John didn't get much sleep that night after visiting Atlantis. As dawn broke over the horizon and stretched its pale blue and purple fingers eastward and towards Cheyenne, he was still sitting on the edge of his bed, contemplating the hands he had resting open and palm up on his knees.
He'd been carrying around so much in those hands, and for so long that John was actually surprised to find them empty now. He inspected them closely, half expecting to find little pieces of the past stuck in the tiny crevices and indentations of his palms. But there was nothing, just a roadmap of lines crisscrossing and zigzagging across his skin. The highways and byways of his life.
John had never put much stock in the mystical, but he wondered what a palm reader might make of his hands. What they could glean from the shallow trenches carved into the flesh of his palms. Would they see hints of the life he'd lead, the mistakes he made? Did his lifeline suddenly split and fork off in another direction the exact moment the IOA had betrayed him and John sent Atlantis plummeting into the San Francisco Bay?
Now everything John had been carrying around in those hands was nearly gone. The past was slowly draining from them like water escaping cupped palms. It dripped from the spaces between his fingers.
The things John let slip from those cupped hands were meant to be let go. Sean Fitzpatrick had shown him that. Rodney and Carson, too. Though the process had reopened a few old wounds.
Breaking up the scar tissue around those old wounds was another matter entirely. It was thick and stubborn and what little bits had been carved out already made John feel hollow. He'd been living with it all for the past 18 years and now people were expecting him to just keep tearing himself apart over and over again. Torn wide for all to see. Exposed and open so they could all poke around inside with their blunt instruments. And he was tired of it.
John glanced over at the small alarm clock Rodney had given yesterday after they got back from Atlantis and the scientist had seen he didn't have one. There were other things he still needed, like a secure laptop and a new cell phone, but he could inquire after those later today.
Technically, John still had a day left before he would be allowed to start training again, but he was eager to dive back into things. He had a feeling Fitzpatrick was not about to start going easy on him. The former SEAL would push him even harder now that he finally got John to open up and actually talk about his past. He was ready for the physical aspect of all that. Days of inactivity had left him feeling restless. Add that to the fact that he'd been an emotional wreck for most of those sedentary days and John Sheppard was about ready to start climbing the walls. His body craved physical exertion. If he didn't at least get some kind of workout in today, he really was going to go mad.
The emotional stuff… well John would just have to take that one day at a time. People seemed to be expecting him to just snap out of it. Rodney and Carson especially. They kept giving him these expectant looks as if they were waiting for the old John Sheppard to suddenly just show up one day. Well, John had put that old version of himself into the ground long ago. He was never coming back, not fully, and the sooner his friends got that through their heads, the better.
Didn't they see? Didn't they all understand? John had been living in a cabin in rural Wisconsin for the past 18 years. It was going to take him some time.
At least Fitzpatrick had a psychology degree and knew what the hell he was doing. As far as John was concerned, that former SEAL was the only one qualified to go poking around in his brain.
John flexed the hands he still had lying open on his knees and felt the familiar tingle of his ATA gene. He recalled how his connection to Ancient tech always left them feeling this way after a long day of work. It felt a bit like his fingers were on the verge of falling asleep. This sensation was a bit different, and John wondered if there was perhaps an Ancient device somewhere nearby. That wouldn't surprise him. They probably had all sorts of gizmos over in the science labs. Rodney probably even had something in his quarters.
And speaking of Rodney, John added his old friend's name to his list of things to do for the day.
An early morning meeting had been set for first thing in the morning to go over what was happening with the ATA gene carriers and the investigation into the sabotage. John's plan was to sit Rodney down alone right after and finally have a serious conversation with the man about a few things. John had questions and he was going to pin Rodney down and make that man talk about it, whether he wanted to or not.
The red numbers on John's new alarm clock switched over to 5:30am. Realizing there would be no sleep for him tonight, John pulled himself up off the bed and stretched. Even though his ribs gave a warning throb of pain, John knew he would be headed to the gym. He had strict orders not to, and would likely pay for it later, but he just had to get out of his room for a while and stretch his legs.
During his trip over to the base gym, John quickly discovered that his novelty had yet to wear off. Every soldier he passed reacted to his presence, their whispers following him down the hall. He doubted any of them knew anything about what had happened with Fitz in the training room, or on Atlantis yesterday, but that wouldn't stop people's tongues from wagging. They could see his face and the cuts and bruises still visible there. Mercifully, there was no one up on the track when he arrived there a few minutes later. He knew his solitude wouldn't last long, so John warmed up quickly, eager to get underway.
Even though he knew his ribs were going to give him trouble, John stuffed the earbuds of his iPod into his ears and set off. He set a very slow pace, especially when his knee began to throb almost instantly. Pain forked across his ribcage like lightning on every breath, but John just forced himself to keep going.
It felt good to take his aggressions out on the track and to let the pain course through his body and drive everything else out for a moment. It was just the blood in his veins and the air in his lungs until the pain became his baseline and his thoughts kicked in again.
Being on Atlantis had taxed John in ways he'd forgotten about. There was so much more to it than just stepping foot onto her docks and taking a tour of the hallways he'd once called home. There was the pull of the Ancient machines around him to contest with. Devices that constantly reached out for him and demanded not only his energy, but John's conscious thought as well. He knew it was only a matter of time before he got used to those demands again, but it was as if Atlantis was expecting him to be the same man he was before, just like his friends. She was unrelenting in her insistence that he connect with everything around him, and at all times. The whole effect had him feeling drained, and yet elated all at the same time because, as taxing as all those sensations were, he had finally been reunited with his city. In the end, that's all that really mattered. He would take all of it, the good, the bad and the ugly, if it meant he got to fly that ship home again and live out the rest of his days on Atlantis where he belonged.
Well shit , John thought to himself. Was that resignation he was feeling? The beginnings of forgiveness and acceptance, perhaps? Who knew it would take a trip to the San Francisco Bay to finally get him to the point where he could possibly entertain those ideas.
Landry and the SGC were giving him purpose again and John was only ever at his best when he had a purpose. It was in those meandering, stagnant times when he really got himself into trouble, and wasn't that just what he had been doing for the past 18 years? Meandering? Running? What the IOA had done failed in its mission to end his existence, but John had been the one to let it end his life.
Realizing his knee was about to buckle beneath him if he did another lap, John made himself stop at the staircase heading down to the lower levels and cool down. His body was a world of hurt and he knew for a fact that he'd pushed himself too far. But John would take the pain. It meant that he was still very much alive.
John knew he was ready for anything Fitzpatrick or Atlantis could throw at him. He was whole and healthy, at least in body. The rest would come later, because he knew that the task of healing those hurts Carson could never bring up on a scanner was possible now. He could do this.
John made his way down to the showers feeling lighter than he had in a week. He was reminded again of how much space there was inside of him now that he wasn't so busy carrying around the weight of heavy memories. Those responsible for ordering him to end two billion lives were gone now, other people knew what had been done and were not ostracizing him for it. They were welcoming him back with open arms. John still had a lot of guilt for the lives lost when he dropped off the grid, but even that was beginning to break apart a little. Especially under the relentless insistence of Carson Beckett who kept reminding John that it wasn't his fault. Maybe that was the secret to it then? Keep pounding it into his brain until he finally accepted it. Fitzpatrick seemed to be the expert at that, so maybe that was next in the weird program they'd start to get John back up to the task of leading an entire expedition.
"Good morning, General Sheppard," a cheery young lieutenant greeted him as he made his way back to his bunk and he gave the passing soldier a small smile and a nod.
Damn... General Sheppard. Now that was something else he was going to have to get used to. John still marveled at the fact that the SGC was offering him so much. He knew they were desperate, that the main reason they were doing any of this was because he could fly Atlantis home, but it was still nice to know he was needed. In Blue River he'd done everything in his power not to be needed so this felt like both a blessing and a curse. People would be looking to him again to make the right decisions, and half the people watching were probably expecting him to fail. Whatever. John was determined, now more than ever, to prove every last one of those bastards wrong.
John entered the conference room for the morning meeting a little while later in a pretty damn good mood, all things considering. He chose a seat near Landry, who was the only other person in the room so far. The general was rifling through some papers and looked up at John over the thick glasses perched on the end of his nose.
"Good morning," he said with none of the cheer of the woman from the hallway earlier and John could see why. Landry had an autopsy report open in front of him. He flipped it shut, but not before John had seen the photos.
"How's everything going so far?" Landry asked before John could inquire about the report.
It was a loaded question and John paused to think about his answer for a moment. He only had a guess as to the level of Landry's involvement in what had happened between him and Fitzpatrick the other day in the training room, or again on Atlantis just yesterday. He didn't want to give the man cause to go poking around any further than he already had. There were enough people around John who already knew about what he had gone through.
Judging by the way Landry was looking at him right now said it all, though. He knew everything.
"Manageable, Sir," John answered. Landry's eyes lit up in that amused way John couldn't decide was interesting, or irritating as hell.
"And how did you find Atlantis?" Landry asked over the rims of his glasses. "Was your trip helpful?"
"Yeah, I would say so. We walked around a bit, rustled up a few old ghosts. You know, the usual."
"I can't imagine that must have been easy, visiting the city after all this time."
John shrugged. "I enjoyed myself well enough, Sir."
"You can dispense with the pleasantries, Sheppard," Landry said with a wave of his hand. "Landry is fine. As I'm sure you'll soon discover, I don't stand on formality much around here. In fact, I hear some of the new recruits have started calling me Hankie. Clever really, though I have it on good authority Dr. McKay may have given them the idea." Landry smiled as he said it and John got the feeling he was genuinely amused by the entire thing.
As if he had been summoned, Rodney appeared in the doorway a moment later.
"Sorry I'm late..." he started to apologize. When he realized that John and Landry were the only two in the room he paused. "I am late, aren't I?"
Rodney glanced down at his watch and then lifted it to his ear. It must have stopped because the scientist started shaking his arm in earnest a beat later. Rodney dumped his things onto the table and sat down with an irritated sigh.
"I can't believe I actually managed to beat you for once," John ribbed him from across the table. Rodney scowled back at him.
"I suspect Colonel Lorne and Dr. Beckett will arrive momentarily," Landry said. "And I've asked Sean Fitzpatrick to sit in as well. I hope you don't mind, Sheppard."
"Fine by me," John said, realizing that he actually meant it. He was in a good mood and that kid was actually kind of starting to grow on him. Just a little though. There was something about shared trauma that just brought people closer together. Since John was partly responsible for Fitz losing his entire family, he figured the least he could do was tolerate the guy's presence.
"Were you able to get any sleep last night?" Rodney asked John over the table a moment later. Landry had gone back to ignoring them and perusing his paperwork. "Because I sure didn't. I couldn't get that propulsion system leak out of my head. Do you think if we had the engineers come at it..."
"Rodney," John interrupted him, putting up a hand, "Way too early for the geek speak, buddy. Ask me again after I have a few more cups of coffee in me."
"Sure, Sheppard. And then you can explain to the IOA how we blew Atlantis out of the sky right after take off," Rodney snapped back.
Landry looked up at them over his glasses. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing to worry about, General," John said. "Dr. McKay here was just explaining to me how it's never too early for thermodynamics."
Landry shook his head and went back to his report. John winked at Rodney and the scientist threw him a scathing look. If Rodney had an insult to lob back, he didn't get a chance to voice it because a moment later, Lorne and Carson arrived, Fitzpatrick following soon after.
As everyone settled into their respective chairs, a clear hierarchy became evident at the table. Landry held the high place of honor at the head of the table with Rodney at his left and Lorne, Carson, and then finally Fitzpatrick finishing out the line. John found himself seated alone on the other side of the table. For a moment he felt like some junior partner sitting before the board of directors about to pitch his ideas on a new direction the company should take. He knew it wasn't anything intentional, but it was funny to see how the men in the room saw each other.
"Well, I guess I'll call this meeting to order," Landry spoke and everyone turned their heads in his direction.
"General Sheppard, I'm sure you must have questions about what's been going on. Are there any pressing ones you'd like us to address first?"
"I think you should just take me through it from the beginning," John replied after a moment of thought. "That way maybe I can give you a fresh perspective on things."
"Perfectly acceptable," Landry agreed. "Colonel Lorne, why don't you take General Sheppard through what we know so far."
"Of course, Sir," Lorne said before turning to John. "Stop me if you have any questions, okay?" John nodded.
"Alright, since you haven't started your seminars on the new USSF, I'll just kind of start from the beginning.
"When the government finally pieced itself back together after The Great Culling, they wanted to get some of the more top-secret programs back up and running. Since the Wraith were alien, their first priority had been the Stargate so we could reestablish our alliances in the Milky Way and beef up our defenses.
"Atlantis was out of commission while she was being repaired after the crash. The USSF and the new members of the reformed IOA wanted us to start looking for people on Earth who might have a strong ATA gene so that, should we not be able to locate you, we could still fly her back to Pegasus if the program progressed that far. We found a few people who were really promising. They had nowhere near the control that you had, but we had hoped that, given a little guidance, they might be up to the task.
"We were working out of a facility near the Bay when the first accident happened about a year ago. A woman McKay had located in the Ukraine had just been brought on, but a few days after we set her up with an apartment in the city, her car was run off the road on her way home one night. She died in the hospital a few days later. At first we didn't think anything of it, people have accidents all the time, right? But then it happened a second time to another carrier and that one wasn't so pretty." John didn't miss the collective shudder that ran through the group.
"When our saboteur couldn't get the job done by running our guy off the road, he put a bullet in his head. Anders was a good guy with a family, we were all pretty shaken up after that one." Rodney and Carson nodded their agreement.
"After that, it was pretty clear someone was targeting our gene carriers so we had the rest of them stay on base. But even that didn't help. Whoever it was managed to get into the facility and poison every last one of them. We set up a task force right after to investigate and try to get to the bottom of what was happening, but whoever was murdering the gene carriers knew how to cover their tracks. They didn't leave us anything to go on. No witnesses, no evidence, nothing. As much as I hate to admit it, we still have nothing, even 6 months later. So, to protect the people we found next, we kept the knowledge that they even existed from everyone except for a select few, headquartered them in New York in the middle of USSF headquarters and things have been quiet ever since."
"But they're on Atlantis now?" John asked, remembering the workers he'd seen yesterday in the Gateroom.
"Yes," Landry answered.
"We have the use of Cheyenne mountain again so they'll be living here and flown over to Atlantis whenever they're needed. But now that we have you back, they'll continue their work with the Ancient technology and helping get the city ready to fly. We will of course continue to give them the utmost level of protection." Lorne finished on a promise that John suspected was aimed at him as well. He was, after all, the one with the target on his back.
"Do you think it's an inside job?"
What had happened with the Wraith was like something out of a horror story and John could understand how someone within the SGC might have snapped and decided to take it upon themselves to stop the project dead in its tracks. The Atlantis Expedition was the reason the Wraith found Earth in the first place. Hell, even he'd thought about revenge over the years, though cold-blooded murder wasn't really his style. Puppet to murder... well, now that was a different story.
"Most likely, or at least they had help from someone inside," Rodney answered this time. "Otherwise how would they know who to target? The public knows that aliens came to Earth and took a quarter of the population, but the existence of the Stargate and Atlantis has never exactly been common knowledge. I mean, half the people thought that announcement the IOA made was a hoax. But if we are dealing with a civilian, I feel like we would have heard chatter about a pending attack. I mean, don't people usually riot first and then sabotage later? My guess is that our saboteur is someone close to the project and most likely with ties to Atlantis."
"Dr. McKay brings up a good point," Landry agreed. "Colonel Lorne, has the task force completed the background checks on the new recruits and those still involved with the SGC?"
Lorne pulled a sheet of paper from a folio he'd brought with him. "We've run checks on everyone working in the city and most of the officers in the mountain, but we still have a lot of work to do."
"Then I suggest you make that the task force's main objective going forward, now that things appear to have settled down. I believe you have also begun implementing your proposed security improvements on Atlantis?"
Lorne nodded. "We've beefed up security, installed the extra surveillance cameras, and are planning out the checkpoint system. Should be all up and running by the time General Sheppard is ready to take us back to Pegasus."
Four pairs of eyes landed on him and he tried not to shift under the gazes. "I'll get right on that," John replied as they all started to chuckle. "Have you thought about setting a trap for this person? Maybe use someone as bait to lure them out somehow?"
"It's something we could certainly consider," Lorne said, rubbing at his chin. "Though I doubt the IOA would go along with it considering you're the only one we've got who can fly Atlantis at the moment."
It was funny how his soon-to-be 2IC knew instinctively John had been talking about himself when he'd suggested bait.
"We could try finding a USSF member who'd be willing to take on the risk," Rodney suggested next.
"How about my buddy Fitzpatrick? He can handle himself in a fight," John offered.
Everyone at the table hid a smile while Rodney full-on sniggered. Fitzpatrick just shook his head with a smirk. John imagined he would be made to pay for that little comment tomorrow in the training rooms.
"That actually might be an avenue worth pursuing should any further sabotage be attempted," Landry said, bringing them back to task. "But for now I believe the task force should focus its attention on the internal investigation."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Dr. Beckett," Landry continued, "have you come to a decision on whether or not you will be continuing your ATA gene research? I think General Sheppard will share in my eagerness for you to continue that line of work. Especially if it means having another person available who can pilot Atlantis."
John could tell Carson had been caught off guard, but the physician swallowed hard and answered anyway. "I have not decided just yet, Sir. But rest assured, I will have my answer for you shortly."
"I'll hold you to that," Landry replied before addressing them all again. "Well then gentlemen, if there is no more new business, I have a video conference with the IOA scheduled in about 10 minutes and will need the room."
Landry peered at John over the tops of his glasses again, waiting for confirmation that he had no further questions. John toyed with the idea of bringing up the visitor to Blue River Carrie had mentioned the other day, but until he talked to Eddie, he didn't want to make a big deal of it. Especially if it had just been some dickhead from the SGC poking around for some insight into the last 18 years of his life. He was about to take on an entire expedition to another galaxy. It could be that the SGC was just vetting him.
John indicated to the general that he was good and Landry seemed satisfied.
John rose from his seat with everyone else and shook Landry's hand before heading out. His mind was churning over all of the new info he'd learned, which wasn't much. The person who murdered the gene carriers was laying low for the time being, but that didn't mean they weren't still lurking around, and John had an awfully big target on his back now.
Everyone at the SGC knew he was the only one with the capabilities to fly Atlantis home and he would have to be very careful over the next few weeks to keep his guard up. He did take some comfort in the knowledge that he was in a secure facility and there was a task force in place to vet all the incoming new recruits and returning personnel. At least he had other lines of defense in place besides his own two hands and the friends that surrounded him.
"See you tomorrow in the training facility, Sheppard?" Fitzpatrick asked, appearing at his side and nearly startling him.
"Oh. Yeah. What time?"
"0600? I mean, if that's not too early for you," Fitz said, almost as a dare.
"0600 it is," John agreed before heading off after the retreating figure of Rodney McKay.
"Hey, Rodney!" he called out, and the scientist turned to wait for him to catch up.
"What? Did I forget something?"
"No," John replied. "I was just wondering if you had a minute to talk. There are a few things I wanted to discuss with you."
"Oh," Rodney said as he started walking again. "You mean, about the murders?"
"No... other stuff," John hinted and Rodney narrowed his eyes.
"How about we do that some other time? I'm right in the middle of some equations for the new wormhole drive and..."
"Oh come on, buddy," John interrupted. "I'm only asking for a few minutes. And besides, you owe me."
"Do I now?" Rodney replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Just give me 10 minutes."
Rodney glanced down at his watch, apparently forgetting that it was no longer working. "Alright, fine. But you have to come down to the labs with me. Some of us still have work to do."
John fell into step beside his friend as they made their way towards the science wing located in a different part of the mountain.
"This is actually going to work out pretty great," Rodney said sometime later. "I think there's someone here today you're going to want to see."
"Who?" John asked, instantly intrigued.
"You're just going to have to wait and see."
John followed Rodney the rest of the way through the SGC, all the while wondering who it could possibly be and if he was ready for any more surprises. He had a feeling he was going to get plenty of those in the conversation he planned to have with Rodney. Now the scientist was promising even more revelation. John was amazed his brain hadn't crashed already with all the crap people kept throwing at him. And it was likely only going to get worse.
John stepped into the research division of the SGC a few minutes later expecting some of that "worse" his brain kept warning him about and found none. In fact, the person John saw in front of him was enough to send half the apprehension he still had hanging around him flying out the window.
"Oh my god! I thought you were dead!" John exclaimed as he entered the lab and a very elderly-looking Radek Zelenka slid off a stool and grabbed a cane to hobble over. The scientist's hairline had receded considerably and the goatee he sported was salt and peppered, but his eyes were still as sharp as John remembered them. He shook the man's hand with what could only be described as gusto.
"Well, as you can see, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Zelenka replied, squeezing John's hand a little harder.
"I can see that," John said with a huge grin.
"I'm so sorry we're only now able to say hello! I was in Europe tracking down more potential people with the Ancient gene but of course, had I known you thought me dead, I would have come and found you sooner!"
"How are you even alive?" John stammered with a mix of awe and disbelief that nearly set Zelenka to laughing at him.
For 18 years he had been carrying Radek's name around with him, right there with all the other names of the dead he'd committed to memory. Lifting it out to cast it away was like lifting a stone out of the bags tied around his ankles before he walked out into the water, but it was a start.
"Well, after the explosion, I was found very quickly," Zelenka explained. "All of us were. I lost my leg at the knee, but other than that, no permanent damage."
"When I saw you all fall… I thought, I mean I was sure you..."
"You were mistaken, my old friend," Zelenka assured him with a hand on his shoulder. "We all made it out. And besides, I could never die. Someone needs to stick around and help keep Rodney in check."
"Hey!" Rodney protested. "I'm right here!"
"I'm sorry to hear about the leg," John said, ignoring the scientist.
Zelenka waved a hand at him. "Don't you go worrying about that, Colonel... Oh, pardon me, General Sheppard. I just learned of your promotion. May I offer you my Congratulations?"
"Thank you," John replied, slightly embarrassed. But his promotion was not what they were there to talk about. "So what have you been up to all these years?"
"Working with the SGC, mostly," Zelenka explained. "A lot of people left after what happened but we were doing good work here. I couldn't just abandon all that."
"Sure, if by good work you mean never getting to publish anything and being labeled a washout by your peers," Rodney muttered under his breath, but Zelenka and John continued to ignore him.
"I must admit, General Sheppard, I am very relieved knowing that you will be joining us," Radek said genuinely.
"Sounds like you guys have quite the problem on your hands with the gene carriers."
Radek nodded his head sadly. "It's unfortunate we have lost so many people these past few months. I would have thought our little expedition had already paid enough."
John nodded. "I know what you mean."
Rodney threw up his hands. "Look, as fun as all this reminiscing is, do you two old farts think you could wrap this little reunion of yours up already? I need to clear the lab. Sheppard wants to talk ." John didn't miss Rodney's irritated emphasis on the last word.
"Of course, Rodney," Zelenka agreed, but not before rolling his eyes when McKay turned away. He shook hands with John again. "Let's talk again soon."
"I'd like that."
When the room was finally cleared and Zelenka had shut the door behind him, John looked over at Rodney. The scientist had pulled himself up onto a high stool in front of a laptop and was typing away furiously with his back to John.
John had so many questions for his old friend, and not all of them were going to be easy if Rodney's reaction back at the gas station was any indication. John let out a breath and then walked over to where Rodney was sitting. The scientist kept his back to John and didn't acknowledge him.
"You told me the other day that you may or may not have kids," John began. "How about we start there?"
The clack of McKay's fingertips against the computer keys stilled. "Not pulling any punches today, are we?"
"Come on McKay," John pushed. "I've spent days pouring my heart out to everyone on base. The least you could do is…"
"Not to me, you haven't," Rodney interrupted, slamming down the top of his laptop.
John was a little taken aback. "Well, maybe not to you directly, but you still know more about my life after the war than I do about yours."
"So?" Rodney countered sharply. "Just because they expect you to talk about your feelings doesn't mean I have to tell you every little detail about my life."
John shook his head, bewildered. "Where is all this coming from, Rodney? I just asked you a simple question. Do you have kids or not?"
"Well, maybe the answer to that question is a little more complicated than you realize!" Rodney fired back, anger coloring his cheeks.
"Then tell me about it so I can understand."
Rodney averted his eyes and started picking at something stuck to the table top. "You're just going to hate me for it."
John blinked back in shock. This was not at all how he'd been expecting this conversation to go.
"Whatever it is," he began, lowering his voice, "nothing you could ever say to me would ever make me hate you."
"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew," Rodney muttered, refusing to look up. It was the same exact conversation John had had with Carrie back in the cabin. Only this time, their roles were reversed.
"You once destroyed an entire galaxy and I still found it in my heart to forgive you," John reminded his friend. "You can tell me anything."
Rodney chuckled softly at that and then drew in a deep breath. It looked as though he might actually cave.
"Remember when I told you there were people from Pegasus who were still trying to get home?" he began.
"I do…"
"Well one of them is Torren John," Rodney said.
John felt his eyes go wide. "You mean… Teyla's kid?"
"The one and only," the scientist replied.
"But… how is that even possible?"
"He was still on Atlantis when we went after the Wraith."
"And he's ok?" John asked. "I didn't hurt him in the crash or anything?"
"Of course you didn't hurt him," Rodney admonished. "He's perfectly fine and has been living with me for the past 18 years."
"You?" John asked, eyebrows raised. He could tell immediately that Rodney had taken his tone the wrong way. The scientist's face fell.
"See! I knew you were going to react that way," Rodney muttered. "Everyone does. How in the world could Rodney McKay ever be a father?"
"That's not how I meant it all, Rodney. You just surprised me, is all." John pulled up another stool to take a seat beside Rodney. This was going to take a while.
"Explain it to me. I want to know everything."
Rodney swiveled a little on his own stool and rested an elbow on the worn Formica countertop.
"It's relatively simple, actually. After the crash, I found out that Torren was still on Atlantis. Kaanan wasn't, so I took him in."
"Wow," John stammered. The thought of Teyla's son being on Earth this entire time was mind-blowing. But it still didn't explain… "Why on Earth would you think I could ever hate you for giving that kid a home?"
Rodney looked away again. "Well, because I'm not the one she wanted…"
"Who? What are you talking about, McKay?"
"Teyla! If anything happened to her or Kanaan, she wanted you to take Torren," Rodney let out in a rush.
"Me?" John sputtered in disbelief, rolling the idea of being a father around in his head, poking at it like some kind of unidentifiable dead animal on the side of the road. It was preposterous. Uncle John, sure, but dad ?
"She was wrong, McKay," John stated firmly, shaking his head. Rodney looked over at him like he hardly believed it. "You gave that kid a better life than I ever could. And even if I had been around, I would have said the exact same thing."
"Yeah right," Rodney replied bitterly.
"I'm serious, McKay. You did everything right." Rodney's face softened a bit as if he were finally starting to believe. "I still can't believe this," John went on. "You've got to tell me all about him. What's he like?"
"Well, he's smart," Rodney started, perking up a little. "I mean, Teyla was no Einstein, but I think I rubbed off on the kid at least a little in that regard. And he's strong, too; got his mother's instincts. He looks a lot like Teyla but there's some of his dad in him as well. You'd like him Sheppard, he reminds me of you sometimes. He's stubborn, and cocky, and gets on my nerves..."
"So what, he's about 19 now?" John asked, ignoring the dig.
The scientist nodded. "Just turned 19 about a month ago, actually. And he's almost finished with ROTC."
"For real?" John asked with a smile, excited by the idea of Teyla's son joining the USSF.
"The only thing is…" Rodney said, hesitating for a moment.
"What?"
"Well, I kind of need you to keep the fact that he's Teyla's son to yourself. At least for the time being."
John was stunned again. "Of course I'll do whatever you want McKay, but are you gonna tell me why?"
Rodney looked uncomfortable. "The IOA may not be aware that Torren John is still on Earth."
"Now this I gotta hear," John said, sitting forward on his stool.
"You don't know what it was like around here back then," Rodney said. "The world was falling apart and I wasn't sure who was going to be in charge and they were already trying to say that Teyla and Ronon and the rest of the Athosians were hostile aliens..."
"What did you do, Rodney?"
The scientist ducked his head sheepishly. "I may or may not have fudged a few official reports to make him appear legally mine."
"And how does your ex-wife fit into all of this?" John asked, recalling Rodney's mention of the woman that day in the car.
"Her name was Diane," Rodney explained. "I didn't want to screw up the kid's life or my career if things went sideways, so we made it look like Torren was Diane's son. We got married and I officially adopted him. We divorced soon after."
"Right after? You guys didn't try to give it a go?" John asked, suddenly filled with the images of him and Rodney raising Teyla's son together. If only he'd stuck around after the war…
"No," Rodney answered. "It was a marriage of convenience and nothing more." John could relate to that.
"Wow," he said a moment later. "Rodney McKay raised a kid. Who would have thought?"
"I still say it should have been you," Rodney replied, dropping his gaze again.
John snorted. "Seriously, McKay, could you ever see me as a father?"
"Yeah, Sheppard," his friend answered sadly. "I could."