TITLE: Saving Brad Wright
SEASON/SEQUEL: around season 5
CONTENT WARNINGS: This is weird. You have been warned.
SUMMARY: A completely mad voyage beyond space, time and sanity
ARCHIVE: Anywhere please!
Home: Stargate Atlantis Pandora
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. Brad Wright is the property of Brad Wright and no-one else. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I want to dedicate this story to Brad Wright, whose creativity has given me countless hours of fun. Thanks to Angel Star for beta-reading this and making it readable for the english speaking audience.
Saving Brad Wright
My fingers glide over the keyboard like the nimble limbs of a ten-legged spider, whilst my eyes are firmly fixed on the screen and follow every single word. The writing, the correction, the adaption, it all happens without a thought, and already my eyes and fingers have become a direct neural link to the electronic heart of my computer.
I'm racing through a dark spiral tunnel, speeding faster than light to the burning glow at its end, diving so deep into the electronic cosmos that I'm leaving behind the laws of space and time, cause and effect, creator and creation. I'm creating myself and my world anew, breaking down all bridges behind me and still being able to return to the my point of origin any time I please, because whilst my head is flying in the sky my feet are rooted firmly in the ground of reality.
But why should I return? I already know what lies behind me, whilst the light and darkness of the aproaching future is an eternal mystery to which my curiousity is driving me like an intergalactic vortex.
The spiral tunnel seems never-ending, but the glow is getting closer, and finally I reach it. A blonde woman is waiting there for me.
"You know who I am?"
"You are Sam."
"More than that. I am the call, Sam is the echo. I am everything, and she's a part of it. I'm resting at the bottom of your conciousness, sending my echo into your world. Call me Dream, for reality cannot contain me."
"I'm here because I need your help. Dark powers whose mere appearance cannot be described by the written word are threatening my creator."
"And I can help you?"
"Yes, because you're able to look behind the horizon and see me in my true form. You're able to follow me to the place were he is held captive."
"I'm no warrior."
"Then look into your heart. You care about me ... much more than a human can care about another human. In your eyes I'm strong. So strong that there is no obstacle that I cannot overcome. So strong that no harm can ever befall me. As long as you are with me, your creative power will drive me forward - beyond any human or super human boundaries."
She takes my hand and I can feel prickling energy flowing back and forth between us. We give each other as much as we take, building up a force that's much stronger than the sum of both parts.
"Say his name. It will lead us to him."
My point of view is changing. Space and timefoldintoeachotherandspeeduplikealightingboltzzrr ... unfold again and ... drift ... out ... of ... reach ... Must ... con ... cen ... trate ...
And then the fabric of reality rearranges itself and we reach our destination. A grey world. Monochrome. Light and shadow mix together in a meaningless blur. The sky is looming dull and boring above us. The lack of content and hope can be felt physically and tears at the heart like a long forgotten yearning.
I concentrate on my inner self and send out an impulse. Life. Sunshine. Real light and real shadows. The scent of blooming flowers and the feeling of warm wind around us. It's not much - a bubble of about thirty feet, which is melting in this grey wasteland like snow in the sun - but it keeps us alive.
I look up to her and don't have to say a single word. She's brilliant. She knows what I'm thinking by just looking at my eyes.
"Yes, he is here somewhere. We need to find him and get him away from this emotional desert before it destroys his creativity."
"Build something", I suggest. Around us a laboratory full of strange machines and equipment is forming out of nothing. With the pure power of my imagination I create these things, without any hope of ever understanding their true function. But she's in her element, strengthenend by my pure trust in her skills.
"As with every other reality, this one is subject to specific laws of nature. As soon as we understand these laws we will be able to use them to our advantage. A creative spirit like his will always be a foreign body in this environment. And as a foreign body, he will surely cause some violent reactions in his immediate surroundings. So we need a device that's able to detect this reactions and their point of origin."
She starts working, whilst I defend her colourful laboratory against the grey outside world. Finally she completes the device. It's about the size of my fist, and looks highly futuristic.
"The five phase projector measures the cordial tension of this pocket universe and compares it with the parallel tetria output. A deviation points out an innerdimensional disturbance, which can be located by the five phase direction finder. If I'm right we'll find him in less than an hour."
We leave the laboratory behind us, and within a few seconds it is overwelmed by grey waves and washed into oblivion. I find no time to mourn its loss, because now I'm facing the most difficult part of this mission. I have to create a way where no way ever existed…
An old and overgrown forest with small inhabitants who lead us on hidden, winding paths. A deep ravine with roaring water and a wooden walkway just a few feet wide. A windy plateau that intelligent creatures, half eagle, half lion, help us to cross. An abandoned city of concrete and steel with rows of mighty skyscrapers towering above us. And finally a cave filled with wonderful rock formations, where a lone prisoner is held captive.
The block of stone on which the back of his head is resting is so grey and hopeless that all my creative power cannot make anything else out of it other than a grey and hopeless block of stone. She kneels beside him and speaks words of consolation, and a smile apears on his thoughtless face. Of course, what other effect could she possibly have on him, being his Dream also?
A tremor is running trough the cave and the wonderful rock formations transform into dull, grey streaks. The walls take on a grey shape and close in on us. "Quick! Free him!" I shout at her. But she's only looking helplessly at me. She only realises what's happening when it's almost too late.
"Don't stop believing in me! Believe! Believe as hard as you can!"
She can do it. I believe in her. She … can ... do it! She takes the device, the ... five phase projector. She makes some adjustments and touches the prisoners head with it. There's a glow and the rock bursts into a thousand tiny pieces. "Get us out of here!" she yells at me.
The grey wave washes over us, engulfing us in a raging tornado. Suddenly, it breaks away and we find ourselves in a futuristic corridor. The floor is trembling and I hear a low hum. We are on board a space ship, no doubt! I look around curiously, because this is not my picture, it's his. It's no Goa'uld technology, nor Asgard, and it's definitely not built by humans. This is a new design in the making! I see HER, and here she's Samantha Carter. She stands in front of another human - Jack O'Neill. Both of them are frozen in the midst of a conversation. Brad stands up with a groan and looks at me with pain in his eyes. He seems to have a major headache.
"What do you see here?" he asks me.
"I see Sam and Jack in an unwritten future."
"And what are they doing?"
"What are they talking about?"
"Excuse me?" I'm really taken aback. "This is your creation. You should know what they're talking about… shouldn't you?"
I feel a slight hint of grey streaks. "I don't know", he says, full of sorrow. "I came to this point, and now I don't know how to go on."
Then I finally realise that we are not free yet. Instead SHE has allowed me to enter his thoughts. Thoughts that he is somehow unable to finish. This is neither a rare, nor an uncommon phenomenon. A gigantic creative hole is opening up, the mind is empty like a white sheet of paper, and the story is stuck like a ship run aground. And the more important this point of the story is, the more difficult it is to untie the knot and return to the open sea.
He looks at me, asking me for help, but how can I help him? I'm a creation myself, a fleeting thought. Then I have an idea.
"Do you know who I am?"
He shakes his head. So I tell him. And the more I tell him, the more his mood is improving. Then the spark of inspiration flashes over and he gives me a broad smile.
"That's it! You probably don't even know how, but you just made me think of a wonderful idea!"
Full of exitement he continues his work and the frozen scene transforms into a great dialoge with an unexpected twist. Before he jumps onto his train of thought, which is speeding up to full pace again, he waves at me and points to Sam: "She's fantastic, isn't she?"
I nod and smile contentedly. "Yes, she is. Spring of our inspiration."
Than he's gone and I'm alone with Dream. She smiles at me and my heart feels like it's melting. "You did some good work back there", she says approvingly.
"You weren't bad either", I reply.
"How about me sweetening your next fantasy as a reward?"
That makes me smile too.
"I have no problem imagining that!"