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Title: My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This - Part 3/5
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: 1,761
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Summary: The offer of a clean slate is great but the commute is a bitch
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
“You like Johnny Cash?”
John looks up from his desk and sees Winchester, the older one, standing in his doorway. “Where’s your escort?” John asks.
“Ditched him,” Dean says and when John opens his mouth, eyes flashing, Dean grins and holds up his hands. “Sorry, joke. He’s outside with Sam. They’re arguing about who’s taller.” Dean takes a step inside the room and then hesitates, like he’s just realised that he wasn’t actually invited.
“Yeah, I do,” John says, answering Dean’s first question. He nods slightly and Dean takes that for all the invitation he’s going to get, stepping deeper into the room. There really isn’t much to it. John is a simple guy and a bed, a desk and a big poster of Cash is all he really needs. Teyla keeps sneaking in and hanging drapes and other Athosian craftwork and he keeps taking them down. It’s become a bit of a game.
“My dad…” Dean starts and then hesitates again and John sets his book aside. This is a Dean he hasn’t seen yet. The kid has been fairly bristling with bravado each time John runs into him and he’s wondering if maybe he would’ve given Dean a bit more of a chance if this was how he had first seen him, nervous and a little lost. John knows it’s possible that this is all part of the act, an Aw shucks addition to his repertoire but he doesn’t think so.
“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” John says, sliding his legs off his bed and standing. He’s not sure why Dean brings out the hardass in him and he doesn’t really like it particularly. He never wanted to be that guy.
“I’d say that’s putting it mildly,” Dean says with a shrug and he’s not looking at John. He’s looking at the bookshelves and the small table in the middle of the room and the poster but not at John. He wants something John realises.
He’s pretty sure he knows what.
“Your brother, Sam?” John starts and sees Dean tense, every line in his body going hard. “I know you’re worried.”
“I’m fucking terrified,” Dean blurts and John blinks at him. Dean has his fists clenched and John can see he’s actually shaking. “This wasn’t worth it. They used me to get him to agree and it… wasn’t worth it.”
“Want to tell me what happened?” John offers and Dean nods, still stiff but looking a little relieved.
000
“Do I look like a babysitter?”
Dean wants to protest but Rodney is looking thunderous and Dean can’t quite put his finger on why he doesn’t want to push him into furious. Mostly he’s just known guys like Rodney before, jello to the casual observer but with a spine of pure steel if he needs it. Dean knows bluster and he knows when someone has a certain something to back the bluster up.
“Teyla has taken Sam for meditation and I’m scheduled to run drills with the marines. Sheppard said it would be okay,” Ronon says and Dean looks up and back at his tall shadow. The guy is gruff, but a kind of gruff Dean can relate to. It was Ronon who had said, “Talk to Sheppard rather than just butting heads, you’ll get further.”
“Meditation?” Rodney snorts and Dean smirks. “Oh la di da, is she taking him for a tea party after?”
“I notice you never make fun of the meditation when she’s within earshot,” Ronon observes.
“Yes, well, I like my balls attached, thanks,” Rodney dismisses and then narrows his eyes at Ronon. Dean is sensing an interesting dynamic between the two men. “Well, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Yep, thanks McKay.” Ronon nods and then turns on his heel, retreating from Rodney’s labs. Rodney seems to forget Dean exists as soon as Ronon has left the room. He goes back to the pile of junk on his desk, muttering about incompetents and donuts.
“Watcha doin?” Dean asks, because one thing he won’t accept is being ignored. He’s the champion of getting someone who is trying to ignore him to pay attention. He’s had Sam to practice on for years.
“No,” Rodney snaps and Dean’s mouth drops open.
“No, what?”
“No questions. No talking, no interacting, just no,” Rodney snaps, stabbing a finger in the direction of another work station. “Park it there and be silent.”
“I could, or I can wander the halls and touch things. For some reason I get the feeling you guys don’t like that.” Dean is almost to the door when he hears Rodney let out an explosive breath.
“For the love of… what? What do you want?”
“Tell me what you’re doing. Maybe I can help. I’m good with my hands.” Dean holds up his hands and waggles his fingers to emphasise his point. “I made the EMF meter Sammy and I use on cases from a walkman.”
“Do I even want to know… oh you know what? Never mind. Just come here and hold this,” Rodney barks. Dean is halfway to him when he remembers what happened last time he touched something under Rodney’s direction. Dean halts and backs up a step. Rodney rolls his eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sake, it’s not going to bite you.”
Dean is tentative anyway, only relaxing when he doesn’t get shocked in the first five minutes. He knows Rodney said no talking, but Rodney is a mutterer when he works and Dean has always been a good listener. When Rodney winds down, Dean asks him an inane question or two, seemingly unrelated but Dean is building a picture in his head.
John had explained to Dean about the discovery of Atlantis and the series of misadventures that had led them to wake a sleeping dragon, an enemy the likes of which Earth had never dealt with before. When Dean asked for specifics he got the feeling that John skirted. He wouldn’t elaborate on why he and Sam had been brought to Atlantis but Dean trusted that the people here at least would try to protect them.
What got Dean most worried was that when it came to Sam, he was getting the feeling that there was a faceless government body in the driver’s seat and that body was more than a little desperate.
“I mean, who knows? Maybe he’ll even be able to drive the Hive ship we captured,” Rodney is saying and Dean snaps back to attention.
“I’m sorry, what?” Dean asks.
“I mean, Teyla could but it took a lot out of her and we’re not really sure how her Wraith DNA works anyway. I’ve always been fuzzy on the soft sciences. I think trying to use your brother as a weapon is a bit of a waste and … what?”
“Trying to use Sam for what?” Dean asks, fairly trembling with rage.
“Oh, ah, y’know, I’m not entirely certain about… study! That’s what he’s here for isn’t he? Study!” Rodney blurts, face reddening as Dean stands. Rodney’s radio clicks and he looks relieved as he taps it. “McKay here,” he snaps and then his eyes dart to Dean who just knows.
Dean is running for the room they left Sam in on the way to the labs before Rodney can stop him.
000
The pretty girl with the coffee skin, Teyla, is sitting by Sam’s bedside when Dean arrives. A blonde woman is sitting on the other side with a file in her hands. Dean pauses in the infirmary doorway when he sees how pale Sam is.
“What happened?” he growls. Teyla is looking ashen, her eyes too bright, but it’s the blonde woman who stands to answer him.
“Dean is it? I’m Doctor Heightmeyer. How about we-?”
“What did you do to Sammy?” Dean demands, rounding the bed and closing in on Teyla. She stands her ground, letting Dean grab her shoulders and shake her once.
“Get your hands off her,” Dean hears Ronon snarl from behind him but Teyla looks up and over Dean’s shoulder.
“No, Ronon. It’s fine.” She pulls back to look in Dean’s face, eye to eye. “Sam had what I think was a vision. Did you know your brother was a seer?”
“A… yes, yeah, I knew,” Dean nods, loosening his grip on Teyla’s arms and wincing when he sees color flood back into the white marks he’s left. “I’m sorry, it had been a while and I thought maybe… out here…” Dean lets Teyla steer him into the chair she was sitting in, giving in to the gentle push on his shoulders. He leans forward and touches the back of his hand to Sam’s temple.
The skin is cold to the touch.
“There have been stories told through the generations of people who could see the future. I had never thought I would meet one. It was assumed that only the ancestors had such gifts,” Teyla says, her hand a warm weight on Dean’s arm. “I am afraid this may have been my fault as the purpose of our meditation was to open Sam’s mind.”
“No, it’s… not your fault. He had the freak-o-visions before we came here. Did he tell you what he saw?”
“I’m afraid not. Doctor Beckett says he needs to rest,” Heightmeyer says from the other side of the bed.
“Can I stay here until he wakes up?” Dean asks. “He’s always a little disoriented when he’s like this and there won’t be anything familiar here.”
“Of course,” Heightmeyer nods. Teyla gives Dean’s arm a final squeeze before departing.
000
Elizabeth hears the ‘gate activating and frowns. She stands and skirts her desk, coming out into the main control room. “No one’s due back are they?” she asks as a technician turns to her, face puzzled.
“No Ma’am. Major Gatting’s team shouldn’t be dialling in for another four hours.”
“Something must have happened,” Elizabeth says, knowing that a team coming in early is rarely a good sign. “Try comms.”
“Receiving their IDC but they haven’t responded to hails.”
Elizabeth stares hard at the shield for a moment as if it can give her answers. She remembers the briefing on PG7-989 and how there were magnetic fields that could disrupt radio signal. Something nagged at her, a feeling of wrongwrongwrong. She orders additional marines to the ‘gate room before giving the okay for the proceed signal to be sent.
Something round and metallic rolls through the ‘gate as soon as the shield is dropped and Elizabeth only has time to say, “What-?” when it explodes.
By:
kellifer_ficFandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: 1,761
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Summary: The offer of a clean slate is great but the commute is a bitch
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
“You like Johnny Cash?”
John looks up from his desk and sees Winchester, the older one, standing in his doorway. “Where’s your escort?” John asks.
“Ditched him,” Dean says and when John opens his mouth, eyes flashing, Dean grins and holds up his hands. “Sorry, joke. He’s outside with Sam. They’re arguing about who’s taller.” Dean takes a step inside the room and then hesitates, like he’s just realised that he wasn’t actually invited.
“Yeah, I do,” John says, answering Dean’s first question. He nods slightly and Dean takes that for all the invitation he’s going to get, stepping deeper into the room. There really isn’t much to it. John is a simple guy and a bed, a desk and a big poster of Cash is all he really needs. Teyla keeps sneaking in and hanging drapes and other Athosian craftwork and he keeps taking them down. It’s become a bit of a game.
“My dad…” Dean starts and then hesitates again and John sets his book aside. This is a Dean he hasn’t seen yet. The kid has been fairly bristling with bravado each time John runs into him and he’s wondering if maybe he would’ve given Dean a bit more of a chance if this was how he had first seen him, nervous and a little lost. John knows it’s possible that this is all part of the act, an Aw shucks addition to his repertoire but he doesn’t think so.
“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” John says, sliding his legs off his bed and standing. He’s not sure why Dean brings out the hardass in him and he doesn’t really like it particularly. He never wanted to be that guy.
“I’d say that’s putting it mildly,” Dean says with a shrug and he’s not looking at John. He’s looking at the bookshelves and the small table in the middle of the room and the poster but not at John. He wants something John realises.
He’s pretty sure he knows what.
“Your brother, Sam?” John starts and sees Dean tense, every line in his body going hard. “I know you’re worried.”
“I’m fucking terrified,” Dean blurts and John blinks at him. Dean has his fists clenched and John can see he’s actually shaking. “This wasn’t worth it. They used me to get him to agree and it… wasn’t worth it.”
“Want to tell me what happened?” John offers and Dean nods, still stiff but looking a little relieved.
“Do I look like a babysitter?”
Dean wants to protest but Rodney is looking thunderous and Dean can’t quite put his finger on why he doesn’t want to push him into furious. Mostly he’s just known guys like Rodney before, jello to the casual observer but with a spine of pure steel if he needs it. Dean knows bluster and he knows when someone has a certain something to back the bluster up.
“Teyla has taken Sam for meditation and I’m scheduled to run drills with the marines. Sheppard said it would be okay,” Ronon says and Dean looks up and back at his tall shadow. The guy is gruff, but a kind of gruff Dean can relate to. It was Ronon who had said, “Talk to Sheppard rather than just butting heads, you’ll get further.”
“Meditation?” Rodney snorts and Dean smirks. “Oh la di da, is she taking him for a tea party after?”
“I notice you never make fun of the meditation when she’s within earshot,” Ronon observes.
“Yes, well, I like my balls attached, thanks,” Rodney dismisses and then narrows his eyes at Ronon. Dean is sensing an interesting dynamic between the two men. “Well, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Yep, thanks McKay.” Ronon nods and then turns on his heel, retreating from Rodney’s labs. Rodney seems to forget Dean exists as soon as Ronon has left the room. He goes back to the pile of junk on his desk, muttering about incompetents and donuts.
“Watcha doin?” Dean asks, because one thing he won’t accept is being ignored. He’s the champion of getting someone who is trying to ignore him to pay attention. He’s had Sam to practice on for years.
“No,” Rodney snaps and Dean’s mouth drops open.
“No, what?”
“No questions. No talking, no interacting, just no,” Rodney snaps, stabbing a finger in the direction of another work station. “Park it there and be silent.”
“I could, or I can wander the halls and touch things. For some reason I get the feeling you guys don’t like that.” Dean is almost to the door when he hears Rodney let out an explosive breath.
“For the love of… what? What do you want?”
“Tell me what you’re doing. Maybe I can help. I’m good with my hands.” Dean holds up his hands and waggles his fingers to emphasise his point. “I made the EMF meter Sammy and I use on cases from a walkman.”
“Do I even want to know… oh you know what? Never mind. Just come here and hold this,” Rodney barks. Dean is halfway to him when he remembers what happened last time he touched something under Rodney’s direction. Dean halts and backs up a step. Rodney rolls his eyes. “Oh for heaven’s sake, it’s not going to bite you.”
Dean is tentative anyway, only relaxing when he doesn’t get shocked in the first five minutes. He knows Rodney said no talking, but Rodney is a mutterer when he works and Dean has always been a good listener. When Rodney winds down, Dean asks him an inane question or two, seemingly unrelated but Dean is building a picture in his head.
John had explained to Dean about the discovery of Atlantis and the series of misadventures that had led them to wake a sleeping dragon, an enemy the likes of which Earth had never dealt with before. When Dean asked for specifics he got the feeling that John skirted. He wouldn’t elaborate on why he and Sam had been brought to Atlantis but Dean trusted that the people here at least would try to protect them.
What got Dean most worried was that when it came to Sam, he was getting the feeling that there was a faceless government body in the driver’s seat and that body was more than a little desperate.
“I mean, who knows? Maybe he’ll even be able to drive the Hive ship we captured,” Rodney is saying and Dean snaps back to attention.
“I’m sorry, what?” Dean asks.
“I mean, Teyla could but it took a lot out of her and we’re not really sure how her Wraith DNA works anyway. I’ve always been fuzzy on the soft sciences. I think trying to use your brother as a weapon is a bit of a waste and … what?”
“Trying to use Sam for what?” Dean asks, fairly trembling with rage.
“Oh, ah, y’know, I’m not entirely certain about… study! That’s what he’s here for isn’t he? Study!” Rodney blurts, face reddening as Dean stands. Rodney’s radio clicks and he looks relieved as he taps it. “McKay here,” he snaps and then his eyes dart to Dean who just knows.
Dean is running for the room they left Sam in on the way to the labs before Rodney can stop him.
The pretty girl with the coffee skin, Teyla, is sitting by Sam’s bedside when Dean arrives. A blonde woman is sitting on the other side with a file in her hands. Dean pauses in the infirmary doorway when he sees how pale Sam is.
“What happened?” he growls. Teyla is looking ashen, her eyes too bright, but it’s the blonde woman who stands to answer him.
“Dean is it? I’m Doctor Heightmeyer. How about we-?”
“What did you do to Sammy?” Dean demands, rounding the bed and closing in on Teyla. She stands her ground, letting Dean grab her shoulders and shake her once.
“Get your hands off her,” Dean hears Ronon snarl from behind him but Teyla looks up and over Dean’s shoulder.
“No, Ronon. It’s fine.” She pulls back to look in Dean’s face, eye to eye. “Sam had what I think was a vision. Did you know your brother was a seer?”
“A… yes, yeah, I knew,” Dean nods, loosening his grip on Teyla’s arms and wincing when he sees color flood back into the white marks he’s left. “I’m sorry, it had been a while and I thought maybe… out here…” Dean lets Teyla steer him into the chair she was sitting in, giving in to the gentle push on his shoulders. He leans forward and touches the back of his hand to Sam’s temple.
The skin is cold to the touch.
“There have been stories told through the generations of people who could see the future. I had never thought I would meet one. It was assumed that only the ancestors had such gifts,” Teyla says, her hand a warm weight on Dean’s arm. “I am afraid this may have been my fault as the purpose of our meditation was to open Sam’s mind.”
“No, it’s… not your fault. He had the freak-o-visions before we came here. Did he tell you what he saw?”
“I’m afraid not. Doctor Beckett says he needs to rest,” Heightmeyer says from the other side of the bed.
“Can I stay here until he wakes up?” Dean asks. “He’s always a little disoriented when he’s like this and there won’t be anything familiar here.”
“Of course,” Heightmeyer nods. Teyla gives Dean’s arm a final squeeze before departing.
Elizabeth hears the ‘gate activating and frowns. She stands and skirts her desk, coming out into the main control room. “No one’s due back are they?” she asks as a technician turns to her, face puzzled.
“No Ma’am. Major Gatting’s team shouldn’t be dialling in for another four hours.”
“Something must have happened,” Elizabeth says, knowing that a team coming in early is rarely a good sign. “Try comms.”
“Receiving their IDC but they haven’t responded to hails.”
Elizabeth stares hard at the shield for a moment as if it can give her answers. She remembers the briefing on PG7-989 and how there were magnetic fields that could disrupt radio signal. Something nagged at her, a feeling of wrongwrongwrong. She orders additional marines to the ‘gate room before giving the okay for the proceed signal to be sent.
Something round and metallic rolls through the ‘gate as soon as the shield is dropped and Elizabeth only has time to say, “What-?” when it explodes.
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