Fools Said I You do Not Know7
"Daddy! Daddy!" The little boys exclaimed, rushing to their father. John knelt, catching them. He hugged them. Lifted them in his arms as he stood. "Easy, boys. Mommy is okay. When I get back we can all go see her."
"Where go, daddy?"
"A little trip, Seamus, but it won't take too long."
"Can we see mommy now?"
"Not yet, Johnny. Soon, I promise." He sighed, sat on the bed, holding the boys on his lap as Maggie entered, baby in her arms. The little girl chortled, pointed at her father. "Um, the thing is, boys...mommy got sick but she's better now," he hastily assured. "Uncle Carson is looking after her. When I get back we can all go see her, okay? I'm sorry, Maggie, just for a little while longer."
"Don't worry, Colonel Sheppard. Take all the time you need. I trust that Moira is all right?"
"Yes, now. She will be fine. I need to, um, make a delivery, then I will be back. Boys." He gently moved them off his lap, stood.
"Daddy, daddy, when?" Seamus tugged his father's leg.
"Daddy, how did mommy get sick?" Johnny asked, frowning.
"I want mommy!" Seamus declared.
"I want mommy too!" Johnny agreed.
"Mama mama mama mama mama," Emily prattled, pouting.
"We all want mommy, yes," John agreed. "As soon as I get back we will go see her. Promise. Then we will have dinner and watch some cartoons."
"Daddy, it's not cartoon night," Johnny corrected.
"I know, junior, but we can make an exception for tonight."
"Daddy, where go?"
"I won't be long, buddy. Now behave. I'll be back ASAP and then we will see mommy." He looked at the little boys. Their worried, yet trusting faces. Little reflections of himself when he was a child. Johnny was nearly identical to him. Seamus had more of his mother in him. Johnny all concerned. Seamus on the verge of tears. He pulled them into another hug. Kissed them. Ruffled their hair and then was gone, striding out of the room. Emotions pulled sideways by his children, by his own worries. By the horrible, unthinkable thought of raising them without his wife. Without his Moira.
But he had made the right choice. He was certain of it. Absolutely certain.
"John? John...where..." Moira blinked.
John tensed as he landed the ship near the lake. He had been hoping the imposter would remain unconscious. He steeled himself, kept reminding himself that it wasn't his Moira behind him, strapped into the seat. It wasn't his Moira he was sending away to that alternate reality where his darker self waited, waited.
"John? Where...a ship? What...what are you doing?" Her voice came slowly, drowsy from the stun blast and subsequent reactions.
John kept the power running. Activated the auto-pilot controls. Inserted the crystal designed to trigger the anomaly, the exact calculations to open the wormhole to that other reality, that other Atlantis. He kept silent, thinking of his wife back in Atlantis, in the infirmary. Of his children anxiously awaiting his return. Wanting their mother. Needing their mother. Needing him. He would put his little family back together again and keep them safe at all costs. At any costs.
"John? What are you doing? John! Talk to me, please! John, why am I tied up like this? John, please! I am your wife! The real–"
"No. You're not." His voice was calm. Mild. Devoid of any emotion as he locked it all down. He stood, turned to her. Glare like ice. "I am sending you back. To him. Tell him his bait and switch plan failed. Fucking bastard."
"You...oh my God! No, no, no, you can't!" Moira's brown eyes were huge with fear. "John, you can't! It's me! Moira! The real Moira, your wife! You can't do this! John, the children! You can't leave her with the children! Please! Don't send me there! It's what he wants!" She struggled against the bonds, but they were tight. Unyielding. "Don't you see? This is exactly what he wanted all along! Please, John, listen to me! I am your wife! Your real wife!"
"Enough!" He moved to her. Made certain the straps were secure. Imprisoning her in the seat. "This is set to fly you back to your reality! Your Atlantis. To him! He's lucky I'm not sending a fucking corpse this time!" he snarled.
"No! John, please you are making a terrible mistake! I'm the real Moira! Your wife! The mother of your children! John, please! Leave me on this planet then, if you're not sure, but please, please don't send me back there! Don't send me to him! I beg you, please! John, please, I love you! I'm the real Moira! How can I prove it to you? I'll do anything, anything!"
John moved away from her. Stomach twisting but his resolve undimmed. "Tell him he's lucky I don't kill you!"
"John, please! I'd rather you kill me than send me back there! To him! John, I'm your wife! Your real wife! The children! John, she's a danger to the children! Don't send me away from my children! John, please! Please, you can't do this to me! John! John! JOHN!"
He exited the ship, deaf to her pleading, her screams. Feeling physically sick nonetheless. He shut the hatch. Could still hear her as he activated the auto-pilot. As he stumbled backwards and watched the ship dive into the blue waters of the lake. Watched it sink under them, creating waves to splash along the muddy shoreline. He hugged himself, an uncharacteristic stance. Lips pursed together tightly. A shiver running along his skin.
He waited until the waters calmed. Until the very last ripple gently lapped the shore at his feet. Resolute he turned. Began the long walk back to the Stargate.
Back to Atlantis.
Back to his family.
Back home.
"Daddy, daddy!"
"Ssh! Look." John held each boy by a hand as he led them into the infirmary. To the foot of the bed where Moira reclined. Still hooked up to a host of monitors. "See? Mommy's sleeping now so we have to be quiet. When she wakes up tomorrow she will be all better."
"Your father is right, lads," Carson agreed, joining them. He met John's gaze. "Her vitals are improving steadily. Everything's reading as it should be, John."
"Mommy sick?" Seamus whispered, clinging to his father. Tears filled his eyes.
"Yes, Seamus, but Uncle Carson will make her all better. Don't you cry now."
"Can we stay with mommy?"
"No, Johnny. You will, tomorrow. Right now mommy needs her sleep. I will stay with her tonight to make sure she isn't disturbed. Let's go have dinner now and then watch some cartoons, okay? Then I will read you a story for bedtime and take care of Ems. Everything will be fine, don't you worry, boys. Everything will be fine." He exchanged a glance with Carson. Willing the words to be true.
John sat in the chair next to Moira. He was trying to read a book, needing the distraction. Trying to keep his mind from turning his decision over and over like a Ferris wheel, wishing his wife would awaken and prove he had in fact made the correct decision. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Not until Moira awakened and he had spoken with her.
It was a book Moira had given him a few years back. Only now he had the time to actually read it. A book about some detective in Vegas. The cover a splash of color and letters. Vegas Blues it was called. He turned it over, read the blurb on the back cover. Turned it to the front again and perused the dedication. Smiled briefly.
He glanced at his wife. She was still. So still and pale. The monitors were beeping softly. He could see the slow rise and fall of her chest. The other Moira's screams echoed in his head and he shoved them down, forced them aside. Along with any doubts or second guesses, along with any uncertainty and fear. Convincing himself he had made the right choice. The only choice.
He opened the book again. Began to read, as fiction and real life blended in his mind. As the narrative took his mind off his immediate concerns and into another world entirely.
Johnny and Seamus walked down the dark hallway, hand in hand. Johnny used his free hand to touch the wall. Lights blinked along the floor, guiding the two little boys. The city would direct them to their destination, and keep them safe from the shadows. Seamus was clutching his woolly mammoth toy in his free hand. Needing the added comfort of his favorite companion. Their footed pajamas enclosed their bare feet and kept their footsteps silent.
"Johnny, where go?"
"I told you. To see mommy. And daddy. Hush, Meredith!"
The dog was following them, nails clacking on the floor. The animal barked quietly, but became silent. Tail wagging as he dutifully followed his young charges, ever alert for any danger or threat.
"I want mommy," Seamus complained.
"I want mommy too. Here, this way." The little boys turned a corner. Lights spread out before them, guiding them. Chasing back the scary darkness. The city hummed under their feet.
"Maggie be mad at us," Seamus warned.
"No, she won't. She's asleep with Emily and we have Meredith so it's okay," Johnny reasoned.
"Daddy be mad at us," Seamus warned, not convinced.
"No, daddy won't be mad because we want to see mommy. Now ssh!" Johnny led the younger boy into the infirmary. Shadows dominated. The beeping of machines could be heard. They cast a weird glow over the empty beds and cluttered tables. Equipment towered over the two little boys, like monsters with elongated arms and scary tubes. Nevertheless the two little boys continued walking past it all.
"Daddy!"
"Ssh! Don't wake him!" Johnny warned.
John was slouched in the chair next to Moira. The opened book was sprawled across his lap. Head bent. One arm dangling to the floor. Legs extended in front of him. He stirred at the sound of little voices, but fell back asleep, exhausted. Not sensing anything wrong.
"Mommy!" Seamus ran. Clambered up onto the bed and snuggled against his mother. "Mommy, mommy!" he muttered, hiding his face against her. Hugging her. He fought not to cry. Instead cuddled close to her. One hand still clutching his favorite toy.
Johnny stood a moment. Head tilting, brow furrowing. He moved to his father. Gently tugged his hand. "Daddy? Daddy?" Something was wrong. Something he couldn't put a name to, something that made his gut twitch. Made him feel uncomfortable. Something that made his heart beat a little faster. "Daddy? Daddy, daddy, mommy don't feel right."
Moira opened her eyes. Someone was touching her. Straps were being loosened. Cramped muscles sent tendrils of pain along her arms and legs. She blinked. The lights were too bright. Things were out of focus. Until a man's face came into view. A handsome face with dark brown hair. Brilliant green eyes. A trace of scruff lining a strong jaw. "John? John...you..." She stared. Froze. Realized.
"Welcome home, Moira," Sheppard rasped.
Moira screamed.
John dreamed. Exhaustion and tension had drained him. He had fallen asleep as he had neared the end of the book. Images converging in his head from his life, from the narrative. A convoluted escape from the horror, the fear he tried to deny, to bury. Instead he escaped. Threw himself into a completely different, yet oddly familiar world.
A world he could control. A world in which he could lose himself, forget himself. Yet still retain certain elements. Certain feelings.
Certain people.
It was going to be one of those days...