![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trobadora posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mensa_auTitle: Steady Now, We're in This Thing Together
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teh_bug
Character: Mensa!John
Setting: MENSA-verse
Rating: PG
Word count: ~4,400
Summary: While Rod was away, the mice had their own share of problems.
Warnings: Incredibly flimsy science (no, seriously, incredibly flimsy science) and a high concentration of snarky Zelenka.
Notes: Thanks to the wonderfuldragonfan48 and trobadora for last minute betas.
Recipient:wneleh
Rod leaves through the portal in a flash of light and John kinda wants to hit something. Hard. He kinda wants to punch a wall until his knuckles are bleeding, like he did in high school when all he had to worry about was his mother sighing in disappointment after a call from the school and his father asking, "Why couldn't you be more like David?"
Instead, he quietly packs up the equipment, flies back down to Atlantis, and doesn't destroy anything along the way.
When he gets back down to the lab, Zelenka meets him at the door and tells him that the particle flow has decreased, and John snaps back over Zelenka's rolling eyes, that of course they're decreasing, did you really think that Rod would fail at something so simple as saving the universe? He, at least, has a half a brain, unlike some—
Elizabeth puts a hand on his shoulder to cut him off and smiles softly. "I'm sorry, John."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he grouses. "It's not like Rod and I were close or anything. I mean, at least he went off and did something useful with himself for once."
She squeezes his shoulder sympathetically and smiles again. "I understand. Whenever you get a moment, I'll be in my office if you need to talk." She gives his shoulder a final pat and walks off.
Around the room, his "colleagues" are all giving him looks in varying degrees of sympathy.
It's really kinda disturbing.
"Don't you people have work to do?" John snaps at them, "Something to do with preventing ourselves from being shredded by the giant tear in the sky? Or were you counting on Rod to do everything for you?"
Like a light switch, their faces change back into their normal modes of disgruntlement and pretending to do work. It's comforting, in a useless sort of way.
He sits down next to Zelenka, the least mentally deficient of them, and looks at the data. The tear in the universe, or as Rod had put it in one of his few, proud, politically incorrect moments brought on by too many nights up and too little caffeine, "run in the pantyhose of space" hasn't decreased in size since the particle flow decreased. It's not entirely surprising—just because you stopped adding baking soda, doesn't mean the earlier batch is finished reacting with the vinegar—but the rate at which it's increasing should have slowed down at least somewhat.....
"Rod's not dead," He tells Zelenka. "He's gone. I'm not sure how I feel about that..."
"Mmmm," Zelenka says thoughtfully. "Naked and ascended."
It takes John a full minute to process the inanity of that statement. Considering some of the other things that have come out of Zelenka's mouth (impossible theories, disprovable religious beliefs, outdated political views, etc) John's almost impressed. "What?"
"Naked and ascended," Zelenka repeats as if that explains anything. "Or maybe descended? Descended." He nods firmly. "Naked and descended, that's how I predict Rod will return."
Really, John thinks, there was a reason his knuckles were always bloody in high school. He'd forgotten how good it felt to punch someone.
"He's grieving," says Elizabeth, lying through her diplomatic teeth, and looking less sympathetic this time around. "It's his own way of dealing with losing Rod."
Which is ridiculous, John thinks, and tells her so, because everyone knows the stupid don't grieve.
"Neither do the soulless," Zelenka grumbles, holding an ice pack to his jaw.
"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth cuts in before John can return with a devastating comment about how people who stare that long at pigeon porn—breeding tips, my foot—have no right to judge. "It's been a long day for all of us. We've lost someone very dear to all of us and to this expedition. I think we'll feel better if we all get a good night's sleep." She looks pointedly at both of them. "Is that clear?"
Zelenka smiles the saccharine-sweet smile of the suck-up. "Yes ma'am, Dr. Weir."
"Yes ma'am," John says and doesn't punch Zelenka in the face.
At 3:47 am, John has an epiphany.
The greatest thing about Zelenka being a simple-minded half-wit is his inability to retain multiple thoughts in his head at any point in time (much like a goldfish), thus rendering him incapable of maintaining a grudge for a period longer than twenty-four hours. (Rod had told John one time that Zelenka just didn't see the point in staying mad when it was more fun to stop being mad and wind up the other person, but seriously, Zelenka?) Which is excellent in times like these, when the only real memory John has of yesterday's fight is a set of slightly bruised knuckles and he has so many new plans that he requires a spare brain to hold them in, a.k.a. Zelenka.
Zelenka openly stares when John shows up at the mess for breakfast the next morning. "The sun hasn't reached its peak yet," he informs John.
John tells himself that Zelenka's goldfish brain needs time to adjust to big changes and takes a breath. "I know."
"It's not even 7:30 yet."
Goldfish brain, John reminds himself and stabs at his scrambled almost-eggs. "I know."
Zelenka leans across the table and peers intensely at John. "Are you feeling well?"
Screw the goldfish brain. "Did you want something, Zelenka?" John snaps.
The worst thing about Zelenka being a simple-minded half-wit is that sometimes he doesn't even realize he's being insulted. (Rod had disagreed about this as well, but since sometimes he didn't even realize he was being insulted, he couldn't be trusted.)
Zelenka grins disarmingly. "I'm just wondering why you are up with the rest of the world instead of imitating a vampire."
"We need to hold a memorial for Rod." John states and maintains eye contact, even as Zelenka's eyes narrow suspiciously. "I need you to make a speech."
Impressively fast, Zelenka's grin zips off his face. "No."
"I know that words are hard for you sometimes, especially since English isn't your first language, but it doesn't have to be a long speech and—"
"No," Zelenka cuts him off. "I refuse to write a memorial speech in honor of someone who's not even dead."
"Fine, he's missing." John retorts. "But he's never coming back. It's the same thing."
Zelenka stares at him and very slowly, very dramatically, he checks his watch. "It's been seven hours since we last heard from him."
"It was a unidirectional transport beam! There's no way he could come back from that! Even your minuscule half-brain should be able to comprehend that much."
"My God," Zelenka deadpans. "Your faith in Rod is astounding. Never, ever, support me in my times of need."
"What is your problem?!" John curls his hands into tight fists so he doesn't do anything stupid with them. "Just because Rod was ten times smarter than you'll ever be, doesn't mean you have the right to disrespect him now that he's gone and can't fight back!"
"But he's not gone!" Zelenka snaps. "He's not even dead!"
"He's in another universe!"
"He's Rod McKay!"
John stares. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?!"
Zelenka pauses, takes a deep breath, and explains in the voice usually reserved for missions to Planet Never-Never Land. "Do you remember the incident with Rod and the Iratus bug?"
"Yeah, he got bitten by the bug and everyone thought he was gonna die." John wrinkles his nose. "I hate bugs."
"Very good," Zelenka congratulates condescendingly. "And do you remember whenever he got trapped in the cave and everyone was sure he'd been crushed to death?"
"The time on PSX-456 or PXS-654?"
"There was a difference?" Zelenka waves his hand distractedly. "Never mind. The Genii hostage situation of '06? Do you remember that?"
"If you're trying to suck up to me by reciting Rod's greatest moments, this is a pretty crappy attempt."
Zelenka rolls his eyes. "Everyone assured us, multiple times, loudly and at great lengths, that Rod was most certainly going to die or was already dead and yet, yet! Rod is not dead." He points dramatically at John. "The man is like a cockroach. He will not die! I refuse to believe that he is dead unless I strangle him to death with my own two hands. And maybe not even then! I—"
"Is there a problem?" Ronon walks over to their table and looms. He sets his tray down next to John and somehow, manages to remain looming even sitting.
Zelenka forces a sickly smile and quietly quails. "Not at all."
"He was talking bad about Rod," John reports and happily takes a bite of pancake. "He's refusing to pay his respects."
"Huh," Ronon eyes Zelenka in a less than pleasant fashion and grunts. "I thought you said he was only borderline stupid."
Even goldfish can sometimes sense imminent death. Zelenka's sickly smile wavers and he mumbles something about being needed in the labs and flees like a fleeing fleer that flees.
„Rod's gone," John tells Ronon.
"I know," Ronon rumbles reassuringly.
"Zelenka's being a small-minded dink about it."
"Want me to throw him off the pier?"
John considers it. Zelenka's on the pudgy side; he would float. "Would you mind?"
"You should not take out your frustrations with Rod's disappearance and the current situation on your colleagues by convincing Ronon to inflict bodily harm on them," says Teyla and thwaps him hard with her stick. "It is unproductive and inhibits others from doing their jobs as well."
Apparently, Ronon had bumped into Teyla on the way to toss Zelenka off the pier.
"Ow," says John and it's not a whine, it's a simplistic expression of the physical pain he's feeling. "He deserves it." That's not a whine either.
Teyla thwaps him again. "Perhaps," she agrees. "But it was not your place to decide that. You should have reported to the appropriate authority figure and allowed them to handle the matter."
"The 'appropriate authority figure' is trapped in an alternate universe," he snaps out before he can stop himself.
Thwap. "Then you should have discussed the matter with Dr. Weir or Colonel Bates." Teyla says unsympathetically.
John doesn't sulk, and rubs his side. "Rod is gone."
"I know," says Teyla, and doesn't hit him. "But there is still a tear in the sky."
John hesitates, but he knows there's a rebuttal to this, there's always a counter argument, there always is—-
An alarm screeches, and over the intercom, some one shouts "Dr. Sheppard to Lab 1!"
"What did you do?" snarls John when he gets in the lab.
"What did I do?" protests Zelenka. "Only attempt to diagnose the problem, divert the catastrophe, postpone imminent death..."
John ignores him in favor of finding out—"You broke the scanners!"
"I did not!"
"Fine, one of your minions broke the scanners, whatever. By default you broke the scanners!"
"Sheppard!" Zelenka snaps, voice going low and hard in the closest approximation of deadly serious he can manage. "The scanners are not broken! Look again."
John hesitates and Zelenka points. "Now, please!"
John sighs a put-upon sigh, looks at the scanners again, and...no. "This can't be right. There's no way these readings can be correct." He looks at Zelenka for confirmation. "Right?"
"We checked the results three times," says Zelenka. "They're right."
"But Rod fixed it..." That's why he went through the portal. But it didn't work. It was all in vain. Vanities, vanities, it's all vanities...
John slams his fist on the table and swears.
"See," Zelenka chimes in from behind him. "I told you it wasn't my fault."
John slams his fist down harder.
"What's happening is that we're still getting more particles," Zelenka reports at the emergency staff meeting with Elizabeth and Colonel Bates. "And the tear is increasing in the speed at which it is...increasing."
"I don't understand," says Dr. Weir. "I thought you said the other universe had stopped creating more particles. I thought the particles were supposed to disappear."
"Yes, well, they were," admits Zelenka. "At least in theory, they were supposed to."
John rolls his eyes, "Oh, like it comes as a shock to anyone that Zelenka is periodically wrong."
Zelenka sighs and mutters melodramatically, "You blow up a half a solar system one time..."
"Five-eighths," John corrects. "You know it's the simple errors in math that—"
"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth's using the tone that means she's stopped believing that word. "The tear?"
"Right, right," Zelenka clears his throat. "Well, we think—"
"He thinks."
Zelenka rolls his eyes. They're going to stick if he keeps doing that. "I think that the other universe did stop whatever they were doing to create the particles, but that they didn't reverse the process."
Elizabeth blinks. "I'm sorry?"
"It's like a turning a faucet," John jumps in, before Zelenka can confuse Elizabeth any more. "You turn the faucet one way to start the water flowing, but if you stop turning it, the water doesn't stop flowing; it just stops increasing in speed. You have to turn the faucet the other way to get it to turn off."
"Okay," says Bates. "So what's to stop us from turning off the faucet ourselves?"
John starts. He'd forgotten Bates was even there. Bates' tendency to sit back and listen at these meetings periodically turns him invisible. "Well, you see ..."
"We don't know which one they turned on." Shrugs Zelenka. "Or which way to turn it, even if we did. Plus, we still have to drain the tub."
"Drain the tub?" asks Elizabeth.
"Drain the tub?" echoes John incredulously.
Zelenka shrugs. "I was going with the metaphor."
John shakes his head. "You're not allowed use metaphors ever again." He turns back to Elizabeth before she can scold them. "What Zelenka's trying to say, is that whenever the other universe stopped doing...whatever, they not only didn't stop the particles from being created, but they also blocked off any pathways for the particles to leave our universe, essentially leaving us trapped with a steadily increasing flood of death and destruction."
"Like a tub of water..." Zelenka mutters, disgruntled, behind him.
John ignores him. "On top of that, the particles that are being created are reacting with the ones that are already here, causing everything to go much faster that we'd previously anticipated."
"How much faster?" asks Elizabeth. Her voice is quiet and sharp, and she's eyeing Bates the way she does when she knows they're going to have to make a big decision.
"We're not going to last the week. We might not even last the next three days, if we don't do something soon."
Elizabeth nods. "What did you have in mind?"
Zelenka looks at him and hesitates. "We could always...send them back."
"Send them back?" John can see the wheels turning in Elizabeth's head as she mentally reviews everything they've told her about the particles over the last few days. He can see when it clicks. "You want to flood another universe with the same particles that you've just told me are destroying ours?"
Zelenka shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Wuss. "To be fair, they are the ones that started it in the first place..."
"And we don't know that they're not doing it intentionally," John points out. "For all we know they could be well aware of the damage they're causing and they just don't care. Why else wouldn't they have responded to the messages we sent through?"
Elizabeth stares at them disbelievingly. "And you think that justifies it? Even if they were doing it intentionally, what about all the innocent people that weren't responsible for this? Do they deserve to die just because they're in the same universe?"
"Elizabeth," Zelenka says, softly. "What about all the innocent people in our universe?"
Elizabeth exchanges a look with Bates. He doesn't look against the plan, but that could just be stupid military stoicism. "How long will it take to set up a way to send the particles back?"
"About six hours," John replies. "Give or take thirty minutes."
"That would give the other universe time," says Bates. Excellent, John thinks, one down.
"Do it," Elizabeth says after a heavy pause. "But send a message to the other universe first so that they know what we're doing. Maybe it'll shock them into fixing the problem themselves."
"Maybe," John echoes, because he's supposed to and that's what Elizabeth wants to hear, but he doubts it.
They work on the program in Lab 1 mostly because the computer systems they need to pull off this stunt are all here and very unportable. And, heart-stoppingly true enough, by the time they're ready to activate the program the tear will have grown to be in close enough proximity for them to interact with, without having to fly up in a jumper to meet it, which says volumes about the situation they're in, so John's not thinking about that. Instead, he's thinking about cheerier things, like:
"What if whatever we're doing kills Rod?" He doesn't really want an answer and is pretty much convinced that Rod is dead already—if he weren't, he would've fixed this for good by now—but he thinks better out loud and it's not like anyone could actually hear—
Zelenka sighs pitifully and put-upon. "Then when he returns to Atlantis, he will have super powers to accompany his descension and nudity."
Except freakish imp-like Czechs with ears bigger than their heads.
"What's your obsession with seeing Rod naked?" Ronon rumbles from where he's leaning against the wall. John suspects that Ronon was sent by Teyla to keep him from killing Zelenka until after they've saved the day.
"Seriously," John chimes in. "Do you have a crush on him or something?"
Zelenka opens his mouth to snap, sees Ronon eyeing him, and reconsiders. "No, but from previous experience I have learned that Rod is most likely to come back in the least convient way for me possible. I have no desire to see Rod naked," Zelenka blanches a little even as he says it, "the thought actually makes me fairly ill. Therefore, because the universe and Rod have conspired against me, Rod will come back naked." He nods decisively.
Ronon raises an eyebrow. "And the descended part?"
Zelenka ruffles up like a bird, mildly indignant, "How else would he reach godhood before me? How dare he? It wouldn't be fair, therefore according to the laws of universe it will happen."
John thinks about reminding him that the Ancients weren't really gods and if ascending was all it took to become a god, what does that make Daniel Jackson, but Ronon's looking a little too thoughtful for his own good, and John's not sure if he still (ever did?) worships the Ancients so he keeps his mouth shut.
Five hours and forty-five minutes later, when John and Zelenka are putting the final touches on the program and Ronon has gotten bored of watching John not kill Zelenka and left, Bates trundles in to check up on them.
"How is it coming, Doctors?" Bates asks with all the confidence that comes from having no idea what's going on.
"It'll be done. Stop fretting." John attempts to wave Bates away, but all it does is send him to go bother Zelenka.
"So what are you doing?" Bates asks, peering over Zelenka's shoulder.
"Solving the problem." John mutters.
"Creating the materials needed for a large burst of energy," Zelenka explains. "and then orchestrating the precise timing and placement of this burst of energy in order to envelop all of the particles."
"So the energy burst will what? Round up the particles and send them back through the portal?"
Zelenka nods. "Essentially, yes."
John stares. "Uh, essentially, no. That's like saying air is oxygen."
"It's not?" asks Bates.
"My metaphors are bad?" grumbles Zelenka.
John rolls his eyes. "My point is that the process is way more complicated that Zelenka's making it sound. If it were really that simple, we'd have been done by now. And violated several laws of the universe. As it is we're dealing with highly volatile particles and a high reaction rate and—"
As if in self-defense, Bates' eyes glaze over and he looks over at Zelenka.
"We're pushing the particles back where they came from with a burst of energy," Zelenka assures him.
Bates nods, in a fairly decent impersonation of knowing what he's talking about. "Right."
John shakes his head. Morons.
The scanners beep.
"It's time," says Zelenka.
"Could you have possibly come up with anything more cliche?" John grumbles and takes a deep breath. "Are you ready?"
Zelenka licks his lips. "Yes."
John looks over at Bates. "Colonel?"
Bates nods. "Do it, Sheppard."
Here goes nothing, John thinks, and presses the button. "Three...two...one," he watches the scanners flash when the energy pulses and the particles are sent through. He's feeling jittery and in motion, the same feeling he gets in the heat of a crisis, in the three seconds right before everything either goes really well or they all die. Take that, he thinks. You can't destroy my universe.
The scanners flash a different color and Zelenka goes, "Interesting." John checks his screen and...
"What happened?" asks Bates, his hand automatically twitching towards his weapon.
John blinks at his screen, but the numbers don't change. "The other universe isn't as stupid as we thought they were. I guess they figured out how to read our messages. Either that or they stopped torturing Rod long enough for him to fix things."
"And by that you mean?"
"They're also sending a pulse of energy," Zelenka pipes up. Bates gives him a blank look and, like a trained seal, come to think of it, he elaborates. "Basically, the combined pulses of energy will react with the particles and cause them to, for all intents and purposes, disappear."
"It's a little bit more complicated than that," John snorts.
"It's really not," Zelenka counters.
"It really is."
"Docs!" Bates interrupts, looking a little he's channeling Elizabeth. "The tear? What do we do about the other universe?"
John exchanges a look with Zelenka. "That's easy. We wait."
"For?"
"The particles to stop reacting, obviously." John shrugs. "The pulse of energy they're sending through isn't going to hurt us any. All we have to do is keep our side of the portal open until the reaction is complete."
"Why?" asks Bates. He sees Zelenka open his mouth to respond, realizes he's talking to a scientist and backtracks. "Never mind, you guys know what you're doing."
John snorts. "I'm so glad we have your confidence. I don't know how we got this far without you boosting our fragile self-esteem. I-"
"John," Zelenka cuts him off and shoves a laptop at him. "Take a look at this."
"What did you do?" John snaps automatically and looks at the screen. "Huh."
"Dr. Sheppard?" asks Bates.
John shakes his head and rechecks the data. "Something else is coming through the portal."
"Something else?" repeats Bates. "Like what?"
"Like anything," says Zelenka. "It's not a particle; it's not a data transmission. It's something...solid, tangible. Something organic." He blinks thoughtfully. "It could be Rod coming back."
John glares at him. "Yeah, or it could be a flesh-eating Hydra from Planet Terror. We won't know until it gets here."
"What happens if you guys shut down the portal before the object comes in?"
"It would still come through," Zelenka takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. "Instead of functioning like a door that opens both ways, it more like two one-way streets. Just because we blocked off our street, cars can still come from the other universe."
"Hey! What did I tell you about using metaphors?"
Bates ignores them both. "When was the last time you updated Dr. Weir?"
"Uh..." John hedges, "She really doesn't need to know every little detail..."
"That's what I thought." Bates taps on his ear piece. "Dr. Weir..."
"I don't know why you're so upset," Zelenka pipes up cheerily. "It could be Rod."
"It could be an evil alien," John rebuts. "It's probably retaliation for attempting to send the particles back."
"We can always kill it when it gets here," Zelenka smiles. "That's what the military's here for."
On cue, Bates barks, "Major Cadman!" They exchange some sort of secret military command with a series of grunts, code words and eyebrow twitches that has the end result of her summoning Marines from secret compartments and organizing them in geometric patterns.
John taps at his keyboard. "Can you get them to move any faster? The object's going to be here in...three...two...one."
There's a flash of light and the crack of guns being lifted, aimed and cocked, and John curls close to his desk, ready to duck and—
"Huh," says Rod looking exactly the same as the last time John saw him two days ago, black leather jacket and all. "And I wasn't even wearing red slippers."
There's a chorus of ohmyGods in at least three different languages, and you'd think there would be some professionals amidst the bag of rag-tags John works with, but apparently there aren't because there's a mass of people swarming Rod with hugs and tears and laughter and stating the obvious and inane like, "You're back!" and "You're not dead!"
John refuses to debase himself like that and really, if Rod wanted to know how he felt about morons who went off and nearly got themselves killed, he could come over here himself.
Zelenka catches his eye, smirks and leans back in his chair, arms behind his head. "I told you he would be back," he says, casual and relaxed like he's at the beach. But his face is three shades paler than normal, John notes, and he hasn't quite gotten his hands to stop shaking.
"He's not naked," John points out. "And any moron with two eyes and half a brain can tell he didn't descend from on high."
Radek waves his hand dismissively. "Minor details."
Rod saunters over and slaps a hand on John's back. "Hey guys, did I miss anything?"
~Fin~
[Poll #1176423]
Author:
teh_bugCharacter: Mensa!John
Setting: MENSA-verse
Rating: PG
Word count: ~4,400
Summary: While Rod was away, the mice had their own share of problems.
Warnings: Incredibly flimsy science (no, seriously, incredibly flimsy science) and a high concentration of snarky Zelenka.
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful
dragonfan48 and trobadora for last minute betas.Recipient:
wnelehRod leaves through the portal in a flash of light and John kinda wants to hit something. Hard. He kinda wants to punch a wall until his knuckles are bleeding, like he did in high school when all he had to worry about was his mother sighing in disappointment after a call from the school and his father asking, "Why couldn't you be more like David?"
Instead, he quietly packs up the equipment, flies back down to Atlantis, and doesn't destroy anything along the way.
When he gets back down to the lab, Zelenka meets him at the door and tells him that the particle flow has decreased, and John snaps back over Zelenka's rolling eyes, that of course they're decreasing, did you really think that Rod would fail at something so simple as saving the universe? He, at least, has a half a brain, unlike some—
Elizabeth puts a hand on his shoulder to cut him off and smiles softly. "I'm sorry, John."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he grouses. "It's not like Rod and I were close or anything. I mean, at least he went off and did something useful with himself for once."
She squeezes his shoulder sympathetically and smiles again. "I understand. Whenever you get a moment, I'll be in my office if you need to talk." She gives his shoulder a final pat and walks off.
Around the room, his "colleagues" are all giving him looks in varying degrees of sympathy.
It's really kinda disturbing.
"Don't you people have work to do?" John snaps at them, "Something to do with preventing ourselves from being shredded by the giant tear in the sky? Or were you counting on Rod to do everything for you?"
Like a light switch, their faces change back into their normal modes of disgruntlement and pretending to do work. It's comforting, in a useless sort of way.
He sits down next to Zelenka, the least mentally deficient of them, and looks at the data. The tear in the universe, or as Rod had put it in one of his few, proud, politically incorrect moments brought on by too many nights up and too little caffeine, "run in the pantyhose of space" hasn't decreased in size since the particle flow decreased. It's not entirely surprising—just because you stopped adding baking soda, doesn't mean the earlier batch is finished reacting with the vinegar—but the rate at which it's increasing should have slowed down at least somewhat.....
"Rod's not dead," He tells Zelenka. "He's gone. I'm not sure how I feel about that..."
"Mmmm," Zelenka says thoughtfully. "Naked and ascended."
It takes John a full minute to process the inanity of that statement. Considering some of the other things that have come out of Zelenka's mouth (impossible theories, disprovable religious beliefs, outdated political views, etc) John's almost impressed. "What?"
"Naked and ascended," Zelenka repeats as if that explains anything. "Or maybe descended? Descended." He nods firmly. "Naked and descended, that's how I predict Rod will return."
Really, John thinks, there was a reason his knuckles were always bloody in high school. He'd forgotten how good it felt to punch someone.
"He's grieving," says Elizabeth, lying through her diplomatic teeth, and looking less sympathetic this time around. "It's his own way of dealing with losing Rod."
Which is ridiculous, John thinks, and tells her so, because everyone knows the stupid don't grieve.
"Neither do the soulless," Zelenka grumbles, holding an ice pack to his jaw.
"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth cuts in before John can return with a devastating comment about how people who stare that long at pigeon porn—breeding tips, my foot—have no right to judge. "It's been a long day for all of us. We've lost someone very dear to all of us and to this expedition. I think we'll feel better if we all get a good night's sleep." She looks pointedly at both of them. "Is that clear?"
Zelenka smiles the saccharine-sweet smile of the suck-up. "Yes ma'am, Dr. Weir."
"Yes ma'am," John says and doesn't punch Zelenka in the face.
At 3:47 am, John has an epiphany.
The greatest thing about Zelenka being a simple-minded half-wit is his inability to retain multiple thoughts in his head at any point in time (much like a goldfish), thus rendering him incapable of maintaining a grudge for a period longer than twenty-four hours. (Rod had told John one time that Zelenka just didn't see the point in staying mad when it was more fun to stop being mad and wind up the other person, but seriously, Zelenka?) Which is excellent in times like these, when the only real memory John has of yesterday's fight is a set of slightly bruised knuckles and he has so many new plans that he requires a spare brain to hold them in, a.k.a. Zelenka.
Zelenka openly stares when John shows up at the mess for breakfast the next morning. "The sun hasn't reached its peak yet," he informs John.
John tells himself that Zelenka's goldfish brain needs time to adjust to big changes and takes a breath. "I know."
"It's not even 7:30 yet."
Goldfish brain, John reminds himself and stabs at his scrambled almost-eggs. "I know."
Zelenka leans across the table and peers intensely at John. "Are you feeling well?"
Screw the goldfish brain. "Did you want something, Zelenka?" John snaps.
The worst thing about Zelenka being a simple-minded half-wit is that sometimes he doesn't even realize he's being insulted. (Rod had disagreed about this as well, but since sometimes he didn't even realize he was being insulted, he couldn't be trusted.)
Zelenka grins disarmingly. "I'm just wondering why you are up with the rest of the world instead of imitating a vampire."
"We need to hold a memorial for Rod." John states and maintains eye contact, even as Zelenka's eyes narrow suspiciously. "I need you to make a speech."
Impressively fast, Zelenka's grin zips off his face. "No."
"I know that words are hard for you sometimes, especially since English isn't your first language, but it doesn't have to be a long speech and—"
"No," Zelenka cuts him off. "I refuse to write a memorial speech in honor of someone who's not even dead."
"Fine, he's missing." John retorts. "But he's never coming back. It's the same thing."
Zelenka stares at him and very slowly, very dramatically, he checks his watch. "It's been seven hours since we last heard from him."
"It was a unidirectional transport beam! There's no way he could come back from that! Even your minuscule half-brain should be able to comprehend that much."
"My God," Zelenka deadpans. "Your faith in Rod is astounding. Never, ever, support me in my times of need."
"What is your problem?!" John curls his hands into tight fists so he doesn't do anything stupid with them. "Just because Rod was ten times smarter than you'll ever be, doesn't mean you have the right to disrespect him now that he's gone and can't fight back!"
"But he's not gone!" Zelenka snaps. "He's not even dead!"
"He's in another universe!"
"He's Rod McKay!"
John stares. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?!"
Zelenka pauses, takes a deep breath, and explains in the voice usually reserved for missions to Planet Never-Never Land. "Do you remember the incident with Rod and the Iratus bug?"
"Yeah, he got bitten by the bug and everyone thought he was gonna die." John wrinkles his nose. "I hate bugs."
"Very good," Zelenka congratulates condescendingly. "And do you remember whenever he got trapped in the cave and everyone was sure he'd been crushed to death?"
"The time on PSX-456 or PXS-654?"
"There was a difference?" Zelenka waves his hand distractedly. "Never mind. The Genii hostage situation of '06? Do you remember that?"
"If you're trying to suck up to me by reciting Rod's greatest moments, this is a pretty crappy attempt."
Zelenka rolls his eyes. "Everyone assured us, multiple times, loudly and at great lengths, that Rod was most certainly going to die or was already dead and yet, yet! Rod is not dead." He points dramatically at John. "The man is like a cockroach. He will not die! I refuse to believe that he is dead unless I strangle him to death with my own two hands. And maybe not even then! I—"
"Is there a problem?" Ronon walks over to their table and looms. He sets his tray down next to John and somehow, manages to remain looming even sitting.
Zelenka forces a sickly smile and quietly quails. "Not at all."
"He was talking bad about Rod," John reports and happily takes a bite of pancake. "He's refusing to pay his respects."
"Huh," Ronon eyes Zelenka in a less than pleasant fashion and grunts. "I thought you said he was only borderline stupid."
Even goldfish can sometimes sense imminent death. Zelenka's sickly smile wavers and he mumbles something about being needed in the labs and flees like a fleeing fleer that flees.
„Rod's gone," John tells Ronon.
"I know," Ronon rumbles reassuringly.
"Zelenka's being a small-minded dink about it."
"Want me to throw him off the pier?"
John considers it. Zelenka's on the pudgy side; he would float. "Would you mind?"
"You should not take out your frustrations with Rod's disappearance and the current situation on your colleagues by convincing Ronon to inflict bodily harm on them," says Teyla and thwaps him hard with her stick. "It is unproductive and inhibits others from doing their jobs as well."
Apparently, Ronon had bumped into Teyla on the way to toss Zelenka off the pier.
"Ow," says John and it's not a whine, it's a simplistic expression of the physical pain he's feeling. "He deserves it." That's not a whine either.
Teyla thwaps him again. "Perhaps," she agrees. "But it was not your place to decide that. You should have reported to the appropriate authority figure and allowed them to handle the matter."
"The 'appropriate authority figure' is trapped in an alternate universe," he snaps out before he can stop himself.
Thwap. "Then you should have discussed the matter with Dr. Weir or Colonel Bates." Teyla says unsympathetically.
John doesn't sulk, and rubs his side. "Rod is gone."
"I know," says Teyla, and doesn't hit him. "But there is still a tear in the sky."
John hesitates, but he knows there's a rebuttal to this, there's always a counter argument, there always is—-
An alarm screeches, and over the intercom, some one shouts "Dr. Sheppard to Lab 1!"
"What did you do?" snarls John when he gets in the lab.
"What did I do?" protests Zelenka. "Only attempt to diagnose the problem, divert the catastrophe, postpone imminent death..."
John ignores him in favor of finding out—"You broke the scanners!"
"I did not!"
"Fine, one of your minions broke the scanners, whatever. By default you broke the scanners!"
"Sheppard!" Zelenka snaps, voice going low and hard in the closest approximation of deadly serious he can manage. "The scanners are not broken! Look again."
John hesitates and Zelenka points. "Now, please!"
John sighs a put-upon sigh, looks at the scanners again, and...no. "This can't be right. There's no way these readings can be correct." He looks at Zelenka for confirmation. "Right?"
"We checked the results three times," says Zelenka. "They're right."
"But Rod fixed it..." That's why he went through the portal. But it didn't work. It was all in vain. Vanities, vanities, it's all vanities...
John slams his fist on the table and swears.
"See," Zelenka chimes in from behind him. "I told you it wasn't my fault."
John slams his fist down harder.
"What's happening is that we're still getting more particles," Zelenka reports at the emergency staff meeting with Elizabeth and Colonel Bates. "And the tear is increasing in the speed at which it is...increasing."
"I don't understand," says Dr. Weir. "I thought you said the other universe had stopped creating more particles. I thought the particles were supposed to disappear."
"Yes, well, they were," admits Zelenka. "At least in theory, they were supposed to."
John rolls his eyes, "Oh, like it comes as a shock to anyone that Zelenka is periodically wrong."
Zelenka sighs and mutters melodramatically, "You blow up a half a solar system one time..."
"Five-eighths," John corrects. "You know it's the simple errors in math that—"
"Gentlemen!" Elizabeth's using the tone that means she's stopped believing that word. "The tear?"
"Right, right," Zelenka clears his throat. "Well, we think—"
"He thinks."
Zelenka rolls his eyes. They're going to stick if he keeps doing that. "I think that the other universe did stop whatever they were doing to create the particles, but that they didn't reverse the process."
Elizabeth blinks. "I'm sorry?"
"It's like a turning a faucet," John jumps in, before Zelenka can confuse Elizabeth any more. "You turn the faucet one way to start the water flowing, but if you stop turning it, the water doesn't stop flowing; it just stops increasing in speed. You have to turn the faucet the other way to get it to turn off."
"Okay," says Bates. "So what's to stop us from turning off the faucet ourselves?"
John starts. He'd forgotten Bates was even there. Bates' tendency to sit back and listen at these meetings periodically turns him invisible. "Well, you see ..."
"We don't know which one they turned on." Shrugs Zelenka. "Or which way to turn it, even if we did. Plus, we still have to drain the tub."
"Drain the tub?" asks Elizabeth.
"Drain the tub?" echoes John incredulously.
Zelenka shrugs. "I was going with the metaphor."
John shakes his head. "You're not allowed use metaphors ever again." He turns back to Elizabeth before she can scold them. "What Zelenka's trying to say, is that whenever the other universe stopped doing...whatever, they not only didn't stop the particles from being created, but they also blocked off any pathways for the particles to leave our universe, essentially leaving us trapped with a steadily increasing flood of death and destruction."
"Like a tub of water..." Zelenka mutters, disgruntled, behind him.
John ignores him. "On top of that, the particles that are being created are reacting with the ones that are already here, causing everything to go much faster that we'd previously anticipated."
"How much faster?" asks Elizabeth. Her voice is quiet and sharp, and she's eyeing Bates the way she does when she knows they're going to have to make a big decision.
"We're not going to last the week. We might not even last the next three days, if we don't do something soon."
Elizabeth nods. "What did you have in mind?"
Zelenka looks at him and hesitates. "We could always...send them back."
"Send them back?" John can see the wheels turning in Elizabeth's head as she mentally reviews everything they've told her about the particles over the last few days. He can see when it clicks. "You want to flood another universe with the same particles that you've just told me are destroying ours?"
Zelenka shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Wuss. "To be fair, they are the ones that started it in the first place..."
"And we don't know that they're not doing it intentionally," John points out. "For all we know they could be well aware of the damage they're causing and they just don't care. Why else wouldn't they have responded to the messages we sent through?"
Elizabeth stares at them disbelievingly. "And you think that justifies it? Even if they were doing it intentionally, what about all the innocent people that weren't responsible for this? Do they deserve to die just because they're in the same universe?"
"Elizabeth," Zelenka says, softly. "What about all the innocent people in our universe?"
Elizabeth exchanges a look with Bates. He doesn't look against the plan, but that could just be stupid military stoicism. "How long will it take to set up a way to send the particles back?"
"About six hours," John replies. "Give or take thirty minutes."
"That would give the other universe time," says Bates. Excellent, John thinks, one down.
"Do it," Elizabeth says after a heavy pause. "But send a message to the other universe first so that they know what we're doing. Maybe it'll shock them into fixing the problem themselves."
"Maybe," John echoes, because he's supposed to and that's what Elizabeth wants to hear, but he doubts it.
They work on the program in Lab 1 mostly because the computer systems they need to pull off this stunt are all here and very unportable. And, heart-stoppingly true enough, by the time they're ready to activate the program the tear will have grown to be in close enough proximity for them to interact with, without having to fly up in a jumper to meet it, which says volumes about the situation they're in, so John's not thinking about that. Instead, he's thinking about cheerier things, like:
"What if whatever we're doing kills Rod?" He doesn't really want an answer and is pretty much convinced that Rod is dead already—if he weren't, he would've fixed this for good by now—but he thinks better out loud and it's not like anyone could actually hear—
Zelenka sighs pitifully and put-upon. "Then when he returns to Atlantis, he will have super powers to accompany his descension and nudity."
Except freakish imp-like Czechs with ears bigger than their heads.
"What's your obsession with seeing Rod naked?" Ronon rumbles from where he's leaning against the wall. John suspects that Ronon was sent by Teyla to keep him from killing Zelenka until after they've saved the day.
"Seriously," John chimes in. "Do you have a crush on him or something?"
Zelenka opens his mouth to snap, sees Ronon eyeing him, and reconsiders. "No, but from previous experience I have learned that Rod is most likely to come back in the least convient way for me possible. I have no desire to see Rod naked," Zelenka blanches a little even as he says it, "the thought actually makes me fairly ill. Therefore, because the universe and Rod have conspired against me, Rod will come back naked." He nods decisively.
Ronon raises an eyebrow. "And the descended part?"
Zelenka ruffles up like a bird, mildly indignant, "How else would he reach godhood before me? How dare he? It wouldn't be fair, therefore according to the laws of universe it will happen."
John thinks about reminding him that the Ancients weren't really gods and if ascending was all it took to become a god, what does that make Daniel Jackson, but Ronon's looking a little too thoughtful for his own good, and John's not sure if he still (ever did?) worships the Ancients so he keeps his mouth shut.
Five hours and forty-five minutes later, when John and Zelenka are putting the final touches on the program and Ronon has gotten bored of watching John not kill Zelenka and left, Bates trundles in to check up on them.
"How is it coming, Doctors?" Bates asks with all the confidence that comes from having no idea what's going on.
"It'll be done. Stop fretting." John attempts to wave Bates away, but all it does is send him to go bother Zelenka.
"So what are you doing?" Bates asks, peering over Zelenka's shoulder.
"Solving the problem." John mutters.
"Creating the materials needed for a large burst of energy," Zelenka explains. "and then orchestrating the precise timing and placement of this burst of energy in order to envelop all of the particles."
"So the energy burst will what? Round up the particles and send them back through the portal?"
Zelenka nods. "Essentially, yes."
John stares. "Uh, essentially, no. That's like saying air is oxygen."
"It's not?" asks Bates.
"My metaphors are bad?" grumbles Zelenka.
John rolls his eyes. "My point is that the process is way more complicated that Zelenka's making it sound. If it were really that simple, we'd have been done by now. And violated several laws of the universe. As it is we're dealing with highly volatile particles and a high reaction rate and—"
As if in self-defense, Bates' eyes glaze over and he looks over at Zelenka.
"We're pushing the particles back where they came from with a burst of energy," Zelenka assures him.
Bates nods, in a fairly decent impersonation of knowing what he's talking about. "Right."
John shakes his head. Morons.
The scanners beep.
"It's time," says Zelenka.
"Could you have possibly come up with anything more cliche?" John grumbles and takes a deep breath. "Are you ready?"
Zelenka licks his lips. "Yes."
John looks over at Bates. "Colonel?"
Bates nods. "Do it, Sheppard."
Here goes nothing, John thinks, and presses the button. "Three...two...one," he watches the scanners flash when the energy pulses and the particles are sent through. He's feeling jittery and in motion, the same feeling he gets in the heat of a crisis, in the three seconds right before everything either goes really well or they all die. Take that, he thinks. You can't destroy my universe.
The scanners flash a different color and Zelenka goes, "Interesting." John checks his screen and...
"What happened?" asks Bates, his hand automatically twitching towards his weapon.
John blinks at his screen, but the numbers don't change. "The other universe isn't as stupid as we thought they were. I guess they figured out how to read our messages. Either that or they stopped torturing Rod long enough for him to fix things."
"And by that you mean?"
"They're also sending a pulse of energy," Zelenka pipes up. Bates gives him a blank look and, like a trained seal, come to think of it, he elaborates. "Basically, the combined pulses of energy will react with the particles and cause them to, for all intents and purposes, disappear."
"It's a little bit more complicated than that," John snorts.
"It's really not," Zelenka counters.
"It really is."
"Docs!" Bates interrupts, looking a little he's channeling Elizabeth. "The tear? What do we do about the other universe?"
John exchanges a look with Zelenka. "That's easy. We wait."
"For?"
"The particles to stop reacting, obviously." John shrugs. "The pulse of energy they're sending through isn't going to hurt us any. All we have to do is keep our side of the portal open until the reaction is complete."
"Why?" asks Bates. He sees Zelenka open his mouth to respond, realizes he's talking to a scientist and backtracks. "Never mind, you guys know what you're doing."
John snorts. "I'm so glad we have your confidence. I don't know how we got this far without you boosting our fragile self-esteem. I-"
"John," Zelenka cuts him off and shoves a laptop at him. "Take a look at this."
"What did you do?" John snaps automatically and looks at the screen. "Huh."
"Dr. Sheppard?" asks Bates.
John shakes his head and rechecks the data. "Something else is coming through the portal."
"Something else?" repeats Bates. "Like what?"
"Like anything," says Zelenka. "It's not a particle; it's not a data transmission. It's something...solid, tangible. Something organic." He blinks thoughtfully. "It could be Rod coming back."
John glares at him. "Yeah, or it could be a flesh-eating Hydra from Planet Terror. We won't know until it gets here."
"What happens if you guys shut down the portal before the object comes in?"
"It would still come through," Zelenka takes off his glasses and cleans them on his shirt. "Instead of functioning like a door that opens both ways, it more like two one-way streets. Just because we blocked off our street, cars can still come from the other universe."
"Hey! What did I tell you about using metaphors?"
Bates ignores them both. "When was the last time you updated Dr. Weir?"
"Uh..." John hedges, "She really doesn't need to know every little detail..."
"That's what I thought." Bates taps on his ear piece. "Dr. Weir..."
"I don't know why you're so upset," Zelenka pipes up cheerily. "It could be Rod."
"It could be an evil alien," John rebuts. "It's probably retaliation for attempting to send the particles back."
"We can always kill it when it gets here," Zelenka smiles. "That's what the military's here for."
On cue, Bates barks, "Major Cadman!" They exchange some sort of secret military command with a series of grunts, code words and eyebrow twitches that has the end result of her summoning Marines from secret compartments and organizing them in geometric patterns.
John taps at his keyboard. "Can you get them to move any faster? The object's going to be here in...three...two...one."
There's a flash of light and the crack of guns being lifted, aimed and cocked, and John curls close to his desk, ready to duck and—
"Huh," says Rod looking exactly the same as the last time John saw him two days ago, black leather jacket and all. "And I wasn't even wearing red slippers."
There's a chorus of ohmyGods in at least three different languages, and you'd think there would be some professionals amidst the bag of rag-tags John works with, but apparently there aren't because there's a mass of people swarming Rod with hugs and tears and laughter and stating the obvious and inane like, "You're back!" and "You're not dead!"
John refuses to debase himself like that and really, if Rod wanted to know how he felt about morons who went off and nearly got themselves killed, he could come over here himself.
Zelenka catches his eye, smirks and leans back in his chair, arms behind his head. "I told you he would be back," he says, casual and relaxed like he's at the beach. But his face is three shades paler than normal, John notes, and he hasn't quite gotten his hands to stop shaking.
"He's not naked," John points out. "And any moron with two eyes and half a brain can tell he didn't descend from on high."
Radek waves his hand dismissively. "Minor details."
Rod saunters over and slaps a hand on John's back. "Hey guys, did I miss anything?"
~Fin~
[Poll #1176423]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 06:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 06:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:37 pm (UTC)Thanks for the praise! I'm pleased it made you giggle. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:45 pm (UTC)Thanks a bunch!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:48 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it, though! Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-24 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:52 pm (UTC)I'm glad you got a kick out of it. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-04-25 09:22 am (UTC)I don't know whether you know I love tight, funny dialog; understated, strong, poorly-understood emotions; and friendship, oddly expressed; but you sure hit what makes me love a story.
I read the story aloud (bedtime reading is the only reading I have time for this week; fortunately, my younger daughter prefers SGA fic to picture books), and laughed the whole way through. (It helped knowing in advance that it would probably end happily!)
Favorite lines:
John's "You're not allowed use metaphors ever again."
and
"My God," Zelenka deadpans. "Your faith in Rod is astounding. Never, ever, support me in my times of need."
and
Radek's, from previous experience I have learned that Rod is most likely to come back in the least convient way for me possible.
Thanks for writing this!!
- Helen
no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:57 pm (UTC)my younger daughter prefers SGA fic to picture books
Hee! Get them started young! ;-) I'm flattered that it was bedtime quality, too.
I'm thrilled you liked it. I had a blast writing it. :)
no subject
Date: 2008-04-25 02:19 pm (UTC)I really like how it could so easily have been just the two of them reversed, but Sheppard's reactions were so very Sheppard! And I have to say he's much, much better at terrorising poor Zelenka than Rodney is ;-)
You nearly killed me with the pigeon porn remark, btw.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 07:03 pm (UTC)Periodically, while writing Sheppard I would suddenly be struck by this realization that "OMG, I'm channelling McKay! Ack! Wrong character, wrong character!" So to hear that Sheppard stayed Sheppard is really reassuring and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks a bunch!
Ah, pigeon porn, it's like the best alliteration ever. ;)
Glad you liked it!
no subject
Date: 2008-04-26 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 07:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 07:12 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked it! Thanks! :)