Blood and Leather

The call came through at about 1500 hours. Cameron had been planning an exciting evening, alone with a good DVD boxset. He'd deny it until the cows came home but he was rather fond of the ladies on Wisteria lane. The call was from an old buddy of his, whom he'd served with years ago and who now worked in a similar unit.

"Jeez, Shep! Not heard from you since I came for a visit!"

"Yeah, sorry about that, as you can imagine it's been pretty busy in Atlantis."

"I heard you got stuck with Wolsey- how's he treatin' ya?"

"Surprisingly, not too bad. I'm back here for a few days; do you wanna grab a beer and catch up?"

"Sure, you at Cheyenne?"


"Meet you there at 1900?"

"It's a date."

Sheppard and Cam went back a long way. They'd served together in Afghanistan when they'd both been Majors. There was always a healthy rivalry between them. They were both cocky as hell and damned sure who the better flyer was. Naturally, Cam said it was him. Predictably Shep claimed the title himself. After 15 years the jury was still out.

Once he'd had an invigorating shower, in which he destroyed the Shakin' Stevens song 'this old house', Cam stood in front of the mirror deciding what to wear. Cowboy jeans or cool black leather? It all came down to his mode of transport really. He decided upon the bike. Sleek and fast, it was sure to impress his old buddy. A smile played on his lips as he though about the pranks and foolhardy competition they used to have.

He slowly pulled his leather pants up, the super-tight fabric emphasizing his ass in just the right way. The cool material settling nicely into his curves. Next he pulled on an elephant grey t-shirt, with short sleeves and vertical ribbing which showed off his muscular chest and arms. Finally, Cam turned to leave his apartment, snatching his black leather jacket off the back of the door, and with keys in hand, sauntered towards the garage.

He straddled the bike, helmet in place, squashing his spiked hair, the leather pants stretched comfortably around him. Leisurely he pulled on his thick leather gloves, all the while thinking about past times with Shep. As he sped out of the underground garage, the setting sun shone brightly through clouds of purple and rosy pink. He decided to take the scenic route up and along the mountain trail, sure it took about 20mins longer, but it was damn pretty up there and the roads were amazing to ride. It wasn't often he indulged himself in a good fun bike ride, but talking with Shep had brought back old memories, old rivalries and a need for speed. The roads turns and bends were sometimes hard to take and Cam would have to go wide to avoid coming off. The wind whipped past him and he relished the feel on his face. Riding his bike always made he feel like a kid again.

He used to love the car ride to Church every Sunday. His grandma with her pretty blue hat and crisp white gloves, and him with a clean shirt and his arm sticking out the window as he tried to fly. It's little wonder Sheppard and cam got along so well. First time they met they exchanged stories about arms poking out of car windows and flimsy wings made of paper, feathers and a ton of glue.

The glorious sunset had made way for a dismal evening. The rain began in earnest and for the first time Cam wished he'd bought the car. He slowed, not wanting to kill himself, and took the corner at a demure 40kph. Leaning into the bend, leather pants almost scraping the tarmaced road, he thought of the look on Sheppard's face when he arrives at Cheyenne; wet, sweaty and grinning like a loon. As he came upon the next turn in the road he began to lean in to it, towards the left, the mountain looming above him covered with trees, he suddenly lost control of the bike. The treacherous road, being wet from the rain, was conspiring with the tyres to make him miss his drink with Shep.

The bike skidded to the right; Cam flew off to the left. His left leg, got caught under the bike, but as it sped away, it took part of his leather pants and skin along with it. He tumbled and bounced along the road at a frightening speed, his helmet slamming on the street, cracking down the middle. He landed painfully on hard ground, beside an overgrown bush.

Stunned as he was, he opened his eyes. A pained moan escaped his pert lips. Slowly he pushed himself up until he was sitting, leaning against the rough rock face. Lifting the remainder of his helmet up and off his head, he silently thanked God for small mercies; the helmet was smashed, his head was not. Placing his new lucky charm beside him, he looked mournfully at his wasted leather pants. They were just never going to be useful again.

His left leg had a huge gash running the length of his calf. The leather ripped, drenched with his blood. The rain was still splashing down, thinning his blood so that it was running in rivulets down the road. Trying to stem the bleeding, Cam removed his leather Jacket and then his grey t-shirt which he carefully pressed onto the wound. He could feel his warm blood soaking through the shirt and feel his pulse, as his artery spewed more and more of his precious blood out. If it continued at this rate he'd be dead within the hour.

Picking up his Jacket he searched the pockets for his phone. It was a little worse for wear but appeared to be whole. The screen was smashed, he couldn't see what he was doing, but he figured he might I well try and call himself an ambulance. He press in the three numbers and held the phone to his ear. It rang once and a pleasant sounding girl asked what emergency service he required.

"I need an ambulance please, I've just come of my bike…" She interrupted his explanation with an annoyed, "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"yes! I'm here, I need a damn ambulance!"


"oh damn it, you can't hear me can you?" he hung up. He decided to change tactics and dialled Sheppard… he was fairly bright, surely he'd work out that something was wrong.

"Hey Cam, what's up?"

"Sheppard, if you can hear me…"


"I'll take that as a no."

"Cam? What's wrong? Where are you? 'cause I'm dying for that beer!" he hung up and went back to tending his leg, hopeful that Sheppard would figure something out. He winced as he pressed harder on his gash in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. The phone rang and he hurriedly tried to answer. Just as he'd hit the answer button, the phone slipped from his grasp, his hand was so wet with sticky, copper smelling blood. "Damn it!" the phone finally gave up the ghost and fell apart.

He sat there, the rain dripping down his naked chest, to pool in the creases in his skin made by leaning forward to apply pressure. He was shivering so violently that he was having trouble keeping his hands and leg in the same spot. The pulse he'd felt early, once strong and powerful, was now weak and fading. His hands had developed a slight blue tint. His brain was starting to get fuzzy and his vision had begun to grey, when a black 4 by 4 came screeching along the road.

The car pulled over next to him and the driver climbed out and ran to Cam. "Jeez, what the hell happened to you, Buddy!" Sheppard said as he began taking his own jacket off, to wrap around Cam's half naked frame.

"Bike, skidded." Cameron was having a real problem keeping his eyes open and his lips felt all rubbery. Sheppard quickly hooked an arm under Cam's and pulled them both to their feet. Immediately Cameron passed out. Acting quickly Sheppard picked his friend up in his arms and carried him to the car. John layed him on the back seat, pulled blankets across him and tied his belt around Cam's leg as a tourniquet. Launching himself into the driver's seat he sped away, breaking several laws as he did so.


When Cam came to, he found himself in the infirmary with Sheppard's feet by his arm. Sheppard was engrossed in a comic book, his posture relaxed. "Hey."

Sheppard jumped up, looked monumentally confused for a moment, and then sat back down.

"God, you scared the life out of me! Twice in as many days, that's not good Cam!"

"Yeah, sorry about that… guess I'll be taking the car next time."

"Might be an idea. On the plus side, I now have a decent chance of beating you at pool since you'll be in a wheel chair" the look of panic that flashed over Cameron's face made Sheppard rethink his last statement. After a moment, the penny dropped.

"Oh no, no not like that – just for a while, you'll be walking around good as new in a few days."

"Phew. You had me scared for a minute there."

"Just call it payback."