SGA fic: Gaijin, part 7/40
Dec. 11th, 2008 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sam_gamgeeGaijin, Part 7/40
The complete header can be found in part 1.
Previous parts can be found here.
John sighed as they stepped through the ‘Gate and into Atlantis. Another planet willing to trade but who hadn’t seen or heard anything about Rodney. If there was anyway he could take back the past eighteen months and have Rodney with them again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He silently followed the rest of his team to the locker room to change and stow their gear before their debriefing.
“One more thing,” Elizabeth said before she released them from the debriefing. “I’ve told this to Major Lorne and his team as well. I don’t want you showing Rodney’s picture around anymore.”
John’s head snapped up from looking at the plane he had been doodling. “What? Why not?”
Elizabeth sighed. “It’s been a year and a half, John. Don’t you think it’s time we accepted the fact that he’s gone and move on?”
“He’s not dead,” John replied sullenly.
“If he was alive, don’t you think he’d have come back by now?” Elizabeth countered. “We *are* talking about Rodney,” she continued when he opened his mouth again.
John shut his mouth and looked away for a long moment before catching her gaze again and saying shortly, “Fine. Are we dismissed?”
“You are,” she said and Ronon and Teyla stood. “But I want you to find a replacement for your team.”
“We don’t need a replacement,” John countered.
“John,” Elizabeth replied firmly, “practically all of your missions have needed a scientist, therefore you need another member on your team – a scientist.”
“Okay,” John sat back and crossed his arms. “Zelenka.”
“No,” Elizabeth replied firmly.
“Why not?” John shot back.
“We will be glad to assist in picking out a new teammate,” Teyla said diplomatically after shooting John a withering look. “Since Ronon and I will have to work with him or her as well.”
“Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem,” Ronon added.
“Okay.” Elizabeth sighed. “I expect to have a list of at least five prospective people on my desk as soon as possible.”
John gave her a mutinous look but said nothing as he stood and followed his teammates out of the conference room.
“Your behavior is bordering on madness, John,” Teyla hissed once they got into the hallway.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Because I can’t believe that Rodney’s dead or willfully isn’t coming back?”
“Because you won’t,” she bit out. “I was fond of Rodney as well, but I know, as you should too by now, that his chances are quite slim by himself.”
“What do you think, big guy?” John asked Ronon.
Ronon shrugged noncommittally before saying, “I don’t know. I doubt he could’ve survived long on his own there, but I’ve seen scrappier Runners survive on less.”
“But Rodney’s not a Runner.”
Ronon smiled slightly. “But he is Rodney.”
“John,” Teyla said, lightly touching him on the arm, “if Rodney truly is out there and alive and well, one of these days we *will* find him. I believe an appropriate saying that your people use is ‘a watched pot never boils’. We will find him when and where we least expect him to. Until then, it will do us no harm in complying with Elizabeth’s requests.”
John looked between the two of them for a long moment before nodding curtly. “Okay. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said between clenched teeth, “I’m going for a run. *Alone*.” The last bit he said to Ronon.
John went back to his room and changed on autopilot before setting off at a fast run the moment he stepped out of his room. The city went by in a blur as he pushed himself past the point of thinking. When he did finally stop, he was at the North Pier and panting heavily. He leaned against the rail for a few minutes, allowing himself to catch his breath and get his heart-rate somewhere close to normal.
Forcefully hitting the railing with the palm of his hand, John growled and pushed himself away from the railing.
John knew for a fact that Rodney was *not* dead and there was a logical explanation why he hadn’t either come home or at least gotten word to them that he was okay. There *had* to be. Rodney had never been the best at social interactions, and had a tendency to get lost in his work, but he had started becoming better at letting others know if he wasn’t going to make something. And John knew that Rodney would do all he could to get home if he was stuck on another planet. He couldn’t believe that Rodney would allow himself to be stuck somewhere and not come home.
John took a swig from his water bottle and started running again, this time slower and more rhythmically, the sound of his feet pounding into the floor calming him.
His belief that Rodney was still alive – somewhere – had kept him going and kept him together these past eighteen months. Ever since taking command of Atlantis, and even before, John had taken the loss of his men personally. He had always been a firm believer in the idea of ‘leave no man behind’ and the knowledge that he had left Rodney behind and the gut feeling that he was still out there and alive was a burden that kept John going day after day.
Because if he lost Rodney…. John clamped down on the grief that had been growing inside of him throughout the day. He didn’t want to give in to the demon telling him that he was jinxed and it was his fault they had lost not only Rodney and Ford, but everyone else as well. That maybe he really was a magnetic force – pulling bad things to people around him, just like Nancy had insinuated when she left.
His run took him past the infirmary and he decided to duck in and check on Carson. Ever since the explosion a little over a year ago it took a lot less to tire Carson and he still believed he could put in the same long days without any repercussions. John had seen firsthand the truth behind the statement ‘doctors make the worst patients’.
Seeing Dr. Biro as he entered, John breathlessly asked, “Is Carson in?”
Alarmed at his appearance, she asked, “Is everything all right, Col Sheppard?”
“Fine,” he replied tightly. “Carson. Is he in?”
She nodded and pointed towards Carson’s office. “He’s in his office.”
“Thanks,” he replied, giving her a tight smile and heading to Carson’s office. Leaning against the doorframe, John said, “How’re you doing, Doc?”
Carson’s head shot up and he gasped. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, John. I didn’t hear you come in.” Looking him over critically, Carson asked, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, fine,” John replied, still breathing somewhat heavily. “Just got done a long run.”
“And a punishing one at that, from the sound of it.”
John took a few deep breaths as he nodded – guilty as charged. “Needed to clear my head. How’re you doing?” he repeated.
“I hope it worked. And I’m doing all right, so you can quit worrying. I’ve had an easy day today of updating patient charts and going over my notes on the Wraith retrovirus and the ATA gene therapy.”
“Good,” John replied, nodding again.
Gingerly standing, Carson took a moment to steady himself before walking around his desk and leaning back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Been sitting too long, Doc?” John asked, wincing.
“Aye,” Carson admitted. “Knee’s a bit stiff. So, why are you really here, John?”
John shrugged somewhat helplessly. “I was passing by and wanted to see how you were doing and if you wanted to go get something to eat.”
“Not in that state you’re not,” Carson gently chided, gesturing to John’s sweaty clothing. “And as I’ve often told you, I’m not Rodney – I actually have enough common sense to not need reminding to eat.” At John’s stricken look, Carson said, “Och, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. Why don’t you get cleaned up and come back when you’re done? I should be finished by then. And,” he looked at his watch, “by then it’ll be properly dinnertime.”
“Okay,” John replied quietly, visibly pulling himself together and nodding slowly, but he didn’t move. “That sounds good, Doc.”
“Now, off with you before I have the staff chase you out,” Carson said dismissively as he stood and went back behind his desk, sitting heavily in his chair.
John gave Carson one last glance before leaving and jogging back to his quarters. He stretched his tired muscles before stripping and jumping into a hot shower, letting the hot water and pulsing stream take care of the rest of his aching muscles. Once he was done, he made quick work of toweling himself dry and putting a clean pair of clothes and his boots. He put his radio in his ear and hesitated for a second before strapping on his sidearm.
He headed back to the infirmary and arrived as Carson finished neatly stacking his folders and papers and stood. John inwardly winced as Carson stood and hesitated for a moment before grabbing his cane from where it rested cradled in the corner made by his desk and a filing cabinet.
“Ready?” he asked as Carson turned and headed towards him.
“Aye,” Carson replied as he stepped through the office door before John, idly flexing his left hand.
“Is your hand giving you trouble again too?” John asked quietly as he followed him, not wanting to alert any of the other staff.
“A little,” Carson admitted. “I think it’s because of the rain,” he added with a sly smile.
John let out a small chuckle at the thought. “We live on a damn ocean, Doc.”
“So we do,” Carson added, a smile crinkling his eyes and the corners of his mouth.
John let the subject drop and followed Carson to the mess hall. He filled a tray with food for both of them and led Carson to a table. Carson sank down into the chair with a small sigh of relief as John divvied up the food.
“Why don’t you do more physical therapy?” John asked, sitting down.
“Because it won’t help any,” Carson sighed, opening his water bottle with some slight difficulty. “Both Dr. Biro and I agree that my knee is as good as it’s going to get and that I should be thankful I have use of it at all. And I know what I can and can’t and should and shouldn’t do to it – even if I don’t listen. Things still need to be done.”
“Just take it easy, okay? I… I worry about you.”
“I know you do, John. And I appreciate it. But it’s been over a year and a quarter since the explosion.”
“I know,” John replied evenly, his food now forgotten.
“Which means that I’m okay,” Carson replied, holding John’s gaze.
“I know, damn it,” John replied just as levelly, before replying in a whisper, “But I can’t lose you too.”
“You’re not going to,” Carson told him. “And you have to let go of what happened with Rodney.”
“I *can’t*,” John replied, a note of anguish coloring his voice. Ever since “the tumor incident”, Carson had been the only one who seemed to be able to get through to John.
“Can’t or won’t?” Carson pushed, his own meal now forgotten. “Have you talked to Kate at all?”
“No,” John said shortly. “Talking to her isn’t going to bring him back.”
“And neither is hovering over me.” Carson sighed as he wiped a hand over his face. “I understand what you’re doing, John. But you need to move on. Rodney isn’t coming back.”
“I can’t accept that,” John said as he brusquely stood. “So help me, Carson, I can’t accept that.”
Carson watched as his broken friend practically fled the mess hall, the anguish in John’s voice ringing in his ears. He sighed and turned back to his meal.
As John fled, he knew he was becoming seriously unglued. The problem was he didn’t know how to stop it.
Rodney, with all of his bluster, had managed to push his way past all of John’s defenses in ways that no one else had been able to, even Nancy. And John had to give her a lot of credit for trying. But Rodney was completely different category. His arrogance and ego had annoyed the hell out of John at first, but after a while other sides of Rodney came to the fore. They tempered Rodney’s more caustic characteristics and wormed Rodney under John’s skin until he thought of Rodney as a part of himself.
And that had scared him to death at first. John had been alone for so long that the idea of actually needing someone on a basic level had terrified him. When he realized that he also thought of Rodney in a romantic sense, he had come very close to a meltdown. Being gay had never figured into his plans and he had figured that he was too old to have a sexual identity crisis. He had been wrong on both counts.
He had tried to discreetly and ambiguously ask Kate about it, but she had seen through him right away and had given him a very frank lecture on the subject. When she had finished, John had felt a little dizzy from all the information she had given him, but at the same time much calmer about what was going on inside of himself.
Then the situation with the Minotaur had taken place. That was the turning point in which John knew for certain that he needed not just Dr. Rodney McKay, Ph.D., in his life, but also the man behind the ego, in his life. But it wasn’t until Rodney had dragged the truth out of him, that John had been able to admit his feelings for the other man.
And then they only had a very short amount of time together before they lost Rodney on MPX-993. The double blow of leaving a man behind and leaving *Rodney* behind had hit John like 20 Gs.
They had searched around the ‘Gate for miles with no luck. The only difference in the landscape was the ‘Gate; it had a weird, three-sided abutment to it that must’ve been of some use to someone at some point, but obviously had no use now. And that was on the good days. The rest of the time, they were met with sandstorms so violent they had zero visibility and John had a good idea of how a sandblaster worked.
After a while, Elizabeth had scaled back their attempts to find Rodney – stating firmly that since he wasn’t on the planet, he surely must have found some way off it. All the Stargate teams would be allowed to ask when they went off-world and to show Rodney’s picture around – but that was it. And after some time with no results, the teams had started giving up of their own accord. Only John’s and Lorne’s teams continued the search. And starting with their next mission, they were officially finished with that small task as well.
Punching a wall, John relished the pain. It gave him something to focus on – even if for a few brief seconds – other than the pain that was roiling inside of him. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t still be feeling this way for something that had happened so briefly over a year and a half ago, but as many times as he tried telling that to his heart, it didn’t seem to get the message.
When he finally went back to his quarters out of pure exhaustion, he fell asleep to dreams of ghostly touches and whispered love.
The next morning at breakfast, Teyla calmly stated, “Elizabeth has informed me that we are on stand-down until we find someone to join our team.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John replied hotly as Ronon simply shrugged and continued eating his oatmeal.
“The most I could get her to agree to was to allow us to take some candidates off-world with us to see how they fared, but she told me it would only be after she approved our list of candidates.”
“Makes sense,” Ronon said between bites. At John’s black look, he added with a half-shrug, “She’s holding over our heads the one thing we all want and like doing. It’s a good tactic.”
“Fine,” John said tightly, his hands gripping his silverware so his knuckles were white. “How do you two propose we do this?”
“I believe we should start by asking Dr. Zelenka who he believes would make good candidates,” Teyla stated. “And then we can assess each of them and find the person who would best fit our team.”
“But they have to know how to fight,” Ronon said. “I’m not training anyone again, and neither of you should have to either.”
“So, only original expedition members?” John asked with a slight quirk of an eyebrow, his hands relaxing slightly.
Ronon shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “However you want to decide is fine with me. I just want them to have at least some basic hand-to-hand and weapons training.”
“Define weapons.”
Ronon laughed and nodded before saying, “You know what I mean.”
“We can do this, John,” Teyla said, lightly touching his arm. “You know Rodney would want us to have someone else on the team with all of the technology that we encounter. How did he put it?” She paused to remember.
“Because without him, we’d stomp into a trap like a herd of elephants and have no idea of what hit us,” John supplied. “Though, I think he was talking about me and Ronon more than you.” He smiled slightly and the tension in his body eased minutely.
Finishing her juice, Teyla said, “I will speak with Dr. Zelenka this morning. Hopefully, he will be able to give me a list this afternoon and we will be able to begin immediately.”
“Okay,” John replied and Ronon nodded.
Teyla gently squeezed John’s arm before withdrawing her hand. “It will be okay, John. Rodney will be returned to us when he’s meant to be returned.”
“You really think that?” John asked, disbelievingly. She nodded as he asked, “Have your people ever disappeared and then returned?”
“Sometimes. We believe that in those instances, they were meant to take a journey to reveal something to themselves. I believe Dr. Archer called it a ‘vision quest’ when we spoke of it.” Lorne casually approached them and Teyla stood. “I will speak with you both later. Hopefully we will be able to resolve this quickly.”
John nodded as he and Ronon also stood. “What can I do for you, Major?” he asked, acknowledging Lorne.
“Just need you to sign off on some requisition forms and such, sir,” Lore replied nonchalantly, tapping the datapad resting in the cradle of his opposite arm as they headed to John’s office. “The Daedalus is due to arrive soon and the city won’t run herself.”
John said nothing, but inwardly agreed, wishing he didn’t have to deal with this part of his job. He hated the bureaucracy of it, even if he knew it was a necessary evil. He was, first and foremost, a pilot and wished he could leave it at that.
Lorne seated himself in one of the chairs across from John’s desk as John sat and opened the file on the datapad. John worked quietly, glancing over the paperwork that outlined what he and Lorne had already discussed and agreed upon before signing each of the necessary documents.
When he was finished, he saved the files on the datapad, replaced the stylus, and slid it across his desk to Lorne before folding his hands on top of his desk. “Anything else I can help you with, Major?” he asked.
“I miss Dr. McKay too, sir,” Lorne replied. “For all his abrasiveness, he was amazing at what he did and it looked like he was doing you some good too, not just this city.”
“Thank you, Major,” John choked out. “Dismissed.”
Lorne picked up the datapad and nodded, dispensing with the normal salute and left. John gripped his hands together for a long moment before forcing himself to let go.
He turned his attention to the upcoming two weeks’ duty rosters and training schedules. While he was at it, he also approved all of the mission requests that Elizabeth had sent him with only a cursory glance to see where they were going and for what. The detail she went into to explain where they were going and why had once amused him and he and Rodney would make a game of seeing how colorful she got in describing “I’d like to send a team back to another sand/ice/water planet because we picked up a weird energy reading the first time we were there.” Now he just didn’t care – the details reminded him too much of Rodney.
At some point in the middle of it, John’s radio clicked. Touching it, he replied, “Go ahead.”
“Have you had lunch yet, Colonel?” Carson’s accented voice asked over the link.
“Not yet,” John replied, his stomach growling at the mention of food. Looking at his watch, he realized that it was now the middle of the afternoon.
“Would you like to grab a bite with me?”
“Sure.” He saved what he was doing on his computer. “Meet me in the mess in five minutes?”
“No problem,” Carson replied lightly. “I’m leaving now.”
John nodded to himself. “So am I.”
Neither man talked as they ate and John was glad for that. The past twenty-seven hours had been hard enough and he was glad to have someone with whom he didn’t have to pretend or justify himself.
“I heard Elizabeth wants you to add another member to your team,” Carson said as John walked him back to the infirmary.
“Yeah,” John replied. “Teyla’s taken charge of talking to Zelenka about possible candidates.”
Carson nodded. “He would know the best people for your team.” When they reached the door to Carson’s lab, Carson said, “I miss him too, John. There are days when I still expect him to pop up have it be nothing more than a bad dream.” He sighed. “But I’m starting to think that maybe Elizabeth is right – that it’s time we move forward. You know Rodney wouldn’t want you moping around like this.”
“I know,” John admitted quietly, staring at the floor. “But with him gone, it feels like I’m missing something essential.”
Carson smiled fondly. “I know what you mean. Rodney’s got all the grace of a bull in a china shop and yet he somehow creeps inside of you and makes you like him.” At John’s startled look, Carson admitted, “Oh, aye, I agree with you that I really doubt he’s dead. But, for whatever reason, it’s not his time to come home yet.”
“How do you –?” John started, but the question died on his lips.
Carson chuckled as he clapped John on the shoulder. “Let’s just say it’s a wee bit of the Highland magic and leave it at that.” He moved past John and went into his lab. “Now, off with you. I’m sure Teyla’s looking for you.”
John nodded, still looking a little dazed before seeming to shake himself out of it and taking his leave with an “I’ll see you later, Carson.”
Carson watched him go with a shake of his head. He was fond of the other man and he hated seeing how he was beating himself up over what had happened to Rodney.
Leaving the infirmary, John tapped his radio. “Teyla, come in.”
“Yes, John?” her voice asked over the link.
“Was Zelenka able to give you a list of names?” he asked, a knot twisting in his stomach.
“He was,” she replied simply. “I was just about to call Ronon and you to see if you both would like to join me in the mess hall to begin going over the list.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” he replied. “What’s your e.t.a.?”
“About five minutes. I’m in my quarters.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there. I’m coming from the infirmary.”
“Duly noted. I will see you in five minutes.”
John picked up an apple and a water bottle when he entered the mess hall and headed over to where Teyla and Ronon were sitting. “So…” he said, sitting down. “Who do we have?”
“It’s a relatively short list,” Teyla stated, turning the datapad for John to see. “Dr. Zelenka gave me ten names, saying that they were the only ones who would be even remotely close to filling Rodney’s shoes.”
“In terms of smarts, experience, field of expertise, what?” John asked, hunching over and perusing the names on the list and tapping on one name to bring up her file.
“Dr. Zelenka said it was in terms of both intelligence and their experiences here in Atlantis. They all also have the ATA gene and a practical knowledge of Ancient technology, how it works and how to fix it.”
“Zelenka told you to say that, didn’t he?” John asked.
“He did,” Teyla replied with a smile and a slight bow of her head.
“I guess we should talk to all of them, then,” John said, sitting back in his chair and interlacing his fingers behind his head. “What do you think, Ronon?”
“I think we should also test their fighting skills,” he commented. “I’ll take care of that.”
“You can do the hand-to-hand,” John commandeered. “I’ll take care of the marksmanship test.”
“Fine,” Ronon replied gruffly.
“I think we should all sit in on the interviews,” Teyla added. “They will be on our team, so I think that we should make the decision as a team.”
John could tell that Teyla was forcing him into that corner to make sure he actually talked to all of them and simply didn’t dismiss them out of hand. “All right,” he said shortly. “Teyla, get in touch with Albertson and see how soon she can meet with us.”
“I have already taken the liberty of setting up interviews with each of them,” Teyla replied. “They all seemed quite excited at the prospect of joining the team.”
“Thank you, Miss Moneypenny,” John replied with a sigh as he hid his face in his hands.
“I do not see what the secretary from that Bond film you made us watch has to do with this,” Teyla replied with a hint of disdain.
“I think it was supposed to be a compliment,” Ronon replied with a grin.
“Don’t mind me,” John said as he crossed his arms on the table and put his head on top of them. “I’m just slowly going mad. This is not happening.”
“You must pull yourself together, John,” Teyla said. “Sometimes these things are meant to test those left behind as well.” She sighed. “I must be going. I promised Dr. Archer I would discuss some more of my people’s mythology with her. Our first meeting is right after dinner in the conference room below Elizabeth’s office.”
John groaned. “The universe really is out to get me,” he groaned into his arms as Teyla left. Sitting up and sighing, he looked at Ronon for a long moment, who patiently stared back, arms crossed over his chest. “So what’s your take on all of this?” John finally asked, propping his head up on a hand and looking at Ronon out of the corner of his eye.
Ronon shrugged. “I think it’s good that you’re mourning Rodney, but I think you’re going about it the wrong way. On Sateda, we honor our fallen comrades with our words and our deeds.”
“He wasn’t killed in battle,” John ground out. “He was lost in a fucking sandstorm.”
“What’s your mission, Sheppard?”
“What’s my –?” John’s eyes narrowed. “We’re here to meet with other cultures and gain knowledge and access to technologies and information that would help us fight against enemies that would threaten Earth.”
“And?”
“And by that logic, Rodney went MIA in the line of duty.”
“Think about that,” Ronon said as he stood and clapped John on the shoulder.
John groaned and put his head back down on his arms as Ronon walked away. He hated his friends and their logic. He just wanted Rodney back safe and sound.
“Okay, so time for number eight,” John said, sitting down next to Teyla.
“Number ten,” Teyla reminded him.
“But I thought Curtis was number seven,” John said, confused.
“Nine,” Ronon agreed.
“And we’ve been at it for how long?” John sighed, wiping his eyes.
“Five days,” Ronon answered.
“Okay, last one. Let’s get this over with. Who’s next?”
“Johan Darby,” Teyla replied.
“What kind of name is that?”
Both Teyla and Ronon shrugged as Darby came in and sat across from the three of them. “My father’s English and my mother was Swiss,” he replied easily.
“Welcome, Johan,” Teyla replied easily and gave him a warm smile. “Dr. Zelenka has spoken quite highly of you.”
“Thank you,” he replied with a grin. “Both he and Dr. McKay have been amazing to work with.”
John glared at him, but Darby didn’t flinch under his gaze and actually seemed to be completely sincere unlike at least half of the previous interviewees. “What exactly do you do, Darby?” he asked calmly.
“I have a dual degree in biogeochemistry and engineering,” Darby replied. “I’ve been heading a team that’s been studying the Wraith technology that’s been brought in.”
“It says here that you are an original member of the expedition,” Teyla commented, glancing down at the datapad in front of her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Darby replied. “When I heard the SGC was looking for scientists to come, I volunteered.”
“For a one-way trip to another galaxy?” John interrupted.
“Honestly, Col. Sheppard,” Darby grinned, “there aren’t many options for a science geek in Podunk, Mississippi, and as cool as it was working at Area 51 on some of the Goa’uld technology, it’s not every day that you actually get to go to another galaxy and see alien technology being used as it was intended and by the people who created it.”
John couldn’t help but smile inside at Darby’s enthusiasm. It reminded him a lot of Rodney when they first arrived in Atlantis. And the fact that he still seemed to feel that way probably meant he had a lot of flexibility and resiliency – both great things if he was going to be on a ‘Gate team. John let the rest of Teyla’s questions and Darby’s answers wash over him as he half-listened.
Ronon’s only question was if Darby knew how to fight.
“Of course,” he replied. “I have three older brothers and two younger sisters. Between my brothers’ roughhousing and protecting my sisters, I quickly learned how to handle myself in a fight. And I also know how to handle a gun. Where I grew up, you knew your way around a gun by the time you were five, whether you wanted to or not.”
“Go ahead, Sheppard,” Ronon told him.
“Okay.” John leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and interlacing his fingers. “What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“African or European?” Darby asked with a straight face. “Because I could give you either answer.”
“Seriously?” John asked in surprise and Darby nodded. “That won’t be necessary,” he replied, forcing himself to become serious again. “Who’s your favorite superhero?”
“Storm from the X-Men.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice. Most guys wouldn’t admit to that.”
Darby shrugged. “I think it’s interesting how she can control the weather. Plus, most of the stand-alones are overrated. Though, I do think Batman should get credit for not actually having any superpowers and for allowing revenge to be the basis for his whole mission. Not many people want to admit that society as a whole is idolizing him for that.”
John nodded. “So, when can we schedule you for a hand-to-hand test with Ronon and some time in the shooting range with me?”
Darby shrugged again. “My schedule’s pretty flexible right now, so whenever is convenient for you and Ronon.”
“How about this afternoon?” John looked at his watch. “Let’s say we meet in the gym in half an hour. That work for you, Ronon?” he asked, looking over at his teammate.
“Fine,” Ronon replied.
“Okay,” John said, looking back at Darby. “We’ll see you in the gym in half an hour.”
“Thank you for allowing us to interview you,” Teyla said as Darby stood.
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he replied. “Thank you all for interviewing me.”
After he left, Teyla confessed, “I think he is the first one whom I do not mind calling me ‘ma’am’. There is a certain sincerity in him that I find refreshing.”
“I like him,” Ronon commented.
“I do too,” John added. “If the fighting and marksmanship go well, I think we should keep him.”
“We should still at least consider the others we’ve interviewed,” Teyla gently chided. “Just in case one of them is a better fit than Dr. Darby. Besides, I’ve been informed by Elizabeth that it’s good manners to do so, especially since we’ve already taken the time to do the interviews.”
“Fine,” John huffed. “We’ll consider everyone.” He hated that Elizabeth was forcing them to do this. He hated that everyone else was so ready and willing to move on and he couldn’t. Quickly pushing his chair back and standing, he said, “I’ll see you later, Teyla, unless you decide to sit in on the fight and the marksmanship test. I’ll see you in half an hour, Ronon.”
John considered going for a run, but nixed the idea, knowing that if he started now with the mood he was in, he wouldn’t be done in time. He thought of seeing if anyone was in the gym and up to some friendly sparring, but knew that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to put up a good fight. John sighed. He wanted Rodney to be here so badly. He needed Rodney to be sarcastic with, to argue with, to just be with.
Teyla caught up with John. “Are you all right, John?” she asked. “You’ve seemed rather depressed lately.” She paused for a moment. “Or, at least, more so than what’s become normal for you.”
“I’ll be fine, Teyla,” he replied in his most optimistic tone. “I’m just ready for the interviews to be over.”
“They will be soon, John,” she replied. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk with Kate about this?”
“I’m sure. Look, I need to get ready for Darby’s other tests. I’ll see you later.”
John jogged down to the shooting range and set up the items they’d need for his portion of the tests. When he got to the gym, Ronon and Darby were already there, warming up. Well, Darby was warming up and Ronon was waiting.
“Hey,” John said, leaning back against the wall next to Ronon.
“Hey,” Ronon replied. “Tell me again why your people like doing this before a practice fight.” He pointed with his chin to Darby, who was straightening up from stretching.
John shrugged. “They think it’ll help things not hurt so much when they’re done.”
“I’m ready,” Darby said. “Hi, Col. Sheppard.”
“Darby,” John acknowledged. “Don’t let me hold you up,” he said to Ronon.
John watched as Ronon pushed himself off the wall and stalked onto the mat. Darby watched him carefully, his posture relaxed but still holding a small amount of tension in order to be ready. John gave him credit for that. Eight of the other candidates had had no idea what to do and two had actually squeaked when Ronon had gotten within range.
Ronon threw the first punch and Darby blocked it while countering with a punch of his own. John watched critically as they fought and noted that Darby was definitely the best they’d seen. He did have a few gaps in his knowledge and Ronon was taking it easy on him, but John could tell they wouldn’t have to worry about Darby in the field.
When Ronon called it quits after a few minutes, he and John met by the door while Darby took a drink of water.
“Well?” Ronon asked quietly.
“I think he looks good,” John replied. “A little rough around the edges, but….” He shrugged. “What do you think?”
“Needs some more training, but I think he’s good.”
John nodded and said louder, “Come on, Darby. It’s time for target practice.”
Darby nodded and took another swig from his water bottle. “Lead on.”
The three men went down to the shooting range, where two paper targets had been set up and a P90 and a Beretta were laying on a table a few yards away. Ronon leaned against a back wall as both John and Darby put on earmuffs and glasses. John picked up the P90 and double-checked the magazine and took off the safety.
Handing it to Darby, he said, “This is called a P90 and it’s our standard personal defense weapon – or PDW – for our off-world teams.”
“I’m aware of what it is, Col. Sheppard,” Darby replied, amused. “It helps knowing what your own weapons are when dealing with alien technology. Which target do you want me to shoot?”
John shrugged. “You pick.”
Darby hefted the gun so its recoil would be absorbed by his body before squeezing off a short burst of bullets. John checked the target after Darby had finished and found the holes neatly centered on the target’s torso.
“Not bad,” John said, taking the P90 and handing Darby the Beretta.
Darby took off the safety and checked the clip himself before stabilizing his right hand with his left and squeezed off a few shots at the other target. As he set the gun down, John checked the target and found holes in the major fatality spots.
“I’m impressed,” he told Darby as they took off their protective gear.
“Thank you, Col. Sheppard,” Darby replied, blushing slightly.
“Give us some time to discuss things and we’ll get back to you.”
Darby nodded. “Thanks again,” he said before leaving.
“How did it go?” Teyla asked.
“I think he’s a keeper,” John said. “He looks like he’s a good fighter and he knows not only how to fire a gun, but where to hit.”
“Yeah, he’s good,” Ronon agreed.
“I believe so as well,” Teyla said. “I will tell Elizabeth we’ve made our decision and John, you can tell Darby.”
Continue to Part 8
The complete header can be found in part 1.
Previous parts can be found here.
John sighed as they stepped through the ‘Gate and into Atlantis. Another planet willing to trade but who hadn’t seen or heard anything about Rodney. If there was anyway he could take back the past eighteen months and have Rodney with them again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He silently followed the rest of his team to the locker room to change and stow their gear before their debriefing.
“One more thing,” Elizabeth said before she released them from the debriefing. “I’ve told this to Major Lorne and his team as well. I don’t want you showing Rodney’s picture around anymore.”
John’s head snapped up from looking at the plane he had been doodling. “What? Why not?”
Elizabeth sighed. “It’s been a year and a half, John. Don’t you think it’s time we accepted the fact that he’s gone and move on?”
“He’s not dead,” John replied sullenly.
“If he was alive, don’t you think he’d have come back by now?” Elizabeth countered. “We *are* talking about Rodney,” she continued when he opened his mouth again.
John shut his mouth and looked away for a long moment before catching her gaze again and saying shortly, “Fine. Are we dismissed?”
“You are,” she said and Ronon and Teyla stood. “But I want you to find a replacement for your team.”
“We don’t need a replacement,” John countered.
“John,” Elizabeth replied firmly, “practically all of your missions have needed a scientist, therefore you need another member on your team – a scientist.”
“Okay,” John sat back and crossed his arms. “Zelenka.”
“No,” Elizabeth replied firmly.
“Why not?” John shot back.
“We will be glad to assist in picking out a new teammate,” Teyla said diplomatically after shooting John a withering look. “Since Ronon and I will have to work with him or her as well.”
“Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem,” Ronon added.
“Okay.” Elizabeth sighed. “I expect to have a list of at least five prospective people on my desk as soon as possible.”
John gave her a mutinous look but said nothing as he stood and followed his teammates out of the conference room.
“Your behavior is bordering on madness, John,” Teyla hissed once they got into the hallway.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “Because I can’t believe that Rodney’s dead or willfully isn’t coming back?”
“Because you won’t,” she bit out. “I was fond of Rodney as well, but I know, as you should too by now, that his chances are quite slim by himself.”
“What do you think, big guy?” John asked Ronon.
Ronon shrugged noncommittally before saying, “I don’t know. I doubt he could’ve survived long on his own there, but I’ve seen scrappier Runners survive on less.”
“But Rodney’s not a Runner.”
Ronon smiled slightly. “But he is Rodney.”
“John,” Teyla said, lightly touching him on the arm, “if Rodney truly is out there and alive and well, one of these days we *will* find him. I believe an appropriate saying that your people use is ‘a watched pot never boils’. We will find him when and where we least expect him to. Until then, it will do us no harm in complying with Elizabeth’s requests.”
John looked between the two of them for a long moment before nodding curtly. “Okay. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said between clenched teeth, “I’m going for a run. *Alone*.” The last bit he said to Ronon.
John went back to his room and changed on autopilot before setting off at a fast run the moment he stepped out of his room. The city went by in a blur as he pushed himself past the point of thinking. When he did finally stop, he was at the North Pier and panting heavily. He leaned against the rail for a few minutes, allowing himself to catch his breath and get his heart-rate somewhere close to normal.
Forcefully hitting the railing with the palm of his hand, John growled and pushed himself away from the railing.
John knew for a fact that Rodney was *not* dead and there was a logical explanation why he hadn’t either come home or at least gotten word to them that he was okay. There *had* to be. Rodney had never been the best at social interactions, and had a tendency to get lost in his work, but he had started becoming better at letting others know if he wasn’t going to make something. And John knew that Rodney would do all he could to get home if he was stuck on another planet. He couldn’t believe that Rodney would allow himself to be stuck somewhere and not come home.
John took a swig from his water bottle and started running again, this time slower and more rhythmically, the sound of his feet pounding into the floor calming him.
His belief that Rodney was still alive – somewhere – had kept him going and kept him together these past eighteen months. Ever since taking command of Atlantis, and even before, John had taken the loss of his men personally. He had always been a firm believer in the idea of ‘leave no man behind’ and the knowledge that he had left Rodney behind and the gut feeling that he was still out there and alive was a burden that kept John going day after day.
Because if he lost Rodney…. John clamped down on the grief that had been growing inside of him throughout the day. He didn’t want to give in to the demon telling him that he was jinxed and it was his fault they had lost not only Rodney and Ford, but everyone else as well. That maybe he really was a magnetic force – pulling bad things to people around him, just like Nancy had insinuated when she left.
His run took him past the infirmary and he decided to duck in and check on Carson. Ever since the explosion a little over a year ago it took a lot less to tire Carson and he still believed he could put in the same long days without any repercussions. John had seen firsthand the truth behind the statement ‘doctors make the worst patients’.
Seeing Dr. Biro as he entered, John breathlessly asked, “Is Carson in?”
Alarmed at his appearance, she asked, “Is everything all right, Col Sheppard?”
“Fine,” he replied tightly. “Carson. Is he in?”
She nodded and pointed towards Carson’s office. “He’s in his office.”
“Thanks,” he replied, giving her a tight smile and heading to Carson’s office. Leaning against the doorframe, John said, “How’re you doing, Doc?”
Carson’s head shot up and he gasped. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, John. I didn’t hear you come in.” Looking him over critically, Carson asked, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, fine,” John replied, still breathing somewhat heavily. “Just got done a long run.”
“And a punishing one at that, from the sound of it.”
John took a few deep breaths as he nodded – guilty as charged. “Needed to clear my head. How’re you doing?” he repeated.
“I hope it worked. And I’m doing all right, so you can quit worrying. I’ve had an easy day today of updating patient charts and going over my notes on the Wraith retrovirus and the ATA gene therapy.”
“Good,” John replied, nodding again.
Gingerly standing, Carson took a moment to steady himself before walking around his desk and leaning back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Been sitting too long, Doc?” John asked, wincing.
“Aye,” Carson admitted. “Knee’s a bit stiff. So, why are you really here, John?”
John shrugged somewhat helplessly. “I was passing by and wanted to see how you were doing and if you wanted to go get something to eat.”
“Not in that state you’re not,” Carson gently chided, gesturing to John’s sweaty clothing. “And as I’ve often told you, I’m not Rodney – I actually have enough common sense to not need reminding to eat.” At John’s stricken look, Carson said, “Och, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. Why don’t you get cleaned up and come back when you’re done? I should be finished by then. And,” he looked at his watch, “by then it’ll be properly dinnertime.”
“Okay,” John replied quietly, visibly pulling himself together and nodding slowly, but he didn’t move. “That sounds good, Doc.”
“Now, off with you before I have the staff chase you out,” Carson said dismissively as he stood and went back behind his desk, sitting heavily in his chair.
John gave Carson one last glance before leaving and jogging back to his quarters. He stretched his tired muscles before stripping and jumping into a hot shower, letting the hot water and pulsing stream take care of the rest of his aching muscles. Once he was done, he made quick work of toweling himself dry and putting a clean pair of clothes and his boots. He put his radio in his ear and hesitated for a second before strapping on his sidearm.
He headed back to the infirmary and arrived as Carson finished neatly stacking his folders and papers and stood. John inwardly winced as Carson stood and hesitated for a moment before grabbing his cane from where it rested cradled in the corner made by his desk and a filing cabinet.
“Ready?” he asked as Carson turned and headed towards him.
“Aye,” Carson replied as he stepped through the office door before John, idly flexing his left hand.
“Is your hand giving you trouble again too?” John asked quietly as he followed him, not wanting to alert any of the other staff.
“A little,” Carson admitted. “I think it’s because of the rain,” he added with a sly smile.
John let out a small chuckle at the thought. “We live on a damn ocean, Doc.”
“So we do,” Carson added, a smile crinkling his eyes and the corners of his mouth.
John let the subject drop and followed Carson to the mess hall. He filled a tray with food for both of them and led Carson to a table. Carson sank down into the chair with a small sigh of relief as John divvied up the food.
“Why don’t you do more physical therapy?” John asked, sitting down.
“Because it won’t help any,” Carson sighed, opening his water bottle with some slight difficulty. “Both Dr. Biro and I agree that my knee is as good as it’s going to get and that I should be thankful I have use of it at all. And I know what I can and can’t and should and shouldn’t do to it – even if I don’t listen. Things still need to be done.”
“Just take it easy, okay? I… I worry about you.”
“I know you do, John. And I appreciate it. But it’s been over a year and a quarter since the explosion.”
“I know,” John replied evenly, his food now forgotten.
“Which means that I’m okay,” Carson replied, holding John’s gaze.
“I know, damn it,” John replied just as levelly, before replying in a whisper, “But I can’t lose you too.”
“You’re not going to,” Carson told him. “And you have to let go of what happened with Rodney.”
“I *can’t*,” John replied, a note of anguish coloring his voice. Ever since “the tumor incident”, Carson had been the only one who seemed to be able to get through to John.
“Can’t or won’t?” Carson pushed, his own meal now forgotten. “Have you talked to Kate at all?”
“No,” John said shortly. “Talking to her isn’t going to bring him back.”
“And neither is hovering over me.” Carson sighed as he wiped a hand over his face. “I understand what you’re doing, John. But you need to move on. Rodney isn’t coming back.”
“I can’t accept that,” John said as he brusquely stood. “So help me, Carson, I can’t accept that.”
Carson watched as his broken friend practically fled the mess hall, the anguish in John’s voice ringing in his ears. He sighed and turned back to his meal.
As John fled, he knew he was becoming seriously unglued. The problem was he didn’t know how to stop it.
Rodney, with all of his bluster, had managed to push his way past all of John’s defenses in ways that no one else had been able to, even Nancy. And John had to give her a lot of credit for trying. But Rodney was completely different category. His arrogance and ego had annoyed the hell out of John at first, but after a while other sides of Rodney came to the fore. They tempered Rodney’s more caustic characteristics and wormed Rodney under John’s skin until he thought of Rodney as a part of himself.
And that had scared him to death at first. John had been alone for so long that the idea of actually needing someone on a basic level had terrified him. When he realized that he also thought of Rodney in a romantic sense, he had come very close to a meltdown. Being gay had never figured into his plans and he had figured that he was too old to have a sexual identity crisis. He had been wrong on both counts.
He had tried to discreetly and ambiguously ask Kate about it, but she had seen through him right away and had given him a very frank lecture on the subject. When she had finished, John had felt a little dizzy from all the information she had given him, but at the same time much calmer about what was going on inside of himself.
Then the situation with the Minotaur had taken place. That was the turning point in which John knew for certain that he needed not just Dr. Rodney McKay, Ph.D., in his life, but also the man behind the ego, in his life. But it wasn’t until Rodney had dragged the truth out of him, that John had been able to admit his feelings for the other man.
And then they only had a very short amount of time together before they lost Rodney on MPX-993. The double blow of leaving a man behind and leaving *Rodney* behind had hit John like 20 Gs.
They had searched around the ‘Gate for miles with no luck. The only difference in the landscape was the ‘Gate; it had a weird, three-sided abutment to it that must’ve been of some use to someone at some point, but obviously had no use now. And that was on the good days. The rest of the time, they were met with sandstorms so violent they had zero visibility and John had a good idea of how a sandblaster worked.
After a while, Elizabeth had scaled back their attempts to find Rodney – stating firmly that since he wasn’t on the planet, he surely must have found some way off it. All the Stargate teams would be allowed to ask when they went off-world and to show Rodney’s picture around – but that was it. And after some time with no results, the teams had started giving up of their own accord. Only John’s and Lorne’s teams continued the search. And starting with their next mission, they were officially finished with that small task as well.
Punching a wall, John relished the pain. It gave him something to focus on – even if for a few brief seconds – other than the pain that was roiling inside of him. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t still be feeling this way for something that had happened so briefly over a year and a half ago, but as many times as he tried telling that to his heart, it didn’t seem to get the message.
When he finally went back to his quarters out of pure exhaustion, he fell asleep to dreams of ghostly touches and whispered love.
The next morning at breakfast, Teyla calmly stated, “Elizabeth has informed me that we are on stand-down until we find someone to join our team.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” John replied hotly as Ronon simply shrugged and continued eating his oatmeal.
“The most I could get her to agree to was to allow us to take some candidates off-world with us to see how they fared, but she told me it would only be after she approved our list of candidates.”
“Makes sense,” Ronon said between bites. At John’s black look, he added with a half-shrug, “She’s holding over our heads the one thing we all want and like doing. It’s a good tactic.”
“Fine,” John said tightly, his hands gripping his silverware so his knuckles were white. “How do you two propose we do this?”
“I believe we should start by asking Dr. Zelenka who he believes would make good candidates,” Teyla stated. “And then we can assess each of them and find the person who would best fit our team.”
“But they have to know how to fight,” Ronon said. “I’m not training anyone again, and neither of you should have to either.”
“So, only original expedition members?” John asked with a slight quirk of an eyebrow, his hands relaxing slightly.
Ronon shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “However you want to decide is fine with me. I just want them to have at least some basic hand-to-hand and weapons training.”
“Define weapons.”
Ronon laughed and nodded before saying, “You know what I mean.”
“We can do this, John,” Teyla said, lightly touching his arm. “You know Rodney would want us to have someone else on the team with all of the technology that we encounter. How did he put it?” She paused to remember.
“Because without him, we’d stomp into a trap like a herd of elephants and have no idea of what hit us,” John supplied. “Though, I think he was talking about me and Ronon more than you.” He smiled slightly and the tension in his body eased minutely.
Finishing her juice, Teyla said, “I will speak with Dr. Zelenka this morning. Hopefully, he will be able to give me a list this afternoon and we will be able to begin immediately.”
“Okay,” John replied and Ronon nodded.
Teyla gently squeezed John’s arm before withdrawing her hand. “It will be okay, John. Rodney will be returned to us when he’s meant to be returned.”
“You really think that?” John asked, disbelievingly. She nodded as he asked, “Have your people ever disappeared and then returned?”
“Sometimes. We believe that in those instances, they were meant to take a journey to reveal something to themselves. I believe Dr. Archer called it a ‘vision quest’ when we spoke of it.” Lorne casually approached them and Teyla stood. “I will speak with you both later. Hopefully we will be able to resolve this quickly.”
John nodded as he and Ronon also stood. “What can I do for you, Major?” he asked, acknowledging Lorne.
“Just need you to sign off on some requisition forms and such, sir,” Lore replied nonchalantly, tapping the datapad resting in the cradle of his opposite arm as they headed to John’s office. “The Daedalus is due to arrive soon and the city won’t run herself.”
John said nothing, but inwardly agreed, wishing he didn’t have to deal with this part of his job. He hated the bureaucracy of it, even if he knew it was a necessary evil. He was, first and foremost, a pilot and wished he could leave it at that.
Lorne seated himself in one of the chairs across from John’s desk as John sat and opened the file on the datapad. John worked quietly, glancing over the paperwork that outlined what he and Lorne had already discussed and agreed upon before signing each of the necessary documents.
When he was finished, he saved the files on the datapad, replaced the stylus, and slid it across his desk to Lorne before folding his hands on top of his desk. “Anything else I can help you with, Major?” he asked.
“I miss Dr. McKay too, sir,” Lorne replied. “For all his abrasiveness, he was amazing at what he did and it looked like he was doing you some good too, not just this city.”
“Thank you, Major,” John choked out. “Dismissed.”
Lorne picked up the datapad and nodded, dispensing with the normal salute and left. John gripped his hands together for a long moment before forcing himself to let go.
He turned his attention to the upcoming two weeks’ duty rosters and training schedules. While he was at it, he also approved all of the mission requests that Elizabeth had sent him with only a cursory glance to see where they were going and for what. The detail she went into to explain where they were going and why had once amused him and he and Rodney would make a game of seeing how colorful she got in describing “I’d like to send a team back to another sand/ice/water planet because we picked up a weird energy reading the first time we were there.” Now he just didn’t care – the details reminded him too much of Rodney.
At some point in the middle of it, John’s radio clicked. Touching it, he replied, “Go ahead.”
“Have you had lunch yet, Colonel?” Carson’s accented voice asked over the link.
“Not yet,” John replied, his stomach growling at the mention of food. Looking at his watch, he realized that it was now the middle of the afternoon.
“Would you like to grab a bite with me?”
“Sure.” He saved what he was doing on his computer. “Meet me in the mess in five minutes?”
“No problem,” Carson replied lightly. “I’m leaving now.”
John nodded to himself. “So am I.”
Neither man talked as they ate and John was glad for that. The past twenty-seven hours had been hard enough and he was glad to have someone with whom he didn’t have to pretend or justify himself.
“I heard Elizabeth wants you to add another member to your team,” Carson said as John walked him back to the infirmary.
“Yeah,” John replied. “Teyla’s taken charge of talking to Zelenka about possible candidates.”
Carson nodded. “He would know the best people for your team.” When they reached the door to Carson’s lab, Carson said, “I miss him too, John. There are days when I still expect him to pop up have it be nothing more than a bad dream.” He sighed. “But I’m starting to think that maybe Elizabeth is right – that it’s time we move forward. You know Rodney wouldn’t want you moping around like this.”
“I know,” John admitted quietly, staring at the floor. “But with him gone, it feels like I’m missing something essential.”
Carson smiled fondly. “I know what you mean. Rodney’s got all the grace of a bull in a china shop and yet he somehow creeps inside of you and makes you like him.” At John’s startled look, Carson admitted, “Oh, aye, I agree with you that I really doubt he’s dead. But, for whatever reason, it’s not his time to come home yet.”
“How do you –?” John started, but the question died on his lips.
Carson chuckled as he clapped John on the shoulder. “Let’s just say it’s a wee bit of the Highland magic and leave it at that.” He moved past John and went into his lab. “Now, off with you. I’m sure Teyla’s looking for you.”
John nodded, still looking a little dazed before seeming to shake himself out of it and taking his leave with an “I’ll see you later, Carson.”
Carson watched him go with a shake of his head. He was fond of the other man and he hated seeing how he was beating himself up over what had happened to Rodney.
Leaving the infirmary, John tapped his radio. “Teyla, come in.”
“Yes, John?” her voice asked over the link.
“Was Zelenka able to give you a list of names?” he asked, a knot twisting in his stomach.
“He was,” she replied simply. “I was just about to call Ronon and you to see if you both would like to join me in the mess hall to begin going over the list.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” he replied. “What’s your e.t.a.?”
“About five minutes. I’m in my quarters.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there. I’m coming from the infirmary.”
“Duly noted. I will see you in five minutes.”
John picked up an apple and a water bottle when he entered the mess hall and headed over to where Teyla and Ronon were sitting. “So…” he said, sitting down. “Who do we have?”
“It’s a relatively short list,” Teyla stated, turning the datapad for John to see. “Dr. Zelenka gave me ten names, saying that they were the only ones who would be even remotely close to filling Rodney’s shoes.”
“In terms of smarts, experience, field of expertise, what?” John asked, hunching over and perusing the names on the list and tapping on one name to bring up her file.
“Dr. Zelenka said it was in terms of both intelligence and their experiences here in Atlantis. They all also have the ATA gene and a practical knowledge of Ancient technology, how it works and how to fix it.”
“Zelenka told you to say that, didn’t he?” John asked.
“He did,” Teyla replied with a smile and a slight bow of her head.
“I guess we should talk to all of them, then,” John said, sitting back in his chair and interlacing his fingers behind his head. “What do you think, Ronon?”
“I think we should also test their fighting skills,” he commented. “I’ll take care of that.”
“You can do the hand-to-hand,” John commandeered. “I’ll take care of the marksmanship test.”
“Fine,” Ronon replied gruffly.
“I think we should all sit in on the interviews,” Teyla added. “They will be on our team, so I think that we should make the decision as a team.”
John could tell that Teyla was forcing him into that corner to make sure he actually talked to all of them and simply didn’t dismiss them out of hand. “All right,” he said shortly. “Teyla, get in touch with Albertson and see how soon she can meet with us.”
“I have already taken the liberty of setting up interviews with each of them,” Teyla replied. “They all seemed quite excited at the prospect of joining the team.”
“Thank you, Miss Moneypenny,” John replied with a sigh as he hid his face in his hands.
“I do not see what the secretary from that Bond film you made us watch has to do with this,” Teyla replied with a hint of disdain.
“I think it was supposed to be a compliment,” Ronon replied with a grin.
“Don’t mind me,” John said as he crossed his arms on the table and put his head on top of them. “I’m just slowly going mad. This is not happening.”
“You must pull yourself together, John,” Teyla said. “Sometimes these things are meant to test those left behind as well.” She sighed. “I must be going. I promised Dr. Archer I would discuss some more of my people’s mythology with her. Our first meeting is right after dinner in the conference room below Elizabeth’s office.”
John groaned. “The universe really is out to get me,” he groaned into his arms as Teyla left. Sitting up and sighing, he looked at Ronon for a long moment, who patiently stared back, arms crossed over his chest. “So what’s your take on all of this?” John finally asked, propping his head up on a hand and looking at Ronon out of the corner of his eye.
Ronon shrugged. “I think it’s good that you’re mourning Rodney, but I think you’re going about it the wrong way. On Sateda, we honor our fallen comrades with our words and our deeds.”
“He wasn’t killed in battle,” John ground out. “He was lost in a fucking sandstorm.”
“What’s your mission, Sheppard?”
“What’s my –?” John’s eyes narrowed. “We’re here to meet with other cultures and gain knowledge and access to technologies and information that would help us fight against enemies that would threaten Earth.”
“And?”
“And by that logic, Rodney went MIA in the line of duty.”
“Think about that,” Ronon said as he stood and clapped John on the shoulder.
John groaned and put his head back down on his arms as Ronon walked away. He hated his friends and their logic. He just wanted Rodney back safe and sound.
“Okay, so time for number eight,” John said, sitting down next to Teyla.
“Number ten,” Teyla reminded him.
“But I thought Curtis was number seven,” John said, confused.
“Nine,” Ronon agreed.
“And we’ve been at it for how long?” John sighed, wiping his eyes.
“Five days,” Ronon answered.
“Okay, last one. Let’s get this over with. Who’s next?”
“Johan Darby,” Teyla replied.
“What kind of name is that?”
Both Teyla and Ronon shrugged as Darby came in and sat across from the three of them. “My father’s English and my mother was Swiss,” he replied easily.
“Welcome, Johan,” Teyla replied easily and gave him a warm smile. “Dr. Zelenka has spoken quite highly of you.”
“Thank you,” he replied with a grin. “Both he and Dr. McKay have been amazing to work with.”
John glared at him, but Darby didn’t flinch under his gaze and actually seemed to be completely sincere unlike at least half of the previous interviewees. “What exactly do you do, Darby?” he asked calmly.
“I have a dual degree in biogeochemistry and engineering,” Darby replied. “I’ve been heading a team that’s been studying the Wraith technology that’s been brought in.”
“It says here that you are an original member of the expedition,” Teyla commented, glancing down at the datapad in front of her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Darby replied. “When I heard the SGC was looking for scientists to come, I volunteered.”
“For a one-way trip to another galaxy?” John interrupted.
“Honestly, Col. Sheppard,” Darby grinned, “there aren’t many options for a science geek in Podunk, Mississippi, and as cool as it was working at Area 51 on some of the Goa’uld technology, it’s not every day that you actually get to go to another galaxy and see alien technology being used as it was intended and by the people who created it.”
John couldn’t help but smile inside at Darby’s enthusiasm. It reminded him a lot of Rodney when they first arrived in Atlantis. And the fact that he still seemed to feel that way probably meant he had a lot of flexibility and resiliency – both great things if he was going to be on a ‘Gate team. John let the rest of Teyla’s questions and Darby’s answers wash over him as he half-listened.
Ronon’s only question was if Darby knew how to fight.
“Of course,” he replied. “I have three older brothers and two younger sisters. Between my brothers’ roughhousing and protecting my sisters, I quickly learned how to handle myself in a fight. And I also know how to handle a gun. Where I grew up, you knew your way around a gun by the time you were five, whether you wanted to or not.”
“Go ahead, Sheppard,” Ronon told him.
“Okay.” John leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table and interlacing his fingers. “What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?”
“African or European?” Darby asked with a straight face. “Because I could give you either answer.”
“Seriously?” John asked in surprise and Darby nodded. “That won’t be necessary,” he replied, forcing himself to become serious again. “Who’s your favorite superhero?”
“Storm from the X-Men.”
John raised an eyebrow. “Interesting choice. Most guys wouldn’t admit to that.”
Darby shrugged. “I think it’s interesting how she can control the weather. Plus, most of the stand-alones are overrated. Though, I do think Batman should get credit for not actually having any superpowers and for allowing revenge to be the basis for his whole mission. Not many people want to admit that society as a whole is idolizing him for that.”
John nodded. “So, when can we schedule you for a hand-to-hand test with Ronon and some time in the shooting range with me?”
Darby shrugged again. “My schedule’s pretty flexible right now, so whenever is convenient for you and Ronon.”
“How about this afternoon?” John looked at his watch. “Let’s say we meet in the gym in half an hour. That work for you, Ronon?” he asked, looking over at his teammate.
“Fine,” Ronon replied.
“Okay,” John said, looking back at Darby. “We’ll see you in the gym in half an hour.”
“Thank you for allowing us to interview you,” Teyla said as Darby stood.
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he replied. “Thank you all for interviewing me.”
After he left, Teyla confessed, “I think he is the first one whom I do not mind calling me ‘ma’am’. There is a certain sincerity in him that I find refreshing.”
“I like him,” Ronon commented.
“I do too,” John added. “If the fighting and marksmanship go well, I think we should keep him.”
“We should still at least consider the others we’ve interviewed,” Teyla gently chided. “Just in case one of them is a better fit than Dr. Darby. Besides, I’ve been informed by Elizabeth that it’s good manners to do so, especially since we’ve already taken the time to do the interviews.”
“Fine,” John huffed. “We’ll consider everyone.” He hated that Elizabeth was forcing them to do this. He hated that everyone else was so ready and willing to move on and he couldn’t. Quickly pushing his chair back and standing, he said, “I’ll see you later, Teyla, unless you decide to sit in on the fight and the marksmanship test. I’ll see you in half an hour, Ronon.”
John considered going for a run, but nixed the idea, knowing that if he started now with the mood he was in, he wouldn’t be done in time. He thought of seeing if anyone was in the gym and up to some friendly sparring, but knew that he wouldn’t be able to concentrate enough to put up a good fight. John sighed. He wanted Rodney to be here so badly. He needed Rodney to be sarcastic with, to argue with, to just be with.
Teyla caught up with John. “Are you all right, John?” she asked. “You’ve seemed rather depressed lately.” She paused for a moment. “Or, at least, more so than what’s become normal for you.”
“I’ll be fine, Teyla,” he replied in his most optimistic tone. “I’m just ready for the interviews to be over.”
“They will be soon, John,” she replied. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk with Kate about this?”
“I’m sure. Look, I need to get ready for Darby’s other tests. I’ll see you later.”
John jogged down to the shooting range and set up the items they’d need for his portion of the tests. When he got to the gym, Ronon and Darby were already there, warming up. Well, Darby was warming up and Ronon was waiting.
“Hey,” John said, leaning back against the wall next to Ronon.
“Hey,” Ronon replied. “Tell me again why your people like doing this before a practice fight.” He pointed with his chin to Darby, who was straightening up from stretching.
John shrugged. “They think it’ll help things not hurt so much when they’re done.”
“I’m ready,” Darby said. “Hi, Col. Sheppard.”
“Darby,” John acknowledged. “Don’t let me hold you up,” he said to Ronon.
John watched as Ronon pushed himself off the wall and stalked onto the mat. Darby watched him carefully, his posture relaxed but still holding a small amount of tension in order to be ready. John gave him credit for that. Eight of the other candidates had had no idea what to do and two had actually squeaked when Ronon had gotten within range.
Ronon threw the first punch and Darby blocked it while countering with a punch of his own. John watched critically as they fought and noted that Darby was definitely the best they’d seen. He did have a few gaps in his knowledge and Ronon was taking it easy on him, but John could tell they wouldn’t have to worry about Darby in the field.
When Ronon called it quits after a few minutes, he and John met by the door while Darby took a drink of water.
“Well?” Ronon asked quietly.
“I think he looks good,” John replied. “A little rough around the edges, but….” He shrugged. “What do you think?”
“Needs some more training, but I think he’s good.”
John nodded and said louder, “Come on, Darby. It’s time for target practice.”
Darby nodded and took another swig from his water bottle. “Lead on.”
The three men went down to the shooting range, where two paper targets had been set up and a P90 and a Beretta were laying on a table a few yards away. Ronon leaned against a back wall as both John and Darby put on earmuffs and glasses. John picked up the P90 and double-checked the magazine and took off the safety.
Handing it to Darby, he said, “This is called a P90 and it’s our standard personal defense weapon – or PDW – for our off-world teams.”
“I’m aware of what it is, Col. Sheppard,” Darby replied, amused. “It helps knowing what your own weapons are when dealing with alien technology. Which target do you want me to shoot?”
John shrugged. “You pick.”
Darby hefted the gun so its recoil would be absorbed by his body before squeezing off a short burst of bullets. John checked the target after Darby had finished and found the holes neatly centered on the target’s torso.
“Not bad,” John said, taking the P90 and handing Darby the Beretta.
Darby took off the safety and checked the clip himself before stabilizing his right hand with his left and squeezed off a few shots at the other target. As he set the gun down, John checked the target and found holes in the major fatality spots.
“I’m impressed,” he told Darby as they took off their protective gear.
“Thank you, Col. Sheppard,” Darby replied, blushing slightly.
“Give us some time to discuss things and we’ll get back to you.”
Darby nodded. “Thanks again,” he said before leaving.
“How did it go?” Teyla asked.
“I think he’s a keeper,” John said. “He looks like he’s a good fighter and he knows not only how to fire a gun, but where to hit.”
“Yeah, he’s good,” Ronon agreed.
“I believe so as well,” Teyla said. “I will tell Elizabeth we’ve made our decision and John, you can tell Darby.”
Continue to Part 8
