Brothers, wildcat88 [karri_kln1671]
Title: Brothers
Author:
wildcat88
Rating: PG
Characters: David Sheppard, Nancy, Rodney, Ronon, cameos by various others
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Outcast and The Last Man
Request: prompt by
karri_kln1671
Summary: Nancy and David learn that John has been declared KIA.
A/N: Thanks to
kristen999 for the lightening fast beta. All mistakes mine.
Dave slowly shifted the Esplanade into park and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel. A six a.m. breakfast to discuss the next rate case followed by an eight hour board meeting then dinner and drinks with the majority stockholder of a large construction company that would soon be for sale. He missed Dad - his analytical mind, his keen business sense, his unique perspective. Giving himself a mental shake, Dave climbed from the SUV, walked past the Ferrari, the Bentley, and the BMW, pressed the garage door button, and trudged into the house. After disarming the burglar alarm, he peeled off his coat and slung it over a barstool, dropping his tie on top of it, then poured two fingers of Scotch and sank into his favorite chair.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and let the alcohol burn its way down. Just as the muscles in his shoulders began to unwind, the doorbell rang. With a heavy sigh, Dave climbed to his feet and made his way through the house, reminding himself once again that it was time to downsize. A glimpse through the peephole showed a man, his face shadowed, wearing Air Force dress blues. Dave’s hands moved before his brain could stop them, jerking the door open.
“John?”
The man stepped forward. “David Sheppard?”
Dave went numb as he focused on the man’s face. Blood rushed in his ears, and he blinked rapidly, waiting for the face to resolve into John’s. When it didn’t, he answered with a hoarse, “Yes?”
“I’m General Jack O’Neill. May I come in?”
His legs wouldn’t move, leaving him staring at the older man uncomprehendingly. “What?”
O’Neill smiled sympathetically. “I only need a few minutes of your time. If I may.” He gestured vaguely toward the house.
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.” Dave moved back, allowing O’Neill to enter. “Can I get you something to drink? Scotch? Bourbon?”
The general shook his head. “No, thank you. Um, can we sit down?”
“It’s John, isn’t it?”
“Let’s sit.” O’Neill walked through the foyer past the study, the Renoir, the Monet, and the dining room that sat twenty to the den and took a seat on the divan, waiting patiently until Dave sat across from him. “Mr. Sheppard, it is my sad duty to inform you that your brother, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard has been declared Killed in Action. He-”
“’Declared?’” Dave repeated. “Are you telling me he might still be alive?”
O’Neill leaned forward intently. “I’m telling you that your brother is never coming home.”
“But-”
“Look, I know this is hard to accept, and I am very sorry for your loss, but Shep- John is gone. You have the deepest sympathies of myself and the entire United States Air Force. Your brother was a hero, Mr. Sheppard. He saved more lives than I can count, including mine, and he died doing his duty. We are arranging a military funeral at Arlington National Cemetery.”
“We have a family plot.”
O’Neill sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “We will honor your wishes, of course, but I would like to point out that your brother left a will….”
Dave’s head dropped. Even in death, John was defiant. “What did it say?”
“He left almost everything to you, but he requested to be buried at Arlington. Seems he has friends there.”
He stared at O’Neill, trying to process what the man was saying while suddenly realizing how little he knew about his brother. And now it was too late.
“Mr. Sheppard?”
Dave startled then shook his head ruefully. “Sorry. Long day.”
The general handed him a card. “Call me if you need anything. Someone from my office will be contacting you about details. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Did he suffer?”
The general hesitated, his drifting eyes signaling his search for an unclassified answer. “No. From the little we understand it was instantaneous.” O’Neill gripped Dave’s shoulder. “Do you have someone to be with you?”
Dave shook his head, staring at his hands, the only sound in the house the ticking of the grandfather clock. “No,” he answered. “I don’t have anyone.”
xxx
Nancy pulled off a shoe, rubbing the arch of her foot. Three inch heels were not made for the long walk to Capitol Hill especially not twice in the same day. But the intel was solid, and the committee had greenlighted the operation. She finished her report and emailed it to her boss. Her laptop was powering down when her cell rang. Grant.
“Hi, honey.”
“Still at the office?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I was just shutting down. Are you already home?”
“No, unfortunately,” he sighed. “My flight has been canceled. Something about storms in the mid-west. There are no more flights leaving LA tonight.”
Her office line rang. Glancing at the readout, she let it go to voicemail. Anders in communications. He could wait. “I hate to hear that, Grant, but I know how it is. We’re scheduled for dinner tomorrow night with Anita and Sumir. Do I need to postpone?”
“God, I hope not. I should be home long before then.” His voice deepened, roughened. “I have something for you.”
Nancy giggled. “I bet you do. Call me tomorrow when you have flight details.”
“I will. Now, go home.”
“I’m going! Goodnight, Grant. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Goodnight.”
She tucked her Blackberry back in her purse, stuffed her laptop in its case, and headed for the door only to stop as the message light on her office phone blinked insistently. Sighing, she set her belongings in a visitor chair and checked her voicemail.
“Hey, Nance. Marlon Anders here. Do you remember a few months ago when you asked for information on a… Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard? We had some flash traffic on him today. Seems the Air Force has pronounced him KIA. Hope that helps.”
John? Dead? Nancy dropped into her desk chair as her heart squeezed painfully. Memories of her life with John flashed in her mind - that wicked smile, his beautiful eyes that always said what he couldn’t vocalize, features that could harden into a frightening mask or soften into the man she fell in love with. And she had loved him, still did in some ways. Grant was… safe, responsible, open - the kind of man she needed. She didn’t miss the secrets, but sometimes when she was being completely honest, she missed the element of danger that had surrounded John. And had apparently killed him.
Suddenly thankful Grant wasn’t coming home, Nancy grabbed her things and hurried to her car. She drove for a while, allowing her thoughts to roam freely. She wasn’t surprised when she found herself at the park, trailing her hand over the back of the bench where they’d sat, where John had asked for her help. Taking a seat, she lifted her face to the sky, the late night breeze stirring her hair as the moon reflected off the pond. And slowly, the tears fell.
xxx
Dave hung up the phone and stared at the legal pad filled with scribbled notes. Two funerals in six months. Dad’s had been easy, but John’s…. He had no idea how to plan a memorial service for a man he didn’t know. Pushing away from the antique desk, he headed to the wet bar and reached for the Scotch, disappointed to find the bottle empty. Had it only been two days since it was half full? His reflection in the mirrored shelves mocked him. For a man who prided himself in his appearance, he was a wreck - hair uncombed, the famous Sheppard five o’clock shadow out of control, his shirt wrinkled. He placed the empty container in the trash, choosing a chilled bottle of Evian instead. His thirst quenched, he went upstairs for a shower and a shave. He was tucking in his shirt, towel wrapped around his neck, when the doorbell chimed.
Hurrying downstairs, he was surprised to find his ex-sister-in-law on the front step. Then again, rumor had it she worked at Homeland Security. Maybe she knew something.
Dave opened the door with a warm smile. “Hello, Nancy. Good to see you.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she stepped inside and hugged him. He patted her shoulder awkwardly then politely extricated himself from her grasp.
“I take it you’ve heard about John.”
“Oh, Dave, I’m so sorry. First your dad and now John. It’s not fair.”
He gestured for her to enter. “Come on in.”
She followed him through the house to the family room, declining his offer for a drink as she took a seat on the leather sofa. “How are you doing?” she asked.
Dave huffed a laugh. “I’m fine.” At her sympathetic expression, he said, “No, really, I am. At first it was a shock. John has… had a way of making you believe everything would always be all right, almost like he was charmed. I- I never thought…. Anyway, I’ve spent the past couple of days trying to come up a service for him before the interment at Arlington, but-” he sighed in frustration, “-I have no idea what to do. It’s supposed to be for family and friends to say their goodbyes. Besides me, and you, there isn’t anyone else. At least not anyone that I know how to get in touch with.”
Nancy studied him carefully for a minute, her features transitioning from sympathy to something close to anger. “What’s bothering you, Dave? The fact that you missed the opportunity to know John or the fear that it will reflect poorly on you with your business acquaintances?”
“That’s uncalled for.”
Her brows arched. “Is it? He was your brother, David, and you didn’t know anything about him. You never did.”
“Oh, like you did.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did,” she snapped. “I was a member of this family for a long time, and I can assure you John was a true Sheppard - completely incapable of voicing his feelings, unwilling to open himself to others, hiding behind a quick wit and a winning smile. But if you took the time, you could see him. John had his tells, and I learned them - something you and Patrick never bothered to do.”
“Don’t bring Dad into this.”
Nancy stood, took a couple of steps, and turned to face him. “You know that I loved your father, but he was a hard man, completely implacable when it came to John. I could tell when they’d had words. John would be agitated, restless, his eyes stormy and his back stiff.”
“He did everything he could to defy Dad.”
She shook her head sadly. “The only thing he ever wanted was for your father to love him for himself.”
Dave’s jaw set in a hard line. “So, it was all Dad’s fault?”
“Of course not. No one was more pigheaded than John. It kil- hurt him deeply to be rejected for not measuring up so he struck back. Nothing I said made any difference. And the chasm grew.”
“I know,” Dave admitted. “I didn’t help any by siding with Dad, but I never understood John. We were just so different.”
Nancy gave a small smile. “You’re more alike than you realize.”
“I’m trying to plan a funeral for a stranger. The Air Force asked if I wanted any certain hymns played or photos displayed. I don’t have the first idea where any photos are. He’s my brother, and the last picture I have of him is your wedding photo. And I picked ‘Amazing Grace’ because that’s the hymn I hear on television shows. How sad is that?”
“David-”
“You were right, you know. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t know my brother, mostly because it will affect my business dealings. I’m supposed to be good with details. How do you explain that you don’t know who your brother was?” He slumped in his chair. “Can you tell me anything?”
She retook her seat, toying with a button on the arm of the sofa. “Not much more than I already have. John loved going fast, any kind of sport, logic puzzles - he always came up with the most outlandish answers,” she laughed. “His job was incredibly dangerous, which you know. It always was. I didn’t know where he was most of the time.”
Dave met her eye, brows pulled to a V. “How could you not know? Weren’t you stationed with him?”
“He was Special Ops. He’d leave in the middle of the night. He might be gone for a few hours or several days. He came home a couple of times with injuries he wouldn’t explain, and he never, ever talked about where he’d been or what he’d been doing. But I could see it occasionally in his eyes. They would go flat and cold during a news story on a bombing in the Middle East or Asia.”
“John? I never knew….”
“You never bothered to find out. Sometimes I think he accepted those missions as a way to prove himself to you and Patrick even though he knew you’d never find out.” She leaned back, biting her lip. “I’m not sure what he was doing after Antarctica. I tried checking into it when he was here a few months back, but I was shut out immediately.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have access, in theory, to almost every major operation in the works. Whatever John was doing, it was far above my clearance level and very important.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Dave asked quietly.
“No. I tried to do a little digging, but the walls slammed into place again. If I keep pushing….”
“Don’t lose your job over this, Nancy. I pushed, too. I started a few months before Dad died, trying to find out where John was, hoping to convince him to make amends. I called every contact I have - business, military, you name it. Nothing. The only thing I could do was keep leaving messages at Peterson. You see how well that worked.”
“John was as stubborn as the rest of you. I know he regretted it.”
“Told you that, did he?”
“His eyes did.” Nancy glanced at her watch. “I should get going.” She stood, car keys in hand. “If you need anything, Dave, please call me. And let me know what you decide about a funeral. I’ll be there.”
Dave walked her out, enduring one last hug. He closed the door behind her, shaking his head slightly. “John,” he muttered, “why did you let her go? She was the best thing that ever happened to you.”
He considered that remark as he wandered back to the study, attempting to read the notes from his earlier conversation. He dropped the legal pad in disgust, leaning back in the chair. If Nancy was right, the last few years of John’s life had been filled with purpose. He wondered what else John had found.
The grandfather clock struck the hour, echoing through the house. Dave turned in his chair to stare out the window. This was a house - a big, empty one - not a home. It was a combination art gallery and museum, not a place filled with happy memories and loving people. Maybe John had found a home as well. Trying to not be envious, Dave picked up the pad again then tossed it back, making a decision. No private funeral. He wouldn’t embarrass himself by trying to give a eulogy for a stranger. They would have the military pomp and circumstance and be done with it. He headed to the bar and pulled out a fresh bottle of Scotch as the clock ticked in the background.
xxx
“He’s your ex-husband, for God’s sake! It was bad enough you wanted to go to your former father-in-law’s funeral, but this is ridiculous. People are going to talk, you know.”
Nancy froze, earring in hand, as she stared at Grant’s reflection in the vanity mirror. Tall, handsome with expensive tastes and a brilliant mind, he was a good match for her. But sometimes he could be a complete asshole.
Jaw tightening, she turned slowly to face him. “This is not about him being my ex-husband. This is about respect, respect for his father who loved me like his own. And respect for John. He was a hero, damn it, and deserves to be treated like one. He doesn’t have much family and few friends. Now, I’m sorry if you don’t understand that, but I’m going.”
His eyes narrowed as his arms folded over his chest. “Then I guess I’ll see you when you get back.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.
Nancy blew out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and finished dressing in the same black dress she’d worn to Patrick’s funeral. She smoothed her hair, grabbed her purse, and left. She’d offered to ride with Dave in the family limo, but he’d politely declined, saying it might give the wrong impression. She huffed in irritation at men in general as she climbed in her Tahoe and headed to the cemetery, wondering what the fixation was with worrying about what other people would think.
Following the instructions she’d been given, she parked and made her way toward the surprisingly large gathering in the distance. The sun was warm, and a light breeze blew. Nancy chuckled, toying with the idea that John had somehow engineered it that way. This kind of weather was perfect for either golf or flying.
She paused when she reached a large oak, pulling off a shoe to shake out a pebble. A stirring alerted her to people nearby.
“-dead. It was a goddamn solar flare that did this,” a piercing voice insisted. “It took me three weeks to figure out what happened and the Air Force three days to declare him KIA. It’s not right.”
“You said that already,” a deep voice rumbled. “Can you fix it?”
“No,” he sounded mournful, deflated. “Sam and I have analyzed it into oblivion. We don’t have any way to predict a flare period, much less the one we would need to fix this.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“I’m a genius, damn it. I should be able to figure this out. I should be… doing something.”
“Like what? You already said it couldn’t be fixed.”
“It can’t. I know it can’t, but this still feels like a giant waste of time.”
“Do you want to explain to Teyla when we find her how you were too busy to honor Sheppard’s life?”
“Ahhh… no. But who’s looking for Teyla while we’re here? You know what Sheppard would say about that.”
“Lorne and his team are looking. Carter said the upgrades to the Odyssey would get us back in half the time. We’ll find her.”
Nancy peered around the tree, surprised to find the man John had introduced her to at Patrick’s funeral talking to a shorter man with a red face. She’d barely moved, but the bigger man - whose name she couldn’t remember - whipped around in her direction, his right hand fumbling at his thigh. Soldier. The smaller man tensed and followed his gaze. Not a soldier but a man with some military training.
Chagrined, she stepped forward. “Hi. Do you remember me?”
The big man relaxed a bit and shook her hand. “Sure. You’re Nancy, Sheppard’s wife.”
“His what?” the smaller man yelped.
She smiled in spite of herself. “His ex-wife. Nancy Reardon.” She offered her hand.
He took her hand. “Dr. Rodney McKay.”
Nancy didn’t miss the hurt that crossed his face or the way his eyes cut accusingly to the bigger man who shrugged. They were dressed in dark suits, McKay’s the more traditional of the two, and looked very uncomfortable. She glanced at the big man apologetically. “I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Ronon.”
“And you worked with John?”
“Um, yeah. Civilian… contractor.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “That story might work with some people, but I lived with John for years. I know what military training looks like.”
McKay cleared his throat. “We aren’t in the military. We really are civilians.”
“Oh, I believe you are, Doctor.” She grinned at his insulted expression. “I work for Homeland Security. I understand covert. I’m not asking for you to tell your secrets, gentlemen.” The amusement drained away. “Were you his friends?”
Ronon looked her straight in the eye. “We were his team.”
“I see.” She did. She had lived with John through the deaths of Dex and Mitch. Nothing was stronger than the bond of team. While she empathized with the loss Ronon and McKay must feel, deep inside she was relieved that John wouldn’t have to suffer through the loss of another team.
“We should probably, you know….” McKay gestured vaguely toward the flag-draped coffin.
“Of course.” Nancy followed them to the gathered crowd.
On one side of the casket stood Dave and a dozen men and women who could only be colleagues based on their demeanor. An honor guard stood at the foot of the coffin while a chaplain stood at the head, and a rifle team waited in the distance. She moved to stand next to McKay and Ronon. Next to them stood three generals, a colonel, a man bigger than Ronon and wearing a fedora, a smaller man with glasses, and a dark haired woman. Various other military and civilian personnel stood behind them.
The service was quiet and respectful. Nancy had stood by John’s side at enough of these to imagine him here, at attention in his dress blues, his eyes belying the resolute expression he wore, honoring the one who had given his life for the others. But she still marveled as they read off his list of medals, some which she’d never heard of. McKay whispered occasionally to Ronon, too low for her to hear, but sounding like explanations especially before the rifle salute. The honor guard crisply folded the flag and presented it to Dave who had watched the proceeding expressionlessly.
When taps began playing, she risked a glance at the two men beside her. Ronon stared at the ground, jaw clenched and throat moving convulsively. McKay gazed into the distance, trembling slightly, heedless of the tears that tracked down his face.
Suddenly McKay’s shoulders slumped as his chin dropped to his chest. “Shit,” he breathed. “He’s really not coming back.”
Ronon gripped the back of McKay’s neck and squeezed gently. “No,” he answered hoarsely.
Nancy’s eyes drifted across to Dave. She could see the emptiness in his eyes even from this distance. She moved toward him as the service ended and people began to mill about. He shifted uncomfortably, switching the flag from one hand to another, but plastering on his best smile as he shook hands with his acquaintances.
Dave was staring toward the casket when she reached him. “How are you doing?” Nancy asked.
He startled at her words, his features stormy. “Who the hell do they think they are?” he hissed.
Jealousy flashed on his face, and she followed his line of sight. Not the casket. The people who had been standing near her earlier were surrounding Ronon and McKay, offering soft words of condolence and sympathetic touches. The two men nodded, shook hands, and looked like they were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.
“His friends.”
“And I’m his brother. Half the Air Force brass is here, and they act like I don’t exist.”
“It’s hardly half the Air Force command structure, David. Besides, they know each other. Those men worked with John.”
“Right. Look at them. They really look like people the Air Force would hire. Especially the big one.”
“Feeling awfully judgmental today, aren’t you?”
“It’s just-”
“Don’t make excuses. They don’t look like the kind of people you think should be defending this country.
“No, they don’t.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you know about them?”
“Enough to know that they worked closely with John.”
Dave stared hard at her then backed down. “Fine.” He glanced around, but no one was near them. Emotion flickered on his face, and he sagged as if punched in the gut. Smoothing a hand over the folded flag, he whispered, “I feel like a fraud having this.”
He straightened quickly as the Air Force officers approached. Putting on the appropriate mournful expression, he accepted their condolences with quiet thanks. Ronon and McKay came last.
Ronon held out his hand. “I’m Ronon. We met at your father’s funeral.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Sorry for what happened. Sheppard was a good man, finest commander I ever had.”
“Thank you,” Dave said. “Did you know him well?”
The corner of Ronon’s mouth tugged upward. “As well as anyone knew him, I guess.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” McKay muttered, sticking out his hand. “Dr. Rodney McKay. I’m, uh, I’m-” He sniffed and glanced away as he cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“You worked with John as well?”
McKay snorted. “’Slaved for’ might be closer. He always wanted the impossible and wouldn’t accept no for an answer. And he was so damn positive all the time. Well, except for that time when- Ow!” His eyes widened with shock then sorrow as he rubbed his ear and stared at Ronon. “Don’t do that,” McKay said quietly.
Ronon arched a brow at him. “Don’t give me a reason.”
Nancy hid a smile. How many times had she seen John thump Mitch or Dex on the ear like that? She made a quick reevaluation. Dave might be John’s blood, but McKay and Ronon were his brothers.
The man with the glasses who had introduced himself as Daniel Something walked up, speaking softly to McKay who nodded. “If you’ll excuse us, please.” They stepped away, conversing with the group that stood with Daniel.
Dave’s eyes stayed on them. “I never really knew him at all, did I?”
She rubbed her hand down his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up over things you can’t change.”
He hugged the flag to his chest, eyes downcast. “How can I not? Did you hear them? And not just their words - the way they said it, like they’ve lost their best friend.”
“That’s because they have.”
“I know it. That’s the problem. I should feel that way, and I don’t. He was my baby brother, Nancy. I didn’t know he had a best friend, much less two. What else about him don’t I know? I mean besides the top secret stuff. Who else is mourning him? Was there someone special in his life? Did he still enjoy sports? Did he ever learn to play the guitar?” His eyes flickered toward the two men one last time. “Did they watch him die?”
“I don’t know, Dave,” she whispered. “But if they are any indication, it would seem that the last few years of John’s life must have been good ones. Try to hold onto that.”
Dave smiled mirthlessly. “His best years were the ones without me and Dad. That about sums it up, doesn’t it?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” He ran a hand over the flag one last time. “At least I have something to remember him by.” Head down, he made his way to the limo and climbed in. Alone.
Nancy dabbed at tears as she headed to her car, grieved by the shards of a family that could never be put back together. She glanced back one last time, watching as this time McKay placed a hand on Ronon’s shoulder when they walked away, and she smiled through her tears, content to know that at least John had finally found the family and acceptance he’d always longed for.
The end.
Author:
wildcat88
Rating: PG
Characters: David Sheppard, Nancy, Rodney, Ronon, cameos by various others
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Outcast and The Last Man
Request: prompt by
karri_kln1671
Summary: Nancy and David learn that John has been declared KIA.
A/N: Thanks to
kristen999 for the lightening fast beta. All mistakes mine.
Dave slowly shifted the Esplanade into park and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel. A six a.m. breakfast to discuss the next rate case followed by an eight hour board meeting then dinner and drinks with the majority stockholder of a large construction company that would soon be for sale. He missed Dad - his analytical mind, his keen business sense, his unique perspective. Giving himself a mental shake, Dave climbed from the SUV, walked past the Ferrari, the Bentley, and the BMW, pressed the garage door button, and trudged into the house. After disarming the burglar alarm, he peeled off his coat and slung it over a barstool, dropping his tie on top of it, then poured two fingers of Scotch and sank into his favorite chair.
Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes and let the alcohol burn its way down. Just as the muscles in his shoulders began to unwind, the doorbell rang. With a heavy sigh, Dave climbed to his feet and made his way through the house, reminding himself once again that it was time to downsize. A glimpse through the peephole showed a man, his face shadowed, wearing Air Force dress blues. Dave’s hands moved before his brain could stop them, jerking the door open.
“John?”
The man stepped forward. “David Sheppard?”
Dave went numb as he focused on the man’s face. Blood rushed in his ears, and he blinked rapidly, waiting for the face to resolve into John’s. When it didn’t, he answered with a hoarse, “Yes?”
“I’m General Jack O’Neill. May I come in?”
His legs wouldn’t move, leaving him staring at the older man uncomprehendingly. “What?”
O’Neill smiled sympathetically. “I only need a few minutes of your time. If I may.” He gestured vaguely toward the house.
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.” Dave moved back, allowing O’Neill to enter. “Can I get you something to drink? Scotch? Bourbon?”
The general shook his head. “No, thank you. Um, can we sit down?”
“It’s John, isn’t it?”
“Let’s sit.” O’Neill walked through the foyer past the study, the Renoir, the Monet, and the dining room that sat twenty to the den and took a seat on the divan, waiting patiently until Dave sat across from him. “Mr. Sheppard, it is my sad duty to inform you that your brother, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard has been declared Killed in Action. He-”
“’Declared?’” Dave repeated. “Are you telling me he might still be alive?”
O’Neill leaned forward intently. “I’m telling you that your brother is never coming home.”
“But-”
“Look, I know this is hard to accept, and I am very sorry for your loss, but Shep- John is gone. You have the deepest sympathies of myself and the entire United States Air Force. Your brother was a hero, Mr. Sheppard. He saved more lives than I can count, including mine, and he died doing his duty. We are arranging a military funeral at Arlington National Cemetery.”
“We have a family plot.”
O’Neill sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “We will honor your wishes, of course, but I would like to point out that your brother left a will….”
Dave’s head dropped. Even in death, John was defiant. “What did it say?”
“He left almost everything to you, but he requested to be buried at Arlington. Seems he has friends there.”
He stared at O’Neill, trying to process what the man was saying while suddenly realizing how little he knew about his brother. And now it was too late.
“Mr. Sheppard?”
Dave startled then shook his head ruefully. “Sorry. Long day.”
The general handed him a card. “Call me if you need anything. Someone from my office will be contacting you about details. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Did he suffer?”
The general hesitated, his drifting eyes signaling his search for an unclassified answer. “No. From the little we understand it was instantaneous.” O’Neill gripped Dave’s shoulder. “Do you have someone to be with you?”
Dave shook his head, staring at his hands, the only sound in the house the ticking of the grandfather clock. “No,” he answered. “I don’t have anyone.”
xxx
Nancy pulled off a shoe, rubbing the arch of her foot. Three inch heels were not made for the long walk to Capitol Hill especially not twice in the same day. But the intel was solid, and the committee had greenlighted the operation. She finished her report and emailed it to her boss. Her laptop was powering down when her cell rang. Grant.
“Hi, honey.”
“Still at the office?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I was just shutting down. Are you already home?”
“No, unfortunately,” he sighed. “My flight has been canceled. Something about storms in the mid-west. There are no more flights leaving LA tonight.”
Her office line rang. Glancing at the readout, she let it go to voicemail. Anders in communications. He could wait. “I hate to hear that, Grant, but I know how it is. We’re scheduled for dinner tomorrow night with Anita and Sumir. Do I need to postpone?”
“God, I hope not. I should be home long before then.” His voice deepened, roughened. “I have something for you.”
Nancy giggled. “I bet you do. Call me tomorrow when you have flight details.”
“I will. Now, go home.”
“I’m going! Goodnight, Grant. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Goodnight.”
She tucked her Blackberry back in her purse, stuffed her laptop in its case, and headed for the door only to stop as the message light on her office phone blinked insistently. Sighing, she set her belongings in a visitor chair and checked her voicemail.
“Hey, Nance. Marlon Anders here. Do you remember a few months ago when you asked for information on a… Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard? We had some flash traffic on him today. Seems the Air Force has pronounced him KIA. Hope that helps.”
John? Dead? Nancy dropped into her desk chair as her heart squeezed painfully. Memories of her life with John flashed in her mind - that wicked smile, his beautiful eyes that always said what he couldn’t vocalize, features that could harden into a frightening mask or soften into the man she fell in love with. And she had loved him, still did in some ways. Grant was… safe, responsible, open - the kind of man she needed. She didn’t miss the secrets, but sometimes when she was being completely honest, she missed the element of danger that had surrounded John. And had apparently killed him.
Suddenly thankful Grant wasn’t coming home, Nancy grabbed her things and hurried to her car. She drove for a while, allowing her thoughts to roam freely. She wasn’t surprised when she found herself at the park, trailing her hand over the back of the bench where they’d sat, where John had asked for her help. Taking a seat, she lifted her face to the sky, the late night breeze stirring her hair as the moon reflected off the pond. And slowly, the tears fell.
xxx
Dave hung up the phone and stared at the legal pad filled with scribbled notes. Two funerals in six months. Dad’s had been easy, but John’s…. He had no idea how to plan a memorial service for a man he didn’t know. Pushing away from the antique desk, he headed to the wet bar and reached for the Scotch, disappointed to find the bottle empty. Had it only been two days since it was half full? His reflection in the mirrored shelves mocked him. For a man who prided himself in his appearance, he was a wreck - hair uncombed, the famous Sheppard five o’clock shadow out of control, his shirt wrinkled. He placed the empty container in the trash, choosing a chilled bottle of Evian instead. His thirst quenched, he went upstairs for a shower and a shave. He was tucking in his shirt, towel wrapped around his neck, when the doorbell chimed.
Hurrying downstairs, he was surprised to find his ex-sister-in-law on the front step. Then again, rumor had it she worked at Homeland Security. Maybe she knew something.
Dave opened the door with a warm smile. “Hello, Nancy. Good to see you.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she stepped inside and hugged him. He patted her shoulder awkwardly then politely extricated himself from her grasp.
“I take it you’ve heard about John.”
“Oh, Dave, I’m so sorry. First your dad and now John. It’s not fair.”
He gestured for her to enter. “Come on in.”
She followed him through the house to the family room, declining his offer for a drink as she took a seat on the leather sofa. “How are you doing?” she asked.
Dave huffed a laugh. “I’m fine.” At her sympathetic expression, he said, “No, really, I am. At first it was a shock. John has… had a way of making you believe everything would always be all right, almost like he was charmed. I- I never thought…. Anyway, I’ve spent the past couple of days trying to come up a service for him before the interment at Arlington, but-” he sighed in frustration, “-I have no idea what to do. It’s supposed to be for family and friends to say their goodbyes. Besides me, and you, there isn’t anyone else. At least not anyone that I know how to get in touch with.”
Nancy studied him carefully for a minute, her features transitioning from sympathy to something close to anger. “What’s bothering you, Dave? The fact that you missed the opportunity to know John or the fear that it will reflect poorly on you with your business acquaintances?”
“That’s uncalled for.”
Her brows arched. “Is it? He was your brother, David, and you didn’t know anything about him. You never did.”
“Oh, like you did.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did,” she snapped. “I was a member of this family for a long time, and I can assure you John was a true Sheppard - completely incapable of voicing his feelings, unwilling to open himself to others, hiding behind a quick wit and a winning smile. But if you took the time, you could see him. John had his tells, and I learned them - something you and Patrick never bothered to do.”
“Don’t bring Dad into this.”
Nancy stood, took a couple of steps, and turned to face him. “You know that I loved your father, but he was a hard man, completely implacable when it came to John. I could tell when they’d had words. John would be agitated, restless, his eyes stormy and his back stiff.”
“He did everything he could to defy Dad.”
She shook her head sadly. “The only thing he ever wanted was for your father to love him for himself.”
Dave’s jaw set in a hard line. “So, it was all Dad’s fault?”
“Of course not. No one was more pigheaded than John. It kil- hurt him deeply to be rejected for not measuring up so he struck back. Nothing I said made any difference. And the chasm grew.”
“I know,” Dave admitted. “I didn’t help any by siding with Dad, but I never understood John. We were just so different.”
Nancy gave a small smile. “You’re more alike than you realize.”
“I’m trying to plan a funeral for a stranger. The Air Force asked if I wanted any certain hymns played or photos displayed. I don’t have the first idea where any photos are. He’s my brother, and the last picture I have of him is your wedding photo. And I picked ‘Amazing Grace’ because that’s the hymn I hear on television shows. How sad is that?”
“David-”
“You were right, you know. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t know my brother, mostly because it will affect my business dealings. I’m supposed to be good with details. How do you explain that you don’t know who your brother was?” He slumped in his chair. “Can you tell me anything?”
She retook her seat, toying with a button on the arm of the sofa. “Not much more than I already have. John loved going fast, any kind of sport, logic puzzles - he always came up with the most outlandish answers,” she laughed. “His job was incredibly dangerous, which you know. It always was. I didn’t know where he was most of the time.”
Dave met her eye, brows pulled to a V. “How could you not know? Weren’t you stationed with him?”
“He was Special Ops. He’d leave in the middle of the night. He might be gone for a few hours or several days. He came home a couple of times with injuries he wouldn’t explain, and he never, ever talked about where he’d been or what he’d been doing. But I could see it occasionally in his eyes. They would go flat and cold during a news story on a bombing in the Middle East or Asia.”
“John? I never knew….”
“You never bothered to find out. Sometimes I think he accepted those missions as a way to prove himself to you and Patrick even though he knew you’d never find out.” She leaned back, biting her lip. “I’m not sure what he was doing after Antarctica. I tried checking into it when he was here a few months back, but I was shut out immediately.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have access, in theory, to almost every major operation in the works. Whatever John was doing, it was far above my clearance level and very important.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Dave asked quietly.
“No. I tried to do a little digging, but the walls slammed into place again. If I keep pushing….”
“Don’t lose your job over this, Nancy. I pushed, too. I started a few months before Dad died, trying to find out where John was, hoping to convince him to make amends. I called every contact I have - business, military, you name it. Nothing. The only thing I could do was keep leaving messages at Peterson. You see how well that worked.”
“John was as stubborn as the rest of you. I know he regretted it.”
“Told you that, did he?”
“His eyes did.” Nancy glanced at her watch. “I should get going.” She stood, car keys in hand. “If you need anything, Dave, please call me. And let me know what you decide about a funeral. I’ll be there.”
Dave walked her out, enduring one last hug. He closed the door behind her, shaking his head slightly. “John,” he muttered, “why did you let her go? She was the best thing that ever happened to you.”
He considered that remark as he wandered back to the study, attempting to read the notes from his earlier conversation. He dropped the legal pad in disgust, leaning back in the chair. If Nancy was right, the last few years of John’s life had been filled with purpose. He wondered what else John had found.
The grandfather clock struck the hour, echoing through the house. Dave turned in his chair to stare out the window. This was a house - a big, empty one - not a home. It was a combination art gallery and museum, not a place filled with happy memories and loving people. Maybe John had found a home as well. Trying to not be envious, Dave picked up the pad again then tossed it back, making a decision. No private funeral. He wouldn’t embarrass himself by trying to give a eulogy for a stranger. They would have the military pomp and circumstance and be done with it. He headed to the bar and pulled out a fresh bottle of Scotch as the clock ticked in the background.
xxx
“He’s your ex-husband, for God’s sake! It was bad enough you wanted to go to your former father-in-law’s funeral, but this is ridiculous. People are going to talk, you know.”
Nancy froze, earring in hand, as she stared at Grant’s reflection in the vanity mirror. Tall, handsome with expensive tastes and a brilliant mind, he was a good match for her. But sometimes he could be a complete asshole.
Jaw tightening, she turned slowly to face him. “This is not about him being my ex-husband. This is about respect, respect for his father who loved me like his own. And respect for John. He was a hero, damn it, and deserves to be treated like one. He doesn’t have much family and few friends. Now, I’m sorry if you don’t understand that, but I’m going.”
His eyes narrowed as his arms folded over his chest. “Then I guess I’ll see you when you get back.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.
Nancy blew out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding and finished dressing in the same black dress she’d worn to Patrick’s funeral. She smoothed her hair, grabbed her purse, and left. She’d offered to ride with Dave in the family limo, but he’d politely declined, saying it might give the wrong impression. She huffed in irritation at men in general as she climbed in her Tahoe and headed to the cemetery, wondering what the fixation was with worrying about what other people would think.
Following the instructions she’d been given, she parked and made her way toward the surprisingly large gathering in the distance. The sun was warm, and a light breeze blew. Nancy chuckled, toying with the idea that John had somehow engineered it that way. This kind of weather was perfect for either golf or flying.
She paused when she reached a large oak, pulling off a shoe to shake out a pebble. A stirring alerted her to people nearby.
“-dead. It was a goddamn solar flare that did this,” a piercing voice insisted. “It took me three weeks to figure out what happened and the Air Force three days to declare him KIA. It’s not right.”
“You said that already,” a deep voice rumbled. “Can you fix it?”
“No,” he sounded mournful, deflated. “Sam and I have analyzed it into oblivion. We don’t have any way to predict a flare period, much less the one we would need to fix this.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“I’m a genius, damn it. I should be able to figure this out. I should be… doing something.”
“Like what? You already said it couldn’t be fixed.”
“It can’t. I know it can’t, but this still feels like a giant waste of time.”
“Do you want to explain to Teyla when we find her how you were too busy to honor Sheppard’s life?”
“Ahhh… no. But who’s looking for Teyla while we’re here? You know what Sheppard would say about that.”
“Lorne and his team are looking. Carter said the upgrades to the Odyssey would get us back in half the time. We’ll find her.”
Nancy peered around the tree, surprised to find the man John had introduced her to at Patrick’s funeral talking to a shorter man with a red face. She’d barely moved, but the bigger man - whose name she couldn’t remember - whipped around in her direction, his right hand fumbling at his thigh. Soldier. The smaller man tensed and followed his gaze. Not a soldier but a man with some military training.
Chagrined, she stepped forward. “Hi. Do you remember me?”
The big man relaxed a bit and shook her hand. “Sure. You’re Nancy, Sheppard’s wife.”
“His what?” the smaller man yelped.
She smiled in spite of herself. “His ex-wife. Nancy Reardon.” She offered her hand.
He took her hand. “Dr. Rodney McKay.”
Nancy didn’t miss the hurt that crossed his face or the way his eyes cut accusingly to the bigger man who shrugged. They were dressed in dark suits, McKay’s the more traditional of the two, and looked very uncomfortable. She glanced at the big man apologetically. “I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Ronon.”
“And you worked with John?”
“Um, yeah. Civilian… contractor.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “That story might work with some people, but I lived with John for years. I know what military training looks like.”
McKay cleared his throat. “We aren’t in the military. We really are civilians.”
“Oh, I believe you are, Doctor.” She grinned at his insulted expression. “I work for Homeland Security. I understand covert. I’m not asking for you to tell your secrets, gentlemen.” The amusement drained away. “Were you his friends?”
Ronon looked her straight in the eye. “We were his team.”
“I see.” She did. She had lived with John through the deaths of Dex and Mitch. Nothing was stronger than the bond of team. While she empathized with the loss Ronon and McKay must feel, deep inside she was relieved that John wouldn’t have to suffer through the loss of another team.
“We should probably, you know….” McKay gestured vaguely toward the flag-draped coffin.
“Of course.” Nancy followed them to the gathered crowd.
On one side of the casket stood Dave and a dozen men and women who could only be colleagues based on their demeanor. An honor guard stood at the foot of the coffin while a chaplain stood at the head, and a rifle team waited in the distance. She moved to stand next to McKay and Ronon. Next to them stood three generals, a colonel, a man bigger than Ronon and wearing a fedora, a smaller man with glasses, and a dark haired woman. Various other military and civilian personnel stood behind them.
The service was quiet and respectful. Nancy had stood by John’s side at enough of these to imagine him here, at attention in his dress blues, his eyes belying the resolute expression he wore, honoring the one who had given his life for the others. But she still marveled as they read off his list of medals, some which she’d never heard of. McKay whispered occasionally to Ronon, too low for her to hear, but sounding like explanations especially before the rifle salute. The honor guard crisply folded the flag and presented it to Dave who had watched the proceeding expressionlessly.
When taps began playing, she risked a glance at the two men beside her. Ronon stared at the ground, jaw clenched and throat moving convulsively. McKay gazed into the distance, trembling slightly, heedless of the tears that tracked down his face.
Suddenly McKay’s shoulders slumped as his chin dropped to his chest. “Shit,” he breathed. “He’s really not coming back.”
Ronon gripped the back of McKay’s neck and squeezed gently. “No,” he answered hoarsely.
Nancy’s eyes drifted across to Dave. She could see the emptiness in his eyes even from this distance. She moved toward him as the service ended and people began to mill about. He shifted uncomfortably, switching the flag from one hand to another, but plastering on his best smile as he shook hands with his acquaintances.
Dave was staring toward the casket when she reached him. “How are you doing?” Nancy asked.
He startled at her words, his features stormy. “Who the hell do they think they are?” he hissed.
Jealousy flashed on his face, and she followed his line of sight. Not the casket. The people who had been standing near her earlier were surrounding Ronon and McKay, offering soft words of condolence and sympathetic touches. The two men nodded, shook hands, and looked like they were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.
“His friends.”
“And I’m his brother. Half the Air Force brass is here, and they act like I don’t exist.”
“It’s hardly half the Air Force command structure, David. Besides, they know each other. Those men worked with John.”
“Right. Look at them. They really look like people the Air Force would hire. Especially the big one.”
“Feeling awfully judgmental today, aren’t you?”
“It’s just-”
“Don’t make excuses. They don’t look like the kind of people you think should be defending this country.
“No, they don’t.” His eyes narrowed. “What do you know about them?”
“Enough to know that they worked closely with John.”
Dave stared hard at her then backed down. “Fine.” He glanced around, but no one was near them. Emotion flickered on his face, and he sagged as if punched in the gut. Smoothing a hand over the folded flag, he whispered, “I feel like a fraud having this.”
He straightened quickly as the Air Force officers approached. Putting on the appropriate mournful expression, he accepted their condolences with quiet thanks. Ronon and McKay came last.
Ronon held out his hand. “I’m Ronon. We met at your father’s funeral.
“Yes, I remember.”
“Sorry for what happened. Sheppard was a good man, finest commander I ever had.”
“Thank you,” Dave said. “Did you know him well?”
The corner of Ronon’s mouth tugged upward. “As well as anyone knew him, I guess.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” McKay muttered, sticking out his hand. “Dr. Rodney McKay. I’m, uh, I’m-” He sniffed and glanced away as he cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“You worked with John as well?”
McKay snorted. “’Slaved for’ might be closer. He always wanted the impossible and wouldn’t accept no for an answer. And he was so damn positive all the time. Well, except for that time when- Ow!” His eyes widened with shock then sorrow as he rubbed his ear and stared at Ronon. “Don’t do that,” McKay said quietly.
Ronon arched a brow at him. “Don’t give me a reason.”
Nancy hid a smile. How many times had she seen John thump Mitch or Dex on the ear like that? She made a quick reevaluation. Dave might be John’s blood, but McKay and Ronon were his brothers.
The man with the glasses who had introduced himself as Daniel Something walked up, speaking softly to McKay who nodded. “If you’ll excuse us, please.” They stepped away, conversing with the group that stood with Daniel.
Dave’s eyes stayed on them. “I never really knew him at all, did I?”
She rubbed her hand down his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up over things you can’t change.”
He hugged the flag to his chest, eyes downcast. “How can I not? Did you hear them? And not just their words - the way they said it, like they’ve lost their best friend.”
“That’s because they have.”
“I know it. That’s the problem. I should feel that way, and I don’t. He was my baby brother, Nancy. I didn’t know he had a best friend, much less two. What else about him don’t I know? I mean besides the top secret stuff. Who else is mourning him? Was there someone special in his life? Did he still enjoy sports? Did he ever learn to play the guitar?” His eyes flickered toward the two men one last time. “Did they watch him die?”
“I don’t know, Dave,” she whispered. “But if they are any indication, it would seem that the last few years of John’s life must have been good ones. Try to hold onto that.”
Dave smiled mirthlessly. “His best years were the ones without me and Dad. That about sums it up, doesn’t it?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” He ran a hand over the flag one last time. “At least I have something to remember him by.” Head down, he made his way to the limo and climbed in. Alone.
Nancy dabbed at tears as she headed to her car, grieved by the shards of a family that could never be put back together. She glanced back one last time, watching as this time McKay placed a hand on Ronon’s shoulder when they walked away, and she smiled through her tears, content to know that at least John had finally found the family and acceptance he’d always longed for.
The end.