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Five and a half years after John Sheppard’s death, General Jack O’Neill and Doctor Daniel Jackson rang the doorbell of David Sheppard’s palatial home. It was a few minutes before noon. A young uniformed maid opened the door, told them to wait, slammed the door on them, and then rushed to get her boss.
David, who had been in his office enjoying a Brandy, was unhappy at being disturbed. Not usually one to indulge in spirits so early, he made an exception once a year. His wife and daughters had left early in the morning for New York, a yearly pilgrimage in which they spent a week honoring the gods of retail, most of which were located on Fifth Ave. or Madison Ave. David loved his family, but he also loved this week of solitude.
He was annoyed when he saw Jack’s uniform, as he had thought he was done forever with the Air Force. The Air Force had created quite enough headaches in his life, thank you very much. Putting on his corporate face, he asked, “What can I do for you gentlemen?”
“You may not remember us, Mr. Sheppard, but we were part of the group that escorted your brother home. This is General O’Neill and I’m Doctor Jackson. Can we come in?”
“I’m rather busy. Perhaps you can make an appointment with my secretary.”
Jack, used to dealing with heads of state, politicians, and other important dignitaries, had no patience for arrogance in any man, and certainly not in what he considered a minor businessman. “Don’t be an ass, Sheppard. If it weren’t important, we wouldn’t be here,” he barked.
Recognizing the voice of authority, David stepped aside and begrudgingly led the men to his office. He sat at his desk and signaled the two men to sit.
Doctor Jackson took a small device from his pocket and swept it across the room before seating himself. “It’s clean.”
General O’Neill removed some papers from his briefcase and placed them in front of David. “Standard non-disclosure statements. I suggest you sign them.”
David, taking the measure of the men seated in front of him, decided it would be easier to sign than argue and he did so. He handed the signed statement over to Jack, who made of point of checking it over carefully.
“Daniel?”
“Right. Two weeks from today, the President will be disclosing a top secret program that has been in operation for a number of years,” Daniel began.
“You’ll forgive me for interrupting, Doctor Jackson, but what does this have to do with me? Surely you can’t be unaware of the effects military secrecy had on my family,” David spit out bitterly.
Jack made a show of adjusting the cuffs of his jacket before answering the charge. “Military secrecy has affected many families, Mr. Sheppard, mine included. But, as a man of the world, I’m sure you’ll agree that sometimes the greater good has to be put before any individual’s personal life,” Jack commented mildly, hiding his anger at this bitter man.
Daniel jumped in with a stern glare at Jack. “Putting aside personal philosophy, this concerns you and your family because in two weeks time, your brother is going to become one of the most famous men on the planet. Since he’s deceased, the world’s media is going to land on your doorstep.”
David paled at the casual mention of his brother’s death. It had been more than five years, and David still had not come to terms with his brother’s life or death. He finished the Brandy in his glass and poured himself another. Etiquette demanded he offer the two interlopers a drink as well.
“Maybe when we’re done,” Jackson declined for himself and the General. He then launched into the details of the Stargate program and John’s role in the Pegasus galaxy. He spoke uninterrupted for nearly an hour.
David had tried hard to maintain his stoicism throughout Daniel’s disclosure, but by the time Daniel got to Atlantis, it proved impossible. His posture, almost military in its bearing when they had started, now more closely resembled John’s customary slouch. And his handsome, youthful features had rapidly aged before their eyes. Turning haunted eyes to the two men, he pled, “Why can’t you continue to keep all this a secret?”
“That’s complicated, Mr. Sheppard,” Daniel said. “Um, could I get some coffee?”
“Can I get you anything, General O’Neill?” he asked respectfully, a little in awe of both Jack and Daniel after the recent disclosures.
“Coffee would be good.”
David left the room, more to regain some of his lost composure than to order coffee and sandwiches. He could have easily asked for everything from his office, but had to get away from the accusing eyes of O’Neill and Jackson. He came back into the room, somewhat more prepared to hear the rest of what Doctor Jackson had to say.
By unspoken agreement, the men put aside the rest of the discussion until food and coffee had been delivered and consumed.
“So, now to the complicated part,” Daniel started. “Several months after Colonel Sheppard’s death, his partner, Doctor Rodney McKay disappeared from Atlantis. A short time after that, the SGC received several packages . . .
“. . . Due to the research done by Doctor McKay and your brother in the past, and that will shortly be coming out, the President felt that it would be prudent to let the world in on the Stargate now,” Daniel concluded.
David felt as though he had been dropped into the twilight zone. “Why wasn’t I told this five years ago?” he demanded.
Jack answered, “Need to know, Sheppard. You didn’t need to know. John was dead, both in the present and the past. There was no way to tell you without disclosing the Stargate Program.”
“So why are you telling me this now? It’s still not going to change anything!” he said heatedly.
“We’re telling you this now, Mr. Sheppard because we couldn’t tell you before and we thought you’d be interested in the whole story. John was your brother after all is said and done,” Jack replied.
“I - - I didn’t know that he’d found someone,” David responded brokenly.
And then the other outlandish information suddenly hit him. “Are you seriously saying that my brother John and my, my . . .”
“Your great-great grandfather,” Jack supplied.
“My great-great grandfather, were one and the same person? How can you be sure?”
“DNA. Doctor McKay left hair samples from the both of them among the other things he left,” Daniel explained. “Also, a handwriting analysis on several handwritten documents was done and that was a match for your brother as well.”
Jack removed a large bundle of photographs from his briefcase. “There were also a large number of photographs. Doctor McKay left a set of photos for his sister, a friend, and you.”
Jack handed over the photos. “You realize your family’s fortune is mostly due to Doctor McKay? He and John were in at the bottom floor for every major technological advancement from 1881 until their deaths.”
David flipped through the photos and recognized one. It had once sat in his father’s office and showed two men, a young teenager, and a boy of around eight. David always thought his father kept it because one of the men bore a strong resemblance to John. David gave a short, bitter laugh. He had never questioned who the other man was, assuming it had been some distant, nameless relative.
He quickly scanned through the rest of the photos, in awe that he was looking at his brother, who never got the chance to grow old where he was supposed to. As he saw the years unfold, and the happiness in John’s face, he became angry. The last time David could remember happiness on John’s face, they had both been kids.
He felt tears threaten and he turned his chair around until he could get himself under control. Embarrassed, he turned back around after a few moments.
“How is this possible?” he inquired softly.
“We have no idea, Mr. Sheppard,” Daniel responded just as softly. David Sheppard’s world had been broken since he and Jack rang his doorbell, and they really had nothing in which to rebuild it other than the truth and as much honesty as they were allowed.
“The technology that allowed this to happen hasn’t been well studied. There have been - - other priorities. When Doctor McKay disappeared, he took whatever he knew about it with him.”
“How am I supposed to deal with this?” he asked helplessly.
“The SGC will be giving you and your family protection for as long as it’s determined you need it,” Jack stated. “There is no negotiating that. You may put in place whatever additional security measures you deem necessary.”
“I wasn’t talking about that,” David muttered.
“He knows, Mr. Sheppard. This part of the story isn’t going to be revealed, for obvious reasons. Perhaps knowing will help you come to terms with your relationship with your brother,” Daniel said kindly.
David flushed. He hated that these men knew so much about him and his family.
Daniel extended an envelope to David. “There’s one last thing, Mr. Sheppard. This is the location of John and Rodney’s gravesite. In case you ever want to visit.” Daniel and Jack rose and David escorted them out.
David gave the household staff the rest of the day off. He felt the need to be alone. His wife and daughters had called when they’d gotten to the hotel, shortly before Doctor Jackson and General O’Neill had arrived, and he knew they wouldn’t call again for a few days.
He made his way back to his office, shattered. His whole world had changed in the space of a few hours, and he knew it would never be the same again. He spent the rest of the day and most of the night drinking as he shuffled through the pictures General O’Neill had given him again and again, pausing often to study John’s face, and Dr. McKay, who appeared in every photo.
~0~
When David woke the next morning, he expected a major league hangover, but apparently his continued shock had burned through most of the alcohol he’d consumed. He had a mild headache that was soon relieved by three aspirins, a long hot shower, and a greasy breakfast of bacon, biscuits with butter and four scrambled eggs with cheese.
Knowing he couldn’t go forward until he’d revisited the past, David spent the rest of the morning wandering the house, just letting the memories come. Until their mother’s death when he was seven and John was nine, their home had been a happy one. He and John had been close when they were growing up, at least until their father’s unrealistic expectations had fallen heavily on John’s shoulders.
After that, things had changed. John became sullen and stubborn, his attitude sarcastic and contrary. He argued about everything and went out of his way to live down to their father’s expectations. He got into trouble, drank, brought home both boys and girls, making no secret of the fact that he was having sex with them. David, two years younger had first been confused, and then angry.
When John was sixteen, he had been sent away to military school. He had never stopped being angry with Patrick for sending him away and he had never come home again. He went right from boarding school to the Air Force Academy, against his father’s wishes. Patrick had wanted him to get a business degree from Harvard. And David had become resentful.
Patrick Sheppard had never fully forgiven John and had taken out his disappointment on his younger son. David had had to be perfect in order to make up for John’s desertion. David’s life had been spent trying and failing to please Patrick. It was way past time to put all of this behind him.
Packing a lunch, David spent the rest of the day exploring the far-flung places of the estate. During long summer days, John and David would stuff their backpacks with food and drinks, kept cool with icepacks, and head out for the day, coming home after dark, filthy and happy. They would take their bikes as far as they could, walking the rest of the way. John had always kept his Swiss Army knife, binoculars, string, comics, and a variety of other useful things in his backpack; ready for the adventure he turned each day into.
It was something new everyday, or so it had seemed to David. As he walked, seeking out the hidden spots on the estate, the memories that he had worked hard at forgetting came flooding back. John spun a new tale daily; one day they were cowboys and Indians, the next, Musketeers, and the next, explorers in a new land. They played Buck Rogers and Space Wars and cave men and dinosaurs. They built shelters and pitched tents, building fires in makeshift fire pits. They climbed trees, and dug holes, collecting rocks and catching bugs. They went everywhere their imaginations could take them and John was the director of it all.
David found a clearing where he recalled some epic battles had taken place and that’s where he ate his lunch. When he finished eating, he lay back and watched the clouds, and found himself crying. He was crying for the brother and friend he had lost, and the man he never had the opportunity to know, and he was at long last crying over John’s death.
He wept like a child for all that he had lost, and he wept harder and then raged in helpless regret. Eventually, the storm of weeping slowed and stopped. David slowly made his way back home and made travel arrangements for the next day. That night, he slept like a baby.
~0~
David landed in LaGuardia Airport and went to collect his car. He programmed The Heritage House into the GPS, the only place to stay in Hastings-On-Hudson. Traffic was light at 11:00 AM, and he was approaching Westchester within thirty minutes.
As he approached Hastings-On-Hudson, he tried to visualize it as it must have appeared when John and Rodney lived here. He’d done a little research during the plane ride and he knew that several famous people had called the town home. He could easily picture John here in the late 1800’s, when it must have all been countryside. The John he knew had always lived close to the earth, Pegasus galaxy, notwithstanding.
He had Rodney to thank for whatever information had come down from the past, and for the photos. John, however he had ended up in the past, had apparently been unaware of his life in the future, and had had no memories of a brother named David.
David checked into The Heritage House, typical of every B&B he’d ever stayed in. It was charming; the house was old, and the proprietors were friendly, and he hated it just on principle. He dropped his carry on in the room, washed his face, and left to hunt down lunch.
He ended up at Juniper Restaurant, and ate a truly outstanding bowl of homemade pea soup, served with thick slices of warm honey wheat bread, and a chilled garden salad. He lingered over coffee, and finally got directions to St. Andrews.
He stopped by the florist a few doors down from Juniper’s, and selected two large bouquets. St. Andrews, a five-minute car ride from the restaurant, was located on the outskirts of town. The church was old and sturdy, built to last generations, and it had. The graveyard beside it was small and well tended. It had closed to burials in 1935. It didn’t take long for John to find the two graves.
The graves, side by side, were off to the left, under a large oak tree, with a small bench in front of them. David laid one bouquet of red roses on John’s grave, and the other on Rodney’s.
Taking a seat on the bench he read the headstones. There were no dates of birth for either man, just the month and the year in which they died. Rodney’s read October 1929 and John’s read January 1930.
From the outside looking in, the inscriptions on the headstones would seem odd, but for David they carried a great deal of meaning. Carved on John’s head stone was:
Beloved Father and Companion
John Sheppard
There is no remedy for love but to love more
Rodney’s read:
Beloved Companion
Meredith Rodney McKay
Lose not yourself in a far off time, seize the moment that is thine. . .
In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities
David contemplated the inscriptions, wondering about the man who had crossed time itself to be with his brother. He had spent so long being angry at John that he couldn’t imagine anyone giving up everything to make a life with the man he had considered selfish and self-centered.
He tried to imagine making the same choice - - and couldn’t. He loved his wife, but he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t give up everything he knew for her. It made him wonder what kind of man John had turned out to be.
Lost in his thoughts, David didn’t notice the woman approaching the gravesite until she placed a bouquet of daisies at John’s grave, and another at Rodney’s. She sat down next to him.
“I’m Jeannie Miller, Meredith’s sister. I’m guessing you’re John’s brother,” she said, knowing exactly who David was. She had received the call from Daniel shortly after David had made his travel arrangements.
David turned slightly to shake her hand. “David Sheppard.”
Jeannie studied the headstones, much as he did, sighing every now and then. She visited here twice a year, and missed Meredith more each time. “You can’t imagine how happy it makes me to know that my brother got to spend his life with John.”
“What kind of man was he?”
“Meredith? He was brilliant, petty, arrogant, thoughtless, and he didn’t have one social grace to his name. He was also selfless, and brave beyond anything I ever imagined,” she said with pride. Thanks to Jack O’Neill, she knew every single thing her brother had done, both on Atlantis and in the past. “What would you call a man who crossed 130 years of time to be with the man he loved?”
“I have no idea,” David chuckled. “It’s not something one usually thinks about, is it?”
“No, I guess it isn’t,” she laughed.
“Did you know John?” David inquired.
“I did. They always came to visit for a few days when they got home.”
“What - - what was he like?” David asked softly.
“John wasn’t an easy man to know. He was a hero to the men he led, and to people all over the Pegasus galaxy. He took his responsibilities very seriously and he had an offbeat sense of humor. He was extremely intelligent, but tried to hide it for some reason,” she shared.
She paused to gather her thoughts. “John had a huge wall around him, but once you were in, you were in. I always thought he was - - damaged, and hurt by life. But if he loved you, he loved you with his whole being. The people he called family and the men he led would’ve gone to hell and back for him.”
“Did John love your brother?”
“John and Meredith loved each other so much that I was sometimes jealous. It was. . . a quiet love; there was never anything overt in their behavior, but I’ve never met two more married people. I know it sounds corny, but they complimented and completed each other,” she smiled in reminiscence.
“That’s good to know,” David choked out. It hurt David that John had to seek out a family elsewhere. He wished he could have five minutes with John. Five minutes to let him know that he loved him too. David would have to live with the weight of regret for the rest of his life. “Do you think that’s why Rod. . . . um, Meredith decided to stay in the past?”
“If my brother had stayed here, he would have been one of the most celebrated scientists to have ever lived. But after John died, he was broken,” Jeannie recalled. “He did the only thing that could fix him. He somehow found John.”
“Thank you, Jeannie. John and I were, ah - - estranged.”
She acknowledged his comment with a slight head nod, turning to stare at the headstones. They sat in silence for the next thirty minutes, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
Jeannie suddenly laughed. “I guess this means we’re related in some weird, twisted way.”
David jumped on her statement, not knowing what else to say. “I guess we are. In a twilight zone sort of way,” he agreed. “Would you mind if I called you every now and then to talk about John and your brother?”
“No, not at all. I know we’re allowed to tell our spouses, but I don’t think my husband could understand how I feel. He and my brother didn’t have the best relationship. It would be - - good to talk to someone who did understand.” she confessed.
David now asked the question that he couldn’t have asked one other person on the planet. “Would you have done it? What your brother did?”
Jeannie hesitated. Had someone asked her using the same situation as a hypothetical, she would have said yes immediately. But, with this man the situation wasn’t hypothetical. “I - - I don’t know,” she said, falling silent once again.
They sat for a while longer, two strangers thrown together by circumstance, thinking about the choice Rodney had made, and wondering about a love that was able to transcend death itself.
The End
Quotes by Henry David Thoreau, Friedrich Schiller, and Janos Arany.