of the bed told her that it had been a day where he’d gone through everything he had to give, and had still failed, if only in his eyes.
“I…” he mumbled finally, his voice hoarse and hollow. He tried to articulate once again, but resorted to shaking his head as he fell against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.
“Shh,” she whispered, reaching a hand out to stroke his chin in the hopes that he’d turn to look at her. “You don’t have to say anything.” Carson released the breath he was holding with a sigh. “You look exhausted,” she added, not bothering to admit that was obviously a gross understatement.
“Aye,” he replied quietly. He reached up and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. That simple action in the dark made him look so small, so vulnerable to her.
Laura inched across the sheets and pressed herself flush against him, her eyes never leaving the defeated frown still set against his lips. “We’re alive, you know,” she said simply. She watched as those words registered with him. The lines along his mouth eased and his eyes slid finally slid closed.
After a long pause, he replied with a simple, “Aye, we are.”
She knew he would be fine. He always was. She could tell by the way his breathing slowed as he allowed himself sleep. She could tell by the softening of his troubled expression and the relaxing of his body against both the mattress and her.
She saw that he would be fine by morning, but she would watch him just a bit longer. Just to make sure.
Next: II. Sound
Entire Set: Here