An SGA/BtVS crossover
Rating: swear words, slash warning, no actual deeds done
Time line: SGA: post season 1, after reestablished contact with Earth, BtVS: after series finale.
Disclaimer: All the premises except the plot aren't mine and I use them without permission and with no intention of profit except personal gratification.Ties Of Blood And Water
long time no see. And considering the way we parted last time, I guess that’s all to the good. And to make sure you keep reading instead of just tossing this, I’ll say it: I fucked up, I’m sorry.
I can practically see you wrinkling those brows of yours and ask yourself ‚what’s her angle this time?’
Nothing bro’, not this time. I’m just genuinely trying to set some things right for once in my life. There’s been some stuff lately which made me think: a friend of mine got snuffed. He was family, the only family I left myself, after I lit out of base housing in Bumble fuck, wherever, leaving behind Dad’s smoking ruin of a car. Man, I can still remember the old fucker screaming he was gonna kill me. You were already soldier boy by then, but let me tell you he meant it.
I was so angry all the time: at him for being the repressed asshole he was, for wanting all of us to be fucking perfect all the time, at Mom for never standing up to his boot camp mentality and of course at you, for being so damn perfect yourself. Acing school, being champion of the track team, joining ROTC like the good little clone you were.
I despised you, you and your orderly crew cut and crispy uniform, the spitting image of Daddy dearest’s fondest hopes and dreams while I was just the second best, just a girl and not a very good one at that.
But that’s not what I wanted to tell you, besides you already know all that from the last time we saw each other. Me showing up drunk and high at your base, us having that flaming row, … jeez, writing it down like this, I wonder why I should bother writing at all. I’d be hard put to forgive me. Except I hope you’re bigger than that and even if not, I have to say it anyways: sorry, I am truly sorry.
Being so angry at everyone besides myself I went and tried to destroy everything. I didn’t even think to look for my own part in this spectacular fuck up. I didn’t think, period.
These days family has been the only thing that has kept me going. I won’t go into details, I’m not even sure if you read this far but these days some people have been big enough to give me another shot even after I screwed them over pretty good too. It made me realize what a royal screwup I’ve been with my real family. You’re it, bro. Even if you never answer, please know, I love you, man and that I’d like to prove it to you.
John carefully laid the letter down on the table as if it was going to explode any second. The time stamp on it was from a year and three months ago and it had apparently followed him from Antarctica to the SGC where it had just missed him before he and the rest of the Atlantis team went through the Stargate and out of contact. Reestablished contact with the SGC meant regular mail among other things. John had never expected anything and was thus very surprised to find this battered letter sitting on his desk the morning after the Daedalus arrived.
He shook his head trying to clear long ago memories and blindly grabbed a file, any file from the large pile and started writing a report.
„Did you know that I was married once?“ Rodney sounded loopy and his voice was thready and too high. John pressed down harder. „It was only for a year but that still counts, right?“
„Sure, Rodney.“ So much blood, he couldn’t keep it all in. „What was her name?“ Something, anything to keep McKay distracted.
„Karin, she was Swiss, you know? We met when I spent six weeks at CERN once. She had the nicest breasts.“
John couldn’t even spare a tired smile at McKay’s dreamy statement. Where the hell was Carson with the damn med team?
„Of course she hated me in the end. They all do sooner or later.“
Rodney sounded so sad and wistful that John had to say something. „I don’t.“
Rodney blinked owlishly, trying to focus his glassy eyes on John. „We’re not married. We don’t even fuck.“
Hearing the profanity from Rodney’s lips was wrong on so many levels, he was usually so eloquent even in his insults, never resorting to brute swear words.
John felt cold sweat breaking out along his spine. He held Rodney’s gaze, the scientist’s kept sliding out of focus, his pupils blown. John suddenly felt very lightheaded. „I..“
From the corner of Rodney’s mouth a thin trickle of blood made its way down. John felt his own heart racing even more as if it was trying to make up for Rodney’s faltering one.
Then cool and insistent hands laid themselves over his own, prying them away. A soothing voice sounded right next to his ear, Carson and the med team were here finally. John let himself get pushed aside and simply sat down right there on the lab floor, watching Carson do his thing. Keeping his team mate alive, rescuing McKay, saving Rodney, saving John.
When they finally wheeled Rodney out after apparently stabilizing him, John stayed put, wrung out, feeling hollow and brittle.
When he finally did get up to his feet, the hand he used to push himself up from the floor left a bloody hand print. John barely made it to the wastebasket before throwing up. After having retched up what felt like last weeks meal, he rested his cold and sweaty brow against the cool not-metal of Atlantis’ walls.
it wasn’t because I didn’t want to write but your letter only got to me recently. I have been sort of out of the country.
Admittedly for two weeks after I got your letter I still didn’t know whether I wanted to write at all. But now, well, here we are.
I am glad that you are well and that you cleaned up your act. Friends are sometimes better family than the real people...
I sound like the condescending asshole you remember. Let me try again. I had your letter all put away already, not ever intending to write.
But sometimes certain events just poke you in the butt and you see things in a new light. You wrote much the same, but it didn’t really penetrate until I also got my wake up call.
And I am sorry too. I never stood up for you to Dad, even when I knew he had it in for you.
I have been so proud of you at times. That time you and your team won that hockey game? I couldn’t shut up about you even though my buddies kept teasing me about it.
Remember when you made that collage with all the trash from your way to school in arts class and called it ‚Environmental Concerns By The Wayside’ and Mum asked you why you could never ever make anything nice? I liked it. I liked the irony. But I never said anything and for that and all the other times when I found it easier to just keep quiet, when you never did, instead standing up for what you thought was right. I admired you for that. Still do.
Dad died thinking, as you do, that I was his perfect son. I’m not.
I’m in love with a man, a colleague of mine but mostly a friend. He’s sarcastic, never shuts up and has got an ego the size of a planet and he doesn’t have a clue. He’s also brilliant, soft at heart and has the most incredible, crooked smile.
Somehow I hope that you get what I’m trying to say: it’s not the appearance of things that counts. Sometimes things get in the way of what’s important. Don’t let them. I won’t anymore.
I love you too, Faithy. Always.