Residual - Part 2
Title: Residual - Part 2
Author: ArtemisPrime
Rating: R (for language)
Summary: Jeannie tapped her fingers on her crossed arms, wishing frantically that the line would move faster, that today wasn’t train the new cashier day and, for the unknownth time, that her brother was still on Atlantis.
Characters: John, Jeannie, Elizabeth, Teyla, new scientists, with mentions of: Ronon and Rodney
Angst: yes
Deathfic: no
Spoilers: up to season 3
A/N: This is a continuation of a little story I did almost a year ago. I've since edited that one and added this second part, with beta duties by the fantastic angela~~~. Concrit welcomed!
Link to Part 1 here
Dislcaimer: All things Stargate Atlantis are the property of their respective owners. I'm not making any money off this, just playing with the toys.
*****
The road was slick, the rain having begun about ten minutes after Jeannie restarted the car. It gave her the needed focus to keep her from glancing at John, still pale and a little shaky. The few times she did look over, he was staring ahead, not seeing the road in front of them. She knew the feeling.
A long, silent time later, Jeannie pulled the car into the lot of a Tim Horton’s. "I’ll only be a minute," she said shifting in her seat to look at John a moment. She wanted to smile at him, or him a little reassurance. She pointed at the doughnut shop. "I’ll be right back."
Quickly opening and shutting the car door, Jeannie hurried into the store, shaking herself off of the heavy rain. She glanced over her shoulder a few times waiting in line to reassure herself that John was still in the car, but she needn’t have bothered.
John hadn’t moved.
*****
"Colonel, I am sure that the custom requires each of us to share in the drink," Teyla’s calm voice whispered.
Sheppard glared before finishing off the lager.
Teyla sighed before turning to the village’s diplomat, a smile on her face. "The Colonel finds your drink quite refreshing."
The diplomat smiled. "Then let us get him another so that we may cement our new ties." He opened his arms and an aide brought out a large decanter, quickly refilling Sheppard’s mug and producing mugs for each member of the team.
The next three weeks became blurry.
Ridiculous mission after ridiculous mission filled his time between avoiding Elizabeth, wanting to seriously punch the newest science member of his team and ducking the worrying looks of Teyla and Ronon.
Thank God for the mainland and Athosian ale.
*****
Jeannie tapped her fingers on her crossed arms, wishing frantically that the line would move faster, that today wasn’t train the new cashier day and, for the unknownth time, that her brother was still on Atlantis.
She huffed and glared, but nothing made the line any shorter.
Finally, finally, she was able to give her order, nearly yelling obscenities at the teenaged server who gave her a small instead of large black coffee. She shut her eyes tight, willing herself to calm down. "Sorry," she muttered, grabbing her change and rushing out the door.
Another run through the even heavier Vancouver rain, she yanked open the car door and sat with an exasperated huff. The windows were beginning to fog. She popped the coffee from the cardboard drink carry-out and handed it to John. "Here you go."
Cautiously, she touched his arm. "John?"
A slow moment later, John faced Jeannie. She jiggled the drink. "You want to take this? It’s a bit hot."
Without real thought, he took the coffee in his right hand then looked to Jeannie again. "Thanks."
Jeannie smiled, glad that John had found his voice again. "Sure." She reached behind her seat to place the tray on the floor, grabbing her own apple juice and leaving the other coffee. Kaleb always had a soft spot for Tim Horton’s coffee, despite its non-organic make-up.
Twisting the cap, Jeannie took a long drink of the cold juice. The refreshment felt wonderful in the high humidity of the day. She peered out the window after wiping away the fog. It was hard to see past the rain. "Looks like it might rain all day." She took another drink before replacing the cap and putting the bottle in the car’s drink holder next to her. "We should probably get going."
Jeannie turned the keys and the engine started. Minutes later, they were on Marine Drive heading towards Ambleside, the car’s defogger barely able to contend with the humidity.
"You don’t have to drink it," Jeannie said, nodding to the untouched coffee still in John’s hand.
*****
After the fifth mission, Dunsmore quit.
"You care to explain to me why another scientist, the fourth one, has asked to be removed from your team?" Doctor Weir inquired, looking for all the world like a stern school mistress.
Sheppard shrugged. He looked around the office, noting the newest gifts from some new ally. He ran his tongue across the inside of his mouth.
Elizabeth leaned against her desk, hands next to her gripping the edges. "John, I know it’s been hard for you these last couple of months."
John’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
"But we still have a job to do. We can’t let our personal feelings interfere with the purpose of the expedition."
Sheppard stood. "Are we finished here?" His lazy drawl was forced.
"No, we’re not." Elizabeth stepped forward.
John stepped back.
"We need to be out there and I need my primary team out there. Doing its job." She paused. "This isn’t what Rodney would want," she added softly.
John clenched his right hand, his left finding its way into his front pocket.
"You can’t ignore this." She took another tentative step. "You’ve got to deal with it."
I am dealing with it. Now shut the fuck up. "We’re done," he said instead, and began walking out of Elizabeth’s office.
"Don’t make me order you, John," she warned.
Sheppard turned but didn’t look at her.
Elizabeth brought her shoulders back and lifted her chin. "I can take you off missions."
Taking a moment to process what Elizabeth was saying, he faced her, head titling a little. "Are you threatening me?"
"I’m offering you help, John. Please, take it."
He could feel his body vibrating, slowly shaking apart. He clenched his teeth in the hope that that would keep him together. "Fine. I’ll play nice with the next one."
"And see Doctor Heightmeyer." Elizabeth held his eyes. Don’t make me take Atlantis from you, she was really saying. Don’t make me force you to give her up, too.
What choice did he have? He nodded curtly and left.
*****
With a turn of the key, Jeannie shut off the car’s engine. It was still a marvel to her that the engine could be so quiet. Even now, there weren’t the usual pings and pops that followed the shutdown of a typical combustion engine. Hybrids really were a wonderful thing.
Grabbing up the remaining coffee from behind her seat and her now empty juice bottle next to her, Jeannie reached over and nudged John. "Hey. We’re home."
Atlantis?
John blinked then focussed on the house sitting up the little hill to his right. "Yeah." He unfastened his seatbelt, moved to open the door and proceeded to spill his coffee on him and the car seat. "Shit!" He jumped out of the car and watched as she began to mop up the coffee as best as she could. John merely stood in the rain.
"C’mon," she told him gently, touching his shoulder to get his attention. "You need to dry off."
*****
P2S-627 was like pretty much every other backward, agrarian culture they had encountered since coming to Pegasus. That meant grassy valleys, mountains and trees. Lots of fucking trees.
The team traversed the few kilometres from the gate to the large village, occasionally stopping when the scientist-for-today’s-mission Langford wanted to further check out some plants or animal shit left behind.
It did little to help Sheppard’s mood and the rest of team knew it. Ronon said nothing, taking up point very far ahead. Teyla made small talk with Langford or would examine the Pegasus version of dandelion with him, but kept her eye on John.
He just wished he could get the hell out of here and back to his quarters.
Feeling thirsty, John raised his canteen and took an unsatisfying drink. "C’mon. I’d like to be back before dark."
Teyla walked over to John who was waiting impatiently for the scientist. "Doctor Langford is still new to away missions, Colonel. It will do no one any good to rush him."
He’s no McKay, is what John heard. Shifting his P90, he said, "Fine. But tell him that this is the last time we stop."
Teyla nodded and informed the doctor. The team was back on the trail and meeting the village leaders shortly thereafter. They made a new trade deal to take effect in the following spring and a celebration ensued.
Ronon listened to the hunters’ stories while Teyla offered her own tales, passed down from one Athosian generation to the next. Langford strolled the village with a pretty redhead.
And John was about to start his first barfight.
It ended with the team running hell bent for the gate, Ronon reaching it first and dialling it up. They jumped through, along with a few arrows, and were faced with a concerned Elizabeth.
"What happened?"
Sheppard ignored her.
Her concern changed to anger. "Colonel!"
Sheppard tightened his split lip and turned slowly. The control room personnel went quiet, feeling the anger from their leaders.
"You want to explain what the hell happened?" she persisted.
"Not really. No." Sheppard drawled easily, but his body tensed.
"Well, too bad. My office. Now!"
Weir strode up the stairs, straight backed, and into her office. John followed, avoiding anyone’s eye. He stood at the doorway, feeling like he was being scrutinised.
It was silent a long time before Elizabeth spoke. "You’re drunk." When he didn’t disagree, she rubbed her finger and thumb across her forehead. "Did you start the fight?"
"What fight?"
"Don’t insult either of us, Colonel," Weir admonished. "How much damage was done?"
Sheppard cracked and stretched his left hand. "Bit of swelling and maybe a black eye, but I’ll survive."
"I didn’t mean you."
He looked to Elizabeth a long while, trying to determine what she was thinking. Damn her diplomat’s face.
"This stops, John," she said softly, but firmly.
What?
"I can’t ignore this any longer," she said, half to herself. She composed herself and breathed out. "You are relieved of command."
John burst out laughing. "You can’t do that." He looked to the walls of her office, suddenly hating their colour.
Elizabeth pulled a file from her desk. "I can." She opened it and began reading aloud. "Doctor Heightmeyer has determined that you are not in an ‘appropriate mental state’ to be the military leader of Atlantis. That you are suffering from depression and that avoiding the issue is further contributing to your mental breakdown."
John stared wide-eyed at the folder. Fucking bitch! I am not having a fucking breakdown! He stormed towards her. “She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about,” he snarled.
"Regulations are quite clear, Colonel," Weir continued. "You are unfit for command." She swallowed and held her ground.
He raised his hand, fingers clenching. She could see him shaking, he knew that. He shut his eyes tight then opened them, wishing he was dreaming.
"Call it temporary leave," she said. "Call it vacation. Call it whatever you want, but you’ve got to get yourself together. Please, John. Atlantis needs you. Don’t turn your back on her or us."
His eyes narrowed. She was kicking him out. He knew that, too.
Abruptly, John turned on his heel and walked out. "Go to hell."
*****
John followed Jeannie up the path and into the house, shucking his shoes and disappearing into the small guest room. He fell soggily onto the bed, his breathing rough.
Jesus, he hated being wet. Fucking hated it.
Tearing at his jacket, he flung it across the room and ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it away as well. His nostrils flared as he rooted through his duffle at the foot of the bed and felt the glass bottle. He pulled it out, and it was heavy and dark, fitting nicely into his hand.
He didn’t hear the knock at his door. Didn’t hear the soft creak as it opened. Didn’t hear Jeannie say that she had a towel for him.
He only saw her glance at the bottle and the confused and horribly sad look on her face before she bolted.
John immediately jumped off the bed and followed Jeannie into the kitchen, grabbing her arm before she opened the back door.
"No!" she cried, straining against his too tight grip, choking back a sob. "No. You don’t get to do this."
He let go of her and stepped back, bewildered. "Jeannie..."
She shook her head and he could see the tears falling, her body trembling.
"It’s...I...Come sit down." John held out his hand, hoping that she would take it and not fall into a heap on the floor, or worse, slap his hand away. After a slight hesitation, she let him guide her to a kitchen chair and he ran a glass of water for her.
"I know I’m being ridiculous," she began, getting her breathing under control.
John sat down in the chair beside her and waited for her to continue. "Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? Do you?"
John couldn’t answer.
"I was the one who got the phone call. I was the one who saw him at the hospital when he was first brought in. Oh God," she whispered, "he was so..." Fresh tears fell. "And what was I supposed to do? We all waited, that’s what. Hours, just hours of nothing but waiting. And then the doctor saying it was too early to say." She pushed her palms into her eyes. "It was the worst thing I’d ever experienced, but I had to get through it, you know? For Mer."
She gulped some water. "Every day, I went over, praying for something good. But it never came. And I still had Maddie and Kaleb to think about. God. Jesus." Red eyes looked to John. "And I had horrible thoughts...that I sometimes wished he’d just died. That it would have been so much easier." New tears fell.
"Then you came and I thought it might be easier to... God, I don’t know, something. But it wasn’t because you looked at him like he was some sort of freak." She pounded the table. "John! He’s my brother!" She angrily wiped her cheeks. "You feel all sad and sorry for yourself and get drunk. What kind of friend is that? Tell me, John, what kind of friend are you?"
A real shitty one, John thought, but didn’t answer her.
"God, of all the things that could’ve... Why didn’t I tell him?" Jeannie’s anger was gone as quickly as it had come. "Why didn’t I remind him that he was on Earth again? That he needed to wear his seatbelt." She squeezed her eyes and clasped her hands together. "God, Mer, I’m so sorry," she whispered.
John looked at her but couldn’t say anything. There really wasn’t anything to say, was there? Nothing could make this any better. It wasn’t her fault though. He knew that. He knew where to lay the blame. And he didn’t have to look any further than himself.
Author: ArtemisPrime
Rating: R (for language)
Summary: Jeannie tapped her fingers on her crossed arms, wishing frantically that the line would move faster, that today wasn’t train the new cashier day and, for the unknownth time, that her brother was still on Atlantis.
Characters: John, Jeannie, Elizabeth, Teyla, new scientists, with mentions of: Ronon and Rodney
Angst: yes
Deathfic: no
Spoilers: up to season 3
A/N: This is a continuation of a little story I did almost a year ago. I've since edited that one and added this second part, with beta duties by the fantastic angela~~~. Concrit welcomed!
Link to Part 1 here
Dislcaimer: All things Stargate Atlantis are the property of their respective owners. I'm not making any money off this, just playing with the toys.
*****
The road was slick, the rain having begun about ten minutes after Jeannie restarted the car. It gave her the needed focus to keep her from glancing at John, still pale and a little shaky. The few times she did look over, he was staring ahead, not seeing the road in front of them. She knew the feeling.
A long, silent time later, Jeannie pulled the car into the lot of a Tim Horton’s. "I’ll only be a minute," she said shifting in her seat to look at John a moment. She wanted to smile at him, or him a little reassurance. She pointed at the doughnut shop. "I’ll be right back."
Quickly opening and shutting the car door, Jeannie hurried into the store, shaking herself off of the heavy rain. She glanced over her shoulder a few times waiting in line to reassure herself that John was still in the car, but she needn’t have bothered.
John hadn’t moved.
*****
"Colonel, I am sure that the custom requires each of us to share in the drink," Teyla’s calm voice whispered.
Sheppard glared before finishing off the lager.
Teyla sighed before turning to the village’s diplomat, a smile on her face. "The Colonel finds your drink quite refreshing."
The diplomat smiled. "Then let us get him another so that we may cement our new ties." He opened his arms and an aide brought out a large decanter, quickly refilling Sheppard’s mug and producing mugs for each member of the team.
The next three weeks became blurry.
Ridiculous mission after ridiculous mission filled his time between avoiding Elizabeth, wanting to seriously punch the newest science member of his team and ducking the worrying looks of Teyla and Ronon.
Thank God for the mainland and Athosian ale.
*****
Jeannie tapped her fingers on her crossed arms, wishing frantically that the line would move faster, that today wasn’t train the new cashier day and, for the unknownth time, that her brother was still on Atlantis.
She huffed and glared, but nothing made the line any shorter.
Finally, finally, she was able to give her order, nearly yelling obscenities at the teenaged server who gave her a small instead of large black coffee. She shut her eyes tight, willing herself to calm down. "Sorry," she muttered, grabbing her change and rushing out the door.
Another run through the even heavier Vancouver rain, she yanked open the car door and sat with an exasperated huff. The windows were beginning to fog. She popped the coffee from the cardboard drink carry-out and handed it to John. "Here you go."
Cautiously, she touched his arm. "John?"
A slow moment later, John faced Jeannie. She jiggled the drink. "You want to take this? It’s a bit hot."
Without real thought, he took the coffee in his right hand then looked to Jeannie again. "Thanks."
Jeannie smiled, glad that John had found his voice again. "Sure." She reached behind her seat to place the tray on the floor, grabbing her own apple juice and leaving the other coffee. Kaleb always had a soft spot for Tim Horton’s coffee, despite its non-organic make-up.
Twisting the cap, Jeannie took a long drink of the cold juice. The refreshment felt wonderful in the high humidity of the day. She peered out the window after wiping away the fog. It was hard to see past the rain. "Looks like it might rain all day." She took another drink before replacing the cap and putting the bottle in the car’s drink holder next to her. "We should probably get going."
Jeannie turned the keys and the engine started. Minutes later, they were on Marine Drive heading towards Ambleside, the car’s defogger barely able to contend with the humidity.
"You don’t have to drink it," Jeannie said, nodding to the untouched coffee still in John’s hand.
*****
After the fifth mission, Dunsmore quit.
"You care to explain to me why another scientist, the fourth one, has asked to be removed from your team?" Doctor Weir inquired, looking for all the world like a stern school mistress.
Sheppard shrugged. He looked around the office, noting the newest gifts from some new ally. He ran his tongue across the inside of his mouth.
Elizabeth leaned against her desk, hands next to her gripping the edges. "John, I know it’s been hard for you these last couple of months."
John’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
"But we still have a job to do. We can’t let our personal feelings interfere with the purpose of the expedition."
Sheppard stood. "Are we finished here?" His lazy drawl was forced.
"No, we’re not." Elizabeth stepped forward.
John stepped back.
"We need to be out there and I need my primary team out there. Doing its job." She paused. "This isn’t what Rodney would want," she added softly.
John clenched his right hand, his left finding its way into his front pocket.
"You can’t ignore this." She took another tentative step. "You’ve got to deal with it."
I am dealing with it. Now shut the fuck up. "We’re done," he said instead, and began walking out of Elizabeth’s office.
"Don’t make me order you, John," she warned.
Sheppard turned but didn’t look at her.
Elizabeth brought her shoulders back and lifted her chin. "I can take you off missions."
Taking a moment to process what Elizabeth was saying, he faced her, head titling a little. "Are you threatening me?"
"I’m offering you help, John. Please, take it."
He could feel his body vibrating, slowly shaking apart. He clenched his teeth in the hope that that would keep him together. "Fine. I’ll play nice with the next one."
"And see Doctor Heightmeyer." Elizabeth held his eyes. Don’t make me take Atlantis from you, she was really saying. Don’t make me force you to give her up, too.
What choice did he have? He nodded curtly and left.
*****
With a turn of the key, Jeannie shut off the car’s engine. It was still a marvel to her that the engine could be so quiet. Even now, there weren’t the usual pings and pops that followed the shutdown of a typical combustion engine. Hybrids really were a wonderful thing.
Grabbing up the remaining coffee from behind her seat and her now empty juice bottle next to her, Jeannie reached over and nudged John. "Hey. We’re home."
Atlantis?
John blinked then focussed on the house sitting up the little hill to his right. "Yeah." He unfastened his seatbelt, moved to open the door and proceeded to spill his coffee on him and the car seat. "Shit!" He jumped out of the car and watched as she began to mop up the coffee as best as she could. John merely stood in the rain.
"C’mon," she told him gently, touching his shoulder to get his attention. "You need to dry off."
*****
P2S-627 was like pretty much every other backward, agrarian culture they had encountered since coming to Pegasus. That meant grassy valleys, mountains and trees. Lots of fucking trees.
The team traversed the few kilometres from the gate to the large village, occasionally stopping when the scientist-for-today’s-mission Langford wanted to further check out some plants or animal shit left behind.
It did little to help Sheppard’s mood and the rest of team knew it. Ronon said nothing, taking up point very far ahead. Teyla made small talk with Langford or would examine the Pegasus version of dandelion with him, but kept her eye on John.
He just wished he could get the hell out of here and back to his quarters.
Feeling thirsty, John raised his canteen and took an unsatisfying drink. "C’mon. I’d like to be back before dark."
Teyla walked over to John who was waiting impatiently for the scientist. "Doctor Langford is still new to away missions, Colonel. It will do no one any good to rush him."
He’s no McKay, is what John heard. Shifting his P90, he said, "Fine. But tell him that this is the last time we stop."
Teyla nodded and informed the doctor. The team was back on the trail and meeting the village leaders shortly thereafter. They made a new trade deal to take effect in the following spring and a celebration ensued.
Ronon listened to the hunters’ stories while Teyla offered her own tales, passed down from one Athosian generation to the next. Langford strolled the village with a pretty redhead.
And John was about to start his first barfight.
It ended with the team running hell bent for the gate, Ronon reaching it first and dialling it up. They jumped through, along with a few arrows, and were faced with a concerned Elizabeth.
"What happened?"
Sheppard ignored her.
Her concern changed to anger. "Colonel!"
Sheppard tightened his split lip and turned slowly. The control room personnel went quiet, feeling the anger from their leaders.
"You want to explain what the hell happened?" she persisted.
"Not really. No." Sheppard drawled easily, but his body tensed.
"Well, too bad. My office. Now!"
Weir strode up the stairs, straight backed, and into her office. John followed, avoiding anyone’s eye. He stood at the doorway, feeling like he was being scrutinised.
It was silent a long time before Elizabeth spoke. "You’re drunk." When he didn’t disagree, she rubbed her finger and thumb across her forehead. "Did you start the fight?"
"What fight?"
"Don’t insult either of us, Colonel," Weir admonished. "How much damage was done?"
Sheppard cracked and stretched his left hand. "Bit of swelling and maybe a black eye, but I’ll survive."
"I didn’t mean you."
He looked to Elizabeth a long while, trying to determine what she was thinking. Damn her diplomat’s face.
"This stops, John," she said softly, but firmly.
What?
"I can’t ignore this any longer," she said, half to herself. She composed herself and breathed out. "You are relieved of command."
John burst out laughing. "You can’t do that." He looked to the walls of her office, suddenly hating their colour.
Elizabeth pulled a file from her desk. "I can." She opened it and began reading aloud. "Doctor Heightmeyer has determined that you are not in an ‘appropriate mental state’ to be the military leader of Atlantis. That you are suffering from depression and that avoiding the issue is further contributing to your mental breakdown."
John stared wide-eyed at the folder. Fucking bitch! I am not having a fucking breakdown! He stormed towards her. “She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about,” he snarled.
"Regulations are quite clear, Colonel," Weir continued. "You are unfit for command." She swallowed and held her ground.
He raised his hand, fingers clenching. She could see him shaking, he knew that. He shut his eyes tight then opened them, wishing he was dreaming.
"Call it temporary leave," she said. "Call it vacation. Call it whatever you want, but you’ve got to get yourself together. Please, John. Atlantis needs you. Don’t turn your back on her or us."
His eyes narrowed. She was kicking him out. He knew that, too.
Abruptly, John turned on his heel and walked out. "Go to hell."
*****
John followed Jeannie up the path and into the house, shucking his shoes and disappearing into the small guest room. He fell soggily onto the bed, his breathing rough.
Jesus, he hated being wet. Fucking hated it.
Tearing at his jacket, he flung it across the room and ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it away as well. His nostrils flared as he rooted through his duffle at the foot of the bed and felt the glass bottle. He pulled it out, and it was heavy and dark, fitting nicely into his hand.
He didn’t hear the knock at his door. Didn’t hear the soft creak as it opened. Didn’t hear Jeannie say that she had a towel for him.
He only saw her glance at the bottle and the confused and horribly sad look on her face before she bolted.
John immediately jumped off the bed and followed Jeannie into the kitchen, grabbing her arm before she opened the back door.
"No!" she cried, straining against his too tight grip, choking back a sob. "No. You don’t get to do this."
He let go of her and stepped back, bewildered. "Jeannie..."
She shook her head and he could see the tears falling, her body trembling.
"It’s...I...Come sit down." John held out his hand, hoping that she would take it and not fall into a heap on the floor, or worse, slap his hand away. After a slight hesitation, she let him guide her to a kitchen chair and he ran a glass of water for her.
"I know I’m being ridiculous," she began, getting her breathing under control.
John sat down in the chair beside her and waited for her to continue. "Do you have any idea how hard this has been for me? Do you?"
John couldn’t answer.
"I was the one who got the phone call. I was the one who saw him at the hospital when he was first brought in. Oh God," she whispered, "he was so..." Fresh tears fell. "And what was I supposed to do? We all waited, that’s what. Hours, just hours of nothing but waiting. And then the doctor saying it was too early to say." She pushed her palms into her eyes. "It was the worst thing I’d ever experienced, but I had to get through it, you know? For Mer."
She gulped some water. "Every day, I went over, praying for something good. But it never came. And I still had Maddie and Kaleb to think about. God. Jesus." Red eyes looked to John. "And I had horrible thoughts...that I sometimes wished he’d just died. That it would have been so much easier." New tears fell.
"Then you came and I thought it might be easier to... God, I don’t know, something. But it wasn’t because you looked at him like he was some sort of freak." She pounded the table. "John! He’s my brother!" She angrily wiped her cheeks. "You feel all sad and sorry for yourself and get drunk. What kind of friend is that? Tell me, John, what kind of friend are you?"
A real shitty one, John thought, but didn’t answer her.
"God, of all the things that could’ve... Why didn’t I tell him?" Jeannie’s anger was gone as quickly as it had come. "Why didn’t I remind him that he was on Earth again? That he needed to wear his seatbelt." She squeezed her eyes and clasped her hands together. "God, Mer, I’m so sorry," she whispered.
John looked at her but couldn’t say anything. There really wasn’t anything to say, was there? Nothing could make this any better. It wasn’t her fault though. He knew that. He knew where to lay the blame. And he didn’t have to look any further than himself.