new SGU fic: Five AU versions of himself that Everett Young met
Title: Five AU versions of himself that Everett Young met
Author: Shenandoah Risu
Rating: PG-13
Content Flags: none
Spoilers: vague ones for Season 2
Characters: Everett Young
Word Count: 666
Summary: The Destiny folks grew quite used to meeting their own equivalents of another time line.
Author's Notes: Written for sg1_five_things.
Disclaimer: I don't own SGU. I wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, Young... Young I'd know what to do with. ;-)
Thanks for reading! Feedback = Love. ;-) Please leave comments here at my LJ.
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Five AU versions of himself that Everett Young met
The closer they got to their destination the weirder things came to be on board the Destiny. Stranger yet was everyone’s ability to adapt to the unusual phenomena that kept popping up here and there, such as invasions of alternate universes. The Destiny folks grew quite used to meeting their own equivalents of another time line.
The first time Everett Young ran into himself was right after breakfast. He was putting his dishes away - and there the other Young was, standing by the door, arms folded, a great deal younger than himself, about the age he was when he first went into flight training, a nonchalant smile on his face.
“We’re getting closer,” young-Young explained. “You’d better get used to this.”
Young raised his eyebrows.
“So that’s what I’ll look like when I’m older,” young-Young drawled. “Well, I guess I could do worse.”
Young blinked a few times, then young-Young saluted him and in an instant he was gone again.
The second time he met himself was a day later, when he was about to go to bed. Turning around he saw another alternate self sitting up naked in his bed, all groggy and sleepy, eyes closed.
“TJ?” the other Young mumbled.
“No, it’s me… you… I guess.”
“Oh god.” Sleepy-Young dropped back into his pillows. “Please tell me this isn’t permanent. We’re getting married today.”
“We?”
“TJ and I,” came the slightly grumpy response.
“Ah.” He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“You’re still together, then? Where you come from?”
“What do you mean, 'still together'? You’re saying you’re not?”
Young shook his head.
“Sucks to be you,” sleepy-Young mumbled and went right back to sleep.
The third time he met another Young was when he stepped onto the Bridge and saw himself wearing jeans, a checkered shirt and a frumpy cardigan, working at a console. They stared at each other for a few long moments. Then the other Young twirled a finger at him: “You’re military here?”
Young nodded.
“Wow,” civilian-Young responded. “I can’t imagine ever doing that.”
Young tilted his head politely. “Likewise,” he countered.
The fourth time he didn’t even recognize himself - the alternate figured things out much faster. The other Young was a woman, looking at him with undisguised interest and appreciation. “Well, I’m rather good-looking as a guy,” she remarked. “Nice to meet you, Colonel.” Young shook the proffered hand and she-Young stepped back and gave both of them a chance to look at the other. She-Young was petite, slender and sinewy, with hazel eyes and long curly dark hair held together in a bun at the back of her head.
And then Young saw the little boy standing next to her.
“This is Carlos, “ she-Young said.
The boy stuck out his hand and Young had to turn away to hide his tears.
The fifth time he almost missed himself. He was passing by the neural interface chair room when he noticed a small movement. Stepping closer to investigate he saw himself sitting in the chair, the electrodes firmly clamped to his temples, and from the looks of it he was much older - white hair, wrinkled skin, sunken cheeks, almost skeletal. He approached with caution and gently placed two fingers against the old Young’s neck. The pulse was slow but strong.
Then old-Young opened his eyes, looked at him and smiled gently. “Hello, Everett,” he said quietly.
“Hi,” Young replied. “What are you doing in that chair?”
“I’m the only one that’s left,” old-Young said. “We’ve arrived. Destiny is downloading the information into my head. I will have a few days to share it with the people at home.”
Young knelt down next to him. “How are you getting back home?”
Old-Young smiled again.
“The same way the others did. Be well, Everett.”
And as he watched old-Young slowly disappeared in a brightly glowing white light.
The chair was empty once again.
Everett Young couldn’t get the chill out of his bones for several days after that.