Dean was going crazy, and paranoid, and hearing things and he had nothing to keep his attention. So for the first hour or so he before they all got settled, he was frozen. Because really, he was floating in a tin can in the middle of space. Sure, he couldn't feel the mid way station move, but if this can got attacked they'd be done for, for sure. At least in a plane crash he had a slight chance of survival, but in this heap? One hole in the wall and they'd be sucked into space and be dead before anyone could fathom why there was a hole in the wall in the first place.
He had, had his share of captures and being help prisoner on a Goa'uld ship. But he had had the distraction of being tortured and questioned, staying alive, finding an escape plan than executing said escape plan. But here he had nothing. So he tried to distract himself by mingling.
He joined group of fellow marines who happened to be conversing about their destination Atlantis. And he was happy for the distraction, because he was way better with cities floating on water than tin cans floating in space. Until, that is, the discussion of their new CO arose. Dean only knew the basics about this sister agency - floating city of the ancestors, ass kicking technology, ect. - he knew nothing of the personnel. Because to Dean, what's worse than writing really agonizingly long report was reading someone else's agonizingly long report.
So he knew he was hearing things when Casper said: "Yeah, I hear Colonel Sheppard is an awesome CO."
He heard that wrong, right? Casper said Colonel Sherrard not Colonel Sheppard. Because he couldn't handle having the same CO with the name of John, he just couldn't. He was numb when he got up and walked like a zombie to his temporary quarters. He lay slowly and very stiffly on his small mattress, plugging in his ear bud, he cranked up some AC/DC. His brain tried to convince him that he really did hear Colonel Sherrard), but his heart was telling him that what he first heard was the truth, Colonel Sheppard.
He clutched he extra set of dog tags from around his neck tightly; John's dog tags to be more precise. Ever since that day, he's had them hanging against his own. He some how found it comforting to hear them clink together, to know that even after everything, some part of them were still together.
Was this why dad didn't want him to come, because he knew what pain it would cause Dean to work under a CO with the same name. And if that was true, maybe he should have listened even if that meant using his dad's connections like a little snob. But no, he was a Winchester by blood, And a O'Neill by heart, and that meant that he prided himself in his edge of never giving up. And so he was going to stay, and he was going to go about this normal because it was Colonel Sherrard and he was going to avoid him at all costs and he was going to have a face to face conversation with the man. Because if he said that name and it was of someone else's face, he had no idea how he would react.
Dean Winchester-O'Neill was actually very sensitive. You wouldn't know it on first glance or even years after knowing him. You wouldn't think by his tough exterior or hardened eyes. His sarcastic comments in serious situations, the No Chick Flick Moments. But by God he was so broken under that tough exterior. He would allow gushy stuff to happen with his father in private, because his dad was the same as him. And for both of them, in their line of work, to get emotional was deadly.
Dean has a fear; he was afraid that it had finally come true. Every body leaving him, all alone by himself. First Samuel and Deanna Campbell (his grandparents, mothers side), Mary Winchester (his mother), John and Sammy Winchester (blood father and baby brother), even Uncle Bobby Singer. Died, leaving him alone; until Jack O'Neill with two L's came and took him in. They were two of a kind, all of their families leaving them alone. Than Jack made friends when he went on that Top Secret mission of his and than Dean had met John Sheppard. They were all one big happy family again, as weird as it was; but it had worked. But every thing almost fell apart when John had gone on that stupid mission to Iraq and got his fighter plane bombed; incinerating his body, yet leaving a pair of bloody tags.
What if the CO of Atlantis was-
"We're heading out, Winchester." Casper informed him, jerking Dean his major mind wander. Dean nodded, his body feeling weak to the core, but he gathered his things anyway and fallowed the other Sergeant to the gate room. Once again he was at the back of the crowed, the last one through the gate to a place where he knew his heart was going to go crazy with emotions. Out of know where there was this humming presence in the back of his mind that mutely reassured him. Dean hadn't had time to think on this or wonder what the hell it was before the gate closed behind him.
When he came out on the other side of the gate and stepped into Atlantis, he had no time to take a good look around. Dean had expected the others to have gotten in formation, but instead they were in a scattered group being herded down the hall by a man with brown hair and a black BDU's. Dean was about to trail at them when a figure in the middle of the floor drew his attention. Dean looked around the room, The main gate floor was almost empty, but for a woman and a man conversing far enough from the man on the floor so he wouldn't hear them.
Dean looked back at the man on the floor. He was folded in on himself, clutching a piece of paper to his chest, while others were scattered around him. He had unruly black hair that was defiantly not air force, and it sparked something in Dean's heart as the Hum was back in his head started up again; urging him towards this familiar man.
His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he dropped his bags onto the floor and slid on his knee's after them. He crawled towards the man, blocking out everything else. As Dean drew closer more features became available to him: There was the black hair, lanky body, long fingers, and a dark chin of stubble. Dean's hands shook as he reached towards the man.
John started when hands cupped his face, he wanted to pull away but these hands. He remembered this hands, there were Dean's hands. But how- right. Dean was coming here, and the last thing he remembered before he zoned out was the date being dialed from the mid-way station. Oh. My. God! Dean!
Dean sucked in a sharp breath as he looked into those wide hazel green eyes, It was him! It was Johnny! But John's dead, Right? Right? Dean gave his head a shake, the why's and huh's didn't matter right now. What mattered was that the man he had thought dead for years was right there and Dean was in the same place. Dean threw himself at John, the force knocking them back as Dean wrapped his around John, burying his face in his neck.
John in turn hugged Dean close; he didn't care that they were in the middle of the gate room. He didn't care that he could get sent away. He wouldn't even care if the Wraith attacked Atlantis, as long as he could hold Dean like this forever. He closed his eyes and his nose drifted to Dean's hair and he inhaled. Gun powder, sweat, light mint scented after shave; yep, that was Dean. John could totally stay like this forever-
A cleared throat interrupted his inner-logue, and he could feel every muscle of Dean tense.
Dean could feel angry course through out him; who did they think they were? Interrupting such a moment; interrupting such a chick flick moment that Dean would let go on forever. John gave him a reassuring squeeze but didn't let; Dean didn't relax and neither did he. He looked up at Weir and said in a monotone, "Elizabeth,"
Her arms were crossed and she had an eyebrow raised, "John," she said in the same tone as him, "Can I see you and . . ." She paused, picking up the piece of paper that John had been holding from the ground and looked it over. She gave John a long look before she continued, "Sergeant Winchester-O'Neill in my office." she gave John a very pointed look.