A/N: So here's the sequel to Gemini, which is subsequently a result of Through a Mirror, Home. It's been a long time, no?
oOoOoOo
As soon as he entered his apartment, Brendan Dean started stripping. It wasn't something he normally did, but his skin was crawling. Throwing the files onto his desk, he struggled out of his jacket and tie. Ignoring the little anonymous box that arrived with Friday's mail, he practically ran for the shower. The itchy feeling persisted until he closed the door to his bathroom. It wasn't something he normally did, but he instantly felt better.
I wish I could turn off my brain! Just for tonight.
Letting the water rinse away his tension, Brendan stayed under the spray until long after the hot water ran cold. Drying off quickly, he tentatively entered his bedroom. The crawly, itching feeling was gone; only a headache remained.
Wrapped in a towel, he picked through his mail, placing envelopes in neat piles. His foot kicked the small box on the floor; Brendan had forgotten about the mysterious package. Plucking it off the floor, he opened it. A note was tied around a pretty green glass orb.
Thanks for your help.
A friend.
The name on the package was a Doctor Wren Kavanagh. Brendan remembered the quiet, ponytailed scientist, who was very helpful in deciphering McKay's patterns. The glass warmed in his hand, in turn warming his whole body.
Yawning, Brendan knew he'd have no problem sleeping tonight. Standing at the window, he felt a tiny mental tug, pulling his attention to a building across the street. "Man, I'm more tired than I thought," he yawned again.
Stumbling to his bed, fatigue overwhelmed him quickly. Darkness covered him like a warm blanket, lulling Brendan into a deep sleep.
oOoOoOo
"Sir?"
An urgent voice drew Brendan out of the darkness.
"Sir? You awake?"
Through lashes, he saw a blob hovering above him.
"Sir, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay?"
"N't g'd 'dea," he slurred.
The blurry blob above him snorted. "I know, sir, but Beckett is screaming in my good ear."
Beckett?
"Yes, sir. Now, if you could open your eyes…"
Obeying the voice, Brendan finally opened his eyes. Immediately regretting his decision, he was surprised to find the lights dimming to a tolerable level. The itchy, crawly feeling was back, but somehow different. It turned to a comforting hum, throbbing at the base of his skull. Blinking a few times, he focused on the persistent blob. The man's patch identified him as Major Lorne, E.
"Come on, sir. Up and at 'em."
Clearing his throat, Brendan raised his head to look at Lorne. "I'll have you know, I am perfectly happy down here."
"That may be, Colonel," the major smirked. "But if we don't get outta here soon, we'll have to swim."
"Wha –" With a shiver, Brendan felt the cold and wet seeping through his clothes.
"Ready sir?" Holding out a hand, Lorne grasped his CO's icy cold hand. He held on to the swaying man until he righted himself. "You might wanna bring up the lights a bit."
Confusion took up residence on Sheppard's face; Lorne got worried. Of all the times he'd picked his CO off the floor, this time Lorne wasn't sure the man would stay upright. It happened more often than not, but Sheppard had escaped the infirmary once again to save his city.
"Lights?" The ambient light along the floor brightened, reflecting off the ankle-deep water. His exposed skin was translucent against dark wet clothes. "That's cool."
Frowning, Lorne turned to the other soldiers. "Martins! Buckner! We got a way outta here?"
"Yes, Major," one said, gesturing to his right. "A little debris, but it should be cleared by the time we get there."
"Thanks, Martins." Steering the military commander toward the exit, Lorne walked slowly, hoping he wouldn't drop Sheppard.
"This place is huge! Where are we?"
"Colonel? Are you with me?"
"Huh? I'm fine. I think. My ears are ringing, and I have a headache. Think I scraped my arm – yeah, it's scraped –" He stopped, looking up at the man clutching his arm. Lorne's face contorted into something between confusion and worry. "What?"
Reaching up, Lorne tapped his comm. "Lorne to Beckett." The major cringed at the doctor's raised voice.
"If you're not in my infirmary in the next ten minutes, I will find the longest, thickest needle ta poke ya with. Then, you're next on the list for a complete physical. And that's because yer only an accessory."
"Sorry, Doc! I'm bringing him now." He glanced up to find Sheppard staring at him with a guarded expression.
"You're not taking me anywhere. Who's your superior? Why did you bring me here?" Sheppard's body tensed as he jerked his arm away. Backing a few steps, he carefully placed his body between the wall and Lorne; he was able to see nearly everyone in the corridor.
Raising his hands slowly to placate Sheppard, Lorne forced himself into the CO's line of sight. "Colonel Sheppard, I need to return you to the infirmary, ASAP. Doc Beckett is furious with you, by the way."
Shaking his head, Sheppard leaned heavily against the wall. "Colonel? I'm no colonel. Lieutenant once, sure. But no colonel."
"Sir, if we could just –"
"Look," he said, rising to his full height. "I don't know who this Sheppard person is, or whoever. My name is Brendan Dean. Agent Dean to you, Sunshine. NSA."
Tapping his comm again, Lorne nooded. "Yeah, Doc. We've go a big problem."
"What?" Rodney McKay asked, splashing through water. "What's the problem? I mean, besides nearly getting blown up in the bowels of the city."
Blinking, Brendan re-focused his attention on the newcomer; memory stretched, and returned. "I know you."
McKay stopped short. "Well, of course you do. Don't be ridiculous." Waving a hand, he marched closer. "Why are you soaking wet? Did you fall?"
"No!" Brendan said indignantly. Glancing at Lorne, he revised his answer. "Yes? I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? I always thought that hair would save you from cracking that hard head of yours. I think –"
"There's nothing wrong with my hair. Why –"
"Sirs! Please!" Lorne interjected. "Can this wait? We need to get out of here right now!"
Both men nodded, glaring at each other.
"Fine."
"Whatever."
"I don't even know where here is! And now, people are yelling at me, my head hurts, and I… I feel…" Brendan cast his eyes up, taking in the cathedral-like ceiling. "That's so beautiful."
"Sheppard? What is wrong with you?"
"Sir, let's go," Lorne took his CO's arm and guided him toward the exit.
"You really don't have to call me 'sir', you know. I do have a name."
"Well, Colonel Sheppard –"
Brendan halted, jerking his arm away. "My name is not Sheppard. It's Dean. Brendan Dean."
Chuckling, McKay shook his head. "That was funny, like, six months ago, Colonel. I should've never told you that agent's name."
"But that is my name. And you're that crazy scientist! I knew I knew you!" Then everything began falling into place. "Wait. If you're him, then I'm him. And if I'm him, he's –" The dark room flashed white; his vision darkened. I hate this part…
Lorne barely had time to catch his commanding officer before he slumped to the watery floor.
oOoOoOo
Brendan woke to the sound of someone trying to kill their keyboard. Letting himself stretch lazily, he finally opened his eyes.
"About time you woke up."
"Hey, Doctor McKay," Brendan yawned, ignoring the other man's scowl. "What time is it?"
"Lunch time, tomorrow, if you must know." Rodney closed his laptop, fixing Brendan with piercing glare. "How did you get here?"
The heart monitor began beeping wildly. "I… I really don't know. One minute, I was in my room, getting ready for bed. Then… well, now I'm here."
"You know how impossible this is, right? Did you touch anything? See anyone?"
"Look, pal, I don't know! The last time I saw you, you stepped through a fancy mirror and disappeared. That whole building went up in flames, and you expect answers from me?"
Flashing a crooked frown, Rodney stood slowly. "I can't help you unless –"
"What're you two on about? All this yelling. This is an infirmary!" Carson switched off the heart monitor. "Colonel – sorry. Brendan. How do you feel?"
Leaning back against the pillows, Brendan sighed. "Tired, I guess. My ears are still ringing, and there's this hum at the back of my head."
"Ha!" Rodney said triumphantly. "I knew he could feel The City!"
"The City?" Surveying his surroundings, Brendan glanced at the stained glass above him. "This place is cool."
"Cool? What are you, twelve?" Hugging his laptop to his chest, McKay looked at Brendan with an uncertain smile. "Well, I have work to do."
"Wait!" Brendan sat upright, suddenly uneasy. "Where ya goin'?"
"What do you care?" McKay set his jaw, his mouth forming a stubborn line.
Crossing his arms, Brendan was ready to be just as stubborn. "You don't have to be like that."
"Oh knock it off, the both of ya," Carson said, pushing his way between them. "You," he said, pointing at Brendan. "Lie back so I can examine ya. And you," he growled, pointing to Rodney. "Go get something to eat and take a nap."
"He started it," Brendan pouted.
Carson eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure you're not Colonel Sheppard?"
"He wishes," Rodney muttered as he left.
Staring after McKay, Brendan resumed his frown.
"Don't mind Rodney. He's just concerned for ya." Pulling a scanner out of his pocket, Carson began checking his patient.
Brendan yawned. "He and my mom would get along just fine."
"Yer mother?" Carson blurted.
"Yep. The Judge can be stern and humorless, but she does care."
"Ye call yer own mother The Judge?"
Shrugging, Brendan winced. "Yeah. I mean she really is a judge. In New York."
"I see," the doctor said quietly. "Colonel Sheppard isn't very forthcoming with his history. We only just found out he had family."
Watching the scanner move slowly over his body, Brendan smiled drowsily. "How long have you known him?"
"Goin' on five years. And I can barely get him to tell me if he's in pain."
"Well, doc, sometimes it's just easier to handle it on your own than burden anyone else."
"Och! Not you too!"
Brendan laughed, but stopped; the pain in his chest intensified. "Ow! What happened to Sheppard anyway?"
"That's a long story. I'll tell you later, after you've had something to eat, and a bit of a rest." Looking up from his scanner, Carson found his patient already asleep.
oOoOoOo
"How is he, Carson?" Elizabeth Weir stood by her CMO's bed, frowning. She was due back on M56-780, having returned when her hand-picked team had allergic reactions to the domesticated animals. John went down quick, along with a few of the scientists. People shouldn't be that pale, she thought.
"He'll be fine. The reaction cleared up shortly after they returned, so his vitals should be back to normal soon. His little excursion didn't help, but with some rest, he should be right as rain."
Nodding, she placed a hand on the colonel's shoulder. "All right then. Keep me informed, Carson."
With a gentle ahem, Carson gestured toward his office. "There is another matter ye should know about." He told her about Brendan, and his mysterious appearance.
Elizabeth sat down, head in her hands. "Why now?"
"That's a question for Rodney, perhaps. I'm sure when he takes care of the Cantano situation, he'll do his best to get John back."
"I know, I know. This is just bad timing, Carson."
Pouring two cups of coffee, the doctor handed one to the expedition leader. "Everything will be fine, Elizabeth."
"I hope you're right."
oOoOoOo
Waking with a start is not the best way to begin the day.
"Whoa, sir. You okay?"
"Um, yeah. Just," Brendan waved his hand vaguely around. "A lot to take in."
"Tell me about it." Lorne tapped his comm, listening intently. "Lorne. What? How? I'll be right there."
"Anything I can do?"
Shaking his head, the major smiled then turned to leave. "If you could tell me where Doctor Cantano is hiding, it would be a step. Gotta go, sir."
"Wait!" Brendan absently inquired of the hum at the back of his head. "She's in Tower Three, west pier, section forty-nine, level three."
Lorne froze, turning on his heel. "What did you say?"
Brendan repeated the information. "Hey, what's naquada?"
Lorne's eyes widened. "Doctor McKay! This is Major Lorne. Meet me at the west pier transporter." And he was gone.
"Glad to help," Brendan said to no one. Gazing around the infirmary, he absorbed every detail. So much other information popped unbidden into his head. The City reached out to him, demanding his presence in the chair room.
"Chair room?"
The City obliged him with a map, which he immediately committed to memory. Leaving his bed, Brendan was compelled to move quickly. He found himself in a transporter unit, pressing an area on the panel behind him. The doors opened, depositing him on the right level.
"That is seriously cool."
Urging him forward, The City made various complaints. "Hold yer horses, I'm coming as fast as I can."
As soon as he entered the chair room everything lit up. Moving directly to the odd-looking throne, Brendan sat down. Displays sprang up all around, filling his mind with information.
"What the hell are you doing here?" a screeching voice asked, pulling Brendan out of his stupor.
"Doctor McKay! How are ya? Did you know I could fix things with my mind? Well, not just me. Atlantis is –"
"Yes, yes I know. Cool." Rodney fired off a rapid succession of snaps. "Why are you here? And hurry up, I haven't got all night."
Powering down the chair, Brendan folded his hands in his lap. "That Cantano person set up some sort of power surge with a naquada generator, whatever that is. We fixed it, by the way."
"What? Fine," Rodney plugged in his computer. With fingers flying across the keyboard, he mumbled to himself. A HUD appeared, showing the section Maria had sabotaged. "All right, everything looks to be in order."
"You're welcome," Brendan said offhandedly. Glancing around, he whistled. "I can't believe it exists."
"Mmm, yes," Rodney said absently. "It does in this reality; in yours, it was destroyed. Shutting down the HUD, he turned to face the NSA agent. "That box of items that you apparently found, were recovered from that city."
Frowning, Brendan paced around the chair, hands never leaving it. "That's a bummer. Explains a lot, though."
"What do you mean?" It wasn't that Rodney was interested, but this man who walked around in his best friend's body intrigued him.
Yawning, Brendan leaned against the chair. "Your case. Since you were working with the military, it was difficult to solve. All the roadblocks and red tape. I can see why you ran."
"So you put two and two together. Congratulations. Is that why you let me go?"
"Nah," Brendan replied. "That mirror thing distracted me." With a wink, he walked toward the exit.
"Hmph," Rodney murmured. He watched the agent leave. "Do you even know where you're going?"
"Yep. Back to bed."
"The infirmary's the other way."
"I know. Thought I'd sleep in a real bed. Going to his room."
Rodney snorted. "And you know where that is?"
"I do, Doctor McKay," Brendan said, lopsided grin curving his lips. "You're not the only one who knows the secrets of the Fire Swamp."
Shaking his head bemused, Rodney shut down his computer. "Now, see, I thought the two of you had nothing in common."
"So Sheppard's got good taste in movies too?"
oOoOoOo
Waking in an unfamiliar place is unnerving. Brendan opened his eyes to a sun-filled room, reflection of the water below adorning the ceiling. Glancing up, he saw Johnny Cash frowning down at him from his perch on the wall.
A tentative noise caught his attention; a chirp from the bedside table. Brendan placed the radio in his ear. "Hello?"
"Hullo, indeed, Mister Dean."
Brendan was not prepared for the onslaught of Gaelic and stilted English from Carson Beckett.
"My apologies, Doctor. I'll be right there." Taking the radio out of his ear, Brendan took a deep breath. Walking to what looked like a closet, he sent a thought to open the door. It opened, revealing a whole lot of black and grey.
BDUs, right? Battle Dress Uniform.
Laying grey cargo pants and black shirt on the bed, Brendan readied himself for the day ahead. After the best shower he'd ever taken, he dressed quickly. Carson's threatening tone made no room for negotiation.
He had seen Sheppard's scars. The ones criss-crossing his back surprised Brendan; they were much older than the rest. Either the colonel was every bit the soldier he seemed to be, or the guy was a magnet for trouble.
Checking his watch, then his internal map, Brendan made his way to the infirmary.
"'Bout bloody time ye got here, Mister Dean," the doctor growled. "I've a good mind ta lock ye up in quarantine."
"Whoa, doc'" Brendan said, raising his hands to placate the other man. "There was this problem –"
Carson cut him short with a practiced glare. "I know all about yer excursion, Mister Dean." Directing his patient to a bed, the doctor pulled out his tiny scanner. "Well, it seems yer none the worse for wear. Everything checks out. How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Never better." Brendan found himself glancing toward the exit. "So am I free to go?"
Frowning, the doctor nodded. "Aye. But no running, no sparring, and no turning anything on for Rodney or Atlantis. Got it?" Carson lay a hand on the other man's arm. "You may want to keep your... condition under wraps until we can meet properly with Elizabeth."
"Sure thing, Doctor Beckett." Brendan hopped off the bed, leaving immediately. Rodney McKay fell into step next to him. Brendan had the feeling Sheppard and McKay did this often.
"So, I see you're free from the voodoo high priest's clutches."
Brendan snorted. "Yeah. I'm starving, so I hope we're headed to the cafeteria, or whatever you have here."
"Mess hall," Rodney corrected absently. Pulling out a tablet computer from somewhere, he tapped the screen a few times. "According to my inventory, there's no orb device here on Atlantis.
Halting mid-stride, Brendan caused another scientist to collide with him. A really hot scientist. Flashing a smile, he felt a tap at the back of his head. "Hey! What was that for?"
Shaking his head, Rodney continued forward, muttering about flyboys and Kirk.
oOoOoOo
Making his way through the line, Brendan half-heartedly listened to McKay's interrogation of the kitchen staff and the continuous ranting about his own staff. As he chose items from the line, Brendan's mind started reeling. What if I get stuck here? And a military commander. I've never commanded anything, let alone worked with a team of people. In another galaxy. Whatever happens to Sheppard, will happen to me. Like allergic reactions to a pet. Was Sheppard allergic to anything else?
"No. As far as we know, just that particular animal. And yes," Rodney said with a small smile. "You did say that out loud. I wonder if there're any muffins left."
Yes. McKay and Sheppard definitely did this often.
Grabbing a pastry, Brendan paused at the purple hash browns and pale yellow eggs. Taking a little of each, he waited for Rodney to find a seat.
The table they came to was occupied by two other people, a giant and a petite copper-haired beauty. Brendan smiled shyly when she acknowledged him.
"John, it is good to see you! Are you feeling well?"
"Um, yeah. A lot better."
"Wanna spar later?" the giant grumbled.
"Nah, Doctor Beckett says I have to take it easy." Brendan nearly let his mask of indifference slip, when he saw Rodney's wide blue eyes.
The giant's brow arched upward. "That's never stopped you before."
"I think he means later. Like tomorrow," McKay said around a mouthful of eggs. "He's busy today."
"Oh yeah? Doin' what?"
"Ronon," the woman said, firm tone belying her friendly smile. "Let John rest. It has been a difficult two weeks."
Rodney nodded briskly while Brendan shrugged. "Yeah. Tomorrow. I've got some paperwork to catch up on, anyway." God, I hope there's paperwork!
Closing his eyes, Brendan inquired The City about the colonel's office. Two levels down, east side of Atlantis. The Daedalus would dock in twenty-five days. What's a Daedalus? The over-eager city answered with schematics, stats, and mission reports.
"John? Are you unwell?"
Opening his eyes, Brendan put on his best smile. "I'm fine. Just thinking." Thinking about how Sheppard could live with such a persistent and pervasive partially sentient building. The colonel's schedule popped into his head, detailing a truly foreign way of life.
Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry. Pushing the eggs around his plate, Brendan let their conversations wash over him. The woman beside him was Teyla, a refugee from Athos. Ronon, the giant, was from Sateda.
Glancing out the observation windows, Brendan didn't feel like he was on some alien world. The sky was blue, the ocean was vast, and fluffy clouds dotted the sky.
"You need to eat," Rodney fussed, placing a small muffin on Brendan's plate.
"Yes, mom." With a sigh, Brendan considered the body he resided. The colonel was all lean muscle, whereas his own body was just plain lean. The colonel had a suspicious all-over tan; Brendan had always been decidedly pale.
Scooping the rest of his eggs into his mouth, Brendan studied the people around him. The pretty scientist smiled at him from across the room, which he returned, causing a cascade effect. More pretty women, more smiles.
"Are you blushing?" Rodney asked, eyes widening. "Oh my God, you are!" Rising, he snatched his muffin back in disgust.
"Hey!"
Looking down his nose, McKay's crooked mouth curved into a cold smile. "When you're done flirting with half the expedition, come see me in Lab Six."
Watching the scientist retreat, Teyla frowned at the other man. "I will never understand why you insist on antagonizing Rodney, John."
"I think it's funny," Ronon said, mopping up jam with a piece of bread.
"You would," Brendan replied. Clearing his tray, he filled two cups of coffee, and consulted his internal map. "I'll see you guys later."
oOoOoOo
Reaching Lab Six without incident, Brendan only found harried scientists.
"Are you looking for Doctor McKay?" A woman spoke up from the nearest station. Giving a coy smile, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder. "I think he's in his personal lab."
Brendan smiled. "Thanks, I'll just –" he tilted his head back toward the entrance.
Ten minutes later, he heard yelling. Rodney seemed to be negotiating his release. Placing the mugs on the floor, Brendan drew his sidearm, thankful the colonel carried one.
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"You do know! You always say you're a genius, so I know you have it!"
"Look, Cantano, you are mistaken. That planet was destroyed a thousand years ago! You can look it up for yourself in the database!"
Peeking around the corner, Brendan took in the situation. Cantano held a strange-looking weapon to McKay. The woman was sweating profusely, her hands shaking badly. Apparently, this reaction took longer to leave her system. Or maybe something else was involved?
Leaning back against the wall, Brendan closed his eyes. He had memorized the layout of the room, as well as every item in the room. He only had one shot; there was no way he would hurt the woman. As long as McKay stayed in one place, Brendan knew he could do this.
Taking a deep breath, Brendan thumbed the safety on his weapon, and jumped through the entrance. "Hold it!"
The woman startled, her weapon discharged a flash of blue light that arched over Rodney's shoulder. Brendan aimed for the handle and pulled the trigger. Cantano dropped her weapon, and collapsed in a heap.
"Oh my God! She could've shot – You could've shot me!"
"I wasn't aiming for you, Doctor McKay! I –"
"Would you stop calling me that? It's creeping me out!"
"That's your name, isn't it?"
Rodney took a deep breath, snatching his radio from his desk. "It's my name, yes. But Sheppard never calls me that."
Holstering his weapon, Brendan knelt down beside the woman. Checking her pulse, he took his own deep breath. "She's alive, but her fever's pretty bad." Glancing up at McKay, Brendan frowned. "It's a sign of respect, McKay. I was taught people with titles worked a long time to earn them, so we used them."
"Yes, well, that's fine. But the colonel doesn't, so you shouldn't."
"Whatever," Brendan said with a shrug. He gathered the woman in his arms. "Call Doctor Beckett; we'll meet him at Transporter Four."
"Fine," Rodney huffed. He notified Carson as they walked down the corridor. "Is that coffee?"
"Yeah. It's probably ice cold by now."
Waving a dismissive hand, Rodney picked up both mugs. He took a sip with a wince. "Oh, that's terrible." Drinking more, he followed Brendan to the transporter.
"I can't believe you're drinking that."
"What? I need the caffeine."
Brendan grimaced. "Well, it's no Jamaican Blue."
A groan escaped Rodney's lips as he sipped on the second cold cup. "That's not even fair, Agent Dean."
Adjusting the woman in his arms so that they could all fit inside the transporter, Brendan smiled wistfully. "I've got a pound of St. Helena blend at home."
Rodney looked up as the doors opened. "Dean and Deluca? I did a stint at NYU –"
"This way, Mister Dean!" Carson waved them over to a waiting gurney.
Brendan lay the woman on the bed, quickly moving back to let the medical team do their jobs.
Following them into the infirmary, they sat in the chairs in the small waiting area. Brendan rubbed tired eyes, wondering if Cantano would pull through.
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Rodney said quietly.
"Yeah, I hope so." Scrubbing hands through his hair, Brendan rose. "I think I need some Tylenol and a nap."
McKay raked eyes over him, concerned. "Headache?"
"Yeah. That hum is really annoying sometimes. How does he deal with it?"
Rising, McKay gestured toward the exit. "Come on. We'll check on her later."
Weaving their way through the many corridors, Rodney led him to yet another lab. "I have a theory about how to get you back. But you have to tell me everything that happened before you got here."
Slumping down on a stool, Brendan recounted his story. "There's not much to tell. Like I said earlier, I got that thing in the mail. From Lockton; a Doctor Kavanagh sent it to me."
Rodney snorted. "I doubt that. I mean, the Kavanagh of this reality would do something like that, but in your reality, he was actually not a total waste of skin. A pleasure to work with, in fact." Rising, he grabbed two mugs, filling them with freshly brewed coffee. "Carson would kill me if he knew you were drinking coffee."
"Well, he won't hear it from me." Taking a cautious but greedy sip, Brendan closed his eyes. He let memories flow over him like McKay's words. The day he found those items sprang up clear and true. "The contents of the box were the orb, a tablet computer, an amulet of some sort, two calculator-looking things, and something that looked like a wand."
"Huh," Rodney said, staring at the dark liquid. "You remember that?"
Smiling, Brendan set the mug aside. "I remember a lot of things."
"Do you, now?" Pulling out his laptop, Rodney began tapping away. "That room we found Cantano in. There was a whiteboard to her left. What was the last line?"
Brendan sent his brows upward. "I really don't think –" His eyes lost focus as he saw the last line on the board. Grabbing the laptop, he began typing.
ΔE=\frac12μω2A2Δx=\frac12μω2A2Δt
"Huh. Delta t? Really? I could've sworn – never mind." Crossing his arms, Rodney studied the equation for energy transmitted by a harmonic wave. "Mnemonic or eidetic?"
Brendan shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"No." Rodney turned his contemplative gaze to his companion. "You know, I ran circles around all those intelligence agencies. You were the only one who caught up to me. How?"
"You had a pattern. Don't ask me how I got to that conclusion, but that's what I saw. A random sequence or something. I can't explain it, McKay." Shaking his head, Brendan took a deep breath, then smiled. "It was like music."
oOoOoOo
Hours after he left the NSA agent, McKay felt a little worried and distracted. All he wanted was his best friend back, alive and well. He wandered into the mess hall, hoping to ground himself. Ordinarily, Rodney would seek solace in his work or marking up a science journal. Snagging the last blue Jell-O, he found an empty table in the back.
"Hey, Doc." Major Lorne had appeared out of nowhere, taking a seat across from the scientist.
"I really wish you soldier types would stop sneaking up on unsuspecting people."
Lorne chuckled. "Sorry. Part of the job, Doc." Leaning closer, he glanced around surreptitiously. "Is there something I should know about Colonel Sheppard? I mean, he believed he was another person."
"What? No," McKay said quickly. "He's fine."
"You sure about that? He's doing paperwork."
"Paperwork?" Frowning at the last spoonful of his blue treat, McKay glanced up at the major. "Well, Carson did tell him to rest –"
"That's just it, McKay!" Lorne's hands flung out in frustration. "You know how he is after he gets out of the infirmary. The first thing he does is pester Doctor Weir about taking a 'jumper up. Or sparring, or at least running. But –"
"What's wrong with paperwork?"
Leaning back, Lorne crossed his arms. "He's filling it out correctly, legibly, and organizing it on his desk."
"Really?" Marching out of the mess, Lorne in tow, McKay went to John's office.
Minutes later, they found the man crouching in a corner of the office, his left hand caressing the wall.
Lorne reached up for his radio; he didn't like that faraway look in the colonel's eyes. "See? I'm calling –"
"No," Rodney said quietly. "I'll take him to his quarters."
"I dunno, Doc," the XO replied, crossing his arms. Finally shaking his head, Lorne acquiesced. "Fine. But I do not want to hear about how you broke the colonel this time."
McKay smiled with not a little relief. "Thank you, Major. I'll let you know if we need anything." Reaching down to Brendan, Rodney curled a hand around the other man's arm. "Um, time to go, Colonel."
Turning glassy eyes toward the voice, Brendan nearly wept at the disconnection. John Sheppard was a good man, and Rodney McKay was a good friend. And Brendan told him so.
"Yes, well, you'd be a better friend if you'd just pay attention to Carson."
"Okay," Brendan said, swaying drunkenly into his new friend. "Hey? Do you hear that?"
McKay and Lorne glanced at each other.
"Uh, sir? Maybe you better go with McKay."
The sound of humming began to build, causing a throbbing at the base of his skull. Brendan tried not to look alarmed as McKay steered him out of the office. He wondered if this was what Freya felt as a telepath; the very thought of her made him unaccountably sad.
Of recent, Freya was a better – probably the best – friend he had in a very long time. Even his parents were closer to him now than they had ever been.
I need to get home.
A shiver traveled his spine. "I guess you were right."
"What?" Rodney asked, dragging the taller man down the corridor. "Of course I'm right. You have a headache now, don't you?"
"Yeah. A doozy," Brendan answered. He had had migraines before, but nothing like this. "How do I make her stop?" As quickly as the headache consumed him, the pressure immediately stopped. Letting out a gasp, Brendan leaned into Rodney. "Hey! It stopped!"
McKay gave a nervous smile to Major Lorne. "Yes, yes. You learn something new every day."
"You sure you don't want me to call –"
"Fine. Have him meet us at Sheppard's quarters."
Brendan waved goodbye to the major. "The transporter is 12.33 meters north of our location, Doctor McKay."
"Well, then quit babbling and hurry up. This isn't very good for my back, you know."
"There are twenty doors along this corridor. But on the level with your private lab, there are only ten. Why doesn't Sheppard have any pictures of his family? Does he not get along with them? Did you know I can make my memories into pictures? I have a room for every category. Hey, what if –"
Rodney clamped a hand over Brendan's mouth. "Quiet!" he hissed.
"I knew it!" Lorne stepped inside the transporter. "You really are someone else. How did this happen?"
"Look, Major," the scientist frowned. "We're not entirely sure how it happened or how to reverse the situation. There – we'll talk about this later."
"Sure thing, Doc. I'll make sure no one bothers the col– Mister Dean until he feels better."
"Well, do what you can." Steering the unsteady man into a mildly busy corridor, Rodney pointed him in the general direction of John's quarters. He needed to get Sheppard back!
"Would it kill you to say 'thank you' every once in a while?" Brendan murmured. "Shoulda told Lorne first."
"Carson's going to check on you shortly, so play nice," Rodney admonished quietly.
"Why? I'm just tired. I'll take a nap and everything will be fine."
Laying a gentle hand on Brendan's arm, Rodney stopped them both in the middle of the corridor. "Look, I'm going to do my best to get you back. I know you're trying to deal with this on your own, and I – we - haven't been very… helpful. But I –"
Brendan raised a hand to stop the scientist. "I know Doctor McKay. I also know that maybe we should let someone else in on the fun."
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Elizabeth will be back in the morning, so we'll have a senior staff meeting."
Turning the corner, they spotted Carson pacing in front of the door. "There you two are. Did ya know the colonel does nae register on any sensor?"
Shrugging, Rodney shuffled into the room, depositing Brendan next to the bed. "Sheppard drops off the grid every time he doesn't want to be bothered."
"Really? That's so cool! How do I do that? And how come you always find me?" Brendan sat heavily, squinting up at the other men. "That's what you told me when I finally caught you."
"Well, it's true," Rodney murmured. "But I'm a little tired of being sent to fetch you – the colonel – every time he decides to disappear."
"Och! Quit yer blatherin', Rodney. The fact is that yer quicker at finding him, an' vice versa." Carson picked up Brendan's languid hand. "How are ya feeling, son?"
"I'm good, just tired."
Carson motioned for Brendan to lie down. "Well, your vitals are better, but you really need to rest." Eyeing Rodney slumped at the desk across the room. "The two of you are running on fumes, and I'm sure Mister Dean's problem won't solved in the next few hours. Eat, sleep, and take this up tomorrow."
Blinking against fatigue, Brendan nodded. "I agree. Rodney? You call Doctor Weir."
"Yes, I'll do that." Rising, he waved a hand at the two men and left.
"So, yer gonna finally meet with Elizabeth, are ya?" asked Carson, pulling a blanket over his patient. "That's a good idea."
"Yeah. I mean, I'm a government agent. If I were running a top secret facility, I'd want to know if my CMO wasn't himself. It's been too long; I should've spoken to her the day I arrived."
"Aye, fair point." Carson pocketed his stethoscope, and stepped back. "I'll let you rest then. Please dunna hesitate to call if you need anything."
"Thanks, Doc."
oOoOoOo
Brendan Dean's day began the way most of his mornings did, except the giant banged on his door around o'dark-thirty for a run. Declining, Brendan was suddenly awake and aware of Ronon intense glare. Then the man shrugged, and left the room. Ninety minutes later, he was lingering over his coffee while Rodney McKay bounced theories around. Ronon and Teyla chatted about the sparring roster, and her people.
Ten minutes before they were scheduled to meet, Brendan followed McKay through the busy corridor. Teyla and Ronon were behind him; it seemed they always watched the colonel's six. When they arrived in the control tower, Brendan had to stop himself from gaping.
"Is that the Stargate?" he whispered.
McKay smiled smugly. "Yeah. It is. Now watch this."
A mechanical noise sounded, and everyone became alert. Blue lights flashed and went still in a progression of symbols Brendan assumed were the addresses everyone talked about. A pool of water formed in the middle, shooting out, then immediately back, resting is a large puddle.
Brendan felt an elbow to his sore ribs. "Close your mouth," Rodney murmured. "You look ridiculous."
"Forgive me if I've never seen one in action, McKay."
A woman walked through, waving at the people above her. She climbed the stairs quickly with a happy smile on her face. "Good morning, Chuck."
The technician smiled back. "Morning, ma'am. Your messages have been forwarded to your computer and the SGC postponed their weekly check-in until tomorrow."
"Thank you." She turned her sharp gaze on the people standing outside her office. "You're a bit early, but let's get this over with."
"Well, actually, there's a time difference of about twenty minutes from M56-780. so technically you're late."
The woman chuckled, walking into her office. "Never change, Rodney."
"Elizabeth, we can return at a later time if you wish to settle in this morning." Teyla's face held its amusement as she regarded her companions.
"No, it's all right. I had the best night's sleep since I landed in this galaxy." Shifting around items on her desk, she gestured for everyone to sit. "Carson filled me in already, but I'd like to hear it from you." Elizabeth Weir leaned forward, studying the stranger in a familiar body. "So how did this happen?"
Squirming under her scrutiny, Brendan sat up straighter. "I'm not too sure, but I touched a glass orb thing and ended up here."
"Yes. My theory is the other piece of this puzzle is somewhere in an unexplored part of the city." Rodney pulled up a display on one of the screens in Elizabeth's office. "The database mentions something about that orb. I found it in a box in the other universe, but I haven't found anything like it here. The research pointed to an experiment, abandoned of course, but it seems it was completed just not tested."
"Not tested?"
"No. It seems whatever caused those Ancients to drop everything and leave affected every experiment, every project, and all research. They may have been killed at that time, or just plain ran."
Remembering his conversation with the scientist earlier, Brendan snapped his fingers. "Hey, McKay! You said that the more I use the ATA gene the more sensitive I'd be around it, right?"
Frowning, Rodney nodded. "Yes, but look where it got you. I'm not sure we should risk it."
"I'll have to agree with Rodney there," Carson chimed in. He had slipped into the office unseen. "For some reason, it's tiring Mister Dean out faster than it would John."
"But I could just fish for it in the area. You know, be a tuning fork or something."
"Maybe, maybe," Rodney replied, distracted.
"Perhaps we could set up a monitoring system. Brendan does seem highly sensitive to Ancient technology now." Staring at the agent like he would a med chart, Carson folded his arms.
"Well, of course he is," the scientist said, tapping on his tablet screen. "I'm sure Sheppard is highly sensitive, but we've never discussed it."
"You know, I'm right here guys."
"We will attend to Doctor McKay and," Teyla replied, looking troubled. "I am sorry. We do not know your name."
Giving his best smile, he reached over McKay. "Brendan Dean, ma'am. Nice to meet you."
Snorting, Ronon left the office; Teyla sighed in exasperation. "Please do not worry about him, Brendan. He is concerned for the colonel."
"Oh yeah. Totally." Glancing at McKay, Brendan thought about the orb. "You know, we might be going about this the wrong way."
"Wrong?" Looking up sharply from his screen, Rodney frowned. "You've been here all of two days, and you think we're wrong?"
Blinking, Brendan sat back in his chair. "I'm just saying, maybe the most obvious answer is staring us in the face."
"All right, Mister NSA Agent. What do you have?"
"Is there such a thing as a backward tuning fork? Maybe force the thing to find us."
"Interesting. Go on."
Looking between the two of them, Elizabeth smiled. It was almost like John was there, still bouncing ideas off Rodney. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Major Lorne's team should be checking in soon, and Teyla, I know you need a ride to M49-333. Sergeant Stackhouse will be escorting you in the 'jumper."
McKay looked at his companion apprehensively. Brendan grimaced and put up his hands. "Oh, no! I am not going near those things! I read about them in a couple mission reports."
"Really? I mean, I thought for sure you'd want to fly a ship with your mind."
"No thanks. It sounds dangerous."
Sputtering, Rodney's eyes widened. "I thought all you gun-toting spies like that kind of danger."
"I'll tell you what's dangerous –"
"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth couldn't hide the smile. "Why don't you discuss all the danger elsewhere. I have an expedition to run."
Smiling, Brendan stood. "Thank you, ma'am for seeing me."
"Mister Dean, it's been interesting meeting you. When the major gets back, you need to have a long talk. Rodney," she said nodding at the scientist. "Keep me apprised of your progress."
"Of course, Elizabeth."
Exiting the office, Brendan followed Rodney down the stairs. "You know, the colonel is very busy. Like all the time. Where does he find time for himself?"
Snorting, Rodney shook his head. "He's not always busy. When he's not needling me in my lab, he's off gallivanting around the city, or sparring with Ronon and/or Teyla. But he does try to keep everyone safe."
"Gallivanting?" Brendan raised a brow, then waved a dismissive hand. "Like I said. Busy."
Nodding, McKay stepped into the transporter. "Don't take this the wrong way, Agent Dean, but I kinda want John Sheppard back."
"None taken, Doctor McKay." Brendan rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm a little homesick myself."
oOoOoOo
TBC
Stay tuned!
