Ficlet: Out of Place (SGA/Firefly xover; Simon Tam)
Title: Out of Place
Fandoms: Firefly/SGA
Characters: Simon; SGA people, Ronon.
Words: about 1000
Spoilers: slight for SGA s2, I suppose.
Summary: The mirror looks completely out of place in the warehouse.
Notes: strina wanted a fic where Simon Tam is in Atlantis, so I wrote a little commentfic. This is the same thing, cleaned up a little. I know the quantum mirror doesn't work re: time travel, but then again, the Stargate isn't supposed to either, so...let's blame solar flares? *g*
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
The mirror looks completely out of place in the warehouse - unlike everything else, it isn't covered in dust, or cracked around the edges. It clearly isn't a spare part of some sort, unless it's intended as a replacement for something in a Companion's bedroom. Inara would love it its spare lines and clear reflection.
Absently, Simon steps forward, reaches out to touch it, wondering if he should suggest it to Mal. Perhaps they will have spare money, after the necessary supplies are acquired.
He blinks at the sudden sunlight, the scent of green, the humid air. "What - " he starts, and then ducks, automatically, when something flies, screeching, above his head. A moment later, he's being thrown to the ground by a large, cursing man.
It isn't the first time.
*
Later, when he's been dragged out of harm's way, when he's been taken through a round gate, examined, and interrogated, he stops trying to make sense of their explanations. Quantum mirrors, parallel universes, alien creatures, technology operated by genetic interfaces.
It all sounds ridiculous, a fantasy, an illusion.
But the city lights up around him, hums at him in a way that he can't quite ignore. "Well," he says, trying to digest it all, "thank you for saving my life." His ribs still hurt from the way he'd landed, crushed under a ridiculously large body.
Ronon Dex - the owner of said ridiculously large body - shrugs. "Wasn't intentional. You got in my way."
Charming, Simon wants to respond, but perhaps now isn't the time to try and alienate new people.
"We can't get you back," McKay says to him later, not quite looking him in the eye. "We're too busy. Quantum mirrors aren't supposed to facilitate time-travel."
Simon hears doubt in McKay's voice, doubt about his story and his origins.
"And we don't have the resources to find your universe, your - time," McKay continues. "The planet is Wraith-infested, anyway."
Simon is dismissed casually, easily. Not so with the others.
"You're welcome to stay with us," Weir says, smiling, and she looks directly at him, openly. He can't shake the feeling that he shouldn't quite trust her. "Maybe at some point in the future we can find a way to get you home."
"You have the gene," Sheppard tells him, grinning loosely. "Could use you around here."
"A trauma surgeon could do a lot to help around here, lad," Beckett says.
Simon doesn't know how to respond to each of these statements. It's not like he has much of a choice.
Alone, he says, "River would love you." He's speaking to the wall, the city.
He's not sure if he imagines it, but the wall flashes once, briefly, and for a moment, it almost feels comforting.
*
Simon doesn’t understand how the war got started, or how there can be aliens - a ridiculous concept - in this 'verse. He doesn't understand how these people manage to survive battle after battle, how they can continue to fight an enemy that is clearly superior in numbers and technology. But there's something about them, about the way they stumble along, and fight, and believe that Simon knows would resonate with Mal.
Even if Mal wouldn't have a clue what to say when he saw a Wraith.
The air of desperation is exhausting, though. It's pervasive, in all of the rooms, clinging to the way the scientists work, to the way the military personnel train and train and then train some more.
Simon does what he can - he sews up innumerable injuries, turns on various pieces of technology, learns to pilot one of their ships, decides on triage order, removes arrows and bullets, attempts to fix the internal injuries Sergeant Collins sustains on an off-world mission, and wishes, too often, for a dermal sealer and some of the medications from Serenity's infirmary. Most of all, he wishes for his sister to tell him that she's okay.
He learns to handle a gun, revels in food that isn't protein powder, wishes that Ronon could meet Jayne, and that he could witness Mal butting heads with Weir. He imagines River, wandering through the city, delighted with the world around her.
"Do you miss them?" Ronon asks, one day. There's no reason for the inquiry - Ronon mostly grunts, frowns, and plays with knives in ways that are almost amusingly familiar. He doesn't usually try to talk to Simon.
"No," Simon says, not looking up from his food. He'd hoped to be eating alone. It has been an exhausting day of too many emergencies. "I was glad to get away from them and get thrown into this insane, twisted world of life-sucking creatures."
Ronon grunts, and after a moment asks, "You been spending a lot of time with McKay?"
This time, Simon half-smiles. "Oh yes. We're very close friends." McKay has little time for Simon, even when Simon's treating an injury. In those more trying times, Simon imagines Wash starting in on McKay, or McKay stuttering as Zoe confronted him. He wonders if McKay would understand River, or if she'd drive him insane. The scenarios make McKay marginally more tolerable.
"Huh."
"Actually," Simon continues, "I'd pay good money to go back. Anything. Everything."
Ronon grunts again, then says quietly, "Yeah. Me too."
Simon doesn't want to know Ronon's story. He's heard enough about what it's like in the Pegasus Galaxy from Teyla, from Sheppard. He's heard stories of loss and heartbreak and torture and death.
He doesn't want to know who Ronon misses, and what he longs for. But no one asks Simon, not about specifics, not about his losses. And so he's not surprised when, without exactly planning to do so, he opens his mouth and says, "My sister was experimented on by my government. I stole her away, but it was too late. She was broken in a way I couldn't fix. We were running, and they were tracking us. She was not doing well." I don't know what's happening to her without me there, he doesn't say. I don't know if she's worse or better or even alive.
Ronon nods once. "The Wraith destroyed my planet. My people are gone."
It's Simon's turn to nod. So he does.
Fandoms: Firefly/SGA
Characters: Simon; SGA people, Ronon.
Words: about 1000
Spoilers: slight for SGA s2, I suppose.
Summary: The mirror looks completely out of place in the warehouse.
Notes: strina wanted a fic where Simon Tam is in Atlantis, so I wrote a little commentfic. This is the same thing, cleaned up a little. I know the quantum mirror doesn't work re: time travel, but then again, the Stargate isn't supposed to either, so...let's blame solar flares? *g*
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.
The mirror looks completely out of place in the warehouse - unlike everything else, it isn't covered in dust, or cracked around the edges. It clearly isn't a spare part of some sort, unless it's intended as a replacement for something in a Companion's bedroom. Inara would love it its spare lines and clear reflection.
Absently, Simon steps forward, reaches out to touch it, wondering if he should suggest it to Mal. Perhaps they will have spare money, after the necessary supplies are acquired.
He blinks at the sudden sunlight, the scent of green, the humid air. "What - " he starts, and then ducks, automatically, when something flies, screeching, above his head. A moment later, he's being thrown to the ground by a large, cursing man.
It isn't the first time.
*
Later, when he's been dragged out of harm's way, when he's been taken through a round gate, examined, and interrogated, he stops trying to make sense of their explanations. Quantum mirrors, parallel universes, alien creatures, technology operated by genetic interfaces.
It all sounds ridiculous, a fantasy, an illusion.
But the city lights up around him, hums at him in a way that he can't quite ignore. "Well," he says, trying to digest it all, "thank you for saving my life." His ribs still hurt from the way he'd landed, crushed under a ridiculously large body.
Ronon Dex - the owner of said ridiculously large body - shrugs. "Wasn't intentional. You got in my way."
Charming, Simon wants to respond, but perhaps now isn't the time to try and alienate new people.
"We can't get you back," McKay says to him later, not quite looking him in the eye. "We're too busy. Quantum mirrors aren't supposed to facilitate time-travel."
Simon hears doubt in McKay's voice, doubt about his story and his origins.
"And we don't have the resources to find your universe, your - time," McKay continues. "The planet is Wraith-infested, anyway."
Simon is dismissed casually, easily. Not so with the others.
"You're welcome to stay with us," Weir says, smiling, and she looks directly at him, openly. He can't shake the feeling that he shouldn't quite trust her. "Maybe at some point in the future we can find a way to get you home."
"You have the gene," Sheppard tells him, grinning loosely. "Could use you around here."
"A trauma surgeon could do a lot to help around here, lad," Beckett says.
Simon doesn't know how to respond to each of these statements. It's not like he has much of a choice.
Alone, he says, "River would love you." He's speaking to the wall, the city.
He's not sure if he imagines it, but the wall flashes once, briefly, and for a moment, it almost feels comforting.
*
Simon doesn’t understand how the war got started, or how there can be aliens - a ridiculous concept - in this 'verse. He doesn't understand how these people manage to survive battle after battle, how they can continue to fight an enemy that is clearly superior in numbers and technology. But there's something about them, about the way they stumble along, and fight, and believe that Simon knows would resonate with Mal.
Even if Mal wouldn't have a clue what to say when he saw a Wraith.
The air of desperation is exhausting, though. It's pervasive, in all of the rooms, clinging to the way the scientists work, to the way the military personnel train and train and then train some more.
Simon does what he can - he sews up innumerable injuries, turns on various pieces of technology, learns to pilot one of their ships, decides on triage order, removes arrows and bullets, attempts to fix the internal injuries Sergeant Collins sustains on an off-world mission, and wishes, too often, for a dermal sealer and some of the medications from Serenity's infirmary. Most of all, he wishes for his sister to tell him that she's okay.
He learns to handle a gun, revels in food that isn't protein powder, wishes that Ronon could meet Jayne, and that he could witness Mal butting heads with Weir. He imagines River, wandering through the city, delighted with the world around her.
"Do you miss them?" Ronon asks, one day. There's no reason for the inquiry - Ronon mostly grunts, frowns, and plays with knives in ways that are almost amusingly familiar. He doesn't usually try to talk to Simon.
"No," Simon says, not looking up from his food. He'd hoped to be eating alone. It has been an exhausting day of too many emergencies. "I was glad to get away from them and get thrown into this insane, twisted world of life-sucking creatures."
Ronon grunts, and after a moment asks, "You been spending a lot of time with McKay?"
This time, Simon half-smiles. "Oh yes. We're very close friends." McKay has little time for Simon, even when Simon's treating an injury. In those more trying times, Simon imagines Wash starting in on McKay, or McKay stuttering as Zoe confronted him. He wonders if McKay would understand River, or if she'd drive him insane. The scenarios make McKay marginally more tolerable.
"Huh."
"Actually," Simon continues, "I'd pay good money to go back. Anything. Everything."
Ronon grunts again, then says quietly, "Yeah. Me too."
Simon doesn't want to know Ronon's story. He's heard enough about what it's like in the Pegasus Galaxy from Teyla, from Sheppard. He's heard stories of loss and heartbreak and torture and death.
He doesn't want to know who Ronon misses, and what he longs for. But no one asks Simon, not about specifics, not about his losses. And so he's not surprised when, without exactly planning to do so, he opens his mouth and says, "My sister was experimented on by my government. I stole her away, but it was too late. She was broken in a way I couldn't fix. We were running, and they were tracking us. She was not doing well." I don't know what's happening to her without me there, he doesn't say. I don't know if she's worse or better or even alive.
Ronon nods once. "The Wraith destroyed my planet. My people are gone."
It's Simon's turn to nod. So he does.