Faustian Hopscotch Chap 3
Title:Faustian Hopscotch
Author:Calamityjim
Fandoms:Supernatura/SGA
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Supernatural-Spoilers to season 5, SG-1, to season 9, and SGA, all seasons. Also Violence, swearing, pairings, sexual content, and aliens
Disclaimer:Stargate belongs to MGM, Supernatural to the CW
Distribution: Crossposted on fanfic.net
Summary: A routine training mission has everyone up in arms when a people Atlantis thought long gone decides to join the party. Dean, at least, is glad for the distraction from what everyone who knows wishes he didn't know. You know? Sequel to Puddle Jumping
Previous
Faustian Hopscotch
Chapter 3
Bed Rest and Bird's Nests
Dean woke to an incessant buzzing, the taste of old socks and the smell of strawberries and sex.
He couldn't help the self satisfied grin that crept across his face and had to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at any higher beings that might have been watching, the meddling voyeurs. His quest to find one method of coping had ended with him finding all three and making the satisfying discovery that Atlantis's homebrew was as amazing as the city itself. Apparently kicking ass the way he had was a good enough reason for the soldiers to throw an impromptu party with all the stops. Dean had been wined, dined, and when a sly smile with a naughty invitation was passed his way Dean felt that saying no would have been down right impolite.
And Sam bitched that he had no manners.
He felt more relaxed than he had since Sam had left for that damn school of his. Sure, Stanford made Sam happy but so far it was also two for two on ruining Sam's chances of a happy, normal life. Dean would never admit it, but he was a bit worried that Stanford had brought some of Sam's past life memories to the front and center instead of letting the kid heal from them. Between Jessica, Madison, and that hell bitch, it was understandable that Sam would be messed up about chicks for a while, but the kid hadn't even made the effort to get back on that horse. Dean had actually been waiting for the phone call where Sam found this reality's Jessica and the fact that it never came still bothered him.
A face sighed into his chest before the scent of strawberries faded. Laura Cadman rolled over and gave her alarm a gentle tap and the damn thing shut up. Dean watched as she stretched on the bed, her strawberry blond hair shimmering in the morning sun. She looked up at caught his gaze, flashing a coy one of her own. Man, she was hot. Maybe he should see if she'd sleep with Sam. The things she could do with her mouth would cure any man of his reservations about the opposite sex.
"Why hello there," she whispered, bringing her lips to Dean's ear. He shivered as her breath traced its way along his jaw before dabbing a soft kiss into his morning stubble. His breath hitched as her lips traced his ear again and he almost missed what she had to say.
"What?" he asked a bit stupidly.
Cadman rolled her eyes at him before rolling herself out of the bed. The blanket slipped, revealing her skin in its most glorious state. The soft glow of twilight caught on her alabaster curves and, had it not been for the ragged state of her, she would have looked like an ethereal angel fallen to heaven.
She had certainly performed like one. Dean was an expert on this sort of thing.
"You have three minutes to get your ass out of my room. Better get a move on." She winked before turning to face the window. She dipped into a stretch, touching her toes and giving Dean a view that was just cruel with the time limit she set before she began to tidy up the floor, sorting clothes that had been carelessly tossed aside and fixing pictures that had been knocked down in their wake the previous night.
"I thought you liked my ass!" Dean was being thrown out? That never happened! Sure, there had been a few times where he'd had to pull a mad dash because someone had an over protective father, but he had always been the one to leave. The fact that the shoe was on the other foot now was unjust. It was unfair.
Actually, it was kinda refreshing.
Laura didn't look as she continued to tidy up her room, righting things they had knocked over and sorting the clothes strewn about the floor. "I do, which is why you get three minutes instead of one." She stiffed before turning to give him a suspicious glare. "You know what last night was, right? You don't think we're dating and that I'm going to bring you flowers while you cook for me? Right?" The last question was also a challenge.
Dean's grin grew even wider. "Don't call you. You'll call me. Gotcha." He threw her a wink before rolling out of bed. His pants were draped over a picture of her parents and he tactfully turned it away before he shimmied into them. He began hunting for the rest of his clothes when he paused, tossing her a concerned look. "Do I still get to call you muffin?"
His underwear hit him in the face.
x-x-x-x-x-x-
Rodney McKay had a way with people. It wasn't necessarily a good way, and it was certainly an unpopular way, but it was his way and it did have the benefit of ensuring that things were done his way. It required a certain delicacy that was definitely underappreciated by all who knew Rodney. After all, reducing a grown man to tears and still having him show up the next day to submit the paper he should have just submitted in the first place took a misunderstood fineness. It was the understanding of this art that ensured that 'Rodney' and 'broken jaw' were not used in the same sentence.
There were drawbacks, of course. Rodney had the reputation for being an unsociable bastard despite the fact that his parents had been very married when he was conceived. Rumor had it that the linguistics department was actually going so far as to attempt to create a new phrase to sufficiently sum up just how much of an insufferable ass Rodney was, but were failing since no one is the real sciences would consider a primal scream of rage to be an actual word. So Rodney's method was definitely not making him any friends. Which was fine. Rodney didn't need friends. Really. He had his method.
On Earth this method kept Rodney knee deep in politics and got him transferred to places like Russia because he offended a certain hot dumb blonde's sensibilities.
On Atlantis it got shit done.
Rodney didn't bother to hide his smirk as he watched his scientists orbit around him, like the notes of an orchestra around the conductor. They weren't leaving until tomorrow, but those who were participating in Weed Out the Biggest Idiots Week were already cataloguing their experiments and moving them to where they could be safe until they could be resumed. That which couldn't be paused was being passed off to trusted individuals, with bribes and threats acting as the official currency. Well, most people were using bribes. Rodney had threatened to permanently alter Radek's screensaver if the Czech let damage befall his city in any way, shape or form. The fact that Radek had shooed him and told him to go 'find his colonel' left Rodney with the distinct impression that he might have to change Radek's screensaver anyway, because the man seemed to be forgetting that Rodney McKay was someone who followed through with his threats.
Maybe he'd make it say "π=3". That'd teach him.
Wait.
What did Radek mean by 'his colonel'?
Rodney stopped mid-step, his jaw hanging open. He almost went back to the lab to demand just exactly what the hell Zelenka had meant by that, but he knew if Zelenka hadn't meant anything by it and Rodney made it seem like it meant something, not that it did, then John would be the one dealing with the aftermath and while Rodney was fairly certain that Zelenka had meant something he wasn't sure if it was a something that was a big deal or if it was a something that should be ignored, or if it was only something that was meaningful to Rodney.
"My colonel," Rodney said the phrase out loud, just to test it. After all if he was going to make a rational decision he needed all of the empirical data he could get and such data could only be obtained through experimentation, and in order for such experimentation to occur the subject was going to have to be present.
Not that Rodney thought that Elizabeth would ship John off if she thought he was involved with Rodney, no matter what American Military policy was. Elizabeth had ensured that John, not Caldwell, was Atlantis's Military CO, and that John had gone from a Major to Lieutenant Colonel. Elizabeth had moved proverbial mountains to keep John in the city and she wasn't one to see her hard work undone by some underage peeping tom who couldn't keep his mouth shut. This meant that either Rifle the shorter would have to either keep his yap closed or go higher up the ladder. Considering the strength of the kid's gene and the secrecy with which he had arrived, higher up the ladder was going to be high enough to go over Elizabeth's head, which meant that John really could be forced to leave Atlantis which means that Rodney would either have to give up John or Atlantis and Rodney didn't want to give up either.
So he wouldn't.
Rodney shook himself out of his stupor and gave a surreptitious check to make sure he was alone before he began marching down the hallway. Something must have shown on his face because scientists and marines alike gave him wide berth as he walked by. Had he noticed he probably would have felt a little thrill at the power he wielded and would have mentally thumbed all the kids who had ever picked on him. Instead he continued to review his options, promising himself he'd at least talk to John before he had to do something drastic like plant a bomb in the kid's toilet.
Not that he would. He was Rodney McKay. He would never stoop so low as to copy a stupid idea from a bad movie starring Mel Gibson and his terrible hair, especially when that was a surefire way to get himself caught. Bombs were a tool to be used for affect and impact, not to be used on a single individual unless one was trying to make a statement, and if Rodney wanted to make a statement he'd just state it and skip getting viscera in his hair.
No, if it came to that Rodney wouldn't get caught. He was the smartest man in two galaxies. Plus he had heard all about the ass Rifle had kicked last night, and he had no intention of winding up a smudge on a gym mat.
Not that Rodney actually thought it would come to that. It was the back up plan. It was actually the back up plan for the back up plan that was behind the plan that he wasn't actually going to talk to John about first, because John had this weird guilt thing where the Rifles were concerned and Rodney wasn't going to let something as small as emotional angst come between him and frequent sex. It was a beautiful plan and Rodney hadn't even had to waste much time coming up with it.
It was, in fact, this brilliant plan that had him up ridiculously early to make it to the mess hall where he had proceeded to badger the poor schmuck on duty until he had relented and allowed McKay to take as many of the fresh muffins/scone things as he wanted. Rodney had only eaten one, which was an exercise in control and willpower. The things smelt like honey and tasted even better, with this strange nut aftertaste. And they didn't even have a hint of citrus. The fruit they were made from was grown only on one planet and the locals there were zealous in keeping it that way, keeping the fruit expensive. Capitalist assholes. Rodney had Katie Brown from botany seeing if she could figure out a way to make the plant grow without having the seeds for the damn thing and when she did he was going to drop seeds on every planet he went to just to show them up for being greedy jerks.
Proud and confident, Rodney made his way through Atlantis to a very specific door and didn't ever consider that the occupant might not be there. He gave three sharp knocks and waited patiently, only bouncing on his heals twice in the four seconds it took before he rapped on the door again. He was practically humming when it opened and the door filled with the mammoth frame of Ronon Dex.
Rodney's prepared conversation died before it ever reached his lips, although his mind cursed himself a fool in every language he knew, including Klingon, even as part of it whined that despite being a genius, he wasn't omnipotent. He shouldn't blame himself because there was no way he could have predicted this.
Ronon answered the door wearing nothing but a pair of loose, drawstring sweats. That, combined with the haphazard way half his dreadlocks were reaching for space and the random yet familiar veins of red indents that were imbedded into one side of his body, including one line that crossed under his eye to make him look particularly ominous today, had Rodney realizing one thing.
He had woken Ronon up.
Hell, Rodney hadn't even known that Ronon slept. Logically, it could be assumed that he did but as of before this moment there hadn't actually been any empirical evidence that the Satedan's body needed more than food to keep it running. Rodney was on the same team as Ronon and he had never seen anything that suggested Ronon slept. There was no nightwear, no yawns close to midnight, no complaints of fatigue, no surly morning look and certainly no moment of actually spotting Ronon asleep.
And now he had woken Ronon up.
While Rodney's mind continued to berate him, survival instinct raised its wonderful head and took over, channeling through Rodney's mouth in an attempt to save the body from permanent harm.
"Ronon. Um, hi. Uh, nice pants. I can see that you are a very busy man so I'm just gonna go, head that way, back to my lab where I'm supposed to be and will definitely be missed if I were to suddenly die a horrible and painful death, so yeah I should get back and do… sciency… things." McKay spun fast enough to make himself dizzy and was already headed towards safety when he felt a massive clamp ensnare his arm. He turned, his crystal blue eyes cartoonishly wide
"What do you want?" Ronon's voice was like a mudslide rushing down a mountain.
Rodney licked his lips, giving his voice time to crawl out of his throat. "Look, um, I was ah, wondering if you could tell Rifle the shorter that if he doesn't keep his mouth shut you would break both of his legs and toss him in the ocean. Not that you would have to, I mean, if he talked. I'm actually going to blow up his toilet if he talks, but I'm not really scary so if I told him I was going to blow up his toilet and he'd probably just laugh so I need you to do it cause you have the whole Conan the Barbarian thing and when you tell people you can break them in half they believe you, so if you could just threaten him so I don't actually have to blow him up I'd really appreciate it. Not that I'd blow him up. I'm way too clever to do something like that and it would really defeat the purpose of talking to you if I went and got myself thrown in the brig, so I'd probably-" A hand slamming into the wall made Rodney pause. It did not make him emit a squeak. A very manly, brave, courageous squeak. Anyone would have squeaked. Ronon was scary. "I have three bars of chocolates and five of the muffins they were serving this morning if you'll do it," Rodney finished with a rush.
Ronon frowned down at Rodney. "I want the muffins up front."
Rodney beamed. "I'll go grab them."
Ronon shook his head. "I'll pick them up." With that he released Rodney's arm.
McKay rushed off, absolutely thrilled that once again his own genius was going to save John from certain doom and this time it was costing him chocolate. From his stash. Well, Kavanaugh's stash that became Rodney's stash when the man didn't do a good enough job hiding it. Either way, chocolate was chocolate. His colonel had better appreciate that.
In fact, after Rodney was done with Ronon he should go find John. They never did get to have taboo office sex.
x-x-x-x-x-x
There was a hand buried in Sam's chest. It was buried deep, with only the very edge of the wrist peaking out from under Sam's torn shirt before the wrist smoothed itself into a masculine arm.
Sam sighed.
"What's wrong, Sammy?" Sam looked across at his brother, annoyed. Dean's clear green eyes were filled only with concern.
"This was my favorite shirt."
Dean gave a brief shrug, the motion of the shoulder causing the hand he had buried in Sam's chest to wiggle a bit. "If you want, I can go."
Sam clamped a hand onto Dean's arm, pulling his brother's hand deeper into his chest. "Please, don't." He could feel the panic beginning to spread though his chest, radiating from Dean's hand.
Dean gave a soft, sad smile. "I have to, Sammy. Can't you hear them?"
Sam could. Over the growl of the Impala's engine Sam could hear the snarling of dogs. "We could leave. Go somewhere safe."
It was Dean's turn to sigh. "You are so stupid, Sammy."
Sam blinked at his brother. "I don't understand."
Dean leaned in close, his hot breath whispering against Sam's neck. "You never do. Not until it's too late."
Sam wanted to ask Dean what he meant. He was going to, but as the body pulled back Sam could only gasp. He stared at the hand in horror, noting how blood had begun to flow around the hand, sliding over it with a caress before it dripped to the floor at Sam's feet.
Sam looked up, but the question he had for Dean died as his mouth filled with blood. John Sheppard stood, watching Dean walk away while holding Sam's lungs, one in each hand. Dean disappeared out of sight and for a moment, the sound of barking faded.
It was replaced with screams a moment later.
Sam went to take a step forward but his legs gave out. He hit the ground and he could feel the way the impact rattled through him, splitting the skin across his stomach and rattling the growing tightness in his chest. He desperately brought up an arm, trying to hold his guts in, but they slid through his fingers like spaghetti. His shoulders heaved as he tried to shovel them back in, silent sobs and blood spilling from his mouth.
John crouched across from his, watching the display with contempt in his yellow eyes. "Come on Sam. You can do better than that."
John brought a hand up and bit into Sam's lung, the organ crunching like an apple.
Sam opened his eyes in horror before a gentle light made him turn his head. He brought up an arm to shield his eyes, trying to peak over it at the approaching figure. A voice that sounded like the ocean tide pulled at him. "Wake up, Sammy."
Sam tried to answer, but he couldn't as John took another bite out of his lung.
The voice tugged again. "Wake up, Sammy."
Sam wanted to throw up as John polished off the organ, licking the blood from his fingertips as though he were some type of cat. His yellow eyes took on a calculating look as he smiled Dean's smile and looked at the other lung.
"Wake up, Sammy."
Hazel eyes popped open, immediately squeezing shut as they were seared by the room's ceiling lights. Sam moaned, or at least he would have, but his lungs weren't with the program. His back arched as he gasped, his body heaving to drag in the air his mind had denied him during his nightmare and the last dregs of sleep were washed away by pure adrenaline. He clamped his mouth shut, forcing himself to take a long rattling breath through his nose, and then another, and then another, until his breathing was even, if still a bit shaky, concentrating on the swirls on the ceiling of the room he and Dean unofficially shared in Atlantis.
Feeling himself gain a little control he moved to sit up, wincing as his muscles pulled at the act. It took all of his willpower to lift his head, knowing the Dean's concerned gaze would have watched the whole scene, waiting until Sam was ready before confronting him about the nightmare.
Dean wasn't there.
Sam was in a wing on the other side of the city before higher brain function and Atlantis cut through his panic enough to get him to catalogue the facts. He pressed his back against the wall, his t-shirt riding up as he slid down, trying to ignore the way his body was shaking as he rationalized with himself, not even aware that part of his mind was griping at Atlantis like a teddy bear.
He could feel Dean. He and his brother didn't know why they always had an inkling as to where the other was, but they did, and the inkling always grew into something more as they got closer. Dean had always marked it down to twin telepathy before wrecking Sam's hair and running off to locate some pie. Sam, on the other hand, always had a sneaking suspicion that it was something Gabriel had done. This suspicion had only grown as Dean once admitted that Gabriel had promised him an eternity with Sam. Whatever the cause, Sam could tell which direction Dean was and if he were close, something Sam doubted he would be able to do if his brother had been eaten by hellhounds that didn't even exist in this reality.
Plus the city didn't seem at all concerned, and Sam was fairly certain that if Dean were in trouble Atlantis would make sure that everybody knew it. Instead she seemed to be focusing on making sure Sam didn't do anything stupid, meaning that Dean was indeed behaving himself for once in his life.
Dean also hadn't returned to the room before Sam went to sleep a whopping two hours ago, and judging by the display his brother had put on in the gym and the way the marines had been eyeing him up after his popularity surged, wherever Dean was it was unlikely and was sleeping and he most certainly wasn't alone.
Sam let out a derisive snort feeling like a small child jumping at shadows. He'd had nightmares before, he'd have them again and he'd learn to deal with them on his own. Just because Sam couldn't figure out his own shit was no reason to drown Dean in it.
Hauling himself off the floor on shaky legs Sam stumbled through the hallway, grateful for Atlantis's watchful eye. But instead of returning to his room Sam worked his way towards the dock where he and Dean had spent their first night. He ignored the way the icy metal bit into his bare feet and the wet breeze caused goosebumps to rise on his exposed legs, sitting on the edge of the pier and gazing at Atlantis's broken reflection in the midnight ocean, letting the sound of waves clear his mind. He wasn't going to be getting any more sleep this night, but maybe he could find some peace of mind.
This was how Ronon found him, sitting the damp cold and shuddering like a stubborn idiot.
There were no questions, no words exchanged. Ronon just grabbed Sam by a cold wrist and began leading him back to the city. When Sam stumbled on numb legs, Ronon threw him over his shoulder. When he made it back to his own quarters he unceremoniously dumped the now shivering Sam on the bed. Ronon pushed Sam over, clearing up enough space for him to also drop on the bed and covered them both in a fur skin. He wrapped on arm over Sam, pulling the kid close to let his body heat seep through the boy's damp clothes.
"Sorry," Sam mumbled, though Ronon doubted the kid knew what he was apologizing for.
The Runner grunted. "Go to sleep."
They both did. And neither of them dreamed.
x-x-x-x-x-x
The Stargate rippled as Jumpers slid through it, moving surprisingly gracefully for an aircraft shaped like a brick. They settled a fair distance from the gate and marines flowed from them like ants from a hive. Just because the civilians had another day of leisure didn't mean the military did. John Sheppard directed his men efficiently as they began to set up for the next two weeks and those who didn't know him would have thought that he was rather relaxed about the whole thing.
At least, they did until they relaxed too.
Those who were part of the original expedition to Atlantis immediately caught on the Sheppard's mood and they reacted accordingly, sliding in to their best behavior while watching John with careful eyes.
Most of those who had arrived on the Daedalus long enough ago that they had already passed the boot camp they were helping setting up were confused and some were suspicious, wondering if John's passive aggressive temper was some strange side effect of the whole bug incident. Many of them made mental notes to speak to Dr. Beckett but since Dr. Beckett was in the city there was little to be done in the mean time, so they followed the example of the more senior personnel and their best not to draw attention to themselves. They were smart enough to get assigned to Atlantis only after the city had contact with Earth and they were smart enough to make sure they stayed here.
The last group, those fresh off of Caldwell's ship, were dismayed and horrified at the man they found leading the group. They had all heard stories of Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard and how he was one to toe the line, spit on it, then do things his own way. They had all formed their own idea of the man, tempered with others descriptions of him as being easygoing, laidback, and unconventional. The man verbally gutting them was nothing like the man they imagined. So they did their best, floundering under a lazy tone filled with words that cut deeper than razors.
Everyone spent the day surviving Colonel Sheppard, trying to predict what would set him off and why he was upset in the first place. Those who had figured it out weren't sharing, mostly because their best behavior didn't include pointing out the obvious.
So the marines kept on eye on their Colonel.
They would have been better served keeping an eye on the trees.
x-x-x-x-x-x
The sound of knocking bothered Sam less than the sudden loss of heat. This was partly because Dean was always in the bed closest to the door but mostly because his head was filled with warm fuzzies telling it was being handled. This, combined with the fog of a great night's rest, kept Sam lying on his side as the door was answered, snuggling deeper into the soft furs in an attempt to reclaim his previous levels of warmth.
Wait. Fur?
Sam blinked around owlishly as he propped himself up on an elbow, trusting Atlantis as she told him he was safe but still going with his instinct to figure out where the hell he was. The sound of Dr. McKay's voice growing shrill with panic only added to Sam's confusion of the morning until Ronon's soft rumble filled the air.
Sam sat up properly, half-heartedly berating himself for his asinine behavior of the previous night. Sitting on the docks in shorts and a t-shirt definitely didn't qualify as 'I'm doing fine' behavior and while being found and rescued from his own neurosis was better than freezing to death, Sam really wished it had been someone other than Ronon. He really didn't want the man to think any less of Sam and couldn't decide if Ronon tucking him in like an errant child was a good sign or a bad.
He could feel Ronon's eyes burning into his back as he heard the door shut and closed his own, dropping his head so he wouldn't have to see any judgment in Ronon's gaze.
"I thought you were asleep." Ronon's voice gave little away, as usual.
Sam just shrugged. "I thought I heard you agree to threaten Dean." His tone was only slightly defensive.
"You did." He felt the bed dip under Ronon's weight. "I was going to do it anyway. Your brother owes me a fight." Sam didn't really have anything to say to that, so he kept silent, letting Ronon make the next move. "Know what's going on?"
It was vague enough to be a loaded question. Do you know why McKay's mad at Dean? Do you know why Dean is suddenly exerting his machismo in ways you both decided against? Do you know why your brother is an asshat?
"No," Sam responded, his shoulders sagging.
Ronon grunted. "I'll have to beat it out of him."
Sam turned, looking at Ronon for the first time since waking. He could see the man's sculpted chest, his eyes flitting over various scars and instinctively trying to catalogue their sources. There was a strange one in the center of Ronon's chest, almost directly over the heart, that Sam had no hope of being able to place. His gaze traveled up, dragging itself away from Ronon's torso to look into his face. Ronon's eyes glinted with both humor and anticipation and Sam could almost taste how badly Ronon wanted to spar with Dean. There was something else, something small and furtive lurking in Ronon's eyes and Sam found it both unnerving and fascinating. If this had been anyone else but Ronon, Sam would have claimed that the person looked nervous. If there had been a mirror Sam would have seen the look in his own. Uncomfortable, Sam broke Ronon's gaze.
Only to burst out laughing.
Ronon frowned, glancing at the door to see if he had missed something. Noting nothing, he studied Sam intensely and Sam was certain he was looking for signs of illness. Gasping and laughing, Sam motioned to his own head before spitting out an explanation. "Your hair! It's ridiculous."
Ronon carefully brought a hand up to his dreadlocks, feeling the way some of them were sticking out. He frowned, reaching his hand out to the young man laughing at his side. Sam could only gasp in shock as Ronon ruffled his own hair, leaving it a tangled mess. "There," Ronon puffed. "Now we match."
Sam snorted as he futilely combed at his locks. "I guess we do." He sighed. "I should go."
As arm snaked around his chest and Sam yelped in surprise as Ronon's weight pulled him back onto the mattress. "You can go when I'm done sleeping."
Sam blinked at the face that was too close to his. "What?" he squawked.
Ronon pulled Sam a little closer. "I get cold when I sleep. You're warm."
"So I'm your hot water bottle?"
Sarcasm was lost on Ronon he relaxed deeply into the mattress. It took Sam a few seconds to realize the man had drifted to sleep and several minutes of kicking and squirming to admit that, even while asleep, Ronon was stupidly strong. Sam cursed his twenty year-old body, longing for the muscle mass he had been packing at twenty-seven. With his current strength there was no way that Sam could escape the grip the man had him in, so Sam let his head drop back as he resigned himself to the inevitable.
Atlantis gave a contented hum as both humans slept under her tender gaze.
X_X_X_X_X_X_X
Confusion Clear Ups
-Rodney McKay once hacked into John Sheppard's files because he could, and was surprised when John being qualified to join MENSA hadn't been mentioned there.
-Dean totally had sex with a fallen Angel named Anna.
-Sam witness Jessica being murdered by the same demon who killed his mother, Madison asked Sam to shoot her when she found out she was a werewolf, and the 'hell bitch' is Ruby, who turned Sam into an addict, tricked him into starting the apocalypse, and may have genuinely had a thing for him.
-π does not equal 3!
NEXT
AN-HA! There! There it is! Chapter 3! Finally! I cannot tell you guys how many times I wrote this chapter! I honestly have about 20 half completed versions! The wait for chapter 4 will be way shorter. Sorry about the wait and I hope it was totally worth it.