Stranger Here Myself by Slybrarian

[slybrarian]

Title: Stranger Here Myself (Kidfic Challenge)
Author: slybrarian
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Sheppard/Mitchell
Series: Acceleration (Follows "Inflection Points")
Words: 5,100

Summary: In which John Sheppard faces his greatest challenge yet: Thanksgiving dinner with Cam's family.



It was a Monday afternoon in late November and John was on Earth, sitting alone at a table in the SGC commissary. He was minding his own business, just like he always did no matter what some people might say, and casually flipping through personnel files of potential recruits while eating a slice of pie. It was an attempt to get something done while he was trapped on the planet. He almost didn't notice when Cam stepped through the doors, started towards the serving line, and did a double-take when he spotted John.

"Hey Sheppard," Cam called as he walked over and dropped into the chair across from John. "What the hell are you doing around here?"

"Why am I ever here?" John replied. "Dealing with the IOA's latest bullshit. Apparently they're concerned about the rate we're going through UAVs, even though we're building them on site effectively for free."

"Can't say I'm surprised."

"What about you? Shouldn't you be on your ship?"

"We just got back to Earth a couple days ago after dealing with some Lucian raiders that have been hanging around near the Beta site. It turns out that al'kesh really don't appreciate getting an Asgard beam up the ass."

John grinned. "I wish we could get some of that kind of action out in Pegasus. Did you know the Von Braun broke down again before it even got out of the Milky Way?"

"Did I know? Hell, I had to rescue the poor bastards. I guess you can't expect better when you give the IOA a half-finished ship and staff it with people who barely speak the same language." Cam leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Between you and me, an old friend in the RAF told me that the only reason Baxter got command was because he's got connections to the British IOA rep. Ten bucks says the same goes for Hsieh Ming."

The Von Braun was the IOA's pride and joy, the last original-block BC-304. It had an international crew and a senior command hand-picked by the IOA board. As could be expected, that meant that the ship had spent more time in dock than on its assigned mission of replacing the Daedalus as the expedition's support ship. As far as John could tell, both the ship's British CO and Chinese XO had been chosen for political reliability rather than any particular skill at running a warship.

"I don't suppose there's any chance Daedalus could get reassigned to Pegasus again, is there?" John asked hopefully.

"O'Neill says maybe, if the IOA can't get its act together. It'll have to wait until after the refit and the other ships are launched. Call it six, maybe seven months before a decision's finalized."

"That's the best news I've heard all day." John glanced around the mess to make sure there wasn't anyone in earshot. It was probably unnecessary, but old habits died hard. "Although it'd be second best, if you told me I could crash at your place tonight."

"You've got a key for a reason, you know. I need to get some packing done, but I'm sure you can find some way to amuse yourself."

"Packing for what?" John asked.

"The holiday." When Cam saw John's still-puzzled look, he frowned and slowly added, "Thanksgiving? I'm heading to my mom and dad's on Wednesday."

"Ooooh, right." It was always easy to forget about holidays and even the entire calendar on Atlantis, where not just the seasons but the day and year lengths were different from Earth. They made their own holidays, like Bonus Fridays and Non-Denominational Midwinter Bloodfest. "Well, that's good. I hope you have fun."

Cam eyed him suspiciously. "How long are you here for?"

"The next dial-out's Monday morning."

"You have any plans?"

"Not anymore, apparently."

"Great! You can come with me."

"I...." John's protest died on his lips as Cam looked at him with an expression entirely too earnest and hopeful for a man his age. "Okay."

Two days later, John found himself driving down a country road somewhere in the general vicinity of West Bumfuck (Auburn), Kansas. For some reason, using a transporter was out of the question, as was using a 302, and so they had to suffer through an eight hour drive. It seemed a bit unfair when they had a starship at their disposal.

The air was crisp and cold when they reached the Mitchell farm and got out of the car. Their surroundings were a picture-perfect example of Midwestern wholesomeness: clear blue sky, fields stretching as far as the eye could see, large, rambling house, and bright red barn. Other than relatively new car they had parked next to, John didn't see anything different from the last time he'd been there twenty years before.

As they walked up the drive to the house, John eyed the barn suspiciously. "You're sure there's no secret nuclear bunkers around here, right?"

Cam gave him a skeptical look, as if it wasn't a perfectly reasonable question. "Sheppard, what the hell are you talking about?"

"It's a reasonable question."

Cam shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder how you pass your psych exams."

"The same way we all do: the doc can't tell if we're insane or just had some cracked missions. Speaking of which - do they know what you do?"

"They have an idea, yeah. Hell, half the state probably does - it's not exactly hard to connect that mess with my class reunion to some of what's been released so far."

The disclosure process had started back in late October. The vast majority of the Stargate Program, including Atlantis, was still classified, but it's existence had been revealed. The idea was to do a slow, controlled burn with a firm emphasis on the positive parts. So far it seemed to be working well enough, although O'Neill might disagree given how much time he was spending in front of Congress and talk show hosts.

As they stepped up onto the porch, the door swung open and Cam's mom ran out, followed close behind by his dad. John politely stood back as they greeted Cam.

"Cameron," Wendy said as she hugged him. "It's so good to see you."

"You too, mom," Cam replied. "Dad."

Cam hugged his dad far more carefully than he had his mom, having to be mindful of the crutches. John couldn't help it when he flicked his eyes downward and thought, 'We could fix that.' He wondered if the same idea had occurred to Cam yet.

"Mom, Dad, do you remember John?" Cam asked. "Or I should say, Colonel John Sheppard."

"Of course we do," Wendy said. "It's wonderful to have you here again."

She embraced John and he awkwardly hugged her back. Thankfully Frank was just fine shaking his hand.

"Good to see you again, John," Frank said, "and congratulations on the promotion."

"Thank you, sir, and thanks for having me."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," Wendy said as she ushered them all inside. "People are always bringing strays along. Cameron, why don't you and John take your bags up to your room. Your brother and Albert should be getting here in about fifteen minutes and I've got pizza in the oven."

John managed to hold his tongue until they were tromping up the stairs and safely out of earshot. "I thought they didn't know about us?"

"They don't yet," Cam said. "She asked if it'd be okay if we shared a room since my the rest of the family is staying the night, too, and there'll be more tomorrow. I did the same with Jackson last year."

"Oh." John pursed his lips. "You're sure they didn't think you and Jackson were together?"

"Positive. Should I mention that the previous time I brought someone home, it was Vala and she claimed we were passionately in love?"

"Isn't that just great," John muttered. He had known there was something faintly untrustworthy about that woman.

"Sheppard, you are the only man I know who gets jealous retroactively, even when he knows nothing happened," Cam said with a chuckle.

"Fuck you," John said, but he grinned. "You don't have a lot to talk about anyways."

"I don't have a clue what you mean," Cam drawled. Downstairs a door slammed and a dog started barking and there was the sound of stampeding feet. "Sounds like Calvin's here. We should probably head back downstairs."

"You know, I think you've been spending way too much time with Jackson," John said as they went back down the stairs. "I don't remember you lying like that before."

"I wasn't lying, I was dissembling. There's a difference."

"Only if you're an archaeologist."

"Or an alien who can sense lies."

"Fair point." John couldn't argue with that one.

They walked down a hall decorated with numerous pictures of people as they headed for the kitchen. One in particular caught John's attention and he stopped short, holding out his arm to block Cam. He leaned in closer to study the old, faded photo.

"That's him, isn't it?" John said softly.

"Yeah," Cam replied. "That's him. Or me, I guess."

"Spooky." John shook his head. "I can't believe no one ever noticed."

"People always said my granddaddy and him looked alike enough to be brothers," Cam said. "I guess they just thought it was coincidence. He was pretty old by the time I was grown anyways. Died not long after I got my commission."

"You should talk to O'Neill about it, see if you can get him recognized. Maybe a posthumous medal or something."

Cam snorted. "I suppose so, but then we'd have to give everyone on SG-1 a jarful of medals. Do you have any ideas how many times we've died in the line of duty?"

"Maybe it'd teach you guys to be a bit more careful."

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll make Jackson slow down. Not. He's worse than you."

"I'll have you know I'm a paragon of caution and good judgment."

"That's not what Sam says," Cam told him while tugging him towards the kitchen. "Or Lorne. Or Caldwell and a couple dozen other people I've talked to."

"They're biased."

"Because they've all had to clean up your messes."

"I think it's unfair to blame me for any so-called messes," John said. "Most of them are Rodney's fault."

"Uh huh. Sure."

They stepped into the chaos of the kitchen. It was wide and spacious, with a table off to one side and a set of open double doors leading to a large dining room. There were several pizzas sitting on an island at the center and a drinks near the refrigerator. Sitting around the dining room table were a half-dozen kids, ranging from a pair in their late teens to a boy of about six or seven, all of whom were talking loudly. Frank and Wendy were sitting at the table in the kitchen, along with two men and a woman John didn't recognize. John and Cam grabbed plate, drinks, and pizza.

"John, this is Calvin, my brother, Julie, his wife, and Albert, my brother-in-law," Cam said as they sat down. "Everyone, John Sheppard."

There was a round of hellos and handshakes around the table. As John got to Calvin, he commented, "You're a bit bigger than the last time I saw you."

"Ha ha, very funny. Good to see you again you, sir," Calvin said. He was a fair bit shorter than Cam and of slighter build, but there was a definite family resemblance. He looked a lot different than the floppy-haired sixteen-year-old John remembered. He was a major in the Air Force now, although if what Cam had told John was true he'd probably be recruited into Exploration before too long.

"Likewise." John looked around. "Where's Catherine?"

"She's deployed in Afghanistan," Albert answered.

"She's a doctor with the peacekeeping force," Wendy said proudly. "We're hoping she'll be back by Christmas."

"It's a pain in the ass, but it could be worse."

John nodded. The war had changed dramatically since he had last been there, but it was still going on. Fortunately there was relatively little fighting - the Taliban had been quietly and efficiently been dealt with over the course of a few hours with the Apollo's Asgard sensors and transporters a three years prior - but there was still a considerable amount of work to be done in stabilizing the country.

"I can't say enough good things about field medics. I know a hell of a lot of people who owe them their lives," John said. "That includes me and Cam. You wouldn't believe the sort of sh- stuff our medical staff has to deal with."

"Oh, yeah," Cam said. "I mean, sure, there's all the usual - broken bones, gunshot wounds, diseases - but then you get into the really weird one, like that time O'Neill got aged."

"I did that once, too, only there wasn't a pretty girl involved."

Cam shivered almost imperceptibly. "Or the thing that made everyone act like cave men."

"Memory-loss illnesses and Lorne on uppers. Or the nightmare alien that made him try to shoot me."

"That time SG-13 started sweating clothes-eating enzymes."

"I got turned into a bug once."

Cam opened his mouth to reply, then glanced around the table. Everyone else was listening attentively. "Are we even allowed to talk about this stuff yet?"

"Hell if I know. No one remembers to send me the memos."

"Sounds exciting," Frank said.

"I wouldn't give it up for anything," Cam replied.

"He's got his own starship. He was full of himself for weeks." John told them. Of course, maybe he was acting that way because of who was sharing his cabin for the intergalactic trip. Probably not, though. John wouldn't quite rate himself above a ship. Quite.

"So you two work together?" Frank asked.

"Sort of," John said. "We're stationed pretty far apart, but the program's small enough we see each other a lot."

"That how you guys ended up together?" Calvin asked.

Cam's brows furrowed a little and he pursed his lips. "Actually, we met in flight school."

"Really, that long?" Calvin waved between them with a pizza crust. "I thought this was fairly new."

"What's new?" Wendy asked. "They've been friends forever."

"Well, friends, sure, but -" Calvin cut off when Cam glared at him. "Oops?"

"Cal, you idiot," Cam said. "Can't you ever follow instructions?"

"I thought you said you'd told them!"

"I said I was going to tell them!"

"Tell us what?" Frank asked.

"Nothing," Cam and Calvin said simultaneously. John carefully looked at his plate and tried not to laugh.

Wendy wasn't having any of it. "Cameron Jonathan Mitchell, what are you hiding from me this time?"

"I'm not hiding anything!" Cam protested. His eyes darted towards John. "I was going to tell you tonight. It was just something I thought would be better to say in person."

"You're not sick, are you? Or - oh." Wendy looked straight at John. "The two of you, then?"

"Yes, ma'am," Cam said.

"Serious?"

"Very much so, ma'am."

"And how long has this been going on?" Her tone clearly implied that the answer of 'twenty-odd years' would probably result in action too dire and terrible to describe at the kitchen table.

"Just a few months, ma'am," John said. For honesty's sake, he felt compelled to add, "More or less, at least. We've been sort of dancing around the issue a while. Plus there were two years, back when we were lieutenants."

"I see." Wendy smiled and reached across the table to pat his arm. "Well, that's good to hear. I've been telling him for a long while that he needed to find someone."

Frank's face was unreadable and he got to his feet. "Excuse me. I think I need to get some air." He made a beeline for the back door, as fast as he could manage.

"Awww, shit," Cam said once he was gone. He reached across the table and smacked his brother on the forehead. "Good going, dumbfuck."

"Language, Cameron," Wendy snapped.

"Sorry, ma'am." He looked at the door. "I suppose I should go talk to him."

"Give him a few minutes to cool off," she said. "It's freezing outside, he'll be back in before too long. Besides, you need to introduce John to the children."

The kids didn't seem to mind in the least that they'd acquired an extra uncle, and just as they were cleaning up Frank came back inside and walked through the kitchen without saying a word. Cam followed his father and by some mutual unspoken agreement Calvin, Julie, and Albert headed for the living room. The kids all disappeared into the basement. That left John and Wendy alone in the kitchen, quietly working on getting pies, salads, and other food ready for the next day.

"I wouldn't worry too much about Frank if I were you," Wendy said without warning. "He doesn't have anything against gay people, he's just a little surprised."

"I never thought otherwise," John said, because clearly an old career-military man from rural Kansas wouldn't possibly be homophobic.

Some of the underlying doubt must have crept into his voice, because Wendy sharply said, "I mean it. He's got his faults, true, but that's not one of them. His father never let a bad word be said about homosexuals in this house and brought his children up to judge people by their character, not who they slept with or what they looked like."

"Really?" John said, surprised.

Wendy nodded. "His closest friend from the service was gay. Jonathan was a good man, Frank knows that."

"Huh." Thinking about that just made John's head hurt. He could easily visualize the math of what had happened in his head, but the causal implications were too weird to even begin considering.

"Just because he's fine with gay people in general doesn't mean he's fine with a bi son," John pointed out. He had learned that himself the hard way, although in hindsight he was willing to admit that maybe, possibly he might have played some small role in encouraging his father's reaction by being a bit of an ass.

"He's had plenty of time to get over that, even if he's been hoping Cam would find some nice woman like Amy instead of a man," Wendy said. She smiled slyly. "Besides, I'm sure once he thinks about it he'll be glad Cam's settled on you instead of Ms. Mal Doran. She seemed like a good woman, but..."

"But she's still Vala," John said with a laugh.

"Exactly."

John kept an ear out, but he couldn't hear any yelling beyond the occasional screams at the TV coming from the living room. Eventually Cam reappeared and started to help with the food. John raised an eyebrow in a silent question; Cam just shrugged and rolled his eyes before starting to talk with his mom about several relatives John had never heard about.

"You and your dad okay?" John asked when they were in bed that night.

"We'll be fine," Cam replied. "He loves my cousin Joanne's partner Sally, he can't exactly complain about his own son. He doesn't even have the old 'it'll kill your career' argument anymore."

"That's good. Let me tell you, it can really suck when you can't even speak to your own family - especially since your family isn't full of assholes, unlike mine."

"We'll see if you still think that tomorrow when half the county shows up. You'll be in for the interrogation of a lifetime."

John chuckled. "Are any of them going to suck my life out?"

"Maybe. God knows that listening to my Great Aunt Annette seems to have that effect. Pray that politics don't come up, or you'll get an earful. She can go on for hours about how it's an abomination that the Democrats are the more fiscally sound party these days and how Hayes and Rose are traitors to the grand old party for working so closely with them. Who knows what she thinks about disclosure."

"It can't possibly be worse than some of my dad's parties. Now there was a bunch of blood-sucking fiends. Todd's better company than they were."

"Todd?" Cam frowned. "As in Todd from flight school Todd? I thought he was a nice guy."

John bit his lip. "Uh. Todd the Wraith Todd."

Cam groaned. "I can not believe you sometimes, Sheppard. If you were going to name a Wraith after someone, you could have at least chosen, say, that ass Steve Collins."

"Yeah," John said, hoping Cam couldn't see his shifty expression in the dark.

In the morning, John discovered that it wasn't an exaggeration to say that half the county descended on the Mitchell farm. John couldn't keep track of the number of aunts, uncles, and cousins that arrived en mass starting at about eleven. There had to be at least fifty or sixty people crowded into the house and the heated part of the garage; according to Cam, this was nothing compared to when people flew in from across the country for Christmas.

After doing the meet-and-greet and discovering that Great Aunt Annette really would fit right in with a gathering of queens, John and Cam ended up supervising a horde of kids and dogs as they ran around the back yard. At first John tried to join in the crazy game of football-slash-tag-slash-running around while flailing, but even he couldn't keep up for long. Eventually he was forced to concede that Cam's decision to sit on the porch swing and watch from a safe distance was probably the right one.

Lunch was served at precisely noon, or at least it was in theory - it took the better part of an hour to get everyone through the serving line the first time, with order determined by some arcane combination of careful pre-positioning, jockeying in line, occasional deference to seniority, and willingness to put elbows to good use. Seating was much the same, with folding tables and chairs positioned throughout the house and people clustered around them by patterns that apparently made sense to everyone but John. He played it safe and stuck close to Cam, for fear that he'd either offend someone or get a fork stuck in him by a ravenous teenager.

They ate at the same table as Cam's parents. Throughout the meal, John could feel Frank's eyes on him. He wasn't unfriendly and seemed genuinely interested in what John and Cam could tell him about their work, but none the less John got the feeling that Frank still wasn't comfortable with him being there. John tried to stay on his best behavior and refrained from feeling Cam up under the table.

After he had recovered from lunch, John found himself a convenient couch to lounge on in the basement. He somehow managed to attract a crowd of kids who were waiting for one of the Playstation controllers to become free, and soon he found himself agreeing that yes, maybe he could tell a story about his adventures as a Real Live Space Traveler.

"Okay, so," John started. "I live in Atlantis, the lost city of the Ancients, and basically I explore planets and fight fight space vampires for a living. Now, I go off-world with a team, and no matter what your uncle Cam might like to say, I have the best team in the universe. First I've got my best friend, Rodney. That's Doctor Rodney McKay to you, smartest man in two galaxies and bravest man I know. Then there's Ronon, who's this huge guy with dreadlocks. He's got a kick-ass gun and keeps knives in his hair. Finally, there's Teyla. She's the leader of her people and kick's even more ass than Ronon does, and she's smart like Rodney but with dealing with people instead. Girls, if anyone ever tells you a woman can't be just as good as a man, they're lying and you should kick them in the balls."

"Sheppard!"

John looked over his shoulder to see Cam standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his eyes narrow. John waved to him.

"Mitchell."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Telling these guys a story."

Cam sat down next to John and put his arm over his shoulder. "You better watch your mouth, 'cause if my momma catches you corrupting the kids you'll never hear the end of it."

"It's nothing they haven't heard before."

"That doesn't really matter."

"I'd also like to point out that I'm trying to teach them a valuable life lesson and you're really ruining the moment."

One of the boys made a disgusted noise. "Are you going to tell us a story or not?"

"I will if Cam shuts up. Anyone want him to shut up?"

There was a chorus reply of "Yes!"

Cam sighed. "Well, I guess I have to shut up, then."

"Yep," John said with a smug grin. "Anyways, where was I? Right, exploring. So we spend a lot of time looking for Ancient technology on other planets, because they were a bunch of morons who couldn't clean up after themselves. Now, I told you that Rodney is the smartest person in two galaxies -"

Cam snorted.

"- although to be fair, Samantha Carter is probably as smart. The thing is, sometimes he forgets important information, which is how we didn't find out there were dragons on the planet until one tried to eat us. . .."

John's story was a smash hit. Not to be outdone Cam had to tell a story of his own about hunting down the holy grail. The two of them traded off for a while until dinner, and after that they migrated up to the living room and did much the same there, albeit to a crowd of adult and rather more honest and gruesome stories about fighting Priors and super-Wraith.

"You were pretty good with the kids today," Cam said that night.

"I like kids," John admitted, thinking of Jinto and Wex (thank God Michael had some tiny bit of decency in him) and of Keras and the others on 667. Not Harmony, though, because if anything she was even more of an unholy terror than before.

"Huh. Wouldn't have figured you would. You ever think about having kids?"

"Nancy and I talked about it, but never got around to trying." Which, in retrospect, was probably a very good thing for everyone involved. "I probably would have sucked as a dad anyways. Torren's great and all, but I can't imagine what I'd do if I couldn't hand him back to Teyla and Kanaan whenever he gets cranky."

"Hmm. I wouldn't be so sure."

John turned his head and looked at Cam. "Is this that kind of talk? Because I'd hate to have to be the one who introduces you to certain basic anatomical facts, not to mention point out that we're both on the wrong side of forty and live in different galaxies.

"No!" Cam said a bit too quickly. "No, although I should warn you, my mom likes grandchildren and probably is already thinking about how nice it'd be to have one or two more."

"Oh." Well, that was certainly a frightening thought. John made a mental note to stay far, far away from the device Porter and Mehra had been talking about recently.

The next morning the family ate a late breakfast, which consisted of enough biscuits and gravy, bacon, and fried potatoes to feed a small army. After that a barely-controlled chaos ensued as everyone got ready to leave, a surprisingly complicated task that involved making sure none of the nieces and nephews had left any clothes or toys under a bed and Cam's mom forcing coolers full of pie and leftovers on everyone. In the middle of it all, John found himself being pulled aside by Frank.

"Something you wanted to talk about, sir?" John asked.

"Figure I should clear the air between us, if you and my son are... partners," Frank said.

"All right," John said cautiously. He was all for clearing the air, but in his admittedly limited experience with this sort of thing, there was going to be some sort of 'but' coming sooner or later.

"You seem like a pretty good man and I'm glad Cameron's found someone who makes him happy," Frank said, "but quite frankly, I'm not sure you'll do right by him."

"I really don't know what you mean," John said, bristling, "and I think it's up to Cam to decide whether I'm 'doing right'."

"Cam's got a good head on his shoulders, but he can be too stubborn for his own good, especially when it comes to sticking by his friends. I don't want to see him get hurt."

"Hurt how?"

"You don't exactly have the best reputation, John. Maybe it's not entirely deserved and obviously someone thinks you're doing a good job or you wouldn't be where you are, but I don't want to see him get dragged into trouble."

John took a deep breath and held it for a count of ten. "I don't know what you want me to say, sir. I'm not going to drag him into anything, but I'll do what I think is right and so will he."

"And he'll think it's right to support you no matter what," Frank replied. He sighed and ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Listen, I don't want to fight. All I ask is that you try to keep him in mind, okay?"

"I think I can promise you that much," John said. "I can't guarantee more than that, though. Especially since he's not exactly good about not causing trouble himself."

A tiny smile appeared on Frank's face. "I suppose that's true enough." He offered John his hand. "Welcome to the family."

After that there was a flurry of goodbyes and hugs. Soon John and Cam were on the road again, with enough leftovers to last a week in the trunk and a smaller cooler with turkey sandwiches and pie for them to eat on the road sitting in the back seat.

"Have fun?" Cam asked as they flew down the interstate.

"Yeah," John said. "Actually, yeah, I did. It was nice to meet your family. I'm glad I came."

Cam put his hand on John's thigh and squeezed gently. "So am I."