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"Long Road Home" vignette
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atlantis_fan requested a post-Long Road Home vignette. I mulled over an idea while lying in bed this morning, and when I got up, this is what I wrote. It's a little bit cute and a little bit sad.
The sheep were Teyla's idea.
John's savings were starting to run low, and of all of them -- Teyla, Ronon, Melena and their two kids -- he was the only one who could legally work. Rodney didn't count, since he was only occasionally there.
Teyla had been trying to talk him into sheep for over a year. The ranch was already set up to raise animals; they'd hardly have to do anything. She said that the sheep would feed themselves on the grass in the high pastures, and then she and Melena could spin the wool into cloth to sell to tourists.
John had waved a hand at the rocks. "What tourists? There aren't any within a hundred miles of here."
"Your country is full of tourists. They must be somewhere."
Ultimately he figured it would probably come to nothing, but Teyla had talked Ronon and Melena around to her side, and he figured that going along with it was the path of least resistance. Besides, when he thought about it, he started thinking it sounded like fun. He'd never really been anywhere near a farm as a kid. Now he owned one. Teyla and Melena kept a vegetable garden, and they had a couple of cats -- strays that Rodney had picked up in D.C. and brought back with him -- but otherwise, they probably did need some more livestock to give the place that suitable Texan ambiance.
Like most simple ideas, it turned out to be complicated. The ancient fencing around the pastures was sagging and falling down. He and Ronon and Teyla spent countless hours replacing and repairing fence posts in the scorching sun, re-stringing rusty barbed wire and trying not to pick up tetanus. Then John got a couple of books on animal husbandry and discovered how many things could kill sheep.
"Damn things die if you look at 'em funny!"
Teyla leaned over his shoulder, reading. She had picked up written English as if born to it; the only thing that still seemed to give her trouble was the occasional spoken contraction. "Only your American sheep," she informed him proudly. "In my village, the flocks lived off the land for months at a time. They were only rounded up to be sheared. They did not need your antibiotics and vaccinations and special feed supplements and such."
"Yes, but American sheep is what we're going to have to get."
It also turned out that no one for hundreds of miles around them raised sheep. There seemed to be quite a few cattle ranches, but sheep? Not so much. John ended up having to drive to the city to find someone who could sell him a few lambs.
Still, it was worth it for the look on Teyla's face when he and Ronon showed up with a dozen feces-smeared lambs huddled in the back of the truck.
Half of them died immediately, largely through their caretakers' inexperience. They lost one to coyotes, two in a rainstorm when the flock became separated, one that escaped through a hole in the fence and was never seen again, and so forth. But the others thrived, and John discovered that he really liked this.
Sitting on a sun-warmed rock overlooking the pasture and watching the half-grown animals graze, he wondered what Rodney would have to say about it the next time he showed up. Rodney could never seem to resist the lure of D.C. and whatever it was he did for the government there. He'd vanish for months and eventually turn up back at the ranch, broken in ways John could never quite pin down. Then he'd stay until his eyes started to lose that lost look, and he'd be gone again.
It had been almost a year this time, John realized, the longest he'd ever been gone. If he didn't show up soon, it might be necessary to go up to D.C. and drag him down here. When Rodney stayed away for a long time, it was like he lost a little bit of whatever made him Rodney -- the quick humor, the flashes of compassion that showed when you expected them least. He rebounded slowly while staying at the ranch, but a little more slowly every time he came.
It was time to get him back.
John wandered back to the house. There were a stack of postcards propped on a windowsill that Melena had picked up in town. None of them had anyone to write to, but she had liked the pictures. There weren't any with sheep, so John picked out one that showed a rolling landscape of red hills, and, on the back, scribbled down the address of the mail drop that Rodney had given them in D.C.
He didn't write much. There was no need. "R- Got sheep? J." Rodney could never resist a puzzle.
atlantis_fan requested a post-Long Road Home vignette. I mulled over an idea while lying in bed this morning, and when I got up, this is what I wrote. It's a little bit cute and a little bit sad.The sheep were Teyla's idea.
John's savings were starting to run low, and of all of them -- Teyla, Ronon, Melena and their two kids -- he was the only one who could legally work. Rodney didn't count, since he was only occasionally there.
Teyla had been trying to talk him into sheep for over a year. The ranch was already set up to raise animals; they'd hardly have to do anything. She said that the sheep would feed themselves on the grass in the high pastures, and then she and Melena could spin the wool into cloth to sell to tourists.
John had waved a hand at the rocks. "What tourists? There aren't any within a hundred miles of here."
"Your country is full of tourists. They must be somewhere."
Ultimately he figured it would probably come to nothing, but Teyla had talked Ronon and Melena around to her side, and he figured that going along with it was the path of least resistance. Besides, when he thought about it, he started thinking it sounded like fun. He'd never really been anywhere near a farm as a kid. Now he owned one. Teyla and Melena kept a vegetable garden, and they had a couple of cats -- strays that Rodney had picked up in D.C. and brought back with him -- but otherwise, they probably did need some more livestock to give the place that suitable Texan ambiance.
Like most simple ideas, it turned out to be complicated. The ancient fencing around the pastures was sagging and falling down. He and Ronon and Teyla spent countless hours replacing and repairing fence posts in the scorching sun, re-stringing rusty barbed wire and trying not to pick up tetanus. Then John got a couple of books on animal husbandry and discovered how many things could kill sheep.
"Damn things die if you look at 'em funny!"
Teyla leaned over his shoulder, reading. She had picked up written English as if born to it; the only thing that still seemed to give her trouble was the occasional spoken contraction. "Only your American sheep," she informed him proudly. "In my village, the flocks lived off the land for months at a time. They were only rounded up to be sheared. They did not need your antibiotics and vaccinations and special feed supplements and such."
"Yes, but American sheep is what we're going to have to get."
It also turned out that no one for hundreds of miles around them raised sheep. There seemed to be quite a few cattle ranches, but sheep? Not so much. John ended up having to drive to the city to find someone who could sell him a few lambs.
Still, it was worth it for the look on Teyla's face when he and Ronon showed up with a dozen feces-smeared lambs huddled in the back of the truck.
Half of them died immediately, largely through their caretakers' inexperience. They lost one to coyotes, two in a rainstorm when the flock became separated, one that escaped through a hole in the fence and was never seen again, and so forth. But the others thrived, and John discovered that he really liked this.
Sitting on a sun-warmed rock overlooking the pasture and watching the half-grown animals graze, he wondered what Rodney would have to say about it the next time he showed up. Rodney could never seem to resist the lure of D.C. and whatever it was he did for the government there. He'd vanish for months and eventually turn up back at the ranch, broken in ways John could never quite pin down. Then he'd stay until his eyes started to lose that lost look, and he'd be gone again.
It had been almost a year this time, John realized, the longest he'd ever been gone. If he didn't show up soon, it might be necessary to go up to D.C. and drag him down here. When Rodney stayed away for a long time, it was like he lost a little bit of whatever made him Rodney -- the quick humor, the flashes of compassion that showed when you expected them least. He rebounded slowly while staying at the ranch, but a little more slowly every time he came.
It was time to get him back.
John wandered back to the house. There were a stack of postcards propped on a windowsill that Melena had picked up in town. None of them had anyone to write to, but she had liked the pictures. There weren't any with sheep, so John picked out one that showed a rolling landscape of red hills, and, on the back, scribbled down the address of the mail drop that Rodney had given them in D.C.
He didn't write much. There was no need. "R- Got sheep? J." Rodney could never resist a puzzle.
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He's going to make it back to the Ranch and be okay right?
And and do the sheep work out??
And can you tell I want more? *snicker*
Seriouly though this works wonderfully as a snippet from the AU and I like it as it is and you don't need to add more ...
yeah...
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*laughs* I've got everybody worried about poor Rodney! I guess the idea that I was working with here is that he can't give up the lure of science (I mean, really, can you see Rodney being happy on a farm?) and the government keeps dangling large sums of money and private labs and cutting-edge technology in front of him -- but what they have him doing, when he's working for them, is building WMDs and the like. And he has major, major problems with the ethics of it. John, of course, doesn't know all the details.
That's the backstory.
Now what they have to do is get him to STOP.
And I kinda want to write more too ... I just love the idea of all of them living on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.
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And I kinda want to write more too ... I just love the idea of all of them living on a ranch in the middle of nowhere.
Please!!!! and I'm sure there's a university somewhere nearby that's in need of someone with Rodney's knowlage! *nods*
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And another part of the problem is that, being Rodney, he won't ask for help or tell them what's going on.
Now I've got myself feeling sorry for the poor guy....
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Seriously though I think you have the perfect set up here for it being fixed (or at least starting too) - he's been gone the longest he's ever been and they might need to go get him so I can see this being the turning point. And he doesn't have to tell them everything - they can just figure out that what ever he's doing needs to stop... or something...
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Okay. It's Monday. I'm feeling demanding (blame the job - I got in to about a half dozen demanding emails). More! I want more! LOL!
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See my answer above as to where Rodney goes when he's not on the ranch and why it depresses him so badly.
Ultimately he's going to have to give it up because it's destroying him, but he's come to see it as an either/or choice (between doing science for the government vs. not doing it at all) without considering possible compromises, such as working for a university or the like ... and damn it, now I want to write this!
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I'll just call you Dorothy Parker from now on. You know, you could always...oh my God...I'm watching the 11:00 news and there's a fire at my old high school! Sure, I haven't been back there in fourteen years, but still! Holy crap! This is surreal...
Heh. Sorry. Back now. To be honest, the school was built in the 70s, in the "big gray blocks 'o cement are beautiful" era (the poor man's marble? My ass), and could use an upgrade. Still, sorta sad.
What was I talking about?
OH! yes, the story! (You're not supposed to be watching TV and commenting at the same time are you?). I was just going to say, you could always write it in bibs and bobs. A little bit here, a little bit there...never quite formulating a full story. I wonder how it would turn out?
Oh, I'm just so distracted. It's also snowing. It's snowing and there's a fire. And I'm totally digressing and should stop writing now.
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You know, I was pretty satisfied with the ending of "Long Road Home" but know that you've written more I want more. That's not fair.. *G*
But seriously, wonderful snippet, even if there won't be more.
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I didn't mean to tantalize people quite so badly when I wrote this, although I realize I've gone and tantalized *myself* now too ... because I'm curious about what happens next, as well.
I guess the whole point of the exercise was to make me start writing again, and it worked!
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but it's RODNEY! You can't have him be hurting and expect people take it without wanting him to be all better!!!!! *sniffles* ;o)
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You know, even though I hate the characterization of Victim!Rodney (I mean, not as he is here, but as a big wobbly pile of woe the way he's sometimes written) I can sort of see where it comes from, because there is something so irresistible -- to me at least -- about Rodney when he's hurting. You just want so desperately to make him better...
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You just want so desperately to make him better...
Oh yes... and sometimes John makes me feel the same way too.
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There's something just so vulnerable about Rodney, it's hard to keep the snark there sometimes!!
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And also a lot of my feelings about angst and when it's to much comes from past experences in other fandoms and basically being burned out by all the angst - so I'm a bit more sensitive to it than most I figure. So I don't think I'm all that objective about how much angst is to much.
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(Anonymous) 2007-01-23 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
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You will keep us posted, right? And I hope you don't mind that I've friended you (sounds so creepy & stalkerish!) so I can keep up with updates. And watch you from the bushes... ;)
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More, more, more
And as a writer, I should know better than to plead...but I'm doing it anyway!!!
Re: More, more, more
And thanks! :)
Re: More, more, more
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(By the way, you grew up in rural Alaska? That's awesome. And it explains why you love wilderness and you're so good at describing landscapes.)
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... and yes, rural Alaska; I love writing about lonely rural places, and the landscapes in some of my stories are drawn from places I've been.
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John does know how to lure Rodney back - for Rodney's own sake, of course.
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(re-read The Long Road Home today while our internet connection was down and enjoyed it all over again... glad that I'd saved it to my hard drive favorites... and glad that they all found each other... and that John is still kick ass dangerous) =)
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Thank you for this ficlet! :)
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