All For One 1/?
They had been offworld when the message came. Woolsey - never more thankful that they'd listened to him and sent him instead of the scientist-soldier from SG-1 that they wanted to to run Atlantis - opened it in his office.
Then he was in the gateroom. "Sergant Campjavascript:void(0);bell," he asked, "when is AR-1 scheduled to return?"
"Ten minutes, sir."
Woolsey nodded and sat down beside Campbell. "I need to be here when they get here."
"Very well, sir." Curiosity was written all over Campbell's face, but he refrained from asking.
Woolsey respected the man a little more every day he worked with him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Precisely 11 minutes and 24 seconds later, AR-1 came through the Gate, dirty and laughing and teasing as always.
Woolsey stood. "John - I need to speak with you."
Rodney turned to him, and his back stiffened, the smile fading. Woolsey frowned, cursing silently. Apparently the Colonel had read something in his face or voice.
"Sure." But John clearly hadn't, and was walking toward him. "What's up?"
Woolsey lowered his voice. "I don't know how to tell you this without blunting the result, so I'm just going to tell you. Your father's dead, John."
John blinked like he'd been slapped in the face. "....dead?"
"I'm sorry."
But it was plain John was no longer listening. "Yeah...I-I'm just gonna...." And he turned tail and all but bolted from the Gateroom.
Shooting Woolsey a look that was pure poison, Rodney vaulted after him even as the radio in Woolsey's ear crackled with Canadian-accented ice. "Fill me in, and do it now."
Woolsey sighed. Sometimes he wondered if that ibuprofin in his desk drawer was going to make it until the next Daedalus run.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Awhile later, Rodney entered John's quarters to find him still in the clothes from the mission, sitting on his bed and dangling one of his boots by its bootlace so that it hit the bed between his knees with a dull thud. "Hey."
John looked up. "Hey."
Rodney sat down beside him. "How're you holdin' up?"
John shrugged. "I'm fine."
Uh-oh, went the alarm bells in Rodney's head.
But John was still talking, not looking at Rodney. "You know, the - uhm - the ancient device on M7G-677 is malfunctioning...."
"M7....the one with the kids?" Rodney asked.
"Yeah." John didn't move, from looking down at the floor. "I think I'm gonna go check it out, make sure they'll be---"
"Radek'll handle it."
John shook his head. "He doesn't have the time for--"
"He'll have time."
"He hates going offworld."
"I'll send Evan with him."
John sighed.
Rodney bumped shoulders gently with him. "I know what you're doing. Trying to bury yourself in work so you don't have to go. But this was your dad, John."
"We weren't close."
"Still. He was your father."
"Rodney..." He looked up at him, to see Rodney's face grim and an unresolved pain in his eyes.
"He was your father," Rodney repeated, his voice low and intense. "I didn't attend my father's funeral, and I regret it every single day. I'll not have you live with the same regret."
"Okay," John whispered.
Rodney nodded. "Good. We're leaving in an hour." He stood up.
"We?"
Rodney turned back to face him, grinning. "Yeah. We. You need someone at your six in this, and I can fight better than you can now."
"Ah, but there's the flaw in your logic," John pointed out, smiling slightly. "You're assuming we're going to be in a fight."
"John," Rodney said with a chuckle. "This is us."
John blinked. ".....you've definitely got a point, there...."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An hour later, John and Rodney stood side by side, watching the Gate dial. Suddenly, both blinked to see Ronon suddenly standing there, holding a bag of his own.
Rodney asked, "Uh, Ronon? Where are you goin'?"
Ronon didn't look at either of them. His voice was matter-of-fact. "With you."
The wormhole formed and Ronon walked forward. Rodney looked at John. "I guess we've been told."
"I guess so," John said, grinning as they followed Ronon through the wormhole.