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Running again. John looked down at the duffel bag on the seat beside him. Enough cash to start over. Anywhere he wanted to.
Truth be told, he hadn't run from his past in years. Never did any good. So, he'd stuck with getting his detective license despite a couple of failures. He'd stuck with pursuing this latest crime, and he had it figured out—minus the alien aspect.
Then there was his less-than-voluntary intro to Dr. Rodney McKay. Yeah, what he offered, John wasn't ready for. So running seemed a good response.
Damn it. His brain couldn't let a puzzle go, and when John saw the power lines and the silver trailer, his brain put the pieces together without even thinking about it. He should keep running. He should, but his gut wouldn't let him. Fuck.
He pulled the car into a one-eighty, not wasting time thinking about McKay's warning not to engage. He'd engage the hell out of that alien fucker if that's what it took.
And he had.
Not to gloss over details, but as John stumbled away from the car, he'd admit his future looked…short. But the good guys had taken out the bad guy, and he'd helped. It was enough. Hell, it was better than most people got a chance to do.
With his blood seeping into the sand, he lay down and gazed up at the sky. He'd stopped running. That was a good thing, wasn't it? Yeah. Running away sucked anyway.
He licked his dry, chapped lips and watched as a medical chopper came into view. Huh. McKay had come through for him. John hadn't expected that.
When he woke up, he wasn't in the local hospital. Or the morgue, so that was a plus. John ran a hand over his torso. No bullet wounds. Some tender skin where they should have been, but his injuries were gone.
He dropped his head onto his pillow. Crap. More freaky, alien shit. McKay had done something. He knew it because there was a pack of unopened spearmint gum on the bedside table.
When McKay walked into the room, the less said about their meeting, the better. The ballsy-ass dickhead took plenty of credit for saving John's life. Waxed on about alien tech while John tried not to show how creeped out it made him feel.
He'd burned a lot of bridges before winding up here. Made him actually consider the deal McKay was offering. Besides, the way John figured it, the guy needed someone to watch his back. That snarky attitude of his wasn't earning him any brownie points. Plus, the kind of commitment McKay was talking about was as far away from running as a person could get.
Now, standing in front of the thing called a Stargate, John bit back a laugh. The furthest thing from running away was four steps forward.
Rodney, and yes, it was Rodney now, stood beside him. "Ready to meet the rest of our team, Sheppard?"
Weirdly, John's answer was yes.