![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
And with this posting, I am done with week 1... woo!
Now, this is the end of *this* story but I'd call it less an end and more a...pause. This is leading into a larger arc. I've now posted the entire story complete in this entry. If you've read everything up to now, simply click on the 'Part Seven' link below to skip straight to that part.
Title: My Daddy Was A Soldier Man
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: today's: 599 Total: 3,840
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: All mistakes are mine. This all began with My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |
“Absolutely not.”
John drops his hand from its position, about to knock on the edge of Elizabeth’s office door and frowns. “You don’t even know-”
“You’re here to ask if you can take Dean Winchester out on a mission. The answer is no.”
John, temporarily thwarted, plants himself in the chair facing Elizabeth’s desk. He usually perches on the corner if his intentions are casual. Chair sitting is reserved for only when he’s planning on negotiating for something he really wants. Elizabeth raises a wary eyebrow because for a negotiator who has wrangled the best minds in the political world, she finds herself being talked into things a little too often.
When John opens his mouth, Elizabeth decides that offense is the best defense and heads him off at the pass. “Both Dean and Sam are civilians and only here for six months. I would like them to actually survive their stay and so far, they’ve been placed in enough jeopardy.”
“Keeping them in the city didn’t really work out in the whole, keeping them safe stakes,” John notes dryly and Elizabeth scowls at him.
“I’m sure you’ll agree that the possibility of another Wraith incursion is remote, John,” Elizabeth says, tapping her fingers in the desk.
“He’s bored.”
“What?” Of all the arguments John could have made, all the excuses or theories on why Dean Winchester would be more valuable in the field, this is a surprise. John Sheppard is a straight forward guy, but even he knows when to seed the truth with a touch of what his intended target wants to hear. It takes Elizabeth a little aback and opens her up to listening.
Which is exactly what she knows he means for it to do.
Dammit.
“I’ve known guys like him. Hell, I am a guy like him. He’ll get bored and then he’ll get destructive. There’s only so long you can stick him in the labs with McKay and expect him not to start picking fights with marines.”
“Are you saying he could be violent?”
“I’m saying,” John leans forward, wearing his earnest face. “He’s used to having a purpose. Take that away from a guy like him and the fallout can be… bad.”
“Weren’t you the one warning me he was more trouble than he was worth?” Elizabeth hedges, because what John is saying is making sense but she wants him to work for it, make sure he knows that he really has to pick his battles carefully because she’s more often than not going to deny his requests.
“I still think that. I’m just trying to temper that trouble and keeping him active will do that.”
“What team?” Elizabeth asks, knowing what John is going to say.
“Mine.”
“Baker recently lost Cuttingham,” Elizabeth points out and sees John tense.
“And that means?”
“That we have away teams missing members. If you really think Dean will be an asset, then assign him to one of the teams not on first contact duty. Baker’s men go through with the anthropologists. Smaller risk.” Elizabeth is using negotiation one-o-one on John and she knows it’s a little unfair. Always compromise, never accede to one side’s demands completely because otherwise there is an inbalance that will have repercussions down the line. Of course, John knows exactly what she’s doing because he half-smirks and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Baker’s going to have a shit-fit. He already thinks he’s stuck with babysitting duty as it is.”
“He’s going to appreciate the extra man when he didn’t think he was going to get one for another two months,” Elizabeth counters, even though she knows what John says will be closer to the truth.
“Alright,” John agrees. “Now, how about we give the brothers a break and drop the armed escort?”
“I’ll agree to relieving Dean’s escort but I want someone to stay on Sam,” Elizabeth says. When John opens his mouth to protest, Elizabeth holds up a hand. “I’m sorry John, but Sam is still recovering from being exposed to a Wraith engineered virus. I know Carson has given him a clean bill of health, but there’s no way of knowing if there will be any lasting effects.”
“Well, how about Dean watches him when he can, a guard otherwise?” John proposes and Elizabeth shakes her head.
“I don’t… “ Elizabeth takes a breath, wondering how exactly to express the very real concern she has. “I don’t trust Dean to come to us if there’s a problem.”
John’s mouth firms down, but he nods stiffly.
“How about this?” Elizabeth says. “He’s been working with Teyla a bit and I’ve noticed both Sam and Dean get along with Lorne and Ronon. If it’s okay with them, you can all rotate and we’ll only have a marine or one of the security detail if you’re all offworld?”
John’s expression relaxes and he nods. “Okay yeah, that’s a good idea.” He huffs a sigh, rubbing his hands on his BDU pants. “I just… it’s not really fair on them, you know?”
“Believe me, I know.”
000
The gangways spanning the upper-most reaches of the city are fast becoming Dean’s favourite place.
He runs, the only sound accompanying him the gentle thump-thump-thump of his brother’s and Ronon’s feet. He and Sam used to go on early morning runs as a matter of course when they were younger, even when their father was away. It’s nice to get back into the rythmn of it. Ronon is a welcome shadow, far more than the stony-faced marines both he and Sam have had to put up with since they stepped foot on Atlantis.
“I mean, some people still look at me like I’m going to jump them in the hallways,” Sam is complaining, his voice broken only to drag in breaths. Both of them are really having to push it to keep up with Ronon.
“Just give them the puppy eyes,” Dean suggests with a smirk. He hears Sam curse low under his breath but can’t quite catch the words. He’s pretty sure it will have something to do with him being a jerk.
“It’ll take time,” Ronon says from the other side, sounding annoyingly normal. “It took a while for people to accept me.”
“Big ol’ cuddly teddy like you?” Dean says, reaching out and tapping knuckles on Ronon’s shoulder. “Say it ain’t so!”
“Maybe it’s because of that guy I killed with a spoon,” Ronon muses and Dean stops dead in his tracks. Sam is chortling behind his hand and Dean rolls his eyes.
“Oh that is not funny,” Dean snaps. He’s done in, neither his brother nor Ronon allowing for his shorter legs, and he takes the opportunity to lean over, hands braced in his knees and breathe deep.
“Aw, is little Dean tired?” Sam teases and Dean levels a narrow-eyed gaze at him. Sam is bright red, hair plastered to his forehead and sticking up in the back in sweaty spikes.
“Oh, that is it,” Dean growls and launches himself at Sam. Ronon steps neatly out of the way and then just leans a hip against the railing. The whole gangway shudders when Dean manages to sweep Sam’s legs out from under him and get him pinned. With Sam, he has to get the upper hand quickly or he’s done for, what with Sam’s height and weight advantage.
Dean manages to get Sam half flipped sideways so one arm and one leg are off the ground and he has no leverage. Sam still tries, jerking in such a way that Dean would love to have a camera. Finally Sam goes limp. “Uncle,” he grits.
“Oh no, Sammy. I need the special give today.”
Dean feels Sam’s face against his knee and wonders if he’s going to get teeth to his knee cap but Sam just sighs instead, sounding completely put-upon. “I’m the prettiest princess in all the land,” Sam finally says.
000
They’d been allocated separate rooms but after the Wraith attack, John noticed an extra cot in Sam’s room and all of Dean’s stuff. There was no fuss, it just happened. John suspects that Dean would have preferred it that way from the beginning and the whole fiasco was just an excuse.
So, he’s really not sure if Dean will want to go offworld without his brother.
John finds Dean in the shooting range with Ronon’s weapon. He’d been begging to have a go of it and apparently, his constant nagging had finally born fruit. The fact that he was there alone, without Ronon casting a suspicious eye right over his shoulder, reassures John that he’s doing the right thing because Ronon doesn’t trust easily.
Either that or Dean stole the damn thing and won’t be alive long enough to make it offworld.
John waits until Dean has made confetti of four targets and has temporarily laid the gun aside before he clears his throat. “So, I was wondering if I could run something by you,” John starts and Dean automatically tenses. He can see Dean’s shoulders go up and his face blank out and John puts on a grin, trying to disarm.
“Nothing bad,” John reassures. “I just thought you might be getting sick of being McKay’s personal touch pad.” When Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, John snorts a laugh. “Sorry, that came out far naughtier than I meant it to.” Luckily, the unintentional double entendre has the desired effect of making Dean relax. He turns and resets his target and John knows that’s an important thing, for Dean to turn his back on someone.
“I’m not scrubbing pots or cleaning toilets if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dean says. He thumbs the button that has the paper target rolling back into position and John not for the first time wonders if the Ancients have some more high-tech, cooler way to do the whole firing range thing. There’s a bunch of rooms they still haven’t figured out yet and John’s just waiting for the scientists to find the holodeck.
He’ll feel strangely ripped off if there isn’t one.
“Nothing like that,” John says, moving into the booth next to the one Dean is occupying. He unclips his own weapon and sets it down, loading his own target. It whirs into place before he continues. “You’re well trained and can obviously handle yourself. I don’t believe anyone in this place should be sitting around and twiddling their thumbs.”
“Yeah?” Dean’s trying to sound neutral but John can tell already that he’s interested. John’s an expert on stoic.
“Captain Baker’s team usually goes offworld with a science contingent, keep ‘em from getting into trouble. It’s pretty much a security detail, sometimes when the anthro guys are making negotiations to set up trade.”
“Baker’s the short guy, always looks a little pissed off?”
John digs his teeth into his bottom lip to stop from laughing. To say that Baker looks permanently annoyed is an understatement. Some of the marines, out of his hearing, say that the guy has been in a bad mood since the doctor slapped him on the ass when he was born. That, fortunately, doesn’t detract from the guy being a good soldier and an even better leader. Baker has lost only one team member the entire time he has been in Atlantis, and that was due to a horrendous accident that no one could have forseen. He was hesitant when John had brought his idea to him, but strangely enough, Elizabeth had been closer to the mark with his expected reaction.
“Yeah, the very same,” John confirms. “Anyway, since he’s a man down I was wondering if you’d mind filling in?”
John’s not sure what he’s expecting, but Dean turning and looking at him for a second before saying, “No, thanks,” isn’t it.
“Can I ask why?”
“No,” Dean says simply.
John of course, knows the reason. “Look, if you’re worried about Sam-”
“I’m allowed to say no, right?” Dean snaps and John blinks.
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’m saying no.”
000
“Why not?”
Dean looks at Sam, sitting on his bed, balling his socks and rolls his eyes. “I’d just rather not, okay?”
“Why?”
“This was cute when you were five. It’s a little irritating now,” Dean says, pegging a pillow at Sam’s head. Sam merely leans sideways so it sails harmlessly by his ear and raises his eyebrows.
“You’re bored out of your brain and Sheppard offered you the chance to go to other planets. I may be housebound but you don’t have to be.”
“That’s the thing. It’s unfair if I go and you’re stuck here.”
“Bullshit Dean,” Sam snaps, standing. “Look, I’ve got dozens of babysitters. I don’t need another one.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Dean says, anger thrumming through his veins. “What happened to you…”
“What about what happened to me?” Sam demands. He’s gained back most of the weight and colour he’d lost during his recovery from the Wraith virus, but every now and again, shadows across his face, his cheekbones are a little too sharp and Dean can see smudges where there were slits next to his nose.
Dean swallows hard and turns away. “It terrified the crap out of me,” Dean says, voice low and bruised.
“You can’t watch me every second,” Sam says, sounding tired.
“If something happens to you while I’m gallivanting-”
“You’ve never gallivanted in your life,” Sam interrupts and that’s it, they’re both laughing. “Look,” Sam says when the fit of giggles subsides. “You’re going to go nuts just sitting around here doing nothing. Plus, you’ll look just darling in the uniform.”
“So bitchy,” Dean mock-gasps, putting a hand over his heart. Sam just snickers and Dean finally raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. But you die while I’m not here and we’re gonna have a conversation.”
“I’d expect nothing less than you marching right into the afterlife and dragging my ass back just so you can kick it,” Sam says and while there’s mirth in his tone, his eyes are serious.
“Damn straight,” Dean nods.
000
Teyla, almost dozing in the chair in the corner of Sam’s room, sits up blinking. She’s not entirely sure what has woken her. She looks at Sam and he is sprawled at a diagonal across his bed, feet hanging over the end. Dean is on his first mission away from Atlantis and he hadn’t even needed to ask Teyla if she would watch over Sam.
She understood nightmares and what the Wraith could do to your mind.
She rubs her eyes, looking about the room and that’s when she sees it, a dark figure in the corner furthest away from her. Teyla freezes, hands gripped on the book she’d been reading before she’d fallen asleep. She squints, trying to figure out if it’s just a trick of her tired mind or something more sinister when Sam groans and rolls over and the figure fades back into nothing but shadow.
Teyla looks at the corner for a few more moments and then back at Sam, heart thudding loud in her ears.
000
Teyla’s eyes skip around the gathered group, all grim-faced at her news. Carson is looking down-right ill and Rodney’s hands are twitching, a giveaway that he’s upset.
“We knew this was a possibility,” Elizabeth says.
“I’ll need to do a full workup,” Carson interjects and Teyla lays a hand over his. Despite all their assurances, Carson still shoulders the blame for what happened to Sam.
“Are you sure?” John prompts, leaning forward, hands flat on the table. Teyla grimaces.
“It was late and I was tired. It may simply be-”
“You know what you saw,” Ronon interrupts. He’s looking torn and Teyla understands all too well his conflict. He instinctually hates the Wraith but at the same time understands when someone is made dangerous through no fault of their own. Learning that he had condemned whole villages to death just by giving in to exhaustion and stopping at them had been the hardest thing for him to deal with.
“He didn’t know what he was doing. He was asleep,” Rodney points out. His whole body is now jittering and he’s swinging back and forth in his chair. His easy friendship with Dean was a surprise to all of them, the two thick as thieves astoundingly quickly. By extension, Rodney had become quickly attached to Sam as well, Dean’s care and concern for his younger brother infectious.
“Regardless, it’s a troubling development,” Elizabeth says and drops her chin into her hand. “I hate to do it but we should move him from Atlantis.”
“Just a minute-” John starts to immediately protest but Elizabeth holds up a hand, a silent plea to let her finish.
“We’ve got to face facts. He’s possibly showing signs of having a Wraith ability, to be able to project. We have no idea if that will be the extent of the side affects or if the virus is re-establishing itself and he’ll develop Wraith traits again. Need I remind everyone that Teyla was taken over completely from a distance?”
“We can put him in isolation,” Carson proposes and Elizabeth shakes her head.
“Our continued existence relies on the Wraith not knowing our location. I have to treat any risk to that as potentially deadly. I can’t risk the city. We’ll move Sam to the beta site. There’s a medical facility ninety percent operational.”
“Can we at least wait until Baker’s team gets back from three-nine-eight?” John asks.
“He’s out of radio range for another twelve hours. We can’t.”
“Dammit,” John grates, slapping a hand down on the table, hard. “Dean’s going to think we got rid of him just so we could do this! Any trust we had from either of them is going to be gone.”
“That’s not my most immediate concern,” Elizabeth says, looking pained.
“Shouldn’t we… send them back to Earth? He can’t communicate with the Wraith from there…” Rodney’s voice trails off as he rubs at his temple.
“Sure, if we want to see Sam star in the latest alien autopsy video,” John grits.
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Elizabeth says.
“Sure, let’s just space him,” Rodney snorts and Elizabeth throws her hands up in frustration.
“I’m sorry you all find this so distasteful but my first concern has to be for the city and the people in it. We’ll send a medical team and a security detail with him. We’re not going to just kick him through the ‘gate.” Teyla does not envy Elizabeth making the hard decisions. She knows the woman finds the whole situation as horrible as anyone but doesn’t have the luxury of showing it like she might want to. Teyla, a leader for her own people, understands the hard decisions and how sometimes those you make will leave a dark smudge on your soul, to be revisited in the small hours of the night, picked over and agonised.
“I’m going,” Carson says, looking determined.
“Carson, you can’t-”
“Me too,” Ronon adds from the other side of the room.
“Let’s not get carried-”
“I would also feel more comfortable if I were to accompany him,” Teyla pipes up and she can see that Elizabeth would like nothing more than to smack her head against the table.
“You two stay,” she says instead, pointing fingers at Rodney and John. When both of them look like they’re going to argue, Elizabeth glares at them. “At least until Dean returns.”
000
It doesn’t go well.
Sam leaves without protest, hollow-eyed and concerned but so understanding that it makes something in John’s chest clench. His only real hesitation is how Dean will react and that gives them all pause. Ever since Carson sat him down and told Sam what was going on, what Teyla saw and what they fear it means, John has seen Sam absently rubbing at his face and palms when he thinks no one is watching.
Eight hours after John watches Sam disappear through the Event Horizon, Baker’s team returns. They are recalled without explanation and John can see Dean is on edge as soon as he comes through. John sees Dean automatically scan for his brother as soon as he breaks the surface and when there is no Sam, his grip on his P-90 goes white-knuckled.
“You tell me where he is!” Dean almost shouts, advancing on John.
“He’s fine,” John says, but instead of it being reassuring, Dean’s eyes narrow down and his face goes black with rage.
His weapon comes up and John hears shouts and other weapons being unholstered behind him but he just puts his hands up, palms out. Rodney is a reassuring presence right by his shoulder and it’s a testament to the kind of man Rodney has become over these few short years that he doesn’t even flinch, understanding instinctively as John does that to make any movement, give any ground means that this will go quickly from a tense situation to a complete clusterfuck.
“Sam is fine,” John repeats, voice even. “There were some developments while you were away and we’ve moved him to the beta site. Ronon and Teyla are with him and you can turn around right now and join him. Rodney and I will come with you.”
“What kind of developments?” Dean demands. He still sounds furious but his P-90 dips down and away.
“Would you rather I explain it here with half a dozen guys aiming at your head, or would you like to go back through the ‘gate, sit down next to Sam and we’ll have a proper discussion?”
The P-90 is finally lowered all the way, as far down as the tether allows and Dean nods, once.
000
Dean is a vibrating ball of tension right up until the moment he spots Sam. Everything in him relaxes, especially to see that Sam is laughing at something Ronon has just said by the look of it when he steps through the ‘gate.
“My heart can’t take much more of this, Sammy,” Dean scolds, putting a hand to Sam’s shoulder and squeezing briefly.
“Sorry if my mutation is inconveniencing you,” Sam jokes, but it falls flat between them.
The beta site is a planet with a similar climate to Earth, only running a few degrees warmer than average. There are makeshift barracks and the medical facilities are a temporary-looking affair, something more permanent in the works. Teyla explains that with the Athosian’s expanding population and their nomadic nature, some of them have been planning to break off from the main tribe and forge their own place. The beta site offers protection while allowing them to relocate and develop the surrounding area.
All Dean cares about is that his brother is there, all present and accounted for. He’s looking outwardly relaxed but Dean can read worry in the lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his mouth. Dean isn’t that concerned. They’ve done this dance before and Sam came out the other side. No matter what, Sam will always be Sam.
Dean is sure of it.
Now, this is the end of *this* story but I'd call it less an end and more a...pause. This is leading into a larger arc. I've now posted the entire story complete in this entry. If you've read everything up to now, simply click on the 'Part Seven' link below to skip straight to that part.
Title: My Daddy Was A Soldier Man
By:
kellifer_ficFandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover
Words: today's: 599 Total: 3,840
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: All mistakes are mine. This all began with My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven |
“Absolutely not.”
John drops his hand from its position, about to knock on the edge of Elizabeth’s office door and frowns. “You don’t even know-”
“You’re here to ask if you can take Dean Winchester out on a mission. The answer is no.”
John, temporarily thwarted, plants himself in the chair facing Elizabeth’s desk. He usually perches on the corner if his intentions are casual. Chair sitting is reserved for only when he’s planning on negotiating for something he really wants. Elizabeth raises a wary eyebrow because for a negotiator who has wrangled the best minds in the political world, she finds herself being talked into things a little too often.
When John opens his mouth, Elizabeth decides that offense is the best defense and heads him off at the pass. “Both Dean and Sam are civilians and only here for six months. I would like them to actually survive their stay and so far, they’ve been placed in enough jeopardy.”
“Keeping them in the city didn’t really work out in the whole, keeping them safe stakes,” John notes dryly and Elizabeth scowls at him.
“I’m sure you’ll agree that the possibility of another Wraith incursion is remote, John,” Elizabeth says, tapping her fingers in the desk.
“He’s bored.”
“What?” Of all the arguments John could have made, all the excuses or theories on why Dean Winchester would be more valuable in the field, this is a surprise. John Sheppard is a straight forward guy, but even he knows when to seed the truth with a touch of what his intended target wants to hear. It takes Elizabeth a little aback and opens her up to listening.
Which is exactly what she knows he means for it to do.
Dammit.
“I’ve known guys like him. Hell, I am a guy like him. He’ll get bored and then he’ll get destructive. There’s only so long you can stick him in the labs with McKay and expect him not to start picking fights with marines.”
“Are you saying he could be violent?”
“I’m saying,” John leans forward, wearing his earnest face. “He’s used to having a purpose. Take that away from a guy like him and the fallout can be… bad.”
“Weren’t you the one warning me he was more trouble than he was worth?” Elizabeth hedges, because what John is saying is making sense but she wants him to work for it, make sure he knows that he really has to pick his battles carefully because she’s more often than not going to deny his requests.
“I still think that. I’m just trying to temper that trouble and keeping him active will do that.”
“What team?” Elizabeth asks, knowing what John is going to say.
“Mine.”
“Baker recently lost Cuttingham,” Elizabeth points out and sees John tense.
“And that means?”
“That we have away teams missing members. If you really think Dean will be an asset, then assign him to one of the teams not on first contact duty. Baker’s men go through with the anthropologists. Smaller risk.” Elizabeth is using negotiation one-o-one on John and she knows it’s a little unfair. Always compromise, never accede to one side’s demands completely because otherwise there is an inbalance that will have repercussions down the line. Of course, John knows exactly what she’s doing because he half-smirks and sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Baker’s going to have a shit-fit. He already thinks he’s stuck with babysitting duty as it is.”
“He’s going to appreciate the extra man when he didn’t think he was going to get one for another two months,” Elizabeth counters, even though she knows what John says will be closer to the truth.
“Alright,” John agrees. “Now, how about we give the brothers a break and drop the armed escort?”
“I’ll agree to relieving Dean’s escort but I want someone to stay on Sam,” Elizabeth says. When John opens his mouth to protest, Elizabeth holds up a hand. “I’m sorry John, but Sam is still recovering from being exposed to a Wraith engineered virus. I know Carson has given him a clean bill of health, but there’s no way of knowing if there will be any lasting effects.”
“Well, how about Dean watches him when he can, a guard otherwise?” John proposes and Elizabeth shakes her head.
“I don’t… “ Elizabeth takes a breath, wondering how exactly to express the very real concern she has. “I don’t trust Dean to come to us if there’s a problem.”
John’s mouth firms down, but he nods stiffly.
“How about this?” Elizabeth says. “He’s been working with Teyla a bit and I’ve noticed both Sam and Dean get along with Lorne and Ronon. If it’s okay with them, you can all rotate and we’ll only have a marine or one of the security detail if you’re all offworld?”
John’s expression relaxes and he nods. “Okay yeah, that’s a good idea.” He huffs a sigh, rubbing his hands on his BDU pants. “I just… it’s not really fair on them, you know?”
“Believe me, I know.”
The gangways spanning the upper-most reaches of the city are fast becoming Dean’s favourite place.
He runs, the only sound accompanying him the gentle thump-thump-thump of his brother’s and Ronon’s feet. He and Sam used to go on early morning runs as a matter of course when they were younger, even when their father was away. It’s nice to get back into the rythmn of it. Ronon is a welcome shadow, far more than the stony-faced marines both he and Sam have had to put up with since they stepped foot on Atlantis.
“I mean, some people still look at me like I’m going to jump them in the hallways,” Sam is complaining, his voice broken only to drag in breaths. Both of them are really having to push it to keep up with Ronon.
“Just give them the puppy eyes,” Dean suggests with a smirk. He hears Sam curse low under his breath but can’t quite catch the words. He’s pretty sure it will have something to do with him being a jerk.
“It’ll take time,” Ronon says from the other side, sounding annoyingly normal. “It took a while for people to accept me.”
“Big ol’ cuddly teddy like you?” Dean says, reaching out and tapping knuckles on Ronon’s shoulder. “Say it ain’t so!”
“Maybe it’s because of that guy I killed with a spoon,” Ronon muses and Dean stops dead in his tracks. Sam is chortling behind his hand and Dean rolls his eyes.
“Oh that is not funny,” Dean snaps. He’s done in, neither his brother nor Ronon allowing for his shorter legs, and he takes the opportunity to lean over, hands braced in his knees and breathe deep.
“Aw, is little Dean tired?” Sam teases and Dean levels a narrow-eyed gaze at him. Sam is bright red, hair plastered to his forehead and sticking up in the back in sweaty spikes.
“Oh, that is it,” Dean growls and launches himself at Sam. Ronon steps neatly out of the way and then just leans a hip against the railing. The whole gangway shudders when Dean manages to sweep Sam’s legs out from under him and get him pinned. With Sam, he has to get the upper hand quickly or he’s done for, what with Sam’s height and weight advantage.
Dean manages to get Sam half flipped sideways so one arm and one leg are off the ground and he has no leverage. Sam still tries, jerking in such a way that Dean would love to have a camera. Finally Sam goes limp. “Uncle,” he grits.
“Oh no, Sammy. I need the special give today.”
Dean feels Sam’s face against his knee and wonders if he’s going to get teeth to his knee cap but Sam just sighs instead, sounding completely put-upon. “I’m the prettiest princess in all the land,” Sam finally says.
They’d been allocated separate rooms but after the Wraith attack, John noticed an extra cot in Sam’s room and all of Dean’s stuff. There was no fuss, it just happened. John suspects that Dean would have preferred it that way from the beginning and the whole fiasco was just an excuse.
So, he’s really not sure if Dean will want to go offworld without his brother.
John finds Dean in the shooting range with Ronon’s weapon. He’d been begging to have a go of it and apparently, his constant nagging had finally born fruit. The fact that he was there alone, without Ronon casting a suspicious eye right over his shoulder, reassures John that he’s doing the right thing because Ronon doesn’t trust easily.
Either that or Dean stole the damn thing and won’t be alive long enough to make it offworld.
John waits until Dean has made confetti of four targets and has temporarily laid the gun aside before he clears his throat. “So, I was wondering if I could run something by you,” John starts and Dean automatically tenses. He can see Dean’s shoulders go up and his face blank out and John puts on a grin, trying to disarm.
“Nothing bad,” John reassures. “I just thought you might be getting sick of being McKay’s personal touch pad.” When Dean’s eyebrows shoot up, John snorts a laugh. “Sorry, that came out far naughtier than I meant it to.” Luckily, the unintentional double entendre has the desired effect of making Dean relax. He turns and resets his target and John knows that’s an important thing, for Dean to turn his back on someone.
“I’m not scrubbing pots or cleaning toilets if that’s what you’re thinking,” Dean says. He thumbs the button that has the paper target rolling back into position and John not for the first time wonders if the Ancients have some more high-tech, cooler way to do the whole firing range thing. There’s a bunch of rooms they still haven’t figured out yet and John’s just waiting for the scientists to find the holodeck.
He’ll feel strangely ripped off if there isn’t one.
“Nothing like that,” John says, moving into the booth next to the one Dean is occupying. He unclips his own weapon and sets it down, loading his own target. It whirs into place before he continues. “You’re well trained and can obviously handle yourself. I don’t believe anyone in this place should be sitting around and twiddling their thumbs.”
“Yeah?” Dean’s trying to sound neutral but John can tell already that he’s interested. John’s an expert on stoic.
“Captain Baker’s team usually goes offworld with a science contingent, keep ‘em from getting into trouble. It’s pretty much a security detail, sometimes when the anthro guys are making negotiations to set up trade.”
“Baker’s the short guy, always looks a little pissed off?”
John digs his teeth into his bottom lip to stop from laughing. To say that Baker looks permanently annoyed is an understatement. Some of the marines, out of his hearing, say that the guy has been in a bad mood since the doctor slapped him on the ass when he was born. That, fortunately, doesn’t detract from the guy being a good soldier and an even better leader. Baker has lost only one team member the entire time he has been in Atlantis, and that was due to a horrendous accident that no one could have forseen. He was hesitant when John had brought his idea to him, but strangely enough, Elizabeth had been closer to the mark with his expected reaction.
“Yeah, the very same,” John confirms. “Anyway, since he’s a man down I was wondering if you’d mind filling in?”
John’s not sure what he’s expecting, but Dean turning and looking at him for a second before saying, “No, thanks,” isn’t it.
“Can I ask why?”
“No,” Dean says simply.
John of course, knows the reason. “Look, if you’re worried about Sam-”
“I’m allowed to say no, right?” Dean snaps and John blinks.
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’m saying no.”
“Why not?”
Dean looks at Sam, sitting on his bed, balling his socks and rolls his eyes. “I’d just rather not, okay?”
“Why?”
“This was cute when you were five. It’s a little irritating now,” Dean says, pegging a pillow at Sam’s head. Sam merely leans sideways so it sails harmlessly by his ear and raises his eyebrows.
“You’re bored out of your brain and Sheppard offered you the chance to go to other planets. I may be housebound but you don’t have to be.”
“That’s the thing. It’s unfair if I go and you’re stuck here.”
“Bullshit Dean,” Sam snaps, standing. “Look, I’ve got dozens of babysitters. I don’t need another one.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Dean says, anger thrumming through his veins. “What happened to you…”
“What about what happened to me?” Sam demands. He’s gained back most of the weight and colour he’d lost during his recovery from the Wraith virus, but every now and again, shadows across his face, his cheekbones are a little too sharp and Dean can see smudges where there were slits next to his nose.
Dean swallows hard and turns away. “It terrified the crap out of me,” Dean says, voice low and bruised.
“You can’t watch me every second,” Sam says, sounding tired.
“If something happens to you while I’m gallivanting-”
“You’ve never gallivanted in your life,” Sam interrupts and that’s it, they’re both laughing. “Look,” Sam says when the fit of giggles subsides. “You’re going to go nuts just sitting around here doing nothing. Plus, you’ll look just darling in the uniform.”
“So bitchy,” Dean mock-gasps, putting a hand over his heart. Sam just snickers and Dean finally raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. But you die while I’m not here and we’re gonna have a conversation.”
“I’d expect nothing less than you marching right into the afterlife and dragging my ass back just so you can kick it,” Sam says and while there’s mirth in his tone, his eyes are serious.
“Damn straight,” Dean nods.
Teyla, almost dozing in the chair in the corner of Sam’s room, sits up blinking. She’s not entirely sure what has woken her. She looks at Sam and he is sprawled at a diagonal across his bed, feet hanging over the end. Dean is on his first mission away from Atlantis and he hadn’t even needed to ask Teyla if she would watch over Sam.
She understood nightmares and what the Wraith could do to your mind.
She rubs her eyes, looking about the room and that’s when she sees it, a dark figure in the corner furthest away from her. Teyla freezes, hands gripped on the book she’d been reading before she’d fallen asleep. She squints, trying to figure out if it’s just a trick of her tired mind or something more sinister when Sam groans and rolls over and the figure fades back into nothing but shadow.
Teyla looks at the corner for a few more moments and then back at Sam, heart thudding loud in her ears.
Teyla’s eyes skip around the gathered group, all grim-faced at her news. Carson is looking down-right ill and Rodney’s hands are twitching, a giveaway that he’s upset.
“We knew this was a possibility,” Elizabeth says.
“I’ll need to do a full workup,” Carson interjects and Teyla lays a hand over his. Despite all their assurances, Carson still shoulders the blame for what happened to Sam.
“Are you sure?” John prompts, leaning forward, hands flat on the table. Teyla grimaces.
“It was late and I was tired. It may simply be-”
“You know what you saw,” Ronon interrupts. He’s looking torn and Teyla understands all too well his conflict. He instinctually hates the Wraith but at the same time understands when someone is made dangerous through no fault of their own. Learning that he had condemned whole villages to death just by giving in to exhaustion and stopping at them had been the hardest thing for him to deal with.
“He didn’t know what he was doing. He was asleep,” Rodney points out. His whole body is now jittering and he’s swinging back and forth in his chair. His easy friendship with Dean was a surprise to all of them, the two thick as thieves astoundingly quickly. By extension, Rodney had become quickly attached to Sam as well, Dean’s care and concern for his younger brother infectious.
“Regardless, it’s a troubling development,” Elizabeth says and drops her chin into her hand. “I hate to do it but we should move him from Atlantis.”
“Just a minute-” John starts to immediately protest but Elizabeth holds up a hand, a silent plea to let her finish.
“We’ve got to face facts. He’s possibly showing signs of having a Wraith ability, to be able to project. We have no idea if that will be the extent of the side affects or if the virus is re-establishing itself and he’ll develop Wraith traits again. Need I remind everyone that Teyla was taken over completely from a distance?”
“We can put him in isolation,” Carson proposes and Elizabeth shakes her head.
“Our continued existence relies on the Wraith not knowing our location. I have to treat any risk to that as potentially deadly. I can’t risk the city. We’ll move Sam to the beta site. There’s a medical facility ninety percent operational.”
“Can we at least wait until Baker’s team gets back from three-nine-eight?” John asks.
“He’s out of radio range for another twelve hours. We can’t.”
“Dammit,” John grates, slapping a hand down on the table, hard. “Dean’s going to think we got rid of him just so we could do this! Any trust we had from either of them is going to be gone.”
“That’s not my most immediate concern,” Elizabeth says, looking pained.
“Shouldn’t we… send them back to Earth? He can’t communicate with the Wraith from there…” Rodney’s voice trails off as he rubs at his temple.
“Sure, if we want to see Sam star in the latest alien autopsy video,” John grits.
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Elizabeth says.
“Sure, let’s just space him,” Rodney snorts and Elizabeth throws her hands up in frustration.
“I’m sorry you all find this so distasteful but my first concern has to be for the city and the people in it. We’ll send a medical team and a security detail with him. We’re not going to just kick him through the ‘gate.” Teyla does not envy Elizabeth making the hard decisions. She knows the woman finds the whole situation as horrible as anyone but doesn’t have the luxury of showing it like she might want to. Teyla, a leader for her own people, understands the hard decisions and how sometimes those you make will leave a dark smudge on your soul, to be revisited in the small hours of the night, picked over and agonised.
“I’m going,” Carson says, looking determined.
“Carson, you can’t-”
“Me too,” Ronon adds from the other side of the room.
“Let’s not get carried-”
“I would also feel more comfortable if I were to accompany him,” Teyla pipes up and she can see that Elizabeth would like nothing more than to smack her head against the table.
“You two stay,” she says instead, pointing fingers at Rodney and John. When both of them look like they’re going to argue, Elizabeth glares at them. “At least until Dean returns.”
It doesn’t go well.
Sam leaves without protest, hollow-eyed and concerned but so understanding that it makes something in John’s chest clench. His only real hesitation is how Dean will react and that gives them all pause. Ever since Carson sat him down and told Sam what was going on, what Teyla saw and what they fear it means, John has seen Sam absently rubbing at his face and palms when he thinks no one is watching.
Eight hours after John watches Sam disappear through the Event Horizon, Baker’s team returns. They are recalled without explanation and John can see Dean is on edge as soon as he comes through. John sees Dean automatically scan for his brother as soon as he breaks the surface and when there is no Sam, his grip on his P-90 goes white-knuckled.
“You tell me where he is!” Dean almost shouts, advancing on John.
“He’s fine,” John says, but instead of it being reassuring, Dean’s eyes narrow down and his face goes black with rage.
His weapon comes up and John hears shouts and other weapons being unholstered behind him but he just puts his hands up, palms out. Rodney is a reassuring presence right by his shoulder and it’s a testament to the kind of man Rodney has become over these few short years that he doesn’t even flinch, understanding instinctively as John does that to make any movement, give any ground means that this will go quickly from a tense situation to a complete clusterfuck.
“Sam is fine,” John repeats, voice even. “There were some developments while you were away and we’ve moved him to the beta site. Ronon and Teyla are with him and you can turn around right now and join him. Rodney and I will come with you.”
“What kind of developments?” Dean demands. He still sounds furious but his P-90 dips down and away.
“Would you rather I explain it here with half a dozen guys aiming at your head, or would you like to go back through the ‘gate, sit down next to Sam and we’ll have a proper discussion?”
The P-90 is finally lowered all the way, as far down as the tether allows and Dean nods, once.
Dean is a vibrating ball of tension right up until the moment he spots Sam. Everything in him relaxes, especially to see that Sam is laughing at something Ronon has just said by the look of it when he steps through the ‘gate.
“My heart can’t take much more of this, Sammy,” Dean scolds, putting a hand to Sam’s shoulder and squeezing briefly.
“Sorry if my mutation is inconveniencing you,” Sam jokes, but it falls flat between them.
The beta site is a planet with a similar climate to Earth, only running a few degrees warmer than average. There are makeshift barracks and the medical facilities are a temporary-looking affair, something more permanent in the works. Teyla explains that with the Athosian’s expanding population and their nomadic nature, some of them have been planning to break off from the main tribe and forge their own place. The beta site offers protection while allowing them to relocate and develop the surrounding area.
All Dean cares about is that his brother is there, all present and accounted for. He’s looking outwardly relaxed but Dean can read worry in the lines of his shoulders and the tilt of his mouth. Dean isn’t that concerned. They’ve done this dance before and Sam came out the other side. No matter what, Sam will always be Sam.
Dean is sure of it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
Dean is sure of it.
That doesn't sound ominous, at all. *is fearful*
Still, I have faith in our boys and in our SGA team and cannot wait until you're able to add to this.
I do not say this enough, but your stories rock all kinds of awesome!
From:
no subject