TEAM AWAY: Eleventh hour, "Less to Say"
Title: Less to Say
Author: flatlanddan
Team: Away
Prompt: Eleventh hour
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: R
Warnings: Rating is entirely for language.
Summary: This place is kinda weird. Not life sucking aliens weird, but still kinda weird.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the Prompt and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
Less to Say
“I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you “
- Colin Hay
July 18th, 2009
Rodney-
We said we'd let each other know when we moved for the whole mail thing so yeah. The pilot on Fair Isle just handed in his notice and I'm moving there. I don't know what my new address is going to be but Elizabeth tells me that you have hers so that's probably the best way to get in touch.
I hope you're well.
John
September 22, 2009
Rodney-
This place is kinda weird. Not life sucking aliens weird, but still kinda weird. There are about 150 people on the island right now. We're working on the wind power a bit more, but so far people seem to mostly be wondering how we're going to pay anything. We've got a bit saved up but some of the things we need to buy are massive. We're talking about converting houses. Our hydroponics team has set up these tunnels and are working to get a bit more variety in our food. The whole self sufficient thing is really big on our minds here. The main economy of this island is sheep, sweaters and tourists. I don't like any of them. We've got about eighty sheep here and every single day I wake up and am thankful that one of the people who is still here is the shepherd. He seems to think that because of my name I'll have some sort of affinity for them. I just think they have weird eyes.
I've got a little place right next to the hanger. It's not bad. Basic. I've been thinking about getting a dog or something.
I fly north twice a week (Monday and Friday) and south once a week (Wednesday). There's a ferry as well (don't laugh about the name of it if you do take it). It takes 14 hours so I figure you'd rather put up with me for twenty minutes. I'll look into when it leaves, if you want.
Anyhow, drop me a line at some point. I should have e-mail and phone again in a few months, once we get the lines sorted again.
John
December 12th, 2009
Elizabeth says that we have to write you a Christmas card. No phone. No internet. No dog.
Would it kill you to write back?
-John
February 6th, 2010
I used to think I'd lived in some fairly remote places and then I moved here. You were right when you told me that once snow and bad weather settles in for a few months your mind starts to go. There's always stuff to do, but it's hard not being able to talk about what's actually going on. Sometimes we get together and make plans, arrange for houses to be filled, shit like that. We can't do that much though in case things get figured out. Another few years, I think. I can't even write about what's going on in this letter because we think they might be opened. You know the score though.
I gotta admit though, the views are spectacular. Before we moved here this place it was a big bird watching place and nature reserve. Most of my passengers are tourists who are coming to see them. The biologists still keep the the tours going to bring in some money. I saw a pod of killer whales going by the other day.
I tried your number last week but you didn't answer. It was nice hearing your voice on the answering machine though. We've reached a communications deal and I'll try again once the phone systems get set up. I think it's going to cost about $5 a minute, so you had better pick up. I'll start spamming your e-mail too. My flights have been cut down to one a week (saturday) because we're not getting any tourists in the middle of winter. Who the hell wants to look at birds in the rain?
Jesus Rodney, I knew things didn't exactly end right but could you get in touch with someone out here? We know you left Stanford and are getting rumours you're working for the US military. WTF Rodney. W.T.F?
-John
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:13 April 2010 08:45
subject: Testing
Your e-mail has bounced from at least four other addresses but I remembered you saying that you'd gotten this one so that no one else could.
This is really petty you know? I guess I should take the hint and realise that you don't actually want to have anything to do with us anymore. It shouldn't really be a fucking news flash. You left us. You left me. I guess I just always hoped that we could work it out.
Without you here there's less to say.
We built a bigger doctors' office over the winter. With less tourists I had to cut down on my trips but we managed to get everything stocked up. The polytunnels are pretty awesome though for getting us fresh food. We've got a few special plants in there that the UK wildlife organisation (I don't know what they're called...can you tell I don't have to deal with them?) would probably kill us for having. You'll be happy to know that the lemon plant died.
A couple of families have moved off over the course of the winter and a couple more people are going to move in this spring. Elizabeth and Radek want to start converting houses into apartments since we're running out of space.
I might get a dog next month.
-John
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:28 June 2010 21:12
subject: Hey
Since my last e-mail to this account didn't bounce or get some crappy away from the office message I guess it's at least active.
It's gotten really pretty around here again. We're running a whole load of biology camps this summer which are filling up nicely. Parents are willing to pay loads to have their kids learn stuff over the summer now. I'm glad my parents never made me go out to an island to learn about birds and flowers on my holidays. Zelenka and Lorne try to make things more interesting for them. It's not so much biology for the two days they run. I saw Lorne making the first batch do drills. I was proud. Because of them and the other adult tourists we've started flying three times a week.
We've converted two houses into self contained apartments. It's a bit trickier then we thought it was going to be, but we did it and nothing backs up so it's cool. I think we're going to try and do another four this summer and then keep the rest of the buildings as houses.
I got a dog.
Her name is June. I think she's some sort of lab cross thing. Science is all interested in doing some genetic tests on her but I want to wait until more combinations get taken in the pool. She's great though. I bring her with me on my flights and we just chill out. I drink good coffee every morning and she's just there. Missed having a dog. I've missed a lot of thing these past few years.
Could you write to Elizabeth? finalboss@fairisle.co.uk
She's worried.
-John
August 18th, 2010
So you are working for the US military. Fucking stupid bastard. Did you think we wouldn't find out?
At least now I know why you're not answering anyone. Rodney, you're being a idiot. They're just using you. They'll keep using you until you're burned up and then they'll toss you out. I know you don't care about me, but can you at least learn from my fucking example? Do you think I'm fucking ok?
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:18 August 2010 07:21
subject: You're walking a line.
So you are working for the US military. Fucking stupid bastard. Did you think we wouldn't find out?
At least now I know why you're not answering anyone. Rodney, you're being a idiot. They're just using you. They'll keep using you until you're burned up and then they'll toss you out. I know you don't care about me, but can you at least learn from my fucking example? Do you think I'm fucking ok?
September 4th, 2010
We're taking the first batch of sheep to market today. June's turned into a good sheepdog (Lab/Collie mix, Cadman won the pool) so she's pulling the household weight in the “dealing with sheep” department. I still can't get over those eyes. We've got pigs now as well. And the chickens. Chickens everywhere. I wanted cows but there are concerns about them wrecking the ecosystem. Since that makes us more money then the sheep and pigs together we can't have any.
The last of the summer camp kids are here now. We've branched out a little from the Biology camp idea. Lorne and I are running a survival course thing, and we've switched the biology course to more of an applied science camp. Botany is running classes on allotment and polytunnel gardening. We still do the adult bird watching things but I was right, kids just don't like looking a birds for an entire week. Except for that one freaky kid.
I wasn't sure where to send this to, so I sent it to Jeannie. I figured if anyone had your current address it would be her. Sorry.
I got all of my stuff shipped out here from storage and I found a box of your stuff that you left. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, so I unpacked it. If you have a problem with that well you can just talk to to me.
Anyhow, we're moving back to the once a week thing once these kids are gone. Saturdays.
-John
December 5, 2010
We have these three little old ladies who knit sweaters here. They're cool. The ladies, not the sweaters. The sweaters are warm.
It's been four years, Rodney. Four years. When you left I drank for two weeks. I felt sick when I was sober. I drifted, you know? I drifted until I came here. I'm not going to say that this island saved me or anything, but it's a purpose. Elizabeth is doing something here. We're doing something here. I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey. I'm no longer moved to jump in front of trains. I can look up the stars now and not feel like someone has ripped my world apart. I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy.
Fuck it. I got them to make a sweater for you.
Merry Christmas.
-John
March 24th, 2011
You never write back, so I don't know why I feel guilty about writing to you.
We didn't have the best winter. We're down to 199 people now. There was a boating accident last week, some people who tried going out to early in the season. We called the navy in to help with search and rescue but the weather was too nasty. Carson came up with me in case we found them. We looked for hours before we heard they found the boat over the radio.
Two families and a about ten other people have moved off as well. They just realised that it's not as safe here as they thought it was. Elizabeth is talking to the people who are left and working out some deal.
Zelenka wanted me to mention that his latest article has been researched entirely from here.
June and I went for a walk to check the hedges.
Listen, if Elizabeth works this agreement out (and it's Elizabeth, she'll work it out) then we're going to be signing the paperwork soon. You know that once things are signed it's hard for more people to come onto the island. I'll e-mail to let you know when my last flight is going to be. Once stuff is signed, I don't know how easy it's going to be with paperwork.
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.
-John
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:11 April 2011 12:45
subject: May 25th, 2011
The plane leaves at 4:00pm from Tigwall Airport. That's just outside Lerwick.
This is it buddy. I'm not going to get all mushy or anything. I know you're not getting these, but it's been good to have someone to write to. Maybe they'll mean something someday. Crap, I just got mushy didn't I?
I wish you would come along for the ride. It's not as much fun without you.
All the best,
John
John sipped his coffee.
“So, today's the big day.” Lorne said, tossing the mail bag into the plane. John took another sip. “Worried?”
“About what?” John replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets well aware that it made him look like a sulking kid.
“McKay.”
“I don't want to talk about McKay.”
“What are you going to do if he shows up? I know Elizabeth sent him another formal invite.”
“I'll deal with it”
“God, you sound like some sinister mobster or something. McKay isn't something you can just deal with.”
“I'll worry about it if it happens then.” Evan smirked at him as he shut the passenger door.
“You know what the odds are on him showing up?”
“Christ, I don't care.”
“3-1 that he doesn't and the only reason they're that good is because we think Zee's last paper will get him interested.”
“Don't you have some sheep to shear or something?” John shut his eyes and pressed the lukewarm coffee against his temple.
“Nope. I've got nothing to do except report back to everyone what your official position is on McKay showing up.”
“Officially? We've survived this long without him. He would be a bonus and a valuable asset to our community.”
“And unofficially?” John opened the pilot door and moved sideways as June jumped in ahead of him and settled on the floor in the back. He climbed in afterwards, checking his dials before putting his helmet on.
“Check check?” he tried.
“And unofficially?” Evan replied, holding the radio.
“He's not going to show.”
The truth, John had to admit to himself as he taxied down the runway, was that he wasn't sure. He flew low to distract himself by looking for that ever elusive Orca pod and tried not to think about it. Things had ended badly for all of them, four years before. He still couldn't quite believe that anyone had followed Elizabeth on another mission to anywhere.
The thing he remembered most vividly about the night they had all sat around her living room was the look of desolation on Rodney's face. Everything had been confiscated the moment they had walked through the wormhole. Photographs, computers, USB sticks, DVDs, CDs, any shred of paper. It had taken him three months to get his personal belongings back.
The stupid thing was they hadn't failed but they felt like they did.
The IOA made it perfectly clear that they didn't want any of them hanging around, and after two months of desk duty John made it perfectly clear that he'd accept early retirement. He couldn't be re-assigned and he knew it. He went home and watched a Happy Days marathon until Rodney came in and collapsed on the sofa beside him. Apparently, Area 51 was only cool if they let you actually do something.
Three and a half years down the line, he figured that fight happened because they were a couple of bored, unhappy middled aged men who had had their dream fractured just enough to let reality in.
He landed at Tigwall at noon and was in his cafe in Lerwick by 12:30. It wasn't technically his cafe, but he went there every time he landed and the owner was his coffee supplier. They joked that he should open a branch on Fair Island since he figured he sold more bags of coffee to them then to the people of Lerwick. John savoured his steak sandwich and fries. His flights were going to be by necessity or appointment only now.
He headed back to the airport to check on their deliveries. The goal had never been to be completely self sufficient, just strong enough to be able to get along without relying on others all the time. Their last downfall had been that they had to follow orders. This time around, things would be done on their own terms. He checked the fruit, the inventory for the medication and then spent a good half hour checking the Sutton seed order to make sure it was all there.
At 4:05, with the tower complaining he was mucking up their schedule, he flew off. Rodney hadn't showed. The biggest downside to flying was that you couldn't pull over anywhere and bang your head against the steering wheel. He looked out the window and watched a larger ferry continue its slow trip, briefly distracting himself.
It was just starting to rain as he landed, the light patter on his windscreen vaguely comforting. He'd let June sit up front with him, something that made both Elizabeth and Lorne scared. They always thought she was going to turn off the engine, despite being seat belted in.
The best thing about the rain was that it would keep people away. Everyone was far more exited about the meeting tonight anyhow. In fact, as he pulled into the hanger John saw only three people waiting for him. Elizabeth, Evan and Katie Brown.
“They only missed out one pack of carrot seeds, so overall it was a good run.” he told them, hopping out of the train and onto land. There was an awkward silence as they unloaded, punctured only by Katie's glee at finding that the missing carrot pack had been substituted with a pack of oriental cabbage. Ten minutes later Lorne said he could finish on his own and would just bring the mail that night, so John and Elizabeth walked out into the cool air.
“Did you know he wasn't coming?” John asked slowly as they picked their way back to his house.
“I suspected.” John nodded. He watched a couple of puffins waddle across the path 30 feet in front of him and wondered what he should say.
“I didn't.” She reached into his jacket pocket and gave his hand a light squeeze.
“He could still show up. You know Rodney, he always ran to his own schedule.”
“But the signing.” She shook her head at his words.
“Rodney always came through for us. At the eleventh hour, sometimes, but he always came through.” John found himself nodding again. She was right, McKay always came through.
“You're always an optimist,” he joked.
“Nope,” she replied shaking her head. “I'm always a person who tries to make the best out of a bad situation.” She gestured around them, her arms taking in the moorlands and the crofts. “I don't think we've done to badly, do you?” He couldn't help but smile.
“No, I never thought we'd accomplish this.” They arrived at her door step and he turned down the offer for tea. Elizabeth just smiled at him and he once again found himself grateful for her. 199 lives put back on track because she believed that a government organisation couldn't control them completely. God, he was proud of her.
He and June walked back to the hanger via Puffin Way, as they had taken to calling it. The birds waddled away, completely unconcerned about them skirting the outline of the burrows. It was breeding and nesting season so he didn't get too close, but part of him was glad to see them back on the island after a winter at sea. If it hadn't been raining he would have been tempted to do a count and see if his tallied up with Biology's. Beyond the burrows he could see the large ferry coming around the the island and into the harbour. It was larger then the Good Sheppard IV, the ferry they ran for those who were scared to fly or preferred a more scenic route. The one coming into the harbour now was the Maindy May and at this point he found himself scratching his head. The Maindy only came in to move large objects or sheep and as far as he knew they had nothing due.
“Probably a mechanical error, or someone got sea sick or something” he said to no one in particular. June had the skills to at least look up at him with vague curiosity. Lorne would still be doing the mail and Elizabeth hadn't mentioned the ferry coming in. With two hours until the meeting the harbour would be un-manned. “Right, guess that leaves us.”.
He sauntered down towards the harbour, taking his time. Even if there was someone sick it would take the ferry a good 45 minutes to dock and he wasn't that far away. He'd spent far too long rushing.
The rain had picked up a bit when he made it down the harbour, but he could still see a fair amount of stuff and people seemed to be off loading. He quickened his pace and was just coming close enough to make things out properly when he heard a voice call out.
“John!” And suddenly there was Teyla, wearing a raincoat and rubber boots smushed up against him. Teyla, who the IOA had made them sever connections with. Teyla, who's abandonment had caused so many sleepless nights. God. She was real. He could smell her hair and feel her skin against his neck.
“Nice beard.” Ronon yelled out across the dock and John laughed. He had to laugh. It was all just too much to take in.
“How the hell?” he asked, releasing Teyla from the hug. Up close he could see the people on the dock were the remaining Athosians, all dressed in rain gear and peering beyond the buildings and into the land beyond. It looked to be about 30 people in all. And all at once he knew how.
“Look, there is some valuable equipment in that crate. It's worth more than your boat would get if you auctioned it off, so don't even think about dropping it. You can't afford the replacement.”
“McKay.” John said softly. Teyla smiled up at him, her eyes as mischievous as always. She gave him a gentle push on the back and that was all it took to break his legs out of the moulds they'd settled into. “McKay!” he yelled out, a bit louder. A one piece rain suit with a waterproof backpack turned around and John just about forgot where he was.
“Oh, good! Were can we put this stuff before it gets wet?” McKay looked expectantly at him, whipping some rain off his face. He looked flustered, slightly annoyed and...John's mind failed him and he tugged Rodney in close, wrapping his arms around him and ignoring the PDA squawks that McKay made.
“You came.” John whispered, not caring if McKay heard or not.
“Of course I came.”
“But you didn't answer the letters. Or the e-mails.” John couldn't help but let a slight accusational tone come into his voice.
“Well, I couldn't.” Rodney replied, pulling out of the hug. “If they thought I cared then they wouldn't let me back into the SGC. Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince them I didn't care? I thought that I was done for when Jeannie forwarded on that sweater. If it makes you feel any better, there is no chance in hell that the SGC is ever going to come to try and recruit you again. They've got you down as bat-shit insane ex-boyfriend.” John grinned at him.
“So, how?” John gestured around him at the Athosians, Ronon and what looked like...Jesus. “Is that a puddlejumper?” It was Rodney's turn to grin.
“Less talking, more moving. Is that warehouse free?”
News spread fast. Within ten minutes the dock was full of people greeting old friends, and moving crates of supplies and belongings into the warehouse. The story began filtering around. Not an official one, but the one that would go down in local legend. McKay arriving at the Athosian camp, after years of separation during which planets had been ravaged by the Replicators and they'd moved. Always moving, always looking for a safe place. But Rodney had found them. And he'd made them an offer.
“You should have said something.” John told him softly as they moved a bag of clothes into the warehouse. Rodney shook his head.
“They read everything. They listened to everything. I couldn't even tell Elizabeth.” They moved more bags.
The legend continued. They jumped through eight different stargates before Rodney jumped them home and faced the Russians head on.
“I thought the Russian stargate was destroyed?” Elizabeth questioned him. Rodney shrugged. He still had his backpack on.
“It seemed to be working fine at the time.”
Rodney had smuggled them out Russia using bribes, smuggled them into the UK in trucks. The whole situation was so wildly impossible that no one could quite believe it. Except John. He knew that the haunted look McKay wore after they'd left hadn't been for the loss of technology and research. It can be replaced, he had said. But they have no chance against the Wraith. Not anymore.
Elizabeth suggested the meeting be pushed back until she looked out into the sea of faces and realised that everyone was already there. Settling in on top of boxes and bags, she cleared her throat.
“I'd be lying if I said that this isn't everything I hoped for. We have our friends, our family, our land and lives. This island is different then the place we left because this time the situation is ours. The conditions are ours.” She took out a book and put it on the small crate in front of her. “Those of us who have been on the island know this book and these rules by heart. It's the system that we had on our first expedition together, codified into one document. Our constitution. Tonight we had planned to vote on it as a group, but I understand if...”
“Elizabeth, we trust.” Teyla interrupted softly. “We trust that you will work with our best interests in mind and that any changes that need to be made will.” Elizabeth nodded, her eyes dancing. John stood shoulder to shoulder with Rodney and felt the warmth of 231 people.
“All of those in favour of adopting in the guidelines laid out in this charter, raise your hand.” 231 hands went up. “Any opposed?” Elizabeth scanned the room and and John felt his heart tighten. “The motion is passed. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Atlantis.” They could barely hear the sound of one person over another in the cheers that went up. Elizabeth was in tears, shaking hands with Halling, hugging anyone who came within reach.
“Can we get some air?” Rodney asked, over the din. John nodded and the two stepped out, pats on the back accompanying them to the door.
It had stopped raining and the stars were out. They walked slowly to the end of the dock and sat down, feet dangling over the edge. The lights of the Maindy looked like reflections of the stars and everything seemed calm. They could hear music start up behind them.
“Bat-shit insane ex-boyfriend huh?” John asked, after a few companionable moments had passed. There was so much he wanted to ask. So many questions about how and when and why.
“You played the part well.” John made a face and Rodney simply smiled back.
“Why didn't you ask for help?”
“Why go to all that work if there wasn't something here to bring people to? I wanted to. I really did. It was lonely without being able to talk to anyone.”
“We gave up on them, but you didn't.” Rodney looked up at him sharply.
“Just like you never gave up on me. All those letters and e-mails. I wanted to write back. I really did. Can you keep a secret, for a few days?” John nodded and Rodney pulled his bag to sit between them. He unrolled the top and motioned for John to look in. John sucked air in.
“Is that...?” John asked.
“Fully charged. I found it on a planet three months ago.”
“You got it out of the SGC?”
“Left it there and picked it up on my way through with the Athosians.”
“Rodney, it's...”
“Enough power to run this island for about a thousand years, to say nothing about the research that we'll be able to do. If Radek's lab is half as good as the research he's publishing suggests then we can actually study this.” He closed the bag and turned to look back at the ocean. “I missed you. Not at first, but eventually.”
“And the jumper?”
“The Russians had that. I thought I might make up for not having written back.”
“I missed you too buddy.”
“So, we're ok?” Rodney's voice was hopeful.
“We're always ok.”
“This place doesn't feel like Atlantis. The other one. I thought it would.” John reached over tentatively and felt McKay's fingers lace into his.
“That's because this place is better.” They listened to the sound of the waves breaking against the shore, the fireworks being set off behind them, the music and laughter pouring out of the warehouse, the sound of each other breathing. Rodney squeezed.
“You're right. I never thought anywhere could be better. But this. This feels right.”
John couldn't have agreed more.
Notes
Special thanks, as always, to randommagic for putting up with me talking about this story for the better part of a year. To eviltish for listening to me talk about it last week and saying "You make me want to read it now."
Fair Island is a real place that, thankfully, is in not currently in danger of failing. The following links proved amazingly useful.
Visit Shetland
Puffins
Undiscovered Scotland
Fair Isle Blog
**
Poll Vote for this story
Author: flatlanddan
Team: Away
Prompt: Eleventh hour
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: R
Warnings: Rating is entirely for language.
Summary: This place is kinda weird. Not life sucking aliens weird, but still kinda weird.
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the Prompt and Team (Genre) information in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
**
Less to Say
“I drink good coffee every morning
Comes from a place that's far away
And when I'm done I feel like talking
Without you here there is less to say
I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy
What is closer to the truth
That if I lived till I was 102
I just don't think I'll ever get over you “
- Colin Hay
July 18th, 2009
Rodney-
We said we'd let each other know when we moved for the whole mail thing so yeah. The pilot on Fair Isle just handed in his notice and I'm moving there. I don't know what my new address is going to be but Elizabeth tells me that you have hers so that's probably the best way to get in touch.
I hope you're well.
John
September 22, 2009
Rodney-
This place is kinda weird. Not life sucking aliens weird, but still kinda weird. There are about 150 people on the island right now. We're working on the wind power a bit more, but so far people seem to mostly be wondering how we're going to pay anything. We've got a bit saved up but some of the things we need to buy are massive. We're talking about converting houses. Our hydroponics team has set up these tunnels and are working to get a bit more variety in our food. The whole self sufficient thing is really big on our minds here. The main economy of this island is sheep, sweaters and tourists. I don't like any of them. We've got about eighty sheep here and every single day I wake up and am thankful that one of the people who is still here is the shepherd. He seems to think that because of my name I'll have some sort of affinity for them. I just think they have weird eyes.
I've got a little place right next to the hanger. It's not bad. Basic. I've been thinking about getting a dog or something.
I fly north twice a week (Monday and Friday) and south once a week (Wednesday). There's a ferry as well (don't laugh about the name of it if you do take it). It takes 14 hours so I figure you'd rather put up with me for twenty minutes. I'll look into when it leaves, if you want.
Anyhow, drop me a line at some point. I should have e-mail and phone again in a few months, once we get the lines sorted again.
John
December 12th, 2009
Elizabeth says that we have to write you a Christmas card. No phone. No internet. No dog.
Would it kill you to write back?
-John
February 6th, 2010
I used to think I'd lived in some fairly remote places and then I moved here. You were right when you told me that once snow and bad weather settles in for a few months your mind starts to go. There's always stuff to do, but it's hard not being able to talk about what's actually going on. Sometimes we get together and make plans, arrange for houses to be filled, shit like that. We can't do that much though in case things get figured out. Another few years, I think. I can't even write about what's going on in this letter because we think they might be opened. You know the score though.
I gotta admit though, the views are spectacular. Before we moved here this place it was a big bird watching place and nature reserve. Most of my passengers are tourists who are coming to see them. The biologists still keep the the tours going to bring in some money. I saw a pod of killer whales going by the other day.
I tried your number last week but you didn't answer. It was nice hearing your voice on the answering machine though. We've reached a communications deal and I'll try again once the phone systems get set up. I think it's going to cost about $5 a minute, so you had better pick up. I'll start spamming your e-mail too. My flights have been cut down to one a week (saturday) because we're not getting any tourists in the middle of winter. Who the hell wants to look at birds in the rain?
Jesus Rodney, I knew things didn't exactly end right but could you get in touch with someone out here? We know you left Stanford and are getting rumours you're working for the US military. WTF Rodney. W.T.F?
-John
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:13 April 2010 08:45
subject: Testing
Your e-mail has bounced from at least four other addresses but I remembered you saying that you'd gotten this one so that no one else could.
This is really petty you know? I guess I should take the hint and realise that you don't actually want to have anything to do with us anymore. It shouldn't really be a fucking news flash. You left us. You left me. I guess I just always hoped that we could work it out.
Without you here there's less to say.
We built a bigger doctors' office over the winter. With less tourists I had to cut down on my trips but we managed to get everything stocked up. The polytunnels are pretty awesome though for getting us fresh food. We've got a few special plants in there that the UK wildlife organisation (I don't know what they're called...can you tell I don't have to deal with them?) would probably kill us for having. You'll be happy to know that the lemon plant died.
A couple of families have moved off over the course of the winter and a couple more people are going to move in this spring. Elizabeth and Radek want to start converting houses into apartments since we're running out of space.
I might get a dog next month.
-John
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:28 June 2010 21:12
subject: Hey
Since my last e-mail to this account didn't bounce or get some crappy away from the office message I guess it's at least active.
It's gotten really pretty around here again. We're running a whole load of biology camps this summer which are filling up nicely. Parents are willing to pay loads to have their kids learn stuff over the summer now. I'm glad my parents never made me go out to an island to learn about birds and flowers on my holidays. Zelenka and Lorne try to make things more interesting for them. It's not so much biology for the two days they run. I saw Lorne making the first batch do drills. I was proud. Because of them and the other adult tourists we've started flying three times a week.
We've converted two houses into self contained apartments. It's a bit trickier then we thought it was going to be, but we did it and nothing backs up so it's cool. I think we're going to try and do another four this summer and then keep the rest of the buildings as houses.
I got a dog.
Her name is June. I think she's some sort of lab cross thing. Science is all interested in doing some genetic tests on her but I want to wait until more combinations get taken in the pool. She's great though. I bring her with me on my flights and we just chill out. I drink good coffee every morning and she's just there. Missed having a dog. I've missed a lot of thing these past few years.
Could you write to Elizabeth? finalboss@fairisle.co.uk
She's worried.
-John
August 18th, 2010
So you are working for the US military. Fucking stupid bastard. Did you think we wouldn't find out?
At least now I know why you're not answering anyone. Rodney, you're being a idiot. They're just using you. They'll keep using you until you're burned up and then they'll toss you out. I know you don't care about me, but can you at least learn from my fucking example? Do you think I'm fucking ok?
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:18 August 2010 07:21
subject: You're walking a line.
So you are working for the US military. Fucking stupid bastard. Did you think we wouldn't find out?
At least now I know why you're not answering anyone. Rodney, you're being a idiot. They're just using you. They'll keep using you until you're burned up and then they'll toss you out. I know you don't care about me, but can you at least learn from my fucking example? Do you think I'm fucking ok?
September 4th, 2010
We're taking the first batch of sheep to market today. June's turned into a good sheepdog (Lab/Collie mix, Cadman won the pool) so she's pulling the household weight in the “dealing with sheep” department. I still can't get over those eyes. We've got pigs now as well. And the chickens. Chickens everywhere. I wanted cows but there are concerns about them wrecking the ecosystem. Since that makes us more money then the sheep and pigs together we can't have any.
The last of the summer camp kids are here now. We've branched out a little from the Biology camp idea. Lorne and I are running a survival course thing, and we've switched the biology course to more of an applied science camp. Botany is running classes on allotment and polytunnel gardening. We still do the adult bird watching things but I was right, kids just don't like looking a birds for an entire week. Except for that one freaky kid.
I wasn't sure where to send this to, so I sent it to Jeannie. I figured if anyone had your current address it would be her. Sorry.
I got all of my stuff shipped out here from storage and I found a box of your stuff that you left. I wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, so I unpacked it. If you have a problem with that well you can just talk to to me.
Anyhow, we're moving back to the once a week thing once these kids are gone. Saturdays.
-John
December 5, 2010
We have these three little old ladies who knit sweaters here. They're cool. The ladies, not the sweaters. The sweaters are warm.
It's been four years, Rodney. Four years. When you left I drank for two weeks. I felt sick when I was sober. I drifted, you know? I drifted until I came here. I'm not going to say that this island saved me or anything, but it's a purpose. Elizabeth is doing something here. We're doing something here. I'm no longer moved to drink strong whiskey. I'm no longer moved to jump in front of trains. I can look up the stars now and not feel like someone has ripped my world apart. I don't want you thinking I'm unhappy.
Fuck it. I got them to make a sweater for you.
Merry Christmas.
-John
March 24th, 2011
You never write back, so I don't know why I feel guilty about writing to you.
We didn't have the best winter. We're down to 199 people now. There was a boating accident last week, some people who tried going out to early in the season. We called the navy in to help with search and rescue but the weather was too nasty. Carson came up with me in case we found them. We looked for hours before we heard they found the boat over the radio.
Two families and a about ten other people have moved off as well. They just realised that it's not as safe here as they thought it was. Elizabeth is talking to the people who are left and working out some deal.
Zelenka wanted me to mention that his latest article has been researched entirely from here.
June and I went for a walk to check the hedges.
Listen, if Elizabeth works this agreement out (and it's Elizabeth, she'll work it out) then we're going to be signing the paperwork soon. You know that once things are signed it's hard for more people to come onto the island. I'll e-mail to let you know when my last flight is going to be. Once stuff is signed, I don't know how easy it's going to be with paperwork.
I just don't think I'll ever get over you.
-John
from: flyguy@fairisle.co.uk
to: mrmckay@gmail.com
date:11 April 2011 12:45
subject: May 25th, 2011
The plane leaves at 4:00pm from Tigwall Airport. That's just outside Lerwick.
This is it buddy. I'm not going to get all mushy or anything. I know you're not getting these, but it's been good to have someone to write to. Maybe they'll mean something someday. Crap, I just got mushy didn't I?
I wish you would come along for the ride. It's not as much fun without you.
All the best,
John
John sipped his coffee.
“So, today's the big day.” Lorne said, tossing the mail bag into the plane. John took another sip. “Worried?”
“About what?” John replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets well aware that it made him look like a sulking kid.
“McKay.”
“I don't want to talk about McKay.”
“What are you going to do if he shows up? I know Elizabeth sent him another formal invite.”
“I'll deal with it”
“God, you sound like some sinister mobster or something. McKay isn't something you can just deal with.”
“I'll worry about it if it happens then.” Evan smirked at him as he shut the passenger door.
“You know what the odds are on him showing up?”
“Christ, I don't care.”
“3-1 that he doesn't and the only reason they're that good is because we think Zee's last paper will get him interested.”
“Don't you have some sheep to shear or something?” John shut his eyes and pressed the lukewarm coffee against his temple.
“Nope. I've got nothing to do except report back to everyone what your official position is on McKay showing up.”
“Officially? We've survived this long without him. He would be a bonus and a valuable asset to our community.”
“And unofficially?” John opened the pilot door and moved sideways as June jumped in ahead of him and settled on the floor in the back. He climbed in afterwards, checking his dials before putting his helmet on.
“Check check?” he tried.
“And unofficially?” Evan replied, holding the radio.
“He's not going to show.”
The truth, John had to admit to himself as he taxied down the runway, was that he wasn't sure. He flew low to distract himself by looking for that ever elusive Orca pod and tried not to think about it. Things had ended badly for all of them, four years before. He still couldn't quite believe that anyone had followed Elizabeth on another mission to anywhere.
The thing he remembered most vividly about the night they had all sat around her living room was the look of desolation on Rodney's face. Everything had been confiscated the moment they had walked through the wormhole. Photographs, computers, USB sticks, DVDs, CDs, any shred of paper. It had taken him three months to get his personal belongings back.
The stupid thing was they hadn't failed but they felt like they did.
The IOA made it perfectly clear that they didn't want any of them hanging around, and after two months of desk duty John made it perfectly clear that he'd accept early retirement. He couldn't be re-assigned and he knew it. He went home and watched a Happy Days marathon until Rodney came in and collapsed on the sofa beside him. Apparently, Area 51 was only cool if they let you actually do something.
Three and a half years down the line, he figured that fight happened because they were a couple of bored, unhappy middled aged men who had had their dream fractured just enough to let reality in.
He landed at Tigwall at noon and was in his cafe in Lerwick by 12:30. It wasn't technically his cafe, but he went there every time he landed and the owner was his coffee supplier. They joked that he should open a branch on Fair Island since he figured he sold more bags of coffee to them then to the people of Lerwick. John savoured his steak sandwich and fries. His flights were going to be by necessity or appointment only now.
He headed back to the airport to check on their deliveries. The goal had never been to be completely self sufficient, just strong enough to be able to get along without relying on others all the time. Their last downfall had been that they had to follow orders. This time around, things would be done on their own terms. He checked the fruit, the inventory for the medication and then spent a good half hour checking the Sutton seed order to make sure it was all there.
At 4:05, with the tower complaining he was mucking up their schedule, he flew off. Rodney hadn't showed. The biggest downside to flying was that you couldn't pull over anywhere and bang your head against the steering wheel. He looked out the window and watched a larger ferry continue its slow trip, briefly distracting himself.
It was just starting to rain as he landed, the light patter on his windscreen vaguely comforting. He'd let June sit up front with him, something that made both Elizabeth and Lorne scared. They always thought she was going to turn off the engine, despite being seat belted in.
The best thing about the rain was that it would keep people away. Everyone was far more exited about the meeting tonight anyhow. In fact, as he pulled into the hanger John saw only three people waiting for him. Elizabeth, Evan and Katie Brown.
“They only missed out one pack of carrot seeds, so overall it was a good run.” he told them, hopping out of the train and onto land. There was an awkward silence as they unloaded, punctured only by Katie's glee at finding that the missing carrot pack had been substituted with a pack of oriental cabbage. Ten minutes later Lorne said he could finish on his own and would just bring the mail that night, so John and Elizabeth walked out into the cool air.
“Did you know he wasn't coming?” John asked slowly as they picked their way back to his house.
“I suspected.” John nodded. He watched a couple of puffins waddle across the path 30 feet in front of him and wondered what he should say.
“I didn't.” She reached into his jacket pocket and gave his hand a light squeeze.
“He could still show up. You know Rodney, he always ran to his own schedule.”
“But the signing.” She shook her head at his words.
“Rodney always came through for us. At the eleventh hour, sometimes, but he always came through.” John found himself nodding again. She was right, McKay always came through.
“You're always an optimist,” he joked.
“Nope,” she replied shaking her head. “I'm always a person who tries to make the best out of a bad situation.” She gestured around them, her arms taking in the moorlands and the crofts. “I don't think we've done to badly, do you?” He couldn't help but smile.
“No, I never thought we'd accomplish this.” They arrived at her door step and he turned down the offer for tea. Elizabeth just smiled at him and he once again found himself grateful for her. 199 lives put back on track because she believed that a government organisation couldn't control them completely. God, he was proud of her.
He and June walked back to the hanger via Puffin Way, as they had taken to calling it. The birds waddled away, completely unconcerned about them skirting the outline of the burrows. It was breeding and nesting season so he didn't get too close, but part of him was glad to see them back on the island after a winter at sea. If it hadn't been raining he would have been tempted to do a count and see if his tallied up with Biology's. Beyond the burrows he could see the large ferry coming around the the island and into the harbour. It was larger then the Good Sheppard IV, the ferry they ran for those who were scared to fly or preferred a more scenic route. The one coming into the harbour now was the Maindy May and at this point he found himself scratching his head. The Maindy only came in to move large objects or sheep and as far as he knew they had nothing due.
“Probably a mechanical error, or someone got sea sick or something” he said to no one in particular. June had the skills to at least look up at him with vague curiosity. Lorne would still be doing the mail and Elizabeth hadn't mentioned the ferry coming in. With two hours until the meeting the harbour would be un-manned. “Right, guess that leaves us.”.
He sauntered down towards the harbour, taking his time. Even if there was someone sick it would take the ferry a good 45 minutes to dock and he wasn't that far away. He'd spent far too long rushing.
The rain had picked up a bit when he made it down the harbour, but he could still see a fair amount of stuff and people seemed to be off loading. He quickened his pace and was just coming close enough to make things out properly when he heard a voice call out.
“John!” And suddenly there was Teyla, wearing a raincoat and rubber boots smushed up against him. Teyla, who the IOA had made them sever connections with. Teyla, who's abandonment had caused so many sleepless nights. God. She was real. He could smell her hair and feel her skin against his neck.
“Nice beard.” Ronon yelled out across the dock and John laughed. He had to laugh. It was all just too much to take in.
“How the hell?” he asked, releasing Teyla from the hug. Up close he could see the people on the dock were the remaining Athosians, all dressed in rain gear and peering beyond the buildings and into the land beyond. It looked to be about 30 people in all. And all at once he knew how.
“Look, there is some valuable equipment in that crate. It's worth more than your boat would get if you auctioned it off, so don't even think about dropping it. You can't afford the replacement.”
“McKay.” John said softly. Teyla smiled up at him, her eyes as mischievous as always. She gave him a gentle push on the back and that was all it took to break his legs out of the moulds they'd settled into. “McKay!” he yelled out, a bit louder. A one piece rain suit with a waterproof backpack turned around and John just about forgot where he was.
“Oh, good! Were can we put this stuff before it gets wet?” McKay looked expectantly at him, whipping some rain off his face. He looked flustered, slightly annoyed and...John's mind failed him and he tugged Rodney in close, wrapping his arms around him and ignoring the PDA squawks that McKay made.
“You came.” John whispered, not caring if McKay heard or not.
“Of course I came.”
“But you didn't answer the letters. Or the e-mails.” John couldn't help but let a slight accusational tone come into his voice.
“Well, I couldn't.” Rodney replied, pulling out of the hug. “If they thought I cared then they wouldn't let me back into the SGC. Do you have any idea how hard it was to convince them I didn't care? I thought that I was done for when Jeannie forwarded on that sweater. If it makes you feel any better, there is no chance in hell that the SGC is ever going to come to try and recruit you again. They've got you down as bat-shit insane ex-boyfriend.” John grinned at him.
“So, how?” John gestured around him at the Athosians, Ronon and what looked like...Jesus. “Is that a puddlejumper?” It was Rodney's turn to grin.
“Less talking, more moving. Is that warehouse free?”
News spread fast. Within ten minutes the dock was full of people greeting old friends, and moving crates of supplies and belongings into the warehouse. The story began filtering around. Not an official one, but the one that would go down in local legend. McKay arriving at the Athosian camp, after years of separation during which planets had been ravaged by the Replicators and they'd moved. Always moving, always looking for a safe place. But Rodney had found them. And he'd made them an offer.
“You should have said something.” John told him softly as they moved a bag of clothes into the warehouse. Rodney shook his head.
“They read everything. They listened to everything. I couldn't even tell Elizabeth.” They moved more bags.
The legend continued. They jumped through eight different stargates before Rodney jumped them home and faced the Russians head on.
“I thought the Russian stargate was destroyed?” Elizabeth questioned him. Rodney shrugged. He still had his backpack on.
“It seemed to be working fine at the time.”
Rodney had smuggled them out Russia using bribes, smuggled them into the UK in trucks. The whole situation was so wildly impossible that no one could quite believe it. Except John. He knew that the haunted look McKay wore after they'd left hadn't been for the loss of technology and research. It can be replaced, he had said. But they have no chance against the Wraith. Not anymore.
Elizabeth suggested the meeting be pushed back until she looked out into the sea of faces and realised that everyone was already there. Settling in on top of boxes and bags, she cleared her throat.
“I'd be lying if I said that this isn't everything I hoped for. We have our friends, our family, our land and lives. This island is different then the place we left because this time the situation is ours. The conditions are ours.” She took out a book and put it on the small crate in front of her. “Those of us who have been on the island know this book and these rules by heart. It's the system that we had on our first expedition together, codified into one document. Our constitution. Tonight we had planned to vote on it as a group, but I understand if...”
“Elizabeth, we trust.” Teyla interrupted softly. “We trust that you will work with our best interests in mind and that any changes that need to be made will.” Elizabeth nodded, her eyes dancing. John stood shoulder to shoulder with Rodney and felt the warmth of 231 people.
“All of those in favour of adopting in the guidelines laid out in this charter, raise your hand.” 231 hands went up. “Any opposed?” Elizabeth scanned the room and and John felt his heart tighten. “The motion is passed. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Atlantis.” They could barely hear the sound of one person over another in the cheers that went up. Elizabeth was in tears, shaking hands with Halling, hugging anyone who came within reach.
“Can we get some air?” Rodney asked, over the din. John nodded and the two stepped out, pats on the back accompanying them to the door.
It had stopped raining and the stars were out. They walked slowly to the end of the dock and sat down, feet dangling over the edge. The lights of the Maindy looked like reflections of the stars and everything seemed calm. They could hear music start up behind them.
“Bat-shit insane ex-boyfriend huh?” John asked, after a few companionable moments had passed. There was so much he wanted to ask. So many questions about how and when and why.
“You played the part well.” John made a face and Rodney simply smiled back.
“Why didn't you ask for help?”
“Why go to all that work if there wasn't something here to bring people to? I wanted to. I really did. It was lonely without being able to talk to anyone.”
“We gave up on them, but you didn't.” Rodney looked up at him sharply.
“Just like you never gave up on me. All those letters and e-mails. I wanted to write back. I really did. Can you keep a secret, for a few days?” John nodded and Rodney pulled his bag to sit between them. He unrolled the top and motioned for John to look in. John sucked air in.
“Is that...?” John asked.
“Fully charged. I found it on a planet three months ago.”
“You got it out of the SGC?”
“Left it there and picked it up on my way through with the Athosians.”
“Rodney, it's...”
“Enough power to run this island for about a thousand years, to say nothing about the research that we'll be able to do. If Radek's lab is half as good as the research he's publishing suggests then we can actually study this.” He closed the bag and turned to look back at the ocean. “I missed you. Not at first, but eventually.”
“And the jumper?”
“The Russians had that. I thought I might make up for not having written back.”
“I missed you too buddy.”
“So, we're ok?” Rodney's voice was hopeful.
“We're always ok.”
“This place doesn't feel like Atlantis. The other one. I thought it would.” John reached over tentatively and felt McKay's fingers lace into his.
“That's because this place is better.” They listened to the sound of the waves breaking against the shore, the fireworks being set off behind them, the music and laughter pouring out of the warehouse, the sound of each other breathing. Rodney squeezed.
“You're right. I never thought anywhere could be better. But this. This feels right.”
John couldn't have agreed more.
Notes
Special thanks, as always, to randommagic for putting up with me talking about this story for the better part of a year. To eviltish for listening to me talk about it last week and saying "You make me want to read it now."
Fair Island is a real place that, thankfully, is in not currently in danger of failing. The following links proved amazingly useful.
Visit Shetland
Puffins
Undiscovered Scotland
Fair Isle Blog
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