annieb1955 (annieb1955) wrote,
annieb1955
annieb1955

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SGA gen Heroes 0-1/1

I wrote this for The Last Fic Writer Standing. Surprisingly I'm still there, going into Round 3 now. Hope you like it.




Heroes



I wonder if anybody ever thinks about who cleans up after them around here. I've been in the Pegasus Galaxy about a month, have yet to see a minute of combat and so far I've lugged more buckets and mops than weapons.

Yeah, yeah, I know, it's a dirty job but someone has to do it. I just sometimes wish that someone wasn't me. There's nothing like mopping what seems like acres of floors and cleaning toilets to bring you down to earth and take away those flights of fancy you had in your head about going to another galaxy and fighting aliens to keep the Earth safe.

Another day, another corridor... I settle my bucket and mop on the floor and look around. The walls here are blackened and distorted in places, the floor stained with dried blood. Not surprising considering what happened here. A heavy pall seems to hang over the whole area as if the city knows what happened and is grieving too.

Dr. McKay's been wandering around the place looking gutted. I've seen Colonel Sheppard dogging his footsteps most of the time, that Ronon guy too, and Teyla, that sweet thing who looks like a cross between Xena and a Barbie doll. They huddle around him whenever he stops somewhere, talk to him, pat him on the shoulder and then follow him again when he moves on. Never thought I'd see McKay like that. He's always seemed a little snappish, but now he reminds me of how I felt when Tom, my best buddy, died.

I shove the mop into the bucket with a little more force than necessary and curse as the water slops over the sides.

I knew the doc of course. He bandaged my hand once just after I got here when I cut it in the mess hall. He was an okay guy, funny accent and all. Decent, you know? Spoke to me as if I was as good as those heroes on the combat and expedition teams who go out battling the Wraith and meeting people on other worlds. Slapped me on the shoulder when he'd finished and told me my "war wound" would be a good way to get a pretty girl to cut up my food for me for a while.

I slam the mop into the bucket again, squeeze it out, and get to work.

Guess there are all kinds of heroes.



End
Tags: sga gen fic
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