![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: My Daddy Listened To Queen (On The Tapedeck In His Chevrolet) - Complete
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 / Gen
Words: 5,700
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: All mistakes are mine. This is a continuation of My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This and My Daddy Was A Soldier Man
"I'm bored."
"Does telling me that every twelve seconds help?" Sam asks, finally sounding irked which is what Dean was aiming for. He looks at Sam upside down from his bed, sitting at the metal table and chair balanced on its hind legs. Dean likes the constants about Sam, how he'd outgrown human-sized furniture at age sixteen and could only sit on a chair with his feet flat without his knees up around his ears if the seat was slanted up.
Stuff that didn't change with their zip code.
"Why is it-" Sam continues, "That we're in a different galaxy and I'm still stuck sharing a tiny room with you?"
Dean opens his mouth to point out that Sam was the one that just assumed they'd occupy the same space but then thinks better of it. He knows it will end in a fight, them living in each other's pockets like they are, and he doesn't want to go there. He doesn't want Sam to pull a bitchface, pack his stuff and move into a room at the other side of the compound just to win an argument.
He likes having Sam where he can see him, can't really relax without line of sight.
"Whatever, you love it," Dean says instead and watches Sam's mouth tug up at the corners. "Now if there's any games on that then hand it over," Dean demands, making grab-hands at the tablet Sam's been messing with for the past hour.
"You really think an Airforce Officer would have solitaire loaded on his handheld?" Sam asks, rolling his eyes.
"What are you doing then?" Dean asks, suspicious.
Sam ducks his head and mumbles something that sounds astoundingly like Minesweeper.
"I knew it!" Dean chortles and launches himself from the bed.
The ensuing wrestling match might not win him the prized handheld but it does actually mean he's not bored.
--
"How is Sam?" Teyla asks, settling down next to Dean who's sprawled under the only tree in the area. He's been watching Sheppard and Ronon have a very heated argument about which Bond was the best one and wondering just why he disliked Sheppard so intensley when they first met.
He supposes it might be because Sheppard was basically his dad, just with about ten years and a wife's brutal murder peeled off.
"You could ask Sam," Dean points out and Teyla offers him the kind of smile he thinks translates to don't be dense.
"I do ask Sam and he says he's fine. I ask you how you are and you say fine. I'm trying a different tactic."
"Y'know," Dean says, rubs a hand across his face. "I was totally lied to by Star Trek. You should be blue."
"Changing the subject is a form of evasion I am very used to with John. I do not, as you say, buy it."
"He's fine," Dean says and then grimaces when Teyla narrows her eyes at him. "There's some residual... oddness, but Sammy's always been a little weird."
Teyla makes a contemplative sound and leans back so her shoulder is pressed into Dean's. They both watch as Sheppard and Ronon try to get Rodney to pick sides who very loudly and in great detail, tells them both exactly how much he doesn't care while he works on fixing the water filtration system that will prevent them all dying horribly filled to bursting with parasites.
Dean tries not to feel like he's missing something but he resolve to watch Sam closer.
--
Dean wakes with the dawn.
It's an annoying leftover from early morning drills with his father and brother, John Winchester a big believer in a heart attack before breakfast and therefore thinking up elaborate ways to wake his sons that threatened their very sanity. Dean became an early riser out of self preservation and then was never able to shake the habit.
What's bad about the Beta site is that sunrise is actually in the middle of the night by Pegasus Adjusted time and so four hours before Dean's due to actually get up for his watch.
He rolls out of bed, pulls his boots on and a long sleeve shirt to ward off the morning chill and checks Sam. His younger brother is sleeping peacefully, on his stomach with an arm dangling over the side of the cot. Dean tucks it back onto the bed and then makes sure the blankets are pulled to Sam's shoulders before heading out.
They're only a small group, but Dean knows someone will be up. He sees Ronon, a dark silhouette on a raised ridge at the border of the compound. He's heading that way when he hears the unmistakable sounds of McKay cursing and throwing things. Dean changes course and finds MacKay near their gate, a panel in the DHD pulled open with its innards spilled out on the ground. MacKay is sucking his fingers and scowling at the thing like its being deliberately difficult.
"You've got that look," Dean says, kicking gently at MacKay's feet when he fails to notice Dean's arrival.
"What look?" McKay asks, words garbled because he still has his index and middle fingers in his mouth.
"The look you usually get before you announce that something truly horrible has happened," Dean says, adding, "Or is about to."
"I've got a look for that?" McKay asks, finally yanking his fingers free and squinting up at Dean.
"Sam gets the same look right before he tells me that we have to dance naked under the moonlight to rid ourselves of the monster of the week," Dean says and when McKay arches an eyebrow at him, Dean grimaces. "Only happened the once and not the point," he says hurriedly. "What's up?"
"I'm getting nothing when I'm trying to dial Atlantis," Rodney says. His hands hover over the exposed wires of the DHD and Dean figures he was sucking his fingers because he'd gotten a shock and was a little hesitant to dive back in.
"Engaged signal?" Dean asks, hunkering down.
"No," McKay huffs. "Nothing. It's acting like the address doesn't exist."
"You tried dialling other places?" Dean asks and gets a raised eyebrow for his trouble.
"No, I didn't try that because I'm a complete moron," McKay says snippily. "It's like nothing's out there."
"Can others dial in?"
"If I wanted to be peppered with inane questions I would have let Ronon keep talking to me fifteen minutes ago," McKay snaps, but Dean recognises that McKay only gets truly snippy when he doesn't know the answers to very obvious questions. Dean just waits patiently while McKay huffs around before he finally admits, "I can't tell but I don't think so."
"Could it just be a fault with the DHD or the gate?" Dean presses and McKay gestures at the exposed insides of the DHD.
"I'm not giving myself very excruciating shocks for fun. I'm trying to figure that out."
"Why don't we leave the prickly scientist to do his thing?" Dean feels a hand clamp on his shoulder and turns his head to look up at Sheppard, haloed in the dawn light. Dean nods and stands, his knees popping. Sheppard hands him a tin cup of coffee even though Dean could've sworn they were out last week. He takes a sip and then pulls a face because it's decaf which is worse than having none.
The two men edge away from McKay and Dean feels Sheppard's gaze on his face. He's still looking at McKay though and Sheppard finally kicks at his foot much in the same way Dean did to McKay just a few minutes ago.
"I've thought of that too," Sheppard says and Dean finally tears his eyes away from McKay to look at Sheppard's grim expression. It looks a little out of place considering Sheppard mostly gives off the impression of laidback abandon but Dean can recognize a man that will grim-down when the need arises.
He's heard the stories about Sheppard taking on an invasion force single-handedly and basically handing their asses to them.
"First thing you do is cut off communications and any avenue of retreat," Dean says, his attention being dragged back to the silent gate. "When you're planning an attack."
"He's been around the military long enough to know that too," Sheppard says, jerking his chin in McKay's direction. "This is just him coping."
"How long do we have to be overdue before Atlantis does something about it?"
"Ten days," Sheppard says. "And it's not like after that they can just pop over and check on us with the gate out of commission."
"So we're basically on our own?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
*
"You think it's the Wraith?" Carson asks the obvious question.
They've gathered while Sam is on watch. He'd been so jazzed to finally get to take a watch on his own that he hadn't even questioned it. He'd practically bowled Dean over heading for the door and the solitude that he hadn't been allowed since they first hit Pegasus, having to be babysat in one form or another for the entire time.
Dean still feels a little skeezy leaving Sam out on his own so they can discuss what's happening.
"Do I think it's the only other race in this galaxy with a working knowledge of the gate system? Hmm, let me think about it," Rodney snarks.
"Aye Rodney, sarcasm always helps," Carson sighs and Dean sees Carson roll his eyes and turn his attention to Teyla. "I meant is this a usual Wraith strategy? I figured them more as the brute force type."
"Carson is right to question," Teyla says. "If they knew we were here and wanted us either dead or captured, they would have sent great numbers to overwhelm us quickly."
"They've gotta know we know they're coming," John says, scratching at the back of his head and frowning in a way that Dean has come to recognize as John flipping through his mental rolodex of tactics.
"It is not like the Wraith to tread with caution. They have infinite numbers at their disposal, especially since they have all awakened from slumber," Teyla continues and Dean sees John wince just the tiniest bit, a blink-and-you'd-miss-it micro expression. He's left wondering what the story is behind that.
Dean feels the weight of everyone's attention and he slams the heel of his palm on the table they're all sitting at. "We can't just assume it's because of Sam," he snaps because he knows that's exactly what everyone's thinking.
He hates himself for thinking it too.
Before anyone can comment, the tell-tale sound of the gate activating starts up. Rodney swears colourfully, tossing his chair back but Dean's already out of his seat and heading for the door, John right on his ass.
He hits daylight and sees Sam hurtling down the hill towards the gate at a dead run with Ronon's blaster in hand, much closer than any of them. The gate connects and Dean sees something small, round and metallic sail through it. "Sammy!" Dean screams because Sam is still heading towards the gate. Sam skids to a stop just as the small metallic ball hits the ground once, bounces and explodes.
*
"It didn't hit anything major," Carson says, scrubbing at his hands and looking over his shoulder at Dean.
"It hit Sam," Dean growls. "Can't get more major than that."
"I understand you're upset," Carson starts to say and he's using the soothing, medical tone that has always made Dean see red.
"I'm miles, continents past upset," Dean yells, fighting the urge to just grab Carson and shake him because right now Sam needs a doctor that hasn't had his brains rattled about.
"I have to monitor for primary injuries," Carson says. "We know he has a secondary injury-" When Dean just glares at him, Carson amends, "Shrapnel in his leg but I need to make sure he has no lung or gastrointestinal injuries which can present hours or even days after."
"We have to get away from the gate," Dean argues.
"I don't want him to move for at least a day," Carson says and repeats, "At least."
John is at Dean's shoulder and he scrubs a hand over his face. "I don't want to risk Sam but Dean's right. We're pretty powerless at the moment and it seems like someone is content to dial us up and lob stuff at us. I'm betting the yield is going to steadily increase until they're sure we're just black smears on the landscape."
"We can make a stretcher and carry his big ass," Dean adds.
"You can do what you like but Sam stays put."
Dean looks over his shoulder at John. "You didn't think bringing a puddlejumper through with us would be a good idea?" he gripes.
John pulls a face back at him and rolls his eyes. "Well I do now," he says.
Teyla pokes her head around the curtain Carson had pulled around Sam's bed and Carson throws up his hands. "That's it, everyone out," he snaps, putting his arms out and herding backwards, collecting Ronon who'd appeared on the other side with them. The only one missing was Rodney who had muttered something about rigging some kind of shield and looking particularly manic before he'd disappeared who knew where.
Once they're all out in the main area of the infirmary, Carson crosses his arms. "I'm not going to change my mind about moving him," he says, sounding downright snippy for Carson. "No matter if you all gang up on me."
"I do not think we should," Teyla says and holds up her hand when she notices Dean is about to protest, vehemently. "Ronon reminded me that I mispoke when I said that I had not seen this tactic employed by the Wraith before."
"Oh?" John raises his eyebrows and makes a do explain gesture with his hand.
"Most smaller settlements are built up around the ancestral ring. It makes trade easier and also the rings tend to be placed in the most temperate areas of a planet. We are not sure if this was a deliberate decision by the Ancients or chance."
"But it's risky," John interjects. "Without a shield, if invaders come through then they arrive in the middle of your town."
"It is a risk most are willing to take for the benefits. Some controlled by the Wraith were also instructed to live close by."
"This is all fascinating," Dean starts to say but quiets when Ronon puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.
"The Wraith will deliberately... encourage the people to scatter away from the ring if they have a specific item they need to procure and they cannot risk it being damaged or lost by coming in force."
"We're back to Sam again, aren't we?" Dean demands, shaking off Ronon's hand.
"You can't ignore the obvious," Ronon says with a shrug and Dean just scowls at him because he knows he's more likely right than not. Sam had always been a magnet for trouble back on Earth and it is in no way comforting to find that he didn't shake that particular quirk by leaving the solar system behind.
"If we leave the gate, they will come through in great numbers. Our only chance is to stay close by and force them to send a small raiding party so we can find out exactly what they want and perhaps reestablish a connection to the gate system."
"They can tell where we are?" John asks Teyla who nods. "That's an unpleasant thought."
"We must arm ourselves and be ready," Teyla says grimly. Everyone jumps when Ronon claps his hands together, a loud sound that breaks the tension.
"Awesome," he says and John snorts and pokes Dean in the shoulder.
"I blame you," he says.
*
"As much as I hate to admit it, Teyla's right," Rodney is saying to John when Dean joins them, about to make a case for just running like hell again. He's heard the stories about John taking out raiding parties with nothing but gum and a swiss army knife and no matter how far from the truth it is or close, Dean isn't willing to risk Sam to test the eggagerations.
He clamps his mouth shut when he hears Rodney who is usually always on the run for your lives bandwagon. "You're actually saying we should make a stand?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.
Both John and Rodney turn to him and Dean knows from personal experience that they've probably had a lot more conversation than verbal about this very thing. He has that kind of shorthand with Sam, decisions made in the blink of an eye and anyone on the outside left mystified. It's a shorthand he misses since Sam has grown more distant of late, increasingly worried about his role in basically marooning himself and Dean in an alien landscape.
"If the Wraith come through in force, they'll come through in Darts and just scoop us up. If they're sending a small raiding party they'll do it on foot."
"Yeah, I get why that's slightly better odds but-"
"It's not about the odds," Rodney interjects, waving a dismissive hand. "The Darts have dial devices inbuilt like our Puddlejumpers do. If the Wraith come through on foot they'll have to bring through something so they can get off the planet again, a way of negating whatever the hell it is they've done to cut us off."
"It's our only chance to get off the planet." John nods.
"They may have a way of remotely locking down certain gates. I can't find any frequency being emitted but I'm not ruling that out. The only thing we know for certain is that they wouldn't step foot on this planet unless they had a way of getting off again."
"What if they're sending through ground troops and getting a big ass mothership to pick them up later so they don't use the gate to get back at all?" Dean asks and Rodney frowns at him while John bites his lip.
"He's got a point," John says, rubbing at the back of his head.
"That's... a possibility, yes," Rodney admits. "I hate to say this but for one of the few occassions in my life, I'm out of any other ideas. There's only so much a man can do, even a certified genuius, given limited equipment and time."
Dean just looks at them both for a beat and then sighs heavily. "If they get Sam again-"
"They won't," John says grimly and Dean holds John's grim gaze for a moment before he nods.
*
"I thought Carson wasn't done wrapping you in cotton wool," Dean says, catching Sam timidly edging out of the makeshift infirmary, shouldering a robe on and curling bare toes against the chill in the ground.
"I staged a jail break," Sam says, grinning sheepishly. "It was very daring, you should have been there."
"You waited till he fell asleep, didn't you?"
"Face down on his desk, absolutely," Sam says and winces when he nods. Dean makes a noise of protest and goes to put a shoulder under Sam's but he leans away, waving Dean off. "I'm fine," he grumbles. "Had worse."
"I don't remember you ever being blown up before kiddo," Dean says and Sam rolls his eyes, reminding Dean of his sixteen year old self for a moment so strongly that Dean is almost dizzy with the nostalgia of it.
"We know what that was?" Sam asks, changing topics as elegantly as he ever did and making a leave me be or I'll hurt you gesture with his arm until Dean backs up and lets him totter along the wall, trailing a hand in the direction of their building.
"An explosive of some sort," Dean hedges and Sam spares a moment to just stare at him.
"Yeah, I figured that with the whole blowing up," he snaps. He narrows his eyes and Dean's own gaze skips away. Dean's got an excellent poker face when it comes to bilking soldiers and truckers out of their hard-earned cash but he's never really been able to get anything by Sam or his dad. They have some kind of similar inbuilt Winchester bullshit detector.
"What aren't you telling me?" Sam demands, halting his steady but painful-looking progress to give Dean his full attention.
"It's probably Wraith," Dean admits. "Or... definitely Wraith."
"Shit," Sam breathes and his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he tucks the flash of fear away from his expression. "It's me, right? I'm attracting them here or something."
"We don't know that," Dean immediately rebuffs but he knows Sam can tell he doesn't really believe that anymore. The Wraith had very definitely taken Sam before, had started converting him into one of their own for whatever reason. They were being careful about coming in to raid the beta site which told them that whatever they wanted, they wanted intact.
It all makes a horrible kind of sense.
"We running?"
"We're sticking," Dean says and Sam nods, expression determined.
"Okay, then, I'm going to need a weapon... and probably some pants."
*
Carson and Rodney are fighting which isn't unusual. What piques Dean's interest is the way they keep shooting looks between Sam and Sheppard and their argument ebbs and flows with each glance. Dean, his zen broken which he usually always achieves when handling guns, finally barks, "Just what the hell ladies?"
Both Carson and Rodney startle like birds which would be funny in any other circumstance. Dean sees Sam and Sheppard look up from their own preparations, economical movements scarily similar. Ronon is outside the armory with Teyla.
"It might be why," Carson hisses out of the side of his mouth at Rodney, like everyone else in the room can't hear him.
"You don't know that, it was only a theory and an untested one at that," Rodney grumbles back and Dean fights the urge to point the M-90 in his hands at them and demand answers.
Just.
"Something we need to know?" Sheppard asks in that very special tone he has that would have greener recruits spilling their deepest, darkest secrets. Carson, admittedly, looks like he's ready to spill but Rodney just rolls his eyes and huffs.
"I always hated that term, need to know," Rodney starts to complain and Sheppard holds a hand up and slices it down, cutting the air and Rodney's speech as effectively.
"Rodney," Sheppard says, and that's a different voice, one obviously Sheppard spent long and hard on perfecting that manages to bypass Rodney's bluster and defences. His shoulders drop and his eyes skate away.
"Carson had found some anomolies with Sam... converted," Rodney winces and his eyes dart in Sam's direction before skipping away quickly. Sam just frowns at him. "Between him and a normal Wraith."
"Differences would be expected," Sam says, half-shrugging. "Considering your run-of-the-mill Wraith were evolved from bugs."
"True, but there were other... markers that were not present in a normal Wraith," Carson continues in Rodney's stead. "At first I thought it was just an effect of mutation, of the conversion failing but I think there was a different goal with you."
"Goal?" Sam prods, eyebrows arched almost into his hairline.
"We know all the Wraith woke up when John killed the queen," Carson says and this time it's Sheppard's turn to wince while Dean interjects with a, "Wait, what?"
"I killed a Queen Wraith, all the little soldier Wraith who'd been in hibernation woke up. I managed to make a pretty FUBAR situation worse, yes thank you Carson," Sheppard gets out between clenched teeth. Rodney moves to his side and taps him on the shoulder companiably.
"We've all nearly destroyed the universe, it happens," Rodney says, sounding almost too chipper about it and Sam and Dean just blink at each other before returning their attention to Carson when he clears his throat.
"Anyway," he continues. "Sure, the Wraith on that particular ship, that particular fleet woke up, but why all of them. The Wraith stationed at the very edges of Pegasus were as active as those in the immediate vicinity."
"I just figured it was some kind of alarm," Sheppard says haltingly, scuffing at the hair at the back of his neck in discomfort.
"Yes, exactly," Carson agrees, nodding. "We can't begin to claim we understand the true extent of the Wraith's telepathic link. Perhaps the Queen that Sheppard killed sent out some kind of distress call that woke everyone up."
"But everyone's awake," Dean says, scratching at the back of his head. "All the little Wraith are running around. You wouldn't need another alarm."
"No, but maybe it's possible there's an equal and opposite reaction in all this," Carson says and looks at them all like they know what he's talking about.
Sam seems to be the only one to get it, mostly because he's a giant geek who understands other giant geeks, Dean supposes. "You think a Queen could put everyone out again, right?"
"We have no way of knowing that for sure," Rodney interjects again. "As you said, we have no real idea about the reach of their telepathic connections, no way of understanding just what goes on in the Wraith's minds."
"Are you saying," Dean starts to say, biting his lip against one mother of an all-time shit-eating grin. Sam casts a dark glance at him because he obviously knows what's coming. "That they were trying to make Sam a... Queen Wraith?"
"Dean," Sam groans, exasperation dripping from the word.
"I mean yeah, I get it. Especially since you haven't had a hair cut in a while," Dean continues, greatly amusing himself. Sam leans over the table he was preparing weapons on and drops his forehead onto his arms.
"Why can't I make you hibernate with my brain," he grumbles, voice muffled because his mouth is pressed to his forearm.
"But he's not," Sheppard points out, waving a hand in Sam's general direction, or at least the defeated curve of his back. "We reversed what they did. He's got as much chance of putting the Wraith to sleep en masse as any of us do."
"He's not cured," Carson says and Dean feels cold all over at just those words.
"Say what?" he demands, advancing and Carson has enough self-preservation instinct to back up, even though Sam uncurls himself and steps into Dean's path, grasping his shoulders. He shakes Dean a little to get his attention.
"I have to take suppression meds," he says and that does get Dean's attention. "Without them... I don't know."
Dean leans around Sam, pointing a finger in Carson's direction. "I thought you fixed him," he snarls.
ooo
Dean's never been good at sticking around to hash things out so he retreats before he does something he'll regret, like popping Carson one right in the nose. Their father used to downplay injuries and Dean always hated it, hated being lied to just to protect him and he feels like that's what's being done here, that nobody wanted him to worry so they just patted him on the head and told him everything was fine.
"In a roundabout way, this is good news," Sheppard says, hunkering down next to where Dean thought he was hiding. Sheppard could've made a brilliant hunter the way he seemed to be able to just track people down like he did. When Sheppard squats, his knees pop and he groans, rubbing at them. "Goddamn," he complains. "Wish my body didn't feel the need to announce how much I'm not twenty anymore quite so loudly."
"How's this good news?" Dean grunts, dry-washing his face with his hands. He's interested to know what Sheppard has to say though because one thing Sheppard has is a tactical mind. Dean knows that Sheppard could find himself in a deep pit with only wet leaves at his disposal and he would still find a way to have the advantage over whoever was unlucky enough to think they'd gotten the best of him.
"Well, on the one hand we could say we have a potentially very powerful weapon against the Wraith," John begins and holds his hands up in a hear me out gesture when Dean levels a glare at him. "On the other hand, the Wraith think we have a very powerful weapon against the Wraith."
"I'm still waiting for the good part."
"It probably lowers the number of Wraith willing to come at us," John points out patiently. "And the ones that will are going to be damn careful about it."
"You don't think they'll come through in force," Dean says, not a question but an assumption.
"I think they'll send a small strike team, couple of the big bruisers and maybe one or two of the higher-ups. Better odds than an all-out assault."
"I hate that Sam's..." Dean makes a helpless gesture with his hands and he feels more than sees Sheppard nodding beside him.
"I have a brother," Sheppard says, taking Dean by surprise. "Sometimes I see the two of you and wish we could've been that close but then sometimes..." It's Sheppard's turn to make a helpless gesture.
"Yeah, I know," Dean huffs, very aware that from the outside, him and Sam being so wrapped up in each other would probably seem like a strange thing, more a burden than anything else. He knows they weren't raised the conventional way, had only each other for company for the most part and that's what forged their strong bond but it could be suffocating in some respects, Dean at the mercy of Sam in so many ways.
"After we deal with the Wraith that come through," Sheppard says and Dean likes that Sheppard doesn't make it an if statement but more a forgone conclusion. "We won't be able to stay here. We'll probably have to keep on the move until we can figure out either a way to get you boys back to Earth or something else."
Dean chuckles, knowing that even in another galaxy, he's destined to be a rambling man.
"On the road again," he says with a nod. "Story of my life."
ooo
Dean takes a certain kind of comfort in having Sam by his side, hunkered down behind makeshift cover with weapons trained on the Stargate. Sam's still not exactly fighting fit so he and Sam have been relegated to covering fire, Ronon and Teyla up further towards the 'gate and Sheppard behind, ready to take on any Wraith from close quarters.
Carson and Rodney are inside the infirmary, only to be tapped if the numbers really don't swing their way and the Wraith come through with more force than expected.
"No heroics," Dean growls and when he feels Sam's eyes on his ear he turns his head. "What?"
"They're not going to be trying to kill me," Sam points out and Dean rolls his eyes.
"You don't know that. The objective could be kill instead of capture."
"That would be bone-headed. Carson said the Wraith were on the point of starvation, too many awake at once. Who controls the hibernation controls the horde."
"If I were a Wraith I'd take you out, save the argument," Dean says. "Some weapons are just too volatile for anyone to handle."
"I know I should have told you-" Sam starts and Dean takes a hand off his P-90 for a second to hold it up, hold Sam's apology off.
"Remember what we always say before a fight," Dean interjects. "No apologies, no declarations. It's bad luck."
"We don't always say that," Sam says, pulling an exasperated face.
"We do now," Dean says. "New rule."
"You're an idiot."
"You're a bitch. Apparently even the Wraith know it."
"Shut up, jerk," Sam says and he's laughing when the gate activates and the Wraith come through.
000
There's six of the foot soldier Wraith and two of the big nasties like Sheppard had hoped and Teyla and Ronon knock the foot soldiers down to two before the second of the big guys even makes it through the wormhole.
They're taken by surprise, which is probably unusual for the Wraith and the rest of the fight is short and brutal. Dean gets to fire off a few rounds, but hardly enough to be satisfying and then all the Wraith are down and Rodney is scampering over to hopefully find their ticket out of there.
Rodney's triumphant yes as he unearths a small, blocky-looking device gives Dean hope that maybe this is all going to be over pretty soon.
Sam is sitting on the ground by the gate with his gun across his lap while Rodney works and Dean joins him, watching Ronon stalk about like a caged lion, obviously the short, sharp firefight not enough for him either.
"How did we even get here, man?" Sam asks, sounding a little shell-shocked and Dean half-shrugs.
"You're freaky brain, like always," he settles on and Sam makes a noise of agreement instead of arguing the point. Dean remembers sitting in an interview room back on Earth, snagged by what they thought were the feds at the time. He remembers the offer, clean slates in exchange for a little service, all because Sam could potentially bend spoons with his thoughts.
He remembers thinking that anywhere was going to be safer than where they were and how naive that way of thinking really was.
"You guys good?" Ronon asks on one of his passes and Dean nods up at him, Ronon temporarily blocking out the sun.
"He still looks like he has to punch something," Sam observes as Ronon moves away and Carson wisely clears a path for him, probably at a loss for what to do with himself since there was no real injuries on their side.
"We're good to go," Rodney announces from his spot hunched over the DHD. He squints up at Sheppard, always looking to him for direction. Sheppard's gaze finds Dean and he cants his head a little.
"Roadtrip?" he calls and Dean nods.
"Where are we going?" Sam asks, puzzled and Dean offers him a hand up when he's stood and brushed himself off.
"Away from here," Dean says and that's pretty much all he's certain of, for now.
By:
kellifer_ficFandom: SPN/SGA
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Crossover / Gen
Words: 5,700
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: All mistakes are mine. This is a continuation of My Daddy Didn't Have Days Like This and My Daddy Was A Soldier Man
"I'm bored."
"Does telling me that every twelve seconds help?" Sam asks, finally sounding irked which is what Dean was aiming for. He looks at Sam upside down from his bed, sitting at the metal table and chair balanced on its hind legs. Dean likes the constants about Sam, how he'd outgrown human-sized furniture at age sixteen and could only sit on a chair with his feet flat without his knees up around his ears if the seat was slanted up.
Stuff that didn't change with their zip code.
"Why is it-" Sam continues, "That we're in a different galaxy and I'm still stuck sharing a tiny room with you?"
Dean opens his mouth to point out that Sam was the one that just assumed they'd occupy the same space but then thinks better of it. He knows it will end in a fight, them living in each other's pockets like they are, and he doesn't want to go there. He doesn't want Sam to pull a bitchface, pack his stuff and move into a room at the other side of the compound just to win an argument.
He likes having Sam where he can see him, can't really relax without line of sight.
"Whatever, you love it," Dean says instead and watches Sam's mouth tug up at the corners. "Now if there's any games on that then hand it over," Dean demands, making grab-hands at the tablet Sam's been messing with for the past hour.
"You really think an Airforce Officer would have solitaire loaded on his handheld?" Sam asks, rolling his eyes.
"What are you doing then?" Dean asks, suspicious.
Sam ducks his head and mumbles something that sounds astoundingly like Minesweeper.
"I knew it!" Dean chortles and launches himself from the bed.
The ensuing wrestling match might not win him the prized handheld but it does actually mean he's not bored.
"How is Sam?" Teyla asks, settling down next to Dean who's sprawled under the only tree in the area. He's been watching Sheppard and Ronon have a very heated argument about which Bond was the best one and wondering just why he disliked Sheppard so intensley when they first met.
He supposes it might be because Sheppard was basically his dad, just with about ten years and a wife's brutal murder peeled off.
"You could ask Sam," Dean points out and Teyla offers him the kind of smile he thinks translates to don't be dense.
"I do ask Sam and he says he's fine. I ask you how you are and you say fine. I'm trying a different tactic."
"Y'know," Dean says, rubs a hand across his face. "I was totally lied to by Star Trek. You should be blue."
"Changing the subject is a form of evasion I am very used to with John. I do not, as you say, buy it."
"He's fine," Dean says and then grimaces when Teyla narrows her eyes at him. "There's some residual... oddness, but Sammy's always been a little weird."
Teyla makes a contemplative sound and leans back so her shoulder is pressed into Dean's. They both watch as Sheppard and Ronon try to get Rodney to pick sides who very loudly and in great detail, tells them both exactly how much he doesn't care while he works on fixing the water filtration system that will prevent them all dying horribly filled to bursting with parasites.
Dean tries not to feel like he's missing something but he resolve to watch Sam closer.
Dean wakes with the dawn.
It's an annoying leftover from early morning drills with his father and brother, John Winchester a big believer in a heart attack before breakfast and therefore thinking up elaborate ways to wake his sons that threatened their very sanity. Dean became an early riser out of self preservation and then was never able to shake the habit.
What's bad about the Beta site is that sunrise is actually in the middle of the night by Pegasus Adjusted time and so four hours before Dean's due to actually get up for his watch.
He rolls out of bed, pulls his boots on and a long sleeve shirt to ward off the morning chill and checks Sam. His younger brother is sleeping peacefully, on his stomach with an arm dangling over the side of the cot. Dean tucks it back onto the bed and then makes sure the blankets are pulled to Sam's shoulders before heading out.
They're only a small group, but Dean knows someone will be up. He sees Ronon, a dark silhouette on a raised ridge at the border of the compound. He's heading that way when he hears the unmistakable sounds of McKay cursing and throwing things. Dean changes course and finds MacKay near their gate, a panel in the DHD pulled open with its innards spilled out on the ground. MacKay is sucking his fingers and scowling at the thing like its being deliberately difficult.
"You've got that look," Dean says, kicking gently at MacKay's feet when he fails to notice Dean's arrival.
"What look?" McKay asks, words garbled because he still has his index and middle fingers in his mouth.
"The look you usually get before you announce that something truly horrible has happened," Dean says, adding, "Or is about to."
"I've got a look for that?" McKay asks, finally yanking his fingers free and squinting up at Dean.
"Sam gets the same look right before he tells me that we have to dance naked under the moonlight to rid ourselves of the monster of the week," Dean says and when McKay arches an eyebrow at him, Dean grimaces. "Only happened the once and not the point," he says hurriedly. "What's up?"
"I'm getting nothing when I'm trying to dial Atlantis," Rodney says. His hands hover over the exposed wires of the DHD and Dean figures he was sucking his fingers because he'd gotten a shock and was a little hesitant to dive back in.
"Engaged signal?" Dean asks, hunkering down.
"No," McKay huffs. "Nothing. It's acting like the address doesn't exist."
"You tried dialling other places?" Dean asks and gets a raised eyebrow for his trouble.
"No, I didn't try that because I'm a complete moron," McKay says snippily. "It's like nothing's out there."
"Can others dial in?"
"If I wanted to be peppered with inane questions I would have let Ronon keep talking to me fifteen minutes ago," McKay snaps, but Dean recognises that McKay only gets truly snippy when he doesn't know the answers to very obvious questions. Dean just waits patiently while McKay huffs around before he finally admits, "I can't tell but I don't think so."
"Could it just be a fault with the DHD or the gate?" Dean presses and McKay gestures at the exposed insides of the DHD.
"I'm not giving myself very excruciating shocks for fun. I'm trying to figure that out."
"Why don't we leave the prickly scientist to do his thing?" Dean feels a hand clamp on his shoulder and turns his head to look up at Sheppard, haloed in the dawn light. Dean nods and stands, his knees popping. Sheppard hands him a tin cup of coffee even though Dean could've sworn they were out last week. He takes a sip and then pulls a face because it's decaf which is worse than having none.
The two men edge away from McKay and Dean feels Sheppard's gaze on his face. He's still looking at McKay though and Sheppard finally kicks at his foot much in the same way Dean did to McKay just a few minutes ago.
"I've thought of that too," Sheppard says and Dean finally tears his eyes away from McKay to look at Sheppard's grim expression. It looks a little out of place considering Sheppard mostly gives off the impression of laidback abandon but Dean can recognize a man that will grim-down when the need arises.
He's heard the stories about Sheppard taking on an invasion force single-handedly and basically handing their asses to them.
"First thing you do is cut off communications and any avenue of retreat," Dean says, his attention being dragged back to the silent gate. "When you're planning an attack."
"He's been around the military long enough to know that too," Sheppard says, jerking his chin in McKay's direction. "This is just him coping."
"How long do we have to be overdue before Atlantis does something about it?"
"Ten days," Sheppard says. "And it's not like after that they can just pop over and check on us with the gate out of commission."
"So we're basically on our own?"
"Pretty much, yeah."
"You think it's the Wraith?" Carson asks the obvious question.
They've gathered while Sam is on watch. He'd been so jazzed to finally get to take a watch on his own that he hadn't even questioned it. He'd practically bowled Dean over heading for the door and the solitude that he hadn't been allowed since they first hit Pegasus, having to be babysat in one form or another for the entire time.
Dean still feels a little skeezy leaving Sam out on his own so they can discuss what's happening.
"Do I think it's the only other race in this galaxy with a working knowledge of the gate system? Hmm, let me think about it," Rodney snarks.
"Aye Rodney, sarcasm always helps," Carson sighs and Dean sees Carson roll his eyes and turn his attention to Teyla. "I meant is this a usual Wraith strategy? I figured them more as the brute force type."
"Carson is right to question," Teyla says. "If they knew we were here and wanted us either dead or captured, they would have sent great numbers to overwhelm us quickly."
"They've gotta know we know they're coming," John says, scratching at the back of his head and frowning in a way that Dean has come to recognize as John flipping through his mental rolodex of tactics.
"It is not like the Wraith to tread with caution. They have infinite numbers at their disposal, especially since they have all awakened from slumber," Teyla continues and Dean sees John wince just the tiniest bit, a blink-and-you'd-miss-it micro expression. He's left wondering what the story is behind that.
Dean feels the weight of everyone's attention and he slams the heel of his palm on the table they're all sitting at. "We can't just assume it's because of Sam," he snaps because he knows that's exactly what everyone's thinking.
He hates himself for thinking it too.
Before anyone can comment, the tell-tale sound of the gate activating starts up. Rodney swears colourfully, tossing his chair back but Dean's already out of his seat and heading for the door, John right on his ass.
He hits daylight and sees Sam hurtling down the hill towards the gate at a dead run with Ronon's blaster in hand, much closer than any of them. The gate connects and Dean sees something small, round and metallic sail through it. "Sammy!" Dean screams because Sam is still heading towards the gate. Sam skids to a stop just as the small metallic ball hits the ground once, bounces and explodes.
"It didn't hit anything major," Carson says, scrubbing at his hands and looking over his shoulder at Dean.
"It hit Sam," Dean growls. "Can't get more major than that."
"I understand you're upset," Carson starts to say and he's using the soothing, medical tone that has always made Dean see red.
"I'm miles, continents past upset," Dean yells, fighting the urge to just grab Carson and shake him because right now Sam needs a doctor that hasn't had his brains rattled about.
"I have to monitor for primary injuries," Carson says. "We know he has a secondary injury-" When Dean just glares at him, Carson amends, "Shrapnel in his leg but I need to make sure he has no lung or gastrointestinal injuries which can present hours or even days after."
"We have to get away from the gate," Dean argues.
"I don't want him to move for at least a day," Carson says and repeats, "At least."
John is at Dean's shoulder and he scrubs a hand over his face. "I don't want to risk Sam but Dean's right. We're pretty powerless at the moment and it seems like someone is content to dial us up and lob stuff at us. I'm betting the yield is going to steadily increase until they're sure we're just black smears on the landscape."
"We can make a stretcher and carry his big ass," Dean adds.
"You can do what you like but Sam stays put."
Dean looks over his shoulder at John. "You didn't think bringing a puddlejumper through with us would be a good idea?" he gripes.
John pulls a face back at him and rolls his eyes. "Well I do now," he says.
Teyla pokes her head around the curtain Carson had pulled around Sam's bed and Carson throws up his hands. "That's it, everyone out," he snaps, putting his arms out and herding backwards, collecting Ronon who'd appeared on the other side with them. The only one missing was Rodney who had muttered something about rigging some kind of shield and looking particularly manic before he'd disappeared who knew where.
Once they're all out in the main area of the infirmary, Carson crosses his arms. "I'm not going to change my mind about moving him," he says, sounding downright snippy for Carson. "No matter if you all gang up on me."
"I do not think we should," Teyla says and holds up her hand when she notices Dean is about to protest, vehemently. "Ronon reminded me that I mispoke when I said that I had not seen this tactic employed by the Wraith before."
"Oh?" John raises his eyebrows and makes a do explain gesture with his hand.
"Most smaller settlements are built up around the ancestral ring. It makes trade easier and also the rings tend to be placed in the most temperate areas of a planet. We are not sure if this was a deliberate decision by the Ancients or chance."
"But it's risky," John interjects. "Without a shield, if invaders come through then they arrive in the middle of your town."
"It is a risk most are willing to take for the benefits. Some controlled by the Wraith were also instructed to live close by."
"This is all fascinating," Dean starts to say but quiets when Ronon puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.
"The Wraith will deliberately... encourage the people to scatter away from the ring if they have a specific item they need to procure and they cannot risk it being damaged or lost by coming in force."
"We're back to Sam again, aren't we?" Dean demands, shaking off Ronon's hand.
"You can't ignore the obvious," Ronon says with a shrug and Dean just scowls at him because he knows he's more likely right than not. Sam had always been a magnet for trouble back on Earth and it is in no way comforting to find that he didn't shake that particular quirk by leaving the solar system behind.
"If we leave the gate, they will come through in great numbers. Our only chance is to stay close by and force them to send a small raiding party so we can find out exactly what they want and perhaps reestablish a connection to the gate system."
"They can tell where we are?" John asks Teyla who nods. "That's an unpleasant thought."
"We must arm ourselves and be ready," Teyla says grimly. Everyone jumps when Ronon claps his hands together, a loud sound that breaks the tension.
"Awesome," he says and John snorts and pokes Dean in the shoulder.
"I blame you," he says.
"As much as I hate to admit it, Teyla's right," Rodney is saying to John when Dean joins them, about to make a case for just running like hell again. He's heard the stories about John taking out raiding parties with nothing but gum and a swiss army knife and no matter how far from the truth it is or close, Dean isn't willing to risk Sam to test the eggagerations.
He clamps his mouth shut when he hears Rodney who is usually always on the run for your lives bandwagon. "You're actually saying we should make a stand?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.
Both John and Rodney turn to him and Dean knows from personal experience that they've probably had a lot more conversation than verbal about this very thing. He has that kind of shorthand with Sam, decisions made in the blink of an eye and anyone on the outside left mystified. It's a shorthand he misses since Sam has grown more distant of late, increasingly worried about his role in basically marooning himself and Dean in an alien landscape.
"If the Wraith come through in force, they'll come through in Darts and just scoop us up. If they're sending a small raiding party they'll do it on foot."
"Yeah, I get why that's slightly better odds but-"
"It's not about the odds," Rodney interjects, waving a dismissive hand. "The Darts have dial devices inbuilt like our Puddlejumpers do. If the Wraith come through on foot they'll have to bring through something so they can get off the planet again, a way of negating whatever the hell it is they've done to cut us off."
"It's our only chance to get off the planet." John nods.
"They may have a way of remotely locking down certain gates. I can't find any frequency being emitted but I'm not ruling that out. The only thing we know for certain is that they wouldn't step foot on this planet unless they had a way of getting off again."
"What if they're sending through ground troops and getting a big ass mothership to pick them up later so they don't use the gate to get back at all?" Dean asks and Rodney frowns at him while John bites his lip.
"He's got a point," John says, rubbing at the back of his head.
"That's... a possibility, yes," Rodney admits. "I hate to say this but for one of the few occassions in my life, I'm out of any other ideas. There's only so much a man can do, even a certified genuius, given limited equipment and time."
Dean just looks at them both for a beat and then sighs heavily. "If they get Sam again-"
"They won't," John says grimly and Dean holds John's grim gaze for a moment before he nods.
"I thought Carson wasn't done wrapping you in cotton wool," Dean says, catching Sam timidly edging out of the makeshift infirmary, shouldering a robe on and curling bare toes against the chill in the ground.
"I staged a jail break," Sam says, grinning sheepishly. "It was very daring, you should have been there."
"You waited till he fell asleep, didn't you?"
"Face down on his desk, absolutely," Sam says and winces when he nods. Dean makes a noise of protest and goes to put a shoulder under Sam's but he leans away, waving Dean off. "I'm fine," he grumbles. "Had worse."
"I don't remember you ever being blown up before kiddo," Dean says and Sam rolls his eyes, reminding Dean of his sixteen year old self for a moment so strongly that Dean is almost dizzy with the nostalgia of it.
"We know what that was?" Sam asks, changing topics as elegantly as he ever did and making a leave me be or I'll hurt you gesture with his arm until Dean backs up and lets him totter along the wall, trailing a hand in the direction of their building.
"An explosive of some sort," Dean hedges and Sam spares a moment to just stare at him.
"Yeah, I figured that with the whole blowing up," he snaps. He narrows his eyes and Dean's own gaze skips away. Dean's got an excellent poker face when it comes to bilking soldiers and truckers out of their hard-earned cash but he's never really been able to get anything by Sam or his dad. They have some kind of similar inbuilt Winchester bullshit detector.
"What aren't you telling me?" Sam demands, halting his steady but painful-looking progress to give Dean his full attention.
"It's probably Wraith," Dean admits. "Or... definitely Wraith."
"Shit," Sam breathes and his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he tucks the flash of fear away from his expression. "It's me, right? I'm attracting them here or something."
"We don't know that," Dean immediately rebuffs but he knows Sam can tell he doesn't really believe that anymore. The Wraith had very definitely taken Sam before, had started converting him into one of their own for whatever reason. They were being careful about coming in to raid the beta site which told them that whatever they wanted, they wanted intact.
It all makes a horrible kind of sense.
"We running?"
"We're sticking," Dean says and Sam nods, expression determined.
"Okay, then, I'm going to need a weapon... and probably some pants."
Carson and Rodney are fighting which isn't unusual. What piques Dean's interest is the way they keep shooting looks between Sam and Sheppard and their argument ebbs and flows with each glance. Dean, his zen broken which he usually always achieves when handling guns, finally barks, "Just what the hell ladies?"
Both Carson and Rodney startle like birds which would be funny in any other circumstance. Dean sees Sam and Sheppard look up from their own preparations, economical movements scarily similar. Ronon is outside the armory with Teyla.
"It might be why," Carson hisses out of the side of his mouth at Rodney, like everyone else in the room can't hear him.
"You don't know that, it was only a theory and an untested one at that," Rodney grumbles back and Dean fights the urge to point the M-90 in his hands at them and demand answers.
Just.
"Something we need to know?" Sheppard asks in that very special tone he has that would have greener recruits spilling their deepest, darkest secrets. Carson, admittedly, looks like he's ready to spill but Rodney just rolls his eyes and huffs.
"I always hated that term, need to know," Rodney starts to complain and Sheppard holds a hand up and slices it down, cutting the air and Rodney's speech as effectively.
"Rodney," Sheppard says, and that's a different voice, one obviously Sheppard spent long and hard on perfecting that manages to bypass Rodney's bluster and defences. His shoulders drop and his eyes skate away.
"Carson had found some anomolies with Sam... converted," Rodney winces and his eyes dart in Sam's direction before skipping away quickly. Sam just frowns at him. "Between him and a normal Wraith."
"Differences would be expected," Sam says, half-shrugging. "Considering your run-of-the-mill Wraith were evolved from bugs."
"True, but there were other... markers that were not present in a normal Wraith," Carson continues in Rodney's stead. "At first I thought it was just an effect of mutation, of the conversion failing but I think there was a different goal with you."
"Goal?" Sam prods, eyebrows arched almost into his hairline.
"We know all the Wraith woke up when John killed the queen," Carson says and this time it's Sheppard's turn to wince while Dean interjects with a, "Wait, what?"
"I killed a Queen Wraith, all the little soldier Wraith who'd been in hibernation woke up. I managed to make a pretty FUBAR situation worse, yes thank you Carson," Sheppard gets out between clenched teeth. Rodney moves to his side and taps him on the shoulder companiably.
"We've all nearly destroyed the universe, it happens," Rodney says, sounding almost too chipper about it and Sam and Dean just blink at each other before returning their attention to Carson when he clears his throat.
"Anyway," he continues. "Sure, the Wraith on that particular ship, that particular fleet woke up, but why all of them. The Wraith stationed at the very edges of Pegasus were as active as those in the immediate vicinity."
"I just figured it was some kind of alarm," Sheppard says haltingly, scuffing at the hair at the back of his neck in discomfort.
"Yes, exactly," Carson agrees, nodding. "We can't begin to claim we understand the true extent of the Wraith's telepathic link. Perhaps the Queen that Sheppard killed sent out some kind of distress call that woke everyone up."
"But everyone's awake," Dean says, scratching at the back of his head. "All the little Wraith are running around. You wouldn't need another alarm."
"No, but maybe it's possible there's an equal and opposite reaction in all this," Carson says and looks at them all like they know what he's talking about.
Sam seems to be the only one to get it, mostly because he's a giant geek who understands other giant geeks, Dean supposes. "You think a Queen could put everyone out again, right?"
"We have no way of knowing that for sure," Rodney interjects again. "As you said, we have no real idea about the reach of their telepathic connections, no way of understanding just what goes on in the Wraith's minds."
"Are you saying," Dean starts to say, biting his lip against one mother of an all-time shit-eating grin. Sam casts a dark glance at him because he obviously knows what's coming. "That they were trying to make Sam a... Queen Wraith?"
"Dean," Sam groans, exasperation dripping from the word.
"I mean yeah, I get it. Especially since you haven't had a hair cut in a while," Dean continues, greatly amusing himself. Sam leans over the table he was preparing weapons on and drops his forehead onto his arms.
"Why can't I make you hibernate with my brain," he grumbles, voice muffled because his mouth is pressed to his forearm.
"But he's not," Sheppard points out, waving a hand in Sam's general direction, or at least the defeated curve of his back. "We reversed what they did. He's got as much chance of putting the Wraith to sleep en masse as any of us do."
"He's not cured," Carson says and Dean feels cold all over at just those words.
"Say what?" he demands, advancing and Carson has enough self-preservation instinct to back up, even though Sam uncurls himself and steps into Dean's path, grasping his shoulders. He shakes Dean a little to get his attention.
"I have to take suppression meds," he says and that does get Dean's attention. "Without them... I don't know."
Dean leans around Sam, pointing a finger in Carson's direction. "I thought you fixed him," he snarls.
Dean's never been good at sticking around to hash things out so he retreats before he does something he'll regret, like popping Carson one right in the nose. Their father used to downplay injuries and Dean always hated it, hated being lied to just to protect him and he feels like that's what's being done here, that nobody wanted him to worry so they just patted him on the head and told him everything was fine.
"In a roundabout way, this is good news," Sheppard says, hunkering down next to where Dean thought he was hiding. Sheppard could've made a brilliant hunter the way he seemed to be able to just track people down like he did. When Sheppard squats, his knees pop and he groans, rubbing at them. "Goddamn," he complains. "Wish my body didn't feel the need to announce how much I'm not twenty anymore quite so loudly."
"How's this good news?" Dean grunts, dry-washing his face with his hands. He's interested to know what Sheppard has to say though because one thing Sheppard has is a tactical mind. Dean knows that Sheppard could find himself in a deep pit with only wet leaves at his disposal and he would still find a way to have the advantage over whoever was unlucky enough to think they'd gotten the best of him.
"Well, on the one hand we could say we have a potentially very powerful weapon against the Wraith," John begins and holds his hands up in a hear me out gesture when Dean levels a glare at him. "On the other hand, the Wraith think we have a very powerful weapon against the Wraith."
"I'm still waiting for the good part."
"It probably lowers the number of Wraith willing to come at us," John points out patiently. "And the ones that will are going to be damn careful about it."
"You don't think they'll come through in force," Dean says, not a question but an assumption.
"I think they'll send a small strike team, couple of the big bruisers and maybe one or two of the higher-ups. Better odds than an all-out assault."
"I hate that Sam's..." Dean makes a helpless gesture with his hands and he feels more than sees Sheppard nodding beside him.
"I have a brother," Sheppard says, taking Dean by surprise. "Sometimes I see the two of you and wish we could've been that close but then sometimes..." It's Sheppard's turn to make a helpless gesture.
"Yeah, I know," Dean huffs, very aware that from the outside, him and Sam being so wrapped up in each other would probably seem like a strange thing, more a burden than anything else. He knows they weren't raised the conventional way, had only each other for company for the most part and that's what forged their strong bond but it could be suffocating in some respects, Dean at the mercy of Sam in so many ways.
"After we deal with the Wraith that come through," Sheppard says and Dean likes that Sheppard doesn't make it an if statement but more a forgone conclusion. "We won't be able to stay here. We'll probably have to keep on the move until we can figure out either a way to get you boys back to Earth or something else."
Dean chuckles, knowing that even in another galaxy, he's destined to be a rambling man.
"On the road again," he says with a nod. "Story of my life."
Dean takes a certain kind of comfort in having Sam by his side, hunkered down behind makeshift cover with weapons trained on the Stargate. Sam's still not exactly fighting fit so he and Sam have been relegated to covering fire, Ronon and Teyla up further towards the 'gate and Sheppard behind, ready to take on any Wraith from close quarters.
Carson and Rodney are inside the infirmary, only to be tapped if the numbers really don't swing their way and the Wraith come through with more force than expected.
"No heroics," Dean growls and when he feels Sam's eyes on his ear he turns his head. "What?"
"They're not going to be trying to kill me," Sam points out and Dean rolls his eyes.
"You don't know that. The objective could be kill instead of capture."
"That would be bone-headed. Carson said the Wraith were on the point of starvation, too many awake at once. Who controls the hibernation controls the horde."
"If I were a Wraith I'd take you out, save the argument," Dean says. "Some weapons are just too volatile for anyone to handle."
"I know I should have told you-" Sam starts and Dean takes a hand off his P-90 for a second to hold it up, hold Sam's apology off.
"Remember what we always say before a fight," Dean interjects. "No apologies, no declarations. It's bad luck."
"We don't always say that," Sam says, pulling an exasperated face.
"We do now," Dean says. "New rule."
"You're an idiot."
"You're a bitch. Apparently even the Wraith know it."
"Shut up, jerk," Sam says and he's laughing when the gate activates and the Wraith come through.
There's six of the foot soldier Wraith and two of the big nasties like Sheppard had hoped and Teyla and Ronon knock the foot soldiers down to two before the second of the big guys even makes it through the wormhole.
They're taken by surprise, which is probably unusual for the Wraith and the rest of the fight is short and brutal. Dean gets to fire off a few rounds, but hardly enough to be satisfying and then all the Wraith are down and Rodney is scampering over to hopefully find their ticket out of there.
Rodney's triumphant yes as he unearths a small, blocky-looking device gives Dean hope that maybe this is all going to be over pretty soon.
Sam is sitting on the ground by the gate with his gun across his lap while Rodney works and Dean joins him, watching Ronon stalk about like a caged lion, obviously the short, sharp firefight not enough for him either.
"How did we even get here, man?" Sam asks, sounding a little shell-shocked and Dean half-shrugs.
"You're freaky brain, like always," he settles on and Sam makes a noise of agreement instead of arguing the point. Dean remembers sitting in an interview room back on Earth, snagged by what they thought were the feds at the time. He remembers the offer, clean slates in exchange for a little service, all because Sam could potentially bend spoons with his thoughts.
He remembers thinking that anywhere was going to be safer than where they were and how naive that way of thinking really was.
"You guys good?" Ronon asks on one of his passes and Dean nods up at him, Ronon temporarily blocking out the sun.
"He still looks like he has to punch something," Sam observes as Ronon moves away and Carson wisely clears a path for him, probably at a loss for what to do with himself since there was no real injuries on their side.
"We're good to go," Rodney announces from his spot hunched over the DHD. He squints up at Sheppard, always looking to him for direction. Sheppard's gaze finds Dean and he cants his head a little.
"Roadtrip?" he calls and Dean nods.
"Where are we going?" Sam asks, puzzled and Dean offers him a hand up when he's stood and brushed himself off.
"Away from here," Dean says and that's pretty much all he's certain of, for now.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
The only problem is now I want more.
From:
no subject
Sorry it took so long and I will have podfic for you soon!
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
And 'roadtrip'! Oh, boys.
Awesome to see this again! Wheeeee!
From:
no subject
From:
Edition #2,016
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
All around enjoyable. =]
From:
no subject