The Silent Language of Grief (14/?)

[water4willows]

Title: The Secret Language of Grief, Book One
Characters: J. Sheppard, R. McKay, C. Beckett, E. Lorne, R. Woolsey, and various OCs
Pairings: None
Warnings: Violence, Mentions of Major Character Deaths
Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and her characters are the property of MGM.  All I lay claim to is my passion for the show and the original characters within this work of fiction
Summary: 20 years after the Wraith decimated Earth in The Great Culling, the SGC is once again ready to resume the Atlantis Expedition. Top brass wants only one man for the job, unfortunately for them John Sheppard has been MIA since the end of the War. A slip-up reveals John's current location, but will he be able to forgive the ultimate betrayal and return?

Chapter 14 - A Reprieve

John Sheppard didn't get much sleep that night after visiting Atlantis again for the first time in years. As dawn awoke on the horizon over Colorado and stretched its pale blue and purple fingers eastward and towards Cheyenne mountain, he was still sitting on the edge of his bed, contemplating the hands he had resting open and palm up against his thighs.

John's hands had been carrying a lot for a long time and looking down at them, he was almost surprised to find them empty. He half expected to see little bits of the past sticking to the sides of the tiny crevices and indentations of his palms, but they were empty. There were just the ubiquitous lines and scars that any pair of normal hands should have, crisscrossed by the highways and byways that were supposedly supposed to map his past and predict his future. John had never been one to believe in psychics or divination, but he found himself wondering just what a Palm Reader might glean from the network of life lines and marriage lines and whatever other lines that carved shallow trenches in the flesh of his hands.

For as long as John had held so much in those palms, Fitzpatrick sure was making quick work of making sure it all slipped through the spaces between his fingers and for once, that metaphor was a good thing. The things he let drip from his palms like water were meant to be let go, though sharing everything that had happened both before and after the crash with Fitzpatrick had broken open old wounds in the process. Scar tissue too, and scar tissue that had run deep, and John felt hollow almost. They were old wounds he'd been able to (mostly) exist with for at least the past 10 years or so in his exile, but now he was being expected to rip open each one again in turn and inspect them. Well, not just inspect them, but open them wide for everyone to see and poke around inside of them with blunt fingertips... and everyone was expecting him to do it, it seemed.

John had one more day of ordered rest to get through and he glanced away from his hands to make plans in his head about what he would do with this last day since there would be no getting back to sleep now. He had a feeling Fitzpatrick was going to expect as much from him physically as he was emotionally when they finally got back to the training part of all this and he was eager to focus on that for a change. He understood that he needed to deal with all the crap surrounding what had happened in the past and that it would take time and effort on his part to achieve that, but why did every day have to be a new lesson in torture? Didn't they realize he'd only just arrived? That it had been mere days since he'd been living a secluded life in rural Wisconsin near a river that was too fast and in a cabin with no electricity? Rodney, Carson, Lorne... all of them had been back for quite awhile and knew what was expected of them and it was as if they were eager to get him back to the man he used to be as soon as possible regardless of the consequences. He guessed he could take some comfort from the fact that Fitzpatrick had a psychology degree so at least he knew what he was doing, but John still felt pulled in too many different directions. He wasn't even sure that man his old friends seemed to be expecting to show up any day now, even existed anymore. He was buried too deep beneath all those layers of scar tissue that John's hands just might not be capable of breaking through.

John flexed the hands still lying open on his legs and felt the familiar tingle of his ATA gene. It always made his hands feel like they were on the verge of falling asleep and there must have been a piece of ancient technology somewhere nearby. Probably over in one of the science labs or maybe even in Rodney's quarters. And speaking of Rodney, John added the scientist's name to his list of things to do for the day. An early morning meeting had been set for today first thing to go over what was happening with the ATA gene carriers and the investigation into the sabotage, but John wanted to sit Rodney down alone and finally have a serious conversation with the man about a few things. John had questions and he was going to pin that scientist down and make him talk whether he wanted to or not. Well, he guessed that really wasn't fair. McKay had not been avoiding him - by any means - and John was probably reading more into his silence about certain subjects than was needed, but the McKay of old had been a constant chatter box and this McKay had secrets that John was going to get to the bottom of.

Releasing a breath, John pulled himself up from the bed and abandoned any notions of sleep his tired body suggested. His mind was too preoccupied for sleep and he pulled on his running gear to head to the base gym and clear his mind a bit. His novelty had yet to wear off and he got a few errant looks from the early morning crews as he made his way, but there was no one on the track when he arrived up there a while later. And yet even with the threat of company looming, John let himself take his time. Gave his bad knee time to adjust to the renewed stress, and tried to focus on the feel of the physical sensations in his body, rather than the fodder his brain tried to provide. He wasn't even supposed to be running. Carson had given him strict orders to take it easy, but John just couldn't seem to function properly during the day if he didn't get in a good solid run in the mornings. His body craved the movement and the endorphins only helped his mood so he couldn't deny it the satisfaction of the track beneath his feet, the strands of some long forgotten rock song throbbing away in his ears as the rest of the world fell away for a while. Besides, after the emotional roller coaster he'd been on yesterday, John figured he was due some sort of private creature comfort. He'd also spent most of the rest of yesterday sequestered away in his quarters, so it was nice to get out and stretch his legs... literally.

Being on Atlantis again had taxed him in ways he'd forgotten he even could be. There was so much more to it than just stepping foot onto her docks and taking a tour of the hallways he'd once called home. There was the pull of the Ancient machines around him to contest with, too. Devices that constantly reached out and demanded not only his energy, but his conscious thought as well. John knew it was only a matter of getting used to those demands again, but it was as if Atlantis was expecting him to be the same man as he was before as well and she was unrelenting in her insistence that he connect with everything around him at all times. The whole effect had him feeling drained, and yet elated at the exact same moment, because as taxing as all those sensations were, he had been reunited with his city, and, in the end, that was all that mattered. He would take all of it, the good the bad and the ugly, if it meant he got to fly that ship home again and live out the rest of his days on Atlantis where he belonged.

Oh man, was that resignation he was feeling? The beginnings of forgiveness and acceptance, perhaps? Who knew it would take a trip to the San Francisco bay to finally get him to the point where he could possibly entertain those ideas.

Landry and the SGC were giving him purpose again and John was only ever at his best when he had purpose. It was in the meandering , lingering times when he really got himself into trouble, and wasn't that just what he had been doing for the past 20 years? Meandering? The Sergeant the people after him had sent to kill him that day had failed in his mission to end John's existence, but it had been John who had let it end his life.

And speaking of his would be assassin, it still bothered him that he'd never been able to figure out why he was spared, Or why, when he finally woke up in that hospital room all alone and registered under a fake name he had no recollection of devising, there was no sign of the man that had been sent to make sure he kept his mouth shut for good. Mr. Evans. That's what the nurses had called him, and John added Evan Lorne's name to the quickly growing to-do list in his mind. If the newly minted Colonel Lorne had been involved somehow in making sure John made it out of that hospital alive, he wanted to know about it.

John finished his laps around the elevated track and stopped near the staircase heading down to the lower level to stretch and cool down. His body was a world of hurt and he'd perhaps pushed himself a bit more than he should have, but it was a good kind of hurt. The kind that reminded John that he was still very much alive and he winced even as he smiled. The people around him might be demanding too much of him too soon when it came to what happened in his past, but physically, he felt ready for anything Fitzpatrick or Atlantis could throw at him. He was whole and healthy in body after a little help from Carson, so maybe the task of healing those hurts that Beckett would never be able to pull up on any scan, was possible.

John made his way down to the showers feeling lighter than he had in a week. He was reminded again of how much space there was inside of him now that he wasn't so busy carrying around the weight of heavy memories he'd felt obligated to hold onto for 20 years. Those responsible for ordering him to end two billion lives were gone now, other people knew what had been done and were not ostracizing him for it, but instead, welcoming him back with open arms. He still had the guilt of the lives lost when he had dropped off the grid, but even that was beginning to break apart a little under the relentless insistence by Carson Beckett that it wasn't his fault. Maybe that was the secret to it then? Keep pounding it into his brain until he finally accepted it. Fitzpatrick seemed to be the expert at that, so maybe that was next in the weird program they'd started to get John back up to the task of leading an entire expedition.

"Good morning General Sheppard," a cheery young lieutenant greeted him as he made his way back to his bunk and he gave the passing solider a small smile and a nod.

Damn... General Sheppard. Now that was something else that was going to take some getting used to. John still marveled at the fact that the SGC was offering him so much. Yeah, he got that they were desperate, that the main reason they were doing any of it was because he could fly Atlantis home, but it was still nice to know he was needed. In Blue River he'd done everything in his power not to be needed so it was both a strange feeling and a terrifying one. People would be looking to him again to make the right choices, and half the people watching were probably expecting him to fail, but John was determined, now more than ever, to prove every last one of those bastards wrong.

He entered the conference room for the morning meeting a little while later with a determined gait and took a seat near Landry who was the only one in the room. He was rifling through a stack of papers and looked up at John over the thick glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"Morning General Sheppard," he said, with none of the cheer of the woman from the hallway earlier and John could immediately see why. Landry had an autopsy report open in front of him and he flipped it shut as soon as John sat down. "How's everything going so far?"

It was a loaded question and John paused to think about his answer. He only had a guess as to the level of Landry's involvement in what had happened between him and Fitzpatrick the other day in the training room, or again on Atlantis just yesterday, and he didn't want to give the man cause to go poking around any further than he already had. There were enough people around John already who knew about what he had gone through, but the way Landry was looking at him said it all. The General already knew everything.

"Manageable, Sir," he answered and Landry's eyes lit up in that amused way John couldn't decide was interesting, or irritating as hell.

"How about the trip to Atlantis?" Landry asked over the rims of his glasses. "Was it helpful?"

"Sure. Walked around a bit, rustled up a few old ghosts. You know, the usual."

"I can't imagine that must have been easy, visiting the city after all this time."

"It was Manageable, Sir." He repeated and there was that look in Landry's eye again.

"You can dispense with the formalities, Sheppard. Call me Landry, or Hank, if you wish. I'm not one to usually stand on ceremony. Hell, call me Hankie if the muse descends. I hear that's what the new batch of recruits had named me since I started blubbering the other day during their orientation meeting. Though I have a feeling the origin of the nick name comes from our own Dr. McKay." Landry smiled as he said it and John got the feeling he was genuinely amused with the moniker.

And like he could sense they were talking about him, Rodney McKay appeared in the doorway a few seconds later.

"Sorry I'm late..." he started to apologize then around to realize John and Landry were the only two in the room. "I am late, aren't I?" He glanced at his watch then lifted it to his ear. It must have stopped because the scientists started shaking his arm in an effort to restart it again as he took a seat at the conference table.

"I actually managed to beat you for once!" John ribbed over the table and Rodney shot him a scathing look.

"I suspect Colonel Lorne and Dr. Beckett will arrive momentarily," Landry offered. "And I've asked Sean Fitzpatrick to sit in as well. I hope you don't mind Sheppard."

"It doesn't bother me," he said, realizing that it really didn't. That kid was actually kind of starting to grow on him a little and he figured, after learning that his actions had robbed the man of his only family, the least John could do was tolerate his presence and let the former Seal help him get back up to par.

"You get any sleep last night?" Rodney asked John over the table a moment later after Landry went back to ignoring them and perusing his paperwork. "Because I sure didn't. I couldn't get that propulsion system leak out of my mind. Do you think if we had the engineers come at it..."

"Rodney!" John interrupted, putting up a hand, "Way too early for the geek speak, buddy."

"Alright, then you can explain it all to the IOA when we blow Atlantis out of the sky!" Rodney fired back and Landry looked up again.

"Excuse me?" He wasn't really being serious, but Rodney ducked his head all the same.

"Rodney here was just explaining to me how it's never too early for thermodynamics, General," John answered with a sly glance in McKay's direction and the scientist pulled a face. If he had an insult to lob back, he didn't get a chance to voice it, because Lorne and Carson arrived a moment later; Fitzpatrick following soon after.

As everyone settled into their respective chairs, a clear hierarchy became evident. Landry held the high place of honor at the head of the table with Rodney at his left and Carson, Lorne and then finally Fitzpatrick finishing out the line. John found himself seated alone on one side of the table and felt for a moment like was sitting before a board of directors about to pitch his case for a new direction the company should take. He knew it wasn't anything intentional, but it was funny to see how the men in the room regarded each other.

"Well, I guess I'll call this meeting to order." Landry spoke and everyone turned their heads towards him.

"Colonel Sheppard, I'm sure you must have questions about what's been going on. Are there any pressing ones you'd like us to address first?"

"I think you should just take me through it from the beginning," John replied thoughtfully. "That way maybe I can give you a fresh perspective on things if anything."

"That works for me," Landry agreed. "Colonel Lorne, why don't you take Sheppard through what you know so far."

"Stop me if you have any questions, okay?" Lorne preempted and John nodded.

"Ok, since you haven't started your seminars on the new USSF, I'll just kind of start from the beginning.

When the government finally pieced itself back together after The Great Culling, they wanted to start getting some of the more top secret programs back up and running. Since the Wraith were alien, their first priority had been the Stargate so we could reestablish our alliances in the Milky Way and beef up our defenses.

Atlantis was out of commission while she was being repaired after the crash. The USSF and the new members of the reformed IOA wanted us to start looking for people on earth who might have a strong ATA gene so that, should we not be able to locate you, we could still fly her back to Pegasus if the program progressed that far. We found a few people who were really promising. They had nowhere near the control that you had, but we had hoped that, given a little practice, they might be up to the task.

Anyway, we were working out of a facility near the Bay when the first accident happened about a year ago. A woman McKay had located in the Ukraine had just been brought on, but a few days after we set her up with an apartment in the city, her car was run off the road on her way home one night. She died in the hospital a few days later. At first we didn't think anything of it, people have accidents all the time, but then it happened a second time to another carrier and that one wasn't so pretty." John didn't miss the collective shudder that ran through the group.

"When our saboteur couldn't get the job done by running our guy off the road, he put a bullet in his head. Anders was a good guy with a family, we were all pretty shaken up after that one." Rodney and Carson nodded.

"After that it was pretty clear someone was targeting the gene carriers so we had the rest of them stay on base, but even that didn't help. Whoever it was managed to get into the facility and poison every last one of them. We set up a task force right after to investigate and try to get to the bottom of what was happening, but whoever was murdering the gene carriers knew how to cover their tracks. They didn't leave us anything to go on. No witnesses, no evidence, nothing, and, as much as I hate to admit it, we still have nothing. So, to protect the people we found next, we kept the knowledge that they even existed from everyone except for a select few, headquartered them in New York in the middle of the USSF and things have been quiet ever since."

"But they're on Atlantis now?"

"Yes, Sheppard," Landry answered. "We have the use of Cheyenne mountain again so they'll be living here and flown over to Atlantis on a need-be basis. But now that we have you back, they'll continue their work with the Ancient technology and helping get the city ready to fly. We will of course continue to give them the utmost level of protection." He finished on a promise that John suspected was aimed at him as well. He was, after all, the one with the target on his back.

"Do you think it's an inside job?" What had happened with the Wraith was like something out of a horror story and John could understand how someone within the SGC might have snapped and decided to take it upon themselves to stop the project dead in its tracks. The Atlantis Expedition was the reason the Wraith found Earth in the first place. Hell, even he'd thought about revenge over the years, though cold blooded murder wasn't really his style. Puppet to murder... well, now that was more like him.

"Most likely, or at least they had help from someone inside." It was Rodney who answered, pulling John from the thoughts that had suddenly gone dark, and he let his eyes settle on the scientist. "Otherwise how would they know who to target? The public knows that aliens came to Earth and took half the population, but the existence of the Stargate and Atlantis has never exactly been common knowledge. I mean, I'm sure someone must have leaked something after the war, but I think we would have heard about it, don't you? People usually riot first, sabotage later, don't they? My guess is that it's someone close to the project and most likely with ties to Atlantis."

"Dr. McKay brings up a good point. Lorne, has the task force completed the background checks on the new recruits and those still involved with the Stargate and Atlantis programs?" Landry asked.

Even pulled a sheet of paper from a folio he'd brought with him. "We've run checks on everyone working in the city and most of the officers in the mountain, but we still have a lot of work to do."

"Well, then I suggest that you make that your task force's main objective going forward, now that things have seemingly settled down. I believe you've also begun implementing your proposed security improvements on Atlantis?"

Lorne nodded. "We've beefed up security, installed the extra surveillance cameras and are planning out the check point system. Should be all up and running by the time General Sheppard is ready to take us back to Pegasus." Four pairs of eyes landed on him and he tried not to shift under the gazes.

"I'll get right on that," they all chuckled. "Have you thought about maybe setting a trap for your guy? Maybe we could use me as bait to lure him in somehow."

"I thought about that," Lorne answered, "but I don't think the IOA would go for it considering you're the only one we've got who can fly Atlantis at the moment."

"We could try finding a Marine who'd be willing to take on the risk," he suggested. "How about Fitzpatrick, here? He can handle himself in a fight." John joked, pointing at his still healing face and everyone hid a smile while Rodney full on sniggered and Fitzpatrick shook his head with a smirk.

"That actually might be an avenue worth pursuing should any further sabotage be attempted," Landry said, bringing them back to task. "But for now I believe the task force should continue to try and see if we have an internal issue here." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Dr. Beckett, have you come a decision yet on if you will be continuing your ATA gene research or not? I think General Sheppard will share in my eagerness to continue that line of work if it means having another person available who can pilot Atlantis."

John could tell Carson had been caught off guard, but he swallowed hard and answered. "I havena decided just yet, Sir. But rest assured, I will soon."

"I'll hold you to that," Landry said, leveling a serious glance in Carson's direction before looking away to address them all.

"Well then gentlemen, if there are no more questions," Landry's eyes landed on John and he shook his head, "I have a video conference with the IOA scheduled and will need the room."

John rose from his seat with everyone else and shook Landry's hand before following everyone out into the hall. Lorne was held back by Landry but John didn't have time to wonder about why. His mind was too busy churning over the new info he'd learned, which wasn't much, and trying to connect dots when there weren't even any dots to work with. The person who had murdered the gene carriers was laying low for the time being, but that didn't mean they weren't still lurking and John had that big target on his back now. Everyone at the SGC knew he was the only one with the capabilities to fly Atlantis home and he would have to be very careful over the next few weeks to keep his guard up. He did take some comfort in the knowledge that he was in a secure facility and there was a task force in place to vet all the incoming new recruits and returning personnel, so at least he had other lines of defense bedsides his own two hands and the friends that surrounded him.

"See you tomorrow in the training facility, Sheppard?" Fitzpatrick asked, appearing at his side and nearly startling him.

"Oh. Yeah. What time?"

"0600? That's not too early for you is it?" The kid asked almost as a dare and John lifted his chin.

"0600 it is," he agreed and headed off after the retreating figure of Rodney McKay. "Hey, Rodney!" He called out and the scientist turned around to wait in the corridor for John to catch up.

"What's up? Did we miss something?"

"No, I was just wondering if you had a minute. There were some things I wanted to talk to you about."

"About the murders?"

"No... other stuff," he hinted and McKay's eyes widened.

"Oh..." John didn't think he'd go on, but he did. "Look, could we maybe do this some other time, Sheppard? I'm right in the middle of some equations for the new wormhole drive..."

"Oh come on, buddy. Give me five minutes. You owe me some answers."

Rodney heaved an melodramatic sigh and glanced at his watch, scowling at it a moment later when he remembered that it had stopped.

"Alright, but you'll have to come down to the lab with me. Some of us still have to work," he grumbled, and set off down the hall. John followed after him and the two made their way to the science wing located in a different part of the mountain and a few levels down.

"Actually, this will work out great," Rodney said a moment later over his shoulder. "Fitzpatrick and I were talking about you the other day after you went back to your bunk and there's someone I think you should see."

"Who?" John pressed, instantly intrigued, enough so that he let the fact that Fitzpatrick and Rodney had been discussing him lie for a moment. He racked his brain trying to think of what he had said to the former Seal and who it might be, but Rodney was shaking his head.

"You're just going to have to wait and see."

John followed Rodney the rest of the way through the SGC all the while wondering if he was really ready for more surprises. He had a feeling he was going to get plenty in the conversation he planned on having with McKay and now the scientist was promising even more revelation. John was amazed his brain hadn't crashed already with all the crap people kept hefting at him and it was only going to get worse. He stepped into the science area of the SGC a few minutes later, anticipating that 'worst', but it never came. In fact, the person he saw in front of him was enough to send half the apprehension that had been hanging around him all week, packing.

"Holy crap! I thought you were dead!" He practically bellowed when he entered the lab and a now elderly Radek Zelenka slid off a stool and grabbed a cane to hobble over and greet him. The scientist's hairline had receded considerably and the goatee he sported was salt and peppered, but his eyes were still as sharp as John remembered them. He shook the man's hand with an honest to God smile, nearly pulling him into a hug, and Rodney stepped back to watch it all.

"Well, as you can see, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Zelenka smiled back.

"I can see that."

"I'm so sorry we're only now getting to say hello! I was in Europe helping track down more people with the Ancient gene but of course, had I known you thought I was dead, I would have come and found you sooner!"

"How are you even alive?" John stammered with a mix of awe and disbelief that nearly set Zelenka to laughing at him.

For 18 years he had been carrying Radek Zelenka's name around with him in that space around his heart where he kept all the names of the dead. Lifting it out to cast it away was like lifting a stone out of the bags tied around his ankles before walking out into the water: a reprieve of some kind.

"Well, after that explosion... I was okay," Zelenka explained. "All of us were actually. I lost my leg at the knee, but other than that, no permanent damage."

"This is insane! When I saw you all fall... I thought, I mean I was sure you..."

"Nope!" Zelenka smiled brightly with a shake of the head. "We all made it out. And besides, someone needed to stick around to keep Rodney's ego in check."

"Hey!" Rodney huffed. "I'm standing right here!"

"I'm sorry to hear about the leg," John offered, ignoring Rodney's irritation, and Zelenka waived a hand at him.

"Don't you go worrying about that, Colonel... Oh, pardon me, General Sheppard! I heard about the promotion by the way, congratulations."

"Thanks." He had a sneaky suspicion that Zelenka had tacked on that last part on purpose to throw off his apology. "So what have you been up to all these years?"

"I stayed with the SGC, actually. A lot of people left after what happened but we were doing good work here and I didn't want to abandon it."

"Yeah, good work if you don't mind never being able to publish and getting labeled a washout by your peers..."

Zelenka ignored the muttered comment from Rodney.

"I've got to say, General Sheppard, it's a real relief knowing you're back," Radek said genuinely and John was at a loss over what to say next. Thankfully, Rodney saved him.

"Oh give me a break. If you two old farts are finished with your little reunion, do you think you could clear the lab for me Radek? Sheppard wants to talk." John didn't miss Rodney's irritated emphasis on the last word.

"Sure thing, Rodney," the other scientist agreed but not before rolling his eyes when McKay looked away. He shook hands with John again.

"Let's talk again soon."

When the room had finally cleared and Zelenka shut the door behind him, John looked over at Rodney who was sitting on a high stool in front of a laptop typing away furiously with his back to John. He had a lot to ask about, and not all of it was going to be easy if Rodney's reaction was going to be the same as that day on the road at the gas station. He let out a quiet sigh and walked over to where Rodney was sitting. The scientist kept his back to John and didn't acknowledge him.

"I want to know about Torren John," he started and the clack of McKay's fingertips against the computer keys stilled.

"Not pulling any punches, aren't we?" Rodney mumbled sarcastically and went back to typing.

"Come on McKay," John pushed. "What happened with him?"

Rodney paused again and John pulled up another stool to take a seat beside the scientist. Rodney swiveled a little in his own chair and rested an elbow on the worn formica counter top before starting.

"Don't ask me how we got on the subject, but Teyla and I started talking about Torren one night before the Super Hive incident. She was asking me all these questions about Earth and talking about how she didn't want her son to have to grow up under the constant threat of the Wraith. She even wanted me to go talk to Woolsey for her and ask for permission for Torren and Kanaan to relocate to Earth if anything were to ever happen to her and, well, we all know what happened next. " John nodded, trying not to let the memories resurface.

"Anyway, a little while after they died, Kanaan came to me, said he couldn't deal with being on Earth and away from his people any longer but that he wanted to honor Teyla's wishes about where her son grew up. We found a couple who was willing to take him in, and he's been living here ever since." Rodney finished with a shrug

"But we destroyed all the Wraith. Why didn't Kanaan take Torren with him when he went back?"

"Well for one, we don't know for sure that all the Wraith have been destroyed. We got all the ones that came to Earth, sure, but who's to say there isn't some faction still out there that didn't receive the subspace transmission. It's not like we could fly Atlantis back and check. Only the Daedalus has been back since and that was once to drop off some people who had been living in the city at the time and wanted to go back home. But even then it was only a quick stop to a planet on the outermost edges of Pegasus that happened to have a Stargate.

...Then there was the fact that Kanaan was pretty shaken up over Teyla's death and I don't think he was too keen on the idea of being a single father."

"So he just left him?" John asked incredulously, eyebrows raising up and chasing after his hairline.

"He left him." Rodney replied and glanced away.

"Is that why you were so reluctant to tell me all of this, McKay?"

"Well, no. There's more to it, of course. When has anything in my life ever been easy?"

"What do you mean?"

Rodney sighed. "Look Sheppard, if I tell you this next part you gotta keep it to yourself, okay?"

"Who am I gonna tell, Rodney? Honestly."

"Good point... " he snorted, rubbing at the back of his neck with a palm. "Okay, so according to all official records, Torren John Emmagan returned to Pegasus with his father."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Rodney picked at a spot on the table top. "Because I was afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Look, you don't know what it was like around here back then!" Rodney responded, looking back over at John defensively. "The world was falling apart and I wasn't sure who was going to be in charge and they were already trying to say that Teyla and Ronan and the rest of the Athosians were hostile aliens!"

"Rodney, what did you do?"

"I fudged a few reports, that's all!"

"You raised him, didn't you?" John asked suddenly, the pieces slotting into place, confirming what he'd guessed all along. "Torren is the kid you wouldn't tell me about that day in the car."

"Alright, fine." Rodney threw his hands up. "Okay? Yes. Diane and I took him in and we raised him. He lives with her right now in New York and I'm trying to talk Landry into letting him come along on the Expedition. The kid should see where he comes from." Rodney turned back to his laptop on a screech of metal from his stool and John could feel the tension radiating off of him. He sat in stunned silence for a moment or two, but recovered quickly.

"Did you think I'd be mad at you or something, McKay?" He asked, noticing that Rodney had clenched his hands into fists.

"No..."

"Then what's up? 'Cause you're acting weird about something I'm glad you did." And he was glad. Rodney had given Torren a home and a family. He couldn't comment on the man's parenting skills per se, but with a wife around, life couldn't have been all that bad for Teyla's son.

"It's just..."

"What, Rodney?"

"Well, I'm not the one she wanted." his tone was borderline puerile and John furrowed his brow.

"Wanted for what? McKay, you are confusing the shit out of me."

"Teyla! If anything happened to her or Kanaan, she wanted you to take Torren." Rodney let out in a rush and John blinked over at him stupidly. What had that woman been thinking?

"Me?" He muttered in disbelief, rolling the idea of being a father around in his head, poking at it like some kind of dead unknown animal on the side of the road. It was preposterous. Uncle John, sure, but a dad?

"She was wrong, McKay." John stated firmly and he didn't let Rodney look away when he turned around again. "You and Diane gave that kid a better life than I ever could. And even if I had been around back then, I would have said the same thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Rodney," he said as enthusiastically as he could and the scientist seemed to believe him a little at least.

"So tell me about him. What's he like?"

"Well, he's smart," Rodney started, perking up a little and turning back around on his stool to face John. "I mean, Teyla was no Einstein, but I think I rubbed off on the kid at least a little in that regard. And he's strong, too; got his mother's instincts. He looks a lot like Teyla but there's some of his dad in him as well. You'd like him Sheppard, he reminds me of you sometimes. He's stubborn, and cocky, and gets on my nerves..."

"So he's, what, about 19 now?" John asked, cutting Rodney off.

The scientist nodded. "Just turned 19 about a month ago, actually and is almost finished with ROTC in New York."

"Yeah!?" John smiled, excited by the idea that Teyla's son was joining the USSF. "Wow, Rodney McKay raised a kid. Who would have thought."

"I still say it should have been you," Rodney replied, dipping his eyes away again.

"Seriously, McKay, could you ever see me as a father?"

"Yes, John." He answered, face falling just a little. "I could."


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