FIC: SPN/SG-1/SGA - Journey's End - Dean-centric - R - 1/1
You know it seems I can write short stories.
Also, note. I love Papa John.
This is a Supernatural/Stargate/Stargate: Atlantis crossover.
TITLE: Journey’s End
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Dean was ten when he realized that his father viewed him and Sammy differently.
RATING: R. Because Dean and Sam have potty mouths.
PAIRINGS: Gen - there are no declared pairings, though there is definitely some slashy subtext
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them, I’m only playing.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.
Journey’s End
Dean was ten when he realized that his father viewed him and Sammy differently. Showering love and affection on the younger boy, and barely acknowledging a particularly well done job with a pat on the head for Dean.
He hadn’t minded when they were younger because he had memories that Sammy didn’t.
He had vague recollections of his mother, of soft hands and a soothing voice and blonde hair that she would dangle against his face causing him to squirm and giggle.
Sammy didn’t have those, Sammy barely remembered even impressions of their mom and for a very awkward five days he’d called Dean mom. He’d been joking of course, doing it to get a rise out of Dean and it had worked until Dean had punched him twice in the arm and Sammy little wuss that he was cried and dad yelled.
Sammy stopped calling him mom though, called him Dean or moron as he felt the occasion warranted.
They’d been camping. A simple camping trip, they weren’t even hunting anything.
Something had been hunting them though, they’d heard howls in the night and dad had said ‘werewolf’ and Sammy had said ‘I’m scared’ and clung to their father.
Dean had gone to lay the lines of salt because dad couldn’t, not with Sammy clinging to him like a limpet, crying and useless.
It had gotten him on the backside of the tent. Dad had called for him and Dean couldn’t even talk, couldn’t even reassure him. His hands had been shaking on the gun that his dad had told him to take.
They might not have been actively hunting but John Winchester was never unprepared.
He’d gotten off two shots and the werewolf had dropped and dad had come out of the tent, Sammy still clinging to him.
He’d gotten yelled at for not answering his dad. He’d not been congratulated for downing an adult werewolf at ten.
Sammy had been hugged and kissed and dad had told him how proud he was of him for being so brave.
Dean was ten when he realized that his dad looked at his two sons and only saw one.
***************************************
Dean was fourteen when he started planning his escape.
He hustled for pool, tricked a little until he decided that while he liked the sex well enough the fact that he was doing it for money might turn him off it all together.
Dad and Sammy never had any clue. He’d give them some of the money, just enough to supplement what dad had. Bought Sammy new sneakers and jeans and t-shirts when he started growing so fast that it seemed like he was outgrowing things on a weekly basis.
Most of it went into a little pocket that he’d sewn in the bottom of his duffel bag. Dad never went in it and Sammy had learned to stop snooping when Dean had replaced his shampoo with blue hair dye.
***************************************
At eighteen he left.
Went out one morning for coffee and just never went back. He had the clothes on his back and the money he’d saved hidden in the bottoms of his shoes, inside pockets on his jacket. He kept twenty in his wallet just for appearances sake.
He caught the bus and went one town over.
Sgt. Erik Hamilton was waiting for him when he walked into the recruitment office. Smiling when he walked through the door and he opened his mouth but Dean didn’t wait to find out what he was going to say.
“I’m here to enlist.”
Short, sweet. To the point.
Sgt. Hamilton had the papers drawn up and when Dean told him he was willing to leave for basic immediately he tried to talk him out of it.
“Spend some time with your family, its going to be a while before you see them again.”
“They’re in the middle of traveling around the U.S. right now,” Dean said, straight face and he’d learned to lie at ten.
When Sammy asked why Dean hated dad, Dean had said he didn’t and learned to hide his emotions better. Until he didn’t feel them at all.
He still loved Sammy, he always would.
If he’d stayed it would have been for him, but Sammy had started talking about a normal life, about what he was going to do when he was old enough to be on his own and Dean had known if he didn’t leave he would be trapped with a father that tolerated him but didn’t love him.
He’d stayed in a motel; the bartender served him even though he could in no way pass for 21. She lied to his father when he came through flashing a picture looking for him.
It was for Sammy he knew, there was no way that dad would be searching for him unless Sammy had pushed it.
He left for basic on a Tuesday morning. It was raining and dreary and the boys sitting around him all looked scared to death and he caught more than one of them asking ‘what the hell have we gotten ourselves into’.
He’d never felt more free.
***************************************
He was 22 when the Stargate program came calling. Of course it hadn’t been called that, not when the idea of it had been pitched to him.
Colonel O’Neill found him at the barracks. Knocking on his door and when Dean held the door open and waited for him to enter he looked around.
“Not one for having belongings, are you,” he commented.
Dean shrugged, having things meant that things could be taken away from you. He chose to have nothing so that no one else would feel compelled to have it.
“I hear you have some sort of affinity for languages,” O’Neill said.
Dean remained silent, he knew some Latin. Had it drilled into him at a young age until he could have performed the two exorcisms they’d done on his own without his dads’ journal.
He’d taken a few classes at the local college once he got to his first base assignment, learned some Spanish, some French. Had taken Russian for a semester until the guys he worked with started looking at him with suspicion and he’d stopped.
Sam had been the smart one, dad had been the gung ho hunter and by default that left dumb blonde to Dean. He’d never been dumb, he’d had numerous teachers tell him that he was smart and just not living up to his potential.
He’d like to have seen them ‘live up to their potential’ while changing schools seemingly once a month.
Besides he’d never thought he’d be that guy, the one who liked learning. He’d just barely tolerated school, definitely could have lived without it. He didn’t know what had prompted the interest in the first place except that it was being paid for.
Sammy had been the one that was going to go to college, Dean only wondered once a week whether or not he’d gotten to.
“If you’re interested I have someone I’d like you to work with,” the Colonel smiled at him and Dean just shrugged. They’d send him where they’d send him.
He’d not talked to Sammy in 4 years.
***************************************
Dr. Daniel Jackson wasn’t anything like what Dean had expected. Off beat, eccentric. Prone to forgetting that he was in the room.
So intelligent that sometimes it scared him.
Dean wasn’t sure what he was doing working in the same room as him. The man knew like 27 languages and on a good day Dean could claim to at least reasonably comprehend 4, one of them English.
It took him a month to realize that he was basically a body guard and the fact that he knew other languages was just the icing on the cake as far as the Colonel was concerned. It was less suspicious if it at least looked like he had a reason to be in the same room with Daniel.
Besides if it had taken him a month to figure it out, Daniel would realize it about three years from then.
***************************************
He was 24 when he went to Atlantis.
They’d been testing everyone in Antarctica for the Ancient gene, Dean had been there because Daniel had been there. He’d been tested because everyone had to sit in the chair.
He didn’t make it do amazing things like that Air Force Major, but he had managed a bit of something and he’d been offered the gig.
He would have turned it down except Daniel had been there when it had been offered and since Daniel had lobbied long and hard to go and had been denied he couldn’t very well turn around and tell him he didn’t want to go.
A one way trip through the gate and he’d gone on a few missions with SG-1 because of Daniel so he kind of knew what to expect.
Days after they got there he’d have his own room and he’d be part of a team, not first contact thank god but he’d been part of the second team and every so often got snagged to look at translations even though he wasn’t Daniel and wasn’t the linguist assigned to the Atlantis group.
When he’d been considering the pros and cons of going, Sammy and dad hadn’t weighed in on either list.
***************************************
He was 28 when the Stargate program went public.
They were fairly sheltered in Atlantis. Daniel made two trips that year on the Daedalus to help him with translations. Their formal linguist had been killed the year prior and the SGC hadn’t seen the point of sending a new one when they had Dean there and Dean had a direct connection to Dr. Daniel Jackson.
He sensed Dr. Weir’s fingerprints all over that, she’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep from inundating Atlantis with too many new faces, not when the old ones, the original ones weren’t complaining about overwork.
Unless you were Dr. McKay, and his complaints were pretty much expected and no weight was lent to them. Until he turned off the power to your rooms and then you knew he needed to get help because he wasn’t sleeping.
So Daniel came twice and the second time was suspiciously close to his birthday so he wasn’t even surprised to walk into the mess and find a surprise party waiting for him.
He probably should never have mentioned that he’d never had a birthday party. Though he didn’t regret it in the slightest.
Because the best part about birthday parties were the presents.
Daniel gave him a book, ‘you can never have too many books’ he’d said. It was from his private collection which meant that it was worth more than Dean made in a year and he’d tried to give it back only to have Daniel leave it on his bed the morning that he left.
Ronon gave him a knife, which was the norm. Ronon gave him knives for every holiday in which gifts were given. He’d even got one for Hanukkah even though he’d explained that he wasn’t Jewish. Ronon wouldn’t take the knife back though and it was the one strapped to his thigh when he went through the Stargate
Teyla gave him sticks, and he thought that might be a hint that he wasn’t spending enough time in the gym.
Colonel Sheppard gave him a day off and Dr. Weir ordered him to take it.
Lorne and the rest of his team gave him a box of chocolate to either eat or use to trade for things. The chocolate must have come directly from the Daedalus to his party because they’d been out of Kit Kats six months in.
Rodney gave him a look that said ‘you aren’t as stupid as I once thought you were’ and then tried to take half his chocolate in compensation.
It was the best birthday he’d had since he was four.
Then the Stargate program went public and hell broke loose.
Granted Daniel had warned him during his visit that he thought it was imminent so he wasn’t that surprised when it had happened.
For two days after everyone had to film blurbs for their family talking about Atlantis, Dean had thankfully just come back from a mission gone wrong and had been unconscious in the infirmary so he’d not had to participate. He hadn’t even planned that.
Of course it wasn’t like he could plan the planet of 7 feet tall Amazon women that had taken offense to both the fact that they were wearing clothes when they came through the gate and the fact that they wouldn’t have sex with them.
Lorne had termed it more nicely in the mission report.
Calling it copulation and a difference of opinions on their attire.
He didn’t even mention that Dean had been knocked upside the head with a rock by a 6 foot tall sixteen year old girl and that they’d caught her dragging him back to her tent thing on poles by his foot. It had to have been quite obvious though, he’d come through the gate on a stretcher after all.
He’d been offered the opportunity to film his blurb after he’d woken up. He’d shrugged and said that there wasn’t really anyone that he had to send it to.
He could have it sent to Sammy of course but what would he say?
Sorry for running out on you, hope you and dad are still alive? Wish you were here.
Life went on and it had been so many years since he’d last seen them that dad and Sammy had probably forgotten all about him.
Had probably forgotten about him before that first year was even up.
***************************************
He was 30 when the lawyers showed up in Atlantis.
Honestly he’d been surprised that it had taken them that long. There’d been rumblings about it for six months before they finally showed.
Dean’s team had been on a mission so they’d missed the arrival of the Daedalus, which honestly only upset him because it meant slim pickings when they got their chance to go through the supplies that it had brought in.
He should have known something was up. This mission had been quiet, no one had ended up unconscious or drugged or shot. When they came through the gate Dr. Weir was waiting for them which never happened.
Smiling at them and leading them to the conference room to debrief. Dean had thought he was imagining things when the eyes in the control room seemed to follow them out of the bay.
Dr. Parrish was babbling at him about the purple trees they’d seen and what differences in the air could have caused that and ‘did he see that bright pink flower that was blooming off of it’.
“Dean,” he stopped short, Dr. Parrish running right into him.
He knew that voice. Except it had been a bit more high pitched, prone to breaking when he was angry and it had belonged to a geeky, chubby little fourteen year old.
Not this man that was standing in front of him, shaggy hair and broad shoulders and a suit that was well tailored and looked expensive.
“Sammy.”
***************************************
Sammy yelled at him for two hours, not in front of the others. Dr. Weir had dismissed him to allow him time to catch up with his brother.
“Why didn’t you tell us you had family coming on the Daedalus? We wouldn’t have sent you off world.”
The look on Ronon’s face promised retribution for not sharing the fact that he had a sibling.
Daniel would just pout when he found out, that little disappointed face that caused General O’Neill to agree to things that he wouldn’t under normal circumstances.
Between the two of them he wasn’t sure which was more dangerous. Daniel could be a little hellion when pissed off but Dean had only managed to best Ronon once in all the years they’d been sparring together.
Between Ronon and Daniel he had two best friends and they both demanded honesty above all else.
He didn’t tell any of them that he hadn’t spoken to his brother in twelve years.
He still wasn’t even sure what Colonel Sheppard’s team had been doing there in the first place.
“What are you doing here Sammy?” Dean finally managed to ask when Sammy wound down.
“First off, my name is Sam, I haven’t answered to Sammy in a lot of years, and did you really think that once we figured out where you were that one of us wasn’t going to figure out a way to get here.”
Dean just stared at him, because, what the hell?
“Jesus Dean, we looked for you for two fucking years. Dad stopped hunting anything else and we hunted for you, we thought you were in trouble. That you’d been kidnapped. That you were dead. Then we get this letter a couple of years ago, right after the program went public. ‘Congratulations on your son and his commitment to the SGC’, dad was so glad that you were alive that he wanted to contact you right away, but I told him that we needed to wait for you to make the first move. And you never did you asshole,” Sam glared at him.
“Do you know how much dad was hurt by that? A form letter from the fucking government told us where you were and you couldn’t even be bothered to send a data burst telling us that you were okay.”
Dean narrowed his eyes; Sammy wasn’t going to make him feel sorry for dad or him. Couldn’t, because he’d seen the writing on the wall and he knew that in the scheme of things he was cannon fodder.
Dispensable, disposable.
They hadn’t needed him. If dad’d had to choose between him and Sammy he would have chosen Sammy and never looked back.
“We only have the three of us and then you left and what the hell were we supposed to do?”
“Move on. Christ Sammy you guys didn’t need me, towards the end there half the time dad acted like he expected me to not come back from hunting.”
“Because you were getting reckless, hell he was terrified that you were going to get yourself killed.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Dad didn’t care enough to worry about me dying, the man had two sons and he only treated you like one. I was his little soldier, I wasn’t his son.”
“You are a fucking moron. You and dad… god it’s like you never even knew each other.”
Dean shook his head. “What are you doing here Sammy?”
Sammy ran a hand through his hair and looked suddenly tired.
“I came to take you home.”
“This is my home, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not for good, you can come back if you want. It’s just… dad isn’t as young as he used to be, you need to come home. See him, set things right.”
Dean stared at him, just stared and honestly he wished Ronon were there, or even Dr. Weir. They could both tell him if Sammy was telling him the truth or just blowing smoke up his ass.
He’d never been good at determining when Sammy was lying to him. Because his father had programmed him to be the good older brother, and even with the glitch that had let him leave… faced with Sammy he was conditioned to do what Sammy wanted.
“Fine, but I reserve the right to leave if dad’s being a jack ass.”
“That’s all right, he’s already reserved the right to knock you on your ass if you’re an idiot.”
***************************************
He was 30 when he went home.
Or at least to the home that dad and Sammy had made. They lived in the same town that Dean had run away from 12 years prior.
The white one story house with blue shutters had a white picket fence. Dean wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes.
“Are you sure he’s not possessed?” he asked doubtfully.
“He thought it would be easier for you to find us if we didn’t move around as much,” Sammy said quietly as they sat in the car.
Dean thought he might be waiting for him to make the first move, to open the door.
He saw a curtain move and knew that they were being watched from the house.
He was in uniform; Colonel Sheppard had suggested it and Lorne had backed him up. Telling him that he should look the role.
“He was proud of you Dean. When we got that letter, upset that you chose the Air Force instead of the Marines, but he was still proud of you.”
Dean nodded once, to show that he heard him. If he didn’t acknowledge the fact that Sammy had said something he was prone to repeating it until Dean wanted to beat him to death.
He took a deep breath and shoved his hat on. Opened the door and stepped out.
On the other side of the car Sammy stepped out as well, the front door opened and there was a petite blonde woman, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail standing there. A small child, about four by her side.
The boy was a spitting image of Sammy at that age and Dean felt his breath catch.
“That’s Jess, my wife. And our son. Michael Dean,” Sammy said from behind him. A gentle hand on his back and Dean made the first step before Sammy could push him up the sidewalk.
They were trying to make it impossible for him to go back home.
There was movement behind Jess and Michael, and there was his dad.
An almost full head of silver/gray hair, neat beard on his face and Dean stopped when John did.
Staring at each other and John smiled. A little one that barely curled his lips up that Dean copied. Then John was taking the three steps and pulling Dean into a rough hug and Dean slowly raised his arms to wrap around him.
Sam behind him, long arms holding them together.
“Welcome home son,” John whispered. “Welcome home.”
End
Also, note. I love Papa John.
This is a Supernatural/Stargate/Stargate: Atlantis crossover.
TITLE: Journey’s End
AUTHOR: Melanie
SUMMARY: Dean was ten when he realized that his father viewed him and Sammy differently.
RATING: R. Because Dean and Sam have potty mouths.
PAIRINGS: Gen - there are no declared pairings, though there is definitely some slashy subtext
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own them, I’m only playing.
FEEDBACK: Always welcome.
Journey’s End
Dean was ten when he realized that his father viewed him and Sammy differently. Showering love and affection on the younger boy, and barely acknowledging a particularly well done job with a pat on the head for Dean.
He hadn’t minded when they were younger because he had memories that Sammy didn’t.
He had vague recollections of his mother, of soft hands and a soothing voice and blonde hair that she would dangle against his face causing him to squirm and giggle.
Sammy didn’t have those, Sammy barely remembered even impressions of their mom and for a very awkward five days he’d called Dean mom. He’d been joking of course, doing it to get a rise out of Dean and it had worked until Dean had punched him twice in the arm and Sammy little wuss that he was cried and dad yelled.
Sammy stopped calling him mom though, called him Dean or moron as he felt the occasion warranted.
They’d been camping. A simple camping trip, they weren’t even hunting anything.
Something had been hunting them though, they’d heard howls in the night and dad had said ‘werewolf’ and Sammy had said ‘I’m scared’ and clung to their father.
Dean had gone to lay the lines of salt because dad couldn’t, not with Sammy clinging to him like a limpet, crying and useless.
It had gotten him on the backside of the tent. Dad had called for him and Dean couldn’t even talk, couldn’t even reassure him. His hands had been shaking on the gun that his dad had told him to take.
They might not have been actively hunting but John Winchester was never unprepared.
He’d gotten off two shots and the werewolf had dropped and dad had come out of the tent, Sammy still clinging to him.
He’d gotten yelled at for not answering his dad. He’d not been congratulated for downing an adult werewolf at ten.
Sammy had been hugged and kissed and dad had told him how proud he was of him for being so brave.
Dean was ten when he realized that his dad looked at his two sons and only saw one.
***************************************
Dean was fourteen when he started planning his escape.
He hustled for pool, tricked a little until he decided that while he liked the sex well enough the fact that he was doing it for money might turn him off it all together.
Dad and Sammy never had any clue. He’d give them some of the money, just enough to supplement what dad had. Bought Sammy new sneakers and jeans and t-shirts when he started growing so fast that it seemed like he was outgrowing things on a weekly basis.
Most of it went into a little pocket that he’d sewn in the bottom of his duffel bag. Dad never went in it and Sammy had learned to stop snooping when Dean had replaced his shampoo with blue hair dye.
***************************************
At eighteen he left.
Went out one morning for coffee and just never went back. He had the clothes on his back and the money he’d saved hidden in the bottoms of his shoes, inside pockets on his jacket. He kept twenty in his wallet just for appearances sake.
He caught the bus and went one town over.
Sgt. Erik Hamilton was waiting for him when he walked into the recruitment office. Smiling when he walked through the door and he opened his mouth but Dean didn’t wait to find out what he was going to say.
“I’m here to enlist.”
Short, sweet. To the point.
Sgt. Hamilton had the papers drawn up and when Dean told him he was willing to leave for basic immediately he tried to talk him out of it.
“Spend some time with your family, its going to be a while before you see them again.”
“They’re in the middle of traveling around the U.S. right now,” Dean said, straight face and he’d learned to lie at ten.
When Sammy asked why Dean hated dad, Dean had said he didn’t and learned to hide his emotions better. Until he didn’t feel them at all.
He still loved Sammy, he always would.
If he’d stayed it would have been for him, but Sammy had started talking about a normal life, about what he was going to do when he was old enough to be on his own and Dean had known if he didn’t leave he would be trapped with a father that tolerated him but didn’t love him.
He’d stayed in a motel; the bartender served him even though he could in no way pass for 21. She lied to his father when he came through flashing a picture looking for him.
It was for Sammy he knew, there was no way that dad would be searching for him unless Sammy had pushed it.
He left for basic on a Tuesday morning. It was raining and dreary and the boys sitting around him all looked scared to death and he caught more than one of them asking ‘what the hell have we gotten ourselves into’.
He’d never felt more free.
***************************************
He was 22 when the Stargate program came calling. Of course it hadn’t been called that, not when the idea of it had been pitched to him.
Colonel O’Neill found him at the barracks. Knocking on his door and when Dean held the door open and waited for him to enter he looked around.
“Not one for having belongings, are you,” he commented.
Dean shrugged, having things meant that things could be taken away from you. He chose to have nothing so that no one else would feel compelled to have it.
“I hear you have some sort of affinity for languages,” O’Neill said.
Dean remained silent, he knew some Latin. Had it drilled into him at a young age until he could have performed the two exorcisms they’d done on his own without his dads’ journal.
He’d taken a few classes at the local college once he got to his first base assignment, learned some Spanish, some French. Had taken Russian for a semester until the guys he worked with started looking at him with suspicion and he’d stopped.
Sam had been the smart one, dad had been the gung ho hunter and by default that left dumb blonde to Dean. He’d never been dumb, he’d had numerous teachers tell him that he was smart and just not living up to his potential.
He’d like to have seen them ‘live up to their potential’ while changing schools seemingly once a month.
Besides he’d never thought he’d be that guy, the one who liked learning. He’d just barely tolerated school, definitely could have lived without it. He didn’t know what had prompted the interest in the first place except that it was being paid for.
Sammy had been the one that was going to go to college, Dean only wondered once a week whether or not he’d gotten to.
“If you’re interested I have someone I’d like you to work with,” the Colonel smiled at him and Dean just shrugged. They’d send him where they’d send him.
He’d not talked to Sammy in 4 years.
***************************************
Dr. Daniel Jackson wasn’t anything like what Dean had expected. Off beat, eccentric. Prone to forgetting that he was in the room.
So intelligent that sometimes it scared him.
Dean wasn’t sure what he was doing working in the same room as him. The man knew like 27 languages and on a good day Dean could claim to at least reasonably comprehend 4, one of them English.
It took him a month to realize that he was basically a body guard and the fact that he knew other languages was just the icing on the cake as far as the Colonel was concerned. It was less suspicious if it at least looked like he had a reason to be in the same room with Daniel.
Besides if it had taken him a month to figure it out, Daniel would realize it about three years from then.
***************************************
He was 24 when he went to Atlantis.
They’d been testing everyone in Antarctica for the Ancient gene, Dean had been there because Daniel had been there. He’d been tested because everyone had to sit in the chair.
He didn’t make it do amazing things like that Air Force Major, but he had managed a bit of something and he’d been offered the gig.
He would have turned it down except Daniel had been there when it had been offered and since Daniel had lobbied long and hard to go and had been denied he couldn’t very well turn around and tell him he didn’t want to go.
A one way trip through the gate and he’d gone on a few missions with SG-1 because of Daniel so he kind of knew what to expect.
Days after they got there he’d have his own room and he’d be part of a team, not first contact thank god but he’d been part of the second team and every so often got snagged to look at translations even though he wasn’t Daniel and wasn’t the linguist assigned to the Atlantis group.
When he’d been considering the pros and cons of going, Sammy and dad hadn’t weighed in on either list.
***************************************
He was 28 when the Stargate program went public.
They were fairly sheltered in Atlantis. Daniel made two trips that year on the Daedalus to help him with translations. Their formal linguist had been killed the year prior and the SGC hadn’t seen the point of sending a new one when they had Dean there and Dean had a direct connection to Dr. Daniel Jackson.
He sensed Dr. Weir’s fingerprints all over that, she’d been fighting tooth and nail to keep from inundating Atlantis with too many new faces, not when the old ones, the original ones weren’t complaining about overwork.
Unless you were Dr. McKay, and his complaints were pretty much expected and no weight was lent to them. Until he turned off the power to your rooms and then you knew he needed to get help because he wasn’t sleeping.
So Daniel came twice and the second time was suspiciously close to his birthday so he wasn’t even surprised to walk into the mess and find a surprise party waiting for him.
He probably should never have mentioned that he’d never had a birthday party. Though he didn’t regret it in the slightest.
Because the best part about birthday parties were the presents.
Daniel gave him a book, ‘you can never have too many books’ he’d said. It was from his private collection which meant that it was worth more than Dean made in a year and he’d tried to give it back only to have Daniel leave it on his bed the morning that he left.
Ronon gave him a knife, which was the norm. Ronon gave him knives for every holiday in which gifts were given. He’d even got one for Hanukkah even though he’d explained that he wasn’t Jewish. Ronon wouldn’t take the knife back though and it was the one strapped to his thigh when he went through the Stargate
Teyla gave him sticks, and he thought that might be a hint that he wasn’t spending enough time in the gym.
Colonel Sheppard gave him a day off and Dr. Weir ordered him to take it.
Lorne and the rest of his team gave him a box of chocolate to either eat or use to trade for things. The chocolate must have come directly from the Daedalus to his party because they’d been out of Kit Kats six months in.
Rodney gave him a look that said ‘you aren’t as stupid as I once thought you were’ and then tried to take half his chocolate in compensation.
It was the best birthday he’d had since he was four.
Then the Stargate program went public and hell broke loose.
Granted Daniel had warned him during his visit that he thought it was imminent so he wasn’t that surprised when it had happened.
For two days after everyone had to film blurbs for their family talking about Atlantis, Dean had thankfully just come back from a mission gone wrong and had been unconscious in the infirmary so he’d not had to participate. He hadn’t even planned that.
Of course it wasn’t like he could plan the planet of 7 feet tall Amazon women that had taken offense to both the fact that they were wearing clothes when they came through the gate and the fact that they wouldn’t have sex with them.
Lorne had termed it more nicely in the mission report.
Calling it copulation and a difference of opinions on their attire.
He didn’t even mention that Dean had been knocked upside the head with a rock by a 6 foot tall sixteen year old girl and that they’d caught her dragging him back to her tent thing on poles by his foot. It had to have been quite obvious though, he’d come through the gate on a stretcher after all.
He’d been offered the opportunity to film his blurb after he’d woken up. He’d shrugged and said that there wasn’t really anyone that he had to send it to.
He could have it sent to Sammy of course but what would he say?
Sorry for running out on you, hope you and dad are still alive? Wish you were here.
Life went on and it had been so many years since he’d last seen them that dad and Sammy had probably forgotten all about him.
Had probably forgotten about him before that first year was even up.
***************************************
He was 30 when the lawyers showed up in Atlantis.
Honestly he’d been surprised that it had taken them that long. There’d been rumblings about it for six months before they finally showed.
Dean’s team had been on a mission so they’d missed the arrival of the Daedalus, which honestly only upset him because it meant slim pickings when they got their chance to go through the supplies that it had brought in.
He should have known something was up. This mission had been quiet, no one had ended up unconscious or drugged or shot. When they came through the gate Dr. Weir was waiting for them which never happened.
Smiling at them and leading them to the conference room to debrief. Dean had thought he was imagining things when the eyes in the control room seemed to follow them out of the bay.
Dr. Parrish was babbling at him about the purple trees they’d seen and what differences in the air could have caused that and ‘did he see that bright pink flower that was blooming off of it’.
“Dean,” he stopped short, Dr. Parrish running right into him.
He knew that voice. Except it had been a bit more high pitched, prone to breaking when he was angry and it had belonged to a geeky, chubby little fourteen year old.
Not this man that was standing in front of him, shaggy hair and broad shoulders and a suit that was well tailored and looked expensive.
“Sammy.”
***************************************
Sammy yelled at him for two hours, not in front of the others. Dr. Weir had dismissed him to allow him time to catch up with his brother.
“Why didn’t you tell us you had family coming on the Daedalus? We wouldn’t have sent you off world.”
The look on Ronon’s face promised retribution for not sharing the fact that he had a sibling.
Daniel would just pout when he found out, that little disappointed face that caused General O’Neill to agree to things that he wouldn’t under normal circumstances.
Between the two of them he wasn’t sure which was more dangerous. Daniel could be a little hellion when pissed off but Dean had only managed to best Ronon once in all the years they’d been sparring together.
Between Ronon and Daniel he had two best friends and they both demanded honesty above all else.
He didn’t tell any of them that he hadn’t spoken to his brother in twelve years.
He still wasn’t even sure what Colonel Sheppard’s team had been doing there in the first place.
“What are you doing here Sammy?” Dean finally managed to ask when Sammy wound down.
“First off, my name is Sam, I haven’t answered to Sammy in a lot of years, and did you really think that once we figured out where you were that one of us wasn’t going to figure out a way to get here.”
Dean just stared at him, because, what the hell?
“Jesus Dean, we looked for you for two fucking years. Dad stopped hunting anything else and we hunted for you, we thought you were in trouble. That you’d been kidnapped. That you were dead. Then we get this letter a couple of years ago, right after the program went public. ‘Congratulations on your son and his commitment to the SGC’, dad was so glad that you were alive that he wanted to contact you right away, but I told him that we needed to wait for you to make the first move. And you never did you asshole,” Sam glared at him.
“Do you know how much dad was hurt by that? A form letter from the fucking government told us where you were and you couldn’t even be bothered to send a data burst telling us that you were okay.”
Dean narrowed his eyes; Sammy wasn’t going to make him feel sorry for dad or him. Couldn’t, because he’d seen the writing on the wall and he knew that in the scheme of things he was cannon fodder.
Dispensable, disposable.
They hadn’t needed him. If dad’d had to choose between him and Sammy he would have chosen Sammy and never looked back.
“We only have the three of us and then you left and what the hell were we supposed to do?”
“Move on. Christ Sammy you guys didn’t need me, towards the end there half the time dad acted like he expected me to not come back from hunting.”
“Because you were getting reckless, hell he was terrified that you were going to get yourself killed.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Dad didn’t care enough to worry about me dying, the man had two sons and he only treated you like one. I was his little soldier, I wasn’t his son.”
“You are a fucking moron. You and dad… god it’s like you never even knew each other.”
Dean shook his head. “What are you doing here Sammy?”
Sammy ran a hand through his hair and looked suddenly tired.
“I came to take you home.”
“This is my home, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Not for good, you can come back if you want. It’s just… dad isn’t as young as he used to be, you need to come home. See him, set things right.”
Dean stared at him, just stared and honestly he wished Ronon were there, or even Dr. Weir. They could both tell him if Sammy was telling him the truth or just blowing smoke up his ass.
He’d never been good at determining when Sammy was lying to him. Because his father had programmed him to be the good older brother, and even with the glitch that had let him leave… faced with Sammy he was conditioned to do what Sammy wanted.
“Fine, but I reserve the right to leave if dad’s being a jack ass.”
“That’s all right, he’s already reserved the right to knock you on your ass if you’re an idiot.”
***************************************
He was 30 when he went home.
Or at least to the home that dad and Sammy had made. They lived in the same town that Dean had run away from 12 years prior.
The white one story house with blue shutters had a white picket fence. Dean wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes.
“Are you sure he’s not possessed?” he asked doubtfully.
“He thought it would be easier for you to find us if we didn’t move around as much,” Sammy said quietly as they sat in the car.
Dean thought he might be waiting for him to make the first move, to open the door.
He saw a curtain move and knew that they were being watched from the house.
He was in uniform; Colonel Sheppard had suggested it and Lorne had backed him up. Telling him that he should look the role.
“He was proud of you Dean. When we got that letter, upset that you chose the Air Force instead of the Marines, but he was still proud of you.”
Dean nodded once, to show that he heard him. If he didn’t acknowledge the fact that Sammy had said something he was prone to repeating it until Dean wanted to beat him to death.
He took a deep breath and shoved his hat on. Opened the door and stepped out.
On the other side of the car Sammy stepped out as well, the front door opened and there was a petite blonde woman, hair pulled back in a neat ponytail standing there. A small child, about four by her side.
The boy was a spitting image of Sammy at that age and Dean felt his breath catch.
“That’s Jess, my wife. And our son. Michael Dean,” Sammy said from behind him. A gentle hand on his back and Dean made the first step before Sammy could push him up the sidewalk.
They were trying to make it impossible for him to go back home.
There was movement behind Jess and Michael, and there was his dad.
An almost full head of silver/gray hair, neat beard on his face and Dean stopped when John did.
Staring at each other and John smiled. A little one that barely curled his lips up that Dean copied. Then John was taking the three steps and pulling Dean into a rough hug and Dean slowly raised his arms to wrap around him.
Sam behind him, long arms holding them together.
“Welcome home son,” John whispered. “Welcome home.”
End