[Stargate: Fiction] "You're the Place I Run" [John/Rodney, G]
Title: You’re the Place I Run
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 21 improbility
Word Count: 3,337
Rating: G
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, pre-alternate!John Sheppard/alternate!Rodney McKay
Character(s): John Sheppard, alternate!Jeannie Miller, alternate!Rodney McKay
Summary: John ends up in an alternate reality, where nothing is quite the same.
You're the Place I Run
Jean Miller opened her front door to find a man leaning against the porch column.
There were not many people who would ring her doorbell at nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning, but she wouldn’t have been expecting anyone like this.
He was wearing some type of uniform, like the kind that the military officers at her university called ‘fatigues’, except that his were all black instead of the familiar pixilated camouflage pattern. The man looked… wrung-out, pale and tired, his uniform dirty and rumpled. His breathing was shaky, long deep breaths like he was trying to control it.
“Can I help you?” Jean asked, tentatively.
The man’s head shot up, unfocused eyes blinking at her for a moment before they lit with recognition. “Jeannie! Oh, thank god, you live here, too.”
She frowned. “Do I know you?”
His expression fell. “No, no, I guess you don’t. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to- I just didn’t know how else I was going to find him.”
“Find who?” asked Jean.
“Rodney,” he said. At her blank look, he went paler. “Your brother. Meredith Rodney McKay. Oh, god, please tell me you have a brother here?”
Jean knew she probably shouldn’t tell him that. She should probably call the police or the nearest mental hospital.
But the man didn’t actually seem dangerous or crazy. He looked exhausted - and if he’d used the last of his strength and sanity to get here, just to see her brother, maybe there was a very good reason for it.
“Yes,” she said. “Meredith is my brother. He isn’t here right now, but I can-”
She broke off, startled, as the man passed out cold on her porch steps.
It was a good thing it was nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning, Jean thought. That way, nobody was around to see her drag an unconscious stranger into her house.
*
“Are you crazy?” demanded a voice, and John let himself drift on the edge of consciousness. “You just brought him in here!? You don’t know who he is, Jean! He could be a stalker! Or a serial killer!”
John let out a long breath. If Rodney was ranting, a sound as familiar as the hum of Atlantis or the waves of New Lantea, then he knew that eventually, everything would be all right.
“He’s not a serial killer, Mer,” said Jeannie’s voice. “And even if he was, I doubt he’s much of a threat right now. He looked weaker than a kitten even before he passed out.”
“He could be more dangerous, now that he’s apparently gotten a good night’s sleep on your couch.”
“He’s been here five hours,” Jeannie countered. “And if you had come sooner, maybe you could have saved me from that grisly fate.”
“Oh, that’s…”
A cranky, arguing Rodney could solve anything, even-
John sat up abruptly.
He remembered exactly what had happened, why he was lying on the sofa in Jeannie’s living room… except that the two people staring at him were not the Jeannie Miller and Rodney McKay he knew.
This Jeannie was dressed like his Rodney usually did when he wore civilian clothes - haphazardly and with no regard for color or pattern, instead of the casual-yet-put-together earth mother vibe he was used to from her. By contrast, this Rodney was practically a fashion plate, wearing dark denim jeans with a shirt and bow tie in shades of blue, which should have made him look ridiculous but really, really didn’t.
“Um…” said John. “I didn’t happen to get around to explaining anything before I passed out, did I?”
That part was still a little fuzzy, after the relief of hearing he’d found Rodney had left him literally weak in the knees.
Rodney whirled, startled. “You did not,” he squawked. “Who are you? How did you find me? What do you want?”
“My name is John Sheppard. I come from an alternate reality. I found you because this is where your sister lives in my reality and we visit her all the time. And I need you to send me home.”
For a moment, they both just stared at him.
Then, Rodney snorted. “I knew it. He’s insane.”
“I’m not-”
“Probably some kind of stalker.”
“Rodney-”
“Or a hired goon. Who sent you?”
“Rodney-”
“And why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because it’s your name,” John snapped.
Rodney scowled. “My middle name. No one calls me that.”
“Maybe not here,” said John.
“Right,” drawled Rodney - no, Meredith. “The other reality you come from.”
“Yes, the other reality. Look, you don’t know me and you said I don’t know you. So I should know nothing about you, right?”
“Yes…” said Meredith, slowly.
“So, some of this might not be true in your reality, but in mine, you’re Meredith Rodney McKay. Everyone calls you ‘Rodney’ except your sister, Jeannie, who calls you ‘Mer’. You have two PhDs, and there’s almost nothing in the universe you can’t build or fix. You’re deathly allergic to citrus, you love industrial hospital food, you built a non-working model of a nuclear reactor for your sixth grade science project, you gave up playing the piano as a kid because some jerk teacher told you that you had no passion-”
“Mer,” interrupted Jeannie, “You never told me that.”
“Because it has nothing to do with anything,” he snapped. “All of this is - he could still be a stalker, I’ll bet all of this is on the internet someplace.”
“Rodney, please…” John began, just as the clock on the mantle struck three. “Look, we should hurry this up before Maddie gets home.”
They both frowned at him. “Who’s Maddie?” Jeannie asked.
“Oh,” John breathed. “I’m not - I’m sorry, I… You’re not married to Kaleb, here?”
She put a hand over her mouth, “Oh, my god,” and turned away.
“He died,” Meredith said, softly. “A few months after the wedding. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry,” John repeated. “I didn’t…”
Jeannie turned back around, eyes bright. “We have a daughter?”
“Yeah,” said John. “Yeah, in my reality, you do. Madison. She looks a lot like you. She’s really smart - Rodney’s been trying to teach her algebra when we visit. She’s only seven, but she gets a lot of it.”
“And Kaleb?” Jean asked.
“He teaches college, English Lit. He’s a good guy, a great father. He adores you and Maddie.”
“Oh,” she said, with a watery smile.
“Jean,” said Meredith, “you can’t believe him! He’s a crazy person!”
“The concept of a multiverse is a widely-accepted scientific theory,” she replied. “Why would he lie to us? How could he lie to us? Was anything he said not true?”
“That’s beside the point,” her brother scowled.
“That’s exactly the point!” She turned back to John. “Why do you call me ‘Jeannie’?”
He blinked. “I’ve always called you that. Everyone does.”
“I go by ‘Jean’,” she said. “After… after Kaleb died, I went back to school. I teach physics at the university, and it’s easier to publish under my legal name. Jean Miller.”
“Huh,” said John. “I guess, in my reality, everything you two would publish is so classified that nobody really worries yet what names are on them.”
“Classified?” repeated Meredith. “Why would anything I publish ever be classified?”
“You’re not a scientist?”
“I was. But…” He glanced at his sister. “Life’s too short. I’m the conductor of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.”
“Wow,” said John. “It took me years to get my Rodney to even touch a piano again.”
Meredith scowled. “I’m still not saying I believe you, but… how did you get here, if you’re from an alternate reality?”
“I don’t know,” John admitted. “Usually, you need a transdimensional device or a wormhole or something, but this time, I was a sleep in my own bed - and before you ask, I am damn sure I’m not dreaming.”
“I wasn’t-” Meredith began, then frowned. “You just have transdimensional devices and wormholes lying around where you come from?”
“Pretty much,” said John. He’d slept for hours, but he still felt exhausted, definitely too tired to be delicate about this. “This bunch of aliens called the Ancients built a series of devices that create stable wormholes between planets. You just dial the stargate like a telephone and go where you want. The United States Air Force has been using them to explore the galaxy and fight a different group of aliens called the Goa’uld. A couple of years after they started that, they discovered that they could dial gates in other galaxies, and that’s when they found the Lost City of Atlantis, which is actually a spaceship. And which is also where I live.”
The McKay siblings goggled at him.
“You cannot possibly expect us to believe that,” said Meredith.
“I don’t need you to believe me,” said John. “I just need you to get me home. Before I-”
He broke off, gasping, as the pain hit. It felt like his spine had been dipped in molten metal, oozing and burning down from his skull. Black spots crowded out his vision and when they cleared, Jean and Meredith were both hovering over him.
“What was that?” Jean demanded. “You did the same thing while you were asleep, but this seemed so much worse.”
“Entropic cascade failure,” said John. “There’s already a John Sheppard here, and this reality is trying to reject me. That’s why I need to get back home.”
“But why me?” Meredith demanded, sounding bewildered. “I get that you know me in your reality, but the other me can’t be the only scientist contracted by the entire US military. Why me?”
“Because,” said John. “Because if there was anyone I could count on to do the impossible just because I asked, it would be you, in any reality.”
“Oh,” said Meredith.
“I need to get home,” John repeated, letting some of the desperation show in his voice. “To my Atlantis. To my Rodney. I know he’s looking for me.”
“From another dimension?” Meredith asked.
“He already rewrote time for me,” said John. “So, what’s a little messing with dimensions?”
Jean looked at him for a long moment, then squared her shoulders. “We’ll get you home,” she said. “We’ll need to go to my lab.”
*
John borrowed Jean’s phone and made a call.
In his reality, it had been the SGC’s main outside number, but here it seemed to go to a random desk sergeant at NORAD. The sergeant had no record of a John Sheppard, at any rank in the Air Force, and didn’t recognize any of his security clearances. When he asked to speak with General O’Neill, he learned that the general had retired as a colonel and could not be contacted. Colonel Carter was still a colonel, still on active duty, but was now Carter-O’Neill and had transferred to NASA. Captain Evan Lorne had received an honorable discharge several years before and they had no further records for him.
The Air Force had never heard of Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett or Radek Zelenka, and they weren’t able to tell him if there was or had ever been a Marine named Aidan Ford.
When he gave the phone back, she frowned at him. “You okay?”
“They don’t know each other here,” he said, as they got into her car to drive to the university. “None of them. I don’t know why that matters, but…”
“We’ll get you home,” Meredith said, half-turning from the front passenger seat to look at him. “I may not still be a scientist, but I am a genius.”
John managed a smile. “Yeah, you are.”
*
“Look,” said Jean, tiredly.
They were in her lab at the university - it was well after hours and the campus was quiet - and they’d been debating themselves around in circles for over an hour.
“Look,” she repeated. “Each reality has its own frequency, right? So, we need something that will find the one John is from and push him back into it.”
“Oh, is that all,” Meredith said, dryly.
His sister scowled. “Most of the problem with the multiverse theory is that we haven’t been able to prove it. Everything we know about anything comes from what we can observe in and from our own reality. Until now.”
John nodded. “Nobody could contact another dimension because they didn’t know how much different another dimension would be. But now you do.”
“Exactly,” she said. “And we won’t have to search blindly. We’ll be able to specifically detect your reality, based on the difference between you and our reality. Actually, one of my former grad students is doing work in this area. Of course, it’s all been theoretical until now. But I’ve asked Miko if she’ll share her notes, and she said she’d be sending some by later today.”
“Miko?” repeated John. “Miko Kusanagi?”
“You know her?” Jean asked.
“She’s one of the scientists on Atlantis. She’s, well, she’s almost as smart as Rodney. And nicer.”
Meredith scowled as Jean laughed. “Then let’s get you home so you can insult your own McKay,” he said.
“Hey, no,” said John. “You’re nicer than my Rodney, too, but I like him just the way he is.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I-”
John broke off, gasping in pain. This time, Meredith caught him, easing them both to the floor.
“You are definitely getting worse,” he said. He sounded more worried than John’s Rodney normally would, but it was still reassuring. “Jean really needs to hurry up.”
“She’d go faster if you helped,” John wheezed.
“Me? I’ve been out of the scientific community for years.”
“You’re still the smartest man in two galaxies, McKay. C’mon, I’ll even do your math for you.”
“Of course you’re hot and smart,” Meredith muttered, as he hauled John up to sit in the chair at Jean’s desk. “Can I… get you anything?”
John shook his head, reaching for the bottle of water that was already sitting there. “Just give me a few minutes.”
“Here,” said Jean - she had disappeared sometime during his entropic cascade episode, but came back in, holding out a bag of potato chips, probably from the vending machine in the hall. “You could probably use this.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking the bag. “Hey, can I use your computer?”
Meredith snorted, “What, to check your e-mail?”
Jean smacked his shoulder. “Mer,” she said, then told John, “Of course. Anything I can help with?”
“No, I just...” He offered a weak smile. “I just want to see what’s different here.”
“Of course,” she repeated. “Come on, Mer, I’ve got an idea on how do to this…”
They left, Meredith arguing loudly, and John turned the desk chair to face the computer screen. It was still on, after Jean had been using it. He opened the internet browser, took a deep breath, then typed a name into the search bar.
*
“Okay,” said Jean, sliding out from under the console. “That’s it. This thing just needs a minute to charge up.”
“And you’re sure it’ll work?” John asked.
“Ninety-eight percent,” she said, cheerfully. “You ran the numbers yourself.”
“And for those other two percent, it’ll disintegrate you,” said Meredith. “Either way, you won’t have to worry about that entropic cascade failure.”
John snorted a laugh. “Way to look on the bright side, McKay.” He paused. “Well, this is goodbye.”
“Good luck, John,” said Jean, and hugged him.
Meredith hesitated. “I, um…”
“Here,” said John. He snatched a blank piece of paper from the mess on Jean’s desk and began writing. When he had filled the entire sheet with surprisingly neat cursive, he folded it in half, writing side in. “Find the Sheppard from your reality and give him this.”
“What is it?” Meredith asked, taking the paper carefully, without opening it. “A warning, not to make the same mistakes you did?”
“Nah,” said John. “It’s so he’ll believe you when you go talk to him.”
“Me? What would he want to talk to me for?”
At John’s confused look, Jean added, “We looked him up while you were asleep. In this reality, John Sheppard is the CFO of Sheppard Industries. There’s not much on his personal life, but when he’s photographed at charity events and stuff, there’s always a different beautiful young model on his arm. He’s made the list for Most Eligible Bachelor every year since he was twenty-five.”
“Right,” said Meredith. “Just because you’re friends with the me of your reality doesn’t mean I need you to-”
“I’m not doing it for you,” John interrupted. “I looked him up, too, and I know what it looks like to be miserable and covering it up. It may seem like he’s got everything, but if he doesn’t know you, then he’s not ever going to be happy.”
“That’s,” Meredith spluttered. “You can’t know that.”
“Give him the note,” John insisted. “I just - Look, you know how relationships are hard? And you never seem to know what the other person wants, and you’re always afraid you’re going to say or do something wrong and they’ll leave you forever?”
“Yes…” Meredith said, slowly.
“It’s not like that with me and Rodney. It’s the easiest thing, being with him. We fight, constantly and about the stupidest things. He’s forgotten our anniversary twice. But there is nothing that could make me stop loving him, or doubt that he loves me.”
“Oh, wow,” breathed Meredith.
“Uh, boys?” called Jean, from beside the device. “We’re getting a signal.”
“Aren’t we supposed to?” asked John.
She shook her head. “Not like this. It’s supposed to detect your reality, but this is more like we’re being sent a signal.”
John grinned. “That’s Rodney. They’re looking for me.”
“Then it’s time for you to go.”
“Thank you,” said John. “Meredith…”
“He’s looking for you,” the other man said. “Your Rodney.”
“Yeah,” said John. “We do that.”
“Oh. I…”
John hugged him, too. “Thanks, McKay.”
He stepped into the device they had built, the repurposed eyewash station from the chemistry lab next door. There was a sudden flash of blinding light.
And he was gone.
*
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the severe-looking receptionist. “Mr. Sheppard doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.”
“I told you,” Meredith repeated, “I’m the conductor of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, and I… Look, just give him this.”
The piece of paper was creased and rumpled from having been in his shirt pocket for the entire flight from Vancouver to New York. The receptionist frowned disapprovingly, but took it and disappeared through a door behind her desk.
To keep from fidgeting, Meredith looked around the waiting area. It looked very modern, all gleaming chrome and polished wood, but there was a familiar feel to it all. Meredith frowned around him, then realized.
Airplanes - it was like someone who loved airplanes had been made to choose things from an upscale interior design catalogue, then added a few outdated copies of GQ and Time to the glass-topped coffee tables.
Suddenly, the door opened again. The receptionist was back, following by a man in an expensive but very rumpled suit, clutching Meredith’s note.
“I wrote this,” said John Sheppard.
“Yes, you did,” Meredith agreed.
“But I didn’t write this.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“This says I should trust you. Should I?”
“If you don’t believe yourself,” said Meredith, “I don’t see why you’d believe me.”
Sheppard grinned. “I want to hear everything. Vivienne, hold all my calls and cancel the afternoon meeting.”
“But Mr. Sheppard-”
“No buts. Dr. McKay and I are going for a walk, and we’re not to be disturbed.”
He waited for her to nod, then grabbed Meredith’s sleeve and tugged him through the door behind her desk.
“So,” said Sheppard, leading them down an equally-fancy but empty hallway. “You met an alternate version of me from another reality. What was I like?”
“Oddly, not quite as hot,” said Meredith, without thinking.
But Sheppard only laughed, a horrible braying sound that Meredith liked instantly. “I know a place we can talk, and you can tell me all about it…”
THE END
Current Mood:
dirty
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 21 improbility
Word Count: 3,337
Rating: G
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing(s): John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, pre-alternate!John Sheppard/alternate!Rodney McKay
Character(s): John Sheppard, alternate!Jeannie Miller, alternate!Rodney McKay
Summary: John ends up in an alternate reality, where nothing is quite the same.
You're the Place I Run
Jean Miller opened her front door to find a man leaning against the porch column.
There were not many people who would ring her doorbell at nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning, but she wouldn’t have been expecting anyone like this.
He was wearing some type of uniform, like the kind that the military officers at her university called ‘fatigues’, except that his were all black instead of the familiar pixilated camouflage pattern. The man looked… wrung-out, pale and tired, his uniform dirty and rumpled. His breathing was shaky, long deep breaths like he was trying to control it.
“Can I help you?” Jean asked, tentatively.
The man’s head shot up, unfocused eyes blinking at her for a moment before they lit with recognition. “Jeannie! Oh, thank god, you live here, too.”
She frowned. “Do I know you?”
His expression fell. “No, no, I guess you don’t. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to- I just didn’t know how else I was going to find him.”
“Find who?” asked Jean.
“Rodney,” he said. At her blank look, he went paler. “Your brother. Meredith Rodney McKay. Oh, god, please tell me you have a brother here?”
Jean knew she probably shouldn’t tell him that. She should probably call the police or the nearest mental hospital.
But the man didn’t actually seem dangerous or crazy. He looked exhausted - and if he’d used the last of his strength and sanity to get here, just to see her brother, maybe there was a very good reason for it.
“Yes,” she said. “Meredith is my brother. He isn’t here right now, but I can-”
She broke off, startled, as the man passed out cold on her porch steps.
It was a good thing it was nine o’clock on a Wednesday morning, Jean thought. That way, nobody was around to see her drag an unconscious stranger into her house.
*
“Are you crazy?” demanded a voice, and John let himself drift on the edge of consciousness. “You just brought him in here!? You don’t know who he is, Jean! He could be a stalker! Or a serial killer!”
John let out a long breath. If Rodney was ranting, a sound as familiar as the hum of Atlantis or the waves of New Lantea, then he knew that eventually, everything would be all right.
“He’s not a serial killer, Mer,” said Jeannie’s voice. “And even if he was, I doubt he’s much of a threat right now. He looked weaker than a kitten even before he passed out.”
“He could be more dangerous, now that he’s apparently gotten a good night’s sleep on your couch.”
“He’s been here five hours,” Jeannie countered. “And if you had come sooner, maybe you could have saved me from that grisly fate.”
“Oh, that’s…”
A cranky, arguing Rodney could solve anything, even-
John sat up abruptly.
He remembered exactly what had happened, why he was lying on the sofa in Jeannie’s living room… except that the two people staring at him were not the Jeannie Miller and Rodney McKay he knew.
This Jeannie was dressed like his Rodney usually did when he wore civilian clothes - haphazardly and with no regard for color or pattern, instead of the casual-yet-put-together earth mother vibe he was used to from her. By contrast, this Rodney was practically a fashion plate, wearing dark denim jeans with a shirt and bow tie in shades of blue, which should have made him look ridiculous but really, really didn’t.
“Um…” said John. “I didn’t happen to get around to explaining anything before I passed out, did I?”
That part was still a little fuzzy, after the relief of hearing he’d found Rodney had left him literally weak in the knees.
Rodney whirled, startled. “You did not,” he squawked. “Who are you? How did you find me? What do you want?”
“My name is John Sheppard. I come from an alternate reality. I found you because this is where your sister lives in my reality and we visit her all the time. And I need you to send me home.”
For a moment, they both just stared at him.
Then, Rodney snorted. “I knew it. He’s insane.”
“I’m not-”
“Probably some kind of stalker.”
“Rodney-”
“Or a hired goon. Who sent you?”
“Rodney-”
“And why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because it’s your name,” John snapped.
Rodney scowled. “My middle name. No one calls me that.”
“Maybe not here,” said John.
“Right,” drawled Rodney - no, Meredith. “The other reality you come from.”
“Yes, the other reality. Look, you don’t know me and you said I don’t know you. So I should know nothing about you, right?”
“Yes…” said Meredith, slowly.
“So, some of this might not be true in your reality, but in mine, you’re Meredith Rodney McKay. Everyone calls you ‘Rodney’ except your sister, Jeannie, who calls you ‘Mer’. You have two PhDs, and there’s almost nothing in the universe you can’t build or fix. You’re deathly allergic to citrus, you love industrial hospital food, you built a non-working model of a nuclear reactor for your sixth grade science project, you gave up playing the piano as a kid because some jerk teacher told you that you had no passion-”
“Mer,” interrupted Jeannie, “You never told me that.”
“Because it has nothing to do with anything,” he snapped. “All of this is - he could still be a stalker, I’ll bet all of this is on the internet someplace.”
“Rodney, please…” John began, just as the clock on the mantle struck three. “Look, we should hurry this up before Maddie gets home.”
They both frowned at him. “Who’s Maddie?” Jeannie asked.
“Oh,” John breathed. “I’m not - I’m sorry, I… You’re not married to Kaleb, here?”
She put a hand over her mouth, “Oh, my god,” and turned away.
“He died,” Meredith said, softly. “A few months after the wedding. Car accident.”
“I’m sorry,” John repeated. “I didn’t…”
Jeannie turned back around, eyes bright. “We have a daughter?”
“Yeah,” said John. “Yeah, in my reality, you do. Madison. She looks a lot like you. She’s really smart - Rodney’s been trying to teach her algebra when we visit. She’s only seven, but she gets a lot of it.”
“And Kaleb?” Jean asked.
“He teaches college, English Lit. He’s a good guy, a great father. He adores you and Maddie.”
“Oh,” she said, with a watery smile.
“Jean,” said Meredith, “you can’t believe him! He’s a crazy person!”
“The concept of a multiverse is a widely-accepted scientific theory,” she replied. “Why would he lie to us? How could he lie to us? Was anything he said not true?”
“That’s beside the point,” her brother scowled.
“That’s exactly the point!” She turned back to John. “Why do you call me ‘Jeannie’?”
He blinked. “I’ve always called you that. Everyone does.”
“I go by ‘Jean’,” she said. “After… after Kaleb died, I went back to school. I teach physics at the university, and it’s easier to publish under my legal name. Jean Miller.”
“Huh,” said John. “I guess, in my reality, everything you two would publish is so classified that nobody really worries yet what names are on them.”
“Classified?” repeated Meredith. “Why would anything I publish ever be classified?”
“You’re not a scientist?”
“I was. But…” He glanced at his sister. “Life’s too short. I’m the conductor of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.”
“Wow,” said John. “It took me years to get my Rodney to even touch a piano again.”
Meredith scowled. “I’m still not saying I believe you, but… how did you get here, if you’re from an alternate reality?”
“I don’t know,” John admitted. “Usually, you need a transdimensional device or a wormhole or something, but this time, I was a sleep in my own bed - and before you ask, I am damn sure I’m not dreaming.”
“I wasn’t-” Meredith began, then frowned. “You just have transdimensional devices and wormholes lying around where you come from?”
“Pretty much,” said John. He’d slept for hours, but he still felt exhausted, definitely too tired to be delicate about this. “This bunch of aliens called the Ancients built a series of devices that create stable wormholes between planets. You just dial the stargate like a telephone and go where you want. The United States Air Force has been using them to explore the galaxy and fight a different group of aliens called the Goa’uld. A couple of years after they started that, they discovered that they could dial gates in other galaxies, and that’s when they found the Lost City of Atlantis, which is actually a spaceship. And which is also where I live.”
The McKay siblings goggled at him.
“You cannot possibly expect us to believe that,” said Meredith.
“I don’t need you to believe me,” said John. “I just need you to get me home. Before I-”
He broke off, gasping, as the pain hit. It felt like his spine had been dipped in molten metal, oozing and burning down from his skull. Black spots crowded out his vision and when they cleared, Jean and Meredith were both hovering over him.
“What was that?” Jean demanded. “You did the same thing while you were asleep, but this seemed so much worse.”
“Entropic cascade failure,” said John. “There’s already a John Sheppard here, and this reality is trying to reject me. That’s why I need to get back home.”
“But why me?” Meredith demanded, sounding bewildered. “I get that you know me in your reality, but the other me can’t be the only scientist contracted by the entire US military. Why me?”
“Because,” said John. “Because if there was anyone I could count on to do the impossible just because I asked, it would be you, in any reality.”
“Oh,” said Meredith.
“I need to get home,” John repeated, letting some of the desperation show in his voice. “To my Atlantis. To my Rodney. I know he’s looking for me.”
“From another dimension?” Meredith asked.
“He already rewrote time for me,” said John. “So, what’s a little messing with dimensions?”
Jean looked at him for a long moment, then squared her shoulders. “We’ll get you home,” she said. “We’ll need to go to my lab.”
*
John borrowed Jean’s phone and made a call.
In his reality, it had been the SGC’s main outside number, but here it seemed to go to a random desk sergeant at NORAD. The sergeant had no record of a John Sheppard, at any rank in the Air Force, and didn’t recognize any of his security clearances. When he asked to speak with General O’Neill, he learned that the general had retired as a colonel and could not be contacted. Colonel Carter was still a colonel, still on active duty, but was now Carter-O’Neill and had transferred to NASA. Captain Evan Lorne had received an honorable discharge several years before and they had no further records for him.
The Air Force had never heard of Elizabeth Weir, Carson Beckett or Radek Zelenka, and they weren’t able to tell him if there was or had ever been a Marine named Aidan Ford.
When he gave the phone back, she frowned at him. “You okay?”
“They don’t know each other here,” he said, as they got into her car to drive to the university. “None of them. I don’t know why that matters, but…”
“We’ll get you home,” Meredith said, half-turning from the front passenger seat to look at him. “I may not still be a scientist, but I am a genius.”
John managed a smile. “Yeah, you are.”
*
“Look,” said Jean, tiredly.
They were in her lab at the university - it was well after hours and the campus was quiet - and they’d been debating themselves around in circles for over an hour.
“Look,” she repeated. “Each reality has its own frequency, right? So, we need something that will find the one John is from and push him back into it.”
“Oh, is that all,” Meredith said, dryly.
His sister scowled. “Most of the problem with the multiverse theory is that we haven’t been able to prove it. Everything we know about anything comes from what we can observe in and from our own reality. Until now.”
John nodded. “Nobody could contact another dimension because they didn’t know how much different another dimension would be. But now you do.”
“Exactly,” she said. “And we won’t have to search blindly. We’ll be able to specifically detect your reality, based on the difference between you and our reality. Actually, one of my former grad students is doing work in this area. Of course, it’s all been theoretical until now. But I’ve asked Miko if she’ll share her notes, and she said she’d be sending some by later today.”
“Miko?” repeated John. “Miko Kusanagi?”
“You know her?” Jean asked.
“She’s one of the scientists on Atlantis. She’s, well, she’s almost as smart as Rodney. And nicer.”
Meredith scowled as Jean laughed. “Then let’s get you home so you can insult your own McKay,” he said.
“Hey, no,” said John. “You’re nicer than my Rodney, too, but I like him just the way he is.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I-”
John broke off, gasping in pain. This time, Meredith caught him, easing them both to the floor.
“You are definitely getting worse,” he said. He sounded more worried than John’s Rodney normally would, but it was still reassuring. “Jean really needs to hurry up.”
“She’d go faster if you helped,” John wheezed.
“Me? I’ve been out of the scientific community for years.”
“You’re still the smartest man in two galaxies, McKay. C’mon, I’ll even do your math for you.”
“Of course you’re hot and smart,” Meredith muttered, as he hauled John up to sit in the chair at Jean’s desk. “Can I… get you anything?”
John shook his head, reaching for the bottle of water that was already sitting there. “Just give me a few minutes.”
“Here,” said Jean - she had disappeared sometime during his entropic cascade episode, but came back in, holding out a bag of potato chips, probably from the vending machine in the hall. “You could probably use this.”
“Thanks,” he said, taking the bag. “Hey, can I use your computer?”
Meredith snorted, “What, to check your e-mail?”
Jean smacked his shoulder. “Mer,” she said, then told John, “Of course. Anything I can help with?”
“No, I just...” He offered a weak smile. “I just want to see what’s different here.”
“Of course,” she repeated. “Come on, Mer, I’ve got an idea on how do to this…”
They left, Meredith arguing loudly, and John turned the desk chair to face the computer screen. It was still on, after Jean had been using it. He opened the internet browser, took a deep breath, then typed a name into the search bar.
*
“Okay,” said Jean, sliding out from under the console. “That’s it. This thing just needs a minute to charge up.”
“And you’re sure it’ll work?” John asked.
“Ninety-eight percent,” she said, cheerfully. “You ran the numbers yourself.”
“And for those other two percent, it’ll disintegrate you,” said Meredith. “Either way, you won’t have to worry about that entropic cascade failure.”
John snorted a laugh. “Way to look on the bright side, McKay.” He paused. “Well, this is goodbye.”
“Good luck, John,” said Jean, and hugged him.
Meredith hesitated. “I, um…”
“Here,” said John. He snatched a blank piece of paper from the mess on Jean’s desk and began writing. When he had filled the entire sheet with surprisingly neat cursive, he folded it in half, writing side in. “Find the Sheppard from your reality and give him this.”
“What is it?” Meredith asked, taking the paper carefully, without opening it. “A warning, not to make the same mistakes you did?”
“Nah,” said John. “It’s so he’ll believe you when you go talk to him.”
“Me? What would he want to talk to me for?”
At John’s confused look, Jean added, “We looked him up while you were asleep. In this reality, John Sheppard is the CFO of Sheppard Industries. There’s not much on his personal life, but when he’s photographed at charity events and stuff, there’s always a different beautiful young model on his arm. He’s made the list for Most Eligible Bachelor every year since he was twenty-five.”
“Right,” said Meredith. “Just because you’re friends with the me of your reality doesn’t mean I need you to-”
“I’m not doing it for you,” John interrupted. “I looked him up, too, and I know what it looks like to be miserable and covering it up. It may seem like he’s got everything, but if he doesn’t know you, then he’s not ever going to be happy.”
“That’s,” Meredith spluttered. “You can’t know that.”
“Give him the note,” John insisted. “I just - Look, you know how relationships are hard? And you never seem to know what the other person wants, and you’re always afraid you’re going to say or do something wrong and they’ll leave you forever?”
“Yes…” Meredith said, slowly.
“It’s not like that with me and Rodney. It’s the easiest thing, being with him. We fight, constantly and about the stupidest things. He’s forgotten our anniversary twice. But there is nothing that could make me stop loving him, or doubt that he loves me.”
“Oh, wow,” breathed Meredith.
“Uh, boys?” called Jean, from beside the device. “We’re getting a signal.”
“Aren’t we supposed to?” asked John.
She shook her head. “Not like this. It’s supposed to detect your reality, but this is more like we’re being sent a signal.”
John grinned. “That’s Rodney. They’re looking for me.”
“Then it’s time for you to go.”
“Thank you,” said John. “Meredith…”
“He’s looking for you,” the other man said. “Your Rodney.”
“Yeah,” said John. “We do that.”
“Oh. I…”
John hugged him, too. “Thanks, McKay.”
He stepped into the device they had built, the repurposed eyewash station from the chemistry lab next door. There was a sudden flash of blinding light.
And he was gone.
*
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the severe-looking receptionist. “Mr. Sheppard doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.”
“I told you,” Meredith repeated, “I’m the conductor of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, and I… Look, just give him this.”
The piece of paper was creased and rumpled from having been in his shirt pocket for the entire flight from Vancouver to New York. The receptionist frowned disapprovingly, but took it and disappeared through a door behind her desk.
To keep from fidgeting, Meredith looked around the waiting area. It looked very modern, all gleaming chrome and polished wood, but there was a familiar feel to it all. Meredith frowned around him, then realized.
Airplanes - it was like someone who loved airplanes had been made to choose things from an upscale interior design catalogue, then added a few outdated copies of GQ and Time to the glass-topped coffee tables.
Suddenly, the door opened again. The receptionist was back, following by a man in an expensive but very rumpled suit, clutching Meredith’s note.
“I wrote this,” said John Sheppard.
“Yes, you did,” Meredith agreed.
“But I didn’t write this.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“This says I should trust you. Should I?”
“If you don’t believe yourself,” said Meredith, “I don’t see why you’d believe me.”
Sheppard grinned. “I want to hear everything. Vivienne, hold all my calls and cancel the afternoon meeting.”
“But Mr. Sheppard-”
“No buts. Dr. McKay and I are going for a walk, and we’re not to be disturbed.”
He waited for her to nod, then grabbed Meredith’s sleeve and tugged him through the door behind her desk.
“So,” said Sheppard, leading them down an equally-fancy but empty hallway. “You met an alternate version of me from another reality. What was I like?”
“Oddly, not quite as hot,” said Meredith, without thinking.
But Sheppard only laughed, a horrible braying sound that Meredith liked instantly. “I know a place we can talk, and you can tell me all about it…”
THE END
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dirty