John suspected that going along with Atlantis was a mistake, but he figured it wasn’t his first and wouldn’t be his last. He had nothing to lose, anyway, and finally getting the upper hand over McKay would be worth about any price.
He was tired of being led around by a nose ring, and if Atlantis was willing to help him then John was willing to take the help. Everyone was using him like a two-dollar whore, so he figured it was a fair trade. And despite Her pretensions of emotional responses, John was hardly convinced She was anything more than some complex algorithm.
John barely slept and was up before the early-morning shift change that mostly affected the Marines on security detail. Walking gingerly through the halls, John managed to avoid being seen. He knew where the command chair was, and even if he didn’t, Atlantis was giving him a chatty radio signal that led to it.
McKay had a hard on for the chair but not the ATA-active gene to run it, which seemed to be his main incentive to shanghai John in the first place. He had it on the roster for John to initialize it the following week, when a full medical team and science unit could be on hand at the same time. Apparently they were running so many off-world missions that it was hard to put all the necessary players in the same room at the same time.
(That, or Lorne was fucking McKay over with the duty roster for the hell of it. John gave even odds either way.)
John also knew that it was unguarded. He had asked about that but McKay looked pissed then said that it was because no one was insane enough to try it out on a whim.
No one but John Sheppard, apparently.
Atlantis calmed down a little once John sealed the door to the room behind him, sending out waves of nervous approval. She was obviously picking up on his frustration and anger with McKay, but was too excited about John sitting in the chair to pull back.
He thought he should be bothered by having an emotionally-charged psychic link with an alien city, but on his “recent list of weird” that was towards the bottom. John’s nerves pinged with warning, but he stuffed that away. He needed answers.
Settled carefully into the chair, which leaned back and lit up with enthusiasm, John closed his eyes and let Atlantis fuss over him like a worried mother. She pulled up recordings and files and reports and every single thing she could grab, including what looked like a wiki full of information about John.
Only it was more than that, it was a fucking dossier on every aspect of John’s life from the time he was a boy…including the obituary for his brother David. John’s own obituary. Every official reprimand. Private letters between his commanding officers about him. Everything. Including the results of Anne’s autopsy, something John had not even known had been conducted. Atlantis tried to pull that away but John grabbed it, trapped the information where he could touch it, his one last connection to the woman he loved.
She had died quickly, something they had told him but he never really believed. He knew she died scared and that was enough to damn him. The fact was that the first shot took her out, the rest were just decorative. John scanned over the other medical info, pathetically curious and unable to let go. There was one short line of text that pulled him up short.
She had been pregnant.
Enraged, John blew out the DHD while the city screamed at him to let Her go. He was hurting Her. She was going to hurt him.
He didn’t care.
#
Characters: Atlantis - Character, John Sheppard, Rodney McKay
Narrative mode: third-limited