Chapter 4

Sheppard was experiencing that strange sensation again – the one where you knew you were standing up straight, fully awake, but it felt as if the floor had suddenly dropped out from under you and you were falling into some deep, dark abyss. Being shot with a Wraith stunner sort of felt the same way. The difference was that when you woke up from being stunned, your entire body was on pins-and-needles. That feeling was only slightly worse than how he felt now.

Nervously clearing his throat, Sheppard released his grip on the hand of the man standing before him, then stuffed his hand into his pocket. It was rare that someone, anyone, could make Sheppard fall silent, almost sullen, but this man had done it without speaking a word.

Rodney, Ronon and Teyla stood nearby, each of them puzzled. As they watched their fearless leader suddenly shrink into himself, Ronon's eyes searched the gray-haired man's face standing before Sheppard. He was smiling, but Ronon was sure that even someone like McKay could see through that mask. The man's eyes were shrewd, and Ronon knew that he and the rest of the team were being assessed in much the same way they had been evaluating the stranger, their every move being filed away for later reference.

"Who's that?" Rodney asked then, standing at Ronon's elbow with a drink in his hand. Ronon eyed the champagne and then shot the physicist a look. Rodney simply shrugged and said, "What? It's a party, Ronon. And more importantly, it's free." We might as well try to fit in to whatever this is, he added mentally.

"I dunno," Ronon finally replied, ignoring McKay's justifications. He had to admit, though, that there was something familiar about this man, as if he had met or at least heard of him before, which was fairly close to impossible as they were currently on Earth, and he had only been here a grand total of twice. Since Ronon was good with faces, given enough time he might have been able to identify him; but with all the people here on Earth, well, that skill was spectacularly useless.

Teyla took the opportunity to also study the man's features, and a look of realization dawned slowly on her exotic features. Before she could utter a word, however, Sheppard had come to join them, as had the strange man. Sheppard still appeared subdued, though he tried to hide it behind a polite smile.

"Hey, guys. How's everything?" He asked.

"Fine," Ronon grunted, plucking an appetizer from a passing tray and popping it in his mouth.

Rodney leaned forward and hissed, "Oh, so you can eat, but I can't have champagne?"

Ronon just glowered at him until he backed away again.

"We're good, John," Rodney assured his friend, who nodded gratefully.

"Good to hear." Sheppard seemed anxious, his eyes darting first right, then left. Then, he did a half-turn toward his companion and said, "I guess I should introduce you all."

"Oh, for goodness' sake, John," the man cried, taking a step forward. Teyla noticed that as he did so, Sheppard subconsciously took one step back, and it made her instantly nervous. "We'll be here all day." He extended his hand to Rodney, who quickly took it if for no other reason than to stop the man from further commenting on Sheppard's manners. "I'm Patrick Sheppard. John's father."

From where he stood, Sheppard could see Teyla's face perfectly. Her brown eyes widened at his father's introduction, but at least she had the sense to keep her mouth closed. He wished he could say the same for Rodney. The man was positively agape, his mouth bobbing open and closed like a fish out of water.

"Um," Rodney stuttered, "I'm, uh, McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay."

Patrick smiled warmly – ha, Sheppard thought, there's a novel idea – and replied, "Is that so? A doctor?"

"Of physics, yes. Well, Astrophysics, really, and..."

"Quite a chatterbox," Sheppard interrupted, directing his father's attention to the six-foot-four man beside McKay. "This is Ronon Dex. He's, uh, a civilian contractor."

"Nice to meet you," Patrick greeted Ronon, who shook his hand with only half as much strength as he had readily available. He didn't think breaking Sheppard's father's hand would go over very well, especially around here.

"And who is this lovely lady?" Patrick asked then, his smile becoming wider, his voice softer.

As Teyla blushed a deep red, Sheppard replied, "This is Teyla Emmagen. She's a cultural adviser."

"Teyla." Patrick tested her name on his tongue, then smiled again before pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "Quite a lovely name."

"Thank you, Mr. Sheppard," Teyla said with a bow of her head, and Sheppard found himself grow suddenly possessive of her. Forgetting his confusion at seeing his father alive and well, he stepped forward and looped his arm around her back, his hazel eyes flashing a challenge at anyone who dared venture too close.

Shrewd businessman that he was, Patrick noticed the look in his son's eyes and straightened up, though his smile never slipped. "Well, I should go find your brother. He's been hounding me to meet his fiancee."

As Patrick walked away, Sheppard turned to the team and frowned deeply. "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"

Teyla shook her head. "I...I do not understand."

"Me either," Ronon put in. "I thought we were going to an Air Force party."

"Yeah, me too," John replied. His brow was still wrinkled in confusion.

Rodney made a sound in his throat and then asked, "So then, why's your family here, and why is there a 'Congratulations Dave and Jillian' banner hanging up?"

"I thought that your father had passed away, John."

"Yeah, he did," Sheppard confirmed with a nod. "Which is why I'm freaking out."

"Oh, this is just great," Rodney whined. "Tell me we're not on that planet with the mist again. I don't wanna starve to death."

"Shut up, McKay," Ronon growled, cutting his eyes over to Sheppard. "Not everything's about you."

To his credit, Rodney did fall silent, though he visibly pouted.

"We're not on the mist planet," Sheppard assured them. "I've been trying to change things like I did last time, but nothing's working."

"So, where are we, then?" Ronon asked.

"Not sure, yet. Just play it cool for now and let's see what we can find out."

"Guys, I think the more accurate question is 'when are we'," Rodney stated then, his eyes wide. This day had started so well, and now with each passing second, it was becoming decidedly less fun.

"What?" Ronon and Sheppard both asked, their eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Rodney sighed, quickly regaining his ego. "Look, your father died four months ago, right?"

"Right."

"And it seems that right now we're at your brother's engagement party..."

"Dave got married two years before Dad died," Sheppard murmured. "Oh, crap."

"I am lost," Teyla admitted then.

Sheppard breathed out a sigh. "Rodney thinks – and I happen to agree – that we've gone through some kind of wrinkle in time."

"How?" Ronon asked, crossing his huge arms over his chest. "We didn't use the Stargate. You said that's the only way something like this could happen."

"And I was right, as are you," Rodney conceded.

"Okay, so then what happened?" Sheppard wondered aloud, frowning. "How'd we get here?"

Rodney mimicked his frown and hissed, "Look, I couldn't even venture a guess right now. Let me get back to our room and hop on my tablet, see what I can figure out, okay?"

"I'll go with him," Ronon offered, knowing that McKay was often directionally challenged and got lost more times than any of them could count. "Besides, this tie is strangling me."

Sheppard nodded, then raised his eyebrows at Teyla. "Looks like it's just the two of us. Whatever shall we do with ourselves?"

Teyla chuckled and shook her head at his antics. "Perhaps you would care to dance? Jennifer has been teaching me a few steps here and there when she has time."

His eyebrows shot up into his hair at that. "Really?" He asked, drawing the word out as long as he could. Glancing around, he saw that there were only a few couples on the dance floor, and he finally shrugged. "I guess a song or two couldn't hurt. Just follow what I do; you'll catch on quick, I bet."

Sheppard held his bent elbow out to her, and she easily slipped her arm through the empty space and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor. When they had found a suitable place, he turned to face her and clasped her hand in his, then placed his other hand on her waist. They waited a few beats to find their start, and when the moment came, Teyla found herself trying to close her eyes and just drift along with Sheppard's momentum. He was nervous, that she could tell from the crooked smile he kept giving her, but his feet moved naturally over the floor, as if he had practiced this very dance a thousand times before. Teyla smiled sunnily back up at him, then slipped her free hand loosely around his neck.

"What is this dance called?" She asked him over the orchestra's playing. It was loud, but not uncomfortably so.

"A waltz."

"Wherever did you learn it? It seems quite difficult."

"My mom insisted that Dave and I learn to be 'civilized' children," he replied, miming quotes as best he could with both hands occupied. "She gave us lessons every Saturday afternoon."

"Well, she did a wonderful job," Teyla said. "You are very good at this."

Patrick watched his son out on the floor with his exotic-looking lady friend. For once, John was actually smiling and seeming to have a good time. Patrick had not seen him look so happy in a long time – actually, he had not seen him at all in almost two decades – and that was truly a shame. He remembered the reason why they had not spoken in so long, a silly moment when Patrick had tried to control John in the worst way possible, by insisting that John become his successor in the company, simultaneously casting all of John's own dreams and ideas out the window before he could speak them.

That whole idea had been a mistake, and only John had had the sense to see it, even way back at the young age of fourteen. Patrick's oldest son was not the type to sit behind a desk and basically live to sign paper after paper. He needed action; he'd always been the more sport-oriented child of the two, and the most accident-prone as well. But that was why Maggie had loved him, wasn't it? Because John was so much like her, down to her dark hair and hazel eyes, to the tiny dimples they both carried in their cheeks. And that – that single reason and no other – was why Patrick could barely stand to look at his son sometimes. Every time John smiled, Patrick could see Maggie reflected in the boy's face, and it hurt so much more than he ever knew anything could. Because of this, Patrick was almost glad when John had slammed out of their home that last time. Though it meant that he lost his son, it also meant that he would no longer be tortured by Maggie's ghost.

Oh, Patrick chuckled as he shook his head, if only that had been true.

"You okay, Dad?"

Patrick looked up to see Dave standing there, peering at him with the oddest expression on his face, and the Sheppard patriarch smiled.

"Sure am, son." Then, he tilted his chin toward the dance floor and asked, "You say hi to your brother?"

Dave scowled and leaned back against the bar. "No, and I don't intend to."

"David..." Patrick began, but Dave shook his head.

"No, Dad. It's fine if you want to reconcile with him, but I'd just as soon take a bullet. He's the one who left us, remember? Now he just happens to show up, after all that time, right when I get engaged..."

"Because he cares about you and Jillian." Just then, John started toward them, and he said, "Now, be nice to your brother and his friend, please."

"No promises," Dave muttered, but then smiled warmly when John had finally reached the bar. Sticking out his hand, Dave said, "Long time, no see, huh John?"

"Got that right," John replied, smiling right on back. Then, he gestured at the woman and said, "Dave, this is Teyla. Teyla, this is my brother, Dave."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Teyla greeted him, a smile – the first genuine smile between the four of them – on her light pink lips.

"Pleasure's mine," Dave said, truthful at least in this regard. "If I were a less polite man, I'd ask how you ever put up with someone like John, but, well..."

Though it sounded like a joke, neither Teyla or John could mistake the icy tone beneath his words. Before John could reply, Teyla chuckled lightly shook her head.

"Fortunately for me, your brother has grown out of most of his impulsiveness, and treats everyone around him with great respect and patience."

Okay, so that was only marginally true, but she forgave herself the small deception in order to keep the conversation light. She did not enjoy the negative cast into which Dave was painting his brother. Of course, she did not know much of the history between them, but she could tell that something in their past had hurt Dave greatly. Teyla had a hard time believing that hurt had been at John's hand, but she supposed that ultimately, anything was possible.

"Well, that's just great." Dave took a sip of his drink and then asked, "So, when can I expect an invitation?"

John's forehead wrinkled. "To what?"

"Your wedding."

"My..." Realization dawned on the colonel's face then, and he blushed a deep red as he stuttered, "We're not...we're just friends."

Dave seemed skeptical, but he simply shook his head. "My mistake. You two just seem so natural together. Not to mention her, um...condition."

Sheppard followed his brother's eyes to Teyla's rounded belly, then lifted his gaze to meet her soft brown eyes and replied, "Yeah, well, we've been through a lot together."

"I bet," Dave replied, a slight grimace of bitterness flitting across his lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?" John asked as Dave set his glass down on the bar.

"Boys," Patrick warned, but his sons were too far grown, and too stubborn, to listen.

"That it's about time you stuck around someone else long enough to form a relationship with them," Dave shrugged. "You do seem to disappear a lot."

"You weren't there," John argued back, purposely keeping his voice low. "You don't know what happened. And I only left because I didn't want my life planned out for me. I thought living in America meant you got to choose your own future. Turns out it's only true if you're not a millionaire's kid."

The room had grown quiet, Teyla noticed then. Every pair of eyes had turned toward the two brothers, who were each glaring as if their very gaze could melt the other where they stood. She considered trying to make a comment to John, but just then she caught Patrick's eye. The patriarch shook his head at her – nothing more than a slight tilt of his chin – but it was enough. She swallowed the sigh she felt rising in her throat and inclined her head in a silent response.

"You know," Dave hissed then, his eyes burning with anger, "Dad was right about you. You are just like Mom – she left us, and then so did you."

At first, it seemed that John would punch his brother – his fist clenched at his side and his lips turned into the most terrible frown Teyla had ever seen – but then he suddenly blinked and let his hand fall back to his side.

"Mom didn't want to leave us, Dave. She was sick."

Teyla could see the intense hurt on John's face, but either Dave did not or he was too angry to care. Crossing his arms, he replied, "Sure she did."

"David Sheppard," Patrick tried again. "This is not the time..."

"Why not, Dad?" Dave sneered. "Why are you protecting him now?"

"I'm not," Patrick insisted with a frown. "I just think that this conversation is better left for another day."

Dave shook his head. "Well, I don't." Turning back to John, he said, "She kept her cancer a secret until it was too late. The doctors could've helped her, but she refused. She let it sit there, in her brain, and grow until it exploded."

Surprised, John glanced at his father. "Is that true? Did she know it was coming?"

The older man nodded. "She did. I'm sorry, John. She made me keep it a secret from you boys."

"Why?"

"Like you said, John...She was sick." Now too far gone into his self-righteousness, Dave leaned forward and added, "Sick of living with us."

John's control finally gave way, and he launched himself at his brother, knocking him back against the bar before anyone could even think to intervene. With his arm pressed tight against Dave's windpipe, he yelled, "Don't you ever talk about Mom that way again!"

"She abandoned us, John! You, me, and Dad."

"Shut up, or I swear..."

"Or what?" Dave challenged, his voice croaking with the effort of speaking with John's arm closing off his airway. "You'll kill me?"

Unable to bear it any longer, Teyla rushed forward and grabbed John by the shoulders, trying to pry him off of Dave. "Let him go," she said, her voice firm even as her body trembled all over. She had seen John terrifyingly enraged before, but there was a difference this time, one that made him even more frightening than ever. For the first time, she worried that he might do something awful out of anger. "John," she repeated, "let go."

It was a full minute before John obeyed her, glaring at Dave one last time before releasing him with a shove. As John allowed himself to be hauled backwards, he pointed at Dave and said, "You might be right about me being like Mom, but you're just like Dad. Neither of you know how to love anyone but yourselves."

"You don't know me," Dave spat back.

"And I don't want to. Have a nice life, Dave."When John turned on his heel and saw Jillian walking toward her fiance, he said, "Sorry I ruined your party. Congratulations."

She gave him a hard glare as she passed and Teyla led him out of the banquet room, one hand still on his shoulder and the other wrapped firmly around his forearm. The only sound she could hear were her own heels tapping against the tiled floor as they retreated, and thankfully even that faded away once they reached the carpet of the hotel lobby. Wordlessly, they walked to the elevator, and John punched the UP button.

As they stood waiting for the doors to open, Patrick rushed into the hall and called, "John, wait!"

John cursed under his breath. The elevator still had three floors to go before it reached the lobby. "Look, I know what you're gonna say, and you can save it," he said before his father could open his mouth. "Dave resents me. I get it. It was a mistake coming here, one that I'm going to remedy right now."

"If you two had more time to talk, maybe sit down and work things out..."

"No, Dad!" John cried, just as the elevator doors opened, revealing three people who were clearly part of the celebration in the banquet room. At the look on John's face, they quickly exited the car and Teyla stepped on, her arm holding the doors open. "There's nothing left to say. My friends and I are leaving, right now. You just go back to the party and have a good time."

With that, John stepped into the elevator beside Teyla, and she removed her arm. Just before the doors shut, John watched his father turn his back and walk away.

For the second time in his life, John Sheppard felt as if his father had just given up on him.

TBC...