X by trinityofone (Superpower Challenge)
Title: X
Author: trinityofone
Rating: PG
Characters: S1 team-Sheppard, McKay, Weir, Teyla, Ford, Beckett & Zelenka
Length: ~3700 words
Summary: Scenes from another evolution.
A/N: Many thanks to wychwood, who always knows just what to tweak to make it better.
X
“You know why they’re sending you.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Of course. It’s an exploratory mission-”
“No.” The coin spun in General O’Neill’s hand, beside General O’Neill’s hand. “You know why they’re sending you.”
Elizabeth took a breath. She longed to reach out and-but no. She’d been warned; General O’Neill would not, did not react favorably to that.
She smoothed out an invisible wrinkle in her slacks. “Doctor Jackson explained your theory to me, yes,” she said. Raised an eyebrow. “It didn’t seem to temper his enthusiasm for the mission, however.”
The general’s expression was difficult to read. At least without-no. No. She watched his face instead. “Well,” he said. “Daniel.” Like it explained everything.
Before she could press him further, she was distracted by the coin. The general was looking at her, not at it, seemingly oblivious to its increasing momentum. “We’re on the same side, Doctor Weir,” he said. Then he shrugged, casually. “For what it’s worth.”
The coin shot off the table. Elizabeth reacted without thinking: caught the spinning piece of metal before it could slam into the opposite wall, held it, started to set it down before she felt the general move in and take it from her.
She turned back to him. He was still sitting-slouching-in the chair, his arms folded across his chest, as still as her own had stayed, flat at her sides. He grinned at her, like they’d just shared a great joke.
“Enjoy your exile,” he said.
One good thing about coming to work for the SGC was that Rodney knew within a day that he wasn’t military. Forget the things he wore around his neck (and still couldn’t bring himself to take off): he did not belong to the United States government, and he never would. But right now they wanted him-for his mind, they wanted him... It was nice to feel wanted.
“You do not think it is odd, though?” The little furry Czech scientist whose name he could never remember looked up at him from across the table.
Rodney shrugged. The motion still felt odd to him; everything about this body-his body-felt heavy and strange. He stared down at his plate. “Does this smell funny to you?”
He was pretty sure the little Czech-Zelenka! That was his name, yes. Remember it, hold onto it, memory-he was pretty sure Zelenka rolled his eyes; his irises were strange and it was a little hard to tell. “It is lemon chicken, it smells of lemon. There’s nothing odd about that.”
Maybe it had gone off? Rodney sniffed it again and it smelled fine, but he felt uneasy for some reason. A scrap of memory-? No, there was nothing. Maybe his unease was simply a reaction to what Zelenka was talking about. Whatever Zelenka was talking about.
“The mission?” he said. He pushed his food around the plate. “Well, it is to another galaxy.”
Zelenka waved a hand, dismissing that novelty as old hat. Maybe to him it was. But nothing was old hat to Rodney.
“The manifest,” Zelenka pressed. “Have you seen it?”
Rodney shook his head. He’d been too busy earning his reputation as Colonel Carter’s “pet,” following her around the base and soaking up physics like a man who’d stumbled out of the desert and into an oasis. She was probably beginning to regret having found him and brought him in.
“It is very nearly-” Zelenka leaned forward, tugging his hat down, as if he had something to hide. “-Entirely people like us.”
“Geniuses?” said Rodney. He’d heard Colonel Carter call him that, speaking to General O’Neill. Whatever trauma he’s experienced, physical and mental, he is undoubtedly a genius, sir. Rodney had been down the hall and around the corner at the time. He realized later that he probably was not meant to have heard.
Zelenka gave him a look. His tail twitched. “No, Rodney.”
“Oh.” That was disappointing. The regular people, he was finding, were kind of...well, annoying. “But there will be lots of geniuses, where we’re going?”
Zelenka smiled, expression kind in spite of his sharp teeth. “Yes.”
And lots of science, and learning, and a safe place where you can do nothing all day but think and experiment... No more running or hiding, ever again.
Rodney grinned. He cut a piece of chicken and, mindful of the dripping sauce, brought it to his mouth. More than just wormholes were opening, he thought, chewing. Doors were opening everywhere.
“You know,” he told Zelenka, swallowing the chicken down with a big gulp of milk. “This is really pretty good.”
John laid a hand against the flickering event horizon, nervous. It felt...odd, even-especially?-through his glove. He drew his fingers back and was staring at them when someone slapped him on the back. He started and dropped his hand. “Don’t do that, Lieutenant!”
“Sorry, sir.” The bright expression on Ford’s face faltered, replaced for half a second by something darker. Then he was smiling again. A burning bright grin, and he darted backward through the gate.
John shut his eyes and followed.
He felt: movement beyond anything, beyond even the greatest sensation of flight, of roller coasters and Ferris wheels and the wind racing over his body, touching him like no one else ever could. Then he rocketed back into himself, and he felt something else.
The City of the Ancients.
With effort, he did not tumble to his knees and press his face to the floor. Instead he managed a few slightly more dignified stuttering steps forward. Letting his P-90 hang down, he touched his hands to the wall. Smooth and cool, the surface. He wanted to rip his gloves off and caress it, but he didn’t dare be that foolish, or that brave.
All around him, the lights came on.
Teyla rose to greet the visitors, the smile she wore almost entirely genuine. It faltered slightly when she saw him, but not from displeasure. His smile clearly did not extend far beyond the surface of his face, but he stood like a man with a secret. Dressed all in black with a high collar and his wrists and hands covered. Closed off even as his grin declared he was open, open, open.
Teyla felt a familiar shiver under her skin. She repressed it.
But still she felt drawn to him, like to like. She told him of her people and of the Wraith. “We are strong,” she told him. Holding herself straight and still, breathing slow and steady, as she had practiced. We. I, like them. And it was not an illusion, not if she meant it with every piece of her heart.
She thought Major Sheppard must understand, but when she reached up to bring his forehead down to hers, he wouldn’t let her touch him.
Carson had cool hands and a reassuring voice, even when the things he said were stupid. “Are you sure you’re all right, Rodney?” he asked. “Major Sheppard said you got hit pretty bad by one of those Wraith stunners.” He shivered at the thought.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I keep telling everyone, I didn’t feel a thing! A slight tingle, maybe. Either the Wraith have useless weapons, or they couldn’t hit the side of a barn.” Rodney would have liked to believe both of those things about the Wraith; they terrified him.
Carson frowned. “Maybe you should talk to Major Sheppard.”
Rodney had been wanting to do that anyway. The Major stirred something in his mind; it felt not unlike the sensation a new/familiar piece of physics evoked, right before the universe opened wide before him. He was gaining understanding in leaps and bounds, and it was addictive. Pretty soon he would be able to live entirely inside his own head, and leave the rest behind.
Except Major Sheppard kept wanting him to come out on missions...he needed to talk to him about that, too.
He found Sheppard in the room they had decided was a gym. He was doing crunches. Rodney’s hand went involuntarily to his own stomach; he had never done crunches, that he could remember.
Sheppard finished out his set, then rose quickly to his feet and walked over to the bench. “What is it, McKay?” he asked, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and tugging the sleeves down. Rodney watched him: the careful movements of his hands as he put on his gloves.
“I didn’t feel the stunner hit me,” he said, surprising himself.
“I noticed that.” Sheppard turned around. “It got you full across the back.”
Rodney’s shoulders tensed. He could feel the muscles, drawn tight all across his body, like hot, coiled springs. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “You signed up for a one-way mission to another galaxy. There better be something wrong with you.”
Rodney gave a haughty sniff and raised his chin. “I may have a slight case of amnesia...” Sheppard’s eyes widened. “It’s the only reason Radek’s in charge instead of me!”
This had occurred to Rodney last night, and despite the fact that he liked Radek very much, it had begun to bother him. More and more, all the things he couldn’t remember...they rankled. At first it had been a relief just to be taken in, to be made useful, to be safe...but they weren’t safe anymore, were they? Not with the Wraith out there, following after him like the obscure, familiar shadows. And Rodney couldn’t make full use of himself in understanding this city until he understood...himself.
“Will you help me test something?” he asked.
The Major looked wary. “What?”
Rodney squared his shoulders. “I want you to shoot me,” he announced. He hastily amended, “In the leg!”
Sheppard’s brow furrowed. Rodney had gotten the impression that Sheppard wasn’t a complete moron; he really hoped that he wasn’t going to have to spell this out for him. But understanding dawned in Sheppard’s eyes. “Yeah?”
Rodney took a breath. “Yes.”
“Cool,” said Sheppard. He pulled his sidearm out of his pack. “I could use somebody invulnerable on my team.”
“I don’t know yet-”
Sheppard fired. Unlike the stunner, the bullet hurt. But not for long.
Ford laid his hand over the pile of sticks and the fire sprang merrily to life. He grinned and sat back, satisfied. Teyla watched him curiously. “I do not understand.” She spoke softly, her face turned slightly toward John. “It is accepted, and yet you do not speak of it?”
“I wouldn’t say accepted,” John said, letting only the most trifling undercurrent of bitterness temper his voice. “Back on Earth, things are...tense.”
“But that’s why this is such a great mission, isn’t it, sir?” Ford beamed at him. John tried to smile back, but he had to look away. His gaze found Rodney, sitting staring at the hands folded in his lap. John had heard Rodney’s breath quicken, and he had a fragile look about him, along with something that looked similar to the expression that lit his face whenever he made a new discovery, except with none of the joy.
“Idiot,” John heard him mumble-to himself. Then an awkward but startlingly fast movement: Rodney getting up and heading toward the enfolding darkness of the woods.
Ford turned to him, confused. “Sir?”
“I’ll take care of it.” John rose and brushed himself off.
“I think McKay may be a little, you know, in the head,” John heard Ford say as he walked away.
“Put yourself in his skin,” Teyla answered. “You do not know what he has been through.”
No, thought John, and neither does McKay. John’s body had betrayed him, and that he could understand; he wondered what it would be like to be betrayed by your mind. Especially when it meant as much to you as his obviously did to Ro-
Sharp. Pain in his side, burning, exploding, bright. He gasped and dropped to his knees. “Oh my God,” he heard-distant. “Sheppard, I didn’t mean-” Then a cool hand, pressing against his cheek.
“No!” he managed to croak. And then he saw-
-A dark shape coming toward him through the woods. Wraith, he thought, Them! and acted without thinking, a sharp pain from between his clenched knuckles, and here was yet another thing he hadn’t known his body could do, that it should not be able to do, and Sheppard fell to the forest floor because he’d killed him, like the mindless animal he was, he’d killed him-
-The cold could kill a man, should kill him, the only man on the vast Siberian Steppe without a coat. The men in the labs had all worn furs that they would take off when they came to look at him, revealing the shining metal buttons on their shoulders, shining like the needles as they pressed in-
-Inside he was safe, yes, but outside it was dangerous. The bee sting had almost killed him, and the servants watched him with the knowledge that every bite of food he took could be his last. But he was protected by the safety of the schoolroom, by a solid wall of books, and he could see the stars just as well through the lens of his telescope, pointing straight up at the sky-
-the sky full of stars, twinkling down at him. Pulsing like Rodney’s slowing heart as John drank it, drank it just like the Wraith would, desperately...
He pushed Rodney back with a shudder and a sob. His hands were still covered, for all the good it had done him; he reached out with shaky fingers and touched Rodney’s pulse point. Rodney’s skin was pale, but his heart was beating-was, miraculously, growing stronger. “Invulnerable,” John breathed. His own side was completely smooth, no trace of wound or scar. His head felt full, near to bursting with fear and physics and memory and Rodney-
Rodney’s eyes flew open. “Sheppard!”
His hands moved; John instinctively flinched back, but Rodney was only reaching to clutch his own knuckles, to stroke the unspoiled skin there. “What...” Rodney swallowed. Stopped. “We’re not safe to be around,” he said softly. “They’re right not to want us.”
“No.” John curled a gloved hand around the strong curve of Rodney’s bicep and, somewhat ridiculously, helped him up. “They want us to do their dirty work. They fear us but they need us, because we’re not safe.” Thin layer of fabric, protecting them as he ran a fingertip over the deceptively fragile ridge of Rodney’s curled forefinger. “Because we’re dangerous.”
Back at camp, Ford held a ball of fire in the palm of his hand. Beside him, Teyla’s eyes glinted golden and alien in the moonlight.
Elizabeth opened her eyes. Carson was leaning over her, a cool, soothing hand pressed to her forehead. John, Rodney, Radek, Teyla, Aiden, and Kate formed a nervous half-circle at the end of the bed. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut again. “What happened?”
Carson’s smile was shaky, but kind. “Things got a wee bit out of hand.”
“Out of hand?” Elizabeth asked, awkwardly pushing herself up. “…Oh.”
The infirmary floor was liberally coated with shattered glass. A partition had been overturned and, from the looks of things, stomped on. The wall behind John’s head resembled a dartboard, as if it had had a tray of syringes hurled at it-points first.
“Yeah,” said John. “Oh.”
Elizabeth flushed and touched a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, I-“ lost control. She took a breath. “But I did make contact with them.”
“You discovered their plans?” Teyla stepped forward. She looked, as usual, perfectly contained-not unlike Elizabeth had felt, before she’d touched minds with the Wraith.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
She told them what she had learned, ending with the single word that encompassed their worst fear, the Wraith’s greatest goal: Earth.
Their minds erupted in terror and, worse, resignation, dull like a drum beat. “Excuse me,” Elizabeth said, sliding off the bed and ignoring Carson’s protests. She needed to be alone.
She’d only been in her room for half an hour when Teyla rang the chime. “Come in,” Elizabeth said wearily.
The door slid open and Teyla hovered there, cloaked in shadow. “The Wraith…” she said.
She seemed reluctant to say more. Elizabeth could take it from her, this unuttered secret, but she had been taught better than that. She had to remember that she was better than that.
“When you touched their minds…” Teyla was still hiding at the edges of the room, flitting from shadow to shadow. “Did you see any goodness there? Any compassion? Or loyalty?”
No. But Elizabeth didn’t say that. It was not weak to feel compassion for one’s enemies, to allow oneself to know them.
“I saw devotion to duty, definitely.” Teyla’s hands were clasped over her stomach. Elizabeth stood up, but did not move closer. “Teyla, if there’s something you want to tell me…”
Teyla shook her head. “My people do not-They fear the Wraith’s ability to become shadows, to shift their shapes. I-“
She turned suddenly to go. Moving fast, amazingly light on her feet. Elizabeth had seen that kind of movement before.
It was not too late. One touch, and she could know everything she needed to. Who to trust, who were the friends among her enemies and who the enemies among her friends.
She knew what General O’Neill would say. And Doctor Jackson.
“I’m here when you need me,” she said, as Teyla vanished out the door like a mirage.
The Wraith were all around them. They were surrounded-not only the Athosians, not only her teammates, but this new group of soldiers she had sworn to protect. The Wraith were closing in, and as she stood now, Teyla was an open target.
But if she faded back into the shadows, faded back…
A shiver under her skin. She shifted her posture, stood up straight. Stepping into the light: “They went that way,” she said, addressing the crowd of bone masks without fear. “Follow!”
When they turned around, she shot two of them in the back. The third reeled back around, even faceless managing to display shock that one of its own had so betrayed them. Teyla hissed through the unfamiliar teeth and broke its neck.
The body fell to the floor with a satisfying thud. Teyla tossed her white hair over her shoulder and went in search of her next victim. When this was all over, she could be herself again. Or at the very least, be the leader her people counted on, be the teammate John and Elizabeth trusted. The person she had made up her mind to be.
Ford set the infirmary on fire when he made his escape, juiced up on the Wraith enzyme, the thing that none of them wanted to admit made that special twist in their own DNA burn brighter, stronger, twice as dangerous. Luckily, Carson was there to put the fire out. The room’s appearance was emblematic of much of the city: scorched then frozen, but still standing, standing still.
John stood on one of the balconies, surprised to be alive. Rodney came out and leaned on the rail beside him-not too close; he had learned that, had remembered. Better than Elizabeth, even, whose face John had had to watch experience hurt, then reluctant understanding when he twisted out of the reach of her hug. John folded gloved fingers over the rail. At least the city could still feel him, mind to mind, skin to skin, no matter what lay between them.
Rodney’s back was hunched. It made him look small and round, like a frightened animal. It made John want to press a hand to his spine, make him stand up straight, stand tall. He may not have been meant to be a warrior, but it was there within him, whether he wanted it or not. Cowardly Rodney, with his spine of steel.
Perhaps feeling John’s eyes on him, Rodney spoke. “I lost my clip.”
“What?”
Rodney was staring down at his hands. “While Radek and I were working on the ZPM. A Wraith showed up. Radek panicked; instinct, I think. He told me later that he ended up in his quarters’ closet.” Rodney indulged in a brief eyeroll before his face turned serious again. “I went for my gun, like you showed me, but when I tried to fire, I ejected the clip instead.”
John hadn’t even known it was physically possible to do that. Politely, he nodded for Rodney to continue, and remained quiet.
“It grabbed me,” Rodney said, for once his voice giving nothing away. “And it started to-and it was as if I just stopped thinking, like I had no conscious mind at all. My body reacted, and I killed it. Like I almost killed you.”
He glanced up. John stared at him, at those old blue eyes in that young face. You could see Rodney’s intelligence behind his eyes…and so much else, locked away.
“You do what you have to,” John said, “to survive.” He flexed his fingers. “We didn’t ask for this, but we get to choose.”
“Gifted or cursed?” Rodney’s mouth slid into a wry, slanting smile.
“Something like that.” John lowered his hand. Close enough to touch, if he dared. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here to stay.”
The Marine opened the door to the conference room and held it so that Elizabeth could enter. She nodded her thanks to him and stepped inside. There was a single man sitting at the long table. “Doctor Jackson,” Elizabeth said, not fully concealing her surprise. She reached forward to shake his hand, but he did not get up, merely inclined his head and indicated that she should sit. “I thought I was going to be meeting with General O’Neill.”
“General O’Neill is no longer with us.” Dr. Jackson did not elaborate, but Elizabeth could tell from his tone, from his steepled fingers and the angle of his head, that this statement was in no way a gentle euphemism for dead. There was pain in Dr. Jackson’s voice, but not grief. No, General O’Neill was not dead. He was simply…gone.
“We’ve only been away a year,” Elizabeth noted, settling in across from him.
“A lot can change in a year,” said Dr. Jackson. Then he closed his mouth, and told her everything.
Credit must of course go to the writers and creators of the X-Men universe. I’m working mostly off the first two movies and “Origin.” <-- So much love.
ETA: anna_luna made AMAZING art: Radek, John, & Rodney, and Rodney in LEATHER. *vbg*
Author: trinityofone
Rating: PG
Characters: S1 team-Sheppard, McKay, Weir, Teyla, Ford, Beckett & Zelenka
Length: ~3700 words
Summary: Scenes from another evolution.
A/N: Many thanks to wychwood, who always knows just what to tweak to make it better.
X
“You know why they’re sending you.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Of course. It’s an exploratory mission-”
“No.” The coin spun in General O’Neill’s hand, beside General O’Neill’s hand. “You know why they’re sending you.”
Elizabeth took a breath. She longed to reach out and-but no. She’d been warned; General O’Neill would not, did not react favorably to that.
She smoothed out an invisible wrinkle in her slacks. “Doctor Jackson explained your theory to me, yes,” she said. Raised an eyebrow. “It didn’t seem to temper his enthusiasm for the mission, however.”
The general’s expression was difficult to read. At least without-no. No. She watched his face instead. “Well,” he said. “Daniel.” Like it explained everything.
Before she could press him further, she was distracted by the coin. The general was looking at her, not at it, seemingly oblivious to its increasing momentum. “We’re on the same side, Doctor Weir,” he said. Then he shrugged, casually. “For what it’s worth.”
The coin shot off the table. Elizabeth reacted without thinking: caught the spinning piece of metal before it could slam into the opposite wall, held it, started to set it down before she felt the general move in and take it from her.
She turned back to him. He was still sitting-slouching-in the chair, his arms folded across his chest, as still as her own had stayed, flat at her sides. He grinned at her, like they’d just shared a great joke.
“Enjoy your exile,” he said.
One good thing about coming to work for the SGC was that Rodney knew within a day that he wasn’t military. Forget the things he wore around his neck (and still couldn’t bring himself to take off): he did not belong to the United States government, and he never would. But right now they wanted him-for his mind, they wanted him... It was nice to feel wanted.
“You do not think it is odd, though?” The little furry Czech scientist whose name he could never remember looked up at him from across the table.
Rodney shrugged. The motion still felt odd to him; everything about this body-his body-felt heavy and strange. He stared down at his plate. “Does this smell funny to you?”
He was pretty sure the little Czech-Zelenka! That was his name, yes. Remember it, hold onto it, memory-he was pretty sure Zelenka rolled his eyes; his irises were strange and it was a little hard to tell. “It is lemon chicken, it smells of lemon. There’s nothing odd about that.”
Maybe it had gone off? Rodney sniffed it again and it smelled fine, but he felt uneasy for some reason. A scrap of memory-? No, there was nothing. Maybe his unease was simply a reaction to what Zelenka was talking about. Whatever Zelenka was talking about.
“The mission?” he said. He pushed his food around the plate. “Well, it is to another galaxy.”
Zelenka waved a hand, dismissing that novelty as old hat. Maybe to him it was. But nothing was old hat to Rodney.
“The manifest,” Zelenka pressed. “Have you seen it?”
Rodney shook his head. He’d been too busy earning his reputation as Colonel Carter’s “pet,” following her around the base and soaking up physics like a man who’d stumbled out of the desert and into an oasis. She was probably beginning to regret having found him and brought him in.
“It is very nearly-” Zelenka leaned forward, tugging his hat down, as if he had something to hide. “-Entirely people like us.”
“Geniuses?” said Rodney. He’d heard Colonel Carter call him that, speaking to General O’Neill. Whatever trauma he’s experienced, physical and mental, he is undoubtedly a genius, sir. Rodney had been down the hall and around the corner at the time. He realized later that he probably was not meant to have heard.
Zelenka gave him a look. His tail twitched. “No, Rodney.”
“Oh.” That was disappointing. The regular people, he was finding, were kind of...well, annoying. “But there will be lots of geniuses, where we’re going?”
Zelenka smiled, expression kind in spite of his sharp teeth. “Yes.”
And lots of science, and learning, and a safe place where you can do nothing all day but think and experiment... No more running or hiding, ever again.
Rodney grinned. He cut a piece of chicken and, mindful of the dripping sauce, brought it to his mouth. More than just wormholes were opening, he thought, chewing. Doors were opening everywhere.
“You know,” he told Zelenka, swallowing the chicken down with a big gulp of milk. “This is really pretty good.”
John laid a hand against the flickering event horizon, nervous. It felt...odd, even-especially?-through his glove. He drew his fingers back and was staring at them when someone slapped him on the back. He started and dropped his hand. “Don’t do that, Lieutenant!”
“Sorry, sir.” The bright expression on Ford’s face faltered, replaced for half a second by something darker. Then he was smiling again. A burning bright grin, and he darted backward through the gate.
John shut his eyes and followed.
He felt: movement beyond anything, beyond even the greatest sensation of flight, of roller coasters and Ferris wheels and the wind racing over his body, touching him like no one else ever could. Then he rocketed back into himself, and he felt something else.
The City of the Ancients.
With effort, he did not tumble to his knees and press his face to the floor. Instead he managed a few slightly more dignified stuttering steps forward. Letting his P-90 hang down, he touched his hands to the wall. Smooth and cool, the surface. He wanted to rip his gloves off and caress it, but he didn’t dare be that foolish, or that brave.
All around him, the lights came on.
Teyla rose to greet the visitors, the smile she wore almost entirely genuine. It faltered slightly when she saw him, but not from displeasure. His smile clearly did not extend far beyond the surface of his face, but he stood like a man with a secret. Dressed all in black with a high collar and his wrists and hands covered. Closed off even as his grin declared he was open, open, open.
Teyla felt a familiar shiver under her skin. She repressed it.
But still she felt drawn to him, like to like. She told him of her people and of the Wraith. “We are strong,” she told him. Holding herself straight and still, breathing slow and steady, as she had practiced. We. I, like them. And it was not an illusion, not if she meant it with every piece of her heart.
She thought Major Sheppard must understand, but when she reached up to bring his forehead down to hers, he wouldn’t let her touch him.
Carson had cool hands and a reassuring voice, even when the things he said were stupid. “Are you sure you’re all right, Rodney?” he asked. “Major Sheppard said you got hit pretty bad by one of those Wraith stunners.” He shivered at the thought.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I keep telling everyone, I didn’t feel a thing! A slight tingle, maybe. Either the Wraith have useless weapons, or they couldn’t hit the side of a barn.” Rodney would have liked to believe both of those things about the Wraith; they terrified him.
Carson frowned. “Maybe you should talk to Major Sheppard.”
Rodney had been wanting to do that anyway. The Major stirred something in his mind; it felt not unlike the sensation a new/familiar piece of physics evoked, right before the universe opened wide before him. He was gaining understanding in leaps and bounds, and it was addictive. Pretty soon he would be able to live entirely inside his own head, and leave the rest behind.
Except Major Sheppard kept wanting him to come out on missions...he needed to talk to him about that, too.
He found Sheppard in the room they had decided was a gym. He was doing crunches. Rodney’s hand went involuntarily to his own stomach; he had never done crunches, that he could remember.
Sheppard finished out his set, then rose quickly to his feet and walked over to the bench. “What is it, McKay?” he asked, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and tugging the sleeves down. Rodney watched him: the careful movements of his hands as he put on his gloves.
“I didn’t feel the stunner hit me,” he said, surprising himself.
“I noticed that.” Sheppard turned around. “It got you full across the back.”
Rodney’s shoulders tensed. He could feel the muscles, drawn tight all across his body, like hot, coiled springs. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “You signed up for a one-way mission to another galaxy. There better be something wrong with you.”
Rodney gave a haughty sniff and raised his chin. “I may have a slight case of amnesia...” Sheppard’s eyes widened. “It’s the only reason Radek’s in charge instead of me!”
This had occurred to Rodney last night, and despite the fact that he liked Radek very much, it had begun to bother him. More and more, all the things he couldn’t remember...they rankled. At first it had been a relief just to be taken in, to be made useful, to be safe...but they weren’t safe anymore, were they? Not with the Wraith out there, following after him like the obscure, familiar shadows. And Rodney couldn’t make full use of himself in understanding this city until he understood...himself.
“Will you help me test something?” he asked.
The Major looked wary. “What?”
Rodney squared his shoulders. “I want you to shoot me,” he announced. He hastily amended, “In the leg!”
Sheppard’s brow furrowed. Rodney had gotten the impression that Sheppard wasn’t a complete moron; he really hoped that he wasn’t going to have to spell this out for him. But understanding dawned in Sheppard’s eyes. “Yeah?”
Rodney took a breath. “Yes.”
“Cool,” said Sheppard. He pulled his sidearm out of his pack. “I could use somebody invulnerable on my team.”
“I don’t know yet-”
Sheppard fired. Unlike the stunner, the bullet hurt. But not for long.
Ford laid his hand over the pile of sticks and the fire sprang merrily to life. He grinned and sat back, satisfied. Teyla watched him curiously. “I do not understand.” She spoke softly, her face turned slightly toward John. “It is accepted, and yet you do not speak of it?”
“I wouldn’t say accepted,” John said, letting only the most trifling undercurrent of bitterness temper his voice. “Back on Earth, things are...tense.”
“But that’s why this is such a great mission, isn’t it, sir?” Ford beamed at him. John tried to smile back, but he had to look away. His gaze found Rodney, sitting staring at the hands folded in his lap. John had heard Rodney’s breath quicken, and he had a fragile look about him, along with something that looked similar to the expression that lit his face whenever he made a new discovery, except with none of the joy.
“Idiot,” John heard him mumble-to himself. Then an awkward but startlingly fast movement: Rodney getting up and heading toward the enfolding darkness of the woods.
Ford turned to him, confused. “Sir?”
“I’ll take care of it.” John rose and brushed himself off.
“I think McKay may be a little, you know, in the head,” John heard Ford say as he walked away.
“Put yourself in his skin,” Teyla answered. “You do not know what he has been through.”
No, thought John, and neither does McKay. John’s body had betrayed him, and that he could understand; he wondered what it would be like to be betrayed by your mind. Especially when it meant as much to you as his obviously did to Ro-
Sharp. Pain in his side, burning, exploding, bright. He gasped and dropped to his knees. “Oh my God,” he heard-distant. “Sheppard, I didn’t mean-” Then a cool hand, pressing against his cheek.
“No!” he managed to croak. And then he saw-
-A dark shape coming toward him through the woods. Wraith, he thought, Them! and acted without thinking, a sharp pain from between his clenched knuckles, and here was yet another thing he hadn’t known his body could do, that it should not be able to do, and Sheppard fell to the forest floor because he’d killed him, like the mindless animal he was, he’d killed him-
-The cold could kill a man, should kill him, the only man on the vast Siberian Steppe without a coat. The men in the labs had all worn furs that they would take off when they came to look at him, revealing the shining metal buttons on their shoulders, shining like the needles as they pressed in-
-Inside he was safe, yes, but outside it was dangerous. The bee sting had almost killed him, and the servants watched him with the knowledge that every bite of food he took could be his last. But he was protected by the safety of the schoolroom, by a solid wall of books, and he could see the stars just as well through the lens of his telescope, pointing straight up at the sky-
-the sky full of stars, twinkling down at him. Pulsing like Rodney’s slowing heart as John drank it, drank it just like the Wraith would, desperately...
He pushed Rodney back with a shudder and a sob. His hands were still covered, for all the good it had done him; he reached out with shaky fingers and touched Rodney’s pulse point. Rodney’s skin was pale, but his heart was beating-was, miraculously, growing stronger. “Invulnerable,” John breathed. His own side was completely smooth, no trace of wound or scar. His head felt full, near to bursting with fear and physics and memory and Rodney-
Rodney’s eyes flew open. “Sheppard!”
His hands moved; John instinctively flinched back, but Rodney was only reaching to clutch his own knuckles, to stroke the unspoiled skin there. “What...” Rodney swallowed. Stopped. “We’re not safe to be around,” he said softly. “They’re right not to want us.”
“No.” John curled a gloved hand around the strong curve of Rodney’s bicep and, somewhat ridiculously, helped him up. “They want us to do their dirty work. They fear us but they need us, because we’re not safe.” Thin layer of fabric, protecting them as he ran a fingertip over the deceptively fragile ridge of Rodney’s curled forefinger. “Because we’re dangerous.”
Back at camp, Ford held a ball of fire in the palm of his hand. Beside him, Teyla’s eyes glinted golden and alien in the moonlight.
Elizabeth opened her eyes. Carson was leaning over her, a cool, soothing hand pressed to her forehead. John, Rodney, Radek, Teyla, Aiden, and Kate formed a nervous half-circle at the end of the bed. Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut again. “What happened?”
Carson’s smile was shaky, but kind. “Things got a wee bit out of hand.”
“Out of hand?” Elizabeth asked, awkwardly pushing herself up. “…Oh.”
The infirmary floor was liberally coated with shattered glass. A partition had been overturned and, from the looks of things, stomped on. The wall behind John’s head resembled a dartboard, as if it had had a tray of syringes hurled at it-points first.
“Yeah,” said John. “Oh.”
Elizabeth flushed and touched a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, I-“ lost control. She took a breath. “But I did make contact with them.”
“You discovered their plans?” Teyla stepped forward. She looked, as usual, perfectly contained-not unlike Elizabeth had felt, before she’d touched minds with the Wraith.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
She told them what she had learned, ending with the single word that encompassed their worst fear, the Wraith’s greatest goal: Earth.
Their minds erupted in terror and, worse, resignation, dull like a drum beat. “Excuse me,” Elizabeth said, sliding off the bed and ignoring Carson’s protests. She needed to be alone.
She’d only been in her room for half an hour when Teyla rang the chime. “Come in,” Elizabeth said wearily.
The door slid open and Teyla hovered there, cloaked in shadow. “The Wraith…” she said.
She seemed reluctant to say more. Elizabeth could take it from her, this unuttered secret, but she had been taught better than that. She had to remember that she was better than that.
“When you touched their minds…” Teyla was still hiding at the edges of the room, flitting from shadow to shadow. “Did you see any goodness there? Any compassion? Or loyalty?”
No. But Elizabeth didn’t say that. It was not weak to feel compassion for one’s enemies, to allow oneself to know them.
“I saw devotion to duty, definitely.” Teyla’s hands were clasped over her stomach. Elizabeth stood up, but did not move closer. “Teyla, if there’s something you want to tell me…”
Teyla shook her head. “My people do not-They fear the Wraith’s ability to become shadows, to shift their shapes. I-“
She turned suddenly to go. Moving fast, amazingly light on her feet. Elizabeth had seen that kind of movement before.
It was not too late. One touch, and she could know everything she needed to. Who to trust, who were the friends among her enemies and who the enemies among her friends.
She knew what General O’Neill would say. And Doctor Jackson.
“I’m here when you need me,” she said, as Teyla vanished out the door like a mirage.
The Wraith were all around them. They were surrounded-not only the Athosians, not only her teammates, but this new group of soldiers she had sworn to protect. The Wraith were closing in, and as she stood now, Teyla was an open target.
But if she faded back into the shadows, faded back…
A shiver under her skin. She shifted her posture, stood up straight. Stepping into the light: “They went that way,” she said, addressing the crowd of bone masks without fear. “Follow!”
When they turned around, she shot two of them in the back. The third reeled back around, even faceless managing to display shock that one of its own had so betrayed them. Teyla hissed through the unfamiliar teeth and broke its neck.
The body fell to the floor with a satisfying thud. Teyla tossed her white hair over her shoulder and went in search of her next victim. When this was all over, she could be herself again. Or at the very least, be the leader her people counted on, be the teammate John and Elizabeth trusted. The person she had made up her mind to be.
Ford set the infirmary on fire when he made his escape, juiced up on the Wraith enzyme, the thing that none of them wanted to admit made that special twist in their own DNA burn brighter, stronger, twice as dangerous. Luckily, Carson was there to put the fire out. The room’s appearance was emblematic of much of the city: scorched then frozen, but still standing, standing still.
John stood on one of the balconies, surprised to be alive. Rodney came out and leaned on the rail beside him-not too close; he had learned that, had remembered. Better than Elizabeth, even, whose face John had had to watch experience hurt, then reluctant understanding when he twisted out of the reach of her hug. John folded gloved fingers over the rail. At least the city could still feel him, mind to mind, skin to skin, no matter what lay between them.
Rodney’s back was hunched. It made him look small and round, like a frightened animal. It made John want to press a hand to his spine, make him stand up straight, stand tall. He may not have been meant to be a warrior, but it was there within him, whether he wanted it or not. Cowardly Rodney, with his spine of steel.
Perhaps feeling John’s eyes on him, Rodney spoke. “I lost my clip.”
“What?”
Rodney was staring down at his hands. “While Radek and I were working on the ZPM. A Wraith showed up. Radek panicked; instinct, I think. He told me later that he ended up in his quarters’ closet.” Rodney indulged in a brief eyeroll before his face turned serious again. “I went for my gun, like you showed me, but when I tried to fire, I ejected the clip instead.”
John hadn’t even known it was physically possible to do that. Politely, he nodded for Rodney to continue, and remained quiet.
“It grabbed me,” Rodney said, for once his voice giving nothing away. “And it started to-and it was as if I just stopped thinking, like I had no conscious mind at all. My body reacted, and I killed it. Like I almost killed you.”
He glanced up. John stared at him, at those old blue eyes in that young face. You could see Rodney’s intelligence behind his eyes…and so much else, locked away.
“You do what you have to,” John said, “to survive.” He flexed his fingers. “We didn’t ask for this, but we get to choose.”
“Gifted or cursed?” Rodney’s mouth slid into a wry, slanting smile.
“Something like that.” John lowered his hand. Close enough to touch, if he dared. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here to stay.”
The Marine opened the door to the conference room and held it so that Elizabeth could enter. She nodded her thanks to him and stepped inside. There was a single man sitting at the long table. “Doctor Jackson,” Elizabeth said, not fully concealing her surprise. She reached forward to shake his hand, but he did not get up, merely inclined his head and indicated that she should sit. “I thought I was going to be meeting with General O’Neill.”
“General O’Neill is no longer with us.” Dr. Jackson did not elaborate, but Elizabeth could tell from his tone, from his steepled fingers and the angle of his head, that this statement was in no way a gentle euphemism for dead. There was pain in Dr. Jackson’s voice, but not grief. No, General O’Neill was not dead. He was simply…gone.
“We’ve only been away a year,” Elizabeth noted, settling in across from him.
“A lot can change in a year,” said Dr. Jackson. Then he closed his mouth, and told her everything.
Credit must of course go to the writers and creators of the X-Men universe. I’m working mostly off the first two movies and “Origin.” <-- So much love.
ETA: anna_luna made AMAZING art: Radek, John, & Rodney, and Rodney in LEATHER. *vbg*