Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been raining when they landed the Jumper. The sky had been absolutely clear, the sun was out and nicely warm with a little bit of a breeze, and it was looking to be a nice walk to the village they had scouted out from the sky. There just wasn’t anywhere to park the Jumper near the community.

It was a rather mountainous terrain, the stargate of course near the top of the mountain, with a beautiful view from the second the Jumper left the ‘gate. But no people up there. And no place to land. Lt. Colonel Sheppard in his infinite pilot wisdom thought there would be no problem hiking back up to the city they spotted about a mile down from the top, at least a half mile back up from the valley floor.

They left the Jumper unattended on a little foothill grassland that was probably somebody’s grain crop, but it was at least safe from the dangers of rolling down a steep mountain grade. And a half hour later, Rodney McKay was soaking wet and standing in mud because the skies had opened up with clouds and lightning and torrential rain on the team when they were still hiking up the dirt road that led back to this planet’s version of civilization.

“What was wrong with finding a village in the valley?” Rodney asked, the question entirely rhetorical and borne of his soaking wet annoyance.

“Absolutely nothing,” returned John with a terse and false cheer. “Just like there was nothing wrong with a little bit of a hike when the sun was out.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rodney replied.

“I was,” returned Sheppard. “So now we’re half way up, which means we’re still half way down. Either way, we’re gonna get wet. I don’t control the weather. Get over it, McKay.”

“Then get me a towel,” said Rodney, offering up an equally impossible option to counter the ridiculousness of John’s. He was soaking wet, carrying twenty pounds of technological gear in a thankfully water-resistant pack, and chaffing; he wasn’t going to get over it until he was dry.

Up ahead, Ronon Dex walked back toward them down the road. He and Teyla always made better time than Rodney and the Colonel and it always baffled him how that happened. Of the team, Ronon admittedly had things worse when everything on his person was some form of leather and that was definitely a recipe for misery in soaking rain. But the Satedan had probably lived through much worse, because he hadn’t complained about the water that Rodney had heard.

“Found a cave to wait this out,” said Dex, a thumb jerked over his shoulder to illustrate the direction they had yet to travel. Rodney perked up in interest.

“Cave? Like a natural crevice or like the kind made by bears?” he asked. It was a perfectly reasonable question that he doubted Ronon would have bothered to consider before moving in. The notion of bears were not exactly a threat to the big man, while any alien-varieties that existed in the Pegasus galaxy would still be a definite threat to someone less naturally intimidating like Rodney, or even Sheppard.

“Dunno. Don’t care,” replied Ronon. “It’s dry. We’ll go with it.”

Sheppard clapped a hand on Rodney’s shoulder in what was likely intended to be encouragement, but it was hard not to notice that it stayed there and pushed Rodney slightly faster. “Guns, Rodney. We can take care of bears.”

“Yes, but suppose the bears are some sort of holy to whoever lives here? Haven’t we learned this lesson before? No killing things before consulting the locals. I don’t want to have to talk myself off a gallows again, Colonel. Cultural ignorance is a tired defense and someday it’s not going to work,” Rodney pointed out. But he tried to walk faster through the mud, because he didn’t want to walk in the rain anymore, either. They were on their own if they had to kill a bear in the cave they had found, Rodney decided to himself, as he was tired of trying to talk them out of stupid plans. And really, that said nothing good about the mission so far at all because they had yet to meet any Pegasus natives for his team to even be making poor decisions around.

The cave was a natural creation, not a dug out burrow from a wild animal. It was off the well-worn road a hundred yards, hidden back behind trees and rocks and shrubs. The walls were stone and twice as tall as Ronon, the opening of the cave large enough to park a Jumper in if there hadn’t been so many trees. Bird nests cluttered the rock ledges at the top inside and there were droppings down the walls. But it was quiet, and it was dry, and Teyla had already gotten a fire pit going to help them warm up. Two of them, thankfully, one near the front and one much further back to help keep any rear-guard threats in sight. Rodney was reminded that he liked his team and their perfectly complementary intelligence levels, especially out in the field.

Safely inside, he peeled out of his backpack and then his soaking jacket and tried to prop it up over the pack to let it dry. His shirt was wet, too, but there was nothing to be done for that. Rodney settled down on the dry dirt beside the fire and tried to encourage warmth his way. Sheppard dropped his pack next to Rodney, his jacket bunched up on it, too, and then headed back into the cave. Rodney looked up at him, surprised.

“What-”

“MREs in the front pocket. Eat something, Rodney,” he ordered. “I’m gonna help scout out some dry wood for the fires.”

Rodney frowned up at him. “I’m not hungry.”

“That’ll last five minutes,” replied Sheppard over his shoulder. And he was probably right. And digging into the Colonel’s pack would keep the contents of his own pack dry a little longer. So Rodney poked into the offered MRE supply. Ronon and Sheppard disappeared back into the depths of the cave, with their flashlights and their weapons assortment, and Teyla sat down beside Rodney and the packs to partake in the food offerings.

The two didn’t come back with much dry timber from a cave, but they didn’t chase out any bears, either. Sheppard was a little winded from keeping up with Dex, Rodney noticed, but he also knew the man wasn’t going to admit he wasn’t twenty-eight years old anymore, either. John just dropped down next to Rodney and the packs. He dug into his backpack for a PowerBar and relocated the bag slightly so that it was behind him again rather than between them. Then he held out his arm and tapped Rodney on the shoulder.

“Here,” he said. “Found this. Seemed like a you thing.”

Rodney blinked at him but then held up a hand to take whatever John was hitting him with. It was a rock. Blue and black and green lines woven all through that reflected the firelight like the thing had been polished to perfection. It was a little rough in texture, but the surface appeared shiny and smooth. It was a little larger than Rodney’s hand and easy to hang on to, rounder on one end than the other but almost flat on one side. Rodney wasn’t exactly prone to collecting rocks, but the shiny, mirrored colors that shot through the stone were some kind of new mineral, something he had never seen before, certainly. Rodney dropped the rock into his lap and reached for his pack, unburying one of his scanners despite the water that still pooled on the crevices of the backpack.

“What is it?” Teyla asked, curiously peeking around Rodney’s fight with his backpack.

“It’s a cool looking rock,” John replied. “We found a bunch of them back there. Different colors. Some were red and orange. This one’s more… sciencey colors.”

Rodney was too distracted making sure the pretty rock wasn’t radioactive or some other kind of hazardous to pay attention to the ridiculousness of a rock being sciencey colors. It felt warm to the touch and seemed to be getting warmer as it sat in his lap. He made a nest of his jacket in his lap and dropped it in just to keep the rock from dropping into the dirt.

Nothing pinged as anything interesting according to the technology that Rodney had with him, none of which could be put back in the pack until it dried out again from the zipper seal being broken, but it was still a cool rock. It was just a really cool looking rock. And a good hand warmer. Rodney tossed it back and forth, from hand to hand, and it kept his hands busy as the rain fell outside the cave. The oddity of it and the functionality of it cheered Rodney more as he slowly dried off.

It got steadily darker outside and it was quite obvious that it wasn't just the storm. The sun was going down. And wandering around at night was not smart on unknown planets.

"Looks like we're here for the night," said the ever observant team leader. "If it's still doing this when the sun comes up, we head home. Too many things could go sideways."

John wasn't dripping wet anymore and his hair had spiked up again. It wasn't very cold in the cave, even beyond the circle of the fires. They had ventured out to collect more sticks for the fires and had a pile stacked up and spread out around the second fire pit, to dry as best it could before they needed it. They had food. Rodney didn't offer up any complaint about the extended stay, because the crick in his neck he would wake up with was bound to be better than another hike in the rain, especially one in the dark.

They were discussing Satedan carpentry practices because of the wood sticks that had been collected - apparently it was the same green-type wood that Ronon’s aunt had preferred in her builds - when something kicked Rodney in the leg. He startled and looked around, confused that he might have somehow missed seeing some kind of creature crawl on him if it was big enough to kick him in the thigh. But there was nothing there. John looked over at him, eyes scrunched up like Rodney had done something suspicious.

“Something kicked me,” Rodney reported, smacking at his legs to make sure nothing had gotten into his pockets. He picked up his damp jacket and the rock tumbled down. He had forgotten he had left it there, even though he had been unconsciously curled around it because it was an excellent hand warmer. He really wanted two of them, one for each pocket for their next rainy hike, but they were slightly too large to justify the weight. And now he stared down at the rock cradled just at his thigh and watched the stone kick him again. Rodney blinked at it, not quite sure he was really seeing what it felt like he was witnessing. He cautiously set his jacket aside and picked up the stone in both hands, not sure how to hold it when he had definitely felt it jab out, somehow.

“Uh…” He stared at it, jaw going slack as the stone jumped in his hands again, this time starting a crack along one of the shiny, glass-like veins that went through the surface. “Colonel…”

John had leaned over, confused at what Rodney was staring at, and he apparently saw the rock jump. “Holy crap! Did you see- No way.”

Ronon and Teyla were also interested, but they were further away and didn’t have the same view. John drew up onto a knee and moved closer. He poked at the stone in Rodney’s hand and it jumped again.

“That thing sure got hot,” he said. “It was ice cold when we found it.”

“I’ve had it wrapped in my jacket,” Rodney pointed out. The rock made a cracking noise and the split down the side got a little longer. John started prying at it and Rodney made a weird unconscious hissing noise at him to make him not break the rock that was already trying to break itself. “I don’t know what to do- Rocks don’t do this. I’m not a geologist, but rocks don’t do this-”

“I guess we could lick it,” offered John. Because that was helpful. And-

“What the hell, Sheppard?” Rodney blurted, too confused and alarmed by a rock that was cracking in his hands. He should have put it down, but he was surrounded by backpacks and his jacket and fire on one side and John right there in the middle. “Why would you lick-”

The rock snapped completely then and a large chunk fell off. John plucked it out of his hand and held it up toward the fire, looking it over in the light without the glare reflecting off. The stone had splintered and was somehow nearly transparent from what Rodney could see.

“Well, the archeologist nerds are always licking things when we go out with them,” John said, distracted by the shard in his hand. He poked at it, tapped at it with his fingernail. “They say it’s to figure out if it’s a rock or if it’s bone. Maybe they’re just crazy, but maybe they’ve got a trick for whatever this is.”

Rodney looked from the piece John held to the remains still in his hand as another piece flaked off, this one larger, and suddenly he could see that there was something inside the stone. It was its own kind of shiny, reflective black and blue and green like the stone had been, and moving. Definitely moving.

“Doesn’t work on eggs!” Rodney managed to get out. John looked back at Rodney, eyes wide from his own surprise. Across the fire pit, Ronon stood up to come investigate. But Rodney was still penned in by stuff as it was and didn’t have a good place to put things down. He started to motion for John to bring his hand back and take the egg from him, because the last thing Rodney personally wanted was to play with things that lived in eggs that looked like rocks on alien planets. That seemed more like the job for the guy who liked to shoot things and had already been bitten by ugly blue-black bugs. John probably had a pretty good immunity built up against whatever Pegasus wanted to bite him with.

Instead, the man started prying at the pieces of not-a-rock until Rodney was staring at a pair of tiny eyes peeking back out at him. That was not at all what he had been trying to ask the man’s help with. A tiny mouth opened and the snout broke the thin film left behind by the pieces John had removed. Rodney thought he saw teeth already formed but he couldn’t tell if it was a practice bite or a yawn that had removed the barrier.

A minute later, John had removed the larger chunks and everyone crowded around to stare at a small lizard curled up in the remnants in Rodney’s hands. It thrashed and kicked and rolled off it’s side and freed itself of the last pieces without Sheppard’s help. It snapped its little mouth a few more times, too, but Rodney was staring into the fire pit and couldn’t get a good idea of whether it really did have teeth already or not.

“Hey, he’s kinda cute,” said John, and the idiot reached over to pet the alien lizard on top of its little rectangle-shaped head. It wasn’t a snake, it clearly had legs, and as the small creature batted at John’s finger, it moved up and seemed to show- “Oh my god. Those are wings.”

“Lizards don’t have wings,” Rodney said. Teyla frowned at them.

“Yes, they do.”

Rodney looked up at her, agog. “Pegasus has dragons?”

“Winged lizards, yes,” said Teyla. She looked to Ronon as though to confirm and the man just shrugged.

“I mean, we had lizards. I never saw any with wings,” he said. “Different planets, different animals.”

“I have been to places with winged lizards,” Teyla said. “We didn’t have them where I grew up, but I have traded with their homes before. We were always very careful to check that we never removed any from their homes on our return through the stargate. Small animals like that can change the land when they multiply.”

The small animal in question was probably six inches curled up, and his tail and neck probably added at least another three. The stone-egg it had come from had been roughly eight inches in odd-shaped diameter, so the animal had to be at least that big. It yawned at Rodney again. No teeth, he was pretty sure that time. It unfolded a little more and sat up on back haunches. The two little wings hung rather crooked, like he could only get the hang of opening one side at a time. Then the creature dived forward and latched its yawning mouth onto Rodney’s thumb.

“Hey!” At the noise, the lizard-dragon coiled back up, belly flattened into Rodney’s palm as it scuttled the pieces of egg out from under itself with little kicks. It tickled, damn it. And it was cute. This was not an agreed upon revelation. Rodney didn’t want to find tiny little dragon-lizards cute. He set the creature down on the ground next to John’s knee so it could run away, - run far away and stay out of their backpacks! - but the lizard snooped around by Rodney’s leg instead, eventually climbing up onto his hip when it got the hang of how legs worked. John edged carefully away, enough to sit down again, and reached over to try to get the lizard off of Rodney. It instead climbed higher and around his front to cling to the pocket on his chest. Rodney frowned down at it.

“Go play by the fire if you’re cold,” Rodney complained at it. It yawned at him again. John poked at it and it opened its mouth very differently than the yawns, dodging the little head back and forth as the big eyes blinked fast at the threatening finger. He pried at the little lizard to pull it away from Rodney, but it just set tiny talons in the extra material of the pocket, even possibly scratched Rodney with them but he couldn’t quite tell because it was just a slight scrape.

“I guess you get a friend for the night,” said John, giving up with a shrug. “At least it doesn’t hurt when he bites.”

It was a valid point. And the only one that kept Rodney from getting too weirded out as the little critter then spent the next few hours crawling from place to place all over him; his shoulders, his knee, his hip, his neck… the thing even figured out how to get into the pocket on his shirt. Rodney had become a lizard’s jungle-gym.

He picked it carefully off his shoulder and set it on the rocks - actual rocks, he hoped - near the fire pit and the lizard stayed there for a good long while, letting Rodney put together some effort at a sleeping situation for himself. But then John tried to feed it a bit of dehydrated chicken from one of the MREs and the lizard slinked over to curl up on Rodney’s leg. The thing was a little toaster oven when it came back, and Rodney could feel the heat from its belly for nearly five minutes.

A little while later it poked its head into the big thigh-pocket on the BDUs and made itself at home inside. That was more comfortable than it had been in his shirt pocket, as the lizard was really too big for the shirt pocket, but Rodney was worried he might squish it if he tried to lay down. The dragon apparently wasn't, as it refused to be coaxed out. Rodney lost all access to his own pants pocket to a winged lizard and John snickered at him about it like a thirteen year old. Rodney eventually curled up to sleep with the lizard still in his pocket.

He woke up with the dragon on his chest. Along with a smattering of beetle wings and shells. The body seemed heavier, but maybe it was because Rodney was lying down instead of sitting up. He couldn't exactly get a good look at it from the angle he was at, with the dragon's chin resting on Rodney's, and his only real view of the animal being what wasn't hidden by his own nose.

"What do I do?" Rodney asked, barely moving his mouth and holding as still as possible rather than risk getting his nose bit. Even if the thing didn't have teeth. His voice was a croak from rough sleep and he didn't know if anyone else was awake. As far as he could tell, the dragon wasn't. It had curled its tail down over Rodney's ribs and randomly twitched the tip against his elbow. There was a little feathery bit at the end and it tickled obnoxiously.

"Sit up," said Ronon's usual gruff voice. "It's a lizard. It'll leave."

So Rodney tried turning his head first. The lizard tucked its head down along Rodney's shirt collar instead of trying to stay on his chin. That was a positive improvement. The next effort was to turn on his side and push himself up. Dragon claws cut into his shirt and poked his skin like tiny knives and Rodney reached up to pry the lizard-hands away before trying to sit up. The fire was dying so Rodney reached to place the animal as close to the warmth as possible as he sat up. The dragon made an unhappy hissing sound as Rodney's spine popped all the way up from the accidental stretch.

A moment later, he had a dragon in his lap again. One wing was still visibly crooked as it draped itself over Rodney's leg. Rodney frowned as he realized the entire body took up a larger portion of his lap, in general. Like the animal had gotten bigger over night. Rodney reconsidered the origin of the beetle shells he had brushed off his chest. He attempted to pet the lizard, surprised when it didn't snap its jaws at him. Instead, it leaned up and angled around, like a cat looking for the perfect scritches in the perfect spot.

As he looked it over, Rodney realized the head had gotten less flat and boxy and now had a more pointed snout. The eyes were still too big, though. It seemed to have a little crest around the crown, that looked like maybe it protected the slim, floppy ears. The body was undeniably bigger, even curled up, with possibly as much as two or three extra inches in length. The lizard seemed as long as a sheet of printer paper, maybe the size of his laptop from nose tip to tail tip. The body seemed deeper, too, and Rodney doubted it would fit in his pants pocket again.

"I wonder what's up with the wing," said John, and Rodney looked up to see the Colonel slouched a few feet away, arms draped over his knees comfortably as he too watched the dragon.

"How would I know? It's not like it came with an operations manual," Rodney replied. But he was only a little defensive about it, as he wondered the same thing. He refused to consider it worrying, as that was something reserved for pets, not wild animals who adopted humans.

It was early daylight out beyond the cave, and the rain had stopped. It was foggy, from what Rodney could see, but the sun would probably burn that off before long. Rodney had to remove the lizard from his lap and start packing away his gear now that his pack had dried. He was somehow surprised to learn that when the dragon stood up on all four feet the head came almost up to his knee.

"It got bigger," John pointed out, because the Colonel was helpful with the obvious. "Just overnight."

"Probably why it went after the beetles," said Ronon. "That was funny to watch. Not a great hunter. But it was hungry."

The animal shadowed Rodney when he carried the computer equipment from their dry corner to his backpack and stuck its head in the bag to investigate it when Rodney brought it close enough. It got into whatever Rodney tried to do, and even once snuck over and stole a piece of food from John when the food had not been on offer.

"Hey! Go eat a beetle," John grouched at it. The dragon hissed back at him before trotting back to investigate Rodney's breakfast. Rather than risk it, Rodney shoved the last half of the PowerBar in his mouth and had to be careful not to choke. The dragon just crawled up onto the waiting backpack to sniff out crumbs.

When they left the cave, looking like a bunch of dried-off drowned rats most likely, the dragon followed along behind. Rodney had a hard time calling it a lizard because it didn't move like a lizard; the legs were too tall and didn't bow outward from carrying the belly on the ground, and the tail whipped around much differently. The neck wasn't overly long, but it had an inch or so of extra lift there, too, and didn't hang as it moved. The animal took long strides, and it jumped a lot, which Rodney had never seen a lizard do. Really, it moved more like a cat than a lizard. It had scales, of course, the coarser skin of an amphibian-like creature, but they were soft like leather. It shimmered like a clean and brushed coat of blue-green fur in the sunlight. And the wings were a definite oddity. The one wing stayed crooked, though, even when they were folded back on the body.

It sounded childish and silly, but Rodney settled it in his mind that he had found a planet with dragons. Little tiny dragons. That somehow killed and ate beetles even though they didn't have teeth. It seemed like a great find; a pest exterminator that wouldn't bite him. Atlantis didn't have a big bug problem, aside from Sheppard those two times, but Rodney could live with a dragon as a mouser, cleaning up the labs. He was actually smiling as the team's little dragon buddy raced along beside them on their hike up the mountain road.

At one point, the dragon jumped onto Rodney's leg, claws digging in, and hung there until Rodney pried him off. Then it scrambled up his arm and curled up half on his shoulder and half on his pack. The mouth hung open, which in any other kind of animal would indicate a certain exhaustion, and it settled heavily, claws in Rodney's jacket to keep itself in place. The tail curled around his neck. Apparently the dragon was catching a ride.

"We can't keep it," Sheppard warned with his Colonel-voice.

"I didn't say I wanted to keep it," Rodney replied, not technically lying. He hadn't said a word about it out loud.

"No, but it looks like it plans to keep you," John said. "Can't happen."

Rodney didn't say anything to what he knew was perfectly sound logic. But a dragon on Atlantis would have been really, really cool.

Chapter Text

The road was only randomly paved with certain sections reinforced with broad cobblestone and others just a wide and well packed dirt trail. It was clay colored stone, blended into the planet’s red dirt, and wasn’t immediately visible while they were walking on it, let alone from the air. It seemed rather defensive, a sort of protection tactic. Which would track with the rest of what John had seen from the air in the Jumper.

The city they had found had few buildings immediately visible through the trees, and those that were seemed to be reinforced and heavy stone work built into the mountainside, like a castle constructed to hold up against weather and war. The other buildings only showed up on the scans, though. Smaller sized, more vague in outline on the Jumper screen indicating maybe more temporary, residential homes. It was a good-sized community on an expansive, tall mountainside. They had to have sorted some tricks out that would be worth learning about, maybe even some good trade, depending on how the people fared. Mountains weren’t often great about crops.

But the whole dragon thing… That was unexpected. That threw John a curve ball and he hadn’t figured out yet if they were going to have to catch or dodge. The damn thing was cute, and attached to Rodney literally around the neck, but… it was a dragon. The old stories from Earth had to come from somewhere. Did these guys get huge and breathe fire and the whole nine? And what did that mean they would be walking into with this city they had found? It was right up the hill from an entire cave full of those little rock-eggs. Who had time to be worried about Wraith when they had dragons living around the corner? John found himself frowning a lot on the hike as he watched the lizard-thing cuddle into Rodney’s hair.

He knew to look up for some of the houses, so coming into civilization was a slow and cautious trip. They had people watching them for a half a mile before they found a house that was actually on the ground. The network of treehouses were well hidden but anyone up in the branches could see his team before John could see them. The dragon kept Rodney pretty distracted from looking up, and he kept up his usual level of chatter on the way in.

They were all of them exhausted and worn-looking by the time someone actually walked out to interrupt their hike up the road, and by then the massive castle was in view, along with other stone buildings. People definitely lived there, though. Lanterns were mounted along the sides of buildings, as well as large, decorative flags, random herb gardens in pots along every building edge and overgrown vegetable gardens climbing walls. It was a thriving culture from the observations along Main Street, at least. It looked promising.

The team, and their new dragon friend, were noticed and directed to a constable of sorts. The sheriff in town was a smiling man who wasn’t a big fan of their weapons but seemed very intrigued by the lizard on Rodney’s shoulder. He motioned toward their tiny friend.

“Not many keep them up here. It’s not considered safe, without training,” the man offered, testing their reactions as much as being helpful.

“The lizard adopted us,” Rodney replied, nodding and rolling a hand to move along to something actually useful. “He seems to be injured, so if you have someone who knows how to care for animals - a veterinarian maybe?”

“Well, the Regent’s entourage has them, of course. He would have to direct you on that,” the lawman said. He still had his hand on something at his leg that looked suspiciously like a weapon so John tried to smile him out of the suspicion.

“Regent sounds like maybe he’s the one to talk to then,” he said. “We would like to meet the neighbors, if you will, anyway. We’re here through the stargate, looking to establish friendship and trade with those who’ll have us.”

The message of peace and good will seemed to sink in with the added boost of Teyla’s smile. She and John were usually the contrast to the blunt edge from Rodney and the imposing presence of Ronon; Atlantis offered all sorts like that. And the team waited where they were instructed to, under a covered and floral porch off one of the stone buildings as the constable went to inquire on their behalf to the uppity-ups of the community.

The lizard took off into the flower-heavy beams over their heads as they waited, chasing after bugs. The shiny blue-green monster poked his head down every so often to sniff around at the team. He dropped a few bugs on Rodney once, which was certainly worth the price of admission as the not-an-entomologist! scientist started dancing in place to make sure the bugs were brushed out of his fluffy hair.

When the local lawman returned to collect them, the lizard crawled down the posts and chased after them, trotting along and somehow looking bigger than it had before going up into the porch eaves. It tried to jump on Rodney again and instantly the man was swearing, surprised as the claws dug in. Teyla was closest and scooped the lizard up to put him on Rodney’s pack again, getting hissed at the whole time until the four feet were latched into the bag. It sat with the little mouth open again and there were definitely teeth in there now. John winced and tried not to think about the biting problem on their very immediate horizon. One problem at a time, and making new space-friends (despite the potentially deadly animal that had adopted them) was the one they were on their way to handle.

They were let into the walled off courtyard that surrounded the stone castle built into the mountain. It was as large and imposing as Atlantis from the outside and up close, but it wasn’t technological. Just stone and intricate carvings that had to be generations old. Different stone types decorated the doorways and the floors inside the building were smooth and shined like marble. They crossed paths with the occasional human in a colorful uniform with buttons diagonally across their coat front but the folks looked like staff and stayed clear of the team being escorted by the constable.

The rooms were well lit, so they had some form of electricity, which wasn’t John’s area of expertise, but he saw Rodney just at his shoulder, distractedly tapping away at his sensor tablet. The lizard looked down at the tablet as often as Rodney did, but there had been no murderous shouting so John assumed the animal had stayed on his shoulder and didn’t touch the things Rodney didn’t like anybody touching.

Every room they passed was built for comfort, with art on the walls and statues of all sizes, heavy furniture with pillows and just an opulent sort of soft landing. It indicated a society that wasn’t too rushed for time, like they hadn’t often been forced to reinvent themselves after a culling. It was so far a very rare find for their team and John was madly curious but just as cautious.

They eventually ended up in a room with windows and bookshelves that lined the walls around a large desk in the middle with various seating available in almost every corner. One of the humans with the colorful uniforms waited for them there, a suspicious look on their face as they watched the team. The person was small, a short and narrow build, and could have been a man or a woman just as easily as anything, but they seemed to know what to look for in a threat, their attention first going to Ronon and then Teyla before finally landing on John. They seemed to note the weapons he wore and moved on to Rodney and the dragon for a shoulder-parrot.

“Where did you get a Coppi?” they asked. They might have been actually surprised by it, but their face was a tightly schooled mask and not about to crack over a dragon.

“We got stuck in the rains here yesterday, took shelter in a cave,” John reported. He maintained his usual friendliness, even if their apparent host seemed a bit cranky. He tried to illustrate the size and shape of the rocks he had found in the cave with his hands, just to get them safely away from the weapons and try to get their host to relax a little. “There were a bunch of these rock things. Turns out they were eggs. The little guy hatched and now he won’t leave.”

“Yes, Coppi imprint on their bearer,” said their host. They didn’t seem terribly upset about it, almost maybe even amused, but it still didn’t sound like great news to John. Rodney’s mouth dropped open. “It will be months before the Coppi will be able to leave whoever it imprinted on. And… This, is just a guess, but I assume that would be you?”

“Now, hang on a minute… I didn’t lay any eggs-” Rodney began. John choked on a laugh and tried to recover.

“He was holding the rock- egg- whatever,” John offered. “So that would probably be him. The Coppi? It hisses at the rest of us mostly.”

“It prefers to give Rodney beetles,” Teyla said, smiling fondly as the bug-guts-blanket Rodney had woken up to suddenly made more sense.

“I take it you know nothing of Coppi?” their host asked. Rodney shook his head quickly, which caught the attention of the Coppi on his shoulder, and earned him a bite on the ear. John swore under his breath and reached quickly over to try to distract the animal off the prize it had just claimed as Rodney stood shock-still and wide-eyed with a squawked “When did it get teeth?!”

Teyla helped keep Rodney’s person detached from teeth and claws as John lifted the Coppi away from him. The animal gave a slow hiss but didn’t attack and John was left holding the lizard around its small ribs to keep it from grabbing on to anything else as Rodney fussed about his ear.

“It did not break the skin, Rodney, you are fine,” Teyla assured him. Rodney edged a little further away from John and the Coppi just in case anyway. It was like holding a confused kitten as the Coppi sagged in John’s hands and stayed still, head hung low and tail twitching against John’s thigh randomly. The floppy ears were back, which in John’s experience with various sized animals was usually bad news, but the claws and teeth stayed away from him. John looked over at Teyla, not sure how to salvage this particular first-contact. Their team was messy and half-drowned and being lorded over by a dragon; that was some first impression on the first potentially technologically advanced society they had encountered in a long while.

“Uh. Yeah. So we’ve been adopted by a Coppi on our way here from the stargate,” John concluded. “Which I’m guessing is not a normal thing?”

Their host nodded. “We do not have many visitors from the Disk, which I gather is what you’re calling a stargate. Somewhat primitive, but endearing. We do not yet have it recorded in our archives. Where are you from?"

It wasn't like John could make a convincing case against the primitive assumption as he stood there holding a lizard like it was a feral cat. He coughed to cover Rodney's objection and talked over his friend. "Atlantis."

That did seem to surprise their host and they gave the team another obvious assessment. Their attention turned to Teyla. "Two from Atlantis, and by his dress, your large friend is from Sateda… where do you hail from?"

Teyla arched an eyebrow, which could have been her impressed face or the face she got before preparing to screw up someone's jaw.

"I am Teyla Emmagan, of Athos. And these are my friends and teammates, Ronon Dex of Sateda, and Dr. Rodney McKay and Lt. Colonel John Sheppard of Atlantis. We come representing our city, in the hopes of finding friendship and trade among other cultures," said Teyla. Because she was obviously much better at their jobs than John could be while gingerly holding a lizard. He tried to carefully fold the legs of the animal to trap it safely against his chest along his arm and, presumably because it was facing Rodney, the Coppi allowed it. So now Sheppard was cuddling the lizard in the fancy castle’s office with the person in the bright coat who thought he was slightly primitive. It got better every minute. Their host noticed all of it and likely judged him for it but they nodded.

“I am Nova of Cairnyth, Aide Provost to the Regent. You are in the home of the Cairnyth Regent and welcome. Remain here. I will present your business to the Regent, myself,” said Nova. They offered a slight bow and let themself out of the room, leaving the team to the space unsupervised. John immediately held the lizard out to Rodney.

“Take it back,” he said quickly. Rodney shook his head and stepped off.

“You seem to have it handled,” he replied. John glared. Teyla rolled her eyes and approached, only to be hissed at by the small beast. Rather than attempt to take the animal, she looked up at John.

“If what they said is to be believed, the Coppi will not leave without Rodney. You can put it down,” she said. John really liked that idea, but he remembered that Rodney had already been bitten.

“Yeah, but what if it, like, shreds the place up and we can’t catch it?” he asked. “It just bit Rodney.”

Teyla shrugged and moved past him to sit on one of the very comfortable looking chairs. John stood, stuck, pinning the lizard to his chest. And waited. He stepped closer to Rodney with the Coppi, though, just to keep the thing from getting tired of it and biting him. There was a slight rumble against him then, not a hiss, but… well, if it was a cat, it would be purring. Rodney was close enough then to hear it, and he looked over at John in open confusion.

“Are you making that noise?”

John shook his head, motioned toward the Coppi. Rodney angled closer enough to pet the Coppi on the head and the noise just got louder. John rolled his eyes; what the hell were they supposed to do with a purring alien lizard that had attached itself to Rodney McKay?

Nova returned not long later, the sharp-eyed Aide following a man in another embroidered, colorful coat with diagonal buttons from shoulder to opposite hip. It looked like a weapon sling but neither of them wore weapons. The man was introduced as the Regent of Cairnyth, and Nova was annoyed when he introduced himself as Wes. The pair were a contrast, Wes an open book to Nova's tight-lipped annoyance.

If John were still green to the job, he might have bought the distracted-royal act from the Regent, but it didn't fit. Wes relied on his bright blue eyes and charming smile to get his way just as much as John did sometimes, which just made it obvious. Wes seemed genuinely friendly, all the same, and the situation with the lizard amused him.

"Obviously there are only two options there," the Regent explained. "Either guide it to the butcher on the outside, to become someone's dinner for the week. Or keep it. It will follow you until it is otherwise left behind. If you choose the latter, however, I suggest training. In my experience, they become harder to train as they get older. And untrained, they are unquestionably dangerous."

"Regent, while you make that sound easy, I am personally loath to admit that I don't know how to train the animal," Rodney said quickly. "What if we were to turn him over to one of your people to train? That would work as an alternative to eating him, wouldn't it?"

"Not really. It's obviously attached itself to your Lt. Colonel there-"

"Oh no, not me," said John quickly. "I'm just holding him. This is Rodney's project."

The Regent stepped forward and offered to try to take the lizard off his hands and John awkwardly allowed the man into his space. The moment he let loose on his hold to pass the animal off, it started hissing and scratching his arm as it tried to climb his shoulder. Stuck, John stared, wide-eyed, as the dragon curled from one shoulder to the other around the back of his neck, the hissing hitting a whole new level of angry right at his ear.

Rather than look at all upset about it, the local royal was smiling. "As I said, in my experience, it would need to be trained. By you. Or sooner put out of its misery."

"We'll keep it then," said Rodney quickly. He stepped closer to John and the dragon jumped from John's shoulder to Rodney's. That only made John feel a little better about the whole thing. They had a whole city of people; they couldn't have an animal around that was going to attack anyone not Rodney, or apparently John.

"I will introduce you to my handlers then," said Wes. "While you are here, they can guide you on the training. And in the meantime, we can discuss this cultural exchange Nova mentioned. It has been generations since my people have heard stories of Atlantis. It is, frankly, a place of legend. That we would receive visitors from there is… just short of amazing."

And after twenty-four hours away from home, on a mission that had gone sideways only forty minutes into it at the start, that started the team on the actual hard part of their jobs: schmoozing. The stupid lizard gave them a surprising boost, made up for and even excused their dirty, run-down appearance in the face of people who spent a lot of effort on colorful clothing and well-styled hair.

The Regent himself provided the tour of his grounds, through the castle and two other large, stone buildings. John made the mistake of walking between Rodney and the windows at one point and their little dragon friend traded shoulders again without warning. Like a lizard, he preferred the sun. But he showed no inclination toward jumping on Teyla or Ronon.

At the end of it, of course, was the dinner hosted by the locals. The assessment of each other had lasted for hours between the two groups, John's team reading Wes and his people, and the Regent prying for information about Atlantis. The obvious question was never asked, naturally, because "What's in it for me?" didn't fit with the persona that their new friend Wes was selling. He would sort that out for himself and then let them know.

John had been doing this for three years, across dozens of planets, and there were patterns; the guys with power weren't as unique as they liked to think they were. John and his team had their list of things they could negotiate with, and a good idea of what was worth negotiating for. And Sheppard didn't expect to get much out of the first trip, just because they weren't dealing with a small community like the Athosians. Cairnyth was huge, and the Regent wasn't enough of an aggrandizing con to risk it with hasty alliances.

In the afternoon they had spent with the people of Cairnyth, they hadn't seen signs of anything that would warn them off dealing with the city. It seemed flashy, maybe, but honestly earned. No signs of abuse among the people, no unnatural friendliness, but rather just a people who kept busy, creating things. The Regent oversaw the artisan city, where the schools were, where the workers in the valley and other areas sent their kids and their scientists, and assembled the government and associated duties for half the continent. The mountain hold kept the seat of their information and their power, and controlled a stargate.

The Regent himself came from military background, spoke of it carefully, like he missed it, reminding John of a reassigned soldier looking for reports from the relief crew. Not that he knew anything about that. They seemed honest when the Regent and Nova discussed their enemies in the Northern countries. It was described as disagreements over borderlines.

No one seemed very interested in the stargate because only sporadic trade came through and even that had waned over the generations. Their planet had dragons and apparently even the Wraith stayed away from those. The Regent's handlers, that he had volunteered to assist Rodney with training, were the city's dragon trainers, military dragon trainers. Because their country had long ago figured out how to weaponize the animals. The castle didn't have any other than as pets, said Nova, because the training happened with the military, and the city on the mountainside was fortified enough that they kept few military troops around the artists, students, and thinkers of their country.

The notion of an attack-dragon was comical, Atlantis didn't have a need for one, and Rodney would have a damned of a time going off-world with a dragon-sized shadow. However big the thing ended up getting. But John was distracted at dinner, watching Rodney try to figure out what the animal would eat off his plate - Meredith Rodney McKay was sharing food with a dragon! - and what would get him hissed at or spit out on the shiny floor. It was a funny looking lizard with some kind of busted wing and Rodney had gone all soft around the edges to make sure the thing could fit in with him. Rodney didn't do that for anyone, at all, not in all the years John had known him. And the man had been engaged once, to a real, actual, human woman. He got huffy if Ronon stood too close to him sometimes, but there he was at the table with the animal in his lap, despite the fact that it had bit him three times in the last hour. (Apparently they were all accidents.)

John watched as Rodney scrunched up a grape-like fruit and tried to hand it off to the lizard with a "Now, there. See, it looks like a beetle." There was absolutely no way they could leave the dragon behind. Rodney would fight them for it. John couldn't do it. He wanted McKay to continue talking to him and telling him off and snapping at him and gaming with him and all the other things his friend did with him at home, and that would very possibly be derailed by abandoning the tiny dragon currently spitting fruit at Rodney.

Wes noticed. "You seem distracted, Colonel."

John looked up at him, remembered to drag up a smile at the last second. He shrugged to dismiss it. "Trying to figure out how to fit a dragon in at home, honestly."

"Dragon?" Wes asked.

"Uh. What we call animals like the Coppi," John said. "For us, they're the legends."

"She's wild-reared. They do not get as big," said Nova, not at all understanding John's concern. "The Queen has two for pets. They must be trained differently, of course, but it can be done."

That was slightly positive news, considering the young Queen Toiran was only five years old. If a five year old could figure it out… John didn't finish the thought, just to make sure Rodney didn't scowl at him. Somehow, he still got sighed at heavily for it, another classic annoyance warning from the man. It occurred to Sheppard that he knew far too much about his friend's moods.

"Of course, that figures," Rodney muttered. John looked over at him, confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Rodney carefully scooped the dragon up and placed it in John's lap as if to prove a point. The dragon immediately started poking at John's plate, without so much as a hiss at him. Rodney waved to the evidence.

"Of course it's a girl. She likes you," he said. John felt offended on principle at an unearned attack.

"Hey! She liked you first..."

"Kirk, with a dragon," returned Rodney under his breath.

Across the table, Ronon snorted on a laugh and John belatedly realized what he had said. He shook it off rather than make it worse trying to defend himself and very gingerly pried his plate out of reach of the dragon nose. It was all very amusing to Wes and a few other members of the Regent's entourage, though Nova still wasn't inclined to smile.

"Despite your hardship with the Coppi, so early in your trip, I think our countries could do well as allies, Colonel. Atlantis sounds exactly as our stories describe it. And it speaks highly that you include other cities, the people of other planets, so close within your order," said the Regent of Cairnyth, and John no longer had the luxury of being distracted by the dragon in his lap. On to business.

"That's one of our expedition's core beliefs, Director Weir would tell you herself. A diverse, experienced people is vital to Atlantis. We're better off for the help we've received from our friends over the years," said Rodney, beating John to an answer. Sheppard nodded along in agreement. "We would be better off still if anyone could point us to a supply of extra ZedPM, but that's a pipe dream, honestly."

"Yes, I'm afraid we can't assist with the power supply problem you have mentioned," agreed the Regent, blessedly unaware of the undercurrent of annoyance in McKay's helpful report. "But in other ways, perhaps."

"Well, the food supplies you mentioned would certainly be of interest. The problem with living in the city is our limited access to crops. Our selection gets a little slim, quickly, and when we can, we prefer to trade in for some variety," said John. The Regent had access to an entire country's worth of food and didn't seem to be running low, so a fraction of their surplus would definitely take care of Atlantis.

They went back and forth a few times, hammered out their mutual wish-lists that they could work toward, with varied input from around the table, and ended up in a seemingly good place with it. Despite the fact that the dragon in his lap had eaten the last few pieces of not-actually-chicken off Sheppard's plate, the business dinner formalities had gone well. Rodney would get to train a dragon, and Atlantis would get food, in exchange for a few medical visits from Carson's team, and regular market trade from the Athosian leather workers. The Regent's people would even clear a landing pad to facilitate the visits. Just when John thought they had everything nearly settled, the differences in culture reared back up.

"You've said nothing yet of the Omen on offer from Atlantis, Colonel," said the Regent finally. "Particularly considering the involvement of the Disk, an Omen would be customary."

The only omens John knew of were generally not favorable, so rather than blunder into something, he looked to Teyla. She didn't seem much more confident in how to answer than he was.

"I am sorry, Regent. We are unaware of what an Omen is," said Teyla, somehow working her own natural charm with the potentially problematic admission. It was never a good idea to sit down to negotiate when one didn't know how to read the contract. All sorts of bad things could happen.

"Our tribes trade between each other regularly," said Nova. Their tone said that they were the Regent's lawyer in all trade negotiation and that AR-1 should pay attention rather than make them repeat themselves. "It builds trust and community within the country, saves on the required pilgrimage to the city with the goods in question, which is highly risky and a waste of time. The Omen provides a high-placed, permanent partnership to link the two tribes involved. With the exchange of goods, they exchange Omens, to ensure prosperity on all transactions in the future."

"Sounds fair," said John. "But what is the Omen itself? A statue? Some kind of token…"

Again, Wes and others around the table found it amusing, while the look on Nova's face made it clear they were annoyed by the ignorance. "The Omen suggests a marriage of tribesmen, Colonel. To ensure each tribe is permanently invested in the health of the other, from that point on."

As John tried to remember how words worked, Ronon choked on his drink. Teyla took it more in stride, while the certified and well-papered genius sitting next to John didn't seem to be processing the aide de camp's words at all.

"That, uh… that may prove difficult," John began. "See, that's not how we- I mean, marriage isn't something transactional like that… for us…"

"Oh, it's not transactional, it's the Omen," said Wes. "It's traditional, yes. But I assure you, it holds meaning as well as value. Anyone already settled with their lifepartners is strictly forbidden to apply as Omen. The Omen is the representative relationship between the communities and should never be forged at the breaking of another. So goes the Omen goes the city."

That… was terrible news. Their sure-bet trade had just crumbled on traditional rites. "Uh, I'm still not seeing how we can participate in this kind of arrangement. See, we -"

Wes frowned at him. "Your team already has lifepartners?"

"Yep," said Ronon, quicker than John had ever heard the man speak up. He caught Teyla's hand under his on the table and lifted it to place a kiss on her knuckles. Teyla smiled through it and leaned toward him, backing up the lie now that it had so casually been made. It would be far worse to be caught in it than to lie in the first place.

Shit. Things were going downhill fast.

Wes looked expectantly back to him. "Well, what of you, Colonel? Are you bonded? And honestly, why would any of you leave a partner on another planet? Are these ties not done, among your people? To leave a bonded one for days at a time shows surprising disrespect-"

The Regent seemed to be reassessing the team as a whole based on the availability of an Omen, when there was absolutely no way anyone on Atlantis would volunteer to become one. "We obviously didn't know about the Omen situation when we set out," said John. "We can't offer one."

"As I said, this is an important traditional rite among our tribes," said the Regent, shaking his head. "It is not to be disrespected by outsiders."

"No disrespect intended, Regent," replied Rodney quickly. "But your own traditions disqualify any of us from… offering. The Colonel and I can no more volunteer as Omen than Ronon or Teyla without breaking our own oaths. I assume that would be a worse violation than offering nothing at all?"

"Ah, the Colonel is your bonded partner, Dr. McKay?" the Regent asked. John glanced over at Rodney, not at all sure of the wisdom in letting McKay lie their way out of this problem. But Rodney just stuck out his chin and nodded.

"That shouldn't come as a huge surprise after watching the Coppi cuddle up to him all afternoon," he pointed out. At the reminder, John looked down to see the Coppi in question had burrowed its head under the flap of one of his vest pockets and was purring again, on a stack of PowerBars it couldn’t reach through the foil. Rodney kept going. "We leave with our team, Regent. But we don't leave each other behind."

While it wasn't exactly the truth, Rodney also didn't lie. He pulled it off and the other people at the table seemed to relax. The Regent had gone back to smiling, though it had faded.

"That is certainly true, Dr. McKay. But it reasonably also changes the expectations for trade. We do not know you, and your stories of Atlantis are out of our fairytales. Without some mutual investment in Cairnyth and her objectives, we will require time to build trust. Verify the resources you claim," he said. "We are a friendly people. But we are cautious."

"That's fair," said John, nodding approval of the new plan. "Then how about this. We hold off on trade, for now. If the offer’s still on the table, we have a dragon to train up. We can take a day or two for that. Tomorrow, if it's not raining, we can take you or Nova up to the stargate to dial home, and we can set up a way to talk to the Director yourself. We're not in a hurry for anything, so small steps work out fine."

It was agreeable. Even Nova looked like they figured out how to relax for a minute afterward. The meal finished up without anyone losing their heads or being otherwise ordered to suffer death for the sin of a cultural taboo. John learned that tiny purring dragons snored. Everything was fine. And Ronon and Teyla held hands the entire rest of the visit.

Afterward, they were escorted to the guest wing they had been to earlier. It had a wide hall behind a pair of double doors on one end, which led off to the sleeping quarters they had stowed their gear in before the tour. John was thankful there were only three rooms because he had automatically taken the room with Rodney to let Teyla and Ronon each have their own space. If the ever-watchful Nova expected them to be "life partners" then the whole "separate bedrooms" thing would have probably stood out as some kind of red flag. John really, really didn't want to know what they'd get for lying to paranoid people who built their geniuses a bunker castle in a mountain and trained attack-dragons.

Chapter Text

The team was left on their own after dinner and they ended up back in the large main room with the library shelves. The books were all written in a language John didn't understand, but Ronon seemed to. He would randomly grab books off the shelves and spend a few minutes flipping through them, more time spent scanning a page than would usually happen if he didn't know what the words said.

"Anything interesting?" John asked, trying to make himself stop tracking the dragon's explorations.

"Nope," replied Ronon. "Storybooks."

Rodney sat engrossed in information from his tablet, so he wasn't exactly paying attention to the dragon he had set loose around them. The beast ran across the room suddenly, little clickity-clack claws sliding badly on the smooth tiles, and the brakes failed. She hit the open door to the hallway and then ran like hell down the hall to the bedrooms. Rodney looked up, distracted.

"What was that?" he asked.

"The Coppi ran into the door," Teyla replied. Rodney set the tablet down and went off after their newest little teammate. John sunk a little further into the armchair and stared up at the ceiling, frustrated.

"It is a slight inconvenience," Teyla told him. "But it is not a problem we will not be able to put behind us."

"Which one?" asked Ronon with a scoff. "The claw-footed squeaker toy, or the whole life partner thing?"

"Both," replied Teyla with a shrug. "We are a team, I trust you. There is no danger with their assumptions. While there would have been great danger accommodating an Omen from an unknown culture."

John suddenly felt the woman staring at him and risked glancing over at her. She met his eyes to be sure he understood her point. "They are not the only people allowed to be cautious, Colonel. I prefer this arrangement to the alternative."

John scrunched his nose and nodded, eyes going back up to the ceiling. That was a very valid, logical point. But it was definitely easier for her to say.

"Sorry, not sorry you got McKay," said Ronon, taunting in his tone.

"That's not it," said John, shrugging and hardly noticing the tease. He was easily distracted and a dozen steps sideways from where the other two members of his team were thinking things through.

"It's just for a few days, and Teyla's right, there are worse things than pretending to tolerate my company for that long," said Rodney as he entered the room again, carrying the dragon. Her wings were spread awkwardly over his arm and John frowned at him. He sat up to motion toward the dragon, feeling tired.

"Yeah, fine, partner, but why can't we just be like normal people and get a dog? If it's gotta be ugly or something weird like that, I think french bulldogs are cute, so we have a lot of room to negotiate here…"

Rodney seemed genuinely baffled. "She is cute. And dogs bite."

"Dragons, Rodney. Fire-."

"We don't know if that's a possibility. She's just a baby," replied Rodney, shaking his head. He scritched the animal's chin with his thumb and it started the weird scratchy purring again.

John leaned forward over his knees, trying to put himself back in Rodney's line of sight while the man was distracted doting on a dragon. "How are you missing the part where the fact that the barely two-day-old baby is the size of a housecat, after - I repeat- two days, is a bad thing?"

Rodney hemmed on trying to answer, even his quick brain unable to justify the risk so easily as he wanted to. Across the room, Ronon set down his latest book and moved to drop onto the couch next to Teyla. He motioned vaguely toward where Rodney stood in the middle of the seating area, squaring off with John.

"See? This is why it had to be me and Teyla. It was the only believable option and I knew you guys were gonna screw it up," Ronon said.

To say John wasn’t amused by the joking logic would be an understatement. There was a time and a place to shove screw ups in his face, and in the middle of a sideways op was really neither of those. Rodney didn’t seem much happier about it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

Teyla cast a sidelong glare at Ronon for stirring the pot but she still tried to play peacekeeper, bringing out the calm, placating voice on the other two. “He was badly pointing out that no one would believe either of you were lifepartners with either of us when a lot of your bickering-”

“All of it,” Ronon interrupted. Teyla arched an eyebrow and nodded acceptance of fact.

“All of your bickering is with each other,” she concluded.

John sagged back in his chair to glare at the ceiling rather than deal with his team. “Ha ha. I’m the one with a dragon problem and they’ve got jokes.”

For some reason that was the part that offended Rodney. “Schrodinger is not a problem.”

“Oh god. No.” John sat up again quickly shaking his head. “No way.”

Ronon thankfully kept his mouth shut on any further observations but Teyla was openly confused and working toward some kind of annoyed herself. “What now?”

John pointed at Rodney and the Dragon cuddled up in his arms. “Schrodinger. He said the dragon is Schrodinger. She’s not a cat, Rodney. This is not fluffy and cute and harmless-”

“No, she’s the closest thing to a cat I’ve seen in this entire galaxy so far. Look at this…” Rodney held the dragon under the arms and it dragged in the air, slumped like a ragdoll out over the floor. She looked side to side, her shoulders up uncomfortably high, and allowed the manhandling. Drooped like a perfectly tame housecat.

John shook his head. “That doesn’t mean that the cat hypothetically exists! It’s still a dragon.”

“A lizard. Of some kind. That doesn’t mean dragon,” Rodney corrected him, but the tone in his voice was the one the man pulled out when he was just arguing not to let John be right about something. John narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“She’s not even two days old and growing by the minute. She’s either a dragon or a dinosaur, take your pick. I’m inclined toward dragon because wings are involved.”

Rodney shrugged and moved over to sit in one of the nearby chairs. The dragon was set down on the armrest rather than be waved around. “Still. Not a problem. We have an entire planet at home. Currently, she fits through the stargate. It’s fine.”

There were some points John would have to resign himself to, but others just made the big things intolerable and would have to be shut down. “You are not naming her Schrodinger.”

“Yes I am.”

“No. We’ll call her Rocky.”

Rodney actually looked over at him again, annoyance and confusion both making the corner of his mouth twitchy. "But... why?"

John shrugged at him. "Because she came from a rock. And I had a dog named Rocky when I was a kid and it's a cool name."

"Schrodinger is a cool name,” Rodney said, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, but she's not a cat, Rodney!" John waved to the lizard-faced animal sitting up and stretching two wings very carefully out as it tried to balance on the padded armrest. “No punny names on a dragon. The dragon part is weird enough.”

"She's not a dog, either-"

"I swear I'm going to kill you both,” interrupted Ronon. It was more volume than genuine threat but it got their attention. John scowled over at his traitorous second; the man had stopped being helpful a while ago. But John also was very aware that he was too cranky to be trusted for anything resembling leadership just then and didn’t argue. Ronon had no problems glaring Rodney into quiet. Then he waved at the dragon. “Her name is Ryli."

That wasn’t expected so much and the room went quiet for a moment.

"What?" John and Rodney finally asked, awkwardly enough at the same time.

Ronon shrugged. "It's a damn lizard on Sateda. Now stop. You want to bitch at each other like old wives, go somewhere else."

It was probably the smartest course of action and it definitely solved the problem of having to worry about the dragon if he wasn’t in the same room as it. John caught the end of the armrests and pulled himself out of the chair.

“Great idea,” he said, walking toward the hallway of their mostly-separate quarters. “Keep yourselves out of trouble. Good night.”

There were a few things eating at John’s patience with their sideways off-world trip, and the dragon was just the easiest one to deal with. Sitting around scowling at his friends wasn’t going to help him sort out the rest any faster. Things were bad enough already and they didn’t need their team lead making things worse with a bad attitude.

There was quiet for a moment after the Colonel left, aside from the dragon starting up a high-pitched clicking noise that had her tossing her head back and putting some real effort into the sounds coming from her throat. Rodney had no idea what prompted it or what it was and he sat back and let her do it. She wasn’t very loud, so when Teyla chided Ronon for starting trouble that didn’t need to be started, Rodney heard it.

“The Colonel was the one being ridiculous,” Rodney offered up, still annoyed. “Starting an argument about her name.”

“I think it is the situation, Rodney,” said Teyla. “We have children in the city. A pet such as her is dangerous. But it’s clear you want to keep her-”

“Well, I don’t want to send her to the butcher,” cut in Rodney.

“Point is, Elizabeth’s not going to yell at you about the dragon,” said Ronon. He nodded off toward the hallway John had disappeared down. “It’s his job not to bring back pets. Not yours.”

“They said she can be trained. It will be fine,” said Rodney. And it would be. He was certain of it, and he would make it so. “I left my cat at home. I know how to take care of… animals that… have this temperament.”

“It’s still a lizard,” Ronon said, bluntly. “I can tell you the ones I’ve eaten maybe didn’t have wings but they tasted like any other bird.”

The dragon stopped her funny vocalizations and jumped down from the chair arm suddenly. She ran in zigzag bursts across the floor between the chairs and took off toward the hallway again. There was a sweeping sound and then a thud as she slapped into the door at the end of it.

Rodney sat still, not sure what to do with a dragon with the zoomies. It wasn’t like they had any toys. And probably not any bugs for her to hunt. Teyla looked at him pointedly as the dragon started making a noise that was very definitely the scratching of something being destroyed. Rodney waved vaguely toward the hall.

“They wouldn’t have put us in a room with a dragon if they didn’t expect it to get destroyed in some fashion,” he reasoned. That did nothing to lessen the severe angle of Teyla’s eyebrows. Rodney sighed and stood up. He had maybe forgotten the part where pets required work on his part. He would have to consider this, like his friends were asking him to.

He headed for the hallway to collect the dragon and would try to corral her in the bedroom where there was a rug and she was less likely to hurt herself running into walls. He still paused not far from the gathered chairs and the two members of his team who weren’t exactly mad at him yet.

“On another subject. Before it becomes a problem,” he said, trying to keep the frustrated sigh out of his voice. “This place has electricity. The power signature isn’t anything impressive, but it exists. The readings I got had some weird kickback in places. They have technology, we just don’t know how advanced. So… to be on the safe side? Assume they have the same, let’s just say communications capacity that we would get with the Genii. You follow?”

Teyla let out an annoyed huff before nodding. Ronon took another moment to process and Rodney could see him working it through, was about to tell him to have Teyla explain later, but the Satedan finally nodded. His expression didn’t change but he kicked back where he sat and sprawled an arm along the back of the couch behind Teyla. Really, Ronon was too big for the couch as it was, the stretch was unnecessary. There was another thud from the hallway as the dragon spun herself out into a wall again. Rodney began to worry for more than the animal’s wings and turned to go save her from herself.

“You kids behave yourselves,” Ronon called after him. Rodney didn’t have anything snappy in return and pretended he hadn’t heard. It was also followed up by an “oof” from the Satedan, so Rodney preferred to believe Teyla had taken care of the joker for him anyway. She deserved the revenge after his surprise on the team over the Omen thing. And Rodney knew he needed to talk to John about his role in that. Not apologize, certainly, but at least… set terms.

He was stuck thinking about it when he realized the dragon wasn’t in the hallway. Teyla and Ronon’s rooms were open so Rodney sighed and picked one to start looking in the dark for the blue-and-black beast because it was easier than trying to figure out where the light switches were. He tried mimicking the clicking noise she had been doing in the other room, feeling like an idiot in the middle of a dark room, waiting for an attack or proof of dragon-zoomies at the very least.

It didn’t take very long before the dragon skittered across the floor and jumped on his leg, bolstered this time by the fact that he stood on a rug and the animal had better purchase. The damn claws still hurt, though, and Rodney hurried to catch her up and carry her instead of being climbed on.

Despite the fact that John had obviously gone to the room to hide, the lights were on in that one. It didn't occur to Rodney to knock because his stuff was in the room as well, so it was community property on a foreign planet. Sheppard’s sulking hadn’t stopped Rodney from entering a shared room before and it wouldn’t now.

He tossed his tablet on the bed and was more careful about setting the dragon down on it. She hissed at the man already on the bed but trotted over and tried to pick a fight with his boots. John looked up from his tablet to see the damage the dragon wasn’t doing to the steel-toed leather then turned the glare on Rodney

“Really?” he asked.

“You locked her out, apparently she has opinions,” replied Rodney. The dragon pounced to the side to attack from another angle and tripped over her misadjusted wing. It took some of the fire out of her play and she cautiously walked away from her opponent to recover. John had lowered his attention by then, but Rodney saw him watching her without looking back up.

“Ha! See, you want to keep her, too,” he said. John rolled his eyes and ignored him. Rodney sighed and walked up to the side of the bed, held his hand out for the tablet.

"Let me see that, please," he said. John looked pointedly to the tablet the dragon had curled up on. Rodney snapped his fingers. "Just trust me."

John scowled at him and handed over the tablet.

"You're in between games anyway," Rodney said, seeing the start menu for the golf game. John still didn't say anything. Rodney switched to the app he needed. "Oh, I get it. This is the thing where you're mad at me, so we're not talking, right? We still do this?"

"No," returned Sheppard. But he sounded annoyed at the call-out. Rodney typed out the message he needed to be sure the Colonel knew about before handing the tablet back. If there was anything that would knock the man off the sulking track, it would be the unfortunate news that there was a possibility they should expect the castle to be equipped with some kind of surveillance. They were left in their own wing, by a people who claimed to be friendly but reserved the right to caution, and who hadn't left behind a guard, in a space that was definitely wired for electricity somehow. Such cheerful news was sure to do miracles for Sheppard's mood.

"Good, because this is important," Rodney said. "And I doubt either of us would be comfortable with my having to resort to interpretive dance."

John huffed at him but took the tablet back. The scowl faded as he read what was typed on the word document. He looked up at Rodney then, somehow looking more annoyed and resigned at once. "This is for real?"

Rodney nodded. "It's a very real possibility, but I didn't exactly bring my bug detector."

"This trip just keeps getting better," muttered Sheppard.

"It would be smart if we didn't broadcast certain topics," said Rodney. John nodded.

"You think?"

"I think we should maybe make it a point to discuss what we agreed to at dinner," Rodney said. John raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's funny. I don't remember being consulted on that agreement at the time," he pointed out. "And considering this is my team, not to split hairs or anything-"

"We were kind of low on options."

"Not my point," John replied. But he didn't dig into it again. "And it's fine. We're on it. We'll look into this training thing for her and be home in a day or two. Done." He waved at the dragon at the foot of the bed opposite him, wrapping the whole trip up in an invisible bow.

"Done and done," agreed Rodney. "And you're still speaking to me at the end of the day, so all's well that ends well."

John shrugged and nodded. "She's still not a cat."

There was a split second where Rodney wanted to argue but there wasn't actually anything to be argued; a dragon was not a cat, hypothetical or otherwise. But the one clawing at his tablet was still alive. And she was staying that way, as long as Rodney could manage it. The only win on the subject had been handed to him by Ronon, so Rodney accepted it.

"Fine. Her name is Ryli," he said. John nodded acceptance of that.

"How the hell do we put her to sleep?" he asked after a moment. Rodney blinked a few times and then looked over at Ryli. Could they put a dragon to sleep? Make her a little nest or something and she would get the hint? It was a lot different inside a bedroom and expecting to sleep than it had been in a cave; in a cave, she could have wandered off on her own, done whatever damage she wanted. Which was apparently to catch bugs. That wasn't an option in a castle, in a room with no windows. The dragon in question started gnawing on the protective case around the tablet it cuddled.

"Just great," muttered Rodney.

He tried settling her into the cushions off the chairs in the room - all of them - to give her a small mountain of soft things to hide in, but Ryli didn't seem interested. She liked the world under the bed, ultimately, so Rodney left most of the pillows in disarray for her to make her own burrows and tried to get himself ready for sleep. They hadn't been planning for an overnight trip, and Elizabeth was going to be mad at them for not checking in for that, but that was tomorrow's problem. The one he had to deal with then was the fact that he had worn the same clothes for forty-eight or so hours and did not enjoy the idea of sleeping in them a second night in a row.

But the notion of stripping down seemed dangerous around a dragon who liked to crawl up his leg. And there was the awkward detail that he had told a room full of aliens that they couldn't obey their customs because he and John Sheppard were bonded lifepartners and who the hell knew exactly what that meant but Rodney certainly had an active enough imagination to fill in a few blanks.

He stalled on making a decision on it by pointing out instead that he didn't know how to turn the lights off in the room. John waved him off about it until he finished his golf game and then shut the tablet off. He nodded toward the bed where Ryli was hiding, containing her zoomies to the carpeted space in the dark under it.

"Pack your clothes when you strip. I'll bet she'll shred them if they're left out," he said. And to illustrate his belief in that wager, he tugged his shirt off as he moved to his backpack, not a wall switch. The man went bravely down to his boxers, and Rodney was suddenly picturing dragon-claws in flesh and realized it would be less likely to happen if he was under blankets before the lights went out. It was suddenly a race to strip before the room went dark. Not that he was sacrificing the Colonel to their dragon, but there was no sense in both of them being a target.

Rodney got his clothes tucked safely away in his gear just as the lights were shut off. He thankfully made it back to the bed, completely blind, but safe from dragon claws. Somehow everything stayed quiet. John returned to bed without a dragon attack. Given how many times Rodney had been jumped on while clothed all day it seemed a little unfair, but apparently objects moving in the dark weren't a guaranteed trigger for the animal's prey-drive. That was actually good news.

There was a mostly unspoken rule about sharing a bed with a teammate when they were away from home: don't make it weird. The rule had been explained once, when Rodney had asked what happened if they were stuck on overnights away from home, because that at the time had been absolutely unacceptable to him and his workload and he was very worried about the possibility. It now was a normal problem and he planned ahead for it as much as possible. But the way to keep to the rules, as they were explained back then, was no talking in bed. Once the lights were out, nobody lying down could say much more than good night. And that rule had gotten the team successfully through many overnight stays in shared rooms. On one memorable occasion, there had been no beds, just pallets on the floor, and the room was small so they were all four of them squished together. The rule applied then, too.

It likely applied under the current circumstances, the dragon scuffling around under their heads notwithstanding, but Rodney had questions and he wasn't sure if he could ask them anywhere else, safely.

"Breaking the rule," Rodney warned, keeping his voice very quiet. He was already sprawled out on his stomach and comfortable but he turned to face John and tugged the blanket up a little higher to help muffle his voice.

"What rule?" John asked.

"The no talking one."

"McKay, fair to say it's already weird. Talk away," John replied.

"I've never been married. What do we have to do to look like we are?" Rodney asked it in a rush and kept his voice quiet. There was a long stretch of silence after that.

"Don't worry about it, Rodney. I'll take care of it," John finally said.

"Really? How? The saying goes, it takes two to tango, not just John," Rodney replied.

"If we gotta tango, I'll tell you," said John, going quiet himself that time. It still sounded loud, just lower, and Rodney definitely understood the no talking rule then. It sounded closer and… hit different. "All you have to do is trust me. And just… go with it."

That was pretty much what Rodney did every other day of the week so he couldn't exactly argue that it wasn't enough information. It wasn't enough information. But he trusted John.

Besides that, there couldn't be some great mystery to looking married. They were already friends, knew more about each other, had done more together, and even destroyed a good portion of a solar system together. It wasn't like they had to put it together as a cited resume and hand it out to pass inspection. They just had to look married. Rodney could figure it out.

Chapter Text

John woke up with a wing over his face. It felt like when he sometimes woke up with his head under his pillow, but he was definitely laying on the pillow this time, and the soft, leathery weight lay over his forehead and jaw and ear. It was still pitch black in the room, given that it had no windows, so he couldn't see for certain that it was a dragon wing, but he felt confident in the guess. He very carefully rolled away, not interested in getting bit in the dark for the retreat. There was a persistent knocking on the door across the room and Ryli didn't seem to care; apparently she would not be a good candidate for guard-dragon. Rodney sounded like he was still solidly asleep, too.

John let himself out of bed and blurrily tried to remember his way to the lamp he had figured out the day before. The door kept up with the soft and insistent noise.

"Okay, give me a minute," John complained. He looked around for a shirt before remembering he had packed it. The watch on his wrist said he had been asleep hardly five hours, which was better than nothing, especially so far from home. It would do. He just had to silence the door first.

He got to the room doors and peeked out, surprised and embarrassed to see that it wasn't Ronon or Teyla on the other side, but rather Nova. The Aide was their usual level of observant and very quickly lifted their eyes to John's face even as he tried to hide behind the door.

"Excuse the interruption," they said politely. "But we must soon head out if we are to have time to hike to the Disk and return before midday rains."

"Right. Good to know," John replied. He looked over his shoulder. "Rodney! Wake up, we gotta go."

"Five more," came the muttered reply.

"No more. Buddy, let's go," John ordered. The blanket flipped back, accompanied by a squawk and a scramble as the man startled Ryli. John sighed as she disappeared under the bed. He looked back around the door edge at their host.

"We'll be out in a few minutes," he promised. "I'll… uh, I'll wake Ronon and Teyla, too."

Nova nodded understanding and stepped back from the door to go. John shut the door and turned around to see Rodney across the room, leaned down over the edge of the bed under the messed up covers to try to coax Ryli back out. The tossed covers provided a peek-a-boo of boxers and, John realized, Rodney’s ass angled up just barely enough to still be under them, and he looked quickly to the floor like the explanation to the scene was on the rug, pretending he hadn’t just caught an eyeful.

"I scared her," Rodney said miserably.

"She'll figure it out," John replied. "Let's go."

The moment Rodney got out of bed he had a dragon trying to climb him, which might have been funny if it didn’t involve blood and unhappy yowling from both Rodney and Ryli. John had gotten as far as finding a shirt by then and abandoned the rest to go collect the dragon from Rodney before there was actual injury more than just scratches.

“Jeeze, I hope I’m not allergic,” Rodney complained, staring down at the stripes on his leg. John held Ryli’s legs very carefully snug against his chest and stepped aside, where she could still stare at him but not freak out on him anymore. She draped her neck over John’s shoulder and was breathing fast, so Rodney’s yelps really had scared her. Also-

“She got bigger again,” he said, just to make the report. Rodney looked up at him long enough to glare. He motioned toward the finger-width spaces between not-quite-bleeding stripes coming down from his boxers.

“Yes, thank you, I wouldn’t have realized,” he replied. John scrunched his nose at him as Rodney sat down to investigate the damage better. He knew Rodney and all things medical didn’t go together well, and those scratches looked just mean enough to bother him. He wasn’t bleeding badly, had probably cut himself worse shaving, but dragon claws weren’t exactly a razor, either.

“Do we need to get Teyla in here to help?” John asked.

“What- Teyla’s not a medic,” said Rodney.

“Yeah, but if you need another set of hands, mine are a little full,” John replied. Rodney scowled about it but thought it over. He ultimately decided he wasn’t going to die, on his own, and went after his pack to start finding his clothes again. So John wandered around the room in his general vicinity so the dragon over his shoulder could stare at him and calm down. Rodney had at least gotten pants on before Ronon and Teyla opened the doors on their own invitation to make sure the shouting hadn’t been anything life-threatening. John gave up on the notion of self-respect returning on this trip, ever, at any point, until he could go home. He just rolled his eyes and tried to shush Ryli’s sudden hissing by petting her back between her wings.

“What happened?” their friends wanted to know and Rodney was very annoyed by their nosy concern as he struggled into his shirt.

“Dragons have claws,” he said. Generally, Ronon was very sarcastic and a prankster, but he had never looked at Rodney with an expression that so genuinely questioned the man’s sanity before that moment. John choked back a laugh and stayed out of it. When Rodney had all required clothes and shoes in place for the day, John tried to hand off the dragon and ended up with claws in his shirt. She had to be convinced before she jumped over on her own to wrap around Rodney’s shoulders.

“No scaring the dragons,” John announced, just to make it a rule, because that little routine was going to get annoying, real fast. Rodney muttered something about not doing it on purpose while Ronon reported there was food in the other room. Not one to complain about room service, Rodney quickly left to investigate and John was allowed to find his pants and his own boots in peace when his team left.

Nova had waited in the main room with the breakfast offering, but they didn’t ask what the commotion had been in John’s room. They did, however, seem much more amused by the team than they had the day before. They escorted the Atlantis team out to something like a stable and introduced them to a team of animals that looked like a cross between horses and long-nosed deer, all with saddles and headgear and ready to ride.

Rodney looked less than enthusiastic about the prospects, and Ronon seemed genuinely concerned that he was too tall for the animals and would make better time walking, but Nova insisted it was faster and safer on the "hoiths" because the animals had surer footing on some of the steeper trails.

The hoith wasn't all that different from riding a horse, so Sheppard wasn't bothered. He ended up taking Ryli from Rodney for most of the ride, as he had less of a learning curve to deal with than the one faced by the scientist who didn't grow up on a horse ranch. Ryli mostly didn't seem to mind, as long as John kept Rodney in sight; the few times they slipped around a corner without each other, she started making a high-pitched crackling noise that was likely not an ideal call to deal with when neither she nor her adopted humans had any idea exactly what might hear her and show up.

When they got to the stargate, Rodney was well beyond done with all things non-human, and even a few of those were on his grump-list, but he dialed home and set up his laptop to provide Nova with an audio and visual preview of Atlantis without requiring the suspicious aide de camp actually leave their home planet. They arranged it on a bunch of damp boulders and hoped the sky didn’t drop rain without warning again.

“Is everyone alright?” Elizabeth asked, sounding very quiet and small over the connection. Nova stood aside, wide-eyed and apparently unfamiliar with the concept of portable video technology, which made John feel a lot better about their odds in terms of the Cairnythian surveillance capabilities.

“Oh, all is fine,” Rodney said, awkward because he still sounded pissed off about having just ridden uphill on a gazelle-shaped horse for the last hour. Still stuck with babysitting duty while Rodney had seen to the technology, John held up Ryli enough that he figured Elizabeth would be able to see.

“Rodney got a little scratched up by his new pet, though, but the rest of us are fine,” he said. It was almost worth it because his boss looked shocked enough by what she saw that he half expected her to pass out.

“New pet- Is that what it looks like-” Weir began, slightly more spluttery than usual on an official call.

“A Coppi. And they imprint,” John said helpfully as Rodney shifted enough to glare at him. “This one on Rodney.”

“They’re trainable. We can keep her,” Rodney said quickly. He motioned toward Nova, waved them forward slightly to be in easier view with the rest of the team. “The people here said they’ll help us train her…”

And, because he was personally invested in selling a cat-sized bottle of snake oil to his boss, Rodney took over the introductions from there and played-virtual host to Nova over the connection to Atlantis. John took the excuse happily to back off, setting Ryli down to get her to run around and hopefully not impale Rodney with another jump onto his shoulders.

One of Nova’s people had charge of the bigger animals and watched Ryli warily, instantly cluing John in on his newest screw up. He wandered off to keep track of the no-longer tiny dragon to keep her away from their ride back down the hill, but he stayed within earshot of the conversations around the computer.

Chasing down Ryli kept him from getting yelled at in public about the potential for taking a dragon home to Atlantis, and it gave Nova more of a chance to quiz the Director. The more Elizabeth’s answers lined up with what AR-1 had shared, the more the cautious Cairnythians would be willing to work with them. It was a carefully formulated plot to keep himself out of trouble while also running damage-control on a dragon.

For all that she had wings, Ryli preferred to climb trees, so she kept to the edges of the clearing around the stargate. The one time she went to investigate the vortex itself, John hauled her up and carried her back to hand her to Rodney. Elizabeth looked sufficiently recovered from the first shock at seeing a dragon, and she was much better the second time around, as the animal climbed up onto Rodney’s shoulder and settled down to pant and chew on a strap from his vest. Apparently she had been too distracted climbing trees to find herself any beetles.

“You said another two days?” Elizabeth asked, her attention clearly on the dragon.

“She’s still very young, the basics should stick as long as the people around her learn to use and reinforce them,” Nova answered. They nodded but also shrugged their shoulders. “A minimum of a week would be much safer, but it is your choice.”

“I don’t want to impose my team on your hospitality too long,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

“We would be remiss to allow them to keep the animal untrained,” Nova replied. “After a fashion, she is an Omen, and we would have her welcomed by your people well.”

“An Omen?” Elizabeth asked, her eyebrow going up. John straightened his shoulders a bit and stood up at attention. That wasn’t a subject they could get into without Elizabeth getting a more comprehensive briefing than they could handle around Nova.

“Long story, Doc. We’ll loop you in when we get home. This laptop’s only got so much power and if we’re here for a few more days…” he said, letting the implication stand on its own. Elizabeth nodded.

“Yes, of course. Well, don’t overstay your welcome, Colonel. We’ll dial in for radio check-ins every twelve hours. But please don’t bring home any more wild animals,” she said. John nodded and took that under advisement, but he knew better than to make any promises after the way the trip had gone so far.

They shut down the connection and Rodney started packing up the laptop with Ryli still balanced on his shoulder. So recently reminded of his role as the scientist's lifepartner, John was quick to scrounge up the gear bag and help. The task was made more difficult than it had to be because a small dragon kept jumping from Rodney to John, circling around their shoulders and back. She was either entertaining herself or pacing but, either way, John guessed it was a sign of anxiousness.

"Thank you for the introduction to Atlantis. Your Director seemed very knowledgeable and kind," said Nova. They waved for the larger animals to be prepared but mostly kept their attention on the team. "However, now we should hurry to return. The signs are that it will rain soon, and as you have seen, it can be dangerous on the road then."

Given the way Ryli kept pacing from one side to the other, John was willing to bet one of the signs was the dragon. They headed back and Rodney kept her, figuring he had the hang of riding. John rode beside him or just ahead on the narrower parts of the trail, trying to keep Ryli from making more of that god-awful alarm noise. She might have imprinted on Rodney, but she was definitely opinionated about John, too.

It started to rain once they got back down to the main road to the city, which meant the group spent the last five minutes of their ride getting drenched. Rodney, however, had a dragon perched on his backpack, sitting up but lazy about it, so she leaned on his head like he was her own personal pillow as she watched the ride ahead of them. John could hear her purring.

So when the rain started up, Ryli raised her lopsided wings to cover her own head, leaving Rodney with a blue and black hood that almost matched his jacket. John was left to get soaked, but he was amused by the sight anyway. Ryli had a slight underbite that made her lower jaw stick out just slightly, especially when she was stretched out over somebody's head, and it accidentally mirrored Rodney's scowl at the rain in his face.

Dismount was difficult enough with everything in the courtyard outside the stables soaking wet and the rain falling. John didn't have any gear, or a dragon, and still he nearly slipped. Playing the courteous partner, Ronon scooped Teyla from the saddle like she weighed nothing. For one thing, she didn't weigh much even soaking wet, and for another, Ronon was tall enough that he hardly had to step off the animal that carried him. It was normal and casual as anything as the man carried Teyla out of the rain, away from the weird horses. The whole gentleman-routine worked particularly well when his pretend-partner was inclined to accept it and Teyla’s surprised laugh followed them out of the courtyard.

In contrast, Rodney, for many reasons, was not a man to be swept off his feet to be saved from falling out of a rain-soaked saddle. The stable attendant held the hoith still but John was still going to help. The best he could do was take the pack and the dragon with it to free up Rodney’s hands and help him jump down. Ryli had more opinions about being passed to John but she ultimately went along with it, albeit loudly.

When Rodney was safe on the ground, John hung on to the backpack of gear and his friend’s hand for the walk back inside. It kept them closer, bumping shoulders like usual, but he slid his fingers between Rodney’s, as casual as he could be about it but still surprised by something small and new from something familiar.

Rodney had expected to at least get his own space back but he glanced over at John and a moment later seemed to remember the con he had signed them both up for. There were entire seconds where John forgot to breathe, worried for indefinable reasons, until Rodney squeezed his hand and the smallest smile tugged at his lips, and then things were fine.

The arrangement worked for Ryli because the animal bounced back and forth between them. She didn't weigh much, not even ten pounds, but that was still weight neither of her preferred humans were used to and they quickly grew tired of it. At least when she sat on the pack, the weight distributed easier, but pouncing on their shoulders was a different game. Rodney eventually snuck his hand free, pulled the dragon down from John’s shoulder, to carry her in both arms instead. The weird little dragon started up her weird little purr again.

They returned to their rooms to dry off and found bright coats and a few days of simple clothes to change into. It was probably Nova's polite way of informing the strangers that they stunk like dragon and rain and dirt and, of course, the hoith-beasts they had rode out to the stargate. John would gladly accept the hospitality, but he also knew none of his team smelled like roses.

Trying to figure out how to take a shower in the thankfully fully-plumbed en suite was an experience, considering Ryli didn’t like the door standing between her and either of her humans. John tried to keep her chased under the bed while Rodney showered, and he heard Rodney talking to Ryli to distract her when it was his turn to figure out how the weird Cairnythian handshower-thing worked. Ryli made clacking noises at him like he was wrong and, from another room, John wasn’t sure how McKay was holding up to the very clear judgement from a three-day-old dragon.

The other gift that had been left waiting was a leather harness for Ryli. Getting her into it was a two-person effort, and it was a good thing she had chosen her own humans, otherwise it would have failed and turned bloody from the start. She bit John twice, but didn't draw blood. They were warning bites and he had gotten used to them.

As John tried to pin her legs, however, Ronon tried to help Rodney with the buckles between the wings, crisscrossed across the back and under a hardy loop attached to the pieces that went around her ribs, and Ronon got really bit. He had been hurt worse fighting in the gym and was offended by the suggestion that they ask after a doctor.

"She didn't bite that hard," Ronon said, holding up the crescent mark on the inside of his arm. She even missed the tattoo and the pokey teeth were too small to leave any scars. "It's fine."

"When's the last time you got bit by a bug on an alien planet?" Rodney pointed out. "We should at least ask."

"I'm not going to turn into a bug," Ronon replied. That rankled and John gave his friends a flat look for the reminder.

"Dragon, not a bug," he said, cutting in. "And Rodney's right. We have to ask."

The good news was that the dragon was successfully in the harness, and it had a useful carrying handle across the back which made it easier to keep her from jumping on people claws-first. There was a leash, too, but not even Rodney could figure out how it worked. So Ryli was as civilized as they could make her until actual trainers showed up to help, and she celebrated that by doing zoomies down the hall and around the furniture.

Not sure how to ask Nova about the bite problem without tracking them down, John headed for the main doors of the wing they had been granted. He was just reaching for the handle when they opened, Nova and two strangers on the other side suddenly letting themselves in. That was useful timing.

"Colonel," Nova greeted. They gave the team the usual once-over and nodded. "Oh, I see the gifts fit. And they suit you. The Regent will be pleased."

John glanced down at the blue and black coat he wore; he hadn't figured out the sideways buttoning thing and it lay open and rumpled after the fight with Ryli. But if their host said it worked, he wasn't going to look the gift horse in the mouth.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," he began, distracted by the dragon-problem. "Look, what happens with bites? Ryli just bit Dex. These guys aren't poisonous or anything, right?"

Nova waved their two shadows into the room to close the doors again and keep Ryli from escaping among her dashing back and forth across the room.

"This is Harker and Toure, trainers with the lowland brigades. They are our most experienced with the Coppi and will certainly be able to help with a bite," said Nova as they moved into the room. The two men with them were quick to introduce themselves, ranks and everything, before Toure started quizzing Ronon on the bite and Harker started asking Rodney about Ryli.

John mostly tried to stay out of the way, tracking two conversations at once easily enough because Ronon's answers to things were just barely more than monosyllabic. He didn't know Toure, so no, the man could not treat the bite without first explaining exactly why a Coppi bite needed to be treated.

John tried fixing the unbuttoned coat but without tracking down a mirror, he kept getting them aligned wrong and that was worse than having the weird flaps winging around at his sides. Teyla stood off to the side just enough that he caught her attention and she eased over to see what he wanted.

"Help. Please?" he asked, just barely a whisper as he flicked at the uncooperative buttons. Teyla's lips tugged up on one side and she tilted her head vaguely toward where Nova stood at the windows, supervising their trainers.

"You should ask Rodney," she replied, just as quiet. It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that it would be weirder to ask McKay but he caught her meaning just in time.

"Yeah, great idea," he muttered. Teyla returned to watching over Ronon around strangers, and John fussed with his coat a minute or so more. Ryli had been caught mid-zooms and panted in Rodney's arms, not looking happy as he ignored her and instead talked to Harker about the barely successful harnessing effort.

John watched Harker tell Rodney to let Ryli down again and asked after the leash.

"It's in the other room. One minute," Rodney replied. He headed off for the hall and the bedroom, and Ryli went skittering after him. John walked, thankfully, but he felt just as stupid, chasing after them. He got to the doors just as Rodney was about to leave and tugged his arm to get him back in the room.

"What-"

"I can't figure the jacket thing out. Help," he said, quiet and quick. He didn't tack on a please this time because Rodney was in a hurry and John was well aware it was stupid that a full grown Air Force Lt. Colonel couldn't figure out how to button a jacket. "They put the damn thing together sideways. I don't get it."

Rodney stared at him, frowned, and then handed him the leash to hold so he could fix the buttons. Unlike every attempt John had made, Rodney started at the four buttons at the shoulder rather than in the middle. Which probably made sense, but there was absolutely nothing wrong with a coat that went straight down the middle, either. And it just made him nervous because Rodney was standing right in front of him, warm hands right next to his face, a weight at his shoulder that John wanted to lean into.

That impulse was usually something easily shoved down; that wasn’t their thing, everything else was their thing. Rodney was his friend, his backup, John’s default for pretty much everything and they crawled into each other’s space all the time. That was just how they were.

Now their thing was being checked up on, with Rodney asking him how to act, even Teyla telling him what it was supposed to look like. John could do it in a heartbeat, lean in like he wanted to, and it would be exactly what people expected of them, even though there was nobody around. John had been married so he knew what that all looked like, knew what it felt like.

It just didn’t feel as different as it was supposed to be at home, and once he had permission to share like that, it was going to be hard to stuff back in the box. Rodney started it, but the genius didn’t know what he’d asked, and it wasn’t like John could spell it out. He just had to figure it out because he said he would. And John couldn’t even figure out the damn coat.

Rodney had checked his vest for him plenty of times, that wasn’t much different than the tug-and-pull at the coat as he arranged buttons down his chest. But it was different when John had been hanging on to the man’s hand a half an hour earlier. He had been just fine before, when Rodney wasn’t paying attention. Now they both noticed when John ducked his head down to watch Rodney fix the coat, and John didn’t know if that was okay anymore. The twenty buttons that settled diagonally from shoulder to hip didn't snag up so much after that and Rodney left the last few for John to figure out, like a big kid, on his own.

"There. Better," Rodney said.

"Thank you," said John.

"How you made it out of boot camp without understanding how buttons work is beyond me, but you're welcome." The taunting dismissal was accompanied by taking the leash back.

"Not funny," John hissed back at him but he still left the room on Rodney's heels. Ryli figured out they left thirty seconds later and went careening down the hall after them like she was lined up on the runway for take off. That didn't end well when the humans stopped in the main room and her brakes failed. Again.

Chapter Text

The first problem on Rodney's list had been handled. He had made up his mind that he was keeping Ryli and the largest hurdle to that was Elizabeth. He knew it because he saw the reluctance from John. The guy was very careful with wrangling the dragon, but he turned into a growling grump if the topic got close to wrangling the dragon through the stargate. It made complete sense, they couldn't endanger anyone in the city just in the interests of having a pet. But if the pet could be trained, there would be no danger.

And for all the rude words like heartless and emotionally dead and asshole that the science department liked to whisper about their boss, Rodney wasn't any of those things, and he would not abandon a small creature that had an iota of intelligence and no way to comprehend the situation to a butcher shop. When the whole imprint thing wore off, if she was too big for the city, Ryli could go to the mainland. They had options that weren't as cut and dry as abandoning a baby animal to confusion and certain death. He couldn't do it. And with Elizabeth's reluctant blessing, he didn't have to.

So the second difficult task was the actual training part. Because dragon claws really did hurt, and Rodney didn't want to doom his team to being bitten and hissed at. He would prefer the human-scratching-post habit be nipped in the bud, quickly, as well. Ryli didn't attack on purpose, only when she was scared, or confused… or when Rodney made the effort at walking away without permission. She may have slightly tyrannical viewpoints, but she was only three days old. She would outgrow them, with help. Rather like a cat. Whether John approved of the comparison or not.

He was also not used to animals anymore, at all, and one that was like a cat but very much not like a cat was so far a lot more work than Rodney remembered his kittens had been. Cats were simple. With a litter box and some food and the appropriate amount of scritches, they were good, quiet companions, calm and suitable for an apartment life. Rodney still had the apartment life, but he wasn't sure Ryli would appreciate it.

He would definitely have to invest in more rugs. She was already damaged and so far excelled at sliding into walls when her feet refused to stop on the slick marble flooring. Atlantis floors were somewhat textured but still smooth, and that was not even accounting for the number of people she would have to learn to dodge. Assuming she stayed small… but Rodney had no clue in that regard. And would she be okay without any other dragon- Coppi, whatever - for company? Depression could hurt animals as badly as humans...

He had so many questions and only a week to get them answered. The training offer was impressive, and Rodney's suspicious nature suspected there had to be a play somewhere, another shoe had to be waiting to drop. But the offer to share knowledge was an inherently kind trade, and valuable, and Rodney wasn't one to discredit education. The multiple degrees on his wall also testified to the fact that he was fully capable of learning new things, and he could learn a lot in a week's time. He just had to use it wisely.

With Captains Harker and Toure, the team from Atlantis had a font of knowledge to learn from, and it all started with how to secure the leash to the harness. Which Ryli tolerated more benevolently than she had the harness itself. Once she was used to it, Harker promised, she would stop trying to chew on it. The sections under the wings were reinforced for that reason; where Ryli could reach the harness, she gnawed at it, and hissed at it like it was a living thing. (She had a brain… it was just small and still developing.) And once she was stuck on the leash, Ryli kept trying to climb up John's leg or Rodney's to get away from the extra strap, depending on who was stuck with the other end of the leash.

"This is normal. She is still very young," Toure said.

"It would be less annoying if she did it to other people," said John with his usually unhappy grimace. He had a dragon hiding her face in his jacket collar and her wispy mane along her neck tickling his chin. "And that's a thing here… how do we get her to stop biting our team? There's four of us she has to get used to. More at home…"

"She'll grow out of it," said Harker.

"Eventually," added Toure. "Not overnight or something easy like that, of course. Exposure and work. If she learns trust now, she'll be better around others when she's older."

"So, no scaring the dr- Coppi," muttered Rodney, wincing.

"No, don't do that yet," agreed Harker. John caught Rodney's attention as he sulked and before he knew it, Rodney was being handed a cuddly dragon. He took the other end of the leash and Ryli settled in.

"So if Teyla and Ronon can't work with Ryli, can they learn how to deal with older ones while we work with her?" John asked. Rodney nodded agreement with that idea.

"Yes, we can cover more ground that way, different stages," Rodney said. "If we only have a week-"

"We would have to consult the Regent and the Queen on whether we could borrow the royal Coppi for the day," said Harker. "Tomorrow, before the rains, we can go down to the lowlands for the larger animals, that's where we will work with the broader training."

"How far away is that?" John asked. "We have to stay within a few hours walk of the Disk for check-ins."

"The bottom of the mountain, south toward the sea. It is roughly four hours travel, so if it’s acceptable, it would be better to relocate for training," said Toure.

"Yeah, that's fine. I might have to move our ship on the way out," said John. He was frowning again though. Rodney realized then that they would have to separate in order to move the Jumper, and they had no idea if they could take Ryli on the Jumper without scaring her. Considering she took offense to the bathroom door, the prospects of the Jumper being a smooth learning experience for her were slim. The small dragon was definitely turning into a lot of work.

"For today, let's go over the basics," said Harker. "And if the Regent is agreed, we can socialize the Coppi at mealtime."

If he was honest, the suggestion of socializing Ryli with the other Coppi was exciting. It meant seeing more Coppi, and there was the unknown question of whether or not Ryli would even get along with her own kind if she had imprinted on Rodney. That had to be something the Coppi trainers would have a handle on, if they bred the animals for war. But it was information that would wait.

In the meantime, the basics sounded easy enough. Rodney had only brought backup power for his tablet, however, and it would have to stretch out longer than expected, which meant he couldn't take notes. He had an excellent memory and wasn't worried about it, but the option would have been nice.

Rodney could remember that Ryli was an omnivore and would require plants and meat-based protein other than beetles. They didn't have access to the agricultural department on Atlantis at that moment, but Rodney was willing to bet that the nutritional content of the foods available at home would be comparable to those in Cairnyth for her, based on the fact that Rodney had been able to eat the foods from their hosts so far. Barring allergies, of course, it likely went both ways.

The problem would come from treats for training her; Atlantis was on rations too often to hoard jerky in large enough amounts… but she did like the stuff. It got her down onto the ground despite the leash, and her wings gradually settled down from their alarmed half-raised position. Her eyes focused on the bag once she learned what was in it and she followed it cautiously, hunting it, no matter who held it, though she wouldn't move close to Ronon or Toure, even for a treat. Teyla talked her into taking a piece, from her hand, and no biting happened. Ryli tried to snap the bag out of her hand, though, and then immediately jumped up and ran off.

It was progress. But the dragon still ran zoomies, crashed into walls, and added tripping over the leash to her skill set.

"She is clumsy," Toure observed.

"Her wings won't lay evenly," said Rodney. "Could that be throwing off her center of gravity? Or maybe she's just too young?"

"Maybe," came the reply, but the trainers didn't like the news about her wings. They left her wandering around, watching her as she sniffed under furniture and tried to climb under a bookshelf into a space that was hardly big enough for the end of her snout.

“At what point do we worry about brain damage?” John asked. Rodney would have glared at him for it but he had been thinking similar.

“She will not know the difference between that and a fallen log,” Teyla pointed out, rolling her eyes at the question. “She has been playing outside all day. It is too soon to understand where her body will not be able to fit.”

“Yes,” agreed Harker. “I am more concerned about her wings. Those are important at this stage.”

Harker pulled out the treat bag again and instantly Ryli’s attention turned from whatever she had been trying to dig out from under the bookshelf to the man with the jerky bits. She approached slowly, each clawed hand set down carefully and intentionally as she gave the trainers a wide berth, leaning toward Rodney but keeping her eyes on the bag. Harker passed it over to Rodney. “Please remove the harness so we can check her wings.”

“She doesn’t like people handling her,” John pointed out. Still, he hefted her up and pinned her legs against his chest. Ryli didn’t seem to mind, her attention still on the treats. Rodney fed her another one before detaching the wove-in leash and unlatching the buckles on the harness. But the trainers didn’t try touching the dragon, just directed her back to the ground to watch her move without the harness and leash. As before, one wing would not settle in against her back, and it was slightly more pronounced now that the harness wasn’t holding both wings away from the body.

The experiment caught Nova’s attention and the aide edged away from their observations at the window to see the Coppi for themself.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate,” said Toure. The captain seemed genuinely unhappy, too.

“What?” Rodney asked, impatient but trying. “What kind of unfortunate? Is she okay?”

“The Coppi are very adaptive, Dr. McKay,” said Nova. “They naturally form to their environments. It’s why we keep our training grounds at the lowlands. More open space, fewer trees, and the sea… they get quite large. The other eggs from her brood, for instance, will grow to their potential, while her sire is probably no more than four times her size, because of the trees.”

Rodney wasn’t sure where to start. “Atlantis is on the ocean- I’m sorry, what about the other eggs?”

“We retrieved them this morning. We’ll take them with us tomorrow,” said Toure.

“All of them?” asked John. “That was a… that was a whole cave… we thought they were just piles of rocks.”

“As the Provost said, they are adaptive," replied Harker, motioning toward Nova. "Unless the brood is minded by their sire, they will not hatch. An entire cave of them is not uncommon, as the animals do not always create nests to return to. The Coppi either develop or they do not, and the cold keeps them viable longer, staying dormant. We will incubate those from the cave and see how many survive. It could be many, it could be few."

"With this one," Toure pointed to Ryli as she curled up with her head on Rodney's boot. "She was likely from an older brood, as fast as she has grown. But their bodies do not grow correctly when left too long in the cold. They stop. And if they are stopped for too long, they will deteriorate. Which may be the damage to her wing."

"Well, is she okay?" Rodney asked again. John bumped his shoulder, standing close like he wanted to reach over to take Ryli but he stopped, crossed his arms and jostled into him instead. Rodney didn't actually mind the space invasion just then and leaned into it.

"Yes, she should be fine. But she will likely not fly if this doesn't heal itself," said Toure. "And she will not get very large. Their body sizes do not challenge their ability to care for themselves, so when they cannot support their own weight, they do not grow."

Nova seemed unsettled by the announcement, too. They let out an apologetic sounding sigh and crossed their arms, for once not seeming to be disapproving of the project involving the strangers from Atlantis.

"Dr. McKay, I am sorry for this turn," they said. "After our arrangements with your Director Weir… Well, we intended her for our Omen to Atlantis. But she is not healthy and this is an irreparable damage. We cannot allow a burden as an Omen. Would you accept another in her place?"

That was an unexpected offer and Rodney's jaw went slack. Beside him, John lost the determination to stay where he was and reached down to pull Ryli up off the floor. Before Rodney fully realized it, he was being handed the small dragon again.

"Nope, thank you. This one is the one he signed up for," John said. "We'll just… try training without the harness to see if maybe her wing heals up on its own."

Rodney nodded. "She's fine."

Teyla stood up from her place on the couch to better enter the discussion, catching Nova's attention before the Provost could disagree with John and Rodney on the dragon. It was a reminder that diplomacy and tact were still called for, neither of them Rodney's strong suits. But really, what was the point in suggesting a replacement dragon when they were in the mess to begin with because Rodney didn't want to send Ryli to the butcher-

"Captain Harker, in light of her injuries, will Ryli be happy on her own? Or should she have a companion of her own kind? You mentioned socialization, but she would be the only Coppi on Atlantis," Teyla pointed out. "Would that be further harm?"

"Well, it may not harm, but she would be less likely to thrive. And she will be handicapped by the wing as it is, so, I would guess you aren't wrong about that," Harker said, nodding. Teyla looked to John then, eyebrow raised.

"I would like to suggest we attempt to hatch a second egg from what they brought back from the cave, and if that is agreeable, for it to make up for the Cairnythian's traditional Omen," Teyla said. Because she was smart and always thinking, especially when her team was distracted by dragons, which Rodney thought was perfectly reasonable under the circumstances. "We may have nothing to offer in return, but I do not believe we should disregard their wishes for an Omen of their choosing."

"I was just about to suggest that," John said, nodding. He looked to Nova and smiled. "And we'll keep Ryli to save your team the trouble. Not as an Omen, just… a Coppi we happened to find on the trip."

Rodney was fairly certain no one believed John had been about to suggest anything, but maybe he was biased by the fact that John still stood close and had caught his elbow like he did when they were about to make a hasty exit, stage left. Teyla had given him the diplomatic response and he took it. Rodney almost smiled, smug at yet another confirmation that he wasn't the only one worried about the not-a-cat Coppi.

But it was still up to Provost Nova and the Regent. Their Omens, their rules. And in the full scope of things, none of them would put the Coppi over the lives of their team, so the game got down to the wishes of their hosts.

Nova didn't look fully confident about it, but they nodded. "I will present it to the Regent. I'm sure he will find that agreeable."

The question put a pause on the training plans, however. Diplomatic relations were touchy like that, and annoying, and Rodney settled Ryli over his arm to carry her as the team was escorted out to an audience with the Regent.

"So this means I can have one that's not going to bite me?" Ronon asked as they walked. John kept pace with Rodney and scrunched his nose before looking back over his shoulder at Ronon.

"We're not exactly looking to start a petting zoo here. Don't get too excited," he said. "The offer was one."

"Which makes a total of two," replied Ronon. "And sometimes two ends up with more."

Rodney hadn't considered that technicality. "Well… maybe the other egg will also be a girl and sometimes won't be applicable."

It wouldn't be enough to save John's blood pressure, but the Colonel kept quiet, for diplomatic reasons most likely, and didn't pursue the subject any further. They arrived at an antechamber and were asked to wait as Nova took Harker along into an office beyond another large set of double doors. Toure was left out as their supervisor, but the Atlantis team really did seem to have a lot of trust to be included so freely. Rodney waited impatiently, staring up at all the hand carved wall trim, as Ryli rumbled her strange purring with her head tucked in his jacket collar.

A few minutes later the doors opened and Nova waved the team inside. The Regent welcomed them with a somber sort of smile; the man had annoyingly blue eyes that reminded Rodney of looking in a mirror, so it was obvious to him when the expression didn't match between the smile and the eyes. He leaned more than stood against the front edge of a heavy-looking desk, his arms crossed adding to the impression that he was as unhappy about their dragon problem as Nova had been. The man also seemed to have the same trouble with the buttons of his coat that John had, though Rodney wasn't inclined to help him with that issue.

"You're sure you want to keep one from a delayed brood?" the Regent asked. "They can be prone to these health annoyances. And they are not always easily fixed when they finally present."

"We understand that, Wes," said John, at once reminding Rodney the man had asked to forgo the title that Nova preferred they use. John shifted then to catch Ryli's attention and get her to stop hiding against Rodney. She bit at the hand in play and tried climbing over Rodney's arm to trade humans. He was pretty sure that hadn't been the plan, but John allowed it so Rodney let her go.

"As far as we're concerned, we found her and we woke her up before we got here. We didn't do it on purpose, but it's still a responsibility we took on. That's on us. So we'll just figure it out as we go," John said. He shrugged and Ryli made a cackling noise in protest as she adjusted again. "She adopted us, that makes her part of the team. And like Rodney said, we don't leave anybody behind."

"And should there be concerns for her health along the way, we can return to our friends here and trust we will find the answers that exist," added Teyla. "She would not be a parting gift, as I understand your ways. Correct?"

"Certainly not," replied the Regent. He seemed to relax then, because Teyla's smile had that effect on people. "But this is an… unorthodox arrangement. Lacking the more traditional exchange, we would wish for an Omen that contributes to the mutual benefit over time."

"We're still talking Coppi then, right?" asked John.

"A whole and healthy companion for your Coppi would be a welcome exchange, yes," said Wes. "So you can experience the benefits of these animals as more than house pets. We have an educated and capable society, Colonel, not merely idle beasts that cannot contribute. That should be reflected in even our Coppi Omen."

"Oh, we believe that," agreed John with a nod. "We're the ones that aren't able to meet your traditional exchange beyond more than the promise of the market days. That doesn't mean we're anything idle, either. But we will accept another Coppi, one that you choose this time."

"I'll leave that responsibility to Captain Harker, as the expert," said Wes.

The Coppi on John's shoulder lay her head down over his spiky hair and immediately regretted it, picking a fight with it in retaliation, complete with hissing, until she had settled it down into the pillow she had apparently been expecting it to be. John winced but allowed it, motioned toward the mess. "Good idea, since the one I picked out was starting to spoil. Dex can try to raise the new one up right."

That didn't seem to be the right answer, either, but even though he wasn’t happy with it, Wes didn't argue. He looked to his trainers instead. "Captain Harker, if you and Toure would find Specialist Dex and his partner a more suitable Coppi. We have a few days, I have been informed, but we should begin as soon as possible."

The two nodded and stomped their heels like it was some kind of salute before turning to lead the way out of the office again. Rodney was used to the military doing things in their own particular ways and didn't ask. He started to turn to follow them out but Wes called him back. It caught Nova's attention, too, and the Aide Provost waited at the doors for John and Rodney. Rodney suddenly felt like he had been sent to the principal's office.

"Nova, accompany Specialist Dex on the selection. I'll see the Colonel and Dr. McKay to the guest hall," said Wes.

"Regent-"

"Now, please, Nova."

They nodded and left, no stomped salute as they weren't military, and the doors closed behind them. Rodney reached up to extract Ryli from John's shoulder, partly because he was anxious and holding her kept his hands busy, and partly because if the Regent wanted the room cleared, it likely wasn't a chat one had with a dragon on their head. The Regent still leaned on the edge of the desk, but he waved them toward chairs nearby.

"If you're agreeable, I would like a moment of your time," he said in invitation. "I am not sure you fully understand the importance of our traditions here, and I don't want to risk such a potentially unique alliance on a… misinterpretation."

That… did not sound like anything good. As they settled into their chairs, John looked to Rodney, with the face he got when things were about to go South.

"That seems more than reasonable," Rodney said, feeling things out more than having any confidence in it. He saw John tilt his chin in something like agreement and figured he was close enough. "We don't want that to happen, either."

"Good. Then I was wondering, would you tell me, about your partnership? The two of you behave differently than others, even differently from your own team. I'm not sure things are entirely clear..." Wes let the question hang there, watching them both, his arms crossed again over the open jacket and the embroidered shirt under it.

Again, John looked over at Rodney for an answer, but Rodney was distracted trying to figure out how to back out of the conversation entirely. This wasn't his area, the diplomatic negotiations or the lying to save them, neither were things he was good at. After a moment, John rubbed his hands on the armrests of his chair and shrugged, attention going back to the Regent.

"Well, people are just like that," he said, which seemed a reasonable track to chase. "Rodney and me have just… always been that way. Almost since we met. Entire years now."

Rodney bobbed his head in quick agreement. "We've been in this galaxy for three years, and we were partners before we got here."

He could stick to the truth, and John could back him up in that.

"Partners in what meaning of the word?" Wes insisted. "Because I believe that is where the problem is."

"Life partners, as you said," said Rodney, trying diligently not to trip over the words. "We quite literally do everything together. Even handle the Coppi, apparently."

"While I believe that's likely true, I don't think you and I would offer up the same definition of the word," replied Wes. "And when it comes to discussion of the Omen, I do not want to see it disrespected by implying that friendship alone, or a business arrangement, could be somehow stronger than a relationship forged to connect civilizations."

The quiet that fell then could almost be described as guilty and Rodney wasn't sure how to recover. They were very intentionally leaning on the loophole of the word; Rodney trusted John more than anyone else and would follow him to Hell with intent to drag him back, but in the meaning of the Cairnythians, they weren't married. They weren't even dating, not that they had ever had time to even consider getting around the details behind that suggestion. Not that Rodney hadn't considered it before. They just couldn't.

But they couldn't agree to have one or the other of them married off to a stranger, either. Rodney was shit at navigating politics, but he was confident on that much. And John was very determined not to look at him, locked in a staring contest with Wes.

"With the respect owed to your traditions, Regent, I'm not sure how else we're supposed to say this," said John. He didn't sound angry, exactly, but he was cornered the same way Rodney felt.

"Honestly, would be appreciated," replied Wes. "Because thus far, reports are that it has not been fairly handled, from your part of your team. And, as it is your team, Colonel, this reflects poorly on Atlantis."

"That's not-" Rodney stopped talking, stuck as much as knowing it wasn't the right claim to make. Meeting an accusation of a lie with another lie would only bury them all deeper. John leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and his body tensed to move.

"Wes. I'll try this again..." said John, careful. "I cannot volunteer as Omen as I already have a partner, I love him, and that is where my commitment goes. That’s what you’re asking, right? The Omen can't take that from Rodney and me, and none of us would want it to. Not even for Atlantis."

In Rodney’s experience, Sheppard could shut down anything and drop into soldier-mode as easily as the two trainers who had just left the room. When the guy with the rank told a soldier that the sky was green, the soldier's job was to say "Yes sir." Colonel Sheppard could do that, too… when he wanted to. It was as if there was a special skill to saying what the commanding officer expected to be true, and John would rely on it in the oddest times. At home, it wasn't a guarantee that he would go along with it, particularly if it was relating to anything personal. In the field, when they didn't know the exact consequences of disrespectful behavior toward another culture's beliefs, that was a good excuse to use the skill set.

Still, there was a blatant honesty from his friend, and Rodney couldn't figure out if it was the Colonel selling the Regent what he wanted to be assured of, or if he relied on the same truth Rodney had to skirt around the details.

“You’ll have to forgive my reasons for doubting this position,” the Regent replied after a long quiet. He moved to sit at his desk and Rodney realized that a section of the glass topped desk was tilted, angled for whoever was sitting on the other side. The desk itself was massive, carved wood, but at least one portion of it was equipped with tech. Touch-screen tech, from what Rodney could spy from his chair across from it. He remembered the intermittent energy readings from his own devices when he had toured the old buildings the day before. His jaw went slack. The Cairnyth city was ancient and filled with geniuses and students and artists. And they incorporated their technologies rather than built it out flashy and loud. They had dragons for that, apparently. Everything got ten times more interesting suddenly and yet just as dangerous.

“What’s that?” he asked, cautious but too curious for his own good. Wes looked up to see him stretching his neck to see and the Regent waved his hand at the angled glass he tapped at.

“We have our own technologies, Dr. McKay, though ours were designed to be less portable than yours. This is a computer, I imagine not unlike yours,” Wes said. He looked up at Rodney and John again from the screen. “From the reports from my people, you do not speak kindly to each other in regular conversation, and you, Colonel Sheppard, are more outwardly affectionate toward Teyla in particular, than with Dr. McKay. No one who has come into contact with you believes you to be anything more than people who work together, at best, which calls the truth of the Omen into question.”

“Now just a minute,” cut in the same Dr. McKay who had just been slighted twice in the space of two minutes, first by being called a liar - which perhaps he was, but that was beside the point - and secondly by the implication that he was a liar and a cuckold, however theoretical the marriage was that was being violated. Cuddled in his lap, Ryli suddenly bit his hand when he tried to get animated because the small thing had a ridiculously effective prey-drive for anything that moved fast. She didn't draw blood, just gnawed enough to hold him still and, in the process, remind him not to threaten royalty by accident. Rodney stilled and checked his attitude but was no less annoyed with the situation in front of him.

"Teyla is, for all intents and purposes, the second authority on this team, Regent. She is an almost equal-shares administrator of the city of Atlantis as the leader of her people who live and work with us. That familiarity they have as teammates and leaders is not anything to be offended over, we all rely on it, in fact,” Rodney said, blunt as usual. “And for another thing, how John and I speak to each other is, again, not at all indicative of our relationship. For the record, wit and sarcasm are often disguised as joshing and teasing and they are highly attractive signs of intelligence.”

“Which, to translate that, means that Rodney yells at me when he’s mad at the hoith because he’s not used to riding, and I am, and he’s jealous, and he’s glad one of us is capable at it, and it’s how he shows affection,” added John. Rodney glanced over at him and saw the smug smirk on the Colonel’s face and had to bite his tongue on “yelling” at him again for being right. He didn't like being that obvious, generally.

“I didn’t yell,” he said instead, annoyance carefully stomped down. “It would have scared Ryli, and for all I knew it could have caused a hoith stampede.”

“I was right there, you would have been fine,” John replied, rolling his eyes. Rodney waved at the subtle expression.

“This is what I deal with. This is why I yell, though if you consider this yelling...”

John nodded and shrugged. “All that’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

Rodney stared at him, genuinely frustrated from the entire situation and John's chosen method for handling it. It was hard not to notice the man had sat back in his chair slightly, leaned on the armrest more to relax as he stared back. Normally, the whole relaxing-thing wouldn't be done until they had cleared the danger zone, but Rodney didn't see how John arguing about it helped them succeed in that. If ever there was an excellent time to not be himself, it would have been when someone with a platoon of soldiers at their beck and call was expecting them to act married of all damn things, and how the hell was Rodney supposed to take the lead on that? He had dated often enough but that never involved arguing until the end, and Rodney and Sheppard argued about mythical offenses for fun when there weren't any real ones. On this one topic, John was supposed to be the expert, damn it. And John just smiled at him until he looked away and back to their nosy host.

"This is how we are, Wes. That's it. That's what your people report in on. That's just… it. I don't know how you want us to dress it up," John told the Regent. Wes still looked less than convinced, but he was considering it.

"The onus of the situation is to respect my people's traditions, gentlemen. These things are not entered into lightly. Not on our part. So please understand that the accommodations we are already making raise eyebrows. When people don't understand why they are made, it breeds ill will we do not want. It in fact negates the entire reason for the tradition to start with," Wes finally said.

"So, what, you'd rather we lie?" Rodney asked, not actually considering his words before they were out. "I can tell you now that I'm a terrible liar."

John looked very close to laughing but instead just nodded and raised a hand to point at him. "He is. Good point."

"I would rather my people don't believe our efforts to meet the Omen are being wasted," replied Wes. "However you can manage it. It will only get worse when you leave for training, as that's more people to meet. More questions I will have to answer."

Rodney wasn't sure if he was offended or amused; somehow he and Sheppard were an embarrassment to Atlantis, in the whole tangled up situation, and the aggrieved royal of another planet was having to justify a gifted dragon to jumpstart trade. The dragon who knocked over the first domino on everything sat in Rodney's lap, half asleep, holding his wrist under her paw.

"It's not very friendly to feel like you're being spied on," John pointed out, cautious with the accusation. Wes looked over at him directly, not at all offended apparently.

"And yet you're strangers here, and stand out among my people. Am I supposed to tell everyone not to look?" he asked. That was a valid enough point. But Rodney remembered the radio feedback static he had already seen around the castle grounds and he didn't quite believe it was all so innocent as the city's rumor mill excited over strangers.

"That's fair," said Sheppard. He sighed and tried to shrug it off, offered up a smile. "Look. We appreciate the assistance with the Coppi, Wes, and from our side of all this, I assure you, we look forward to building a partnership between Cairnyth and Atlantis. So we'll… work on it. Try not to ruffle so many feathers for you to have to deal with."

That was easy for him to say, considering John wasn't the one being accused of yelling, Let alone at a spouse, but Rodney just nodded his agreement to the idea. Wes, for his part, seemed to accept it finally. He didn't seem fully sold over, but he at least seemed to understand what people were reporting in about, that maybe it wasn't as catastrophic as it apparently seemed to them. And as he considered it, Rodney did feel bad for lying like they had to, negating the tradition, but they didn't exactly have a lot of options. Dragon or no dragon, they ultimately needed trade, and the Cairnythians made the trade dependent on something that Atlantis was not equipped to provide.

After they defused the situation with the Regent, they were escorted back to the guest hall, as Wes had assured Nova. Rodney was just glad he wasn't stuck in their jail cells because it had seemed like it was going to be a close call. For all they knew, it still could end up there, because no royal was going to jeopardize their hold over their people and traditions for strangers. Rodney was an arrogant bastard when it came to Atlantis' value and appeal to anyone, anywhere, but he wasn't proud enough to pretend an acting king wouldn't protect his own, first.

When the doors were closed and they were left alone in the guest hall again, Rodney set Ryli down to let her run. She trotted over to the windows and stuck her nose up to the glass to look out at the rain. The weird little dragon started making one of her demonic talking noises, because she had opinions about everything else, so of course she would have opinions about the rain. There wasn’t much they could do about it, though.

John dropped into one of the chairs, air rushed out of him in an exhausted sort of sigh. “That sucked.”

Rodney looked over at him, not inclined to argue with the observation. “How far are we from the whole tango-thing?”

John scoffed. “Well, the two-step isn’t going to work. Especially not for a whole week.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Rodney replied. John stared up at the ceiling, not at all helpful.

Chapter Text

For John, there was a sort of panic sinking in after the chat with the Regent. Not only for the confirmation that the Cairnythians were a highly technological society that was, oh by the way, spying on them. But also the panic that came from the fact that the bare-minimum wasn't going to cut it with the whole part where John and Rodney were supposed to be partners. Married partners. Like, the kissing kind.

The Best-friend-he'd-kill-and-die-for outlook didn't count, and neither did showing off the small stuff that Ronon and Teyla got away with, like extra courtesy and attention and the chivalry shit that Nancy liked. It was all too quiet, got drowned out, when everything else about who the both of them were was too loud. The guy who had been married already couldn't be the only one doing the work to look married, but he couldn't talk Rodney through what it was supposed to look like, either. Not with spies reporting straight to the Regent. It was going to have to be one of those mutual hands-on projects.

In short, the team was screwed if John didn't get his shit together.

And Rodney was right there, open to suggestions.

"Look, you aren't gonna like any of them," John finally said.

"Try me," came the reply, and John could practically hear the eyeroll. He sat up and forced himself to find his backbone. It was only a week. He would deal with the week after that when they got home.

"Well, Rodney, when in Rome…" John let the adage do the talking for him, rolling a hand to try to emphasize. Rodney nodded.

"Yes, and as I said, you're the only one of us who has ever been to Rome, so that doesn't help much, John."

If John had been sitting at his desk at home, safe and secure because their most recent messed up mission had never happened, he still would have taken to thunking his own head against the desktop. These were the moments of his life that were so unreal they sent shockwaves through entire alternate universes to screw with his head in different dimensions. It had to be in some cosmic contract somewhere, a mandatory clause that required his life to exist right there on the edge between Murphy's law and the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. Rodney wasn't going to help him out at all and would have to be walked through every step.

The man stood off to the side but within reach, so John sat up enough to catch him by the belt at his hip and tug, encouraging him closer. It wasn't out of the realm of their usual shoving matches so Rodney didn't argue about it. He looked a bit confused however when John grabbed the other side of his belt when he could reach and pulled him in to stand in front of him. John poked a knee between Rodney's and pulled again in a hint and Rodney's eyes went wide.

"Come here," John said, still urging him closer.

"What- where here?" Rodney asked. But then he was kneeling over him in the well-padded chair and reaching for balance on the back of it just over John's shoulders. John had his hands on Rodney's hips then and was hardly breathing as he tried to guide him to just sit. They were closer into each other's space bubbles than they usually allowed, but there were no tattletale body parts making things weirder than that, yet. Then John didn't move, looked up to meet his friend's eyes, tried not to freeze up and keep breathing like a normal person would. Lap-sitting was fine, perfectly friendly behavior.

"It's this stuff. The whole public displays of affection. Very Roman," he finally said, voice quiet and low and maybe tripping on one of those words. He felt stupid talking in code but he would have felt worse trying to explain in plain English and ending up locked in the castle's cells for it.

Rodney stared at him, only slowly actually settling any weight as he sorted it out. The hand at the back of the chair slid down to his shoulder and John absently turned his head enough to lean his cheek into the curled fingers, just enough to get it out of his system.

Rodney stared at him like the genius brain had maybe shorted out and John gave a half-hearted shrug. "I told you-"

"So this? We can do this?" Rodney asked, talking over him but thankfully quiet. John nodded against the hand at his shoulder that strangely still hadn't moved.

"Here, yeah," he said. He wasn't quite expecting it when both hands rested at his shoulders before Rodney moved, leaned forward and kissed him. On the lips. Like the jerk knew what he was doing when he stopped trying to figure out what married people did. Hands that had saved John's life dozens of times were suddenly touching his face and the tongue the man spent so much time arguing with was licking at his mouth to ask permission for something and John was gone on it in seconds. He moved his hands around from Rodney's hips up his back a little higher to pull him in closer.

He was vaguely aware of a scratching noise of claws on stone, skittering like mad at a full run. Then there was a disapproving sort of screech and a thump against the chair and Rodney ducked to the side, hands and shoulder shielding John's face as Ryli balanced herself on the armrest, panting from the exertion of the mighty jump for the small Coppi with no rugs for traction.

"Oh my god. Come on!" Rodney very noticeably didn't yell at her for the intrusion but it was implied in his tone. Ryli fluffed up her chest at him and perched over her front feet along the armrest, clicking away in her judgement-voice.

John started snickering until it turned into an actual laugh and Rodney's irritation faded to a smile, inches away from his own. He rested his forehead to John's, and John chanced kissing him back. It was a little less intense that time, but not by much, and Ryli didn't interrupt them. She did her own thing and let them do theirs.

For a few minutes, John had Rodney's undivided attention and things were really great. One hand was at his thigh and John kept kneading and grabbing, and that was definitely not the just-friends friendly territory anymore than the kissing. He was going to have a damned time explaining any of it when they were actually able to talk about it but that was Future-Shepp's problem and was absolutely not his in that moment. Rodney kissed him first so he was just going to lead with that, as long as he could get away with it.

It wasn't Ryli who startled them out of it for good. The doors to the guest hall opened and John nearly had a heart attack. Rodney wasn't much better and started to stand up but there were a couple of reasons why that was not the best idea. Besides the whole detail where the affection was supposed to be a public display. John shifted and grabbed and Rodney sat back down with a "Jesuschrist!" because John had missed his hip and grabbed his ass. It got him glared at but John started snickering again. At least he was quiet about it.

The whole time, Ryli sat on the wide fluffy arm of the chair, calm as anything. She blinked at him, her little head held high like she was a sphinx or something, disapproving of the riff raff who had so loudly entered the room, and John nearly lost it laughing again.

Across the room, Aide Provost Nova had stopped talking to Teyla and all footsteps stopped. John peeked over at them around the Coppi shield in the way and figured they had probably made a sufficient point. Rodney looked a bit tousled, somehow, and he had spent minutes with his hands in John's hair, so they were probably both a sight. He eased his hands back into his own lap and Rodney sat up a little straighter, though he didn't climb off.

"Uh. Hi, guys," John greeted.

"Need us to take a walk?" Ronon asked, grinning and smug. As usual. The answer should have been a firm No, without question, but John glanced back up at Rodney just in case they had to think about it. He was actually surprised to see Rodney do the same. And he really didn't help things any when he just smiled rather than answer their friend.

"Uhm. No. We're good here," Rodney said. Clearly, he was guessing.

"We see that, that's why the offer," replied Ronon. And John snickered again. Rodney looked down at him, like he was trying to figure him out. Good luck with that, Buddy.

Rodney gave an annoyed huff of a sigh, which John only noticed because the man was sitting on him, and seemed to give up. He shifted back a little for the sake of decency but then stayed exactly where he was and looked over at the others.

"We're fine. I could use dinner though. Soonish. Would be good. Is that in the plans?" he asked. He paused and seemed to catch up to the trip again. "Oh, and did you get an egg?"

Ronon nearly doubled over laughing and Teyla wasn't much better. John maybe loved his team a little more and tried to temper his own nervous amusement to a smile. He felt good, damn it. He was hanging on to that. He looked to Nova and the two Coppi trainers. Toure was holding it together a little better than Teyla and Harker was at least amused. Nova was their usual unreadable self.

"Mealtime is set for an hour from now," they said.

"If we could interrupt, though, Dr. McKay… We would like to try socializing Ryli before we have to worry about food nearby," said Harker.

Those were apparently the magic words because they worked. Rodney leaned forward enough for balance to pry his knees out of the chair padding on either side of John's thighs. John coaxed another kiss from him before Rodney stood up. The coats with their buttons and weird edges made more sense to John suddenly and he noticed that Rodney looked sharp, well put together, and only a little rumpled. John probably couldn't say the same, so he leaned forward and sat on the edge of his chair, trying to mess up his hair the right way to make it look somewhat normal.

Ryli was apparently a social enough animal that she took his efforts as preening, so she copied him and wiped her face a few times with her paws. John kept it up just to give her the excuse to, until he was surprised by Rodney reaching over and messing up his hair again. Then he had to fix it and swatted Rodney away from him so he could stand up again.

Once it was safe, Teyla and Ronon approached the nearby sofa. Teyla had stopped laughing but her eyebrows were still higher than usual and she had the smile on that she resorted to when she wasn’t supposed to be smiling. In contrast to John who had just gotten his feet back under him, she dropped down to the sofa, carrying a shoulder bag that looked quite packed with fluff. The lump in the middle of it was likely one of the stone eggs.

“While you see to Ryli’s learning, Ronon and I will stay here and look after her friend. Captain Harker has high hopes that this one is from a newer brood and will be a perfect Cairnyth Coppi. So we wait,” said Teyla.

"How does he know something that hasn't hatched will be viable?" Rodney asked, curious as much as baffled by the suggestion.

"He tested it. All these gizmos and took pictures and the temperature and everything," said Ronon. He might have been boasting about getting to witness technology at work while Rodney made kissy faces but John was trying hard not to think too much about their team's opinions just then. They didn't have the hang ups that the US Air Force did about the proper behavior of a Lieutenant Colonel but John was still working through it.

"Let me see what you got," John said instead, stepping closer to back up the request. Ronon jumped over the back of the couch and plopped down next to Teyla to start digging into the bag before she could. He pulled the stone-egg out and held it up, just like any other rock. This one was deep reds and oranges, with the same black and gray veins struck through as Ryli's had. It looked like fire in a stone, while Ryli's had been more like a chunk of deep ice. When John reached to take it, Ronon dodged.

"Uh-uh. This one is mine. We already sorted that out," he said. "If it starts to go, I get hands on it first."

"How about you share so we have two who can handle it, huh?" John suggested, in his usual way of not ordering Ronon and Teyla around. But he kept hands off. Rodney looked in over his shoulder but was quickly distracted away by some chattering from his own already hatched dragon. John looked up to see her taking a rather defensive pose on the back of the chair, not yet hissing, but giving Nova and Harker and Toure an earful of her opinions for being in the room.

"I guess we need to be going," he said. Rodney scooped Ryli off the backrest of the chair and headed for their Cairnythian escorts, so John followed after. With that, they were back out into the castle, following their hosts to yet another ancient room with high ceilings and colorful tapestries. There was more space and less furniture. And two very large animals with three more human minders already waiting.

The animals were probably four times bigger than Ryli, as large as a wolf or a jungle cat, except the wings pointed back along their bodies made them twice as long. They were not small by any stretch of the imagination and the wisdom of keeping Ryli in Atlantis was once again scratching at the back of John’s brain, which he ignored. They were keeping her. They would figure something out. Maybe she would stay small.

“Oh boy,” said Rodney quietly, staring at the Coppi on the other end of the room. They were very pretty, the same mixed up blend of colors as Ryli was. One was blues and greens with strange stripes, while the other was more pink in color, with a purple splash across the face. They had grown into their feet and their eyes, and they had a full mane of hair down their backs to their tails where Ryli’s was just a wispy line down her neck. Their ears still flopped down behind the raised crest over their eyebrows. They looked like grown up versions of Ryli, really, just more dragon-like, somehow.

They also looked like they would eat her in one bite, for a snack.

“Yeah, that,” John agreed. He caught Rodney’s arm just to keep the man from wandering off without him. Ryli was sniffing the air and kept turning her head, not apparently noticing the Coppi that had already pinpointed her.

Thankfully the trainers in the room didn’t abandon them to the introduction on their own. It took some convincing to try each new task presented to Ryli's human handlers. No matter how tame the Coppi were supposed to be, John had never seen anything like them before, had no idea what to expect of the massive animals' behavior, and socializing the baby version of the beasts involved sitting near them so Ryli would investigate and interact.

It was little consolation that the two adult Coppi were play companions for a five year old human child; John had been adopted by a three day old Coppi that bit Ronon because he wasn't one of her humans. It was all pretty damn cool, but John didn't want Rodney or him to get bit by real teeth, either.

But after a little while, Ryli got used to the bigger Coppi and they got used to her, so her humans backed off. John could observe without being involved. And Ryli was a natural terror to her own kind. She was hardly a quarter the size of the older ones, maybe one tenth their weight class, and she chased them in circles on the carpeted floor, jumping and butting heads and any other parts she could reach.

The pink one got tired of her at one point and picked Ryli up by the back of the neck and held her in its mouth, in the air, like those old cartoons where the scruffy bully cat picked the mouse up by the back of the shirt to let him punch the air in the general direction of the cat's nose. Ryli just went limp and hung there, aside from a few ineffective kicks with her back feet. She ran away when she was put down and started biting the tail of the other blue Coppi.

"Is that normal or suicidal?" Rodney asked, and they were assured it was a good thing. It meant she was small and hadn't grown into her attitude yet. They already knew her prey-drive was online and, damaged or not, she was hardwired for survival even if she didn't know how to do it herself yet. She would settle down in a few weeks, supposedly, but John imagined chaos in the halls in Atlantis in the meantime.

Ryli wore herself out chasing the bigger Coppi but she didn't seem to have an off-switch. The big blue Coppi picked her up and carried her over to Rodney after she tried to bite it one too many times. It was close enough to dinner then that, with Ryli and Rodney both getting cranky, they packed it in and followed Nova to the dining hall.

It was, once again, a community affair. Not for the whole city, but for the castle's main staff and guests. They had a large dining room and there was no sense wasting the room on some sort of tier-status that would be disrespectful to their citizens, according to Nova. Doctors and artisans and teachers and programmers crowded around the long tables again, though John and Rodney (and Ryli) were set up at the table with the Regent.

His niece, the tiny Queen, made the rounds to say goodnight to Wes, but she was too young for the crowd. Rodney still didn't like kids, so John was glad they didn't have to deal with her. They had enough of a challenge keeping up appearances with Wes and his spies, a kid blatantly calling bullshit would spell trouble.

"Where's Ronon and Teyla?" John asked as they settled in and no chairs were held up for their team.

"Waiting on their Coppi," replied Nova. "There's no guarantee the animal will show up as quickly as yours did, but it would be better that it not happen at mealtime. Their dinners were brought to them."

It was probably on the tip of Rodney's tongue to ask if that was an option, but even with the excuse of Ryli quite literally falling asleep on the table between them, it would have been rude. John leaned into his space to distract him, stealing a bit of food off Rodney's plate to tempt Ryli with. It got him glared at and John smiled back in the face of it. Rodney cracked and settled for retaliation, replacing the stolen bit of cooked bird with some from John's plate.

"Ryli has her own food now," Rodney reminded him.

"Yeah, but this is more fun," replied John, and he followed it up with a bussed kiss to the jaw. Rodney glanced over at him as John tucked in to eating his food, because everything was fine and there was nothing to be seen from his corner. Rodney shifted slightly in his chair and spent the rest of the meal leaned just at his shoulder, fit for polite company but enough to be noticed.

Stories were asked for, people wanting to know about Atlantis, and John let Rodney tackle those, barely doing more than prompting up the appropriate tale. Ronon wasn't there to counter any embellishments, and Teyla wasn't there to roll her eyes, so Rodney came out looking pretty smart and adventurous at the end. Not that anything he said wasn't perfectly true, but the things he intentionally left out would have been true, too, and likely would have changed people's opinions of the story. And John was perfectly competent with numbers, but he lost count of the number of bad guys they had been faced with at the time in any given story and made up a reasonable sounding number, which Rodney didn't contradict.

The moral of every story was that people who messed with Atlantis didn't end up happy, so the details weren't so important. The city took care of them and vice versa, which for all Cairnyth's hidden technology, they didn't have a city that recognized them by DNA and took default action to help them.

"How do they achieve this?" asked Wes, the man more than curious.

"No idea," replied Rodney, chipper. "The Database is too massive, we're still trying to untangle everything. We can insert code to help streamline our interactions with it, but we can't just reorganize it into something that makes sense. And there's the language barrier, which is a definite slow-down."

"Perhaps with the language issue, one of our linguists can help," Wes said. John started to nod but Rodney made the thoughtful face that happened right before a "no."

"From what I can tell, your written language is more akin to the Satedan language group, and that makes sense, you are further out from Atlantis, closer to Sateda. If Ronon is still learning Lantean after a year, it would likely result the same with your language geeks," said Rodney. "So really, I don't see how it would do anything other than frustrate yet one more linguist. The Database has its own logic, on top of its own language, which makes direct translation glitchy."

Thankfully “geek” didn’t translate for the people at the table the same as it would at home, so no one was offended. If anything, they were more intrigued, but Rodney didn’t have the power to the tablet to show them what he meant, and a programmer floated the idea of getting someone on the task of converting a power source. There was a lot that the smart people at the table wanted to know, and it all went directly to Rodney’s ego, but they didn’t have the resources or time required to upgrade the Cairnythian technology overnight.

The other plus side to the dinner arrangements around him was that the snoring Coppi on the table between John and Rodney’s plates served as a reminder that the Atlantis team would be leaving in the morning, so John didn’t have to immediately kill their dreams of sending a team back through the stargate with them. He had a few days on that, at least.

"I do think, however, some of our Scholars should accompany us to the training center," the Regent said, pulling John's attention from Rodney's satisfied boasting. "The exchange of ideas and education here is too fascinating to be cut short over the training of a pet, Omen or not. From what I am hearing, both our peoples could benefit from such an exchange."

"Oh, definitely," agreed Rodney. John nodded along, recognizing when his input was redundant in their efforts at social politics. Rodney leaned forward to look at someone else further down the table. "I am particularly curious about this electric power source you mentioned…"

Something, or more accurately, someone kicked at John's boot and he looked up to sort out if he had invaded someone's space. The table wasn't exactly crowded, but it was close quarters, and John and Rodney had been placed at the head of it into presumably some social hierarchy that he was probably expected not to offend. The Regent sat at the end of the table, to John's right, and his attention was on Rodney and the Scholar seated across the table and a few people down. Nova sat across from him, and someone John had been introduced to but didn't remember already sat across from Rodney.

Not sure how else to accommodate what was probably the Regent claiming foot space around the central table support in front of them, John sat back in his seat comfortably and crossed his ankles to stay out of the royal's way. It didn't exactly work as the other man's boot found the ornate foot of the table to rest on and the shined leather top of his shoe then tucked under John's calf. There was no way to extract himself gracefully, so John ignored it and kept his attention on Rodney and the conversation further away.

"You will have a few very busy days at this rate," said Wes. "It sounds like many people will want a piece of your time."

“Thankfully, I can multitask,” Rodney said, downright cheerful about it. John had finished his dinner by then and was mostly just polite decoration at the table, so he reached for the snoozing Ryli and cuddled her up against his chest rather than get caught out if he rolled his eyes.

When they got back from dinner, Ronon had taken to reading some of the story books off the shelves, and Teyla listened, though she looked bored as she babysat the bag with the egg in it. There wasn’t much else to do while waiting around for an egg to hatch. If they had really been married, they probably could have come up with some other way to pass the time, but they didn’t have anyone watching them in the guest hall, only snooping on their conversations.

“Wraith don’t like Coppi,” Ronon reported when John walked to within decent speaking-range. He held up the book in his hands as the source of this knowledge. “They don’t like fire. And they don’t like that noise they make.”

“The demon-talking noises?” Rodney asked, hopeful. Ronon held the book up again.

“It’s a book. I can’t read noise,” he replied. Rodney rolled his eyes and went to go find his own book in the slim hopes he could miraculously understand the language after talking about it to scholars for the past hour. John set Ryli down on the back of the couch, near Teyla but not in the danger zone.

Ryli still took high offense and jumped down rather than share her space bubble with a stranger. She started snooping under the place where the food had been left for each of the meals they had had so far in the guest hall, and soon after was wide awake and doing zoomies along the wall with the windows. She jumped onto a chair, missed, ended up on a table, and overturned some sort of game set that had been on it. The wooden pieces scattered everywhere and Ryli spun out on the board until she could get purchase enough to jump off and run for the hallway. Still no flying, for all the jumps and speed she had racked up, though.

John was picking up the pieces when the radio at his ear chirped. It was a little staticky but the signal came through.

“How is everything?” Elizabeth wanted to know, and John wasn’t exactly sure how to answer that.

“Well… due to a series of complications beyond our control, we will be bringing home two dragons, in theory, not just one,” he finally said.

“We don’t exactly have accommodations for one of them, let alone two,” said Elizabeth.

“They won’t get very big,” Rodney said, tagging in at least to defend Ryli. “Just, you know… bigger than a housecat.”

John stared at him, bug eyed at the blatant lie from the man who had been personally handed Ryli as a gift from a Coppi much larger than her two adopted humans, let alone a housecat. But he kept that to himself and tried to keep the call focused and short because of the unknown snooping devices hidden in the walls.

“Tomorrow we’ll be heading down to the Jumper for a little while. I’ll send you the report then, Doc,” said John. “We don’t have the battery to send back any, you know, pictures or anything. But we can at least get a better briefing written up.”

“This is sounding like a lot of work, Colonel. Long term maintenance above and beyond the norm-”

“Well, it might just be worth it,” replied John. “Rodney gets along just fine with their science geeks, and these are so far one of the most technologically advanced cultures we’ve come across. They just happen to also be very particular, so we’re doing our best to accommodate. It’ll be fine.”

John’s definition of the word “fine” and Elizabeth’s didn’t always line up exactly the same, but it wasn’t something John was comfortable parsing out over the radio. And thankfully the Director seemed to trust him enough to pick up on that. She didn’t push.

“Alright. Stay safe, and keep me informed. We’ll check back in another twelve hours,” Elizabeth said.

“Not if we dial in first,” replied John. But they signed off and John finished cleaning up after Ryli.

“So who’s writing the report to Elizabeth?” Rodney asked. The annoyed expression on his face suggested he already knew the answer and John smiled up at him.

“You’re kind of our expert, McKay,” he replied. Rodney sighed, his usual flare of dramatic, and put his book down to go find his tablet. John sat down on the floor in the middle of the seating area and started working with Ryli again, coaxing her with the bag of treats to get her cooperation in learning hand signals like Harker had shown them the big Coppi were attuned to.

“You, keep reading, please and thank you,” Teyla instructed Ronon, because apparently he was in the middle of a story she wanted to hear the ending of. So the team sat in the guest hall and listened to stories from the Cairnyth guest library, unsure if they were historically accurate or just kids’ fairytales. Their people had dragons and had tamed them, chased off the Wraith with them before even the stories were first recorded. Undoubtedly some of those details made it into Rodney’s report, but John’s only specific request was that he very clearly explain the trouble with the Omen so that any interaction Elizabeth had with them would line up with what the team said.

Eventually the report was written and Ronon was tired of reading and Teyla was tired of holding the egg-bag. Ryli was not tired of playing, though John was tired of sitting on the stone floor. It had been a long day and everyone was just tired. Ryli’s bug-jerky treats were left secured up high on a shelf she couldn’t jump to before John headed off to go to bed. Rodney showed up a few minutes later and Ryli trotted in after him. Once the doors were closed, John got ready for bed and climbed under covers just the same as the night before, but this time they had figured out there was a light in the bathroom, and it was just enough to make sure they didn’t get pounced on by a Coppi while blind in the dark.

Ryli scuttled around under the furniture in the room, sniffing and snorting and making her crackling noises at whatever she found, and her humans tried to settle in. The assumption was to sleep, but John wasn’t sure. The last time they had been left actually alone, Rodney hadn’t been so offended by sharing space, and maybe, if he had any luck left, that would still be the case under the blankets.

John realized, again, he had slowed down his breathing and kept having to remind himself that he needed air, just because he waited for Rodney to get settled. Finally his friend looked over at him, brow furrowed on some question or another that he hadn’t already figured out. John sure as hell didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t quite moving things the direction he had hoped for.

“Okay…” Rodney began, but that trailed off. It ended up at an uncertain, “John?”

John nodded a little, tucked his chin as he shrugged the blanket up and tried not to use the pillow as a shield. “Right here, buddy.”

“You said-” Whatever the question was, it stopped, because Ryli jumped up on the bed and over John’s legs. She marched up between them and settled down just at the edges of their pillows, punching the fluff down and up into their faces as she turned in circles. Then she sniffed at John’s hair and turned to Rodney to poke at his face with her nose. Then she curled around again, laid down between the pillows, and stretched her wings out like she owned the place. Just as the night before, John ended up with a wing over his face like an extra blanket.

“Okay, seriously-” Rodney complained at Ryli, his voice muffled by a wing, too. She chattered at him in return. John stifled a sigh and tried to get comfortable for the night.

“G’night, Rodney,” he said. The grumbled reply sounded very frustrated with a dragon, at least, and John understood that part clearly. But he didn’t know how to have a conversation with Ryli about it when he couldn’t even get the words out for Rodney.

Chapter Text

Waking up without a dragon wing over his head was somehow more startling than if it had been where he expected it to be. Ryli had been at his shoulder like a tyrannical chaperone when Rodney fell asleep, but when he woke up, she wasn't there. He listened and didn't hear her running around under the bed, but she wasn't anywhere on the bed near him.

Rodney blinked in the dim light and stared at the wall, startled by the notion that she wasn't on his side of the bed. She could have snuggled up with John, because the little traitor had been invested enough in keeping him from trying to. Rodney was going to be bitter about that for a few more hours, probably, but he still needed to know where Ryli had disappeared to. He very carefully pushed himself up and looked down over the edge of the bed.

The next place he looked was back at the front doors to be sure they were still closed, which they were. But there was also an obnoxious cat-lizard-beastie poised like a statue in front of them, her nose to the inch of space under the door, her wings half raised in alert, and her body tense like she was going to pounce. She was hunting something. The door was solidly in her way, though, so she couldn't track her prey far.

Rodney sighed and lay back down, checking his watch as an afterthought to be sure he didn't need to be awake yet. It was still early. John was still asleep. That was a sufficient excuse to stay down. Except when he settled in, his attention caught on John's face. He was really, genuinely relaxed in sleep for once; not that Rodney made a habit of staring at his friends' sleeping faces when they were all out overnight, but John was usually one of the first ones awake at any noise, even when he knew somebody else was on watch. Who knew what he did at home, but in the field, it could hardly be called sleeping. Now… he was asleep, and Rodney had the annoying urge to kiss him again.

That, though, wasn't going to happen. Kissing was a public display mandated by their situation, until Rodney was told otherwise, and the bedroom wasn't technically public (though Rodney had his suspicions it was wired for sound.) So Rodney stayed on his side of the bed and just cataloged the differences between the guy who slept beside him and the Colonel he had gone camping with on dozens of alien worlds. He looked a lot like the guy Rodney gamed with and built RC cars with, just more... asleep.

Across the room, Ryli upped her hunting game to attack-mode and started clawing at the door. She was still too small to rattle the hinges, but she was trying. It startled Rodney and woke up John, both of them sitting up to stare at the noise. It wasn't bright enough in the room to see what she was after, just barely enough to see the slight reflection from her scales.

"What the hell-" John sounded awake enough.

"No idea," replied Rodney. He moved to get out of bed to go chase her down when she started up with her crackling, hissing noises. It was far too early for demons loose in the room, thank you. John was closer and therefore faster, but rather than pick her up and make her stop that way, he opened the door to let her chase whatever she was after. Light reflected down the hall, and John followed the dragon, so Rodney let them go. If John wanted to run around in just his shorts, that was his prerogative, but Rodney was finding his shirt first.

When he got out to the main room of the guest hall, he found the rest of his team, awake, and playing with dragons. Or more specifically, feeding them bug-jerky. Ronon matched John for his state of undress, so Rodney didn't feel too weird, but Teyla was her usual state of perfect, even in the borrowed Cairnyth-style clothes.

And Ryli was carefully sniffing out a very tiny, lizard-sized Coppi sitting on Teyla's knee. John held her up so the investigation could be done without risk of fighting or biting. And the bag of treats sitting between Teyla and Ronon kept stealing Ryli's attention, anyway.

"Well, that only took… twelve hours," said Rodney, glancing at his watch again. “What is it?”

“It’s a Coppi, Rodney,” said Teyla, her brow furrowed as she laughed at the question. “Are you awake?”

“I mean, is it a boy or a girl? I want to know if I have to plan on more eggs. Can Coppi get fixed? Do you think these people have considered that?”

Teyla held the little orange Coppi up and it tried to sneak down her arm, so she caught it in her other hand to hold it still. The thing was still so small she could hold it trapped in her hand, and Teyla was smaller than any of the other members of her team. She pointed to the ridges over the animal’s eyes that fanned back to cover the ears. Where Ryli’s were two separate ridges, this one had a flat, unbroken crest, rather more like a triceratops.

“From what Captain Harker said, this should mean this is a male,” Teyla said helpfully. “But this one is smaller than Ryli was, and his face is still flat, as I recall it took a few hours for hers to define. So we will not know for sure until we ask the trainers in the morning. For now, his name is Wit.”

Rodney dropped into one of the nearby chairs with perhaps a little more “oof!” than strictly necessary. “I’m still getting used to one of them. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

John let out a snort of laughter and set Ryli down on the floor. She started toward Rodney but then went laser-focused on John again as the man dug into the treat bag. “I think we have some time to figure it out, Rodney.”

Rodney just scrunched his nose at the man’s hopeful outlook on the situation. It was too early in the day for that. And he was accidentally staring at the Colonel’s backside which only reminded him that he was not happy with Ryli yet. “My point is that we have enough with two, the possibility for more is a possible problem that shouldn’t be overlooked.”

“Well, we’re stuck with them now, so you should have considered the possibility of grandchildren when you hatched the egg in the first place,” replied John. Which was not at all helpful and entirely ridiculous. But that was apparently how the morning was going to go, and starting an hour earlier than he wanted it to.

Suspiciously, breakfast showed up earlier than it had the day before, and the trainers showed up with it. Like somehow they knew there was a new Coppi to investigate. By then everyone was dressed and decent, awake, and even packed. The excuse for the early call was that they would need to leave earlier, with a longer trek in front of them down to the other training center, but Rodney suspected it had more to do with snooping computers than coincidence. He also wasn’t worried about the time because he had been promised at some point that morning he would get back to the Jumper so that they could charge their gear while they moved the ship.

And because he knew he would get the Jumper, Rodney politely refused the ride on the hoith again. They already knew the road and, while they would end up a little more tired and moving slower than the rest of the party, they would catch up quickly once they got as far as the ship. He didn’t complain about the fact that it let Ryli run around and chase after bugs and other weird creatures, either. Watching her explore was entertaining, and it was proof she was fine, a healthy little Coppi that didn’t need to be shipped off to a butcher. They had made the right call.

Rodney’s improved mood on the walk may or may not have had something to do with the fact that, at some point, mindful of the Cairnythian escort around them, John Sheppard had bumped his shoulder and caught his hand. They still couldn't actually clarify what was for show and what was just… them. Their friendship had started out with some built-in, always-there challenge, but it wasn't exactly something they had the luxury to figure out. If Sheppard were anything but a US military flyboy, it would have been flirting.

Now it was like Rodney had to tap into whatever that was to figure out what to do with the man in his space so much. He leaned in to point things out when Ryli was getting into the trees somewhere up ahead of them, he talked quieter and leaned in to make sure he was heard, and if there was an excuse to take Rodney's hand then he would grab it.

About halfway down the mountain trails, Ryli got tired and pounced on Rodney to climb up and take her place on his backpack. She had practiced enough that she had finally learned not to draw blood. Rodney got to keep the extra few pounds of weight for maybe ten minutes before John actively stole her, coaxing her over to his pack with a bribe from the treat bag. Rodney wasn't as annoyed at the theft as he wanted to be; he could get her back just as easily, but John had taken his hand again, they were still close, and there was little reason to get picky about it.

Fifteen people, two Coppi, and a wagon full of protected stone-eggs left the mountainside castle that early morning. Among their escort of Cairnyth's dragon trainers and technology scholars was, of course, the Regent and his Aide Provost. John explained the Jumper situation to them, that it was necessary to get a clear signal back to check in with Atlantis. The "techie" things were passed off to Rodney, but John talked the ship up enough to get the group to detour off the road the Regent knew. They wanted to at least see what the thing was, even though they expressed doubt that it could really fly. For all their hidden computers spying on their guests, the Cairnythians had never bothered with flight, because the Coppi owned the sky.

"I'm sure they're happier with that arrangement," agreed John. "But you have no idea what you're missing out on."

A few minutes later he was showing them. There was a line of hoith tied to trees as the group explored the outside of the Jumper. Rodney went straight inside, the light turning on as he entered, and he went to start charging every device he could.

John had Ryli on his pack until he got inside. Then she saw the netting around the storage areas and jumped, swinging herself upside down around a new jungle gym, flapping her wings like maybe they could actually do something… but they just moved air and the Coppi climbed around on the straps and crawled in to disappear among the tied-down gear. She hissed at Ronon as he ducked inside, but otherwise Ryli was completely hidden in the storage racks.

"This is too big and heavy to get off the ground," Wes challenged as he walked inside the Jumper.

"You would think," agreed John. "But she goes high and she goes fast."

They had enough room for the whole group, but only about half of them trusted the look of the ship, and they had the hoith to look after. Nova didn't look comfortable letting Wes try the supposedly flying machine without proof of concept first, but the Regent got his way, and Nova buckled into one of the bench seats like Teyla showed them. They at least weren't letting him out of their sight if he was so determined to take risks.

Ryli showed her little pointed nose again when the engines turned on; quiet as they were, she still had to be louder, with her gravely chattering. She sounded panicked though, and Teyla's little Coppi - still so small it looked all lizard - had hidden away in the over-padded shoulder bag that had once carried the egg around. That was a lot smarter than training a dragon like a shoulder-parrot, Rodney realized, more than a little jealous.

Rodney went to the back to retrieve her before John raised the ramp and there would be extra noise to scare her. Ryli quieted as she jumped down to him and instantly shoved her head under his shirt collar. Rodney returned to his seat in the copilot's chair cuddling a trembling Coppi to his chest and feeling like an absolute heel; so much for not scaring the baby animals. He so far accomplished it on a daily basis. John leaned over and scratched at her neck but she stayed buried in Rodney's shirt and just hissed at the effort.

Their guests stayed buckled in the back until they realized that the whole ship was up in the air and moving, then there was a crowd in the forward section. Wes had to be told not to touch the center console, instructed so by Ryli as it happened, but it otherwise worked out.

"How do you know where you're going?" Wes asked, and John pointed at the places on the screen that gave an approximate distance and orientation on the stargate.

"First we're going there to check in, then we'll come back down here and… figure it out," said John. He didn't know what he was doing and the best he could offer was a shoulder shrug. Rodney rolled his eyes and John ignored him by starting up the dialing sequence on the stargate still a mile up the mountain. The big blue disk was already visible as they got closer. Rodney got to work on the data send on his charging tablet as John started up the check-in call.

The check-in took a little longer than expected because Wes stood right between them, a royal of the culture they had arranged to ally with, and Elizabeth was just as curious as to the four strangers crowded behind her team as they were to see what they could of Atlantis. The Regent was as terrible about applying gratuitous charm as Sheppard could get and Rodney felt himself getting a little territorial; they did not introduce Wes to Elizabeth so that the man could flirt, damn it.

"Excuse me, Elizabeth, but the report should be at your desk now," Rodney cut in, pouncing on a few seconds of quiet. He was trying to be polite, but he wanted all of the strangers out of his ship sooner rather than later.

"We did technically just disappear off the locals' radar with their Regent," John added. "We should probably get him back before they sic the big dragons on us."

"Big dragons?" Elizabeth asked. One eyebrow arched up as she crossed her arms. Rodney looked over at John as the man single-handedly obliterated Rodney's efforts at assuring Elizabeth that the Coppi would stay small. He had the gall to just shrug.

"Well, I mean, they said some of them get pretty big, but Ryles won't. She's… sorta like the runt of the litter. Got a busted wing and everything," he drawled, and Rodney practically heard John batting his lashes and making the dopey, doe-eyed faces just the same as Wes had done. He was blatant about the con but Elizabeth went with it like she always did, completely untrusting of his wisdom but not willing to argue with the face. It wasn't fair that Rodney knew the feeling.

They signed off and headed back down to where they had left the rest of their party. It was easy to spot the line of hoith, daisy-chained together between their four remaining riders, running across the trail. The road was well marked out in the lower hills and it wasn't so steep. Either way, Rodney was glad he wasn't riding. Harker stepped to the front, pointed out the window.

"Head that direction. The lowlands compound is on the coast, roughly in line under the sun from here," the Captain reported.

"That sounds doable," replied John. The view accelerated from a crawl to a blur until the horizon line showed a flat expanse of blue-black rather than bright fields and trees. A well-fortified city sprawled off to one corner, another tall-walled stone collection of buildings that looked like over a mile of stretched out castle, and John adjusted course to cruise around it. "That it?"

"How can your ship see so far out?" Wes asked. John hesitated on the answer.

"No, Wes. We're here… I can park it and you can walk out and touch that wall," John said. "Before I do, though, you might want to contact them. Let them know they aren't being invaded or anything. We're just… showing up a few hours early."

"What-"

"That is not physically possible-"

"Regent, this can't be true-"

The Cairnyth contingent exploded in noise, which set Ryli to making her angry-demon-rattle, and her new buddy Wit, tucked away in his carry-nest, started up one at a higher pitch. Not sure how to get Ryli to calm, Rodney started unbuttoning his fancy coat until he could tuck her inside against his shirt and hide most of her entirely. Her wings were half-arched in alarm, making the project difficult, but it was close enough once he hugged both arms around her little body.

As he did that, John found some place to land, and Rodney realized quickly that it was inside the compound walls. They had to be cloaked because no one outside the window so much as looked at them. John stood up then, trying to get attention over the noise.

"Go on, see for yourself. We're really here," he said, pointing the group out toward the lowering ramp of the back gate. "I've got the ship hidden so nobody shoots at us, but you can just walk out."

Three of them did. Nova and Harker waited because Wes didn't leave. He stood next to John, staring at him. "I want to fly it."

"Well, that's the glitchy part. So far there haven't been many Pegasus locals who can run these things. It reads your DNA and that… unlocks a lot of the features. Like flying," said John. "Odds are good that Rodney and I are the only ones In this city who can fly this thing."

"Can you build them? More of them?" Wes asked.

"No. Another secret of the Database we haven't had the time to figure out," Rodney said quickly. If he didn't have an angry Coppi curled into his shoulder, he would have stood up. Rodney was far from an expert on human emotions and particularly those as expressed by facial features and body movements, but he didn't like the look on the Regent's face then. The man was hungry and he was after something and he was watching John. That wasn't okay. Particularly under their current circumstances, when Rodney was supposed to be the man's lifepartner and the Cairnyth society placed such a high value on those.

"John, help," Rodney said, turning in the chair enough and motioning toward the bundled up Coppi in his arms. "She's stuck…"

John sidestepped the Regent, who very noticeably did not ease back far, stayed just enough in John's path to brush against him. It was a challenge, he was a royal, after all, and they had just told him he couldn't have something he wanted; that was sure to never go well. Technologically advanced society or not, they probably should have seen that danger coming, too. Wes wasn't exactly a pretty stone-egg to crack, nothing too hard to figure out. They had just been too distracted to look.

John helpfully pried Ryli out of Rodney's shirt front and curled her up in the crook of his arm, pinning her in the gentle hug she seemed to like from him. She stopped the keening noise and panted, mouth open. At least she was quiet.

"Too many people around, huh?" John asked, quiet, as though the dragon would talk back. She chirped faintly but that was just her trying to calm down again. It would figure that Rodney would end up with a dragon with anxiety.

But it worked. Not only did Ryli quiet down, but the Regent left the Jumper. John looked down at Rodney, a brief confusion on his face. He nodded toward Ryli.

"You okay?" he asked, because, no, Rodney hadn't needed help with the Coppi. There were no claws involved in her removal from under the coat, though thankfully that hadn't been visible to anyone else.

"Yeah, just…" Rodney waved vaguely toward the vacated Cairnyth contingent. "We might have screwed up?"

"Maybe," John agreed. He backed up to let Rodney out of the chair and he looked to Ronon and Teyla. Everybody was fine and the only one who had been hassled was John, though he acted like he hadn't even noticed because he was cuddling a Coppi. The team walked back to the ramp to see the Regent already at work explaining their early arrival to the ranking guards who had come out to meet him. They all looked very confused.

"Colonel Sheppard?" Wes called out, like they weren't standing ten feet away. Everyone was still tucked in the Jumper out of sight and John got a wicked grin on his face. A moment later the lighting outside changed ever so slightly, brighter and unfiltered by the ship's cloaking. The group of guards and dignitaries alike started making noises that were probably oaths in their language.

"Show off," muttered Rodney. John bumped his shoulder and headed down the ramp.

“How did you do that? It’s been here the whole time, we were on it,” Wes was asking, even as the city’s guards were taking up defensive postures. The Regent and the two training captains waved them off, but that didn’t make Rodney feel any better.

“I told you, it’s a thing we can do. I tell the ship to do it and it happens,” said John. “Look at it this way… You have Coppi, we have ships.”

“And we can share our knowledge of the Coppi,” replied Wes. John nodded, smiling as he lifted the baby Coppi he held to acknowledge the observation.

“And over time, we can share what we know of this technology. That’s what friends do, right?” he asked. “It doesn’t have to be something right now. We’re banking on each other sticking around.”

“Exactly that,” Wes replied. “And I will admit, such an alliance is looking much more hopeful now than it did when you arrived.”

“See? That’s how these things are supposed to work, gotta stay positive and give things a little time,” said John. He was still being his laid-back, friendly self, renewed by his brief flight in the Puddlejumper. Sometimes Rodney suspected the ships hit him like a drug, he could get so cheerful after time in the Jumpers. But it worked in their favor and the team was allowed to leave, the city’s guards backing off to make more room.

The Regent was somehow more gregarious after that, offering up another tour of yet another big fortress that was built to be dragon-proof. He kept close in John's personal space bubble, which occasionally meant he put himself in Rodney's, too. The Regent liked touching and didn't mind bumping shoulders, and he kept putting a hand on John's back or arm which Rodney noticed, and it didn't make him feel very happy with the overall way the day had gone. John would have corrected the royal if he was annoyed by it, but he didn't seem to notice.

The Regent's staff disappeared to see to their own business, leaving Wes to them, aside from a few guards and Harker and Toure. The new city was bigger, more buildings, more hallways, more people, and because it wasn’t built into the side of a mountain, the walls were higher and more intimidating. Rodney stuck close to his team just because he felt claustrophobic, looking up at stone walls with very few trees in the courtyards.

Their gear was still in the Jumper, locked up and safe, so at least Rodney wasn’t stuck carrying things. Even Ryli was mostly perched on John’s shoulder, as she couldn’t be let run around the compound when there were other Coppi who could be lurking. She jumped back and forth but John would grab her to hold her still if she started to get too worked up.

They were a few hours ahead of schedule without the travel time, and Harker wanted to get them right to work with the Coppi training. So the team ended up at the end of a connecting portico that looked down on an empty part of the compound that had nothing in it, at all, aside from the tall, multi-story walls, and sandy dirt.

And Coppi the size of elephants.

"Oh my god." Rodney stared at the wandering animals, then at the walls, and realized the walls weren't big enough at all. The fully grown Coppi were still the bright colors with the mottled variance across the scaley hide, their bodies still the trim shape of the Coppi Rodney had met at the castle and the one sitting on John's shoulder.

Rodney looked over at Ryli to remind himself of the tiny origins and she looked like she was shivering as she looked at the beasts. John's mouth hung open like an unintelligent codfish, reminding Rodney to shut his own mouth. This whole project was technically his fault; at least one of them had to look like they could handle it. Rodney squared his shoulders. They could handle it. Ryli wasn't going to get bigger than those kept at the castle. Which was big, of course, but not… unmanageable.

"I thought you said these guys stayed small?" John said, turning to Harker.

"They do. When they're kept in small places. Ours are not. These are fighters, Colonel. Not pets," the Captain replied.

"And you said ours will not face the growth challenges that Ryli has?" Teyla asked. Ronon carried Wit, but the thing was still small and looked even tinier curled on his shoulder. It was almost impossible to imagine it growing as large as the animals in the courtyard just below them.

"He won't," said Toure. "But if he's grown in a city, without a lot of flight or free range to need to explore, he will stay smaller than these."

"These guys won't fit through the 'gate," offered Ronon.

"No, they will," replied Rodney, but he was pretty sure he was missing the point. "This will be fine. They'll stay small."

John nodded, distracted. "Right."

They were led down to the level where the large Coppi wandered, and somehow they seemed even bigger standing on the same ground instead of a floor above them.

"This is how you knew where to go when we got in the air," John said, looking over to Harker. "You guys can ride these things."

It clicked for Rodney then, too. "You don't need to fly because they do it for you."

The Captain nodded. “For a time, much of our trade with Sateda was for their leather work, for the harnesses. The easiest way to control an animal that size is from the neck.”

Toure walked out to the nearest of the big dragons and approached with the same familiarity and caution as Rodney had seen people use around the comparatively tiny hoith. And, because John was an idiot, suddenly Rodney found himself holding Ryli as the pilot went out to meet the huge beast with the trainer.

“Sheppard…” Ronon called after him.

“What? I grew up with horses. This is fine,” the Colonel called back.

“They’re not horses!” Rodney reminded him. “They’re not cats and they’re not horses!”

John didn’t have anything to say to that, and a moment later he was being carefully introduced to a bright green-blue Coppi that had teeth roughly the size of the man’s hand.

“Oh my god,” Rodney repeated, quieter. “We’re gonna die.”

Beside him, Teyla nodded. “For this, I am fairly certain Elizabeth will see to that.”

That was certainly not the most helpful thing Teyla had ever said to calm Rodney’s nerves. Ryli made a little chirping noise and, thirty yards away, the not-a-horse, elephant-sized Coppi shoved John with its nose hard enough to knock the man down. Rodney tucked Ryli back into his coat in an effort to keep her quiet until he was sure she wouldn’t get herself or John eaten by pissing off some of her larger cousins with her tiny opinions.

Chapter Text

The sales pitch on the Coppi addition to the team was, it turned out, a load of Coppi crap - something John had been very careful not to familiarize himself with for the past three days but figured he was soon going to have to change policies on,- because the animals did not stay small.

Maybe Ryli would, because of her messed up wing, but the new little guy, Wit, would not. He was perfectly healthy, and Atlantis wasn't small, and in theory the animals would go off-world as often as to the mainland. Wit, at least, would not end up small. And just like everything else in Pegasus, John was going to be punching above his weight class. The first knock-down from the adult Coppi was a good preview of what was coming.

John had been in the way of something the Coppi wanted to see, so she moved him. It just so happened that her head was roughly the length of his torso and reinforced with extra bones for armor, so it probably left a bruise. They got along alright after that, until Toure walked John through their voice commands for the Coppi and the overly large dragon had opinions about answering to the new guy. She knocked John down again and nudged at Toure with her nose, like Ryli did when she was seeking treats. Toure didn't have anything for her and instead sent her off on her own again.

Toure helped him up after the second knock-down and they changed tactics. John didn't need to interact with the big guys in the yard to learn things. They had more young ones that were smaller and recently aged out of their tricky imprint situation. That wasn't as exciting as the notion of working with the adults, but it was probably more productive.

"Can I try flying while I'm here?" John asked as the group walked to another Coppi enclosure.

"No," said Rodney, like John had lost his mind. Toure and Harker were amused by it, but at least not laughing in his face.

"Not in a week, no. It takes years of training," said Toure. John shrugged, disappointed but not surprised. He had refused to let a royal play with the Puddlejumper so it was only fair.

"I at least had to ask," he pointed out.

"It knocked you flat, twice, just on the ground. You can't fly the dragons," said Rodney. He tugged at John's arm to get his attention and then pulled Ryli out of his jacket like it was some kind of back-alley covert op. "Which reminds me. Here. You scared her."

"I what?" John at least managed not to drop her at the unexpected pass-off. "How?"

"You left her with me to go play with the big version and she didn't like it. That's why you got taken out in the first place. You didn't hear her?"

Ryli didn't seem overly scared just then, she seemed rather tired and set herself in the crook of John's arm to tuck her head back over his shoulder. He hadn't heard her, but Toure had told him the Coppi got distracted by something. As noisy as Ryli was, it made sense that the animal had heard her. He scritched her head between her eyes and she closed them, rolled into him more.

"Sorry then. Next time, I'll make sure to include you in the visit," he told her. He felt Rodney staring at him and looked up. "What?"

"You've shot me before and I had to demand an apology," Rodney said. It wasn't that long ago and the wounds were apparently still fresh even though John had seen for himself they had healed.

"I said I was sorry then, too," John pointed out.

"Also shot me," chimed in Ronon. John rolled his eyes.

"I apologized to all the humans, too," John replied. "And I think I should get some credit for having not been the one who shot Teyla, so can we just… stick to the situation at hand? In the present?"

"Fine. But it seemed relevant," said Rodney.

"Was," added Ronon. It was apparently a good day to pick on Sheppard so John let his team have their fun. It was good bonding, right? He was a pro at ignoring them anyway. He leaned in to speak more quietly to Ryli.

"Never apologize for anything, Ryli. They're going to hold it over your neck forever anyway," John said, again to the dragon in his arms and overheard by his team. Rodney huffed at him, so John lightly swatted his arm with the back of his hand and then held the offending hand over in an invitation to be held. Rodney folded their fingers together without having to be asked twice but he probably still wasn't forgiving him for apologizing to the dragon.

They ended up underground somewhere, further driving in Rodney's claustrophobia, and surrounded by small Coppi only a little bigger than Ryli. She started squirming and making her chirping noises until John got the go-ahead from the trainers and set her down. Suddenly there was a swarm of Coppi investigating the new one and Ryli ran right back to Rodney and climbed up his leg to escape the attention.

"What the hell-" John asked, crowded close to Rodney but his attention on the twenty Coppi around them. They backed off when Ryli was out of reach, and a few of them hissed at the strange humans, but the crowd got a little less dense.

"This brood is about a cycle old," said Harker. "They're very social and she's new."

"But she's nearly as big as they are," said Ronon. He still held the comparatively tiny Wit very close, in his hands now rather than risk Wit jumping out to see the other Coppi. They would all squish the little guy.

"That's the difference in the hatching time," said Toure. "These were bred here, hand-reared from the start. Ryli had been abandoned so long she went dormant. Their systems recover from the dormancy remarkably quickly, but she's still only a few days old. She doesn't know the rules these Coppi have already learned from each other."

With that new bit of information, John knelt down and let the Coppi adjust to him before tugging on Rodney's slacks and motioning him to join him. They tried again, this time with Rodney holding Ryli and only the bravest of the older Coppi venturing out to investigate.

It worked out better that time, and when Ryli climbed out of Rodney's arms, she didn't freak out at the swarm. Instead, she reverted to the tail-sniping and chasing that she had with the older Coppi the day before. The many Coppi turned into a crazy rainbow of little and slightly-bigger reflective scaley bodies tumbling around in a big knot with random flapping wings sticking out. A few of the Coppi jumped up and hovered a few wing-beats before pouncing. There were at least fifteen of them involved and John lost sight of Ryli in the mess.

"She's okay in that, right?" Rodney asked, voicing John's own concerns.

"She figured out how to fight with the adults," Toure said. "She should be fine."

"There were only two of them," John pointed out. The trainer shrugged, still not overly concerned.

"Just watch," came the reply. So they watched. It was impossible to keep track of the different colors around the Coppi rough-housing, and even their noises were too similar to pull Ryli's clacking and hissing clearly from the crowd.

After a few minutes, with no apparent bloodshed, Harker walked over to a large cabinet near the wall. A few of the Coppi who weren't involved in the group play-fight started following the trainer instead of their siblings. Harker let out a harsh whistle, it seemed at a higher pitch than necessary, and the Coppi almost all turned their heads.

The fight was quickly abandoned by all but Ryli. She tumbled into a red Coppi just a little bigger than her and bounced off, shaking her head. By the time she recovered, nearly the whole group were sitting at attention in response to the whistles from Harker.

Ryli started chirping back at him, so John tried to get her attention by snapping his fingers. She trotted over and sat down, expecting beetle-jerky for the trick she had learned. And John had to admit, for only a few hours of work at it, she had learned quickly. That meant John had to search his few pockets in the unfamiliar coat for remnants of bugs, though, to keep up his end of the trick. She got crumbs, but he found something.

Because he was the more intelligent of her two humans, Rodney went over to Harker and was given entire handfuls of the Coppi treats, and Ryli followed after him. And then AR-1 spent the next half an hour mimicking Harker and Toure as they worked with the larger group on hand signals and whistles, and as Ryli and Wit mimicked the other Coppi.

Nova showed up after the Coppi treats were put away and the younglings were too stuffed full of jerky to learn anything else for awhile. They had to burn it off. And Nova wanted to borrow their humans. By then even tiny Wit was determinedly trying to figure out how to play with his broodmates and Harker politely tried to stall the Aide Provost.

"It would be better if the Coppi were socialized more," he began. Nova seemed to sense where he was going with it and tried to head him off.

"The Regent's request was for Dr. McKay. Colonel Sheppard can remain with the others. Though meals will be ready in two hours," they said. Not really a fan of the idea, John looked to Rodney, hesitating on letting him head off on his own after the close call at the Jumper earlier that morning. He didn’t have a handy excuse to keep him from going anywhere, though. Rodney frowned back at him and didn't look happy with the idea, either.

“Why was I requested?” he asked, looking to Nova.

“Our scientists have questions and would like to start designing a power source compatible with your equipment,” they replied. They seemed more relaxed than they had since AR-1 had shown up on their doorstep, but that could be explained by simple familiarity, or by the fact that they now had a better understanding that the team from Atlantis wasn’t there to con them. But their smile didn’t make John feel exactly at ease after three days of being watched over by a cranky guard-hawk.

“I will accompany Rodney then,” said Teyla. She stood up from where she had been playing with Wit and one of the other Coppi and handed their tiny Coppi to Ronon to continue to watch over. “I help out with the administrative tasks on Atlantis, coordinating with our scientists frequently. Perhaps the two of us can handle the work with your team more smoothly.”

Nova had no complaints and Rodney seemed to relax. Not that Rodney needed a babysitter, but it definitely made John feel better about the situation. Still, he caught Rodney’s hand and tugged to get his attention back.

“Play nice with the other kids, huh?” he said, quiet. Rodney furrowed his eyebrows at him for it. It was quieter than the annoyance John was expecting for the comment, and gave him the urge to kiss it away, so he smiled and followed the impulse. The disapproving nose-scrunch disappeared.

When he pulled back from the quick kiss, Rodney leaned back into him to follow it up on his own, just to make it even. He and Teyla followed after Nova a moment later and everything seemed normal again. Ryli was kept busy by three-on-one odds in some kind of game of tag halfway across the room, so she didn't notice Rodney slip away, and Wit was tucked in Ronon's hands and absolutely clueless. Not a peep was made from anyone as each half of the imprinted teams left the room.

Of course, it left John standing not far from Ronon, with the man grinning and smug at him, when the rest of their team were gone. It was the first time he hadn't been stuck to Rodney's side in days. John squared his shoulders and intentionally looked away out at the room full of Coppi and their various climbing cliffs and nets that looked like a cross between a children's playground and a zoo enclosure.

"What?" he said, suspicious of Ronon's sudden good mood.

"You're welcome," said Ronon. John looked over at him, a defensive glare at the ready, but he couldn't exactly say anything to the gloating. It wasn't like Ronon really knew what he was doing when he snatched up Teyla's hand that first night. He had definitely done it on purpose, but that didn't mean he actually knew anything. It wasn't like John was that transparent to his team. After all, the Cairnyth spies had been convinced Rodney hated him, so nobody else knew any different, anyway. Their team just knew them better.

"Fine. Just so we're clear, you deserve it next time I kick your ass in the gym," John finally replied. It was the best he had handy that could survive the spying ears of the handful of military dragon trainers nearby. Ronon's smile just doubled.

"Bring it on, old man," he said. But John let that one slide because he was beginning to feel the bruise across his chest from when the adult Coppi knocked him on his ass more than he probably would have when he was Ronon's age.

It took a half an hour for Ryli to stagger back to John and curl up on his boots. She was hardly awake and hissed at him when he picked her up. Then she stuck her head in his shirt collar and latched her claws in his coat and was not going to be removed.

"Uh. She's not going anywhere," John said, looking to the two trainers they knew. Toure was at that moment helping another trainer round up specific Coppi for checkups, while Harker ran interference with another group. The stragglers like Ryli ignored both of them the same way Ryli ignored Ronon, so John guessed that batch were younger, which was why Ryli had chased around the climbing equipment with them. And Ryli started snoring against his neck. "Yeah, she's done."

Harker looked over and saw the Coppi clinging to John's coat and was a moment later pounced on by two Coppi over-excited at an opportunity to steal the treat bag. It dropped a handful of treats and the Coppi who weren't otherwise occupied with the other trainers headed for the scraps. Ronon and John stayed away from the ensuing swarm. The Captain managed to whistle the group into order without Ryli noticing at all.

One of the trainers was sent to take the Atlantis team to Nova, but when Nova was contacted over the local version of a radio system, they sent John and Ronon to be shown their new quarters instead. They were getting the whole guest wing to themselves again, but the other half of their team was still busy, so they could enjoy it by themselves.

The accommodations were smaller, less gaudy, the ceiling not so high, and more windows this time, so John liked it better. No books this time, though. There were long boxes of dirt on the floor along the walls, with some kind of moss growing in it. Ronon put Wit in it and the small Coppi set about exploring and digging holes, eating at the green stuff. Ryli was still attached to John's coat with no intention of letting him pry her clawed fingers loose, so she would not be joining her friend.

Ronon dropped into a chair not far from John, nodded at Ryli vaguely with the jerk of his chin. "So? What're you thinking?"

It was a question that required consideration, just because it was so open ended but also because who knew if they were still being snooped on. John shrugged and scritched distractedly at Ryli's shoulder.

"I think we're in trouble but I think we can figure it out," he finally replied. "They learn fast. They listen when they like you. Worst-case scenario, we're all grounded for six months and have to move in with Halling on the mainland."

"For the record? Not a fan of that idea," Ronon replied, and it was written plainly on the disgusted look on his face.

"It will depend on how they do in the city," said John. He didn't know how that would work out any better than Ronon did. Wit scampered over and climbed the chair to make his way up to Ronon's shoulder. Wit was calmer than Ryli in general, probably because he was still only eight inches long and the world was probably pretty big when he spent a good chunk of his life so far with a giant like Ronon Dex. But the smaller Coppi still showed fight and spirit, and he liked chewing on Ronon's hair and smacking the ends around like a bat. And Ronon allowed it, which John figured meant he didn't mind the beast taking over his life for a while. He had asked for one, after all.

Being still started bothering John after a little while, too much time stuck in his own head, around the same time as Ryli woke up. She climbed on his shoulder and picked a fight with his hair rather than explore the room, though. It didn't help the antsy feeling bugging John right down the spine, but when he tried to pull her down, she hissed and bit at his hand. Again, she didn't break the skin, but she made her claim for higher ground, so John let her keep it.

"Gonna go find the Jumper," he announced, but he stayed quiet about it; Ronon was snoring. Wit looked up because Ryli left the room, but his human didn't seem to notice.

The trip down to the enclosure with the multitude of youngling Coppi had maybe thrown John’s sense of direction a little, but he mostly remembered the way back to the courtyard where he had put the Jumper. He wanted to get his stuff and his tablet and find something to do that wasn’t waiting. Ryli had absolutely no interest in working on her human-communication skills and had climbed on his shoulder the second John tried to work with her, so they could walk to find his tablet and she could sit and be stubborn on his shoulder and watch him play golf.

There had been too much heavy thinking so far that morning and John needed something that wasn’t the mental gymnastics of risk assessments and team security and the sneaking cloud of the rules and USAF codes of acceptable conduct. Rodney and Teyla were doing the heavy lifting on their alliance negotiations and John would back whatever they came up with for it and things would be fine. He just maybe also needed to make sure Wes hadn’t taken advantage of their distraction to strip the Jumper down for parts, just for reassurance.

That meant navigating his way back to the Jumper through a maze of massive stone walls. It was definitely a city, though, with people everywhere he went. Nobody recognized him, and with the borrowed clothes and the Coppi on his shoulder, he looked like everyone else, so no one volunteered to show him where he wanted to go, either.

One wrong hallway led to another one and the door John ended up with looked familiar but the direction felt turned around. He tried the door anyway, exiting out to a courtyard. There were many of them in the compound because it was as huge as a city. It wasn’t exactly on a cliff side even though it looked out over the ocean with a mile or so of leeway for even the most determined storms and high tides, so the city had the space to take up. They used the courtyards for training, which meant they had connecting hallways and doors for humans and doors for Coppi.

The only real advantage he could work out of the mess was learning that Ryli was allowed to walk on her own rather than be carried, John just had to make sure she didn't give anyone any trouble. He got turned around somewhere in one of the walled off hallways and ended up right back where he started. Twice.

On the second round, he figured out his mistake because he happened to run into the Cairnyth Regent, and it was a probably safe bet that the man didn't leave his corner of the city unattended very often because of the whole "local royalty" thing, regent in place of a king notwithstanding. The man crossed his arms and tilted his head when he saw John, looking somewhat amused.

"You look lost," Wes observed. John waved it off, keeping tabs on Ryli as the two humans stopped in each other's company without her permission. She stopped short of Wes and moved around to climb John's leg, a barely audible hiss coming from her until she was up within grabbing range and her human tucked her into his jacket and out of trouble.

"Not lost, just... enjoying the scenic route," John replied. "I wanted to get my stuff out of the ship."

"And you know how to get back to your ship?" Wes asked. It was a leading question and the man was politely not calling bullshit. John offered up a winning smile to cover for his pride.

"Maybe not as solid on that part as I thought I was when I left," he admitted. So he reluctantly accepted the Regent's offered assistance to find his way back to the Jumper.

"While we're there, I think you should teach me to fly the ship," the Regent said, seemingly deciding that on the walk and not a few hours earlier when he had demanded the same thing at the helm. Wes wasn't as cranky about it just then, but it still was a conversation requiring tact suddenly instead of the goodwill that John had gotten along on so far. They were in one of the connecting hallways and there wasn't anyone else hanging around, so it seemed safe enough to be honest.

"I don't think the ship will respond to you, is the thing," John said. "I mean, I couldn't walk out there and fly one of the Coppi. There's training, and they have to know you… the Jumpers are just… bigger and we don't have to feed them. They still have this thing where they have to know you to let you fly."

Wes stepped ahead and turned to block the path. John stopped walking then and sighed, tried to sort out how to handle the mess.

"You realize we have technology, correct?" Wes asked. "We have computers and machines here, like they had on Sateda and other places. We aren't some primitive people, John."

"Yeah, I realize that. You have some amazing things," John replied, confused. "I didn't-"

"I know how machines work and I know how Coppi work. I used to fly when I was in the corp, like you. So just because I’m kept in as Regent, don't assume I'm an idiot. They are in no way comparable. And computers do not have to know you," said Wes.

Well, that wasn't the intended take-away.

"Look, I told you, we don't even fully understand how it works," John began, trying to avoid starting any interplanetary trouble over a Puddlejumper. "We just know that the ships only turn on for some of our people. There's something in our blood. We can't just make it work for anybody, unless they have that same genetic thing. So it wouldn't do any good to teach you how they fly because some of the controls just… won't work for you. It's not that we don't want to share what we know, not that you guys couldn't handle it… it's that the machine won't let you."

"Do you realize how insulting that is? Blaming a computer for something. We program the computers-"

"I'm trying not to insult anybody, here, Wes. I'd teach you if I could, but Ronon and Teyla are from here and I can't even teach them," John interrupted. "They're my team, it would be great if they could take over sometime. But they don't have the right DNA. The ship doesn't move for them. The lights turn on, the doors open, that's it. That's how it's been for most of my people, too. Okay?"

That caused a moment's pause and Wes backed off of the flare of frustration. "Your own team can't fly?"

John nodded. "Nope. And in our city, maybe ten percent can talk to the computers. Maybe."

Wes crossed his arms, which was an improvement over the closed fists that had been dangerously close to decking the visitor with the bad news. "You can talk to computers?"

It was a better track than reminding the man that he wouldn't be giving him flying lessons, so John rolled with it and tried to tell him about the doors that opened on approach and the Jumper screens that would track down the exact information he asked for just by thinking of it. And the shields to protect against Wraith attack.

He didn't have to give away state secrets to tell the man about all the things they were still trying to figure out how to make work, because the list was long and Rodney and Radek were always glad to tell him about all the things they never had time to get around to. And it worked to convince the royal that John hadn't been insulting his intelligence by suggesting that a computer wouldn't work for him.

It probably took about a half an hour to talk the man down, and John slumped back against the wall before they were settled, relaxed but tired of standing and doing nothing but talk. He had tried getting Wes to walk again, would have rather explained everything with the Jumper as an example, but the man was stubbornly set on having his answers before letting John have his ship back.

So John let Ryli out of his jacket and she skittered around the long hallway, hissing at the random passerby but otherwise chasing bugs in John's general vicinity. And it let her human be lazy even as he tried to smooth over a rough patch in his plans for diplomacy with the very particular Cairnythian people. And it worked, too, because Wes commiserated about the trials of being in charge, boasted about flying with the Coppi, and mirrored him eventually to lean on the wall with him, just like everybody was all friends again. It was a good sign.

Until it wasn't. John realized he had played the wrong hand when the man leaned into the wall next to him rolled off his shoulder and pushed off the wall to instead turn toward him. Wes put a boot between John's and in the next move had his hands leaned on the wall just above John's shoulders. He went from relaxed and casual with a friendly acquaintance to boxed in by a royal.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Enjoyable conversation following an interesting debate," Wes replied. From way too close. John lifted a hand to motion between them.

"I'll give you that but that's not this," he said. "I don't like people getting in my face. This, not enjoying this."

There was an unexpected crackling noise, like a radio snapping to life, and John was surprised to see Wes flinch at the sound. Like he knew what it was. Another beep and John realized it wasn't his radio but was one on Wes. That the royal was ignoring as hard as he could.

"Regent… where are you?" came the muffled noise from the radio.

Instead of answer, Wes stared at him, eye to eye, and John was too close to see it as anything but a threat. He whistled to catch Ryli's attention and suddenly the Coppi was running across the stone floor, claws as noisy as ever, and Wes' contented expression noticeably hardened. He had to back off as Ryli jumped and climbed up John's jacket, flapping her wings as extra incentive to back off.

Wes took it out on his radio as he stood up, away from John, away from the wall, and turned to grab for the device at his belt that had interrupted his focus. "What?"

John stood up then himself and stepped away from the royal's easy access. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction they had been walking before the trip got derailed. "I'll find my own way. Let you get back to that."

Whether the man got busy going back to rule his city or he was mad that John wasn't going to play, Sheppard didn't know and didn't care. Getting cornered by the Regent was a dumb mistake and he should have seen it coming. If it screwed with his team or their arrangements with Atlantis, Sheppard would be pissed off.

Until then, the only real option was to avoid the problem until he could get around other people, hope it all went away if there were always witnesses around. Otherwise he was inclined to deck a royal, and in his experience in Pegasus so far, that never went over well for diplomatic relations.

So John set out again on his own to find the Jumper. He followed the hall to a courtyard, but it wasn't the right one. Then he tried the courtyard's connecting door to another hallway and then another courtyard and still didn't see the Jumper.

"Wanna bet we're gonna miss lunch for this?" he asked Ryli, frustrated at himself. He looked around and decided to just roll the dice, trying a door at random. It went to another hallway. Which went to another door. Sheppard walked out onto another sand-covered path, but this time realized he wasn't in another courtyard.

There were trees around, and grass and weeds. Things that the Coppi would eat. Or torch, if they really could breathe fire like the legends said; he had been afraid to ask so far because fire-breathing animals loose in Atlantis was not ideal and he was avoiding that possibility like the plague. John had found his way outside of the city entirely, and it had only taken him fifteen minutes of getting lost. That was great.

The door hadn't closed yet, so John could have gone back in and gotten himself more lost in the labyrinth trying to get back out. But that was going to be an hours long process and he was a little too close to pissed off at himself to try it. Instead, he found a sizable rock to block the door open and walked himself out into the grounds toward the ocean. And he flicked on his radio.

"Sheppard to McKay," he sent out the call as he went. There was an ocean. He wanted to see it. The trip wouldn't be a complete waste. If anybody asked, he ended up where he wanted to go anyway.

"Go ahead," came the eventual reply. Rodney sounded distracted, which seemed like a good sign.

"How's things going?" John asked. Completely conversational. Nothing to see, at all, about John wandering out toward what looked like sea dunes.

"Well, I would say fine. There's some interesting things with their choice of power supply. Nothing to replace a ZedPM, but maybe a good start toward a backup if we run low on Naquada resources. And it won't take too much to rig up the charging connection, just… parts we don't have with us, of course," said Rodney.

"Well, that sounds awesome," replied John. "Anywhere near a stopping point?"

"I have to be soon, it's lunch- where are you?"

John stopped walking. The wind was a lot louder outside the walls, and the ocean was probably adding to the noise. "Ryli and I went on a walk. So I think I'm… gonna need you to come get us. Just grab the Jumper and track me, kind of come-get-us."

"You didn't," said Rodney, and somehow the man could pack a lot of disappointment in two words.

"I thought I knew the way to the Jumper and… I might have gotten lost, is the thing," John admitted. There was a staticky quiet for a minute and John thought about going back just to make sure the signal didn't quit on him. "Rodney?"

"Do I have to point out all of the reasons that was a bad idea and a boneheaded thing to do? Or can I just assume you already know the list and chose to do it anyway? The latter would save us time," Rodney said. He wasn't yelling and he wasn't as annoyed as he could possibly get, so John was still coming out ahead.

"Rodney. I have your dragon. If you don't come get us, you'll never see her again," replied John, because he was not above hostaging an animal who had voluntarily decided he had one half of their joint-custody.

"Yes. Fine. As soon as we're done here, Teyla and I will detour to the Jumper to get you before we go get food," Rodney said.

"Good. Thank you," said John. "Make sure Teyla is the copilot."

"I'm not the idiot in this equation," scoffed Rodney. It was noticeable that he didn't elaborate and John accepted the man's word that the Jumper would be safe from the Regent's efforts for another day.

"Sounds like a plan. I'm going to go introduce Ryli to the ocean. So I guess you can take your time. Just don't forget us," said John. "Sheppard out."

He didn't have to work to pry Ryli off his shoulder that time and she immediately ran off the path to a fallen and deteriorating log and started sniffing around it. He kept walking, well past confident that the Coppi would eventually catch up to him. They headed out toward the water and further from the city.

In just a few minutes, the greenery all but disappeared and the hard packed dirt trail got rocky and slid under John's boots from the downward grade. The city was still up the hill from the dunes, a few hundred feet higher elevation than the ocean.

The trail was wide, though, and Ryli ran around up ahead, investigating. She was getting excited and kept jumping, her little wings flapping uselessly at the air every time she kicked off a rock or the trail. She ran back to John and jumped at him, catching his hip and climbing the rest of the way. She had worked herself up exploring new things and, after a whole day of new things, sat on his shoulder, panting. She started up with her crackling-sounding talking, just a bunch of croaks in fast repetition that randomly changed pitch.

"Oh, finally figured out that Rodney's not here, huh?" John asked, amused by the realization just as much as he was annoyed by the noise in his ear. "You're fine, Ryles. He's on his way."

That didn't settle her. She jerked and twisted, flapping her wings and clamping her claws into his shoulder. John slipped on the loose rock that covered the trail and he had to scramble to find footing.

Then he heard the noise. A deep rumble that wasn't the sound of his boots sliding on rock. The rocks kept sliding down, but this was a slow vibration that moved the whole trail with them, not just his boots kicking them up. Ryli's gruff vocals changed to a scared chirp and she jumped, without letting go of John's jacket. It tore a patch out of the shoulder but that was the least of John's worries as he kept falling. The trail collapsed under him and unlike the Coppi, he couldn't jump out of the way.

Chapter Text

By the time Rodney understood the noise that he heard and felt grating in his bones, he saw the room around him shaking. The tools and parts scattered across the work surface started rolling and rattling, vibrating away as the table seemed to slide.

"You guys get earthquakes?" Rodney blurted out. He reached for Teyla, not sure where to go in a castle during an earthquake and refusing to get further separated from his team. Everything was old stone and moving, so gravity was going to play a larger role soon. He braced himself on the desk because walking was too much like trying to cross a ship deck in a storm. Other people in the room were yelling over the rumble so Rodney joined in. "Please tell me this isn't volcanic!"

When it was done, the floor once again stationary, the ceiling was still in one piece over their heads. Everything that had once been on a desk or a shelf was on the floor, however. And from the last few hours, Rodney knew, that was going to be dangerous, with the potential for chemicals mixing in other labs that he didn't want to think about.

"We need to evacuate-" he began, but Nova pulled themself off the floor and tried to wave him into quiet along with the other people in the room. They looked first to the two guests, who were incidentally from a city that didn't have earthquakes.

"The city is fine. These events happen fairly regularly," said Nova. "Though rarely that strong, I will admit."

"We need to check on Ronon and the Colonel," said Teyla, not at all put off from her concerns.

"John was outside, he'll be fine," Rodney pointed out. "But we do have to check the Jumper to find him. He didn't say Dex was with him, so we should start inside and go out."

Nova didn't like the news, from the confused frown on their face. "I had them directed to your quarters until mealtime… they didn't go?"

"They did but John got lost somehow, but he said he was going to the ocean. Shouldn't be hard to find. I'm more concerned about whether or not the walls stayed up for Ronon…" Rodney was as impatient as Teyla and Nova looked crunched for time from their own concerns.

"I have to check with the Regent. Go with Dr. Muor to find the others," said Nova, and they directed the doctor who had been volunteered to take care of the newest complications. As Rodney and Teyla hit the halls, Teyla was on the radio, calling for her team to answer.

"I'm fine," came Ronon's voice. He sounded like he was grunting at things, probably moving fallen bookshelves or something. "But I can't… open... the damn… doors…"

"We are on the way to help," said Teyla.

"Sheppard's not in here," Ronon said.

"We know. He checked in just before it happened," replied Teyla. She passed along the news to their guide, who hurried and became harder to keep up with.

There weren't as many ornate details in this castle as there were up on the mountain, less statues and vases, but there were still random messes in the halls, where people had fallen and flags had come off the wall. Decorative posts around archways had fallen over, chairs flipped, and ceiling lights had smashed on the floor. They edged around a pile of glass and metal in one hallway and Rodney was glad Ryli wasn't in the building. She had a tendency to poke shiny things with her nose in her bug-hunts and glass would do her no good.

When they got to the building and floor that was apparently supposed to be their guest quarters, it was rather immediately obvious why the doors wouldn't open for Ronon: a large support beam had fallen down directly across the double doors. It was at least a foot wide and Ronon's visible efforts at shoving the heavy doors were hardly budging it.

"Ronon! We are here. Stop hitting the door before you bring the ceiling down on us," Teyla called out. The door stopped moving.

Rodney started investigating the visible construction of the room to make sure the fallen post was just decorative. It was wedged up against another post column just like it, but if it had been rolled loose by the earthquake it stood to reason that maybe it wasn't holding the weight of the surrounding walls. The construction was just as old as the castle on the mountain had been, though, so who knew how their culture did things. What was infinitely clear, however, was that three of them weren't enough to move a pillar of solid stone.

Dr. Muor called for more assistance, but the situation in front of the guest hall doors was a common one throughout the city. They would not be moving the post until a few more people showed up, so Rodney reconsidered the problem. He pointed Teyla's attention to the hinges on the door. The doors were decorative and hand-carved with impressive ironwork, but the hinges swung out into the hall and they weren't defensive like an exterior door. They wouldn't have to hold up against dragon attacks and trebuchet from inside the corridors.

"Do you have your knife?" he asked. "Pry the pins-"

Teyla had her knife in hand a moment later and stood on the post they couldn't move to start working the pins loose from the hinges. Rodney found a broken chunk of rock and, unbuttoning his stuffy coat to be better able to move, he knelt under the column to work on the bottom hinge. He was a goner if the column slipped from where it leaned on the other post but he tried not to think about that.

Between the two of them, they got the hinges pried free. The three people in the hall stood back as Ronon went back to kicking and shoving at the door, this time actually getting somewhere on it as the ancient door rocked off the supports and tilted back over the downed column. Ronon climbed out over it a moment later, with the nest-bag for Wit, so Rodney assumed the littlest Coppi was okay, despite the shakeup.

"Where's Sheppard?" asked Ronon.

"We have to go get him with the Jumper. He went out to the ocean," replied Rodney. He was getting a little impatient for that, now that he knew Dex and Wit were fine. With one emergency in front of him, Rodney had been steadfastly avoiding the fact that John had yet to check in on their radio calls, but that silence was all too obvious now that Ronon was once again mobile.

Teyla asked Dr. Muor if he knew how to get to the Jumper and the doctor pointed them down the hallway again. They had just made it to the courtyard with the Jumper when Captain Harker showed up, running down a side corridor to catch them.

"Dr. McKay! We need your help, right away-"

The Captain was a literal mess of blood and scrapes and looked terrible to Rodney's completely untrained medical perception. He shook his head quickly.

"I have to go get John-" he began.

"Dr. McKay… we have Ryli. She won't stop screaming," the trainer said. Teyla caught Rodney by the arm then and started pulling him toward the Captain. Rodney's brain was stuck on the suggestion that Ryli could be anywhere in the city when John had her with him outside of it.

"Ryli was with John," Teyla said carefully, reading his mind, apparently. "We start with her. Then the Jumper."

Rodney followed his team at a run. They ended up back in the training room with the yearling Coppi, but the place had been shaken up badly. Half their climbing equipment had fallen and smashed. The Coppi were all clacking and hissing and generally unhappy, with every trainer looking just as injured as Harker from having corralled the animals either into pens or up into the climbing nets anchored into the stone walls. Rodney could definitely hear one screeching, long-winded, loud call over the others that sounded much worse.

Toure pointed him to one of the climbing bridges that hadn't completely fallen apart when it fell, and there, half inside the little hutch built into it, was Ryli, by herself and crying in a full dragon call. Toure went out with him to keep any of the agitated Coppi from trying to defend her, while Rodney had to figure out how to coax Ryli down. She stopped screeching when she saw him but she didn't want to climb down to him. Rodney reached up and tried to offer scritches.

"Come on, Ryli. Come on down… let's go get John, okay? Where did you leave him, huh?" He tried to sound far calmer than he felt because John was always so conversational when he chatted with her to calm her, but the noise and the closeness of the room around him were adding to the anxiety already hitting him. She chirped a few times and then started chewing on a scrap of cloth in her little grabby, stabby fingers, her movements jerky and almost angry as she ignored him. It worried him more and Rodney firmed his tone, snapped his fingers like he had seen John training her on with his efforts at silent commands. "Ryli, come here."

Ryli chirped again and then got up, jumping to his shoulder. She climbed - with claws - down to tuck herself into his jacket. Rodney let her stay there but he poked around to make sure she wasn't bleeding or injured for all the screaming she had been doing. She still had the cloth in her paw and wouldn't let go of it, hissed at Rodney for trying to take it. So he let her keep it, just tried to get a good look at it. It was dirty but blue, and there was a button in the little Coppi fist that she wouldn't let him see. But the material felt a lot like Rodney's coat. He buttoned his coat a little higher up to pen her in, like a sling, and headed back for Teyla and Ronon.

"We have to find John. Now," he said. There was no argument from anyone that time.

"I'll go with you," said Toure. "I'm a medic for my unit."

The corridors back up to the courtyard were all impossibly long and Rodney felt like they had already wasted hours. But it hadn't quite been an hour since the quake. The city was still a mess and people loitered in the courtyard where it was safe. They were quickly chased away from the Puddlejumper, and AR-1 and their borrowed medic weren't slowing down enough to make sure people stayed back. Ryli started chirping from inside his coat once the engines started up, and Wit squeaked back at her from inside his nest bag in the seat behind Rodney.

Flying the ship wasn't as easy as John made it look. Rodney didn't have the freakishly high ATA working in his favor, so he actually had to push buttons and turn knobs and steer and tried not to attempt it all at once. It was a level of magnitude more difficult with a trembling and scared little dragon in his coat - dragons weren't supposed to get scared, damn it - and while worried about John.

Ryli had been with him, now she had a chunk of his coat but no John, so what had happened? Where was he? How had Ryli gotten back to the training room without him? He had a dozen other questions and the Jumper didn't have the answers. But Rodney figured out how to get the ship to start looking for Sheppard's transmitter and kept flying toward the signal.

"How'd you get Ryli?" Ronon asked. He sat behind Rodney, Toure behind Teyla, and Rodney couldn't exactly tell them to shut up and let him focus when it was stuff he wanted to know, too.

"We were dealing with the other Coppi when Ryli started screeching at the door. Somebody let her in, but she just ran up to the posts and started crying. It actually helped quiet the group and we got everyone to go to rest, but she's scared. She's too young and wouldn't let us near her. There was nothing we could do for her," said Toure.

"She didn't look hurt," Rodney said. "No blood."

"That's a relief," said Toure.

Rodney was distracted by the data screen, which said John should be nearby. It didn't match with the view out the window. A panic started to surface under the generalized anxiety and claustrophobia that Rodney had been feeling almost since they arrived at the Cairnyth lowlands citadel.

As he saw where the trail down the side of the hill suddenly disappeared on a cliff of its own, Rodney fought the slight tremble in his hands to keep them locked to the ship controls. He couldn't waste the movement, but containing it wasn’t any easier as he took in the first view of the damaged trail and forgot how to breathe for entire seconds.

The wall of the higher elevation had given way and rutted into the hill, carved out what looked like a riverfall of mud and sand for thirty feet across. It ebbed out over what had once been a more gradual incline and sunk down into the rocky beach below. Rodney felt nauseous as he realized that the mess he was witnessing all meant that the wide trail that John would have been following to get down to the beach, the trail he had been on with Ryli at some point just over an hour earlier, that trail suddenly just didn't exist at just about halfway down.

All that was left was loose rock and dirt and the random uprooted tree. Thankfully it was still nowhere near the shore, but it was evidence of a fifty foot fall amid and under tons of earth. And that was where the signal from Sheppard’s transmitter was coming from.

Despite the static buzzing noise of stress clouding up his mind, Rodney had to focus, even when his mind was asking questions that he could plainly see the answers to for himself and just didn't want to accept. Ryli chirped at him and snaked her head around under his arm to hide better, even though she was already as hidden as she could be inside his coat. She was a damn lizard and they had risked their necks to keep her and just then she was a grounding weight to keep him focused.

Because they could pinpoint the signal without seeing any signs of John directly, Rodney didn’t trust the readings visible on the screen. It was a ship, the area could be broader than the screen indicated, and he wasn’t taking any chances. So he set the ship down well away from the evidence of the slide and they worked their way back to it on foot with the assistance of the life signs detector. The beach was more rocks than sand, with mud from the slide spilling out everywhere to make sure-footing impossible, and a bitch to cross when he was shaking from adrenaline and still juggling a scared and bitey dragon.

The little life signs detector box pointed Rodney toward what looked like a massive tree that had been taken out with the slide, with a knot of roots jutting out of the mud that was almost as tall as Teyla. The ancient tree was not a human with any detectable life signs, but it was large enough to break and bury one, and the LSD was very insistent that the signal was there. Part of him refused to accept it but Rodney still pointed it out, still climbed through the mud with the others to look.

Ronon found the Colonel between branches of the trunk, mostly buried, his shoulder with the bright blue coat barely catching the scout’s attention. The sturdy trunk and crisscrossed branches protected him from the worst of the debris like a wall on one side. The tree hadn’t prevented his early burial but it had guaranteed enough room for air, because the man was still breathing in order for the LSD to find him. It had been an hour since the earthquake. Struck useless from a sort of shock settling in, Rodney hung back as the others started yelling for Sheppard and the life signs detector had too much information in one spot to keep track.

Ronon and Toure immediately started digging John out and Teyla started to help but then she saw Rodney and the Coppi poking out of his jacket. She put herself in Rodney’s view and caught his face in her hands to pull his attention off from what little he could see of John.

“Rodney!” and he realized she was shouting, more as some kind of distracted afterthought. It didn’t fully register over the white noise between his ears, Rodney tracking the echo of the ocean waves and the wind against the broken cliffside around them, the space around him big and open and still towering and not safe. John was hurt, John was down.

But then Teyla’s orders sunk in through the physical fog that Rodney felt, and he could see his friend and teammate right in front of his face, demanding he come back and help. Help John. Rodney nodded and Teyla gave a relieved smile but it disappeared quickly. She pointed him back toward the Jumper.

“He will need First Aid now. Get the board,” she ordered. He could barely see John, and what he saw was dirty and bloody and nothing that Rodney could help with, but following the orders was something he could do. And it kept him from asking all the questions that none of them knew the answers to. Staying busy kept him from considering how close to dead the man was or wasn’t.

Rodney nodded again and ran through the muck back to the ship to start gathering supplies. He sent Ryli up into the storage area after he took the supplies down, and tucked Wit’s nest bag up there with her to keep her there and not clinging to him. And then he was back out into the noise to help.

By the time he got back, they had dug a way in to John without burying him more and Ronon was carefully dragging him out by the coat and the belt and everyone was covered in mud as they slipped trying to help get Sheppard out from under the rubble onto the stretcher board. Their volunteer medic couldn’t do much because most of John was covered in mud, it had even soaked through his shredded jacket with the damn buttons and stained the white shirt underneath.

But there was blood there too. And as Teyla wiped at his face with a cloth from the First Aid kit, more blood, from scratches and cuts on one side, and along his arm. He was lopsided, one side took more of the fall than the other, and he wasn’t waking up. Rodney knelt in the mud, out of the way but looking over Toure’s shoulder, listening hard for positive news that wasn’t coming. John was too much of a mess to get anything useful out of a medic.

They carried him to the Jumper and he hadn't woken up or moved at all. Rodney wiped his hands off on his ruined jacket and collected Ryli from the ropes so she would leave John alone and carried her toward the bulkhead, with every plan to leave. Injuries could be fixed and John wasn’t dead.

Rodney was back to breathing, the shocky static held at bay by determination. The adrenaline had kicked in and he was focused: Get to the ‘gate. Go home. Get help. It had been an hour under dirt and wood and rock but he was still breathing and Carson was only a few minutes away to fix him.

"We should get him back to Dr. Beckett," said Teyla. She looked to Toure. "Please give our apologies to the Regent but we cannot wait. We must get the Colonel back through the stargate for care. We will be back when he is stable to continue our training."

The Captain considered it a moment before nodding. "There's no more trail up to the city. I will need a ride back up."

Of course. That made sense. It was annoying, but Rodney couldn't exactly abandon the man to the ocean and earthquakes. So Ronon closed them all inside the ship and Rodney got them up in the air again. As they approached the city, Toure pointed out an open door in the side of the wall, propped open by a big rock keeping it from closing.

"That's more than enough room for Ryli to climb through," he said. "So she got scared, returned to somewhere she knew."

"And she didn't have to fly over the walls," said Rodney, somewhat disappointed, for her sake. He was so far doing a poor job of protecting her, so it would have been fairer to her if she could at least fly away someday. But no such luck.

"Given where the landslide happened, I wouldn't guarantee that yet," replied Toure. The reminder renewed Rodney's anxiety and he started dialing the stargate even though they were making a stop first. As a Puddlejumper flies, they weren't that far away, and they needed to warn Carson that he had incoming.

But none of the dialing sequence would lock.

"What's wrong?" Teyla asked. And Rodney didn't have any idea how to answer. He changed plans and flew the ship off to the mountain. But the stargate wasn't showing up. Teyla kept trying to dial, but nothing locked in.

They discovered the reason why hardly minutes later; the stargate had fallen in the earthquake, and even the DHD had been knocked off its base by a rolled tree.

"Nonononono..." Rodney felt suddenly exhausted and a whole new level of anxious at the same time. They were on the outer edges of the galaxy and, even with a Jumper, it would take years to fly home without knowing the location of another stargate.

"We will have to ask the Regent for help," said Teyla. "Rodney, we need to go back. We can fix the stargate when John is safe."

It wasn't his favorite option, but without a stargate, it was the only one left. Rodney turned the ship around and sped back to the lowlands city. They would worry about John first, and could consider the ramifications of the team being left stranded in dragon-land later.

There was more noise and chaos when they landed the Jumper mostly back where they had found it. Nova and the Regent showed up, the both of them looking like they had lost a fight with a bowl of soup at some point since Rodney had last seen them, and from that point on everyone was yelling. Teyla was perhaps loudest, correcting anyone at all who tried to shove her team to the sidelines as they argued over how to tend to John. Toure was the only medic on the scene in the back of the Jumper, and they had to wait for Nova to pull together a team from whatever was still available of the city’s medical staff, and they had to find an available medical facility to relocate him to to start with.

It was loud and it was chaotic and Rodney couldn’t contribute to it at all. So he sat down, below the shouting, on the floor next to the stretcher board and the unresponsive John Sheppard. He couldn’t tell if there were broken bones under all the mess so he didn’t try touching, but he at least kept his attention on the fact that his friend was breathing.

Now just as muddy as he was, Ryli stuck her head out of his coat and sniffed the air, then crawled out and moved to curl up between John’s shoulder and Rodney’s knee, her nose sniffing all through John’s hair and over his face. She settled down with her head on his collar, with little soft chirps of complaint at the noise in the ship.

Eventually the discussion stopped and Teyla crouched beside Rodney to get his attention back. He wasn’t sure how long it had been and didn’t ask, just tried to listen when his friend told him they were moving John to get help. Which meant Ryli had to be collected and separated from the man before she bit someone.

That snapped him out of it a little more clearly and Rodney carefully collected the Coppi from where she had taken up a defensive position over John’s neck, hissing with her small teeth out and guarding him against the Cairnyth medics who were waiting to lift him out of the Jumper. She didn’t bite Rodney for the interference but she started rattling at him in her croaking noises that said she was unhappy about it.

Because he was a guest of the Regent, John was carried off by a team of men in uniforms to the building reserved for the Royals. What Rodney didn’t understand so clearly was why he and Teyla and Ronon weren’t allowed to go with him. They followed the soldiers and the Regent through connecting hallways and the stairways and were stopped just inside the fancy building, Rodney’s last glimpse of John from between bright colored coats before a set of heavy double doors were closed and blocked by more uniforms, these with weapons in their hands that likely weren’t decorative.

“What- wait!” he protested, but Teyla set a hand on his arm to keep him back. That bothered him, perhaps more than it ordinarily would have, but he was feeling decidedly off in general this time. He wasn’t sure why but he felt more responsible this time. He had absolutely no control over the movement of tectonic plates under the earth, and no control over the rules of alien royals, but he felt cut out of something that he was supposed to have a say in, nonetheless. And it probably had to do with the politics of the alien royals more than anything; he was expected to be John’s lifepartner, so he should have been allowed in with him to make sure he stayed alive.

“There are concerns about the stargate,” Teyla told Rodney, keeping her voice quiet. It made him focus and he frowned over at her rather than stare at the doors John had been carried through, into a wing he wasn’t allowed to follow.

“What the hell does the stargate have to do with Sheppard?” Ronon asked. He sounded particularly rumbly and Rodney looked up to realize he was standing much closer than the man’s usual required space-bubble, protectively crowding both Rodney and Teyla. She didn’t seem to mind and just shook her head.

“Should the stargate be irreparable, our people out of reach, we are no longer… elevated, as ambassadors. Should we have to stay, we would be welcome to join, as anyone else, and learn their ways and their customs and become Cairnythians. And accordingly, we cannot be granted special access to their levels of government beyond whatever stations we choose among their people. They go to great lengths to avoid preferential treatment. And thus it begins with us,” she said.

“That’s what all that bullshit was about?” Ronon demanded. “He was arguing politics while John’s right there dying-”

“They had nowhere to put him, their medical bay is damaged,” Teyla returned, shoving her muddy shoulder into the Satedan’s chest and lowering her voice to make him pay attention. “And I assured him that, with time and the assistance of his people, Rodney would be able to try to get the stargate repaired-”

“Oh, great,” muttered Rodney. He should have paid attention to the discussion over his head in the Jumper, even if his brain had been clouded and shocky from the fact that he had nothing for his mind and hands to actually work on to make anything better. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been volunteered for something that was very close to impossible if the stargate had been damaged at all when it had been rocked loose from the platform.

“And that, even should it not be something you can repair with the materials you have now, our team knows where we are and has the ships necessary to retrieve us in no more than a few months,” Teyla said, continuing on. “Ships that are not the Jumpers, that are larger than the Jumpers. So, in that instance, we are still ambassadors of Atlantis, and John will receive care, and we will be granted access to him. But for the sake of appearances, and for security, in the meantime, there are areas we must not go without escort. And until the city has settled from today’s events, we will not have an escort, and we will not have access to the quarter they have promised for John.”

It was bothering him, so Rodney blurted it out. “Well, I should, damn it.”

Teyla stared back at him, set a hand on his arm where it wouldn’t get snapped at by the Ryli-face sticking out of his coat at his elbow, but she didn’t have an answer for him.

“I suggest we wait a few hours,” she said. “Clean up. Rest. And, for now, do what we can to trust they will provide the help John needs now. Because, unfortunately, none of us are trained to do so.”

Rodney couldn’t actually argue with that logic, though he wanted to. He couldn’t help John. He didn’t even know what injuries he might have or what they looked like, though he had read enough medical books on his allergies and other issues over the years that he could worry himself into another anxiety attack very easily if he started worrying about concussions and other head traumas.

“I need something to do,” he said, desperate for something to keep himself out of his own head until he knew John would be okay.

“There is cleaning to be done, but-”

“Not that kind of something,” Rodney interrupted, because it wouldn’t work to keep the anxiety away.

“The power converters you were designing earlier will become much more useful if we will be here for any length of time,” Teyla replied. And she had a very good point, even if Rodney hated the truth behind the idea. It was still enough to keep him busy until they had something else to go on. He tried to remember the things he had been working on before the earthquake had derailed everything.

“So, if we can’t stay with Sheppard. Where are we supposed to stay?” Ronon asked. Mentioning John sent Rodney’s brain screeching to a halt again and he looked expectantly to Teyla. She sighed.

“The guest hall, where you were before,” she said.

“You mean the one with no door?” asked Rodney.

“He said they will have someone fix it. For now, it should be secure, as the room doors inside the hall do not have the problem with the fallen pillar,” Teyla pointed out. “Our gear is in the Jumper. All we need is a place to rest, where they will know where we are. It will more than suffice.”

Annoyance and determination won out more than any kind of acceptance over the arrangement and Rodney stayed in the guest hall where he was told to wait. Because of Ryli, he had to close himself into a bedroom in order to clean up and to try to get any thinking done, so he could let her run around without worrying she would run out the door back to the training room with the other baby Coppi.

Strangely, though, after scraping and showering off the mud and pulling his Atlantis uniform from his pack, he didn’t last very long at the room’s table trying to distract himself with power transformer requirements. The fading sunlight in the room got to him and he stretched out on the bed to take a nap.

Ryli pounced up onto the bed and curled up in front of him, her neck stretched out over his and her wings splayed out over his head and shoulder. It was the entirely wrong angle from what he had gotten more or less used to, when she propped one wing over him and the other over John. But it did a lot to dispel the claustrophobia he had been fighting with since they had arrived in the city.

It was dark when Rodney woke up. Ryli had moved away and he heard her hissing and being very loud in her defensive-noise-making. He picked her up on the way to the door to find out what she was upset about. Ronon was waiting leaned against the wall next to the door, looking his usual level of bored and stuck, with an added level of annoyed. Wit sat on his shoulder, though, so Rodney suspected the annoyance wasn’t with Ryli.

“What’s happened?” Rodney asked, scrubbing at his face and trying to wake up the rest of the way.

“Absolutely nothing. Except they brought us food. And got a team to fix the door,” said Ronon. “Figured you needed to know about the food.”

That was definitely true. Rodney couldn’t remember when he had eaten last, which was usually a bad idea. He followed Ronon out to find dinner. Ryli and Wit took over one of the rugs to figure out how to play while their humans figured out food. Ryli was not the tiniest bit interested in Rodney’s meal and turned her nose up at his efforts to offer her some of it.

She just went back to pouncing on Wit, who was, still, only ten inches long from tail to nose. Ryli was three times his length and at least that much bigger around when Rodney picked her up, but she still didn’t weigh very much. He wasn’t worried that she wasn’t hungry, just maybe a little offended that she wouldn’t take food from him. He really wasn’t having a great day to really know what to do with it without asking the Coppi trainers, and that wasn’t happening until one showed up at their door.

Rodney stayed out in the main room to stay near his team after dinner. He wasn’t exactly tired but he wasn’t exactly functional, either. The windows in the room helped ease off the anxiety, even though it was dark out.

Eventually the Aide Provost showed up, bringing along with them a person who was probably supposed to be a doctor. They had a report on John's progress, though Nova seemed to waver between making it to Rodney or to Teyla. That rankled a little, in ways Rodney couldn't justify; he wasn't actually anybody's husband and the whole of Colonel Sheppard's team had as much right to know how he was as Rodney did. Still, he squared his shoulders and stuck his chin out as he tried to stare down the two messengers.

"I'm better now. So how's John?" he asked.

"Still unconscious," said the person with Nova. Maybe Rodney was better, but he hadn't paid attention to the doctor's name. He wasn’t Carson; a name wouldn’t make Rodney any more likely to trust him. "We cleaned him up and treated various wounds, as well as set a broken arm. He did not come to awareness, but he was at times responsive, and we are monitoring the potential swelling in his brain."

"I'm sorry, his what, now?"

"The tests we have been able to do so far indicate concussion, Dr. McKay. We are monitoring him closely. Our teams are trying to clean up our operation bay as a precaution. We may have to relieve the inflammation surgically, so we are preparing for the possibility, to handle it appropriately. We will not act without care and a clear path," said the doctor.

"Well, can we see him?" Rodney asked. He could process "concussion" but the notion of the foreign medical technology drilling into John's brain was maybe just a little too close to a hard refusal and he was latching on to anything that would let him do something. Sitting and berating John for being stupid enough to go wandering off on his own would be doing something, because John would wake up and argue back enough to tell him to shut up. That's how it worked.

"In a few hours, we hope," the doctor replied. "There is so far, positive movement, so we don't want to change his environment until we know more."

And that was how they handled it: a few hours at a time. A check in every few hours. The sun came up and Rodney was sleeping in the comparatively uncomfortable chairs in the main room of the guest hall, with Ryli on the back of it and hissing at Teyla and Ronon if they got within three feet of him without depositing Wit on the chair for her to be distracted by for play.

Meals came with check ups. A few hours after breakfast, the sciences team showed up to resume discussion and planning on the power requirements for the tablets and laptop, and Rodney distracted himself considering the possibility of solar power, lecturing the Cairnythian engineers on the necessity of certain minerals and other parts that would take months to track down. For all Rodney knew, he would have the time.

He still wasn't sure if John would.

But he was trying to do what Teyla said, to believe that Nova's team had their best interests at the center of their actions. And hope that this technology-competent culture they had found themselves in, with their archaic aesthetic, actually had designs on modern medicine thanks to their generations without Wraith interference. They had seen it before, with cultures like the Hoffans and others, so once Rodney reminded himself there were computers hidden in the desks of the castle, he could almost stay focused on that enough to work.

And Ryli tended to jump up onto the table and disrupt pages and tools when Rodney got too focused on work and started getting snappy at the strangers around them. She was glad to hiss and spit and cough at them in his defense. Rodney had to collect her off the table and go work on her training whenever that happened, buying off her cooperation with a bag of beetle-jerky. Wit usually started complaining at Ryli getting attention that involved food, which could start off a back and forth of their weird, crackly, demon-talking, unless Ronon or Teyla stepped in to work on training with him, too.

It made Rodney feel better, like something was normal when everything was very definitely not, when he otherwise felt inexplicably fragile. The scientists treated him like they expected him to break, very apologetic and hesitant, which was a sharp contrast to the report from Nova and John's doctor that the Colonel couldn't have visitors yet. It was just a yet… they would get to see him in a few hours.

Chapter Text

The first time John woke up, everything was too bright, just stabbing yellow lights contrasted with dark shadows and black spots. Everything felt weird and fuzzy and out of focus. Someone John didn't recognize showed up and ran a weird-looking wand over his head. It was more bright lights, these were green and red, and a warbled voice told him to close his eyes, but John wasn't sure he trusted the advice until the lights stabbed him. He closed his eyes and kept them that way for a little while.

The second time, the room was brighter, but it didn't hurt so badly. Which made room for Sheppard to realize that his whole head hurt, not just his eyeballs from bright lights. Specifically, it felt like it was building up pressure and just waiting to crack open. Like a boiled egg. He had a boiled egg for a brain. Great.

He still didn’t have a clue where he was. Everything was covered in sheets, or blankets, or something heavy and thick and a dark purple-red color. It was a big bed, he was camped out on the edge of it that didn’t have the curtains closed all the way. They were mostly closed, aside from about a foot of space right by his elbow. He could see out, sure, but what he saw didn’t make sense. His head hurt. He couldn’t figure out why he was seeing some goddamned room from an Excalibur movie and trying to make it make sense hurt worse.

So John reached for the curtain to close it the rest of the way, to remove the problem of even the gentle sunlight, and the problem of the room that wasn’t a hospital. Moving his arm took more energy than just closing his eyes, though, and he hurt all over, so the curtains didn’t make it an inch. John didn’t remember actually touching them. He just passed out.

The little in-and-outs of consciousness happened a lot until he finally woke up and his head didn’t feel like it was going to crack open anymore. It was more like it sat in cold water and had already cracked. The worst was over, it just had to calm down. He could actually take stock of more than just the pain in his head and that seemed like an improvement. The fact that everything hurt wasn’t exactly a good thing, but at least he knew about it finally.

He couldn’t remember why he hurt. But he had a fuller assessment of the situation than he’d had as a boiled egg.

“Ow.” He made noise just to make sure he could still make noise, but the echo around in his skull hurt a bit so he reconsidered the wisdom of ever trying that mistake again. John was definitely awake then, and it hurt, but he didn’t know what to do about it yet.

Not long later, someone showed up at the bedside. They weren’t wearing a white coat or nursing scrubs, so when added to the weird bed with the curtains all around it, John figured out that he wasn’t at home.

“I see you’re awake, Colonel,” said the human. Or he was pretty sure they were human, anyway. With their close-cut hair and weird accent and bulky coat with buttons down the middle going the wrong way, it was anybody’s guess if they were male or female human, but John felt pretty confident in at least that much.

“Maybe?” he replied. If anyone wanted confident answers from him, they were going to need to give him some time.

“How do you feel? I’ve sent for the doctor,” the person said.

“Like I got taken out by a bus,” John replied. His visitor’s relieved expression turned confused.

“What is that? A bus?” they asked.

“I’m… not in Atlantis anymore, right?” John asked rather than fight with an answer.

“No, Colonel. You, your husband, and your team are guests of the Cairnythian people. We still hope to repair the Disk and ally with Atlantis. Teyla has assured us it will not take long to reestablish the bridge between our planets,” said the helpful host, though they still seemed a shade concerned. That was fine because John was confused and he didn’t know where to start trying to sort it out. For one thing, he was a Major, and nobody in their right mind would ever let him climb higher than that, but this person was very set on the whole Colonel thing.

“Teyla’s… Teyla’s good,” he said, starting with the basics. Good and bad. Teyla, good. Team, good. Husband… that one tripped him up. Disk between planets sounded like a broken stargate, but that would be firmly bad. And John hurt and thinking was not helping. Both bad. The tally wasn’t looking good, so far. “My team’s okay?”

“They’re all fine, though your partner has not taken to your isolation well, but it was deemed necessary,” came the careful answer. John started to try to push himself up and ask to see his team and make something make sense, but his arm protested with a very loud, somewhat annoyingly familiar pain and John looked down at a cast on his right arm, limiting movement and probably hiding something broken. Great.

“You should rest, Colonel-”

“I wanna see my team,” he said. “Or just… Rodney, or Teyla, just one.”

“The doctor first, Colonel. You don’t actually look any better, now that you’re awake,” said the now-annoying human who wasn’t letting him have his team. John glared up at them.

“Who are you? Where’s Rodney?” he asked, as much of a demand as he could make it, under the circumstances. That made the person who stood by his bed actually drop their jaw slightly, nearly step back as they looked off over their shoulder somewhere John couldn’t see because of the curtains around the bed.

“My name is Nova. I've been working with you and your team since your arrival. I take it I'm not familiar to you?" they asked, being very careful. John blinked up at them, trying and failing to remember anything about them. He tried to shake his head in a negative and quickly realized that it hurt worse than talking.

"No. What happened?"

"You were on a trail with your Coppi, outside of our walls, and you fell in a landslide. You've been unconscious for two days. We've been monitoring you for brain activity, but surgical intervention ultimately wasn't necessary. The swelling went down yesterday, which was lucky, as our surgical facility is only just functional today."

"What the hell is a Coppi?" John didn't feel any better knowing answers that didn't line up with anything at all that he remembered.

"You call her a dragon," said Nova. That definitely didn't help.

"Am I hallucinating? What did you give me-"

That's when more people showed up, none of them John's team. Nova introduced one of them as a doctor something-or-other and the other as the Regent of Cairnyth, which sounded important, so John tried not to get mad about not having answers. The doctor did those doctor things, where they get all touchy and in his space with lights and something that might have been a thermometer, asked about how John was feeling all over again and didn’t want to hear about how he was feeling just a little bit pissed off.

“You have been here for days, Colonel,” said the guy Nova called the Regent. He had blue eyes that reminded John very much of Rodney and did absolutely nothing to make him feel better about not remembering where he was or how he had gotten there. “You don’t remember any of it?”

“No. I told you. I don’t. Last thing I know I remember, I was with my team, and we were coming back from dealing with Kolya on Dagen. Bastard stole our ZPM," said John, growly and not feeling bad about swearing at the strangers. It wasn't like they knew what he was talking about. "Hey, where's my radio? I can talk to my team on that-"

"I've sent for your husband, but you shouldn't be getting so aggravated, Colonel," said the doctor. "There may still be inflammation, getting angry will add to it."

Again with the word John had no frame of reference for, his wife had been an ex for five years and she was not a husband. It knocked him off the anger only slightly, confusion the larger problem, and all of it adding up to something like panic. He felt it hard to take a full breath and wasn't sure if that was because everything hurt or because he couldn't remember having a husband and that seemed like something he would remember.

"I don't- you keep saying it and I don't get it. What's a husband?" he managed, trying for something that would have to make sense. Define a word. Make sure the English language hadn't changed on him on this planet, wherever he was. Basics. Keep it simple. Keep breathing.

"Your lifepartner? You said you had been together many years," said the Regent, looking surprised and strangely suspicious. That was no help at all to John then.

"I don't remember anything," John said, feeling it hit that time. "I mean- I remember Rodney and Teyla and Ford, but-"

"Who is Ford?" asked Nova. John was slightly proud of himself for remembering the name he had just learned, but he couldn't remember the other two names to save his life.

"He's a Lieutenant. On my team," said John, because he knew who Ford was.

"You did not bring anyone named Ford. Only yourself and Dr. McKay, and Teyla Emmagan and her partner, Specialist Ronon Dex," said Nova. They shook their head and looked to the doctor. "This… this is not how he was."

"Not at all," agreed the Regent.

John tried again to sit up, this time more careful now that he knew there was a brace or a cast or something on his arm. The doctor tried to help him rather than talk him into staying down when he was obviously not okay with staying down.

There was a noise then that was actually familiar and John caught his breath for a moment as he recognized the familiar thump of McKay’s boots on the floor and the cranky doctor demanding to know where John was. It was a little weird that he was John and not Major to other people, but it was still Rodney so John didn’t complain. He wasn’t alone, wherever he was, even if he couldn’t remember a damn thing.

Nova and the Regent stepped aside as Rodney huffed up, like he had been running. John stared as he realized his friend was carrying a small animal that looked suspiciously a lot like a dragon. The thing started squirming and twisting and raising up a chattering racket of clicking noises when it got close to the bedside. Rodney ultimately lost the battle with it and the lizard-looking-cat-thing jumped down on the bed and climbed immediately up into John’s face. The damn thing was rattling like rain on a washboard like it was purring, and it kept shoving its nose up against him, finding every single bruise John hadn’t been aware of until that very second.

That was an experience all it’s own, but a very close second was Dr. Rodney McKay leaning over the edge of the bedside to get in his face, too, like the dragon wasn’t even there, and very carefully kiss him on the lips, like that was a thing, and then rested his forehead to John’s. A very careful hand scruffed up his hair without any apparent plans to untangle itself.

And Rodney just stayed there and it was almost nice, even a relief, but it made no sense. John stared at him from right up close, a new level of lost.

“Rodney…” he managed, just barely attaining any volume at all. “What’s going on?”

"Currently? We're celebrating the fact that the voodoo leeches didn't kill you. After that depends on you," said Rodney. And he sounded relieved. He sounded downright happy. They were stuck somewhere without a stargate, and there was a dragon that kept headbutting them, and Rodney was happy.

"I don't remember voodoo leeches. I don't know where we are," John finally said. He didn't want to move because it was going to hurt, but he had to pick up his uninjured arm to block the scaley-soft nose that kept shoving at his face. Rodney opened his eyes and stared at him, the happy very definitely gone. John felt bad about that but at the same time impatient, willing his friend to read his mind and do some kind of info dump download that would make it all come back, whatever he was missing.

"You don't remember?" Rodney asked.

"Who's Specialist Ronon Dex and where's Ford?" John countered. His questions were more important than redundant. Rodney eased back but he was still stuck, staring at John with one knee on the bed as he leaned in close.

"Oh my god."

The dragon shoved up onto his face again and John tried to get his hand between to deflect the creature. "Why am I being attacked by a dragon?"

Rodney pulled the dragon down and over to himself instead. "You don't remember."

"I just said that."

Rodney looked like he was about to hyperventilate. John's head was starting to hurt again. He wasn't really expecting it when Rodney stood up slightly, enough to get his knee off the bed, only to turn around and sit there instead. He stared at the doctor and ignored John, with the dragon once again squirming to get loose. The purring noise had traded for chirping. It settled with its head on Rodney's shoulder and stared at John with really big eyes. It couldn't be real.

"What happened?" Rodney asked the doctor, apparently well accustomed to the wiggling dragon. He was all but ignoring it as he directed the question John had asked to someone else.

"Memory loss is sometimes a factor with head trauma, Dr. McKay," replied John's doctor.

"Will he get it back?"

"Hey, he's right here," John cut in. The dragon at Rodney's shoulder suddenly let out a noise that sounded like a high-pitched clacking, over and over, very fast. Rodney swore, carefully quiet, and turned back toward John then. He helped himself to John's blankets and settled the dragon under them, on his lap (which thankfully was clothed), and tucked the blanket back over the dragon wings. He caught John's hand and put it over the blanket.

"Hold her. She wants you," he said. And John did, wide-eyed and mind-boggled as the trick worked and 'she' quieted down again, aside from the weird purring noise. She poked her head out from under the blanket to crane her next back and stare up at John with his chest as her pillow. He still didn't remember her, but she obviously remembered him. She wanted his attention and she kept stealing it.

"It's possible he could remember at some point, but there's no way to know," the doctor went on. "We can keep up with the regimen of medications, as we have been, and he is improving on them. It may be when the inflammation goes down, he could recover some things-"

"What medications? Could they be causing it?" Rodney asked.

"Would you rather he go untreated and in pain?" the doctor returned. "The medications reduced the swelling and seem to have been effective…"

"He's not from here, I just meant, we don't know, if something from here is the… the memory thing," said Rodney. The both of them were defensive and John's head throbbed.

"I could really go for drugs right now, McKay. I don't think it's the pain medicines," he offered, quietly. Rodney looked back at him, frowning.

"You've had concussions before. You've never forgotten anyone," he pointed out.

"Repeated head trauma over time can have more deteriorating effects. The brain is fragile. It will react differently each time, more drastically if there are a series of injuries," said the doctor. "If the Colonel is in pain, I should go get the treatment prepared."

"Yeah, okay," replied Rodney, but he didn't seem sold yet. And there was nothing saying he had to be; it was John's head, if they had medicine to make it stop hurting then he would go with it, because he was well past the pain threshold that could be taken care of by the Tylenol in the First Aid kit.

"What happened to Ford?" John asked, because he had Rodney's attention back. The man shifted to face him a little better, reached to touch his arm and dropped his hand to the bed by his thigh instead.

"Ford left a year ago, John," said Rodney. "He was attacked by the Wraith, went crazy and tried to kill us- god, what's the last you do remember?"

"Dagen, when Kolya took the ZPM," said John. He watched Rodney physically sag. "So… over a year ago?"

Rodney nodded. "We've been in Pegasus for three years. If … I mean, if that's really the last you remember? If it's not just scrambled up somehow? You're missing most of that. So much- God, John, you're a Lieutenant Colonel now-"

"They said we got married and I have a dragon," added John, glancing down at the lump of a dragon curled up very tightly against him. So he had proof that at least half of what he had been told in that regard was certainly true. He looked up and Rodney had gone very pink and couldn't seem to get words out. So the man nodded and shrugged, it all still weighing him down.

"Yeah," was all he said.

"But Teyla's here?"

"Yeah, and Ronon."

John heard the name again and tried, searching his memory for anyone that would match with the name. "The only Dex I remember died in Afghanistan," he said.

"Ronon's Satedan. He's probably never even heard of Afghanistan," replied Rodney. "Shit. This is bad."

John felt the urge to apologize but that was stupid; he was the one who had lost his memory. It just made him more frustrated and he stayed quiet. Quiet didn't hurt so much, anyway.

The doctor showed up then. John had pretty much decided he wasn't going to ask the man's name at this point, just to avoid anyone making faces at him like it was more proof that he was dying or something. He was a little concerned when he saw that the man carried needles, the syringe kind, and plural.

"Hey, what's that-" he began. Rodney started trying to collect the dragon so the doctor could approach and the thing started hissing, baring her front teeth at him without removing her chin from John's chest. Rodney didn't seem more than annoyed at her, but he also didn't fight her about it, either. He just stood up and stepped back, lurking where he could see and hopefully interfere with any potential animal attacks.

The doctor kept an eye on the dragon but otherwise stood by the bed and explained the three syringes full of different colored liquid that sat next to John. He didn't like the looks of them at all. But he didn't like the headache, either. And there wasn't much point refusing care after two days of the stuff working. So even though the needles looked large and painful and one of them was going to be stabbing him in the neck, John agreed to it.

The dragon in his lap didn't, however, and she started hissing again. Rodney sat down on the side of the bed again, out of the way, and covered her face with the blanket. It quieted the dragon. Then he looked down at the tray of needles and back up at John, held up his hand to take, if he wanted it. Like John was a kid and needed the morale boost.

The first of the needles came at him then and John caught the offered support at the last second, staring at his friend's hand entwined with his rather than at the needles. The medicine stung and then burned and he wasn't sure he wanted the third one, but he wasn't going to back out after signing off on it. Maybe he couldn't remember a year of his life but his pride was still mostly intact and he wasn't chickening out of an anti-inflammatory. And Rodney let him hang on to his hand all through.

"Dr. Melann, would it be helpful or harmful to move Dr. McKay into the room? At least, until the Colonel can be released to his own?" asked the Regent-guy. He was probably important, but John had a new pain in the neck and couldn't remember why he was supposed to know him. He wanted everyone to leave, anyway. The shot in the back of his neck hurt like hell, but when that faded away, a slow-spreading numbness actually let John relax. The pain in his head eased off and his arm and chest were a dull ache instead of active pain.

"Like that stuff," John muttered, his head sagged against the pillow. He fell asleep again in a matter of breaths, with a dragon curled up in his lap, and still hanging on to Rodney.

When he woke up again that time, it was darker in the room, even though now the curtains around the bed had been opened up. John blinked out at a room that made even less sense now that he could see more of it. It was a huge room, with stone floors and walls with thick rugs and wall hangings, heavy and hand-carved furniture, shelves and tables and chairs and couches with padding and pillows that all matched the bed curtains… The Hoffans had come close to that kind of emphasis on skill and comfort, but very few others.

John had no idea where he was. It was disturbing. But he had a whole stack of pillows propped up behind him and he was pretty well packed in, crawling out would take work he didn’t feel up to yet. There was a steady, warm weight on his lap, like the local housecat had decided to curl up there while he slept, but peeking under the blanket, he saw something that was instead blue scales and black fur and big eyes. John set the blanket back down and tried not to move much.

“Oh boy,” he muttered to himself. He vaguely recalled talk of dragons. But that had seemed more in the abstract, not-really-there kind of way. For some reason he was more comfortable with assuming he had hallucinated the things he couldn’t remember. But hallucinations didn’t take up space under the blankets on his lap.

“You actually like her,” came McKay’s voice from surprisingly close. John had to sit up a little to see around the pillows he had been encased in to find Rodney sitting on the other side of the big bed, no pillows in his way, as he hunched over a tablet. “Well, you liked her. Before. You were training her, everything.”

John frowned at him and sagged back into the pillows, shifting enough to keep the wall of fluff out of his way without having to actually move anything. “Does she have a name or anything?”

“You let Ronon name her because you said I couldn’t call her Schrodinger. She’s Ryli, apparently it just means lizard in Satedan,” said Rodney.

John snorted at that bit of news, amused and slightly upset. He could imagine there was an argument behind not letting Rodney name the… dragon. Not that it was a stupid name or something, but a dragon just wasn’t a cat. Rodney didn’t seem inclined to pick it up again, though, and John was just mad that he couldn’t remember the old fight, so starting up a new one didn’t seem like fun. Rodney was still watching him close, too.

“She was with you when you fell. She even came back with some of your jacket. She hasn’t really eaten or anything since they stuck you in here. When you feel up to it, the quack said you can try to feed her,” he said.

That seemed like a bad sign for the little dragon and John peeked under the blanket at her again. She stuck her nose up and sniffed and then just left her head on his chest again. There was a big bruise there but she didn’t hit it too hard as long as she stayed still. John tentatively raised a hand to scritch at her nose between her eyes and the animal started up with a congested sort of purring noise. It all kicked something up and he looked back over at Rodney as he struggled to land on the memory that wouldn’t quite surface.

“Nova said you weren’t much better,” he said. Rodney shrugged and turned his attention to the tablet in his hands again.

“We had to wait for news on you. That meant no leaving. Ronon was ready to kill me to put him out of his misery and Teyla’s tired of babysitting, so I guess, yeah, you woke up at a good time,” he said. He tapped at his ear to draw attention to the radio there. “I’ve got this so I can tell them what’s going on with you, so they can leave the room now. Things will be better when they let us out of here. You’re better. Right?”

“Damned if I know,” replied John. His head wasn’t splitting open just then, so everything else was tolerable. He couldn’t remember if that was an improvement or not, though. He nodded at Rodney’s hands where he fidgeted with the tablet. “No ring.”

Rodney went rather pale, one of his tells, and shoved his fingers out of sight under the tablet. “What?”

The details were fuzzy on a lot of what John remembered from the last time he woke up, but the whole husband thing stood out. He wasn’t going to be talked around it. “If we’re married, where’s the rings?”

Rodney opened his mouth and tried to start a few lies before he finally said, “Look, we didn’t exactly bring a jeweler with us to Pegasus. Until the IOA took over, there were certain things we had to just… take a rain check on.”

John scrunched his nose, confused and derailed. “What do you mean the IOA took over? We got a ‘gate back home?”

“Oh god. You don’t rem- of course you don’t.” Rodney dropped the tablet in his lap and scrubbed at his face. “We have ships that can hyperjump. They go back and forth, supply runs and things. We can do data transfers back to the Milky Way either with the ships as a relay or when we dial in. We’re not… stranded, anymore. Not exactly. We’re more like… an outpost, than anything, really.”

It made sense but it also tripped John up. “Wait. That’s why they called me Colonel? We’re back under orders from the SGC?”

“IOA, but yes,” replied Rodney, nodding.

“Whatever. We’re under orders again, and you and I got married?”

Rodney seemed to get stuck again, his mouth hanging open like he could catch flies. “Well. I mean. One had to happen before the other…”

John wasn’t going to let him shut down on that detail. He had been in the US military too long to ignore the part where he wasn’t supposed to even look at other men without facing disciplinary, let alone get married to the Chief Science Officer on his team. “How.”

“I’m Canadian,” said Rodney. “Loopholes. Elizabeth worked it out through the IOA.”

The mental gymnastics involved made John’s head hurt. But he could trust that Elizabeth would work out those kinds of details into something ironclad that nobody would bother arguing about. Besides, John had already been court martialed once, so it wasn’t their problem if he wasn’t an exemplary soldier in another galaxy; they originally sent him off as little better than canon fodder anyway. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” agreed Rodney.

“When did that happen?” John asked. Rodney looked almost wounded by the question, stared very intently at the now-blank tablet that had gone to sleep.

“You said since day one,” he said. “When we met.”

The callout was a little surprising. It wasn’t something John could argue against honestly. And if they were already married, there wasn’t much reason to. His pride couldn’t be too scuffed up admitting things to somebody he had apparently already admitted things to. He squinted down at the dragon that still stared at him, barely even blinking. She didn’t have any answers, but she was cute and made him feel better, bolstered him up a little.

“Well, yeah,” he said, feeling a little winded. He blamed the bruise on his chest and scratched at the weird linen shirt he didn’t recognize, like angering the bruise could get his breath back. Rodney glanced over at him, looking startled.

“Really? You remember?” he asked. John shrugged and tried to get the itch between his ribs to stop.

“I mean, that stuff I remember. I… sorta kicked it around for months and… just couldn’t do anything. So it… I dunno, I guess it leaves a mark,” he said.

For what felt like ages, Rodney just stared at him, making John fully paranoid that he had somehow screwed things up for the version of himself that could remember things. Someday he had to get back to being that guy, the one that didn't have big blank spots in his head whenever he tried to remember how he had gotten stuck where he was, in some fancy alien bedroom, with Rodney, and a dragon.

There were other things he was certain of, though, and he was feeling slightly defensive of those things. Nobody could tell him how he felt, damn it, John was the guy behind that, whether he admitted anything to anyone or not. And apparently, at some point, he must have said something to Rodney. There was no dancing around being married.

Rodney surprised him though, anyway, by leaning over and into his space. He kissed him again, this time more carefully than the unexpected space bubble invasion from when John had first woken up. This time, John wasn't so shocked by it, and he knew he could return the effort. He kissed him back, even licked at his lips to take it deeper, and leaned into Rodney's weight against the pillows John was propped up on. Because apparently it was okay to do that and John had just forgotten the details. He had a lot of territory to recover if he was ever going to get the memories back. Maybe Rodney was the best place to start.

Chapter Text

The crux of the problem was that Rodney McKay was a terrible liar. He lost money at cards and was absolutely worthless at withstanding any kind of interrogation, all because he was usually right, a significant percentage of the time, and he did not have the capacity to accept anything less than accurate. It was a hard lesson learned over the span of an entire lifetime and not one he could just switch off because, say, his life depended on it.

He had tried, and so far, it didn't often come out in his favor. And he knew John Sheppard knew that. He had called him out so many times, even when it very definitely went against the team's best interest. John knew Rodney's tells and he never let him get away with them.

Except now. Except when it was maybe the most significant lie Rodney had ever told in his life. Then, for whatever reason, John believed him. And he trusted him. And it was all because Rodney told a lie that maybe, just a little, even he wanted to believe. It just made everything worse.

That night, because of it, Rodney couldn't sleep. The Regent had cleared his own room for John under the emergency circumstances following the earthquake, and two days later, he still hadn't asked for it to be returned yet. There was space, and quiet, and the medical staff had easy access from their nearby building. It was a kind gesture, the magnanimous, royal thing to do for an injured ambassador, but Rodney didn't trust it.

The doctor who had been assigned to John quite literally did nothing else, aside from sit in the anteroom just outside of the room John was in. He kept a close watch on his patient, even after Rodney had been allowed in with him, and was on top of any noise from John. Rodney didn't like the door open as he prepared to sleep, but the doctor quickly propped it back open before it had fully closed. The effort was accompanied by a lecture about required access to his patient and the admonishment that the anteroom exterior door would remain closed specifically so that the interior connecting door would stay open.

All of which meant he heard every word from inside the room, either from the open door or some sneaky listening device. Rodney couldn't prove they existed, but he couldn't prove they didn't, either, and throughout human history, entire wars had been fought over such simple paranoia. Rodney couldn't declare war on the kindness of their hosts, but he could refuse to sleep in his underclothes in somebody else's bed.

So he did what he often did, stayed busy, stayed awake, and ignored the things he couldn't directly change in his environment. At least, he tried. He wasn't so good at it. John dropped off to sleep at the blink of an eye and Rodney was left to talk to himself or to Ryli, neither of which were intelligent options when he was being spied on, as maudlin self-confessions would have unknown and potentially dangerous consequences. And maybe John was the one who was physically bruised and battered, but Rodney felt like shit because he'd had to lie.

He kept looking over at his friend to make sure he was breathing, just asleep, under the mess of scrapes. Somebody had cleaned him up all over and combed or washed all the dirt out of his hair when they were looking for injuries, so it was easy to see the colorful bruise on John's cheek under the scrapes, all the bruises on his arm. The other was probably just as bad, considering it was under a cast. At least they hadn't had to cut his hair for surgery, as that would have been a whole different round of shock to the man's system; if he wouldn't even cut his hair for Air Force regulations, getting it chopped off by alien quack doctors would have sucked. But John hadn't required surgery, he was getting better, so it would work out. They would just… have to talk about it later.

Rodney fell asleep at some point, sprawled out on half the bed, next to John and his pillows. He still had his shoes on, which he figured wasn't so bad since he was sleeping on top of the blankets, but it was probably against some etiquette somewhere that Rodney was willfully invested in ignoring.

He woke up some time later with a leathery Coppi wing over his head as had become the usual. She couldn't catch John under the other this time because he was propped up on all the pillows, but she had crawled out from under the blankets to take her turn watching over Rodney, too. When he woke up, he sat up, hunched over his knees, and scooped Ryli into a cuddle. The purring started up almost immediately.

"She is cute," John said, and Rodney looked up to see the man awake and sitting up, away from the pillows, like he intended to go somewhere.

"Told you, you like her," replied Rodney. He nodded at the leg John had over the edge of the bed. "Going somewhere?"

"Been and back already," John replied. "I figured they didn't let you in here as a nurse, and I could handle it."

"So you're better?"

"Just dizzy." John shrugged. "Look like shit, though. Somebody could have warned me."

Rodney balked. "What part of 'You fell fifty feet in a rocky landslide' did you expect meant you get to walk away with swagger and a modeling contract? Do think about your face at least next time before you decide to argue with gravity and a few tons of rock, hmm?"

John glared at him for it, but his lips quirked up in a grin. His tired reply was curbed by the doctor walking across the room then, his assistant at his heels, and various tools of his alien trade at the ready. Whether it was just John's voice that summoned the man or the specific mention of being dizzy, Rodney didn't know, but he wasn't surprised at all. He thought it funny, though, that the patient had been allowed to walk on his own to the attached bathroom entirely unnoticed until he started to talk. The next time Rodney got his hands on any kind of tools or materials at all, he was making himself a bug-detector.

John was politely grilled for a status update, and he sounded mostly honest with his report. He could sit up, talk, walk, do basic self-maintenance, and turn his head fully, side to side. The dizzy part was a worry, and he probably shouldn't be trusted to tie his own shoes still, though Rodney kept the observation to himself because John regularly couldn't be trusted to tie his own shoes.

John said his arm hurt more than his head did, and reported that he could actually remember more about the last time he was awake. Both of those were, he said, an improvement. The doctor made encouraging noises about it, but he still waved the weird wand with the lights all around John's head. It was some kind of diagnostic scanner, but the doctor hadn't used any words that had meaning to Rodney the last time he had asked when it was used on John.

"Can we go back with our team?" Rodney asked. Not that he wasn't concerned for John's health, but their host's rules about how best to maintain it were chafing.

"If you wish to leave your partner to us, you may return to your team," the doctor informed him, with very intentional emphasis on Rodney's good riddance. "But the Colonel should stay here. I will check the status of the inflammation and hopefully have better news for you shortly."

"Thanks, doc," John said, ever the peacekeeper between Rodney and leech-letting quacks who weren't Carson Beckett. Rodney stayed where he was, slouched over a cuddly, purring Coppi, and made faces at the man's back as he crossed the room and disappeared. John didn't say anything about it, just shoved one-handed at the pillow mountain until it was scattered and he could lie down. That lasted approximately thirty seconds before he was pushing himself up again.

"I want that side," he said.

"What?"

"I didn't stutter," said John. He started to stand up and Rodney quickly put Ryli down to try to make it off the bed before John could. Dizzy added to everything else, he shouldn't be wandering around unnecessarily, otherwise the doctor would have let them leave.

"Okay! We trade, give me a minute," Rodney said, half in a panic and half complaining. He didn't have time to figure out what John wanted before the idiot was trying to do something he had just been told not to do. Rodney wasn't a caretaker or a nurse but he didn't have to be useless, and he could trade sides so John didn't walk around him.

Ryli sat in the middle of the bed and stretched as Rodney cleared the path. John managed to move over without standing up and was promptly pounced on by the Coppi. He curled on his side around her and they were treated to more purring.

It was only then that Rodney figured out the bedside trade was so that John could do exactly as he had done, lay on his side facing Rodney instead of the wall, due to the interference of a broken arm. Communication would have been nice, a helpful way to avoid the harried rush, but Rodney was cognizant enough not to open that hypocritical can of worms. Instead, Rodney dug up the tablet that he had fallen asleep on and that John eventually buried under pillows.

As they had the night before, Rodney poked at math problems on the tablet, and John curled up with Ryli and figured out if he was going to be awake or asleep from one minute to the next. And Rodney stayed quiet rather than risk any more lies. Rodney McKay not talking to his best friend was, frankly, a monumental undertaking, considering everything.

“Hey, McKay?”

Oh crap.

Rodney was not so engrossed in the work that wasn’t working on the tablet screen that he could pretend he hadn’t heard. He stalled with a few useless taps before looking up with a “Hmm?”

John seemed to be stuck, just staring across the big bed at him rather than talking. That was actually preferable and Rodney had no complaints. He broke out swearing when the radio in his ear chirped and reminded him he was wearing it. John blinked at him, realized out loud then that he had lost his radio, and Rodney just nodded. Over the one in his ear, he heard Teyla’s voice.

“Rodney, could you please come out to the common area for a moment? They won’t let us into the private floors to see you,” asked Teyla. She sounded understandably annoyed, but her usual polite. Rodney scrunched up his face and rubbed the heel of his hand over what felt like it might be a tension headache starting up. He grumbled about rules and then nodded at the person who couldn’t see him through a radio connection.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” he said. He dropped the tablet again as he stood up. When he looked back, John was still watching him. “They won’t let Teyla and Ronon up here.”

John didn’t seem overly moved by the news. “I’m kinda okay with that.”

The quiet comment surprised Rodney and he stared at John for a moment, absolute confusion on his face. And then it kicked him in the gut. “Right. You don’t remember Ronon.”

“A lot of things,” John confirmed. And that was the likeliest reason as any for why Teyla would be kept out, because their patient had specifically indicated he had no idea who her pretend-husband was. Stress, complications, all of the noise that would come with letting the team back in… Their hosts weren’t just being control freaks, they were just… helping. Right. It was a damn good thing John remembered Rodney or none of them would have seen him again. Frustrated and conflicted, Rodney stood where he was, trying to head off in two directions at once until he figured out how to prioritize it.

“Right. I’ll go see what they want. And be right back,” he said. And then he headed for the door before he could change his mind again. Ryli poked her head up over the edge of John’s cast to look at him but she didn’t opt to accompany Rodney out of the room. The doctor sat in his chair at his improvised desk, which was cluttered with tools of his trade as badly as Rodney was with any of his makeshift labs around Atlantis, and let him leave without much more than a glance up.

The door wasn’t locked, they weren’t trapped, there were no guards standing by to protect or to intimidate, either one. John just couldn’t sit upright without getting dizzy and the Cairnyth Royal Household had an amnesiac among liars.

It was less the walk down stairs that set the scowl on Rodney’s face than it was the entire situation; John was hopefully getting better because everything else seemed like it was getting worse. Out in the common hallways between less sensitive areas of the Regent’s building, Teyla and Ronon waited at a guard station. There had been a smile on Teyla’s face when Rodney first turned the corner, but it faded by the time he got there.

“What has happened?” she asked, while Rodney was still twenty feet away. He waved them both off and kept walking, needing fresh air and as much of an open space as could be found in a city with ancient, towering, stone walls. Unlike John, the two of them knew there were spies and snoops very interested in anything the team had to say, so they didn’t say anything at all on the way outside.

They ended up at the courtyard with the Puddlejumper, not very far from the Royal’s building but well out of sight and snooping distance, and Rodney looked up at a foggy sky with no sun yet visible. It was still cold, and early, but daylight waited beyond the fog. He had been stuck in that room for a day and hadn’t realized it.

“Rodney? Is John okay?” Teyla asked, her patience a little lower than before.

“No. Well, I mean, yes, but no. He’s awake. He’s moving. He said his head doesn’t hurt as badly…” Rodney rattled off the status of the injury list as he knew it, from the concussion to the busted ribs to the broken arm, as he paced along the side of the Jumper. He wasn’t going inside the Jumper, but he could hide behind it. Teyla and Ronon gave him room but not a lot.

“So he’s getting better,” said Ronon, like that solved something. Rodney stopped and looked up at him.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied. It wasn’t an answer that made sense and Rodney realized belatedly he had left out a very important detail. He looked between his friends, trying to figure out how to tell them and warn them about it at the same time. “Look. None of it’s okay yet. He… John doesn’t remember the last two years. Of anything. At all. I had to tell him about Ford last night and he wouldn’t believe me. And he doesn’t-”

Rodney broke off mid-word because it didn’t seem right, even to him and his messed up ways of understanding other humans, and he couldn’t figure out how to tell Ronon that his friend had just forgotten who he was. He started pacing again.

“Rodney. Doesn’t, what?” Teyla pressed. Because even Teyla knew what it looked like when Rodney McKay wasn’t telling the truth.

“For one thing, he doesn’t know when I lie anymore, and that’s a big problem,” Rodney complained, though he had gotten quieter. Teyla’s eyebrows crept up in their delicate, accusatory arches and Rodney sagged, glaring up at the sky. He stepped closer to his friends so he could stay quiet, but the stress was still leaking out in frustrated energy. “Well, they told him we’re married, didn’t they? And I can’t exactly clarify the record, can I? He asked about rings, I had to tell him we just hadn’t gotten around to it. He didn’t catch on. He doesn’t remember. He doesn't know where we are. He didn’t remember Ryli. He doesn’t remember Ronon. But he’s good with me being there. I don’t even know what to say-”

There was a moment where Ronon Dex actually looked his age, just a lone kid who happened to carry a really big gun to keep himself out of the trouble his attitude tended to get him into. It wasn't exactly scared but there was some kind of fear, and it only stood out because Rodney wasn't used to seeing anything like it from Ronon. But the big man squared his shoulders and adjusted his jacket.

"So tell him the truth," said Ronon. Like it was that easy.

"I don't know what happens if I do that," said Rodney. "You don't know. So we can't do that until he can at least get out of the Regent's bedroom, preferably to the Jumper, where it's safe. But that can't happen until he can stand up without tilting over sideways. He's still under the doctor's care, and he needs to be until the… the… thing in his head is better."

There was a lot involved in what was wrong with John just then and Rodney waved a hand rather than elaborate correctly. His friends got the point, damn it.

"So we get him back through the 'gate," was Ronon's next conclusion. Rodney sighed and nodded because he at least agreed with that one.

"That would be ideal, but these people don't know the stargates, and what we saw was a mess," said Rodney. "It will take days-"

"Well, we will find out what can be done," said Teyla. "We are leaving for the mountain shortly. With the engineering team, to help see that it is put back together correctly. As best as we can."

That derailed Rodney's mind from John's problems entirely. "What? When did you two start putting stargates together in your spare time? I'm the one who should go on something like that…"

"Not until John can be relocated," replied Teyla. "They will not let us in to see him. And if he is having the troubles you describe, he should be with his friends. It will help him heal, keep him safe."

"Not when his friends can't tell him what's going on," Rodney replied. Teyla caught his hand to make him focus on her again instead of getting stuck in his own head.

"You can be perfectly honest, Rodney. Just be careful," she said.

Rodney scoffed. "Right. Get me some parchment, I'll write him the Dear John."

"No, just don't be an idiot," said Ronon. "Like she said, just be your annoying self. Sheppard will go for whatever you tell him. Has since I met you, so this won't change anything."

"Yes, well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Rodney replied. "That's what John told me."

Ronon nodded his approval of that. "See, what'd I say?"

Rodney stared at him, annoyed and confused how the man could think everything was fine. "Are you dense-"

"Enough," interrupted Teyla, annoyed at the both of them. Ronon crossed his arms, sniffed, holding himself above the problems of his team.

"Sheppard trusts you to watch him right now so you'll do it," he cut in. "We trust you here, to make sure things work out, so you'll do it. Nobody's expecting either of you to do something you wouldn't anyway."

"Except lie," said Rodney.

"So. Don't. Lie," returned Ronon. "Just be your stupid self, I told you."

Rodney looked to Teyla for the translation, absolutely beyond confused and frustrated with whatever language Ronon thought he was speaking. Teyla looked between them, unsettled but seemingly following better than Rodney could. She tugged Rodney to face her directly, catching him by both arms to stand close and speak quietly.

"While you may not have sat for a ceremony, Rodney, you are partners and you are friends. And for some, that is all that is required. There are no special rules to follow. No roles to play. Do you understand? Be you and John, as you are with us, and let John remember who that is on his own," she said. She even smiled. "I promise you, you have not changed that much since I met the two of you, so it will seem no different to him."

"But what if we go home-"

"Yeah, and what if we don't?" cut in Ronon. "We don't know yet."

"None of us know," agreed Teyla. "That is why. Just take care of your friend, for now. Help him remember himself. Worry about the rules later."

That finally made at least a little sense. It seemed possible, maybe he could just tell more stories, try to remind John of the last few years, not the last few days. Distraction for the both of them. Rodney had an eidetic memory and could describe everything, from every planet, every piece of technology on every ship his friend had flown between two galaxies. Rodney took his first full breath in what felt like hours and he nodded. "Okay. Okay, I can do that."

Teyla smiled, because she had known Rodney could do it, and squeezed his arms encouragingly. "Good. Then you do your part here. And we will radio in a few hours with an update from the mountain and, hopefully, from the stargate."

It wasn't right, letting them see to the stargate without him. It could make everything worse. Rodney had seen enough of the site to know that the 'gate would have to be notched back into the platform, and that would take an entire team, and maybe they could rig something to the Jumper to help move it into place… but he was stuck miles away. It wasn't a trade off of duties, just recognizance, a more constructive use of time they would otherwise spend getting nowhere. So Rodney reluctantly agreed and what was left of AR-1 split up to their different tasks.

That meant that Rodney walked back to the Regent's building on his own. The guards allowed him in without hesitation and he walked back up to the Regent's rooms without an escort. He was met at the anteroom by the Regent himself and the man's Aide Provost, both looking fitted out in rain coats.

"Dr. McKay, welcome back," greeted Wes. He smiled but Rodney still didn't trust the man's face. "Colonel Sheppard said you went to update your team?"

Rodney nodded, distracted as his way back to John was now definitely blocked. "Yes, they're going back up the mountain to help with the stargate, which I assume you're aware of."

"We asked them along, yes," replied Wes. "Nova suggested they may have valuable guidance for our teams."

"Well, not to be too blunt, but I am one of the foremost experts on stargate technology," Rodney began. "I should be going with you."

"When the Colonel is well enough to travel, certainly. It wouldn't be proper to expect you to relocate without your partner," said Nova. "The Coppi training has obviously been re-prioritized, so the focus should be on the Disk, and we should try to re-engage as quickly as possible. For the sake of your own people. We don’t want them to assume the worst when they can’t check in."

“Yes, yes, of course,” Rodney said quickly. “It’s just that the stargates can be very fragile in certain aspects and if you aren’t familiar with them as I am then it can be damaged further. Which, it’s obvious, we don’t want that, either…”

“As Nova said, it would be improper to send you without the Colonel, Dr. McKay,” said Wes. He nodded to Nova. "What they did not mention is that he right now is very fragile in his own right. We’ve just heard the report from the doctor himself, and your partner is not to be moved. There are significant signs of improvement that could be impaired or reversed entirely with one mistake, and travel over such a distance is far too dangerous.”

“We recognize your expertise in this matter, Dr. We have made no secret of our general disinterest in the Disk. It is a tool, but it is not something our society has built our survival around as others have,” Nova added, surprisingly patient. “But we are facing a limitation of time. We must start what we can, with what we have, rather than sit idle to continue to wait for your partner’s healing.”

"I appreciate your concerns toward the Disk, but as Nova said, we do need to act. They are also correct in that my people are perhaps not the experts that you and your team may be. However, we are not exactly ignorant, so I assure you that, between your team’s knowledge, and their ability to communicate from the site with you here, and those among our own teams who have some familiarity with our Disk and the copious records we have of the Disk platform specifications, I believe we can make good headway while your partner recovers,” said the Regent.

And, of course, that would have to be the final word on it. He was a Royal, Rodney was just an alien scientist, and one who still, like it or not, needed their help.

Rodney had a long list tallied up of things that weren’t fair under their current circumstances. At the top of that list was, admittedly, John, as Rodney had been much happier exploring things with the man when he trusted that John was himself, and now he couldn’t tell. But the Cairnythian society rules were now adding to that, turning his friend into a lead weight that was dragging on Rodney’s ability to make sure his team got home.

It was frustrating and it was pointless, when Teyla or Ronon could have just as easily stayed behind to help John more than Rodney really could. John needed to be reintroduced to his friend, and Ronon would surely knock a few memories back into place and start the process more than Rodney could manage with storytelling, but now because of the rules that wasn’t an option.

“Right. Right, well, I should go catch him up on everything then,” said Rodney, shoving down the frustration. Wes smiled and stepped aside to graciously wave him through.

“Of course. If you should need anything, just let my staff know. Nova and I will be supervising the work on the Disk, so we will be leaving shortly as well. However, their secretary will be here and have full authority to ensure you and the Colonel are taken care of,” Wes said. Rodney nodded his thanks for the consideration and stepped by to check on John.

He found his friend sitting on the floor against the bed, legs sprawled out and his back supported by the side of the massive piece of hand-hewn furniture with more pillows behind him. Ryli sat on the floor in her perfect pouncing pose, staring at John's uninjured hand as her preferred human reached into her food bag. He produced the food and hid it behind his fingers before pointing down and snapping. Ryli dropped her tail and raised up, like a sit, the opposite of her pounce, and she held very still aside from the furry tip of her tail twitching on the carpet. The cooperation was rewarded with the bug jerky treat and John scritched her on the head as she chomped.

The man was smiling, which was nice, considering his otherwise abused state. Rodney gingerly propped himself up against the edge of the bed, on the floor with his friend and cross-legged over the rug instead of invading his space. Ryli jumped over John's leg to run up and sniff at Rodney's chin before going back over to poke her nose at the treat bag. John scooped it out of the way and handed it to Rodney for safe keeping.

"How's Teyla?" he asked. He was quiet but almost sounded normal. Rodney shrugged.

"Fine. Nova asked her and Ronon to go with them to check on the stargate. They said they hope to fix it before Elizabeth gets worried."

"They?" asked John, squinting like he was confused. Rodney waved toward the door across the room that led out to the equally large anteroom where he had run into the Regent and his entourage.

"Nova, the Aide Provost…"

John nodded vaguely but still looked uncertain. Despite the fact that he still held an attainable treat within pouncing distance of a Coppi, he risked the health of his fingers as he paused to look over at Rodney. "I can’t tell if it’s a he or a she, either."

"They. Don’t be an-" Rodney remembered the door was open at the last moment and quieted slightly but still diverted course. "Rude and ill mannered."

“What? I didn’t say anything,” John defended, quieter still like a kid who had been caught in a lie.

Rodney was annoyed on principle now. Nova had helped the team at every turn, despite the rules, and their Regent referred to them with respect and as they. Certainly, Nova was not the only one on the man's staff who was careful with their neutrally-gendered appearance and John was going to be in for an awakening if he ever regained his balance enough to explore out into the city. That was all evidence enough for Rodney that they could be respected whether John’s head hurt or not; guilt-tripped sympathy points weren’t a free-pass to be an ass to any of their hosts’ people. Even if Rodney didn’t fully trust them.

"They're a they. After all the help they've been so far, I think we can be more respectful," he said, maybe a little more snap to his tone than necessary. He had started out some level of annoyed when he had left the room and it only got worse with everyone he had talked to. And now he came back to find John just maintaining the new apparent status quo; Rodney wasn’t having it.

John reflected on that as he let Ryli have a treat she didn't have to negotiate for and nodded. "Got it."

Then he bumped Rodney’s shoulder with his, because of course Rodney had sat down on his right side once more with the casted arm right there to be jostled, and Rodney looked up at him. It got him kissed just lightly on the lips, that awkward sort of first-date, hesitant smooch that doesn’t quite sneak in like planned. Rodney’s thoughts got stuck on it.

“What’s that for?” he asked. John shrugged, barely noticeable, and tilted his head like he had to stretch his neck.

“You stuck around, looking out for me,” he said. He hesitated, reached over for a bit of the Coppi food from the bag Rodney held, and shrugged again as he settled back against the pillow behind his head. “So thanks.”

“Oh. Of course...” Rodney tripped over it a few times, equal parts content with the simple ego stroke and frustrated that John would have expected the possibility of anything less, from Rodney especially. “I just…”

John looked over at him, curious, waiting. “What?”

“Do you remember Doranda? The Arcturas Project there? It was a long time ago… maybe you remember that one?” Rodney finally managed to ask. He was working his way back toward complete thoughts at least.

John was quiet, silently entertaining Ryli with commands for her to follow, and she lay down and stared at him as she waited for the treat in John’s hand. “Sorry. I don’t know what that means, buddy. Why?”

Rodney sagged a little and turned his attention to the treat bag as something to do with his hands, fidgeting more than anything. He squinted at the floor. “Because this feels like that. And I’m afraid I’ll screw it up again.”

John shifted against the pillows enough to look over at Rodney, a frown on his face. “Was I there at that thing?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Good. Then tell me about it now. And we won’t screw it up this time,” John replied. “Maybe I’ll remember something, get something familiar out of it, I dunno.”

That had been Rodney’s plan not that long ago, but he was suddenly reconsidering it. “What if you don’t remember? I mean… maybe you will, but I mean, what if that’s just not so bad an idea? We screwed up a lot of things. Forgetting some of it’s maybe not so bad. Some of it I wouldn’t mind just… deleting from the hard drive.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me about that stuff. Just the rest. And start with Doranda-whatever,” said John. He scrunched up his nose as he considered what he had just asked and carefully leaned forward, letting the stacked pillows fall that time. “Maybe help me off the floor first though?”

Ryli bounded forward to attack the fallen pillow, forgetting the food bag, which made Rodney’s life just a little bit easier. He still aimed a baleful glare over at John. “Oh that’s rich. As soon as someone helps me up, sure. Nothing’s changed, my knee still-”

John looked back at him innocently. “What happened to your knee?”

Rodney sighed. His knees had been bad for years. Sheppard was just milking it. And Rodney let him get away with it. “Nevermind. Just... Give me a minute.”

Chapter Text

It turned out that Doranda was a bit of a shit show. McKay's version of events didn't seem to skip out on any details, either, even though the story really didn't make him look good. John had to give up on staying upright because his head started to hurt, but he wasn't sure the headache wasn't simple stress; he had helped blow up a solar system. Or five-sixths of one anyway. That… that was a lot.

"So the Ancients built this thing. But we couldn't get it to work right. And trying to fix it, we broke it?" John asked, squinting over at Rodney. Horizontal was the best place for John's aching head to rest, so he was glad the dragon was fine with sitting still for a while. He was determined not to sleep another day gone, and as long as the doctor didn't give him the shot that knocked him out, he would do it.

And Rodney was helping. His friend sat in the comfortable mountain of pillows this time, and Ryli had curled up between them with her tail wrapped all the way around John's wrist. But the stories were still intimidating.

"That's basically it. Give or take… all the details," said Rodney, shrugging.

"And how exactly is this like that?" John motioned between them carefully, trying not to dislodge the dragon tail. Rodney hadn't expected the question and made an O with his mouth, seemed to get stuck there for a moment.

"Right. I… guess I skipped that part," he finally said.

"What part?"

"The… well. Elizabeth wasn't going to let me go back to Doranda that last time. She said it was too dangerous and wasn't worth it," Rodney said. He seemed to slump a little against the pillows. "So I went to you, told you I had the numbers, told you, you know, if it worked, I'd get the Nobel Prize out of it and we'd have a weapon that would defeat the Wraith and I just… asked you to trust me on it. And you did. Caldwell got involved. He bullied Elizabeth into going along with it."

"Right. You told me the part about them…"

Rodney looked over at John then, with the weirdest expression John thought he had ever seen on his friend's face. He was serious, but he was worried, but there was something else John just couldn't figure out. His head hurt and he hated feeling like the dots weren't connecting.

"The thing is, though. I lied. I didn't have the numbers. Or rather, the numbers I had, I didn't want. So I wanted to try the others until they worked. I knew what was wrong and did it anyway. And I think you knew I was lying and you trusted me to do it anyway," Rodney said. He shook his head, still unsettled by it. Which John supposed was a good thing, considering they had blown up a solar system. "You were mad at me for weeks."

"Probably not," John replied, not really thinking before the words were out of his mouth.

"Oh no, you were. You went out of your way to avoid me. Nobody believed anything I said when we went through the 'gate until I showed you the numbers on a tablet or just proved it somehow…"

"I mean, sure. But it wasn't at you," said John. He was stuck with it and had to explain himself now. But it was easier because he couldn't remember anything about what Rodney was telling him.

There were the faintest feelings about things, he remembered being mad in a way that was vaguely familiar when Rodney had said he had been mad, but there were no memories to draw from, nothing to prove to himself the feeling was real. But he still knew himself and, blown-up solar system notwithstanding, what Rodney had described wasn't so much what he would have been mad about.

"I don't follow," said Rodney. John risked losing the dragon tail bracelet to grab at Rodney's hand, like he could make the man understand him just by a data download via touch when he screwed up talking.

"You said you lied, said I knew it and went along anyway. I screwed up the call," he said, tugging on the hand in his. "You're a shitty liar, McKay. I was pissed because I wanted it to work and ignored the stuff saying it wouldn't. That's on me. I'd get pissed about that."

Rodney squinted down at him, his forehead pinched and his lips flat. "Do you remember or something?"

"No. I just- Look, unless you're going to tell me you caused an earthquake on a planet we just got to, which I'm not saying you couldn't if you really wanted to, just that you didn't, here... I'm not going to be pissed about anything, okay? From what you said, I screwed up, right? I took Ryli and left the team and the landslide kicked my ass. You weren't there. You said I got mad before, I'm just saying what I was mad about, and that's not this. Nothing to be mad about."

It was a lot of talking and John was tired but he wasn't going to doze off again, so he kept playing with Rodney's hand as something to focus on. He remembered that he had always liked the man's hands, always stared at them, no matter what stupid, boring, technical thing he was doing. And now the fact that there was no ring on them stood out as he wove their fingers together.

It was one of those things he thought he would remember something of, after so long watching Rodney work tablets and terminals and wires. Why hadn't he ever found somewhere to buy a damn ring? They went to markets. The Athosians made rings. He could have done it any time. He should have. John curled Rodney's hand in with him and Ryli, content to keep it if Rodney would let him, and pressed a kiss to the back of his fingers.

"So you're saying you were a jerk to me because you were mad at you?" Rodney asked. He sounded skeptical, but the question derailed John pretty effectively. He couldn't remember to know the answer. But he could guess.

"Probably," he muttered against Rodney's hand.

"Not because we blew up the project?"

"I mean, you said it was an entire solar system," John pointed out, not about to overlook that detail, populated or not. "But I'm not saying I wasn't just an asshole, either."

"Right," said Rodney, rolling his eyes.

Immune to the full laundry list because he couldn't remember it, John tried to weigh out multiple years of things he couldn't remember beyond a jumble of feelings and colors he couldn't parse out. Then he glanced up at Rodney again.

"I'm sorry I was an asshole so much and I'm sorry I can't remember all of it," he said. Because if he had learned anything at all from the marriage that he could remember, and the subsequent divorce, he was usually bad about saying owed apologies when they were due. Rodney squeezed his hand but he looked away, out at the room beyond the massive four-poster bed with the heavy curtains.

"Fuck," he heard his friend swear, hardly any volume to it. John grinned despite himself.

"About that…"

"Nope. Nope, no, no way," Rodney said, comically fast and his ears turning pink. "No stories there. None. No."

John smiled into the hand he still hung on to. A moment later he felt himself fading out and went along with it, just to see if he would feel better on the other side of a quick nap.

When John was aware of being awake again, it was darker in the room, like the sun had changed locations but was still out, somewhere, and Rodney was pacing. Ryli had even abandoned him, balancing on Rodney’s shoulder as the man paced by the windows, talking to himself. As John came more online he realized that Rodney wasn’t talking to himself, he was talking to Teyla on the radio in his head. John blinked groggily and sat up - that was still an exercise in pain and he felt like an old man, rolling more than sitting until he could figure it out - to look out at what the two were up to.

Ryli had her wings half up, flapping at random, either for balance or just to hit Rodney in the head, John couldn’t tell, and Rodney kept snapping fingers and talking with his hands. Considering how John had worked with Ryli on trying silent commands based on hand movements and finger snaps, the poor little Coppi was probably quite confused. So she crouched and turned her head one way or the other, sometimes reached out like she could steal treats from Rodney’s hands even though the treat bag was still sitting on the shelf where Rodney had put it earlier.

“Yes, the internal parts need to be protected from the rains, but at this point, we might as well throw the whole DHD off the cliff, shouldn’t we? It’s been days. I might be able to fix it, I don’t know. Maybe a few days to dry off can save it-”

That didn’t sound like anything good. Rodney sounded particularly stressed about it.

“We can use the DHD from the Jumper, right?” John asked, still a little blurry but trying to keep up. Rodney nodded, distracted, not quite realizing where the comment had come from.

“In theory, yes,” he replied. Then he blinked and realized John was awake. “Oh. Hi…”

John started to nod, realized that perhaps head movement was still a risky proposition, and instead waved his hand a little. Rodney pointed to a table not far off from where he was pacing. “There’s food. If you count it as food. More like tea that thinks it’s a soup. But edible.”

John considered the distance between his very careful slouch on the edge of the bed and the table with the promised food. Rodney’s attention went back out the window quickly.

“What? Oh, yes. He’s awake…”

Determined not to give the man anything to report for Teyla to pass along any new Athosian wisdom, John forced himself up to his feet and used the side of the bed to help keep balance. The vertigo eased up after what felt like at least a half an hour and he was able to make it to the table and one of the heavy chairs.

“Well, he’s walking a little... sideways, but he was talking fine,” Rodney tattled.

John narrowed his eyes at him briefly before investigating the food. There was a loud thump and John looked back to see Ryli had launched herself off of Rodney’s shoulder down to the floor and scrabbled up to let herself into one of the other chairs. She could easily have jumped onto the table but that apparently wasn’t the trouble she had set her mind to and she instead stared at John just over the edge of the tablecloth and around the big karaffe of soup.

There was a tray of things that looked like breads and vegetables in strange colors that John had to remind himself were not the strangest things he had ever eaten in Pegasus, (that he could actually still remember) but the soup was the closest to the Ryli-danger zone. Still stuck with one hand in a cast, John carefully moved it away from the edge of the table and the snoopy Coppi. He pointed at her nose as she sniffed at the air.

“You stay,” he warned, but he didn’t remember if he had ever worked on that with her to know if he could expect her to listen. She stared back at him, completely unimpressed, but also, thankfully, not jumping on the food. It was a passable truce over the territory, so John figured out how to pour himself soup one-handed, under Ryli’s intent supervision. Rodney showed up at his shoulder.

“Ronon wants to know if you remember him yet,” he said, wincing but asking the question anyway.

John tilted stiffly to look up at him. He remembered Ford, and not the version Rodney said had been attacked by a Wraith. John wasn’t fully on board with the idea that a member of his team was just out fighting all of Pegasus on his own, but he kept that to himself because it wasn’t like he was breaking down the door to go find the kid any time soon. They were all out in Pegasus on their own and John would have to worry about Ford later, when he could remember why Rodney had told him not to.

The new guy was probably fine. Teyla didn’t exactly hang out with losers, and she had married this Ronon guy, and John was fairly certain he wouldn’t have let somebody else start assigning members of his own team, so he probably liked him. But he had no clue at all what Ronon even looked like. If he had somehow resurrected Dex from the Old Days then John was officially giving up on ever making sense of where he had woken up, though.

“Would it be rude to say I haven’t met him yet?” he asked. Rodney hesitated, mouth open to say something, but he seemed to be listening to the radio. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“He says no, I say yes, but nobody asked me my opinion on sending them to the ‘gate, either,” Rodney reported. So that was apparently going to be a regular complaint for approximately forever.

John returned his attention to the mug of lukewarm soup and suspiciously took a sip. He wasn’t expecting it but was happily surprised when Rodney hung over his shoulder just long enough to buss a kiss to an unbruised side of his forehead before heading back over to the window to grill the team about what the DHD looked like and whether or not it could be protected from rain.

John stared out the window at the big fluffy clouds he was used to seeing over oceans, massive clouds high up in the air and no threat of rain at all over the water, or on the windows outside his room. The thunderheads were darker than John was used to, though, which maybe meant they held enough moisture to carry rain somewhere inland, if the planet's weather worked at all like what he was used to. And since John didn’t know where the other two members of his team were, it was fully possible those clouds stretched out far enough to dump rain on them.

In the meantime, John was allowed to be quiet, and he was used to Rodney’s ups and downs when he was working, so he mostly tuned him out. John tried to sell Ryli on one of the veggie-looking things from the tray in the middle of the table. It looked kind of like a carrot, and she reached out both arms to grab it up in her little paw-hand with the chubby short fingers. There was a thorough sniffing before she chomped on it and then sat back down in the chair. John figured that passed so he tried the next one himself and got chattered at in a series of clacks and chirps. He bought her off with another veggie stick to be quiet and stuck to drinking his soup rather than be lectured at by a baby dragon for eating a purple carrot.

John more or less zoned out in his chair for a little while until Rodney showed up at the table again.

“They’re going to try to send pictures when the rain stops. I think the Jumper can relay the data, but I have to go set it up. Need to charge the laptop again anyway,” he said. He seemed excited about it but it faded when the genius put together that going to the Jumper meant going somewhere else. John looked up at him and scrunched his nose.

“I’ll stay here. It’ll keep the quack happy,” he said, mentioning nothing of the state of his own head in that regard. Looking out the window, he could tell he was a few floors up off the ground, and stairs were out of the question, barring life-threatening necessity. If the Wraith showed up, John would think about chancing the stairs, but he would find something to use as a sled before he tried walking down them.

“Okay. Well. Good then. I’ll… be back as soon as I can,” said Rodney. John sat back in his chair to look up at him, the slightest nod of approval offered successfully, with no spike of pain shooting up his spine and off behind his ear for it. It was the very definition of baby-steps but he was determined to at least be able to move again someday, even if he never did remember what was missing. Rodney stared back at him rather than go anywhere.

“You’re okay?” he asked, still uncertain. John managed another small nod.

“‘m fine,” he said. Functional was barely an applicable term, fine was nowhere near an acceptable definition, and Elizabeth Weir would have browbeat him to death for it. But Rodney was Rodney, an easy sell when he was anxious, so John caught him by the funny lapel of the clothes they had been given by the Cairnythians and tugged as a hint. Rodney seemed to be on the same page and leaned in for a kiss. A real one, like the one that John kind-of remembered being surprised by when he first woke up.

It was still new, not at all familiar, and Rodney was being careful of bruises and scrapes on John’s general person that he didn’t care about so much until he accidentally hit something. And he tangled his hand in Rodney’s jacket until he was good and ready to let up. Rodney still leaned in at his shoulder for a moment when they broke for air and John met the blue eyes from still up close.

“What was that for?” Rodney asked. He sounded a little more uncertain about leaving for the Jumper than he had a minute before. John tried not to smile about it.

“I wanted to,” he replied. Rodney’s eyebrows arched up his forehead.

“That’s… that’s how we’re doing this?” he asked. John managed another pain-free nod.

“Yep. It gets my vote.”

He didn’t complain when it got him kissed again, even had a chance to relax finally at the whole idea of it. If they were married, the rules at home were fixed so John could just enjoy it. And even if they couldn’t get the ‘gate fixed, couldn’t get home immediately, if at all, at least the folks who had put them up didn’t seem to have the same hangups as John’s old bosses.

He could let himself get used to it easily, even if he didn’t remember how any of it had been brought about. He remembered well enough putting his fate and his faith in Rodney McKay’s hands too many times to doubt the stories he had heard so far, especially when Rodney hadn’t been the only one telling them. If a bunch of aliens were going to tell him he had gone and gotten married, it was John’s own fault he couldn’t remember that.

Rodney left for the Jumper finally and John sat to finish his soup. Ryli disappeared a few times, zooming around the room across rugs and slippery stone tiles, so he could hear her even if he couldn’t see her. Eventually he grabbed a handful of the veggie sticks and her bug treats and went to occupy himself and her by trying to teach her stuff. He felt bad because all he could remember was how to train a dog, and Ryli wasn’t a dog obviously, but he figured the basics had to translate.

They were left on their own long enough that it started to get dark, and John didn’t know where the light switches were in a freaking castle, so he instead retreated to the bed and gave in to the buzzing, throbbing pain that had built back up in his brain. Ryli curled up just off the edge of his pillow and flopped her wing over his face. He had seen her do the same to Rodney so John let her keep her habits. He was more interested in sleep anyway.

At some point the doctor showed up to wake him up and wave the light-stick around his head again but John didn’t have to be awake for that so he just pinned Ryli under the blanket to keep her from hissing at the doc and didn’t remember being conscious very long.

When Rodney showed up, John woke up again, long enough for the report on news from the stargate. Teyla said the consensus was that the stargate could be rigged up and set back into the platform, that it hadn’t been damaged when the platform cracked from the earthquake. The engineers could repair the foundations. The complication would be the DHD, which could be housed somewhere dry until Rodney could get up there.

So all in all, things were looking up. John was still tired but the pain had cut back with sleep, so Rodney told him to go back to bed. So that’s what John did. Ryli ran around with Rodney and let John pass out in his own space that time. Eventually they both showed up again, stealing blankets and rearranging pillows, but John didn’t remember waking up when they did. He just woke up with a dragon wing over his head and he had apparently claimed Rodney’s hand in his sleep again.

The doctor was happier with the scan results when John spent more time asleep than wandering around, and John was exhausted enough to sleep more than he personally felt was natural, but he still tried to stay awake when Rodney was chatty. He got more stories out of the man that way, with Rodney narrating random bits of the chaos that John couldn’t remember of their lives. It seemed like it had been one thing after another, for months, no time to recover in between, and John could understand why Rodney wanted to delete the hard drive on some of it.

There weren’t enough stories about how they went from months of John keeping his mouth shut and coping, to somehow married to the guy he had been stuck on the whole time, though. Instead, he got kisses and leaned in for hugs and got to hang on to Rodney’s hands instead of just watching them.

The upshot of sleeping so much in between Rodney's stories was that, more and more, John woke up having remembered dreaming. Some of them were straight up nightmares more than dreams, but the important part was that his brain was working again, and he could feel it.

Some of the dreams had been vivid and felt real, like maybe they were memories. The Wraith showed up in more than their fair share, but John remembered standing on a balcony on Atlantis with Rodney, too. The sky had been lit up over them in unnatural fireworks, rippling like water across the shield that protected the city. They probably weren't fireworks, because Rodney had told him about the siege against Atlantis that had left them cleaning the halls of Wraith-guts for weeks.

It could have been memories, or it could have just been an achy brain trying to process the little bit of the world it interacted with. John kept them to himself, though, not wanting to get Rodney's hopes up. His stories still were just stories, otherwise, and John didn't have anything more than a jumble of colors and emotions in his head when he listened, so nothing made sense in there.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed with the two of them stuck in the Regent’s room, because unlike Rodney, John wasn’t awake for a lot of it. If he could track it all using the sunlight and darkness out the windows of the big room, he figured it was at least three days before he could stay awake for more than an hour at a time.

He finally managed a whole four hours in one go and the doctor celebrated by waking him up with more scans. The report from the quack was that the inflammation had calmed down and consistently stayed that way. The exhaustion left over was likely the busted ribs, broken arm, and generalized trauma recovery.

But the doctor still didn’t want him tackling three flights of stairs, and their hosts’ rules still didn’t leave room for John to wander around outside of the bedroom he had been loaned for recovery. Nova’s secretary, Phalen, was polite about that, but very firm. It wasn’t done, it would raise questions and concerns that the household could not risk without the Regent there to settle them, and there was no sense disturbing the natural order of the locals’ daily lives more than they already had.

John had been granted the Royal household's personal doctor for days, dedicated and on-site, despite the fact that John wasn't family, and their status as ambassadors was only theoretical, so it was better that he not be seen. Rodney was free to come and go, the Puddlejumper made a perfectly valid hall-pass for him. But Rodney could walk in a straight line predictably, too. He wouldn't stand out in a city full of people, unlike the man with bruises on his face and his arm in a cast.

They had to respect their limitations. Rodney complained, but John just tried to roll with it and not get bored. He didn't have to get shots for medicine anymore, and Rodney brought the First Aid kit's medicines from the Jumper, so John could deal.

The regular updates from Teyla and her partner about the stargate kept Rodney busy for a few hours every day. He went down to the Jumper to set up the data relay between his computer and the ship, and processed whatever information he could receive from their tablets. Either that or he just hid in the Jumper to get away from John and the Quack and the Rules John was determined to play by. After so long stuck in the same room, however big the room may have been, John wouldn't have been offended if his friend really was just hiding.

One of Rodney's trips down to the Jumper happened to coincide with one of Nova's secretary's visits to John to be sure he had everything he needed for a comfortable stay. And he mostly did, aside from a clean bill of health and an elevator to let him leave the room entirely. But he also had a head full of static and certain things that kept jumping out at him, demanding to be explained and corrected. And a lot of that had to do with Rodney and no one else.

"Hey, can I ask a favor, actually?" John asked. The young man nodded, friendly and cheerful and the exact opposite of his boss' personality, from John's few visits with them.

"Of course. How can I help?" Phalen asked. John hemmed and hawed and debated with himself before finally making himself follow through.

"See, this is gonna sound stupid-" he began, then he changed tracks entirely. "You guys have, like, markets here, right? Where you sell stuff? Pretty, artsy things, not just food and the like?"

"Of course. The city has a permanent market, open to many tribes, as well as the Artisans Hall," the secretary replied.

That sounded like the right track. John nodded. "Right. Great. Look, I want to find a nice ring, and I can't exactly go check them out myself… I don't know what you would want for payment, but I've got this I could trade if someone were willing to work with me on it," he said, holding up the watch on his wrist in explanation.

And somehow it worked. The guy knew exactly who to talk to, and promptly disappeared. A half hour later, he was setting out two shallow drawer trays full of jewelry on the table for John to sort through. It was too damn easy, like magic, and John sat at the table protecting the shiny bits of metal and stone from the cat-sized dragon who had little grabby fingers that ended in talons.

He ended up with the snoopy Ryli stuck in his lap to keep her out of trouble, and two black-metal rings with colorful, multidimensional blue stone-inlay all the way around the bands. They were each different because of the layered stone with the individual colored deposits and veins throughout, one was a little more green in some spots, but they looked like they went together anyway. John traded his watch, as promised, and found a safe place to stash the two rings that Ryli wouldn't get into and he hoped he wouldn’t forget.

There was no sign of the horse-trading by the time Rodney returned from the Jumper. Rodney was in a foul mood though, as Teyla's tablet had finally run out of power. That meant no more pictures from the site to let him help via long-distance. He said it was all relying on Teyla and Ronon's ability to describe the scene, which left a lot to be desired, for Rodney to be able to guide them through any kind of work on the DHD unit. Rodney thought about things in very clear pictures and words, which not many other people could match, John had noticed.

He was in no mood to remember stories afterward, either, so John distracted him with Ryli instead. They figured out how to teach a dragon to play fetch when John accidentally knocked a stone bauble off a shelf and it went rolling across the rug, thankfully without breaking anything as it thudded around, and Ryli chased after it. She couldn’t sink her teeth into it and brought it back to them, probably for help, and John just rolled it back away.

“Because you were a pain in the ass about it before, I’m morally obliged to remind you that Coppi are not dogs,” Rodney said, sounding annoyed as he dropped carefully down onto the floor beside John in front of the couch. John scrunched his nose at him.

“Does it count when I don’t remember being a pain in the ass about it?”

“Yes, because she’s still not a dog. They’ll get as big as an elephant and we have no room for them in Atlantis but we’re going to make it work anyway,” said Rodney. “And just… hope they stay small and don’t set anything on fire.”

“Wait, elephants?” John asked, tripping over trying to process Rodney’s huffy correction. “Fire?”

“These guys use the Coppi as weapons, really. They fly. That’s… basically the only reason any of this happened is because these animals are important to their people, otherwise we wouldn’t have met the whole Omen thing, and we would have been kicked back through the ‘gate and Ryli would have been given over to a butcher for chicken meat,” said Rodney.

John was no longer certain Rodney was speaking English or any translatable language he understood. “Buddy. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Help me out here.”

"What?" asked Rodney. It was his turn to be concerned.

"What the hell is an Omen and why was Ryli going to a butcher?"

"I told you-" but the words died on Rodney's lips and he slowly straightened up. "No. I hadn't."

"I hope not, because I was getting better at this remembering stuff thing," replied John. His friend turned his attention back to Ryli when she brought him the smooth round rock to throw. He took the decorative stone that had been turned into a ball toy and danced it around her head to snap at his hand rather than send her away after it.

"The Cairnythians have an expectation for trade between tribes," said Rodney, looking sour. "They traditionally marry people off between new allies to strengthen the community or something. If we hadn't already been partners, their expectation was for our team to marry a couple of locals. One of us would have stayed here, as an Omen, to guarantee a good relationship with Atlantis, going forward. And they would have sent somebody back with us, of course. Goes both ways, sort of thing."

“Well, that’s not how our people do things,” said John, surprised and uncomfortable with the report. Rodney waved vaguely toward their surroundings.

“We do everything differently than this. And anyway, it wasn’t an option, as the Omen tradition can’t break existing partnerships to do it. So they gave us Coppi to care for as representatives to do the job, and you and I already imprinted on this one,” said Rodney. He let Ryli catch his hand with both of hers to steal the stone bauble and she pried it out of his hand with her snout. Then she took it just out of their reach and sat over her paws at the end of John’s socked feet to gnaw on the rock ball without their interference. “And they gave Ronon and Teyla an egg that they said wouldn’t turn out damaged like her. They don’t think she’ll get very big, don’t think she’ll fly. So she wasn’t good enough, on her own, and we got two.”

There was something familiar in the account. His brow furrowed and John lifted his hand to his head to ward off the pressure that came from his digging around in blank places that used to hold memories. “Yeah, Wit. Little thing.”

“Yeah. So the Cairnyth Omen is obliged, until we can hold up our end.” It seemed to settle in then just what John had said. Rodney went wide eyed. “Wait. You remember?”

“No,” said John, annoyed but being honest. “He’s red.”

Rodney stared at him. “How the hell do you remember Wit but you don't remember Ronon?”

“I don’t know,” said John. He felt like he couldn’t fully catch his breath, chasing after shadows of what he knew and what he didn’t and couldn’t reach. “It’s just… that’s there. I think. Did I join a commune?”

Rodney blinked at him. “No? Wait. Yes. Technically.”

“I what?”

“You got stuck in a time dilation field for a few hours and it was entire months for you,” Rodney replied, a rushed explanation if John had ever heard one. “You had a beard and everything when we found you. And your girlfriend Ascended.”

“My what?”

“How would I know, I wasn’t there. That’s just what you told me,” replied Rodney.

John’s head started to hurt in earnest then, but thankfully it wasn’t the same kind of pain as it had been the past few days. It was stress, and frustration, and a fair bit of anger at himself over something he had no control of that kept screwing with his sense of balance. He didn’t remember a girlfriend. He remembered a leather bag, leather clothes and even boots, and Wit. And something big and dark. Things he was afraid of for some reason, but he couldn’t sort it all out.

He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to remember more or not, but he wanted to stop trying to chase the memories, he knew that. John wanted an easy answer, not the thinking in circles looking for something that wasn’t there and maybe chasing it further out. Maybe deleting the hard drive wasn’t the answer, but turning the damn mental computer off for a while wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t know how to do that, though, when even sleep dragged up more of the same familiar things that didn’t make sense. He leaned his shoulder to Rodney’s, someone to anchor on. McKay at least made sense, he hadn’t changed much.

“Maybe - hey, it’s dinner time. Maybe that will help,” Rodney said, because the man wasn’t good with the quiet. Despite himself, John let out a laugh. Whatever John had lost, Rodney hadn’t changed much.

Chapter Text

The random flashes of familiar ideas and impressions and half-thoughts were still few and far between, but looking for them continued to be exhausting. John had to convince himself he was in the infirmary and listen to the advice to sleep and recover as much as possible. From what he did remember of life in Atlantis, he was probably sleep deprived to start with.

It wasn't like he regularly fell fifty feet along a landslide, either, so he had to adjust to the part where everything hurt even though not everything was broken or scraped up or the same bright colored bruises as his chest... and arms... and legs. That didn't leave a lot, but there was still unmarked territory, damn it, and he was tired of all of it hurting.

There wasn't much to do, as they didn't read any of the languages in the books scattered around the room, and Rodney had stashed the tablets and laptop in the Jumper for when he had to set up the network to the rest of their team. Things had to charge and be ready, just in case a miracle happened and Teyla's tablet found a charge, or Phalen and the doctor let John leave on a day trip.

Phalen had brought games for them, and there was something that was close enough to the game of Go that John and Rodney turned it into the game they knew without too much trouble. The bigger problem was that the game lasted longer than the First Aid Kit Tylenol and John would have to take breaks in the middle of them to stand up and walk off the aches in his muscles.

"We need to get you home," Rodney said, watching John pace at the windows and cautiously touch along the walls for balance when it got sketchy. "Carson would have this fixed by now. Medicines and physical therapy-"

"He's not a miracle worker. As you like to remind me, sometimes gravity just kicks your ass with a ton of rock and dirt," John muttered back at him. He happened to be feeling the whole ton of it just then on his spine but there was nothing he could do other than try to stretch it out. "I've done PT before. I know what they're going to tell me."

"Well, what's that?" Rodney asked. Ryli pounced up from the floor to the table with the game on it and he caught her up before she could knock anything over. She seemed settled with that outcome and squirmed until he let her climb to his shoulder. There, she perched on one side and wrapped around behind his neck to the other, just to stretch her neck and rest her chin on the side of Rodney's head. He hunched forward enough to keep her balanced, without seeming to notice.

"They'll tell me not to do anything yet," John said. "Like this doc says."

Rodney mumbled something John didn't quite understand but it was probably derogatory. He didn't like the doctor for his usual paranoid reasons, the same gruff he gave Carson even though they were friends, but turned up to eleven. Still, Rodney seemed to get distracted as John reached to hang on to the wall because he turned around too fast.

“Hey… Where’d your watch go?” Rodney asked, sounding concerned. John looked at his bare wrist before remembering why he knew the answer to that.

“Oh. Yeah..." He adjusted course away from the windows for a moment and headed for the bookshelf. There, he found the two rings right where he had left them, well out of Ryli's easy reach and tucked beside a weird-looking decorative bowl, easily overlooked by anyone who didn't know to try finding them. He walked them back to McKay and presented them in the open palm of his hand as a hint to take one.

“What are these?” Rodney asked, just staring at John's hand like he was confused by the very concept of rings. John shrugged, nervous and fidgeting with the two bands. He played with them in his hand until he could get Rodney to actually look at them enough to take them from him.

“You said we never got around to it," he explained. "So I got around to it.”

“When? How?” Rodney had stood up, held both rings cupped in his palm then, but didn't seem to be picking one. John hesitated.

“You were at the Jumper. I asked Phalen. He knows a guy. I mean, if you don’t like them, there were more…”

The light bulb seemed to click on in the genius brain behind the blue eyes and Rodney poked at the rings, prodding them away from each other, picking one up and tapping at the clear finish that protected the stone inlay.

“No, I like them- I think this is from the shells from Coppi eggs," he said. He angled the band so that the colors in the stone flashed as he showed John which part he referred to. "I mean, it looked like this. That's why you brought me the egg at all, because the rock looked like this. You thought I would like it.”

That sounded promising and John smiled. He liked the design, whatever it was, so if he had picked it out no less than twice, just for Rodney, he figured he had to be headed in the right direction with it. “So… I picked right?”

“Jeezus, yeah, you picked right, John. I can’t-” Rodney still looked a little pale and very surprised. Almost upset.

“What?” John didn't actually recognize the look on his friend's face then because, from everything he had said and even done over the past week, he hadn't expected the rings would make Rodney any kind of sad. He had worried maybe the guy would be annoyed that they had been found on the sly, but that was why there were two. "See, this way you pick the one you want. They're not the same…'

Rodney nodded and closed them both up in his palm, not picking either of them. Instead, he caught John at the hip and stepped in to kiss him. He wasn't used to those yet and John smiled, off guard for it.

Ryli had an entirely different opinion and hissed at John for invading her territory without her invitation. He had been hissed at by the dragon enough over the past few days that he just ignored it, though it was still funny. And Rodney didn't move away when he broke the kiss, instead leaned his forehead to John's and stayed close. This wasn't the formality of Teyla's Athosian greetings, it was snug and relaxed and… intimate. Sharing space and air and body heat.

Something John hadn't done in years with anyone and now had back with his ornery best friend. The guy who was never still stood calm and leaned in and that felt like, just then, everything. It was something John remembered wanting. And now… he had it.

That, and a baby dragon angrily chomping on the ends of his hair because it was too spiky in her general direction.

He was smiling about it all when Rodney drew his hands back, just to open one and stare down at the rings between them. John watched from right there with him as he picked one of the two for himself and slipped it on his finger. It was his right hand, but John wasn't going to get fussy about details Rodney probably didn't care about to remember. It was funny because Rodney caught John by the wrist - the one he had earlier noticed no longer wore a watch - and pulled John's left hand up to put the ring on him in the right spot. Nancy would be proud of him for it, John was just amused.

And John was a little bit proud of himself, because he liked the look of the band on the hands that always seemed to catch his attention so easily. They went back to their game at the table and John noticed every time Rodney moved a piece, or every time he turned the ring or played with it or moved it from one finger to another or it switched hands entirely. It was in his hands at random, not just worn, until he settled down again and it ended up on his index finger on his left hand, so close to being the right place for a wedding band.

A half an hour later they were arguing about Spiderman because Ryli had jumped into the middle of the game board and scattered all the stones before spinning out and jumping on a tapestry on the wall. She didn't damage anything, but she was clearly in need of actual attention before destruction became inevitable. She had been inside too long and her box of dirt and grass and moss along the window was no longer sufficient interaction with nature to keep her civilized. Either that or they were in for trouble as she got older. So Rodney took her outside and John… took a nap.

The next day, though, John asked if he could be cleared to chance the stairs and go outside, too. He had been down for a week, that he could remember, and he needed fresh air. And he wanted to see what the bigger Coppi critters looked like, because Rodney said Ryli wasn't even two weeks old and had stopped growing after starting out tiny, like John remembered Wit to be. He hadn't seen Teyla at all since waking up, though he had talked to her on Rodney's radio once the headaches eased back. He knew his friend hadn't made her up, she really was there with them, even though she was apparently in another city. But he was getting restless because his team was scattered.

After more scans and a cautious lecture about the importance of not losing his balance and falling again or at all injuring his head, John was allowed to leave the Regent's hall. He wasn't sure who was more enthusiastic about the idea, himself or Rodney. The man hovered around him and kept latching on to make sure John didn't lose his balance, when even just holding his hand played with John's balance on the stairs.

"How far away are the other Coppi?" he asked, because it had taken entirely too long to get to the ground floor on the smooth stone and stairs. He felt old and annoyed at himself.

"Far. And they would kill you right now," said Rodney. "We're going to the Jumper."

He sounded very certain about that so John went with it. He could move better on flat ground and the overcast sunshine sunk into sore muscles through his coat. Ryli jumped down from Rodney's shoulder and ran across the grass in the courtyard chasing after some birds. She didn't catch any, and her little wings flapped at the air when she lunged but they didn't give her any lift.

"She's really supposed to fly?" John asked. "Those aren't just… like penguin wings or something?"

"Yeah, Coppi fly. She was just in the rock too long, so she won't," Rodney said. "That's what we're for."

Ryli chased her two humans to the Jumper and ran up the ramp ahead of them. She launched herself up and caught the storage netting overhead, climbed into the gear and disappeared. John glanced around as the ship lit up around him. He definitely remembered the Jumper and it seemed to still remember him. But then again, he had only been gone a week, even though he still had chunks of missing time that spanned months. Behind them, the ramp door closed them in.

At the front of the little ship, John leaned over the center console to look out at the view of the massive city walls. The screen came to life and told him everything in the computer about the Jumper's current location.

“Oh, man. I missed this," he said, smiling at the information.

“You’re going to hate me," said Rodney, still lurking at the bulkhead. He sounded anxious but John was in the Jumper and felt immune to that because he could fly away anywhere.

“Non sequitur, thy name is McKay," he said, hardly glancing back at him. Rodney approached then and tugged his elbow, pointed back at the chair behind him.

“I need you to sit down and shut up and listen," McKay said, sounding very McKay. John blinked at him and obliged, because he hadn't heard that brand of anxiety from Rodney in days of being stuck together. He sat like he was told and turned the chair to face him.

“Okay. I'm sitting.”

Rodney paced a few steps back and forth, then stopped to try to face him, failed, and paced another few steps. He couldn't seem to look at John and was moving around in the small space so he didn't have to.

“We’re not married, John. It’s not figured out. Elizabeth didn’t do anything," he finally said, rushed but clearly understandable. It was still enough to confuse the hell out of John. "Remember what I said about the Omen? Ronon told them he and Teyla were partners and not eligible for the Omen and that left us and we backed him up and you had to tell me what to do here. When in Rome, you said. I thought there was some kind of trick to the whole being married thing and there wasn’t. It was just us. Just being us. And we were good. But you don’t remember any of it and I couldn’t tell you.”

When the very comprehensive ramble fell quiet, John stared up at Rodney, not quite processing any of it. He understood the words, but none of what he described was familiar. It went rather directly against the way John had felt over the last few days. Maybe his memory was shit, but he had been fairly comfortable with the present tense. Now everything was sideways even though John had his balance back.

“What the hell do you mean, you couldn't tell me? All week-”

Rodney snuck into the chair across from him and leaned elbows on his knees, leaned in like proximity would make him make sense instead of more likely to get decked. But Rodney was explaining finally so John was trying to listen past the anger of it.

“The whole place is bugged in there. These guys have computers in the walls. I can show you the power signatures on the tablet. It’s a freaking castle and they have computers in the walls," Rodney said. Which was something John had seen enough to believe was true. They had scanners that were highly portable and effective, that Carson's team would probably willingly kill for as a noble sacrifice, and John had never seen a tablet or any kind of device to help the doctor read them. He always had to leave the room for results and would come back with them a half hour or more later.

There were computers somewhere, but John had never seen them. And now the guy who had been playing house with him for a week was telling him the computers were in the walls. John narrowed his eyes, looking for something that felt familiar about Rodney, so he could try to remember how to tell when his friend lied.

"Look, we blow everything up for all of us if we disrespect this Omen thing. Especially if we don't have a 'gate," Rodney went on. "Wes believed Ronon and Teyla but he didn't believe us. His people were calling bullshit and he had this whole meeting with us about it… I couldn't just say something where they were going to hear us."

It almost made sense, but it still hurt. There were layers upon layers of things that hurt. But hurting to protect the team made sense. There were three of them and one of John, and John was the liability when he couldn't remember he game plan. He had screwed things up for every one of them and couldn't even remember doing it. He was just stuck with the aftermath, the same as they were.

And maybe the Rodney he knew was a shitty liar, but the guy could get pretty mercenary about defending himself and his people. The guy just kept pretending, and apparently John was the idiot who had told him how to do it.

John leaned back into the support of the chair, hugging his broken arm a little close to his chest for the extra distance away from Rodney. He made Rodney sit in silence on it for entire minutes as he sorted through the new information and tried desperately to match any of it up with memories or thoughts at all about the way things had gone down before the landslide screwed him up. Finally he looked back up at McKay.

"So… we're not married. We just have to make them think we are." That was almost funny, in a way. John thought he'd had Rodney figured out, thought he had a solid handle on his friend's tells and knew when the man lied, but… somehow everything he had woken up to was a lie. And that somehow made more sense than what he had believed from the start. Rodney shrugged, nodded his head, but he was still looking kicked down over everything as he sat slouched forward in the chair.

"I mean. We're partners anyway. We didn't have to change much to get them off our backs about it," he said, waving vaguely toward the Regent's building across the courtyard.

John frowned a little at that, feeling the hurt tug a little sharper. "Really?"

"Well, you told me to kiss you here. That… that was the only thing we… brought in, really. More touching. Less personal space."

"But not married."

"Not really."

John just kept coming back around to that and it stuck and it hurt. He thought he had it making sense, thought he could justify it and get over it, but that part was still a fresh bruise that kept lighting the hurt back up, the anger. "And you couldn't have told me this- days ago…"

Rodney shook his head. "If I said one word about anything, that quack showed up. They were listening. They knew when Wit hatched and we didn't have to tell them. They mentioned some of my readings on my tablet before I’d explained any of it, like they can read English better than Ronon can read Cairnyth. Maybe we're guests but we're still under surveillance, John. They don't trust us any more than I trust them."

"I trusted them," John pointed out. That was messing with his head, too. They put all those rules on him and he trusted it was like they said, trusted Rodney would have told him they weren't looking out for their patient and guest. He had tried to play by the rules.

"I saw that. I tried. But I couldn't," Rodney said. He somehow looked more unsettled and shuffled a little in his chair. John glared at him and waved toward the bag of tech sitting in the chair behind him.

"You had a damn tablet, Rodney!" he said, annoyance coloring his tone. "Maybe I can't remember shit, but I remember how to read! Just encrypt the program and keep them out."

Wide-eyed and pale, Rodney seemed very close to forgetting how to breathe. "Shit. With everything else, I didn't think about-"

John scoffed at that. "Yeah, I figured that out now."

“Look, I don’t know what they can get into. It could be everything, or nothing,” Rodney said. John just nodded. He didn’t know how much was the paranoia of a guy who used to work for Area 51 and how much was a real threat, and he didn’t have the memory storage drive to help him clear it up. The Jumper went quiet again and John mentally retreated, licking wounds and slouched in a corner of the chair, staring out the window at the big stone walls and buildings that made up the city.

"I'm sorry," Rodney offered after another few minutes of quiet.

"It's fine." And it was. It had to be. They had to get their whole team through the mess they had wandered into and John wasn't going to toss a grenade on the whole team just because he had been caught out telling the truth for a week. He would figure out how to cover it up later, bury the problem like he had done from the start. It had to be possible, it would just take him some time to sort it out. And he didn't have to do that yet. He still had to be married to his best friend if anybody asked and they had to make sure everyone believed it. It was fine.

"How is this fine?" Rodney asked, because, of course, now the guy was a paragon of logic and truth.

"I said it is," John shot back.

“That doesn’t make it true.”

John rolled his eyes at the simple logic. “Really not a good time to try to take the high road on what’s true or not, McKay.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

John was still angry, but the genuine apology, with all the fear and paranoia right there on his friend's face and in his voice made him step it back. He was angry but it wasn't all Rodney's fault. He would have done the same damn thing, and he knew he would do it again if they had to, even now after it had bit him in the ass. John scowled at the console for a minute before he shook his head and tried to shove the whole fucked up situation away from both of them.

“You didn’t do anything to be sorry about," he said, trying to be firm but just feeling tired. He waved out the window again. "We were taking care of the team. I just… lost the script in the middle of it. That’s not your fault.”

“Okay," said Rodney.

“Okay," John agreed. Rodney didn't seem sold on it yet.

“We’re good?” he asked.

Pulling his face into something as neutral and unbothered as possible, John shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Rodney waved a hand between them, his usual level of awkwardness. “What about… I mean, we still have to be…”

It almost hurt that John knew what he was getting at. And he had to sit there and make it be fine. He nodded. “We are. We’re fine. Married. Lifepartners. Whatever they want to call it. Here. Nothing’s… nothing’s gotta change here. We’re good.”

That was the loophole that hurt, John realized. It was only there, only around these aliens with their weird rules and priority on traditions that flew in the face of technology that made them an asset to the city. If Rodney hadn't been stuck babysitting John, he would have been prying at the brains of the Cairnyth scientists and engineers, learning how to build computers into the walls and medical scanners so he could go home to Atlantis and figure out how to make them at home. Home, where the rules were still different.

The whole sharing-space, holding hands, kissing… that was all just the tool to make sure they were welcomed and not hung as liars disrespectful of important traditional beliefs among an alien culture. Because liars were really what they were, anyway. All of them, dodging somebody's traditions with a cover story and all the lies that followed it around.

They could dress it up however they wanted to, but a cover story wouldn't follow John home. He was back to sleeping alone when he got back to Atlantis. Ryli would have to settle for one preferred human to throw her wing over instead of both of them. John didn't get to wake up shoulder to shoulder with Rodney and hanging onto his hand. That… was what he was going to lose when they went home. But he still had it now.

“Even though I forgot the notepad on the tablet can be encrypted?” Rodney asked. John glanced over at him.

“When’s the last time you actually wrote one of those damn reports Lizabeth wants us writing anyway?”

“Well… we have to write them for the SGC now, so… a month ago.”

That hadn't been the answer John was expecting and he mentally stumbled. Rodney hated the "administrative minutiae" of reports for Elizabeth. But the rules at home had changed so much from what John remembered that they had to follow them for the people who signed their paychecks, so it got done. It felt just as bizarre as anything else and John didn't want to go back to being the Lieutenant Colonel on the SGC's leash when he could have been pretty damn happy as the Major in love with McKay.

Still, John had to shrug it off. “See. It’s fine. You forgot that computers have word processors and you told me in the bug-free Jumper.”

Rodney stared back at him, unamused. “That strangely did not make me feel any better.”

“I’m trying to give you an out, here, man. Take it," said John.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

That time the quiet stuck and Rodney didn't seem compulsively required to fill it. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, not saying anything to argue or throw static. The only noise in the Jumper was Ryli scooting around in the storage netting. Eventually the inevitable happened and she shoved one of the flare kits out of the netting and down onto the bench and then the floor. She started hissing and clacking at the offensive box, squirreling around in and out of the net to chastise the box that had scared her.

It effectively broke the pensive silence in the Jumper and John and Rodney had both turned their chairs to look back at her and make sure none of them were about to blow up for it. Ryli hung upside down from the net at the back and chattered at them accusingly. Then she flapped her wings and climbed up into the netting again to find more things to try to throw out. Neither of her humans felt like cleaning up after her. But John found himself staring at Rodney again as the man looked back at the brewing damage.

"I want to see the other Coppi," John said, as much of a finalized announcement as he could make it. Rodney was already shaking his head, though, so it didn't work.

"No way. The last time you saw one of the big guys, it knocked you on your ass. No way are you getting near them," he said.

"Fine, I don't have to get near them to see what I'm dealing with," returned John. He stood up to drive his point home. "I apparently put the whole damn team at risk to keep one of these things, so we're keeping her, so I need to know what else I screwed up, McKay. We're talking dragons on Atlantis. I need to know what that looks like. No more damn surprises."

Rodney looked up at him, still in full disagreement, but strangely unwilling to argue about it. But he wasn't above adding more rules. "They're not horses. You can't ride them. And no petting."

"Fine. Not a petting zoo, got it," John replied, rolling his eyes. "Let's go."

And Rodney stood and reluctantly moved to go coax Ryli out of the storage net. John followed, even got the ramp down, but he hung back to keep some distance. The baby Coppi perched across Rodney's shoulders and watched John, chattering at him contentedly as she clawed into Rodney's jacket for balance. She had a lot to say about things, which kept Rodney quiet and gave John something to focus on that wasn't their screwed-up past week.

Rodney got them through a few hallways before he stopped a stranger to ask where the training yard was. He said it was just to confirm what he remembered, but he probably just didn't want to get lost and end up outside the city in a landslide. John scowled at the wall rather than say anything about it.

A few minutes later they walked out to an observation area one floor above a sand and dirt-lined courtyard. There were walkways at every level around this yard, and along the exterior wall there were stairs and catwalks creating levels every five feet for the first thirty going up the lower portion of the wall. Double doors big enough to fly a Jumper through led back into the city somewhere.

And wandering around in the middle of the courtyard were dinosaurs. Winged, dragon-looking, Coppi dinosaurs. They looked like grown up versions of Ryli, their bodies more streamlined and so much taller, with some necks like giraffes stretching out and others shorter and their bodies more squat. They were all of them colored like gemstones and rocks, some the blue green with black lines like Ryli, others the oranges and reds like Wit, some yellow and brown and white… all bright and loud, even in the overcast light outside.

Not a single one of them could walk the halls in Atlantis safely.

"Holy shit," John said, barely getting a full breath as he stared out at them. "I fucked up."

Rodney set a hand to his back rather instinctively and started shaking his head. "No, it's fine. They adjust to their environment. They stay small when raised in small spaces. Ryli's the size of the Coppi who are about a year old because she was probably stuck in the egg for about that long. That's why her wing isn't grown properly."

The tiny dragon in question seemed to realize she was looking at her adult cousins and started chirping excitedly, sat up on Rodney's shoulder and then pounced over to John's. Back and forth she went until Rodney pulled her down. She kept up the noise, though, and caught the attention of one of the bigger Coppi.

The animal came to investigate and stood up on hind legs to more easily see up on the balcony. It had a different shaped head than Ryli did, but was the same color splay across the scaley leather hide. There was a white mane down its neck and back, where Ryli's was black. And the head was as big as John's chest, which, funny enough, happened to have a bruise about that size across the front, along with all the others.

He suddenly had a clearer picture of what Rodney meant when he kept saying John had been knocked on his ass by the big Coppi. Staring back at the bright green eyes, he very vividly remembered it. He remembered the coppery-smelling breath and everything. And he remembered someone helped him up afterwards, so the big guys had their own trainers.

Broken arm notwithstanding, John leaned into the stone wall that served as a balcony edge and inserted himself between Rodney and the Coppi. Ryli scampered up to his shoulder and stuck her tiny nose out to sniff at the adult. John found himself face to snout, with teeth roughly three inches sharp sticking out over the chin, like Ryli's did, only much bigger than hers. The big gem-colored eyes were much more proportionate to the rest of the head than Ryli’s, but the thing didn’t seem to have quite grown into them or the floppy ears somehow still.

It snuffed at John’s chest again and Ryli hissed like she took offense, set her grabby paws on the bigger beast’s nose to shove it away. John caught her around the ribs and backed off carefully, not wanting to provoke the big mouth into snapping at him. Ryli alternated between hisses and chirps but still sagged like a rag doll in the crook of his elbow. Rodney snuck in and took her from him with both functioning hands and settled concerns about the snack-sized Coppi picking fights her humans couldn’t survive. The adult sniffed at John again as Ryli disappeared out of easy reach and then dropped back down to all four feet and ambled off.

Ryli made her washboard chattering noises as Rodney kept her thoroughly pinned inside his jacket. “I think we’re good, right? That’s… that’s plenty of Coppi preview for now.”

“That’s what she’s gonna turn into? Or Wit?” John asked, still standing at the wall and looking down at the animals.

Across the yard, nearest the city wall, one of the Coppi started flapping the massive wings - they had to be big enough to cover a Jumper - and launched itself up the wall like a runway ramp. There was a scuffle as the Coppi nearest it got smacked and shoved for being in the way, and louder, more echoing versions of Ryli’s crackling noises started up around the yard. The gold colored Coppi who had started it didn’t seem to care, as they were up on top of the wall and preening at the wing that had hit one of the others.

Then, without any of the trainers in the yard seeming to care, the Coppi jumped off the wall and flew. The damn thing broke all the laws of physics and flew like a bird. That time it was Rodney who swore, even ducked an elbow up as the unexpected flight so far away still startled him.

It was maybe one of the coolest things John had ever seen in his life. And he had just so easily somehow, without any memory of how it happened, committed all of Atlantis to the raising of a couple of critters who could possibly do it. He had screwed up, so very badly, but a very large part of him didn’t feel bad about it.

“Elizabeth is gonna kill me,” he said. Beside him, Rodney nodded.

“Let’s emphasize the part where you gave me the rock, leave out the part where I hatched it,” he agreed. John stared at him, a slow smile edging past the adrenaline of the last few minutes.

“You hatched it?” he asked, because, sore ribs be damned, he was about three seconds from laughing out loud at the cartoon image in his head of Rodney McKay sitting on an egg, even if it did look like a blue rock. Rodney scowled at him.

“Not like that, you idiot. I had it wrapped in my coat and she got warm enough to hatch after a few hours,” he explained quickly. He smacked at John’s arm accusingly when the smile didn’t fade off. “You told me to lick it, like that would help. And you started peeling pieces off and everything.”

“So you hatched a dragon egg,” John said. It was never going away. Ever. He wanted to remember things so badly as they had actually happened, but this one thing he might be okay with the replacement.

“You started it,” Rodney defended. “We hatched it. That’s why she imprinted on both of us. Toure said that normally it’s just their parent.”

It did very little to quell the need to taunt Rodney about hatching eggs, because John Sheppard was mentally the age of eight years old more often than he liked, and Rodney had hatched a dragon egg. But they still headed back into the tunnel that led them out through the maze of hallways and away from the adult-sized Coppi play-yard. Rodney kept Ryli buried in his coat and her deep purring rattled around the stone hallway, earning them a few looks from people they passed. It looked a little like they were smuggling a Coppi out of somewhere, but there were enough other young Coppi wandering around with the city’s regular citizens that nobody questioned them on it.

“What about the ‘gate?” John asked as the Jumper came into view again. “Where are we on that?”

Rodney cast a look at him. “We’re stuck until I can get up there. I told you that.”

“Yeah, but that’s all you told me. Catch me up,” John ordered. Rodney huffed a sigh and steered him toward the Jumper again.

“You can’t do anything about it,” Rodney pointed out.

“That’s not the point,” replied John. And Rodney didn’t give him grief about wanting the technobabble explanation on the stargate problems. He set Ryli loose in the Jumper again and showed John the pictures on the tablet of the damage that had been done, taken from the video calls that Rodney had set up with Teyla and Ronon.

John was more distracted trying to remember Ronon as the man showed up on Teyla’s video. He was getting tired, the science wasn’t connecting fully beyond the basic concepts and their new fourth teammate was pinging as familiar but still unknown. The only thing that John could pull up as a memory was being on the wrong end of the man’s gun, which didn’t make any sense at all.

Threatening the CO’s life was generally a deal breaker for team assignments, but there was this new Dex guy, not-married to Teyla, and helping her explain the screwed up stargate in blunt terms like “Well, we’re fucked until McKay gets up here.” Which in and of itself was a familiar phrase so John couldn’t tell which part was really pinging his memory, the man himself or just everything else.

After a certain point, he just started zoning out, and Rodney seemed to notice because his explanations faded off and he seemed to be waiting. “I told you. This isn’t stuff you can really get involved with.”

“At least I know about it, okay? Whatever I need to know about… just. Tell me. So it doesn’t happen again,” John said, bluntly honest more because his brain was too tired to fully track. He wasn’t even thinking about having to explain what ‘it’ was, because to him, it was obvious, and McKay was a genius and could figure it out. There was a guilty quiet from Rodney’s side of the Jumper console.

“Yeah, out here,” said Rodney, shaking his head. “But I don’t trust it. So nothing in there. I mean nothing.”

“Yeah, I got that memo, finally,” John replied. They sat in quiet after that, John trying to sort out his head and his team and his job and what to do with the dragon hiding in the storage area at the back of the Jumper. They were across the galaxy from home and maybe the ‘gate could be fixed and maybe it couldn’t. Everything about his existence hurt and was somehow two steps off of where it should be. He couldn’t make a lot of it line up.

Rodney was still Rodney, though, the only real thing that seemed normal, and a huge piece of that puzzle had been kicked loose on him in the last few hours, too. He was Rodney, but he wasn’t his Rodney. That had been a lie, told for someone else. But it was still real in his head and John couldn’t logic his way out of it. All the reasons it wasn’t true, couldn’t be true, were easily ignored from where John was sitting then.

Maybe Sheppard was really just a selfish coward, but he didn't want the lie to be done yet. He had wanted it to be true when he first felt it and it was no different now that he knew there was just a con to be sold over on the aliens. He didn't know how to keep it. He knew he couldn't keep it when he got home. And he knew he wasn't home yet. That was a very narrow window to work with. All of it ended up with John scowling at the window, holding aching, tired ribs that were a long way from the cozy chairs he had hidden in all week, and getting mad at himself all over again just to make it worse.

Ryli clucked from her hiding spot, announcing her awareness like she was some kind of programmed radar, always pinging to report her location. She did it again, changed pitch a few times. Then there came a thump and a scratching of tiny claws on the floor as she ran to the forward deck. She jumped on the back of John's chair and clambered up to the top, perched there to rest her neck and head on the top of John's hair. John sighed; the insistent cuddle didn't make him feel better. The dragon didn't seem to notice and just made more of her crackling vocal sounds from right up close.

"John?" Rodney asked. It had been quiet aside from Ryli for minutes, dragging the hesitance out from the usually loud and certain scientist. "You said something before, and I don't - I mean, maybe you remember. I don't know, but that's the problem, isn't it? I don't know what you don't know and even making sure you know, I still don't know…"

John blinked at him, derailed by the question. "Was that supposed to make sense?"

Rodney pursed his lips and then seemed to kick himself into getting to the point.

"Before you got hurt... You told the Regent that you loved me, that we'd been partners from the start. That's… that's the part I don't know about."

Knowing in hindsight about the con for the Cairnyth rules, this new information was a certain kind of horrifying, to learn John had just outed himself to a stranger for politics like that, in front of Rodney. John couldn't move for a few entire seconds until Ryli smacked him in the head and chirped painfully loud. He couldn't even tell who's side the damn dragon was on anymore.

"I don't remember that," he managed to get out, but even he knew it was just stalling. Rodney nodded.

"Right. I just thought maybe you'd… remember if it was… uh… I guess, true, or not?" he asked. And it sure sounded like it hurt to ask at all. The familiar defensive anger kicked up to save John's ability to keep breathing.

"What? That's the damn con, isn't it? We just had to make the guy think we're married, right? The L-word sorta has to go with some kind of life partnership, Rodney, otherwise you end up wanting to kill each other at the end of the day. Defeats the whole idea."

"Yes, I get that, but it wasn't the question," returned Rodney. He maybe sounded a little defensive, too. John glared at the walls outside the Jumper window, feeling more trapped than anything.

"What do you want?" he finally asked. "My team's like… family, here. That's you and Teyla and Ford. Lizabeth. Okay? I'm… allowed to use that word for it."

And that was true and it was why everything was so fucked up. Some stupid Omen tradition on another planet was screwing with John's ability to hang on to the thing he had with Rodney and the team. It had messed with John's head and now he had to fix it back the way it was before when he didn't want to. But he didn't want to screw up his place on his team, either; everyone in it was too important.

Rodney just stared at him for the longest time and John tried to ignore it.

"You forgot Ronon," Rodney finally said.

"Yeah, well, I did, didn't I?" John replied. "You want miracles, I'm fresh out."

There was still something Rodney was looking for from him and John hadn't hit the mark. The normally opinionated man was being unnaturally quiet and still, just waiting, staring at John like he was a computer screen stuffed with lines of code.

"Is this because we've been out for a few hours? Do you need me to go find the quack?" Rodney asked. And it just made John mad that he probably had a point. He leaned out from under Ryli carefully, so she could catch her balance, before he tried to stand up. She had opinions about that tactic and let John know about it, but he still managed to gain his feet without venting more swearing and frustration at himself.

"No," he said, as firmly as possible. "Just… I need to get back. Without getting lost or any stupid thing. I don’t even know where I am. So that’s what you're for, genius."

"Right. Good thing I got that navigation badge in scouting," Rodney replied, but he still seemed too calm. John decided he wasn't going to try figuring McKay out anymore until he had a brain that actually worked, to keep himself out of trouble that way. So he just stood and waited, weathering Rodney's staring at him, like if he kept it up long enough he could make John make sense. The man eased up and snagged one of the tablets on the way out the back. Neither of them had a hold of Ryli, which made John nervous, but she chased after them and was out before they closed up the ship.

Outside, John lagged behind a step, dizzy and slow from pushing too far. His attention split between keeping track of Rodney and keeping track of Ryli as the dragon zig-zagged across the sandy grass, because that was easy. Rodney caught on that the guy who had demanded to leave hadn't kept up the hurry and stopped to wait, the tablet tucked to his side.

John noticed the ring still on the wrong hand and again inwardly cringed at how badly he had screwed up. It hadn't seemed like a screw up at the time… but he was stuck with it. He liked his life better when it just was, before he knew he had lost the plan, when he could hang on to that.

Ryli zoomed off ahead of them, her wings working like she wanted to launch, but she was just in it to scare the big raven-sized pigeons that were bigger than her as they crossed the open courtyard. John tapped his left hand to Rodney's right, muttering, "Give me that."

There wasn't any argument or questions, Rodney just moved the tablet to his other hand and folded their fingers together. It was still easy. It still wasn't fair. John could make the excuse that he wanted the assist with balance, that they needed to convince the spies, play it off as anything that didn't leave him fighting the hurt on his own, as long as it wasn’t the truth it had been that morning when he woke up.

The stairs were another test entirely, moving out from under his boots if he wasn't paying close attention. He had to balance off Rodney's help like he was eighty years old and frail just because he couldn't keep focused. He must have said something out loud because Rodney told him no.

"You're tired. You're fine. You just haven't seen daylight in a week and this was... a lot," he said. He was fully confident in the assessment, like the guy knew anything about traumatic brain injuries to non-computers.

"Right," agreed John anyway. He managed the last three steps and let Rodney get them away from the stairs a few feet before he stopped and leaned on him, closing his eyes and willing the world to be still. Ryli was still running around on her own, probably more unsupervised than under control, and he heard her skitter into something that was probably not meant to be jumped on by dragons but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes and look. But there was no crashing, no shattering noise, just Ryli clucking at something in triumph, so John was allowed to stay where he was.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Rodney asked, very quiet, even concerned.

“Just tired,” John reminded him. Rodney leaned in a little, tried to take on some of John's weight with a hand around his back to catch at his hip instead. Not that he would be carrying John or hefting him up, but he was at least determined to steer the ship, and John had to argue that on principle.

Break time done, he opened his eyes, relieved when he saw that the blur had faded. He wasn't quite as dizzy, had full control of his senses again, and had Rodney tucked up close to keep him upright. So he kissed him, right there in the hall at the top of the stairs. He would get his excuses in while he could. It was just part of the deal, and Rodney said he had taught him in the first place, so John could take the cues from his on-the-record partner. The man kissed him back. Everything was fine.

The dragon had another opinion entirely and jumped on John's leg, with claws, to climb his back, also with claws, and take her perch on his shoulder. Rodney really did catch his weight then as John belatedly dodged. Ryli made little chit-chit-chit noises at them as John tried to recover from her not-even ten pounds of weight launching into week-old bruising and Rodney pressed closer to keep him from falling over. He tried to coax her away but John shook his head and pulled into his own space again, keeping the Coppi chattering at his shoulder.

"Leave her. I'll… I need sleep," he said. He pulled at Rodney's shirt to get him moving toward the door of their rooms again. They weren't far away and then he could sleep. Everything would be better when he woke up. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could forget a few things again.

Chapter Text

After so many days with both of her people back, Ryli had started to show signs of her natural energy. She no longer curled up quietly next to John as he slept and instead took to pouncing on the pillows and threatening to wake him up if Rodney didn’t figure out how to keep her occupied somewhere else.

She could be bought off with treats for a little while, and then set on the floor to do her zoomies. She would then derail to the door to hiss and spit at the doctor in the other room. That was less than ideal, but the doctor was the one who wouldn’t let Rodney close the door.

Inevitably, it sent Rodney back to the bed, with Ryli in hand, to try to distract her with silent commands somewhere he could contain her, with the claustrophobic curtains. He accidentally discovered that she watched the tablet screen when he had left it playing on a racing game when he went to fetch her from one of her trips to the doorway; he came back to put her down and she started pouncing on the car he had left spinning across the screen. After that, he tried to distract her with the oddities on the different games, letting her pounce on the case, and absolutely trash the game’s score-keeping. Coppi didn’t care much for points, only about trying to catch the weird-colored beetles that race cars and golf balls and Pacman somehow resembled on the digital screen to their vision.

It was worse than keeping track of a toddler because, on top of the weird, scratching, gravelly noises she would make, the Coppi had claws and teeth and instinct that told her to use them if she didn’t like something. But after a while it worked out, and through either boredom or exhaustion, Ryli moved over and stretched out along John’s arm, and spread out her wings to melt into the pillows and go back to sleep.

Which left Rodney stuck inside a four-poster bed with the curtains drawn, listening to John breathe as the baby dragon next to him snored and purred. On every level, it was something that should have driven Rodney mad. But it strangely made him feel better. And it made him think.

It was entirely possible that he was in completely unknown territory. Far in over his head. Beyond any point of help or return. He had been so wrapped up in worry for John that he had forgotten the basic encryption protections on the tablet, protections he had enabled on his last report to Elizabeth before the 'gate had crashed.

He had been so convinced the data could be hacked that he kept everything in the Jumper, locked up and turned off unless he was using it. The Cairnyth scientists had been overly enthusiastic in trying to create a power conversion setup, so curious about their portable technology, so helpful, that Rodney saw only the threat it posed to John; if anyone figured out how to get into his tablet, if they read his report to Atlantis, John was the most vulnerable among the team.

They spent five days trusting the medicines and the scans and the only thing Rodney had within his jurisdiction to do, to help, was protect the Milky Way technology that didn't seem far enough away from the Cairnyth tech to be secure. He completely ignored the report to Elizabeth, for five days, when it would have quietly explained everything to John without any of the lies. Rodney just forgot it existed, in all the noise and stress and worry over the Colonel.

That wasn't normal. That was a problem. Dr. Rodney McKay had his phDs, plural, because his brain activated under pressure. He responded to stress with brilliance unknown to mankind. He spent entire days awake, living on PowerBars and uppers and micro-naps, coordinating systems between one technological language and an alien counterpart light-years more advanced, and regularly saved hundreds of lives by finding the right piece at the right moment to keep everything moving and get the guys at the front of the fight the time and information they needed to win.

And he had overlooked a simple encryption program.

Because John.

His relationship with Katie had never been in the way of connecting the dots, through all the emergencies and life and death situations Atlantis had been in through the year Rodney had been dating her. She was hardly ever a blip on the radar; when there was a problem, it had to be solved, and the impact it would have on her or on the botany department never registered as a concern. Even if it meant Rodney had to spend weeks dealing with complaints because he had reduced their power rations and kept forgetting to set it back.

All options to save the day always stayed on the table, maybe even selfishly so, regardless of her opinion. That was why their relationship didn't work, ultimately. He was always going to take care of the problem in front of him, everyone else be damned, because it had to be done and he was the one who knew how.

Camped out in the Regent's room, watching over John as the man slept like the dead, exhausted and sore after hours of wandering the city and the week-delayed revelations, Rodney wondered if maybe he hadn't forgotten something so stupidly basic out of the same selfish default. Keeping up the lie worked better if they believed it, and for a few days, Rodney knew, John believed it. He knew what to do by default then, and Rodney didn't have to try to figure out where the lie was, where the truth started.

It made it easier, when Rodney was already juggling the stress of seeing the man's injuries, letting someone who wasn't Carson's team take care of him, and holding that responsibility, on top of keeping track of the other half of their team and the damaged stargate… it was too many directions, too many variables, and Rodney had accidentally-maybe-on-purpose removed one.

It was cheating, he took a shortcut, and the question of if he had done it on purpose ate at him. But he had somehow fixed it and John still trusted him… so Rodney couldn't say he wouldn't have done it again if they stepped through a time warp and he had to do things over.

Sheppard was notoriously terrible at simply saying things, he always asked questions, hemmed around the edges to get other people around to realize the answers he wanted them to arrive at. And because John couldn't remember, he assumed for entire days that things had already been said between them, assumed Rodney already knew what those answers were. John never would have said half the things he had admitted to over the past few days if he had realized he hadn't already gone through the usual pattern of guessing games.

John had included Rodney, shown him the part of the US Air Force Lt. Colonel that not many others got to witness, let alone feel under their hands and in their personal space. He had been open about things that he wouldn't normally even try to find words for, confessed to having wanted Rodney for months and shoved it down rather than say anything. Maybe it had been that way for years and Rodney had never known.

It was like Rodney had hacked his friend's brain while the firewall was turned off, which was cheating, but damned if it didn't still get the job done. Things had been said and done that should have moved them closer together, changed the thorny details of their friendship to fit something different, unknown, and welcome. And until Rodney had told John the truth, Rodney trusted that John, the man who couldn't remember entire months of his life, hadn't bothered to conform to a script and was actually making choices because of who he was, what he wanted. And because of who they were, to each other.

But now, that wasn't so clear. Now, they were back to just worrying about politics, keeping strangers happy, saving the team from the potential harm and embarrassment of being caught out in a lie and offending an entire culture capable of scaring off the Wraith. The data-download from behind the firewall had been re-encrypted and Rodney could only stare at unbreakable code until John got around to saying something again.

The problem, of course, was that Rodney couldn’t unlearn any of what he had seen from John over the past few days. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to. His own feelings for the man weren't exactly easy to sort out; the fact that he was one of Rodney's best friends, someone he looked up to even, all warred with sometimes jealousy, and sat at odds with the bitterness of things he couldn't logically ever have.

Did it make him a bad friend if he had always hated John for his perfect stupid hair but had early on thought up a list of obscene things the man's mouth could do that Rodney wouldn't mind personally experiencing? They were well into exploring that territory over the last week and a half since their charade for the Cairnythians had started up and that list had only gotten longer in the meantime.

They made a good team at work and in what downtime they were allowed, and John was who Rodney wanted to spend time with, anyway. Even when they were both in a mood to tear each other's heads off, locked in some bitter argument about Batman or Alien, they were still arguing about things they both enjoyed, damn it. For fun. Together. And he had never seen John argue about Star Wars with anyone else, the man too stuck on the cool Air Force Colonel reputation to be anything more than a dumb jock to those outside of his team.

John had admitted to Rodney he struggled with it all, too, from the start; he said it left a mark, and with everything he had forgotten, he remembered that. Rodney sure as hell wasn't going to forget it. He didn't know what to do with it, though. Not when John had so easily dropped back to saying it was all part of the story they were making up for the sake of the Cairnyth Omen. They could sit in each other's laps all day to sell an act, but Rodney couldn't tell if it was really as empty as that anymore. It hadn't been at all, really, from the second John had pulled him into that first kiss.

The Omen was a cover, an excuse to do something Rodney had wanted to do for months but never hoped to try for; there were too many things in the way at home and no point risking their friendship over something they couldn't have. But what happened in Cairnyth was supposed to stay there… they just couldn't have expected it to be as permanent as a broken stargate and months of missing memories. Now there were consequences to navigate. And until John worked back around to giving him any kind of honest answers, Rodney was stuck with figuring it out for himself, like before.

It all meant that Rodney had to be more careful about not taking shortcuts to the advantage of his own self-interests. He couldn't make those assumptions anymore. That was why they had the tablet back in the room with them. When John got around to waking up, Rodney would make him read the report he had sent to Elizabeth, so he at least knew what she knew. What the SGC would know when they uploaded the reports, and Rodney would have to explain that part to him all over again in case John had forgotten that they reported back to Earth again. Instead of protecting him from too much information, maybe hitting him with an information overload would help him remember; John had seemed fascinated with the videos with Ronon in them, had replayed short portions a dozen times, so maybe he remembered things.

The whole puzzle of Sheppard hadn't fully settled for Rodney by the time the man woke up. It derailed entirely when he recognized pain on his friend's face before John was even awake, a wince and a hiss and a protective curl toward his broken arm. His breathing changed, shallow and short. It wasn't anything Ryli had caused, as she was stretched out along the other arm and hadn't moved. It was just the aftermath of his injuries, nothing Rodney could help with.

"John?" he asked anyway, just to try to wake him from whatever had triggered the pain. It seemed to work and the groggy Colonel snapped to awareness, blurry eyed and blinking but looking around. He found Rodney and relaxed, seemed to take a full breath.

"Hey, buddy," he muttered.

"Do you need Dr. Lemon or whatever his name is?" Rodney asked. John slowly cracked a grin and shook his head.

"Dr. Melann, and no. Just… to wake up," he said. And food, and the last of the pills from the First Aid kit. And much to Ryli's annoyance, John got himself out of bed to start sorting those out for himself.

He didn't ask for more than Rodney's company as he did. And he remembered the idiot doctor’s name, so that had to be an overall improvement, especially when taken along with the rest of the day’s activities. The food part was easy to accommodate, as their dinner had been brought up while he slept and Rodney just left it alone, kept both plates covered to keep Ryli out of them.

So he offered the tablet and the official report to him as John sat at the table with a plate of real food, albeit cold. John glanced up at him, looking like he was about to grouch about it, but he instead just nodded. He silently read the report, with Ryli sitting on the back of the chair and leaning forward every so often like she could try to steal the food off his fork unnoticed while John was distracted. She succeeded exactly once and he glared at her for it, but he didn’t let her steal the bottle of pain medicine until he had taken the last pills from it. Then she took her prize and ran away to kick it around the rug, leaving John and Rodney to finish the rest of their meal in peace. Because Rodney was determined not to talk as the Colonel read over the report.

He eventually put it aside, muttering, "Got it."

"I don't suppose that helped remember anything," Rodney said. John shrugged.

"I remember Elizabeth. I still definitely remember Ronon aiming a funny looking gun at me, though, too," he replied.

"Hey, you shot me once," Rodney volunteered, spoon waving at John to get his attention. "And Ronon. If it makes you feel any better on that score."

John stared at him, jaw slack. "Not really. At all."

Rodney shrugged. "It was an accident. Sort of. And you apologized."

It didn't seem to have settled him any further on it and John shoved his plate carefully toward Rodney in invitation, like he was done with it. It still had plenty of food on it but John waved it off. "Do I want to know?"

So Rodney did his best to refresh John's memory of the time he had shot half his team while trying to protect Teyla from them, as Ronon ran around thinking he was chasing Wraith, Carson talked to ghosts, and Rodney struggled to save them all from the relic of a generator that was causing the illusions. John ended up with his head over his arms on the tabletop, likely would have been beating it against them if there wasn't a cast on one and it probably would have just hurt more. But it was at least a little validation; Rodney had been the one shot, after all. It wasn't much, though, considering John was all healing bruises and scrapes, and didn't actually remember anything.

"What's a little gunshot wound between friends, right?" Rodney offered. "It could have been worse. It's better than the time you kissed Elizabeth. And Teyla. Her too."

John squinted over at him. "Shit. I remember that."

"Oh, hey, that's good news," Rodney replied, honestly excited and wanting to expand the window somehow. John just stared at him like he had grown a second head.

"How the hell is that good news? I've now made out with almost everyone on my team. You're gonna tell me that includes Ronon now and I don't even remember the guy. Jeezus, I'm the worst- the worst anything. What the hell…"

"Pretty sure you haven't made out with all of us. Me, yes. The others, no. Kissing doesn't count," Rodney said, slightly defensive. Maybe John was the belle of the ball on every planet their team visited, a regular James T. Kirk for anything female and fanatical, but he didn't actually make out with everyone. That was still a more discerning few, and it currently felt like Rodney's personal territory.

John was still distressed about the fact that he couldn't remember things, however, and shook his head. "Ronon, though!"

"I can ask him, I don't know what you two get up to, but I'm pretty sure not that," said Rodney. The confused jealousy aside, he was having perhaps too much fun at John's expense and weathering the glare for it. "I think you're too old for him."

"Oh, ha ha," replied John. He sat up then, holding his ribs gingerly. He shook a finger at Rodney then as an afterthought. "And don't ask him. I don't want to know."

"Neither do I, honestly," Rodney said, scrunching his nose at the suggestion. "I'm sure it would kick up a whole host of adequacy issues I don't want to deal with any time soon."

That one worked and a shade of John's smug grin showed up again. Whether he remembered or not, for a moment things felt normal, in a place where they had no right to at all. It was broken by the ominous scrabble of claws over stone as Ryli's running crossed the room toward them with the speed that suggested intent.

A moment later, the Coppi had jumped up onto the table from the other side and slid on the cloth to crash into John's plate. Rodney had only just finished his own, so the wooden plate flipped to the floor, the food with it. Ryli sniffed around the empty plate next to him and then jumped back down to chase the food that was now fair game on the floor.

"Are you kidding?" Rodney asked her, still recovering from the attack. Ryli was too busy scarfing down half a chunk of roasted bird to bother acknowledging the halfhearted chastising. John glanced up at him.

"I don't think we're raising her right," he said. "If one of those big guys did that, we'd be dead right now."

"She's not going to get that big," Rodney replied. He was fully confident in that. He had been assured many times that her wing issue, unfortunate as it was, would keep her a manageable size. "Ronon and Teyla will have Wit to worry about, though."

"Which means so will we," John pointed out, which was valid, but not on Rodney's current list of problems to be fixed. That was still on the other two, as they had even taken Rodney's Coppi trainers with them back up the mountain. Ryli finished cleaning up the floor and then parkoured her way back up to the table by bouncing off of John's thigh. She sat between them on the tabletop and preened. Rodney sighed and gave her scritches around her ear. She started up her purring and flopped over sideways. All was quiet for a few minutes, with the exception of the Coppi.

"What's the Daedalus?" John asked, seemingly random. Rodney frowned up at him.

"I told you, days ago."

It seemed like they had somehow taken a step backwards again because John gave him the face of utter confusion that came with a shade of anger. Usually at himself, though. "You did?"

"Yes." Rodney nodded, absolutely certain he had. They had gone over the tech toys and a few of the times the ship had saved their collective bacon. John sagged in the chair again and shook his head.

"I don't remember it. I just remembered the name. And Caldwell. Colonel or something."

"I told you about Caldwell," said Rodney. It was frustrating. Every time they got close to a step forward, some surprise had to hit. John went suddenly very pale.

"I didn't kiss him too, right?" he asked quickly.

Rodney stared at him, completely caught off guard by the question. He blinked a few times as he tried to catch up, unintentionally but amusingly adding to John's panic. Rodney was absolutely certain no one in their sane mind would ever want to get into Colonel Stephen Caldwell's jumpsuit, and the man definitely wasn't John's usual type. That was ignoring entirely that he was in Sheppard's direct chain of command and would have had him court martialed in a second flat if he had ever tried it. Rodney leaned an elbow on the table and frowned over at him.

"Is this historically a problem for you? Kissing everyone you know?" he asked, as straight-faced as possible. It was a taunt, because the mere suggestion was laughable and yet John seemed very genuinely concerned about his own life choices just then. The man with the Swiss-cheese memory kicked out at him but he hadn't put his boots back on so it wasn't much of a threat. He pointed a finger instead.

"Hey, no jokes-"

"I'm not joking," replied Rodney soberly. "If this is a pattern of behavior, I think after everything else, we should all be aware of it."

But his expression must have cracked because John's frustration faded off and his hazel eyes narrowed, a particular brightness showing up green. He tilted his head, frowned back at Rodney.

"How the hell should I know? I can't remember crap anymore, and you're not helping at all," he said, the familiar drawl slowing his words. "Maybe it's not everybody, maybe it is. I'm just taking your word for it that we've even messed around, damned if I can remember a thing about you…"

That was a direct challenge to adequacies that Rodney held a personal pride in and it wasn't something to be shrugged off. "That wasn't that long ago. I can definitely remind you."

John's determined glare held as Rodney leaned in but he was smiling when they kissed. On the table, now behind Rodney's shoulder, Ryli chattered away like she had a busy day full of adventures to tell them all about and carried on preening as she made noise, her sounds muffled by the occasional paw swipe across her own nose. It kept her busy by herself as Rodney tried to make John forget how to breathe again. He had to be very careful of bruises, but the inside of John's thigh was a safe zone that Rodney had already learned could light him up quickly, particularly when he was being kissed.

"Yeah, okay, I remember," John said, quiet, when the exploring kisses took a break. It was a shame that kind of attention couldn't really bring back the man's memories because there were a lot of things Rodney was more than willing to try. Though the doctor in the next room playing spy games probably wouldn't appreciate their efforts if they tried it.

John stayed awake for another hour, on one of the room's overstuffed couches, entertaining himself by training Ryli on the basics that could be taught without him having to walk anywhere. And when he went to bed for the night, Rodney did, too. They drew the curtains on the four-poster and snuck into each other's space without the Coppi's permission, leaving her a stack of pillows on John's side of the massive bed as Rodney tried to sort out the buttons on John's shirt and John fought one-handed with the hem of Rodney's. It was dark and the cast on John's arm made them both clumsy and frustrated and John ended up laughing enough that his ribs hurt before they even got going.

The next morning, though, they figured it out. They set Ryli outside the curtains to use her digging boxes and run off her energy, and then they kept the heavy drapes closed, effectively disappearing from her attention span as she zoomed around the room with jumps and useless wing-flapping.

Finally Rodney got both hands and his mouth on various parts of John that he had only ever seen from out of reach before, and usually then when someone on their team was trying to save the idiot's life. John was bruised but very much alive and pushing himself a lot further than he should have, even getting very creative about working around the cast. He crawled in Rodney's lap that time and they were careful about his ribs and his arm and his head.

There was an obnoxious thrill to it, only half naked and making out in the ornate bed of the local royalty, with a snoopy doctor in the next room propping the door open. It was still John under his hands, though, letting Rodney touch and even grab. His hand slipped under the soft tie-banding of his pants and massaged so carefully from John's hip and around low, unsure of the risk of bruises and cuts because Rodney hadn't spied that closely on the man's doctor's visits. But John just angled up higher to let him do it, pressing their kisses deeper to pull his breath, dragging the casted arm lightly over Rodney's bare shoulders like he knew what the sensation would do to him.

They were hidden away, left to themselves, and Sheppard was putting work into maybe making him crazy. He was still hurt and Rodney was too aware of the fact; they were letting their bodies write checks that couldn't be cashed and everything Rodney could keep track of said that they were both enjoying the effort. John was still quiet, almost passive in his hands, but he had lay claim to Rodney's mouth and it pretty effectively shut him up, too.

Whatever it was they had between them, it wasn't clothes for once, and Rodney derailed on every effort to make sense of him. John wore him out, and he wasn't the injured one, so Rodney stopped trying to overthink it. And they both recovered, by mutual decision, by curling back up together under the tangled blankets and sleeping in.

When Rodney did wake up, Ryli had figured out her way back behind the curtains and had wedged herself in on their shoulders, her wings over both of them as she snored. It was brighter in the room beyond the bed, and John still slept. Rodney wanted coffee and problems he could solve so he crept out and got on with his day. Or what he was allowed of one, anyway, stuck miles away from the stargate that he needed to be fixing.

When John woke up, he was definitely paying for their fun, and the leftovers of the day before, and had to ask for painkillers from the doc. It got Rodney glared at by the doctor, but it wasn't like he cared because he didn't like the quack on principle. He was more worried that John hurt. But John still lurked in his space and seemed happy even though not better.

"Are you… look, you're good? With that? What happened?" Rodney finally had to ask. They sat at the table contemplating the lunch offerings that were still bland and aimed at the Cairnythian quack's interpretation of nutrition over taste. It was tolerable, but John didn't have much of an appetite back, so it didn't help. Pausing as he played with the spoon in his soup, John squinted over at Rodney through his headache, confusion furrowing his brow. Rodney waved vaguely toward the bed. "That."

John started to nod and then shrugged. "Not exactly my scene, but I'm good. With you, I'm good."

That was at once a backhanded blow and a stroke to the ego and Rodney stared at him, jaw slack, brain stuck.

"I… don't know what that means," Rodney admitted.

John scrunched his face up, looked down at the food in the middle of the table. Ryli popped up on her chair across from them, put her front feet on the edge of the table and stole their attention briefly. Both of the men snapped their fingers at her to order her down. She hissed but complied, sat on all fours in the chair with her chest puffed up as she glared. The angry, narrowed eyes eased up and got wide and pitiful in short order as John crunched at something that was kind of like a carrot instead of deal with Rodney.

"You remember what we talked about, right?" Rodney asked, suddenly concerned that his shortcut wasn't fixable after all. "In the Jumper…"

"Yeah. Told you, I'm fine," said John. He frowned, brow creased and frustrated. He waved at the bed again. "This is… something different. It's… I mean. Here, it's fine, it's you. I'm good. But it's never… it's not what I show up for. Never has been. Not with you or Nancy or anybody."

Mentioning the ex-wife was a rare occasion, usually something John only did when he was stuck in his head and quiet, on his moodier days. That she came up when Rodney was trying to make sure his partner was present and healthy was a big flag, and especially frustrating when they were stuck talking in code. He wanted to grab the man's hand and haul him back to the Jumper suddenly but he didn't think John would be able to handle it, with the way he kept squinting and leaning. It was clear they shouldn't have messed around but Rodney couldn't figure out exactly how badly he had screwed up when they were being spied on.

"I'm sorry if-"

"No, damn- that's not-" Sheppard went quiet as Ryli jumped on the table next to him. Another frustration point on top of the pain and he quickly caught her up and pulled her into his lap to keep her out of trouble. The animal started up with a quiet, sporadic rattle, a preemptive purr because she expected to be fed from John's plate; they had spoiled her on it enough already. He gave her a carrot to keep her happy even if it didn't make her quiet.

"We can do whatever you want, if that's what you want. You're here, okay? That's… that's all I care about," John said. He was very quiet, for him, and he glanced up at Rodney rather than really look at him. He poked a finger at the table in front of them. "Just here. We're good. Maybe I can't do much, but I… don't have to. We can take it or leave it. I mean, if Ryli's going to do her thing, the wings on the face, whatever… that's fine, too. You're right there, you're good, so... I'm good."

"Yeah, I'm here," said Rodney, not completely following the confused jumble of awkward from the guy who was supposed to be the cool one. "I mean, that's more or less what I wanted to make sure was okay…"

"And I'm saying it is," said John. He rolled his eyes and distracted himself by taunting Ryli with another stuck of food. "Look, call me Kirk all you want, but I'm not in it for the T-and-A, Rodney. I hardly ever pay attention to that stuff until it drops on me. Never see it until it's shoved in my face and I'm in it. So I'll… go where you go on it. As long as I can, anyway."

That was a whole new piece of the puzzle, something vaguely familiar to Rodney but mostly a surprise. Lt. Colonel John Sheppard was the darling of the Pegasus galaxy. Even Atlantis liked him better than anyone else, lighting up under his feet the day they showed up. So many planets they had visited had aliens looking at him like a trophy to be won and John always smiled back at their come-ons and warnings. A few hours in a time dilation field and the man walked out with a whole village clinging to him, a woman asking him to ascend. It followed him everywhere.

And he never even saw it?

Rodney openly stared. "You… how does that work?"

It was met with a shrug. "I don't know. I just… don't notice. Other stuff makes sense, but that stuff, it… just depends on who- I don't know."

"It depends on who you're with?" Rodney asked, not feeling any less confused at all. "So it was my idea so you went with it?"

John nodded, a little too quick as he winced and set a hand to his forehead like he had to hold it still after the pain had gone off. "Yeah. It's part of it, but… it's just there. Not… I don't know. Point is, it's fine, McKay. We're good. That was good. I just… maybe need medicated after until my head gets better, I don't plan this stuff. You know?"

Rodney definitely didn't know, but he had figured out that John was struggling with it anyway.

"Yeah, got it," he lied, just so John would stop adding to the confusion. The man's words worked their way in with everything else Rodney had been stewing on, rewriting some equations and code of what added up to John in his head. And John slept most of the day again.

At least the pain in the head had backed off. The scans the doctor insisted on still showed no signs of actionable trouble, and John's balance improved over the next two days. He stayed down for most of it, either crashed out asleep or propped up in a chair to refuse to sleep. He worked with Ryli, emptied their first bag of beetle jerky, and ordered Rodney off with her to get more and come back with more things to teach her.

On the second day, when he had his balance back enough to chance the stairs, John went down to the Jumper with Rodney for the check-in with their team, so they could both hear and be heard over the radio, since John had lost his. Flying away wasn't an option though until John was cleared and they knew they had a place to land up on the mountain. The Jumper at least offered the benefit of guaranteed privacy, though John said he had learned his lesson on fooling around until his ribs and arm healed up more. It was still spy-free time to speak with their team, and confirmation that Teyla and Ronon were still safe even if the team had been split up.

"Ronon's voice is almost familiar," John reported at one point, squinting out the Jumper's front view at the citadel they weren't allowed to leave. "But he sounds like a jerk. How the hell did he make it on the team?"

"Because you're a lazy jerk and I didn't have anything better to do," Ronon replied without missing a beat. Rodney watched John smile as their teammate passed whatever test had been set out.

"That sounds right," John said with a nod. “How’s the marriage over there?”

“Better than yours,” returned Ronon.

"Oh, zing," Rodney shot back, not amused. "The all-seeing slacker bored on the mountain knows so much."

"Settle down, kids," cut in Sheppard.

"Kids?" echoed Rodney. "Me?"

"See, we're doing just fine," replied John. And on the other end of the radio, Ronon started cackling.

"That is why we left you in Rodney's capable hands, Colonel," said Teyla, amused but much more polite about it than Ronon could manage.

"Well, he only sent me back to the doc that once," John said.

"That was hardly my fault," replied Rodney, and if the smug Colonel with the leaky memory wanted to play chicken over who did what to land John back in Melann's temporary office asking for pain medication, he would find Rodney more than willing to boast. But John was already pink in the ears and moved things very quickly away to safer conversations.

John seemed a little more like his old self when they left the Jumper, in increments. Later that night he remembered the computer game that he and Rodney had played for a while that turned out to be less of a game and more of a war strategy implementation software for an entire civilization. They were forbidden from personally contacting the people who had once regarded them as gods, however, so Rodney didn't have any recent updates for him. John said he thought that was probably best.

And through all of it, he would grab Rodney's hand, take up his space, lean in for kisses. Whether they were being watched or not didn't seem to matter. They slept in the same bed and, more often than not, Rodney woke up to John still asleep and groping blindly after his arm, or his wrist, or his hand. It seemed stupid but John always slept on his back, uninjured left side to Rodney, despite the fact that it meant that, nine times out of ten, Ryli tried to smother him with her wing while he slept. Rodney kept to sleeping on his stomach, safer from dragon-attack overall, but he still kept within reach when he slept.

Within a few days, John was awake more than he was asleep, and doing more things for himself. The quack doctor wasn’t happy with him for it, because he said rest and time were the best cures, but he at least admitted that Sheppard was capable and healing. He didn’t understand that it was just how the man worked, that John wouldn’t stay down, he always got back up, even if he was a moron who did stupid things and liked to give Rodney a heart attack in the middle of battle chasing after some stupid Hail Mary.

It was the number one reason they needed to get John back to Carson, back around doctors who knew him, but that wasn’t an option. Rodney couldn’t even leave just for the day to work on the ‘gate because of their rules. And the quack didn’t like Rodney any better for the fact that he complained about it all, often.

But they were at least stuck in a gilded cage, with catered meals and fire places they didn’t have to tend themselves at night, and plenty of space to retreat to their own corners when they needed to. Rodney could take Ryli out for socializing with the other baby Coppi but it was too far for John so they only did it once a day. John tried to train her on the things he figured she needed to know, and Rodney was put in charge of actually training her on the things the trainers said she needed to know, since he was the only one who could hike down to the Coppi playroom to talk to any of them since Harker and Toure had gone with Teyla.

No one who wasn’t the doctor, Rodney, or Nova’s secretary was allowed around John because of the Cairnyth’s traditional treatment of the injured. It was probably for the best because John Sheppard was not up to his usual levels of hardened and suspicious, and far too agreeable to be left around anyone his team didn’t know. But other than that, he was getting better, at least physically.

They had figured out a system for John that worked when Rodney found the clean-up bags in the Jumper; they just wrapped a bag around his arm to protect the cast, and Rodney took Ryli on a walk so that John could bathe in peace, with no one but the quack doctor to bother him. But it didn't work out so easy with Rodney, because John couldn't distract Ryli with a walk, and she absolutely refused to allow closed doors between her tiny Coppi-self and her chosen humans.

For the most part, unless he took the Coppi with him, Rodney had to try to do things that required leaving the room only when Ryli was asleep, otherwise there would be screeching protests that would either wake up John or just hurt everyone’s head. But as John started to get better, Rodney left him to take care of Ryli when they were both awake, because he could distract her and Ryli wouldn’t notice when Rodney snuck out.

It seemed to work fine when Rodney snuck off to the Jumper that way, so he tried it to take some time in the bath, slowly snicking the door closed behind him once the massive stone tub was full.

It worked for two minutes. Then Ryli was scratching up the door and chirping and squawking. There would be no relaxing soak. Only noise and water. And Rodney had to hurry.

Except once John was better, when the distraction efforts failed, he opened the door and let her inside the bath suite. And himself, too. Rodney scrabbled to find a towel for decency as Ryli pounced up the steps to sniff at him and the soapy water.

"Oh, come on," he complained. Ryli stuck her head under the water, her tail-end clinging to the raised edge of the tub space. John sat down on the steps and carefully tugged her out as she blew water and soap bubbles around in her curiosity. Rodney made a face at John for the invasion and his healing friend just shrugged. Rodney waved at the door just barely left open an inch. "Five minutes?"

"Do whatever you want. Perk of the whole married-thing. We're just… going to hang out, too," John said. And Ryli started splashing at the water with her grabby, taloned hands near places Rodney did not want them. But she was at least quiet.

"This is not relaxing," Rodney pointed out. John set his chin on his arm on the tub edge, then leaned out enough to kiss him. That part was admittedly an unexpected benefit of the lack of privacy in the bath.

Then Ryli was bored of the water and went off to start investigation of other parts of the room. The door was easily closed and nothing in the suite could be broken by an eight pound dragon, so they let her do what she wanted. And John sat on the steps and prodded Rodney into an update on her social training or the last radio check in from Teyla. One topic always led to another and the five minute request went longer. After the first week of it, Rodney had gotten used to it, but he always tried to close the door first. It just didn’t seem to work.

Eventually the quack doctor finally cleared them to leave. It had been a full ten days since the earthquake by then and they had only had radio contact with the rest of their team for most of that. Rodney was itching to get to the Jumper, get John away from the quack with the needles for pain medicine, and get back to their team.

They had to coordinate it with Phalen to make sure there was a location near the mountain castle large enough to safely park the ship, ideally where it wouldn't require John take a hike through the forest, and some place where the ship wouldn't potentially kill anyone in the event of another earthquake. The Aide Provost's secretary assured them that the landing platform had been cleared once the stargate Disk had been reassembled, and Teyla confirmed it for them.

When they finally managed to leave the lowlands city, Ryli was tucked away in John's new jacket, just her head peeking out to stare wide-eyed at Rodney in the pilot's seat. John was cleared to leave, but he still technically wasn't safe to fly. Even with the busted arm, it was only a short trip and Rodney would have let him if he felt up to it, but John refused.

"If we make it home, when I report this? I'm grounded for six months, easy," said John. He messed around with the dials on the dashboard as he spoke. "Especially if we're reporting back to the SGC now. There's procedures for TBI. Probably have to apply to the Jumpers, too. So get used to driving, buddy."

The pilot wasn't exactly happy to make the report, but he had the same weirdly mellow tone as he'd had all week. And, Rodney noticed, he was messing with the pressurization stabilizers.

"What's TBI?" Rodney asked, not fully comfortable with the plan to leave suddenly.

"Traumatic brain injury. Concussion. Ya know, the thing where I passed out for two days and came back missing time and dizzy? That. It's bad for pilots. No fly zone," John replied. He settled back in his chair then and tucked his unbroken arm in to protect his ribs from Ryli's squirming. He nodded Rodney's attention out at the window again. "Try to keep her low, as much as possible anyway. And maybe don't climb fast. Just… careful with the speed."

Rodney frowned over at him. "Do we need to figure something else out? Should you be flying? Is that- you shouldn't be flying yet," he realized. John shrugged.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to it but trying this is better than trying to ride a horse or something," he replied.

"They don't have horses," said Rodney. He was well used to the disappointment, but he had almost hoped John remembered the stupid hoith.

"See? So… Jumper. Go. Get us the hell home," John said, waving to the window. Home wasn't actually an option yet, but Rodney could get them at least a step closer to it. He got the Jumper in the air and headed for the mountain castle, with the ship programmed to look for Teyla's and Ronon's transmitter signals so they would lead Rodney to the landing site. They weren't in the air long, but John had lost some color and squinted like he had a headache by the time they landed.

Rodney looked him over, comparing his friend, as he stood up gingerly from his chair, to the man their team had seen last. He was better than the muddy and broken body they had pulled out from under a landslide, but he wasn't their Lt. Colonel who had arrived in Cairnyth two weeks ago in one piece, either. The bruises had faded to a paler wash of colors, and the scrapes on his face had started to heal, but the cut that followed his hairline back behind one ear was going to take more time. John wasn't fragile, Rodney knew, but to their team, to his friends, he was going to look worse. And the visible signs of headaches coming back, after a few days of not seeing them, just made Rodney worry all over again.

"They'll have a doctor up here," Rodney pointed out. John nodded ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I think I'll have to make nice with this one, too," he said. It seemed like they were still one step forward and two steps back. Not exactly the tango the trip had promised the last time they were at the castle built into the mountainside.

Chapter Text

Teyla seemed exactly like John remembered her, which made him feel at least a little better. She started to greet him with the careful Athosian version of a hug but was derailed quickly by first the dragon in John's jacket and then the cast on his arm. Ryli hissed like a deflating tire when Teyla settled instead for a sort of sideways hug so she could tuck under his uninjured shoulder and manage a one-armed squeeze at his waist.

"It is good to see you well," Teyla said. And she did seem relieved, hung on to his side a moment longer. John smiled back at her despite his headache.

"Better, anyway," added Ronon Dex. He stood a few feet away, looking on like he expected trouble from John. A little fire-red Coppi, probably a third Ryli's size, sat on his shoulder. "He's not back yet."

"I'm sorry I shot you," John offered up, not sure how to make peace with a member of his own team who had apparently labelled him the outsider.

"Just means I owe you," Ronon replied with a shrug. Like that wasn't ominous, given the size of the gun in the holster at the man's hip. Wit let out a tiny screech that was met by cackling from Ryli, but the two thankfully held their ground with their own humans. Ronon nodded toward the two Coppi. "We need to get you inside before the rain starts up and you melt."

"I won't melt," John replied, rolling his eyes. But the cast would, and he maybe wanted to lie down more than he was cozy admitting to out loud, so he didn't argue.

They didn't have much of a hike to the mountainside city and John didn't recognize a damn bit of any of it, even though Teyla was full of intended reminders about what had happened and where, the last time he had been to the castle. It was another castle. Slightly more ornate and admittedly much more impressive because it was built into the rocky cliffs of a mountain, but it was still just a castle. Not that John had seen a lot of those in his lifetime, he just didn't care about it as much as he did the low-grade headache that had hit the moment the Jumper gate opened. He had a dragon and a headache and that was the extent of his tracking capacity until he acclimated.

He had supposedly been to the guest wing before, and there were flashes of things that felt familiar, but he didn't remember it. Still, John went to his room, and Rodney followed him in to point out that he was back in the same room they had started out in two weeks earlier.

"Did you remember this was our room?" he wanted to know, not nosy or demanding, but hopeful and curious. And a nice twist of the knife on the wound that remembered he and John shared rooms.

John frowned as he looked around at the windowless box and put Ryli down on the bed. She immediately jumped down and started zooming around on the rug under it. Rodney carried their gear and dumped it along the wall, not that there was a lot of use for it; John hadn't seen it outside of the Jumper since he woke up from the concussion.

"No, I just… thought this was… I don't know. I didn't think," he concluded. Rodney shrugged it off.

"Look, are you okay? On your own? I want to get to the 'gate," he said.

"I thought you said it was going to start raining," John replied. Because no, he was not okay, and no, he didn't want Rodney to just leave him there. It wasn't the same as the other city, they had just gotten there, and in the lowlands, Rodney never left him to go on a hike, whenever he did leave. They were on a mountain; what if there was another earthquake? What if Rodney was the one who got stuck in the landslide? The rules about leaving had to be different on a cliff.

"Well, yeah, but they have the DHD protected now, remember? I can work on it whether it's raining or not," said Rodney. And there was logic to it. John was maybe being the idiot paranoiac about it. But he didn't feel all that great to start with, so he chalked it up to the headache and just nodded.

"Yeah, fine," he said. "Get us home."

So Rodney left, with Teyla, and Ronon was assigned as John's babysitter, along with Ryli and Wit. The two Coppi got along like they had never left each other’s sides, while still hissing and spitting at each other’s elected parents whenever their tumbling got them too close to one or the other, but John sat in the guest hall common room, feeling awkward on top of headachey.

He had forgotten an entire human and felt like he should apologize for that, given Rodney’s absolute assurance that Ronon was John’s other best friend. But that wasn’t exactly a comfort zone, so John didn’t say anything at all, as much as possible. For the most part, that seemed to work with Ronon, like he maybe wasn't exactly the chatty type either, until other people showed up. Then the man got opinionated and territorial.

The person who showed up was vaguely familiar, and John remembered them when Ronon said their name. It had been over a week since John had seen the Aide Provost and he had gotten used to dealing with their secretary, but Nova didn't seem too bad. Ronon still stood up to investigate the food Nova had brought along, and John noticed he hung around between them rather than near the dinner table.

Wit scuttled up to Ronon's shoulder, wings flapping as the small Coppi climbed and flew up to his preferred perch; he was still smaller than Ryli, but his wings definitely worked. Abandoned by her friend, Ryli jumped up into John's lap and sat on his knee to preen at her face. John rolled his eyes at the fact that he had become a dragon's preening couch but didn't disturb her.

"Melann reported that you were doing well," Nova said to John as they did their social duty as host. John hesitated.

"Well, I still get the headaches apparently, but it's definitely an overall improvement," he said. "I… uh, don't know how long it will take Rodney to get the 'gate fixed, but if it's going to take a few days, is there a doctor up here? I might need my head checked out again if this headache doesn't clear up."

Ronon looked over at him, eyebrow raised, but John tried to ignore it. Maybe the man was a stranger, but the face he was pulling was familiar enough, and John didn't want to poke that bear. Nova frowned at him.

"Of course. Melann is our field surgeon, and he is among the best, but here we have others, and Scholars," they said. "I will discuss it with the Regent-"

"Oh, that's- no, you don't have to do that," John cut in.

"-and we will determine if it is appropriate to inquire for a panel. Perhaps your case may be improved by helping others. There may be cause to document your care, with the assistance of our top practitioners and Scholars. The panel may provide solutions that Melann had not come across," they went on.

"I just want something to make sure I can still walk in the morning, I don't think a panel is needed for that," John replied. The answer didn't seem to change Nova's opinion at all.

"Are you sure you're well?" they asked. "Should I call to have the escort team return Dr. McKay?"

"I'll tell McKay," said Ronon, not sounding overly pleased with the situation but not apparently wanting the Cairnyth royal hierarchy interfering with the team, either.

"Look, it's just a headache from flying, it's fine," John said, trying to settle the both of them. Nova didn't seem convinced and opted to leave them to their lunch so that they could run the whole "panel" idea by the Regent. John weathered the suspicious looks from Ronon after they were left alone again.

"I'm fine," he tried, a little annoyed.

"Yeah, and you tend to say that when you're actually holey and injured, too, so sometimes you're a liar," Dex replied. John went back to trying to ignore him rather than deal with it. He wasn't actually expecting it when Ronon stopped in front of the chair, braving the dangerous chittering of a territorial baby Coppi, and shoved a bowl of food at him.

Accepting the bowl seemed mostly an act of self-defense, even though John wasn't actually hungry. Ronon dropped himself, and his own bowl of food, and the sniffing Wit along with, into the opposite chair. He handed a piece of meat to Wit before settling in to eat.

Ryli shoved her snout at John's hand, big eyes glued to the food bowl resting on his knee. It was a precarious situation with only one arm to block her with so John had to readjust and think real hard about whether he could eat or whether he should eat before she removed the option.

"You still don't remember me," Ronon said eventually.

"You talking with your mouth half full is almost familiar, but nope," said John with a nod. "I remember the gun though."

"That's because I nearly shot you with it a few times," said Ronon. The observational tone had turned smug.

"So maybe when I shot you it was self defense," John replied. He dodged Ryli's grabby paws getting into his food and tried to balance the bowl enough to start eating before she tried again.

"Technically, maybe," agreed Ronon, which John figured had to be better than the earlier promise that he was owed return fire. He was okay to sit with that in quiet for a moment. Then his annoying brain started poking at thoughts the wrong way and John made a face, couldn't get the question on his mind to leave until he asked it out loud.

"You and me… we're just friends, right?" he asked, coughing a couple of times to make sure he kept breathing, because he couldn't remember shit, and he half expected the worst out of anything that could in some way ever be "worse." Ronon just smiled broadly, the laugh threatening but contained to his eyes.

"Yeah. I think golf is stupid. You're not my type. And I'm not McKay. So I'm not yours, either," the man replied easily. "Works out great that way."

John felt his ears go pink, because how the hell did someone he didn't remember know jackshit about him and McKay? He just nodded and shoved some kind of beans and meat chilli in his mouth to keep quiet.

"But you and him… you remember him, right?" Ronon asked. John nodded and shrugged it off.

"Mostly, I just don't remember a lot of other stuff that… is him-adjacent, I guess."

Ronon had sobered but he nodded like he still approved. "He told you about the stuff with the Coppi and the Omen?"

"Eventually. When he could," John replied. It was a little surprising that Ronon was checking up on him though. "What, you think he wouldn't?"

The smug smile eased back in place. "We trust him. But you're both weird about each other, so it was about fifty-fifty. I said he'd forget, Teyla said he would remember."

"Well… you were both right," said John, and Ronon looked like he wanted to laugh out loud. Instead he chewed his lunch and smiled in between, but still wasn't backing off the whole talking thing.

"And you're okay with it?" he asked. "You were before. But you don't remember that, so…"

John shrugged. "It's Rodney. I'm fine."

"Yeah, it's Rodney. That's my point," replied Ronon. And he sounded far too knowledgeable on the topic, considering John couldn't remember who the man was. "You get weird about him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what I said. Just because you were okay with McKay in your face before doesn't mean you are now. You just said you thought I got in your face before, but you don't remember me at all, so you wouldn't be okay with it if I sat in your lap and pinned you down like McKay did a couple of weeks back," Ronon replied, blunt and sounding annoyed. John didn't remember enough about him to know how to read it, though. "And if it's gonna mess with my team, I want to know about it. I'll tell him and everybody else to back off and let you figure things out.”

“McKay doesn’t have to back off,” John grumbled at him. Ronon stared at him, hard, one eyebrow angling up like the man knew Elizabeth Weir well enough to copy her facial expressions.

“McKay has always messed with your head, since the day I met you,” Ronon said. Apparently his team knew John better than he figured they did and he scowled about it. He was some kind of an open book to his friends but couldn’t remember a damn thing about them. Ronon didn’t seem to mind the glare and kept right on talking. “Because of the stupid rules and because you're generally pretty stupid about things like that. So if you're not getting better because you're all emotionally constipated about McKay again, then we fix it, get you out of your own way."

John wasn’t sure about any emotional constipation, but he was definitely having some trouble breathing. He found a spot on the floor to glare at rather than deal with what the man was asking. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, that’s what McKay said before you came up here. Now you’re up here and you’re not, so… I call bullshit,” replied Ronon. He shook his head. “I’m going to call them back. Get this figured out.”

That yanked John’s attention back up. “Now just a minute. I thought this was my team. Not yours.”

“It is, when you’re fit. And you’re not. So it’s my team, and it’s Teyla’s, and McKay’s. We’ll figure it out when you can’t,” Ronon said. And he and Wit stood up off the couch then, presumably to go get the radio he had threatened. And it wasn’t that much of a threat, really. John wanted the people he knew to come back. It was a problem, though, because he also wanted the stargate fixed so that he could go home.

“Rodney knows I had to ask about the doc up here, it hit when we landed, so I told him. Okay? Let him finish the ‘gate. There’s nothing you guys can do anyway,” John said.

"Maybe not about your head, but we can watch your back. And if you need people out of your face, we can make that happen. As a team. All of us. Because you don't know me and I don't trust you," replied Ronon. And that seemed fair, even if the man was very growly about it.

The stupid thing was that, whether he remembered Ronon or not, he trusted Rodney and Teyla's assurances that the big grump was on his team. And John wanted to trust himself to know who to let on that team when the balance of it were two people he considered family. He wouldn't have brought Ronon on unless he trusted him. But John couldn't prove that at the moment.

The whole situation was like a new level of hell. He was stuck relying on people he didn't know. He knew his team, maybe, but he couldn't remember so much, all he had to go on was instinct, feelings, no matter how long they said he had known them. The experience counted for a lot, and his had been cut down.

So he didn't argue when Ronon radioed Rodney. He accidentally passed out in the chair, probably spilled food and didn't know it because he hadn't eaten much. When he woke up, Ryli was curled up in front of his face with her fuzzy mane tickling his nose and her wing over his head. It was darker and the windows were being rained on, noisy. The pressure in his head was trying to split just over his left ear but it was probably still in one piece.

"Sheppard’s passed out. You have to wait for McKay," said Ronon's voice, somewhere in the room but not close. "The Coppi won't let you near him. McKay's the only one who can fix that."

And whoever he was talking to seemed to accept the logic. John nudged at Ryli and she gnawed at his nose without teeth in retaliation, but she tucked her chin over his, still hidden under her wing. Not that John was hiding from the medical care he had asked for because Nova wanted to get specialists involved, but mostly because he didn't want Ronon to go growling at him again until Rodney showed up to hide behind.

He grayed out again, awake but not awake, aware but not aware, and the consistent note between stages was Ronon’s voice. He was angry but not loud, so maybe just annoyed, John couldn’t tell from his hazy state. He remembered the man kicking his ass in the gym, saw it clearly, a memory not a dream. He remembered morning runs with Ronon taunting him to run faster, shake it off, old man, or he’d break into the office and hide the RC’s so John would have to actually focus.

“What’d he mean you sent him back to the docs?” Ronon wanted to know and John stopped running to hide around the corner of the bridge rather than go near any more doctors.

“What- I didn’t- When?” Rodney’s voice was blurry and John couldn’t figure out if he was remembering or dreaming. Dreaming meant he could still sleep, though, so he was a fan of that idea instead of the sharp pain pressing against the left side of his head.

“He said it the other day, on the radio, and you said he was better but now there’s this,” Ronon said.

“That was a joke! We… look, he messed around and had to get medicine afterwards but that’s not this, this is from flying-”

"You're sure this isn't your fault?"

"I wasn't here!"

"You can't mess around with somebody who can't see straight, McKay. You're gonna mess them up," said Ronon. "And if it's you, and it's him, count on double the problems-"

"Ronon!" Oh, and there was Teyla, in John's head, arguing along with the other two. Great. The nightmares were back.

"Not this again," complained Rodney.

"You didn't listen the first time, so yeah, this again," said Ronon.

"You do not know that, Ronon. I understand you are worried, but this is unnecessary."

"And I listened!"

"Then why isn't he better?"

"Because the landslide didn't exactly pull any punches on the way down," said Rodney. John remembered the trail out to the ocean disappearing under his feet.

"Ronon, what is wrong? You said we needed to return, we are here…Why?"

"He asked for the doctors, and he can't see them without McKay."

"You were here."

"Rules. They wouldn't listen to me if they decided something. He trusts you for that. You have to be here for it."

"Okay."

"And he trusts you for everything else, too. So don't screw it up."

"I'm not!" Rodney returned. "And even if I was, he would tell me. He doesn't need you defending his virtue or whatever this is."

"This is my team. Anybody who screws around with that hears about it. Including the dumbasses on it," Ronon shot back.

"Oh, come on. He's got a girl in every port. I've never seen you go after any of them."

"Rodney. How many of them has he ever gone back to?" Teyla asked.

"He doesn't see anyone. Just us. And you," said Ronon. “And the giraffe.”

How the hell did Ronon know what a giraffe was? Somewhere in John's fuzzy sleep logic, he realized he was being talked about, even if he wasn’t sure it was real. There was a hard rejection of that idea. He was asleep, so it was all in his head, and the smart thing would have been to put an end to it. But he was asleep.

He felt a weight pounce on his leg and then crawl up to his chest, curl up at his shoulder. Ryli-weight settled in against the right side of his face, the raspy purr rumbling against his cheek as she set her head over his neck and wing over his forehead. Like she did when he was passed out. All he had to do was find a new memory to sleep to.

He must have dropped off again because the next thing he was aware of was Ryli's perturbed squawk as she was pulled away. A damp-looking Rodney loomed over him, holding Ryli under the arms like a ragdoll and snugged up at his chest so he could free up a hand. The man then felt John's forehead like a fever was the problem. John blinked at him, tried to sit up before the chaos would follow.

"You still have the headache?" Rodney wanted to know. John scrunched his nose and took stock. His arm and shoulder hurt from having fallen asleep wrong in a couch a little lacking for stuffing, and his head still felt like it was trying to fit into the wrong sized container.

"I mean, you're not blurry or anything, but I'm not walking anywhere for a while," he said. Rodney frowned at him, started to give him Ryli back but then changed his mind.

"No, you need to see someone. She'll just be trouble," he said, distracted.

"Told you," added Ronon from where he stood at the end of the couch. "Nova got somebody earlier, but Ryli wouldn't have let anyone near him."

So they waited for Nova to bring back the new doctor, who took more scans and then disappeared just like Melann would do. Rodney did a lot of brow-furrowing and frowny faces, but John didn't have anything new to add to the laundry list of injuries. His head hurt, he was cranky, and he would really prefer to not be around anyone, but passing out on the couch had removed that as an option entirely.

"Tomorrow if I go out earlier, before the rain, I should have more luck with the 'gate," Rodney reported when John asked. It was an ineffective effort at distraction from the fact that John had become the focus of his entire team's attention just by existing. Ryli hissed at them for it, a helpful little brat, but then she got paranoid and jumped off his lap to go run in big circles around the room and down the hall. She thunked into a closed door amid a flurry of nail-scratching on stone tile, so her brakes didn't work any better on the rougher floors than they did on the shiny, smooth tile at the other place.

"So we'll be home tomorrow, assuming they didn't lock up the shield and change our codes," John said.

"Assuming you're some form of… transportable, maybe," replied Rodney. It was John's turn to scowl at him.

"If we can leave, we leave," he said. "I'm fine. Starting to smell like fish."

"No you don't, you just showered yesterday. I have the scars from Ryli to prove it," muttered Rodney, rubbing at his arm at the reminder.

"That's not- I mean, we're overstaying our welcome here. Guests and fish start to stink after three days and we're way over that. And I want to go home. I mentioned that part, right?" John said

"Then figure out how to walk a straight line without a wall and we'll talk," said Rodney. He waved a hand in the general direction of John's head. "No falling. No tripping. I'd say if we have to, Ronon can carry you, but I don't think the Regent would allow it."

"I won't allow it," returned John. "I'll walk to the Jumper. I already did that."

"Flying obviously isn't a great idea for you," said Rodney.

"It will get me home. Carson can sort out the rest," John replied.

Rodney didn't like the outlook, however, and he liked it even less when Nova and the doctor returned with the report from the scans. There was noticeable inflammation around the old injury, not a significant difference but enough to be concerned about. They didn't have any scans to compare it to, to know if it was any different than it had been in the lowlands.

"It may be the change in elevation, or the atmospheric pressure from our storms," said the new guy. "Or it may just be the nature of your injury, but we won't know without more testing and time, of course. In the meantime, you responded well to the medicines before, so we can try them again."

That, of course, was all John wanted in the first place, and he didn't have anything to say when the doctor dragged out the big needles again. Two shots later and he was oblivious to his aching head and arm and asleep in the bedroom he didn't remember from before.

He woke up in the pitch black room, no windows, and everything was quiet. Even Ryli was all but silent, breathing but not snoring. She had her wings out, the rest of her wedged between John and Rodney, at their shoulders. And John had Rodney's whole arm pulled into his space, not just his hand, though he had possession of that, too. Rodney was on his stomach and had draped his arm over John's stomach, so John had his left arm looped enough to hold him there and the fingers of his right hand tangled with Rodney's. He was warm and comfortable and went back to sleep.

Rodney woke him up when he left later. Or, rather, Ryli did, because she was not at all on board with the fact that Rodney had closed a door between her and him. She still had to be distracted in order to allow one of her humans to disappear, and Rodney was not exactly stealthy. Her screeching for Rodney at the door was enough to threaten what was left of John's sanity after two weeks of headaches and he woke up to let her out.

Rodney was smart enough to catch the Coppi that launched at him in the common room rather than let her claw her way up his back. John squinted at them from the hall, only half dressed and not caring because he didn't know where the damn lights were in the bedroom to do anything about it.

"I can't take her with me to work on the DHD," Rodney complained.

"Shoulda been smarter about sneaking out then," replied John. Rodney glared at him and John shrugged it off. "So we take the Jumper. We all go."

"You're not flying."

"I'm still on whatever they gave me. I can fly. I just can't drive," said John.

It eventually worked, but Teyla had to talk Rodney and Ronon into trying it. And then Nova and the Regent had to be convinced. But if there was a chance at getting the 'gate working, at just going home, it was deemed a worthwhile risk, as opposed to the delays and the rains they would be fighting with in a few hours.

Just to be safe, though, the doctor went with them, and the escort group left on their funky hoith beasts and would catch up to them at the stargate. John was given another shot when they got to the Jumper and he passed out in the chair behind Rodney's, with Ryli tucked in his coat and happily quiet, not yelling at them for leaving her behind.

When he woke up, the Jumper gate was open and the sunlight coming in kept the lights off. The ship was empty and John's head was doing a fairly good imitation of it, occupying an echoing space aside from the pinging of rain on the outside shell. The ache was still there, stuffy and threatening, but the splitting pain had backed off. Curious, John stood up and looked out the front window. All he saw was the open sky and a dead drop into the pointed tops of green tree canopy. Not ideal. Definitely not in a place where there were earthquakes.

"Rod-neyyy…" he called out slowly, as loud as he dared around his own brain. A moment later there was a scrabbling of claws on metal as Ryli ran up the ramp. She was soaking wet, and muddy, and thoroughly enthusiastic about it. Her chattering croaking noises made it clear that she liked the rain and she wanted to tell him about it. John scooped her up under the arms before she could share the muddy claws, too. She hung limp up against his chest, draped over his good arm, and continued her clicking noises. They walked back to the door, but John stayed off the gate because of the rain he could now feel and see as well as hear.

He kept his cast angled away from the damp and looked out at the camp that had been made around the stargate. The Jumper was parked on a cliff because the stargate wasn't that far from a wall of stone as the mountain went further up. It probably wasn't the most inconvenient place they had ever found a 'gate, the middle of space still took top prize on that one as far as John could remember, but it was all very cramped, with huge trees framing the area around the 'gate and making it not much bigger than the gateroom at home. He could see the trail off down to the castle, but it wasn't paved or clearly defined through the mud. Just mud and rocks and trees.

The stargate had the usual platform, but that had a big crack along one side and split unevenly along what had been a ramp. It now had a covering of some kind of wood frame and tree boughs, like it was protection for curing the repairs, against the weather. Weird, pointy-faced horses were tied off around the trees that helped keep the DHD protected. They looked like someone had squashed an antelope and a horse and an anteater all into one animal, and John stood across a clearing from them, holding a baby dragon, and still somehow massively weirded out by the funky looking horses.

A pavilion had been made, it looked like from the same stuff as the framework over the stargate platform, to cover the DHD. It was off to the side, across from where the Jumper was parked. Rodney and Teyla were crouched in front of the DHD, which looked like it was surrounded by stone pavers or something that looked equally uncomfortable to be kneeling on, while Ronon and some other guy John didn't automatically recognize leaned on the tall back of the dial, obviously hard at work. John wasn't exactly one to talk. Nova and the doctor they had brought along chatted not far away, and the escort guards had found places to loiter and mostly stay dry, so the covering they had built for the DHD was plenty big enough to do the job.

But John didn't like the cast getting wet, it couldn't handle it, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was the weak paper-pulp cast deteriorating any further than it already had. So he set Ryli down on the ramp to let her run back out into the rain, and retreated to the front of the ship again. He had a radio through the Jumper; it was safer than the rain.

"How's it going out there?" he asked.

"Hey, sleepyhead's awake," said Ronon, with the appropriate amount of sarcasm. The kid was annoying and John liked him, when he wasn't otherwise busy being intimidated by the fact that he didn't know the guy.

"For the moment," he replied.

"You could have kept Ryli," Rodney complained.

"Now, I'm sure she just wants to help," said John. He could practically hear the glare.

"She's a baby dragon. How could you possibly know that? We're literally expected to train her to destroy things," Rodney argued.

"Yeah, that's not happening," muttered John. Louder, he tried to redirect. "The 'gate, Rodney. How are things going with the 'gate?"

"As well as can be expected when the board snapped and I can't exactly solder it back together again, even assuming I had the tools," Rodney said, sounding about as annoyed as could be expected under those circumstances.

"So we're not going home?"

"I didn't say that, did I?"

John turned the chair around to glare out the back of the Jumper even though his smartass team wasn't actually in view. "I have the Jumper all to myself and I'm sure I'd be fine once I got into space and could set some kind of autopilot to get me home."

"Sure, in about five hundred years, give or take, depending on whether the Daedalus or the Wraith found the ship first," returned Rodney. "But I'm sure your head hurts and your math skills are a little fuzzy at the moment. So just to shortcut this for you, the board can't be put back together but the connections can be repaired, which is what Teyla and I are doing, so if Ryli would stop clawing me in the ass to climb on me then we could probably be home in an hour. Give or take."

"Well, you should have led with that. I can't go get her, so you should bring her here, and then I will do my best to keep her from clawing you in the ass," replied John.

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it's raining out there," Rodney pointed out. And John just waited rather than dignify yet another jab at his intelligence.

"Don't look at me. Neither of them like me right now," came Ronon's voice. John might have argued that but Teyla beat him to it.

"That is not true. In a few months, the imprint will fade and she will be just fine with you. And I do not believe the Colonel will take that long, either," she said. John wasn't sure if her point had been exactly helpful to his defense, but he rolled with it.

"Fine. Give me a minute," said Rodney's voice again. It took him a few more than that but he did bring the Coppi back to the Jumper.

"Here," he said, holding her over to John. "Now that I'm wet."

John had used his time wisely waiting for them and found rags to wipe her feet and tail and face with to get rid of the worst of the mud. He let Rodney hold her up while he fought with that project one-handed. He had even planned ahead and armed himself with the treat bag for when Rodney left, and he was feeling pretty proud of himself as Rodney impatiently helped clean the gruntled Coppi. He was distracted though, by Rodney and his rained-on pout, and glanced up at him.

"We're really home in an hour?" he asked. Rodney nodded.

"Easily," he replied. That was good news and bad news, though not exactly equal parts. John stalled on taking Ryli back, instead leaned around her just enough to press into Rodney's space and kiss him. He had to get it out of his system while he still could, but he didn't want to keep Rodney from the important work of actually getting them home in order to do it, either. Rodney met him on the kiss, his fingers clutched at John's jacket as Ryli chattered at them about being pinned in.

"What was that for?" he asked when John eased back enough to start tugging Ryli into his jacket. John shrugged.

"Just… thanks."

"Well, I haven't actually gotten anything working yet," Rodney pointed out. That wasn't exactly true but John wasn't going to get into it. He shrugged again, distracted himself with getting Ryli settled into the funny dragon-sized pocket created by the weird cut of the jacket with all the buttons. He bribed her with some of the bug jerky and she settled in to bite at him easier.

"You'll get it," he replied. "Just get it done before the rain shoves the ship off the cliff or something, would be good."

Rodney grumbled at him for the dig but went in for another kiss instead of saying anything about it. John kept Ryli distracted with food when he left and there was no trouble when he closed the bulkhead door to keep her from running back out into the rain.

It took Rodney another forty minutes to get the 'gate finished, but by the time he showed up to test it, John and Ryli were both asleep in the chair behind the pilot's seat again.

Chapter Text

The wiring seemed sound. Rodney tried a few random addresses on the DHD itself and each one connected and held, though he didn't have a MALP to send through and make sure it worked. The connection closed when he told it to, each time. They had a working 'gate and a solid way home. But Rodney didn't dial Atlantis from the big repaired dais under the custom-built Pagoda. It was mostly old paranoia, but he was quite aware of the number of Cairnythian eyes watching his every move, and he wasn't sure he wanted to pass out their home phone number just yet.

It had stopped raining, which was useful, so Rodney excused himself from the celebrations with a "Not so fast. Just one more test…" and headed for the Jumper. Teyla and Ronon stayed behind, a useful distraction to keep the Regent and Aide Provost from following after. On the way, Rodney looked up at the sky and saw the sun instead of clouds, stayed happily dry for the whole walk in the mud to get to the open gate of the Jumper. That would have been nice when he had taken Ryli back to John, but he had certainly survived worse.

The door was closed when he got inside and things were quiet, so John apparently had better luck at entertaining the dragon than Rodney ever did. The sight that greeted him in the front of the ship was further proof of that; John slumped in his chair, soundly asleep, and Ryli curled up in his jacket with her head sticking out to drape over his arm. She chirped at Rodney. He shushed at her but leaned in to scratch at her forehead. Then he turned his attention to the dialing console on the dashboard and started locking in the address for Atlantis. It dialed and connected and held. Rather than close this one, though, Rodney left it open and sent out a radio call.

"Wait, what?" John asked behind him, blurry-voiced. Rodney looked back at him, then leaned slightly into his space to kiss the scruffy jaw while John still tried to figure out what he was hearing.

"We've got the stargate working. Now we find out if they remember who we are," Rodney told him. John woke up a little at that, sat a little straighter in his chair. Ryli yawned and the groggy human who held her had to fight off echoing her. Rodney hailed the other side of the 'gate again and tried to open a video signal as extra proof that the call was legitimate. A moment later, the screen in front of them faded the view of the valley out toward the distant ocean and popped up a view of Elizabeth Weir. The crease on her brow said she was concerned.

"Rodney?" she asked, sounding very doubtful.

"It's us, Elizabeth. Well, me and John, anyway. Teyla and Ronon are with us, watching the stargate," Rodney replied.

"Oh thank god. The Daedalus is still two weeks away, and we haven't been able to dial your location for-"

"Yes, I know. The stargate here is located on a damn mountain and was taken out by an earthquake. It took us this long to get it going again," Rodney said quickly.

"My fault," offered John. Not that he was wrong, but he was wrong, and Rodney frowned at him. Elizabeth paid attention too.

"What? How?" she asked.

"Earthquake. I got caught in a whatsit… landslide," said John. "It took this long for me to get mobile again. And Rodney had to stay with me until I could."

"Well, are you alright? Do we need to send Carson-"

"No, he's not okay, but we're just going to go home," said Rodney. "We've got the 'gate back. We can finish sorting things out with the Regent later, or send another team. The Colonel's dealing with head trauma that's already gone too long without proper care-"

"They did what they could, McKay," grumbled John. "I'm not dead."

"They could be quacks for all we know and we need to get you back to where we have a comparable standard and can sort out what's going on," returned Rodney. John nodded and shrugged.

"I'm not gonna argue, I'm just saying I'm not dead, here," he replied.

"And you can't fly. So get your ass up and walk it through the stargate already," Rodney said. The order was accompanied by Rodney standing up from his lean against the console to point John's attention to the open doors that led outside. John glared at him for bossing him. On the screen, Elizabeth crossed her arms as a smirk tugged at her lips.

"I see the marriage is going well," she observed.

"It's fine," John replied, even as Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Swimmingly. He's just slept through most of it," he said. John shrugged again and stood up. At least he wasn't moving like an old man anymore and his balance seemed fine. Rodney still watched him leave to be sure he didn't trip on the ramp. Ryli chattered as they walked away and once they were outside she appeared on his shoulder to stare up at the sun. Her chattering turned into her version of a barking scolding and John wavered as he pulled her down from his shoulder to make the noise stop.

"What the hell was that?" Elizabeth asked, dragging Rodney's attention back. He sighed.

"That was a dragon yelling at the sun," he said. "Apparently she prefers the rain."

"Are you really bringing a dragon back to Atlantis?" Elizabeth asked, scrunching her nose up uncertainly at the prospect. "I realize we need allies but we also very much need our city to remain intact and our people safe…"

"She'll be fine…" Rodney hesitated as he realized Elizabeth had likely missed an important piece of information. He straightened up a little, self-conscious and paranoid. "We're actually bringing back two of them…"

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "What? I thought that was a hypothetical..."

"Well, see, they're social, for one thing, and for another, Ryli's not exactly a prime specimen, so they insisted on replacing her with one that isn't… damaged. It's… well. It's a mess. But they are really cute and not actually a lot of trouble, so far-"

"So far," Elizabeth echoed for very careful emphasis. "And you can guarantee me that will remain the case?"

"I can guarantee you that you will love them, and that we're going home, because John needs the care more than we need to argue about this here and now," Rodney said, as absolutely diplomatically as he could manage with his friend just then. He missed her and he missed home and he wanted to sleep in his own bed before worrying about the actual logistics of keeping dragons on Atlantis. Elizabeth let out a sigh and nodded.

"The shield is down. Come through any time, and I'll put Carson on stand-by," she said. Rodney acknowledged that with a nod and killed the connection to go make sure the others knew the way home was clear.

He wasn't expecting to walk out to see Ronon going for one of the Regent's escort guards with one of his more dangerous aggressive kicks. John started shouting ignored orders as he was pulled back from the fray that quickly started forming around the fight Ronon had started and Teyla was blocked off from joining in. Rodney ran towards the portico.

"What the hell- knock it off! Ronon!" he shouted. Ronon ignored him and landed another blow on a hapless guard as two more jumped him from behind. Wit scrambled around in the mud, hissing and barking, and ran between the legs of the men blocking Teyla. The Coppi climbed up and clung to the messenger bag that was his portable nest until Teyla was able to scoop him inside. Rodney was blocked from getting too close by Nova catching his arm.

"Stay away!" John ordered from twenty feet away, the Colonel looking almost like himself and very pissed off from behind three guards of his own. Rodney looked between them all, confused, and backed up into his own space. Ronon was shoved into the dirt and stepping stone under the portico and a guard removed his gun from him.

"Hey! Not yours-" Rodney began but he got distracted from the apparent arrest by the fact that the Regent and Aide Provost weren't stopping it. He looked between the two. "What the hell happened? Things were fine. I was gone for five minutes…"

"Things are still well under control, Dr. McKay, but I don't approve of the plan to take Colonel Sheppard through the Disk," said the Regent. He stared Rodney down, like he for some reason had any claim at all to authority over John's care. "He was injured on my soil and I am ultimately responsible for seeing he gets the treatment he needs. Your ship only made him worse, and the Disk could cause further irreparable harm. He will not be allowed through it until he is returned to health."

"Are you kidding- our doctors can heal him," Rodney argued, waving beyond Teyla toward the big blue watery disk inviting them with every reflected flash of light from the sun. "All he has to do is walk through the 'gate, okay? They are waiting for him, I just talked to our people, our medical team is right there!"

The Regent shrugged. "Then they are welcome to come here and treat him. But we do not send wounded through the Disk. The Colonel is not an exception. We will not risk his health when his injuries were obtained on our soil."

"No one blames you for the injuries, Regent," Teyla broke in, much calmer than Rodney could manage just then. "We all know your people have done everything to help him, and the rest of us. And you have our respect for this. Your people had your own recoveries to make yet you still prioritized our team and that did not go unnoticed."

"Exactly, Teyla. We have invested much in the Colonel's care, and in good faith toward an alliance between our people. To risk it now would be beyond foolish and I won't allow it," said the Regent. He waved toward the stargate. "So as I said, bring your doctors through the Disk as necessary, our Scholars will work with them. But he will not be allowed through until he is healed. That is the final word on the matter."

"I'm going home," said John, stepping forward despite the people in his way. Ryli hissed and lashed out at them with one clawed hand as the others latched into John's jacket on his shoulder. Everything was a goddamn mess and on top of it the Coppi who had started it all was now trying to get her two-week-old self shipped to the butchers again. She was better armed than John was at the moment, however, so Rodney wasn't surprised when John didn't reach to stop her.

"I have a say in my own damn care and I am healthy enough to walk through the 'gate," John went on.

"No. And if you attempt to go around your escorts, the Coppi will be removed from you. You will not be harmed but there will be no arguments on this," said the Regent. The threat against Ryli actually had John backing up from the men blocking him.

"Maybe you didn't hear me," Rodney said, speaking louder even though he stood close enough to the Regent to be heard. "I said they are expecting us. They are waiting, right now. You can't just keep us here."

"The Regent is not suggesting that, Doctor. The rest of you are perfectly healthy and would obviously survive the effects of the Disk, but you can't say the same for the Colonel, so he will not be allowed to go through," said Nova, their tone carefully quiet. They seemed nervous but were otherwise behaving like the Regent's suggestion was perfectly reasonable. They caught Rodney's arm again and waved him toward the line of agitated hoith tied among the trees. "I believe I have a compromise, Dr. McKay. If you will accompany me, I can show you my thinking."

Rodney looked across at John who was very clearly giving him the warning look of "Don't you dare." But Rodney felt blindsided by the entire thing; everything had been fine, they had been on their way home, and now they had a problem. And he didn't have all the information because he had been in the Jumper, setting everything up. It should have gone flawlessly, the stargate waited for them thirty yards away, and the Regent pulled out the unknown. So when Nova dangled the carrot of that missing information, Rodney nodded and followed them and the Regent.

John started swearing about it and walked to catch up to them. His guards followed after, but Teyla and Ronon were kept under the portico by the guards with them. Ronon hadn't even been allowed to stand up, but the state of the kid's knees was the last thing on Rodney's list of things to worry about just then.

"I'm listening so start talking," Rodney said to Nova as they walked. John was allowed to catch up to them and Ryli quickly jumped over to Rodney's shoulder. Not that it made his life any easier just then but at least it was a slight assurance that she wouldn't be in the danger zone if John's flaring temper led to something stupid, like the injured man trying to start another fight.

"The reconstruction of the platform for the Disk revealed an area that looked to have housed a computer similar to that of the dialing pedestal," Nova explained. And it wasn't unheard of; the pedestal for the command chair and other devices in the Milky Way had additional control computers built in, redundancies that Rodney had fought with many times.

"Well, obviously you were able to repair it before I got here, because the stargate is working fine. We just talked to Atlantis," he said, impatient. Nova nodded their head.

"The significance of this area was that it illustrated an installation point. And when we showed it to Teyla, she hypothesized that the installation feature was likely for the power source you referred to as a Zed pea emm."

That news made Rodney stop in his tracks. He replayed pictures in his mind of every connection he had seen inside the DHD platform but the necessary crystal forms weren't there and he was confident that the stargate was not currently capable of the range that the Atlantis 'gate could reach. But it had the ability to plug in a ZPM, so with the right connections, they maybe had another wormhole home. Or at least a stargate capable of getting them to yet another galaxy.

And that, infuriatingly enough, made the relationship with the Cairnyth that much more useful in the long run. He just wished they weren't so damn annoying. John bumped his shoulder and the two moved to catch up with Nova and Wes.

"Okay. That means that the platform has the ability to power the stargate independently of the DHD," Rodney said, translating more for John's benefit than for their hosts' information.

"Yes, well, the Disk is not our area of interest, as I've said before," Nova replied.

"And this particular installation point provided us with significant proof that you, Dr. McKay, are quite knowledgeable about the Disks, and the actual crevice within the computer itself provided insight into what this power source you went rambling on about actually looked like," said Wes. They arrived at one of the hoith then and the Regent stood back as Nova went digging through the leather saddle pack on the animal's flank. They pulled out a ZPM. An actual ZPM, the familiar faint glow making Rodney's eyes widen.

"With more to go on than your verbal description, our Scholars were able to identify this. And we had it brought up in case it became necessary for repairs," Nova said. "But it has been a lamp in the Sanctuary of Scholars for generations. No one knew it as a power source. None of our technology is as old as this."

"So you have no use for it," said John. He had calmed down, but he was squinting at them in a way Rodney recognized to indicate the headache had flared up when the Colonel got angry about the attack on his team. "If it's that old and you didn't know about it, none of your technology uses it."

"Correct, Colonel Sheppard," said the Regent, with that wide, charming smile that Rodney didn't trust. "And, as your partner has explained at length, Atlantis relies on a power source such as this. So it would do your people more good than it could mine."

"From what I've seen, that's a fair assessment," replied John. Rodney didn't like where the entire situation put the balance of power between the injured Colonel and the Cairnyth Regent suddenly.

"As I said, I would suggest a compromise," said Nova. They lifted the ZPM toward Rodney but did not hand it over. "As a proof of our intentions and offering of good faith, we would give you this power source. Upon the acceptable condition that the Colonel remains here, until he is well and healed, rather than risk further injury through the Disk or in your ships. Our people will not be further responsible for harm of a friendly ambassador and the Regent and Her Majesty have been quite clear on this."

"Define healed," replied John, because the Colonel was obviously considering it. Rodney had been, too, until the man opened his mouth. No. They weren't being bullied into forfeiting John for a ZPM. It was only temporary… but no.

"Mental injuries are nothing to trifle with, John," said the Regent, apparently forgetting that John didn't remember their previous conversations. "If you are transported through the Disk, the injury to your mind may never heal. That is our primary concern."

"Look, I'm no expert, but it could take months for me to remember anything, if I ever do," John said. "I'm fine with that, that's how it is."

"And should it take months, you and your partner would be welcome here. But you would not be permitted through the Disk," replied the Regent. He set a hand on the ZPM. "We understand your reluctance. This is our proof. We are looking out for our allies' interests."

Rodney very much doubted that but John was somehow more of an idiot than he had been before and he nodded before Rodney could disagree.

"Fine. I'll stay. Rodney and the ZPM will send my doc back and somebody will figure something out," John said, decision apparently made. Rodney stared over at him around a dragon, jaw slack and words momentarily gone. Nova offered him the ZPM and Rodney took it quickly, more a conditioned response than anything fully aware.

"Excuse me?" he finally managed. John reached to collect Ryli.

"Take the team. Take the ZPM. Go home. Come back with Carson," said John. "But I keep Ryli. I can try to train her here. Gives me something to do, huh Ryles..."

Rodney tried but he had no reasonable argument against what John was agreeing to. They had risked their lives too many times for a ZPM to just walk away from one that was handed to them. There happened to be a catch to the arrangement, but it wasn't, on its face, a life-threatening one.

"Fine," said Rodney. He looked to the Regent and Nova. "But Specialist Dex stays with him when I'm not here."

"Works for me," added John. And the two Cairnyth representatives had no arguments, either, providing Ronon didn't hurt anyone else. They walked back to the portico with Rodney hugging a ZPM and John hugging a dragon. Rodney felt static, too many things at once for him to isolate; he was mad at the asinine assumption that the stargate would damage John and mad at John for agreeing to the condition but also low-level ecstatic that he was carrying a ZPM that hadn't been used as anything but a lamp for hundreds of years… there had to be power there, it had to be worth it. But it was still John, damn it.

Ronon was let up to his feet again, he and Teyla both staring at the ZPM.

"Teyla and Rodney will take the Jumper home, Ronon and I will stay here for now," said John. He looked right at Ronon then. "And it's my team right now, Rodney's on board, so don't give me any crap about it."

Ronon scoffed at that but he nodded acceptance of it. He also marched over and took his gun back from the guard who had removed it. Rodney hovered in John's space as the team headed for the Jumper, anxious and thoroughly unhappy with the arrangements.

They had already lost access to the 'gate once. It could happen again. They could be leaving John and Ronon there for months just for that fact alone. One earthquake and they were locked out.

But if Carson could get together the right gear... the man was a surgeon, he had to know more than the local yocals, so maybe John would heal faster with the right care… and then Atlantis could have him back, while it operated on the security of two ZPMs.

Rodney almost had himself talked around to it by the time they hit the Jumper ramp. He could live with it if he had to but he would work to fix it. But then John kissed him goodbye, right there in front of their team and the royals and their guards. And Rodney kissed him back and it was not the chaste exchange he had moments earlier seen between Teyla and Ronon.

"What was that for?" he asked, too stuck on the absolute failure of having to leave half his team behind. John smiled at him.

"Because I can," he said. And Rodney wanted a do-over suddenly because that was not fair. He knew then with clear certainty that even Carson's abilities were going to take too long.

The rain stopping didn't help stop John's head from hurting. It made it worse, if anything, because now it was brighter out and he was stuck. If it had kept raining, there might have been at least one sliver of owned-territory John could have hung on to; if their argument really was that he had to stay with them for his own benefit, it wouldn't work out so clean if staying meant walking in the rain and his cast turning to mush for the effort.

Instead, it was dry, and he wanted the ZPM for Atlantis, so he had to stand by and watch as Rodney and Teyla loaded up in the ship. It required some juggling to keep Ryli from realizing that Rodney had gone inside the ship without them, and John literally hid behind Ronon to block the view and distract her as it happened. And then the ship was lifting away and through the stargate a moment later.

John was angry, which just made his head hurt worse. He wanted to be done with this place and these people, to go home and make sure that Atlantis really was the place he remembered. Elizabeth seemed like herself on the screen, what he saw of the city around her looked like what he remembered of it, but that wasn't experiencing the place for himself, putting places with faces and names and filling in the holes that he couldn't when he sat in a damn castle staring out a window at places he had never seen before. The best he had to work with instead was a friend he couldn't remember but who he was pretty confident liked to shoot first and ask questions later.

He also didn't mind that his trigger-happy friend Ronon was armed. John's gear had just disappeared with the Jumper. At least one of them could put up a solid defense if they needed it. Not that John didn't trust the excuse that the Regent was looking out for his health, but he definitely didn't trust a word of it. He was just stuck with it until they figured out a way around it.

When the stargate connection blinked closed, the guards shadowing John moved off to collect the weird-looking hoith and left him alone with Ronon and the Cairnyth Regent. The doctor who had come along, supposedly as a help, crept in from the edges like a guilty dog who had been busted digging up the garden.

"Thank you for seeing reason, Colonel," the doctor offered up. John didn't bother to hide his annoyance. He coaxed Ryli down off his shoulder and tucked her into his jacket, buttoning it up to hide her.

"I dunno how reasonable it really was. We've never had trouble getting our injured through the stargates before, so I'm here because we agreed to it," he told the doctor. His attention shifted to the Regent. "Where I come from, we call that kinda trick a dick move, by the way. You threatened the Omen…"

"The Omen returned with Teyla," the Regent replied, shaking his head. He motioned toward John's jacket. "This Coppi you have adopted at your own choice. And she is under no threat, she would just be easier to contain than you, in your present condition."

"I'm aware enough of my condition, and while I appreciate the concern, I promise you this is a lot more trouble than it's worth," John said. He made a mental note to ask Ronon for an explanation on the Coppi-thing later because he felt like he should have had a clue about that detail before he opened his mouth. Assuming he could remember the mental note when he had the chance to ask about it.

In the meantime, he was pissed off and he was hurt and the Regent had already breached polite diplomacy, so John planned to bitch enough to make the man change his mind about not letting him use the stargate. "And for the record, walking through the Disk doesn't hurt, but walking all the way back now is going to suck."

"That's why you'll ride," said the Regent.

"I grew up riding," replied John. "And you know what I learned? That you can fall off, or get kicked off. If I can't walk through the Disk or fly in my ship, I shouldn't be riding."

"You're a good rider. You were fine before, you'll do fine today," came the reply. The Regent stared at him, narrowed his eyes curiously. "You were not this intentionally annoying before, however."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason I get along with McKay," John said, annoyed at the call-out on top of everything else. The snort of amusement from Ronon didn't help, either, and John ignored him. "You wanted me here, fine, I'm still here. Bad attitude and all. I can't exactly sleep it off on the ride home."

"Complain all you need to, Colonel. When your mind has the opportunity to heal, you will appreciate today's decision," replied the Regent. That wasn't likely, but John was distracted from being intentionally annoying by the return of his guards and the various hoith. It quickly became evident that they had animals to spare for John and the doctor, like the extra two were planned for on the return trip, despite the fact that the doctor had ridden in the ship on the way up. Ronon, however, was left to walk, as there weren't enough hoith. John's head was fuzzy and he wasn't sure what to make of the obvious forethought but it didn't settle well.

Riding was not easy at all, John discovered, and he spent most of his effort trying to just stay in the weird saddle. He had to take Ryli out of his jacket and let her run along with them. Her human was struck by nauseating dizziness trying to align with the movement of the hoith and the jarring impact it had on his spine and ribs and skull.

Sheppard made it about halfway to the city before he passed out again, and if Ronon hadn't been walking alongside and guiding the hoith for him, John would have fallen to the ground on his broken arm and really screwed everything up. Instead he woke up in his room in the Cairnyth guest hall, in the dark aside from the light thrown by the open doors. Ryli curled up at his shoulder with her head stretched out across his collar. It was annoyingly familiar when John pieced together how he had gotten there and remembered why he wasn't at home.

He found Ronon out in the main room, the one with the walls of bookshelves and a whole wall of windows that showed darkness outside. Dex sat at the dining table with a stack of books and a half-empty plate of food.

"Hey," John greeted, more of a croak. He was still blurry. Ryli trotted out, rested and hyper and ready to zoom, but John would not be joining her in her joy. Ronon didn't seem likely, either.

"Since when do you read?" John asked, experimentally poking at bears who he trusted as team. Ronon arched an eyebrow at him and sat back in his chair.

"Since we've been stuck in a library waiting on you for two weeks," he replied. Ronon tossed the book he was reading to the table, in John's general direction.

"We got played," he reported. That wasn't exactly surprising, in the broader context of what John recalled of their trip so far, but he moved to the book to see what had set Ronon off. Nothing was actually legible on the open page, however, every word written in some alien language. He looked back up at Ronon.

"I can't read this. What-"

"The whole Omen thing. Yeah, it exists. It's real. But it takes years of trade to set up," Ronon said. He pointed at the book in front of John. "It's in this book off the shelves over there, and another one I found about Sateda. They had regular ceremonies to establish the Omen with Sateda, once every generation or so. It was to keep the whole trade thing going. The bullshit he gave us the first night we were here? That's not how it's done. It's in their own stories."

"I don't remember the bullshit," John pointed out, trying to keep up when he was literally missing the conversational piece that had started it all. That seemed like a bad detail to accidentally wipe from the memory banks suddenly.

"He told us the Omen had to be arranged before we left. And he wasn't happy when we weren't available for it," said Ronon. "I think the thing with the Coppi was just… they made it up. And then Ryli didn't count for it because of her busted wing, so they made up more new rules on the fly. Dragged it all out."

"What's that mean?" John asked, frustrated that he couldn't connect the dots on his own. "What the hell do they want? We came here for trade, allies. We didn't need anything immediately. Why up a timeline on this Omen thing?"

Ronon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as he looked John over. It was an assessment, like he was determining how much of an idiot Sheppard really was and not liking his conclusions. "Man, you really are bad at this stuff."

John glared at him. "I've had a bad week. Help me out."

The front chair legs dropped back down and Ronon propped his elbows on the table. "Look. I've been up here two weeks and there's stuff that just… doesn't play out. Now they bought off McKay to get him to leave. And figured out how to make you stay. And it sure seemed like they didn't plan on me sticking around since I had to walk back to this place. So…"

Arms still crossed, Ronon waved a hand in small circles like he could coax the comprehension to dawn. It didn't work because by then Sheppard had connected the dots and decided he didn't like them. And he pieced together a few more, remembering Rodney's absolute certainty that their rooms were bugged and monitored. Even if it were true, if the whole Omen proposal had been some kind of misfired effort at pulling John specifically into a human-trade treaty with Atlantis, they couldn't exactly talk about it in a room wired for sound. Not without ending up escalating things that John was in no condition to fight his way out of.

He was angry again and the stress of it was only building up the pain in his head. John caught the back of the chair in front of him and tried to pretend his uninjured arm could twist the ornate wood into pieces. It didn't work. Not sure what else to do, John nodded his head, very careful.

"You… you've been hanging out with McKay too long," John finally said. He reached out and slid the book down the table to Ronon again. "Crazy, paranoid talk. You said these things were just fairy-tales."

Ronon's eyebrow arched up at an angle Elizabeth would be jealous of. "I did. Some are. But you remember that?"

The question caught John off guard. Yes, he remembered that, otherwise he wouldn't have said it. He remembered being angry about things, about walking into the room and Ronon reading stories. He turned from the table and looked back at the sitting area, poking around in his mind at anything at all he could remember about Ronon reading fairy-tales. His attention fell on an overstuffed chair that looked comfortable and he started missing Rodney, which made no damn sense at all. And it only served to make him mad again. John shoved away from the table and headed for the guest hall doors.

"Where are you going?" Ronon wanted to know, making like he intended to stand up. John looked back at the doors and pointed at Ryli.

"We're going for a walk.”

“Not a good idea.”

“I didn’t say I was taking suggestions. I said we’re going for a walk,” returned Sheppard. Ronon started to stand up again and John glared at him. “I don’t need a babysitter so sit your ass down.”

“Fine. Take this then,” Ronon said. And he tossed a knife on the table to slide it closer to him. John went back to look and frowned at it.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” John asked, holding up his arm in its fragile cast as illustration of his point. Ronon shrugged.

“Just take it. Or I could go with,” he said. John snatched up the knife in his left hand and pointed it at Ronon instead. He would take it if he had to but he didn’t see how it would do any good for anybody, other than as an extra weight in his pocket to remind him to be paranoid like the rest of his team.

“No. You're staying here and reading your fairy-tales," he said, as much authority in his voice as he could manage. "And yes, that's an order."

John had a funny feeling Ronon would have ignored him if he didn't clarify that point. Instead, Ronon settled back in his chair again, a smug grin on his face, and he stayed. John stood in the heavy door to block it open and whistled to get Ryli's attention. She bolted for him and out the door without a second's thought. There was something laughable to the fact that the only thing in his life that cooperated lately was a baby dragon who just didn't know any better yet.

Chapter Text

“I knew there was something shifty with these guys-”

“They are overzealous,” Teyla interrupted, very intentionally derailing Rodney before he could get going on another rant. He was too surprised; she hadn’t really said that, had she? But she kept talking and Elizabeth kept listening. “They are wary, and to be fair we did give them reason to be suspicious. None of us were entirely honest up front, I believe, and this is just… the unfortunate result.”

“But we couldn’t be honest and adhere to their stupid rules,” Rodney argued. “We’ve done the same kind of little white lies a half a dozen times, but nobody’s ever bothered to check up on us about it before. And now we had to leave them there-”

“That’s the part that bothers me,” said Elizabeth. She crossed her arms and sat back against her desk. “You’re sure they’ll let Carson’s team leave with him if we send someone through to help?”

“That’s what I don’t know,” replied Rodney. Teyla’s frown added another crease to her forehead as she looked between them.

“Having spent the last two weeks with Wes and Nova, I would like to say I am sure, but I also would not know. Never once did they mention concerns to myself or to Ronon that gate travel would be harmful. We saw that clearly they are steeped in their traditions and beliefs, very determined in their ways. But I had no warning at all that they believed the stargate to be dangerous,” Teyla said.

“It’s not dangerous! They put him more at risk making him walk back than he would have if he were in the infirmary, right now,” Rodney argued.

“Yes, I understand, Rodney,” said Teyla. Elizabeth talked over her.

“The problem is that they don’t seem to understand the stargates enough to trust our word for it, and Teyla’s point is that we are fighting against a very ingrained belief system with them, if I’m following the situation,” she said, looking to Teyla for confirmation. She nodded, so Elizabeth carried on. “Right. So the question remains, would they take our doctor’s word for it that John is well enough to travel home, or would we be setting up another altercation and put a medical team in the middle of everything as well.”

“That is my concern, also. They accepted everything else we told them about the stargate, treated Rodney as a scholar and an expert while they had access to him and quite frequently asked if he would know the answers to the questions that Ronon or I did not, but on the matter of John, they would not listen to any of us,” Teyla replied.

“Especially not him,” Rodney added. “That’s why one of us had to stay. John’s still too… out of it. Ryli can talk over him right now.”

Wit stuck his head out of the bag in Teyla's lap, like he recognized Ryli's name and was looking for her. He poked his nose out first and then climbed out to crawl up to Teyla's shoulder. Rodney tensed, expecting another problem to get added to the discussion, but Elizabeth just stared at the Coppi that burrowed under Teyla's hair. She was surprised by it, her eyes wide, but she didn't say anything about the dragon loose in her office.

"The Daedalus would certainly solve this issue, but it is still two weeks out," she said instead. "There was a delay when the 'gate communications stopped because they had to resupply before they could come back."

"Given what we do not know about our new friends, I would suggest we take a team back to retrieve John, at the very least to stay on that side of the 'gate with him and Ronon should it be necessary," said Teyla. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at that.

"That doesn't actually sound very friendly," she said.

"Their entire misguided argument was concern for John," Teyla replied. "At the surface at least, they are friendly. Just… ignorant."

"It is a potentially dangerous ignorance," Elizabeth pointed out, letting out a frustrated sigh. Rodney reached for his bag, annoyed at himself for having to offer up anything that was even the slightest degree a validation for the Cairnyth Regent's decisions, and very carefully pulled out the ZPM. Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open as her eyes went wide.

“I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet, so maybe don’t get too excited. But they were supposedly using this as a lamp for the past forever and gave it to us as a show of faith, rather than try to figure out how to use it,” Rodney said, handing it over when Elizabeth asked. She got it in her hands, confirmed it was as real as any of them could just by feel and sight, and stood there, all but hugging it as she processed. “So if they have one of these just lying around, who knows what else they have in storage. I mean, you add that to their stargate’s extended power capacity, and the fact that their cities have tapped into some kind of power source that I’ve never seen before? I hate to say it, but these people might be worth knowing. But this thing with John… I don’t trust them. I didn’t before, and now I really don’t.”

“Why didn’t you trust them?” Elizabeth asked. She reluctantly passed the ZPM back and Rodney put it away in his bag. “I mean, aside from the fact that they took John because they think they’re protecting him.”

Rodney dug into the pack again to pull out his tablet and he started poking around for the diagnostic data he had recorded. He found a graph that looked particularly illustrative and held it out for Elizabath to see for herself.

“Stone castles shouldn’t register that kind of electrical activity,” he said, tapping the screen. “I don’t know what their power source is, but it pinged like radar in random areas around the whole place, in both of the cities we stayed in. There was a constant radio static, but I never picked up any traffic. They could be operating on different frequencies than our tech, or maybe it just hops faster than ours, there’s no way to know. But they have something.”

“They seemed to know that Wit had hatched before we had requested assistance with him,” Teyla added, looking to Rodney. “And such similar instances happened when it was just Ronon and I. One or the other would make a comment about something we needed, or wanted, just conversational while we worked with Wit and were otherwise alone in the guest hall. Many times it would shortly thereafter be mentioned, or provided, or made available at mealtime.”

“I swear, the place was bugged,” agreed Rodney. “When John was sick, the doctor was posted in the next room, and we weren’t allowed to close the door. It was like that for days. Even after John told the Regent he didn’t like being spied on. Well, that’s not exactly what he said, but it was only marginally more diplomatic.”

“I can imagine,” said Elizabeth. She crossed her arms and leaned back on the desk again, her attention going out to the gateroom as she considered everything.

“Look, we can’t leave him there for two weeks,” said Rodney.

“Well, from what you’ve said, and what little I saw, I doubt he’ll have healed by the time you can walk back through the ‘gate to try to convince them it’s safe,” Elizabeth said. She aimed an authoritative stare between the two members of AR-1 in her office. “Which, for the record, you will not be doing again until we have a more solid plan than that. It doesn’t sound like these people will just… take our word for it.”

“Right, I know, that’s my point,” said Rodney quickly. He leaned forward in his chair to start making his case. “There’s this Goa'uld healing device in Area 51. I saw it once when I was working there, it just fits in your hand and zap! And he’s healed. So since we have another ZPM that hopefully has enough power for actual transport, in three hours we can be back here and we take a full team and we go get him. We can’t wait two weeks on this. I don’t trust them.”

“Zap?” Teyla looked over at him like she was worried for his sanity. “I understand you want to help John but I do not believe adding to injuries actually heals anything, Rodney…”

“No! No, it’s a device, like this big…” He tried to pantomime the size of the carved stone he had seen exactly twice in his entire tenure with Area 51 and Wit posed and hissed at him for waving his hands too close to Teyla. She and Rodney both ignored Elizabeth’s “Excuse me? What was that?” as he kept trying to tell her about the healing device. “It is like something we’d find around here, you know the stuff that gets us in trouble if we let John touch it and turn it on? It works like that, except it heals people. I don’t know how, the files were mostly classified, I just had access for something that wasn’t-”

“Okay, Rodney, I get it,” interrupted Elizabeth. “We’ll have to make the case to General Landry. Do you think Carson can use this device?”

“I just said I don’t know how it works, I just know that it exists,” Rodney said, with as much patience as he could manage. “Before that’s even really an option, I have to find out how much power this thing’s got, and whether or not it could get us there and back…”

“Check it out,” said Elizabeth, nodding. “Sending you and this device with a team might be possible, because they know you, and it sounds like they like you. It would be less likely to ruffle feathers than sending Carson to try to convince them to let him bring John home. If they wouldn’t listen to you about that, I doubt they’ll listen to a stranger. Otherwise, failing that, I’m not sure what else to do to keep the peace, other than wait for Colonel Caldwell.”

Rodney was surprised by the name and blinked at Elizabeth for a moment, fighting the absurd urge to laugh. It took him a moment to remember why: John’s worry that he had kissed Caldwell. It wasn’t something Rodney could ever mention to anyone else, but it struck him as funny just then. He missed John.

For the first time in two weeks he was more than a few minutes walk away from the man. And he was back at home and John couldn’t be. It left Rodney a little scrambled, adding to the mood that had been somewhere between angry and worried and inexplicably feeling like he was fighting to keep the shields going on day two of a full siege since the Jumper had first cleared the event horizon into the gateroom.

“Right, gonna go,” he said, more to drag himself back to the task at hand than speaking to either of the women in the room with him. He collected his bag and Wit lunged at him, careful to stay on Teyla’s shoulder, but his long neck got him very close to Rodney’s elbow to snap at.

“Hey! Okay! It’s not my fault, jeez. Ryli'll be here,” Rodney muttered at the tiny snap-dragon.

“I’m going to need that explained quickly,” he heard Elizabeth say in her Director-voice as he got to the door. “I was told they would be trained…”

Given that his Coppi was far from trained, and far from home, Rodney removed himself from that conversation’s shouting-range as quickly as possible. He made his way to what had likely been turned into Zelenka's lab during his absence, just to reclaim territory, mostly. But he was also likely going to need the other scientist's assistance on getting the right data and comparison checks going between the city's now two ZPMs. It was hours of delay and Rodney wasn't going to waste more time trying to do it on his own.

"Rodney?" came Zelenka's voice the moment Rodney walked through the door. The man sounded quite confused. Then he was up and pushing back his chair from the desk to see over the top of the computer screen. "Rodney!"

It was nice to be missed and Rodney managed a half smile.

"You are back!" his friend went on, moving a step as though to greet him but stopping with their usual mutual awkwardness. "You are quiet. Are you well?"

"Fine. Are you busy?" Rodney replied, moving to his desk and unloading the backpack. Zelenka started to stammer out a reply but Rodney wasn't actually paying attention because the question had been entirely rhetorical. He pulled the ZPM from the pack and then headed for the door. "No, you're not. Good. Then let's get on with this part."

"Is that- McKay? Where did you get that-" There was a mad scramble for a tablet and then Zelenka was catching up. "I cannot believe my eyes. How did you get that?"

"Traded John for it," Rodney replied, annoyed by the accuracy of his own sarcasm. "And if it works, we need it to go to the SGC in order to get him back, so we need to know what's here. And how far we can stretch it."

It was clear Zelenka wanted to ask for clarification, but they were rushing through the hallways and there were people around, a few of whom did a double-check when they saw Rodney stalking by, a few others who nearly tripped on their faces when they saw he carried a ZPM. Rodney didn't know any of their faces, but he had been gone for half a month and was a lot distracted in the present tense. The rest of the city could carry on without interfering and he would try to remember who some of them were later. When John was back home and back to normal.

It took a few hours to be absolutely certain that the ZPM would get them what was necessary for the return trip. From the readings they could run, it would get them there and back again and still have plenty left over for city operations alongside what was left of the ZPM they were otherwise reliant on. Rodney set the power module very carefully into its new home and let Atlantis start warming up to running on more than one cylinder, as it were.

Radek stood across from him, the man looking perpetually baffled as the ancient computer system took over and the lights in the room flared brighter. They had planned for some of the excess, shut off parts of the city they didn't want or need online, but the simple fact of the matter was that the city was smarter than them. It was going to use the power boost. The city's system was optimized and wouldn't waste it even as it edged the basic operations a little closer to their potential capacity.

"You say you traded the Colonel for the ZPM?" Zelenka asked.

"Not voluntarily, but effectively," Rodney said, probably a little growly about it. "If anything, he traded himself, I just happened to be present at the time."

"Will we get the Colonel back? Or is that just a wishful thinking, because we have the ZPM?"

"Ronon's with him. We're going back. We just have to… make a pit-stop at Area 51 first," replied Rodney. He started fiddling with the ring on his hand, still watching as the power supply fed into the city without any signs of trouble, no hiccups, no misfires. It was a perfectly functional ZPM. The Cairnythians were among the most annoying people Rodney had ever dealt with, maybe not individually but in principle, and they had actually come through on something, they hadn't screwed the city over. They might have just saved everybody's lives at some future point, there was no way to know, but their ZPM was fully functional and the city accepted it gladly.

Rodney still didn't like the method by which he had gotten his hands on the city's good fortune, in this instance.

Elizabeth came over the radio to ask for status, because things had undoubtedly lit up in the operations control room, too.

"It looks like a perfect match, so far," said Rodney.

"Years of use, Elizabeth. From what we can tell, it was nearly at full capacity. With this, we may perhaps eek more still out of the module we already use. This is amazing," said Zelenka.

"Yeah, yeah. It's a full ZedPM. Let's not act like we haven't seen one before," replied Rodney. Zelenka blinked at him.

"In point of fact, we haven't," he said. "Or at least, I haven't…"

"So it will get us a trip to Colorado," said Elizabeth.

"And home again," Rodney confirmed. "We just have to make sure we don't forget to take it with us when we go."

"I assume I'm clear to dial it up on this end?" Elizabeth asked. Rodney looked over the consoles and tablets and all the steady blinking lights and nodded to himself. Everything seemed stable and reliable.

"Yes, Doctor, it should be ready to use for the stargate," said Zelenka when Rodney didn't provide the verbal affirmative fast enough. The comms went quiet after a thank-you from Elizabeth and Rodney was torn between sticking around to make sure there was no power surge or other freak accident, or rushing to Ops to sit in on the call with the SGC.

"I didn't know you took to jewelry," said Zelenka, dragging Rodney back to where they still stood in the power station when his mind was three blocks away in the gateroom.

"What?" he asked, confused. Zelenka motioned toward his hands on the control console.

"You always speak with your hands. I've never seen more than a watch, now there is jewelry," his friend said.

"It's not jewelry, it's a ring," Rodney replied. He started toying with the band as it was discussed. "I think it's made out of some kind of rock. Not jewelry."

"Diamonds are a rock, Rodney. Rings are jewelry," said Zelenka.

"Semantics," Rodney replied. He wasn't getting into it. But the ring was slid over to his right hand. He pointed Zelenka's attention to the power ports and the ZPMs and started moving toward the door. "Stay here. Bring us the new one when we have confirmation the 'gate is locked and we're leaving."

Zelenka didn't argue and Rodney didn't wait around to risk it. He didn't exactly run but it was hard to say that he walked back to the central tower. He arrived upstairs more winded than he wanted to admit to on any kind of call with the SGC, but Elizabeth was the one doing the talking so it would be fine.

"I see, General. Is there a possibility it could be arranged when she returns?" Elizabeth was asking as Rodney walked into the room. She acknowledged him with a nod as an invitation and Rodney moved to stand near enough to see the video screen on the wall. There was General Landry, looking less than pleased with the situation in Atlantis. That seemed about par for the course.

"Of course, but we haven't heard from her team in six hours. We won't know their status for another six, not until the check-in. What I can do is get the device authorized and brought up here. When the team returns, I'll brief them on the situation, and I'm sure there will be an answer before your next check in," said Landry. Rodney frowned at the screen and glanced quickly to Elizabeth, but the Director just nodded.

"Alright. Then we will check in again in seven hours," she said. "And see where your team is at that point so we know when to send through the ZPM."

"Sounds good, Dr. Weir. We'll speak with you then. Good luck in the meantime," said the General. They closed the video call and, shortly afterwards, the stargate. Rodney stared, jaw slack.

"What just happened?" he asked. "What happened to we go get the device-"

"The device isn't so much at issue, Rodney," said Elizabeth. "We can get that. You heard the General, he is having it delivered to the SGC."

"Then why can't we go get it?"

"It can only be used by certain people. Colonel Carter is the only one available, and she's with a team on another planet. So until she gets back to Earth, there's nothing to be done on our end."

"Carson has the gene, he can make it work," said Rodney.

"As you said, it's Goa'uld, not Lantean. It is not responsive to the gene. So we will need Sam's help for this," said Elizabeth. Rodney stared at her, dismayed by the delay and feeling stuck.

"Sam will do it. She likes me. Us, I mean. She likes us so she'll help with this. You told them about the head trauma part, right? He said that's a big deal…"

Elizabeth nodded. "I explained that the Colonel is badly injured and in a spot where we can't get him home until he's healed. I'll let you write up a more complete report on it later to fill in the details. For now, I felt we just needed the basics to make sure we didn't waste the connection. I expected there would be pushback, considering the device I asked for access to is still very classified."

The woman's expression was completely unreadable to Rodney, and either she was amused by the obvious protocol breach, or there was a very stern lecture in Rodney's near future.

"Atlantis is classified, so it's not like anybody here is surprised to learn there are aliens," he said. He waved vaguely around the operations control room. "Particularly the kind that, you know, make gadgets."

The Director rolled her eyes but let it go. "The take-away here is that you have seven hours until we dial in again. You should go clean up, maybe even get some rest…"

Rodney looked down at himself. It wasn't like he had been out in the wilderness for three weeks, he was clean and there were no holes in his clothes or his person that needed patched up. But he did stand out at home, with his regular jacket on over the tunic and slacks he had been given in Cairnyth. His own pants would be a welcome improvement. And a nap.

"We're not giving up. You've been back for five hours and this is as far as we can get for now, Rodney," said Elizabeth, still trying to convince him rather than make it an order. "Take a break. Now is an excellent time for it."

"Fine," he said, but it was clearly under protest. "See you in seven hours."

He had left his gear in the Jumper in his hurry to meet with Elizabeth and test the ZPM, so he retrieved his pack, and John's, and took them both back to his room. That was yet one more failure of the day. There were four of them and not a single member of the team had remembered to pull the pack. It had his stuff in it, but he hadn't really needed any of it since he was hurt because the Regent's staff provided everything.

Clothes, food, blankets; the man didn't need much when he didn't leave the room. Dirty clothes were replaced when they were collected, and Rodney had never been able to argue even Phalen into finding the Colonel's clothes once they disappeared entirely. After the landslide, he'd only had one spare set of clothes to lose. Rodney had to start policing his own after John's stuff disappeared. Everything was just… wrong, and crystal clear in hindsight. So the bag sat in Rodney's quarters, by the door, and he tried to ignore it.

The room was stale and smelled funny after three weeks of being gone. Rodney opened the balcony doors and the windows and stared out at the ocean. No more massive stone walls and ancient tall trees, just the familiar roll of the water as far as he could see. The sun was going down and the city lights reflected brighter off the shadows along the ship edges, the ZPM apparently still humming along just fine.

"Crap," Rodney grumbled, glaring up at the ceiling. The ZPM. Zelenka. He reached for his radio again and told the scientist to stop waiting. "Nobody's going anywhere until tomorrow. If nothing's blown up yet, it probably won't, so you might as well go back to work. Or wherever."

"Why… would the ZPM blow up?" Zelenka asked. Rodney sighed and dropped down onto the end of his bed.

"It won't. I'm just still surprised it's real," Rodney said, rather than explain. It was true, but the ZPM wasn't why Rodney was annoyed. He was convinced the Regent had screwed them over but he didn't have anything to prove it. He couldn't explain that to Radek, or really anyone. Even Teyla wouldn't be of any help; she had been around them for too long not to give the Cairnythians the benefit of the doubt, and Rodney was not in the mood to assume good will.

There wasn't anything he could do about it, though. Nothing he could even work on to keep his mind busy. He was home and in his own space again and expected to take a break, but he wasn't very good at resting. Between Ryli and John and their team, Rodney hadn't been by himself in weeks. When he wasn't with John and Ryli, he had been on the radios with Teyla and Ronon. It was almost like he had gotten used to the noise of those specific other people, so now the breeze in his room and the ocean outside was too much like buzzing silence.

Things were almost peaceful. The city glowed sharper as the sun disappeared because a second, fully loaded ZPM meant she was defensible. Nothing was coming for anyone. Everything was in stasis, mellow, waiting on a go-ahead from another galaxy.

Normally it would be a relief. Rodney could only handle so much exposure to other people and two weeks with his team, without any of them attempting to kill each other or anyone else, was a record. And his team was all accounted for, in some way or another; he and Teyla had been sent home with a good-faith promise to look out for the other half of their team, and that promise now powered the city. The Colonel's stubborn gamble paid off. Except Rodney felt like everything was wrong.

He locked himself in the bathroom and tried for a nice relaxing bubble bath, with the door closed, and no scratching and chirping from Ryli on the other side of it. But he kept waiting for the scratching and the chirping and John complaining at her for being loud, kept waiting for the door to open and for John to give the belated and pointless warning that they were invading to shut her up.

It was all just… quiet.

Chapter Text

The halls of the old castle were much more interesting to look at than John remembered the lowlands castle to be. Those were mostly plain, like sheets of sandstone and marble, but the one in the mountain looked like it was in a mountain. The walls were still a paler, gray stone, but they had a more natural, rougher surface that reminded Sheppard of some of the halls in the Cheyenne complex.

Tapestries hung quite frequently, with matching rugs on the floors, that Ryli had quickly figured out how to use to stay off the stone tiles. She bounced from one corner to the next carpet edge and took off with traction for the length of the runner rug, flapping her wings as she ran but not going anywhere for it. Then she stopped on a dime and spun to race back toward John and zagged aside just before impact to keep running. He didn't bother looking back because the pattern would just repeat, and the long loop seemed to be getting shorter as she wore herself down.

The Coppi was a good distraction from the problem Ronon had uncovered, at least enough to get the headache to back off. And the hallways were longer, so she could burn off some energy as John worked on keeping his balance and walking in a straight line without feeling like he was hungover. It also got him away from a space Rodney had told him was bugged, couldn't be trusted. Ronon was past giving a damn about being eavesdropped on, he was stirring to cut their losses and go home, and he probably had the better idea of it.

But Sheppard had made a promise in exchange for the ZPM, so as the ranking representative of Atlantis, he had to figure out how to hold to it. There was also the miserable detail that he was injured and the inflammation was worse up the mountain than it had been in the lowlands, so while Ronon could fight his way out of whatever trouble he got into, John was the one having to practice walking. A walk let him multitask on feeling better and staying out of trouble.

The flaw in the plan presented itself when Ryli cut up ahead of him and launched herself at a stone statue slightly taller than John. It was a statue of a Coppi sitting up and Ryli's claws scraped into it as she climbed up to sit on its head. Which meant she was over John’s head and reaching to pull her down would hurt. The little dragon stood up on top of a statue of her adult self and looked down the hallways and out into the room that formed a sort of crossroads in the cave-like castle’s tall passageways, one way and then the other, and started up a rattling crying noise. It was loud to start with, but she had chosen just the right place to get the perfect acoustics bouncing off the walls and high ceiling and it reverberated down John’s spine.

"Oh, come on… Do you hear anybody else making that much racket?" John said, looking up gingerly at the noisy brat. Ryli stared right at him and let loose another raspy screech before tossing her head and aiming the sound at the arched ceiling. John winced and reached up, annoyed at the painful pull on his ribs, to try to pet her and coax her down. The pitch changed slightly, and Ryli went from sitting up to laying flat on her belly on the statue's snout, poked her nose under John's fingers, and then continued to cry. It hurt his head, but it was also the saddest sound John had possibly ever heard and he just wanted it to stop. He couldn't reach well enough to pull her down, though.

"You know, if you keep this up, Ronon's going to show up thinking somebody's getting murdered and we'll have to go back," John tried to tell her. The guest hall wasn't that far away when the hallways echoed her complaints so clearly. Ryli ducked her head and quieted a little again, but the sound carried on.

A footfall around one of the corners confirmed John's warning and he offered up an I-told-you-so to the Coppi but she didn't seem to care. John had to pull his hand down to rest his ribs and looked over at the person who had come to check on them. He had expected Ronon. But that wasn't who he found.

"Uh, sorry," John said to the Regent. He motioned toward the crying Coppi. "I think she ran up there because she knows I can't get her down."

Ryli kept up the noise but she got louder again and turned her attention and complaining on their visitor. The Regent kept an eye on her but didn't seem to be there to haul her off to the Coppi-pound.

"She did that when you were missing. It was how they knew there was trouble," he said.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” John muttered. He tried again to reach up for her but Ryli hissed instead of accepting his presence in her space, and she sat up again, pulled all four feet under herself to move just that little bit further from his reach. “Damn it, Ryli…”

“Here. I can help,” the Regent said. That didn’t seem like a good idea, considering Ryli still didn’t like Ronon or Teyla, and John started to advise against it, but the man moved closer and reached up to shadow what John had tried. Ryli got actually mad then, her hissing getting louder and much meaner sounding, and it even came with a phlegmy sounding spitting. She snapped but Wes dodged in time to avoid anything worse than a scratch. The Coppi held her ground on top of the statue, but she had at least shut up. It was a partial success, anyway.

“She still doesn’t like people,” John said, awkwardly stepping aside to stay out of the man’s space. He would have happily walked away if there weren’t an already upset Coppi in the middle of everything, making his head hurt.

“It’s the imprint. She won’t like anyone other than you for a very long time,” said Wes, dismissing it. “It’s a useful trait when it comes to training, but the actual practicalities of it are difficult.”

It clicked for John then and he blinked up at Ryli. The dragon was still glaring at Wes, but there was still a low, blessedly quiet whine just threatening to get obnoxious again behind her bared teeth. He glanced at the Regent and motioned toward her. “This is because of Rodney, isn’t it? She’s just figured out he’s not back yet. Usually he is.”

Wes shrugged and nodded. “Perhaps. I’m not sure how it works when there are two imprints. I raised mine myself from when I was young. There was never any question.”

John tried again to coax Ryli down but was only hissed at, albeit more quietly than what was aimed at Wes. The Regent caught John’s arm and guided him closer to the wall, at once moving in with him.

“Let’s try this,” he said. It was not a welcome invasion of space, but he kept his attention otherwise on the Coppi so John allowed it. Ryli, however, didn’t take well to it. Wes had moved John even just a step further from her and stood angled slightly between them.

There was a flurry of angry chirping and Ryli moved back along the statue to get her human back in her line of sight. She balanced on the tip of the stone statue’s folded wing and then jumped to John’s shoulder, flapping her own wings excessively to clear space around him. John couldn’t exactly duck away but he tried to stay out of the danger zone of her teeth as she flapped her wings and hissed at Wes. She had her claws sunk into his jacket and seemed quite determined to stay on his shoulder.

“They guard well,” Wes said, smiling at the successful provocation as he backed off. Ryli stopped hissing but she still kept her wings up and her teeth bared in his general direction. John stared between the two of them, a little concerned. The Coppi acting as guard dogs was not necessarily a good thing in terms of taking them back to Atlantis for any length of time.

“Great. They’ll love that trick back at home,” he said.

“I’m sure she will settle down by the time you are cleared to return,” Wes said. The smug grin had faded some, though. John decided he liked the topic of returning a little more on principle.

“Look, about that. The stargates - uh, the Disk things. They don’t change anybody who goes through them. Really. I could probably try to explain it, but that’s… that’s really the truth of it. This whole thing, staying here… It doesn’t make any difference. Except my doctors are at home. Not here. I’d be better off there,” John tried. They weren’t around any Scholars or doctors, Ronon wasn’t ten yards away with his knife to somebody’s throat, so maybe he could talk the guy into seeing reason during peace-time. Wes shook his head.

“Our Scholars understand enough to know that the body is removed from one place to another in pieces. If you disassemble something while it is broken, it will remain broken on the other side. It will not repair a wound, or revive the dead by this reassembly,” said Wes. He tugged again on John’s arm to pull him along and to John’s disappointment, Ryli didn’t snap at him that time. He still kept her away from the Regent but started walking just to get his arm back without trouble.

“I get that, but-”

“My sister was a Scholar, and you have only been here a few weeks,” Wes interrupted him, speaking firmly and talking over him. “So on these matters, we will abide by the recommendations of our own people. I trust the Scholars. That’s all that needs to be said.”

“Oh, there’s a lot that could be said here,” replied John, more annoyance than he intended sneaking into his tone.

“You agreed to the terms. Your city prospers for the arrangement, despite your absence. The agreement remains in place until you are well.”

The man's dedication to the story ran right up against Rodney and Ronon's conviction that it was a story. And all John had to go on was what he remembered of the last few weeks to help sort it out. That wasn't enough to fight back with. He trusted Rodney and Ronon. But he was stuck with the fact that he had given his word on behalf of Atlantis. So he resolved to let it go. When Rodney got back with Carson, they could try again.

"I guess. I might be starting to remember things, so hopefully that means we won't be imposing too long," he said.

"You're not an imposition," said the Regent. John bit back a laugh.

"I took over your bedroom for, what, Rodney said two weeks? And now this," he replied.

"You can take the room again if you like. There's plenty of space," Wes said, nodding like the account was accurate. He waved John down another new hallway as they walked. "You agreed to stay at my request, so you are welcome."

"I'm sure Rodney would have something to say about that," John replied, keeping his own opinion tramped down. It was generally safer to blame McKay for most things, and in this instance, he had the Cairnythians' traditions to back him up. "I'm good with the guest hall."

"Dr. McKay is not here. And given that he left you on your own for the cost of a lamp, I think it's fair to suggest you are free to drop the charade," said the Regent. John was distracted trying to keep up with the unfamiliar hallways and not get lost so it took a moment for the man's words to catch up. He stopped at the next doorway rather than walk through.

"What?" he asked. The Regent stopped, leaned a shoulder into the doorway.

"A partnership would not be divided by entire planets, John. Dr. McKay left Ronon here. In light of everything else, it seems proof enough that your team was only trying to dodge the Omen. Very creatively, perhaps, but all the same, ultimately unsuccessful, I think," he said.

"An Omen we weren't supposed to be subjected to in the first place," John pointed out, his anger slipping out. The Regent shrugged and offered a smile.

"I admit, I rushed it perhaps. The Scholars have since informed me of my error. But there is much to be gained by our two peoples from any alliance, so I think we've settled on a fair arrangement, despite my ignorance," replied the Regent. Talking about his ignorance was better than discussion of a lie John didn't remember choosing to act on.

"You're the Regent. If your people are so dedicated to their ways, it seems like you should know them a little better," he said.

“Yes, I’m the Regent. My sister and her husband died only a few cycles ago, so I am relatively new to all of this. When you take a soldier and make him a king overnight, he’s going to make mistakes,” replied Wes. He seemed sincere enough as he nodded. “Particularly in these matters. There’s been no one through the Disk since Sateda fell. No unknown travelers in over a generation. I was not trained to deal with you.”

Again, the blunt words seemed true and caught John off guard. He was looking for lies, for the proof of what his friends had warned him about, and Wes kept coming in with unexpected explanations and honesty. Maybe he was a good liar, or maybe he was telling the truth and John's team was paranoid after being away from home too long. John sure as hell was, but nothing was flagging for him from the Regent's behavior. It was annoying.

"Yeah, that whole overnight part can be a doozy," he finally said. He figured it was the polite thing to do. "When we first got to this galaxy, the Wraith killed my commander. That bumped me up the food-chain and suddenly I'm the Number Two in the city. It takes getting used to."

"Ah. So you understand," replied Wes. The smile was back, lit up his eyes like he meant it. The Regent had very blue eyes and John was suddenly reminded of Rodney; the Regent didn't look like him, really, just similar enough around the eyes for John to notice. He was probably a little younger, had more hair on top of his head than McKay did, and stood as tall as John.

"Yeah, maybe I get some of it," John replied. And when Wes waved him on, down another unknown hallway, John started walking again. The movement from the Regent had Ryli hissing in John's ear and he carefully extracted her claws from his jacket to put her down and distract herself with more running. She seemed quite angry about it with lots of hissing but she jumped out of his hand as fast as she could wiggle loose and hit the ground already moving.

There weren’t any tall statues to climb, just smaller ones that were much more manageable, as long as she didn’t get the idea to try scaling a hanging tapestry. She paused every so often to hiss and screech at Wes, highlighting for John mostly how he wasn’t able to keep up with either one of them when the Regent would easily get ahead of him and have to wait a step. Walking wasn’t so easy when he was dizzy.

“I should probably head back. I have no idea if she’ll bite you or not,” John said, rather than admit he needed to sit down somewhere.

“She won’t. She would have on the way down from the Disk if she was inclined to,” replied Wes. “She was quite unhappy about it, but she sat on the neck of the hoith and made those same noises. She’s very communicative.”

The information was surprising and John pulled a face, scrunching his nose at more things he didn’t remember. “What? She was with me,” he said.

“You fell off the hoith and passed out. Ronon carried you for a time but once it became too dangerous over the rocks, you rode with me. Which meant that Ryli wanted to be involved where you were, and greatly disapproved of my presence as I assisted,” said Wes. Like that wasn’t embarrassing and irritating and weird at all. John wanted to put his aching head through a wall to get everything over and done with suddenly.

“That’s just great. I’m… I’m going to head back and sit down for a year until this all stops so that never happens again,” he said with as much false cheer as he could get past the frustration. The Regent pointed to a set of large double doors a few feet away.

“There’s a hall there. You may rest. I’ll escort you back when you’re better,” he offered. But he sounded bossy about it. And John wanted to sit down before he had to use the walls to hold the world still. So he whistled for Ryli to bring her back from a dozen yards down the hall and let the Regent lead the way into yet another cavernous hall that he had no memory of ever seeing before.

Ryli ran for the new space and John stepped aside as Wes let the door close them inside yet another hall ante-room. This one didn't have the library walls but seemed vaguely familiar once he was inside with Ryli, just little snatches of feelings more than any recognizable memory of the place. It was annoying but it almost seemed like it had to be a good sign; any change was better than nothing.

"Have a seat and rest," Wes ordered. He pointed to the chairs and couches off to one side. "I'll have food brought up."

John was tired and not really hungry but he figured it had been a long time since breakfast and didn't argue. He sat on one of the well-padded couches as Wes walked into a double-doored room across the entry hall. The doors were propped open and John sat where he could see something that looked like a large desk inside, and Wes set about tapping on the slanted surface like a keyboard or something. He didn't hear him order up room service on a radio or phone, so the desk was probably one of the computers that had made Rodney paranoid.

John frowned at the thought because their big wood desk was no different than the computers in the consoles in Atlantis or even in the SGC. A computer was a computer, it could live inside a wood case if someone really wanted to go to the effort. With a running leap from the floor, Ryli pounced on his lap then, derailing all concerns about any computers because claws had attached themselves to his pants.

For the next few minutes at least - John was really bad at tracking time lately - the Coppi in the room stood on his lap and stared him in the face, making all manner of her full range of noises, from the chirping she did when she was worried to the crackling and the barking and the hissing. She was wide eyed and very snappy, teeth in play to make herself listened to, full of an attitude that her human hadn’t seen from her in the weeks he had known she had adopted him.

If she were a dog, he would have guessed she was scared, but Coppi were not dogs, Rodney had made that very clear even if John’s own senses hadn’t already told him that, and he didn’t know how to interpret the intent energy all eight-pounds of Ryli had dedicated to pinning him against the back of the couch and talking at him only inches from his face. When he tried to distract her with scritches, she bit his nose and continued clacking at him. There were no teeth involved in the bite, just the threat of them, and John had to very carefully extract himself to keep from testing her any further.

“This is- what even is this, Ryli-” He grumbled at her as she thrashed at his efforts to pick her up and hold her away from being in his face. She let out a screech and John let go just to protect his ears. Ryli jumped down to the rug, ran around in a zig-zag circle, and then jumped right back up onto the couch to continue giving him noise. He used the cast to keep her blocked back away from his face this time since she was determined to be a hellion.

"Can those trainer-guys fix this?" John asked, voice raised enough to get around Ryli and still be heard in the office with the big desk.

Wes showed up a little bit later, carrying a blanket that looked big enough to bury Ryli with. John reached for it and started tucking it around her and eventually scooped her up into it like he would have if he had been wearing the stupid Cairnythian jacket with it's button-in dragon-pocket. Wes helped from just out of her range of sight and John was eventually left with a lump of blanket in his lap that alternated between hissing and crackling but had at least stopped pouncing. Ryli lay still buried under the blanket and didn't fight to get out from under it. She just quietly complained.

"Okay, that's not good," John said. Wes sat down beside him and risked scratching at the Coppi neck over the barrier of the blanket. Ryli made more of her washboard noises but stayed still.

"It's apparently normal for her. She did the same to Dr. McKay for two days. It would have been very miserable for everyone if you hadn't come around. She would have made sure of it," said Wes.

"That's not exactly normal," replied John. He frowned down at the blanket. He wasn't sure if the fits were because of the imprint or because she had been with him during the landslide and probably got stuck with the Coppi version of PTSD because of him. Who knew what went on in her not-a-lizard brain when one of her people disappeared. Maybe she would grow out of it.

The hand that had been petting Ryli dropped down to sit at John's right thigh in territory that was unmistakably friendly. He was still a little cotton-brained from the ache in his head that hadn't really stopped for a couple of days, but John wasn't so far gone that he didn't recognize the move for what it was. And he could very clearly hear Ronon Dex in his head saying a very annoyed I-told-you-so and the version of Rodney in his head was spluttering things about Kirk and trust and largely unintelligible amidst pink-faced outrage. It was probably bad that John wasn't sure who the Rodney in his own head was most mad at, John or the Regent helping himself.

"Look…" he began, mostly trying to shut up the McKay that had decided to take up residence in his brain. He tried to tap into training from Teyla instead, looking for the peacekeeper’s charm and patience when his temper and injuries would otherwise result in disaster. "If you're expecting that hand's supposed to get somewhere, you and me better have a talk."

"We can. When your headache clears," said the Regent.

"Yeah, well, that could be a while so I'm thinking I need to say a few things now anyway," replied John, a little testy and not at all put off by the magnanimous gesture. He had Ryli wedged in against his left arm which just left his injured right to deal with Wes. He let the clunky cast hit the man's arm as he carefully tried to pry Wes' hand away from his leg and Ryli and the blanket. "I'm... flattered, Regent, but that's not the kind of alliance I showed up for. I think we made it pretty clear so far, I've got a partner, and just because he's not on the planet right now doesn't mean you get a pass. Not how the whole partners thing works."

There was a flash of frustration on the man’s face, but it disappeared just as quick, and Wes allowed his hand to be removed from John's leg. He didn't take the hint to move the rest of the way out of his space, however. He rested comfortably back against the couch - no reason not to, it was his damn couch, - and watched John intently.

"You expect me to honestly believe that?" he asked. "You are not partners, John. He may have told you that when you woke up, but it's quite clear it was all a lie. That's what he told you, isn't it?"

"I don't know why you think it's a lie. I can't remember my own team, months of my life- I have no clue how I even got here, but I remember Rodney. It can't be much of a lie if I remember it," John said.

"Neither of you were exactly subtle," replied Wes. "You talked about it, as Dr. McKay said he has never been married… so obviously he lied."

"I don't remember that," said John. It had become a tired mantra but it was true. "So maybe you're lying. And the point is, I'm sticking with the partner I've got. If that's why you tried to block me out of the 'gate, we're gonna have a problem."

"You aren't going through the Disk again until you are well," said Wes, sounding a little put out about it. "Think what you want, but that agreement stays in place."

"You just said I lied, so now you'll take my word?" John said, challenging the call out of sheer annoyance behind the headache.

"On the contrary, I said I would hold you to it," replied the Regent. "One way or another."

The man was smiling again, like he had made a joke instead of a threat. The door to the hall opened then, interrupting the conversation as a cart of food was wheeled into the room. Wes went to the dining area to investigate the spread as one of the castle's staff started setting out trays of food. John was hungry but just as glad for the excuse not to go near the offered meal.

He couldn't get a read on Wes and wanted the space to think. The Regent seemed to have trouble with the idea that he wasn't going to get his way. He definitely wasn't listening. The distraction of dinner just bought Sheppard time.

The scent of food gradually quieted Ryli's grumbled crying and she started to dig her way out of the blanket. When Wes bothered to look back at John, there was an attentive Coppi sitting in the seat he had left. That didn't stop him from bringing John a bowl of food, however. He sat down with his own bowl somewhere else as John poked at the shredded meat in the bowl and offered a bit to Ryli. She sprawled out on her belly, feet stretched out to point herself in an arrow at John across the other side of the couch, watching him and his free food intently, and accidentally providing a dragon-shaped wall between her human and the Regent. They would all get along much better if Wes stayed on his own couch anyway.

It wasn’t like it was the first time John had stupidly ended up with somebody getting the wrong idea about his job on the team. There were two entire cities that wanted his genes and he could remember three separate ruling-class invitations that weren’t the sort he could include on a report back to Elizabeth. Maybe Rodney wanted to call it some kind of Kirk complex but it wasn’t John’s fault. He never even realized there was trouble until he was already in it. Granted, usually that trouble was female, but that still wasn’t John’s fault.

He had a surprising amount of practice at dodging people like Wes in the Pegasus galaxy without causing interplanetary trouble. From what he could remember, though, usually when somebody made a pass Sheppard had the use of both arms, and minimal balance or breathing issues working against him. This one was new.

“Have you ever been through the starga- Disk?” he asked. He tried to keep ahead of Ryli and eat his own dinner without turning it over for her to make disappear; she kept stretching her front toes out at him like the little hands were going to get impatient and start stealing food, so John was fighting two different battles on two different fronts.

“No,” replied Wes. “There’s no need. We do well enough on our own. Sateda was a good example of how the Disk can be dangerous.”

“The fact that the Wraith are afraid of the Coppi is a benefit there, too,” said John. “But not everything through the ‘gate is the Wraith or bad or something. We’ve met some really good people. That’s how I got my team. These guys are the best.”

“I’ve worked with Teyla and Ronon many times this week. I can agree, they are good stewards and ambassadors for your city. And I believe they will train the Coppi Wit to be an asset. He is much better behaved than this one,” Wes said, nodding toward where Ryli had crept up and caught hold of John’s pant leg to flex her clawed fingers in as she impatiently waited for another share of his food.

“For now, this one does fine,” John replied. “We’re still working on things. But she’s learning. She’s only a couple weeks old.”

Wes didn’t seem to agree on that point but from where John sat the man didn’t need to. John was the one who would have to figure out a baby dragon running around his city with a willful communicative streak that meant she wouldn’t always do as she was told. He ended up giving her the remaining half of his food bowl anyway, too exhausted to bother with trying to eat anything else.

“Look, I need to get back before I pass out,” John said, reminding the Regent he had promised his lost guest a guide back to the guest hall. Wes just nodded at him.

“There’s a room here. You can stay here until you’re capable of the walk,” the Regent said. John blinked at him. That hadn’t been the plan. In no universe had that been an acceptable plan. He could all too easily hear Ronon stepping in with another I-told-you-so with the clarity of an actual memory so it suddenly seemed like something the man had occasion to say a lot. John considered pointing out that his Satedan teammate would have a problem if he didn’t show up after their walk, but it seemed like the kind of detail that had been factored in before Wes made the offer.

John’s head was buzzy and slow but he remembered Rodney very clearly and emphatically telling him their rooms were bugged. It didn’t seem like so much of a coincidence that the Regent had shown up in the hallway when Ryli started calling for Rodney, not long after Ronon had warned him of a double-cross. Kind of like it didn’t seem like quite such an honest mistake that the soldier-turned-king didn’t know the rules about the Omen when he had tried backing John’s team into the arrangement.

“My own room?” he asked. Given the dots connecting themselves in his head, John was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that question. The other man’s face was carefully blank. Wes shrugged again.

“These are my rooms. As I said, you’re welcome to stay here until you’ve recovered,” the Regent said. “And I’ll have Nova pass along to Ronon where you are.”

“Right. I don’t think that will go over so great,” John replied.

“They got along well all week. I don’t see anything to be worried about,” said Wes. It didn't track for John, based on what Rodney had told him trying to spark memories and the time he had been around Ronon so far. If the man was willing to boss Rodney around on John's behalf, he wasn't likely to hesitate on anyone who wasn't his team. But Sheppard left it alone.

"Fine. Which one's my room?" he asked. It was met with another neutral shrug from the Regent.

"Pick one."

There was too much static in his head, too much residual pain and the random sharp ache, all distracting him from figuring out what the man's game was. It didn't make sense. He was risking losing an alliance with Atlantis, for what? A stranger who couldn't remember entire months of his life and could hardly walk a straight line on a bad day. The Regent wasn't even after the gene. Just… John.

But he was too tired and foggy-headed to be able to read if he was in danger or if the whole thing was just a bored, spoiled king-in-training being obstinate. And after at least a half an hour in the man's company, second guessing every damn thing, John wasn't sure he cared. Even if Wes jumped him in his sleep, at least then he'd have confirmed proof that his team was right and their host was no good. Atlantis could cut ties with a free conscience and enjoy their ZPM. But until then, John had given his word, and he couldn't hold a whole civilization responsible for one spoiled soldier, even if he had gone up in rank.

So Sheppard gave in to his exhaustion and went to choose a bedroom. Ryli followed after him without complaint, her little belly full after eating John's dinner, her panic over the absent Rodney at least momentarily paused. John chose the nearest room with a light already on inside and locked himself and Ryli behind double doors. He even stacked a couple of chairs against them as a poor man's alarm system. It didn't have to be perfect, just enough for a nap.

Chapter Text

Rest and recovery was a good idea, in theory, but actually attaining it was an entirely different matter. Rodney ended up in Teyla’s apartments, partly for the company after two weeks of sharing a bed and partly because of Wit. The tiny Coppi didn’t like him any better than he did earlier in the day, but he was usefully annoying noise.

Rodney curled up propped against the wall on some pillows as Wit pounced along on the new playground of furniture and kept Teyla more awake than he let her sleep. He wasn’t screeching like Ryli had done when she was separated from John for too long, but he was distressed and making sure his human knew about it. It was strangely comforting.

"This was certainly not a welcome change in plans," Teyla said with a sigh.

She was tired but her usual levels of polite and amused anyway. Rodney couldn't exactly say the same, but he wasn't the one being repeatedly pounced on by three pounds of not-a-lizard, either. Wit would rear up on his back feet and fall toward Teyla, front claws up to make himself seem bigger, mouth open like the tiny teeth were a threat, and then just shove at her. Or climb up to her shoulder to argue with her hair. Or scamper over her lap to attack from the other side. All of it in between the same zooming, zig-zag running around that Ryli did. Just more sporadic bursts of flying.

"And you guys got the human instruction manuals," Rodney said, in full agreement. "I took Ryli down to the nursery a few times, but they weren't as helpful. Harker and Toure weren't there."

"Yes, the Captains were able to work with us. We will be able to help you and the Colonel with it," Teyla said. "Ronon is impatient for this one to grow because Harker let us work with the Queen's Coppi."

"Ronon is just impatient," Rodney muttered. He tucked into himself a little more, wrenching his crossed arms more snug around his chest. "And... cranky."

"Ronon is worried, Rodney. As we all are. And, it turns out, with good reason," Teyla replied.

"There was no reason to get mad at me about it. I've been stuck with it the whole time, too," Rodney said. It was small consolation that Ronon would have to babysit John while they were gone, so he could see for himself how hard it could get to have to watch and not be able to help.

"While I am perhaps not as close to Ronon as you and the Colonel have become to one another, I am comfortable assuring you that he is not mad at you for it. Perhaps the opposite is true. He expected you to fix things to just as they were before. And it was not possible, in John’s case. I do not believe either of us expected to see him in as much pain as he is."

"Well, that's why we need the device from the SGC. If I'm supposed to fix it, fine, that's how."

"He is not a computer, Rodney. No one meant that you are supposed to fix him," Teyla said, quick and sounding rather decisive about it. Wit charged her again and she pulled the tiny dragon into her hands so that she could coddle him, turned her focus instead over at Rodney. "We hoped you could, as you are close friends, and the rules of our hosts demanded it, but that is not to say you let anyone down. Healing takes time, no matter how stubborn John Sheppard may be. Perhaps especially because of that."

"It's not easy," Rodney said, still defensive. "I don't like it. Anything that worked to make him better one day made him worse later. I don't know any of this stuff. Healing stuff. That's Carson's job."

"But you at least know John. I think that helped more than you realize."

"Even though he's confusing." After an annoying, disappointing day, following a hard two weeks, Rodney was pouting. And the only one in the room to care about it was Teyla, so he didn’t feel like he had to change that, either. There was a certain kind of exhaustion that came with being home, but it was overridden by the adrenaline of worry about the other half of his team, left behind. They didn’t do that, they never did that, but this time they had to. A day after being snapped at by Ronon for not accomplishing the impossible, he was sitting around with Teyla and a dragon, in Atlantis, under John’s orders, and it was just wrong. “He’s an idiot.”

“Be that as it may, he is our idiot,” said Teyla. One corner of her mouth quirked up toward her usual smile. “Our team has each other. And I know that is as important as family. Not a tie to be... overlooked.”

“Or left on their own on some backwater planet,” Rodney said, motioning toward the door and the stargate sitting idle elsewhere in the city. “One earthquake away from just... lost. Or a landslide.”

Teyla nodded, not apparently concerned. "Well. If there is another, at least this time we know what happened. And we know the Daedalus is only two weeks away. If you can survive two weeks as a caretaker, I am sure John could survive two weeks of Ronon."

Slouched into his collection of pillows, Rodney tucked his chin to his chest, stifled an amused scoff. "He's too old for him."

"What?" Teyla seemed very genuinely confused and there was no possible way he would ever explain it to her. Rodney waved it off to dismiss it, make his comment disappear.

"Sorry. It's a… Joke."

Teyla sat on the end of her bed and set Wit down to let him try again at behaving himself. The little dragon jumped over her knee and scouted around the blankets before pouncing down to the rugs on the floor and taking off in the weird little territorial circles again. The quiet was only temporary, though, lasting just until Teyla could turn her attention back to Rodney.

"Perhaps it would set your mind at ease to hear that not everyone you know sees others quite the same as you experience them?" she said. Like she expected him to understand her cryptic meanings. Rodney rolled his eyes and leaned over his knees, resting his chin on an elbow.

"My mind is as far from at ease as it's been in weeks so even if that made sense to me, probably not," he said. Teyla nodded and shrugged a shoulder at him.

"Too old, too young, too anything… some people just are. There is no expectation… no visible, apparent difference between one person or the other," Teyla said. "They may have their favorites, but it is not inherently something physical. Recognizing when someone is attractive is not the same as being attracted, or even attached. Some people… feel different things.”

Rodney squinted up at her. “You just spent two weeks not-married to Ronon Dex, so is this your way of saying he’s not your type?”

“No, rather it is my way of saying he’s not everyone’s type. Though, if I am not too old to be not-married to Ronon, I see no reason John would be too old," Teyla replied. Rodney did not appreciate her logic and she just smiled at him for it. He looked away to glare at the wall instead and Teyla waved a hand and patted the edge of the bed to reclaim his attention. It also caught Wit's and the Coppi flew back across the room to pounce on her hand.

"And I am saying that spending two weeks with Ronon would pass much differently than it did with you, Rodney. Different people, different relationships. And what our friend will share with you, around us, is much different than what he will share with us," said Teyla as she let Wit gnaw toothlessly at her fingers and the side of her palm.

Annoyed despite himself, Rodney shuffled the sitting pillows around and reconsidered how badly he really needed to be around noise. He got more or less comfortable again and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to dismiss whatever track Teyla was on. "That's not entirely true. He thought he had kissed the whole team, so he's not exactly fussy."

Another pillow was launched and thumped into Rodney's face, startling him. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Ronon was right. You don't listen," Teyla said. Though she didn't sound all that upset considering that she had gone to the effort to hit him with a pillow. It was apparently one she wanted back, too, because she unfolded from the end of the bed to step around Wit and retrieve it.

"I listen just fine. It's not my fault none of you speak in sentences that make sense," Rodney replied. "You and him and John, all of you lately. It's like I need some kind of decoder ring to figure any of you out."

"Now what did John do?" Teyla asked, because apparently all of her team was trouble, and somehow John stranding himself on another planet wasn't obvious enough. As she settled back down cross legged, Wit jumped in the air, wings beating furiously to get little better than a hover until he could attach himself to Teyla's shoulder. He then picked a fight with the bun in her hair and the carved sticks that held it in place.

The little dragon was quite angry with her, and Rodney's experience was that the animal would remain that angry with her until she returned him to Ronon. Ryli had given Rodney a few hours reprieve as she had calmed down from her trauma the day she was separated from John, but then, after that, the Coppi hardly let Rodney do anything without causing trouble. Making noise, pouncing with claws, running into people and things and hissing and jumping… much larger, louder versions of what Wit was capable of because she had grown three times his size by then. He still squeaked like a mouse and even his rattles came out high-pitched.

Teyla had seen Rodney deal with Ryli's fits, so he knew she was fully capable of putting a stop to Wit's tantrums, too. And instead she just let the animal wear his tiny self down. It was obvious she wasn't turning in soon, and Rodney had no actual intentions to go sit by himself in his apartment again, so they had time to kill.

"Okay. Fine. What he did isn't the issue for me. He said that what he did, he only did because I started it, it's not his thing, and what's the point in that?" Rodney asked, because if the rest of his team could be annoyingly vague at him, he could return the favor. "This becomes particularly confusing when he's the one starting it. So I don't understand how he says he doesn't want to do something when he keeps doing it."

There was a moment of distracted quiet as Teyla pulled Wit down from her shoulder. Then she asked, "He keeps doing what?"

Back in Atlantis, there was a different kind of danger to saying things out loud about his last two weeks spent with a member of the American military, even among friends and in private. Rodney scrunched his nose at the ceiling. "Nevermind."

But she didn't leave it alone, even threatened him with the pillow again when he tried to ignore her. He probably could have waited it out, a pillow to the face didn't exactly hurt, especially in the grand scheme of things when Teyla was the potential attacker. But she was also his friend, and John's, and asking John had gotten him exactly nowhere because the man couldn't string complete sentences together when he tried. Rodney propped himself up on his elbow again to look over at her.

"The married thing, right? The kissing, all that. He found us these," Rodney paused to pull the ring off his hand to hold it up before switching it to his other hand. "I told him the truth about the whole Omen thing when I could figure out how. And he said it was fine. And he kept wearing his ring even after I told him. But he didn't go back to how it was before. You saw, when we left. He does that, a lot, and I think it's great, but he said he only does that stuff because of me."

Teyla listened carefully, her attention on him when it wasn't on keeping her hands from being chewed on or claw-kicked by a not-a-lizard with wings. She shook her head and had a smile on her face. "This is what I was trying to tell you, Rodney. He does not do things because of you. He does them with you. There is a difference."

"Not really. He's done things with half the team at this rate," Rodney replied, not feeling all that special just then. Teyla narrowed her eyes and her smile flattened. Something Rodney said had pushed the 'angry' button and unless he figured out what it was, the next time she hit him with something, it wouldn't be a pillow.

"No. He kissed you goodbye, he did not kiss me," Teyla told him, tone firm. "Ronon kissed me goodbye because it was expected, because we lied and had to maintain that lie. That is all that would have been required, but that is not what John chose to do, correct?"

Rodney nodded. "Right, and that's what is so damn frustrating. I don't know what he's thinking, and when I asked, that's all he said. It's not his scene, whatever that means, and he's good with it because it's me."

"It means he wants to do things with you that he otherwise would not, with anyone else. Whatever he chose to do, it was with you and therefore important," said Teyla. She caught one of the loose, soft blankets from her bed and scooped Wit into it to make him calm down. "And consider that it took John weeks to apologize to me when he felt he had done wrong towards me when he was ill. It is not in him to hurt his friends once he knows there has been harm. Which says to me that what he chooses to do with you has nothing to do with the Omen, or some expected chore, and it instead has everything to do with how he feels about you."

Rodney stared at her, struck momentarily dumb. Of course it sounded simple, obvious even, when she put it that way. It sounded like a normal relationship, sounded in generic terms like what his friendship with John had always been; he wanted to do things with John, so he did them, following the man wherever he had to, quietly enjoying more than he bothered to complain about.

But while he didn't necessarily enjoy putting his life in immediate danger to do so, he could look back and laugh at a lot of stupid, moronic, never-should-have-worked escapes, and he wouldn't have done anything different if he had to do it over again. Rather like John, telling him it wasn't his scene, but that he was good because of Rodney.

It folded together with Teyla's words, that not everyone was attracted to people who were attractive, that some felt things differently, and brought in all the times John had ever been in Rodney's space over the years. Entire years when, John said, he had been too locked into the job to do more than that even though he wanted to.

It was very different from the rush Rodney got when he saw Sam Carter or a few of the women around the city, and something different than the sucker punch he felt when John smiled and Rodney was responsible for it showing up. It was still there, though, that gravitation toward John. It was just maybe different than the attraction, different than wanting to stare at the man when he found the damn lollipop stash, different than wanting to mess up his hair. He was attracted to someone who happened to also be attractive, but he finally wrapped his head around what his friends had maybe been trying to tell him for days, maybe the same thing John had mentioned fighting with.

There was more involved than just the physical want that Rodney was used to paying attention to, used to even acting on. That had been the last thing to hit him with John. He had to be walked into that, an all but engraved invitation to grant permission for that to hit the fore.

Once he had it, with that new level of play unlocked and a whole new round of stress added in, it had all slammed together hard enough that Rodney had forgotten basic computer applications for entire days. It was something like an equation in two parts, two waves: physical, sure, but mental, too. It all combined to create the goddamn emotional response stuck in his head.

Maybe not everyone wanted the physical side, it could be a plus or minus in the mix; sex could be an acquired taste, but they might still want their person. Maybe John had been trying to say that was Rodney, for him. And it had taken two weeks and all three of his friends hitting him with words for Rodney's genius brain to consider that was the place John saw him from.

"Oh."

Rodney realized he now had Teyla's undivided attention once Wit was settled under the blanket. She had even moved the pillow off behind her, no longer in the immediate danger zone of being thrown at him again.

"I do not mean to speak for anyone, or break any trust. You are both my friends, Rodney. And I have seen many things over the years that I think the two of you do not realize were shared," she said. "The past weeks have gone far beyond the troubles any of us could have expected when Ronon lied to avoid the Omen. So I am worried for you. I know he is, as well. Happy that perhaps you have been, while we were on the mountain, but there is still… much that could go wrong. So I only say something in the hope that it helps."

Rodney nodded quickly. "Yeah… that helped."

He was still stuck on the stress of the past few weeks colliding with the need to relax because he was at home and the added forced rest of being useless for entire hours. He still missed John, even more, possibly. The man was still an idiot. And he was getting a dictionary for his birthday so he could learn to use words that made sense.

It was only going to get more important when they got John and Ronon back to Atlantis, because Teyla was right. It hit their whole team when it wasn't just the two of them stuck in the royal suite. They had to figure out something that worked around their jobs and their lives and their friends. If John had already kept his mouth shut about it for years, there had to be ways around going back to that silence. Maybe he was an idiot, but they worked really well together. At everything.

Rodney shoved at his pillow-bed against the wall, frustrated and a different kind of exhausted.

"And to be completely honest, because you asked…" Teyla's tone had lightened and was almost amused again. "Ronon is not my type. It became very much like kissing my brother and I only just managed to explain that to him before we lost the use of the tablets."

The mention of using the tablets for hidden communication was a probably unintended low-blow. Rodney rolled his eyes, annoyed that he had somehow failed at something his friends had proved proficient in until the technology failed them. That wasn't fair at all.

"I certainly never kissed my sister like that," he replied. He wasn't about to explain his annoyance, however. And somehow he realized he should have expected it when he got smacked in the face by the pillow again.

It wasn't that he fell asleep anymore. Mostly he just passed out. It wasn't convenient and John usually had other things he would rather have been doing than losing consciousness. At least he stayed that way for a few hours when it happened. Passing out with the light on was a regular thing, too, especially when he didn't know where the light controls were. It made waking up a little easier, though the brightness hurt his head.

So when there was noise, like a balanced chair sliding down the wall, John could look back at the door and see that it had opened and the chair had really fallen out of the way. The thing of it was, though, that he was tired. He forgot why the chairs were propped up on the doors in the first place. He was mostly used to Rodney and Ryli moving in and out of the curtained off four-poster bed he had slept in for two weeks, so noises were ignorable. His general awareness wasn't fully online and he forgot where he was, that Rodney wasn't there.

Ryli made a rattling noise and stood up, flapping her wings, but she walked across the bed behind John and left him alone. Nothing flagged through the sleep fog. He just dropped back into sleep.

When he did finally wake up, the room was darker. It took him a moment to realize that the heavy curtains had been let loose and closed the bed off from the rest of the room. He hadn't gotten under the blankets when he fell asleep and woke up curled on his side, warm from the heat of another body snug up behind him. It was new and old, something Nancy had loved to do before the marriage hit the rocks, and something Rodney hadn't yet, that John could remember. He hadn't had a chance before because John always took the side of the bed that let him fall asleep facing Rodney instead because of the stupid cast on his arm.

And the arm slung over his side was a weight at his ribs that added a painful pressure but made up for it by smooth strokes under his shirt, down his belly and to his hip, teasing under the string-tied band of his pants. It was a sleepy rush of feel-good suddenly pushing back on the ache in his head and that alone made it worth chasing down. Even if the last time they had fooled around left John asking for medication, it still did a great job making him feel better while he had it. And it wasn’t like he would get many of those moments with Rodney when he got home. In his half-asleep haze, John leaned back into the kisses being set along his neck and shoulder under the loose shirt collar. He drifted back out on the boost, because for a minute, there was a little less hurt.

The sensation of falling, rolling back, brought John around again. It was accompanied by a pressing weight on his leg and someone massaging his thigh and groin while they leaned against his side. That was different and it woke him up a little more. He moved to catch the hand grabbing at him, clunking his cast into someone. It pinned him in and something wasn’t right. When he managed to get his eyes open, the rest of his head still slowly waking up, he found blue eyes staring down at him from just above him, hanging over his shoulder, and they weren't quite right in the dim light, but then he was being kissed.

For bad and blatant moves, it almost worked. Until John realized something about it was wrong, he had fallen easily into the same recent habit of seeking the comfort of kisses from Rodney, from his partner and friend. But the hand that closed around his bicep to pull him over and draw him in wasn't Rodney. The kiss wasn't his partner.

And the realization cleared the dregs of sleep in a rush of adrenaline that brought with it the memory of where he was and how he had gotten there. He stilled, processing the situation through the muck of a sluggish brain, and it was Wes who took the opportunity to lean over him that much more.

Injured or not, John was done. He was down to one arm to fight with, the cast pinned between them and limiting what he could do anyway, and risking a headbutt was just suicidal. But he had teeth to bite back and could push him off.

He shoved with his left arm and hips. Wes angled up and swung a leg over to kneel over him, still pursuing the kiss keeping the man distracted. John punched him in the ribs but Wes deflected with his elbow. He shifted to brace his arm at John’s shoulder and across his collar, pinning him with his weight at his chest and thighs, and making it that much more difficult to buck off.

It was particularly difficult with a knife in his pocket, and John had to be careful not to stab himself if he moved his leg around too much. So Sheppard solved two problems in one move, pulling the knife from his pocket and scraping the loose leather sheath off between their bodies when he tried again to shove his attacker away. Wes didn’t seem to mind, just kept his weight braced on John’s shoulders. The man's hand held John at the jaw and cheek, shoved against bruises and cuts as it inched higher. Pain lit up in the cut over Sheppard’s ear, keeping him in place.

If it weren’t for the knife in John’s hand, it might have worked. The urge to get away from the fingers digging at his temple was nauseating. John would have done a lot to make it stop, but it wouldn’t work without a fight that John was physically unprepared for.

Instead, he shoved at Wes’ chest with his pinned right arm and the clunky, weak cast as a distraction. He pulled the knife up between them to press the point into the underside of Wes' chin so that the man could feel it was there.

John was able to escape the hold on his head then, shoving himself to one side to get away from Wes’ hand and the forced kiss it trapped him into. Wes levered himself up as John pressed the blade very carefully up to guide him away, the knife lowering to threaten the Regent’s chest and gut as his neck got out of easily defensible reach.

When he still knelt on the blankets, trapping John's legs, only an arm's length off the bed and hovering over him, the knife lowered further, against the inside of Wes' thigh so he could feel the flat of the borrowed blade. In the same general area that his hand had been on John, when they were out on the couch. But those hands were now on the pillow above John's shoulders and he couldn't do much about the knife unless he wanted to move.

"What the actual hell did you think was going to happen here?" John asked, voice raspy and angry. Wes had the gall to smile a little, and from their close proximity, it was clear that John didn't have his full attention despite the knife.

"I wasn't sure, but I wanted to find out," Wes replied. "You can't fault a man for trying."

John turned the knife a little so he could feel the edge more clearly. "Where I'm from, yes I can."

"Yes… maybe I see that," said Wes, going very still.

"Get. Away. Now," John ordered. And he lowered the knife only enough that it wouldn't get grabbed at as Wes complied, even guarded the blade in his left hand with the bulky protection of the cast on his right. When Wes pulled one leg over and was just that little bit off balance, John shoved his shoulder to make him fall and pulled himself up to his knees. He pinned the Regent down with a knee on his arm and a knife at his throat.

"In case it wasn't clear before. I'm not interested. So I'll accept your hospitality on behalf of your people and mine, but this shit? Stops now," said John.

Wes stared up at him, smug in the knowledge that Colonel Sheppard of Atlantis wouldn't be stupid enough to kill the Cairnyth Regent in his own rooms. And John wouldn't, but he would defend himself. And he wasn't smiling back at the man.

"I will walk to the 'gate, no questions asked, if you can't work with me and my team. But if you touch me again, Regent or not, I'll cut something off that you'd probably rather keep." John shifted the knife higher to a more sensitive part of the man's neck and Wes seemed to finally pay attention to the fact that he wasn't playing. He edged himself back into his pillow, a bit further away from anywhere near John.

"I think that would be unnecessary at this point," Wes said, sounding surprisingly sober and clear-eyed on the issue. It seemed promising but John wasn't making the mistake of giving the man the benefit of the doubt. It was safe to say that he had learned that lesson and his head was trying to split open behind his ear because he hadn't learned it fast enough. He squinted in the dim light down at Wes, backed off enough to get off the man's arm so he could be ready to get himself to more stable ground. But the knife didn't move from the man's neck.

"Things seem perfectly clear from here," said Wes, like he was some kind of neutral peacekeeper in the whole thing, negotiating from his rank like nothing had happened. But now that he knew to pay attention, John heard the anger in the voice despite the calm front. "I'm sure, going forward, we can work together just fine."

"I can get to the 'gate and send in a new crew. You can work with them," said John. Wes cracked a grin again.

"Not until you are recovered," he said. He very carefully dropped his hands to the bed. He still stared up at John, watching him closely, but that only made sense given the knife at his throat. "It seems both of us have difficulty with certain explicitly stated agreements. Although I think I was a bit more direct regarding the Disk."

John did smile back then and used the knife to make the man squirm into the bedcovers. "Fine. This is me, being more direct. Hands off. Anything else I can clear up for you?"

Wes shook his head just barely, too aware of the knife, but enough for John. He let the blade rest lower, still noticeably present but not as immediate a threat.

"Good. Now where's Ryli?" he asked, because his little guard-Coppi was not inside the four-poster with them or she would have clawed into Wes' face long before John had to reach for the knife.

Wes nodded toward the curtain not far away. "Enjoying a hoith hock. Quite happily, last I saw."

John removed the threat of the blade's edge as an accepted truce. He moved off from Wes's side, using the ornate headboard as balance and then retreated to the curtains. He didn't want to turn his back on Wes, though, and pointed the knife at the curtains near the other man to get him out of the bed. Wes sat up but didn't seem inclined to move.

"You picked my room," he pointed out, a certain kind of smug about it. "You can't chase me out of my own bed."

John didn't give a damn about the bed, he just wanted out of it without more trouble. He grabbed the dropped knife sheath and then backed carefully through the bed curtains to look for Ryli. The light was still on outside the heavy bed curtains and he was very intentional about how quickly he moved as he looked around so he wouldn't kick up the pain in his head that could randomly make him dizzy. The wrestling match and Wes grabbing his head hadn't helped as it was.

As promised, he found her under a table, sleepily gnawing at a bone with shreds of animal flesh still on it. It was almost as big as she was and could probably keep her busy for a while if she wasn't just as likely to fall asleep on it. Keeping the knife in hand, John sat down in the relative safety of the chair near her and could easily hear when she started to make the noise he figured was her version of purring. At least she had been quiet and safe.

Wes took the time to compose himself before showing his face again and John crossed his arms, as walled off as he could get without leaving the room. That involved walking, however, and would not happen until there were more people between him and the Regent.

"I think it would be a great idea if Nova showed me how to get back to the guest hall," he said, sarcasm doing nothing to hide the blatantly false cheer.

"You realize I could have you arrested," Wes pointed out. He held a hand to his neck like he still had to protect it. John shrugged.

"Sure. But if you do that, you'll have a big problem on your hands when my ship gets here," he replied. The statement from the Regent was tiring, when John was already exhausted and angry. "The big ship. The one that has shields and long range weapons that your Coppi can't touch. I'm sure McKay mentioned it at least once. He told me all about it."

Wes seemed to consider it, not overly cranky but his smug grin not quite so bright. "Yes, it was mentioned."

"So you're going to call Nova in here, they'll get me back to the guest hall, and this. Doesn't happen again," John made the offer while squinting as the headache buzz threatened. He wasn't in a position to keep fighting the Regent on it. But his team and the people behind them would be.

The Regent decided on the friendly route and left the room to call his Aide Provost. John slumped in the chair and watched Ryli. At least now he knew how to buy her off until Rodney got back. He just wasn't sure if he would have any luck removing the bone from her possession in order to leave the room.

As he waited for Nova, Sheppard put the knife back in the sheath and hid it away in his pocket again. He missed his own weapons, his own gear, his own clothes. He missed home. But the borrowed knife had helped him out.

It seemed like Ronon was a solid guy to have around and John was, just then, thankful for his friend's paranoia. It's not paranoia when they're really out to get you, and his friends had seen it when Sheppard couldn't. And now he had his answer on that. He should have just believed his team to start with, trusted their instincts when huge gaps had shredded his own.

Whether it was the adrenaline or the fight itself, John felt sick by the time Nova showed up. They walked in the open door cautiously, like they expected a fight, but that hesitancy was gone when they saw the guest who had demanded their presence in the middle of the night.

"Colonel Sheppard? Are you alright?" they asked. John wasn't but he shrugged it off.

"I got lost and the Regent brought me here instead of back to the guest hall. And I think I need another shot of that anti-inflammatory stuff," he said.

He shoved himself out of the chair, but standing made him dizzy. He wavered and Nova moved like they thought they would have to catch him. It was almost funny because Nova was wiry and shorter than him, and John figured he would just take them both down. But it made him rethink his plan to walk any kind of long distance. The only reason he stayed standing was stubborn refusal to wait anywhere near Wes when he couldn't punch the Regent in the face without screwing things up further.

"I'm not sure you should be walking anywhere, Colonel," Nova said. "Let me call for the doctor-"

"Get me outta here first," he said. Nova didn't like the determination, but they obliged. They offered their shoulder to help John keep his balance and a couple of times he accepted it. Wes was nowhere to be seen when they went back through the main part of the Regent's apartments. Ryli followed along behind, towing the bone she wasn't done with yet.

They made it back to the hallway with the tall Coppi statues with John mostly trailing a hand along the wall to keep himself balanced. Nova repeatedly asked to take him to the doctor and John refused; he wasn't going anywhere without Ronon watching his six until he got back to Atlantis. All other discussion of anything was curbed because John didn't want to deal with it until his head stopped hurting.

The crossroads hallway was intimidating and John stopped, not willing to walk out into the middle of it, even with a guide to make sure he got to the right point. Ryli kept going, dragging her stick of a bone very determinedly and probably even picking the right hall to venture down without the humans accompanying her. But John stopped.

It seemed darker than it should have. Despite the fact that the city had their own form of electricity and the hallways were well lit, everything seemed darker. Right at the crossroads, where John had to walk out into an open area, with no wall to help him keep the world from going sideways on him.

"Colonel?" Nova asked, very clearly noticing when he didn't follow them out. It had already taken three times as long as it should have to cover the distance, and they had still kept pace with him the whole time. So it stood out when he stopped. They pointed toward a hall. "The doctors are just down there-"

"Nope," John said again. He chanced the vertigo and walked out into the cross-section to follow Ryli. Nova frowned at him but kept up, stayed within an arm's reach like they could catch him if he tripped in one of his zigzags. John made it to the wall again and set off in more familiar territory, even as things got steadily darker.

Not long later, the lights went out entirely.

John stopped moving. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Nova asked. They didn’t sound any more concerned than they had since walking into the Regent’s room.

“Why’d the lights- shouldn’t you be more worried about that? Is this a regular thing here?” John asked. He thought he was waving at the general area around him but accidentally hit the Aide Provost in the shoulder.

“I don’t understand,” Nova said. “What are you talking about?”

“The lights. Why are there no lights?” John asked, each word very carefully enunciated due to the increased pain in his head. Nova put a hand on his arm, very firm like they intended to guide him around again.

“Colonel. The lights are on,” they said.

The first instinct was to argue with that, because John could very plainly see that there were no lights in the hall around him. Or rather, he couldn’t see a damn thing at all, and the lack of light was much easier to blame on wonky electricity on a foreign planet than it was to wrap his mind around the idea that he couldn’t see anymore. It was one thing to deal with bruises and broken bones, as those would heal, but he needed his vision. There was no part of life as John knew that would not come to a complete stop if he couldn’t see. “Fuck. Are you- that’s a joke, right?”

There was a clear hesitation from Nova. “No. I can see fine. We should get you back to Specialist Dex and I’ll call the doctors there.”

That seemed like a really good idea but Sheppard wasn’t sure he wanted to try saying so. The strange thing about the dark was that things didn’t feel quite so dizzy. So with Nova’s help, the last half of the trip to the guest hall went a lot quicker.

There was some squawking from Ryli, her mouth still full of the hoith hock she had been given, and the sound of a door opening. Everything around him was still gray-black and John couldn’t see more than impressions of shadows that didn’t seem real at all. He could only tell that Nova had stepped away because he felt the pressure from their hand around his elbow leave, and a moment later heard their voice from somewhere other than right next to him.

“Ronon, the Colonel needs help,” they said. “I need to go get the doctors.”

“What the hell happened?” Ronon wanted to know, from somewhere else, and John stepped toward the sound, completely blind. Ryli started her muffled annoyed hissing and there was a lot of noise of claws scratching over tile, with the added sound of the dragging bone, and then Nova had grabbed his elbow again.

“I’m still trying to sort that out exactly, the Regent was not helpful with details,” said Nova. John scowled at that and was about to swear at the Regent’s entire existence but Ronon derailed it, the man suddenly standing in his space, in front of him, and adding to the moving gray and black shadows that John could barely see. He could more smell the man than see him, which was something entirely weird to have to mentally process when his head already hurt.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ronon asked. Yep, very close.

“I can’t fucking see. The Regent grabbed my head and now I can’t see,” John managed, a particular distaste added to the title. There was movement in front of him and John flinched because it seemed close and he didn’t know where to dodge, but Nova still had their hand on his arm to keep him where he was.

“Ronon! Stop! Just help the Colonel, I’ll get the doctors and sort out the Regent, but I cannot do all at once. So help him. Stay here with him. We will figure this out.”

There wasn’t much that needed figuring out, and John didn’t feel like talking to point that out. But he didn’t argue when Ronon took his other arm and moved him away from Nova. He kept bumping into Ronon because the man took much larger strides than Nova and was harder to predict when he couldn’t see. His friend still got him to what felt like a couch as Ronon put hands on his shoulders and backed him up to the seat. John reached for the back of it and set himself down very carefully.

“What the hell happened?” Ronon asked again. John reached into his pants pocket as Ryli and her new chew toy jumped up onto the couch beside him. She beat him with the end of the leg bone as she settled down and resumed the weird purring and noisy chewing. John held the knife out, unseeing where it ended up and just guessing it was in the right vicinity of his friend. It wasn’t going to do him any good if he couldn’t see anything. Ronon took it and held onto it until John let go.

“That,” John said, tapping the end of the sheath before dropping his hand back to his lap. “Was a good call.”

Chapter Text

The radio woke the whole apartment some hours later, including the finally sleeping Coppi, and Rodney groggily pulled himself toward the door. He hadn’t gotten much in the way of sleep after his chat with Teyla, and Wit refused to stay buried in his blanket for more than an hour at a time.

The grumpy, sore exhaustion was its own effective distraction and Teyla had to point out to him that he was still in sweat pants and a t-shirt when he tried to answer Elizabeth's radioed summons. The couch-potato fashion was not exactly presentable to the SGC in order to ask for any favors. And ZPM or no ZPM, Rodney still had to borrow Sam Carter, of all people. He definitely needed to change clothes. So they stopped back at his quarters for a quick change before rushing to the gateroom.

Wit refused to stay in his nest bag, kept climbing up Teyla's back and clinging to the bag's shoulder strap, so she had a small Coppi head poked over her shoulder and peering around at everyone in the control room. There were more people in the room, as it was now well into daytime operations in Atlantis, and no one seemed to know what to do with a tiny dragon other than stare at it. Teyla scrunched her nose at the attention but somehow still managed to seem more professional with a dragon on her shoulder than John or Rodney could have.

The stargate was open, glowing the reassuring bright blue, and the screen behind the Ops consoles showed the familiar dark shadows of the Stargate Command control room. It was a return to his element after a few hours of feeling completely thrown off and Rodney took a deep breath as he saw the General and Colonel Carter. Elizabeth smiled at him in welcome as Rodney approached.

"I've given them some additional background, but I can't fill in the finer details," she said, motioning Rodney toward their chain of command.

"Hey… What's happened to Colonel Sheppard, Rodney?" Sam Carter asked, right to it as she leaned toward the camera.

"Everything," Rodney replied. He was admittedly the worst one on their team to discuss anything medical, but for actual weeks he had been the only one permitted near John to make the report.

"Okay… that's a lot vague. Can we narrow it down a little?" Sam asked, a slight smile on her face, but a noticeable impatience behind it. "There are some things we can't fix, is the thing. I want to make sure we're not wasting your ZPM on this when his best bet may be the Daedalus otherwise."

“My albeit limited understanding is that it can’t fix dead, and he’s not dead,” Rodney replied. “At least, he wasn’t when we left. He can’t remember a lot of the last two years. He gets these headaches, he hurt his ribs, and he broke his arm. But it’s the head trauma that’s the problem here. The Regent and the Scholars won’t let him through the ‘gate until they’re convinced it won’t make the damage permanent. These people don’t use the ‘gate so they don’t know anything about it, apparently, and they won’t listen to reason. We all tried.”

“The concern with waiting until the Daedalus arrives is the head trauma,” added Teyla. “It has already been two weeks. And while they have cared for him as they could, and he supposedly did get better, it is still concerning that almost the moment he moved up the mountain, where he is now, John’s headaches came back.”

Rodney nodded. “He was better. Gravity’s a little different there and barometric pressure is wonky. You can set a watch by the rain on the mountain. And we had gotten him off their medications when we were on the coast but now he’s back on them because the kit ran out. I don’t even know what they were giving him, but it knocked him out every time.”

Sam stood up and crossed her arms as she looked at the General. "I don't know that it will get his memory back, but it sounds like it should be fixable. If they've got the power for it, we can try it. I can come back on the Daedalus if it's only a two-way ticket," she said.

"It's not," said Rodney, fully confident in that. As hard as it was for him to believe, the Cairnyth really had handed off a fully functional ZPM. "This thing is fully powered. With the numbers I saw yesterday, we could do this every day for a month and it wouldn't make a difference. It's just getting it into shape."

That raised eyebrows and Sam nodded. "Then I think we're good to go. As soon as you get here."

Rodney would have left at that moment but he realized there was a flaw in the plan: he didn’t have the ZPM. He pointed to the open stargate. "How long do we have left on this connection?"

"Radek," said Elizabeth, speaking into her earwig radio. "Major Lorne. If you would, head back."

“They have it?” Rodney asked. At Elizabeth’s nod, he started to leave and then stopped and looked back at the live connection on the screen back to the SGC. “Uh. It’ll be a minute. But I’m on the way.”

“We’ll see you then, Dr. McKay,” said Landry. For her part, Sam nodded and walked away, which seemed like an acceptable cue for Rodney to do the same. The lights around them faded but it was hardly noticeable; Rodney only noticed because he was looking for it.

He pounced down the stairs to the gateroom and paced as he waited. A few minutes later, Evan Lorne jogged in, carrying the metal case that had been designed for the original ZPM. It felt heavy enough but Rodney was still concerned. He almost opened the case to check but instead looked up at the Major.

“It’s in here, right? I don’t want to get stuck there,” he said. Lorne nodded soberly, the annoying man hardly winded from the rush between buildings and the multitude of stairs.

“You’re ready to go, Doc,” he said. Rodney decided to believe him and hurried through the stargate. The 'gate-lag was going to be brutal by the time they could finally get John home.

The fact that Rodney had crossed two galaxies in the same time it took him to draw a breath was amazing and impressive as a concept, but just then it was another ‘gate trip back to familiar territory. So familiar he didn’t even have his gear.

He hardly bothered with greeting the airmen who had been sent as his escorts around the base. McKay knew his way around. They were in the way, if anything, and they respectfully ordered him to make a stop at the meeting room before allowing him to get to the operations room to plug in the ZPM to get back home. It wasn’t unexpected, but it was annoying.

What was unexpected, however, was seeing who waited for him. Landry was a given, but General Jack O’Neill less-so. That, Rodney assumed, was good news, as the General seemed to have been inclined toward not hanging the Atlantis team out to dry the last time they had been on the same planet.

Landry however had still been his cranky old self at every check-in, and John had usually made sure he was off-world when there was planned communications with the brass, whenever possible. He said he kept expecting Landry to bring up that time he promised to end his career and just preferred not to risk reminding him. Rodney, on the other hand, fully planned to remind General O'Neill. If he had to.

"Dr. McKay," greeted Landry. Jack nodded his version of the formality and Rodney absently returned it.

"Generals," he said. He held up the box with the ZPM. "Not to be rude, but can we make this quick? I need to get the rig and hook this up and that can take a minute and we really should be as quick as-"

"In due time," said General Landry. "I wanted to be explicitly clear with the ground rules."

Rodney stared, eyes slowly widening as he processed. "Ground rules?"

Landry nodded and stood up from where he had been seated at the end of the table. He approached, not looking exactly angry but definitely looking like a cranky General. "Ground rules, Dr. McKay. The last time you were here, your team seemed to have a problem with orders. So they’re being stated up front. Firstly, there's the one that dictates that you do not go anywhere on this base without a two-man escort, all times."

"That's- I mean, I'm not here long, but that's ridi-" Rodney stopped short of calling the ground rules ridiculous, but it was a close thing. "I mean, what about the bathroom?"

"All times," Landry replied. Rodney shut his mouth and decided that should the situation arise, he would just wait until he got home.

"Uh. All times. Got it. Yes sir," he said.

"Good. Then the next change in policy is that you will have the assistance of Dr. Lee to assemble the rig," Landry went on.

Rodney bit his tongue on arguing that. This should have been expected. It was one thing to ask for favors from the innocuous safety of another galaxy, something entirely different to expect them on territory where he had very definitely disobeyed military orders, on military property, to the point of arguable treason, according to one of Landry's rants months earlier. It had been nearly a year since he and John had stolen the Puddlejumper and hijacked the stargate, but apparently that didn't mean Landry trusted him. In the interests of hurrying it along, Rodney nodded.

"Right. Dr. Lee. Got it."

"And thirdly, the ZPM will need to stay here. Colonel Carter will be returning on the Daedalus. The city has a functional ZPM, we need one for the resources here," said Landry. Not actually believing the man's words, Rodney blinked at him. He even tucked the box behind him, out of the General's easy reach. Landry noticed and just raised an eyebrow. "I just wanted to be sure you had time to adjust to that idea."

"No," said Rodney, quite firmly, surprising even himself. "All due respect, General, but no. Jo- Colonel Sheppard put his life on the line for this, for the city. We cannot actually leave this here. It would run the city for years, at power. If you need a ZedPM for the chair here, that's fine, we'll send the other back. It can handle anything you need here. But this one, we need."

"We're looking to defend an entire planet, Dr. McKay," said Landry. "Billions of people. Not power a city."

That was certainly a valid argument and Rodney hesitated. Still sitting comfortable and unconcerned at the table, General O'Neill cleared his throat, polite but lazy about joining in.

"Sounds good to me," he said. Rodney looked over at him, ready to argue, except even his genius brain didn't have the data to weigh the numbers of potentially billions of lives against the Ancients city. O'Neill carried on. "Except one thing, Hank. The Daedalus is two weeks out from Atlantis. And then another three weeks from home."

"Colonel Carter's schedule allows for the delay," Landry replied, nodding. He looked back at O'Neill as the other General stood to join their little tete-a-tete. "Her duties are rearranged and redistributed for the time being."

Jack shrugged and nodded, shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's nice, but mine aren't. And can't be. I actually have responsibilities now and have to be back before bedtime."

Landry turned toward the General more directly. "You're not going."

"Actually, I am. Our little Goa'uld device here is the responsibility of Homeworld. We need to keep track of things like this in case someone or something pops up their little alien heads looking for it," said O'Neill. He smiled back as Landry's face pinched. "So, in this instance, the device goes where I goes. And vice versa."

Rodney felt relief at that and a slow smile escaped. "Which means, just to clarify, we do have to take this ZedPM back. Otherwise we can't send them back to Earth."

"Precisely," said O'Neill, nodding. "And Carter and I can bring the ZPM-thingy back with us when we're done. The chair won't need it in the few hours we're gone." He paused and looked back to Rodney. "It will only be a few hours, correct? Just zap our good Lt. Colonel and come on back?"

Rodney nodded and then realized what he was agreeing to and hesitated. "Well, in theory, yes. There is some travel but the Jumper will take care of it."

Landry's expression darkened at the mention of the Jumper. Rodney squared his shoulders. "Well, I mean, it's our Jumper…"

"See, a few hours," Jack said, jumping in to keep the topic away from the question of stolen gateships. "That's much more manageable on my schedule than five weeks. And I definitely did not pack for five weeks. Five hours, tops. Maybe ten, since these boys tend to run late."

Landry didn't appreciate the submarining and Rodney didn't appreciate the slight against his productivity, but neither of them argued with the man holding responsibility for the necessary healing device. With the ground rules laid out, Rodney and his escort were allowed to go see to setting up the ZPM to get the stargate powered up for the return trip. The final caveat, that Rodney wasn't allowed to touch any computers without Bill Lee's authority and supervision, was added mostly as a parting blow and Rodney bit his tongue rather than waste more time arguing about it.

The presence of Dr. Lee alternately hanging over his shoulder or buzzing around like an annoying gnat was exactly as obnoxious as Rodney assumed it would be.

"I know you were planning it all out, for weeks, probably," Lee prattled on. Rodney let him ramble because it meant that he wasn't paying attention to what Rodney was working on. That way, he could work faster without having to stop and argue with the idiot about the proper way to assemble the power connections to their system's interface. Lee, of course, didn't notice. "You probably had to coach her on everything, didn't you?"

There was obviously an expected answer but Rodney hadn't been paying attention to the question. He looked up after a blessed extended silence that had allowed him to sync the necessary systems via a (properly authorized) tablet to account for the power boost. "Who-what?"

"Elizabeth. Dr. Weir. You coached her. On gaming," said Lee.

Rodney pulled a face, kept his scoff to a minimum. "No. I didn't have to."

Lee seemed to misinterpret his meaning and went wide-eyed. "So you're saying she really plays- wait. If you didn't coach her… do you think I have a chance?"

Rodney tried to focus on the final stages and mostly ignored the question. He pretended he hadn't heard it, because he wasn't even going to justify it with an answer. A moment later, the ZPM was ready to go.

"Well?" Lee asked.

"They can dial any time," Rodney said.

"That wasn't what I asked about," said Lee.

Rodney had the strangest urge to go for the man's throat with his bare hands. "I'm sorry?" he said instead, because he wanted to go back to Pegasus, not the brig.

"Do you think I have a chance? If you didn't coach her on everything-"

"Oh for the love of-" Rodney shoved up to his feet and grabbed the radio off one of his escorts. He made the report to Harriman in Operations himself as Lee glared at him, arms crossed. When Rodney reached for the tablet off the portable workstation by the power converter, Lee snatched it back before he got to it.

"Fine. It's been, what, a year?" Rodney finally replied. Lee's annoyance with him faltered.

"Something like that."

"Were you fired?" Rodney asked. Lee frowned at him, looked around at the computer closet they were tucked away in, within the bowels of a top secret military facility.

"No," he said, because it was obvious. Rodney nodded.

"Right. You weren't fired. She saved the General and the IOA guy and at least a dozen other people since then. Fast forward to the Now, where I'm trying to save Colonel Sheppard. With her assistance and authorization. And you're wasting my time. Asking me what, exactly?"

There was a guilty silence and, after a moment to think it over, Lee handed over the tablet. "Nevermind."

"Thank you." Rodney snatched back the tablet and watched the numbers and graphs on the screen as they indicated the new ZPM fired up for the stargate upstairs to form the initial connection to the Pegasus 'gate. At least, he hoped it was the Pegasus 'gate and not some scheduled SG team excursion bumping McKay's objective off the priority list.

A minute later, Jack O'Neill showed up to collect Rodney and the ZPM, personally. "Let's go, doc."

Rodney set to work immediately walking back all of the work he had just done to connect the Lantean technology to the SGC's computer system, leaving as much of it in place as he could because he didn't trust that Lee or anybody there was smart enough to replicate it if they needed it later. When he had to send back a ZPM. Which would definitely not be the Cairnythian ZPM. The module went back in the silver carrying box it had arrived in and Rodney hurried to join the General in the hall.

"Thank you," he said as they walked toward the SGC 'gate. It did not escape his notice that the General was escorting the ZPM back to Atlantis as much as the Goa'uld device. O'Neill nodded, barely noticeable.

"Ten hours, max," he said. "After that, I start to get cranky."

"Right," said Rodney, not about to make any promises after the last few weeks.

They met up with Sam Carter in the gateroom and it dawned on Rodney that both the General and the Colonel were in field gear, like any other off-world mission. In contrast to his blue-gray jacket and blue shirt, armed with nothing but a ZPM in a box. It had been actual weeks since he had worn field gear, and it was startling.

"Hey, Rodney," Carter greeted. She sounded tired and Rodney realized that she probably hadn't slept in a while but was walking through the 'gate again. On his say-so and no other proof. If he hadn't already been in love with her at some point, it would have pushed him over, but it was fair to say they had thankfully both moved on. He waved a hand toward the glowing event horizon just up the ramp.

"I assume we're cleared for arrival?" he asked. Sam smiled and nodded.

"They are waiting," she said. Rodney looked to the General.

"And you have the-" he trailed off as O'Neill patted down pockets and nodded.

"Good to go. After you," he said. Rodney felt a little closer to being able to take a full breath and started up the ramp to go home.

After three trips to three different planets with three very different atmospheric and gravitational conditions, the return through the Atlantis 'gate felt like walking into a wall. The lag was real and Rodney could have used a nap, but there wasn't time. He escorted the ZPM up to Zelenka in Operations, with strict instructions not to get the two modules mixed up when he installed it again. O'Neill and Carter went on to talk to Elizabeth but were almost instantly derailed by the sight of Wit stretched out across the strap of his nest bag along Teyla's chest.

"I'm sorry. Is that a dragon?" O'Neill asked, completely off the topic of the status report he had initially asked for.

"Yes," said Teyla, amusement showing. "And no. He is a Coppi, a gift from Cairnyth, but the Colonel and Rodney call them dragons."

O'Neill squinted at her, eyebrows raising just as quickly. "Them?"

"John has the other one," said Rodney. "And Ronon. It was the best we had to offer as guard dogs on no notice."

"Well, that doesn't make me feel any better about this project," replied the General. "Scuttlebutt was these people are ignorant and confused allies. Guard dogs should not have been necessary."

"Given John's condition, we thought it best," Teyla said, being diplomatic at great effort. Rodney wasn't feeling so kind.

"The people are alright, but the guy at the top is a con," he replied.

"Vict or artiste?" O'Neill asked. Rodney nodded and shrugged.

"Yes?"

"There were a few miscommunications along the way," Teyla said. "Colonel Sheppard thought they were worth the effort of the alliance and put a lot of work into it before the accident. Since then, our team has been welcomed as ambassadors. I think we should carry on as John initially asked of us."

"That's all well and good, providing they actually let us bring him home this time," replied Rodney. His teammate nodded.

"Which is precisely why we will approach this as a diplomatic mission, and have a second team in a Jumper waiting at the 'gate, just in case you need them," said Elizabeth. She crossed her arms as Teyla nodded her agreement with the plan that the two of them had obviously cooked up while Rodney was gone.

"We can approach in good faith and still be prepared to protect our own," Teyla added. "Good faith does not require being blind to the realities of the situation."

Rodney scrunched his nose at the logic, still stuck on the gifted ZPM that had so far been exactly what he had been promised. Nothing else seemed to match expectations, but that one thing had definitely exceeded them.

"Diplomatic meaning no guns?" he asked. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him.

"I believe you were armed when you left last time," she said.

"Yeah, but after a few days in the royal suite with a dizzy headcase and a dragon who likes to grab shiny things with her tiny little fingers, I had to lock it up in the Jumper," replied Rodney. If he had been thinking, he wouldn't have said that. Elizabeth did the glare where she narrowed her eyes without pinching up the rest of her face and her eyebrows made judgey arches on her forehead.

"Those are the things you were supposed to take care of through training," she reminded him. Completely unnecessary. He waved toward the inactive stargate out the window of her office.

"We weren't exactly planning on a landslide. We were busy. Not our fault Teyla's some kinda Disney Princess with animals and Ronon's… Ronon," he offered up, frustrated. "And! Wit stayed tiny, so he's not so grabby as Ryli."

At the mention of the other Coppi, Wit let out a pitiful, rattling whine. Rodney sighed and glared up at the ceiling. "Can we just go now?"

There was a long quiet then, or at least it felt long to Rodney. Sam stared at him, looking quite surprised, and O'Neill looked suspicious.

"Did I miss a memo? Royal suite, dragons-" the General said. Worse, Sam nodded along.

"You may have, General," said Elizabeth. The annoyance in her voice at Rodney's apparently poor training skills traded off for caution. "The team had to adopt cover stories of being married in order to avoid certain rituals of the Cairnythian trade agreements. That's why they were given the Coppi."

"And why Rodney was the only one of the team allowed around John after his injury," added Teyla. "A rule which we violated leaving Ronon with him to return home. But it could not be helped."

"John doesn't even remember Ronon," Rodney said miserably. "He just trusts him more than them."

"Damn. That's never good," said O'Neill. Rodney nodded.

"Hence why we can't wait for the Daedalus and why we should be going now," he replied.

"Hold on a minute," the General said. "I get our guy's in trouble, but, as she just said, we are not walking in there blind on this. These are not friendlies."

Rodney started to argue but Sam caught his attention. "They gave you a ZPM," she said quickly, redirecting the focus of the General's point. "What are their tech capabilities?"

"They have dragons, Carter," muttered O'Neill. Sam squinted at him but otherwise ignored him and looked back to Rodney.

"They have computers but I never got my hands on anything," Rodney said. "We were under surveillance, I am sure of it, I just haven't figured out how. They're dressed up like they never escaped the Renaissance, but they're post-industrial and just really dedicated to how their ancestors did things. The computers are in the walls, in their desks, they even have medical scanners..."

"Oh for the love of pete." O'Neill was clearly becoming less and less interested in the rescue option. Sam set a hand on his arm to quiet him.

"Look, I know they had something," Rodney said, frustrated. "I got the readings everywhere. But everything was just… not used around us. I saw a screen one time. I couldn't even get them to explain the power source when we were trying to tap into it for our gear…"

"Okay… let's look at that first," said Sam. She raised a hand to push back on the protest from Rodney and Teyla both about another delay. "I think we understand the Colonel's situation, guys. But we can't walk in there and make it worse. We can't trust people we don't trust, I'm sorry, but in our experience it always ends up badly. So we figure out what makes them tick. We go over the information we have available and we find something we can work with. And I want to start with their power supply."

"I don't know what it is," Rodney repeated. Sam nodded.

"But you have readings. I want to see the data," said the other scientist. "We need an exploitable advantage, otherwise we risk another team against an army with dragons, apparently. We can't do anything about dragons, but their technology is another story. Between you and me, I'm sure we can get somewhere on that angle."

And Rodney scowled because she was right.

It was very different arguing with someone in person than it was arguing with them over email from a galaxy far away. They had fifteen days of data to sort through, from his gear and from the onboard monitors on the Puddlejumper, and Carter was running on a few hours sleep and 'gate lag, just like Rodney was. And O'Neill showed up every once in a while to remind them he planned to get cranky after the ten hour mark.

By the time Jack gave them the six-hour warning, it had become their one unifying point amidst the loud discussion of numbers and patterns and inconsequential data. Sam looked up at Jack in the door and crossed her arms as she straightened up to glare, and Rodney rolled his eyes and held his hands out to wave at the six laptops, five tablets, and four extra humans they had working in the room, all trying to make sense of everything Rodney had collected.

"I'm just saying, normally you two get together and something has exploded by now, and the odds go up the longer this goes on," Jack said, not apparently bothered by their annoyance. Rodney tossed a wave at Zelenka.

"That's what he's here for. The anti-blower-upper. Guaranteed to moderate forward progress by fifteen percent. Happy?" McKay replied. His friend poked his head over the top of his laptop screen to frown at his unappreciated sarcasm. Sam didn't seem amused, either, but her expression switched to confusion by the time she looked over at Rodney again.

"Hang on. Fifteen percent."

Rodney blinked at her. "What? Arbitrary number. You want the actual math on that?"

"I do," muttered Radek, but Rodney ignored him.

"Moderate. So twenty. Fifteen, seven and a half…" Carter had gone back to ignoring O'Neill and leaned over her laptop, making no sense whatsoever as she worked something out. And absolutely refused to clue any of them in on what she was doing.

So Rodney left his laptop to go spy over her shoulder as she layered the different data sets on the small screen, comparing numbers. He recognized the numbers from a week on the mountain and a week at the ocean-side city. The computer clunked out a graph of each and the lines created similar patterns, but were much stronger at the higher elevation. Sam pointed to the screen.

"Okay, this is a little crazy. But… just go with me on it for a minute," she said. Rodney frowned at the screen.

"For the record, at this point, I'll go with anything that gets us in a Jumper," he said. "We're getting nowhere and the General's right. It's been four hours…"

It felt like they were wasting time, and staring at numbers and graphs wasn't helping. Something on the screen caught his eye and he took over the laptop to rearrange windows.

Sam had been looking at the planet's seismic data, including the day of the landslide. The Jumper's sensors indicated the place had regular quakes, smaller ones almost daily, that had never registered for Rodney, aside from the one that tried to kill John. And they indicated the tremors were all deep, deeper than what Rodney was used to reading on Atlantis' sensors, miles and miles down under the surface.

Except the one that caused the landslide was shallow. The Jumper data indicated it had no single origin and was instead simultaneous quakes from many places over a four mile radius. That didn't make any sense…

"If this planet has a Schumann-like resonance, it's much higher than Earth's," Sam said, pointing to the mirrored data lines Rodney had moved to one side of the screen. "More active."

"It rained every day on the mountain but I rarely saw lightning or heard thunder," Rodney replied. It happened, but not often. Sam waved that off.

"Not every upper boundary will look like Earth's," Sam pointed out. She tapped the screen over the seismic data. "What if theirs is underground? I mean, there's some kind of regular frictional activity down there. Maybe volcanic, maybe just lightning. Maybe they tapped into it with something like Wardenclyffe Tower and figured out how to use the planetary resonance for transmission."

"That would explain why it was everywhere," said Rodney.

She was right; it was crazy. And McKay could kick himself if she was on to something with it, because he had been stuck on that planet for weeks and not put it together. But he hadn't looked into the numbers on the Jumper sensors.

He had been more worried about John, the other half of their team in another damn city, and the DHD and the stargate. He had been looking for the kind of technological bugs that Ryli couldn't eat. But now… it made sense. It could even explain their capabilities to spy and overhear every conversation, supposing the RF transmitted the same frequencies as the energy. Sam nodded and pointed at the screen again.

"And look at the atmospheric pressure difference between elevations. And the change in ELF is consistent. Like it's moving closer to source," she said. "It's not perfect, but… it gives us something to look for."

"And what does all that mean in English?" O'Neill asked from where he still leaned in the doorway of the lab.

"It means we look for a really big Tesla tower," said Rodney, distractedly looking through the different screens of information. Sam shifted slightly to look back at the General.

"If we find that, if that's really where they get their power from, we park a gateship nearby and we have something to negotiate with," she said.

"If this is really it… These are the most obnoxious-" Rodney broke off on the rant before it got going. It would just figure that he would have to play nice with the Cairnyth Scholars if he wanted to figure out how they did it. He waved a frustrated hand at the screen. "I mean, really. They said it was an endless power supply, looked at me like I was mad when I asked about a generator station. And they figured out how to go wireless with electromagnetic energy. I'll bet there's some kind of frequency converter, maybe built in…"

Sam patted his shoulder in sympathy. "We still don't know. Until we go there to check it out…"

The invitation hung there until McKay managed to pull his mind away from the possibility that the planet occupants had really, generations earlier, figured out how to tap into the planet itself as a power source. He wasn't going to start talking to birds or building laser guns any time soon, but the Nobel possibilities from bringing that kind of technology back to Earth someday…

But Sam had said they could go check it out. Which meant through the stargate. And checking in with Ronon and John. Rodney slapped the laptop closed and moved to start shutting down the next computer he had to pack.

Chapter Text

The lights were off but Sheppard was still home. And he hated it. He knew better than to sleep off the newest blow, but he still stared around at darkness and shadows. It was like some places were darker than others, but he couldn't see anything. That didn't stop him from looking when he heard noises or felt Ryli crawl in his lap. She started up her purring clatter and John swore he could see his vision ripple color until he tried to focus on it. Then it just went back to gray-blackness.

The new doctor did his scans, John heard the buzz of the wand floating around his head even if he couldn’t see the stupid lights anymore, and the Scholars had their turns poking at his head. Ronon was still around somewhere because he had helped get Ryli stuck under a blanket so she would leave the doctors alone. As it was, even under the blanket in John’s lap, he heard her hiss and randomly snap her jaws and felt her dive blindly at the people around him. All he could do about it was sit in the chair and try not to fall over; someone kept putting a hand on his shoulder and making him sit up straight because he didn’t realize that he wasn’t.

“You were told not to hit your head again,” someone said. John didn’t recognize their voice, though he thought it was somehow familiar.

“I didn’t,” he reported back, annoyed. “Someone else did that. So can you fix it or not?”

“Your eyes are clear. This is your mind,” came the reply.

“We can continue to treat the inflammation, as Melann did, but we can’t guarantee that it will restore your sight. The scans will show if there’s more to be worried about,” said someone else. It was a problem when they ganged up around him because John wanted to turn to face whoever was speaking but quick movements weren’t smart, and it didn’t do any good anyway when he couldn’t see where to look.

“Don’t give him anything that’ll put him to sleep this time,” he heard Ronon growl from somewhere behind them all.

“Should you be here?” someone asked, not speaking at John. “Where is Dr. McKay?”

“He went home,” John said, talking over Ronon saying the same thing. “To get my doctor. Since you won’t let me through the Disk.”

“It’s not safe. Especially now. You will certainly never see again if you try it,” one of them clucked, disapproving of the suggestion. Someone touched John’s head when he wasn’t expecting it and he jerked back, struck out blindly to sweep them away from him. It set off Ryli and she started squawking and shoving at the blanket in as much of a panic as he was from the surprise.

“I have the anti inflammatory, Colonel,” someone said. “Your shot.”

“I don’t want the one that’ll put me to sleep,” said John, frustrated by the incident and wanting to make sure he was listened to.

“Told you,” said Ronon, and it sounded like he was standing closer that time.

“The sedative is something else. This should not put you to sleep, more than just relax you,” one of the doctors said. Not that John couldn’t use a break, but he was having to think really hard about taking the risk. He finally allowed it, but the deciding factor was mostly that he wanted the doctors to leave.

When there was nothing else they could do, all tests had been taken and all treatment advice doled out among them, they went off to make sense of their scans. John resorted to a Marco-Polo-game check to be sure Ronon hadn’t followed them out.

“No, I locked them out,” Ronon replied, and he sounded grumpy enough about it. John accepted it and let Ryli loose from the blanket-trap. She jumped out, wings flapping, and ran off somewhere, claws scratching on the stone floors as she hissed her annoyance at the strangers who had already left. Then she came back, jumped on the chair next to John, and hit him with something. The new favorite chew toy was back and propped up against his leg to help her hold it still. At least it kept her out of trouble while John couldn’t actually see what trouble she got into.

One of the gray shadows moved in John’s peripheral and he looked up to track it to where Ronon sat down on a nearby chair from the sounds of it, and then he disappeared into the blur of dark again.

“Have you heard from them yet?” Sheppard asked. It was probably a waste of time, Ronon probably would have said something, but he had to check. Wishful thinking. He wanted the Daedalus to show up and scoop them out and he wanted someone to fix what had been screwed up.

The shot wasn’t helping him relax much, John was too aware of the fact that he couldn’t see, and realizing all at once how much he depended on sight. He sat in a castle, on another planet, surrounded by people determined to keep him from leaving it, and he couldn’t even cross the room on his own to get himself out of it. He wanted Rodney back and he wanted him to get him home, like they had planned on. If John couldn’t see, the entire plan was shot.

“Nope.” Ronon didn’t sound exactly pleased with the report. “Not so much as static.”

“What the hell is taking so long?” John complained back.

"Probably Carson. He hates the 'gate," Ronon replied.

"I think he can get over it for once," said John, bitter about it.

"Or it's the part where they attacked us at the 'gate and wouldn't let you leave," said Ronon, sounding just a little flippant, especially considering the room was bugged. "Stuff like that's a little close to unfriendly. Weir might be doing something. Probably waiting on Caldwell."

"Whatever they're doing, they're not doing it here, and I'm a little pissed off about it," John replied.

"No, you're pissed off because you can't see."

"That too, damn it."

There was a frustrating quiet. John didn't know what to do with himself, other than sit and listen and get paranoid about getting jumped.

"Can I kick his ass if he shows up?" Ronon asked eventually. John really wanted to approve the plan but he needed Ronon to not end up under arrest for attacking the country's royals.

"Blind is bad enough, how about we take a pass on getting ourselves killed, huh?"

"Fine. I'll wait."

"For what? Not getting killed should be a standing order," John said.

"Daedalus will get here eventually," replied Ronon, perfectly confident in his conclusion. It was just one more frustration as the man ignored him, when John had hoped at least his team would listen.

"Damn it, I took care of it, okay? I don't need anybody defending my honor or something stupid-"

"Uh uh. Nope. Not that," said Ronon, talking over him. "This doesn't just take you out. If you can't see, it takes out the whole team. My team. And Teyla's, and McKay's, and yours. That… I can have something to say about that."

He had a point. There wasn't any good argument against it. Sheppard didn't try.

"Fine. Whatever," he muttered. He slouched forward, elbows on his knees, and set his head in his hands, needing to rest but too afraid to lay down where he might pass out. Ryli burrowed in under his arms and sat on his legs, her back and wings arched up like she wanted to prop up his chest. She started up her raspy purring and it rattled through him, triggered those same weird color-waves in his otherwise grayed-out vision as before. He didn't know what it was, but he hoped it meant the gray wasn't really permanent.

There was a knock across the room, probably on the doors to the guest hall because it sounded like Ronon was still sitting in the chair near John. Ryli was still in his lap so it wasn't like she had gotten into something.

"The doctors weren't gone long enough," Ronon said.

"Any radio traffic?" John asked.

"Nope."

"Then I'm not expecting anyone." John curled a little more around the Coppi leaning on him and she changed her noise to a clicking chatter, butted at his chin with her flat-spiked face. Maybe she wasn't a cat but she sometimes acted like one, complete with claws.

The door knocked again. Ronon was noisy about shoving out of the chair and his sleeve brushed inches in front of John, close enough he felt the movement. The footsteps managed to sound intentional and maybe even angry, like he was heading for a fight, but maybe John had just gotten paranoid.

"I don't want to have to smell the inside of a castle dungeon, Chewie," he reminded his friend, annoyed but not about to start an argument over it. Then it sounded like Ronon stopped.

"What'd you just call me?" he asked. He almost sounded angry and, without any backup from visual cues, John had to stop and try to remember for certain what words had come out of his mouth.

"Chewie," he said then, a slow realization hitting that he had used the name on Ronon many times before. "I made you watch Star Wars for that."

"Fine," Ronon said, walking away again. "I won't hit anybody."

"Thanks," John replied, but he was already distracted again, poking at tentative memories and trying to chase them down. Across the room, the door opened, and a moment later, Ryli's talking-sounds stopped, traded for a belly-deep growl that caused the little shadows of the color waves in John's vision to turn red. He shifted to hang on to her better, using the cast as a sort of blockade, and clicked his tongue to try to steal her attention and shush her.

"What do you want," he heard Ronon say, flat tone making it clear that it wasn't a question he cared about the answer to. That more or less narrowed the potential visitors list down to one and John kept quiet rather than distract the man from his efforts at not hitting anyone.

"To speak with the Colonel," said the Regent of Cairnyth.

"I don't think so," replied Ronon. There was a sound like a door being kicked or hit and a small scuffle, enough to have Ryli changing the pitch of her growl to something closer to her scared chirps. John let go of her enough to reach for the blanket to try to wrap her up again.

"Knock it off," he ordered in the general direction of the noises at the door. And he tried to tell himself it was less for Ryli's mood and more for consideration of the ache in his head.

"Thank you," said Wes. And then he was on his way into the room, past Ronon, because he either wasn't very smart or he had entirely too much faith in his status as Regent. Probably both. John reluctantly sat up a little, wrapping Ryli up in her blanket to quiet her hissing at the Regent. He might have bought her off with her weight in raw meat but that didn't mean she liked him any better. That wasn't saying much, though, as she didn't really like anyone except her humans and probably Wit.

"Nova said you’ve lost your sight now," the Regent said, stopped somewhere near John but not close enough that he could see the gray shadows move.

"Remember that thing your docs kept saying about not hitting my head? Yeah, that goes for other people hitting it, too," John replied, not amused by the act that the Regent had any concerns for anyone's health.

"Hey, back off," said Ronon, the order accompanied by boots moving on stone. Sheppard sat back a little further, still not able to tell when someone was approaching until they were in his space.

"There are guards at the door, call for help if you need to," said Wes, an order that didn't sound like it was aimed at John. "But you stand back. I am here to speak with the Colonel, not you."

"So talk, then," John cut in. "What do you want?"

"There was an obvious misunderstanding. I certainly did not mean to hurt you, let alone for this to happen," Wes said.

"I think I was pretty damn clear," John replied, his head throbbing as his anger climbed a notch higher.

"Oh, yes, once the knife was involved," returned Wes. "It obviously wasn't necessary and made everything worse."

"No, I think it was very necessary," John said. "That's bullshit."

"If you hadn't cut me, I wouldn't have accidentally hit your head," said the Regent, conveniently forgetting things that John, the guy with the swiss cheese memory, had very vivid recollection of. But at least Sheppard had been handy enough to leave a mark with the knife, that was nice to know. The man was still breathing so he hadn't been too badly hurt that John would be sent to the brig for it.

"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten close enough to get cut," said Ronon, and from the sound of his voice, he was close enough to start cutting.

"You weren't there, your opinions aren't necessary," replied Wes.

"I'm not going to argue about it," John said, talking over them. "Considering I'm the one who can't freaking see anymore. So yeah, if that's what you're here for, rumor confirmed. I can't see. You can leave now." He raised his arm away from Ryli just enough to point back at the door across the room.

“What he’s here for,” said a new voice, startling John more than he wanted to admit. He turned toward Nova’s voice but they were still far enough away that he couldn’t see the gray shadows. “Is to make known that the misunderstanding between the two of you was not intentional, nor at all reflective of the wishes or behaviors of the country he would otherwise speak for.”

“The whole country wasn’t in the room, so I get that,” said John, trying very hard to rein in the anger. He couldn’t defend himself, or even know when an attack would be incoming, so had to rely on the other skill set. The one that somehow made people like him rather than want to punch him in the face, the one that got him the job as front-man on AR-1 in the first place. “But it wasn't a misunderstanding. If that's what the official line is, we apparently have a language translation problem.”

"It was a misunderstanding," Wes said, completely casual and annoyed about it. "When actions do not line up with words, it creates problems in communication. Misunderstandings result. And I am sorry for the trouble. It is obviously the opposite of what was intended."

"I was there, I know what happened," John shot back. "And it's not that."

"With all due respect, Colonel, your memory is not what it once was and is certainly not reliable enough to balance the weight of an alliance between countries," Wes returned, not at all challenged by the accusation. And John had no way to fight back against the lies being spun. He had forgotten Ronon for two weeks, only barely remembered him as it was, and didn't trust himself to know what he remembered of the last two years of his life in general. The Regent knew that, and even Ronon knew that.

"Fine. Then leave me out of it," John said. "When my team gets back, you deal with them. And I leave when they do."

"If you leave through your stargate, you will cause permanent harm from something that may otherwise only be temporary," Wes replied. "And given my unfortunate involvement in the current state, I won't allow the outcome. We will discuss it with Dr. McKay when he returns. In the meantime, our doctors will continue to work with you on it."

John glared at the floor he couldn't see rather than acknowledge the order from the Regent. Not far away, Ronon growled, "Enough. Get out."

"Consider my apologies, John," said the Regent, quieter, sounding closer but still a safe enough distance. "I am still the Regent. I don't make them often."

"Sure. When I hear something worth listening to, I will," Sheppard replied. So far he wasn't impressed if this was Wes' version of humble pie.

Wes didn't seem to move for a moment, still just out of reach until there was the sound of footsteps on stone. Then John felt a hand on his shoulder tug him carefully back into the sofa.

"As I said, I am still the Regent. An accident from a misunderstanding is much safer than the alternative," Wes said, very quiet and very close.

"Regent," said Nova, still far across the room and trying to jerk on the errant royal's leash. It was a warning, from their tone, and Wes patted John's shoulder and moved away. All friends here. Sheppard heard the others in the room walk to the door, heard Ronon shut it and lock them out again. He let Ryli out of her blanket and she immediately pounced down to run around somewhere. John sagged back against the couch and tried to stare at the ceiling, but he saw only shades of darkness.

Ronon returned to his chair, dropped into it heavy and loud. And things went quiet again, aside from Ryli's various noises.

"When they get back, you're out of here," said Ronon after a very long silence. "You didn't do this to yourself. He's lying."

John almost laughed. "Funny, the guy in charge of an army, telling lies about the guy with amnesia. Guess who they're gonna believe."

"Doesn't matter. There's a bandage on his neck to prove-"

"It proves somebody took a knife to him, doesn't prove he earned it," John said. He didn't want to talk about it. Or anything else. "I'll just… apologize and it goes away and we can still keep whatever we agreed to. Atlantis needs the contact, and… look, I'll probably get sent back to Earth for this anyway. We just gotta get me through the 'gate first."

Ronon didn't seem to like that news because he went silent again. John whistled to catch Ryli's attention, just for the noise, and the Coppi skittered back into the room. And crashed into John's boot. Then she was back up on the couch, curled up in John's lap, and propped her head on his chest like she did when she wanted to stare at him.

John's head hurt and he was tired and her little cold body was just weight on old bruises. And her croaky-sounding purr wasn't cute at the moment. It was hard not to notice that the last few weeks of his life would have been very different if he hadn't given Rodney a rock to hatch. The odds were in his favor that he would still be able to see, just for starters.

Maybe it wasn't fair to blame things on the weeks-old baby Coppi, but he knew where things went off the rails. Still, he scratched her nose and rested his hand between her wings, and her noises went up in volume and John started seeing faint color waves again. It kept him awake, and the pain in his head faded off a little in the otherwise quiet hall.

Some time later, he thought he heard the familiar static of the radios. Ronon's chair jerked across the stone and then the man was up and moving again.

"Finally. What the hell is taking so long?" Ronon asked. He listened to the answer, whatever it was, and then paced back to the chair again. "Well, hurry it up."

Another pause and John had lost count how many times he had wished he hadn't lost his radio. "No, he's worse. Not better. Now he can't see."

John did hear the noise from the radio that time, and it sounded like Rodney yelling. Ryli stopped making noise and went very still, hardly breathing, as she heard it too.

"Just tell him to get back here," John said. Ronon passed the order along but it didn't sound like it would be listened to.

"He said they have to check on something first," Ronon told him.

"That's great. I want him here," John replied, patience thin. If he had been his usual levels of coherent, he wouldn't have said that out loud. He stalled out for a moment before adding, "He can shut up Ryli."

"Yeah. Right," said Ronon. And he didn't believe him, either.

Major Lorne was the pilot this time, and they had four Marines along just for the added security boost. Carson had brought along gear and medicines, just on the off chance Carter couldn't get any results with the Goa'uld device, and the Jumper was more crowded than Rodney was happy with. A second ship waited at the stargate, hidden away and making sure no one interfered with their access to it.

Maybe Colonel Sheppard had given his word to abide by the Cairnythian paranoias, but Atlantis wouldn't be doing without him that long. The arrangements made Rodney feel at once better and more anxious at the same time.

They had the Jumper's sensors tuned to help find the suspected power generators and it took some of the guesswork and stress out of things. Once they knew what they were looking for, there was absolutely no missing the power source that had baffled Rodney for three weeks. Especially at night, or early morning, whichever part of the planet they were in just then. There were a few of them, tall towers all in a line, at the northernmost edge of the mountain range that hid the planet's stargate. It was still dark out, and the old tower design could hardly be seen against the distant skyline. But the electricity being generated sparked high up into the clouds.

A city of lights spread out in the valley, well away from the towers but certainly staking claim on them. And beyond the city, it looked like a wall stretched up into the mountains. It was either just being built or it was handling some serious repairs.

"This city is huge," Lorne noted, pointing out off the edge of the window. "It runs the entire length of these towers."

"They said there were territorial disputes to the North," Teyla offered from behind Rodney's seat. "As I recall our conversations, the disputes may be prompted over this."

"That would be stupid. Once the power is generated and converted to be transmitted wirelessly, anyone can access it. Why fight about it? Just take the free energy and build your own," said Rodney, scoffing.

“Historically speaking, humans don’t really like it when someone takes their stuff,” replied Lorne. And he had a point. Rodney’s thoughts went to John and he triggered the ship's communications off the dash in front of him. All he had to do was pulse the line once before it was being talked over.

"Finally. What the hell is taking so long?" Ronon asked over the connection.

“We’ve been trying,” Rodney returned automatically. “We had to test the ZedPM and do you know how long that takes? And we had to bring back help that can hopefully actually help...”

“Wait, exactly how bad off is he then?” Carson asked from the back, but Rodney waved him off.

"Well, hurry it up," said Ronon.

“What’s wrong? John was okay when we left. I thought he was getting better again!” Rodney replied.

"No, he's worse. Not better. Now he can't see," said Ronon.

“What was that?” Carson asked, at the same time as Rodney let out “He what!”

“He says get back here,” said Ronon, completely ignoring the questions.

"Well, we’re going to but we had to check on something first," said Rodney. “It’s... important. We’ll head back when we have what we need.”

“Soon would be better.”

“Fine. Just… keep us in the loop. We’re here,” Rodney said. He got the affirmative from Ronon and then closed the line. He stared anxiously out at the modified Tesla towers on the ground as the planet’s sun started a slow ascent. Things became a little more clear, beyond the Jumper’s mapping images, and a little more real. He still spun the chair around to look back at Carson.

“Why can’t he see?”

“Head trauma, Rodney. Could be from whatever damage was done initially, or some new injury. Could even be a stroke… There’s no way to know. Certainly not from here,” said Carson. It was never good when Carson made the worried-face. Rodney looked from him over to Sam behind Lorne.

“Can we go now? We have everything we’re going to get.”

Carter exchanged a glance with O’Neill in the back before she looked back to Rodney and nodded. “Of course. This is more than enough to work with.”

“If there’s trouble, we know where to put the C-4, that’s all I care about,” added O’Neill.

“I would rather avoid that if possible,” cut in Sam quickly. “There’s some impressive work there if this is really doing what it seems like. I would love to find out more if they’re willing to share technologies with us…”

Rodney set them both on ignore and went back to the console, programming the Jumper to find the Colonel and Dex, to take the guesswork out of the flight as Lorne turned the ship around.

Chapter Text

It took far too long for Rodney to show up. The team checked in at random, as they landed the Jumper, as they tried to get into the castle, and as they were derailed to deal with the Scholars and get the promised update from the doctors. It wasn't like John could go down to them, the stairs alone were an intimidating thought, and he wanted to avoid all potential altercations between Ronon and any of Wes' people. Not without the rest of the team there to supervise him and make sure there were no dust-ups that would get any of them arrested. So they had to wait.

And wait.

And Ryli settled heavier on his chest and trembled and chirped the whole time.

"Wit doesn't do that," Ronon observed at one point.

"Yeah, we kinda broke this one," John replied. Between him and Rodney not knowing what they were doing and John dragging the Coppi into a landslide, she was a little bundle of nerves and anxiety all by herself. "I guess splitting them up for two days didn't help, either."

"She'll be fine," Ronon said, grumping about it. As if to confirm, Ryli shifted slightly and huffed out copper-smelling breath through her nose, right up at John. He scrunched up his face and turned away to cough.

"Thanks, Ryles," he complained at her. She scolded him with a crackling chirp and rearranged herself again, probably so she could stare at his face like she always seemed determined to do. Even though it meant she was breathing on him with her funny-smelling breath, he slouched with his chin on his chest so she didn’t have to keep trying to climb up to watch him. She did anyway, stretching up, claws in his shirt, so she could touch her not-a-dog-nose to his jaw, and then stayed still.

“Unlocking the door so McKay doesn’t pound it down when he gets here,” Ronon announced. He stood up and left the sitting area and John heard the door being messed with again. A few minutes later Ryli popped her head up and then jumped onto the couch cushion beside him and down to the floor with a squawk. She started hissing and Ronon made a noise that sounded like he joined in, but then Ryli quieted. A moment later there was a determined scratching of claws on the door.

“What’s she doing?” John asked. Not that he cared about the condition of their hundreds of years old castles, but he didn’t want the idiot hurting herself. There was a sliding noise of a chair across the stone and then footsteps.

“Probably hears something,” Ronon replied. John tried to call Ryli back with a whistle but it didn’t accomplish anything. Then he heard the door open because apparently Ronon hated him and just opted to let the freaked out Coppi wander the halls again; John had already had that experience and wasn’t looking forward to a repeat. He complained about it under his breath as he stood up and tried to figure out how to get his dragon back.

“Oh crap!” came a yelp from the hallway beyond the doors. And it sounded a lot like Rodney being pounced on by claws and beat at by wings.

He didn’t know how or exactly why but it hit John square in the chest, relaxing his entire stressed out system so fast he could hardly breathe. He stood where he was, a step from the predictable location of the couch, not sure how to make Rodney show up any faster than the speed of the many footsteps he heard in the hall already approaching. Maybe he felt like an idiot but he'd feel worse if he tried to go somewhere and fell on his face.

"If you're out here, where's John, huh?" Rodney asked, probably at Ryli but it was just as likely aimed at Ronon, John couldn't tell.

"Rodney!" John called out, resorting to Marco-Polo again for lack of anything else. For some reason his voice wasn't cooperating and he had to try again. "McKay!"

The footsteps finally made it inside the room and a moment later were joined by scratching claws as Ryli jumped down from Rodney and scrambled toward John. She latched onto his leg and he flinched from the claws, but he was distracted still trying to see. The gray shadows that he saw for nearby movement started up in a vaguely Rodney-shape.

"Rodney?"

"John," Rodney said, from right up close. 'You look like crap."

John huffed out an unamused laugh and pulled him into a hug, clinging to his shoulders as best he could with the stupid cast in the way. Rodney returned better than he got and John tucked his face to his friend's neck to hide there.

"I can't see anything," he said, quiet. He was still having trouble talking and it was pissing him off. And maybe he couldn't see anything but his eyes still worked because they were leaking.

"Ronon said that… what- John?" Rodney sounded a little lost but he didn't let go. John was distracted keeping track as Ryli climbed from his hip to his side and started up a very happy chattering. One clawed hand kept reaching out until she caught Rodney's shirt and she had fists in both her humans' clothes.

"We missed you,” John said. He felt Rodney pull back enough to try to look at him, a very careful hand resting on his jaw to keep him from hiding again.

"Yeah, I got that," Rodney said. "We got help."

John nodded against the hold and ducked his forehead to Rodney's. He couldn't see him, but he could tell he was there if he hung on. If Ryli could hang on like a monkey on his back, he could do that to Rodney easier. No claws needed. And until they went home, he could still kiss him. So he did, and Rodney kissed him back, and at least one thing about being stuck on the stupid planet didn't suck.

Rodney eventually convinced him to sit back down and he stood in front of him, staying in physical contact by standing against John's leg, leaned in at the knee to make the proximity obvious. Ryli might have had something to do with that, as she was also perched on the same knee and John didn't feel her bony front feet digging in, so she probably still had a hold of Rodney.

"What the hell happened?" Rodney asked, sounding somewhere between shock and anger.

"What? The Regent didn't tell you when you met with him?" There was nothing but sarcasm in Ronon's rhetorical question.

"Shut up, Ronon," cut in John. Rodney snapped his fingers at someone.

"No, no shutting up," he said. "The Regent said John took Ryli on a walk and hit his head and had to be watched. That is not- something's not right."

"That's because he lied," said Ronon.

"John?" asked Teyla's voice, standing somewhere near Ronon. Of course she would have come back but John still hadn't quite been prepared for it. He hesitated, forced a cough to make sure he could make himself talk, and then tried for something that would get people off his back.

"There was a miscommunication-"

"Damn it, Sheppard," interrupted Ronon, but John ignored him.

"-And the Regent grabbed my head when he got a little too close to the knife I borrowed from Ronon. Back, uh, when I could still see."

"What the hell-" Rodney squawked more than spoke, so John figured the official story wasn't going to fly.

"Well, when the local royal says how the story goes, that's how it goes," replied John. "At least, if everyone's supposed to go home. Which I would like to do. As soon as possible."

"Colonel, I've got four Marines stationed outside those doors, so I can personally guarantee there's nobody in here that answers to any kind of royal story," came a whole new voice and John forgot how to breathe entirely. If he hadn't lost his sight, he was fairly certain his life would be seen passing before his eyes as he had just however unknowingly committed career suicide while being stuck on an alien planet. He kept facing Rodney, refused to look toward the General's location.

"The room is… bugged, sir," said John. And he was quite proud of himself for managing to find his voice in time to give O'Neill an answer. "So I'm trying to say that what the Regent told you is what happened."

"See, he left out the part about the knife," Jack replied.

"The funny thing is, I can't see, and I would rather not find out what the brig smells like," John replied, frustrated that he had to keep spelling it out. "Facts are, I pulled a knife on somebody I shouldn't have had to and I'm stuck with it now. Because four Marines won't get us very far if it gets down to it. So I just need to keep my head low until I get a clean bill of health so their Scholars will let me through the 'gate. And I'm not sure how to swing that part yet."

"Fine," said O'Neill. "Then what's the full injury list? McKay wasn't fully clear about it. Beckett's here to look you over. Make sure we know what to deal with first."

That didn't make any sense, but the General didn't sound happy, so John reluctantly made the report. "Broken arm, broken ribs, and some kinda TBI. Headaches. I can’t remember a lot, forgot Ronon for a while... I guess I'm lucky the side of my skull didn't get caved in. They said I got crushed. Had to dig me out. But I don't remember."

"John? Mind if I have a look, then?" Carson asked. Another country heard from, but at least he had been on the original guest list. "With a brain injury, we can't be too careful."

"Yeah, fine," John replied. He blindly reached to pick up Ryli and make sure Rodney had a hold of her.

"General, a word?" asked another new voice, even as Carson shuffled in, distracting John from trying to figure out what the hell the General and Colonel Carter were doing there. Ryli started up her unholy hiss and rattle as the gray shadow that was Rodney traded off for one that was presumably Carson.

"Oh my," muttered Carson.

"She doesn't know how to bite and make it hurt yet," said John. "Just makes a lot of noise."

"Oh, yes, that's better, isn't it?" replied Carson, the appropriate amount of sarcasm in the comment. Rodney took the hint and moved away with the dragon.

"The tiny one is much quieter," Carson went on. He carried on checking John over the same way the Cairnyth doctors had. Blood pressure, heart rate, check his eyes with stabby lights that John couldn't see anymore… And Beckett just rambled on the whole time. "...But I didn't have occasion to invade his space, either, I suppose."

"They're territorial," said Rodney. "It's the imprint…"

"Aye, perhaps. But that size is more daunting than the one Teyla's had with her."

"They're the same age. Sorta," said John. It was easier to think about the Coppi than literally anything else in his life just then.

"This medicine Rodney's mentioned. When was the last time you had it? And what's in it, do ye know?" Carson asked, the dragon-provided reprieve gone.

"They gave him more about two hours ago," Ronon said. He obviously still didn't trust John to answer straight. John nodded, surprised at the amount of time that had passed.

"They said it was a… Anti-inflammatory. And they have a sedative. It used to be three shots, but I don't know what they were. They just worked," John said.

"They never told us what they were. Just what they did. Mostly. The third shot was some kind of vitamin-nutrient mix they said was good for the brain injury, but I told them to stop that one because I didn't know if it was helping him or hurting. He's done better without it," said Rodney. John blinked at that, not quite understanding until then just how involved Rodney had been in his care when they had been stuck in the same room so long. It made sense, but it was weird in hindsight, especially in the context of talking to the man who was actually supposed to be making John's medical care decisions.

"Aye. I don't think I like that, either," said Carson.

"Thank you," said Rodney emphatically. "Their quack argued with me on it almost every time."

Carson still had a hold of John's wrist, like he had been trying to make sure John knew where he was, and he tapped at his arm. "Let's see the ribs then."

John had gotten far too used to following the doctors' orders because he barely grumbled about it as he tried to comply. It was routine; get it over with, get the pain relief via medicine, get people out of his face. That wasn't how it was supposed to be with Carson, but John was only vaguely sure he remembered why he had that idea in his head.

Carson, meanwhile, grumbled about bruises that had faded but were still visible, and broken bones, and the fact that John had lost weight, and in general got grumpy by the time he finished the exam.

"Told you," said Rodney, and Carson grumbled about that, too. But everyone had backed off, so John felt like he was on his own in a black void, and he didn't know how to ask for someone to ground him again. The best he had was talking going on around them, which Teyla and Ronon were doing, and Sam and Jack were doing, and then Carson was talking again but this time to someone else across the big hall.

There was a shift in the shadows and then someone sat next to him on the couch. Ryli pounced on his lap. It was Rodney, then, because he leaned a little into John's shoulder. But he had gone quiet, which wasn't exactly his natural state.

"Rodney… what's going on?" John asked, as quietly as possible as he curled around Ryli's purring cuddles.

"Well, with the ZedPM we can get back to the SGC, can't we? And there's this Goa'uld device that heals people. So… we asked to borrow it. And it... Sort of. Comes with people attached." Rodney trailed off. He happened to have sat on John's left, so he got a light backhanded thwack on the leg for the late warning.

"Yeah. Figured that out."

The people in question seemed to have come to whatever arrangements they needed to because there were more footsteps and the noise in the room dropped off.

"So here's the thing," said Colonel Carter. And she didn't sound very happy about whatever the thing was. "This device… isn't foolproof. And if it was just mending bones, I would try it now, see how far we got with it. But with the severity of the TBI, the fact that you can’t see would indicate it’s getting worse… that complicates things."

"Basically, Carter's been awake for some twenty-four hours at this point. Good odds she won't have the focus available to handle it and that could backfire," said the General.

"Backfire how, exactly?" Rodney asked.

"Best case scenario, it just doesn't work," said Sam. "But these are tricky. We don't know enough about them. And they're so similar to the ribbon devices that I don't trust it wouldn't cause harm if I tried it now. Even five hours sleep and I'm confident it would make a difference. But right now, there's too much that could go wrong."

John didn't have the first clue what device they were talking about, so he wasn't as upset by the announcement as Rodney was, sitting next to him and physically deflating enough that John could feel it. He shrugged.

"Five hours versus five months if they won't let me through the 'gate until this heals on its own," said John. "I think I can wait."

"Or we load you on the Jumper and leave now," said Ronon.

"Damn it, Ronon," John said, equal parts complaint as ineffective warning.

"The Regent said we were welcome to stay. The Scholars offered to make scans available to Dr. Beckett. I'm suggesting we take advantage of these things, rather than something more drastic. Avoid violence, in light of the overall situation," Carter said, talking over them like she expected an argument.

"It's no good here," said Ronon, very determined on his point. "The beast rots from the top down, and maybe the country isn't all like that, but they'll follow the man who is. And Atlantis will still have to deal with him. It's stupid not to cut this one loose and go home."

"Fact is, I gave my word, so until there's a way around that, Atlantis is stuck with it anyway," said John. "We got a ZPM out of the deal and it obviously works. And I can't run if I can't see."

"Look, we've got enough manpower here with us, nothing's going to come through those doors that we don't invite, alright? We'll set up a rotation, keep everyone fresh, and see what we can do in a few hours, when it's safer," said the General. It wasn't a tone John would argue with but he stayed quiet, not so sure about Ronon just then. He definitely remembered the kid better now and following orders wasn't exactly the team's strong suit, least of all Ronon's.

"You could use the sleep yourself, Ronon," said Teyla. He grumbled at her for it but didn't argue again. "And there is a bedroom that is quiet and will provide Colonel Carter with plenty of rest. If John can wait then I think the rest of us can as well."

So between the General and Teyla, that was the official word on it. Teyla set everyone up on where they could rest, how the lights worked, and John sat on the couch and felt about two inches tall because of all the trouble. He was with Ronon on it, he wanted to just leave, but he couldn't see and would just hurt himself worse trying to run for it, even with a full team as an escort. If there was a chance it could all be fixed, he had to wait.

"Up," said Rodney suddenly. He tugged on John's arm before standing up to illustrate his order.

"What?" John asked.

"You just yawned. If Sam has to sleep, you should."

"Not a good idea."

"Carson!" Rodney cheated and called for reinforcements on his agenda.

"Someone's here to watch you, it will be fine," said Carson. "And Rodney's right. Sleep may be best."

Rodney caught John's hand and pulled. “So, ha.”

"This sucks," John complained.

But he went along with it. Ryli jumped off his lap as he stood and she skittered along the floor as Rodney put John's hand on his shoulder to have him follow, like they were going into a fight but very backwards. It actually worked better than when John had tried to keep up walking alongside people. He ended up down the hallway in the bedroom that was only recently familiar and entirely different when he couldn't turn a light on to cut the dark. He was very careful about climbing into bed and almost instantly had a purring Ryli butting at his head that he had to chase off.

She started chattering very loudly when Rodney got into bed with them, flapping her wings and pouncing in excited circles that kept bumping into John. Rodney pulled her away and tucked her into his jacket or something because John heard the long zipper of the Atlantis uniform jackets and then felt no more tiny bed-jumps from the dragon. And Rodney shuffled close enough to steal a corner of the pillow and rest his forehead to John's.

The quiet in the dark wasn't normal. The fact that he had his eyes open and couldn't tell also wasn't, but when he knew Rodney was right there and silent, it was a new level. If there were rules about sharing the bed, John chose to ignore them just to make the quiet stop.

“They lied about the Omen thing,” he said. “Ronon’s been pissed off since he found out. He said they normally have that ceremony after a few years. Not right away. Like a blessing-thing."

There was a long continued quiet from Rodney, the only noise the purring from his jacket. He just left John hanging.

"McKay?"

"Then is that why you attacked the Regent?" Rodney finally asked.

"No. It's why Ronon might, though."

"So what happened?"

"I told you-"

"You told us basically nothing useful. General O'Neill looked like he was going to strangle you, so it didn't work," said Rodney. The General might as well have strangled him for all the trouble Sheppard suddenly had trying to get words out.

"Look, the guy thought we were lying from the start, there was that whole meeting. And I guess he thought I was putting him on. I had to… clear that up," he finally managed. "Can't exactly make a report like that to a General after just- yeah. I'd like to keep my job, Rodney."

"He attacked you, and now you can't see," Rodney concluded. John tried to form the argument that he had started it, mindful of the threat the Regent had made, and the listening devices the man seemed to have everywhere. It didn't actually work though and he just opened his mouth a few times to no real results before giving up.

"If they try to stop us from leaving, we take out their power grid," Rodney said, tone firm and more than loud enough for anyone listening in. "That's what we had to check on before we got back here. We figured out their power source, and one Jumper can take out the whole system in seconds. Easy. Just a word from the General and our guys are on it."

"What?"

"Our team isn't the only one that came through the 'gate. If these people are going to pull this crap, they're not interested in working with us. We aren’t leaving you here. The General and Sam weren't stepping through the wormhole without a backup plan and that's the power supply. Too long without a check in, they kill it. Any trouble getting out of here, any at all, they kill it."

It was very clear then that Rodney wasn’t even talking to John. Just to the snoops. It was still weird to believe the room would be bugged, but after everything else, John didn’t know what to think. But they had a plan to get him home, so he didn't have to think about it long.

He rolled back to stare sightless up at the ceiling rather than be seen by McKay quite so easily. Rodney accepted it without comment but a moment later started messing with his jacket again and then Ryli was climbing up to park between them and stomp down the pillow before stretching her wings out over them per her usual habit. The man otherwise hadn’t moved.

So John slid his hand across the bed to find Rodney’s and tugged him closer. Rodney shifted to drape his arm over him, carefully below his ribs but still tucked in as close as he could get with a dragon between them, and John twisted their fingers together. They were both still wearing the stupid rings. John figured he was in for a world of hurt even if the Colonel did have some magic way to fix him later. He didn’t know how to go backwards and he couldn’t even see what was right in front of him. But it was easier to rest, even to sleep, because his friend was there.

Ryli eventually woke them up with her croaking hissing noises and pouncing off toward the end of the bed. John tried to open his eyes but he still couldn’t see a damn thing and scrubbed at his face, annoyed and a different kind of exhausted. But aside from that he felt strangely better. Across the room, it sounded like the door opened and the weight of Rodney’s arm dropped away from him. He sat up before John could, and John didn’t even try.

“What’s going on?” Rodney asked.

“The General wanted to know if you were awake. Guess you didn’t hear the door,” said Ronon.

“Was asleep,” muttered Rodney. But it sounded like he was on his feet and heading for the door. Ryli moved and sat on John’s shin, guarding still with her funny slow-deflate noises. There was a screech of shoes on stone and then hemming noises from Rodney. “Stay here. I’ll go see- check what’s up and come back.”

That was annoying but John didn’t want to move anyway. He just made a kicking motion in Rodney’s general direction with the leg that wasn’t being guarded by a dragon and kept his hands over his face so he wouldn’t have to stare at darkness. Then he settled in to a few minutes of quiet as even Ryli stopped the defensive noise-making.

“You’re still awake, right?” Rodney asked later. Someone - probably Rodney - smacked at John’s shoe to shove his leg toward the side of the bed. John complied and grudgingly sat up. He was awake, he just hurt from the head down. Ryli started rattling out a growl just beside John so he figured that meant Rodney wasn’t the only one in the room. She was maybe a useful warning system after all and John scooped her up into his jacket. Buttoning her in was a little harder when he couldn’t see, though.

“Morning, Colonel,” came Sam Carter’s cheerful voice.

“Closer to afternoon, but that’s not important,” added the General. John tried to keep track of where they were rather than worry too much about the part where the two military superiors were now visiting him in a room that obviously had only one bed. He didn’t have to worry about that part until he got home; one problem at a time.

“I’ve been asleep the better part of two weeks now, sir,” John offered up instead. “Don’t feel that rested for it, but…”

“We just saw the scans, John,” said Carson, lurking somewhere closer than the other two. None of them stood close enough that he could pick out the difference between the gray reflections and the black around them. “There’s a good reason for that, my friend. Ye had a good bit of recovery to do.”

John shrugged. “It doesn’t seem to have kicked in yet.”

“For what it’s worth… There’s not much we could have done at home, either,” Carson said. “Just variations of the same. More familiar medicines at best.”

“Tried to tell Rodney that a couple of times,” John said with a careful nod.

“The thing is, the extra ZPM might have helped you out here,” said Carter. John tried to look toward her voice but still wasn’t sure he was hearing right. “With it, Rodney was able to get to us. And we were able to get here. And like I said a few hours ago, there’s a Goa’uld device that might actually help if we do it right. If you want to take the chance.”

“Colonel, I’ve been dealing with the worst headache of my life since I woke up from that landslide. Off and on, maybe, but it never really goes far. And now everything’s too dark, it’s not…” Talking to blank space was hard and John got frustrated at himself over it, tried to change tracks. “Look, I’m saying it’s not much of a chance either way. It either works or it’s this. I’m not gonna fight anybody to keep this as it is.”

There was quiet after that, everyone apparently having some kind of conversations between themselves in sign language or something because John heard himself and he heard Ryli and that was it.

“Alright then. Let’s give this a shot,” said Carter. John flinched from an unexpected gray shadow near him and suddenly in front of him, but it turned out it was Rodney, muttering about keeping Ryli out of trouble as he scooped the dragon out of John’s jacket.

“Maybe warn a guy before you go getting grabby…” John said, figuring everyone in the room should take note because he didn’t even know who was actually in the room. He was getting jumpy and the general silent sobriety in the room echoed around in his aching head and didn’t help at all.

“Sorry about that, Colonel,” said Carter, startling John again as she was just as close as Rodney had been without being actually in his space about it. “Could you maybe lay down? I’ll be right here but I promise not to get grabby.”

John went along with the awkward request and didn’t say anything as the Colonel steered him one way or another with a hand on his shoulder. It felt like his head was left on the edge of the big bed and the rest of him directed half across it. Then Sam patted him on the shoulder and took a few deep breaths, still standing close and right above John’s head now. He frowned, confused and getting anxious about what he had signed himself up for.

“It’s probably a good idea to close your eyes,” she said.

“Not much difference,” John replied.

“Oh, trust me. There’s a difference,” said Carter. So John squeezed his eyes closed just to be on the safe side.

“Okay. Here we go,” said Sam. It was a warning before there was movement over his head, just the gray shadows and the movement of air at first. Then there was something glowing at the edge of his vision and a warm, pinching feeling like when his arm fell asleep and then was reintroduced to regular circulation too fast. Except that the feeling was all over his chest and creeping into his neck and head and face. The glow built up to blindingly bright and John couldn’t shut his eyes any tighter than they already were and the all-over stinging sensation leveled up in intensity with the light. And then it went dark and John didn’t know anything at all.

Chapter Text

It wouldn't have been any kind of appropriate for Rodney to stick around and boss at Sam and Carson in regards to John's care, so when everyone else left the room, Rodney went with them. Sam and Carson stayed with John, and Rodney pointed out the problem that Ryli had with doors, so they promised to make sure the Coppi had access to her human. Rodney kept her zipped into his jacket as much as she would allow, though.

Out in the communal area of the guest hall, Rodney stalled any inevitable conversation with General O'Neill by starting in on Ronon instead.

"What'd John mean when he said they lied about the Omen?" he asked. "He said it was some kind of blessing?"

Ronon went over to a stack of books on the table in the dining area. He brought one of them back and handed it to Rodney.

"They have these. Found some about Sateda. I've been reading them all week," Ronon said. "And it describes the Omen ceremony because we had them. We did trade with them. It wasn't something that happened at the start. It took years to set up, then they host a spring festival, make a big party out of it. And that jerk started in on wanting the Omen arranged before we even had anything else set up."

Rodney looked at the book but he didn't recognize the language. Not that he didn't believe what Ronon said he found, but a single source out of an entire library could be fiction and they wouldn't know. And when he asked about it, Ronon marched over and showed him the stack on the table. So more than one source, then.

By then, they certainly had the General's attention. "What's this, now?"

"The Omen was explained to us as a traditional method of uniting trading partners, between cities and tribes," Teyla explained. She sat in one of the chairs with Wit darting up and down over the armrest between her and Ronon, occasionally looking anxiously over at Rodney. He likely wanted Ryli but Rodney didn't feel like putting her down yet. "The voluntary exchange of citizens to ensure… vested interest between each city, with their own people integrating in with the other."

"John didn't remember it after the landslide. But there was this… expectation that in order to start off, we would have to meet their tradition of intermarriage," Rodney said. It was important that the General had a solid understanding of the situation, just for John's sake, and Rodney wasn't oblivious to that. The impact on the city was an entire magnitude different, however, because what Ronon had discovered was nothing short of weeks of bad faith interactions that Atlantis couldn't be trusted to. Maybe the lies were on both sides, to a certain extent, but it was sparked off by the Regent. "It was easy enough to say we're already partnered off. And that way, their traditions could be honored in other ways. That's why we got the Coppi. But… it wasn't true anyway. Logic fail all around, just a stupid house of cards."

"After last night, on top of everything else? Sheppard was just a target. If he hadn't remembered McKay after the landslide, they would have just kept him," said Ronon.

The Satedan was angry still, arms crossed and looking for a fight, but he had finally found a friendly audience, without John in between trying to keep the peace. Teyla even looked mad, silently simmering in her chair. Rodney felt at once blindsided and validated, as well as a new level of anger. He had been angry when John told him about it, had felt slightly better making his threat against their eavesdropping hosts, but realizing how bad things had really been, right under his nose, was something else.

"That is likely why they separated us after the earthquake," Teyla pointed out. "We were able to provide little help repairing the stargate, beyond our contact with Rodney. It seems clear now. But it was less so then."

The General sat and listened, a frown on his face. "From what I'm hearing, we can't trust anything we set up with these people," he said.

Ronon was quick to nod. "That's what I said, hours ago."

"Look, I thought something was off, because of the energy readings and the RF everywhere," Rodney said, slightly annoyed at the implication that he had ignored his teammate's warning. "But I didn't have anything to prove that, and even John said I was being paranoid. We can't act on anything without proof. I think it's safe to say we have it now."

"Oh, I think that's a very safe assumption at this point," said General O'Neill. He shoved himself out of his chair and crossed the hall to check on the guards posted at the doors. Rodney looked after him, hoping he was putting the Marines on alert for trouble, because there would be trouble after everything said. It was all likely to have been overheard. And it was just one more layer to the threat Rodney had made hours earlier.

When the General returned, he called out, "Carter!" as he moved to the table and started checking his gear. Rodney winced, remembered the man's warning that he would get cranky after ten hours. They were well past that arrangement now. And none of them had been prepared for the kind of trouble Ronon's findings indicated could happen. O'Neill set to work checking his personal weapon inventory as he waited.

Sam showed up and slowed her steps as soon as she saw what O'Neill was up to. "What's going on?"

"How soon is he ready to go?" O'Neill asked. Sam frowned at him.

"He's not awake yet. Why?"

"Well, we've got a bugged room, just for starters. And from the sounds of it, Sheppard's got a fanclub that's not at all friendly. So the longer we're here, the greater the odds we aren't leaving," replied O'Neill.

"Oh. Great," said Sam. She was taking it better than Rodney. "The thing is, I don't know if waking him up is a good idea. The outward healing is done, but with the TBI…"

"He's not a vegetable. It's not like he still has to cook," said Rodney. He saw Sam bite at the corner of her lip and shrug and he went a little bug-eyed. "Right? The device doesn't veggiefy, right?"

"We don't know what it does or doesn't do, Rodney. If he passed out, it probably means he has to heal, I would guess. But we're just guessing."

Before Rodney could form a coherent argument, Ryli started twisting around in his jacket and stuck her head out over the zipper. Then she chewed on it to lower it and climbed out until Rodney had to unzip it himself to avoid claws accidentally digging through his shirt. The Coppi jumped down to the floor and moved over to Teyla's chair, stalking a very careful line between Teyla and Ronon to be able to go poke at Wit. The other dragon moved to the edge to sniff at her and the both of them started chattering at each other, sounding like a whole murder of ravens for just the two of them. Then Ryli dashed off and Wit gave chase, smaller but able to fly instead of lope and hop.

While not exactly a problem, it wasn’t helpful, either. Without her squirming he was able to focus again and tried to figure out how to get away with inserting himself back in his friend’s care when they were surrounded by people who knew very clearly he had no right to. “I think we should at least try-”

He broke off when there was a firm knock on the door to the guest hall and one of the Marines outside of it stuck their head in to talk to the ones stationed inside.

“General, parties incoming. Looks like the Regent,” came the passed along report. O’Neill sighed and nodded, waved a hand.

“Stand by. Let’s see how this goes,” the General said. Sam stopped lurking in the hall and stepped into one of the side rooms, coming back out with her weapons at hand. Rodney hurried to check that he still had his and stood up, moved awkwardly out of the way of the better shooters; after two weeks of paranoia, he was left with an absolute certainty that things were about to go very wrong. And John was still passed out and healing in the back room and Carson was clueless with him. And where the hell had Ryli gone-

Rodney looked up suddenly as the Marines opened the doors and allowed the Regent and his Aide Provost into the room, along with a small entourage and their own guards. It put the Marines at their backs, but Rodney overall wasn’t feeling any more comfortable with the situation. The normally unruffled Nova looked very concerned and maybe even angry but Rodney couldn’t tell if they were upset at the Atlantis contingent or on their behalf, because the Regent looked like his usual calm and arrogant self. But he wasn’t smiling, and he didn’t try to flirt with General O’Neill, Rodney noticed.

“General O’Neill,” the Regent said with a very formal nod in greeting. “How is Colonel Sheppard?”

“He’s being taken care of,” replied O’Neill. There was a sort of standoff happening in the guest hall but all parties were going out of their way to be polite, with the exception of Ronon who made no secret at all of his anger with their hosts, and Rodney, who felt torn in two different directions and hadn’t figured out if he should be taking up defensive positions from the back room or if he was supposed to be a competent ambassador there to keep the peace.

“General, I wanted to offer my apologies and genuine regret over the miscommunications and confusion of these last many hours,” Wes went on. “It definitely has not gone to any plan and I fear it may have caused damage.”

“Oh, just a little,” replied O’Neill. “We’re used to a certain level of… professionalism, you might say? And the fact that this place can’t get their stories straight seems to me a poor way to get things done, let alone make friends.”

The Regent nodded, crossed his arms and actually frowned, the opposite of his usual annoyed overconfidence. “If you would allow me a moment to correct the record, align these stories in an effort to maintain what can be of our arrangement with your city,” he said.

It certainly got Rodney’s attention because it almost sounded like he meant it. He hadn’t even gotten an honest answer out of John, so the prospect was hopeful, but he didn’t trust Wes.

“I’m not sure that’s the best use of our time here,” said O’Neill, squinting at the Regent with the same distrust as Rodney felt. “We’re just waiting for our man to wake up and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“General, the people of Cairnyth would like to apologize for the actions of our Regent,” said Nova, quite suddenly. Rodney blinked, not quite believing it. “Some of us were unknowingly complicit and acted against the interests of our country and our Queen and I have been asked to make that known.”

“Wait, you helped?” Rodney blurted. It caught the Regent’s attention and Wes looked at him, direct and intent.

“No, they followed orders,” he said. “My actions were my own and I did not make it known to them. I very much misread the situation and it colored my judgement. So as I said, I would like the opportunity to correct the wrongs. However inadvertently, I added to the Colonel’s injuries and damaged the trust offered my countrymen. Accordingly, if you allow it, I will abdicate my regency to my Aide Provost and submit myself to your required form of justice for the harm that resulted.”

“Are you serious?” asked Rodney, absolutely floored by Wes’ offer. It was made publicly, in front of the Aide Provost, their guards, and two others Rodney vaguely recognized as Scholars.

“Excuse me?” Nova asked, just as startled as Rodney was by the Regent’s words.

Wes nodded, though he avoided looking at Nova beside him. “I am quite serious. If it will repair any of the damage I have caused, it will be a benefit to Cairnyth. Your technology is undeniably beyond ours and I would have no ill will between us. For that alone, I do believe an alliance with Atlantis would be a boon to my people, and I know I handled it badly. I will step down to allow someone more knowledgeable to safeguard it going forward.”

“You heard me tell John about the power source,” Rodney realized, somewhat smug as the validation settled in. The Regent shrugged mildly but didn’t say anything about it. Nova looked from Wes to Rodney and then the other members of AR-1.

“If that is required,” they began, looking more tongue-tied and unsettled than Rodney had yet seen them. “It… well, it can be arranged. I- I would have to look into-”

There were footsteps behind Rodney and the skittering of claws across the tile pulled Rodney’s attention down in time to see Wit run for Ronon and fly-jump up the man’s leg. There was a croak from beside him and Rodney looked over to see John, with Ryli on his shoulder, clear-eyed and bruise-free, if a little rumpled. His stupid hair spiked out all over like he had stuck a wrench in an electrical outlet but that was hardly anything new.

“We’re not taking him home,” John said, absolutely firm on that point. Rodney stared, slack-jawed more than he cared to acknowledge, too surprised after two weeks of seeing John roughed up and dizzy to fully comprehend that he was standing tall beside him and apparently healthy. O’Neill shifted to glance back at them and Sam turned, a slow smile hitting her face.

"Nice to see it worked, Colonel," she said, quiet but certainly relieved. John nodded back.

"Thanks… it's good not to be a Major again," he replied. He still stood by Rodney, just half a step behind if anything. John waved toward Wes and Nova.

"General, Atlantis isn't some kind of prison colony. If he wants to submit to justice on this shit, he can stay where he is and learn to do his damn job instead of make the Aide Provost do it for him," John said. "That's all he's trying to do here."

Across the room, Wes squinted at John, almost seeming surprised. And Sheppard was definitely smiling back. He tapped absently at the no-longer busted side of his head.

"I remember a few things, Wes. So I get it. And you can stay here," John said. The Regent shrugged as if it was a non-issue.

"The offer was genuinely made. What your superiors choose to do with it is at their discretion," Wes replied.

“Hopefully nothing,” said John. O’Neill eyed the Colonel for the casual dismissal and then glanced back at Sam. Rodney wasn’t sure he liked their options; they could either pretend nothing happened, or walk away. Rodney wasn’t fully on board with the Regent getting away with the past few weeks of abuses, but John was very clearly not a fan of doing anything about it. Maybe Carter’s healing device had wiped his memory after all.

“Perhaps the Aide Provost should be our point of contact going forward?” suggested Teyla. She offered up the serene smile that usually had Rodney checking her hands for knives. “As I imagine, if the Regent will so readily admit to obstructing guests and harming Cairnyth’s alliances, there must be more traditional methods among your people to handle such internal embarrassments.”

Wes the embarrassing Regent no longer seemed amused by John’s refusal to pursue Atlantis justice. John motioned toward Teyla, with Ryli briefly chasing after his hand from his shoulder in confusion at the movement.

“That’s not a bad idea. We don’t want to step on traditions, and I know Wes needs to brush up on those,” he said. Rodney took advantage of the fact that John was standing behind him just enough to step back on his foot before the Colonel got too sarcastically friendly with the slowly red-faced Regent. John fisted a hand in the back of Rodney’s jacket and very carefully removed his foot but seemed otherwise unfazed.

“We will certainly confer with the Scholars,” said Nova, and they did sound slightly more relieved, but the familiar distrust was there, alongside a glare aimed at their Regent. They looked back to John, even included Rodney, and nodded. “And I am glad to see you well. I apologize on our behalf, again, for the trouble.”

John tugged on Rodney’s jacket but otherwise accepted the apology soberly, with a subdued sort of smile. Rodney blinked but figured out that he was expected to chime in.

“It could have been handled better,” he said, more than willing to provide his opinions to the Aide Provost as constructive criticism. “And I’d appreciate it if you took care of the problem. We do still have the Coppi, and Omen or not, we may need to call for assistance there. And I am absolutely fascinated by your power capabilities, and there is so much we could learn here, but I can’t trust you with the Colonel so I don’t see how we can arrange for our medical or science teams to confer when it may mean endangering them… that obviously defeats the entire purpose.”

Nova nodded. “Yes, I understand that, Dr. McKay. Something will be arranged. And I am sorry-”

“That’s fine, but I’d appreciate an apology from the Regent,” Rodney replied. If he couldn’t personally deck the man for everything he had caused, there were certainly other ways to twist the knife. Rodney stuck his chin up and waited expectantly. Wes blinked at him.

“Excuse me?” the Regent said.

“I think I was clear enough,” Rodney said. “You disrespected and endangered what is mine, and in doing so created problems for my entire team. While your people may have helped us, you said yourself there were times you ordered them to do otherwise, and that is a personal offense quite separate from the apology offered by the Aide Provost. The Colonel wasn’t the only one impacted and that is also your responsibility to correct.”

The demand seemed to have caught the Regent entirely flatfooted and he stared between Rodney and John for the longest time. Nova cleared their throat and dragged the Regent’s attention away, a not-so-subtle hint that the man needed to comply with the request.

“I’m waiting,” Rodney said, rolling a hand impatiently. John choked back a laugh that was helpfully hidden by a bark from Ryli as she jumped from his shoulder to Rodney’s.

“Fine. Apologies, Dr. McKay. I was clearly in the wrong in this situation,” Wes finally said.

“Oh, so very,” added John.

"Hey. Us, too," said Ronon. He waved between himself and Teyla. "It's our team. And you used us."

Wes did not seem inclined to cooperate that time. "I hardly think -"

"Yeah, I know, but that's not actually enough to keep me from kicking your ass when everybody in this room knows you deserve it," Ronon interrupted.

“The many guards between here and the front gates would suggest that is unwise,” replied Wes.

“Ah, I distinctly heard you use the words abdicate your regency,” offered up Rodney. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but you might want to get that house in order before you go relying on the grunts to defend it.”

Nova crossed their arms, a shade of red themselves as the embarrassment of their Regent settled in just a little bit more. Wes leveled a flat glare toward Rodney for having started the problem but ultimately looked to Ronon and Teyla.

“I apologize for the involvement of your team,” he said. Teyla acknowledged it with a gracious nod. Ronon crossed his arms, very clearly would have preferred the ass-kicking invitation, but accepted it. Rodney looked from him to the suspicious attention of General O’Neill and tempered his satisfied grin.

“Well. It would seem that’s taken care of,” said the General, not sounding entirely positive about the assertion. He still turned his attention back to Nova. “Now that this team is whole and healthy again, we’ll see ourselves back to the stargate. Leave you to sort out your internal issues with your more, shall we say, dissentious royal affairs?”

John still had hold of Rodney’s jacket and leaned into him, ready to leave and practically vibrating from it, just waiting for the official word from the General. Both the General and Sheppard left it to Teyla to negotiate with Nova for the promises to uphold the once-agreed-upon alliance with their people, and Wes seemed to be abiding by his word throughout; there were no interruptions, no arguments or dirty looks, none of the man’s usual rejoinders with his Aide Provost’s conversations.

Even Carson allowed a grudging interest in the Cairnythian medical technology, suggested that perhaps one of Rodney’s team could one day help make it more portable, and added his assurance that, should the Regent’s interactions with Atlantis be limited and controlled, they would hold to the team’s original agreements. Aside, of course, from all iterations of the Omen tradition. Teyla and Ronon didn’t seem terribly unhappy with Wit, though, so Rodney figured they could keep the Coppi substitutions.

When they left the guest hall again, escorted by Nova, Wes, and their entourage, John hung back, keeping Marines between himself and any Cairnythian representatives, and O’Neill and Carter up ahead. And for most of the walk back to the Jumper, he snuck hold of Rodney’s hand. Ryli purred loudly as it was raining outside and she flapped her wings like a wind-struck umbrella on his shoulder. John just tucked his cast under his jacket and didn't seem to mind when it got wet; it wasn't needed anymore. When they got to the ship, he tried to order Major Lorne out of the pilot’s chair the Major was half asleep in but O’Neill knocked that one down.

“Colonel, you were just a walking wreck two hours ago,” the General cut in. “I think you can wait until Beckett’s cleared you before you gamble with the rest of us. Besides, Landry’ll kill me if I let you hijack another ship.”

“Yessir,” replied John, dodging easily back out of the stolen chair. He ducked back to the crew benches rather than challenge anyone for the forward section seats and Rodney joined him. Ryli and Wit took over the netting over their heads and made the Marines jumpy, hands on their hats like they expected dragons to steal them up like monkeys would. Rodney couldn’t exactly promise that it wouldn’t happen, but he was fairly confident the hats were safe.

John slouched on the bench next to him, as reclined as he could get with his head back against the wall, and a smile tugging at his lips. He still had the cast on his arm, and maybe Carson was right when he said the guy had lost weight, but John otherwise looked like himself. Healthy and in one piece. And going home.

Chapter Text

For once in his life, John was happy to be in the infirmary. He could see again, he could move, and this time the doc was just checking to make sure it would stay that way. The doc this time was Carson, too, so that made the whole experience less weird. He was having to recite name, rank, serial number, birth date, the name of the last known American president, and his favorite mess hall food, but he was at least home. He was a little worried about being allowed to stay there, but he promised himself one problem at a time.

When Carson was positive the broken arm had healed, along with the cracked ribs, and the bruising, they cut the cast off of his arm and John was one step closer to the door. The last tests were the brain scans, which looked very different with Atlantis technology, and the good Dr. Beckett liked what he saw. He showed the results to John on a screen, circled part of the picture to highlight the area for him.

"This area here, from the scans the Scholars showed me… this was slightly inflamed and their scans showed lines here, and here, that I've no idea what they were. The Scholars said your skull didnae fracture, there were no signs of entry wounds, just that cut that was roughly here-" Carson pointed each place out on the image. "But there was clearly some harm done. May have been impact damage, there's no way ta know. And now… as ye can see yourself, it's fine."

John accepted that with a nod, and his brain didn't hurt for the movement. "So… I can still fly."

"I see no reason why not," agreed Carson. John clapped him on the shoulder in thanks and headed out into the Atlantis corridors. He wanted a shower. And his own clothes. And -

"Jeezus, Rodney!" The scientist startled him as John rounded a corner just past the med bay. Worse than the near collision was the actual collision that almost immediately followed it, with Coppi claws on his thigh climbing up to the ribs that had just been declared fracture-free, so Ryli could try to tuck into his jacket. It was still the Cairnyth style, with its button-shelf apparently designed for Coppi, so she didn't need nor ask for his help.

"She bolted and wouldn't listen," Rodney said, panting as he caught his breath. He had obviously been running, and Ryli had slipped right under John's radar because he was home and not thinking about baby dragons who might be out there looking for him. Nobody was hurt in the collision, just scared more than either of them would admit after two weeks of walking on eggshells. A run-in like that would have killed John even a few hours earlier. Now he just hung on to Rodney's arm to make sure neither of them fell over and could move on.

The problem was, he didn’t want to have to think about Rodney for a few more hours. See how long he could manage it. He knew it was going to be a problem. He had felt it every day for a week, the pull in his chest that said it was going to hurt, the thoughts in his head that didn’t want to leave his friend once the man showed up somewhere in them.

If John were smart, he would do exactly what he had planned on doing from the start. They started into their trouble on Cairnyth with the both of them pretty clear that what happened there, stayed there. When in Rome... They’d agreed on it, and that didn’t mean “bring it back to Atlantis.” Or at least he thought that had been the understanding at the start. They didn't have all that long before the ground dropped out from under him.

Things had just gotten pretty damn blurry for that week in the middle, when going home didn’t seem that likely but it hadn’t been a threat, either. When he thought he could go home and be himself and be okay. Back when John had bartered his way into a couple of rings for a goddamned reason.

A ring John was still wearing, even though he had known exactly where he was going when he stepped on the Jumper. Believing he was married again, being that way through some very foggy days, it had maybe messed with him more than he would have thought. It was going to take him a little while to figure out what he was going to do with it. And they had Ryli in the middle of it just to make things louder and literally painful if they tried to take shortcuts.

"Yeah… we're gonna have to sort her out," John said. He was distracted, stuck in his head and thinking a dozen different directions at once, with all of the things he wanted to do conflicting with the thinking that he definitely didn’t want to be doing. He shook his head to clear it. "Whether she approves or not, I'm taking a damn shower."

"Should be fine. The doors don't open for her," Rodney reported. "She's too small. I think. I hope."

"That will make life easier and also louder," John said, frowning. Ryli having decided she was getting a ride, John buttoned the coat to pen her in without the need of being clawed and continued toward his quarters. He was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure he remembered where he lived without having to ask anyone. And that was a nice feeling.

"Or we join you and she stays quiet," Rodney said, rubbing at his ear like he could already hear her screeching. John nodded absently and then realized what Rodney had actually said.

"Nope. She can wait a week," he said.

"Wait, what?" Rodney asked. John stopped walking again to face Rodney and make sure he kept his voice down. They still ended up standing close enough that Rodney held up a hand to tap and tease at the Coppi nose peeking out the side of John’s jacket-pocket. “She doesn’t exactly keep a calendar here…”

"Look, we have to figure something out, but I just got my brain back, Rodney. Everything got all scrambled up and I gotta sort it out. So I think if you can sit on that report for a week, you can wait on… this other stuff," John said, thinking that was perfectly reasonable and presenting it as such. Rodney squinted at him like he was trying to figure out if he was offended or not.

"That's nice in theory but there's a slight problem with it in practice," replied Rodney, squaring his shoulders as he seemed to decide it wasn't personal, just stupid. "Her name is Ryli and she has twenty razors attached to her feet and screams murder when you leave the room. Ask Zelenka how quiet she hasn't been for the last three hours while you were getting cleared." The man hesitated and then frowned. "You were cleared, right?"

"Yes."

"What about flying? You were worried about that…"

"Flying, too. Damage is gone. And after I take a shower, on my own, and get my own clothes, I'm gonna go say thank you to Colonel Carter and the General for making that possible. But I think you can see the problem with humoring Ryli on this right now," John said, lowering his voice significantly.

"Why? It's behind closed doors, it's not like we're calling it a party and inviting the Brass," Rodney hissed back at him. John could have choked on the suggestion alone but Ryli started her grumbled stranger-danger proximity-warning noises and he shut up instead, looking around for anyone on approach.

Like Rodney had conjured them, the Brass in question had just turned the corner behind them and were only feet away. Elizabeth smiled warmly at him and probably would have gone in for a greeting hug except for the wide-eyed dragon face staring at her from John's coat. O'Neill and Carter acknowledged them with a nod, and Sam clasped his arm briefly before dodging Ryli's snapping teeth.

"Sorry. She's just… rude," John managed, closing the jacket enough to button it closer to his shoulder and keep the Coppi fully hidden.

"Yes. We've met," Sam said, smirking.

"Teyla explained, with Wit," added Elizabeth. "Though he does seem better behaved in some things."

"That's because he's smaller," said Rodney. "And Teyla and Ronon got to work with the trainers. We just had to figure it out on our own."

"And a few other things at the same time," said John. If ever there was a time to lean in on the sympathy points, he figured it had arrived. "Like walking. Sitting up wasn't that great for a few days, but walking was a problem."

"You look back to your normal self, Colonel. I was glad to see it," said Elizabeth.

"Healing device," Rodney reported quickly. John couldn't tell if his friend was showing off or rubbing it in. "The thing I said we had to go get? Sam used it on him. Otherwise he'd still be blind."

"I wasn't blind, I just couldn't see," John argued. But he nodded, motioned toward Rodney vaguely even as he looked between the General and the Colonel. "The rest, true though. So thank you. For, uh, coming all this way for that."

"I needed to get out of the house, anyway," replied O'Neill. "A milk run to the galaxy next door seemed like fun."

Sam shook her head, smiling at the General's refusal to be normal, and made sure to look Sheppard in the eye as she said, "What he means is, you're welcome. And I think it was more than worth the effort. There were some amazing things over there, so I hope it works out."

"I did, however, suggest that Dr. Weir find another point-team for visits with that particular planet," added Jack.

"Uh, yeah," agreed John, aware of the disgusted look on his face but trying to contain it. Rodney, however, seemed concerned.

"That… that would be unfortunate. I wanted to investigate their power supply," he said. He motioned to Sam as he looked to Elizabeth. "We figured out they can transmit energy wirelessly, over basically the entire continent… the entire process would be useful… and we have Ryli..."

John winced. "Don't count on going back to any kind of warm welcome."

"Of course not, I'd have to bring you, and…" The light-bulb seemed to click on and Rodney's dismissive tone faded. "And I can't imagine that going well."

"Nuh uh. No," agreed John. “Teyla and Ronon figured out how to handle Wit. We can just… learn from them.”

“Until we can’t. And then we have to go back anyway,” said Rodney. “Which, in that case, we might as well just rip off the ol’ bandaid...”

Not amused, John squinted over at Rodney. “We’re gonna wait a while, McKay.”

Rodney sighed and crossed his arms but gave up the argument. “Fine.”

"That way, next time, you can invite us to the wedding," Carter said. She delivered it with a straight face and just a little curve of a smile and John faded, the effort at returning the humor falling far short of what he was aiming for. He remembered suddenly that somehow, despite Rodney's best efforts and natural charm, McKay considered Carter a friend. The Cairnyth disaster notwithstanding, it was possible she knew things. Then Rodney harrumphed into his crossed arms and rolled his eyes, started to say something, but the General beat him to it. O’Neill waved a hand between himself and Carter as he nodded.

"There ya go. We'll bring Daniel," said General O’Neill. Carter lost the battle and let out a surprised laugh and Elizabeth wasn’t much better. John had frozen up, confused by the guilty conscience that came from the rules of his career and the last few weeks of his life being at direct odds. He was stuck somewhere between leaving to pack and trying to find his bosses’ joke, but he was definitely solid on the fact that Daniel Jackson would be the last person Rodney McKay would ever invite to a wedding. Jack, however, wasn’t savvy to that. Which was probably a strike in John’s favor.

“What?” the General asked.

Not one to leave well enough alone, Rodney shook his head and cut his hand down in a very clear negative. “Okay, well, until that point, I was on board. Now I can promise you, there will be no invitations.”

That was almost funny and John relaxed a little. At least Rodney could play it off, even if Sheppard was a little too worried about his job to remember how to be social just then. He couldn't blame a crack on the head and busted ribs anymore, but he felt dizzy and belatedly reminded himself that breathing was still a requirement.

"No more Omens, no more weddings, sorry," he said, hoping he didn't look as sick as he maybe felt. At his gut, Ryli started fighting with his coat like she wanted out of the trap he had penned her into, but John caught her nose to give scritches rather than let her out.

"About that part," said O'Neill slowly. He waved toward John like he could point a finger at exactly which words he was going back to. "Let's leave that off the reports. For now. Not exactly… classified, so much as not important."

"What part?" Rodney asked, even as John seemed to get caught on a thought and forget how to breathe all over again.

"The whole Omen situation. It's not something anyone from our side will be subject to going forward, from what I understood of the Aide Provost's assurances, and the only reason your team got hit with it was a, let's say, ulterior motive from a rogue player. Separate problems, not our problem, let's not make it the SGC's," Jack said. He seemed to be treading very carefully. Then he pointed to the tiny snout peeking out between the buttons of John’s coat. "And do make sure to include a note that no one is allowed to bring back any more of these guys. Coppi, was it? No more dragons."

"We’re editing our reports, sir?" John managed, his relief from the clean bill of health suddenly tanked.

"I'm not suggesting anyone lie, of course. I just… it might flag a few things I'm trying to work on with DC and the Pentagon. And it’d make my life easier if Atlantis stayed off their radar on it. Is all.”

Flag a few things? John blinked.

"Well, the simple explanation is still the most accurate," Elizabeth offered, hiding her own surprise much more effectively than John felt he was managing. She looked from John to Rodney and back. "Their culture has specific trade requirements that are outside of our accepted policies. And you were granted a Coppi and a ZPM both as signs of good faith, is my understanding. We have dozens of reports that say the same or similar. Though no dragons. That's still new."

Jack waved a hand to the Director's helpful contribution. "Exactly what I was saying. Short and sweet. Don't bore anybody back home with the details."

"Right. Got it," John said, suddenly desperate to forget to write his report on the issue as soon as possible. Carson had sent him to the shrink for follow up, as usual after problems that disconnected them from home for longer than planned, and John would just make sure she knew he was forgetting things still, like report writing. Everything taken care of. Nothing to document on his end. Blame the landslide. He couldn’t make a report any shorter than non-existent.

Distracted and fully paranoid, it took a moment for John to realize the others had gone quiet and were, with the exception of Rodney, watching him. John glanced down to make sure Ryli hadn't escaped the coat and found her where he left her, just her nose sticking out, propped up on a fastened button.

"Everything okay, Sheppard?" the General asked.

"Uh, yeah…" John patted his no-longer broken arm to make sure everything was still attached.

"You're sure?" asked Elizabeth, frowning over at him. "You don't look yourself. Do we need to get Carson-"

"No, really," said John quickly. Now even Rodney was looking at him for an explanation. "I just… a lot on my mind. I was checked out for a second."

"Well, then maybe go do that," said Jack with a dismissive wave toward the hallway in general. "You and McKay and the dragon go check out. You were gone so long you're still dressing like the natives, so go. Shoo."

"McKay was going back to the… somewhere." It came out a little mumbled and sounded stupid out loud, but John hadn't actually had time to think up a lie. Maybe O'Neill wasn't in his chain of command anymore, but he was still a General, so lying wasn't the best plan. The General currently looked like he wanted to throw something, though, so either way, John was screwed.

"For the love'a pete, Sheppard, you're fine. That's what I'm saying here. Alright? Dex said you were hung up on the rules with this Omen thing. And I'm telling you. No one here - except you - cares. The IOA regs are fine. Carter and me got our own people to worry about," said Jack. He was exasperated and somehow blessedly managed to stay quiet as the five of them stood in the very public corridor.

"Wait, what did Ronon say?" Rodney asked, and John wasn't sure if that was helpful or not. He hadn't found his voice yet.

"He said he and Teyla paired off to dodge the Omen without consulting you, like a prank," said Sam. She was careful about it, but the bad news was still bad. "And he approached us about it all a few hours ago to make sure the Colonel didn't get in trouble for anything from the setup now that you were back."

"Turns out he doesn't much care for some of our rules about who can or can’t marry whom and he had opinions to share," said O'Neill, nodding. "Look, the point is. He tried to offer cover but there's nothing to cover for. It was a cover story, you were stuck on the wrong side of the ‘gate, and you handled it. So just… jackdown, Colonel. You're stressing out your team. And you."

"And that is a record, considering you've only been home a few hours," added Elizabeth, a cautious smile on her face despite the high arch of her eyebrows.

Ryli managed to sneak out between the buttons and John distractedly let her loose before she tore the coat. If he could have found a hole to go hide in, he would have, and the best he had was a Coppi to hide behind instead. The sharp claws buried themselves in the jacket's funny lapels and Ryli stared up at his chin, big eyes unblinking. The in-and-out of her breath in his face, terrible as her breath smelled, was a good reminder that he had to keep breathing, too. He gave it a shot and nodded, looked back up at the panel of supervisors still treading ominously close to the issue of his next eminent discharge order. The Brass didn’t care if it was an act, but there were potentially different opinions involved if those lines got blurred.

"Well. Great. Then… I'm gonna go figure out how to dragon-proof my place," he said, reaching for anything to do that didn't involve Rodney with the man standing right there beside him.

"That's probably a really good idea," said Carter. "We're on our way out. Back home. So good luck, Colonel."

"Thanks, Colonel," replied John.

"Don't start that up," muttered Rodney. He still gave a performative wave as he dismissed the other scientist in the group. "I'll see you on the emails. I'm almost caught up. And your math was wrong on the figures from last Thursday."

John rolled his eyes and stepped aside to make sure that he wasn't blocking Sam's handiest escape route. O'Neill acknowledged with a nod and Sheppard added another, "Thank you, sir," for good measure as the General passed by. The group was a few feet away before Rodney turned towards them, expression confused.

"Wait. Where's the ZedPM? If you're going back, Landry wanted-"

The General patted his pockets like he would find the ZPM in with the case for the Goa’uld device he had brought along.

"Huh. Knew I was forgetting something," the General said. He shrugged it off even as Rodney started motioning like he could go get the required power source. "I guess Hank can get off his ass and come get it himself. We're operational back home, until then."

Rodney blinked at him and then gradually nodded. "Okay. Sure."

"Don't stress out your team over stupid shit, gentlemen," O'Neill advised as he resumed his walk away toward the gateroom. Elizabeth followed a few steps but then turned back again.

"By the way, Teyla illustrated quite well what happens when those little things are separated from their chosen humans. I've had her assign your team two family units until that imprint wears off," Elizabeth said, pointing very directly at the dragon clinging to John’s coat. It was a final decision, too, from the look on her face about it. "These Coppi are cute, but their humans need sleep to do their jobs, and we've got a whole city to run. Figure it out so I don't have to get mean about the pet policy."

"Uh, sure," said John, because Rodney had decided to turn into a fish and stare at her with his mouth open. Not like Sheppard was much better, but he had a dragon to hide behind. "We'll go talk to Teyla."

Elizabeth nodded and turned on her heel to follow the others out. John didn't move until they were gone.

"What just happened there?" John asked. Rodney finally looked over at him, started to say something, and stopped. He shook his head.

"Your thing first. Then we'll talk to Teyla."

"My thing?" John squinted, confused as he tried to pull his head out of the fog of worry the conversation had stomped him into. Rodney caught his arm to tug on and get him walking down the hallway. Away from the bossy Brass who had entirely derailed John's mostly good mood.

"Yeah, the thing where you take a shower and Ryli screams at the door," replied Rodney. "It's gonna be great."

It jolted him back to the conversation they had been in the middle of before the General showed up.

"Right," John said. "No parties."

“Absolutely not.”

It was hard to tell if Rodney was unhappy about the no-parties decision or the overall situation but John kept the observation to himself. He wanted a whole five minutes to himself. Quiet. Non-chaotic. No uniform haunting him and no Rodney pouting at him and no Ryli clawing him. He realized suddenly that it wasn’t going to happen.

“Lizabeth just said we’re roommates,” he announced. Rodney squinted over at him.

“You sure you’re feeling okay? That was a little slow, even for you.”

“I’m fine. Just. What about-” John went quiet again. He didn’t want to think about it. He wasn’t going to. No more thinking.

“According to the General, you’re the only one who cares,” Rodney pointed out. John scowled at the hallway rather than acknowledge the flippant comment, no matter how valid it may have been. The General was commenting on a hypothetical. John was far past the theory and dealing with the practical application and having to figure out how to unapply it wasn’t working out so great so far. Rodney was still Rodney and he was still himself and risking his career for both of those things would get only one of them kicked back to Earth.

“Nobody cares about the Omen,” John finally said, as much to remind himself as Rodney.

“Nobody cares that we’re supposed to be roommates.” Rodney punctuated his words with hand movements and very careful pronunciation. “You heard Elizabeth. Teyla and Ronon are getting the same setup.”

“Teyla and Ronon aren’t the top ranking Air Force officer in the city.” John was very carefully quiet about that.

“This is the part where I repeat myself and point out that the Air Force Brigadier General said that you’re the only one who cares,” said Rodney.

“Until they do, and then I’m the one who has to leave Atlantis,” John replied. Rodney didn’t seem to like that logic much and John thought that maybe he was going to actually get a few minutes of quiet. And then Rodney opened his mouth again.

“Well, then we’ll miss you. But maybe if you’re lucky they’ll send you back on the Daedalus so you can see Caldwell again, one last time, as it were.” It was dripping with the man’s usual bitter snark and John narrowed his eyes at what felt like an incoming prank out of left field.

"What the hell, McKay," he complained back. Rodney shrugged with feigned innocence.

"Remember, your thing with Caldwell?"

It was playing dirty pool to bring up things he had said when he couldn't remember a significant part of his life so John swatted at his shoulder with a light backhand. "Don't you even-"

"Or Ronon, maybe? Did you ask him about that?"

The man was just trying to goad him, because Rodney. It was something close to normal, even if they were both just a little pissed off about everything, including each other, just then. So John smiled back.

"As a matter of fact, I did," he replied.

There was a good chance Rodney hadn’t been expecting that answer because he hesitated before nodding. "See, I told you."

"No you didn't. His answer was very different from yours," John replied. Maybe the conclusion was the same, but Ronon hadn't said a word about John being too old for anybody. And until Rodney worked around to that possibility, he could worry a little.

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" Rodney shoved at his shoulder in return. John just shrugged and didn’t say anything, which prompted a frustrated round of out-loud second-guessing and psychoanalyzing from Rodney about how John was just psyching him out and how it wouldn’t work. And John just listened, and shrugged his shoulders, and didn’t say anything.

When they got to his apartment, it was stuffy and musty and smelling like something had died in it because no one had been alive in it for three weeks, and John didn’t even want to think about the forgotten trash bins and laundry. Instead, Sheppard dropped Ryli on the messed up bed to let her explore the new space.

She sniffed around the sheets and dug her way under his pillow and climbed back out to bite his poster. John saved it with a tap on her nose and set her on the floor instead; if she tried chewing on his guitar or bodyboard, they’d both fall on her head and teach her pretty good, too. It was a lot different minding her around stuff when he actually cared if it got destroyed, he realized. John fought with the buttons on his jacket while splitting his attention and then tossed it on the bed.

Just as John started to pull up the hem of his shirt to get out of it, still absolutely determined on a shower without an audience, Rodney walked up and elbowed him in the side.

“Shower, remember?” McKay asked, and John stilled. The man had apparently missed the part where John was shedding layers to go and do exactly that, but the reminder had an awkward, sober tone that was decidedly un-Rodney. It was just enough pout that John heard it.

He stayed where he was, shirt on, brain busy. He remembered. And he remembered that he had meant it when he told Rodney he wanted to sort things out. It was one thing to be himself around his team. They knew him, probably too well. The city, though… The wrong word to the wrong person could get him reported up the chain, and the only complaints Rodney would end up making about Caldwell then would be about the fact that the Colonel got tapped to replace Sheppard after escorting him home on the Daedalus.

But John remembered the last few weeks. And he had a pretty solid recall on the last twenty four hours, too. Maybe he survived okay on his own, but his default had still been to look for McKay. Just like it always was. This trip wasn’t the first time Ronon got on his case about it, either, with an ignorable look or a taunt; it was just the first time the jerk had done anything about it. He did something because he knew Sheppard wouldn’t. Couldn’t, but wouldn’t.

But what if he could? John had already done something, Rodney had, too, and trying to undo that wasn’t going to work. It was just going to make them both miserable. That was what he had always been afraid of, why John never said anything, because he didn’t want to lose his friend. He was still trying to hang on to those stupid small corners of his life that weren’t actively trying to kill him and he generally preferred to have Rodney McKay on his side when it came to not ending up dead. And pretty much everything else, too.

A gun to his head would probably make the whole thing easier, though; instinct would take over then and take out the question marks. Worrying about his job meant worrying about getting to stay on Atlantis. Which ultimately meant worrying about getting to stay with Rodney. It all ended up back in the same place, stuck on the same person. The same asshole who was sitting on the edge of the bed a foot away from him, sulking, slouch-shouldered, watching over the dragon running around on the floor.

Across the room Ryli started chattering like she did when she was happy. It caught his attention and John soon realized she’d found a pile of clothes that had missed the duffel he used as a laundry basket and she was digging through dirty shirts, probably actually shredding them. After three weeks on the floor and unwashed they were probably a lost cause of stink and stains anyway. It seemed smarter not to risk it, so he moved to go save what he could.

She hissed at him in high offense for the crime of taking away her new toys but got over it when he picked her up. Then she was right back to her happy noises, chattered chits and clacks and coos like a bird. He was sure she really thought she was telling him something worth hearing, but John didn’t understand any of it. He never claimed to be that smart.

On his way to the bathroom he collected Rodney with a handful of the front of his shirt. And he noticed Rodney didn’t dig in his heels as he hurried to stand up and trailed along.

“What happened to the brain scramble?” he asked, in that confused way of his that somehow still sounded like a smug I told you so. John shrugged it off.

“I can figure me out later.”

Chapter Text

The John Sheppard who had disappeared from the Jumper under Carson's orders to the infirmary was a man preoccupied with the opinions of the ten other people in the ship and desperate to run away from them. It wasn't entirely unexpected, Rodney had been working around military projects since he was a teenager and he knew the social pressures in that environment. Hotheads and trigger happy bullies knew how to make their own teammates fall in line, conform to the standard or deal with the hazing. And some rules, once broken, couldn't be recovered from; even if the Brass looked the other way, the rank and file wouldn't.

And a Lieutenant Colonel who was sent to another galaxy and still couldn't escape the black mark of a narrowly dodged court martial wasn't exactly in a position to push his luck with the members of his command. Sheppard already had enough trouble keeping people alive on their far-flung outpost. The last thing anyone on Atlantis needed was the bigotry of some grunts interfering with following orders, or any kind of hazing challenges started up.

And of course there was the risk of the SGC taking some kind of issue; like John had said, they would take any excuse to install Caldwell and kick John back to light-switch duty at best and Earth at worst. If Landry was still grinding axes about that time they disobeyed an order to save a General's life, he wouldn't think twice about acting on a Code of Conduct violation. Rodney was well aware of the factors and had spent far too much time thinking about them just over the past week alone. The conversation with Teyla had only made those worries louder; John had spent years keeping to himself, it wasn’t likely that he would change that policy at home, where they were out of the box the Cairnyth fiasco had put them in.

The three hours of no-contact back in Atlantis had started off with Rodney having to chase Ryli down because she tried to follow John and got inadvertently kept back and scared by the group of humans in her way. By then, John was already gone, on autopilot following orders from the base doctor and backed up by the presence of the General and Sam. And after weeks away, the call and buzz of the city would have been just as loud of a distraction to John as the Jumper pilot's chair had been.

It likely meant that he hadn't tried to avoid them, he had just gotten sucked in. And Rodney had spent the next hour with Ryli tucked in his jacket - his Atlantis uniform, because he hadn't unpacked to find where he had shoved the gifted one from Cairnyth - and tried to calm her chirping.

He had enlisted Zelenka into helping him find materials to get a digging box built for the dragons and her pitiful hiding had ensured the man's help. He got a little less enthusiastic about it later on when she was let run around so Rodney could actually help with construction. She couldn't trigger the door of the space they had taken over but Ryli could be a menace all the same. Jumping on tables, stealing tools, parking herself in the middle of a piece of metal they were trying to weld and trying to catch sparks in her tiny clawed fists… She liked fire, and it had no apparent ability to damage the leathery scales.

But Rodney hadn't exactly let the baby idiot experiment much with that once he had figured out what she was up to. From that point on, Rodney was subject to being yelled at by the small Coppi with the loud opinions, because he wasn't letting her explore as she wanted, and he wasn't John. Rodney wondered if she had pulled the same tantrums on John to remind the Colonel that she wasn't a cat or a dog or anything like they had dealt with on Earth in their lifetimes.

He finally took her to Teyla and Ronon to see if time with Wit would distract her. Of course it did, earning Rodney a half hour of relative quiet. Until someone opened the door to the room they were in and Ryli took off. She had never done that before. Ronon and Teyla were able to call Wit back when he tried to follow her but Ryli had no interest in listening when Rodney chased after her.

The random crowd of people didn’t scare her this time. She followed her nose and Rodney knew she was looking for John. They had no idea what they were in for with the Coppi. He had expected a cat-like lizard and this… Was something sentient and still learning how to communicate that in ways he didn't know what to do with.

Rodney was far from stupid. He knew he had picked two very different battles and had to deal with them now that they were back in the city: John on the one hand and Ryli on the other. However. If John thought he was going to disappear again into the military rules and regs and ghost them to make Rodney deal on his own, he was going to find himself having very different conversations with Atlantis because Rodney would see to it. Doors could be keyed to lock John out as easily as they let him in, and that was only the beginning.

Rodney had already spent two hours planning the contingency while letting Ryli cry and tear apart a mostly empty lab. And then the bullheadedness in the hallway, with Sam right there for extra salt on the wound, had left him absolutely certain he was going to need some shade of a Plan D in place because John had made it clear that Ryli was still welcome. It was just his friend Rodney he wasn't so sure about now that they were once again surrounded by oppressive military regs.

Rodney wasn't stupid, he had half expected it, but he still felt hit with it. And he watched Ryli tear at a pile of clothes that were probably John's shirts with a little more impassive neutrality than he figured was necessarily friendly. But he figured she would stop the moment John shut himself in the bathroom, too, so she wasn't going to have a lot of time to do any damage. When John noticed and salvaged his own shirts, it saved Rodney the chore of being kind when he wasn’t feeling it; if there was a quota on that, he had met it for the month.

He hadn’t been expecting it when John grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled with intent to pry him off the bed. It felt like whiplash after the hallway. But there he was, stepping into the bathroom behind John, with the door closing them in.

Across the room, the shower turned itself on even as John set Ryli down on the floor. He still had Rodney by the shirt, but the dragon was set down to wander. She cowered from the sound of the water on the tile for a moment, her tail wrapped around her feet and her belly low as she stared at the shower area. Then she must have caught scent of the water because she pounced toward it, trying to catch the falling water like an hour earlier she had tried to catch sparks off the welder. Ryli flapped her wings in the sprays and hopped in circles and chattered in the echoing space, then randomly sat herself down and started preening, only to just as quickly start trying to play in the water again.

John still had a hold of Rodney’s shirt, like he had to leash him in before the door had slid shut. But it had dropped lower, from a fist just below the zipper at the collar to instead catch him just over his stomach. He might not have even been aware he was doing it, his attention on Ryli’s antics with a strange sort of surprised confusion on his face.

Rodney watched John, though; he had been getting yelled at by the dragon all morning and her cute-factor only went so far. It occurred to him that he had gotten lost in the time differences between two galaxies and three planets somewhere and he was running on a few hours sleep, without the boost of the healing device in between like John. That probably had something to do with why he was feeling cranky and confused about the two annoying beings who had spent the last few weeks stealing his time and attention. What was he supposed to do with that, exactly, back in Atlantis?

“Pick a direction, Colonel,” he heard himself say. Hazel eyes turned on him, at once familiar and foreign back in the gray-blue lighting of Atlantis instead of the warm yellow glow from the sconces of Cairnyth. It was somehow truer color, blunt on John’s too-pale face, and it showed the shadows from his restless sleep. The light would have been ugly on the old bruises if Sam hadn’t wiped those away with a handy bit of alien science nobody happened to understand. And John stared back at him, looking caught, hiding a random rasp like he had to consciously remember to breathe. He stepped back but tugged on the shirt to bring him along, then pulled on the hem to lift it.

“Up,” he replied. And it was a direction; Rodney huffed as he realized he should have been more specific.

“I was speaking more metaphorically than geographically.” Rodney trapped John’s hand under his, keeping his shirt and their hands at his stomach, holding his attention.

“Well, okay then. How about, when in Rome, McKay…” John let the invitation trail off, eyebrows raised as he tugged again, a finger tangling with Rodney’s. An idiom wasn't a metaphor, either, but Rodney wasn't feeling that pedantic about language just then, when all he wanted was a straight answer from Sheppard.

"Having now vacationed there, I'm a little confused about what's on offer here," Rodney replied. "You were just mad at me for the stupid report again, or was it having to lie to the General, I don’t even know-"

"I'm mad because before I didn't have to," John pointed out. “And now we’re home and I do. That’s… that’s it.”

Rodney’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t have to- What? Lie? About which part?”

“Gimme a break, here, Rodney.” John rolled his eyes and his hand relaxed under Rodney’s to slip away but wasn’t allowed to escape.

“It was a cover story, it was- you told me, John. You started it, I remind you. Definitely all on you and Rome,” said Rodney, insistent and stumbling, poking a finger at John’s middle without letting go of the man’s hand. “You said it was the lie, it was there. Maybe I fucked up when you nearly died, but you still said- So what part wasn’t? Clarify, Colonel. Status report. Use words now.”

Under the water across the room, Ryli let out an echoing screech that gave John the excuse he was looking for to look away but Rodney pulled on his hand again. John huffed, frustrated, and caught Rodney’s hand back that time. He twined their fingers and the band of the ring on Rodney’s finger knocked against the one on his. It wasn’t an accident because he squeezed them together and held on. He met Rodney’s stare with his chin angled down like he would direct their attention to the silent argument of their hands.

“You heard the General. It was a setup. Ronon never would’ve apologized for jumping the gun if I hadn’t gotten hurt. It was your cover story. I thought I just forgot my life,” John said. One shoulder lifted in a shrug. His eyes lowered, then were back a moment later. “So we’re home. I’ve got two choices here. I can either lie to them or to you.”

He made it sound like a simple choice, like Rodney just had to chime in with one or zero and make the binary decision for him. Rodney frowned over at him. “One of those gets you court martialed.”

Again with the shrug. “Told you. Things are scrambled.”

The smart answer, obviously, between those two options, was to lie to Rodney and put things back how they were before. They were friends and they weren't giving up on each other, anyway. They would just be mutually pissed off. But they would both stay on Atlantis that way.

The trouble was, Rodney had already seen the lie in action, seen the difference between the John who thought he was married and the one who followed the script. He could tell the difference, and he definitely had a preference. John did, too.

"You said it's been this way for years. You said that was the cover story," Rodney said. John seemed to hold his breath and get stuck on an answer, then he nodded.

"It has. So I lied."

There was a certain relief in the admission. It meant Rodney really had seen what he thought was there. He could accept the confession because it let him trust himself. He tugged on John's hand.

"Was I seriously the only one who didn't know? I mean, Teyla said something. You told Ronon…" The big oaf's insistence that Rodney just be himself around John suddenly made a lot more sense. But that didn't make it any less annoying.

"I told you eventually," John said. Another pass-it-off shrug as he tried to dodge. Rodney narrowed his eyes.

"Now. You're telling me now," he clarified. John's attention had dropped to their hands, where his thumb was tracing over Rodney's, down the inside of his wrist and back. He nodded, absent and distracted.

"I have to pick a direction now," he said. Like he was still figuring it out. Like he was waiting on Rodney to figure it out for him. It was kind of a two-person call, anyway. Lying to the world outside of their team could bring consequences they were both stuck with. And Rodney was, generally, a shitty liar. John was clearly better at it, but the man was far from perfect. It would require discretion. They could learn.

The hand not hanging on to John's reached out to pull on John's shirt, lifted the hem by a handful at his ribs. "Up, then."

John was quick to drop his hand, but he seemed to forget the actual logistics of stripping out of a shirt because he leaned in and kissed him. And the shirt got as far as hanging around his neck before he lifted both hands to Rodney's face and stepped in closer. Rodney held him in with hands at ribs that weren't cracked and purple anymore, smoothed down to his hips and back up. Even the claw marks from Ryli using him as a climbing post had been healed.

When he pulled back, John was smiling, despite the line across his forehead that said he was worried.

"I'm taking a shower. You do you, just… in here," he said. Rodney mentally tripped over the offer. He looked past John to the shower space where Ryli was still jumping after the water.

"You do realize she has claws, right? And climbs people with them?"

“We survived the baths.” John shrugged and moved away to dump his shirt on the bench by the wall. He glanced up as he stepped out of his pants before getting distracted by the fact that they were Cairnythian rather than BDUs, and he looked between the bench and the floor before dumping the pants and shirt both on the floor instead. Definitely where Ryli could get into them.

Also, oh-by-the-way, No boxers, and Rodney looked away at first. It wasn't a guaranteed that John was inviting him, after all, as laundry wasn't exactly a service provided in the royal suite. So apparently that meant all commando, all the time, while Rodney had been stuck washing his own things to make sure they didn't disappear, too. It wasn't something he had asked after and now he knew… and with a lifetime of locker rooms and special ops in the background, John didn't seem bashful about it.

It left Rodney with every proof that the man who had been a wobbly-kneed mess of cuts and bruises and weird swollen spots because he had been crushed by trees and mud and rocks was perfectly fine and healthy again. After two weeks of being careful with every touch, it was a relief, and yet very weird. The scared mantra in his head that reminded him hourly that Dr. Rodney McKay was not a caretaker, not knowledgeable in injury healing or protection, that he didn't know what he was doing… that voice turned off rather quickly as he watched the man stumble to take off socks, not because he moved his head wrong.

"Oh boy," Rodney muttered under his breath.

He looked past John to Ryli. Maybe John had lost the proof, but Rodney was still scratched up from the little claws digging through the weave of his pants and shirts to get purchase to climb where she wanted to be, even a few tiny stab wounds in his shoulders and neck from her trying to stay balanced as she cuddled or as they walked. She wasn't a parrot, damn it, but she didn't understand that she was just slightly too big to sit on shoulders without the accidentally hard anchor points. And being naked around her seemed like the absolutely worst idea John had ever stupidly walked into.

Rodney stripped out of his jacket and shirt, which went safely on the bench, but then he went to pull the dragon out from under the water. As predicted, she didn't agree with his ideas at all and kicked her back feet and flapped her wings and made her displeasure loudly known. He saw John cringe out of a now-familiar habit and hold his hands over his ears, but when there was no spike in a non-existent headache from her noise, the man relaxed and looked ridiculously pleased.

The bath in John's quarters was smaller than the one in Rodney's, and about a third the size of what they had in Cairnyth. But it had tall, smooth, durable sides and a rounded, sloped floor that might not be so easy for Ryli to jump out of. And it wasn’t like she could fly out. So in she went, her noises turning to confused chatter, and Rodney turned the water on there for her. She started prancing in the shallow pool and her noises turned to purring.

Wasting water wasn’t exactly a concern when the city got its water from an ocean and highly advanced desalination system, and Rodney valued his personal parts a little too much to chance it otherwise. He leaned on the tub edge to watch Ryli, to make sure the critter didn’t do anything stupid in water. Off behind him, he heard John laugh, the one that came along with a head shake.

“That’ll last a minute and a half,” John said.

“That’s a minute and a half I don’t get shredded,” Rodney replied. And with his personal parts as safeguarded as he could make them, Rodney stood up and turned again to his earlier project. The one that meant knowingly walking away from the smart thing to do and encouraging a certain degree of voluntary stupidity from a MENSA-qualified Air Force Lt. Colonel.

The sight that greeted him when he turned around was somehow better than the one he had determinedly turned his back on. It was easier to maintain focus when he was worried about his personal safety, but that disappeared quickly when he saw John in the shower, face up to the rainshower fall from the hidden plumbing. The water was hot enough for the tease of steam within the glass walls of the partially enclosed space. And there was certainly enough room for two.

Not long later, Rodney stood under falling water with John, neither of them complaining about being rained on for the first time in weeks.

The three-bedroom family residential units were a little further away from the central command centers, closer to where the Athosians who had chosen to stay in the city had set up. Further from anything military, interestingly enough. Like everything else in the towered city, the levels were composed in a circular, pod-like layout, three units to their own little pod and set aside from the main halls. So now Ryli could be across-the-hall neighbors with Wit and there didn't have to be any closed doors between her and either of her humans.

John remembered telling himself when Ryli first showed up in that cave that they wouldn't be keeping her, remembered trying to figure out how to get her to run off and chase bugs on that first walk into the mountain city, and remembered losing the argument with himself when Rodney started arguing to keep her. Weeks later, the Coppi had completely rearranged their lives. That had been the opposite of the plan. They had no idea what they were doing, at any level, but they were rolling with it. Because Rodney and Ronon had wanted dragons. And John and Teyla agreed with them on it. Also, because dragons.

John hadn't had a pet since high school, nor a roommate since McMurdo. And he had never once thought about kissing that roommate, or any others, but McKay decided not to believe him on that score because his ex-wife at one point counted as a roommate. The taunt had Sheppard side-eying the wisdom of voluntarily moving in with Rodney when neither of them were in danger of dying; it was a solid reminder they might kill each other someday. All the same, they set up one whole room of the new quarters for Ryli, bringing in her digging box and rigging up things for her to climb on.

And John dragged Johnny Cash and a box of his other collected stuff to the new room that would be his and Rodney's. Because that wasn't weird to think about at all. They were breaking so many rules, and Elizabeth was the one who set it up to happen, all because the Coppi were technically good-will ambassadors from another planet. They had to be taken care of. And in Ryli's case, that meant she had to be able to climb her preferred humans without knocking on a door first to find them. But John was sure they would be able to teach her how to knock, since so far Atlantis wasn't recognizing her to open them for her.

"Maybe rig up a kinda tracker that the sensors will respond to," John suggested. He had climbed up on the big bed to figure out how to hang his poster back up and Ryli stared at him from her narrow perch on the wall-mounted headboard. Like maybe the magnetic hooks he was trying to position were really bugs and like she expected him to drop it to her if she helped. Accordingly, John had to inch the poster up higher along the wall to keep it out of her reach. "We can get with Teyla and Ronon on it and see if they've got any ideas on a collar or something these guys will leave alone."

"Maybe. Probably. Why is… does he have to-" Rodney had turned around from where he was hanging his degrees - "Yes, I have mine framed. At home. On Earth. In a box," John had told him when Rodney wanted to know if his doctorates had to share wall space by the door. - and finally caught on to why John was standing on the bed across the room. And it almost sounded like he didn't approve. But John ignored it because there was a reason he hadn't asked permission before setting it up.

"Maybe the door-thing could be keyed to just certain corridors so we don't end up with dragons in the armory," John said to the wall as the second hook locked into place and the poster hung from the string along the top bar-frame.

"Not like they can do anything in there, anyway," Rodney said, dismissive. John jumped down to the floor, Ryli following by pouncing down onto the bed and then to the floor and then out the open bedroom door. He leaned slightly to the side to see out into the common room, making sure she went back to doing things he wasn't going to have to clean up. There was an audible crash from the vicinity of Ryli's room - the one they thought they had dragon-proofed - and Rodney looked out, too.

"You really wanna take that bet?" John asked.

"I'll look into it," Rodney said. John nodded and clapped hands on his shoulders, bussed a kiss to the back of his neck as he edged by. It was a fun distraction, as Rodney wasn't expecting him to then set one of the carefully squared-up frames just an inch askew as he passed by the collection that now lined the door.

"Really? Is that going to be a thing?" Rodney called after him when he noticed.

"Maybe?" John replied, quite proud of himself for the prank.

John was so accustomed to the poster over his bed, in his own apartment, where things never changed, that it took him two hours to catch on when Rodney retaliated by flipping the Johnny Cash hanging to face the wall.

That night, he caught Rodney scowling at the Man in Black when he climbed into the new bed. That wasn't allowed.

"I know for a fact you like Johnny Cash," Sheppard said. Rodney shrugged, nodded, very carefully pushed blankets out of the way so he didn't accidentally toss Ryli somewhere with them. She bounced over the wall he had shoved at her to investigate the clean sheets below.

"Sure, but I don't like people watching me when I sleep," Rodney replied.

That was definitely fair. Especially after the last few weeks. John considered it for a moment before shoving his blankets aside - another mountain for Ryli to jump over - and stood up to pull the poster-hanging off the wall. It came down easily and he jumped down off the foot of the bed, taking the poster out to the other room. Ryli followed him to the bedside but no further; he had just broken the bedtime pattern in a brand new place and she was likely confused. It only took a minute to hang the poster up behind what passed for the couch, along the wall by Ryli's room, and then he was back. Ryli followed him to where he sat down to swing back under the covers, just to put herself in the way and complicate the project. Rodney still sat on the other side, staring at him with his mouth slightly dropped open.

"What?" John asked. "Now you just gotta worry about me and Ryles. That's it. Do-able. Right?"

"You just moved Johnny Cash," Rodney pointed out. Like somehow John had missed it.

"Yeah…"

"I figured that wasn't-" Rodney seemed to get stuck and frowned and jumped tracks again. "Okay, but mine stay where they are."

"Yeah… there's no reason to move them. I'm not worried about a few signatures staring at me. But if you don't want to be watched over, you don't gotta be," John replied.

"You've argued with me before about moving yourself three feet to the left and yet you just moved Johnny Cash."

"Do you want me to put him back?"

"No, I'm just… confused." Rodney scrunched his forehead and his nose and squinted at John. “Is this a thing now? Did Carter miss a spot or something? You’re weird when you’re agreeable.”

"I'm still gonna argue with you, just not about… that. Don't worry, McKay. Nothing changed. It's just… different," John said, dropping back on his pillow. He didn't know what was so weird about not being a jerk about a poster, but he definitely understood the weird that was the last few days leading them to having to share wall space. It wasn't a bad weird, but it was not their usual.

Ryli started to circle around between the two pillows but then stopped, sat, and stared expectantly at Rodney. She couldn't smother them with her wings until he assumed the position. She had Rules and they did not change despite the change in location. Rodney frowned at their little overlord before turning off the lamp on what had so automatically become his side. Leftovers from a four-poster bed on another planet probably, but it worked.

There was a squawk from Ryli then and John looked over to see Rodney relocating her from between the two of them to the middle of his pillow instead. Then he was burrowing under the blankets to wrap his arm over John and tug him close as he stole the corner of the pillow Ryli had already stomped down. Rodney tended to sleep on his stomach anyway, so now his shoulder pinned John's, and his hand snuck along John's shirt to hang on.

Not to be deterred, Ryli walked over him to lay down on John, at Rodney's shoulder, and splayed her wings out like usual, though at least this time it wasn't over their faces. John shifted enough to catch Rodney's hand and wove their fingers together where they rested at his hip. He was home and comfortable and could fall asleep because he was tired, rather than pass out from unknown medicines. He was also warm, dog-piled, and being snored on by a three-week-old baby dragon, so his life remained very thoroughly weird.

Chapter Text

The trouble with Ryli was that she liked to explore. She would scout around near Rodney or John and then they would look up and she would be gone. Which was mostly only a problem because if she ran into someone who wasn't expecting a dragon, there was usually screaming, which would set Ryli off, more screaming would ensue, and they were all lucky if she ran away again without biting or scratching anyone.

It wasn't a concern that she might get lost, because she unerringly always found one or the other of her humans, depending usually on how long it had been since she had seen them last. She was particularly nervous about John, and he obviously didn't work in the same areas that Rodney did. She stayed with Rodney for an hour or so and then would sneak out with an opened door and hunt down John, and Rodney would figure it out after a few minutes, and just follow the various noises of alarm through the corridors.

It had been weeks and she was still cranky at strangers, while Wit had at least begun to warm to Elizabeth and a few others. Ryli tolerated Teyla and Ronon because they came with Wit, but there would be a lot of noise if either of them ever had to pick her up to remove her from trouble. They had taken the dragons on two missions and they both behaved beautifully when they were away from home, but Atlantis, apparently, was their territory and therefore they were immune to rules. Because they both knew the rules, and they would stare right at their humans while they broke them.

The other oddity was that Ryli had started making vocalizations that sounded like speech. She liked "saying" something that sounded like No but came out more like Moo. And she heard the word often enough that it made sense she could repeat it, assuming Coppi were capable of the base-level mimicry of a bird. Wit had grown and could fly well but he was still small, so they were assuming he hadn't yet developed enough to mimic. Unfortunately, they were still weeks away from any planned contact with Cairnyth, so the Coppi and their new tricks remained a learning experience. And Ryli in particular remained stubborn.

Rodney walked into John's office to find Ryli seated politely in the chair across his desk. She sat tall and proud with her chest puffed out, despite her mouth open and panting from the exertion of her run, and her tail curled primly over her front feet, twitching slightly. Rodney paused at what was clearly her chair to give her scritches above her crown, but when he tried to pick her up to allow himself to sit, she Moo’d at him and the panting became bared teeth. She didn’t break skin when she bit her people, but she still bit, and he opted to avoid the entire experience by taking the other chair instead.

John looked up at him with his best "Don't blame me," raised eyebrow and Rodney narrowed his eyes back. There was an entire argument to be had in the simple exchange because by now they had actually had the conversation many times. It went something like:

"Don't blame me. You wanted to keep her first."

"Right. She likes you better. This was not my idea."

"You hatched her."

"Yeah, because you gave me a rock."

Or some similar variations along those lines, and it always stopped when Rodney reminded John of the gift at the heart of it.

It was a pointless argument because Rodney wouldn't have left Ryli to a butcher, barring pain on the rest of his team, anyway. But any way the argument happened, he always won, because John had gifted him the Coppi egg no less than twice. First as an egg he thought was a pretty blue and black rock, and the second time in the form of a couple of rings that had been set with thick bands of the Coppi shells. Whether it was an accident or not, John didn't learn well enough from the first and repeated the mistake, so it was all undeniably his fault. He even wore the ring every day to prove it.

And while Rodney liked to win arguments like that, he was also ridiculously fond of the gifts at the heart of it, so he had started chickening out of engaging in the taunt to save his own pride.

"I can try taking her first, but she's just going to do the same thing," John offered.

"Maybe then I could get more than an hour of work done at a time," Rodney replied. John raised his eyebrows innocently and hummed without comment, apparently very engrossed in his paperwork. Adding his signature to personnel reports was of course much more interesting than positive reinforcement of Ryli's escape habits, so he was pretending to ignore her. Given her patience in the chair, Rodney didn't think it worked. She purred quietly in her raspy little rattle and sat exactly where she wanted to, between both of her humans and the door.

"Since you're out of the cave, though, I've got requests here for security to the lower levels from your team-" John said, hinting that he wanted further explanation than the requests provided. He probably didn't believe their stated objective and wanted the more detailed translation, but that didn't mean he was guaranteed to get it; Rodney swore Zelenka had started forging his authorization because he only remembered about sixty percent of the security escort requests since they got back. That might have had something to do with Ryli's habits, but he wasn't about to suggest that out loud. He sighed and leaned forward, hand out impatiently for the requests to look over, and John started digging through the stack of paper on the corner.

Before he found them, though, Ryli changed from purring to one of her intruder-alert noises and turned to bare her teeth at the door. John looked up, requests sidelined, and Rodney shifted to be ready to collect the dragon in case she got it in her head to pounce on someone. They both relaxed when they saw it was Teyla at the door. There was no Wit wrapped around her shoulders, however, so Ryli wanted nothing to do with her and pounced up onto John's desk instead. He grimaced at her but let her get away with it.

"Colonel," Teyla greeted, her tone and smile light. She nodded to Rodney in turn, but seemed to be on a mission. "Elizabeth has gone through this morning's databurst and released the emails from Stargate Command. I wanted to be sure you saw them."

Rodney frowned at that; since when was Teyla serving as John's secretary? He looked over to see John unbury his tablet and wake it up. Ryli crept closer to him then, likely with intent to play with the tablet herself, and Rodney finally stood up and retrieved her from the stacks of paper and pens and folders and regulations binders that cluttered John's space. She hissed once but then all fifteen pounds of her went ragdoll-loose in his hands and she folded her wings in tight. It was a relief because she had gotten bigger by half and the wrestling matches to keep her out of trouble had gotten more difficult. Rodney much preferred to pull her in with the promise of a cuddle.

Meanwhile, Teyla moved up to the desk as John skimmed his inbox. Rodney glanced between the two, waiting for an explanation while Teyla seemed to be waiting for a reaction. She got whatever she was after because her smile got impossibly brighter as John's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. He leaned forward in his chair, propping the tablet up in both hands on the desk as he read over whatever he had found.

"Is this confirmed?" he asked. He looked up at Teyla. "Did Elizabeth check on this or anything? It's real?"

Teyla nodded. "She received an email from General O'Neill directly on this, in addition to the announcement sent to you and others of rank. He felt she needed to be aware, and his email said something about smoothing ruffled feathers?"

Rodney tilted his head as he watched the back and forth, quite confused. "How do you know what her emails said but Sheppard didn't get a copy?"

Teyla shrugged a shoulder and inclined her head just-so, her polite, all-knowing dismissal of Rodney's logic. "I was just discussing it with her. I felt it important that the policy shift be brought to the Colonel's attention as soon as possible."

"Policy shift?" Rodney's attention went back to John. The man nodded.

"Uh. They, uh. Changed the regs," John said. He sounded dazed, and his volume had dropped by half compared to their conversation a moment earlier. He rolled a hand as his eyes scanned the screen. "Yadda-blah-something, military and Homeworld departments should enlist those most eligible in light of a larger common threat… in line with the International Community Standards as adopted by the IOA and the legal right guaranteed by many US state laws…blah…"

He was distracted reading fine print that made no sense in fast-forward chunks. Rodney stood, impatient and concerned, and moved to go read over his shoulder. John looked up at him before he'd gotten more than a step.

"Remember Doranda 2.0 a few weeks back?" he asked. Rodney stopped, blinked down at him across the desk, but John didn't give him a chance to reply. He pointed at the screen. "O'Neill and the Pentagon did all the stuff you told me Lizabeth had done. Uniform Code of Conduct has been revised and please-see-attached."

Rodney stared, surprised. John let the tablet fall and kicked back in his chair, scrubbed at his face with both hands. He was still processing, but Rodney wasn't sure he believed it wasn't a prank. He traded Ryli for the tablet and helped himself to John's email, reading the words for himself in proper order as John got pounced on by a not-exactly-tiny dragon.

It didn't seem to be a prank. All the legalese seemed to point to all the necessary protections in place up the chain. With an act of some god and Congress and a team of lawyers large enough to crew the Daedalus, DADT disappeared and the archaic regs were revised.

Rodney opened the included revised documents, code lists, regulation inserts, and judicial recs and reviews to make sure the attachments really were everything their labels promised, even scanned down to find the pieces that were suddenly relevant to his life. He had spent more time than he would ever admit to familiarizing himself with all the rules John was breaking since they returned from Cairnyth, so the altered pieces and missing sections stood out on just a scroll through the file. He cleared his throat and set the tablet down in front of John again. The Colonel stared back at him.

"I mean, it's… it could still blow up in our faces," John managed. "But I really read that. You didn't make it up this time. That's…"

"That's real," Rodney said, getting to his point. His fingers caught unerringly on the ring on his hand. It still moved around multiple times a day, between fingers or trading hands, depending on what he was doing or even where his mood was, sometimes. It gave him something to fidget with. John wasn't as bad about his, though. He wore it the same every day: left hand, ring finger. The notable exception had been while Caldwell was around for a few days, and the ring had stayed hidden from Ryli in their room the whole time.

"That still good?" John asked, his gaze taking in the ring as Rodney toyed with the band and he nodded toward it. Rodney nodded.

"I mean… this says we could… really… if you wanted. On paper..." John went on in fragments, like he was afraid to make the offer, like it would rock a perfectly stable boat. And McKay was smart enough to have him figured out. He held his hand up just enough, spinning the ring around his finger with his thumb.

"Still good. Just this is fine," he said. They could talk about the whole formal routine of paperwork and marriage licenses and officially documenting their preferred life partner status later, when it mattered to anyone other than themselves. Their team knew well enough and none of it changed their lives. They were good. The Brass' decisions to get their collective noses out of their soldiers' and agents' bedrooms and lives didn't have to change anything. It just meant that someday, maybe, it could. And in the meantime, Lt. Colonel Sheppard's roommate situation wasn't a lurking threat to his rank and posting.

John scratched at Ryli's chin and then urged her back to the desk, out of his lap.

"I need coffee," he announced, getting to his feet.

"Oh, good. I'll take something stronger," said Rodney. Ryli chimed in by jumping up to John's shoulder to hitch a ride. She was so much bigger than she had started out but her human chariots had gotten used to the random sneak attacks as she grew, so John just ducked one shoulder to accommodate her before standing more or less normally.

"You realize this doesn't just hit us, right?" Rodney asked as he waited for John to come around the desk. He knew the rumors because scientists never shut up, regardless of their department, but he wasn't sure how much Sheppard actually paid attention to his troops. But John nodded again.

"Yeah, I got that," he replied. Still, he paused and snuck a kiss as he passed by. Teyla stepped aside, quietly beaming. She caught his hand in an encouraging squeeze as he walked out the door she was guardian of just then. Rodney was next in line, but since he didn't have a dragon on his shoulder, Teyla fell into step next to him.

She was very clearly happy on their behalf, while he was too naturally suspicious to relax about it enough to be happy. The thing with letting John lie to the chain of command was that Rodney was one of the keepers of those lies, and it was not good for his nerves. And he could already hear Ronon in his head crowing about the abolishment of the backwards rules he so loudly hated and hoped the man didn't make a big deal about it in the mess. It would take a little while to sink in and Rodney wanted their teammates to give them the chance. But when Teyla bumped his shoulder, he still managed to smile back and caught her hand to copy her gesture.

Up ahead, there was a yelp from a hurried comms tech and a screeching from Ryli and Wit both. Wit had run up the stairs, yards ahead of Ronon down in front of the 'gate, as the comms tech was hurrying along in the upper level and passing by John. Except the kid was startled by the Coppi running toward Teyla and he jumped, shoulder-checking Sheppard. John’s ankle turned and he missed the edge, slipping right off the top steps, sending the tech’s papers flying as his arms flailed out.

Rodney was still five feet away when he saw John start to fall. All the same, he and Teyla rushed forward, even as Ronon ran for the stairs. But they hadn't expected Ryli to be the one to catch John's weight and provide the counter balance to let him stop himself from falling. The Coppi had all four feet latched hard in John's jacket and the beating wings held her up, pulled him back, and seemed to be letting the animal actually fly in place as John got his feet back under him.

He was over-corrected and on his way to landing on his ass, but Rodney caught John's bicep and pulled him in for added balance as Ryli's wing flapping just at his head started getting difficult instead of helpful. John had boots on the stairs and seemed solid so they both turned their attention to trying to calm Ryli down. She ended up tucked partially inside the jacket she had just tried to tear the shoulder out of, panting and stressed, and making noises like she was mad at someone for being a klutz. She was too big to completely hide like she had been a few weeks earlier. John stroked her back and looked up as Ronon caught up to them.

It all happened in a matter of seconds but it had been enough time for Rodney's entire memory of a miserable two weeks in Cairnyth to replay in his head instantaneously. He looked over at John and saw he had lost all color from his face. The Colonel kept glancing down to count the number of stairs he had almost crashed along, head first if it hadn't been for Ryli's help.

"Don't do that." Rodney's words were accompanied by a slight shake. John nodded.

"Whatever. Did you see that?" He wasn't a stupid man, just one who was intentionally ignoring Rodney's concern on some kind of personal mission to piss him off. "She was flying!"

"That wasn't flying," said Ronon, standing a step below them and looking at John like he had hit his head again after all. "It was just… not falling."

"Look, sometimes that's all you're gonna get to keep you in the air, and she used it, so it counts," replied John, stubborn.

Rodney had been too worried about John to pay attention to whether Ryli was flying or merely falling with style, so he just nodded and tried to usher them away and off the big steps. Whether Ryli could fly or not, she was still a baby and they were left with her entire, long, lifetime to uncover all they could about obnoxious dragons and flying… providing that John Sheppard could stop challenging gravity long enough to someday find out, anyway.

The end!