Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own grandiloquent delusions. And seriously, can someone get this Corey Hart song outta my head?
Never Surrender
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He's been gone way too long. I mean there's no possible way John Sheppard's luck is that good. Not only have I nearly killed him more than once, some strange twist of fate has finally called his bluff.
After the first three days of finding nothing, the stupid Ancient database finally coughed up a scrap of information on this stupid solar system in this stupid galaxy.
I had extrapolated what I found, wrote a program to sniff out information in the damaged database having anything to do with solar flares and time travel. Of course, I was on the verge of something great when Carter interrupted me. She kept blabbing on about well, I really don't know. "Hmmm?" was all I had said.
"McKay! You've been staring at that board for nearly two days!" She tugged on my arm. "Have you eaten at all today?"
I had turned around to face her, I'm sure with some ingenious answer, but the room kept spinning. The last thing I remember from that day was Sam's worried eyes looking down at me.
Another two days were lost in the infirmary. For the first time in, well, the last few months, I ignored my medical condition. No, no. Not ignore. I just plain forgot, that's all. If Sheppard finds out – when he gets back, because he is coming back – he may never leave me alone. Keller imprisoned me there, keeping me away from any sort of computer. She only discovered my radio because I was yelling at Zelenka about his ridiculous theory. That woman is way stronger than she looks, mind you. She finally released me with the usual threats; I think all doctors have the same out-patient handbook. Like a cup of coffee isn't going to be the first thing I find when I'm freed. After a shower and a change of clothes, I felt like a new man.
Zelenka came up with more ridiculous theories. Honestly, they were better than the other sorry excuses for astrophysicists, but still on that side of ludicrous. According to one of his theories, the Ancients, in their infinite wisdom appeared to be experimenting with solar flares and their effect on wormhole travel. Seriously, the Ancients experimented more than the average college girl, so I don't think he's that far off.
Checking my whiteboard proofs, I notice a correction. Carter. Fine. I would've caught it eventually. While I was incapacitated, I heard her muttering about the impossible and improbable problem I had created. Whether she believed it or not, Sam provided the final equation in my madness. After all, a similar solar flare had sent SG-1 thirty years into the past. Adding the final numbers to my theory was the least she could do.
Grabbing an illegal cup of coffee, I ran a simulation on my laptop. The colonel would eventually call a meeting, so I needed to be up to speed on whatever happened in my absence. Radek had appeared to keep everything in line, no doubt with Carter's help. Testing theories is one thing; proving them in time to save a life is a whole different animal.
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The inevitable meeting happens on day twelve. I've had way too much coffee today, and my nerves are pretty much shot due to lack of sleep. "Look," I explain again. "This solar system was known for its nearly predictable solar flares. M4S-587 shows up a number of times in the database."
"And it wasn't flagged?"
I can't help but frown at Sam. She of all people should know the answer to that. But this is my area of expertise. "Chances are some things were lost when we changed position, planets, whatever. Not to mention, this information is over ten thousand years old. So many systems were activated after the Tria commandeered The City, I'm still catching up. My point is," Oh yes, there's a point! I spin my laptop around to show her my brilliance. "There's evidence that Colonel Sheppard has been flung into the future."
"How far you think he went, Doc?"
Generally, I like Lorne. He doesn't ask too many stupid questions and he's always cautious. A certain commanding officer could learn a few things from the major. But I didn't have time for this. Too much coffee. "Do I look like I have a Timey Whimey Machine?" I blame Doctor Who. "This is a complicated process of determining –"
"Unscheduled off-world activation!" Chuck's voice interrupts just when I had the big reveal.
Carter slips from behind her desk, marching over to the tech's console. "What have you got?"
"Receiving an IDC." Chuck has a way of sounding calm at all times. But this time it's climbed a notch. Crap. "It's Colonel Sheppard!"
Seriously. There are, like, stars in his eyes. The hero returns.
"Lower the shield."
I follow Carter down the stairs, dreading the seconds. Vaguely, I hear Sam yell for a security detail as Sheppard pounds through the gate.
"Whoa!" John Sheppard has his hands up; he looks a bit unsteady, and a lot filthy.
"John!" Carter is amazed.
"Colonel!" Sheppard's eyes are wide as he glances around. He finally spots me, his tired eyes pinning me in place. "It worked! It worked. Rodney, you're a genius."
Duh, Colonel. But I'm not at all sure where this is going. "Okay," I say instead.
"How much time has gone by?" He takes another unsteady step down the ramp. Under streaks of dirt, he's rather pale. Is that sand in his hair?
"You've been missing for twelve days," Carter says, casting a glance in my direction.
Sheppard hasn't lowered his hands yet, but he starts talking to himself. Evidently, time travel does make you crazy. Or, if you're John Sheppard, crazier. "Twelve days, twelve days. Okay, she won't have had her baby yet." Lancing his CO with the crazy look, he holds out a hand to her. "Look, I know this sounds kinda weird, but we're on the clock."
Yep. Crazy.
"John, what are you talking about?"
He took a deep breath. "I know where Teyla is."
"What?" I can feel my panic meter ratchet up a notch. "We've been searching for weeks now. You're gone, God knows where, and you suddenly have the answer?" I'm the Answerman. Not him. Sheppard looks like he's been through hell and back, and he wants to look for Teyla now?
He continues down the ramp, guns still pointed in his direction, but he's oblivious. "Rodney."
Every once in a while, John shows identifiable emotion. He always has an expression, but nothing substantial. The look he gives me now is... well, I can only describe it as... fond. Those eyes of his are a startling shade of green-gold and suspiciously moist. His streaked appearance makes me think I'm seeing him through bars, and I blink. The expression is gone, and he's all business. Patting his pockets, he fishes out a crystal, making the kids with guns nervous.
"You're gonna need this. It's got all the information we need to get Teyla back." He sounds utterly exhausted and breathless, and it's all I can do not to reach out and touch him.
Sheppard starts listing to the right. Before I knew it, I was standing next to him, supporting him by the elbow. Looking closer, I see cracked lips and the sand in his hair and in every scrape and cut on his exposed skin. "You're real now. Before you weren't, but now you are," he whispers. His eyes have gone glassy, and now I'm worried.
"Infirmary. Now," Carter snaps as she taps her radio. "Jennifer, Colonel Sheppard is on his way down. Standard quarantine, possible compromise."
Possible compromise? Sam Carter doesn't know Sheppard like I do. No Replicator, clone, or otherwise could look at me the way he just did. "Where were you?" I ask again, but John looks like he's concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. He's leaning heavily on me now; his arm seems slightly thinner and his skin feels like parchment. Dehydration is evident, and it only makes me more curious.
"Sorry, Rodney. It's been almost a hundred thousand years since I've eaten."
This statement leaves me stunned; Sheppard fully collapses into a heap at my feet, nearly taking me with him. Ronon appears out of nowhere, and scoops him up. It took a minute for the marines to figure out what happened. By that time, Ronon was already entering the infirmary.
I tried to watch Keller poke Sheppard with needles, but my mind wouldn't shut off. One hundred thousand years? Was that fifty ahead and fifty back? If so, that would be amazing. What were the repercussions? Would we stumble over him again? Would this happen again? How did he get back? I cast my memory back to his earlier statement. I wasn't real before, but now I was? Lunatic.
On the other hand, maybe I was there. How would I be there, fifty thousand years in the future? Was he in a virtual environment? Was I? Did he get sucked into one of those repositories?
"Hey, McKay!" Conan was towering over me looking a little concerned. Or hungry. Couldn't tell which. Now I could hear Sheppard pleading with anyone who would listen that he was him. I ventured further into the infirmary, seeing the colonel in an isolation tent. Both arms were attached to boards; identical IV ports were in each hand. Sheppard looked like he barely had the strength to lift either of his arms, much less move off the bed.
"We don't have time for this," he kept saying. I wanted to go to him, but I was told –ordered, really. Whatever – to stay back. Why? Just in case he's a clone? Just in case he's a Replicator? It's a little late for that, but there were too many variables.
Backing away from the area, I had to get out. Hearing Sheppard's weakening voice, and watching the nurses debride the cuts and scrapes left me feeling light-headed. I felt a large hand on my back.
"Let's go get some food, McKay. Doc says we can bring Sheppard back some soup or something."
Absently, I nod and follow him out.
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Hours later, the colonel is pacing the isolation room like an animal. Not that I was monitoring him, or anything, but a shower, two bowls of soup, and three pudding cups later, Sheppard was less shaky and more angry. That little vein on the side of his neck, just above the iratus bug scar, throbbed with his pulse. I can't hear what he and Carter are arguing about, so I decide to check out the crystal and match it with some data.
M4S-587 came up with a belated note in the sensor log, warning of a possible solar flare. It happened within minutes of Sheppard dialing the gate. Right moment, wrong time. The flare was rather severe, which could account for being thrown forty-eight thousand years in the future. Sheppard's debriefing was less than focused, but I gathered some interesting information. However, nowhere on that crystal did it mention how Sheppard got back.
Once again, I've nearly killed John Sheppard. If I'm such a genius, why didn't I see this coming? This can't keep happening! One of us is going to lose it. Go stark raving mad. Something. I'll have to fix this operating system. I won't let another person go through what John went through. He won't tell me the details, but his eyes told me everything.
John Sheppard has the oldest eyes I've ever seen.
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The end.
