Chapter Three: Progeny

Author’s Note:Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate the comments, corrections, and suggestions that you guys have given. Please keep it coming, as your efforts make this story better. Chapter One v.1.0 proved that I cannot be trusted, lol. Also, Rodney’s “Cool/Fine” line is lifted from an SGA episode, although I can’t remember which one.



Chapter Three: Progeny

As expected, Rodney was the only one in the lab at this time of night. He was hunched over a computer, a sheaf of papers in one hand as he typed with the other. John stood back and cleared his throat.

“Hey, McKay. Did you find out what happened to the stargate?”

Rodney stiffened, barely looking at John before he turned back to his computer. “I’m working on it. The readings indicate that a massive power surge came from the Earth ZPM, which overloaded the stargate system. It should have blown both the gates, but instead the power fed into the wormhole itself. Somehow your sister managed to survive exposure to an atomic-level energy wave. That famous Sheppard luck of yours must be genetic.”

“Jesus Christ,” John breathed. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if Dawn had arrived in Atlantis as nothing more than a smear of ash.

“Sam’s going over things on her end. She’s pulled the ZPM and General Landry is holding all gate travel till they figure it out.”

“Do we need to shut down our gate, too?” John said. It wouldn’t be much of a problem right now, since they didn’t have any missions scheduled until the newbies settled in, but Teyla and Ronon were on New Athos and planned to come back in a couple days.

“No,” Rodney said, shaking his head. And, jeez, couldn’t the guy turn and look at John already? “The Earth stargate is the one that messed up. We should be fine.”

“I hope we’re fine,” John said tentatively, not meaning the stargate. He took a deep breath, because now it was time to get into everything he didn’t want to talk about. Damnit.

“Sometimes I think I know you,” Rodney said absently, still staring at his papers. Still not looking at John. “I trust you with my life, with all our lives, and I think you trust me too. When we’re out in the field there’s nothing you won’t do for me, for the team, to keep us all safe. You’ve nearly died so many times, saving us. Is it really that hard for you to open up and let us help you?”

Rodney said us, but he meant me.

“I do trust you,” John said uncomfortably, staring at Rodney’s profile.

“Not with this,” Rodney said, finally turning around. His blue eyes were sharp, focused, and John kinda wished he were still talking to the back of Rodney’s head. “Sheppard, I’ve known you for nearly four years and you’ve never mentioned your sister. You’ve never mentioned your family at all, other than to imply your father was upset about what happened to you in Afghanistan. And when your sister does show up - in a rather spectacular manner, may I add - you nearly have a panic attack.”

“I - I didn’t –”

He didn’t have a defense for this. Not for Rodney being all calm and logical. He’d expected Rodney to yell and bitch and wave his hands around.

“Your dad was in the Air Force and you were a military brat,” Rodney said, not letting him out of whatever this was. “You moved around a lot. Then your parents divorced and you lived with your mom in Texas. What happened after that?”

“She got breast cancer,” John nearly whispered. He folded his arms and stared at the twists of metal scattered on Rodney’s lab desk. “Had it before the divorce, but I didn’t know. I think it’s why my dad –” He stopped to clear his throat. “She fought it for a while. Chemo, radiation, experimental drugs, all that. It bought her some time. Then she died.”



Early April, and the day was beautiful. Blue skies, warm sunshine, and the kind of fresh breeze you only got in the spring. John went through the house, opened every window and curtain, even though the hospice nurse insisted it wasn’t good for his mother. But Kathleen smiled and said she wanted to see the honeysuckle outside her window.

John curled up in front of her on the bed. It took a lot of maneuvering to do it, but the three of them managed. His mom on her side, propped by pillows, with John tucked under her chin. He got her arm around his waist and carefully threaded his fingers through hers, wary of his nails against her paper-thin skin.

The nurse moved around behind them, rearranging the wires and tubes. Oxygen, pulse-ox, apnea monitor, IV, Foley bag, G-tube, and feeding pump. John ignored the rhythmic beeping and whirring, concentrated on his mother’s breath in his ear and the wind sighing outside.

The honeysuckle bobbed in the breeze, the fancy pink ones his mother loved. They climbed over a trellis propped in the back yard, a wild profusion of leaves and blossoms spreading in every direction, the long vines swaying in the stronger winds. John didn’t know how long they stayed like that, staring together out of the window. His arm went numb, then his shoulder, and he needed to pee, but he couldn’t move. Not right now.

“I love you, Johnny,” his mom said. Over and over and over, whispering against his hair, and John hated the way he held his breath when she spoke, hated himself for thinking her words smelled like something dead.

“I love you, Mom,” he said every time. He wanted to hug her, bury his face in her hair and cry. He couldn’t, though. He’d break her if he did, snap her like the dry, brittle thing she was. And her hair had fallen out long ago.

There was a hummingbird now, brilliant green with a red throat. It flitted over the honeysuckle, its long beak dipping into the belled flowers.

“Do you see it, Mom? Can you see the hummingbird?”

“Yes, baby. It’s so beautiful….”

Then her breath made a funny hitching noise, a little wheeze on the end, and John’s chest clenched. Alarms started blaring behind them, but the nurse switched them off and sat back in her chair. His mom’s breaths became shorter, each with that horrible huff, and the pauses between got longer. John found himself holding his own breath when she did, till the last time when spots danced in front of his eyes and the edges of the world went gray. One last exhale, rattling from her chest, and it was over. She was gone.

John turned then, curling into her chest and clutching at her shoulders. The nurse turned off all the machines and the beeping ended. John didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but the front of his mom’s nightgown was soaked with tears when the nurse finally pulled him away.


Rodney was looking at him. Not doing anything but looking at John with a sad, regretful expression. Not pity, but close enough. John's fingers tightened on his arms.

“My dad showed up for the funeral," John went on. "Took me home to pack a couple suitcases. We were on a plane and at his house in California before dinner.”



Standing in his new room, which used to be Barbara’s sewing room. Matching bed and dresser set, even nicer than the one’s his mom had, and pillows with the tags still on.

“I’ll let you unpack and get settled in,” his dad said, staring at John like he expected something.

“Yes, sir,” John said, and stared back until his dad left, shutting the door behind him.

John dropped his suitcases and sat on the bed. He looked out of the window at the neighbor’s house and hated the tidy rose garden running along the side fence. He sat there until Dawnie came, her pudgy fists banging against his door because she couldn’t reach the knob.



“My dad was stationed at Edwards Air Force Base. Long term, so no more moving for us. Barbara, my step-mom, really liked it. There’s a pretty big social scene, if you’re into that sort of thing.”



He stood in the living room, waiting for the guests to arrive. Barbara was fussing over Dawnie, fixing the bow in her hair. John fidgeted with his jacket, trying to pull the sleeves down, but his wrists stayed bare. He’d told Barbara that the jacket was too small.

“Mama’s pretty baby! Such a pretty pumpkin,” Barbara sing-songed, her finger’s tickling over Dawnie’s sides. Dawnie squealed and wiggled, soaking up the attention. Barbara peppered her face with kisses, then carefully rubbed off the faint traces of lipstick. “Be a good girl for Mommy and you can have ice cream after dinner.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Dawnie said obediently. At four, she’d do just about anything for ice cream.

Barbara straightened, smoothing her dress, and spared a glance for John. Her face pinched in disapproval. “That jacket’s too small. Honestly, Johnny, I just got it for you!”

He shrugged. It wasn’t exactly his fault he’d grown.

“Take it off and put it in your bedroom. And for god’s sake, don’t spill anything on your shirt this time!”



“Barbara and I didn’t get along very well. She had her family, her life, and I was the kid who came along and messed up her plans. My dad wasn’t home much, but even when he was he’d usually stay in the sitting room, reading the newspaper or something. Pretty stereotypical.”

“What about Dawn?” Rodney asked. “Where did she fit into the Sheppard family dynamic?”

“I don’t know. She was just a little kid,” John shrugged. “Oblivious, like most kids are. I baby-sat a lot, but even if Dad and Barbara were home, Dawn always followed me around. It was kinda annoying, you know? I was a teenager. I wanted to hang out with my friends, not my little sister. But Dawn was alright.”



God, it was hot. Sweat trickled down John’s face and neck and soaked through his thin t-shirt. He used a forearm to push damp hair away from his face, but it flopped back right away. He was caked in dirt and his hands were covered in tiny cuts and sticky sap from the weeds. He hated weeding the gardens, which was why his dad always gave it to him as punishment.

“Hey, Johnny. I brought you sumthin’.”

John turned to look at Dawnie. She was carefully crossing the backyard, both hands wrapped around a large glass. Pale yellow liquid sloshed over the rim, wetting her fingers.

“Thanks, kiddo,” John said, kneeling back and smiling up at Dawnie. She handed over the glass solemnly.

“I made it myself,” she said, watching his reaction as John took a sip.

Sweetness coated his tongue, and John forced himself not to choke. He peered into the glass, and sure enough there was a layer of sugar at the bottom of the lemonade.

“It’s great,” he said. “Thank you.”

Dawnie’s smile lit up her face.



“She was six when I went to college. Couldn’t understand why I was going away. I’d promised I’d call her and write letters, but you know how it is. I went back for breaks and over summer, and it was like I’d never left. I’d barely get in the door and Dawn would show me her schoolwork. Tell me about her friends and drag me into her room to show me her new toys.”

“Sounds like she adored you,” Rodney said quietly.

“Yeah, she did.” John laughed bitterly. “God, Barbara hated it.”



“This is all your fault,” Barbara said viciously, her voice rising over Dawnie’s quiet whimpering. John flinched, but he didn’t let go of Dawnie. Held her tightly as Barbara sped recklessly down the street. “How could you let this happen?”

“I’m sorry,” John said, but he meant it for Dawnie. She was sitting sideways over his lap, face buried in his neck, with her broken arm cradled between them. Her tears itched his skin. John held her close, tried to hold her steady as the car rattled over the road. “I’m so sorry.”

John carried Dawnie into the emergency room. She wasn’t heavy, but he was still breathless. The triage nurse took them straight back and told John to put Dawnie on the exam table. The doctor and a couple of nurses showed up in a flurry of activity, clustering around Dawnie and impersonally forcing John out of the way.

“Sit in the waiting room,” Barbara said, ordering him from the room. “Your father is on the way.”

Dawnie cried out when the doctor moved her wrist, and John started forward. Barbara grabbed John by the shoulder and pulled him around.

“Go!” she said, and pushed him out of the room. “I don’t want you in here!”

John went. He stumbled down the hall and found the waiting room through blurry eyes. He picked a chair in the corner and curled up as best he could on the hard seat. John ignored the murmur and drone of the other people, ignored the soap opera on the static-y television in the corner. He leaned his forehead on his knees and breathed.

He sat like that forever, till a strong hand on his shoulder pulled him up.

“Johnny, what happened?” his dad asked. He was crouched in front of John, his hazel eyes gentle and worried.

“Dawnie, she broke her arm,” John blurted, even though Dad already knew that part. “We were down the street at Tim’s house. His brother has a new bike ramp. Dawnie wanted to try it too, but I wouldn’t let her! I didn’t let her, Dad, I swear! She got mad at me and said she was going home. She got on her bike and left. But she cut over a-and –”

John’s voice choked off, and he squeezed his eyes closed.

“It’s okay, Johnny,” his dad said. John looked up in surprise; that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. “Accidents happen. Believe me, I know that. And your sister’s as stubborn as the rest of us Sheppards.”

“She looked so little….”

John had dropped his bike and started running as soon as Dawnie had aimed for the ramp, but there was no way he could’ve stopped her in time. Then she was on it and up and over; not much height on the jump, but enough. The training wheels on her My Little Pony bike had been spinning through the air. Dawnie had landed hard, but for a second John had thought she’d make it, that she'd be alright.

Then Dawnie had lost control of her handle bars, and the front wheel had turned hard, sending her crashing sideways to the pavement. Dawnie had started screaming. John had gotten to her and pulled the bike off her legs as he tried to figure out what was wrong. The other kids had run up, trying to help, but John had pushed them back. He’d scooped up Dawnie and run the whole way home.

“I’m going to go back and check on Dawnie,” Dad said. He rubbed John’s shoulder. “Will you be alright out here?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” John said. Dad nodded, looking at him for a moment. John wondered what he saw. His dad went away then, tracked down a nurse and disappeared through the back.

John waited for a couple more hours, then Dad finally came back, carrying Dawnie and with Barbara right next to him. Barbara was petting Dawnie’s back and murmuring nonsense words, but she managed to glare at John when he walked over.

They drove back to the house in silence, John and Dawnie in the back seat of his dad’s car. Barbara followed in her own car, thank god. Dad carefully shifted Dawnie out of car and carried her into the house. John tried to escape into the house as well, but Barbara caught up to him on the front porch.

“I am absolutely livid with you,” she said icily, perfectly enunciating each word. “You are grounded for the rest of the summer. No bike, no television, and you will go to bed immediately after dinner every night. You will also have extra chores to keep you out of trouble.”

“But that’s not fair!” John protested.

“If life was fair, you’d be the one with a broken arm right now, and not my daughter. Now go to your room!”

John fled.



“Was it a case of Wicked Step-Mother Syndrome, or was she an all around bitch?” Rodney asked. He was leaning on his elbow, propped against the desk as he looked at John.

John rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t a movie, Rodney. I mean, there were plenty of good times, vacations and stuff, when we all got along. She was a great mom to Dawn, and she and my dad could be really goofy sometimes.”

“But raising kids is hard, and you weren’t her kid.”

Rodney nailed it.

John nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t her kid. But she tried.”



“Oh, good Lord,” Barbara said, staring up at the roller coaster. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

John laughed, bumping her shoulder with his own. He was taller than Barbara now, and she had to reach up to swat the back of his head.

“It’ll be good for you. I can’t believe you’ve never been on a roller coaster before.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting on one now,” Barbara said dryly, but she wasn’t backing out. She could’ve, too. Could’ve left John to stand in line by himself and gone with Dad and Dawnie to get ice cream cones. “Why are we standing in the back, anyway? The lines for the middle cars are much shorter.”

John grinned, slow and lazy. “That’s because the last car goes the fastest.”

Barbara fussed and complained, but it was all in fun. She let John chivvy her along in line, let John tease her about being too old for the roller coaster.

“Hey, this old lady beat you on the bumper cars, mister,” she reminded him with a smug grin.

They finally got their turn. John clambered into the car and helped Barbara get the harness over her head. She grabbed his hand as the cars started moving, and John squeezed back. The coaster slowly made the steep ascent, climbing up and up and up.

“Oh, wow! I can see everything!” Barbara’s voice was delighted as she looked over the side.

“Not for long,” John said excitedly. The coaster was starting to inch over the top, that last breathless moment before the cars whip-lashed to the bottom and roared through the corkscrews and turnbacks.

“Here we go!” John yelled. Barbara screamed as they went rocketing down, and clutched John’s fingers hard enough to grind the bones. John laughed and laughed as the wind tore the sound from his mouth.

They rode it three more times before Dad and Dawnie dragged them off to the teacup ride.



“So what happened?” Rodney asked. “What made things so bad that you never talk about them? Hell, you know about all my family drama.”

“That’s because your sister spilled the beans, Meredith.”

“Ha ha,” Rodney said sourly. “But seriously. I mean, I’m not the most with it guy when it comes to sharing and caring, but I know all about Teyla and her family. Ronon even talks about Melena. Not much, granted, and most of it’s in snarls and grunts, but at least I know the basics. I’m just now learning how much I don’t know about you.”

“I’m not big with the sharing and caring myself,” John said, shrugging. He snagged a chair from another desk, pulled it over to Rodney’s and straddled the back. His feet were getting tired. “My dad and Barbara were…distant people. Not the type to surprise you with random hugs. Or not me, anyway. They did that stuff for Dawn, but I think it was easier because she was little.”

“While you were the prickly teenager, with all the angst and surliness that implies, and still upset over your mom’s death.”

“Pretty much,” John said wryly. “I think they call it ‘acting out’ now. Back then it was ‘being a troublemaker’. My dad was strict. Came down on me like a ton of bricks every time I got in trouble. We used to get into these huge fights over every little thing. God, some of those fights were so stupid.”



Sitting at the kitchen table again, back against the wall while Dad and Barbara looked down at him.

“Why are you so irresponsible?” Dad yelled. “You’re seventeen! You can’t do this little kid stuff anymore, Johnny!”

“What is the big deal?” John said, frustration lacing his voice. “I only missed the bus this morning! It’s not a federal offense, Dad!”

“You made me late,” Barbara said, putting in her two cents. “You wouldn’t get your lazy butt out of bed, so I had to drive you to school, which made me late for work. That’s the big deal, John. You don’t care how your actions affect other people. You never think of the consequences.”

“Look, I get why you guys are mad,” John said, holding up his hands. “I know that what I did was wrong. And I’m sorry! I’m sorry I over-slept. I’m sorry I made you late, Barbara.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, John,” Barbara snapped at him. “This is the second time this year you’ve missed the bus, and I’m sure it’ll happen again because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“Hey!” John yelled, stung. “That’s not true!”

“I’ll give you ‘true’,” Dad said, and John’s stomach sank. He knew that tone of voice. “You’re grounded for a month. You’ll take the bus home after school and you can wait at Mrs. Belfi’s house until Barbara or I get home.”

Goddamnit.

“Maybe this will teach you some responsibility,” Barbara said. John wondered where the hell she got her degree in logic, because that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard.

“Maybe if you guys let me do more, this wouldn’t be a problem,” John said. No way was he letting the Belfi thing pass without argument. “Why can’t I buy a car? I’m seventeen! I have my own money and everything! Mr. Alford is selling his old truck, and he said he’d help me fix the water pump if I –”

“No,” Dad said, his hand slashing through the air as he cut John off. “No way do you get a car until you earn it.”

Barbara turned on his dad. “There’s no way he’s getting a car, period! Good Lord, Richard, just think of all the trouble he’ll get into.”

“But I can help,” John said desperately. “I can run errands and stuff. Go to the grocery store, or pick up Dawnie from kindergarten –”

“Absolutely not!” Barbara said, hand flying over her heart in shock. “Dawnie is not getting in a car with you. Ever!”

Jesus, that hurt. And it wasn’t nearly the end of the argument. Dad and Barbara kept him there another hour, going over each of John’s massive character flaws. In detail. He was irresponsible, immature, lazy, stubborn, self-centered, and flighty. Flighty, for fuck’s sake. It was nearly midnight before they let John go to his room. And how, exactly, did they expect him to get up on time now?



“Things got easier when I moved out and went to college,” John said. He picked up a small globe from Rodney’s desk, passing it from hand to hand. He sent it a small thought, but it didn't activate. He shook it experimentally. Nothing rattled, so it was probably out of juice.

“Careful with that,” Rodney said, but he didn’t try to snatch it back, so it must not have been dangerous.

“You know, college was great,” John said, grinning happily. “I spent the first year in the dorms, which sucked hardcore, but after that I got my own crappy apartment off campus. At first I went a little crazy with the partying, but nothing too bad. No parents watching everything I did, no little sister following me around. All that time to do whatever I wanted.”

“Did you manage to go to class at all?” Rodney asked, rolling his eyes.

“Every now and then,” John said, teasing. “Not all of us find school as fascinating as you did, Rodney.”

“Whatever, Mr. Math Major,” Rodney said. “You might be a super-cool flyboy now, but there’s gotta be an awful lot of geek in there somewhere.”

“Buried,” John said gravely. “Under the avalanche of my super-awesomeness.”

“Sheppard, statements like that only prove how dorky you are,” Rodney said. But he was smiling at John now, so that was okay. “How do you feel about Dawn being here?”

John sighed. “Way to ask the easy questions, McKay.”

“I do what I can.”

“I…haven’t spent too much time thinking about it,” John said. Or, well, he had thought about it. He just didn’t have any answers yet.

“Are you happy to see Dawn?”

“Yes.” He was happy to see her. John would have preferred to see her somewhere back on Earth, though. Even if he’d seen her at the Mountain, it wouldn’t have been so bad. “I think the issue isn’t that she’s here,” John said slowly, “it’s that I’m in charge of her.”

“Responsible for her,” Rodney said. And when the hell had he gotten so insightful?

“That’s it,” John said, agreeing immediately. “I’m responsible for everyone here, not just Dawn, but with her, it’s more….”

What was the word he was looking for?

“Personal,” Rodney suggested, looking at him intently.

“No,” John said, shaking his head. He held Rodney’s gaze, willing him to understand. “It’s always personal with certain people. I’m used to that. I’ve learned how to deal. It’s knowing that if – no, when something happens to Dawn, I’m going to have to tell Dad and Barbara that I let her get hurt.”

“It’s not a given,” Rodney said, protesting mildly.

“The hell it’s not, McKay,” John said, irritated. He tossed the Ancient globe onto Rodney’s desk, ignoring his indignant yelp. “Something bad always happens. Even to the people who never leave the city. Remember what happened with that nurse, Marcus? He got the funky space-leprosy from the old labs and had to transfer Earthside. He was under quarantine for weeks. Carson said the guy was lucky his skin grew back at all.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Rodney said, shoulders twitching. “He looked disgusting.”

“I’m sure it didn’t feel too great either,” John said pointedly. Rodney waved that off

“Fine. Bad stuff happens to everybody. I’m not disagreeing, I’m just saying it’s not a foregone conclusion that Dawn will get seriously injured.”

John held up his hand and started ticking off items on his fingers. “Wraith. Asurans. Genii. Iratus bugs. Pissed off villagers.” He switched to his other hand. “Energy-sucking monsters. Dangerous Ancient tech. Super volcanoes. Tidal waves. And brain-melting whales, Rodney. Do I need to take off my boots and keep counting?”

“Please don’t,” Rodney shuddered. “Your toes are freakishly long and hairy.”

John glared at him.

“You’ll just have to get used to it,” Rodney said, not unkindly. “Find some way to deal, because this situation won’t change. The only constant in Atlantis is that things always get worse.”

“Way to be reassuring,” John said. He hadn’t expected Rodney to be all warm and fuzzy, but couldn’t the guy do better than this?

Rodney shrugged. “You want reassuring, go talk to Heightmeyer. But since we both know that won’t ever happen, you’re stuck with me. Or Teyla. Actually, Teyla’s probably your best bet. You can tell her all about your not-so-sordid past while she hits you with sticks.”

“Yeah, that’ll probably work,” John said, perking up slightly.

The amazing thing about Teyla was that she seemed to understand John without him having to say much. She made statements, John grunted, and the result was a deep, meaningful conversation. It worked really well.

“Great,” Rodney said, brightening with relief. “I’m glad that’s taken care of.”

John snorted. “Me, too.”

They sat for a moment, neither saying anything. It was pretty nice. Rodney was just leaning on his desk, for once not moving or talking or running around madly. He was looking at John, and his blue eyes blinked sleepily.

“So…. Are we cool?” John asked. Rodney’s earlier anger had been unsettling, and John hoped they were back to normal.

“No,” Rodney said with a small smile. “You’re cool. I’m fine.”

“Good to know,” John said with relief. He pushed away from his chair and stood, swinging the chair back to into its place at the next desk. “I’m headed for bed. You look tired. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes, Mom,” Rodney said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll brush my teeth and wash behind my ears, too.”

John left then, satisfied that things were back to normal between them. He had dreaded the conversation with Rodney, but it hadn’t been too bad. Now he only had to get through it with Teyla. John sighed. At least he had a couple of days to get things straight in his own head before he had to face her.