All Worlds Converge To Where You Are (1/8), SGA/Supernatural crossover
Title: All Worlds Converge To Where You Are
Word count: 45 800
Rating: NC-17 overall
Fandom: Crossover of Stargate Atlantis (5.19 Vegas) and Supernatural (5.04 The End, the fic starts in 2012)
Pairings: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, John Sheppard/Dean Winchester, brief John/OFC, allusions to Dean/Castiel (also with Bobby, Sam, Chuck, etc)
Warnings: None that I would think of.
Summary:
A viral infection turning normal citizens into homicidal maniacs, called the Croatoan disease, is spreading across the United States. Not quite ready to sign up for the Stargate program as Rodney McKay suggests, former Las Vegas detective John Sheppard instead joins a para-military organization based at Camp Chitaqua, led by Dean Winchester. There, he soon learns that the world is even more fucked up than he thought. Between fighting to help stop the apocalypse, and the pull of the stars, John tries to find his place.
Master Fic Post (link to all chapters, art, fan mix and notes)
All Worlds Converge To Where You Are
A loud clatter jolts John awake. Immediately, he grabs his gun and pushes the comforter aside, listening intently. There is no other suspicious sound, but that doesn't mean that nothing fishy is going on. John gets up and slowly opens the door to Anna's room, glances in. He can make out her little form on the bed, sleeping peacefully, so he closes the door and decides to go investigate.
Bill should be downstairs, on guard duty; maybe he went to see what is going on. It can't hurt to double check, so John slowly makes his way to the kitchen, thinking that if it turns out to be another false alarm, he could go for a sandwich anyway. But everything is silent, too silent. Bill generally hums or plays with his Game Boy so John isn't surprised to see the kitchen empty. John draws his gun, checks towards the bathroom, but nothing. Something is definitely not right. John whistles softly the little tune they agreed on, but there is no answer.
He goes towards the back door and when he finds it unlocked, John pushes the curtains aside, and the moonlight makes the backyard almost as clear as day. The door is unlatched, meaning Bill went out and didn't tell him. John curses under his breath, he thought the guy had a bit more common sense and could respect the rules they have for safety. He opens the door, whistles again and hopes that Bill just got cabin fever and will come back with a bad joke, but no dice. John is furious and tempted to lock him outside to teach him a lesson; he'll stay right here to open if he comes back. But John can't help it, he has to go see if Bill's okay.
As silently as he can, John opens the door and slides outsides, keeping in the shadows. Once again everything is too silent, save for the crickets chirping. That's when John realizes that Bling didn't come when he whistled either, which is very bad. The guard dog is so starved for attention that he usually bounds to the door every time John opens it, hungry for a scratch behind the ears and someone to play with. If Bling isn't here to play and not barking enough to raise people from the dead, it's because something happened to him. Doubling his care, John's peeking around the corner when his eyes fall on a dark smudge on the ground, maybe 15 feet further, that looks awfully like blood.
John ducks and runs to have a better look, couching beside the wall of the flower bed next to the puddle, and isn't surprised to see there are parallel lines on the ground leading away, obviously from the feet of a body that has been dragged from its execution place. With the amount of blood, there's no hope for Bill, and John curses his stupidity. Bill knew better not to go investigate on his own, even if it looked harmless, and now he's dead. The question is: what are the Croats planning now? They've obviously targeted the Martin's house and planned their attack carefully. John once again thinks that it's just not fair that a fucking virus that turns people homicidal and psychotic doesn't even have the decency to make them zombie slow. They're fast, determined and way too smart.
It's obvious that they knew the Martin's house was guarded with hired help, and took time to take off the dog and the guard, so they're probably planning to get in the house tonight. But John didn't see a thing from the kitchen to here, so they're planning to get in elsewhere, which doesn't make any sense until he hears glass breaking, coming from the other side of the house, and most probably up on the second floor where the bedrooms are. His suspicions are confirmed when he hears Mrs Martin cry out in terror, and he's up and running before his next breath. John rushes to the kitchen, climbs the stairs four by four, and he's running towards the master bedroom. It opens up to reveal a man whom he's never seen, so without even wasting as second, he guns him down.
Mrs Martin is sobbing now, and John hears another gunshot but that doesn't stop him from barging into the room, ready to kill. What he sees is Mr Martin, still holding up a little silver gun, and a second Croat, sprawled across the bed with a new hole in the forehead. Mrs Martin is scrambling back on the floor towards the closet, and Mr Martin turns his gun towards John, eyes wild. Automatically, John raises a placating hand although he keeps his gun aimed himself.
"It's me. I got the other one. It's okay."
It's like the words jolt Mr Martin out of his shock state.
"How can you say that? Where the fuck were you? Is Anna..."
John looks back, but their daughter's door is still closed, with no suspicious sounds, so she should be fine. He starts to move that way to check when Mrs Martin beats him to it.
"Anna!" she cries out, getting up and running past John who steps aside.
His heart pummels when he realizes Mrs Martin has a knife wound on one leg, her nightgown spotted with blood. He swivels his eyes to Mr Martin, who turns white too, and they both look at the Croat across the bed and at the bloody knife that fell from his limp hand on the floor. The blade was probably contaminated. Shit.
"He got me, too," Martin tells John, showing him a cut on his forearm, visibly shaking from the enormity of what it means.
"Maybe the blade wasn't..." John starts, but it's token protestation and they both know it. Martin puts the gun down on the dresser and starts to take out the drawers, throwing the contents on the floor, and un-tapes thick envelopes from the underside of them, tossing them on the bed.
"There's a duffel in the closet," he says. "Get it, John. Quick."
The problem is that John knows what he's supposed to do. Eliminate anyone compromised, and visibly both the Martin's are. They only have a couple of hours and then they'll start to turn and it won't be pretty. On the other hand, there is a slight chance the blade was clean and if he monitors them closely... Maybe they could make it to one of the quarantine centers.
But when John turns back from the closet and meets Martin's eyes, he sees it won't be that easy. Martin's got a determined look, jaw tense and even if he's doing everything he can to keep a facade, John has seen despair and resignation before. Martin knows he's screwed.
"You're going to take Anna and find somewhere safe," he declares.
A shiver of horror goes down John's spine. He can't do it, it's too much. She's too small and he's going to fuck this all up. He starts to shake his head no.
"Come on, we can all go..." John protests.
"Shut up," Martin hisses. "I pay you to protect us, and look at this!" he says, gesturing at his arm and the dead Croat on the floor. "The least you can do is try to save my daughter!"
It's like a blow to the gut because the guy is right, he failed. He blinks, not knowing what to say to that and Martin grabs the duffel from John's hands and fills it with the money, can't be anything else, and then walks briskly to his daughter's room. John follows, reluctant to see Mrs Martin in tears and hysterical, but no, she seems calm now, rocking her little girl gently. Anna's the one sniffling.
"Shh baby, it's okay. Daddy and Mister John made sure we are safe now," she says, kissing Anna's head.
In the meantime, Mr Martin is pulling clothes from Anna's dresser and filling the duffel, before zipping it up. He deposits it on the floor and goes to hug his daughter and wife, and even from the room's threshold, and doing his best to not intrude, John can see him shake. They should be on the move already, gun shots attract Croats and there must still be a ladder leading right in. Oh and fuck, the kitchen door. John fidgets, but can't help but overhear Martin.
"You're so brave, princess," Martin tells Anna. "And you'll have to be really strong now, do you hear me?" Anna nods. Martin kisses her forehead, laughs shakily. "Yeah, that's my girl. Now you're going to go with Mister John, okay? He'll bring you somewhere where there are no bad guys."
Not able to take it anymore, John goes to pack his own backpack, stuffing in what's somewhat clean - the little he has anyway - and the gear he's accumulated in the last couple of years of madness: a couple of holsters and knife sheaths, a TAC vest to hold the ammo, his second favorite gun... He'd left behind everything from his past but his nickel-plated pearl-handled .45 and his ID, and that he keeps just because of the government's paranoia. He's surprised that they haven't all been implanted with chips that change color when people are infected by the Croatoan virus, for better extermination purposes.
When there's no way to delay it anymore, John goes back to Anna's room. John can see Mrs Martin take a deep breath and summon from somewhere a calm smile. She always was pretty, even if a bit too much on the tacky side, shamelessly trying to flirt with John when her husband was out. He didn't take it seriously as she was probably bored out of her skull, trapped in a house which had been turned into a bunker and having only a 6 year old and mercenaries for company. John had not really got into the game, as his flirting ways had been irremediably altered in Afghanistan, like so many other things. But right now, with her bloodied nightgown, no make up, and wild hair, saying goodbye to her only child and acting brave, Katia's heartbreakingly beautiful. John knows what will happen when he leaves with the girl, that the Martins will wait until they're out of earshot to end it. It's the thing to do, what he'd do himself anyway. He's just glad that he's not the one who'll have to pull the trigger; he'd been treated okay here.
The Martins whisper to Anna and kiss her repeatedly, and the kid's not stupid and knows something's really wrong. She clings to her mom when Martin tells her it's time to go, and John sees Martin doesn't have the heart to pry away her little fingers. But time is passing and with each minute, the danger ratchets up. If he wants to make it, John has to go right now. He takes a deep breath and goes to them, kneels on the floor near the bed and takes Mr Fluffy who had fallen on the ground. He nudges the plush white cat against Anna's shoulder and she turns her big black eyes towards him, her little fists still tangled in her mom's shirt, near her mouth.
"Hey Squirt," he says softly. "What about you, me and Mister Fluffy go for a ride? Huh? Ever gone real fast in a car in the middle of the night?"
She examines him and he stays serious, knowing a smile would not come out reassuring right now. She finally nods and then links her little arms around his neck so he hoists her to him and stands up, settling her on his hip. Katia follows, and gives her daughter a last hug and kiss, caressing Anna's hair.
"That's it baby. John will keep you safe," Katia looks at John with a confidence he doesn't deserve but he nods anyway.
"I swear," he says, voice rough, although he knows he should not promise the impossible. But he'll try, if it's the last thing he does.
After that it goes very fast, at last, hurrying to the garage where Katia takes back Anna to buckle her up on the front seat of the Cadillac Escalade as John and Martin put their bags in the back, with guns and rifles in the well behind the passenger front seat where John can reach if he needs to. The SUV's trunk is already loaded with food and jerry cans of fuel, prepped a long time ago for an emergency escape they all hoped would never have to happen. Then it's more brave goodbyes, John nodding gravely when he meets the Martin's eyes. He climbs in the vehicle and that's it, they are ready to go.
Anna is clutching Mr Fluffy to her chest, sitting square in her seat, eyes fixed resolutely forwards. She looks so much like her mom right now, being brave at all costs. John knows that there probably will be Croats in the street and that it's not going to be pretty. He has no intention of slowing down and figures he'll just plough his way through, and the girl doesn't need that trauma on top.
"Is Mister Fluffy scared?" he asks.
She nods, holding the stuffed cat even tighter.
"Then you should make him feel safe," John explains. "Protect him with your body, like that," he says, pushing her gently forward while arranging the security belt over her hips alone, until she cover the toy on her lap by being bent over her knees. "With your hands up like this," he places them over her head, in the classic position for emergency landing. "You okay?"
"Yes," it's tiny, but more than she has said since the Croats got in, at least.
"Perfect. Stay like that to protect Mr Fluffy until I say the coast is clear, okay? It may be real bumpy at first, there's a lot of trash in the streets. Stay down until I say so and hang in tight."
"Okay."
"Attagirl," John says, and he forces himself to rub her back gently.
He then straightens up, takes a deep breath and does a thumb up at Martin who's standing in the door leading to the house with the remote for the garage door in one hand, a sawed off shotgun in the other and Katia right behind his shoulder with a rifle. It hits John again unexpectedly, right then, how the world if so beyond fucked up, when people about to commit suicide will first try to gun down as many as possible of their neighbors - if not friends - turned psychopaths by a fucking virus. That's where they're at in 2012, everyone. God bless America. Shaking that weird dissociation feeling off, John snaps his attention back to the present and turns on the engine. As soon as he knows the top of the SUV clears the door, he stomps on the accelerator and the Escalade jumps forwards in the driveway.
It's as bad as he thought it would be. There are five Croats in the driveway, and John manages to clip two as the others dive out of the way. The sound as they crash against the vehicle is loud and John's glad that he hasn't put the headlights on yet. Anna whimpers and John coos, heart beating double time.
"It's okay, Squirt, told ya it would be bumpy. Stay down."
The tires scream as he turns on the street, going north. John figures that if he can get out of town as fast as he can, there will be less Croats roaming in the woods. If he's lucky, they haven't blocked the roads yet. There is some more dodging and he can faintly hear guns in the background, grimaces thinking of the Martins. Going down in a blaze of glory is not a bad way to go, in this day and age. That's what John wishes for himself, although he's not quite ready for that yet. He keeps the pedal down, the engine roaring and it would be thrilling if he was not totally terrified because he needs to take care of this tiny human being right next to him. He just can't take care of a child, no way. As soon as they're out of immediate danger, John will need to think of something, of someone he trusts to take her. Keep her safe.
It says a lot on the sorry state of his life that the first person who comes to his mind is a guy he's seen half a dozen times, max, over three years ago.
***
Anna doesn't talk much, gazing out her window at the ruined shell of rural Nebraska most of the time. John had tried to get some sort of conversation going, at first, but it had not been successful. Anyway, he didn't feel like talking either. John was starting to droop from exhaustion, which was not a good idea while speeding down winding roads in between small towns. He turns right when he reaches the farm he'd been pointed to as a safe place to spend the night by someone that seemed to give a shit, for once. Probably because the kid is cute.
He finds the key where it’s supposed to be and soon enough John has Anna fed and settled for the night. She never asks for anything, does everything John asks her without complaining but he knows that there's no way he can keep her safe on his own. Anyway, being on the run is not a life, especially not when she's been ripped from everything she knew before. And not with him, a virtual stranger. John had been working for the Martins for six months or so, and yes, she'd seen him around and he even played with her a bit a couple of times, but that was it.
It's still early enough, 2130, but if John doesn't sleep soon he won't be able to be alert enough to stay in the game. They've been on the road for two days now, inching up towards the Canadian lines while avoiding Croat traps. He knows the borders are closed, but surely they won't turn down a six year old orphan. The windows are securely shut down, John made sure of it, and he pushes some heavy furniture to block the doors on top of the bolts and chains. Strolling by the phone fixed on the kitchen wall, John checks it by reflex. The tone is a total surprise: he hasn't come by a land line working out of major cities in months now.
Asking that it connects to anyone he knows is wishful thinking, but John tries. His first priority is Anna, and he thought about it a bit as the Escalade ate up asphalt. He hasn't talked with his brother Dave for years now, but by the last he knew, he still lived in the mansion in Virginia. John listens to the line ringing with a sudden need to know that Dave and his family are okay, at least. But the call doesn't connect and the recorded voice tells him there's no more service at that number, which makes a cold chill run down John's spine. Fuck. It doesn't mean anything but John can see it all, Croats decimating or turning them and he kicks the wall. He should have gone there months ago when they first heard about the virus and at least tried to protect them. Dave and him could have, who knows, talked and made up; maybe it's too late for that now.
John hasn't realized that he'd punched another number until it rings once and the line gets picked up.
"Yes, what?" Cutting, impatient. John blinks, surprised, and the voice, a man, asks. "Hello?" John has no idea who he called, and he's about to greet him when the rant starts. "I have no idea who you are, breathing down my line and wasting my precious time, but this is a private emergency number, and by occupying the line, you..."
"McKay?" John asks, as the image of broad shoulder in power suits and sharp blue eyes finally slot in to match the voice and the attitude.
"Oh, wow, it talks. Yes, yes, McKay here. And you are?" The ambient noise behind McKay changes and John has the sudden image of technicians being bullied into trying to track his number and location. John isn't quite sure if he wants to be on the government's radar anymore.
"John Sheppard. We met..." fighting aliens three years ago, you saved my life that day in the desert he's about to say. But Rodney McKay remembers that too, it seems.
"Sheppard? I thought something had finally found a way to kill you, but I'm glad I was wrong. Are you okay?"
John smiles, shaking his head even if no one can see.
"I'm fine, still kicking. But I need a favor," John says.
"What kind of favor?" The tone doesn't seem closed off.
McKay had visited him in the hospital when John was recovering from his near death by Wraith, and even if they hadn't spent much time together, they had had a nice banter going on. John had been surprised that McKay took time to come over - he didn’t have to after all - but each visit had been welcome and Rodney had always seemed to leave John’s room in a better mood than when he had came in. They'd even played chess, once, when Rodney was allowed to stay more than 15 minutes. John supposes that if things would have been different, they could have been friends. They maybe even were in one of those parallel universes McKay used to talk about. But then Rodney had to go do something at the very top of top secret and John had been discharged from the hospital, declared fit to go, and he'd never seen or heard of McKay again.
"I was working security for a family, but the Croats got 'em. I'm with their girl," John says.
"And what, you need advice to console your girlfriend?" Rodney asks, bewildered.
John chuckles.
"Anna is six, McKay. You have to take her and bring her somewhere safe."
"What?"
John winces, because that doesn't sound like an open 'what'. Rodney continues:
"What have you been smoking, Sheppard? Does my card spell 'child services'? I'm pretty sure it doesn't."
"But I can't keep her, McKay," John pleads. "I swear she's a great kid, no trouble, but if she stays with me... You're the only person that can help me."
He's ready to beg, if it comes to it. Rodney had been his first idea for support, John was sure he could at least help him find a good refuge for Anna.
"For Pete's sake!" Rodney curses and John grips the phone a little tighter. He can convince him, he's pretty sure. There had been a spark between them, even if not well defined.
"Rodney..." John drawls, managing to make it last at least four syllables. It’s the first time he calls him by his first name and it makes McKay fold like a house made of cards.
"Fine, fine, I'll see what I can do. But I can't promise anything," he says, and it's like a ton of bricks got lifted from John's shoulders.
"Thank you. Thank you so much," John says. He doesn't have an inch thick file on McKay, but John doesn't need it to know that Rodney can do the impossible. "I'll call you back at 0800 tomorrow morning."
"Fine. No pressure or anything, of course," Rodney replies, all snark and bluster and it makes John smile again. "Oh John?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you're okay," Rodney sounds like he means it, too.
"Same here. 'Night Rodney."
"Good night. Stay safe."
John hangs up and drags his ass to the bathroom, where he manages a short cold shower before he goes to check on Anna. She's fast asleep, holding Mr Fluffy close and John tries not to feel guilty that he's going to shove her at strangers as soon as he can. It's for the best, he knows, but the girl knows no one but him. He drags a mattress from another room to lay it on the floor, between her bed and the door, and places his guns in strategic places in case of an emergency. John’s head barely hits the pillow when he feels everything fall away.
***
What feels like moments later, he startles awake when his mattress dips. Fortunately, he realises that it's Anna before he does something stupid and just fakes sleeping, to see what she's up to. She drags the covers from her bed down and curls up in a little ball by his side. After a couple of minutes, she's asleep again.
It takes John longer, his heart tight in his chest, but he falls back to sleep too.
***
John's making P&J sandwiches for breakfast while Anna sips at an orange juice box when there's knocking at the kitchen door, right next to them. There hasn't been any sound of a car approaching or anything to warn him and John reacts by gesturing to Anna to hide in the pantry as he takes his gun out of his holster and approaches the door. The downside of boarded windows is that you can't fucking see who's there. The voice that comes through is unmistakable, though.
"Sheppard? It's me; don't try to blow my brain out."
Rodney. Here. John glances at his watch as he pushes the heavy cupboard out of way before unbolting and opening the door. It's 0745. Somehow, John is not really surprised of this development: of course Rodney would find him.
"You're early," John says as he opens the door, and can't help but smile at how Rodney looks. His hair is not as sleek as John remembers and he looks tired, but his eyes are just as sharp. He grins back, and offers John a tall coffee, still steaming.
"Tell me about it," Rodney sighs, before raising his eyebrows. Oh, of course.
"Come on in," John says, taking the coffee and stepping aside, and that's when he notices how Rodney's dressed. No power suits this time but military clothes, all black with a Canadian flag patch on one shoulder, complete with a thigh holster and boots. It's surprisingly hot.
"Thanks." Rodney looks around the kitchen and spots Anna who's peeking from behind the pantry's door. He puts his own coffee on the table, then fishes a chocolate bar from his shirt pocket and extends it to her. "Hey there. I brought you something too. You must be Anna? I'm Rodney."
Anna's eyes are jumping from the chocolate bar to Rodney's face to John and back again to the chocolate, unsure. John looks outside and sees there are effectively no cars, in fact nothing or no one he can see, before closing the door.
"It's okay, Squirt. Rodney's a friend, you can take it," John says.
She calmly walks to Rodney, then snatches the chocolate bar before running to hide behind John's legs while Rodney let's go of a startled "Hey!" John laughs and hoists Anna up on his hip, and she hides her face in John's neck, before he goes to the table near Rodney who's looking at them with something hard to define.
"Stealthy," John whispers to Anna. "But what do you need to say to Rodney now?" John chides softly.
Anna looks up, and turns to Rodney.
"Thank you Mister Rodney," She says softly.
Rodney smiles, pulls a chair but seems to think of something before sitting down.
"You're welcome, Anna." He then holds a hand up, where there's a little device that looks like a pen. "Now I'm sorry, but this is just a formality. It doesn't hurt or sting."
He reaches forward and touches Anna with the pen, and a green led flashes, just as it does for John when he does it next, but with an additional very bright blue glow. Rodney hums, but he doesn't look surprised at all, and then sits down and puts the pen back in his pocket.
John takes a chair too, settling Anna on his lap who doesn't seem to want to let go anytime soon. It doesn't make this easier.
"Thanks for coming, Rodney. Anything you can do?"
Rolling his eyes, Rodney gestures in the air around him. John notices that he doesn't wear a wedding band anymore.
"What? Oh, no, I decided to come all the way over here just to visit." He sighs. "Of course I can. I have somewhere for you guys, you'll be safe."
Blinking, John realizes that it means he's included and he shakes his head.
"Oh no, not me. I'm fine."
"Yeah, sure you are! Running for your life, offering security for food, I can see how it's a living you just can't get enough of!"
John shakes his head.
"No, I'm done with that. I'm gonna go fight those things, try to help."
Rodney leans forward, intent, pleading.
"Okay, then, come with me. The Air Force will take you back. They are desperately short of qualified personnel."
The possibility that he could fly again hits John right into the solar plexus, but he shakes his head. He's heard the ads calling to all ex-military and he could have gone back months ago. But he knows what would happen, that he'd have to let bombs drop on American cities to try and surgically strike against the Croatoan epidemic and John can't do that. He can't face the idea of collateral damages and bombing here.
"Nah. There are other ways," John tries to make the dismissal casual but there's hurt in Rodney's eyes.
"What, disorganized militia? John, I told you about the stargates, we're working on something big," Rodney says with intent.
"What, evacuating Earth altogether?" John jokes but his face falls a bit when Rodney doesn't even try to deny.
"Not everyone, and not forever. But we can put people out of danger, while we fight the virus." It sounds ten kids of insane.
"Rodney..." John doesn't want to argue with him, but if fighting aliens in Vegas was one thing, once upon a time, he can't leave the planet right now as everything goes to hell.
"John, we need you," Rodney insists. "It would be great to have someone with a gene as strong as yours for Atlantis, and believe me, you want to go there. I'm pretty sure..."
He's got no idea what Rodney's talking about but John cuts him with a gesture. Rodney's mouth shuts with a click and he looks frustrated, as if John's denying him something big, as if it's not John's life they are talking about. John won't leave everyone on Earth behind to die in what some call the apocalypse for an adventure in space. Anna shifts on John's lap and he's suddenly reminded of what's important. She's observing Rodney with her big black eyes and John knows kids hear everything, even if they act as if they don't. He makes Anna bounces her on his thigh, and then nudges her face up to his with a finger.
"Rodney here has a very, very cool job," he says. "He knows aliens, and all. Very top secret stuff."
Her eyes go round and she looks at Rodney with wonder.
"Aliens are real?" she asks. Rodney summons a smile for her and for that John is grateful.
"Oh yes, yes they are. Don't say it to anyone, but we can travel in space now. In fact, just two days ago I was visiting another planet that was very pretty."
"No way!"
"Cross my heart," Rodney says, doing the motions. "Would you want to come and visit it with me? There are funny rabbits with six legs over there."
She squints her eyes and clings to John's shirt a little tighter.
"It's not nice to lie, Mister Rodney."
Rodney huffs, obviously not happy to be called a liar but instead of arguing with a six year old he fishes a small camera from one of his BDU pockets. He taps on some buttons and then passes the camera to Anna.
"There. I'll have you know that Doctor Rodney McKay is not a liar, miss," he says.
On the display, a beautiful blond woman in uniform - a colonel - is smiling to the camera, cradling a sort of rabbit that indeed has six legs. Anna giggles, pointing at the creature. It almost looks like that Stitch cartoon from years ago; John had liked that movie.
"Oh, wow, look at that Mister John!"
"That's pretty cool!" he says, wondering if the girl in the picture is Rodney's new girlfriend. "I think you should go with Rodney and visit that planet."
Anna loses her smile immediately, blinking.
"Will you come too?" she asks, voice a little thin.
John shakes his head.
"Not right now, Squirt. I need to go see if I can help more people against the bad guys first."
"But then you'll come?"
"I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything," he wouldn't do that to a kid, make a promise he can't keep. She looks about to cry but takes a deep breath and wiggles out of John's lap.
"I'll go get my bag, then," she says, leaving the room.
"Brave kid," Rodney says.
"Yeah, she's great. Thanks Rodney, for doing this," John says trying to show how much it means to him
"You really should come, too. We need you. Tell me you'll think about it," Rodney pleads, just as intent.
"I can't promise anything," John says again, looking away.
"I'm not always here to answer the phone, but if you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can," Rodney says, sounding a bit more resigned.
"Not enough coverage, huh?" John quirks, trying to lighten the mood.
"Not nearly enough, no." Rodney sighs. "You're set into joining the para-military blooming all over the country, is that it?"
"Thought I'd try that, first," John confirms.
Rodney grabs a pen and a paper from the table and jolts down something. He pushes it to John and it holds two names: Camp Chitaqua and Dean Winchester.
"Some are worse than vipers nest, but those guys seem vaguely organized. The leader has an unconventional background, but he's not half bad at what he does. He refused to join the light side of the force, too. You guys will surely bond over issues with organized authority and everything."
John snorts, but puts the paper in his pocket. He had no group in particular chosen, he can check them out. Anna comes back in the kitchen, Mr Fluffy under an arm and the strap of her bag slung over her shoulder. She wavers a bit and then runs to John, hugging him fiercely. John's heart almost breaks, and he wishes he could go with her.
"You're such a good girl, Squirt. I'll miss you," the words come out way raspier that John wishes.
"I'll miss you too, Mister John. Don't die," Anna says solemnly.
"Okay. Okay," he kisses her brown hair and catches from the corner of his eye that Rodney has snatched a picture. He almost scowls but Rodney raises his chin defiantly, mouthing "for her, idiot!" so John lets it go.
"Ready to explore new planets?"
She nods.
"Yes. Will there be other kids, there, Mister Rodney?" she asks and John is struck at how it must have been months or even years that Anna has been with adults almost exclusively. He feels a bit less like shit for letting her go.
Rodney smiles.
"Yes, Anna. You'll make friends there. And do you know how we're going to go there?" Rodney points up as he speaks.
"In a spaceship?"
"Well, we'll go on a spaceship, yes, and then through a gate that will bring us directly on the other planet. And do you know how we'll go on the spaceship, first?"
She shrugs, as if it's not that hard a question.
"We drive where they send the spaceships up."
"That's where you'd be wrong, little miss." Rodney grins at her. "Have you ever seen the Star Trek movies?"
Anna smiles right back.
"Yes. Captain Kirk, and Bones and Spock..."
"Exactly! And do you remember what Scotty is good at?"
She purses her face in concentration.
"Machines? Energise?"
"We're going to get along great, you're very smart. Are you ready to go?" Rodney says gesturing her to come closer. She nods, and takes two steps closer. Rodney fishes a talkie walkie from a pocket. "Daedalus? McKay, almost ready to board. Taking only one passenger, though, the closest to me. Copy that?"
"Yes, Doctor, on your signal."
John's jaw drops open. Rodney can't be serious.
"No way!"
Rodney smiles, crooked but still really attractive. John has always liked brains and wit.
"How do you think we got to you so fast in the desert, after your western showdown with the Wraith? You had your turn."
"Well it doesn't count, I was too busy dying," John says, petulant. He vaguely remembers a white light, but he had just thought that it was it, the end of the tunnel, game over. He feels cheated, somehow.
"You better get your head out of your ass soon, Sheppard. I'm not kidding. The Atlantis mission needs you, call when you are ready," Rodney tries again, obviously not used to being refused when he really wants something.
John shakes his head. He can't promise anything.
"We'll see."
Rodney fishes the pen he used earlier from his pocket and makes it roll towards John on the table.
"I probably dropped this somewhere. I'm not usually that careless with top secret equipment. If it goes red, there's nothing to do for that person. If it goes blue for anyone, have them call me." He sighs and John takes the device, realising how priceless a gift it is. "So long, Sheppard." Rodney looks very disappointed, which irrationally makes John want to follow him. Then Rodney cuts his eyes away and says to Anna. "There's going to be a very bright light, and then we'll appear on the spaceship. Don't be scared, okay?"
She's smiling, excited, and grips Rodney's arm. He looks at her fondly and John knows he'll do everything he can. She turns to John one last time and says.
"Come when you have saved enough people. And I'll have a rabbit and you can pet it, okay?"
He can't say anything, choked up, but he smiles, then nods at Rodney who clicks his radio.
"Want to do the honors, Anna?"
She grins and speaks close to the speaker.
"Beam us up, Scotty!" Anna says very excitedly.
John laughs and Rodney and Anna are being enveloped in white light and disappear. Shit. Expecting it is one thing, seeing it a whole other level of crazy. He's left clutching a coffee that's still warm, alone in the kitchen.
Well, John thinks. That explains how he had not heard a car when Rodney got here.
His life, really.
***
Chapter 2
Master Fic Post