Diary of an Angst Ridden Temporary Commander (SGA)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing
Summary: Cameron Mitchell has to take temporary command of Atlantis after Sheppard has an accident with an ancient device that reduces to him to the mental age of 3. This, is Cam’s diary.
AN: And another (I have no self control) comment fic from kriadydragon 's gencomment fic exchange.
Prompt: de-age
Characters: Ensemble but focus on John and Cameron Mitchell
Request: Cameron is called in to temporarily take over the Military command on Atlantis after John is mentally de-aged to an infant. Because they've been best friends for years, Cam also has John's power of attorney and is listed as next of kin. The rest of John's team helps him care for John while Rodney tries to fix the Ancient device that was pretty much destroyed when it activate in response to John's presence.
Don't want: Sheppard getting back to normal quickly.
MICOA Day 35
Things are not looking up. It’s been 46 days since the accident, and McKay is no closer to fixing the ancient device than he was when I arrived. In fact, judging by his attitude and appearance, he’s even further away than before.
John meanwhile continues to keep Torren company and sure it sounds awful, but he genuinely seems happier with the kid around, like he has someone his own age to play with. Teyla doesn’t seem to mind, on the surface, but the other day I caught her looking at the two ‘kids’ with such despair that I felt sick. Torren was sitting on John’s chest, waving a stick in the air and they were both giggling like mad as he batted at Ronon’s dreads. It was a happy little scene, even Ronon was smiling. But Teyla, damn, she looked like she was about to cry and not even realising that I was watching made the slightest difference, she continued to look devastated.
*
Day 2, Atlantis.
Well, this is uncomfortable. Yesterday everyone was polite and smiling, optimistic of Sheppard’s recovery and my stay being short. I was hoping so too. It had kinda come as shock to the Atlantis staff that I was Sheppard’s next of kin, power of attorney dude. But even though we’ve only known eachother a few years, we both agree on a few things. Airplanes and flying rock, seriously. The Dallas Cowboys suck. And neither of us want our teams, our friends to be in the position of having to make the kind of decision I now have to. It’s not easy being objective and rational when people you love are hurt, dying, or reduced to the age of three, mentally. And Sheppard agreed to make the call for me, and I for him.
So here I am. And the SGC and IOA jumped at the chance of getting an interim commander who might actually listen to them. Major Lorne was, is, deemed far too loyal. Ha, I’m kind of insulted. They sure don’t know me too well.
But I am stepping into the same shoes Stephen Caldwell did, shoes that stepped on everyone’s toes and made people twitchy. Shoes that tried to take over. The Interim Commander Shoes.
Oh well.
*
Day 10 of Interim Command
I hate this. I really, really hate this. The Marines look at me, nod, say yes sir and obey. But I can see the look, the ‘you’re not him and don’t try and be him’ look. And hell if I know how to stop making them think I am trying to replace Sheppard. Lorne’s not so bad, he’s direct and supportive and lets me make decisions without feeling like a heel. The Marines though, damn, they’re a tough crowd.
But what really sucks, completely and utterly sucks, is everyone else. They’re polite, smile and nod. But no one actually talks to me. I walk into a room and the conversation stops. I walk past and people pause and wait for me to be out of earshot. It’s like I am some IOA stooge or spy or hell, leper. And I’m a nice guy! Really I am.
So I’ve been spending time with John. It’s easier thinking of him as John, rather than Sheppard. Sheppard is cool, experienced, dangerous. John. John is a little kid who likes pudding and cars. And Torren.
You can’t separate the two of them without one or both screaming or crying, or both. But that’s ok. It’s nice visiting them, playing cars, building lego, whatever. John seems oblivious to his situation, likes to play, goes down for a nap easy enough, eats his greens. Torren is the little terror, but then Torren has a mom to defy. John seems to remember that Teyla can kick his ass, on some level, so he’s obedient and pliable.
Right until you try and take away his damn plane, or Torren.
Doesn’t say much either, but damn if he doesn’t look cute asleep, thumb in his mouth, blanket draped over him.
Now, I’m really depressed and this entry is turning into ‘diary of a teenage prom queen’.
Shit.
*
Day 15 of Mitchell’s They Like Me, They Really Like Me, Command.
Who knew? Who knew all it would take is Sheppard escaping his minders, Ronon and McKay, and getting lost in the city.
Panic, chaos, disorder had nothing on Atlantis in disarray trying to find him.
Enter me. Cool, calm, rational and in command. Yes, you heard me people, in command.
Search teams organised, Carson in the chair, Torren on the PA, and we were organised. Like chickens! (Damn, I love that movie). And hell if we didn’t find that tricky bastard in 15 minutes! After 45 minutes of chaos, panic and disorder.
Mean Uncle Rodney who had lost his temper and Embarrassed Uncle Ronon who had fallen asleep were right behind me when we found John down near the West Pier. He was far from the edge, quietly playing with his little metal airplane and the moment he saw us, ran into my arms.
Getting hugged like I was his long lost friend was pretty cool, and sad. The Marines with us looked away, McKay looked like he’d been poleaxed and Ronon... looked like Ronon. It didn’t take much to get John to comply and come in, but hell if the ice around me disappeared like it was a massive spring thaw, because suddenly I was one of them. People who cared about Sheppard.
Torren was annoyed that he’d missed out on the fun, but the two best buds were soon involved in drawing Uncle McKay’s ugly face (my suggestion) and we were revisiting the McKay’s progress on the ancient device.
He didn’t have good news. Probably why he lost his temper and yelled.
*
Day 21 of Mitchell’s Interim Command of Atlantis (I swear its temporary)
I think Lorne is messing with me. We have a command meeting and review stuff. I ask, “And what would Colonel Sheppard do?” and he just smiles, like he’s daring me to guess and make a mistake. And I thought he was on my side.
Some Traveller Captains want to meet with Sheppard to discuss a trade opportunity and they aren’t taking no for an answer. It has to be Sheppard. Woolsey keeps sending me reports to review and sign off. The staff sergeants inundate me with updates and reports on the Marines. Zelenka and half of the department heads can’t seem to make a decision without consulting me. The other half make decisions I wish they had consulted me about. And I haven’t been Offworld once since I got here.
The paperwork backlog is crazy and I can’t believe that Sheppard’s command is this bureaucratic and mindnumbing so, I have come to the conclusion that Lorne is messing with me.
But most of these guys have not served under or worked with General O’Neill. And if they did, it was years ago. I know some tricks too, learnt from the best paper dodger in the history of the Air Force.
John snuck into my room last night. Why me and why my room, who knows. Both Rodney and Ronon are closer and Teyla is right next door. But he came to find me. Wouldn’t say why he was awake or anything. If he’d had a nightmare, he was tightlipped. It is definitely high on my weirdo meter though having a fully grown man sharing my bed while we watched SpongeBob on my laptop. John didn’t seem upset but he was trembling.
Teyla came to get him after a panicked radio check and her smile was sad. John was all sleepy boy, tousled hair worse than usual. His small wave as they left was cute. I watched SpongeBob all night, unable to sleep.
*
Day 23 of Mitchell’s Totally KickAss Command.
Ha. Victory. Throw away some important requisitions. Screw with a few vital team rosters. Roster staff sergeants for scientist wrangling. Mistakenly order the mess hall to serve nothing but red jello for two days. And suddenly the paperstorm stops and people start acting like adults.
Lorne actually apologised to me and I pretended I had no clue what he was talking about. Thank you, Jack.
But in all fairness, it was a tough day too. For everyone. McKay got everyone’s hopes up with excited declarations of ‘nearly there’ and ‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it.’ I was late for the not so secret report back from Carson and Rodney, which everyone knew about but their collective expressions of gloom was answer enough.
The brief blip on the monitor had been that... brief. John had blinked, stared at them and the bright lights of the ancient device and started crying. Honest to God howling. Not even Torren had been able to calm him down, in fact the little tyke had started crying too. Carson had had to sedate him, while Teyla took Torren away.
Sheppard is still in the infirmary, knocked out for the night. I’m glad I didn’t seem him crying. Really, really glad.
Shit, my victory definitely seems hollow now.
*
Day 41 of CMICOA
I’m ignoring the IOA’s emails. It’s up to me to make the call on sending John back to Earth, both as the idiot with his power of attorney and the commander of Atlantis. Woolsey actually left the decision to me too, too torn himself. Sending John away helps no one. It just means we’re giving up.
On Earth he’d just be a grown man who lost his mind. A vet with major PTSD. He’d be away from his friends and the city he calls home. It’s not a decision anyone wants to make. I sure as shit don’t want to make it.
John and I watched SpongeBob again last night. He seems sad.
I’d like to think he knows... on some level how bad things are.
And sometimes I hope he doesn’t.
Day 43 - Victory!
John gave Rodney the finger today.
And said, “Ass!”
And then continued to play lego with Torren.
Carson had to give him some warm toffee as a bribe to get into the scanner later. But hell if it wasn’t good news.
The atmosphere on Atlantis is upbeat and relieved. And I am not insulted at all. Hell, no!
*
Day 50 - Mitchell is Leaving!
Ok, not today, but soon. Sheppard isn’t quite 100%, not even close. But his lapses are fewer and his determination to win back his sanity (as it were) is fantastic to see. McKay seems a little miffed that he didn’t save the day and that Sheppard seems to have healed himself, but no one else cares. Sheppard spent the day with me, catching up on the goings on and seemed to be on the same page as me. True, halfway though he started doodling and drawing airplanes on the page, but hell, he probably did that in meetings before anyway.
We watched Black Hawk Down last night, with his team, and if John fell asleep half way through, no one cared. Or mentioned that he started sucking his thumb.
*
Day 32 of Being in Charge of the Lamest Archaeology Expedition in the history of the World
Got a very delayed email from Sheppard today during our scheduled check in with the SGC.
He seems upbeat and completely recovered. And it was nice to hear that his welcome home had included an avalanche of paperwork and stupid requests. I feel a little more liked now. And it’s nice knowing who he’s talking about when he complains about Hamma’s requests and Hunter’s obtuseness.
We never talked about SpongeBob and I don’t know if he remembers, or what he remembers if he does, but he did thank me before I left. It was an odd goodbye, kinda awkward as it only could be between two friends with some odd memories between them. I’m glad I didn’t have to make that call. And I’m sure Sheppard is glad too.
As much as I love being on a Gate Team in the Milkway, I really really miss Atlantis. Sure, if I was there, I’d outrank Sheppard and it’d be damn stupid idea to accept what would essentially be a demotion, but hell if I don’t want to head up a Gate Team on Atlantis.
Sure, sure, there’s a 305 with my name on it somewhere on the assembly line. Carter seems happy with the Hammond. But I know she misses Atlantis, and there is just something so addictive and magical about that place.
So, yeah. I miss it. Miss being in charge of SG1 too, but with Teal’c on Chulak more days than not, and Carter on the Hammond¸ Vala, Daniel and I are not SG1. We’re just the sad leftovers. At least Atlantis is a viable option.
Damn, teenage angst dear diary moment here I come again.
Mitchell, out.
*
Fin
Summary: Cameron Mitchell has to take temporary command of Atlantis after Sheppard has an accident with an ancient device that reduces to him to the mental age of 3. This, is Cam’s diary.
AN: And another (I have no self control) comment fic from kriadydragon 's gencomment fic exchange.
Prompt: de-age
Characters: Ensemble but focus on John and Cameron Mitchell
Request: Cameron is called in to temporarily take over the Military command on Atlantis after John is mentally de-aged to an infant. Because they've been best friends for years, Cam also has John's power of attorney and is listed as next of kin. The rest of John's team helps him care for John while Rodney tries to fix the Ancient device that was pretty much destroyed when it activate in response to John's presence.
Don't want: Sheppard getting back to normal quickly.
MICOA Day 35
Things are not looking up. It’s been 46 days since the accident, and McKay is no closer to fixing the ancient device than he was when I arrived. In fact, judging by his attitude and appearance, he’s even further away than before.
John meanwhile continues to keep Torren company and sure it sounds awful, but he genuinely seems happier with the kid around, like he has someone his own age to play with. Teyla doesn’t seem to mind, on the surface, but the other day I caught her looking at the two ‘kids’ with such despair that I felt sick. Torren was sitting on John’s chest, waving a stick in the air and they were both giggling like mad as he batted at Ronon’s dreads. It was a happy little scene, even Ronon was smiling. But Teyla, damn, she looked like she was about to cry and not even realising that I was watching made the slightest difference, she continued to look devastated.
*
Day 2, Atlantis.
Well, this is uncomfortable. Yesterday everyone was polite and smiling, optimistic of Sheppard’s recovery and my stay being short. I was hoping so too. It had kinda come as shock to the Atlantis staff that I was Sheppard’s next of kin, power of attorney dude. But even though we’ve only known eachother a few years, we both agree on a few things. Airplanes and flying rock, seriously. The Dallas Cowboys suck. And neither of us want our teams, our friends to be in the position of having to make the kind of decision I now have to. It’s not easy being objective and rational when people you love are hurt, dying, or reduced to the age of three, mentally. And Sheppard agreed to make the call for me, and I for him.
So here I am. And the SGC and IOA jumped at the chance of getting an interim commander who might actually listen to them. Major Lorne was, is, deemed far too loyal. Ha, I’m kind of insulted. They sure don’t know me too well.
But I am stepping into the same shoes Stephen Caldwell did, shoes that stepped on everyone’s toes and made people twitchy. Shoes that tried to take over. The Interim Commander Shoes.
Oh well.
*
Day 10 of Interim Command
I hate this. I really, really hate this. The Marines look at me, nod, say yes sir and obey. But I can see the look, the ‘you’re not him and don’t try and be him’ look. And hell if I know how to stop making them think I am trying to replace Sheppard. Lorne’s not so bad, he’s direct and supportive and lets me make decisions without feeling like a heel. The Marines though, damn, they’re a tough crowd.
But what really sucks, completely and utterly sucks, is everyone else. They’re polite, smile and nod. But no one actually talks to me. I walk into a room and the conversation stops. I walk past and people pause and wait for me to be out of earshot. It’s like I am some IOA stooge or spy or hell, leper. And I’m a nice guy! Really I am.
So I’ve been spending time with John. It’s easier thinking of him as John, rather than Sheppard. Sheppard is cool, experienced, dangerous. John. John is a little kid who likes pudding and cars. And Torren.
You can’t separate the two of them without one or both screaming or crying, or both. But that’s ok. It’s nice visiting them, playing cars, building lego, whatever. John seems oblivious to his situation, likes to play, goes down for a nap easy enough, eats his greens. Torren is the little terror, but then Torren has a mom to defy. John seems to remember that Teyla can kick his ass, on some level, so he’s obedient and pliable.
Right until you try and take away his damn plane, or Torren.
Doesn’t say much either, but damn if he doesn’t look cute asleep, thumb in his mouth, blanket draped over him.
Now, I’m really depressed and this entry is turning into ‘diary of a teenage prom queen’.
Shit.
*
Day 15 of Mitchell’s They Like Me, They Really Like Me, Command.
Who knew? Who knew all it would take is Sheppard escaping his minders, Ronon and McKay, and getting lost in the city.
Panic, chaos, disorder had nothing on Atlantis in disarray trying to find him.
Enter me. Cool, calm, rational and in command. Yes, you heard me people, in command.
Search teams organised, Carson in the chair, Torren on the PA, and we were organised. Like chickens! (Damn, I love that movie). And hell if we didn’t find that tricky bastard in 15 minutes! After 45 minutes of chaos, panic and disorder.
Mean Uncle Rodney who had lost his temper and Embarrassed Uncle Ronon who had fallen asleep were right behind me when we found John down near the West Pier. He was far from the edge, quietly playing with his little metal airplane and the moment he saw us, ran into my arms.
Getting hugged like I was his long lost friend was pretty cool, and sad. The Marines with us looked away, McKay looked like he’d been poleaxed and Ronon... looked like Ronon. It didn’t take much to get John to comply and come in, but hell if the ice around me disappeared like it was a massive spring thaw, because suddenly I was one of them. People who cared about Sheppard.
Torren was annoyed that he’d missed out on the fun, but the two best buds were soon involved in drawing Uncle McKay’s ugly face (my suggestion) and we were revisiting the McKay’s progress on the ancient device.
He didn’t have good news. Probably why he lost his temper and yelled.
*
Day 21 of Mitchell’s Interim Command of Atlantis (I swear its temporary)
I think Lorne is messing with me. We have a command meeting and review stuff. I ask, “And what would Colonel Sheppard do?” and he just smiles, like he’s daring me to guess and make a mistake. And I thought he was on my side.
Some Traveller Captains want to meet with Sheppard to discuss a trade opportunity and they aren’t taking no for an answer. It has to be Sheppard. Woolsey keeps sending me reports to review and sign off. The staff sergeants inundate me with updates and reports on the Marines. Zelenka and half of the department heads can’t seem to make a decision without consulting me. The other half make decisions I wish they had consulted me about. And I haven’t been Offworld once since I got here.
The paperwork backlog is crazy and I can’t believe that Sheppard’s command is this bureaucratic and mindnumbing so, I have come to the conclusion that Lorne is messing with me.
But most of these guys have not served under or worked with General O’Neill. And if they did, it was years ago. I know some tricks too, learnt from the best paper dodger in the history of the Air Force.
John snuck into my room last night. Why me and why my room, who knows. Both Rodney and Ronon are closer and Teyla is right next door. But he came to find me. Wouldn’t say why he was awake or anything. If he’d had a nightmare, he was tightlipped. It is definitely high on my weirdo meter though having a fully grown man sharing my bed while we watched SpongeBob on my laptop. John didn’t seem upset but he was trembling.
Teyla came to get him after a panicked radio check and her smile was sad. John was all sleepy boy, tousled hair worse than usual. His small wave as they left was cute. I watched SpongeBob all night, unable to sleep.
*
Day 23 of Mitchell’s Totally KickAss Command.
Ha. Victory. Throw away some important requisitions. Screw with a few vital team rosters. Roster staff sergeants for scientist wrangling. Mistakenly order the mess hall to serve nothing but red jello for two days. And suddenly the paperstorm stops and people start acting like adults.
Lorne actually apologised to me and I pretended I had no clue what he was talking about. Thank you, Jack.
But in all fairness, it was a tough day too. For everyone. McKay got everyone’s hopes up with excited declarations of ‘nearly there’ and ‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it.’ I was late for the not so secret report back from Carson and Rodney, which everyone knew about but their collective expressions of gloom was answer enough.
The brief blip on the monitor had been that... brief. John had blinked, stared at them and the bright lights of the ancient device and started crying. Honest to God howling. Not even Torren had been able to calm him down, in fact the little tyke had started crying too. Carson had had to sedate him, while Teyla took Torren away.
Sheppard is still in the infirmary, knocked out for the night. I’m glad I didn’t seem him crying. Really, really glad.
Shit, my victory definitely seems hollow now.
*
Day 41 of CMICOA
I’m ignoring the IOA’s emails. It’s up to me to make the call on sending John back to Earth, both as the idiot with his power of attorney and the commander of Atlantis. Woolsey actually left the decision to me too, too torn himself. Sending John away helps no one. It just means we’re giving up.
On Earth he’d just be a grown man who lost his mind. A vet with major PTSD. He’d be away from his friends and the city he calls home. It’s not a decision anyone wants to make. I sure as shit don’t want to make it.
John and I watched SpongeBob again last night. He seems sad.
I’d like to think he knows... on some level how bad things are.
And sometimes I hope he doesn’t.
Day 43 - Victory!
John gave Rodney the finger today.
And said, “Ass!”
And then continued to play lego with Torren.
Carson had to give him some warm toffee as a bribe to get into the scanner later. But hell if it wasn’t good news.
The atmosphere on Atlantis is upbeat and relieved. And I am not insulted at all. Hell, no!
*
Day 50 - Mitchell is Leaving!
Ok, not today, but soon. Sheppard isn’t quite 100%, not even close. But his lapses are fewer and his determination to win back his sanity (as it were) is fantastic to see. McKay seems a little miffed that he didn’t save the day and that Sheppard seems to have healed himself, but no one else cares. Sheppard spent the day with me, catching up on the goings on and seemed to be on the same page as me. True, halfway though he started doodling and drawing airplanes on the page, but hell, he probably did that in meetings before anyway.
We watched Black Hawk Down last night, with his team, and if John fell asleep half way through, no one cared. Or mentioned that he started sucking his thumb.
*
Day 32 of Being in Charge of the Lamest Archaeology Expedition in the history of the World
Got a very delayed email from Sheppard today during our scheduled check in with the SGC.
He seems upbeat and completely recovered. And it was nice to hear that his welcome home had included an avalanche of paperwork and stupid requests. I feel a little more liked now. And it’s nice knowing who he’s talking about when he complains about Hamma’s requests and Hunter’s obtuseness.
We never talked about SpongeBob and I don’t know if he remembers, or what he remembers if he does, but he did thank me before I left. It was an odd goodbye, kinda awkward as it only could be between two friends with some odd memories between them. I’m glad I didn’t have to make that call. And I’m sure Sheppard is glad too.
As much as I love being on a Gate Team in the Milkway, I really really miss Atlantis. Sure, if I was there, I’d outrank Sheppard and it’d be damn stupid idea to accept what would essentially be a demotion, but hell if I don’t want to head up a Gate Team on Atlantis.
Sure, sure, there’s a 305 with my name on it somewhere on the assembly line. Carter seems happy with the Hammond. But I know she misses Atlantis, and there is just something so addictive and magical about that place.
So, yeah. I miss it. Miss being in charge of SG1 too, but with Teal’c on Chulak more days than not, and Carter on the Hammond¸ Vala, Daniel and I are not SG1. We’re just the sad leftovers. At least Atlantis is a viable option.
Damn, teenage angst dear diary moment here I come again.
Mitchell, out.
*
Fin