SG-1/SGA: There's No Such Thing... 5/5
Part Four
He woke up on the floor of the Tel'tak.
"Wha--?" he managed. His mouth tasted like it had been stuffed full of cotton, and his head was pounding. He didn't know how, but that chair had kicked his ass. When he pushed himself onto his elbows, whole body aching, the throbbing in his head only intensified. Groaning, he mumbled, "Anyone catch the plates on that truck?"
A hand on his shoulder kept him from sitting up all the way. "Not so fast, sir." John squinted; when his vision stopped swimming, he saw Ford looking down at him with worried brown eyes.
"Did we do it?" John asked, relaxing back onto the floor.
"I don't know," Ford admitted. "We didn't get a chance to stay and find out."
John shot up. His head didn't like that; he reached out and grabbed Ford's knee to steady himself. "We left?"
This time Ford really did push him to the floor. "Sir, you're hurt, you should sit down! We had to go. Dr Jackson disappeared, and there was an earthquake, so Captain Mitchell ordered us to evacuate."
"We need to get back to Earth," John said grimly. He blinked at the ceiling. "And get me some Advil, my head's killing me."
Ford looked sheepish. "Um, that's our fault. We were carrying you away from the chair and we sort, of, uh, dropped you. On your head."
"You dropped me?"
"Sorry, sir, but you try carrying a one hundred seventy pound, six foot tall, grown man," retorted Ford.
"One ninety," John lied grumpily. "And there were three of you!"
He was still lying on the floor feeling crappy when Rodney came into the back storage compartment about an hour later. "How are you feeling?" Rodney asked, kneeling beside him. The worried expression on his face was nice to see, but the huge bump on the back of John's head wasn't letting him forget that not only had he been dropped, he'd been dragged off the planet he'd been trying to save.
John beckoned him to come closer. "C'mere."
Rodney leaned over him with a spark of hope in his eyes. John smacked him upside the head.
"Ow!" Rodney said, pulling away. "I'm not the one who dropped you. It was Lieutenant Butterfingers over there."
"Did not!" Ford exclaimed.
"You did too! I believe your exact words were, 'I'm sure I don't need two hands to carry him.'"
"That's great, when can we get back to Earth?" John interrupted, glaring.
Rodney glanced at his watch. "Oh, I'd say in about an hour or two," he said, and John's annoyance lessened.
An hour and a half later, Jacob dropped them off on the nearest planet with a stargate. There were no ships patrolling the system or orbiting the world, so instead of beaming them down with the ring device, they took the risk of landing the ship on the surface. According to Jacob, the only people who lived there were a group of nomadic animal herders, who, coincidentally, they flew over while heading for the gate. John was pretty sure what they were herding were fluffy llamas.
The Tel'tak landed without a glitch. As SG-13 was stepping off the ship, Jacob called to John, "By the way, Major Sheppard, if you did something to Earth and killed my only surviving child, I'll hunt you down." Then he closed the hatch and started the engines.
John looked at the startled faces of his team. "He's kidding," he said, not truly believing it himself.
Of course Earth was fine. He'd felt the device working through him, felt something changing. He was sure Jackson's sudden disappearance was completely unrelated to what was going on, not those "Others" pulling him away. And the earthquake, too -- that had just been the device doing its thing.
When the gate activated and John had sent his IDC, Mitchell stopped John from walking through with a sharp, "Wait a minute. We oughta phone in first."
John shot him a look. "Why?"
"In case something's happened and the iris isn't lowered."
John pressed a hand to his temple; his head didn't hurt as bad as it had a couple of hours ago, but there was still a dull, steady ache. "You mean, in case everyone's dead." In case they'd screwed up, neither of them said.
Mitchell didn't reply. "He's right," Rodney said. "Do you know what will happen if the iris is up? After all this, I'm not getting killed by our own gate, thank you very much."
Just to prove them wrong, John hit the button on his walky-talky and said, "SGC, this is Major Sheppard."
There was no response. Mouth suddenly dry, he repeated, "SGC, are you there?"
"Major Sheppard? Is that really you?" It was Sergeant Harriman, sounding astonished, and John let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"See, not dead," John hissed to Mitchell.
"Um, no, sir, I'm not. But you might want to come back here ASAP. There's-- I can't really describe it."
That was all Harriman had to say. John hurried through the gate, his team on his heels. When the world righted itself again and he was in the chilly Embarkation Room, he noticed there were no Marines waiting to provide backup, and Harriman was the only person behind the glass control room window.
John froze in a panic. It had been a Goa'uld trick all along. He'd destroyed Earth!
The intercom clicked on. "Everyone else is outside, sir," said Harriman into the microphone, sounding a little bitter. "You should really go check it out. It's unbelievable."
An elevator ride later, John was pushing his way to the front of the crowd that had gathered outside the SGC's tiny exit. Some of the scientists were stretching their pale faces towards the sun, looking dazed; one of them was adjusting his glasses and swearing loudly in Czech. Harriman had been right, it was unbelievable: the snow had melted, leaving behind lush, green grass. The Torporok River was sparkling blue, instead of its usual brown ice and slush. But the most striking thing of all was the sky, which was bright and clear, not a black cloud in sight, and John just beamed: the Earth was saved (although Anubis was still out there), Jackson was real (but still Ascended -- was that dead? Undead? -- and MIA) and his team was still alive. At that very moment, his life was fucking awesome.
"We did it," John said, turning to the shocked faces of his teammates. He reached out and grabbed Rodney's arm; Rodney's face was filled with a wondrous surprise. "It worked!"
"You did this?" Landry interrupted. He'd been gazing at the sky in awe, and he blinked at John, eyes going round.
"Yes, sir," Mitchell said proudly.
"We found terraforming technology. In Atlantis," John added pointedly.
The look on Landry's face made it all worth it. "Wasn't your mission to make first contact on P3B-010, Major?"
"Well," John began, "about that..."
"General Landry! General Landry!"
Sergeant Harriman was pushing his way to the front of the crowd, face red and glasses askew. He tripped over John's and Rodney's legs and almost planted himself face-first in the newly-seeded earth.
"General Landry," he panted, " you need to get down to the Embarkation Room right away. SG-1's back -- with Dr Jackson!"
*
Alive, Jackson looked the same as when he'd been Ascended. Same short, brown hair, same squinty blue eyes, same thick, muscular arms John was trying really hard not to find hot. The only real difference was now his face had a kind of innocence John hadn't expected to see on a member of SG-1. Or anyone who worked at the SGC, for that matter. The Jackson in his visions hadn't really seemed the naive type either; despite being physically identical to the Daniel Jackson from before, it was almost like looking at a completely different person.
SG-1 was currently talking to Jackson behind partially-closed curtains while John perched on an empty bed on the other side of the infirmary, waiting for his chance. He had a feeling he'd be waiting a while; the team was on Teal'c's third hug, and Major Carter was crying a little.
"They found him naked in the sand," Rodney said, coming up to stand beside John. He studied Jackson's face. "Hmm, maybe that's why he looks so embarrassed."
When General Landry came in and pulled O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas aside, John made his move. What he was going to say, he didn't know; maybe, "Thanks for saving everyone," or, "Sorry we got you kicked out of Heaven, and by 'we' I mean 'I.'" He grabbed Rodney's arm and pulled him behind the curtains, trying to keep Landry from spotting him; Landry had forgotten about the whole terraforming thing when SG-1 came through the gate, but John knew it was only a matter of time before he had to make an official report. He wasn't looking forward to telling Landry the parts where he had aimed his weapon at his team, abandoned his mission, and used stolen SGC goods to gate to another galaxy. On the bright side, if he got court martialed he could go to the beach now.
Jackson looked up in surprise when John walked to his bedside. For a guy who had been dead a year, he was awfully tan, John noticed. A pair of round eye glasses sat in his lap, untouched.
"Hey," John said.
Rodney waved a hand. "Hello there."
"How're you feeling?" John asked.
"Um," Jackson said. His gaze flickered over to where SG-1 was talking with Landry.
John shoved his hands in his pockets. "Listen, about what happened... If I had known, I would've--"
He broke off when he realized Jackson was looking completely baffled. "Do we, ah," Jackson began, smiling politely. "Do we know each other?"
John stared at Jackson's open, trusting face.
"No," he lied. "We've never met. I just wanted to say, get well soon."
Rodney made a noise and John dragged him away, smiling at Jackson the whole time. Jackson watched them go with an expression on his face that said he thought John was completely nuts.
As soon as they were safely behind another partition, Rodney demanded, "Why didn't you tell him?"
John put his hands on his hips. "You really want to be the one to tell the guy the reason he lost his memories was because he was kicked out of the afterlife for saving a people he doesn't remember?"
"Good point," said Rodney. "We'll let SG-1 handle that. They're good at delivering bad news."
John peeked through the gap between the curtains. "He's going to be really pissed at me when he gets his memories back. I really should've paid attention when he said that thing about being subtle to avoid getting in trouble, or whatever."
Rodney didn't seem to have a response to that. John opened the curtains a little wider and watched Landry finish up with SG-1 and leave the room. "When do you think Landry's going to make me give him a report?" he asked. "Maybe Mitchell will do it if I ask really nicely. I don't think Landry's going to like what I have to say."
"Yes, yes, you're a dead man," Rodney agreed briskly, "but now that Jackson's back and we've accomplished what we set out to do, um, I thought we might discuss, ah..." He lowered his voice; curious now, John turned towards him, eyebrows raised. "I found a way to hack into the security feed into your room. I've set it to play a continuous loop of you sleeping. So now instead of seeing us -- I mean, if you want it be us in your room, of course -- they'll just think you're clinically depressed."
John grinned at Rodney's awkwardness, feeling warm and happy and a million other things he didn't have words for right now. "I don't know," he said, "Jacob Carter was looking kinda hot in his Tok'ra gear."
Rodney looked appalled. "That's disgusting, he's old enough to be your father."
A shadow fell on the bed. O'Neill was standing in the opening of the curtain, with pursed lips and a thoughtful expression on his face. John went still, images of a dishonourable discharge flashing through his mind, but O'Neill just raised an eyebrow and said, "Finally, someone more gay than Daniel." He closed the curtain behind him as he left.
John looked at Rodney. "Which one of us was he talking about?"
"Gee, that's a tough one," Rodney said sarcastically.
He took John by the wrist and practically dragged him out of the infirmary and towards the elevators. John almost missed, over his laughter, Jackson saying to SG-1, "Please never leave me alone with those two again."
Rodney was gone when John woke up the next morning. His stomach went hollow when he sleepily rolled over and saw the empty space where Rodney should've been, followed by a realization one of the blankets he'd kicked to the floor last night was draped over his shoulders. He relaxed. He'd been doing the sneaking around thing for a while, but until that very moment, he hadn't known if it was something Rodney was willing to do. They were good.
It must have been nice outside -- and that was going to be a weird thing to think about after all this time -- because the SGC was nearly empty when he went looking for Rodney. The only people in the mess were Mitchell, Ford, and a group of young, pretty female officers who were gazing at them adoringly, along with Major Damurchiev, who was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and watching Mitchell like he was a really interesting tv show. "There we were, on this alien outpost on Lava World," Mitchell was saying, "and the walls started coming down around us..."
Waiting right outside the room was Colonel O'Neill, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He was listening to Mitchell's tall tale, one corner of his mouth curled up. When he noticed John eavesdropping too, he nodded in his direction. "Good work on the terraforming thingamabob, Major," O'Neill said, looking proud; John stood a little taller. "How'd you know where to look?"
"I was having visions telling me to go a planet," John said.
O'Neill's eyes drifted to John's forehead.
"It wasn't a brain tumour, sir," John added sourly.
"General Landry wants to see you, by the way," O'Neill said. "Something about him having a hard time explaining what happened."
John grimaced. "Thanks for the warning."
O'Neill smirked. "Hey, I'm just glad it's you this time and not me." He turned back to Mitchell's story.
John was almost to level nineteen when Sergeant Harriman caught him sneaking out of the elevator. Harriman was a man with a mission, and soon enough, John was dragged to one of the conference rooms, which held not only Landry, but also the leaders and ambassadors from several nations, all of whom were waiting for John to tell them why it was suddenly okay to go outside again. When John got to the part about finding out Jackson had been a member of SG-1 and not a Goa'uld overlord, Landry started looking harried.
"You chose not to send an SG team?" the President of China asked Landry curtly.
"Now, Mr President, I understand your concerns," said Landry, visibly sweating, "but at the time, I thought it more important my teams concentrated on finding weapons to use against Anubis, not going on a wild goose chase to find some Ancient city."
He may have wanted to use John as a secret weapon to defeat a race of super aliens, but for the first time, John felt sorry for General Landry. Especially when the president of Russia leaned over and whispered something to President Wentz of the US, both of them looking contemplative. This was probably how the last general had gotten fired, too.
There came a knock on the door, and Sergeant Harriman poked his head in, looking abashed. "I'm sorry, General Landry, sir, but it's an emergency."
Landry left hastily. The door was barely closed behind him when Britain's Prime Minister said, with no concern for John's presence, "I told you replacing General Hammond would be a bad idea."
"Yes, we know," snapped the French ambassador in heavily-accented English. "We only debated it for seven hours."
"Maybe it would have gone faster it you hadn't vetoed every suggestion, Michel," said the Canadian ambassador.
As the argument picked up momentum, John slouched lower and lower in his chair, feeling really uncomfortable. He wondered if anyone would notice if he snuck out. All he'd wanted was to find Rodney and spend the day in bed (or outside; he wasn't picky where they were as long as it was private and they were naked), not be there in the middle of a political showdown. John didn't even like doing paperwork; he wasn't interested in any of the command decisions that went into the SGC, unless that decision was whether or not he still had a job. And no one had mentioned the words "discharge" or "prison" yet, so he felt he was okay.
Everything came to a halt when Kevin Costner asked suddenly, in a quiet, intense voice, "Major Sheppard, who do you think should be put in charge of the SGC?" The room fell quiet, all eyes on John again.
"You're asking me?" John asked dumbly, sitting up.
The Russian President snorted. "Bah, what does he know about running a base? In Russia, we use sissy Air Force majors for target practice."
That explained a lot about Viktor. "Actually," John said, "there's an American diplomat, a Dr Weir. She's currently in one of our offworld bases. I think you should consider her for the job."
President Wentz looked impressed. "I'll keep that in mind, Major."
When it didn't look like Landry was coming back, John finished his report and was finally dismissed. Landry, expression tense, was entering the room as he was leaving; John braced himself for Landry to say something about John disobeying his command, but instead he said, "You did good out there, Major."
"Thank you, sir," John replied, both pleased and confused.
"I still don't like you," Landry said.
"It'll be hard, but I'll try to get over it," said John.
The door closed, and John was alone in the corridor. He had a feeling that was the last time he would ever see Landry.
Too lazy to finish searching for Rodney and with no other destination in mind, John headed for the Embarkation Room. Captain Lorne was the only one there when he entered, holding a mug of steaming coffee and staring at the gate thoughtfully. Or vacantly; John never could tell when Lorne was being serious. Sticking his hands in his pockets, John stood beside him.
"SG-1 and Dr Jackson just left to find the Eye of Ra," said Lorne in greeting, not looking at him.
"Oh," John said. "What's the Eye of Ra?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," said Lorne. "You know SG-1, always... doing things. By the way, Jackson says he remembers everything and he hates you."
John looked at Lorne in alarm, but Jackson couldn't have been too mad if that was it. If John had been in his shoes, he would've at least gotten out a few threats before going through the gate. "Did he say anything else?"
"There was more, but I'm not comfortable repeating those words to a superior officer," Lorne replied.
They stood in companionable silence for another minute before Lorne said, "I think they're going to send me to a mining planet."
John glanced at him sideways. "Yeah?"
"Shouldn't've slept with that priestess," Lorne muttered under his breath, scowling at the gate.
"I have it on good authority a lot of alien natives have syphilis," John said casually.
Lorne looked worried.
John was still standing there smirking when Rodney appeared, looking rumpled and clutching a stack of photos in his hands but otherwise seeming okay. He wasn't surprised Rodney had tracked him down, even if it had taken a few hours. As soon as Lorne caught sight of Rodney, he murmured something about asking for a reassignment and left them alone.
"Sorry for--" Rodney glanced around furtively, but no one was there to overhear. "You know. Leaving this morning." He looked around again, and then leaned forward and kissed John lightly on the mouth. "Don't worry, no one's going to look at us when the all the 'important' people are upstairs."
John could spot the edge of a hickey poking out from under the collar of Rodney's t-shirt. He bit the inside of his cheek, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. "Next time wake me up before you leave," he murmured, reaching out and tugging up Rodney's collar.
Rodney's smile was bright enough to light up the room. "Next time I will."
"Where'd you go, anyway?" John asked.
Quickly regaining his composure, Rodney indicated the set of glossy satellite photos he was carrying. "We finished our scans of the planet. According to this, we -- you, rather -- fixed the climate problem, but none of the missing pieces of North America are back. Which makes sense; it was terraforming technology, not a time machine. Things will still be chaotic for quite some time, but at least now we don't have to worry about starving to death."
"That was a possibility?" John asked.
"And anyway," Rodney added, pointedly ignoring him, "with the Ancient outpost in Antarctica we now have a chance to defend ourselves in case Anubis attacks. The linguists and archaeologists are looking into seeing if they can find us another power source, so we can dial out to Atlantis without removing the ZPM from the Antarctic outpost. Apparently, SG-1 has come across Ancient equipment in the past, so they think we have an excellent chance at finding at least a partially-working ZPM out there."
With a city as big as Atlantis, John had to bet there were hundreds of ZPMs waiting to be discovered. Those Ancients had been pretty smart. There was no way they left their home without a backup plan.
Rodney sighed. "It really is a shame we couldn't bring one of those ZPMs here. Do you suppose we'll ever get to Atlantis again?"
John thought about Ronon and Teyla out there somewhere, waiting for John to find them, and he and Rodney together in a galaxy millions of light years away. "You know," he said, pressing his shoulder tight against Rodney's and smiling up at the stargate, "I have a good feeling about that."
*
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Huge thanks to onthecontrary for beta reading this as light speed, and to her, ciderpress, and seperis for all their encouragement.
My prompt was:
Anubis succeeded in blowing up the Antarctic stargate in "Redemption," decimating most of North America and dooming Earth to a slow death by nuclear winter. The Russian government takes a leadership role in evacuating the Tauri to other worlds through the Giza gate, while searching the galaxy for a way to save the planet.
Rodney McKay was mysteriously never recalled to the SGC to deal with the attack, and as Earth's last remaining gate expert he's one of the most influential scientists in the program. John Sheppard, stationed in Afghanistan at the time of the explosion, was promoted rapidly through what remains of the US military and has ended up liaising with the Russians. The two of them have nothing in common except their ties to a blasted continent...and some mysterious visions, from people who should've died in the blast, guiding them towards the Lost City of the Ancients and the terraforming technology that could one day heal their world. Can they work together to find Atlantis? Can they convince the Russian government to send an expedition? And why wasn't Rodney recalled to the SGC, anyway?
Obviously, I changed a few things to work for this story.
He woke up on the floor of the Tel'tak.
"Wha--?" he managed. His mouth tasted like it had been stuffed full of cotton, and his head was pounding. He didn't know how, but that chair had kicked his ass. When he pushed himself onto his elbows, whole body aching, the throbbing in his head only intensified. Groaning, he mumbled, "Anyone catch the plates on that truck?"
A hand on his shoulder kept him from sitting up all the way. "Not so fast, sir." John squinted; when his vision stopped swimming, he saw Ford looking down at him with worried brown eyes.
"Did we do it?" John asked, relaxing back onto the floor.
"I don't know," Ford admitted. "We didn't get a chance to stay and find out."
John shot up. His head didn't like that; he reached out and grabbed Ford's knee to steady himself. "We left?"
This time Ford really did push him to the floor. "Sir, you're hurt, you should sit down! We had to go. Dr Jackson disappeared, and there was an earthquake, so Captain Mitchell ordered us to evacuate."
"We need to get back to Earth," John said grimly. He blinked at the ceiling. "And get me some Advil, my head's killing me."
Ford looked sheepish. "Um, that's our fault. We were carrying you away from the chair and we sort, of, uh, dropped you. On your head."
"You dropped me?"
"Sorry, sir, but you try carrying a one hundred seventy pound, six foot tall, grown man," retorted Ford.
"One ninety," John lied grumpily. "And there were three of you!"
He was still lying on the floor feeling crappy when Rodney came into the back storage compartment about an hour later. "How are you feeling?" Rodney asked, kneeling beside him. The worried expression on his face was nice to see, but the huge bump on the back of John's head wasn't letting him forget that not only had he been dropped, he'd been dragged off the planet he'd been trying to save.
John beckoned him to come closer. "C'mere."
Rodney leaned over him with a spark of hope in his eyes. John smacked him upside the head.
"Ow!" Rodney said, pulling away. "I'm not the one who dropped you. It was Lieutenant Butterfingers over there."
"Did not!" Ford exclaimed.
"You did too! I believe your exact words were, 'I'm sure I don't need two hands to carry him.'"
"That's great, when can we get back to Earth?" John interrupted, glaring.
Rodney glanced at his watch. "Oh, I'd say in about an hour or two," he said, and John's annoyance lessened.
An hour and a half later, Jacob dropped them off on the nearest planet with a stargate. There were no ships patrolling the system or orbiting the world, so instead of beaming them down with the ring device, they took the risk of landing the ship on the surface. According to Jacob, the only people who lived there were a group of nomadic animal herders, who, coincidentally, they flew over while heading for the gate. John was pretty sure what they were herding were fluffy llamas.
The Tel'tak landed without a glitch. As SG-13 was stepping off the ship, Jacob called to John, "By the way, Major Sheppard, if you did something to Earth and killed my only surviving child, I'll hunt you down." Then he closed the hatch and started the engines.
John looked at the startled faces of his team. "He's kidding," he said, not truly believing it himself.
Of course Earth was fine. He'd felt the device working through him, felt something changing. He was sure Jackson's sudden disappearance was completely unrelated to what was going on, not those "Others" pulling him away. And the earthquake, too -- that had just been the device doing its thing.
When the gate activated and John had sent his IDC, Mitchell stopped John from walking through with a sharp, "Wait a minute. We oughta phone in first."
John shot him a look. "Why?"
"In case something's happened and the iris isn't lowered."
John pressed a hand to his temple; his head didn't hurt as bad as it had a couple of hours ago, but there was still a dull, steady ache. "You mean, in case everyone's dead." In case they'd screwed up, neither of them said.
Mitchell didn't reply. "He's right," Rodney said. "Do you know what will happen if the iris is up? After all this, I'm not getting killed by our own gate, thank you very much."
Just to prove them wrong, John hit the button on his walky-talky and said, "SGC, this is Major Sheppard."
There was no response. Mouth suddenly dry, he repeated, "SGC, are you there?"
"Major Sheppard? Is that really you?" It was Sergeant Harriman, sounding astonished, and John let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"See, not dead," John hissed to Mitchell.
"Um, no, sir, I'm not. But you might want to come back here ASAP. There's-- I can't really describe it."
That was all Harriman had to say. John hurried through the gate, his team on his heels. When the world righted itself again and he was in the chilly Embarkation Room, he noticed there were no Marines waiting to provide backup, and Harriman was the only person behind the glass control room window.
John froze in a panic. It had been a Goa'uld trick all along. He'd destroyed Earth!
The intercom clicked on. "Everyone else is outside, sir," said Harriman into the microphone, sounding a little bitter. "You should really go check it out. It's unbelievable."
An elevator ride later, John was pushing his way to the front of the crowd that had gathered outside the SGC's tiny exit. Some of the scientists were stretching their pale faces towards the sun, looking dazed; one of them was adjusting his glasses and swearing loudly in Czech. Harriman had been right, it was unbelievable: the snow had melted, leaving behind lush, green grass. The Torporok River was sparkling blue, instead of its usual brown ice and slush. But the most striking thing of all was the sky, which was bright and clear, not a black cloud in sight, and John just beamed: the Earth was saved (although Anubis was still out there), Jackson was real (but still Ascended -- was that dead? Undead? -- and MIA) and his team was still alive. At that very moment, his life was fucking awesome.
"We did it," John said, turning to the shocked faces of his teammates. He reached out and grabbed Rodney's arm; Rodney's face was filled with a wondrous surprise. "It worked!"
"You did this?" Landry interrupted. He'd been gazing at the sky in awe, and he blinked at John, eyes going round.
"Yes, sir," Mitchell said proudly.
"We found terraforming technology. In Atlantis," John added pointedly.
The look on Landry's face made it all worth it. "Wasn't your mission to make first contact on P3B-010, Major?"
"Well," John began, "about that..."
"General Landry! General Landry!"
Sergeant Harriman was pushing his way to the front of the crowd, face red and glasses askew. He tripped over John's and Rodney's legs and almost planted himself face-first in the newly-seeded earth.
"General Landry," he panted, " you need to get down to the Embarkation Room right away. SG-1's back -- with Dr Jackson!"
*
Alive, Jackson looked the same as when he'd been Ascended. Same short, brown hair, same squinty blue eyes, same thick, muscular arms John was trying really hard not to find hot. The only real difference was now his face had a kind of innocence John hadn't expected to see on a member of SG-1. Or anyone who worked at the SGC, for that matter. The Jackson in his visions hadn't really seemed the naive type either; despite being physically identical to the Daniel Jackson from before, it was almost like looking at a completely different person.
SG-1 was currently talking to Jackson behind partially-closed curtains while John perched on an empty bed on the other side of the infirmary, waiting for his chance. He had a feeling he'd be waiting a while; the team was on Teal'c's third hug, and Major Carter was crying a little.
"They found him naked in the sand," Rodney said, coming up to stand beside John. He studied Jackson's face. "Hmm, maybe that's why he looks so embarrassed."
When General Landry came in and pulled O'Neill, Carter, Teal'c, and Jonas aside, John made his move. What he was going to say, he didn't know; maybe, "Thanks for saving everyone," or, "Sorry we got you kicked out of Heaven, and by 'we' I mean 'I.'" He grabbed Rodney's arm and pulled him behind the curtains, trying to keep Landry from spotting him; Landry had forgotten about the whole terraforming thing when SG-1 came through the gate, but John knew it was only a matter of time before he had to make an official report. He wasn't looking forward to telling Landry the parts where he had aimed his weapon at his team, abandoned his mission, and used stolen SGC goods to gate to another galaxy. On the bright side, if he got court martialed he could go to the beach now.
Jackson looked up in surprise when John walked to his bedside. For a guy who had been dead a year, he was awfully tan, John noticed. A pair of round eye glasses sat in his lap, untouched.
"Hey," John said.
Rodney waved a hand. "Hello there."
"How're you feeling?" John asked.
"Um," Jackson said. His gaze flickered over to where SG-1 was talking with Landry.
John shoved his hands in his pockets. "Listen, about what happened... If I had known, I would've--"
He broke off when he realized Jackson was looking completely baffled. "Do we, ah," Jackson began, smiling politely. "Do we know each other?"
John stared at Jackson's open, trusting face.
"No," he lied. "We've never met. I just wanted to say, get well soon."
Rodney made a noise and John dragged him away, smiling at Jackson the whole time. Jackson watched them go with an expression on his face that said he thought John was completely nuts.
As soon as they were safely behind another partition, Rodney demanded, "Why didn't you tell him?"
John put his hands on his hips. "You really want to be the one to tell the guy the reason he lost his memories was because he was kicked out of the afterlife for saving a people he doesn't remember?"
"Good point," said Rodney. "We'll let SG-1 handle that. They're good at delivering bad news."
John peeked through the gap between the curtains. "He's going to be really pissed at me when he gets his memories back. I really should've paid attention when he said that thing about being subtle to avoid getting in trouble, or whatever."
Rodney didn't seem to have a response to that. John opened the curtains a little wider and watched Landry finish up with SG-1 and leave the room. "When do you think Landry's going to make me give him a report?" he asked. "Maybe Mitchell will do it if I ask really nicely. I don't think Landry's going to like what I have to say."
"Yes, yes, you're a dead man," Rodney agreed briskly, "but now that Jackson's back and we've accomplished what we set out to do, um, I thought we might discuss, ah..." He lowered his voice; curious now, John turned towards him, eyebrows raised. "I found a way to hack into the security feed into your room. I've set it to play a continuous loop of you sleeping. So now instead of seeing us -- I mean, if you want it be us in your room, of course -- they'll just think you're clinically depressed."
John grinned at Rodney's awkwardness, feeling warm and happy and a million other things he didn't have words for right now. "I don't know," he said, "Jacob Carter was looking kinda hot in his Tok'ra gear."
Rodney looked appalled. "That's disgusting, he's old enough to be your father."
A shadow fell on the bed. O'Neill was standing in the opening of the curtain, with pursed lips and a thoughtful expression on his face. John went still, images of a dishonourable discharge flashing through his mind, but O'Neill just raised an eyebrow and said, "Finally, someone more gay than Daniel." He closed the curtain behind him as he left.
John looked at Rodney. "Which one of us was he talking about?"
"Gee, that's a tough one," Rodney said sarcastically.
He took John by the wrist and practically dragged him out of the infirmary and towards the elevators. John almost missed, over his laughter, Jackson saying to SG-1, "Please never leave me alone with those two again."
Rodney was gone when John woke up the next morning. His stomach went hollow when he sleepily rolled over and saw the empty space where Rodney should've been, followed by a realization one of the blankets he'd kicked to the floor last night was draped over his shoulders. He relaxed. He'd been doing the sneaking around thing for a while, but until that very moment, he hadn't known if it was something Rodney was willing to do. They were good.
It must have been nice outside -- and that was going to be a weird thing to think about after all this time -- because the SGC was nearly empty when he went looking for Rodney. The only people in the mess were Mitchell, Ford, and a group of young, pretty female officers who were gazing at them adoringly, along with Major Damurchiev, who was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and watching Mitchell like he was a really interesting tv show. "There we were, on this alien outpost on Lava World," Mitchell was saying, "and the walls started coming down around us..."
Waiting right outside the room was Colonel O'Neill, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He was listening to Mitchell's tall tale, one corner of his mouth curled up. When he noticed John eavesdropping too, he nodded in his direction. "Good work on the terraforming thingamabob, Major," O'Neill said, looking proud; John stood a little taller. "How'd you know where to look?"
"I was having visions telling me to go a planet," John said.
O'Neill's eyes drifted to John's forehead.
"It wasn't a brain tumour, sir," John added sourly.
"General Landry wants to see you, by the way," O'Neill said. "Something about him having a hard time explaining what happened."
John grimaced. "Thanks for the warning."
O'Neill smirked. "Hey, I'm just glad it's you this time and not me." He turned back to Mitchell's story.
John was almost to level nineteen when Sergeant Harriman caught him sneaking out of the elevator. Harriman was a man with a mission, and soon enough, John was dragged to one of the conference rooms, which held not only Landry, but also the leaders and ambassadors from several nations, all of whom were waiting for John to tell them why it was suddenly okay to go outside again. When John got to the part about finding out Jackson had been a member of SG-1 and not a Goa'uld overlord, Landry started looking harried.
"You chose not to send an SG team?" the President of China asked Landry curtly.
"Now, Mr President, I understand your concerns," said Landry, visibly sweating, "but at the time, I thought it more important my teams concentrated on finding weapons to use against Anubis, not going on a wild goose chase to find some Ancient city."
He may have wanted to use John as a secret weapon to defeat a race of super aliens, but for the first time, John felt sorry for General Landry. Especially when the president of Russia leaned over and whispered something to President Wentz of the US, both of them looking contemplative. This was probably how the last general had gotten fired, too.
There came a knock on the door, and Sergeant Harriman poked his head in, looking abashed. "I'm sorry, General Landry, sir, but it's an emergency."
Landry left hastily. The door was barely closed behind him when Britain's Prime Minister said, with no concern for John's presence, "I told you replacing General Hammond would be a bad idea."
"Yes, we know," snapped the French ambassador in heavily-accented English. "We only debated it for seven hours."
"Maybe it would have gone faster it you hadn't vetoed every suggestion, Michel," said the Canadian ambassador.
As the argument picked up momentum, John slouched lower and lower in his chair, feeling really uncomfortable. He wondered if anyone would notice if he snuck out. All he'd wanted was to find Rodney and spend the day in bed (or outside; he wasn't picky where they were as long as it was private and they were naked), not be there in the middle of a political showdown. John didn't even like doing paperwork; he wasn't interested in any of the command decisions that went into the SGC, unless that decision was whether or not he still had a job. And no one had mentioned the words "discharge" or "prison" yet, so he felt he was okay.
Everything came to a halt when Kevin Costner asked suddenly, in a quiet, intense voice, "Major Sheppard, who do you think should be put in charge of the SGC?" The room fell quiet, all eyes on John again.
"You're asking me?" John asked dumbly, sitting up.
The Russian President snorted. "Bah, what does he know about running a base? In Russia, we use sissy Air Force majors for target practice."
That explained a lot about Viktor. "Actually," John said, "there's an American diplomat, a Dr Weir. She's currently in one of our offworld bases. I think you should consider her for the job."
President Wentz looked impressed. "I'll keep that in mind, Major."
When it didn't look like Landry was coming back, John finished his report and was finally dismissed. Landry, expression tense, was entering the room as he was leaving; John braced himself for Landry to say something about John disobeying his command, but instead he said, "You did good out there, Major."
"Thank you, sir," John replied, both pleased and confused.
"I still don't like you," Landry said.
"It'll be hard, but I'll try to get over it," said John.
The door closed, and John was alone in the corridor. He had a feeling that was the last time he would ever see Landry.
Too lazy to finish searching for Rodney and with no other destination in mind, John headed for the Embarkation Room. Captain Lorne was the only one there when he entered, holding a mug of steaming coffee and staring at the gate thoughtfully. Or vacantly; John never could tell when Lorne was being serious. Sticking his hands in his pockets, John stood beside him.
"SG-1 and Dr Jackson just left to find the Eye of Ra," said Lorne in greeting, not looking at him.
"Oh," John said. "What's the Eye of Ra?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," said Lorne. "You know SG-1, always... doing things. By the way, Jackson says he remembers everything and he hates you."
John looked at Lorne in alarm, but Jackson couldn't have been too mad if that was it. If John had been in his shoes, he would've at least gotten out a few threats before going through the gate. "Did he say anything else?"
"There was more, but I'm not comfortable repeating those words to a superior officer," Lorne replied.
They stood in companionable silence for another minute before Lorne said, "I think they're going to send me to a mining planet."
John glanced at him sideways. "Yeah?"
"Shouldn't've slept with that priestess," Lorne muttered under his breath, scowling at the gate.
"I have it on good authority a lot of alien natives have syphilis," John said casually.
Lorne looked worried.
John was still standing there smirking when Rodney appeared, looking rumpled and clutching a stack of photos in his hands but otherwise seeming okay. He wasn't surprised Rodney had tracked him down, even if it had taken a few hours. As soon as Lorne caught sight of Rodney, he murmured something about asking for a reassignment and left them alone.
"Sorry for--" Rodney glanced around furtively, but no one was there to overhear. "You know. Leaving this morning." He looked around again, and then leaned forward and kissed John lightly on the mouth. "Don't worry, no one's going to look at us when the all the 'important' people are upstairs."
John could spot the edge of a hickey poking out from under the collar of Rodney's t-shirt. He bit the inside of his cheek, unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. "Next time wake me up before you leave," he murmured, reaching out and tugging up Rodney's collar.
Rodney's smile was bright enough to light up the room. "Next time I will."
"Where'd you go, anyway?" John asked.
Quickly regaining his composure, Rodney indicated the set of glossy satellite photos he was carrying. "We finished our scans of the planet. According to this, we -- you, rather -- fixed the climate problem, but none of the missing pieces of North America are back. Which makes sense; it was terraforming technology, not a time machine. Things will still be chaotic for quite some time, but at least now we don't have to worry about starving to death."
"That was a possibility?" John asked.
"And anyway," Rodney added, pointedly ignoring him, "with the Ancient outpost in Antarctica we now have a chance to defend ourselves in case Anubis attacks. The linguists and archaeologists are looking into seeing if they can find us another power source, so we can dial out to Atlantis without removing the ZPM from the Antarctic outpost. Apparently, SG-1 has come across Ancient equipment in the past, so they think we have an excellent chance at finding at least a partially-working ZPM out there."
With a city as big as Atlantis, John had to bet there were hundreds of ZPMs waiting to be discovered. Those Ancients had been pretty smart. There was no way they left their home without a backup plan.
Rodney sighed. "It really is a shame we couldn't bring one of those ZPMs here. Do you suppose we'll ever get to Atlantis again?"
John thought about Ronon and Teyla out there somewhere, waiting for John to find them, and he and Rodney together in a galaxy millions of light years away. "You know," he said, pressing his shoulder tight against Rodney's and smiling up at the stargate, "I have a good feeling about that."
*
Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis does not belong to me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Huge thanks to onthecontrary for beta reading this as light speed, and to her, ciderpress, and seperis for all their encouragement.
My prompt was:
Anubis succeeded in blowing up the Antarctic stargate in "Redemption," decimating most of North America and dooming Earth to a slow death by nuclear winter. The Russian government takes a leadership role in evacuating the Tauri to other worlds through the Giza gate, while searching the galaxy for a way to save the planet.
Rodney McKay was mysteriously never recalled to the SGC to deal with the attack, and as Earth's last remaining gate expert he's one of the most influential scientists in the program. John Sheppard, stationed in Afghanistan at the time of the explosion, was promoted rapidly through what remains of the US military and has ended up liaising with the Russians. The two of them have nothing in common except their ties to a blasted continent...and some mysterious visions, from people who should've died in the blast, guiding them towards the Lost City of the Ancients and the terraforming technology that could one day heal their world. Can they work together to find Atlantis? Can they convince the Russian government to send an expedition? And why wasn't Rodney recalled to the SGC, anyway?
Obviously, I changed a few things to work for this story.