He wasn’t given his old quarters – they had been reassigned years ago, he had been told – to a nice couple, a botanist and a soldier, whose eight kids had been relocated to Nunavut for three years in the mandatory ‘Encounters with Canada’ program. But Rodney was brought to a nice enough room, in a part of the city that hadn’t been opened before, and he had a balcony, and a TV and a radio that carried earth stations somehow. There were also three cameras, four microphones and six spider-like devices that Rodney couldn’t figure out. He disabled all of them, crunched a few under his heel, and spent the next half hour taking apart the TV, to try to figure out how the virtual reality worked.
The door didn’t chime before it opened, nor did he open it with his mind, but when Rodney turned to look, he could see soldiers parting in the hallway to let someone through.
Teyla had gotten – not fat, but soft. Instead of being an imposing warrior princess, she was comfortable; smile lines settled on her face and rounded arms under a knitted sweater. But she was still so, so beautiful, and when Rodney stumbled to stand and she drew his head to hers and touched his forehead, he finally felt that he was at least a little bit home.
He stood like that for a long second, Teyla’s warm hands cupping his face, trying to blink away the manly tears from irritation that were forming in his closed eyes.
Teyla pulled back gently, and just looked at him, searching his face with her warm brown eyes.
“Rodney,” she said softly. “I did not believe I would ever see you again. I am blessed.”
“Are you –” he asked, feeling the corners of his mouth crook down. “Everyone just seems so miserable, and oh god Teyla, please tell me you’re okay, because I need you to be happy and I’m so sorry I went into that cave, but there were energy readings and we were all out of the spaghetti MRE’s, so there was really no point to lunch –“
Teyla’s smile cut him off, he knew he was babbling, but he needed, something, anything to be normal.
“I am well,” Teyla said gently, touching his arm. “My children are well, my people are prosperous.”
“Your children?” Rodney said. “How many? You married Ronon? You know, John and I always said that there was something going on, because no one actually likes fighting together that much without something…”
And Teyla apparently still had the ability to terrify him into silence, which he guessed came in handy with the kids.
“I did not marry Ronon,” Teyla said, leading him over to sit down at the table and chairs in the kitchenette. “I married one of my own people.”
“That’s good too. You should make Ronon a godfather or something, he would be good with kids, he’s climbable –”
“Rodney,” Teyla said sharply, her mouth flattening out. “Much has happened since you disappeared.”
Rodney drummed his fingers on the tabletop, tension skittering across his shoulders.
“Ronon…”
Ronon bit his tongue in an effort to keep quiet, as Teyla visibly searched for words.
“It has been a long time,” Teyla said. “We honour his memory.”
“Why?” said Rodney. He knew why.
Teyla put her hand over Rodney’s, stilling his fingers.
“He and John were searching for you.” Teyla’s eyes were kind, but her voice was starting to shake a little. “It was against Elizabeth’s orders, you had been gone too long, but John refused to stop searching, and Ronon was loyal to John.”
“John,” Rodney swallowed hard. “John never could leave a man behind.”
“No,” Teyla said, tightening her grip on Rodney’s hand. “John could not leave you behind. He defied many orders, and he shut the city down for weeks in order to force Elizabeth and Caldwell into continuing the search.”
“Oh.” Rodney didn’t even want to imagine it.
“And then,” Teyla continued. “John and Ronon were following a lead we had heard from some traders, and the Wraith came. Ronon sacrificed himself so that John could get through the Stargate. John told me he had died fighting bravely, but he was overwhelmed.”
“And John?”
“He went back to earth soon after,” Teyla said. “I left a short time after that.”
“I’m sorry.” Rodney said miserably. It was all his fault, everything.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Teyla’s face was serene. “You are not at fault for anything that has happened.”
Rodney nodded mutely.
“Now,” Teyla said, reaching into a pocket. “Let me show you photographs of my children. The youngest, Persephone, is already over a year old.”
Teyla’s children were beautiful, of course, and her husband shared Teyla’s kind smile. The Athosian settlement was thriving on Atlantis, and without the constant threat of the Wraith, the Pegasus galaxy was becoming vibrant and peaceful.
“In fact,” Teyla said, after showing him a picture of her oldest at her primary school, “there are many people from Earth who have settled in Pegasus after being exiled from their own galaxy.”
“I have to go back to Earth.” Rodney said, staring at the picture. Teyla’s daughter was holding miniature sticks. “See Jeannie.”
“We missed you, Rodney.” Teyla smiled at him gently, forcing him to look up from the photo. “All of us.”
“I know.” Rodney tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.
“John especially.” Teyla stood up, and pressed her forehead against Rodney’s. “I have never seen a man more broken than him after he lost you. Do not think he does not wish to see you again.”
She smiled once again, and left, leaving Rodney to his muddled thoughts.
*
“Mormon fundamentalists have issued a list of demands to the Canadian government today as a condition of releasing the captured hospitals. The number of fatalities is expected to be severe, as medical care is not available outside of these hospitals since last year’s roundup and execution of doctors and medical personnel who had continued to work in private practice. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police responded to these threats with mass arrests among all religious groups and church leaders. Prominent religious leaders disappeared last night, rumored to have been transported to work camps in the Northwest Territories, although the government gives no official comment. When Prime Minister Ignatieff was asked how far he would take the restrictions on religious and cultural assembly, he replied ‘just watch me.’ This has been George Stroumboulopoulos reporting for the CBC.”
Two soldiers arrived at Rodney’s door shortly after Teyla left, and asked, with considerable politeness, if he would mind coming with them to Elizabeth’s office.
He assented, of course, because they had big guns, he couldn’t even give them a paper cut worth writing home about, and listening to the radio was a surreal, frightening, experience.
The walk to Elizabeth’s office was quiet, punctuated by the nervous looks his guards gave him. They didn’t have Canadian flag patches anywhere on their uniform, and Rodney hated himself a little for noticing.
Elizabeth’s office was striking, in that it hadn’t really changed much. It did, however, have a giant Canadian flag over the door, and a large portrait of a leering middle-aged man hung over Elizabeth’s desk. He looked a little like the creepy uncle who had been way too nice to Jeannie when they were younger.
“Rodney!” Elizabeth said warmly, coming around her desk to embrace him.
Rodney closed his eyes as he embraced her, letting her drop her head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know that her face was ravaged and mottled.
She pulled back and kissed him firmly on the cheek. “I know you’ve probably heard it enough, but I’m so happy that you’re back.”
“Uh.” Rodney stumbled. “Me too.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said, “You probably didn’t miss us at all – you really don’t remember the last ten years?”
“They didn’t actually happen to me –“
“Of course,” Elizabeth said. “I read in the report about the time dilation field. How awful this must be for you.”
Rodney couldn’t agree enough.
“Ten years,” Elizabeth said, touching her hair. “I only had a few grays back then.”
Rodney let loose a strangled laugh, and Elizabeth smiled wryly.
“I guess that hasn’t been the only change.”
“I’ll say,” Rodney said, glancing at the flag over the door.
Elizabeth walked back around to her desk and took a seat. Rodney slid into the chair across from her, which he had done a million times before, and if he could close his eyes, it could have been yesterday, when he had made his report on the desalination tanks on the north east pier.
“I know you’re brilliant.”
“I don’t think that’s ever even been in question.” Rodney was starting to get an uncomfortable feeling that something unpleasant was going to happen.
“All right,” Elizabeth said soothingly, “I’ve always known you were brilliant, and there is no question that you could catch up with current technology and be a valuable asset to the expedition.”
“More than that imbecile Chuck!” Rodney burst out. “What were you thinking, putting him in charge, Elizabeth!”
“However,” Elizabeth continued with a warning look at Rodney, “it has been decided that you should be sent back to earth.”
“What!” Rodney thought quickly – John was on earth, but Atlantis was home.
“We’d like to run some tests,” Elizabeth said with a strange jerky head movement. “To make sure the time dilation field didn’t cause any harm.”
Rodney sat back in his chair. “But why send me back to earth,” he asked. “Can’t you do more tests here?” And bring John to me, Rodney added silently.
“SGCC wants to bring you back to earth,” Elizabeth said, steepling her fingers. “They want you to become re…assimilated.”
“What!” Rodney demanded. “I don’t need to be assimilated. I haven’t lost my mind, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth had her eyes open wide, and her eyebrows lifted high on her face, and she was nodding her head towards one of the plants on her desk.
“It’s been a long time, Rodney.” Elizabeth’s voice was smooth and calm, but she was manically pointing at her plant with one hand, while writing furiously with the other.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rodney asked crossly. “What the hell is the SGCC? And who the hell is that man in the portrait on your wall.”
Elizabeth held up her notepad. We’re being bugged, it said in large letters with a drawing of a plant next to it. Elizabeth was not quite the artiste that Lorne was.
“Stargate Canadian Command.” Elizabeth said in a cheerful voice. “Better organized and more multicultural than the original Stargate Command. And the man in the picture is the Prime Minister.”
She leaned towards the plant. “Best leader, ever. I hope he lives forever.”
Rodney squawked.
“Don’t you think so Rodney?” Elizabeth still had a firm grip, apparently, because she had grabbed his head by the ears and was pushing it towards the plant.
“Uh, yes.” Rodney assented. “Long live the Prime Minister.”
Elizabeth released her grip on his ears.
“Now, will you be able to make it down to the gate yourself, or should I send a guard to escort you?” Elizabeth’s voice was light, but there was warning in her eyes.
“I can make it down myself.” Rodney’s mind whirred. Maybe there was time to talk to Simpson about the resistance movement she had mentioned.
“Good,” Elizabeth said, standing. “I hope you’ll be able to come back soon.”
“Wait – am I leaving now?”
“Well yes,” Elizabeth said reluctantly. “Ever since we found that cache of ZPMs on the planet of the molemen, we haven’t had any problems with energy. In fact,” Elizabeth said, peering out the office window that over-looked the gateroom, “I think they’re playing earth vs. Atlantis badminton right now.”
And so, twenty minutes later, Rodney found himself stepping through the Atlantis gate for the second time in twenty-four hours, this time with a badminton birdie whizzing over his head.
*
“Saskatoon? Saskatoon!” Rodney sputtered, “Why the hell is the gate in this god-forsaken city! Antarctica was better! What happened to McMurdo?”
“Well, we needed the gate,” said the dapper, besuited liaison sent to greet him, like it was obvious, “and Saskatoon is far enough from Calgary so that the capital will be safe in case something happens, and Saskatoon is the centre of global free trade.”
“But – but!” Rodney paused. “Wait, Calgary?”
“It’s where the oil is, and Ottawa was destroyed in the fighting,” the liaison said absently as he led Rodney through corridors and up and down elevators. “Anyway, it was the only way to keep the Western provinces from separating.”
They stopp
ed in front of someone’s office, and the liaison ushered him inside solicitously.
“General Lavigne will be in to see you shortly.”
The office was spartan, with a desk and filing cabinet that looked promising, if Rodney was ever left alone.
“Well, I’ll be leaving then.” The liaison smiled at him. “Sorry to leave you alone, but we have a delegation coming in from the People’s Republic of Kentucky.”
“Uh,” Rodney said, wanting to ask when the torture would begin. So far, everyone had been perfectly and unendingly pleasant, niceness radiating from every pore. “Do you know where I’m going after my meeting with the general?”
“I’m not sure,” said the liaison, giving another cheerful smile. “I think you’re headed to one of our patriot camps. Smooth out some of those rough edges.” His smile was now showing gums. “You’ll come out the happiest you’ve ever been.”
Rodney nodded and smiled, feeling a little manic. “That sounds great!”
“Nice to meet you,” the liaison offered, “hope to see you again.”
Rodney was still grinning like a maniac as the liaison shut the door behind him.
“Christ,” he said, leaping towards the file cabinet. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
The filing cabinet’s lock was pretty good, and Rodney was about to sit down to take off a shoe to start prying it open when he brushed against it.
Something was sitting on the desk, something that felt like – when Rodney ran his hand over it - a keyboard.
Off, he thought very hard with his mind. The air conditioning turned off with a bang. But a computer appeared, shimmering into existence like the jumpers did when they turned off the cloak.
“Now this,” Rodney muttered to himself, “is very, very handy.”
It didn’t take him long to break the password – Sk8tr Boi – technology apparently hadn’t improved in the last ten years, and he was in.
*
The door opened and John was standing there with that slouch that Rodney had seen in the gate room less than a day ago when they’d gone through the gate.
And John was so familiar and so heartbreakingly different that Rodney’s carefully prepared speech went out the window as he catalogued the wrinkles on his forehead, the grey in his hair and the slight sag under the chin.
John dropped his bottle of beer.
Rodney opened his mouth, but the only things he could say to John were about the comforting mundanities of their shared life – I did the laundry before we left for the mission, Cadman invited us for dinner next Tuesday, I found your lucky underwear down the side of our bed – nothing that could span the ten years he knew it had been for John.
“Rodney?” It was barely a question, and John’s voice was shaking.
“They wanted me to wait,” Rodney said all in a rush. “So they could tell you first, but they couldn’t get hold of you, and they wanted to turn me into a manbot and so I hacked into your file.”
He threw his hands out in an expansive gesture. “So here I am!”
“I was at Anna’s sister’s wedding.” John’s fingers were twitching, and he was staring hard at Rodney but he didn’t move towards him.
Rodney nodded, not processing. John looked so old – even older than when that Wraith had fed off of him a few months ago.
“I gave you up,” John said abruptly. “I stopped looking for you.”
Rodney blinked. He hadn’t expected they’d be getting into all of this right away.
The broken beer bottle glass crunched as Rodney stepped forward – to do what, he didn’t know yet. But John’s eyes were shifting to over his shoulder, and Rodney turned to look.
“Hello!” said the woman, who was stepping out of a newly parked car in John’s driveway. She walked around the car to the passenger’s side, and pulled out several bags of groceries.
“Hi,” Rodney responded, because she was looking at him like she expected an answer. “I’m Rodney McKay.”
The woman, who was cute in a small, trim, dark haired kind of way, extended her manicured hand. “I’m Anna.” She smiled at Rodney warmly, but her eyes flicked towards John.
Rodney just stood there awkwardly and looked at her, because it was easier than looking at John. She looked like she had stepped out of a catalogue for preppy suburbanites, all hairband and capris.
“Nice to meet you,” Anna said after a while, shifting a bit under Rodney’s scrutiny, and moving back towards the car. “John, honey, could you help me take the groceries in?”
Rodney swallowed hard, and his eyes fell on John’s left hand, which was plucking at his thick strapped wrist watch – not a wristband anymore, Rodney thought stupidly – and on the third finger was the gold gleam of a wedding band.
“Oh.” said Rodney eloquently. “Oh.”
“I-“ John said, eyes darting over Rodney’s face, like he couldn’t look away, even if he’d wanted too. “Rodney, I –“
“No,” Rodney said, stumbling backwards. “It’s, just yesterday, we-“
“Rodney,” John said desperately. “Please –“
“Sweetie,” Anna Sheppard said, putting a bag in John’s outstretched hand. “The ice cream’s melting. Can you get it in the freezer?”
“I,” John said, still staring at Rodney. “Um.”
“No,” Rodney said, feeling like he’s knees were about to give way. “I’ll go. It’s time for me to leave. So long, John.”
John just stared at him with an expression that Rodney would have interpreted as want, need, love just yesterday, before allowing himself to be herded into the house by his wife.
Rodney turned and walked blindly down the front door steps and across the grass, blinking hard.
“Wait!” Anna Sheppard’s voice rang out across the lawn.
Rodney turned.
“Are you Jeannie’s brother? Her maiden name is McKay, wasn’t it?”
“Yah,” Rodney said. “Jeannie’s my little sister.”
“Well then,” Anna continued cheerfully, “say hi to her, won’t you? She’s been such a good friend to John.”
“I will,” Rodney choked out, almost stumbling with the effort of turning around. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been home.”
*
Rodney opened the door of the hotel room – it was so weird to have to open doors again, he kept expecting them to slide open for him – and John was standing there in the hallway, a duffel bag in one hand and a red handprint across his cheek.
“Hey,” Rodney said softly, half expecting John to walk past him and flop down on the bed, bitching about how the Marines were making fun of his hair again, or how he really wanted to eat marmalade in the mornings, but couldn’t because a certain somebody would die or something.
“I didn’t flip a coin.” John’s voice was rough, and he was favouring his right leg. “You know – you have to know – it’s been so long, Rodney.”
But it hadn’t been, Rodney wanted to yell. Rodney could barely remember sleeping alone anymore.
“But you know.” John swallowed. “I will always choose you. It’s always been you, I will always – ” John’s voice broke.
“I will always come back,” Rodney said fiercely. “I need you with me.”
And the kiss was desperate and messy, and Rodney tried to slow it down to take their time, but John grabbed his face, his hair, clutched at his neck. And Rodney’s cheeks were wet with tears that weren’t his, but he pretended he didn’t notice as he carded his fingers through John’s hair so, so slowly.
And later, in a scratchy hotel bed, John’s lips moving across Rodney’s mouth, a litany of ‘I love you, I’m sorry, you’re home, ohgod.’ Rodney’s hands searching desperately over John’s skin, branding him with touch. And Rodney will arch his back and moan, with John looking at him like he is precious, and will move his lips down the line of Rodney’s jaw like it is something worthy of worship. “I love you,” Rodney whispers over and over, and he will never, ever stop.
And later still, when the fighting is over, and the world is once again as free as it ever was, in their old room on Atlantis, Rodney will wake to find John smiling in sleep, leg kicked over his own, and stealing both pillows. Rodney will whisper ‘welcome home’ into the shell of John’s pointy ear and John doesn’t open his eyes, but Rodney can feel the ‘I love you’ in the breath against his cheek.
Notes on a story: So this was originally ‘Springtime in Atlantis,’ which, if you’ve read that one makes absolutely no sense. All of this was going to be the prologue, and then when Rodney showed up at John’s house in Wichita, he would have no wife but an eight year old son. And then the three of them would go back to Atlantis, and the son would be evil and it would be a comedy of sorts, which was difficult because John would love his demon spawn if it was eight years old and liked rockets and might have difficulty throwing him into a volcano. And so son got changed to daughter, and eight year old got changed to infant and John’s son turned into random alien baby with blue eyes. Unfortunately, I also had to edit out Lorne crying, which was a sad moment for me. But basically, this is a completely masturbatory story.
I have the ascension of an all powerful Canada totally mapped out in my head, and it is honestly my favorite part. You might note that Ignatieff (who was, in the second draft, mentioned in every third paragraph) is a real person – I worked on his leadership campaign (some people say he is the Hillary Clinton of the North, if Hillary Clinton were to lose to Dennis Kucinich.) He does look like he’s about to molest you in every single one of his campaign posters. One of which I have hanging over my bed. I decided he would be the leader of a despot nation because when you read his books, he is a scary man, full of quotes that I worked very hard to keep hidden from the Canadian public. His last big statement, about the Liberal party - the party he wants to lead, by the way, was “"They lay one egg (each year). They put their excrement in one place. They hide their excrement.… They flap their wings very hard and they work like hell.” True? Possibly. Now imagine that this man is also writing a book about acceptable torture, and imagine the quotage. Yes. Please stop crying. Now please go comment, so I can respect myself in the morning.
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cait
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Date: 2007-10-12 02:48 pm (UTC)*Well*. It's a future at least.
CALGARY???!!!! WTF?!! Long live Ontario! Put the stargate in the north! No one'll look for it there!
/grin
Interesting story, very crack-tastic, with enough actual angst thrown into mess you up, but made it more fun to read. I love the end, even though I kept waiting for Rodney to figure out a way back.
I've never read Ignatieff, but now that he lost to Dion (whose doing mediocre, it seems) I can totally see him leading a rebellion against the world. It would be scary to watch, but he *did* always have that gleam in his eye ... /snicker
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Date: 2007-10-25 04:52 am (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2007-10-12 05:52 pm (UTC)But I think I laughed the hardest at this line: He wasn’t given his old quarters – they had been reassigned years ago, he had been told – to a nice couple, a botanist and a soldier, whose eight kids had been relocated to Nunavut for three years in the mandatory ‘Encounters with Canada’ program.
And the end was, you know, angsty and stuff.
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Date: 2007-10-25 04:54 am (UTC)Thanks! I have decided that my goal in life is to have this story become Canada's future.
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Date: 2007-10-13 05:04 am (UTC)ZOMG. Canada as THE world power.
::wibble::
I think you broke me.
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Date: 2007-10-25 04:56 am (UTC)I'm sure the gate is right beside U of S. Because that way they get energy from all the book burnings. *nods authoritatively*
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Date: 2007-10-14 04:08 pm (UTC)Gerenal Lavigne
god worse than celine dion
*hides*
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Date: 2007-10-25 04:57 am (UTC)I WILL FIND YOU. Thanks!
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Date: 2007-10-14 08:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-25 04:58 am (UTC)Thanks!
!!!
Date: 2007-10-14 11:30 pm (UTC)And now I shall google a picture of Ignatieff, yis.
Re: !!!
Date: 2007-10-25 04:59 am (UTC)THERE IS A PICTURE OF IGNATIEFF IN MY ICON, YO
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Date: 2007-11-08 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-08 06:38 am (UTC)Now that you're back, are you reading anything good?
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Date: 2007-11-15 11:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-20 09:40 pm (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2007-11-22 04:05 am (UTC)Mostly I wanted to say that you are even more awesome than fat!Chuck and gimp!Lorne and that beautiful, gorgeous scene in the hotel, all put together. And those things? Are all really damn awesome.
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Date: 2007-11-26 06:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-27 04:16 am (UTC)Right back at you, dear.
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Date: 2007-12-11 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 05:10 am (UTC)See, Rodney wouldn't go back in time to change everything, because when he's lying in bed beside John he likes to trace the lines fanning out from the corners of his mouth, and even if he thinks everything might be different, he isn't ever going to leave *this* John again.
Great Work!!!
Date: 2008-05-26 06:59 pm (UTC)Cheers,
Re: Great Work!!!
Date: 2008-06-05 05:16 am (UTC)HOWEVER. You are right. This originally was an intro to a different story, which turned into something ridiculously different. It's called Springtime for Atlantis...and has nothing to do whatsoever with this story anymore. it's in my memories. But there is a baby. An evil baby.
Re: Great Work!!!
Date: 2008-06-05 05:39 am (UTC)Anyways, I wasn't that crazy about 'Springtime Atlantis' but loved the other one..
Hope you do, do a sequel..
Take Care,