General Jack O'Neill ran a finger under his suddenly too tight collar and glanced in the rear view mirror for what had to be the nineteenth time in as many minutes. Caught Colonel Samantha Carter's clear blue-eyed gaze and almost blushed. "Are we really going to do this?"
"General, we have no other choice. No one else knows the city like them." Woolsey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It's been three years. Surely…" He trailed off.
O'Neill glanced across at Daniel Jackson, sitting so silently in the passenger seat. "What do you think?" he asked.
Daniel looked down at his hands. "I think that… on a personal level, this is a bad idea. McKay is going to eat us alive, that is of course if we can get in through the front gate. And Sheppard…" he closed his eyes for a second, remembering, "well no one here knows for certain what the Colonel's condition is." He stressed the title, and shot his friend a hard stare. "I know this is a military operation but frankly, you and Carter showing up here in full uniform is probably the wrong thing to do."
O'Neill swallowed. He knew that, but he also knew that if they could get McKay and Sheppard to even consider whether they were going with this, they needed to get them to make peace with the military again. Even though it was the military, at the IOA's urging that had tried to destroy Lt. Colonel John Sheppard before.
Three years. He doubted that was enough time for either man to forget, and even if they had tried to forget, the car crash would have been a daily reminder. He didn't want to even begin to think about forgiveness. That was never going to happen after what had been done to Sheppard and he knew it.
He drove on, unable to remember a time when he had felt more nervous of anything.
The road wound a little, and he had some difficulty locating the turning. The road was now unmade and he went slower as the car labored to cover the terrain. He had read the reports, every effort had been made to glean whatever small amounts of information they could about McKay and Sheppard, their lives together, the condition of the Colonel after the car crash that left him in critical condition with almost no success. McKay was good, his boast about being the smartest man in two galaxies was no idle one, and Sheppard's medical records were not available.
The property was fenced, the signs said electrified, and O'Neill had no doubt of that, the gate was also electric, with a key pad and a security camera. McKay and Sheppard were already holding the world at bay.
O'Neill pressed the button, they were here, if McKay and Sheppard gave them the brush off, his little group had tried…
He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice answered.
"I've been expecting you." The tones were hard and flat, but he recognized McKay's voice. "You had better come in."
There was a soft beep and the imposing gates swing inward. O'Neill sighed. At least they had got on the property.
The drive swung gently down hill, curving around to the right, and the O'Neill had to hold back a gasp when he saw the house. If rumour was true, McKay had bought the land before Sheppard's crash, and when John was in the hospital, Rodney had hired an architect and a bunch of consultants to build them a home. A home adapted to the needs of a man likely to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
Rumour also had it that Rodney then turned his enormous brain, and every last effort he had to research John's injuries, and put his lover back together piece by piece.
If the house was anything to go by, O'Neill had to give credit to gossip, the design aspects were clearly true.
The building was long and low, with plenty of natural light. No steps, and a wide doorway.
"I would say look what the cat dragged in, but our cats have better taste." The four of them jumped.
O'Neill's first thought was there's no way this is Rodney. The physicist was leaner and harder than he remembered. The tight dark jeans molded themselves to Rodney's body, the vest beneath the open Hawaiian shirt was dark blue to match the jeans and clung to Rodney's surprisingly developed pectoral muscles and hard, flat abdomen. His light brown hair was longer, curling at the back, and O'Neill had never seen the scientist's eyes so cold.
"McKay." Samantha Carter stepped forward.
"That would be Dr Sheppard-McKay to you." Rodney snapped. Clearly his previous interest in Sam was a dead end too.
Daniel shot a told-you-so glare at O'Neill and stepped forward. "Rodney, we're not here to upset you… Or John." He added hastily. "The Atlantis Project needs you."
The flash of something that looked like hatred burned bright in McKay's eyes just then, but his words were a surprise. "Daniel, we have no quarrel with you, this is just… difficult." Rodney sighed and raked a hand through his hair.
He shot a furious look at O'Neill and Carter. "I promised John that if we ever had to deal with this, we would both deal with it, and I would never try to hide anything from him or protect him. So, you had better come in." He turned, uncaring if they were following or not.
The house was everything O'Neill secretly hoped it would be. Testament to the love between the two men. Rodney had gone out and built it so that John would be able to cope with the long road to recuperation and rehabilitation.
"John's out on his run now, so I would appreciate it if you would lose the jackets, seeing you two is going to be hard enough without the added misery of his memories." Rodney waved a hand at the medal ribbons adorning O'Neill and Carter's uniform jackets.
Footsteps… "Rodney, I…" Sheppard's voice. O'Neill spun round.
His first thought, John was unchanged. Then he saw the panic flash through John's eyes, the nervous pause and he limped across to stand next to Rodney, now lit from the side wearing only a thin vest, board shorts and running shoes, his scars exposed it was worse than even O'Neill had imagined.
And there was real fear in Sheppard's eyes, the man was practically vibrating with tension. For the first time O'Neill realized the truth of the situation. John Sheppard's physical injuries had healed, well from the looks of things, but the trauma associated with the court martial which was obviously linked with the car crash in John's mind, that was something else altogether.
Rodney laid a gentle hand on John's shoulder. "John. It's okay. They can't do anything to you now." John's eyes darted from O'Neill to Carter and back, Woolsey and Jackson remained still not wanting to upset John further.
Sheppard relaxed into his husband's touch. "Sorry," he muttered thickly, "It's… you know…" he made a vague gesture with his hand.
"I suggest we take this into the lounge." Rodney's hand had moved to John's waist, and the lanky pilot almost huddled in to his embrace.
O'Neill glanced at his companions, this was going to be even tougher than he supposed.