Chapter Text
John wasn’t an actual part of the chain of command. It wasn’t legal or possible, actually.
The only reason they’d risked sending him to another galaxy at all, was because of his genes and background with black ops speaking to what skills he had to take care of himself, and others.
There was a reason that John wasn’t an actual part of the chain of command, though. It wasn’t a bad mark in his files, it wasn’t a punishment. It just wasn’t moral to put a Pet in charge of others.
John was born to take commands. And he took them well. He was able to think for himself and keep a job like this, but that was because he had a well balanced routine to follow, a rule that had been set for him by his father as a child, and he knew how to take orders from others. He had a well balanced life, even in the middle of chaos, because he only entered that chaos upon the command of others. He was lucky. Some Pets needed stricter commands to follow, they needed even their daily routine dictated so they could thrive. The detail oriented orders were more important to them than the structure John had let his family build for him. John was lucky, because he had a mindset where he had standing orders at all times already.
Now, this doesn’t mean that anyone could command him, or that he wasn’t affected by the chain of command, he simply wasn’t a part of it.
He was allowed the freedom of expression. He could give his thoughts and ideas on their actions, he could make suggestions and base those on facts, but he was not allowed to make it an order. He wasn’t inclined to make it an order, either. It went against his nature to give orders in that way. He was fond of his ability to express himself, since it was actually more than most other military members got. It wasn’t legal to silence a Pet, since it was often their only line of defense, with the absence of orders.
John could take orders from his commanding officers, and if he had been in the chain of command, he would be a Major now, which is something they kept track of, if only because it was suggested that he take any orders from those below his rank as suggestions, more than actual orders, in case experience outranks that order.
Once more; he had the right to state his points on why he couldn’t or wouldn’t accept bad orders, even if it went against his nature to do so.
The one time he’d ignored orders in such a way to put a black mark on his file, was the reason that Sumner gave him a side eye of annoyance when McKay and Weir had demanded John be included in the expedition.
McKay was a little loud, and annoying, but he made John’s shoulders relax. He was naturally domineering, and John had perfected his coffee order within two cups. He liked chocolate donuts, he would loudly tell you if he didn’t like something, or was allergic, and he let John be his lab Pet whenever he wasn’t demanding John go through more tests with The Chair.
He let John kneel at his side -had even demanded that someone bring John the good knee pads when he realized the man liked it down there- and would occasionally pet through John’s permanently messy hair. Some people preferred to ignore him for the most part when he wasn’t taking orders, and John had always found those types to be a bit ignorant to the ways of Pets and their needs. They weren’t just order takers, they were natural subs and wanted attention just like any other human.
Even actual animal pets wanted your attention and love. And Rodney gave John attention, he was just also a busy man, so the rate of attention he gave John was actually high, for the amount of time he remembered any of them existed.
Rodney had turned to John when Sumner had agreed to let John on the expedition, -with little enough fight that John suspected he was actually more annoyed with Rodney than John- and declared that they needed to get an updated tag for his dog tags, that all the expedition members had new ones.
John fingered the D ring on his collar as he followed Rodney down the halls to a lab with Major Carter in it, gently tugging on it to feel the pressure against the back of his neck. He didn’t keep his dog tags on his collar, but it made him think about what it would be like to have a tag there one day.
General O’Neill’s pet had a tag on his collar. Doctor Jackson was classified as a Brat, not a pet, so he had more fight in him than John did, more of a need to rebel against orders, but a collar soothed him the same way it did Pets and Slaves. John rather thought Jackson was a Little as well, but both Pets and Brats could have a Little subset to them.
But he had a tag on his collar, it was in a soft rose gold, and it said Daniel on the front, and there was an engraved point of origin symbol with a small diamond as the dot in the corner of the flower shaped tag. He also had a smaller tag that he kept on his dog tag chain, so John suspected he lost another Handler at some point. Daniel’s collar was thinner than his, lower on his neck as well, and looked more elegant on the Brat than John’s collar ever did. John liked how thick both the width and the leather of his collar was. It was comforting.
Rodney was chattering away with Carter at the engraving machine that John didn’t know why they had, so John went over to talk to Daniel.
“Hello, Doctor Jackson.”
Daniel looked up at him from the book he’d been reading faster than most people could, and smiled softly. “You can call me Daniel. Can I call you John?”
Submissives were naturally less formal with each other. It was an understanding that they had a freedom of speech with each other that they didn’t get from Handlers. Handlers were supposed to give orders, but they could also take them from other handlers. Subs just didn’t give orders, and it led to a different speech pattern with each other than Handlers had together.
“You may. May I ask what’s on the back of your collar tag?” It was the type of question that Handlers and Neutrals might see as invasive, asking too much too soon for someone you didn’t know very well. John knew that Daniel wouldn’t take offense to it, even if he declined to show John.
Daniel smiled even more, reaching up to softly finger his marriage tag, and leaned in just a little to give John a better view as he flipped it over. “It’s what Baba calls me when I’m small.”
In what looked like handwritten cursive, was ‘Space Monkey’. There was a small engraved image of a little monkey near it, and John smiled at how cute it seemed on the jeweler’s grade tag. “It’s very beautiful. The rose gold looks good against your skin.”
John wouldn’t compliment a Handler’s jewelry unless asked to, or necessary for them to hear. For some reason, Handlers and Neutrals saw that sort of thing to either be flirtatious, or simply odd to come from a man. Women normally did that sort of thing, when it came to Handlers and Neutrals.
Daniel’s smile was so proud and bashful all at the same time, and John was so happy that he’d made the Brat feel that way. That was one thing that Subs did, they liked to make each other feel good about what they did for others, or the gifts they got for being good.
Having their Handlers tag on his collar was a great honor for any Sub.
“I hope to have a tag on my collar one day. It seems peaceful.”
Daniel gave him a gentle squeeze to his shoulder, looking pleased. “It’s very peaceful. I hope you get a tag one day as well.”
They turned to watch Rodney and Carter argue at the engraving machine, before Daniel snorted and rolled his eyes at them. “Would you like to see our collection of Ancient relics? None of them light up like the chair in Antarctica, but it would be a good representation of what you might come into contact with wherever you all land. I can also give you some guides on the language so you can learn it sooner.”
John nodded, but glanced over at Rodney, not in nervousness, but an indication that he was under the scientist's care at the moment. He was supposed to be at Rodney’s side, mostly acting as his aid and light switch for now. Daniel nodded, speaking up a bit. “Sam? McKay? May I take John with me to artifact storage?”
Sam turned to look at them carefully. Daniel was a Brat, so Jack preferred if someone watched over him most of the time, but he got alone time when he was in work mode. For a Sub, he could get very ingrained in his work, often losing track of time. At those times, Jack would have to coax him down to subspace to get him back in line with what his biology said he needed. Daniel wasn’t the type of Sub that would service Jack in his natural subspace, but he’d fall into littlespace pretty easy if he allowed himself to. Bratting was more for when he was bigger, and wanted his way on missions.
Or bored in the mountain. He could brat off pretty easily when he was left alone in the mountain without something to do or someone to entertain him.
But bringing another Sub to go show Ancient artifacts to would keep him busy, entertained, and unlikely to cause chaos. She looked at Rodney, still surprised at times that the man was an actual Handler and somehow she was Neutral. Rodney was giving John that same searching look she’d been giving Daniel, but a bit more nervous somehow.
“Danny won’t let anything bad happen to John.”
Rodney snorted, nodding. “If you feel the need to come back, you do so. You’re under my care, John.”
John felt a warmth in his chest that he’d never quite felt before. Handlers usually didn’t keep this type of hold on him. Not since Nancy, and she hadn’t exactly been a good Handler in the end. She hadn’t even tagged his collar, by the time he left her. Normally, as a military Sub, his current Handler was always subject to change. If they were busy, they handed him over to someone else. It’s not like there weren’t a plethora of other Handlers in a military base to hand a Sub to. Or if they wanted to keep control of him, like Rodney clearly did, they would just order him to stay at their side, and ignore his wish to do something else.
Honestly, John had expected him to say they needed a Handler to accompany them so John would have someone to go to, or someone just to keep an eye on them. But Rodney just let him go, no babysitter, and told him to come back if he feels like he needs Rodney.
It’s not like he’s never been left to his own devices before, but this just feels so different from military protocol, and it made his heart flutter. He smiled at the Handler, nodding. “Thank you, Rodney.”
Rodney nodded back, sighing a little. “If you two aren’t back in an hour, I’ll come find you.”
When Daniel led him off, John was still thinking it over. “It’s like I’m watching myself in reverse.”
John looked to the other Sub and hummed in question. “How so?”
Daniel shrugged. “When Baba first became my Handler, we weren’t together yet. Not for a few years, actually. But he’s military, and I’m not, so for the first year or so, he’d hand me off to babysitters all the time. I’m sure you’ve had that, that a Handler should accompany you at all times? Never really feeling like you belong to one specific person because you’re always being babysat by someone new?”
John’s eyes felt hot, and he tried to remind himself that holding back tears wasn’t supposed to be good for him. He could rarely bring himself to cry outside of scenes, but the psychologists always told him that he held himself back from showing emotion so much that it hurt him. Like, that it physically was hurting him, because of his biology. He tightened his lip, not letting much emotion show, but Daniel seemed to read him well.
“I… that was… no one’s ever done that before. He isn’t ordering me to stay by his side, but he’s trusting me to go off without a Handler… it feels strange. I’ve only had one long term Handler before, and she didn’t let me leave her side without another Handler watching me, since she hadn’t tagged my collar yet.” It never worked out with her, because Nancy wanted a stay-at-home-Sub who was detail oriented. John’s father had finally relented and suggested they break things off, that his son simply wasn’t a match for her, and John go back into the service instead of resigning. Even his father knew that John couldn’t handle the life they had there, and he wasn’t a good man.
Daniel nodded. “When I first came here, it felt like I was constantly being told I wasn’t trusted. It felt like they were saying Subs aren’t capable of being alone. Turns out, the military is just really cautious about any of us having possible drops, or getting mixed up in the whirl of things and suddenly you don’t have a Handler with you at all, and no one thought to assign you a new one. I bet it’s just as scary suddenly being trusted to come back to Rodney on your own, instead of being dragged back.”
John considered that for a long few moments, before slowly nodding. “Yes. It never felt wrong before, because they were always just making sure I was safe and had someone to immediately take care of me. It doesn’t feel unsafe now? I can just… go find him… I always assumed I would feel immediately uncomfortable being ‘let off leash’ so to speak, for something other than a mission or alone time in my quarters. But it made me feel taken care of, how he put it.”
Daniel reached over and gave his opposite shoulder a squeeze, leading him towards his office so they could grab an Ancient translation guide before going to Artifact Storage. “It feels nice, knowing you have one person just for you. Maybe on a new base, you’ll have multiple people, but it won’t be like being passed around, so much as always having a choice of people. Sam is Neutral and Teal’c comes from a culture without dynamics like this, but I can still choose them, and Baba won’t be upset. I could choose a few different people on base here that are Handlers, and a couple who aren’t. Hammond used to let me stay in his office with him when I was little. None of them but Baba are my Handler, but it’s nice to have choices.”
John hoped that would be how things turned out. It would be wonderful to just… choose his own Handlers. Not everyone got that luxury in life, and John had never had the options before, but he might be able to make that choice. His heart fluttered a little more in excitement.
***
John was a bit sad to say goodbye to Daniel, mostly because he’d turned out to be a nice friend. He also had gotten John in timeout twice, so John should be happy to leave him, but those timeouts hadn’t made him like Daniel any less. The opposite, really.
John was a bit of a chronic rule follower when he wasn’t using his judgement in the field for snap decisions, and he liked Rodney’s amusement when he had put John on what Daniel had whiningly called ‘the stupid naughty step’ in Carter's office those two times. John wasn’t always a good boy, he tended to aim his own little chaos at his downtime and kept it off-base. Which he guessed he was going to have to get used to, because there might not be off-base time in his new base.
He might have times when he’s in trouble in front of people he works with. He could even end up being taken to task by random Handlers as long as they were military. At the very least, he had the right to say no to civilian Handlers punishing him, but that wouldn’t stop them from finding a military Handler to do something. But that’s what he’d chosen to do with his life.
He wasn’t the only Sub going on the Atlantis mission, but he was one of only three military Subs. He’d known Evan because the puppy Pet had played with John and Daniel a few times. It was fun to get his own kitten Pet side out from time to time. When John had gone from kneeling to crawling and mewing at the puppy Sub a bit, Rodney had cooed and then grabbed his laptop so he could do some online shopping before the deadline they were leaving by hit. He hadn’t told John what he’d gotten him yet, but John hadn’t felt like an animal Pet since then, so it could be a surprise. Evan’s Handler was marine named Holts, who had the look of a Handler who was just on babysitting duty.
John didn’t know the other Sub on the expedition though. Her name was Kimara, and she had the tiniest Handler John had ever seen. She seemed to be another Pet, which made sense for them all to be attracted to the military life, as the most common Sub class in the military, and her Handler was another scientist named Miko. Rodney said that they would be working in the same labs, so Kimara and John might get along. Miko, much like Rodney, didn’t seem inclined to give her charge up anytime soon. She had her hand wrapped around the most beautiful silver chain leash with a white leather handle, connected to her dark skinned Sub’s ivory collar.
John wondered if the reason her and John both had scientists for Handlers was because she was also chosen for her ATA gene and would be playing in the labs as well.
John leaned into Rodney’s side as he spoke with his team, relaxing a little as a protective arm snaked around his waist and fingers curled over his side. It made John sigh, thinking about the past month with this man. Rodney was something amazing.
When his focus was on his work, you’d think he wouldn’t pay any mind to the people around him, but Rodney was amazing at split focus, as he had the ability to somehow know when John needed him, or when to give his next orders. Carson claimed it was because Rodney would time his orders based off when his own blood sugar was getting low, which was partially true, and John liked that it made it easier on him if he had his own internal systems as well. But he also knew that sometimes Rodney would just sense the distress when John needed him, or if John needed to be deeper in his submission.
But he also had taken care of John in ways that other Handlers either avoided, or would turn sexual. John had never been washed in a bath by a partner he didn’t intend for sexual activities with. He’d had a few Handlers that he accepted sexual contact with, and those baths had always turned… messy.
Rodney just liked to put him in a tub and scrub him clean, for some reason. The first time it happened, John had asked Rodney about that.
“Sex? No no, this is just a bath, John. I simply want to clean you up myself.” Rodney was stripping a baffled John efficiently. John had a service submission instinct, so he questioned that.
“You wish to take care of my needs in this way? Is it not my job to take care of you, in your mind?”
Rodney nodded, motioning John to sit on the edge of the bathtub in his apartment. “I know, I understand that you have things you like to do for me. You like to get meals and coffee for me, you tidy up my work stations and sit so nicely at my side.” He pulled off John’s boots and socks, looking up at him with a little smirk. “But you also hum when I pet you. You mew sometimes when I give you attention, and you arrange your blankets into a nest. I think you could benefit by not thinking of yourself as human when I do this for you. I like to bathe Subs, and you have a pet instinct that you try to hide.”
John did blush at that, letting Rodney guide him up to stand so he could take off John’s pants and underwear. John wasn’t shy about being naked, but he was shy as he thought about his pet instincts. “I don’t hide it, exactly, but I don’t like to be open as a pet. I like to service others when I’m on duty, I feel as though it’s the best use of my time.”
Rodney gently squeezed the back of John’s neck as he slowly unbuckled the collar, watching his reactions for any stress that some subs got when their collars came off. John was relaxed under his touch, and didn’t whine when Rodney pulled his hand back. “Consider the fact that I have to boss people around all day. Sometimes when I come home, I just want a purring kitten in my lap. I love the idea of bathing you. It doesn’t have to be sexual. But we aren’t on duty right now, and you can service me by being good and letting your mind drift off into kittenspace.”
John had obeyed the suggestion as if it were an order, relaxing into the hot water as Rodney pet his fingers through John’s messy hair, humming in pleasure as he basked in touch that wasn’t meant to arouse.
That had actually been a first. Handlers that didn’t want to have sec with him, usually also expected a lower level of personal contact with him, and expected to move him on to another Handler soon. Rodney didn’t plan to get rid of him, and clearly meant to take care of him.
He roused a bit from his pleased haze as Rodney picked up his pack and slipped it on, moving them to stand near Weir, Sumner and Beckett, as one of the department leaders for the expedition.
John followed him at a tight heel, even without a leash on his collar, since they had left that in the packs for now. Time to get going through the wormhole. He couldn’t say he wasn’t nervous about what that would entail, but Rodney had enough anxiety for both of them, so he decided to loosen his for now, giving a relaxed nature to things so he could make the change easier on them all.
***
They really needed to find a ZPM, and John was pretty sure they wouldn’t find one on this planet, but their leader seemed to be a seasoned trader and willing to help them. They genuinely couldn’t afford to deny an extremely important ally this soon. Not if they were going to survive being in this galaxy.
Teyla had led him to the ruins of the Ancient city that had once lived on Athos, Rodney giving him a careful once over before nodding him off. John eagerly went with the woman, excited at the prospect of a new friend. John knew he was awkward, and rambled a bit, but he liked friends, and they had the chance to make new allies in a new freaking galaxy-
He’s still nervous for Atlantis and excited about being in a new galaxy, and it’s accumulating into an anxious energy under his skin that made him want to run a mile.
For now, he accepted Teyla’s offer to show him the ruins of an ancient city in another galaxy, in hopes of learning about the people of this galaxy. Rodney had handed him an energy readings detector before he left. “Tell me if anything is giving off strong readings.”
John nodded. “Yes Sir.”
Teyla had waited til they were in the bounds of the city before she broached the subject she’d apparently wanted to talk about. “May I ask your position within this group?”
John looked back at her with a cocked eyebrow, confused. “I do not understand the question, I think? I am simply one of the expedition sent out in hopes of finding energy devices to help our city.”
Teyla slowly nodded at him, gently leading him through the ruins. “You wear a collar, and look to Doctor McKay for permission with all actions. You also… knelt at his feet while we shared tea. I simply wish to understand if you are here willingly.”
John looked at her in confusion for a minute, eyebrows furrowed. “I… I am here of my own will. I am the charge of Doctor McKay, but he does not bring me places against my will. I had not realized kneeling at his side would be seen as an offense. It was just easier to save space, I was thinking.” It also felt good to have Rodney’s hand in his hair, rubbing the back of his neck while they shared tea with their hosts. It had been the first moment he’d had to relax since they first realized the city was going to start flooding if they didn’t get more energy soon.
Teyla slowly nodded. “And your collar? Who holds the leash to that?”
John hummed, giving a little shrug at the odd question. “Whoever I ask to hold the leash, usually. I don’t usually use a leash though, since I like sticking by my Handler’s sides.”
Teyla’s face lit up a little, and she fully stopped in place. “John, I believe I’ve made a misunderstanding. Are you willingly kept, and not a slave?”
John considered that a moment, looking considering. “Slave, as in the class of Submissive, or slave, as in a trafficked and owned human?”
Teyla winced. “Is there a difference? This is where I believe our miscommunication has stemmed.”
John hummed. “Okay, so, I’ve heard from the reports I read before we left, that in our original galaxy, they didn’t have many planets with Submissives and Handlers. Do you know what that is?”
“Not in the way you seem to use these terms.”
John nodded, looking firm. “Okay, you’re right I think. On my planet, some of us are born biologically different from the rest. These people are either a Submissive, or a Handler. Not all Submissives have very strong instincts that demand them to submit to others, and not all Handlers wish to take care of a Sub. I got confused because there are three types of Sub categories; Slaves, who are extremely Submissive to the point where they do not wish to dictate any part of their lives; Pets, who are typically task oriented people who want jobs and goals, but also wish to be given those tasks by another person they trust, or taken care of in various ways; and Brats, those who act out in a need for punishment or reprimand, who often look for others who will give chastisement and keep them ‘in line’.” John couldn’t help the way he stared at the ground as he recounted the three main Sub categories to her, not quite able to meet a domineering stare while reminded of all the ways he was different. “Handlers are the ones that have a natural inclination to take care of us, and guide us.”
“Interesting. And you are one of these types? You have a biological need to be submissive to another, and Doctor McKay fills that role for you by taking charge of your tasks?”
John’s eyes flickered up and back down when he saw her still staring into his soul. “I’m a Pet. I like having a detail oriented life where I can follow a set routine while not at work, and give over my task management to higher ups that I willingly place my trust in. If I were given over to a Handler that I did not trust, I would only need to tell another within my military and they would help remove me from that Handler. I stay with Doctor McKay because I trust him. He originally asked to be my Handler because I have a gene that helps me use Ancient technology, but I like the way he treats me. He lets me kneel for him, which I find comfortable; and he’ll give me tasks to do instead of just ignoring me when I’m not working on… military stuff…” he frowned. “It’s hard to explain, but as a member of the Air Force, working with this technology isn’t actually what I signed up to do. I used to have other tasks, but then I only had working with Rodney. When Rodney took control of me, he made sure that I wouldn’t suffer without orders to complete.”
Teyla looked like one of Rodney’s scientists now, utterly fascinated and wanting to poke John with a stick like he was a bug. “And these orders, how easy is it for you to disobey them? I wonder how much control this gives someone over you.”
John nodded, looking up at her with more confidence as he realized she was starting to get it. “As a Pet, it’s pretty hard for me to disobey orders. I got in trouble for it once, and it was bad. I was only reprimanded as much as they would have any other member of the Air Force, but it was still a mark on my record. A Slave is nearly incapable of disobeying orders from a Handler. To do so goes against their nature, and it pains them to disobey. Usually, they can only disobey because of trauma or being hurt before. A Brat is the most likely to disobey an order, not because they don’t like orders, but because it’s in their nature to question and seek more guidance when given orders. A Brat might roll their eyes at you for telling them to sit down, but not because they don’t want to sit, but because they’re looking for reassurance that this action is for their care, not from a lack of it.”
Teyla finally deflated a little, looking honestly relieved as she realized they hadn’t been found by those that believed in slavery. “So your collar-?”
John smiled a little, reaching up to tug the D ring. “I got this for myself. I also bought the leash that matches it. It puts light pressure on a sensitive part of my body that helps release endorphins and reduce anxiety. It makes me feel better. Subs without collars or at least wrist cuffs usually get panic attacks when overwhelmed. I can tug on the ring to my collar and feel a soothing sensation.”
She smiled back at him, giving another nod. “I’m glad we were able to clear that up, John Sheppard. We should probably get back to your people now, and discuss the possibilities of finding energy devices you need on other worlds.”