2010 never looked worse [followedhimdown]
Colonel Sheppard had responded to the Wraith attack with as much finesse and determination that he handled every mission. Unfortunately, as the Ancients had always feared, the Wraith could overpower them once they got their numbers up. Atlantis simply was not equipped to handle an attack of this caliber. Their last-ditch survival plan was set in motion and their [brand-spanking new] ZedPM to power the city was efficiently re-routed to send them all back to Earth. Or at least, the 'vital' among them. The rest were sent on the Daedalus through hyperspace...
John stepped through the Stargate at Cheyenne Mountain and was hit by an immense sadness. This place he had called home seemed distant and strange to him now. Atlantis was home, had been for damn near seven years. So help him, if they tried to shut it down he would have a lot to say on the matter. And he always was better at letting bullets do the talking.
All gate-travel was suspended and they all were sent "home" on paid release. John didn't have a home, not even a house, apartment or pad... There was not much he could do, but look at the Real Estate columns and wait for word to come back from Atlantis. He knew he could be helping somehow. He was clever and could fly better than anyone - that had to count for something... right?
It apparently didn't, he thought bitterly, glancing over the apartment listings in Colorado up for lease, sale or rent... Oddly enough, McKay's apartment was listed. John shrugged, throwing it down as his eyes unfocused. He couldn't.. this felt like giving up. He didn't give up, it was that simple.
Who did he know... that could help?
A plane ticket and a few hours found him at Dulles International, blinking up at the clear blue sky above the tarmac. This was a ridiculous gamble, but he was at a loss for anything better at the moment. He hailed a cab and rattled off an address he had gotten a while back with a simple message "If you ever find yourself in the area..."
He showed up at Stark's front door, breathing irregular and disoriented to boot. He barely even registered when the door swung open...
"Um... hi."
John stepped through the Stargate at Cheyenne Mountain and was hit by an immense sadness. This place he had called home seemed distant and strange to him now. Atlantis was home, had been for damn near seven years. So help him, if they tried to shut it down he would have a lot to say on the matter. And he always was better at letting bullets do the talking.
All gate-travel was suspended and they all were sent "home" on paid release. John didn't have a home, not even a house, apartment or pad... There was not much he could do, but look at the Real Estate columns and wait for word to come back from Atlantis. He knew he could be helping somehow. He was clever and could fly better than anyone - that had to count for something... right?
It apparently didn't, he thought bitterly, glancing over the apartment listings in Colorado up for lease, sale or rent... Oddly enough, McKay's apartment was listed. John shrugged, throwing it down as his eyes unfocused. He couldn't.. this felt like giving up. He didn't give up, it was that simple.
Who did he know... that could help?
A plane ticket and a few hours found him at Dulles International, blinking up at the clear blue sky above the tarmac. This was a ridiculous gamble, but he was at a loss for anything better at the moment. He hailed a cab and rattled off an address he had gotten a while back with a simple message "If you ever find yourself in the area..."
He showed up at Stark's front door, breathing irregular and disoriented to boot. He barely even registered when the door swung open...
"Um... hi."