The Secret Life - short-fic 3
Title: Family
Series: The Secret Life (Family) of John Sheppard
Word Count: 634
Note: This was written after purple_ribbon pointed out all the possibilities, and I realised that I was missing a character for a later scene. So thanks.
“You should go,” John offers from where he is sprawled out on Rodney’s unmade bed, Mere lying in the V between his left arm and his body, sleeping and making these little sighing noises. Rodney is genuinely torn between watching them for hours on end - because that never gets boring - and staring at the words on the thick expensive paper hoping that they change somehow. Unsurprisingly, they don’t.
We invite you to the Funeral Service of Marie River Sorenson
It’s not something he had ever thought of - what to do if invited to the funeral of the one-night stand who had given birth to his daughter. Who had died giving birth to his daughter. Rodney sighs and looks once again at Mere and John, two of the most beautiful people ever. His beautiful people.
“You could come with us?” Rodney asks awkwardly. John smiles, and it’s genuine, but there is a hint of sadness behind it that Rodney is afraid to ask about. They both know he won’t be going with them, today is about Rodney and Mere, and Marie too, he supposes.
The funeral is much like all the others he had attended; including his own parents, a great aunt who he had never met, his favourite college professor, and two co-workers from Area 51 who had come to an unexpected and deeply classified end. Everyone is sombre and quiet, someone is weeping loudly in the crowd while others just dabbed at their eyes delicately with lace or cotton handkerchiefs. Almost everyone wears black, and the one person who doesn’t stands out like a sore thumb.
She’s in her sixties, her skin heavily tanned and wrinkled, with dyed poppy red hair that falls to her waist. She wears a white dress, long and flowing, with a brown rope like belt and a beaded necklace. She stands there grim faced, nearest the preacher who spouts religious drivel, but didn’t appear to be listening. After the ceremony she approaches Rodney who was just tucking Mere back into her carrier.
“They tell me you’re the father of my girl’s little babe,” she greets him, her accent deep Southern belle.
“I… uh… Rodney McKay,” he finally stutters out. This was Marie’s mother? From little that Rodney remembers of Marie (he had been drunk after all) Marie had dressed fashionably but fairly sedately, her hair had been a natural shade of sandy brown and she’d waxed, not shaved. None of that had prepared him for the hippy-esque woman who now stood in front of him.
“I’m Moon Song,” she shook Rodney’s floundering hand with a firm hand. “My daughter’s birth name was River Song, ‘cept she wanted to be normal. Renamed herself after the scientist - Marie Curie,” she explains, obviously understanding and unsurprised at Rodney’s shock.
“Oh right,” Rodney says, noting that Moon’s eyes are velvet brown and completely dry, but that she had her hands clasped tightly in front of her in an obvious attempt to stop them from shaking. “Uh.. this is her daughter,” he gestures to Mere, and feels like a traitor which makes him realise that he thinks of her as John’s daughter already, even if she’s isn’t biologically.
“She’s beautiful,” Moon says wistfully.
“Her name is Meredith Marie McKay,” Rodney informs her.
“Good, Marie would have liked that,” Moon smiles at Rodney.
“You can visit her,” he blurts out before thinking, but when he sees the tears well up in the velvety eyes he knew that he has done the right thing. “You are her grandmother, after all,” Rodney tells her softly, and they parted with an exchange of addressed and numbers and a promise to visit in a month or two. Rodney left, glad that he had come after all, but even more glad to be going back home where John was.
Series: The Secret Life (Family) of John Sheppard
Word Count: 634
Note: This was written after purple_ribbon pointed out all the possibilities, and I realised that I was missing a character for a later scene. So thanks.
“You should go,” John offers from where he is sprawled out on Rodney’s unmade bed, Mere lying in the V between his left arm and his body, sleeping and making these little sighing noises. Rodney is genuinely torn between watching them for hours on end - because that never gets boring - and staring at the words on the thick expensive paper hoping that they change somehow. Unsurprisingly, they don’t.
We invite you to the Funeral Service of Marie River Sorenson
It’s not something he had ever thought of - what to do if invited to the funeral of the one-night stand who had given birth to his daughter. Who had died giving birth to his daughter. Rodney sighs and looks once again at Mere and John, two of the most beautiful people ever. His beautiful people.
“You could come with us?” Rodney asks awkwardly. John smiles, and it’s genuine, but there is a hint of sadness behind it that Rodney is afraid to ask about. They both know he won’t be going with them, today is about Rodney and Mere, and Marie too, he supposes.
The funeral is much like all the others he had attended; including his own parents, a great aunt who he had never met, his favourite college professor, and two co-workers from Area 51 who had come to an unexpected and deeply classified end. Everyone is sombre and quiet, someone is weeping loudly in the crowd while others just dabbed at their eyes delicately with lace or cotton handkerchiefs. Almost everyone wears black, and the one person who doesn’t stands out like a sore thumb.
She’s in her sixties, her skin heavily tanned and wrinkled, with dyed poppy red hair that falls to her waist. She wears a white dress, long and flowing, with a brown rope like belt and a beaded necklace. She stands there grim faced, nearest the preacher who spouts religious drivel, but didn’t appear to be listening. After the ceremony she approaches Rodney who was just tucking Mere back into her carrier.
“They tell me you’re the father of my girl’s little babe,” she greets him, her accent deep Southern belle.
“I… uh… Rodney McKay,” he finally stutters out. This was Marie’s mother? From little that Rodney remembers of Marie (he had been drunk after all) Marie had dressed fashionably but fairly sedately, her hair had been a natural shade of sandy brown and she’d waxed, not shaved. None of that had prepared him for the hippy-esque woman who now stood in front of him.
“I’m Moon Song,” she shook Rodney’s floundering hand with a firm hand. “My daughter’s birth name was River Song, ‘cept she wanted to be normal. Renamed herself after the scientist - Marie Curie,” she explains, obviously understanding and unsurprised at Rodney’s shock.
“Oh right,” Rodney says, noting that Moon’s eyes are velvet brown and completely dry, but that she had her hands clasped tightly in front of her in an obvious attempt to stop them from shaking. “Uh.. this is her daughter,” he gestures to Mere, and feels like a traitor which makes him realise that he thinks of her as John’s daughter already, even if she’s isn’t biologically.
“She’s beautiful,” Moon says wistfully.
“Her name is Meredith Marie McKay,” Rodney informs her.
“Good, Marie would have liked that,” Moon smiles at Rodney.
“You can visit her,” he blurts out before thinking, but when he sees the tears well up in the velvety eyes he knew that he has done the right thing. “You are her grandmother, after all,” Rodney tells her softly, and they parted with an exchange of addressed and numbers and a promise to visit in a month or two. Rodney left, glad that he had come after all, but even more glad to be going back home where John was.