Second Story by elementalv (Skeevy Ancients Challenge)
Title: Second Story
Author: elementalv
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and alcoholism.
Notes: Late season 4-ish; no spoilers. Roughly 1,500 words.
Summary: Everything changed.
~*~*~
Dr. McKay demanding his presence - check.
Dr. McKay shoving an Ancient gizmo at him - check.
Blinding white light - check.
Sounds of children crying - the hell?
And then he heard, “- up in group three is little Johnny Sheppard, age thirty-two months, from Glyndon, Maryland.”
“Oh, hell no,” because if the pageant wasn’t bad enough, there was his voice, which was high and piping and more than a little panicked.
He felt a sharp tug on his arm, and his mother leaned down to hiss, “John Emerson Sheppard, I never want to hear you cussing again. Now put that smile on your face, because we are not going home without the first place trophy, you hear me?”
“- mama says he wants to grow up to ride horses and be a business man, just like his daddy. Ladies and gentlemen, what do you say we get Johnny and his mama out here on stage? Give them both a big round of applause.”
Then his mother started to drag him out there in front of everyone, and Christ! He didn’t know how he’d managed to forget this bit of childhood humiliation, but he had, and he hoped like hell he could forget it again once he got back to Atlantis. But repression would have to wait until after he killed Dr. McKay for making him activate a Wayback Machine without so much as giving him a word of warning.
“Smile, Johnny,” Mama said. She had a smile plastered on, and he remembered that smile, because even at this age, he could always tell what kind of smile she needed to wear: the smile for Father’s business partners was different than the smile she had for neighbors, and both were different than the one she had for friends. She had a slightly different smile for close family friends, and that was similar to the one she had for family. The one she had on right now was the one she wore when she met strangers for the first time and wanted to make a good impression on them.
It was the same smile she’d spent days and days making John practice, and it was the smile John used to this day when he went on first-contact missions. It was John’s official smile - charming without giving anything away - and over the years, it had gotten him out of some tight spots, particularly with commanding officers, though it rarely worked on Dr. Weir and Colonel Sumner.
Some vestige of self-preservation reared its head, and John forced his face, currently young and unpracticed, into a semblance of his official smile before Mama could pinch him into paying attention. As they walked onstage, he heard her coo, “That’s my Johnny. Now, remember to bow to the judges, sweetheart, then bow to me, just like the little gentleman you are.”
John swallowed hard, because he was starting to remember more, including the fact that he’d lost this contest, and it was the last one he’d ever been in. He remembered Mama crying hard and blaming him for his failure, emphasizing her words with painful pinches to his arms and legs, and then later, much later, apologizing to him in a stink of alcohol and a wash of tears. It wasn’t the first time she’d done something like that, nor was it the last, and Johnny Emerson Sheppard accepted it, because Father said she was ill and allowances had to be made for that illness.
Four years later, Mama died in a car accident, and with the perspective of an adult, John suddenly realized she’d probably been drunk when she drove her car off the road. It made sense, and if his father were still alive, he’d ask him about it. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Patrick Sheppard had never been partial to airing the family’s dirty laundry to anyone, including his son, and having a drunk for a wife would have been pretty damn dirty.
It occurred to him how lonely her life must have been, with a small boy at home and a husband who was hardly ever around. The servants - and there were always quite a few of them no matter which house they were in - they wouldn’t have eased the ache, not for a woman raised to maintain a proper household and keep a proper distance from those beneath her. Her parents and younger sisters had been at least as stilted as Father and would have been less effective than the servants at helping her cope.
John shied away from looking at the audience when they stopped at center stage, choosing to look up at her instead. For the first time in his life, he saw her for who she was: a beautiful and weak woman who tried hard to be something more than who she saw herself to be. She’d been a terrible mother in a lot of ways, but John had loved her nonetheless. Now, though, he forgave her, and that was a hell of an epiphany to have without even the benefit of a few therapy sessions to lead him up to it. He blinked once at the depth of regret he was drowning in, and then he he took a deep breath and made sure his smile was in place. He bowed to the judges first and to Mama second, finishing the routine the same way he had the first time around.
The applause went on for a short time after they got off the stage, and Mama kept looking back, probably to see if she could tell what the judges were thinking. It was typical of her, that desire to please others, and John thought that, more than loneliness, might have led to her drinking in the first place.
Once they were well past the point where she could see the judges’ table, John tugged on her hand until she bent down to him to say, “What is it, honey?”
There was a tinge of alcohol on her breath, but it didn’t stop John from patting her cheek and saying, “I love you, Mama, no matter what.”
Her face softened as she focused her full attention on him, and her lips trembled for a moment before she finally said, “Why - I love you too, Johnny. You’re the most important thing in my life.”
He didn’t know what he would have said next, because at that moment, there was another blinding white light, and he found himself back in Dr. McKay’s lab, with Rodney saying, “- what it does. I tried to initialize it this morning, but nothing happened.”
John stared at Rodney. Not Dr. McKay - Rodney.
For a moment, Rodney stared back before saying, “What? What is it? Is it dead?”
“No,” he said in a harsh voice. “Not dead.”
Rodney said something else, but John was too busy dealing with the sudden change of his memories - which apparently now included Rodney as his best friend instead of a pain in the ass to be tolerated. He still remembered his original timeline, but now there was another one overlaying it, and the second set of memories was different, so very, very different. In the second set, Mama hadn’t hurt him when he lost that day. Instead, she wept a little and told him it didn’t matter, it was only a pipe dream to begin with. She’d taken him out for ice cream, and after that, things at home got a little better. She still drank too much at times, but she mostly avoided John when she did, keeping to her room until she felt better. And when John was four -
“I have a brother,” he said softly.
Rodney frowned. “Of course you do. His name is Dave, right? Ronon mentioned him.”
“Right.” And just like that, he remembered growing up with a younger brother, where he hadn’t done so before. He remembered Ronon, too, even though he knew full well when he woke up that morning that he’d never met an alien called Ronon.
“Are you all right, Sheppard?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Only not, because somehow, Rodney’s Wayback Machine had allowed John to alter his life at a fundamental level, and that was just - it was too much and not enough, because Mama still died when John was a boy, but the second time around, it was an airplane crash, and it hurt a hell of a lot more than the first time she’d died.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Rodney said.
“I -” John took a deep breath. “That thing. It sent me back.”
Rodney frowned. “You never left.”
“But I did. I went - back.”
“Back where?”
John stared into Rodney’s eyes and said, “In time. I went back in time, and now it’s different. Everything is - it’s all - it changed. I changed.”
Rodney asked in a soft, tense voice, “What happened?”
And John, who would have blown off the question in his original history, found himself telling Rodney everything.
~*~*~
Author: elementalv
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and alcoholism.
Notes: Late season 4-ish; no spoilers. Roughly 1,500 words.
Summary: Everything changed.
~*~*~
Dr. McKay demanding his presence - check.
Dr. McKay shoving an Ancient gizmo at him - check.
Blinding white light - check.
Sounds of children crying - the hell?
And then he heard, “- up in group three is little Johnny Sheppard, age thirty-two months, from Glyndon, Maryland.”
“Oh, hell no,” because if the pageant wasn’t bad enough, there was his voice, which was high and piping and more than a little panicked.
He felt a sharp tug on his arm, and his mother leaned down to hiss, “John Emerson Sheppard, I never want to hear you cussing again. Now put that smile on your face, because we are not going home without the first place trophy, you hear me?”
“- mama says he wants to grow up to ride horses and be a business man, just like his daddy. Ladies and gentlemen, what do you say we get Johnny and his mama out here on stage? Give them both a big round of applause.”
Then his mother started to drag him out there in front of everyone, and Christ! He didn’t know how he’d managed to forget this bit of childhood humiliation, but he had, and he hoped like hell he could forget it again once he got back to Atlantis. But repression would have to wait until after he killed Dr. McKay for making him activate a Wayback Machine without so much as giving him a word of warning.
“Smile, Johnny,” Mama said. She had a smile plastered on, and he remembered that smile, because even at this age, he could always tell what kind of smile she needed to wear: the smile for Father’s business partners was different than the smile she had for neighbors, and both were different than the one she had for friends. She had a slightly different smile for close family friends, and that was similar to the one she had for family. The one she had on right now was the one she wore when she met strangers for the first time and wanted to make a good impression on them.
It was the same smile she’d spent days and days making John practice, and it was the smile John used to this day when he went on first-contact missions. It was John’s official smile - charming without giving anything away - and over the years, it had gotten him out of some tight spots, particularly with commanding officers, though it rarely worked on Dr. Weir and Colonel Sumner.
Some vestige of self-preservation reared its head, and John forced his face, currently young and unpracticed, into a semblance of his official smile before Mama could pinch him into paying attention. As they walked onstage, he heard her coo, “That’s my Johnny. Now, remember to bow to the judges, sweetheart, then bow to me, just like the little gentleman you are.”
John swallowed hard, because he was starting to remember more, including the fact that he’d lost this contest, and it was the last one he’d ever been in. He remembered Mama crying hard and blaming him for his failure, emphasizing her words with painful pinches to his arms and legs, and then later, much later, apologizing to him in a stink of alcohol and a wash of tears. It wasn’t the first time she’d done something like that, nor was it the last, and Johnny Emerson Sheppard accepted it, because Father said she was ill and allowances had to be made for that illness.
Four years later, Mama died in a car accident, and with the perspective of an adult, John suddenly realized she’d probably been drunk when she drove her car off the road. It made sense, and if his father were still alive, he’d ask him about it. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Patrick Sheppard had never been partial to airing the family’s dirty laundry to anyone, including his son, and having a drunk for a wife would have been pretty damn dirty.
It occurred to him how lonely her life must have been, with a small boy at home and a husband who was hardly ever around. The servants - and there were always quite a few of them no matter which house they were in - they wouldn’t have eased the ache, not for a woman raised to maintain a proper household and keep a proper distance from those beneath her. Her parents and younger sisters had been at least as stilted as Father and would have been less effective than the servants at helping her cope.
John shied away from looking at the audience when they stopped at center stage, choosing to look up at her instead. For the first time in his life, he saw her for who she was: a beautiful and weak woman who tried hard to be something more than who she saw herself to be. She’d been a terrible mother in a lot of ways, but John had loved her nonetheless. Now, though, he forgave her, and that was a hell of an epiphany to have without even the benefit of a few therapy sessions to lead him up to it. He blinked once at the depth of regret he was drowning in, and then he he took a deep breath and made sure his smile was in place. He bowed to the judges first and to Mama second, finishing the routine the same way he had the first time around.
The applause went on for a short time after they got off the stage, and Mama kept looking back, probably to see if she could tell what the judges were thinking. It was typical of her, that desire to please others, and John thought that, more than loneliness, might have led to her drinking in the first place.
Once they were well past the point where she could see the judges’ table, John tugged on her hand until she bent down to him to say, “What is it, honey?”
There was a tinge of alcohol on her breath, but it didn’t stop John from patting her cheek and saying, “I love you, Mama, no matter what.”
Her face softened as she focused her full attention on him, and her lips trembled for a moment before she finally said, “Why - I love you too, Johnny. You’re the most important thing in my life.”
He didn’t know what he would have said next, because at that moment, there was another blinding white light, and he found himself back in Dr. McKay’s lab, with Rodney saying, “- what it does. I tried to initialize it this morning, but nothing happened.”
John stared at Rodney. Not Dr. McKay - Rodney.
For a moment, Rodney stared back before saying, “What? What is it? Is it dead?”
“No,” he said in a harsh voice. “Not dead.”
Rodney said something else, but John was too busy dealing with the sudden change of his memories - which apparently now included Rodney as his best friend instead of a pain in the ass to be tolerated. He still remembered his original timeline, but now there was another one overlaying it, and the second set of memories was different, so very, very different. In the second set, Mama hadn’t hurt him when he lost that day. Instead, she wept a little and told him it didn’t matter, it was only a pipe dream to begin with. She’d taken him out for ice cream, and after that, things at home got a little better. She still drank too much at times, but she mostly avoided John when she did, keeping to her room until she felt better. And when John was four -
“I have a brother,” he said softly.
Rodney frowned. “Of course you do. His name is Dave, right? Ronon mentioned him.”
“Right.” And just like that, he remembered growing up with a younger brother, where he hadn’t done so before. He remembered Ronon, too, even though he knew full well when he woke up that morning that he’d never met an alien called Ronon.
“Are you all right, Sheppard?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Only not, because somehow, Rodney’s Wayback Machine had allowed John to alter his life at a fundamental level, and that was just - it was too much and not enough, because Mama still died when John was a boy, but the second time around, it was an airplane crash, and it hurt a hell of a lot more than the first time she’d died.
“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Rodney said.
“I -” John took a deep breath. “That thing. It sent me back.”
Rodney frowned. “You never left.”
“But I did. I went - back.”
“Back where?”
John stared into Rodney’s eyes and said, “In time. I went back in time, and now it’s different. Everything is - it’s all - it changed. I changed.”
Rodney asked in a soft, tense voice, “What happened?”
And John, who would have blown off the question in his original history, found himself telling Rodney everything.
~*~*~