Snakeheads: A Love Story (Part Three of Three)

[taste_is_sweet]

"Rodney," John breathed into the long, aching silence.

"John?" Rodney blinked at him. His blue eyes were huge and astonished and just like John remembered. He was perfect, standing there like nothing had happened to him. "What--what are you--"

"You were dead," John told him. He wasn't breathing right, too shallow and fast. The world started going grey at the edges and the Zat slid out of John's hand, thunking unnoticed on the floor. John swayed, took a step to steady himself but his legs gave out.

Rodney caught him, his hands clutching fistfuls of John's jumpsuit, but all he managed was to carry them both down until they were seated together on the concrete floor.

"You were dead," John said again. He grabbed Rodney's shoulders and the still-familiar solid shape of them was like a punch in his chest. "You were dead! You died and we left you there!"

It was the meds--it had to be the meds. John had stopped taking them and now he was so fucked up his control was gone, nonexistent. He could feel himself shaking, cold like he was going into shock. His brain was such a mess of elation and rage that he felt like he was about to explode.

"Oh my God, John!" Rodney was saying. He was still holding John's jumpsuit, like he had to physically keep John there with him. His expression was wide open, looking as blasted as John felt. "Are you all right?"

"No," John said. He wanted to pull himself closer, but couldn't seem to move. "You died," John said. He had been there, still remembered it exactly as it had happened. Mer'deth had felt it.

"Yes I did," Rodney said softly. "The SGC has a sarcophagus."

John made a sound not even close to a laugh, and that did it, somehow broke the spell around him and let him move. He hauled Rodney to him, wrapping his arms around Rodney's back.

Rodney did the same thing. "God, you're freezing," Rodney said. "Why didn't you come back?" John could hear the years of misery in his voice, the bright, deep stab of betrayal and the loneliness. "I waited for you to come back."

"I'm sorry," John said. He nuzzled into the curve of Rodney's neck, wishing he could get closer to him. "You were dead. There was no reason to come back. We couldn't…didn't want to be here without you."

"Oh," Rodney said softly. He moved his hand to the back of John's head. "But you're back now, right? That's why you're here, isn't it?" The hope in Rodney's voice was heartbreaking.

"No," John said. "They found us." He forced himself to lift his head and look Rodney in the eyes. "The took Mer'deth. He's gone. I think--I know he's somewhere here. I was trying to find him."

"That's terrible!" Rodney said, stunned, and John almost smiled at the familiar understatement. "I thought--I thought you had him. I thought he was still in you."

"No," John said, shaking his head. "They thought I was his prisoner. No one believed me."

"Oh, God, John," Rodney said. "Oh my God. That's horrible. How long have you been here? No, never mind, that's not important." Rodney snapped his fingers, and John could practically see the ideas clicking into beautiful order behind Rodney's eyes. "Okay, listen," he said quickly. "Here's what you have--"

John heard the clatter of boot steps the same instant Rodney did, and suddenly Rodney was shoving him away, scrambling off the floor. "Get away from me, you psycho!"

John was still gaping at him when the Marines stunned him, again.

"Ceridwen," John said, "I need to ask you something."

Ceridwen regarded him levelly, which seemed to be the only way the Tok'ra regarded anything.
"If this is about clemency for the Goa'uld, he has no information of value to us," she said, "I'm sorry. If there was ever a Goa'uld who deserved mercy, it is Mer'deth. But I'm afraid the execution will stand."

"It's not about that," John grit out. He wanted to pace, punch the wall, possibly even punch Ceridwen, but he couldn't do any of that. They were standing facing each other in one of the wide, crystalline tunnels of the Tok'ra's underground base. Ceridwin had her hands clasped in front of her, half buried in the folds of her dress skirt. She looked very proper and Victorian.

She arched her eyebrows elegantly when John didn't say more. "Then what is it you wish to ask me?"

"What's it like?" John asked.

Ceridwen blinked mildly at him. "To what are you referring?"

John clenched his jaw. How could he even contemplate doing this if he couldn't say it? He squared his shoulders. "You have a symbiot," he said, as if challenging her to deny it. "How do you live like that?"

The question had come out far less neutrally than John had intended, but Ceridwen just cocked her head a little, like she was seriously considering his question. "I fear I know why you're asking this," she said. "Are you certain this is what you want to do, John?"

John swallowed. "Just tell me."

Ceridwen kept looking at him, John had no idea what she was searching for in his face, but finally she nodded. "Very well. I have shared this body with Oreh for so long that I can scarcely remember my life without her, but I will try."

John nodded tightly. Shared this body. It sounded like a nightmare, but John made himself listen.

Ceridwen's eyes grew distant for a moment, and for the first time John saw her smile--a small, dreamy thing that nonetheless made her look decades younger. "It was…difficult, at first. I joined the Tok'ra because my mother had been killed by a Jaffa, for nothing more than being too slow to kneel for the System Lord's procession. She was carrying my little brother at the time, and only wanted to put him down first. I believe my brother was taken after she had been killed. I heard he'd been taken. The most I ever discovered of him was a rumor of a young Jaffa who looked like me, who had been stolen as a child--some Goa'uld Queens have the power to do that, you understand. Make Jaffa. In any case I have never seen him again."

John winced.

"That was many years ago," Ceridwen said softly. She took a breath, gathering herself. "So through dint of great effort, I found the Tok'ra, and was given Oreh. And at first, as I said, it was very difficult." She smiled again, as if at her own foolishness. "For twenty years I had been my own master, at least as much as slavery to our false God allowed. My time was not my own, but my body was, as were my thoughts. It was a terrible blow to suddenly have to share them both. And it didn't help that Oreh was very young at the time and quite impulsive." Ceridwen shook her head fondly. "She had a bad habit of taking over my body unexpectedly, and somehow she always managed to do it when I was climbing or running. I can't tell you how many bruises and scrapes were the result of her interference."

"How can you take that?" John demanded. "Knowing that something can steal control of your body at any time?"

Ceridwen looked thoughtful. "Well, we had a common goal, and that helped. And Oreh certainly never wished to hurt me. She always healed me as fast as she could, with many apologies. And she learned, eventually, to give me fair warning or ask permission. It was the same with our thoughts. I was very jealous of keeping my memories and ideas to myself, so I loathed it when Oreh explored my mind without asking. But again, in time we created an accord about it. And of course Oreh is an open book to me as well."

John nodded. It still sounded like hell, all of it. Just like what he'd gone through with Mer'deth. "How do you trust her?"

He thought the question might have surprised her, but then Ceridwen smiled. "If I stopped trusting everyone who was ever selfish, thoughtless or impulsive, I believe I would be quite alone." Her expression became thoughtful again. "You asked what it was like, however, and I haven't really told you. Yes, Oreh," she tisked. "I had indeed thought of that. Excuse me," she said to John. "Oreh is very shy, but that never prevents her from voicing her opinion." She took a breath. "It's…nothing like anything you've probably experienced, really. I suppose it's somewhat like sharing a small dwelling. You're both in there at the same time, so the trick is to give the other as much space as possible. But it's more than that," she said before John could break in. "It's like…hm." Her gaze turned inward for a moment, and John knew she was talking to Oreh again. "Yes. Thank you." She lifted her head. "The best I can tell you is that Oreh is the second half of me, as I am for her. She is my friend, and my sister, and far more than either of that. Together we are more than whole." Ceridwen's smile was beautiful, and John felt like he was looking at the woman as she had been before her mother was killed and her brother stolen. "I am far richer for hosting her than I could have ever been without."

John stared at her, and Ceridwen let him. She looked serene, John thought. Happy.

John wondered if Rodney had felt like that. He wondered if he could.

"Excuse me," Ceridwen said quietly. She bowed her head, and when she raised it again John knew he was looking at Oreh, something in the way she held her face.

"I think you need to know something," Oreh said. "Do not underestimate a symbiot. If you were able to fight for control of your body, it is because he chose to let you."

"No, that's not true." John shook his head, guts clenching with revulsion. "He tried to--he couldn't. He told me he was too weak."

Oreh nodded. "Are you aware of how you arrived at this place?"

John's brow knit in confusion. "Yeah. He took me to this planet and you guys found us."

"Yes," Oreh said. "But what you don't know is that it was you who found us. Mer'deth was extremely weak, that is certain, but he walked through the storm until one of our scouts saw him." She went on while John stood there, all but gaping. "There is a reason why the Goa'uld claim that nothing of the host survives. It's because they lock their hosts up so tightly inside their own minds that they are no longer aware of any part of the outside world. It is an existence so close to death as to be no different. Mer'deth could have done that at any time. He could have kept you quiescent until your wounds were healed and forever after. Instead, he chose to weaken himself almost to death to give you freedom. Think on that, Colonel Sheppard." Her eyes glowed like an exclamation point.

One of them--John wasn't sure which--inclined her head gracefully then continued walking down the corridor. John stayed where he was. He thought about Rodney, who wouldn't share his coffee if he didn't have to, willingly--gladly--sharing his entire being. And Mer'deth, who could have taken John's body completely and never given it back.

John's body was his own again. He was free to leave. He could do whatever he wanted. But if he left Mer'deth here, Mer'deth was going to die.

John never left anyone behind.

"I'm truly sorry about this, John," the shrink said. She was standing on the other side of the prison bars. "I really thought we were making progress."

"I want to speak to Rodney," John said.

The shrink looked like she wasn't sure if she should be frustrated or sad. "I've already told you, John, we can't do that. It's a question of his safety."

John didn't try to insist that he hadn't done anything to Rodney again; they hadn't believed him the first ten times, and they weren't going to now. "I'm behind bars," he said. "I can't even touch him."

"His physical safety isn't really an issue here," the shrink said, "but his emotional safety is." Her lips pursed in a pretty moue. "I can't go into details, but suffice to say he was in a very bad mental state when we revived him. We don't want to risk triggering another breakdown."

John wondered who the hell 'we' were. "Why didn't you tell me he was alive? Why didn't you tell him I was here?" he demanded. He kept his voice even, but he guessed that there was something showing in his eyes, because the shrink backed up a step, despite the fact that John was sitting on a bench on the far side of his cell.

"You may not remember this," she said, looking regretful, "but you were highly delusional and violent after we removed the Goa'uld. We didn't want to risk you having a psychotic episode and attacking Dr. McKay."

"So you thought it would be better just to keep us believing that the other was dead," John said flatly.

"Yes." The shrink nodded. "To protect you both."

John tightened his hands around the edge off the metal bench until it felt like there was no blood in his fingers. If he lost his cool here he knew there'd never be a chance of his getting out again. "Is he all right?"

"Yes, he's fine," she said, but didn't elaborate even when John waited for it.

John swallowed. "I'd really like to see him."

"I'm sorry, but that's not possible right now," she said.

"When can I get out of here?" John asked.

For a moment the shrink looked like he'd lost what was left of his mind, but she regained her composure quickly enough. "I'm not sure you understand the seriousness of your situation, John. You attacked two Marines, stole a Zat gun and an ID card, then used it to access restricted areas and assaulted Dr. McKay."

John knew his jaw was twitching; he didn't answer.

The shrink hesitated as if waiting for him, and then went on, "Given your recent behavior, the only reasonable conclusion is that you've been completely compromised by your time as a host to the Goa'uld." She looked sorry. "I personally have never seen a more severe case of brainwashing." She pursed her lips again, as if hating to have to say whatever was coming next. "And the truth of the matter is, this is out of my depth. I can't help you."

That sounded so ominous that John stood up, though he was careful not to come closer to the bars. The Marine standing conspicuously by the door looked all-too-eager to use his Zat, and John was a little sick of being stunned. "What does that mean?"

The shrink pulled in a defeated breath. "It means we're going to move you to a different facility, where you can be properly deprogrammed." She smiled sadly. "I'm sure, given time, you'll be able to have a team again."

"I don't need to be 'deprogrammed'!" John shouted before he could think about it. He rushed the bars and grabbed them. "God damn you! You don't listen to me, you drug me and lock me in a fucking cage and won't even let me see my--my best friend, who I thought was dead, and then you have the hubris to tell me I've been brainwashed and need 'deprogramming'?

The Marine's Zat shot up, but the shrink raised her hand, stopping him. "I can see you're very upset about this, John--"

"Damn right I'm upset!" John shouted as he yanked ineffectually on the bars. "I've told you and told you that Mer'deth didn't hurt me! I told you I volunteered to host him! But you'd all rather think I was crazy than even consider that I was telling the truth and you might be wrong! So yeah, I'm a little fucking upset!" He smacked his hands on the bars as he pushed himself away to stalk over to the bench again. He lay back and threw his arm over his eyes.

"I'm tired," he said. "I'd really like to be left alone now, please. Unless you think I'm so fucking compromised that I can't be by myself in an empty cell."

The shrink cleared her throat delicately. "There was some question of self-harm."

John laughed, bitter as acid. "I really think you've done enough harm for the both of us."

The Tok'ra guard was so easy to take down John was almost embarrassed for the guy, except that when John grabbed his Zat and stunned him the guard fell against the transparent fish tank thing they were keeping Mer'deth in, and it slid off the electronic pedestal and smashed on the floor.

"Shit!" John dropped to his knees among the wet shards. He let the Zat go so he could scoop up the Goa'uld. Mer'deth was squirming madly, flipping like a fish over the glass. His long, light-grey body was streaked with his species' bluish blood.

"Mer'deth! Mer'deth! Stay still! I'm trying to help you!" John didn't know if the Goa'uld was too panicked to listen or couldn't hear him out of water or what, but Mer'deth didn't stop moving even when John tried to cup him in his hands. John ended up grabbing him in both fists like he would a snake, sucking in air when his sliced his fingers on the glass. "You'd better heal that," he muttered.

Mer'deth stopped moving as soon as he was off the ground, lying limp in John's hands. He stared up at John with one enormous, terrified eye, like a mouse in a trap. Minute shudders ran through his body like vibrations under the smooth, alien skin.

John knelt on the wet floor, fragments of the tank cutting into his shins even through the stupid pants, and he held Mer'deth in his hands and stared down at him and it felt like he couldn't breathe.

He was giving away his body, if he did this. He wouldn't be John Sheppard anymore. He'd be half of a dual entity, or maybe a prisoner. Oreh and Mer'deth had said that Mer'deth had purposefully given John autonomy, control of his own being, but that didn't mean Mer'deth wouldn't just take over now. And if he did, John would be lost. An existence so close to death as to be no different.

John almost dropped the little Goa'uld right there and fled.

Except. He was willing to die for you, John remembered, and the light in Ceridwen's eyes when she'd told him about Oreh: Together we are more than whole.

But Oreh wasn't a Goa'uld. Then again, neither was Mer'deth, not really. And if John didn't do this, Mer'deth was going to die. He was already dying, because John was hesitating, because he was afraid.

Rodney hadn't hesitated.

And maybe that, in spite of everything else, was what made John lift his hands and put Mer'deth gently against his chest--because that was what Rodney had done.

It didn't hurt quite as much, this time. Maybe because John was expecting it.

Thank you, Mer'deth whispered in the back of his mind.

John didn't answer him. He scrabbled the Zat off the floor and lurched to his feet, trying to decide which direction to run.

I think there's a Tal'tak bay to your right, Mer'deth said. We--you, I mean--can steal one and go into hyperspace. I think that will be safer than trying to get back to the Gate.

"Maybe," John said. "Maybe not."

It's your choice, Mer'deth said.

"Yes it is," John said.

He turned to the right and started running.

"Hey--hey, John! Get up!"

It was the urgency of the whisper that woke John up, a particular tightness to the voice that he knew as well as his own, even after two years without hearing it. John bolted upright, was at the front of his cell a second later, hands clamped tight around the steel bars.

"Rodney?"

"Yes, yes, it's me," Rodney said brusquely, while John stood there blinking. Rodney squinted worriedly in the red light the SGC used in the cells at night, so the prisoners could sleep while being visible on the security cameras. "Are you all right?"

"They said I couldn't see you," John said. He was sure he should be doing something--Rodney had to be there for a reason; he was fiddling with the lock on the door--but all John could do was stare at him. Rodney was wearing a dark green jumpsuit that looked a lot like John's, with its pockets bulging. He'd gained a bit of weight since John had last seen him, and maybe his hair was a little thinner, but the piercing, fiercely intelligent eyes were exactly the same. Rodney had the same crazy, wonderful smile.

"Yes, well, a reasonable precaution, really. Considering how you brutally attacked me in my own lab." Rodney looked over his shoulder, expression going soft and sad. "I'm really sorry about that," he said. "I really--God, I hated doing that. But I couldn't risk doing anything that might make them put me under guard, too."

Like being too sympathetic with the obviously insane escaped prisoner. John got that.

Rodney was still looking at him. "Boy did I miss you," he said.

"Yeah," John said, voice rough. He nodded again. He looked up at the camera, glowering down in the corner of the ceiling. "Um…"

Rodney had turned back to whatever he was doing with the door and the tools in his pockets, but he seemed to understand what John was saying anyway. "Yes, because I would've completely forgotten about the cameras when I came to bust you out. Actually," he turned again, and his smile was pleased. "I'd just been thinking, blackout, you know?" He made a sharp gesture with one hand. "Zap! And we'd be laughing. But Mer'deth thought it'd be better to loop pre-existing footage, so unless someone looked twice everything would be business as usual."

John had heard almost none of that. "Wait, Mer'deth?" He pressed so close to the bars that his face hurt. "You found him?"

Rodney blinked at him. "Well, yeah," he said, like it was too obvious even to mention. "Before we came to get you. Why do you think I was talking about him?" Whatever he saw on John's face made his eyes go wide. "Oh, yeah, okay." He went back to the lock. John heard the faint, beautiful click as it disengaged.

Rodney slid the door open, and he and John were standing face-to-face again.

"Hey," Rodney said, his smile hopeful but uncertain. "We, uh,"--he gestured at the door--"we really should--"

John surged forward and kissed him, holding Rodney's face in his hands. Rodney was startled, but he sank into the kiss almost immediately, sliding his hands around John, his palms streaks of warmth as they smoothed up and down John's back.

Rodney sighed in pleasure into John's mouth and then licked it away, his tongue gliding alongside John's. John had never forgotten the taste of him.

"God, I've missed you," Rodney said when he finally, gently pushed John away. He touched John's face, briefly stroking his fingers down John's cheek.

"Yeah," John said, nodding. He didn't want to try to say more than that. He hugged Rodney instead, allowing himself to hold on tight, for just a minute. It had been so long.

"Hang on," Rodney said when John let go of him. He blinked, and when his eyes opened they glowed orange.

"Are you all right?" Mer'deth said.

"Mer!" John kissed him too. Mer'deth kissed almost the same way Rodney did--meticulous and thorough--but there were subtle differences in the nudge and slide of lips and tongue that astonished John by how much he recognized them. He'd known for a long time that Rodney and Mer'deth had shared, whenever Rodney was with him. But John hadn't expected he would be able to tell the difference.

"I'm fine," John said when they broke apart, and did his best to ignore the searing jealousy that took him completely by surprise, speaking to Mer'deth but looking at Rodney's face. John had been host to Mer'deth for two years, and it didn't matter that he knew intellectually that Rodney had hosted Mer'deth for longer, or that this was the only way of getting Mer'deth out of the base. John wanted Mer'deth looking out through his eyes, snug around his spine. It suddenly hit him that he'd never have that again.

"We really need to go," Rodney said, back in control now, and John nodded absently and went with them, automatically moving in front of Rodney.

"Let me lead," Rodney whispered in his ear. "It's part of the plan." He put his hand on John's wrist to stop him then squeezed gently before he let go.

John didn't like it, but he trusted Rodney and Mer'deth, and they'd gotten this far; he was sure they could get him out.

He followed Rodney down the corridor, matching Rodney's hurried, purposeful stride. Rodney used his own ID card to access the elevator, and then stood in the car with his arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently as if his biggest concern was arriving late to a meeting.

The elevator ground to a halt and let them out into part of the mountain John recognized but hadn't seen for a long time. This was the way to the Control room, with the Gate room right below them. Rodney just kept up his brisk walk like he wasn't doing anything unusual.

"Try not to look suspicious," Rodney murmured to him. John rolled his eyes, smiling despite how adrenaline was sizzling along his nerves.

"Walk casual?" he whispered back, then smiled sweetly when Rodney glowered at him.

And then they turned the corner to the Control room, and John set his shoulders back, leaving his hands relaxed and ready at his sides, knowing there would be a fight. Rodney glanced back at him, expression completely open and maybe a little scared, and John nodded.

Rodney's mouth flickered in a smile, and then he was storming up the stairs, full of bluster and self-important irritation.

"All right, what the hell problem here was so serious that you needed to drag me away from my lab?" he demanded of the room, and the two bored Gate technicians whirled in their chairs and stared at him. "Well?" Rodney stomped his way over to the tech on the far end of the room before the man could get a word out. He glanced back at John, as if his presence was barely significant. "You handle that one, if you can manage it." He snapped his fingers and pointed imperiously, but he was already glaring at the tech again. "Let me tell you, the damn Mountain had better be on fire--"

John was just able to catch the orange glow of Rodney's eyes as Rodney let Mer'deth take over. In one swooping move the Goa'uld grabbed the tech by the front of his garrison shirt and tossed him into the wall. The tech hit spread-eagled, then slid down to the floor.

The tech Rodney had assigned to John was a woman, and she was about as prepared to be attacked as the guy had been. John hauled her out of her chair and into a choke hold, trying to hurt her as little as possible while still cutting off her air. He lay her down gently as soon as her eyes rolled back, but he still felt guilty as hell.

John didn't know if it was Rodney or Mer'deth opening the iris on the Gate, but when Rodney looked over, John knew it was him.

"Um, do you think the throwing thing was overkill?" Rodney gestured nervously at the tech he'd taken out, now sprawled on his side on the floor.

"He'll be fine," John said curtly. He'd taken hits just as bad, though he didn't envy the guy when he woke up. He swallowed, watching tensely as Rodney hit the keys to open a wormhole. It seemed to take forever before the last chevron was locked and the Gate finally burst into a bright disk of blue water.

Instantly, the Unauthorized Gate Activation alarm went off.

"Let's go," Rodney said. John nodded, already moving.

They ran down the stairs and up the ramp and then side-by-side through the event horizon, shimmering behind them blue as freedom.

The SGC had stolen Mer'deth's pyramid ship, but that was fine; he had another one.

That was where the Gate address had taken them: to the planet where the ship was locked in orbit. Rodney found the controlling device for the ring transporter exactly where John and Mer'deth had left it. Seconds later they were home.

"We'll need to gather our Jaffa," Rodney said. They were in the Goa'uld's suite, as kitschy and tackily opulent as the previous one, with the bed large enough to fit six people. John didn't know if Rodney was murmuring his plans to Mer'deth or John or both of them, but he wasn't really listening anyway. He grunted something in reply and finished pulling off McKay's jumpsuit. It fell to the floor next to John's and he kicked them both aside. The life those uniforms represented had been over for him years ago, and he felt nothing but relief to not be wearing one anymore.

Rodney was looking up at him from where he was lying on the bed, resplendent as a king. His cock was hard and red and there was something close to wonder in Rodney's eyes, and for a long moment John couldn't do anything but stare back at him.

John swallowed, throat suddenly thick in a way that had nothing to do with how Rodney was waiting like a gift. "I never thought I would see you again," he said.

"Me too," Rodney said just as seriously. He lifted his arm, beckoning. "Come here."

John did, crawling onto the bed and onto Rodney, sliding up his body, touching as much of him as he could. Rodney hissed as their groins met, cocks rubbing, then grabbed John and rolled them both onto their sides, kissing John almost frantically.

"Wait, wait," Rodney said suddenly, pulling away. He put his hand over John's mouth when John followed, trying to reach his lips again. "Um, Mer'deth wants me to tell you that he'll stay back, if you want. You can be with just me. If you want that."

"No," John said. He didn't even have to think about it. "I want you both. It's always been both of you."

The happy sigh from Rodney's mouth might have been Mer'deth, but John didn't care. He pulled Rodney into another kiss, reaching between them to take both their cocks in his hand.

"Oh, God, yes," Rodney said against John's lips, and then his hand batted John's away, and John knew that was Mer'deth--impatient, demanding, sumptuously generous Mer'deth--who knew John as well as John knew himself and who was able to make him shudder and gasp with a practiced, perfect twist of Rodney's hand.

"Oh, yeah," and that was Rodney again, taking up Mer'deth's rhythm. "That's it. Come on, come for me, John. Please, I want you--"

John moaned and buried his face against Rodney's neck, his breath hitching and ragged as he bucked and thrust into Rodney's hand. He came so hard it made him dizzy, and he ended up giggling stupidly into Rodney's shoulder, laughing at himself and so incredibly happy.

Rodney made a desperate noise, but it was Mer'deth who pushed John onto his back like he weighed nothing, who rutted into the crease of John's hip, dragging the head of his penis through the slickness of semen and sweat. John could see the instant the Goa'uld retreated, giving Rodney the climax, and Rodney threw his head back and came.

"Jesus, that was good," Rodney said a little while later. He was lying mostly on John, and John was kind of uncomfortable, but not enough to really want to do anything about it. Especially since Rodney had his head on John's shoulder and was carding his fingers through John's hair in slow fascination.

John smiled, sleepy and content. His arms were linked over Rodney's back. "Mmm."

"I'm so glad you're here, both of you," Rodney said, and John could hear how very much he meant it.

"Yeah," John said, pulling Rodney closer. "M'glad you got your snake back." Part of him really was. Mer'deth had belonged to Rodney first, after all, and John knew how awful it felt to have emptiness where part of yourself had been. But he knew because he felt that emptiness now, and he wanted Mer'deth back, and that wasn't going to happen.

"He resents that word, you know," Rodney said mildly. He kissed John's shoulder. Rodney was silent for a moment, and then he lifted his head. His expression was grave. "Mer'deth wants to know something," he said.

"What?" John asked, worried now. "What is it?"

"Is it okay if he talks to you?" Rodney asked.

John nodded. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

"Okay, hang on…" Rodney's eyes flashed orange.

"With Rodney as my host, he'll live longer than you," Mer'deth said.

John nodded again. "Yeah," he said, smiling ruefully. "Though chances are that would've happened anyway."

"Not if I could help it." Mer'deth snorted, as if John's protectiveness was a personal insult. "Well, I don't want that to happen," he added imperiously. "You're too pretty to allow to become old and ugly and…and die."

"Thanks," John said caustically. He shrugged as best he could with Rodney's body laying on him. "It's natural, though. That's what happens."

"Yes," Mer'deth sniffed. "Well, I was thinking we can do something about that."

John went still. "I'm not using a sarcophagus."

"Of course you are, because homicidal insanity would just exponentially increase your attractiveness," Mer'deth said caustically. "I wasn't talking about a sarcophagus. I was talking about…me."

John blinked, tried not to pay attention to how his heart sped up in hope. "That's not fair to Rodney."

"Well, no, it wouldn't be fair if I took you as my host permanently," Mer'deth said. "But Rodney and I were discussing it just now, and there's no reason why you can't share me. I mean, I could, perhaps, spend a few years with Rodney, and then a few years with you…like that." He sounded almost shy about it, as if there was some possibility that John would refuse. "As long as I'm healthy--which really shouldn't be a problem for, oh, about two thousand years--I can keep from releasing toxins when I come out. So, that is, it wouldn't be a problem. For us, I mean. If you wanted it?"

John took a few breaths, hoping his voice would sound normal. "And Rodney's okay with that?"

"Like I wouldn't be," Rodney scoffed, but he belied his tone by cupping the side of John's face. "I don't want to watch you getting old and frail any more than Mer'deth does."

John smirked a little, but there really wasn't anything funny about this. "I don't know what to say."

"How about yes, stupid?" That was definitely Mer'deth.

This time John really laughed, happiness bubbling out of him. "Fine. Yes, then, if you're just going to bitch about it."

"Oh yeah." Rodney gave a great, put-upon sigh. "You two are squabbling already. I must be home."

"We are," John said, holding them close, everything he ever wanted. "We're home."

END

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