Hidden Depths, Part 2 of 2
Part 1 is here.
Hidden Depths
Part 2 of 2
John woke late that night with a start. Once he’d managed to calm his racing heart, he realized that Rodney lay in his arms, nose pressed against his shoulder, breathing shallow and regular. As he turned his head, Rodney’s hair tickled the underside of his chin, and John found himself reveling in that simple sensation.
Rodney, he thought, smiling to himself. All these years, he’d convinced himself he preferred to be alone because there was no other choice, but now that he was here, he knew he’d been waiting for this, for the chance to touch and be touched, to see Rodney’s face flushed and joyous with desire, to live this quiet, early morning moment. The future might be uncertain and unknowable, but this was worth risking everything. He closed his eyes, intending to drift slowly back to sleep carried along on the current of Rodney’s soft breaths. Before he could, however, he finally heard what had awakened him.
The heartbeat had changed.
As the city had risen, John had finally heard the city's pulse, sped up to normal rate, pumping life back into the halls and rooms and spires. Since he'd arrived, he'd noticed it had slowed once again, but now it was different. Weakening, fading, crying for someone to hear it.
As though urged on by a force beyond his control, John untangled himself carefully from Rodney's sleep-warm body and dressed in the dark, then padded out into the hall on bare feet. The guard outside was a new one, a young man who seemed surprised to see him.
“Hello,” John said, sticking out his hand in the way he'd learned. “I'm John Shepherd.”
The young man gripped his hand and shook it. “Lieutenant Aiden Ford.”
“I need to go for a walk. Is that okay?”
“Fill your - uh, boots,” Aiden said, glancing at John's feet. “I just have to come along, all right?”
John smiled. “Sure.”
“Where are we going?”
John closed his eyes for a moment, listening, then started walking. “Hell if I know, Aiden.”
They walked for over an hour, until John could feel Aiden vibrating with impatience beside him. Finally, they reached a door, and John knew this was the place, for the pulse was pounding in his ears, his blood, his bones.
He laid a palm against the door. I know it hurts. I’m coming.
“Uh, Mr. Shepherd. Is this the place?”
John blinked, and was surprised when tears rolled down his cheeks. “Yes,” he said, roughly. He thought open, and the doors parted.
“Hey, how did you - ” Aiden stopped, brought up short, John imagined, by the old woman standing before them in the dimly lit chamber, her skin as pale as death itself.
“You should call your Doctor Beckett,” John said. “Quickly.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Five days later, everyone was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster, none more so than Elizabeth, who'd gotten to see herself die of old age, and then had attended her own funeral. Rodney's brain was torn between wanting to run in fifty different new and exciting directions thanks to all they'd learned, to screaming out his horror at all they'd learned. For the first time in his life, he wished he had an off switch, just so that he could get a few hours' uninterrupted rest.
After finding the other Elizabeth, John had hovered on the edges of the situation, a quiet presence that had steadied Rodney, given him comfort. Now, as they sat on the couch together, Rodney with his tie loose and jacket finally gone, John still in his borrowed suit, Rodney realized he hadn't told John how much that had meant to him. He turned and saw that John was staring straight ahead of him, gaze hollow and distant. It chilled him to the bone.
“John?” No reaction; Rodney placed a hand on his arm, and John jerked, startling them both. “Sorry, sorry. You just - are you okay?”
“I don't know,” John said, hoarsely. “I miss her.”
Rodney frowned, confused. From what he'd seen, John had barely spoken to the other Elizabeth, and he'd only known her for a few days. Nevertheless, it was clear John was in pain, and it bothered him that he had no idea how to fix it. “I'm sorry,” he said helplessly.
John took a deep breath, let it out. “What now?”
“Well, I was going to change and head to the lab. She gave us lots of fascinating information, and I don't want to waste a moment. It seems - disrespectful - not to get right to work. Does that make sense?”
John smiled faintly. “I understand, Rodney.”
And wow, Rodney had to be hallucinating the 'you' in there, he knew that, but something in John's gaze and his soft tone made his heart do cartwheels, even in the state he was in. “You should come, too,” he blurted.
John frowned. “Me?” There was surprise in the word, and something else: a spark of interest, Rodney hoped.
“Yes, you. You've got some kind of special connection to the city, just like you had to Elizabeth.”
John shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “I wouldn't say special -”
“I would. When I was hurt, it was you who raised the alarm, told the city where to find me. How did you do that?”
John shook his head slowly. “I don't know,” he said. “I've always -” he clamped his mouth shut. “I don't know.”
Rodney leaned in. “Would you like to find out?”
John looked at him for what seemed like an eternity, while Rodney held his breath.
“Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, I would.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Rodney!” Elizabeth cried out, as John went head first over the balcony railing.
John bounded to his feet and waved his arms. He felt giddy and happy and alive, like the eager four-year-old he’d once been, clinging to the back of a baby flagisallus. “I'm all right!” he shouted.
From above, Rodney beamed down at him, and the sight was more beautiful than the sun breaking through the waves on a summer morning.
Yes, he just might learn to love it here after all.
The following days were filled with wonders; Rodney opened the doors to the city, and John walked through into discovery after miraculous discovery. He placed his hands here, and here, and here, and the city breathed again. Late at night, John thought he could actually hear it singing.
And then Rodney took him to see the hangar.
John stared, turning slowly. “You've been saving this, haven't you?”
Rodney rocked on the balls of his feet, a smug smile on his face. “Yup. We have a couple of pilots, but they're all gene therapy recipients, and the learning curve has been pretty flat. I can't get Carson near one of these things.”
John walked up to the nearest ship and touched its hull. It seemed to vibrate under his fingertips. He thought about his flights through the water, and wondered what it would be like to fly through the vacuum of space, with nothing to hold him back, to slow him down.
“Okay,” he said, turning back to Rodney. “Let's try it.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“This is amazing!” John exclaimed, staring down in wonder at the planet below.
Rodney nodded mutely, but in truth he couldn't be bothered with the view; he hadn't been able to take his eyes off John for some time now. There were two main reasons for this: first, as soon as John sat down, the ship lit up for him like it had been waiting for him for ten thousand years. John had spent about five minutes studying its controls, calling up HUDs Rodney had never seen before and grinning hugely, and then he'd touched a console and closed his eyes briefly and the ship had nudged forward, then up. Eyes shining, John had laughed, then sat back and proceeded to steer the ship with his mind.
However, the more important reason for Rodney's rapt attention was number two: as soon as the atmosphere thinned around them, the blue of sky yielding to stars, John's face had acquired a look that told Rodney in no uncertain terms that John had never seen outer space before. Rodney knew this because it matched the look on half the expedition member's faces the first time they'd stepped through the wormhole to Atlantis. And that blew Rodney's theory of John's origins straight to hell.
He tried to recall the exact exchange when Elizabeth had finally had a chance to question John thoroughly about his people. John hadn't actually told them he'd been abandoned on Atlantis by a spaceship, but he hadn't said he hadn't, either. Now that Rodney thought about it, he realized they'd all just assumed he'd been dropped off by a cloaked, orbiting vessel, since he hadn't come from the city or through the gate, and he couldn't have come from the mainland. Rodney had privately formed the theory that he'd been beamed down by technology similar to the Asgard devices, although he now admitted privately that he'd had no solid evidence for that hypothesis.
If John came from the Lantean world, but hadn't originated on Atlantis or the mainland, that meant he had to have come from the sea. Which was ridiculous, because people couldn't live in the ocean, and -
- just because John had turned up in or near the ocean both times -
- and had been stark naked when he was found by Zelenka's team -
John turned toward him, his expression so joyous it almost hurt to look at it. “Rodney? Are you all right?”
“Fine, I'm fine,” Rodney assured him. “I'm just - I think there was something wrong with that chicken salad sandwich at lunch.”
“Oh,” John said, smile fading. “We should go back, then.”
“Maybe that would be best,” Rodney managed.
John closed his eyes for a moment, and the ship banked gently, taking them home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“He's a what?”
“A mermaid! I mean, a merman!” Rodney hissed, casting a look over his shoulder at Carson's nurse. She seemed to be still out of earshot, thank God.
Carson smiled indulgently. Rodney considered smacking him. “Really, Rodney. Have you been sleeping well lately?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or at all?”
“Oh, God, please, let's agree never to discuss my sex life, okay? Just tell me, what did you find when you examined him after he got here?”
“I found exactly what I wrote in my report: that he was a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy human male. No sign of webbed toes or scales.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Rodney said. “Obviously he can change, just like -” He cut himself off.
“Just like Daryl Hannah? Is that what you were about to say, Rodney?” He leaned closer. “You do understand the difference between movies and real life, I take it?”
“In case you haven't noticed, we're living inside a science fiction movie,” Rodney snapped. “Let's try to keep an open mind here.”
“Fine,” Carson said heavily. “I believe I still have a blood sample. I'll run a full DNA analysis in the morning, all right?”
“Thank you,” Rodney said.
“Rodney,” Carson said carefully, “I know we're not supposed to talk about it, but could it be that you’re trying to find reasons to sabotage this relationship?”
Rodney's answer was to aim his most deadly glare at Carson, spin on his heel, and leave the medical bay.
The truth was that he'd been thinking precisely the same thing, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Rodney returned to his quarters, they were empty. He looked around the dimly lit room, taking in the way John's things were now completely mingled with his own. It was more than a little frightening how easily John had fit into Rodney's life, when no one in the past had managed it with any degree of success. Really, it would make perfect sense if his ideal mate turned out to be some kind of sideshow freak.
Rodney sat heavily on the bed, placing his head in his hands.
And then he heard the singing.
“I hear that train a comin’, it’s rollin’ round the bend...”
Rodney rose to his feet and walked over to the closed bathroom door. “John?”
“And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know whennn -”
Rodney rapped on the door, hard. “John!”
The singing stopped abruptly, and there was the sound of splashing. “Rodney?”
“What's going on?”
“I'm taking a bath,” John said, as though he was explaining something to a small child, “and singing.”
“I caught that. Could you let me in, please?”
“Door's not locked.”
Rodney thought open at the door, but nothing happened. “Yes, it is!” Rodney shouted. “Come on!”
There was more splashing. “Try harder,” John said. “You need to practice your control. If you can't open doors, you're never going to be able to fly a jumper.”
Rodney frowned, momentarily brought up short. “A jumper?”
“A puddlejumper. That's what I decided to call the ships. They're shaped almost exactly like these amphibians we have where I come from that live in tidal pools -”
Rodney pounded on the door with his open palm. “Dammit, John, open this door! What's going on in there you don't want me to see?”
“Nothing!” John shouted back. “I just want you to - oh, never mind, here,” he sighed. And suddenly the door whooshed open to reveal -
John looking up at him from the bathtub, where he lay with his feet propped up on the edge. His two perfectly normal feet, attached to his two perfectly normal legs.
“Oh,” Rodney said.
John's mouth curved into a sly smile, and he crooked an inviting finger at Rodney. “Come on in, the water's fine.”
And Rodney might have been insecure, paranoid and pathologically incapable of being truly happy in a relationship, but he wasn't stupid, which was why he grinned back and started stripping with only a moment's hesitation.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“You were right,” Carson told him the next day.
Rodney's jaw dropped. “I - what?”
“You were right,” Carson repeated. “I still don't know how it's possible, but he's from this planet, and he's probably an ocean dweller.”
“You found something in his DNA?”
Carson shook his head. “Nothing other than an extremely pure expression of the ATA gene, but then we were expecting that. No, this discovery came when I took another look at the blood sample itself.” He motioned Rodney over to a large computer monitor and pressed a button. The screen lit up to present a side-by-side view of two charts. They appeared to Rodney as an indecipherable series of horizontal lines of varying lengths, but one thing was clear: the patterns were nearly identical.
“What am I looking at?”
“On the left, we have a detailed analysis of John's blood chemistry,” Carson said. “On the right, we have the latest analysis of the chemical composition of Lantean sea water.”
Rodney knew just enough biochemistry to feel a chill at that revelation. “But humans didn't evolve on this world.”
“I know. Neither did the Ancients. It's an adaptation, however, that could hypothetically result after millennia of - well, basically living and breathing in the planet's ocean.”
“Oh my God,” Rodney whispered.
“You realize we'll have to bring these findings to Elizabeth,” Carson said.
“Oh, and what are we going to say?” Rodney snapped. “'Well, Elizabeth, the thing is, he's a fish'? We don't have any proof.”
“This is proof enough. Or at least ample reason for some further questioning. If there's an entire race of people who are living right beneath us -”
“People our scans of the planet failed to pick up, so obviously they're shielded, which suggests an advanced technology.”
“And your point is?”
Rodney huffed out a breath. “John told us that his people were extremely xenophobic. You really think they're going to want to talk to us? Or do you think trying to make contact with them might just piss them off?”
“She should be told,” Carson insisted stubbornly. “His military escort was relieved partly on my recommendation. Now that I have new evidence he's not been honest with us -”
“Look,” Rodney said, desperate now, “he's not doing us any harm. Neither are they. Can we just - wait a little while? I want to see if I can get him to tell me on his own. If I can get him to - to trust me.”
“That might not happen,” Carson said, gently, “and Rodney, it wouldn't be your fault. He might have other reasons...”
“Please,” Rodney said. “Run some more tests? Rule out all the other possibilities. I have to be - I can't screw this up,” he finished, spreading his hands.
Carson watched him for a long moment. “Very well,” he huffed finally. “I suppose I must consider other theories before leaping to conclusions.”
“Thank you,” Rodney breathed.
“Don't thank me,” Carson shot back. “I don't know how long I'll be able to delude myself that I'm doing the right thing.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The following week passed in a whirlwind of activity. Rodney and his team progressed ten times faster with John's help than they ever could have without it, so his work life was going incredibly well. His personal life included hot and regular sex with an utterly gorgeous man who seemed to like him, so really, he should have been on top of the world.
However, it was at the intersection of the personal and the professional that everything went to shit. Every night, Rodney lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of subtle ways to broach the subject about John’s origins. But his genius didn’t extend to figuring out ways to talk to mermen about their - mermanness, and so with each new day, the subject remained unexplored.
He was in the lab, contemplating an improved algorithm for the naquadah generator-city systems interface, when beside him, John's whole body suddenly jerked.
“What's wrong?” he asked, immediately alarmed. John had been working on something they believed to be an Ancient learning toy, and for a moment Rodney feared it had harmed him somehow. John wasn't touching the device, though, and it lay before him on the table, dark and inert.
John stared off into space for a moment, then shook himself. “Nothing. Do you - mind if I take a break?”
Rodney shook his head. “No, of course not, go ahead,” and John leapt up and was out the door so quickly that he created a breeze. Radek shot Rodney an inquisitive glance; ignoring it, Rodney turned back to his laptop.
More than half an hour later, John still hadn't returned, and Rodney's blood sugar was approaching dangerously low levels. He was on his way to the mess when he received a call.
“Doctor McKay, this is Doctor Penfield.” the unfamiliar voice said. “Marine biology.”
Rodney kept walking. “Good afternoon,” he said brusquely.
“I hear you've been - working with our visitor, Mister Shepherd,” Penfield ventured, as though it wasn't known to every last soul on the station that Rodney and John were living together.
“Cut to the chase, will you, Penfield?” Rodney huffed. “They've got the really good meatloaf on today.”
“Right,” Penfield said, clearing his throat. “Well, would you be able to tell me why he's a hundred yards off the East Pier, swimming with a pod of flagisallus?”
Rodney stopped so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet. “He's swimming with fla- what did you say?”
“Flagisallus. They're a type of fish found in the Lantean ocean - very large, sperm whale size or larger. We've been studying them, and had tagged a couple with transmitters -”
“Yes, yes,” Rodney said, snapping his fingers. “Can we please get back to the part about the man in the water?”
“One of my teammates was studying the pod's social behavior with a remote controlled camera and saw Shepherd swimming out to them about twenty minutes ago.” There was a pause. “He - I know this sounds crazy, but he seems to know them. And what's crazier is that - they seem to know him.”
Rodney turned and began running in the direction he'd come. “I'm on my way.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thanks to John, they'd discovered the transporters last week, and so the half hour trip to the East Pier now took less than ten minutes. By the time he reached his destination, the whales - fish - whatever - were gone, and John was well on his way back to the pier. Rodney noted with a sick sense of detachment that he was swimming in an undulating motion with his legs together and head down, only occasionally surfacing for air.
He tried to organize his thoughts, to plan a strategy. The biologists would have this on film, or rather a digital movie file. It’d be easy enough to hack into the mainframe and make that disappear, but they'd be reporting to Elizabeth in either case, and God, God, there was no way around it, he'd have to -
Below him, John heaved himself up onto the lowest step and lay gasping for air like a dying salmon. Alarmed, Rodney ran down the stairs, heedless of the danger, and hauled John up the steps. For the first time, John’s skin was much colder than Rodney's, and his arms and legs were covered in goosebumps.
“Jesus Christ,” Rodney breathed. “We have to get you to Beckett.”
“M'fine,” John managed, teeth chattering. “Just need to - get warm.”
“All right, come on,” Rodney said, leading him toward the nearest transporter, his arm tightly clasped around John's trembling, suddenly fragile-seeming shoulders.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Rodney ran a hot bath for John, and then, when he was fairly certain John wasn't going to drown in a foot and a half of water, he ran to the mess for a pot of tea and chocolate. He fed John over his weak protests, alternating between berating him and compulsively stroking his face, his ears, his shoulders, any bit of him that dared to poke up above the water.
“It helps to restore your circulation,” Rodney argued, when John glanced up at him over the rim of the mug clutched in his hands.
“I know, Rodney,” John murmured, gaze softening.
They didn't talk about it at first. Rodney used up every towel drying John off, then bundled him into a pair of his sweatpants and the warmest sweater he'd brought with him from Earth and put him to bed. When he turned to go, John caught his hand and held it fast.
“Stay with me,” he murmured. “Please.”
Rodney's heart hammered against his ribs. God, how he wanted to. “I have to get back to the lab,” he said, voice rough.
John shook his head sadly. “No. You have to report to Doctor Weir about me.”
Rodney sucked in a shuddering breath and looked down at their joined hands so that he wouldn’t have to look directly at John. “I'd rather you talked to her, after you've had a chance to rest.”
“I wish I had the time,” John said sadly, “but I don't. My brother is coming for me when the tide is high, late tonight.”
Rodney sat on the edge of the bed, his legs suddenly gone weak. “You - you're leaving?”
“I have to. My father - he's very sick. He - apparently he regrets what he did to me.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “He says he wants to see me.”
Rodney raised his head and frowned. "But I saw you - in the water. You're not - I mean, you don't -"
John clenched his jaw. "I know. I'm not as I once was."
Rodney hesitated. He couldn't believe he was going to ask this. "Can you change back?"
"No." He met Rodney's gaze. "At least - I don't think so."
"Well, you're not going in the water again without a wet suit, then," Rodney said firmly. "And scuba gear." He waved a hand at John's puzzled look. "Never mind. Just - it'll keep you safe."
"Oh," John said softly, ducking his head. "Thank you."
Rodney could feel his face heat. "I'm not going to have you drowning out there, that's all." He lifted his chin. “So you go back. Then what?”
“I was going to ask you that,” John murmured, squeezing Rodney's hand.
Rodney was surprised to find he wasn't feeling angry, merely hollow and strangely detached. Now that John was no longer in danger of hypothermia, the reality of it all crashed over him like a wave. It was easier not to fight, just to let it carry him out to sea.
“It's not up to me,” he said, as evenly as he could manage. “It'll be Elizabeth's decision.”
John's Adam's apple bobbed. “But if it were up to you,” he persisted, “would you want me to - come back? To stay?”
“What do you want from me?” Rodney whispered.
“The truth,” John said simply.
Rodney laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, well, now that's a little ironic, don't you think?” Okay, that - that was anger. Definitely. He recognized that.
John looked as though he'd been slapped. “Rodney, I didn't want to lie to you.”
“Then why did you?” Rodney asked, hating the hurt in his voice. He'd been expecting this, he told himself; he'd been smarter than this. Not surprisingly, it didn't help.
Now John looked down at Rodney's hand, still clutched in his. “My people were once Ancients - I suppose we still are. But our ancestors hated the way their comrades constantly meddled in the affairs of humans. They hated the way they set themselves above them as gods, and they were sure that arrogance would lead them to ruin. When the wraith came, and the Replicators defied them, they took it as a sign the end was near.”
“They decided to remove themselves from Atlantis,” Rodney said slowly, “from all of it.”
“Yes. They wanted a simpler life, where nothing could touch them.” He smiled thinly. “They haven't changed much. I've never wanted to live like that, so afraid to take risks - but I suppose deep down I respect it. I'd never want to hurt them” - he looked up - “or to force my choices on them.”
Rodney nodded. “Okay, yes, I get that, I do. Thank you - for explaining.”
John frowned. “Rodney - ”
Rodney tried to free his hand, but John's grip was unshakeable. “Look, I just really need to -”
“I love you, Rodney,” John said, a little desperately.
Rodney's eyes squeezed shut. “Please. Don't.”
“I've always loved this city, but I never knew why,” John continued, heedless of Rodney's plea. “Now I do. It was because one day, you would be here.”
Rodney glared at John. “For God's sake, stop,” he growled. “You don't - people don't talk like that.”
“Why not?” John asked.
“Because,” Rodney blustered, “that's like saying I'm your - your destiny.”
John arched an eyebrow in a way that Rodney had come to know meant duh, Earth man.
“Oh, for - ” Rodney huffed, “that - you can't be serious!”
“Luke Skywalker had a destiny,” John said mulishly. “Even R2D2 had a destiny. Why can't you be my destiny?”
“Because -” Rodney trailed off, took a deep breath. “Because one day you'll wake up and wonder what the hell you could have been thinking, and you'll leave,” he blurted.
John shook his head slowly. “Rodney -”
“I'm not the nicest person in the galaxy. Or the nicest person on this expedition. Or even in this room.”
The corner of John's mouth jerked. “I don't mind.”
“I hog the covers.”
John appeared to think about it. “Nope, don't mind that, either.” His thumb stroked the inside of Rodney's wrist, and Rodney sucked in a breath.
“I'm going bald?” Rodney said weakly.
John threaded his hands through Rodney's hair. “I'd better enjoy this while I can, then,” he murmured, leaning in to capture Rodney's lips with his own.
Oh, Rodney thought, hand flattening against John's chest to push him away, then curling helplessly in the sweater when John hooked an arm around the back of his neck and deepened the kiss.
“This is the truth,” John whispered in his ear, “this, just this. Rodney, please, I want to come back, I want you, this life. With you - believe me, Rodney, believe -”
Rodney thought, this doesn't happen in real life, and he thought this is crazy and don't be stupid, and then he buried his face in John's neck and told himself to shut the hell up. “Yes,” he whispered back, fingers stealing under heavy wool to touch the warm, living skin of his destiny. “Okay, I - yes. Yes.”
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
“What do you call that one?” Rodney asked, pointing to a crescent-shaped cluster of stars near the southern horizon.
John leaned in and lined his gaze up with Rodney's. “Hm. That would be Medusa's Left Ass Cheek.”
Rodney snorted. “Ha ha.”
“Well, that's what I used to call it. What can I say? I'd just hit puberty and everything I saw resembled an erogenous zone.” He shook his head. “Anyway, my people forgot the Ancient names for the constellations thousands of years ago. After a while, they just stopped looking up.”
Rodney turned his head to look at John. He'd returned from his visit over a week ago, but they hadn't talked about it. Things had been stressful enough, what with Elizabeth coming close to grounding both him and Carson and Sumner pushing to have John placed in solitary confinement and fed on bread and water for the rest of his life. When John came back, he'd defused the whole situation by bringing along his brother, who was apparently the new leader of his people. He'd answered all of their questions, told them very kindly and politely to fuck off and leave them alone, and then had put his arms around John and held him very tightly while John stared off across the water, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Rodney cleared his throat. “I'm sorry about your dad,” he murmured.
John remained silent for a few moments. “It's okay,” he said finally. “We got to - to talk.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “He was at peace with this world when he left it.”
“That's - good,” Rodney said. “I'm glad.”
“Yeah,” John agreed. He wiped a hand across his eyes, and Rodney lifted his gaze to the stars again for a moment.
“So do you think you'd like to get up there again?” Rodney asked, completely nonchalant.
John frowned. “Up where?” He pointed skyward, and Rodney nodded. John's face fell. “You know I would. But it's not up to me.”
Rodney bit his tongue to keep from grinning. John had been on his best behavior for Elizabeth and Sumner since he'd come back. He'd worked with Penfield's team, telling them everything he knew about the flagisallus and summoning one for them to study and attempt to communicate with. When he hadn't been doing that, he'd been teaching the linguists his language and turning on every last piece of the city that people asked him to turn on. The marine biologists and linguists adored him, the physicists and engineers worshiped him, and last Thursday he'd made everyone's year by discovering some rich Ancient's secret stash of really good porn. An important cultural find, the sociologists said, while everyone else took the rest of the afternoon off and retired to their bunks.
But through all of this, Rodney knew that John had been yearning for only one thing: to be back behind the controls of a puddlejumper someday, sooner rather than later. The problem was, Sumner had been dead set against it, and Elizabeth had been inclined to follow his lead for a change.
That was, until Rodney pointed out that at the rate the ham-fisted Milky Way galaxy types were going, they'd never learn how to fly the damn things.
“Rodney?”
“Hm?”
John propped himself up on an elbow. “You know something, don't you?”
This time the grin slipped free. “Now, why would you say that?”
“Rodney,” John warned, sliding an arm up Rodney's chest, “what's going on? What?” He pinched Rodney's nipple through his shirt, and Rodney yelped in surprise.
“Can I just point out, the threat of more nipple-pinching may be an ineffective strategy for you achieving what you want here,” he said.
“Rodney,” John growled, and the low sound went right to Rodney's cock.
“All right, all right, tomorrow Elizabeth is putting you in charge of the jumper training! Are you happy now? Because she bet me I wouldn't be able to wait until she told you in the morning, and now I'm out an entire Caramilk bar, and do you have any idea how scarce those are getting? No you don't, Mr. Man from Atlan -”
John rolled him over onto his back then and kissed him soundly, and Rodney wrapped both arms around him and held on as tightly as he could. “Yeah,” John breathed, when they finally parted, “I'm happy now.”
Rodney smiled, and John kissed the edges of it, each peck a star in a new constellation. This was so worth a lousy Caramilk bar.
End
Final Feetnotes
Latin terms: pastoris and opilio - shepherd; muraena - eel.
Music credit: John sings the opening lines of "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash.
Hidden Depths
Part 2 of 2
John woke late that night with a start. Once he’d managed to calm his racing heart, he realized that Rodney lay in his arms, nose pressed against his shoulder, breathing shallow and regular. As he turned his head, Rodney’s hair tickled the underside of his chin, and John found himself reveling in that simple sensation.
Rodney, he thought, smiling to himself. All these years, he’d convinced himself he preferred to be alone because there was no other choice, but now that he was here, he knew he’d been waiting for this, for the chance to touch and be touched, to see Rodney’s face flushed and joyous with desire, to live this quiet, early morning moment. The future might be uncertain and unknowable, but this was worth risking everything. He closed his eyes, intending to drift slowly back to sleep carried along on the current of Rodney’s soft breaths. Before he could, however, he finally heard what had awakened him.
The heartbeat had changed.
As the city had risen, John had finally heard the city's pulse, sped up to normal rate, pumping life back into the halls and rooms and spires. Since he'd arrived, he'd noticed it had slowed once again, but now it was different. Weakening, fading, crying for someone to hear it.
As though urged on by a force beyond his control, John untangled himself carefully from Rodney's sleep-warm body and dressed in the dark, then padded out into the hall on bare feet. The guard outside was a new one, a young man who seemed surprised to see him.
“Hello,” John said, sticking out his hand in the way he'd learned. “I'm John Shepherd.”
The young man gripped his hand and shook it. “Lieutenant Aiden Ford.”
“I need to go for a walk. Is that okay?”
“Fill your - uh, boots,” Aiden said, glancing at John's feet. “I just have to come along, all right?”
John smiled. “Sure.”
“Where are we going?”
John closed his eyes for a moment, listening, then started walking. “Hell if I know, Aiden.”
They walked for over an hour, until John could feel Aiden vibrating with impatience beside him. Finally, they reached a door, and John knew this was the place, for the pulse was pounding in his ears, his blood, his bones.
He laid a palm against the door. I know it hurts. I’m coming.
“Uh, Mr. Shepherd. Is this the place?”
John blinked, and was surprised when tears rolled down his cheeks. “Yes,” he said, roughly. He thought open, and the doors parted.
“Hey, how did you - ” Aiden stopped, brought up short, John imagined, by the old woman standing before them in the dimly lit chamber, her skin as pale as death itself.
“You should call your Doctor Beckett,” John said. “Quickly.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Five days later, everyone was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster, none more so than Elizabeth, who'd gotten to see herself die of old age, and then had attended her own funeral. Rodney's brain was torn between wanting to run in fifty different new and exciting directions thanks to all they'd learned, to screaming out his horror at all they'd learned. For the first time in his life, he wished he had an off switch, just so that he could get a few hours' uninterrupted rest.
After finding the other Elizabeth, John had hovered on the edges of the situation, a quiet presence that had steadied Rodney, given him comfort. Now, as they sat on the couch together, Rodney with his tie loose and jacket finally gone, John still in his borrowed suit, Rodney realized he hadn't told John how much that had meant to him. He turned and saw that John was staring straight ahead of him, gaze hollow and distant. It chilled him to the bone.
“John?” No reaction; Rodney placed a hand on his arm, and John jerked, startling them both. “Sorry, sorry. You just - are you okay?”
“I don't know,” John said, hoarsely. “I miss her.”
Rodney frowned, confused. From what he'd seen, John had barely spoken to the other Elizabeth, and he'd only known her for a few days. Nevertheless, it was clear John was in pain, and it bothered him that he had no idea how to fix it. “I'm sorry,” he said helplessly.
John took a deep breath, let it out. “What now?”
“Well, I was going to change and head to the lab. She gave us lots of fascinating information, and I don't want to waste a moment. It seems - disrespectful - not to get right to work. Does that make sense?”
John smiled faintly. “I understand, Rodney.”
And wow, Rodney had to be hallucinating the 'you' in there, he knew that, but something in John's gaze and his soft tone made his heart do cartwheels, even in the state he was in. “You should come, too,” he blurted.
John frowned. “Me?” There was surprise in the word, and something else: a spark of interest, Rodney hoped.
“Yes, you. You've got some kind of special connection to the city, just like you had to Elizabeth.”
John shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “I wouldn't say special -”
“I would. When I was hurt, it was you who raised the alarm, told the city where to find me. How did you do that?”
John shook his head slowly. “I don't know,” he said. “I've always -” he clamped his mouth shut. “I don't know.”
Rodney leaned in. “Would you like to find out?”
John looked at him for what seemed like an eternity, while Rodney held his breath.
“Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, I would.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Rodney!” Elizabeth cried out, as John went head first over the balcony railing.
John bounded to his feet and waved his arms. He felt giddy and happy and alive, like the eager four-year-old he’d once been, clinging to the back of a baby flagisallus. “I'm all right!” he shouted.
From above, Rodney beamed down at him, and the sight was more beautiful than the sun breaking through the waves on a summer morning.
Yes, he just might learn to love it here after all.
The following days were filled with wonders; Rodney opened the doors to the city, and John walked through into discovery after miraculous discovery. He placed his hands here, and here, and here, and the city breathed again. Late at night, John thought he could actually hear it singing.
And then Rodney took him to see the hangar.
John stared, turning slowly. “You've been saving this, haven't you?”
Rodney rocked on the balls of his feet, a smug smile on his face. “Yup. We have a couple of pilots, but they're all gene therapy recipients, and the learning curve has been pretty flat. I can't get Carson near one of these things.”
John walked up to the nearest ship and touched its hull. It seemed to vibrate under his fingertips. He thought about his flights through the water, and wondered what it would be like to fly through the vacuum of space, with nothing to hold him back, to slow him down.
“Okay,” he said, turning back to Rodney. “Let's try it.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“This is amazing!” John exclaimed, staring down in wonder at the planet below.
Rodney nodded mutely, but in truth he couldn't be bothered with the view; he hadn't been able to take his eyes off John for some time now. There were two main reasons for this: first, as soon as John sat down, the ship lit up for him like it had been waiting for him for ten thousand years. John had spent about five minutes studying its controls, calling up HUDs Rodney had never seen before and grinning hugely, and then he'd touched a console and closed his eyes briefly and the ship had nudged forward, then up. Eyes shining, John had laughed, then sat back and proceeded to steer the ship with his mind.
However, the more important reason for Rodney's rapt attention was number two: as soon as the atmosphere thinned around them, the blue of sky yielding to stars, John's face had acquired a look that told Rodney in no uncertain terms that John had never seen outer space before. Rodney knew this because it matched the look on half the expedition member's faces the first time they'd stepped through the wormhole to Atlantis. And that blew Rodney's theory of John's origins straight to hell.
He tried to recall the exact exchange when Elizabeth had finally had a chance to question John thoroughly about his people. John hadn't actually told them he'd been abandoned on Atlantis by a spaceship, but he hadn't said he hadn't, either. Now that Rodney thought about it, he realized they'd all just assumed he'd been dropped off by a cloaked, orbiting vessel, since he hadn't come from the city or through the gate, and he couldn't have come from the mainland. Rodney had privately formed the theory that he'd been beamed down by technology similar to the Asgard devices, although he now admitted privately that he'd had no solid evidence for that hypothesis.
If John came from the Lantean world, but hadn't originated on Atlantis or the mainland, that meant he had to have come from the sea. Which was ridiculous, because people couldn't live in the ocean, and -
- just because John had turned up in or near the ocean both times -
- and had been stark naked when he was found by Zelenka's team -
John turned toward him, his expression so joyous it almost hurt to look at it. “Rodney? Are you all right?”
“Fine, I'm fine,” Rodney assured him. “I'm just - I think there was something wrong with that chicken salad sandwich at lunch.”
“Oh,” John said, smile fading. “We should go back, then.”
“Maybe that would be best,” Rodney managed.
John closed his eyes for a moment, and the ship banked gently, taking them home.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“He's a what?”
“A mermaid! I mean, a merman!” Rodney hissed, casting a look over his shoulder at Carson's nurse. She seemed to be still out of earshot, thank God.
Carson smiled indulgently. Rodney considered smacking him. “Really, Rodney. Have you been sleeping well lately?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Or at all?”
“Oh, God, please, let's agree never to discuss my sex life, okay? Just tell me, what did you find when you examined him after he got here?”
“I found exactly what I wrote in my report: that he was a perfectly normal, perfectly healthy human male. No sign of webbed toes or scales.”
“Oh, ha ha,” Rodney said. “Obviously he can change, just like -” He cut himself off.
“Just like Daryl Hannah? Is that what you were about to say, Rodney?” He leaned closer. “You do understand the difference between movies and real life, I take it?”
“In case you haven't noticed, we're living inside a science fiction movie,” Rodney snapped. “Let's try to keep an open mind here.”
“Fine,” Carson said heavily. “I believe I still have a blood sample. I'll run a full DNA analysis in the morning, all right?”
“Thank you,” Rodney said.
“Rodney,” Carson said carefully, “I know we're not supposed to talk about it, but could it be that you’re trying to find reasons to sabotage this relationship?”
Rodney's answer was to aim his most deadly glare at Carson, spin on his heel, and leave the medical bay.
The truth was that he'd been thinking precisely the same thing, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
When Rodney returned to his quarters, they were empty. He looked around the dimly lit room, taking in the way John's things were now completely mingled with his own. It was more than a little frightening how easily John had fit into Rodney's life, when no one in the past had managed it with any degree of success. Really, it would make perfect sense if his ideal mate turned out to be some kind of sideshow freak.
Rodney sat heavily on the bed, placing his head in his hands.
And then he heard the singing.
“I hear that train a comin’, it’s rollin’ round the bend...”
Rodney rose to his feet and walked over to the closed bathroom door. “John?”
“And I ain’t seen the sunshine since I don’t know whennn -”
Rodney rapped on the door, hard. “John!”
The singing stopped abruptly, and there was the sound of splashing. “Rodney?”
“What's going on?”
“I'm taking a bath,” John said, as though he was explaining something to a small child, “and singing.”
“I caught that. Could you let me in, please?”
“Door's not locked.”
Rodney thought open at the door, but nothing happened. “Yes, it is!” Rodney shouted. “Come on!”
There was more splashing. “Try harder,” John said. “You need to practice your control. If you can't open doors, you're never going to be able to fly a jumper.”
Rodney frowned, momentarily brought up short. “A jumper?”
“A puddlejumper. That's what I decided to call the ships. They're shaped almost exactly like these amphibians we have where I come from that live in tidal pools -”
Rodney pounded on the door with his open palm. “Dammit, John, open this door! What's going on in there you don't want me to see?”
“Nothing!” John shouted back. “I just want you to - oh, never mind, here,” he sighed. And suddenly the door whooshed open to reveal -
John looking up at him from the bathtub, where he lay with his feet propped up on the edge. His two perfectly normal feet, attached to his two perfectly normal legs.
“Oh,” Rodney said.
John's mouth curved into a sly smile, and he crooked an inviting finger at Rodney. “Come on in, the water's fine.”
And Rodney might have been insecure, paranoid and pathologically incapable of being truly happy in a relationship, but he wasn't stupid, which was why he grinned back and started stripping with only a moment's hesitation.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“You were right,” Carson told him the next day.
Rodney's jaw dropped. “I - what?”
“You were right,” Carson repeated. “I still don't know how it's possible, but he's from this planet, and he's probably an ocean dweller.”
“You found something in his DNA?”
Carson shook his head. “Nothing other than an extremely pure expression of the ATA gene, but then we were expecting that. No, this discovery came when I took another look at the blood sample itself.” He motioned Rodney over to a large computer monitor and pressed a button. The screen lit up to present a side-by-side view of two charts. They appeared to Rodney as an indecipherable series of horizontal lines of varying lengths, but one thing was clear: the patterns were nearly identical.
“What am I looking at?”
“On the left, we have a detailed analysis of John's blood chemistry,” Carson said. “On the right, we have the latest analysis of the chemical composition of Lantean sea water.”
Rodney knew just enough biochemistry to feel a chill at that revelation. “But humans didn't evolve on this world.”
“I know. Neither did the Ancients. It's an adaptation, however, that could hypothetically result after millennia of - well, basically living and breathing in the planet's ocean.”
“Oh my God,” Rodney whispered.
“You realize we'll have to bring these findings to Elizabeth,” Carson said.
“Oh, and what are we going to say?” Rodney snapped. “'Well, Elizabeth, the thing is, he's a fish'? We don't have any proof.”
“This is proof enough. Or at least ample reason for some further questioning. If there's an entire race of people who are living right beneath us -”
“People our scans of the planet failed to pick up, so obviously they're shielded, which suggests an advanced technology.”
“And your point is?”
Rodney huffed out a breath. “John told us that his people were extremely xenophobic. You really think they're going to want to talk to us? Or do you think trying to make contact with them might just piss them off?”
“She should be told,” Carson insisted stubbornly. “His military escort was relieved partly on my recommendation. Now that I have new evidence he's not been honest with us -”
“Look,” Rodney said, desperate now, “he's not doing us any harm. Neither are they. Can we just - wait a little while? I want to see if I can get him to tell me on his own. If I can get him to - to trust me.”
“That might not happen,” Carson said, gently, “and Rodney, it wouldn't be your fault. He might have other reasons...”
“Please,” Rodney said. “Run some more tests? Rule out all the other possibilities. I have to be - I can't screw this up,” he finished, spreading his hands.
Carson watched him for a long moment. “Very well,” he huffed finally. “I suppose I must consider other theories before leaping to conclusions.”
“Thank you,” Rodney breathed.
“Don't thank me,” Carson shot back. “I don't know how long I'll be able to delude myself that I'm doing the right thing.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The following week passed in a whirlwind of activity. Rodney and his team progressed ten times faster with John's help than they ever could have without it, so his work life was going incredibly well. His personal life included hot and regular sex with an utterly gorgeous man who seemed to like him, so really, he should have been on top of the world.
However, it was at the intersection of the personal and the professional that everything went to shit. Every night, Rodney lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of subtle ways to broach the subject about John’s origins. But his genius didn’t extend to figuring out ways to talk to mermen about their - mermanness, and so with each new day, the subject remained unexplored.
He was in the lab, contemplating an improved algorithm for the naquadah generator-city systems interface, when beside him, John's whole body suddenly jerked.
“What's wrong?” he asked, immediately alarmed. John had been working on something they believed to be an Ancient learning toy, and for a moment Rodney feared it had harmed him somehow. John wasn't touching the device, though, and it lay before him on the table, dark and inert.
John stared off into space for a moment, then shook himself. “Nothing. Do you - mind if I take a break?”
Rodney shook his head. “No, of course not, go ahead,” and John leapt up and was out the door so quickly that he created a breeze. Radek shot Rodney an inquisitive glance; ignoring it, Rodney turned back to his laptop.
More than half an hour later, John still hadn't returned, and Rodney's blood sugar was approaching dangerously low levels. He was on his way to the mess when he received a call.
“Doctor McKay, this is Doctor Penfield.” the unfamiliar voice said. “Marine biology.”
Rodney kept walking. “Good afternoon,” he said brusquely.
“I hear you've been - working with our visitor, Mister Shepherd,” Penfield ventured, as though it wasn't known to every last soul on the station that Rodney and John were living together.
“Cut to the chase, will you, Penfield?” Rodney huffed. “They've got the really good meatloaf on today.”
“Right,” Penfield said, clearing his throat. “Well, would you be able to tell me why he's a hundred yards off the East Pier, swimming with a pod of flagisallus?”
Rodney stopped so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet. “He's swimming with fla- what did you say?”
“Flagisallus. They're a type of fish found in the Lantean ocean - very large, sperm whale size or larger. We've been studying them, and had tagged a couple with transmitters -”
“Yes, yes,” Rodney said, snapping his fingers. “Can we please get back to the part about the man in the water?”
“One of my teammates was studying the pod's social behavior with a remote controlled camera and saw Shepherd swimming out to them about twenty minutes ago.” There was a pause. “He - I know this sounds crazy, but he seems to know them. And what's crazier is that - they seem to know him.”
Rodney turned and began running in the direction he'd come. “I'm on my way.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thanks to John, they'd discovered the transporters last week, and so the half hour trip to the East Pier now took less than ten minutes. By the time he reached his destination, the whales - fish - whatever - were gone, and John was well on his way back to the pier. Rodney noted with a sick sense of detachment that he was swimming in an undulating motion with his legs together and head down, only occasionally surfacing for air.
He tried to organize his thoughts, to plan a strategy. The biologists would have this on film, or rather a digital movie file. It’d be easy enough to hack into the mainframe and make that disappear, but they'd be reporting to Elizabeth in either case, and God, God, there was no way around it, he'd have to -
Below him, John heaved himself up onto the lowest step and lay gasping for air like a dying salmon. Alarmed, Rodney ran down the stairs, heedless of the danger, and hauled John up the steps. For the first time, John’s skin was much colder than Rodney's, and his arms and legs were covered in goosebumps.
“Jesus Christ,” Rodney breathed. “We have to get you to Beckett.”
“M'fine,” John managed, teeth chattering. “Just need to - get warm.”
“All right, come on,” Rodney said, leading him toward the nearest transporter, his arm tightly clasped around John's trembling, suddenly fragile-seeming shoulders.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Rodney ran a hot bath for John, and then, when he was fairly certain John wasn't going to drown in a foot and a half of water, he ran to the mess for a pot of tea and chocolate. He fed John over his weak protests, alternating between berating him and compulsively stroking his face, his ears, his shoulders, any bit of him that dared to poke up above the water.
“It helps to restore your circulation,” Rodney argued, when John glanced up at him over the rim of the mug clutched in his hands.
“I know, Rodney,” John murmured, gaze softening.
They didn't talk about it at first. Rodney used up every towel drying John off, then bundled him into a pair of his sweatpants and the warmest sweater he'd brought with him from Earth and put him to bed. When he turned to go, John caught his hand and held it fast.
“Stay with me,” he murmured. “Please.”
Rodney's heart hammered against his ribs. God, how he wanted to. “I have to get back to the lab,” he said, voice rough.
John shook his head sadly. “No. You have to report to Doctor Weir about me.”
Rodney sucked in a shuddering breath and looked down at their joined hands so that he wouldn’t have to look directly at John. “I'd rather you talked to her, after you've had a chance to rest.”
“I wish I had the time,” John said sadly, “but I don't. My brother is coming for me when the tide is high, late tonight.”
Rodney sat on the edge of the bed, his legs suddenly gone weak. “You - you're leaving?”
“I have to. My father - he's very sick. He - apparently he regrets what he did to me.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “He says he wants to see me.”
Rodney raised his head and frowned. "But I saw you - in the water. You're not - I mean, you don't -"
John clenched his jaw. "I know. I'm not as I once was."
Rodney hesitated. He couldn't believe he was going to ask this. "Can you change back?"
"No." He met Rodney's gaze. "At least - I don't think so."
"Well, you're not going in the water again without a wet suit, then," Rodney said firmly. "And scuba gear." He waved a hand at John's puzzled look. "Never mind. Just - it'll keep you safe."
"Oh," John said softly, ducking his head. "Thank you."
Rodney could feel his face heat. "I'm not going to have you drowning out there, that's all." He lifted his chin. “So you go back. Then what?”
“I was going to ask you that,” John murmured, squeezing Rodney's hand.
Rodney was surprised to find he wasn't feeling angry, merely hollow and strangely detached. Now that John was no longer in danger of hypothermia, the reality of it all crashed over him like a wave. It was easier not to fight, just to let it carry him out to sea.
“It's not up to me,” he said, as evenly as he could manage. “It'll be Elizabeth's decision.”
John's Adam's apple bobbed. “But if it were up to you,” he persisted, “would you want me to - come back? To stay?”
“What do you want from me?” Rodney whispered.
“The truth,” John said simply.
Rodney laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, well, now that's a little ironic, don't you think?” Okay, that - that was anger. Definitely. He recognized that.
John looked as though he'd been slapped. “Rodney, I didn't want to lie to you.”
“Then why did you?” Rodney asked, hating the hurt in his voice. He'd been expecting this, he told himself; he'd been smarter than this. Not surprisingly, it didn't help.
Now John looked down at Rodney's hand, still clutched in his. “My people were once Ancients - I suppose we still are. But our ancestors hated the way their comrades constantly meddled in the affairs of humans. They hated the way they set themselves above them as gods, and they were sure that arrogance would lead them to ruin. When the wraith came, and the Replicators defied them, they took it as a sign the end was near.”
“They decided to remove themselves from Atlantis,” Rodney said slowly, “from all of it.”
“Yes. They wanted a simpler life, where nothing could touch them.” He smiled thinly. “They haven't changed much. I've never wanted to live like that, so afraid to take risks - but I suppose deep down I respect it. I'd never want to hurt them” - he looked up - “or to force my choices on them.”
Rodney nodded. “Okay, yes, I get that, I do. Thank you - for explaining.”
John frowned. “Rodney - ”
Rodney tried to free his hand, but John's grip was unshakeable. “Look, I just really need to -”
“I love you, Rodney,” John said, a little desperately.
Rodney's eyes squeezed shut. “Please. Don't.”
“I've always loved this city, but I never knew why,” John continued, heedless of Rodney's plea. “Now I do. It was because one day, you would be here.”
Rodney glared at John. “For God's sake, stop,” he growled. “You don't - people don't talk like that.”
“Why not?” John asked.
“Because,” Rodney blustered, “that's like saying I'm your - your destiny.”
John arched an eyebrow in a way that Rodney had come to know meant duh, Earth man.
“Oh, for - ” Rodney huffed, “that - you can't be serious!”
“Luke Skywalker had a destiny,” John said mulishly. “Even R2D2 had a destiny. Why can't you be my destiny?”
“Because -” Rodney trailed off, took a deep breath. “Because one day you'll wake up and wonder what the hell you could have been thinking, and you'll leave,” he blurted.
John shook his head slowly. “Rodney -”
“I'm not the nicest person in the galaxy. Or the nicest person on this expedition. Or even in this room.”
The corner of John's mouth jerked. “I don't mind.”
“I hog the covers.”
John appeared to think about it. “Nope, don't mind that, either.” His thumb stroked the inside of Rodney's wrist, and Rodney sucked in a breath.
“I'm going bald?” Rodney said weakly.
John threaded his hands through Rodney's hair. “I'd better enjoy this while I can, then,” he murmured, leaning in to capture Rodney's lips with his own.
Oh, Rodney thought, hand flattening against John's chest to push him away, then curling helplessly in the sweater when John hooked an arm around the back of his neck and deepened the kiss.
“This is the truth,” John whispered in his ear, “this, just this. Rodney, please, I want to come back, I want you, this life. With you - believe me, Rodney, believe -”
Rodney thought, this doesn't happen in real life, and he thought this is crazy and don't be stupid, and then he buried his face in John's neck and told himself to shut the hell up. “Yes,” he whispered back, fingers stealing under heavy wool to touch the warm, living skin of his destiny. “Okay, I - yes. Yes.”
Epilogue
Two Weeks Later
“What do you call that one?” Rodney asked, pointing to a crescent-shaped cluster of stars near the southern horizon.
John leaned in and lined his gaze up with Rodney's. “Hm. That would be Medusa's Left Ass Cheek.”
Rodney snorted. “Ha ha.”
“Well, that's what I used to call it. What can I say? I'd just hit puberty and everything I saw resembled an erogenous zone.” He shook his head. “Anyway, my people forgot the Ancient names for the constellations thousands of years ago. After a while, they just stopped looking up.”
Rodney turned his head to look at John. He'd returned from his visit over a week ago, but they hadn't talked about it. Things had been stressful enough, what with Elizabeth coming close to grounding both him and Carson and Sumner pushing to have John placed in solitary confinement and fed on bread and water for the rest of his life. When John came back, he'd defused the whole situation by bringing along his brother, who was apparently the new leader of his people. He'd answered all of their questions, told them very kindly and politely to fuck off and leave them alone, and then had put his arms around John and held him very tightly while John stared off across the water, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Rodney cleared his throat. “I'm sorry about your dad,” he murmured.
John remained silent for a few moments. “It's okay,” he said finally. “We got to - to talk.” He took a deep breath, let it out. “He was at peace with this world when he left it.”
“That's - good,” Rodney said. “I'm glad.”
“Yeah,” John agreed. He wiped a hand across his eyes, and Rodney lifted his gaze to the stars again for a moment.
“So do you think you'd like to get up there again?” Rodney asked, completely nonchalant.
John frowned. “Up where?” He pointed skyward, and Rodney nodded. John's face fell. “You know I would. But it's not up to me.”
Rodney bit his tongue to keep from grinning. John had been on his best behavior for Elizabeth and Sumner since he'd come back. He'd worked with Penfield's team, telling them everything he knew about the flagisallus and summoning one for them to study and attempt to communicate with. When he hadn't been doing that, he'd been teaching the linguists his language and turning on every last piece of the city that people asked him to turn on. The marine biologists and linguists adored him, the physicists and engineers worshiped him, and last Thursday he'd made everyone's year by discovering some rich Ancient's secret stash of really good porn. An important cultural find, the sociologists said, while everyone else took the rest of the afternoon off and retired to their bunks.
But through all of this, Rodney knew that John had been yearning for only one thing: to be back behind the controls of a puddlejumper someday, sooner rather than later. The problem was, Sumner had been dead set against it, and Elizabeth had been inclined to follow his lead for a change.
That was, until Rodney pointed out that at the rate the ham-fisted Milky Way galaxy types were going, they'd never learn how to fly the damn things.
“Rodney?”
“Hm?”
John propped himself up on an elbow. “You know something, don't you?”
This time the grin slipped free. “Now, why would you say that?”
“Rodney,” John warned, sliding an arm up Rodney's chest, “what's going on? What?” He pinched Rodney's nipple through his shirt, and Rodney yelped in surprise.
“Can I just point out, the threat of more nipple-pinching may be an ineffective strategy for you achieving what you want here,” he said.
“Rodney,” John growled, and the low sound went right to Rodney's cock.
“All right, all right, tomorrow Elizabeth is putting you in charge of the jumper training! Are you happy now? Because she bet me I wouldn't be able to wait until she told you in the morning, and now I'm out an entire Caramilk bar, and do you have any idea how scarce those are getting? No you don't, Mr. Man from Atlan -”
John rolled him over onto his back then and kissed him soundly, and Rodney wrapped both arms around him and held on as tightly as he could. “Yeah,” John breathed, when they finally parted, “I'm happy now.”
Rodney smiled, and John kissed the edges of it, each peck a star in a new constellation. This was so worth a lousy Caramilk bar.
End
Final Feetnotes
Latin terms: pastoris and opilio - shepherd; muraena - eel.
Music credit: John sings the opening lines of "Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash.