On lonely desert roads we march
This company of foxes
Our pieces once broken and arch
Now fit in tidy boxes
It took them two and half months in hyperspace to reach Pegasus. John had long since started going stir crazy. He'd converted one of the equipment nets into a pull-up bar and just generally distracted Rodney from trying to come up with a plan. Sheppard had been his usual stubborn self and refused to stay resting for more than a few days without getting up and being a nuisance.
He couldn't concentrate. At first it was because every time Sheppard flinched from twisting the wrong way, Rodney would start panicking he'd hurt himself again and then it was because John was treating the back of the 'jumper like his own personal home gym and Rodney would get caught up watching the way his muscles moved or the way his shirt stuck to his skin or sweat tricked in rivulets down his neck and Rodney just wanted to-
But the worst part was that they were stuck in a 'jumper of all places. They had enough issues with personal space as it was never mind adding all the crates of supplies, Schrodinger who was almost as claustrophobic as Rodney himself, Sheppard's inability to be anything less than perfect and two and a half months of trying to politely not notice when the other had to take care of 'personal business'. If there was a way to kill your romantic 'trapped-in-a-cave-in-lets-huddle-for-warmth' scenarios, it was that.
Finally, after months being confined to a small space with improper hygiene and nothing but MREs (Rodney wasn't complaining but Sheppard whined about it constantly and really Rodney was amazed Schrodinger wasn't dead with the way he turned his nose up at food), they dropped out of hyperspace on the edge of the Pegasus network. Just as Rodney thought, the journey killed the Naquadah generator and the MacGyvered hyperdrive was nothing but charred metal and molten wiring. Rodney doubted he'd ever be able to get it running again.
Sheppard took the controls and piloted them to the nearest Stargate. It was a small planet with the 'gate set in the middle of endless wheat fields, no forests or water for as far as the eye could see. They set down just a ways off from the 'gate and cloaked the 'jumper (not that it really mattered they were kind of creating a giant indent in the wheat but no, you go ahead and press your 'tactical advantage' on this uninhabited farm world).
Schrodinger loped off through the fields the second Sheppard opened the bulkhead and Rodney couldn't help but chuckle at how concerned he looked, scanning the golden fields for a ball of mad grey fur.
"I figured you as more of a dog person," Rodney teased.
"I'm just waiting to see if anything tries to eat him. He'd make a good early warning system," John lied. Rodney scoffed and wandered out into the field. It really was a beautiful sight, with wind sweeping across the ocean of grains, making honey coloured waves ripple out as far as the eye could see. It was a shame they couldn't live on just wheat.
They spent most of the afternoon cleaning out the detritus from their journey before John suggest they gather some of the wheat (was it wheat? It looked like wheat. Maybe it was poisonous in this galaxy) to grind in case they didn't have a chance to stop for food again. They filled two of the empty MRE boxes and some of the webbing from the equipment net with it. Rodney figured even if they didn't need to eat it, he had downloaded a copy of the Ancient 'gate address database so they could go to one of their trading partners for other supplies.
They stayed put for the night, just happy to have open space and solid ground beneath their feet. Against John's better judgement, he decloaked the 'jumper to conserve whatever power they had left after their journey (and so the cat could find his way back but he'd never tell Rodney that).
They sat together in companionable silence watching the three moons rise and the stars blink to life. John was transfixed by the middle moon. The smallest of the three, it was still much larger than any moon he had seen on Earth and it blazed a brilliant orange between blue and green. The craters on its surface were a deep rust brown and its light played on the wheat like candle fire off of gold. It felt like some painting of the renaissance with a beautiful bejewelled woman sitting daintily in a parlour surrounded by lanterns.
It was one of John's favourite things about the Pegasus galaxy: how it never stopped amazing him. In amongst all the dangers of the Wraith and the painful reality of losing his men, there had always been these quiet moments, like drinking tea with the Athosians and sharing a glass of wine with Elizabeth as they looked out on their new home, when he felt more at peace with himself than he ever had back on Earth with the constant reminders of his father's disappointment and the shadows of his broken marriage.
Here, all there was was the beauty of a new planet and the warmth of Rodney laying beside him on the opened bulkhead.
A gentle snore drifted up and John had to stifle a laugh. McKay had fallen asleep flat on his back with his hands folded neatly on his stomach, just the way he had been when he complained about how badly laying out there was going to make his back hurt.
John just took a moment to watch him. He was more relaxed here than he had ever seen him. Even sharing a tent in the Athosian camp, his shoulders were rigid and his brow tight with tension. Here, the traces of exhaustion still clung to his face but his features were slack with only the slightest upturn at the corner of his lips. All of his muscles seemed to melt into the floor contentedly. His fingers twitched occasionally, unable to be entirely still even asleep, but he just looked so at peace.
John loved this, watching Rodney be happy. It was so rare and precious to see him so unguarded that it felt almost like a gift to watch him be like this. He reached out slowly, hand moving to cup his cheek.
A strangled squawk had him snapping away, eyes roaming across the horizon. About twenty feet away, the wheat was jerking violently like a small whirlpool in an otherwise calm sea.
Rodney was still deeply asleep next to him so John stood and moved his hand to his sidearm, wearing it a habit he was happy to not have broken. He walked slowly toward to patch, drawing the gun and carefully taking aim. He took the last step forward into the now almost flattened area and-
-almost collapsed in relief to see Schrodinger in the middle of the mess being tossed around by some turkey-like bird. He finally managed to get his feet on the ground and twisted, snapping the bird's neck. It dropped bonelessly, Schrodinger's teeth still around its neck and John watched in impressed silence as the small cat carried the bird, almost twice its size, through the field back in the direction of the 'jumper.
From further into the field came a quiet gobbling sound and John's mouth watered at the thought of actual fresh fire-roasted meat. He followed the noise quietly, gun in hand, until he saw the flash of iridescent feathers under the strange glowing moons. He pulled his gun up and fired once, twice. The bird dropped and John grinned, ignoring the scuffling of the rest of the flock retreating into the field. He picked up his kill, noting in satisfaction that one bullet had hit its head and the other low at the base of the neck. They would be easy to dig out if they were even still inside it.
"Sheppard!" Rodney yelled, voice tight and panicked. John turned and ran back to the 'jumper where McKay was standing in the doorway with his gun drawn in shaking hands and eyes wide.
"What happened?" John asked, eyes jumping from McKay to scan their surroundings and back again.
"I heard shots!" Rodney said, voice high and slightly hysterical. "You were gone and I heard shots and I-"
"Yeah, I found dinner," Sheppard explained, holding up the dead fowl. "So did Schrodinger." The cat had found a nice little hiding place under the bulkhead hatch and was now noisily defeathering his prize.
"That was— Dinner? God, Sheppard, I thought there were Wraith! I thought you were in trouble! I thought you were dead! I thought—"
"Wow, hey, calm down." John quickly took the gun before Rodney started in on the crazed gesturing. "There's no Wraith just… weird, glowing space turkeys."
Rodney took a few deep breaths before leaning heavily on the 'jumper and grumbling, "well, sure, I know that now."
John watched quietly as the tension leaked out of Rodney's body leaving him looking strung out and exhausted and he suddenly realised what this must be like for him.
Despite the last year, Rodney was never an officer, never supposed to be deployed in the field. He was a scientist, he worked in labs with numbers and computers. Even when they were out exploring the galaxy, he was mainly tech support. When they came across a dangerous situation, his job was to hide and let the rest of them cover him.
And yet here he was, in another galaxy with no way to get back home, danger possibly lurking around every corner and only an injured fugitive and his cat as back up. And he was still here, worrying about John, trying to keep him safe and it was just amazing to him that he had this, someone so willing to watch out for John that they threw their lives away, broke him out of prison and they were still trying to do more. It was more than he thought he deserved and so much more than any human had a right to get and John suddenly just needed to tell Rodney this, to make him understand how grateful he was and how could he possibly give him so much and- Oh. Oh.
Understanding crashed down on John like a tonne of bricks because he knew this feeling, had felt it once before when he first started dating Nancy and he knew the expression that was on his face, could see it mirrored on Rodney's and it was like the world hadn't made sense until that moment.
John rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Rodney, tried to physically stop him from shaking apart.
"How did I miss this?" John breathed in awe.
"Miss what?" Rodney asked, tentatively settling his arms around Sheppard.
"That you- and I- and we could have-" John really wished that he wasn't so bad with emotions because this, this was important, maybe more important than anything he'd ever done. Because this was Rodney, this was a man who had abandoned his entire life to be here, who was running with him. This was Rodney who couldn't become a fugitive without his cat and who built a hyperdrive out of spare parts and who flew to a different galaxy just to keep John safe. This was everything.
And he wished he was better with words but as it was, he just grabbed the front of Rodney's shirt and hauled him in, lips pressing down with all the gratitude and disbelief and sheer astounded adoration that John felt welling in his chest.
Rodney froze as he tried to process the intensity of the contact but just long enough for John to start leaning back. Before their lips were more than a centimetre apart, Rodney surged forward, pouring his own emotions into the mix, letting everything he'd been feeling for months now spill into John so that he'd understand.
It should have been odd to cross that line but it wasn't. They had been together since the moment John sat in the chair in Antarctica and it had always felt like seeing an old friend again, bantering and arguing and generally invading each other's space. Maybe they had always been headed here. John had never been a believer in fate but if everything that had happened in his life had led him right here, standing on an alien planet with three moons glowing like neon lights and Rodney's hand wandering absently under the hem of his shirt, he figured he must have done something right in his past lives.
John shivered pleasantly when Rodney's fingers grazed the new pink scar sitting just above his hip, the nerves still electrically close to the surface. Rodney moved his mouth to press gentle kisses against John's cheek.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly, thumb teasing lightly over the puckered flesh. John's eyes flicked over Rodney's face, seeing the sadness in it, and he cupped his jaw, tilting his head to deepen the kiss briefly before he pulled back and looked at him, eyes serious and full of promises.
"Not anymore." And Rodney smiled and took John's hand, tugging him back toward the small pile of blankets that they'd been sharing since their escape, the bird forgotten on the hatch. Schrodinger didn't pay any attention to the noises coming from inside, too happy to sneak off with the extra fowl clamped in his jaws and as far as he was concerned, all was right with the world.
John couldn't help but agree.