8 Months Ago…
The Sheppard Ranch
Manassas, VA
McKay pulled the rented Lexus 4-door sedan onto the paved turn-off from the quiet, two-lane highway. The single, old-fashioned mailbox with "Sheppard" and a street number painted on the outside was the only marker to show that they had arrived at their destination—that and the disembodied, artificial voice of their GPS.
"You have arrived at your destination: Sheppard Ranch on the left."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," McKay groused, flicking off the navigation system. "I got it."
He looked over at Sheppard, who was sprawled on the passenger seat, having succumbed to his meds almost as soon as they had pulled out of Dulles Airport. He had slept soundly for the better part of an hour.
Ronon sat in the back, occasionally asking questions about landmarks they passed. McKay had given up trying to explain that just because he was from Earth did not mean that he had been everywhere on it. Whenever he had visited Washington, D.C., on business, he had flown into Reagan/National, not Dulles. He was not familiar with the local area.
However, even a Canadian such as himself knew enough history to know that Manassas was the site of a great American Civil War battlefield.
"…You're kidding, right?" Ronon asked bemused. "The top half of Sheppard's country fought against the bottom half? That doesn't make sense."
"Yeah, well…a lot about our neighbors to the South doesn't," McKay replied.
"Huh?" Ronon said, confused by McKay's word choice.
"Never mind…" McKay said tiredly. "Just leave it at—the North, or the 'top half' if you will, won the war, and eventually, the country grew stronger. Today, it's probably the most powerful nation in the world."
Ronon grunted, meaning…what exactly? McKay wasn't entirely sure whether it signaled that Ronon understood or that he didn't. Frankly, McKay was too tired from traveling to care. At least, the car settled back into comfortable silence…
As they pulled up to the house, McKay whistled appreciatively, taking a good look around the "ranch."
"Wow." It was all he could think to say. Leave it to Sheppard to have never once talked about the lifestyle of the rich and famous that he obviously grew up in.
"Are all Earth homes this nice?" Ronon asked, climbing out. He had seen it before, but because of the circumstances of the visit, never got around to asking Sheppard.
"Are you kidding me?" McKay retorted, popping the trunk for Ronon. He turned to Sheppard and shook him awake. "Hey, wake up, Sleeping Beauty…we've arrived at your castle."
Sheppard opened his eyes blearily.
"And don't try that innocent look on me," McKay added. "Why the hell'd you keep all this a secret?" He waved vaguely at the grounds around the elegant estate: horse stables and exercise yard, swimming pool, manicured lawn, beautiful garden.
Ignoring McKay, Sheppard rubbed his face to wake up and opened the door. He glared at Ronon who was already standing there with a wheelchair. "Ronon…I told you I don't need it!"
"Don't care," Ronon shrugged. "Keller said you use it or else."
"Or else, what?" Sheppard demanded.
"Or else, she sticks us with the biggest needles she's got," McKay said, pointing at himself and Ronon. "And don't think she won't. That woman is a menace!"
"Rodney…she weighs about a hundred pounds soaking wet!" Sheppard protested.
"Yeah, well…she carries a big needle! So…come on, all aboard! Chop-chop!"
Sheppard shook his head in defeat. First Beckett and now Keller—it seemed that he was doomed to be mother-henned to death by his doctors and their helpers. He gave each of his keepers a look of utter disgust.
"Traitors," he muttered.
Still, he couldn't stay angry. After all, McKay and Ronon had volunteered to accompany him back to Earth for his convalescence. Teyla would have come, but Dr. Keller had finally isolated the means to reverse the effects of Michael's hybrid retrovirus. This meant that while John was recovering at home, Kanaan and the rest of the Athosians who had been victims of Michael's mad schemes were finally going to have their humanity fully restored.
Teyla stayed behind to assist her people in any way she could and to get them through these trying, yet hopeful times. More importantly, once cured Kanaan would be able to join her and Torren John in Atlantis, and the three would make use of the downtime to reconnect and bond as a family.
Sheppard sighed. He was happy for Teyla, but unhappy for himself and with the turn of events after rescuing Keller from the wannabe Wraith Hive creepy, killer vine…things.
Apparently, he had been exposed to an alien virus while he was lying under a ton of rubble, impaled and bleeding out after Michael's lab imploded and landed on top of him. It didn't help that he had gone against Keller's orders and mounted a stupidly daring rescue mission to save Teyla, while he himself was in desperate need of major surgery.
Then, just a few short weeks later, he was impaled (again!) in the same spot by the Wraith vine. Luckily, the initial surgery following the building collapse had gone well, and so had the second surgery he'd had to undergo from the killer-vine attack. Sheppard winced. Only in his job could he say something that stupid and actually have it be true.
As luck would have it, the secondary exposure resulted in his already weakened immune system being seriously compromised. Eventually, what with one thing or another, the alien bacteria had sufficient time to attack his immune system, and an insignificant cough developed into full-blown pneumonia. Before long, he was hooked up to a ventilator and all manner of machines that served to keep him alive.
Thankfully, Keller was able to concoct just the right combination of drugs to prop up his immune system, and finally, Sheppard's own body was able to successfully fight off the infection; however, he needed time to regain his strength. Dr. Keller was young and seemed at times naïve, but she knew enough about her most reluctant patient to prescribe ten days R-and-R earthside—where he wouldn't be tempted to respond to an emergency before he was physically ready.
Sheppard glared at his two friends. With them around, he knew he wouldn't be able to cheat on his meds or enforced recuperation.
Rolling up to the front door, he pressed the doorbell. He remembered that as a boy he was fascinated by the door chimes, often ringing the doorbell and upsetting the routine indoors. The chime would echo through the house, bringing their housekeeper Rosemary hurrying to the door, complaining about unwanted callers interrupting her busy day.
Within moments, the door was opened by a kindly, older woman who was definitely on the plus-side of seventy, mumbling the all-too memorable mantra.
"…don't have better things to do than interrupt a body's busy day—" Her annoyed, questioning demeanor quickly changed to one of delight.
"Mr. Johnny!" she exclaimed, reaching down and hugging Sheppard to her massive bosom. "Look at you! And as handsome as ever. Oh…you have your mother's eyes…and your father's stubborn chin." She ran an affectionate hand through his unruly hair and shook her head, tsking. His untamable locks had been the bane of her existence she'd told him time and again.
Sheppard ducked his head in embarrassment, his cheeks, neck, and ears a bright red.
"Hello, Rosemary…how are you?" Sheppard asked. "I'm sorry we didn't get to talk the last time I was here."
"Oh, Mr. Johnny…that's all right. I was just happy to hear that you and Mr. Davey talked." Rosemary paused, smiling. "And it's about time, too!" Her smile grew wider. "Oh, listen to me, going on so. You boys must be tired after your long trip. Let me show you to your rooms…Mr. Johnny, I'll fix the downstairs guestroom for you, so you don't have to worry about the stairs." She stopped and took a long look at him as if seeing the wheelchair for the first time. She placed her hands on her hips. "And just what did you do to yourself?"
Sheppard groaned. Here it comes, he complained. He glanced over at McKay and Ronon who were looking on with great amusement and scowled. Great! That's all he needed. More ammunition for these two clowns to hold over him.
Rosemary tsked again. "Ever since he was a little boy…always coming home with scrapes and bruises—"
"Rosemary!" Sheppard whined. "Please, leave me a little dignity intact. I've gotta work with these guys."
She made a dismissive noise in her throat. "Don't you take that tone with me, young man. I used to change your diapers—"
"Oh, God, please let the earth swallow me now!" Sheppard fervently prayed. He glared daggers at McKay and Ronon who were snickering helplessly.
"I see you made it home, John."
Sheppard turned gratefully to the sound of his brother's amused voice. "Dave…! Am I glad to see you!"
"You, too, little brother." Dave smiled then turned to their housekeeper, smiling indulgently.
Rosemary had practically raised the two brothers after their mother was diagnosed with incurable cancer and died shortly thereafter. She had kissed their scraped elbows, wiped their fevered brows, and tanned their bottoms when they got out of line. But in all those years, she'd never raised her voice to them in anger, showing them a mother's love when theirs was no longer there to provide it.
"Rosemary, why don't you let poor Johnny off the hook? I think he's been humiliated enough for one day." He grinned at his brother's discomfiture and introduced himself.
"…And you're Ronon, right? I remember you from Dad's Wake."
At Ronon's nod, McKay snorted. "As if anyone could forget Conan, here." Seeing everyone's attention on him, McKay held out his hand to Dave. "Doctor Rodney McKay…that's two Ph.D.'s, actually…in a real scientific discipline, not one of those pseudo-voodoo medical fields…"
John rolled his eyes.
Dave seemed a little taken aback—okay, John admitted, closer to bulldozed—by the scientist's brusque demeanor. "And are you also a government contractor, like Ronon here?" he asked during a momentary lull in Rodney's rant.
"What? Like Ronon? Hardly…I did mention the two Ph.D.'s, didn't I? Unlike your brother and Ronon, I don't normally shoot or blow up things I don't understand. What I do is much more—"
"Yeah, Dave…" Sheppard interrupted, "McKay's also a government contractor." And, just for good measure, added, "Like Ronon." He glared at McKay, daring him to challenge him.
McKay opened his mouth a couple of times before finally nodding in reluctant agreement. "Yeah…just like Ronon. We're practically twins—right, Conan?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Sheppard said, ending the discussion before Ronon could reply.
Grinning, Dave turned to their housekeeper. "Rosemary, why don't you show our two guests to their rooms? We'll have a chance to get better acquainted later at dinner. Is that all right with you gentlemen?"
McKay and Ronon nodded and left with Rosemary. When they were gone, the two brothers broke out laughing.
"Wow…that McKay is a force of nature," Dave said, awed.
"Tell me about it. I've worked with him for five years now," Sheppard said, his expression tolerant. "And how about Rosemary? She hasn't changed a bit."
"No…some things are a constant in our family: Your wild hair, the Sheppard stubbornness, and Rosemary's ability to bring out your inner five-year-old." They had reached the study by then and Dave offered his brother a drink. Sheppard turned it down because of his meds, but took a cool glass of iced tea.
"So…what happened to you?" Dave asked.
Sheppard shrugged and shook his head. "Let's just say that I forgot to duck and leave it at that."
Dave nodded and dropped the matter for the moment. "Fine…how long will you be here? Do you know?"
"I've got almost ten days of convalescent leave and thought it'd be nice to spend Christmas at home for a change. Then I need to be examined by our unit physician to ensure I'm fully recovered before they send me back. Rodney and Ronon came along to make sure I made it here okay. They'd like to stick around for a couple of days if it's okay with you? I mean… if we're in the way, we could stay in a hotel. Rodney's flying out on Christmas Eve to visit his sister in Canada—and he's invited Ronon to go with him."
"Are you kidding? I'm happy you brought your friends with you. We have more than enough room here—you know that. Besides…you came at a great time. You see, I'm getting married in a few days—on December 26th, the day after Christmas. And I want you to be my Best Man."
Sheppard was taking a sip from his tea at the time his brother spoke and immediately spewed his drink. He went into a coughing fit for a few minutes, before he was finally able to get it under control. Dave didn't help matters by pounding him on the back a couple of times.
"What? You?" Sheppard wheezed after a while. "David Sheppard, confirmed bachelor—getting married? When did this happen? Why didn't you say something after Dad's Wake? Who's the bride-to-be? Do I know her?"
At the rapid fire questions, Dave gave his brother a small, enigmatic smile. He toyed with his drink for a moment as if trying to reach a decision. Finally, he looked Sheppard in the eye and took a deep breath and then hesitated again.
"Dave…?" Sheppard's inflection asked more questions than if he had articulated them out loud.
"John…this isn't easy for me, so I'm just gonna say it. Johnny, there is no 'bride-to-be'."
"What? You just said—"
"Johnny…I'm gay."
Sheppard's face went through a myriad of expressions—from out-and-out shock, to mildly disturbed, to thoughtful realization and acceptance.
"But what about the girl at the lake…Libby, right?" Sheppard asked. "And how about that model a couple of years ago…what was her name—?"
"Danica."
"Yeah…Danica! What about her?"
Dave shrugged. "Libby was just a friend, and…Johnny, I was still just a kid. I didn't know what wanted. I didn't understand my feelings for other guys. I didn't really have a serious relationship until college." Dave took a gulp from his drink. "As for Danica…she was Dad's idea. Made for some good photo ops, kept the company's name in the limelight. Believe me…I'm not proud about it."
"So, that's why you never brought any girls home?" At his brother's nod, Sheppard grinned abashed. "And here I thought it was 'cause you thought I'd try to steal 'em from you."
Dave grinned. "No…once I knew I preferred guys, I figured it was safer not to try crossing that bridge for a while."
John nodded. He sure hadn't seen this coming. Tentatively he asked, "Did Dad know?"
"Yeah…I told him."
"And—?"
"I told him soon after you two had your big fight. I practically dared him to disown me, too. I mean…if he could treat you—a highly decorated war hero—"
John snorted at being described as a war hero. "Right…" He muttered, taking a sip from his tea.
Dave continued, ignoring his brother's side comment."—then what was to stop him from throwing me out, too—his fag son!"
"Don't say that!" Sheppard snapped at his brother, angry at his use of the pejorative term.
"Eventually, we came to an understanding. Dad only asked that I didn't do anything that would reflect badly on the company or the Sheppard name." Dave grinned impishly. "I promised I wouldn't dress in black leather or march in the Gay Pride Parade."
John laughed. He couldn't imagine his socially conservative brother doing or wearing anything flamboyant to call attention to himself. If there were any words to describe David Sheppard, they were "low key."
"What'd he say to that?" he asked.
"Dad told me what he should've had the courage to say to you—that I was his son, and he loved me no matter what."
John dropped his eyes and nodded, hurt that his father had never said the same words to him, but proud that he'd had the sense to say them to Dave.
"I'm glad for you, Dave," he said. "And I'd be honored to be your Best Man."
oOo
