Faustian Hopscotch
Chapter 2
A Violent Interlude
Sam rested his elbows on the railing and leaned over, letting his gaze wash over the city. He took in a deep breath of the sweet ocean air and let it out in a quick puff, blowing his bangs out of his face, and continued to survey the scene.
Atlantis rose in a mass of jagged and twisted spires, still elegant despite the cacophony of shapes and heights. Between the spires and off the one side the Lantian Sea glinted under the afternoon sun. On a windy day, if Sam closed his eyes and listened, he could even hear the waves as they slapped into the piers.
But today was soft and still, the slight breeze swirling through the city like a lazy ghost content to occasionally run its fingers through Sam's hair. A lone cloud trudged across the sky, taking long and lazy breaks for every inch of progress it made. Laughter bubbled up from the bowels of the city, possibly a balcony below, and Sam let a soft sad smile drift across his face.
A part of Sam loved Atlantis. How could he not? The city was a constant presence in his mind, checking in on his welfare. When she wasn't doing that she was taking care of Dean in a way that Sam had once thought his brother would never allow. It would be impossible to resent that, especially with how Dean seemed to glow as he bragged about how the city loved him best. Sam pretended to be cross but he wasn't actually jealous. Dean may have had Atlantis but Sam had Dean.
Yet despite all of that a part of Sam just couldn't seem to let go of how alien Atlantis was. There were no birds swirling in the sky, no seagulls swooping down to pick at trash or barnacles. The sun didn't rise in the east and set in the west. There was no moon in the sky of alien stars. The ocean wasn't even full of salt water. The landscape was strange, as strange as the world that Sam had been born into that had aliens and wormholes instead of demons and mojo. And like being this world Sam wasn't in Atlantis because he wanted to be, but because he had to be.
He knew he was being stupid. Considering everything that had happened, ending up on Atlantis with Dean was getting off light, even with Sam almost ending up as snack food.
Still, there was that little part of Sam that was undeniably Winchester and resented that this wasn't his choice, that he and Dean had been forced to run away yet again. Sam felt powerless. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he had for a long time. It was part of the reason he had turned to Ruby, that he had turned to the blood and the power. It was the same reason he had ran to Stanford. He had needed to have some control over his life, some voice in where he was going and how he was going to get there. He had needed to be in-charge of his own destiny.
And hadn't that just failed spectacularly?
Sam sighed. It had failed and a lot of other people had paid for Sam's mistake. Gabriel had been right, back when he'd told Sam that he needed to let go. He had been wrong when he'd applied it to Dean, but he'd still been a bit right. Sam wasn't in control. He never had been, and pretending otherwise got the people around him killed. Sam needed to accept that some choices had been made for him. Atlantis was one of them. Instead of resenting how he got here he needed to relax and just enjoy being here. There were worse places.
Sam flashed the sky a rueful grin. He knew he was brooding and that Dean would kick his ass if he saw him, but Dean wasn't there.
In fact, Sam frowned as he watched the lazy cloud claim another inch, this was the first time that Sam had been left on his own since Jack O'Neill had come bearing juice all those months ago. When Dean hadn't been hovering there had always been someone else, even if they had been a nameless grunt whose only interactional value was to scowl at Sam, to fill the void.
Atlantis, though it was hard to judge at this point, was looking to be just more of the same. Dean had been sticking to Sam like gum on the bottom of his shoe, although Sam couldn't really resent that. With just how close a call John's little jaunt into insect biology had been if Dean hadn't taken to hovering over Sam he probably would have taken to hovering over Dean. Yet the few times that the Winchester boys were separated Sam had found himself with an unlikely shadow in the form of Ronon.
Sam had thought that when the revelation of his current 'gift' had sent the Runner from the room that that was the end of that. He'd counted on Ronon being practical enough to come back for the plans for Dean's Water Gun from Hell (the name was all Dean's idea, obviously) and then keep his distance. Finding out that someone could see the future tended to freak people out. Hell, it still freaked Sam out.
Instead of pushing him away, confirmation of Sam's abilities seemed to have bound the Runner even further to the Winchesters. Though Dean had been holding his hand, it had been Ronon's face that Sam had first seen waking up in the infirmary. Ronon had continued to come in every day despite how obviously frustrated he was by the passive environment of the infirmary. He often spoke to Colonel Sheppard when he could divert the man's attention from Dr. McKay, but he always made time to come and speak with the Winchesters.
After Sam's release Ronon acted as a guide, explaining some of the ways other soldiers entertained themselves. More often than not the Runner was disdainful, which delighted Dean to no end. Sam would just shake his head as he listened as the two ranted about the idiotic and redundant nature of golf before heading to the shooting range.
It made Sam smile.
Ronon… fit. It was strange how the alien slid seamlessly into the lives of the Winchesters, like a puzzle piece they hadn't known was missing. Even Bobby had never quite filled the hole that Ronon seemed to. The older hunter, while like a second father, had always seemed to not quite get it. Bobby had learned to hunt. Sam and Dean had been raised on it.
A knock on the door pulled Sam out of his musings. He sighed, talking one good look over the city before the knock came again, sharp and urgent. Sam pushed himself away from the railing and opened the door.
Outside was a vaguely familiar, harried looking man, wearing the green that marked him as a technician. He had thick brown hair that was tinged with blonde and grey highlights. His eyes, matching in color, were too large for his pale face, giving the man a doe-eyed appearance. The soft and guileless eyes gave the man an ageless appearance, making it difficult to tell if he was seventeen or thirty-seven.
The lost worried look he was sporting only made it worse.
As did the way the man's eyes widened when he spotted Sam. "Sam Winchester?" he asked softly, as though if he spoke the name too loudly Sam would deny it or turn into someone else.
Sam nodded. "Can I help you?"
Instead of looking relieved the man tensed. "You're needed in the gym."
Sam blinked. "The gym?" He'd been expecting the man to be a gofer for the one of the science departments.
The man nodded before biting his lip. He pulled the soft skin, stretching it as it slid out from under his teeth before continuing. "Major Lorne requested your presence. He said that you needed to come down before his marines break your brother."
Or before his brother broke Lorne's marines
Sam reached out to the city, worried. Dean had taken great pains to avoid any public displays of his fighting prowess, wanting the advantage of being underestimated if something went wrong. If Dean was being violent then his meeting with Colonel Sheppard went worse than Sam could imagine.
The city tugged back, flooding Sam with her relief, worry, and sheepish embarrassment. He could feel her pull at his connection, urging him to go where he was needed.
Sam sent a rush of assurance before turning back to the technician. He gave the man a grim nod, knowing that whatever state he found Dean in was not going to pretty. Something had gotten to him and Sam intended to find out what.
Still, he hoped that Dean would have his fill of punching people in the face before Sam found him.
x-x—x-x
The Winchester men, and by men Dean meant himself and John Winchester, had long ago learned that the three standard fallbacks for dealing unwanted emotions were sex, booze, and violence. Somewhere, someone had failed Sammy horribly and had convinced the kid that talking and hugs were effective for dealing with grief.
Which was bullshit. Dean shook his head as he marched down the hall, his heavy, military issue boots echoing down the empty hall. Dean had no intention of ever talking about what he had seen. He had no intention of thinking about what he had seen. He had no intention of processing the fact that he had walked in on John Sheppard and Rodney McKay about to get it on.
Oh God. He was thinking about it.
Dean could feel his gorge rising in his throat. He swallowed it back, leaning against the wall and rubbing at his temples as though he could dislodge the thoughts out of his head so he could figure out a solution.
Sex was out. Part of the problems with living in a city which double as an island was the isolated population. Loving and leaving wasn't something Dean could do because the whole leaving part was no longer an option. While Dean had every intention of accumulating a series of casual partners the fact remained that that took time that Dean didn't have. He needed to forget now, not a week from now.
Besides, his penis felt like it was trying to crawl back up inside him.
Booze was always a great standby but also a little more difficult to come by than Dean was used to. Sheppard, Dean tasted bile at the thought of the name, had moved his secret stash to somewhere where it was secret again.
But Dean wouldn't be Dean if allowed something like that to stop him. While Sammy had been off flicking switches for the geeks Dean had pounding the pavement and mingling with the locals. Most of the soldiers still had a rampant dislike for him but there were a few that Dean had been able to put his feet up with. Stackhouse seemed to genuinely enjoy Dean's company and took the time to introduce Dean to his buddies. Major Lorne had been in charge of making sure Sheppard was properly guarded. Seeing as how the colonel decided that the Winchester buffet sounded delicious his plans had been a bit in the 'needs work' department. Lorne seemed to seek Dean out because of a misplaced sense of guilt, as if he had simply allowed Sheppard to knock all the guards out cold. It was ridiculous, of course, but Dean was never one to turn away an advantage.
Firmly entrenched in the city's gossip network Dean had learned quite a bit, including that the crazy Czech dude who had bitched him out on his first day here had built a freaking still in one of the back rooms, which was why, for first and hopefully last time, Dean was heading to the science labs.
He didn't actually have a plan for getting the doc to share his hooch, but he was hoping that the sheer potential his presence had for chaos would be enough. He was also banking on the fact that Atlantis would spend the next hour at least not doing anything for him unless he very specifically asked. The city had managed to pick up on the fact that Dean was pissed and for once had figured out that the way to fix that was to back off, not to turn on every light in a twenty-foot radius.
But the good doctor didn't need to know that.
Dean pushed himself away from the wall, buoyed by the prospect of the burn of alcohol to cleanse his pain. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his uniform, whistling tunelessly as he strolled down the hall, the tension easing out of him now that he had a goal. He could feel the city watching him on the very edge of his consciousness and he cheerfully ignored her as he stepped into a transport.
He was, in fact, so busy being content to ignore her that he ran smack into the back of a soldier waiting outside the transporter.
"Whoa. Sorry man!" Dean lifted his hands in apology, looking down at the man he'd bumped into. His tentative good mood evaporated at the sight.
Staff Sergeant Tracey Warner glared up at Dean, his blue eyes narrowed with hatred. "Winchester," he growled.
"Oh hey, Alabama," Dean greeted with false enthusiasm, his eyes flashing as he remembered the bruise the man had left on Sam's wrist their first day here.
Warner snorted but didn't bother correcting Dean. Instead the man made an exaggerated show of looking around. "Where's your faggot brother? You pounded his pretty ass too hard into the mattress?"
Dean's smile because frosty as his eyes iced over. When Dean spoke his voice was calm and steady, like the barrel of a gun in the hands of a professional. "Listen asshole, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once. I'm having an incredibly bad day and I don't have time for insignificant piece of shit like you. Now," Dean flashed his grin that made the ladies swoon, "fuck off."
Warner gaped like a fish that had been kicked in the nuts. He took a jagged step towards Dean, invading Dean's space as he came to stand his nose in an effort to be intimidating. "You arrogant little prick!" the man snarled, throwing the furious words and spittle and Winchester as he looked up to glare in Dean's eyes. "You certainly talk big but everyone here knows that a little pus sack like you is here is only good for spreading your legs. You ought to learn how to talk to your superiors before someone puts you in your place."
Dean rolled his eyes. It was like prison all over again, but with different uniforms. "Yeah, whatever twinkle toes. I told you I don't have time for you today, so toddle off." Dean sidestepped the irate soldier, determined to make his way to the labs. He had alcohol to find and a dick in a camo condom wasn't going to stop him.
"Y'all won't be so tough when your brother is sipping soup through a straw."
Dean froze at the comment. He turned slowly on his heels to stare at the soldier, who was smiling with malicious glee.
"That's right," Warner purred. "I heard you sobbed like a baby when wittle Sammy was in the infirmary. If you don't learn your place we got plans to get him a frequent flyer card."
Dean dragged in a breath through his nose. The dude was bluffing, of course. First of all there was no way he'd risk his career to mess with Sam like that. Secondly, Sam was a tough little fucker. Year, Dean could still kick his ass, but Dean could do a lot of shit other people couldn't do. Sam could take care of himself. Thirdly, Dean had pulled Ronon aside and asked him to keep an eye on Sammy cause the kid had a target for weird tattooed to his ass, no matter what lifetime it was. So Sam was perfectly safe. There was no way that Warner and his inbred friends would be able to wait for Sam in one of the many empty hallways, jumping the kid and taking him by surprising in greater numbers so the group could beat him while they had the upper hand.
Okay. Fuck alcohol. Violence had just become the coping mechanism of choice.
Dean slowly turned on his heel, his smile gluing itself in place. "You want a piece of me?" He lifted his arms to the side and used his fingers to indicate his body. "Then come here and take a slice."
Warner's smile slid into the territory of smug. "To the gym. When I kick your ass I want everyone to see what a pathetic little pissant you really are."
Dean lifted his lips, showing his teeth. "Fine by me."
x-x-x-x
John strolled down the hallway, his hands resting deceptively easy in his pockets with his sleepy smile providing a blanket for the panic that was screeching in his veins. He needed to find Winchester before the kid opened his yak.
If he didn't…
John fisted his hands deeper into his pockets. If he didn't he'd end up back on Earth with a new shiny discharge and every officer who had known that Sheppard couldn't cut it, every one he'd shocked when he'd been promoted to lieutenant colonel, would clap their hands with glee and congratulate themselves for having known he'd fuck up. Maybe he could get a job flying commercial if he were lucky, but even then, once you've flown a puddle jumper there is really no going back.
God, he had been so fucking careful. He'd spent years flitting through women like sex would suddenly go out of style just so everyone would know what a goddamn lady's man John Sheppard was. He'd learned all the right things to say, all the right moves to make, and had made it so if anyone had known that the first time John had sex with a girl, back when they were both just seventeen and drunk beyond all sense, that the only reason he'd managed to come was because he'd spent the entire time thinking about her older brother they'd laugh themselves hoarse at their friend's good joke.
John turned down the hall. It was empty.
John had been careful, keeping his encounters with other men few and far between. It had been rough, but necessary. John needed to fly the way other people needed to breathe and he hadn't been willing to toss that away for a good tumble.
Until now.
It was McKay's fault: the stupid, brilliant, asshole McKay. The man was like a case of Necrotizing Fasciitis. You couldn't seem to get rid of the bastard and despite how much he burned he managed to grow on you.
And if John were tossed out he'd leave McKay behind on Atlantis, surrounded by Wraith.
It was unacceptable.
But this hallway was also empty and John couldn't seem to find Dean. The city of Atlantis was huge and the Winchesters had already developed a reputation for being their own little island. Sure, Ronon spent a ridiculous amount of time with them but if Dean didn't want to be found asking Ronon for answers would be like trying to teach a stone to play fetch.
John was so fucked.
His radio clicked in his ear and John could feel a tension headache begin to build. "Sheppard here."
"Sir," Lorne's voice came over clear enough that John could hear something that boderlined wonder in it. "You need to see this."
John sighed. "Where?" Christ, he needed a clone or something.
"I'm in the gym."
x—x—x—x
Ronon had been going through PT maneuvers with Lorne and a handful of civilians when Dean Winchester walked through the door.
Ronon had actually blinked at the sight. He had been trying to get Winchester to spar with him ever since Carson had thrown the man out of the infirmary, Marie waving coyly from behind the Scottish doctor's back. Dean had deflected, making jokes but never really agreeing. Ronon had been tempted to drag him to the gym just for that but Sam had pulled Ronon over to the side, explaining that he and Dean needed to quit standing out. Ronon had backed off, instead taking another piece of the puzzle that was the Winchesters to mull over.
Ronon cocked his head as he watched Dean launch into a series of controlled stretches while the marine played on the radio. He didn't need to hear what was being said to know what was going on. Sure enough several marines trickled into the gym, circling the walls as they watched Dean warm up. Dean continued to limber himself, acting as though he was unaware of the enemies trickling in.
Lorne moved up beside Ronon. "Do we have a problem?" He eyed the growing crowd with trepidation.
"Maybe." A few more marines added to the crowd.
Ronon stalked across the room. Dean lifted from his bend, rising with a smile. "Hey big guy. What brings you here?"
Ronon glanced over the swelling crowd of marines. "Could ask you the same question," he grunted.
Dean pulled an arm across his chest, using his other to apply pressure. He tossed a careless look behind him before offering Ronon a lazy shrug. "Just a friendly little match." There was nothing friendly about Dean's tone of voice.
"Huh." Ronon turned, striding back to Lorne. "We have a problem."
Lorne frowned at the excited marines. He'd known that Dean wasn't popular but this was a bit ridiculous. The kid had spent most of his time on base in the infirmary. How the hell had he managed to piss off everyone?
"Solutions?"
"Get Sam."
Lorne sighed. "Alright people," he gave a cheery wave to the civilians. "That was some great work. I'll see you guys tomorrow." The civilians melted with relief that their PT had been cut short and began to gather their things. "Chuck," Lorne called. The gate technician set down his water bottle to give Lorne a doe-eyed stare. "Can you come here a minute?"
"Yes sir?" The man asked tentatively.
"I need you to go get Sam for me and tell him if he doesn't get his ass to the gym my marines are going to eat his brother alive." Ronon grinned a little at that.
"Yes sir!" Chuck nodded vigorously before disappearing through the door.
Ronon glanced over at the gathering crowd. "You should call Beckett."
"Nah," Lorne frowned. "The marines know better. They won't hurt him too badly."
Ronon grunted. It wouldn't be Dean needing the doctor.
Another man walked through the door and Ronon eyes narrowed at the figure of Captain Eliot Rousseau. The American soldier spotted the Runner and tossed him a grin and a sloppy salute before moving to join the circle around the mat. Dean's opponent grinned as he recognized the captain and took his place on the mat.
"Come on, Winchester," he called in his deep southern accent. "We don't have all day for you to freshen up."
Dean ignored the taunt and finished his stretch in his own time. He stepped onto the mat and slid into the same type of fighting stance that the actors used in all the movies Sheppard showed Dean.
Everyone laughed.
"Okay boy," Alabama smiled snidely, "being new and all you get the first hit."
Dean gave a dopey grin. "Okay."
Then he moved.
All that was heard was the sound of Alabama hitting the mat. The marines took a collective breath as shock permeated the room as a civilian dropped one of their own in three seconds flat. Dean stood over and looked down on Alabama wearing a smile that Wraith could have been envious of.
Lorne tapped his radio. "Sir. You need to see this."
Ronon tuned Lorne out and continued to watch the scene a head of him unfold.
Dean gave a small roll of his shoulders. "I'm sorry. Was the first hit supposed to be lighter? I'm not military so I'm not positive how this whole thing works." The viscous sparkle in his eye undercut the naiveté of his statement.
Alabama glared and made his way back to his feet. "You're gonna regret that."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Can you be any more clichéd?" As Alabama began to circle Dean fell back into a fighting pose, but instead of comical posturing this stance was assured and well practiced. This stance was the reason Ronon had wanted to spar against Dean.
Alabama continued to circle Dean and the marines pressed a bit closer. Dean stayed loose and nonchalant, watching his opponent with an amusement that radiated the disdain Dean was feeling.
This time Alabama moved in first, swinging high. Dean swept the punch away with his arm and stepped to the side, forcing Alabama off balance. Dean dropped low into a sweeping kick, once again sending the marine sprawling across the mat. An excited buzz rippled through the crowd as people clued in to how this was going to go down. Lieutenant Laura Cadman's voice cut clearly through the general din.
"Ten bucks on Winchester!"
On the mat Alabama turned crimson and his jaw clenched with anger. He stood up and rolled his own shoulders. He took a stance silently this time and Ronon could see that the man had finally clued in that this wasn't going to be as easy as he expected.
Dean's grin became sincere. He'd been waiting for this.
x—x-x—x
Sam stepped into the gym and didn't know whether he should laugh or pound his head against the nearest wall until his skull cracked. Leave it to Dean to get into a bar brawl in a place that didn't even have a bar. Sam loved his brother but there were times when he seriously doubted that Dean was the older of the pair.
Dean stood in the center of a circle of cheering and hissing marines. Staff Sergeant Tracey Warner was eyeing Dean up like he was innocuous looking plant that had managed to give the man a rash, though judging by the look in Dean's eyes if Warner walked out of here with a rash the man would be getting off lucky. Hell, if the man walked out of here he'd be getting off lucky.
Sam ran a hand through his hair before edging his way along the crowd until he came to stand at Ronon's elbow. Surprisingly enough Dean didn't spot him, which just went to show how focused Dean was on tearing Warner down.
Warner swung, landing two good punches on Dean's ribs before he hit the mat with a particularly vicious crack. Dean stood above him and rolled his neck the way he did when he woke up from a particularly satisfying nap.
Sam didn't like Warner. The man was loud, abrasive, arrogant, vicious, and violent. If Ronon hadn't taken to following Sam when Dean wasn't Sam was fairly certain he would have come to blows with marine a long time ago.
That taken into consideration, Sam also hoped that the man would back off. He didn't know what he'd said, or what had happened with Sheppard, to get Dean on the mat but he knew his brother well enough to know that Dean would probably feel guilty later if things went too far.
Sam felt a thin bolt of relief shoot through him when Warner rose to his feet and lifted his hands in the standard 'I give' motion. He was still angry, but the man had to have some redeemable features or he never would have survived out here that long. Apparently knowing when to quit had served this guy well. Sam felt his shoulders ease, knowing that the fight was over.
"Awe, come on, Alabama. I thought we were here because the ruler on your nightstand was making you hyperaware of just how dickless you are. Now you're gonna run? That ain't gonna add that extra inch you are so desperately looking for."
Or not.
The crowd shuddered as it inhaled a breath as one. Sam watched the faces carefully, looking for some clue as to what the hell had gotten into Dean. Seriously, Sam hadn't seen Dean these eager to nail something since, well, Hell, and there had to be somebody in this room who knew what was going on. There was no way Dean was this wound from Sheppard telling him he had to learn to fly a plane. No, this was something else.
The pinched look on Captain Rousseau's face just confirmed it.
Warner lowered his hands, looking murderous. "Fuck you, Winchester."
Dean gave a lazy grin that was at odd with the knives in his tone. "And here I was under the illusion you didn't like me that way."
Warner gave a demon worthy cry as he launched himself forward with a punch. Dean was faster than the marine, who was used to being encumbered by gear, but also having his opponents in the same boat. Dean was used to fighting things that could move faster than the eye could track and he sidestepped the blow easily, catching the wrist and twisting the arm up. He used the leverage to once again force Warner to the mat.
Dean dropped the arm before his actions slipped outside the realm of fair play and took a step back. "Dude, you seriously suck. If we're gonna keep this up you're gonna need a buddy to give you a hand."
Lorne went to move forward, aware that Elizabeth and Rodney would both nail his ass if he let a civilian commit suicide by marine, but Ronon placed a restraining hand on the man's shoulder.
"He's going to get himself killed," Lorne murmured, watching the scene with unease.
Ronon snorted. "Sam?"
Sam grinned. Of course Ronon had seen him come in. The man was awesome like that. "Dean'll be fine. Sore but nothing that he won't deserve. He can handle his own," Sam assured.
Lorne frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment the gym doors opened and Colonel Sheppard stepped into the room. The man spotted Lorne and his companions immediately and began to make his way over.
In the ring Warner had once again risen to his feet. "I'm just going easy on you because I'm sure the owner of the prick you sucked to get here would be sad if I sent his golden boy home in pieces."
The crowd's "Oooo!" made Sam feel like he was back in high school.
Dean snorted. "Bullshit. I'm not even sweating yet. Do you know what that means?" Dean began to stroll around the mat, his eyes never leaving Warner. "It means that kicking your ass to the floor isn't even an effort for me, Alabama. Now do yourself a favor and call in for some back up. Like Roussy." Dean turned, tossing a careless glance over at Rousseau and Sam knew that his brother had planned this, had planned on getting both the men into the ring.
Sam pinched the bridge of this nose in an effort to soothe an oncoming headache.
Dean continued his showmanship in the ring. He turned fully and hit the crowd with a megawatt smile that was too sweet for Dean's face. "Isn't that right, Rousseau? You and Alabama are buds. After all, you introduced us." Dean's face went cold and hard, in the way that it had only ever been after Sam had died, before it slipped right back into a friendly smile. "Why don't you come give him a hand?"
Rousseau stepped forward and shed his shirt, handing it off to the side as he stepped into the ring. "I'm game, Winchester, but if we get an extra man shouldn't you call one in as well?" He offered the pretext of a light grin of his own. "We could let wittle Sammy in on this lesson as well."
Dean's face went pale with rage and Sam picked up another clue that had led to this moment and for just a second it felt like nothing had changed. Sam and Dean were still hunting from the back of the Impala and Dean was taking on shifters and demons and really stupid humans with his bare fists because they'd mussed Sam's hair.
Sam couldn't help himself. He laughed.
All eyes in the room snapped to him and Sam watched as Dean's eyes widened marginally before they narrowed, daring Sam to interfere. Sam gave his brother a cheeky smile before addressing Rousseau.
"Dude, I'm the tallest person in this city." Only by the half inch he had on Ronon, but a half-inch was a half-inch.
Rousseau cocked his head in a dare. "You gonna come help big brother?"
"I'll fetch him a water bottle when he's done because that's all the help he's going to need," Sam responded dryly.
Dean and Sam's eyes met. Sam could read the glad you stayed out of it, bitch. His were conveying a go kill him, jerk. Dean's nod was a promise of victory. Dean stepped back in the ring, giving Rousseau time to stretch and Warner time to rest.
Behind Sam's elbow, John Sheppard spoke up. "I take it you two are having problems with the marines," John said conversationally.
"We're making all sorts of friends."
"Really." He could practically feel Sheppard's eyes burning holes in him. "And how long have you been making friends for?" Sam could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. In that moment Sheppard sounded just like Dean.
Sam said, "Awhile," and kept his gaze on his brother, who was, in turning, watching Rousseau warm up.
"Awhile," he echoed dryly. John crossed his arms.
Shit, the colonel thought. It was one of those days. It had been a while since Atlantis had had one of those days, which meant that John should have been prepared for it. Then again, if he had been able to prepare for it it wouldn't have been one of those days.
Like when there had been the storm. Not only had a weather front threatened to sink Atlantis, leading to a full-blown evacuation, but the Genii had also decided it would be a great day to invade John's city. Two of John's marines had been killed, a whole bunch of much needed medical supplies had been stolen, Rodney had been tortured, Carson had been concussed, Elizabeth had almost been kidnapped and, to top it all off, Koyla had survived the bullet John had put in him.
Today was just one of those days on a more personal level. Not only had John discovered that he actually going to have to face the whole guilt trip he was having with regards to the Winchesters, one of said Winchesters had discovered John and Rodney's relationship and now John was discovering that his marines hadn't been playing nice with the new kids. To top it all off John hadn't gotten any taboo office sex either.
Well, maybe John's problems would solve themselves and Dean would manage to get himself killed. John winced the moment the thought had passed through his head. It wasn't true and it wasn't fair. It was John's own fault that Dean had caught him and that didn't change the fact that John was still the military commander and while he was in control no one was going to pound a civilian flat.
Judging by the grim look on Lorne's face John's XO also hadn't known the developing tensions, which just served to piss John off further. It was their job to make sure shit like this didn't happen, but this was too far gone for them to stop. With the way Dean had been running his mouth off there was no way to get him out of this with out making things worse until after Winchester had taken a few bruises.
John rocked onto his heels, making himself comfortable as he watched the ring. Rousseau had finished stretching. Sergeant Warner handed back the towel that someone had passed to him and together they stepped up, ready to fight.
Dean smiled.
Then he moved.
He went for Warner first, feinting a cross punch that morphed into a grab as Warner went for the predictable block. Rousseau threw a low jab that connected with Warner as Dean twisted the man and pushed him at his ally. Warner doubled under the blow but continued to stumble forward. Rousseau sidestepped and Warner was caught by the crowd.
Rousseau surged forward, catching Dean in the gut with his fist. Dean grunted but stepped forward as Rousseau drew his fist back, getting past Rousseau's guard and responding with his own fist. The blow caught the captain in the chest and the crowd could practically hear the air rushing out of the man's lungs.
Warner launched himself from the side, grabbing Dean and pushing the kid sideways. Dean stumbled back into a role, hooking his knees under Warner's gut and launching the man back at the crowd. More specifically, back into Cadman, who, being the lady that she was, sidestepped instead of catching her fellow soldier. Warner hit the floor with a loud crack.
Dean staggered to his feet in time to take a punch to the jaw. He spun with the momentum, using it to launch into a haymaker that caught Rousseau upside the temple. Rousseau grabbed his head, probably in an effort to make the world stop spinning.
Dean didn't give him the chance. He linked his fists and brought them straight down, hitting Rousseau in the back with the edges of his hands. Rousseau sprawled forward. The man twisted, rolling onto his back in a daze.
John didn't realize he was gaping until he closed his mouth with a snap.
Dean placed one booted foot carefully on Rousseau's chest. He knelt forward, placing weight on the boot and whispered that only Rousseau could here. Whatever Dean said caused the soldier to flush.
Dean patted the man's cheek before standing up and stretching. He gave the crowd a little way. "Shows over folks." Instead of dispersing the crowd surged forward. Dean had a second of looking panicked before Cadman slapped him hard on the back. John could tell by the size of her grin that the explosive expert had won some money of the whole encounter.
Sam shook his head, watching as Dean looked more and more cornered as more and more marines started bombarding him with questions. As much as Dean could be brilliant he had absolutely no foresight.
Dean looked up, his eyes screaming for help. Sam just smirked. Dean got himself into this one, he could get himself out. Sam slipped out of the gym, laughing softly as he felt Dean's glare on his back.
He didn't realize he was being followed until he was by the transporter. Colonel Sheppard called out, "Hey, wait up!"
Sam pulled to the side and cocked his head. The man had been avoiding Sam as though the kid had been giving off odor and while Sam understood that type of guilt he was curious as to what the colonel needed to say to him. He had a sneaking suspicion that it had a bit to do with the meeting that Dean had had with the man.
"So," John drawled, "apparently Dean can fight."
"Yeah. He can." The pair stood in the hall for a moment in the heavy silence.
"So why didn't you tell anyone you two were having problems with the marines?" John rocked back and crossed his arms at the question, staring expectantly at Sam for an answer.
Sam took a step back, surprised by the line of questioning. "It was nothing we couldn't handle," he answered with a soft smile.
"And was that your way of handling it?" John tossed his head towards the gym.
Sam gave a guilty shrug. "Dean was having a bit of a bad day and it sounds like somebody pushed." He waved his hands to convey that Dean was really only human.
John's smile matched Dean's angry grin. It was a bit eerie. "And you didn't think that somebody in charge would need to know that the men weren't behaving?" Even the pleasant tone that hid the boiling rage was almost identical.
Sam responded the same way he would have to Dean. He opened his eyes wide and looked at his toes before looking up through his bangs with a pleading expression. "We didn't want to upset anyone else." John's face was a mask of disbelief and Sam found the words tumbling out of him. "Look, I know no one knows why I'm here and I know that it makes a lot of people unhappy because they put in a lot of effort to be here. Dean and I both get that. There is simply no point antagonizing people who a legitimate reason to be upset. Either they'll start to like us or they won't. It's not really a big deal."
John's flat look showed he wasn't buying it. "That was no big deal? Christ." He shook his head with disbelief. "You're a fucking kid. You're a kid who nearly died your first week here, has been being harassed by my marines and you are just a janitor here. You aren't exploring, killing bad guys or making new breakthroughs in science. Why are here? There has to be a better option on Earth, so why don't you just go back?"
Sam gave a desperate little laugh. "We're safer here."
Sheppard blinked. "Excuse me?"
Sam gave another smile, but he could feel that it was a bit wobbly. "Look, I've gotta go." He stepped into the transport and Atlantis slammed the doors shut. Sam picked a random destination, cursing his big mouth. He'd told John too much, but damn.
The man really did look like Dean.
X_X_X_X_X
Confusion Clear Ups
DADT- this story is set in 2004ish so Don't Ask, Don't Tell is still firmly in effect. For those who don't know it is the military policy of discharging members of service for being gay. It has recently been repealed but is still in the process of being phased out of the American military.
Sam, Ruby and Blood- Seasons 4&5- Sam gets addicted to Demon Blood because it boosted his psychic powers. Unfortunately, it also made him reckless, violent and crazy and that was when he wasn't in withdrawal.
Chuck's age- the actor was born in 1969. His name is… Chuck Campbell! The man was a nameless technician on the show and billed as such until Torri Higginson (Elizabeth) accidentally called him 'Chuck' during filming and the director decided to keep it, which is how Chuck became Chuck.
Punching in the Face- Season 2, Everybody Loves a Clown. Sam tries to get Dean to talk about his feelings and Dean decks him.
Tracey Warner-If you don't recognize Dean's nickname the man was in Chp 5 of Puddle Jumping where he was nicknamed Deep South. They are one and the same.
Katie Brown-The Botanist Rodney was dating. See Duet season 2 for a glimpse into their relationship.
XO -executive officer, aka 2nd in charge.
Genii Invasion-Season 1- The Storm, The Eye (2 ep arc)
Necrotizing Fasciitis- Flesh Eating Disease
Shifters- Season 1- Skin, Season 3 Nightshifter
Humans- Season 1- The Benders, Season 4- Family Remains
Use of the word faggot- While it was appropriate for the context of the fight I am going to come out and say I hate that word. I think it is small minded and offensive. For those who go "it just means a bundle of sticks" the reason for that association was that during the witchhunts, witches and dissenters were burned. Homosexuals were seen as so sub human that they weren't burned, they were tied together and used as fuel for the fire so witches could be burned. So my apologies to those who I've offended.
AN-Sorry this was so late. I'm graduating which means I'm job hunting, house hunting, studying and doing project all at the same time and to make matters just peachy I've been really sick. But here you guys go, cause I love you and all that jazz. I hope you enjoyed this and I'll have more up when I can, but any semblance of a schedule is basically toast until my life gets less crazy.
