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FIC: Thicker than Water (3/3)
(Part One)
(Part Two)
(Part Two)
The chair would have just slowed Rodney down, and he hadn’t even looked at it as he hobbled out of the infirmary as if on fire.
A soft snitch of the rubber tips of the crutches connecting with the Ancient flooring echoed around him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough noise to drive away the jumble of thoughts and realizations crashing down on him.
He huffed as he increased his pace, barely missing a passing marine, who gave the determined and hobbling figure a curious look. He ignored the stare, trying very hard to focus on the way his shirt jammed into his armpit with each shuffling step he took.
Snitch. Snitch. Snitch.
It had happened when he was five.
Rodney had been sitting in the living room, disassembling an old toaster, trying to explain to his father the mechanisms behind the coils heating up. Bouncing Jeannie on one knee, his father had just nodded patiently and asked innocent questions, as if he had never comprehended what made his toast so crispy and brown every morning.
Rodney lost himself staring at the bundles of wire below the stripped protective covering, not noticing that his father’s questions had ceased. When Rodney finally pulled his fascination away long enough to ask why copper was used as opposed to the far more conductive silver, he could see his father staring at him with an expression he had not seen before up to that point in his life.
Later he would see it reflected on professors’ and colleagues’ faces when he corrected their wildly inaccurate equations. Disdain. Anger. Shock… and sudden comprehension.
The answers to his questions became short, terse, before the toaster was finally taken from him and Rodney was left to watch a happy gurgling baby sister. Angry shouts from the next room drove him to pull out the confiscated coils so he could try and explain their significance to the wide-eyed toddler next to him.
The cause of the incident had always eluded Rodney.
The constant pressure of his quick steps had begun to chafe at his underarms. Unconsciously his fingers tightened on the crutch supporting his weight.
Now, though, Rodney understood.
That was the day his father realized the son he was raising wasn’t actually his.
* * * * *
It was like some giant cosmic joke. John was forty years old and in another galaxy, and his father was still finding ways to interfere with his life.
Oh, John, a brochure for Harvard came in the mail. I’ve got a friend in the admissions office, so you won’t have to worry too much about that essay. By the way, John, I’ve got a general who owes me a favor. He assures me that the Air Force can just conveniently lose your enlistment papers. While we’re not on the subject, I might have forgotten to mention cheating on your mother while I was setting up our Canadian headquarters way back when. Oh, and there’s just the slight possibility that loudmouth you insist on taking with you everywhere might be your illegitimate half-brother. But it’s your life, son, and if you think it’s best…
It just went to show that Patrick Sheppard’s hold on him was insidious and as far reaching as the Pegasus Galaxy.
Without realizing it, John had found himself at the gym. He watched as a marine tried to charge Ronon, only to be clotheslined when the Satedan sidestepped the maneuver. The large man flipped his dreadlocks out of his face and tipped his chin in a greeting.
“You up next?”
Without hesitation, John shucked off his jacket and took up a spot on the mat. “God, yes.”
* * * * *
The red scrubs of the infirmary escapee were attracting too much attention, so Rodney had to swing by his quarters for something a little less conspicuous. Changing out of his pants proved too difficult as his leg was starting to stiffen up. So he settled on changing out his shirt and grabbed a spare jacket.
If he had been less harried, and not under the influence of at least one painkiller, he might have realized that green, red, and gray wasn’t exactly the most flattering combination of colors. And even if he wasn’t, none of Rodney’s many PhDs were in fashion.
He briefly considered just laying down on his bed and staying there until the Harpy Squad came looking for him. The room was far too small, though, and the bits of his past on his wall kept bringing back more memories. Rodney didn’t have a single picture of his family, but it didn’t mean that every time he looked at his diploma from Northwestern he wouldn’t remember Jeannie’s excited phone call telling him she had applied at his alma mater.
So he resumed his quest to find wide open spaces, not caring that he looked like a dying Christmas tree.
However the relative freedom of an endless hallway or the dull ache in his leg could not stop him from thinking things or asking himself a million rhetorical questions. Like why his father hadn’t left his mother earlier. Why he had waited for Jeannie to graduate high school before filing for divorce. Why he had been the supportive parent for Rodney, when he hadn’t actually been a parent to him at all. He couldn’t fathom raising a child who he knew, or at least strongly suspected, was a physical reminder of his significant other’s infidelity. There was no logic in it.
The grips on his crutches were growing damp with sweat as his ambling took him further away from the city center. He was also starting to seriously consider tottering back to his quarters to down several Tylenol from his medicine cabinet.
Of course, he could have been adopted. Maybe he had been left on a doorstep by the Kirk of Days Gone By and was taken in by the quasi-kindly Canadian couple. It was just a coincidence he shared a striking resemblance to his mother, who Jeannie was also taking a lot after. At least she had the last time he had seen her.
Then another disturbing thought occurred to him.
Did this make him half-American?
* * * * *
Blood was thicker than water.
John was never one for sentiments, especially that one.
He picked himself off the floor, feeling his abdomen protest at the movement. Of course Ronon would catch him with the same maneuver he had with the marine. “Nice one.”
“You’re distracted.”
“Am not.” John had seen far too much blood in his lifetime, and there were times it flowed just like water.
John feinted to the left, trying to dart behind his sparring opponent. Ronon seemed to anticipate this move and blocked him with a quickly extended leg. John went down in a tangle of limbs, and turned to glare at the Satedan.
“Distracted,” Ronon confirmed.
“I’m just getting warmed up,” John grumbled, getting to his feet.
Ronon was watching him, to the casual observer looking almost bored with the proceedings. The ever so slightly peaked brow told John that he was being studied closely. The pilot slowly circled his opponent, narrowing his gaze as he tried to focus on any physical cues from Ronon for his next move.
There were two problems with that. The first being that Ronon never gave anything away in a fight. John found himself on the mat again, staring at the ceiling. The second problem was that Ronon was right. He was distracted. By blood, DNA, and everything he didn’t want to think about.
A hand appeared, offering to help him up. John grabbed it without hesitation, letting Ronon haul him to his feet.
He rolled his shoulders. “Best two out of three?”
Ronon shrugged. “If you insist.”
* * * * *
Rodney wasn’t going to eat apple pie and hot dogs.
Well, okay, he was, because they were delicious, but he drew the line at doing it out of some misplaced sense of nationalism for a country he hadn’t been born to. He had never understood the whole concept of showing patriotism via food consumption. He certainly didn’t feel the maple leaf on his shoulder glow a bright proud red when he ate pancakes and maple syrup.
Dad had really liked those pancakes.
Damn it, no!
He had come out to this balcony to distance himself from his daddy issues, not wallow in them. And he might have not chosen said balcony for its view, rather that it was closer than his quarters, and the dull ache in his leg had become more of a slow throb. He probably should have gone back to the infirmary, but that would involve talking to Carson, who was entirely responsible for said issues.
Of course, there was always the possibility that he had it backwards and his dad had been the one to cheat on his mother, making Sheppard part-McKay.
But then they could also perfect travel at some point in the future. John Sheppard would then journey to the past in order seduce his poor Grammy. He shuddered at that thought. All that he knew is that he certainly wouldn’t be risking a temporal paradox unlike some Shatner-esque people he knew.
And perhaps that was a teensy bit unfair, but he had a hard time caring at the moment.
He had managed to drive away every person with any sort of family tie to him. Jeannie had held on the longest, but in the end he had ruined that relationship too. The tiny group of people he had grown close to here on Atlantis were a surrogate family, but they had never been obligated to care about him. He was starting to wonder maybe if it was that familial obligation that was tripping him up. If someone had to care because they were expected to, perhaps it injected a little bit of falsehood into all the sentiments expressed between those individuals. And that eventually built up to the point where it all fell apart.
He and Sheppard had enough lingering issues from Doranda. They certainly didn’t need any imagined obligations adding to the strain of a still-repairing friendship.
He bowed his head into the breeze that wafted over the side. “This really sucks.”
* * * * *
John caught the bottle of water that was tossed to him and drank greedily. He was parched, exhausted, and bruised. The raging torrent of emotions had quieted to a dull ache, but he hadn’t been able to beat them down completely. Now he only felt the urge to short sheet his father’s bed rather than take an actual swing at the man.
“Feel better?” Ronon rumbled behind his own bottle.
“Some,” John admitted reluctantly, eyeing the mat that had been occupied by the next set of sparring partners.
“Want to go again?”
“I say yes, but my body says no,” John cracked a smile.
“Need to talk?”
John just looked at him, and Ronon gave him half-smirk in return.
“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.”
John snorted, setting the water down in favor of grabbing one of the clean towels. “You don’t exactly strike me as the sharing type either, big guy.”
Ronon mirrored his actions as he toweled off the sweat covering him. “I’m not. Teyla’s just persistent.”
“She is at that.” The words muffled a little as he rubbed his face dry. He paused long enough to ask the next question. “What do you guys talk about?”
“Athos. Sateda.” Ronon shrugged and picked up the bottle. “The past.”
John wrinkled his nose. It struck almost too close to home, but there was no way Ronon could know what was really going through his head. “Not my favorite subject, I’ll give you that.”
“Mine either.” He paused, mid-sip as he gave his team leader a searching look. “Ignoring it doesn’t change it though.”
It sure made thinking a lot more bearable. “Your words or Teyla’s?”
“Mine.”
“Huh.” John raised an eyebrow at that. “Got a little bit of philosopher in you?”
“A little,” Ronon grinned, his bared teeth almost resembling a lion.
John draped the towel across his shoulders as he sat heavily on a bench. “What does your philosophy say about change?”
“Depends on what’s changing.”
Everything.
“Anything in particular?” Ronon asked a little too innocently.
“Nothing,” John waved a hand quickly. His hand stilled mid-air, as he realized how Rodney-like the action had been. He dropped the hand to grab the bottle of water again, and cleared his throat. “Absolutely nothing.”
“I don’t know.” Ronon twisted away so he could grab a second bottle of water. Like knives, he had an endless supply. “You’ve finally left the infirmary. That’s different.”
“I haven’t been there that much.”
His teammate shrugged noncommittally. “More than usual.”
“Lies.” Okay, half-truth. He had been there, but only to try and figure out what Carson was hiding. Part of him wished he had left well enough alone. The other part...
“All right, maybe a little,” John amended.
Ronon studied him for a moment. “You want to try to pick up Torrell’s trail again?”
John tried not to look startled by the train of thought. He hadn’t thought about that – well, since he had played folder-frisbee with Rodney. He might’ve been tempted by the offer earlier this morning, but vengeance had taken a back burner. Especially since he had new priorities. “The trail’s even colder now than it was the first time.”
Ronon grunted, as if John had just insulted his tracking skills. “Another round, then?”
“No,” John laughed dryly, “I’m done.”
“Target practice?”
“My need for violence has passed,” John assured him, leaning back into the wall and closing his eyes. Whether he liked it or not he had to think about his next move with Rodney. He couldn’t stay in the gym forever getting the stuffing kicked out of him. Eventually Ronon would get bored; and McKay deserved more than that.
“He’s going to be fine,” Ronon rumbled.
John cracked an eye open. “Who?”
“McKay.”
He wasn’t so sure about that, judging by how quickly Rodney had managed to disappear from the infirmary. “Of course he is.”
There was also a chance he was still hobbling across half the city trying to outrun the same thing that was haunting John. He let his head fall back against the wall, banging against it lightly. Maybe he just needed a few more bruises to get his head back in order.
Because shit, Rodney was his—
“What’s the problem then?”
He shot Ronon a look, partly for interrupting his train of thought, and partly because he was far too astute for being ignorant of the situation. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”
His answer as an annoyed grunt.
“The problem is… complicated.” Like the fact that John really sucked at the whole family thing. He had a whole clan of Sheppards who could attest to that. After the day was over, he wondered if Rodney would join their ranks.
“Massively complicated,” John added unnecessarily.
“You avoiding it?”
“More like delaying.”
He had just needed to clear his head before seeking Rodney out. It wouldn’t do for Patrick Sheppard to be a dark specter hovering over their inevitable conversation. Had it been anyone else but Rodney, John might have been tempted to keep ‘delaying’ the issue with Ronon.
Although if he delayed much longer, he had a feeling that Carson was going to send someone searching for the injured man. He was sure that he would have heard from Beckett if McKay had returned to the infirmary. Meaning he was still wandering around on that leg. With a sigh John levered himself up.
His body felt like one giant bruise. Next time he needed to think, he’d just take his clubs down to the south pier. “Thanks… I think.”
“Anytime.” Ronon settled back to watch the next match.
John bid him a farewell and limped out of the gym. As much as he hated the whole emotional entanglement aspect of this whole situation, part of John felt as if this was the natural course of action. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, giving the whole big brother thing another shot.
* * * * *
John finally found him on a balcony away from the city’s center, huddled in a mismatched jacket and staring blankly at the horizon. Sheppard paused at the door frame, not sure if he was welcome. Giving McKay a once over, John didn’t like what he saw. The scientist’s pallor was almost gray in the waning light and he was sitting awkwardly in order to stretch out his injured leg. He pulled the jacket around himself tighter as a light sea breeze wafted over the balcony.
“Are you just going to stand there all night?” Rodney mumbled from his roost.
“I was trying to give you space.”
“It works better without you hovering in doorways.”
“I can go.” John said and started to pull away. He wouldn’t go very far—just enough to call Beckett.
“You can stay—I think I’ve sorted through most of it.”
Needing no further invitation John joined the other man on the floor of the balcony, resting his back against the wall. The sun was just sinking beyond the horizon as dusk started to settle over the landscape. Far below, waves crashed against one of the piers, barely heard over Rodney’s jacket rustling softly in the wind.
“You stink,” Rodney muttered after about a minute of silence.
“I thought you said you had worked through—”
“No, I mean you smell,” Rodney gave him a sideways look, “worse than week old road kill.”
“I dress to impress.” John nudged Rodney’s scrub-clad knee with his own. “Unlike some people I know.”
“At least I don’t smell like dead animals.”
“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like a depressed Christmas tree.”
Rodney’s gaze drifted to his hastily put together ensemble. “It’s not that bad.”
“My retinas beg to differ.”
“So does my nose, but I’m not rubbing it in.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not—okay, maybe I am. But seriously, you couldn’t take a shower before sitting like two inches away from me?”
“I would have had time but someone didn’t take a wheelchair like they were told to.”
“You’re not my mother…” Rodney winced. It was still too soon for that type of comeback to be funny.
In the spirit of their newfound brotherhood, John decided to rescue him from the uncomfortable moment. “Takes a little getting used to, doesn’t it?”
Rodney nodded mutely and turned his gaze back to the horizon and John did the same, letting the balcony once again lapse into silence.
Well, this was awkward.
The silenced seeped away at the relaxed air established by their normal banter. Rodney made no move to strike conversation back up, gaze firmly fixed away from John. If he waited for the other man to start again, it was likely that they would be here all night. Considering that Rodney’s pasty complexion had absolutely nothing to do with the amount of time he spent in the sun, expediency was probably a good idea.
Meaning it was up to John to lead the conversation.
Not exactly his strong point. After a few clumsy and thankfully silent failed starts, he decided to start vague and work his way from there.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“It hurt?”
The molding on the architecture poked at one of the fresh, Ronon-acquired bruises. “You have no idea.”
Rodney cracked a smile at that.
John decided to get back on topic, because it wasn’t getting any easier to talk sitting out here than it had been with Ronon in the gym. “We’re not our parents and we already don’t follow in their footsteps.”
Rodney didn’t respond, forcing John to continue with his clumsy monologue. “Why let decisions they made more than thirty years ago determine what we do?”
“Oh, thank God,” Rodney breathed.
Some of the weight that had been sitting on John’s shoulders fell away at the relief in Rodney’s voice. It seemed like they were on the same page so far. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” the scientist let out a shaky laugh, “you see I’ve been terrified of having to face this.”
“I know. Me too.”
“I’m just glad we’re in agreement here.” Rodney forged ahead before John could reply. “I mean, if we don’t do anything it’s not like anyone would know. Other than Carson and his questionable DNA tests, which I still would like a second opinion on, but that goes against the whole not doing anything. Anyway, it’s not something we have to share.”
The beginnings of something started gnawing deep in his gut, but Sheppard ignored it. “Well, it’s not like making a public announcement would help things here.”
“It’s better this way,” Rodney continued, either not hearing or choosing to not acknowledge the caution in John’s tone. “I mean really, what would it change, pretending to be brothers? I’m not one for overly-maudlin sentiments, you know that. But we’ve just gotten through that Doranda mess. Despite your gravity-defying hair and fondness for death wishes, I like being your friend.”
At the last statement Rodney finally looked up, giving John an intense, honest, and very raw look.
He wanted to say something in kind, but couldn’t seem to wrap his tongue around any of the sappy responses that would be appropriate. So, he went with what was comfortable: humor. “Well, I’m not such a bad guy.”
“No, on a good day you’re almost tolerable,” Rodney mustered a ghost of his usual cocky grin. “I’m… I’m just glad we’re going to let this go.”
Rodney was just winding up, effectively cutting John off from getting any word in edgewise. Or perhaps that was the idea.
“This would just be one more thing I’d have to fit into my life. I mean, I’ve already got the whole unappreciated genius thing going on. Then there’s the overworked supervisor part. People can’t do a damn thing without me holding their hands. Zelenka’s like a lost puppy, I swear.”
It seemed between the cool sea air and the emotions he was expounding, Rodney was growing paler by the minute.
“Then there’s the other half that’s waiting for me to freak out or relapse into the whole enzyme addiction. Which is stupid, because I’m far more likely to destroy another solar system—”
John stopped the self-depreciating rant with a curt, “McKay!”
Tired blue eyes focused on him, and the words stopped spilling over. John could feel the gnawing in his stomach turn into a cold, dead void inside him even as he plastered an easy smile on his face – and told Rodney exactly what he needed to hear.
“Don’t worry about it.”
A good portion of anxiety poured out of the other man at those words. Despite the ache deep in his gut, that was only partially due to his workout with Ronon, John knew he had made the right decision.
“You look like shit, by the way.”
“You’re a real cheerleader, you know that, Colonel?”
“It’s my job.” John rested a hand on Rodney’s shoulder, ignoring the annoyed look tossed his way. “I think you’ve used up your free time.”
“I’m fine here, thanks.”
“Yes, that’s why you’re turning a lovely shade of blue. Really clashes with the whole Christmas theme you’ve got going.”
“No one asked your opinion, Lieutenant Colonel Fashionista.”
“I wonder what Carson would think of it.”
“Snitch.”
“One day, you’ll thank me.” Using his grip on Rodney’s shirt, John managed to get them both to a standing position.
“Gestapo.”
“You know, some people might show some appreciation for all of this effort.”
“They’re not being manhandled.”
A hiss escaped the scientist as he settled too much weight on his bad leg. Immediately John’s hand started snaking towards his earpiece.
“I’m… I’m fine.”
“You sound fine.”
A tiny, niggling voice in the back of John’s mind insisted that there was something else he could say or do. He quickly squashed it down as he half-dragged Rodney back towards the infirmary.
He was looking out for the welfare of his family, which was more important than any paltry unmentionable sentiments.
As their journey progressed, Rodney began to lean onto John heavier. He pretended not to notice how the scientist’s grip tightened with each step, and instead wondered aloud if tinsel would go with Rodney’s ensemble.
Because in the end, that was what a real brother did.
* * * * *
“He’ll be all right,” Carson said quietly as Rodney lost the battle with sleep, slipping into a light slumber. “Looks like he just overexerted himself.”
“Big surprise there,” John muttered, arms crossed.
“You two work things out?”
John didn’t look at Carson, just stared intently at the dozing figure on the bed. “Yeah, we did.”
Carson had been afraid that their friendship might suffer because of his findings, especially when they didn’t reappear after a long while. He had been about to send out a search party for his wayward patient when Sheppard had finally brought Rodney back, each sniping at the other like usual. The bickering was so normal it was actually a relief. Carson secretly hoped that it might even be a sign of a forming kinship between the two.
“That’s good,” Carson smiled, but it died away as tension radiated from the man standing next to him. “John?”
“We,” the word was almost spat, “have decided to let it drop.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we,” there was less hesitation on the word this time, “don’t need any DNA tests to tell us how to act.”
Carson shook his head slightly. “That’s not—”
“Just make sure those papers are destroyed.” John’s pursed his lips into a thin line. “He—we don’t want this coming up again.”
“John…”
“Carson,” he cut the other man off, “it’s fine.”
With John Sheppard one had to listen for more than what he just said, because the man was the master of talking around a matter. And the implication behind that statement didn’t sit well with the Scot at all.
“No,” he snapped back, “it is not bloody ‘fine’ or even remotely fair to you. You daft, self-sacrificing—”
“Last week you told me to finish War and Peace.”
Carson blinked, stopped mid-lecture by the abrupt change in subject. “What?”
“After the time dilation field,” John’s voice had quieted, “you told me to distract myself with a good book.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“I don’t read when I need a distraction.”
Carson shook his head, not following the logic.
“To keep from going back—” One of John’s hands gestured helplessly, trying to illustrate what he couldn’t put into words. “I... I don’t read, okay?”
It clicked then. What John was saying, or not saying in this case, as well as the reason for the absurd amount of childish antics over the past week. “Oh.”
“Tolstoy’s dead.” John flexed his jaw. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“Neither is he,” Carson motioned to the bed.
“The decision on what to do is ours,” and at that John made sure to differentiate that he was only including Rodney, not Carson, in that ‘ours’. “Right?”
“Yes,” Carson agreed, reluctantly, “it is.”
“Then it’s a closed subject.” John gave the Scot a long, hard look. “Never to be opened again.”
“But—”
“Closed,” John insisted.
Carson sighed and held up his hands in surrender. “Aye, it’s closed.”
Rodney muttered something incoherent in his sleep as he shifted restlessly on the cot. Sheppard chewed the inside of his lip as he watched, looking as if he was having some sort of internal debate. Carson let him be and instead busied himself with checking a nearby chart. After a few moments he stole a glance back in John’s direction. The pilot started towards the bed but stopped after a few steps. A soft, resigned sigh emanated from him as he ran a hand through his hair.
Carson pursed his lips. The hand remained tangled in the pilot’s hair as he looked at the sleeping scientist with a troubled expression.
Despite the vehement insistence on the whole matter being resolved, Carson wasn’t so sure. From John’s nervous actions and Carson’s own experience growing up in a large family, it seemed that the line between friendship and kinship was often blurry at best.
Sensing his gaze, John looked up at Carson. He quickly dropped his eyes back to the charts, feeling the aggravated stare bore into his back.
From firsthand experience, Carson also knew that “closed subjects” often had a way of reopening themselves… and usually at the most inopportune time.
End
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This was a bad shock esp since we don't know about Rodney's past and this gave us a little peak into it.
I really feel bad for John, I think he would have liked to have shared this and not buried it like some 'bad' secret to be forgotten. It was like Rodney took the choice away from Sheppard and that's left me feeling a litle peeved at him and sad after the whole brighter side of the story.
Its not a neat, happy ending one that snuck up on me..... I guess kind of like life?
Enjoyable read.
no subject
In my mind, Rodney was definitely leading that conversation to where he wanted it to go. It's way too big of a thing for him to deal with immediately, especially since at this point he still hasn't patched things up with Jeannie. But yes, poor John.
I wanted to try and end on a higher note, but... it's a complicated sort of mess. I think the boys will eventually get to that point, but it'll take some time, especially since they both have so much family baggage.
Glad you enjoyed, even if I sort of knocked the wind out of you with the ending!
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I was so nervous about the ending, mostly because I wanted to "go there" (because no one ever does), but I usually really hate to end things so depressing. My poor beta was just left staring at the computer for several minutes on end, because I didn't warn her that I was going for the more realistic type of ending. (Actually I wound up tacking on that final scene because after much discussion we decided it needed a little more of a wrap-up, at least for John and Carson).
Glad it worked though!
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I love that the banter (which is more than we see in canon and made me think this was a 'not-to-be-taken-too-seriously' type story - how wrong was I?) has an explanation that is sound and makes it work. The emotional fall out is very well written and I think you've got Rodney and John's reactions down great (and now I know what that letter-rant to John was about! LOL! But you managed to get the level right).
The whole thing is so well written and you've left me wanting more ... and more! Go on, please?
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I know what you mean, that was my original thought when I saw the challenge. Then after a few minutes of pondering I thought it might be interesting to try and see what would happen if the characters were allowed to guide the story in that kind of situation. I mean, I love a happy ending, I really do, but the characters need to arrive there on their own. It's one thing to discover you have a hitherto unknown half-sibling when you're a kid (like I did), but when you're in your thirties and your forties? That's huge.
(which is hypocritical to a certain extent considering The Cousins Series that I've written!).
But I adore the Cousins Series, therefore it doesn't count ;)
This story has been through many, many different drafts and incarnations, although the banter is the thing that's survived each draft. (That, and the bacon fight). I like that the explanation works, because I didn't want to beat people over the head with schmaltzy sentiments, but still have the feeling there.
(and now I know what that letter-rant to John was about! LOL! But you managed to get the level right).
Pfft, you have no idea how many times I had to revise John's scenes with Ronon. I was ready to bludgeon either him or myself with Rodney's crutches at the time I wrote that letter ;) I'm so glad that it came out 'right', because that man is so complicated it's frustrating at times.
As for wanting more... would it make you happy if I told you I always envisioned this as the first in a long series?
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SQUEEEEEEEE!!!
(I think you can take that as a yes!)
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Nope, but I'm suspecting it's like my time travel story (only with mine I have no idea if it'll ever get past those first two scenes as I can't decide which plot to choose...) that I started sometime around season 3 (and I'm thinking early not late S3)...
Or that other one that I've been trying to write since (I think) just after S2...
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As for your time travel story... I say start on both plots ;) One will probably emerge as the one you want to use, and if not... then you've got two!
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I had a big long ramble composed about wanting more and speculating on how it might go in the future, but then I saw your comment below about working on a sequel and so ... *tosses ramble out window* All I can say is, I'm delighted by that; I yearn for closure and I would just love to see more with the newly-revealed brothers working through their issues! (And seeing Jeannie and maybe even Dave Sheppard's reactions to it would be delightful as well...)
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The snark was my absolute favorite part of this to write, because I literally just let them go at each other before I got tired of it (I did not know that point existed, but apparently it does)
The ending hurt -- and yet I thought it was in character for both boys, that Rodney is afraid of losing his friendship with John if he accepts the brother relationship, while John feels like Rodney's rejecting him just like his family did (maybe I'm reading too much into it, but that's how it looked to me?)
Not reading too much, because that is exactly what I was going for! Rodney the pessimist only seeing how this could hurt him (and desperate to not lose John like he's lost Jeannie... even if the reasoning makes no sense to someone not on painkillers or with Rodney's past), and John the optimist -- seeing the potential for this up to the point where Rodney verbally sucker punches him.
I see Jeannie and Dave having a very big role in the future, Jeannie especially (and much sooner than M&MM... in a way). I waffled on Dave for a while, mostly because I was bitter on how his presence Jossed my plan for John's development on this, but I've come around to the idea of him. I can see him being very guarded at first about an "interloper" trying to assert himself into the family, wondering if Rodney's just in it for the money. And John being caught in between his "old" brother and his "new" one.
(And I just had to snip a few rambles of my own, heh). The boys have so many issues, but I see them eventually working through them to establish a stronger working and personal relationship (and hopefully doing it in a way that doesn't seem to marginalize Teyla and Ronon's impact on the team). Can you imagine how "Irresponsible" would play out if Kolya found out that John and Rodney were brothers?
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And the challenge, you pulled it off 100%. It's so realistic, you made me feel bad that Rodney missed his father's funeral (even if that hasn't happened yet. Oh, and won't Dave be pleased: another weird, "classified" brother who might contest the will and upturn his little kingdom *g*.)
Please turn this into a long series! :)
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And yeah, if it were to follow back alongside canon as is, it would make "Outcast" that much more sad. Ignorance is bliss, right? ;) I can see Dave having a tiny conniption fit with another brother added to the mix, especially one he has no connection to.
Please turn this into a long series! :)
As long as the muse is willing, I'm going to do my darndest :)
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there’s just the slight possibility that loudmouth you insist on taking with you everywhere might be your illegitimate half-brother Another great sentence. I especially like what it says that John insists on having Rodney with him, that he actively chooses to have him around.
Without realizing it, John had found himself at the gym. Of course John Sheppard chooses violence over dealing with, *gasp*, feelings.
it didn’t mean that every time he looked at his diploma from Northwestern he wouldn’t remember Jeannie’s excited phone call telling him she had applied at his alma mater Awwww!
Well, okay, he was, because they were delicious Thankfully, Rodney has his priorities straight.
The tiny group of people he had grown close to here on Atlantis were a surrogate family, but they had never been obligated to care about him. Oh, lord, poor Rodney. That he thinks being related will make John have to care about him, and thus care for him in a less meaningful way is so very sad, but definitely makes his decision to let matters drop make sense.
“At least I don’t smell like dead animals.”
“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like a depressed Christmas tree.” I just love that they’re both still such ten year old boys.
I mean really, what would it change, pretending to be brothers? And neither of them has enough experience with functional families to see that they’ve spent the past two years getting along very much like siblings might.
Despite the ache deep in his gut, that was only partially due to his workout with Ronon Oh, poor John.
He was looking out for the welfare of his family, which was more important than any paltry unmentionable sentiments. Who needs words when your actions can speak for you.
“I don’t read when I need a distraction.” This is perfect! It makes so much sense that John and Rodney snip and snap at each other to take their minds off of all the big bad that is there lives.
Carson also knew that “closed subjects” often had a way of reopening themselves… and usually at the most inopportune time. Might this mean a sequel? Please?
I’ve very much enjoyed this fic, and I think that you believably came up with a way to make John and Rodney related. I hope that you some day continue in this universe, because I’d love to see how everything changes for John and Rodney being related (or does it?). Because it’s them, and of course the issue is going to come back and bite them hard in the ass, because someday one of them is going to need an organ, or there’ll be some Ancient device which can only be activated by relatives, or something. (How do you see Jeannie and Dave dealing with this knowledge? Or Patrick Sheppard, assuming someone tells him before his death?)
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Oh yes. The way that he worded his short explanation of his past to Sam in "Redemption" fascinated me. It never sounded like real physical or direct emotional abuse, but something that would definitely have a negative impact on his young mind.
Another great sentence. I especially like what it says that John insists on having Rodney with him, that he actively chooses to have him around.
Theirs is not a passive friendship, there's far too much bickering and ribbing and playfulness for that, even after "Trinity". Now only if the boys could properly communicate that to each other, they would have avoided that whole emotional mess at the end.
Oh, lord, poor Rodney. That he thinks being related will make John have to care about him, and thus care for him in a less meaningful way is so very sad, but definitely makes his decision to let matters drop make sense.
It's a very... convoluted way of thinking, but when I tried to seriously put myself in his head, I couldn't see him dealing with this very well, especially at this point in his life (after Project Arcturus, before the big rescue in "Grace Under Pressure", and way before he and Jeannie resolve things).
And neither of them has enough experience with functional families to see that they've spent the past two years getting along very much like siblings might.
And that's it right there. They're siblings, even before they're siblings. Although it's John "Dear god a hug! Run!" Sheppard and Rodney "I broke up with her? Really?" McKay, acknowledging emotional attachment isn't exactly their strong point.
This is perfect! It makes so much sense that John and Rodney snip and snap at each other to take their minds off of all the big bad that is there lives.
It was such a mushy sentiment, but I really wanted to express it without falling into the usual cliche or make anyone act OOC. John seems to have a very hard time talking about emotional issues, especially by his stumblng declaration of family in "Sateda". And I totally see Rodney, on some level, recognizing that John needs the escape and rises to the baiting rather than telling him to knock off and act his age.
I've very much enjoyed this fic, and I think that you believably came up with a way to make John and Rodney related. I hope that you some day continue in this universe, because I'd love to see how everything changes for John and Rodney being related (or does it?).
Oh yes, things definitely do change (and there are definitely going to be sequel). As much as Rodney may want, it's not something that can easily be forgotten, even by him. Or should I say especially? Or does that give too much away? Because it's these particular two chatty-yet-closed-off individuals, there will be some definite... complications in their very near future.
(How do you see Jeannie and Dave dealing with this knowledge? Or Patrick Sheppard, assuming someone tells him before his death?)
I see Jeannie taking this news a lot better than Dave, because she seems to be the kind of individual that can handle this sort of news better. Dave came off to me as very standoffish in "Outcast", and probably not particularly welcoming to the idea of an additional sibling, one that he didn't grow up with and that might try horde his way in on something that's "not his", be it family or inheritance. He might come around eventually -- or not. I think it would probably depend on the circumstances.
As for Patrick "Kirk 1.0" Sheppard, he... doesn't quite show up in the sequel, but he does at the same time. Which is incredibly vague and confusing to anyone not inside my head (or who doesn't have access to my hastily scribbled story notes). I'm not sure exactly when it'll be finished, but I'm hoping before the end of the year.
And thank you again for such detailed feedback! It really makes my day to know someone enjoyed it, and I'm probably more fond of this particular story than I should be, so I'm glad that it worked for you too!