Work Text:
Finding Your Path in Life
by victoriaely
Major Lorne was in the gate room, waiting for his team members to join him: Lieutenant Carol Andrews, Dr Marks and Dr Beckett. The SGC decided that all personnel stationed at Cheyenne Mountain should go off world, at least once. Today was the two doctor's turn. Lorne saw the young lieutenant accompanying a tall, dark haired man and a small blonde woman. The woman was walking one step behind the other two, looking as if they were about to give her to the Goua'uld.
"Hullo." The man looked at him and introduced himself. "My name's Carson Beckett." He then looked behind him at the small woman and gently took her hand. "This is Dr Martha Marks."
Lorne shook the doctor's hand and nodded to Sergeant Siler, who began the dialing sequence.
"I can't go through that thing, Dr Beckett," Marks said, clutching the doctor's sleeve without realising it. "It's insanity."
"Aye, it is." The doctor sighed deeply, looking at Lorne. It was obvious that the man was afraid of it, but unlike the little woman's fear, his seemed to be a bit more rational. A bit.
"So, doc, what's your specialty?" Lorne asked, trying to loosen the atmosphere.
"I'm sorry?"
"You're a doctor of..."
"Medicine," came the man's soft reply.
Lorne suddenly understood the man's worries. He watched amused how Andrews almost dragged Marks through the event horizon. As Beckett was about to step through, eyes clenched, Lorne whispered, "You'll be able to fix us if something goes wrong."
As soon as he got to the other side, Lorne looked for his team members. Beckett was by the DHD, glaring at him. He responded with a grin and gestured to the path that started from the stargate. "If we leave now, we'll get to the camp by nightfall."
Andrews went first, closely followed by Marks. Beckett was a few steps behind them and Lorne hurried to catch up with him, after reporting to the SGC that everything was okay.
"So, doc, do you think you'll be a part of the off-world teams?"
"Not if I have a say in it." The doctor was obviously upset.
"I'm sorry if I upset you, it was just a joke," Lorne said defensively.
"Aye, just a joke. How would it be if a doctor started to joke like that before taking you to surgery?" The doctor increased his pace, leaving Lorne a few steps behind. The Major took it as the man's way of saying he didn't want to talk and respected his wish.
An hour later, they reached the camp, which for the time being consisted of four big crates in a clearing. Lorne opened one of them and took out two tents. He looked at Beckett who started helping him to set them up.
Andrew and Marks took out the MREs and started preparing their dinner.
Lorne studied the Scottish doctor. He was working quietly and effectively and in ten minutes had one of the tents set up.
"Marks and Andrews will take this one," Lorne said, gesturing towards the tent he head been setting up, "and you and I will take that one."
"Aye." The Scot took a notepad from his backpack and started writing down something. After a few minutes, he started moving around the clearing, studying the plants and insects. There was something about his posture, his way of reacting to the noises coming from the group that showed he was upset.
Andrews called for him and he joined them, silently eating his dinner. He carefully took his things, put them in his backpack and went inside the tent.
"Is he your boss?" Lorne asked the small doctor.
"No. Not as far as the SGC goes, but he's one of the surgeons and he knows more botany than we know medicine, so..." Lorne looked at her, not understanding. "If he'll tell me to do something, I'll do it, even if he's not my boss."
They continued chatting for a while, all of them regretting that the Scot wasn't joining them. Just when Lorne and Andrews were setting up the watches, Beckett came by the fire, said "Good night" and went back to his tent.
Lorne took the first watch and when he went to the tent to sleep four hours later, Beckett was sound asleep. In the morning, Lorne woke up and gently touched the doctor's shoulder, waking him up.
Beckett didn't say anything all morning and the trip back to the gate was a silent one for everybody.
The debriefing was fast and before Lorne could find him to say anything, Beckett had left the mountain compound.
Few hours later, holding a piece of paper with Beckett's address on it, Lorne left the mountain complex, determined to fix the mess an innocent joke got him into. The doctor didn't seem to be one of the proud scientists that didn't want anything to do with the others.
The small block of flats was overlooking one of the biggest parks in town and the area was a very quiet one. Lorne entered the building and got up on the stairs to the third floor. He stopped in front of the number seven door and softly knocked.
After a few seconds, the door opened and the doctor was in the door frame, looking at him slightly puzzled.
"Is anything wrong at the SGC?"
"No, I just wanted to talk."
Beckett took a step back and invited him in. The flat wasn't big, but it seemed very comfortable. In the living room, Lorne could see a coffee table, two armchairs and a lot of books and magazines on the floor. One of the walls had a rather strange looking blue painting on it. He sat down in one of the armchairs and patiently waited for the doctor. He heard him asking from the kitchen, "Whiskey or beer?"
"I'm driving."
"Aye. Tea?" A loud thud echoed from the adjacent room and the Scot added, "There's no more coffee."
"A glass of water would be fine."
Beckett came a few moments later, holding a glass of water and one of whiskey. He put the glasses on the table and sat in the other armchair.
"About what happened yesterday... "Lorne started, a little nervous. "I was just joking. Honestly. I didn't mean to upset you."
The man sighed softly and for the first time, Lorne really looked at him. He had blue eyes, deep blue eyes and ruffled hair. He wore a tight blue shirt and black trouser and was barefoot. He leaned forward to read the writing on his shirt, but stopped himself. Unfortunately for him, the doctor spotted his movement and asked, "Is there anything you need?"
"No, I was... trying to read what's written on your shirt."
Carson smiled, a little surprised. "My friends in Scotland gave me this, before I came to the US. It reads 'Remember my name, you'll be screaming it later'. They thought it's appropriate."
Lorne laughed, genuinely amused. That was a nice goodbye present. Beckett slowly rose from the armchair and turned around, presenting his back. In big bold letter, he could read one word "Genius". The doctor sat down, facing Lorne again. "Our uni teachers used to tease us, giving each one a nickname. Mine was... genius. They said I found solutions that no one thought about. Once, I did something. Don't remember what, but it was quite unusual, and they knew it was me immediately. I was with a patient and when I heard my teacher scream 'Genius!' I took off to fix it. I think all bloody Glasgow knew it from that day on."
Lorne smiled. "It must have been hard to leave your home and come here."
"Aye, it was. But the hardest thing was getting used to the people here. I don't think I ever did get used to it. I've become anti-social." He took a sip of whiskey and stared at the coffee table.
"I realise we're not the nicest guys in the world, but -"
"I'm sure you'd be great if you were ordered to act human around us civilians." The re was so much sadness and bitterness in the man's word, that Lorne couldn't take them as an insult.
"Listen, we're... different. We were educated to be less..." Beckett shot him a menacing look, and he decided it was safer not to continue the sentence. "You have your advantages."
"Aye, but we choose not to use them. We're not in a bloody fight. We're not trying to prove ourselves. I didn't plan to act like a stubborn five year old, but I was sick of being patronized by the military. I'm just...." He waved his hand dismissively and took another drink.
"I've heard the banter that goes on between scientists and it's sharper than anything I've heard said by -"
"You don't understand. I have no problem if you tell me that I'm dumb, but if you mock me for not wanting to shoot a gun or go through the stargate... it hurts."
Lorne bowed his head, understanding setting in. The civilians were forced into a military world. No matter how much liberty they were given, they were still under military command, forced to live by their rules.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Yesterday was... the last straw."
"Do you miss home?"
"It's not my home that I miss, Major, it's my friends."
"Marcus," Lorne said, looking in the other man's eyes, who rose and reached out his right hand. "Carson." They shook hands for a moment and Carson said, "Would you like to come over for a drink some day?"
"I'm already here."
"You're not driving anymore?"
"Nah," settling in more comfortably in the armchair, he added, "I could sleep right here."
"I have a guest room, you know. It has a bed."
Lorne closed his eyes and drank a bit of whiskey. It was quite some time since he last drank alcohol and Carson's whiskey was quite strong.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. It's been a while since I..."
"Relaxed?"
Marcus smiled, opening his eyes to look at the man. He was in the kitchen, with his back to the door and he could distinctly see "genius" written on his shirt. Carson Beckett was one hell of a man.
end