Title: Five things someone has said 100 times
Author: Shenandoah Risu
: PG
Content Flags: none
Spoilers: SGU Season 1
Summary: Just what it says on the lid.
Characters: Rush, Young, Scott, TJ, Chloe, Eli, Lisa, Sen. Armstrong
Author's Notes: Written for the 100th prompt series at the LJ Comm sg1_five_things.
Disclaimer:I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with... ;-)


Five Things someone has said 100 times

"The man's a lotta work."

Everett Young knows hard work when he sees it. He recognizes supreme effort in others and never skimps on praise for those who excel. He also reads others well, and knows when they need encouragement, an extra hand or other special treatment.

He can divide his charges into neat little groups.

There are the overachievers, who seem to vibrate with nervous energy throughout, who talk fast and gesture a lot, always eager to get his opinion and feedback, working long hours and then proudly – if somewhat bleary-eyed – present their results, already chomping at the bit for the next challenge.

The work horses are the quiet ones, they move slowly but steadily, they stick to deadlines and turn in meticulous paperwork. They know their stuff but they don't advertise it. To the casual observer they often appear sluggish and unimaginative, but Young has learned to rely on them to get the job done.

Another group he calls the fledglings – often novices at their job, a little insecure and sometimes a bit star-crossed. They need encouragement and steady coaching, lots of reminders and gentle pointers to stay on track. They tend to be sweet, eager and scatterbrained, but all of them have great promise. They just need a little work.

And then there are the problem cases. The over-the-top geniuses that are like hurricanes – forces of nature, entirely unpredictable, capable of moving the world, making it a better place, or blowing it up. Nicholas Rush was filed in this category the first time he met him. And yet, there is a vulnerability, a human weakness there, and Young stays well away from it. Rush would always be a lot of work, but Young also knows that he's worth every second of his sometimes fierce temper, which is deeply rooted in the boundless passion for his work. He just has to keep at it.


"You're a good friend."

Eli dreads those words.

It's really not what he wants to hear from the girl he loves more than life itself.

For him, they're not a compliment – more of an emotional death sentence. To him they mean – this far, and not a step further. Beyond that is the Realm of Matt, and Eli isn't allowed there.

No matter how fond he is of Matt as a pal, he hates the fact that he's the lover, that he won the grand prize, that he not only gets her mind but also her body.

Chloe is the most perfect girl Eli has ever known – she's beautiful, she's smart, she's sexy, she can twist herself into a pretzel like nobody's business, and on top of it all she's funny.

It makes him feel frumpy and second-class.

Chloe has tried to explain a hundred times that he's special to her, but he doesn't want to understand. He'll always be second best.

And then the Lucian Alliance invades the Destiny, and Chloe is wounded, and as he rests in between carrying her through unfamiliar corridors, they talk.

He looks at her, face wet with tears, and he begins to understand that what they have is forever. Lovers may come and go, but their friendship will endure. And that's what he holds on to when he has to leave her behind to try and save – Matt's life.


"Are you sleeping OK?"

To say that she's overwhelmed with her new position as chief medical officer of the Destiny would be an understatement.

She's a medic, trained to triage the wounded in combat, to patch people up and send them back for proper care, an EMT at best. Tamara is smart enough to realize that the more she learns the better she can do her job, and so she's always been better than the other medics, she reads up on stuff in her spare time, she asks questions, she listens, she files her observations away for later use.

All this has stood her in good stead since they were marooned on the Ancient deep space vessel.

Her diagnosis of Young's injury was spot-on, and although she cringes inwardly at the pain he must have endured she's quietly proud of having made the right call.

She learns to trust her instincts, to look for clues in the little signs. She makes connections now that eluded her before all this happened. And she realizes that so many big troubles start out as tiny little ones: trouble sleeping, restlessness, dehydration, malnutrition, headaches, constipation, stomach aches – they all lead to bigger problems. And so she makes it a habit of keeping track of the little niggles, because those she has a chance to help heal.

Prevention becomes the name of her game, and it's often a losing battle, but little by little her people learn to watch out for one another, and her first question is now one routinely asked all over the ship. And that makes her sleep better.


"Everybody out!"

The Destiny is not his ship, as such, but to most of her crew it might as well be.

The scientists and engineers who work with him on a daily basis quickly learn to ignore his often bad temper, the insults, the scoldings. At first they were intimidated, but one after the other they have learned to stand up to him and understand his passion for what it is.

Rush has never been one for human company – there are few people he tolerates in his life. Numbers are his best friends.

As much as he'd rather work alone he realizes he's stuck with the slow pokes that hang out in the control interface room, and occasionally he has to begrudgingly admit that they make an actually useful contribution. He never consciously encourages them, but they have their pride, too. His acrimony begins to spur them on, to do better, to prove their worth, and quite unintentionally they become better at what they do.

They still lag far behind him, of course, but they don't give up either.

Then there are the moments when he just can't stand it any more, and he needs to be alone – alone with Destiny, alone with his destiny.

And to their credit, he admits, they have learned when that time has come. A quiet shared look, and they leave without comment.

In that moment, he loves them.


"One step at a time."

Chloe's dad lived his life by this plan. He reminded her to always keep moving, though, because, like the tortoise in the old tale, tenacity got him everywhere.

She will always love him for teaching her that, and when too many things happen at the same time, and she's completely overwhelmed with what to do next, she can almost hear his voice, slowing her down, keeping her on track.

When she sees him again, she knows he's a hallucination, brought on by an alien tick-like creature. She knows he's not real, and at first she's scared of what might happen. But when it turns out he just wants to talk, reminisce and enjoy her company, she relaxes and goes with the flow. Even his hallucination knows his lines.

And to her great surprise, he teaches her something – and since he is a creation of her mind, she supposes he's taught her long ago and she only now begins to understand it: that she is on a journey of a lifetime, an adventure beyond anyone's wildest imagination, and that life is not something to be feared or mourned, but something to be embraced. She's doing what he's always dreamed of, she's carrying his legacy, a legacy he handed to her because deep down he knew that this is what she's always wanted: to make a difference, to see the world, to live life to the fullest.

As much as she regrets to let go of his image she feels a sense of relief, of healing, of inner peace. She has arrived.