I’ll Take Care Of You

complaininginthedark:

@penflicks wanted some soft John/Maureen taking care of each other fic and this is what happened. I hope you like it!! Set mid/late season, after the Tar Pit.


John had been injured again. It wasn’t too bad, Judy had seen to that, but Maureen was still concerned.

They still didn’t know everything about the planet they were on. Even if the air was fine, even if they could eat some of the plant life, there were still unknown variables. Untreated wounds could get infected no matter where you were.

“I’m fine,” John insisted. But he didn’t move away from her as she stepped into the room, crossing it in long strides to examine him. “It’s just a scratch.”

Maureen dabbed again and raised an eyebrow at him. “And how did you get that cut?”

He paused, hesitated and looked down. “…by falling out of a tree.”

“And why were you up a tree?”

John sighed heavily, acting put upon, before reaching behind himself and producing a small succulent-like plant. “Getting you this.”

She grinned, her mind already working on the possible similarities between this plant and those back on Earth. There were tests forming in her mind in quick succession and she left the cleaning of John’s cut for a moment to take the plant and put it over on the desk.

“I knew you’d like it,” John said softly behind her. He rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. “That’s why I climbed the damned tree.”

She turned in his arms and kissed his non-injured cheek. “Thank you, John,” she said softly. “Really. But you fell out of a tree.”

“And Judy checked me over. I’m fine. It really is just a scratch,” he reassured her with a roguishly handsome smile.

“Still…” She took his chin in her hand and turned his cheek towards her. Maureen trusted Judy, her daughter was a great doctor and would no doubt only improve with time and practiced, but this was her husband that was hurt. No matter how superficial the damaged, she had to know it was alright.

John seemed to sense that, his gaze softening and his body relaxing as she reached for the disinfectant and cotton swabs. “That stuff stings like hell,” he mumbled, even as he leaned against the counter and let her stand between his thighs.

“Yes, but it’ll keep you from getting an unknown infection.”

“Can’t argue with that…”

Maureen smiled. “Don’t even try.”

John laughed, that boyish grin returning and it was like falling in love all over again. She remembered a time when they were young and falling for one another for the first time, John leaning against a wall with a split lip and a bag of frozen peas against his cheek. “You should’ve seen the other guy,” he’d said, grinning and wincing as his lip started to bleed again, “he’s nowhere near as bad as this.”

Maureen had berated him, given him a tongue-lashing to set him back to rights before tending to his wounds as gently as she was now.

The contact between the disinfectant and John’s cut made him hiss but he didn’t shrink away. He put his hands on her hips and stroked the jut of her hip bones with his thumbs. When she moved a fraction closer, resting their lower halves together, he hummed in satisfaction and closed his eyes. Maureen continued to dab at the cut until she was satisfied it was clean. It didn’t need stitches, and it wouldn’t leave a scar, but the knowledge it was clean helped ease the anxiety that had been nestled between her breasts since Penny had told her what’d happened.

“There,” she said at last, “all done. You big brave boy…” She kissed his cheek, lingering to rub their noses together.

John sighed happily under his breath and ran his hands up her back. “Thank you.”

“Just… be careful out there, okay? If anything happened to you, I couldn’t-”

He hushed her gently, reaching up to take her face in his hands and make their eyes meet. “Hey, hey it’s alright. I’ll be more careful, I promise. No more climbing trees.”

She laughed, voice thick with emotion, before nodding. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Maureen Robinson, you can hold me to whatever you want.”

Judy and John talking about PTSD please?

complaininginthedark:

I… love it. So in keeping with the theme (Mental Health Awareness Week), I want to say that my dad suffers from PTSD after his time in the Marines and Royal Air Force. It’s affected every aspect of his life and is Not something to be taken lightly. I’ve tried to draw on my experience as a family member to write this. 


Judy was shaking when he found her in the cargo hold. Her skin was beaded with sweat and there was something far away in her eyes that scared him. 

John recognised the look. He had seen it countless times on fellow soldiers out at the front lines of battle. He had seen them look off into the distance, their expressions blank but their chests heaving, and there had been little he could do to help. 

But Judy was his daughter. He had to do something. 

He strode into the room, made his footfalls heavy and hummed as he got closer so she knew he was there. The soldiers with PTSD he’d known had bolted when they didn’t know someone was there. Some had reacted violently, others had crumbled and been inconsolable. The idea of his Judy reacting like that made his chest tighten with dear.

“Dad?” She asked quietly, her voice wet with unshed tears. 

“I’m here baby,” he said softly and sat down against the crates with her. “I’m right here.”

Her face crumpled as she began to sob. John’s heart broke at the sight, memories of trying to hold her hand where it was free of the ice filling his mind. Her voice had been so young in those terrifying hours, the voice of a frightened child with nowhere to turn. Leaving her to get the magnesium had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. And it had been so close… any longer and she’d have died. If Will hadn’t come back when he had-

Judy curled against his side and dragged his arm over her shoulders. She buried her face against his chest and dug her fingers into the fabric of his jumper. After long minutes, her sobs turning to hiccoughs and then to shuddery breaths, she loosened her grip. 

“I… I got cold. The duvet was too tight and I got cold and-” she broke off with a choked sound. 

John rubbed her arm, kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay. You went through something huge, something not many people could deal with half as well as you;” he brushed a curl away from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, saw the thankfully clear brown of her eyes and let relief wash over him. “You’re so brave, Judy. I know it feels hard – like you’re still trapped and you won’t ever forget it. But that’s okay. You’re okay. Just do me one favour.”

She nodded, eyes questioning. “What?”

John smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Talk to me. Whenever you feel trapped or scared or… or whatever it is you felt tonight, talk to me. Okay, honey?”

“Okay dad,” Judy whispered. Her eyes welled with tears again, but her lips curved up into a delicate smile. 

“That’s my girl.”