![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
John flipped through the signals, more faint and garbled now that he was no longer on Xen. The older the transmission, the worse the static. Not that John was interested in sports or TV dialog. The news was always the same, always full of conflict, until he finally stumbled on a history program full of promise. The more he listened, the harder his heart leaped in his chest.
The Wraith gone, wiped out by plagues, starvation, and reprogrammed Asurans. Asurans wiped out by a master virus. The Ha'kaard defeated by insurgents among their ranks.
“ ... the Sheppard virus,” John stiffened, “severely crippled both Asuran and Ha'kaard vessels. Twenty years of combined efforts by humans and Gathaan had finally paid off. The virus was the brain child of Dr. Rodney McKay, who continued work on the virus until his death eleven years from its completion.”
John's stomach twisted as though a fist had slammed into his gut.
“Dr. Rodney McKay had been a member of the first expedition to the Pegasus Galaxy. He was a major contributor in the war against the Wraith and Ha'kaard, his largest contribution the Sheppard virus, named for fellow expedition member and friend, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. Lt. Colonel Sheppard was killed while preventing Atlantis from falling into enemy hands. Dr. McKay was ninety-two at the time of his own death...”
John cut the transmission.
He ended up in McKay's room, sitting on the floor, his back to the bed.
“Guess you couldn't sit around, waiting forever,” he said, his smile so rueful it ached. “Not that I blame you. Although you missed out on one hell of a story. And I can't...” his bottom lip trembled. “I can't come where you are, what with the whole immortal thing.”
John took a deep, shuddery breath in hopes of reigning in any amount of control he had left, but his eyes still blurred and his chest cinched until he could barely breathe.
For one whole minute, he expected to see Mi'sia come through the door, sit next to him, or take his hand and lead him back to their room, where they would perform the tea ceremony as John remembered Rodney. Then, when they went to bed, Mi'sia would comfort him with a touch...
John lowered his forehead to his knees and let the tears come.
“What do I do, Rodney?” he asked. “Where do I go?” His thoughts wandered to the self-destruct code, instant death, with no pain. Then his mind shifted to a war long over, and a place he could go back to.
Place, not home. Home was gone.
He tried to think what Rodney would say, do. There would be awkward comfort, then an awkward suggestion of seeing what else was out there, because Rodney was too damn curious not to keep going. Had it been Rodney instead of John who had taken Atlantis and been given the means to live forever, he would explore the universe until the day it imploded, exploded, or did what ever the hell universes did when they died.
Explore the hell out of the universe, Sheppard! So why the hell not?
And John did. Like a man driving reckless down the highway just to feel the wind on his face, he traveled beyond the worlds marked on the Xen star-charts, leaving the cluster of civilization for the wilds. He visited worlds in the making, watching, from behind the safety of the shield, rivers of lava and rippling, poisonous air. He found a world of giant trees big as skyscrapers, where every creature was the size of an elephant or larger, and rodents the size of horses.
His favorite world was a planet of islands suspended in the air by means John didn't have the skills to fathom. Transparent manta rays that shimmered prismatic weren't shy around John. They touched his face and neck with their soft whiskers and liked it when he caressed their dolphin-smooth backs. And when one let him climb onto its back, he was taken for the ride of his life through jungles of thin trees tall as towers, over emerald hills then out into the wide, endless blue with its mountains of clouds. John arched with his head back and whooped until his throat burned, above the roar of the wind whipping his clothes and hair and the thunder of his own wild heartbeat. If it were possible, he hoped to never come down.
John spent a long, long time on this world, making it his rest stop when he needed time away from space.
He hovered above worlds similar to Jupiter and Saturn, watched strips of multicolored clouds boil and twist, and hurricanes live and die from the safety of orbit. He came upon gas giants with habitable moons, and habitable planets with moons of gas and clouds. He took video pictures with the Ancient version of a camera, samples of plants and water that he put in cold storage, and kept a log using the Ancient version of a recorder – it wasn't really exploring unless you took notes.
Living creatures weren't resigned to existing on a planet. Creatures like giant transparent flat worms undulated through the vacuum of space, moving in herds, shimmering quicksilver when Atlantis' lights skimmed over them. When the city-ship next pulled out of hyperspace, John immediately jumped back in on seeing a distant slug-like mass gently floating toward him and getting bigger by the minute.
Worlds of forests, worlds of water, worlds so like earth and worlds no author or artist of sci-fi could begin to imagine. There was no end to what could be found, but that didn't stop John from trying, just to see if there was.
--------------------------------------------
There was always enough air behind the shield lasting long enough for John to stand out on the balcony when he returned to orbit.
“Where to today?” he muttered. He leaned forward, both arms on the rail with data-tablet in hand. The world below him must have been fairly young – mostly water with a few smatterings of volcanic islands. John flipped through Eekala's star-charts, her people having explored farther than any other race.
“Been to that one. That one, too.” He grimaced. “That one, too, and never again...” Then he reared his head back.
There wasn't a single planet left unmarked as explored. John looked up into the starry blackness.
“No way.” He'd explored them, all of them. Every single planet on the star chart. Probably not every single planet in the galaxy, but he'd learned the hard way not to play Russian roulette with infinite destinations.
“Now what?”
There was a whole universe of galaxies out there: planets and people and things impossible to imagine. An infinity of things to see, discover, learn, on and on, forever and ever. A never ending adventure.
John stared into eternity and all it had to offer. Then dropped his gaze to the floor.
He couldn't do it. Just thinking about it made him so damn tired, a weariness that bled to the bones and beyond. He felt suddenly insubstantial, like nothing more than a single grain of sand drifting on a strong current.
He couldn't go on and didn't want to. Didn't want to start all over, to be alone then not alone then alone again. No more uncertainty, heartbreak... he wanted to go home, wherever home was, whatever home was, a place to stop and never move again.
John Sheppard was done exploring. Turning his back on infinity, he went inside to plan his way back.
--------------------------------------
John watched from the balcony as Atlantis settled on the water. He wondered if the planet was still called Lantea or had been given some twice-as-horrible name that was either Atlantis-related or the name of some war hero. He half-expected some kind of security fanfare over touching down so he wasn't surprised by the approach of a 'jumper twenty minutes later. He was bemused that the 'jumper, bright silver and sleeker than his own, was alone.
The voice asking for permission to land was female.
“Need directions to find your way?” John asked.
“Oh, no, no. Most city-ships are built using the old designs. I must say, this one is very classic... oh! what lovely plants.”
John grinned, imagining her mouth in an “O” of surprise over the vine-choked walls. He hadn't seen any reason not to let the plants run amok so long as they didn't find their way into vital systems.
The woman – small, light, with a round face framed by perfectly straight auburn hair that stopped an inch above her shoulders – wandered in, timid and curious, dressed in a long skirt, shirt and jacket varying in shades of beige and tan. She startled with a small yip of an “Oh!” when she saw John sitting casually in front of the Stargate, upturned legs supported between his arms clasped at the hands. He rose and shook her hand.
“Mary Collins,” she said. “Sorry for dropping in like this but I saw her... uh, that is to say... your ship, as it was touching down while I was doing my survey.” Her neck popped, rotating her head to take the entire floor in. Her hand was still clasped in John's. “I've only seen designs like these on file in the old archives.”
Mary finally released John in order to circle the gate. “Only the Ancient-made models come with a 'gate. Where did you come by this one? Uh... the city, not the 'gate, of course,” she said with a light chuckle.
John's gaze wandered the gate-room floor, and for the first time in years, decades... centuries... he felt incredibly nostalgic, and it made his eyes water. “I sat in a chair.”
“Pardon?” The woman asked.
John shook his head, blinking the moisture away. “Stumbled on it.” He circled his hand ceiling-ward. “Been wandering in it ever since.”
“Well, it's in excellent condition, I must say. I'm somewhat of a history buff, and Ancient-designed ships fascinate me. These days it's more about functionality than form. You don't get the intricate architecture and design like what you find here...”
John stopped watching, and listening, and wandered out onto the balcony. He leaned on the rail, staring down at the sea and white sunlight flashing off carbuncle waves, and wondered if Rodney's whale was still around.
He was so damn tired, like the very air could crush him. Looking down at his arms, it didn't surprise him to see them trembling.
It was a few minutes before the woman came out and joined him.
“So sorry. I thought you were still inside -”
“What's the date?” John said.
“The date? Oh, uh... well it depends on who you speak with. By Earth standard time it's April fifth. By Athosian, it's -”
“The year.” When the woman gave him a baffled look, John added with a smile, “Like I said, been wandering. Kind of lost track of the time.”
“Oh, um... 2437.”
Breathy laughter chuffed from John's chest. Four hundred years, more or less. It took four hundred years to explore a new galaxy. Crap, no wonder he was so exhausted.
The woman returned to prattling on about Atlantis' design, asking if the 'gate still worked without giving him the chance to answer.
“...these older models last forever so I wouldn't be surprised if the consoles didn't need to be replaced -”
“Do you want it?” John said.
“A few crystals might... what?”
John slapped the rail. “This ship.” He turned to look at her. “You want her?
Mary balked so white that for a moment John thought she was going to pass out. After several seconds of gaping like a dying fish, she choked out a nervous twitter of a laugh. “I – I can't... I don't have the means... there's no way I can afford this...”
“It's free,” John said. “All yours if you want. You obviously know your stuff, so better you than someone who would end up selling her for parts. She's good for another couple of thousand years and she's got a ton of great info in her database. I mean, you don't have to take her if you don't want. I just, you know...” he shrugged, “want to leave her in good hands. The best, if possible. She's my home... she's been my home pretty much forever.”
Mary blinked large, brown owlish eyes at him. “Are... are you leaving? Looking for a newer model?”
John's gaze drifted past her to the silver-bright towers and the sea hugging her piers like an old friend welcoming her home. He could feel Atlantis vibrate, like breathing, like a heart beating, beneath his hand, his feet. He couldn't recall a time when he hadn't been wrapped in the warmth of her existence.
“I'm tired,” he said. “I just want her to be all right.”
The woman nodded stiffly. “All... all right. I can assure that. I know some people who would do a far better job than me of looking after her. It looks so much like the pictures of the last Ancient-made city-ship, Atlantis. Beautiful ship, Atlantis. I'll contact them right away.”
John nodded. “Good. Feel free to look around, poke through the database.” He pushed away from the railing toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Mary asked.
“To rest,” John said. “I'm really tired.” He drifted past the control room, down the copper corridors with their bubbling pillars, transporters and soft lights. He felt like he was floating, the ghost of Atlantis, an eternity of haunting ahead of him.
When he finally reached his room, he moved like a man through water as he laid himself down on his bed and curled on top of the blanket. He stared out the windows at the blue of the sky and deeper blue of the sea and thought that a body may not age, but a soul still does, and solid bones and skin can still feel like dust.
Damn it, all he wanted to do was sleep. Just sleep.
John closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump of his own heart. “Sorry I didn't come back in your lifetime, McKay,” he muttered. “Better late'n ever, I suppose.”
His heart slowed, evening his breathing. He could feel his body grow heavy as if melting into the bed, through it to melt into the very floor, molecules joining to become one.
“I was gonna go to another galaxy, explore the hell out of the universe just like you asked... there's so much out there, McKay.” he smiled. “You would have loved it. I was... I am just... too tired. I'm sorry.”
He exhaled, long and slow, and wasn't sure if he inhaled or not. All he could hear was the beat of his heart, all he could feel was its gentle knock against his ribs.
“You would have loved it out there.”
“I imagine.”
“If you didn't die of hypoglycemia first.”
Rodney snorted. “Of course. Knowing my luck, that would have been the case.”
“Maybe if you'd been made immortal.”
“Even then....”
“I'm sorry I didn't come back.”
“Will you stop apologizing for that? Yeah, I hoped. Every night I'd search the skies, listen to transmissions, hoping while pretending to be realistic. Me and Teyla. Even when we thought the practice went out of habit... we still found ourselves watching, sometimes. We don't leave our people behind and all that. Forgetting is still leaving someone behind.”
“Thus the tea ceremony. Talking to walls. Like hell I was going to let myself forget.” John opened one eye, squinting it at Rodney leaning against the wall with his arms folded, smug as always. “So, you and Teyla, huh?”
McKay shrugged. “Who'd have thought it, am I right? I think I was the most baffled by it... before, during, after. She actually did the proposing. I kept thinking of it like a last ditch effort to keep the team together but... it wasn't bad. She knew how to put up with me, how to handle my flaws, never let them get in our way. And I was so worried about screwing things up and breaking her heart, I did what I could to keep that from happening. It never did, so... I guess we both did right by each other.”
“And you came to love her.”
“I always loved her... like a friend. It did become something more, though.”
John smiled. “That's what I meant.”
Rodney pushed away from the wall and approached the bed with hand held out. “So, rested enough, yet?”
John took it, and Rodney pulled him to his feet.
“Yeah,” John said. “I am.”
“Good, because Ronon and Teyla are getting antsy, and you know how Ronon is when he's impatient.”
“I haven't forgotten.”
They moved toward the door, John glancing over his shoulder at the military crisp, made bed situated below the Johnny Cash poster he thought he'd thrown away when it became too decrepit to keep on the wall. “Ascension has gotten quieter.”
Rodney scowled. “Death does not revolve around Ascension. Besides, who wants to spend an eternity in a damn cafe? This is better. More freedom, less glowy-tentacle crap.” They left John's quarters to be joined by Ronon and Teyla waiting outside. “No meditation.”
“Took you long enough,” Ronon said, then gave him a light nudge to the ribs and a knowing smile. “Your wife is hot.”
“Yes,” said Rodney, “not unattractive for someone without a single natural hair on her body. The whole Sinead O'Conner look works for her... if you're into that kind of thing -”
“She is indeed very lovely,” Teyla quickly interjected, “and is most anxious to see you.”
“Carson won't stop asking her questions about her physiology,” Rodney continued. “The man is relentless, on any plane of existence.”
Ronon snorted. “Like you weren't annoying that silver-haired girl about what it's like being hatched from an egg.”
“What? It's an innocent enough question. Besides,” he clapped John on the back, “I'll be leaving her alone now that's Sheppard's here. You've got a lot of telling to do, my friend.”
John ran his hand through his hair, feeling already overwhelmed. There was so much to tell. “Crap, I don't even know where to begin.”
“At the beginning, of course,” said Teyla.
“You know it's probably going to take a while,” John said.
The mess-hall doors slid open, buffeting John with the steady drone of voices accentuated by a periodic shout or burst of laughter. Elizabeth, Carson, Keller, Zelenka and Lorne with Mi'sia and Eekala were gathered at a table out on the balcony, talking and laughing.
“No problem,” said McKay with a smile as they walked in. “We've got eternity.”
The End
-----------------------------------------------------------
A/N: This story took two days to plot, and one week to write. It came to me while pondering a possible ending for a future original fic (spoilers for The Last Man may also have played a small part), and morphed into the story you just read. My original intent was a long one-shot, but as stories will, this one ran away with me and kept going. It was difficult to write emotionally, and while obsession drove me, there were some days I hated writing this story as it left me feeling a little depressed. It's also the first fanfic in which I used music to help me plan out certain parts. I use music to help with the mood of a particular scene of a story (Ex. rock, heavy metal for action scenes, something quieter for melancholy scenes) and is something I do only for original fic. But because I couldn't stop thinking about this story, using music to help it along became inevitable.
I hope you all enjoyed it. And I must say, I doubt I'll ever do a future fic again with character deaths and an OC pairing. This one done just about killed me, it did.
Because I like to give credit where credit is due....
Inspiration for alien worlds: Drawing and Painting Fantasy Landscapes and Cityscapes by Rob Alexander. My own sick imagination. The giant space slug was based on a bad dream I had.
Soundtrack:
B Liom by Moya Brennan
What Makes you Dream by Bohinta
Dante's Prayer by Loreena McKennitt
Save Us by Cartel
Q&A by Cartel
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Table of Contents
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-03-23 06:14 am (UTC)From:And Dante's Prayer... one of the best songs I know for setting a somber, sad mood.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 07:57 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-23 11:21 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 07:57 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-23 12:52 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 07:59 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-23 03:50 pm (UTC)From:What I love about your stories is that you aren't afraid to incorporate your love of fantasy into your science fiction and so you create these wonderfully alien worlds.
As for your first foray into writing a "romance" I thought you handled it well and I liked that you let Sheppard find happiness if only for a short while.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 08:01 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-23 09:38 pm (UTC)From:Just ... wow.
This moved me to tears several times, and the ending just tore me apart. Wow. John would be the worst person to give the give of immortality to - he tries to be the stoic loaner, but he wears his heart on his sleeve worse than anyone. The imagery was absolutely amazing, the worlds brilliant.
I can see why this was hell to write. I'm still sobbing.
Wow.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 08:05 pm (UTC)From:This story was very much beautiful torture to write.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 03:26 am (UTC)From:Awe- yep
Enjoyment- yep
Holy guacamole that was beautifully written and told. The worlds and people so accessible. The love stories so real. Love ain't always gushy. Just in a word, wow. Well done and feel free to agonize over something like this again...
no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 08:02 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 09:29 am (UTC)From:This was so well written (not amazing to have come from you) that I could picture everything. I loved every moment.
WHAT A RIDE!!!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 08:06 pm (UTC)From:WOW
Date: 2008-03-24 05:46 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)Re: WOW
Date: 2008-03-24 08:08 pm (UTC)From:Heh, this isn't my usual kind of story to write, which is why my desire to write it still baffles me. So glad you took a chance and ended up enjoying it. I've been rather nervous that people would avoid this story because it contains what so many usually don't like.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 09:36 pm (UTC)From:Well done!!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 02:45 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 09:54 pm (UTC)From:WAAAAAAAH!
That was quite lovely. I'm not sure how I can express how this made me feel, especially since I don't read anything dealing with future stuff, pairings, and character deaths. But I figured, since it was you, I'd take a chance.
I thoroughly enjoyed the rag-tag crew and their eventual tentative trust of each other, and the friendship between Mi'sia and John. Well done on their companionship, because to me, I think John needs companionship more than anything else. Loved the exploration of other galaxies and planets, and the shipping business. You could create your very own 'verse with this!
And, of course, he would have to go home to ascend. But John handing off Atlantis to the newest generation was priceless. Merely mentioning that he was tired, and choosing to end his 400 year journey where it started was poetic and profound with the non-transition. He was speaking to the spirit of Rodney, then there he was, back with everyone who meant anything to him.
Nice way to end the journey of a lifetime!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 02:49 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-24 11:03 pm (UTC)From:I love what you said in one of the comments above: John really does have a lot of love to give, he just needs the right people around him to give it to. Thanks for writing this story, as difficult as it was for you.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 02:51 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 01:06 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 02:50 am (UTC)From:Wow
Date: 2008-03-25 02:29 am (UTC)From:Freakin'.
Cow.
That was excellent! Heartbreaking plot, creative characters, emotional, gripping, fast-paced. . . A fabulous story, and I can completely see why it gripped you so tightly-- even if it was a blasted future fic with an OC romance and character death. ;0)
Beautiful job.
Re: Wow
Date: 2008-03-25 02:53 am (UTC)From:Re: Wow
From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 02:32 am (UTC)From:Magnificent.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 02:54 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 03:38 am (UTC)From:This only took you a week to write? Really? Wow.
You mind if I rec to friends??
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 04:44 am (UTC)From:That's the kind of hold it had on me, although it did take about two weeks to clean up.
And, yes, rec away.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 03:53 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 04:45 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 04:34 am (UTC)From:Brava!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 04:46 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 04:57 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 05:00 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 05:58 am (UTC)From:You constructed it so well, though. It's so plausible and believable, and the sense of wonder and alienness of all the different planets and societies is fantastic. I love the attention to sci-fi details, like John's difficulty in finding food that he can eat, and his ability to eavesdrop on events on Earth (but only much too late to do anything) through stray radio signals; that's just *cool*. The idea of Sheppard as sort of a latter-day "Wandering Jew", cursed with immortality and unable to return home or find a place to settle down, is really neat; it's a very mythic story, and I loved that about it, as well as his eventual circling around to where he came from, handing off the burden to someone else and just ... falling asleep. (And that transition at the end was very well done -- all the transitions, actually, but that one really struck me, the falling asleep and the slow, natural segue into having a conversation with Rodney who may or may not be there, and the reference to his promise at the beginning to come back if he could. I loved his matter-of-factness at Rodney being there, and the way the conversation started in his head and continued out of it without a pause.)
This is definitely going up there with my all-time-favorite SGA stories ... and I must say, possibly *also* the list of stories that I can't reread, at least not in their entirety, because they're so emotionally affecting ... but that's a compliment! Really! There are quite a few future-fics in this fandom, but only a few that really stand out and make an impression. This is one of those.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 08:11 pm (UTC)From:And I'm totally releived to hear that the transition and ending worked. Both I kind of agonized over off and on, the ending especially (I kept thinking about the end of Titanic as I wrote it, and I worried that it was coming off as a little too... sentimental and fluffy, I guess? But I couldn't end it without John being surrounded by his team. I just couldn't.)
I adore being able to write stuff like that... and have it work ;)
But now I need to write me some happy fic with lots of team involvement.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 07:44 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 08:12 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 08:03 am (UTC)From:It was incredible, so emotional and well described.
I could almost feel John's loneliness. And the ending.... oh man, you made me cry. ;)
Very powerful story!!
no subject
Date: 2008-03-25 08:14 pm (UTC)From:Eternity
Date: 2008-03-25 04:34 pm (UTC)From: (Anonymous)Re: Eternity
Date: 2008-03-25 08:15 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-28 06:39 am (UTC)From:And the person who wrote that is absolutely spot-on; this story was intense, and I loved every word!
(Oh, and need I mention, it made me cry, too?)
no subject
Date: 2008-03-29 04:23 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2008-03-29 02:00 am (UTC)From:The ending is perfect, "Death is more than Ascension", and that will can run out long before the body is done.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-29 04:26 am (UTC)From:I felt poor Shep needed that kind of love in his life, even if she wasn't all that human ;). It actually tore me up a little when I had Mi'sia die. I hated doing that to John, I really did. But the story wouldn't take no for an answer *shrugs*.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-29 02:03 am (UTC)From:I was wondering how you would end it. I loved your choice of reuniting him with all those that meant something to him. For me that is the only satisfying way to leave him, in the comfort of friends sharing his adventures.
While I didn't cry, I did get a catch in my throat and had to break from reading for a bit to mull over the losses.
Thank you so much for sharing your talent with us.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-29 04:32 am (UTC)From:It had to happen, though at the time I was worried readers my think it a little too sentimental. But no way was I going to end the story without John being reunited with his team and other loved ones. Not after all the crud I put him through :D.