We, the Sparky Army, decree 2008 to be the Year of the Spark. We pledge to post a new sparky story or chapter of a sparky story every day from January 1, 2008 to December 31, 2008. Though the Powers that Be have removed Elizabeth Weir from the regular cast of Stargate Atlantis, we feel that she remains an integral part of the show, and that the relationship between her and John Sheppard is too obvious to be ignored. We hope that you, and anyone might happen to read these works, agree.

And if that isn't official enough for you, we don't know what is. Seriously, guys, we're just trying to have some --and show TPTB that Sparky is the way to go. So sit back and enjoy the 366 stories coming your way!

A/N: This was one of those spur of the moment pieces that popped into my head. I spent WAY too much time on it, which leads me to believe it's not good. Oh well, enjoy!


Comfort

Serised


His quarters feel like a jail as he sits on the bed. Hands hold up his head while he's hunched over, tears in his eyes that threaten to fall as a sharp intake of breath is needed. It hurts to breathe. His chest constricts as he looks up, green eyes now glistening with tears. He's angry and frustrated, but above all, he is crushed.

Rage fills his body as he slams a fist into the wall repeatedly, the tears now falling. His poster comes off the wall, golf clubs smash to the ground, shoes thrown every which way. His dresser is thrown to the side and his bed is next, the mattress thrown at the door and the rest is tossed elsewhere.

His room is a mess, but he doesn't care as he sinks down against the wall to the ground in horrible defeat. He can't think anymore, he can't do anything but cry which isn't at all like him. He put on the false sense of serene calm after the mission, but it all came crashing in shortly after his checkup. Rodney gave him a sorrowful look as he ambled up to his lab to wallow in the only way he could; forgetting the pain by working.

Ronon had followed him until they ran into Teyla. John rushed past her, not knowing how long he could hold in the waterworks he was sure would escape.

Slamming his head against the wall, he hears his doors open. Shielding himself away from the intruder, he buries his head into his legs, resting his bloody knuckles atop his messy hair. The footsteps of the intruder were soft, almost afraid to enter. There's silence, then the figure hoists themselves down to a sitting position, touching shoulders with John. The silence continues.

He gathers up enough energy to clear his eyes for a brief moment to look up at who came in. If he wasn't in such pain, he'd be shocked, but the tears come again and he goes back to what he did before.

Ronon heaves a sigh, wondering why he came in here in the first place. Then he remembers: Teyla was filling in for the vacated spot until it could be filled, and, well, Rodney had never been good at these types of things. Running a hand over his tired face, he feels awkward, but before long sobs start wracking Sheppard's body and he can't stand the sight any longer. Raising a hand, he sets it on the leaders shoulder, running smooth circles in a feeble attempt to comfort the man who just lost a person so dear to him.

It didn't take long before Ronon realized Sheppard's healing time was going to take a lot longer than five minutes. Hoisting himself up, he gathers the pieces of the tossed around bed and puts them back where they belong, wasting no time putting the sheets on. Sighing, he walks over to his friend, squatting down, a look of sorrow on his face for what he's about to do. Picking the Colonel up, and hoping he didn't remember the event later, Ronon carries him to the bed, slipping off his boots and bringing the covers up. Satisfied, he picks up the chair that ended up near the bathroom and picks up the desk, and before long, he cleans up the entire quarters.

Sitting down at the desk chair, his gaze lands on Sheppard, who by now has cried himself to sleep. There are bags under his eyes already, and he can tell the Colonel will wake up cranky and disoriented before the events wash over him once again. Figuring he has a good two hours before then, Ronon leaves the room, heading to go get food for himself and Sheppard before he stops by the Infirmary, asking for the sweet pills that make you fall asleep in an instant.

By the time he gets back, Teyla and Rodney are there with food of their own. Puzzled, he sets the other tray for John on the desk, taking the spot he had before he left. He looks at Rodney, who shrugs before going back to his laptop. Shaking his head, he looks at Teyla, and all he sees is sadness. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he gives his own form of comfort as the team sits there for hours before the Colonel wakes up. They each hold their breath as he rubs his eyes. Then it happens.

He groans as he remembers. Curling up into a ball, his breathing becomes heavy. He doesn't see his team there. His eyes are clouded with flashbacks of seeing her face, her last words, the anguish on her face knowing that that moment might be the last time they ever saw each other ever again. It's enough to make him throw up, and he does. Thank goodness there is a bucket right there next to the bed. He doesn't question why it's there, instead he is thankful. Teyla sets a cool wash rag on his forehead, her fears surfacing as she takes in his appearance.

He goes back to sleeps. His dreams are filled with memories of Elizabeth. They end in horror, and he can't take it. He wakes up, throwing the covers off his sweating form as he tries to make it to the bathroom, but there is something in the way. It won't move, and it's making him angry. Punching it, it still does not budge, so he does it again, and again, and many times after before his hands are grabbed to stop him. He lets out a sob, leaning against the form. A hand is rested against his back, and before long he is placed back into bed that has cool sheets and a cool pillow.

John wakes up again and sits up slowly. From what he could remember, he trashed his room, so why is it so clean? Then it dawns on him. His face contorts into sadness, but his mind is racing as he looks around. His teammates are all asleep in various positions: Ronon slouched on his desk chair, Rodney on the ground right along with Teyla. He smiles softly, before he spots the food. He feels his stomach ache for it, and it doesn't take long for it to be devoured. He also spots the pills, and with a smile, he takes them. Before he falls asleep again, he knows it'll take a while, but he'll be fine. Someday, at least.