David

He thought he was prepared. Ever since John had run off to the Air Force and managed to get himself into real engagements and real danger, David Sheppard knew that a part of him was always half-expecting to hear that his brother had been injured or killed in action. John didn't do things half-way. He'd played solider as a kid, fighting and dying with plastic guns and hapless canine enemies, flying and crashing fighter jets made out of cardboard boxes.

The day John came to David's house after their father's funeral, David had realized that was now the one that would pick up the phone. John was still a soldier, still in danger. Nevertheless, when the call did come – at ten in the morning, at work, between an early conference call and a late morning meeting – he suddenly understood that expecting was very far from prepared.

"I'm very sorry to inform you, Mr. Sheppard that your brother, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, has been, um, killed in the line of duty," the voice on the line was saying while David felt the floor tilt away from him. His heart began to race, and his eyes burned, and his hands began to shake. He pressed the one not holding the receiver into his desk. In that horrible moment, he realized that what he'd really expected was more time: Time to reconcile. Time for them both to grow up, to truly bury the hatchet. To see each other's kids, or wives at least. Time for them to find wives and have kids.

"I see," David managed. "How...how did it happen? When will he...will he come home?" David trailed off. He didn't even have any idea what John's final wishes were.

"The details of the engagement are classified, but the rest is why we've contacted you. The circumstances of Colonel Sheppard's situation are unusual." The speaker, some General Landry, chuffed and David got the distinct impression that he was frustrated, even annoyed, by something.

"You see," the General went on, "Your brother is technically dead. His mission puts him in the presence of technology, however, that is currently preserving his body at the exact moment of physical death. Colonel Sheppard's medical power of attorney, Dr. Rodney McKay – not a medical doctor, by the way – is advocating for extreme intervention in the hope of resuscitating Colonel Sheppard. It is also he who has insisted you be informed, even though the Colonel's fate has yet to be...confirmed."

David blinked. "I don't understand."

"Your brother has been mortally wounded. Dr. McKay felt you would wish to be informed of your brother's tenuous circumstances. Even though this goes against protocol." The General added the last as an angry snap.

"Protocol?" David found himself unable to do more than repeat the General.

"Colonel Sheppard has requested that his family only be contacted upon the event of his death."

David felt a tickle of familiar annoyance underneath the numbness of the shock.

That same day last year, David had been feeling the burden of his new position as head of the family – as small as it was – and he'd welcomed John in, despite their argument at the funeral. He'd heard John's anguish over his broken relationship with their father and David had finally been able to admit their father's part in it. They'd made progress, a little, towards forming a relationship based on shared history, at least.

David had asked – reasonably, he'd thought - about how he should perform his duties in John's financial and legal life.

John had burst into laughter, which was better than swinging a fist, David supposed.

"Dave, I'm a freaking Colonel in the United States Air Force with 20 years already under my belt. I think I've got my financial situation under control." The sarcasm seemed excessive to Dave. "I told you, I don't want any of Dad's money. I never did. I just want..."

John had cut himself off, but Dave hadn't been thinking past his obligations.

"But what about contact information? What's the best way to reach you? What if you become ill or injured? Will the Air Force know how to contact me?"

John looked at him, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth and David got the impression that John was employing a patience only recently attained, but it was a patience David hadn't yet achieved. He only felt annoyed at John's circumvention. John's expression went paternal.

"I'm fine, Dave. You don't have to worry about me, or my finances, or my legal interests." He'd said the last with a smirk. "All that is taken care of by the Air Force. You're off the hook. I don't need a father or a lawyer. I'd just like you to be...my brother..." he'd finished softly, asking for something David wasn't ready to give him, then.

When David finally replied to the General, he heard a snap in his own voice. "John gave all authority for his medical care and his estate to the Air Force a long time ago. John's instructions make that quite clear. I'm family in genetics only. John obviously doesn't want or need my involvement. Didn't want?" he stumbled over the last, the mistake throwing him back into confused grief.

"That is my interpretation of Colonel Sheppard's wishes as well." The General sounded pleased, as if he'd just won a bet. "I apologize deeply for troubling you prematurely. You will be informed upon further developments, of course. Stay on the line and my assistant will give you the number of a case manager. Thank you for your time, Mr. Sheppard. The Air Force is very sorry for your loss. I mean, for the

sad circumstances."

The General clearly wanted to sign off and be done with him. David's heart was pounding, his eyes were stinging from old hurts and anger as much as fresh, hot grief. He wanted nothing more than to slam the phone down and throw himself into his work and pretend he'd never answered the phone. Instead, a strange surge of protectiveness flooded his chest.

"Wait! General, what are John's chances of successful resuscitation?" The General sighed, obviously disappointed the conversation was not over.

"We have no idea, exactly, but it ranges from not good to not at all."

"John is currently on some sort of...life support?"

"That's one way of thinking about it."

David was silent for a moment. "Is he in pain?" he asked softly, the only question that truly mattered in moments like this. The General's answer was reassuringly swift.

"No. The stasis device is completely non-invasive. Even were he to have entered fully conscious, he would be completely unaware of himself or his environment."

The words were a greater relief than David expected, and he was emboldened. "General, may I ask – Why, if John expressly forbid contacting me, why did you call? Forgive me for noticing, but it was obviously against your own preference."

The snap was back when the General answered, "As I mentioned before, Dr. McKay insisted."

"You couldn't just...refuse? If John's wishes stated –."

"That's just the problem."

"Excuse me?"

"Colonel Sheppard is technically dead, remember?" The General's voice was harsh and rough and sad and angry all at the same time and David's breath hitched with a surge of desolation. "McKay invoked the technicality, even while he is delaying the situation from being resolved in a futile, in my opinion, attempt to save the Colonel."

"Who is this Dr. McKay?"

"Dr. McKay is a colleague on the mission Colonel Sheppard is currently serving and a member of the Colonel's exploration team. I also feel confident in saying that they are friends. And that is why I believe Dr. McKay's judgment is clouded on the matter. He believes that he can develop a, um treatment, that would improve the Colonel's odds for revival, but has so far been unable to do this. Contacting you was a compromise of sorts. Dr. McKay agreed to give up his efforts if we agreed to contact you, first."

The more he heard, the more confused and angry David got.

"So, how exactly is this situation going to be resolved?" David ground out, using the General's words.

"Colonel Sheppard will be removed from the stasis pod. I plan to order the attempt be made immediately."

"And John will die," David whispered.

"He's already dead, Mr. Sheppard," Landry reminded, then went on, his voice suddenly soft and genuine. "Don't think me cruel, Mr. Sheppard. I've seen this – well, not this exactly – but I've seen false hope too many times in my long career. I believe in sparing no resources to support the living. But clinging to the dead is not good for anyone. Not for Dr. McKay. Not for you. Not even for Colonel- for John."

God, this was awful. David dropped his head into his hand, the receiver hanging loose. Landry's words were reasonable, genuine. Even sympathetic. But David kept returning to the baffling insistence of Dr. McKay that he be contacted – why would he do that? Because David was objective? Knowledgeable? Because McKay thought John would want him to suffer this agony of uncertainty?

Landry waited for a while until the silence grew uncomfortable.

"Mr. Sheppard?"

With sudden clarity, David straightened. "General Landry, I thank you for taking the time to answer my questions. Now, I must insist that you allow me to come see my brother."

"Come? Excuse me?" Landry sounded genuinely taken aback.

"Yes. Come there. Or go. To wherever John is. You have admitted to conflicting recommendations within your organization. Therefore, I cannot allow you to take any action of a decisive nature without my consent until I have fully examined the circumstances."

"That is quite impossible, Mr. Sheppard." The General was sounding angry again.

"And yet it IS possible for my brother to be both technically dead AND revivable? It is possible for you to both have technology at your disposal capable of somehow sustaining a mortally wounded man indefinitely but not have the technology to heal him?

"I warn you, General, I have lawyers and unlimited funds at my disposal to get to the bottom of this. John may have given the Air Force authority over his life, but I promise you, I can make your life miserable if you do not concede my authority in the settling of his death."

The silence on the other end was delightfully hostile.

"General?" David prompted at last.

"Colonel Sheppard serves at a Top Secret facility requiring the highest security clearance."

"I have moderate security clearance for my access to the US Power grid. Any further clearance required can be processed while I'm underway. Or shall I call my lawyer? I also have my Senator on speed dial." David could almost hear the cursing in the deafening silence. There was nothing a government agent of the armed forces feared more than a well-connected civilian.

"Can your unlimited funds get you to Peterson Air Force base by tomorrow evening?" came the snarl of an answer at last. David looked at his watch.

"I can do better than that. I will meet you there at 5:00 this evening."

"Very well."

David hung up the phone, and just sat for a long, long time. When the full force of the conversation hit him, he shivered and buried his face in his hands. What had he done? What had he gotten himself into?

Slowly, he forced himself to begin the large task of rearranging his life and chartering his jet for travel and for who knew what ahead. He'd only delayed the outcome, as the General was trying to tell him. But, he had to hear McKay out. Not because he felt objective, or knowledgeable. Not even really because he believed anything he did would save John – he might find that the best thing for John was to side with the General.

He'd done it because he was John's brother.