Fic: Owning Yourself (No Precious Time Series, 27/28)
Title: Owning Yourself (No Precious Time Series, 27/28)
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself." - Friedrich Nietzsche
"I don't know," Kavanagh said, moving a chess piece, and wasn't it totally screwed up that he'd turned out to be more welcoming and helpful when John was at the SGC than practically anyone else? "I don't think you should have left. Getting back to Atlantis isn't that easy."
"You did it," John answered, moving his knight. "And no one even liked you."
Kavanagh pounced on the knight with his bishop, then pointed at John with it. "Exactly. Sometimes it's easier that way. No one can argue that there was any preferential treatment going on."
"That's totally fucked," John answered, staring at the board, not that he needed to.
"Politics, even on a small-scale, often are," Kavanagh answered.
John took the bishop with his queen. "Check." He rolled the piece around in his hand a moment. "And if it doesn't work out, they're all probably better off without me anyway."
***
"I hate him so much," Rodney muttered, staring darkly at the ceiling of the bedroom.
He couldn't sleep anymore. The bed was too big and too cold without John in it. He was operating on maybe four hours a night at this point. Because Rodney wasn't sleeping, Carson was losing sleep as well.
They'd spent half the evening sniping at each other and Rodney couldn't even remember why.
Carson sighed and curled against him, apparently too tired to even defend John at this point.
"He's probably off kirking somewhere right now, forgotten all about us."
***
"Bartender," John called, his syllables already beginning to lengthen. "'Nother one."
The barkeep gave him a speculative look. "Gonna have to ask for your keys, buddy."
John sighed and handed them over.
The barkeep hung them on a board behind him and then delivered another drink. "You know, Al makes a pretty good burger."
"Think I need fattening up?"
"I think you've been in here every night this week and done nothing but drink. Not a whole lot of nutrition in a liquid dinner."
"You talked me into it."
"What do you like on it?"
John shrugged. "Throw everything on it. I'm not picky."
The barkeep turned and John almost missed the person slinking up to the barstool beside him. "Hi!" she said, a little too brightly.
John blinked. "Not interested. I've got someone."
"Oh, really? Someone who's let you go out every night this week without coming with you?"
John stared into his drink, thinking of Carson, wondering if he was okay, thinking of Rodney, wondering if he'd ever forgive him. "He would if he was home."
Her smile got a little brittle at the 'he' but there was a predatory 'I can lower your Kinsey score' look in her eyes. "Business trip?"
"Military," John lied. "A million miles away."
"Oh. I thought there were rules."
"The rules suck." John downed his drink and slid it across the bar. "Set me up again."
***
"Results are back on the fetal ATA test," Thea reported, handing Carson a notebook computer.
Carson took it and studied the report. "You're sure of this?"
Thea nodded. "Both alleles code for the gene, just like in Colonel Sheppard and General O'Neill."
"Ah, such a strong gene." Carson shook his head, thinking about the multitude of birth defects already showing up. That Veza was still willing to carry this child, that her Athosian lover was willing to be a father to it-- him, Carson reminded himself-- was amazing. "This one would be the maternal gene," Carson said, pointing, then checked the other one. "This sequence before the ATA is usually a good sign of a strong gene, though not always. It's too bad we can't locate the father."
"Oh, but we can," Thea answered, pointing at a segment. "This sequence here just after the gene is very unusual. In fact, we've only seen it in one carrier."
Carson looked up, eyes wide, and licked his lips, suspecting. "Have you run any other paternal identity tests?"
"Yes, I have. It confirmed my suspicions."
***
"Wallace and Gromit?" Kavanagh asked, peering at John's laptop screen.
John paused the movie and set the laptop aside, replacing it with the chessboard and pieces he kept set up for lunch. "Yeah. Got introduced to it on Atlantis."
Kavanagh nodded, studying their unfinished game. "I seem to recall Doctor McKay quoting it now and again."
John looked away. "Yeah."
"I never got what you saw in him anyway," Kavanagh said, moving his rook. "I mean, sure, he might be the most brilliant mind in two galaxies, but there are lots of close seconds who have a lot more social skills. Even I'd make a better choice."
John froze, mid-reach. "You're not hitting on me, are you, Kavanagh?"
Kavanagh smirked. "No way in Hell, Sheppard. I happen to appreciate breasts, curves, and a little padding on my lovers."
"Oh, so more like Rodney."
Kavanagh snorted. "I should so write him and tell him you said he has breasts."
"He wouldn't believe you."
"I know." Kavanagh heaved a put-upon sigh. "So much blackmail material, so few believers."
***
"What is it with you military types and Back to the Future?"
Lorne shrugged. "Look, McKay, I'm not asking you to watch it. I just want to borrow it."
Rodney cast a glance at the shelves where their DVD collection was arranged. "I, uh, I don't think we have it, actually. You'll have to ask someone else."
"You could take a couple seconds and look, McKay. Oh, never mind. I'll go look myself."
"You can't!" Rodney yelped.
Lorne raised an eyebrow. "I can't?"
"No! There's-- There's... um... gay military porn over there. And, uh, I wouldn't want you to... uh... you know. So, you can't come in."
"That's the lamest excuse ever." Lorne huffed and turned, walking away muttering.
Rodney watched him leave and then thought of something. "Huh."
***
"Hello, John. I thought you might appreciate this, courtesy of Rodney hacking a few security archives. We'll be watching it ourselves about nine tonight. We thought you might like to join us, at least in spirit." Carson leaned forward, eyes bright. "We really miss you. I know Rodney doesn't say so in his letters, but he's really hurting, John. We love you and we need you back here."
John leaned back, clutching the dildo as the video began-- Rodney and Carson carefully securing John's wrists and ankles to the bed. John moaned as he watched Rodney's mouth making a slow journey down his body, Carson coating his fingers with slick and then slowly teasing around John's hole.
On Atlantis, Carson's fingers slipped into Rodney's body, tongue lapping out to taste Rodney's cock, as they watched John's hands curl around the cords holding him to the bed as Carson worked him open and Rodney straddled John's chest and slid his cock into John's mouth.
As John watched Carson thrust into him on the video, John slid the dildo into himself, arching and groaning, remembering the taste and feel of Rodney's cock pushing into his throat.
Carson shuddered, throbbing into Rodney's body as John on the video arched and came, Carson and Rodney still thrusting into him in rhythm. He pulled out quickly, still dribbling, and slid down to take Rodney into his mouth. He'd barely taken the head of Rodney's cock in before his lover was filling his mouth.
"Ungh!" John gasped as Carson and Rodney on the video both stuttered in their motions and then thrust in deep, the memory of the twin sensations of their filling him pulling John over the edge, striping his body with his come.
Rodney stared up at the ceiling, his eyes suddenly swimming with tears. "He's not coming back to us, is he?"
Carson drew him into his arms. "I don't know, love. I don't know."
John lay, arm slung over his eyes. He'd thought it would be better, that he could be more... balanced here, where no one knew what he'd been through, where the corridors didn't ring of memories of desperation and pain. But there was no presence of the city at the back of his mind. He'd walked into a dozen doors. And his bed was at once too small and too large at night... and much too cold.
***
"So, why Atlantis?" O'Neill asked.
"As my report said, access to parts, the Ancient database, and away from prying eyes."
"Yes, I get that those are the official reasons," O'Neill said. "I'm curious about the unofficial ones."
John shrugged. "I miss it, I guess."
O'Neill studied him a moment, then shrugged. "Good enough. I need your staff and equipment requirements before I can make any recommendations to the IOA. Who'd be directly under you? Zelenka?"
John shifted uncomfortably. "No. I wouldn't want to take him from Rodney." He considered a moment, knowing Elizabeth was going to kill him. "I was actually thinking Doctor Kavanagh."
O'Neill's eyebrows shot up. "Well... that would be an interesting choice."
John shrugged. "Small-scale politics."
***
Carson rolled out of bed, blinking sleep from his eyes, and answered the apartment door. Colonel Lorne stood there. He blinked at Carson.
"You aren't ready."
"What?" Carson answered, confused.
"They were supposed to call you."
"Who?"
"Well, either the control center or the infirmary. No one called you?"
Carson ran a hand through his hair. "Son, you're going to have to go back to the beginning."
Lorne stepped in, dragging Carson into the bedroom. "Get dressed. Halling called from the Mainland. Veza's in labour."
"It's too early," Carson said, halfway into his trousers.
"I know. That's why they're sending a medical team and bringing her back to Atlantis. I'm flying, you're heading the team. Are you ready?"
"I am now." Carson scooped up his earpiece and leaned over to give Rodney a quick kiss. "Medical emergency, love. I'll call you later."
Rodney murmured an acknowledgement and was already softly snoring again before Carson had crossed the room.
"Infirmary, this is Lorne," the colonel was saying. "I've got Beckett. We'll meet the team in the jumper bay."
***
"So, would you be interested?" John asked, moving his rook. "And... that's checkmate."
Kavanagh nodded and sighed. "Good game, Sheppard. And I'm not too sure about going back to Atlantis yet again. I tend to avoid places where I was almost tortured."
"I solemnly swear I will never sic Ronon on you."
"Of course you won't-- Lorne will," Kavanagh answered as they quickly set up the board again. "No one likes me there, so why would I go back?"
"Well, no one likes you here, so why stay?"
"Such a compelling argument," Kavanagh said as he moved a pawn.
"It's a groundbreaking design." John followed suit.
"Says the man who designed it." Kavanagh pushed another pawn.
"Say a lot of people! And there have been modifications. Even some of yours. You like trading pawns in the early game."
"Unclutters the board. My designs?"
"Of course. Your engine tweaks were twelve percent more efficient than what I had in there," John answered, beginning the decimation of pawns.
"What about the wing design?"
"The Sheppard-Zelenka model still beats it in the simulations."
"The simulations ignore a lot of factors."
"So come on board and design me a better simulation." John considered the board. "Though if your chess playing is any indication, I might worry about the safety of the lower echelon staff."
"Very funny. I'll think about it. How firm is this, anyway?"
"O'Neill's bringing it to the IOA."
"So a while yet."
John moved out his queen and sighed. "Yeah. Quite a while."
***
"And this will help?" Veza asked, holding her son close, his shock of unruly dark hair a contrast to the pale skin of his face. He was so small, lost within the wires and tubes that monitored him, kept him alive.
Carson gently laid a hand on her arm. "We've done all we can for him here. He needs a special surgeon if he's going to live." Even then, Carson knew, the child would never be normal, but it didn't seem to matter to his mother and the Athosian man the child would know as his father.
Tears glimmered in her eyes. "Will you come with us? Please?"
"I don't really know that I can," he hedged.
"Please, Carson. We trust you."
He knew it was a frightening prospect-- Earth, so full of people it was unimaginable to the people of the Pegasus Galaxy. A new culture. Medical jargon. Secrets. A sick child was bad enough without having to navigate the additional landmines Veza and Isilf were facing. He sighed. "I'll need to speak to Rodney... and to Elizabeth. I can't make any promises, but I'll see."
Next Chapter
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself." - Friedrich Nietzsche
"I don't know," Kavanagh said, moving a chess piece, and wasn't it totally screwed up that he'd turned out to be more welcoming and helpful when John was at the SGC than practically anyone else? "I don't think you should have left. Getting back to Atlantis isn't that easy."
"You did it," John answered, moving his knight. "And no one even liked you."
Kavanagh pounced on the knight with his bishop, then pointed at John with it. "Exactly. Sometimes it's easier that way. No one can argue that there was any preferential treatment going on."
"That's totally fucked," John answered, staring at the board, not that he needed to.
"Politics, even on a small-scale, often are," Kavanagh answered.
John took the bishop with his queen. "Check." He rolled the piece around in his hand a moment. "And if it doesn't work out, they're all probably better off without me anyway."
***
"I hate him so much," Rodney muttered, staring darkly at the ceiling of the bedroom.
He couldn't sleep anymore. The bed was too big and too cold without John in it. He was operating on maybe four hours a night at this point. Because Rodney wasn't sleeping, Carson was losing sleep as well.
They'd spent half the evening sniping at each other and Rodney couldn't even remember why.
Carson sighed and curled against him, apparently too tired to even defend John at this point.
"He's probably off kirking somewhere right now, forgotten all about us."
***
"Bartender," John called, his syllables already beginning to lengthen. "'Nother one."
The barkeep gave him a speculative look. "Gonna have to ask for your keys, buddy."
John sighed and handed them over.
The barkeep hung them on a board behind him and then delivered another drink. "You know, Al makes a pretty good burger."
"Think I need fattening up?"
"I think you've been in here every night this week and done nothing but drink. Not a whole lot of nutrition in a liquid dinner."
"You talked me into it."
"What do you like on it?"
John shrugged. "Throw everything on it. I'm not picky."
The barkeep turned and John almost missed the person slinking up to the barstool beside him. "Hi!" she said, a little too brightly.
John blinked. "Not interested. I've got someone."
"Oh, really? Someone who's let you go out every night this week without coming with you?"
John stared into his drink, thinking of Carson, wondering if he was okay, thinking of Rodney, wondering if he'd ever forgive him. "He would if he was home."
Her smile got a little brittle at the 'he' but there was a predatory 'I can lower your Kinsey score' look in her eyes. "Business trip?"
"Military," John lied. "A million miles away."
"Oh. I thought there were rules."
"The rules suck." John downed his drink and slid it across the bar. "Set me up again."
***
"Results are back on the fetal ATA test," Thea reported, handing Carson a notebook computer.
Carson took it and studied the report. "You're sure of this?"
Thea nodded. "Both alleles code for the gene, just like in Colonel Sheppard and General O'Neill."
"Ah, such a strong gene." Carson shook his head, thinking about the multitude of birth defects already showing up. That Veza was still willing to carry this child, that her Athosian lover was willing to be a father to it-- him, Carson reminded himself-- was amazing. "This one would be the maternal gene," Carson said, pointing, then checked the other one. "This sequence before the ATA is usually a good sign of a strong gene, though not always. It's too bad we can't locate the father."
"Oh, but we can," Thea answered, pointing at a segment. "This sequence here just after the gene is very unusual. In fact, we've only seen it in one carrier."
Carson looked up, eyes wide, and licked his lips, suspecting. "Have you run any other paternal identity tests?"
"Yes, I have. It confirmed my suspicions."
***
"Wallace and Gromit?" Kavanagh asked, peering at John's laptop screen.
John paused the movie and set the laptop aside, replacing it with the chessboard and pieces he kept set up for lunch. "Yeah. Got introduced to it on Atlantis."
Kavanagh nodded, studying their unfinished game. "I seem to recall Doctor McKay quoting it now and again."
John looked away. "Yeah."
"I never got what you saw in him anyway," Kavanagh said, moving his rook. "I mean, sure, he might be the most brilliant mind in two galaxies, but there are lots of close seconds who have a lot more social skills. Even I'd make a better choice."
John froze, mid-reach. "You're not hitting on me, are you, Kavanagh?"
Kavanagh smirked. "No way in Hell, Sheppard. I happen to appreciate breasts, curves, and a little padding on my lovers."
"Oh, so more like Rodney."
Kavanagh snorted. "I should so write him and tell him you said he has breasts."
"He wouldn't believe you."
"I know." Kavanagh heaved a put-upon sigh. "So much blackmail material, so few believers."
***
"What is it with you military types and Back to the Future?"
Lorne shrugged. "Look, McKay, I'm not asking you to watch it. I just want to borrow it."
Rodney cast a glance at the shelves where their DVD collection was arranged. "I, uh, I don't think we have it, actually. You'll have to ask someone else."
"You could take a couple seconds and look, McKay. Oh, never mind. I'll go look myself."
"You can't!" Rodney yelped.
Lorne raised an eyebrow. "I can't?"
"No! There's-- There's... um... gay military porn over there. And, uh, I wouldn't want you to... uh... you know. So, you can't come in."
"That's the lamest excuse ever." Lorne huffed and turned, walking away muttering.
Rodney watched him leave and then thought of something. "Huh."
***
"Hello, John. I thought you might appreciate this, courtesy of Rodney hacking a few security archives. We'll be watching it ourselves about nine tonight. We thought you might like to join us, at least in spirit." Carson leaned forward, eyes bright. "We really miss you. I know Rodney doesn't say so in his letters, but he's really hurting, John. We love you and we need you back here."
John leaned back, clutching the dildo as the video began-- Rodney and Carson carefully securing John's wrists and ankles to the bed. John moaned as he watched Rodney's mouth making a slow journey down his body, Carson coating his fingers with slick and then slowly teasing around John's hole.
On Atlantis, Carson's fingers slipped into Rodney's body, tongue lapping out to taste Rodney's cock, as they watched John's hands curl around the cords holding him to the bed as Carson worked him open and Rodney straddled John's chest and slid his cock into John's mouth.
As John watched Carson thrust into him on the video, John slid the dildo into himself, arching and groaning, remembering the taste and feel of Rodney's cock pushing into his throat.
Carson shuddered, throbbing into Rodney's body as John on the video arched and came, Carson and Rodney still thrusting into him in rhythm. He pulled out quickly, still dribbling, and slid down to take Rodney into his mouth. He'd barely taken the head of Rodney's cock in before his lover was filling his mouth.
"Ungh!" John gasped as Carson and Rodney on the video both stuttered in their motions and then thrust in deep, the memory of the twin sensations of their filling him pulling John over the edge, striping his body with his come.
Rodney stared up at the ceiling, his eyes suddenly swimming with tears. "He's not coming back to us, is he?"
Carson drew him into his arms. "I don't know, love. I don't know."
John lay, arm slung over his eyes. He'd thought it would be better, that he could be more... balanced here, where no one knew what he'd been through, where the corridors didn't ring of memories of desperation and pain. But there was no presence of the city at the back of his mind. He'd walked into a dozen doors. And his bed was at once too small and too large at night... and much too cold.
***
"So, why Atlantis?" O'Neill asked.
"As my report said, access to parts, the Ancient database, and away from prying eyes."
"Yes, I get that those are the official reasons," O'Neill said. "I'm curious about the unofficial ones."
John shrugged. "I miss it, I guess."
O'Neill studied him a moment, then shrugged. "Good enough. I need your staff and equipment requirements before I can make any recommendations to the IOA. Who'd be directly under you? Zelenka?"
John shifted uncomfortably. "No. I wouldn't want to take him from Rodney." He considered a moment, knowing Elizabeth was going to kill him. "I was actually thinking Doctor Kavanagh."
O'Neill's eyebrows shot up. "Well... that would be an interesting choice."
John shrugged. "Small-scale politics."
***
Carson rolled out of bed, blinking sleep from his eyes, and answered the apartment door. Colonel Lorne stood there. He blinked at Carson.
"You aren't ready."
"What?" Carson answered, confused.
"They were supposed to call you."
"Who?"
"Well, either the control center or the infirmary. No one called you?"
Carson ran a hand through his hair. "Son, you're going to have to go back to the beginning."
Lorne stepped in, dragging Carson into the bedroom. "Get dressed. Halling called from the Mainland. Veza's in labour."
"It's too early," Carson said, halfway into his trousers.
"I know. That's why they're sending a medical team and bringing her back to Atlantis. I'm flying, you're heading the team. Are you ready?"
"I am now." Carson scooped up his earpiece and leaned over to give Rodney a quick kiss. "Medical emergency, love. I'll call you later."
Rodney murmured an acknowledgement and was already softly snoring again before Carson had crossed the room.
"Infirmary, this is Lorne," the colonel was saying. "I've got Beckett. We'll meet the team in the jumper bay."
***
"So, would you be interested?" John asked, moving his rook. "And... that's checkmate."
Kavanagh nodded and sighed. "Good game, Sheppard. And I'm not too sure about going back to Atlantis yet again. I tend to avoid places where I was almost tortured."
"I solemnly swear I will never sic Ronon on you."
"Of course you won't-- Lorne will," Kavanagh answered as they quickly set up the board again. "No one likes me there, so why would I go back?"
"Well, no one likes you here, so why stay?"
"Such a compelling argument," Kavanagh said as he moved a pawn.
"It's a groundbreaking design." John followed suit.
"Says the man who designed it." Kavanagh pushed another pawn.
"Say a lot of people! And there have been modifications. Even some of yours. You like trading pawns in the early game."
"Unclutters the board. My designs?"
"Of course. Your engine tweaks were twelve percent more efficient than what I had in there," John answered, beginning the decimation of pawns.
"What about the wing design?"
"The Sheppard-Zelenka model still beats it in the simulations."
"The simulations ignore a lot of factors."
"So come on board and design me a better simulation." John considered the board. "Though if your chess playing is any indication, I might worry about the safety of the lower echelon staff."
"Very funny. I'll think about it. How firm is this, anyway?"
"O'Neill's bringing it to the IOA."
"So a while yet."
John moved out his queen and sighed. "Yeah. Quite a while."
***
"And this will help?" Veza asked, holding her son close, his shock of unruly dark hair a contrast to the pale skin of his face. He was so small, lost within the wires and tubes that monitored him, kept him alive.
Carson gently laid a hand on her arm. "We've done all we can for him here. He needs a special surgeon if he's going to live." Even then, Carson knew, the child would never be normal, but it didn't seem to matter to his mother and the Athosian man the child would know as his father.
Tears glimmered in her eyes. "Will you come with us? Please?"
"I don't really know that I can," he hedged.
"Please, Carson. We trust you."
He knew it was a frightening prospect-- Earth, so full of people it was unimaginable to the people of the Pegasus Galaxy. A new culture. Medical jargon. Secrets. A sick child was bad enough without having to navigate the additional landmines Veza and Isilf were facing. He sighed. "I'll need to speak to Rodney... and to Elizabeth. I can't make any promises, but I'll see."
Next Chapter