Chapter 35: Training

Sheppard was his father.

Alex had managed to keep it together for the rest of the Christmas celebrations and had then proceeded to entirely freak out in his room.

None of it made any sense.

He had seen pictures.

Or he thought he had.

There was always the possibility that Sheppard had seriously aged in the past fifteen years, but…

There had never been any photos that showed Alex with his parents – but it wasn't like they had lived for very long after he was born. Just three months.

Well. Apparently, Sheppard had lived.

Somehow.

Pilkes clearly knew something was up – Alex had managed to keep up a ground eating pace for the entirety of their three-mile run – but he hadn't said anything. Had just watched Alex with an inscrutable expression.

He wasn't sure if that was better or worse than what would surely have been Greg's incessant pestering.

Breakfast was nearly awkward, but some crisis had Rodney storming in and dragging Sheppard out almost as soon as Alex arrived, saving him from having to navigate that particular roadblock. Rumors flew faster than a puddlejumper, so no doubt as soon as it became apparent that Sheppard was publicly avoiding him, everyone would know something was up. The exact type of attention he was trying to avoid.

There was no Greg as buffer either – having an early morning appointment with the infirmary to check his healing. All he had was Pilkes. Who was great, but no Greg.

Alex sat down at a table and started to pick at his food under Pilkes' watchful gaze. Thankfully, that man seemed to know some level of tact and was mostly content to not poke at whatever had put Alex into a foul mood. And he didn't seem like the gossiping type.

A tray dropped down across from Alex, startling him out of his musing. He scowled up at whoever had decided to interrupt his peace.

Ronon just smirked at him, before sliding into the empty seat. "Training."

There was no question, no option for backing out, just a statement of fact.

A glance at Pilkes showed he wasn't getting rescued from that corner. "Today?"

Ronon gave him a look like he was stupid.

Which… right. He had strongly implied that as soon as Alex was cleared for normal duty again, training would be on the docket. And now probably wasn't the time to go against Ronon's wishes. Any of the Marines would gladly fall over themselves for some one-on-one training, after all. It would only make him stand out.

"And Dr. Z?"

"Knows."

Alex blew out a long breath, before glancing in Pilkes' direction – his expression was notably blank. A set up then. No doubt Greg's handiwork, even though he wasn't present. "Fine." Besides, maybe swinging some sticks around and hitting things would make him feel better.

They finished the rest of their food in silence.

Ronon got up and dumped the trays, before glancing at Pilkes dismissively. "I've got him."

Pilkes opened and closed his mouth, before sighing and confirming with Sheppard that this was an approved diversion from schedule. Alex gritted his teeth at being the reason – yet again – for bothering Sheppard.

Then, with little fanfare, Ronon led the way through the halls and transporters to the main sparring room – a place that most Marines weren't allowed without an express invitation. The place where select few from the science team trained.

They passed through the doors, letting them slide shut with a hiss.

"Lock it," Ronon instructed. "Break in one."

It wasn't difficult to find the controls, engaging a lock that would dissipate after an hour. It was a feature that he used on his own room quite frequently – especially now when he didn't want any nighttime visitors. Even Dr. Beckett was on the no-contact list.

Ronon grabbed a set of sticks – much less ornately carved than the ones he had been gifted and shaped a little differently – and tossed them in Alex's direction. Alex inspected them – just longer than his forearm and about a thick as his wrist – then hefted them for weight. For someone not regularly picking up and flinging around weighted sticks, he had a feeling that his wrists were going to hate him at the end of the day. Assuming they ever got to the actual point of contact…

"Warm up. Carson will kill me if we end up visiting him."

That earned a rueful grin and Alex started stretching. Dr. Beckett was the last person he needed to see.

Alex flopped back onto the mats, letting the sticks fall to the wayside. His arms hurt. His shoulders were throbbing. And he was pretty sure his fingers were starting to go numb from the repeated shocks of contact.

"You are much better than Sheppard, when he started." Teyla had showed up not long after the first hour had passed, seemingly content to observe from the sidelines.

Alex groaned and rolled over to bury his face. Sheppard.

Teyla made a soft noise, before crossing the floor to sit next to him – perhaps it was finally time to take a break. "Like father, like son."

"Oh, for—"

Teyla raised a careful eyebrow in his direction and Alex bit his tongue.

These were Sheppard's friends after all. Of course they would be on his side.

Ronon huffed, picked up the sticks, and joined them on the mats. An intervention then. Though he didn't see why they weren't bugging Sheppard about all this, since he was the one avoiding Alex.

"How long is this going to go on?"

Alex groaned, then pushed into a sitting position. "Excuse me if I'm having trouble dealing with the fact that I have a father who apparently couldn't be bothered to stick around."

Teyla tilted her head curiously. "Do you really believe that?"

No.

And how could he?

Despite everything, despite Sheppard more or less avoiding him, nothing had changed. Besides, wasn't it supposed to be the stuff of dreams? How many kids had dreamed about their parents miraculously returning to life? He had too at one point.

"He doesn't even remember that my mother existed." Much less that he had a child, apparently.

And that stung.

"Have you not seen events outside of your explanation?" Teyla asked. "Why must both be true?"

Alex huffed.

Perhaps that was the worst part. Because there was no denying the shock or confusion coming from Sheppard. He truly believed that that year had never actually existed – not the way it had apparently played out. He had somehow forgotten a wife, child, and an entire identity in some covert governmental activity.

The assassination by MI6 had been a ruse within a ruse.

Had either entity truly known the whole story? Or was there another player? How had Sheppard, who sounded so quintessentially American, kept up the façade of someone born and raised in London?

It wasn't like Alex was about to go march up to Mrs. Jones or Mr. Blunt and demand answers. Like, who had they actually hired?

Had they known?

"None of us understand what happened, but you know John. After three months, you have seen what he does for those he cares about."

And perhaps that was the hardest part.

Because it was impossible to deny that Sheppard cared. Alex couldn't delude himself about that.

Things had been getting rougher and rougher with Woolsey and Dr. Madsen – surely only to be spurred on by the current hiccup. Sheppard had been fighting against multiple forces just to keep Alex in the city – and somehow, it didn't seem that any of the current revelations had changed that. Not even the admittance that Alex had been an assassin for a short period of time.

"Then why is he avoiding me?" The question spilled out before Alex could stop it.

Teyla gave him a soft smile, while Ronon huffed in laughter. "Who says he is avoiding you? Maybe you are avoiding him?"

Alex shook his head. No. He definitely wasn't avoiding Sheppard. He just didn't want to be the cause of any awkwardness. Didn't want to start up the rumor mill around them once again.

"Have you heard the story of Lo'Estra?" Teyla asked, seemingly from nowhere.

Alex shook his head.

"Lo'Estra was a planet that held a great many secrets. They were travelers of the galaxy, sharing with their allies wares that had great power against the Wraith. No one knew the address of their planet, even their people did not know it, except for a few special individuals. They shared knowledge, friendship, and families with their technological rivals – their children studied at the libraries of Sateda, Mindus, and L'Catera. And then, they all disappeared."

"Destroyed by the Wraith," Ronon cut in. "Four years after Sateda fell."

"For many years, it was believed that all were lost – save for Karlina, who had been visiting my people. She was never able to find a way home. Then, three years ago, two children were found – survivors of Lo'Estra. No memories of where they came from or how they were rescued originally, but there was no doubt that those were their people. They should have been old enough to remember, but they have no memories of the first ten years of their life. Years of memories, gone. Yet Karlina took them in as her own, told them the stories of their people, and did her best to bring them peace about the families and lives they never had a chance to know. You, I think, are not so unalike. Both you and John have a second chance that so many would dream of."

Alex chewed on his lip, still not entirely sure where Teyla was going with this story.

And it was different. They had been at war. With an alien race.

Sheppard's memory loss was entirely unexplained – but it had to be earth-made. The gate hadn't even been discovered at that point.

"Weirder things have happened in your galaxy and mine than a year's worth of memories gone, but it requires adjustment. And I know John – he's trying to not force you into adjusting." She gave him a look, as if it were all his fault. "He will put everything at risk, so as to not force you."

So, what… they were both doing the same thing? Waiting until the other made a move?

"After everything he has done, up until now, why do you think this is what will drive him away?"

Alex glared at the floor.

Just because she had a point didn't mean he had to like it.

Sheppard had showed over the past weeks that he would go out of his way to make sure that Alex was comfortable and safe within the city. That there were others on his side, even when certain individuals were keen to kick him out.

"Perhaps you should think on why you ever wanted to learn more about John Rider."

Alex jerked back, glancing between the two of them.

They knew.

So apparently Sheppard had let that little tidbit slip.

At least they didn't seem to look at him any differently.

There was a buzz in the back of his mind, as the locks on the doors unlocked automatically for the third time that morning. And despite not having a touch of Ancient in him, Ronon seemed to know exactly when it let loose.

He clapped Alex on the shoulder, before heaving himself up. "Okay, break's over. Up."

Teyla gave him one more searching expression, before getting up herself. Apparently, the intervention was over. Alex rolled his eyes, before pushing up from the floor, his wrists protesting the movement. He was definitely going to be sore later.

"One more session." Ronon nodded toward the door.

Alex hit the locks once more, before settling into his stance. Maybe he could hit enough things that he would forget his frustration with Sheppard – and with himself.

A/N: Teyla and Ronon certainly have their work cut out. Alex and John can both be rather stubborn… A little shorter than usual, but hope you enjoyed!