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Arms and legs trembling with fatigue, John stumbled into his quarters and made a beeline for his bed. He hadn't slept well the last several days due to his cold and Lucius. Lucius Lavin: a name he hoped to never hear again. And, unless the man was faster than he looked, a name he probably would never hear again considering how truly outraged the townsfolk were when Carson told them how Lucius tricked them, his six, or was it seven, wives at the top of the list.
Once he woke up, he was going to have serious words with Rodney. Now that he wasn’t under the influence of that damned potion, he was pissed that Rodney had taken advantage of him in that way.
~~0~0~0~~
After ferrying Lucius home, John and his team had returned to Atlantis for some much-needed rest. The other three members of his team had been rather subdued during the trip, each lost in their thoughts. Ronon kept shooting him guilty looks and Teyla kept trying to find the right death glare that would incinerate Lucius on the spot.
Once Jumper Four settled on its pad and the ramp was down, Teyla hurried out followed by Ronon. John stood and stretched, his abused muscles complaining. Behind him, Rodney coughed and John turned in concern. “You okay?”
Rodney coughed again then cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. The air in here is rather dry, no doubt due to the neglect of the climate control systems or some offhand comment by that smarmy weasel that the air was too moist and was unhealthy for his delicate constitution or some such drivel.”
John breathed in and the air did seem a little dry, but the air inside the Jumper Bay usually did. He shrugged and let it pass – he had other things to worry about, like avoiding the stream of apologies he was certain would be coming his way for the next few weeks.
John stepped forward and clapped Rodney on the shoulder. ‘C’mon, we need to go report.”
Rodney faced him and nodded. “After we report to Elizabeth, would you do me a favor and clean my room? I think I pulled a muscle in my back when Lucius ambushed me in my lab.”
Clean his room? What the hell?! He was about to open his mouth to reply when he grew aware of a subtle perfume in the air. It made him happy and of course, he’d be glad to clean Rodney’s room.
Rodney appeared surprised when John agreed. Maybe he had expected John to refuse?
John heard the cries of outrage from Elizabeth and Teyla, but they were unimportant. The only thought on his mind was cleaning Rodney’s room and making his friend happy.
~~0~0~0~~
Rodney paused in front of Sheppard’s door and drew in a steadying breath before activating the door chime. When there was no answer, he repeated the chime. He was worried when there was still no signs of life after he rang a third time. Surely Sheppard couldn’t be that mad at him. Knowing it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Rodney set the tray down and checked the LSD he’d brought with him.
Yep, one dot, holding stationary on the wireframe construct representing Sheppard’s bed. Rodney quickly popped the cover and hot-wired the door then scooped the tray up and sailed into John’s quarters. The room was only dimly lit, the only light coming in through the curtained windows. There was a table to his left, so Rodney set the tray down in order to avoid dropping it.
“Um, Sheppard, you awake? You missed lunch and didn’t show up for dinner so I brought you a tray,” Rodney called softly.
Silence.
Gut churning, Rodney thought the lights up a little then sidled up to the bed and peered at John. What he saw had him reaching for his radio. “McKay to Beckett.”
“Yes, Rodney, what can I do for you?”
“You can grab your bag and come to Sheppard’s quarters.”
An exasperated sigh filled his ear. “Rodney, I’m not going to slip the Colonel a mickey so he’ll forget he’s mad at you.”
“I was joking about that, but he does need you. Sheppard is currently collapsed across his bed and is pale, cold, and clammy.” Rodney leaned over and placed his fingertips against John’s neck at the pulse point. “His pulse is fast and he’s wheezing like the ancient air conditioner in my first apartment.”
A burst of Gaelic cursing issued from his radio. “Bloody hell! I’m on my way, Rodney.”
Hesitant to move Sheppard, Rodney spent the time pacing. He was so relieved when Carson entered with Dorothy and a gurney.
“Rodney, sit your arse down or I’ll sit you down!”
“I’m just concerned, Carson,” Rodney said after Carson shoved him aside for the third time.
“Aye, concerned you might be, but this is yer fault!”
“My fault,” Rodney asked. “How the heck is Sheppard being sick my fault?”
Carson stood and faced him while Dorothy took John’s blood pressure. “I heard about that dodgy little trick of yours this morning.” Rodney opened his mouth but Carson cut him off. “Don’t give me any rubbish about it being a harmless joke or a little test.” He flung his arm back to point at John. “The Colonel is very sick, thanks to your cock up.”
“I meant to check on him, but I was called away to deal with an issue in the labs!”
“An issue that Radek or Miko could have handled in your place.”
“Maybe, but…”
“Rodney, there is no but. You owe The Colonel … John a serious apology. He risked his life to free us from that wanker’s clutches.”
Rodney was silent while Carson and Dorothy maneuvered John onto the gurney then headed to the infirmary. He followed along until they got to the entrance where he found the way blocked. “Carson, I want to stay with Sheppard!”
Carson shook his head. “Not this time, Rodney. I should think you’ve done enough to The Colonel today. Go back to your lab an’ I’ll call you to let you know his condition.”
“Fine.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Wendy Mitchell had just placed the last of her pre-dinner dishes on the drain board to dry when she heard a vehicle turn onto their driveway. She hurried to the window and peeked out to see a big black SUV heading slowly toward the house., the green and white of Colorado state license plates obvious even at the remaining distance.
Heading for the front door, she paused and grabbed the Beretta 9mil Cam had given her, slipping it into her pocket before she opened the outer door and stepped onto the porch.
The truck slowed and came to a gentle stop, the engine shutting off just before a slender, golden-skinned woman climbed from the driver’s seat. Two men exited the vehicle and joined her, one tall with dreadlocks, the other shorter with broad shoulders and thinning hair.
“Hello, there,” Wendy called. “Is there something I can help you folks with?”
The woman said something to the two men then stepped forward a single pace, a peaceful smile on her face. “Forgive me, but is this the Mitchell Residence?”
Wendy moved her right hand to settle near her hip. “That depends on who’s asking.”
The woman’s smile shifted to become genuine. “I am Teyla Emmagan, and these are Ronon Dex and Rodney McKay. We work with John Sheppard.”
“You’re John’s team,” Wendy said. “I’m Wendy Mitchell. John and Cam have told me a lot about you and it’s nice to finally meet you.” She peered around looking for John. “Is John with you?” Her expression grew worried. “Something hasn’t happened to him, has it?”
“John has been very sick recently, Mrs. Mitchell,” Teyla said. “We have brought him here so that he may be with Cameron and will hopefully feel better soon.”
“Please, call me Wendy.”
Teyla nodded. “Then you shall call us Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon.”
Wendy shifted to be able to see all three of them. “So, where’s John?”
Ronon hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Still asleep.”
Wendy hurried to the Tahoe and eased open the last door. John lay inside huddled beneath a blanket, face pale and drawn, with dark circles under his eyes. “I hate to wake him up, but he needs to be in bed.” Wendy reached to touch John’s shoulder to wake him, but a large arm blocked her as Ronon scooped John from the car seat as one would a toddler.
Wendy spun toward the house and Ronon fell into step at her heels, Teyla at her side and Rodney trailing behind.
“Is Cameron here,” Teyla asked.
Wendy waved at the distant town. “He’s out with his father and brother. They’ll be back in a few hours.”
Once inside, Wendy motioned down the hall. “Living room’s that way, Teyla. You an’ Rodney make yourselves comfortable while I get John settled.”
With three kids of her own and a passel of other kids always underfoot, Wendy grew adept at reading body language and Teyla was radiating discomfort. “This isn’t the first time I’ve cared for one of my boys. He’ll be fine.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
As he followed his father’s truck down the long driveway, Cam was glad he’d insisted they take two vehicles in order to have plenty of cargo space. Momma had sent them off with her list, and he’d taken care of his own while his Dad was in the hardware store. After they filled the truck and still had shopping to do, Dad admitted that he was grateful for Cam’s insistence.
Pulling into the yard, Cam noticed a black Chevy Tahoe parked near the front door. Squinting in the dim light of dusk, Cam could barely make out the green and white of Colorado license plates. His heart leaped in joy. While it could be someone from the SGC, it was more likely that his visitor was from somewhere much further away.
Cam released his shields a tiny bit and was rewarded with the feeling of warmth that he associated with John’s presence. Reaching out, he sent John a mental “hello” but it went unanswered. Deciding that the mystery of John unresponsiveness could wait a bit, Cam parked by the back door and hopped out to start unloading. The back door opened and Momma came out, John’s team trailing behind her. The extra hands made the work go much faster with the tantalizing scents of his Momma’s cooking acting as a reward.
Cam crept up the stairs to see John while Momma was putting the finishing touches on dinner. John lay on the side of the bed nearest the door. Cam sat on the edge beside him and frowned. From his appearance, John had been very ill lately, which explained his own touchy stomach and the general feeling of crappiness he’d been struggling against. Leaning forward, he brushed the backs of his fingers across John’s cheek, noting the skin felt dry and overly warm. Standing, he walked to the head of the stairs. “Momma, when did John last have something for his fever?”
“It has been five and one-half hours, Cameron,” Teyla replied from the floor below. “We stopped halfway to change drivers and gave John his medicine at that time.”
“Okay, thanks, Teyla.” Cam ducked into the bathroom for some water then returned to his seat at John’s side. Locating the right pill bottle, he shook out the dosage and set the tablets beside the water. Reaching out, he lightly patted John‘s cheek. “John, sweetie, I need you to wake up for me.” He tapped John’s cheek once more and was rewarded with a soft groan. “C’mon, baby, wake up.”
John moaned and Cam ran his fingers through John’s sweat-matted hair. After a moment, John’s eyelids flickered open briefly and he let out a soft whimper. “I know you don’t feel good, but you need to wake up, baby.”
Cam waited while John struggled to fully surface, which told him how very sick John had been. When John finally managed to fully open his eyes, Cam smiled.
“Cam,” John whispered.
“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” Cam told him. “I hated to wake you, but it’s time for your meds.”
A squeak from the hallway warned him of company and a breath later, Momma stepped through the door.
“How are you feeling, John,” she asked.
John was silent for a moment and Cam wondered how truthful he was going to be. He’d heard the stories from John’s team and several of the Atlantis medical personnel that John had a habit of downplaying his injuries, but he had always been truthful with Cam.
“Yucky,” John rasped out.
Momma chuckled as she came to stand behind Cam. “Cameron’s going to help you to the bathroom then you can take your pills and I’ll bring you some soup in a few minutes.”
John frowned as Cam stood and peeled back the covers. “Not hungry.”
“You will eat,” Momma told him sternly. “I can count your ribs, John. Teyla told me your appetite is touchy when you’ve been ill or injured. Personally, I think your problem is that doctors always want to feed you bland foods or thin broths, like your taste buds quit functioning while you’re sick. Since I do not subscribe to that school of thought, I warmed up some of the potato soup we had last night for dinner. I did thin it a little, but it was a bit thick to begin with.”
Cam helped John from the bed and steadied him as he found his balance. John looped one arm around Cam’s waist and tilted his head to look at both of them. “Thanks, Momma.”
Momma wrapped them both in a loose hug. “You’re welcome, John.”
Cam helped John to the bathroom, staying close to support him if he needed it. John was leaning on him heavily by the time they recrossed the hall, the short trip having worn him out.
Momma was back with the soup by the time he had John back in bed. She deposited the tray on his lap then left with a smile.
Spoon in hand, John sat there staring at the tray.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hate being sick an’ I hate being an invalid,” John said grumpily.
Cam reached out and picked up his free hand. “Hey, I know. Believe me, I know.”
John peered up at him, eyes questioning.
“It’s part of who we are. We’re the ones who always have to be strong for everyone else. Even when we feel like digging a hole and hiding, we can’t,” Cam told him. “Now, eat. If you don’t make a decent dent in that, Momma’s gonna come up here and yell at you. Personally, I’d rather face a Prior than Momma’s wrath.”
John scooped a spoonful of soup and popped it in his mouth and chewed. Cam smiled as appreciative noises emanated from John as the soup steadily disappeared.
Cam set the tray aside once the soup and bread had migrated into John’s stomach. “Feel better, babe?”
“Yeah, a bit,” John confessed with a yawn.
Cam leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. “Get some sleep.”
A shadow crossed John’s face. “You’ll sleep here?”
Cam kissed him again. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Dinner was jovial, but there was an air of tension lurking beneath the innocuous stories. Once the dishes were cleared and put away, everyone settled around the table with fresh chocolate chip cookies and the beverage of their choice.
Cam opened his mouth to ask the question that's been on the tip of his tongue all evening, but Momma beat him to it.
“So, what happened to John?”
Looks, nods, shrugs, and a few arched eyebrows were exchanged between Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney then Teyla nodded and placed her hands one atop the other on the table near her mug.
“While gathering Gates for the Gate Bridge, we happened across a very happy village. They welcomed us and we were warmly greeted by their headman, a man named Lucius Lavin.” Teyla grimaced as she said the name and Cam figured he was important to the story. “We had lunch with them and Lucius regaled us with stories of his travels and some of the medical miracles he had performed. After promising to return at a later time, we returned to Atlantis.”
Teyla took a drink then continued. “After reporting to Dr. Weir, Dr. Beckett and another of the teams returned to Lucius’ village. Several hours later, Dr. Beckett returned with Lucius. Dr. Weir was not happy about his decision and neither was John. Over the course of the next several days, Lucius took over the city by means of a potion he drank that secreted pheromones which influenced the mind. John was the only person who did not fall under his influence. Dr. Beckett feels that this was due to John having a cold. At great risk to himself, John was able to free Dr. Beckett from Lucius’ influence. Dr. Beckett was then able to create an antidote to the potion and gave it to everyone in the city except for John and Lucius. Under the guise of giving Lucius the gene therapy that would allow him to fly the jumpers, Dr. Beckett gave him an antidote to the potion that would prevent it from working for him ever again.”
Teyla paused for another drink then continued. Cam felt she was leaving important bits out, but he’d ask John later. He expected Teyla to resume the story, but it was McKay who picked up the thread.
“When we took Lucius back to his village, all of the villagers were sick and very angry with him after we told them how he’d tricked them. While the villagers were discussing Lucius’ fate, we went to his home and shop and cleared out anything that even remotely looked like it could have any of that potion in it and destroyed it, except for one vial that I kept,” Rodney ended in a soft voice. “I don’t know why … no, actually that’s not right. I do know why I kept a vial of it. Sheppard told me to lock myself in my lab and to avoid everyone else, but I didn’t. After Lucius was locked up, he walked around with this look on his face like he was trying to decide when to start teasing each of us about falling for Lucius’ crap, especially me. After we landed in Atlantis, I drank the potion and asked Sheppard to clean my room after we checked in with Elizabeth. At first, I thought he was going to refuse or laugh at me, but then he clapped me on the shoulder and said “okay!” like it was the most natural thing in the world.”
Cam was ready to explode. He moved to stand, but Teyla started talking again.
“When we realized what Rodney had done, I am ashamed to say that none of us thought of John’s health. Even when he failed to show for dinner, we did not check on him, until much later when Rodney fixed him a tray and took it to his quarters where he found John passed out across his bed, unresponsive, sweating and with a high fever.”
Cam had heard enough. “You’re his team – his family! How could you care so little for him that you didn’t think to check on him? All of you know how easily a cold, even if it seems to have gone away, can get worse! He could have died.”
Cam stood, unable to sit still any longer and began to pace. “Okay, so you fell for the pretty words of a snake oil salesman, big hairy deal! That still doesn’t excuse how you ignored your friend! John was looking out for you the entire time, even when you were probably trying to stun him or beat him up because he wasn’t taken in by this weasel.” Cam saw Ronon flinch and figured one or both had happened. “Yet, when it’s your turn to look out for him, you were too busy or allowed yourselves to be distracted.” Cam took a deep breath to center himself before he started throwing punches. “And you, McKay, you said you wanted John to see how it felt to be under the influence of Lucius’ potion, but did you put yourself in his shoes? He found himself alone, with no one to watch his back, having to watch each word he said and each move he made so that asshat wouldn’t order the Marines to lock him in the Wraith cage or toss him from the back of a moving jumper onto an uninhabited planet or shove him through the gate to a planet without a working DHD. You knew he was vulnerable to the potion and you took advantage of it.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Rodney cried out.
“Then how was it supposed to be, Rodney,” Momma asked.
“Sheppard was supposed to clean my room for a bit then the potion would wear off and he’d be mad at me for a few days and make me show up for PT or pull a prank on me or, or something,” Rodney said. “I didn’t think he’d end up in the infirmary with pneumonia,” he added softly.
Cam latched onto McKay’s statement and ran with it. “That’s exactly the problem – you didn’t think! You’re all smart, intelligent people or John wouldn’t have you on his team, yet you didn’t think about what could happen.” None of John’s team would raise their heads and look his way now. “Now, I’m going to tell you something that John is probably going to yell at me for, so I want you to listen carefully. Before the Siege, of all the personnel on Atlantis, John is the only one who didn’t send a video message to his family. He didn’t send a message because his father disowned him and his brother keeps trying to “cure” him. He didn’t send a message because he didn’t need to - his family was with him.”
Cam started to say more but stopped. Instead, he grabbed a plate and took several of the cookies. “I’m going upstairs before I do something … regrettable.” He leaned over and kissed Momma on the cheek. “’Night, Momma.”
“Good night, son,” Momma told him as she returned the kiss. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I think we’ll be fine.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Setting his goodies down, Cam checked on John. His bond mate was still dead to the world and hadn’t moved a bit. Cam showered and got ready for bed then picked up his current book and the cookies and crawled into bed next to John. At first, he found it difficult to concentrate, but the book was too engrossing and he soon lost himself in the story. Thirty pages into the story, Cam started sweating and set his book down. Maybe he was getting sick too?
Cam flipped the covers back so he could get up and realized that he was pinned by his sexy mate. While he’d been captivated by his book, John had wormed closer and snuggled in. “Hey, baby, you awake?”
“Mmmph.”
“I have some of Momma’s chocolate chip cookies,” Cam said coaxingly. “You can have one if you wake up.”
Cam reached out and snagged one of the cookies then waved it near John’s nose. He smiled when John’s nose twitched like a rabbit scenting a carrot. Feeling bold, Cam rubbed the cookie along John’s bottom lip, pulling it away whenever John tried to lick or bite it. “You gotta wake up if you want the yummy cookie.”
John grunted and moved beside him. “Anyone ever tell you that you can be a real asshole,” John asked, his voice fuzzy with sleep.
“Sure have, baby, and I’ve smiled at every one of them and told them that flattery would get them nowhere.”
John shifted and lurched to a somewhat upright position then reached for the cookie Cam was waving in his face, but Cam pulled it out of reach. John put his hand down and Cam brought it back within reach but took it away when John moved to grab it. After two more repetitions, John crossed his arms and refused to be baited, eyes gone dark with irritation.
Realizing that he probably went too far, Cam set the plate with the other three cookies on it in John’s lap. “Sorry, John. I wanted to see what you would do to get the cookie,” Cam said as he lowered the cookie to the plate.
Faster than he thought possible, John reached out and Cam found himself pulled in for a kiss. Stunned by the love and desire emanating from his mate, Cam didn’t struggle as John licked at his mouth or when John released him and drew the hand still holding the cookie to his mouth and ate it while Cam held it.
Even as sick as John was, Cam found that watching his mate eat from his hand was sexy, especially when John licked the crumbs from his fingers. Cam sent his free hand questing in the space between their bodies until he located the rest of the cookies. Hoping for another kiss, he held the cookie in his teeth and leaned in.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
John was not in the mood to be teased but pampering was definitely on the menu. His mother had always fussed over him when he was sick and, when he heard they were coming to Kansas, had been hoping for some of Cam’s Kansas Comfort.
Eating the cookie from Cam’s fingers was an easy way to get revenge for the teasing. When Cam placed the second cookie between his teeth and leaned in, John was more than happy to oblige. By the time half of the cookie had disappeared, Cam was breathing heavily and a light coat of sweat had popped out on his skin.
When he got to the last bite, still being held between Cam’s teeth, John clamped his hands around Cam’s head and pulled him in for the kiss he was unsubtly hinting for. John ran his tongue along Cam’s lips, savoring the salty, buttery taste left by the cookie. Cam groaned as John forced his mouth open and stole the last bite, a second groan escaping as John broke the last bite in two then fed one of the pieces back to Cam.
John ended the kiss and flopped into his pillows, face stretching into a smile as he took in Cam’s dazed expression. He was still smiling as he found the plate and proceeded to eat one of the last two cookies with as many appreciative noises as he could. Cam’s eyes stayed glued to his face as John licked his fingers clean. Sweet revenge.
John yawned and stretched, breaking the spell of Cam’s gaze.
Cam shook himself and shifted on the bed then smiled ruefully as he plucked the last cookie from the plate. “Feeling better, baby?”
“Some. It’s easier to sleep when people aren’t constantly checking on you.”
“God, don’t I know it.”
Spying Cam’s book, John tried to read the title, but there was too much glare from the bedside lamp. “Whatcha reading?”
“Dead Beat by Jim Butcher. Do you want me to read to you?”
“Yes.”
Soon, Cam’s rich Midwestern drawl filled the room and John fell asleep to the image of a wizard wearing a trench coat riding a Tyrannosaurus Rex through the outskirts of Chicago.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
John woke to someone humming. Since he felt like overcooked spaghetti, he was content to lay still and simply listen. He dozed off without figuring out who his visitor was. When he woke next, his musically inclined guest was gone, late afternoon sunlight streaking his bed. He heard someone release a soft curse and John forced his limp muscles to cooperate so he could turn his head. “Cam?”
Cam set his laptop on the desk and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Glad to see you awake, baby. How do you feel?”
“Like a wrung-out dishrag.”
“Mmm, I’m not surprised,” Cam told him. “Your fever came back up two days ago. It finally broke last night. Momma and I have been looking after you.”
“My team?”
“They’ve been helping with the chores and stuff. I think Teyla was up here once with Momma, but otherwise they’ve stayed away. I think I scared them.”
“What did you do?”
“I told them off after dinner the night you arrived. They all knew you were vulnerable to that damned potion yet none of them checked on you or stopped you when McKay used it on you. You trusted them to have your back and they let you down.”
John was silent as his soggy brain processed Cam’s speech. Cam was right – they had let him down and abused his trust, although he’d have preferred to do the chewing out himself.
“Do you want to see them,” Cam asked.
“No. I don’t feel up to dealing with them right now.”
"Do you feel up to eating?”
John opened his mouth to reply but his stomach chose that moment to rumble. Cam laughed and John joined in.
“That answers that question.” Cam tossed back the covers and John took the hand he held out. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll go raid the kitchen.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Two days later, John woke alone. A brief moment of panic assailed him as he searched for Cam’s presence through their link. A deep sigh of relief escaped when he finally located Cam some distance away. Cam sent back feelings of reassurance and love then gently closed the connection.
John rolled over, feeling foolish and angry at how easily he’d panicked. Here he was, the big, bad Military Commander of Atlantis, anxious because he woke up alone. Kolya would die laughing at the very thought.
Moving slowly, John rose and dressed then made his way downstairs. There was a covered plate in the middle of the table upon which John discovered a thick stack of homemade pancakes. They had cooled to room temperature but that was easily remedied by a trip to the microwave.
John was halfway through his stack when Teyla walked in and took a seat at the table. “Teyla.”
“How are you, John?”
John swallowed his most recent bite and washed it down with a swig of orange juice. “Been better, but I think I’m finally getting over this crap.” He took another bite and gestured with his fork. “Course, I would’ve been over it by now and back on duty if it hadn’t been for Rodney’s little joke.” John was proud of himself for keeping the sneer out of his voice. He returned his attention to his food and Teyla left a few moments later. Muscles in his shoulders relaxed that he hadn’t realized were tense. He knew a confrontation with his team was inevitable, but he didn’t want to have it while eating.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Lounging on the porch swing, John was half asleep, lulled there by the warmth of the day and the birdsong from the trees when his rest was shattered by someone tromping on the wooden steps of the porch. He knew who it was before he even opened his eyes. Various rustling and swishing sounds told him that the owner of the clunky boots wasn’t alone. “Hi, guys. Come to check on me?” John wasn’t quite as successful at keeping the sarcasm from his voice this time.
“Wanted to see if you were okay,” Ronon said.
John opened his eyes and sat up. “Better late than never, huh?” His team winced as the barb hit home. “All three of you knew I had a cold when we found Lucius. And you’ve all been around long enough to know that a minor illness can turn into something worse if the sick person doesn’t get enough food and rest. Having to hide from Lucius and eating on the run did not count as getting sufficient food and rest,” John said, a trace of bitterness in his words.
“And yes, I could have played along and pretended, but that’s not my nature,” John said. “Then, when my cold got better, I would’ve been one of his followers too. Maybe. My ATA gene might have blocked his potion and then where would I be? On display in a wraith cell? Exiled to the mainland or some other planet with what I could carry in two duffle bags?”
“Fortunately, those things didn’t happen. I managed to stay away from Lucius and get Carson free of his influence. Carson neutralized his love potion and we sent him back to his people. Then, just when I think it’s safe to relax, my best friend, knowing I was vulnerable, uses that same damn crap on me!”
“It was supposed to be a joke,” Rodney said in a small voice. “I wanted to see what it was like and … and … you were the only person I could try it on. I figured you’d clean my quarters and the stuff would wear off and we’d all have a big laugh about it and you’d come up with some ridiculous name for the stuff and everything would be fine! I didn’t expect to find you passed out on your bed in the early stages of pneumonia! I had to look up some of the words Carson called me when he came to your quarters.”
“I too thought nothing bad would come of Rodney’s actions, John,” Teyla said. “None of us had suffered any ill effects from L … the potion. I am sorry that I did not think to check on you until Rodney called to tell me that you were in the infirmary.”
“Same here, Sheppard,” Ronon admitted.
John stood and faced them. “And that’s the problem. I trusted all three of you to have my back the same way I do yours and you let me down. How can I trust you in the field if I can’t trust you in Atlantis?” John glared at his team. Ronon’s shoulders slumped in dejection and Teyla bowed her head while Rodney looked as though he’d been told he had to eat a lemon.
“If our positions were reversed, I would have stopped you from running off and I would have stayed with you until that damn potion wore off,” John said quietly. “None of you stopped me. None of you checked on me until after I was sick enough to earn a stay in Carson’s domain. Then, when I’m well enough to be released from the infirmary, you bring me here so you don’t have to take care of me.”
“It’s not like that at all,” Rodney cried as he jumped up. “We brought you here so you could recover faster, not so we could get rid of you! If we’d wanted to get rid of you, we wouldn’t still be here! Mitchell is the only person who’s head you don’t bite off when you’re sick, so we brought you here. Plus, Carson and Elizabeth agreed that you needed some time away from Atlantis.”
“Oh they did, did they?”
Rodney started fidgeting and John knew something was up.
“Well, they, um, did mention that a vacation would be good for you and when I mentioned it to Conan and Teyla, they thought it was a great idea.”
“So here I am without having put pen to paper to request leave time.” Feet spread to shoulder width, John crossed his arms and stared at Rodney until he dropped into a seat. “Yes, Rodney, I found the leave papers in my luggage. Teyla and Ronon I can excuse, but Rodney, you’ve been around the US military long enough to know that unless Carson deemed that my health was at risk, neither he nor Elizabeth could simply send me on vacation. Did you tell Teyla or Ronon that you forged my signature on the paperwork?”
John picked up his glass of juice and drank, watching the Pegasus half of his team over the rim of the glass. Teyla’s confusion was clear since her people didn’t use signatures or personal marks for anything except the occasional trade agreement. Ronon was a different story. Sateda was similar to Earth by way of having a large population, a bureaucratic government, and a standing military. Bureaucracy meant paperwork, and paperwork meant there were signatures and that those signatures were important.
John set his glass down to say something else when a flash of light interrupted him. He turned to see Jack O’Neill standing at the bottom of the porch steps.
“Nice place. I can see why Mitchell likes it here,” Jack announced.
“I’m rather fond of it myself, sir.”
Jack moseyed up the steps, stopping beside John. “Did I interrupt something?”
“My team and I were having a little … discussion, sir.”
“Perfect,” Jack exclaimed as he clapped his hands. “That’s what I came to do so why don’t you go inside and watch something on TV. I hear the afternoon soaps can be pretty entertaining.”
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“Vala,” Jack said. “She’s particularly fond of One Life to Live.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Jack waited until Sheppard made his way inside with the door shut firmly behind him before he turned his gaze to the rest of Atlantis’ premier team. “Alright, I’m pretty sure the three of you can guess why I’m here. I was not a happy camper when I got the latest reports from Atlantis. I can understand Lucius gaining access to the city due to the effects of his “I’m Irresistible” potion, and I know first hand how outside forces can make you do things you normally wouldn’t.”
“But finding out that you drugged the Military Commander of Atlantis and forged his signature on leave papers while he was recovering from a severe illness makes me angry, and when I get angry, people generally end up dead.”
Jack spun and took two steps then turned to face the three Lanteans once more, his anger visible. “Because of the incident that landed Sheppard in the infirmary, I would be well within my rights to boot all three of you from Atlantis. McKay, I believe the current penalty for identity theft and falsifying government documents is ten years at Leavenworth and revocation of your security clearance. Miss Emmagan, you and Specialist Dex could be sent back to Pegasus and barred from ever entering Atlantis again; your security clearances and codes blocked.”
“General, I …”
“Not one word, McKay.” Jack leaned against the porch rail and stared at the Canadian scientist. “I am so angry right now that it wouldn’t take much for me to do exactly that. I don’t know why the three of you chose to act as you did and I don’t care. I do know that that is not how team acts.”
Jack bent at the waist and leaned forward. “Your team is your family, and I can tell you that, even now, my team - my family would not have done what you three did.”
“Forgive me, General,” Teyla said, “but which team did you lead?”
Jack straightened. “I lead SG-1 for seven years. Daniel Jackson, Sam Carter, and I - we were the first Gate team that formed when StarGate Command was created. We added Teal’c on our first mission off-world, the same way Sheppard added the two of you. I fought with George Hammond to get Teal’c for my team because some gut instinct told me I could trust him at my back. I know Sheppard had a helluva time convincing Weir that he wasn’t certifiable for wanting you and McKay on his team, then he went to bat with Weir a second time for you, Dex. And do you know why he did that?” Jack paused his tirade to let it sink in. “Sheppard fought for all three of you because he felt he could trust you.”
“So what happens now,” Ronon asked.
Jack shoved away from the railing and headed for the steps. “That’s up to Sheppard since he has to live with his decision.”
“Have you any suggestions as to how we could regain his trust?”
Jack walked back to his beam-in position. “Remember who you are and what you mean to each other. Trust doesn’t rust, but it can break.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Ronon scuffed his foot on the wooden floor and tried to settle his churning thoughts. He couldn’t really see why the Earthers were getting so bent out of shape by a harmless prank. Yeah, they all knew Sheppard was sick, but he hadn’t acted sick when he stole Beckett from the city or when they’d taken that grizlaur Lucius back to his village. Confused, he decided to air his thoughts. “Why’s everyone so mad?”
“Because we broke faith with John,” Teyla said.
“No, no, no, well, that’s part of it,” McKay uttered, his words stumbling over each other. “Mitchell and O’Neill are upset with us because we let Sheppard down, but they’re also upset with us because he could have died. That’s why Carson was so pissed at us and wouldn’t let us sit with him.”
Ronon mulled McKay’s revelations over. “We owe Sheppard an apology.”
Teyla nodded and stood. “We do, and we shall start right now.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
After O’Neill sent him inside, John settled on the big, overstuffed sofa in the den. In addition to being long enough for him to stretch out, he could also hear every word of Jack’s lecture. In his heart, he knew that none of them had acted with malice. His head backed that up by reminding him that Lucius had been a disruptive presence and that all three of them had been busy with clean-up and repairs.
Logic decided to put it’s two cents in and mentioned that all of them had remembered to eat lunch and dinner because Carson had specifically mentioned that Rodney found John when he brought him a dinner tray. Head countered that argument by pointing out that they didn’t always eat lunch together. Logic conceded the point and Heart gently pointed out that they were all human and that it was okay to make mistakes as long as you realized the error of your ways.
John shook his head to clear his thoughts. They sounded like a lawyer arguing a case. He glimpsed a flicker of light and figured O’Neill had beamed back to the Mountain. His supposition proved correct a short time later when his team filed in. When they didn’t descend on him he figured that they were avoiding him. Shrugging in unconcern over their actions, he returned his attention to his movie. None of them were sick and if something were truly wrong, he trusted them to let him know.
John woke to Rodney standing over him with a delicious-smelling tray, Ronon and Teyla behind him. He scooted upright and Rodney set the tray in his lap.
“Here, we made you lunch.”
“We?” John cast a baleful eye at the array of food on the tray. He wanted to know what Teyla had cooked so he could find a polite way to decline eating it. She was great at tending a pot, but she sucked at actually putting the food together.
“Ronon cut everything up and cooked the potatoes. Teyla toasted the bread and tended the gravy while I made the sandwich.”
John picked up one of the cheese and gravy-covered fries and popped it in his mouth. It was crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside and the gravy was just right with the sprinkle of cheese on top adding a nice burst of flavor. “These are good.”
“They’re alright,” Rodney sniffed. “It’s hard to make proper poutine without the cheese curds, but the Mozzarella and Romano cheeses make an acceptable substitute.”
John ate another fry then picked up his sandwich. The roll was nicely toasted, the meat inside well-done and dripping with juices. He took a bite and closed his eyes to enjoy the flavors of the perfectly sautéed onions and peppers that were mixed in with the beef and cheese.
“Would you like for us to leave the two of you alone,” Rodney asked.
“Hmmm? No.” John looked up to see his team watching him with various expressions of amusement. “This is really good.”
Teyla sat beside him, careful not to jostle him and upset the tray on his lap. “Earlier, you accused us of bringing you here so we would not have to care for you. We did not do so on purpose, but it seems that that is what has happened.” She dropped her head to look at her clasped hands. “In our desire to respect your privacy and allow you time to heal, we have neglected you. We know this is only a small thing, but we are resolved to change our behavior. You are part of our family and what we have done is inexcusable. In time, we hope you will forgive us and allow us to win back your trust.”
With a nod his direction, Teyla stood and left, Ronon and Rodney following her like baby ducklings.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
“C’mon, sleepyhead, up and at ‘em.”
John groaned as he rose from the depths of sleep. “Don’ wanna.”
“If you don’t get up, we can’t go for a run. If we don’t run then you won’t get your strength back. You don’t get your strength back, you won’t have to worry about your team cause the Powers That Be will yank your Active Duty status,” Cam told him. “And while I can keep you in the manner you’ve become accustomed to, I’m fresh out of Jumpers.”
“Bastard,” John muttered as he sat up.
“Ah, but I know you love me.”
John leaned forward and captured his lips. “Fortunately for you.” He took the sweats Cam thrust at him and pulled them on. “So we’re going for a run?”
“Well, more like a fast walk,” Cam admitted. “You know you’ll only hurt yourself if you try to run right now.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
A week later, as they jogged through the cool morning air, John had to admit Cam had had a point. Several of them, actually. And a really cute ass, too.
“Are you ogling my ass,” Cam called back.
“I’m allowed!”
Cam slowed so John could catch up. “Didn’t say you weren’t, baby.”
They matched paces, legs moving in unison as they crested a rise.
“What are you gonna do about your team? I know you’ve been thinking about the situation a lot.”
John was silent for several strides while he gathered his thoughts. “I’m going to keep them. But things aren’t going to be as they were for a while. They’ll have to earn my trust back. No one would blame me if I benched them, especially McKay, but I wouldn’t be able to trust a new team any further than I could throw them. At least if I keep the one I’ve got, I know what I can expect from them.”
“True.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Epilogue - Six weeks later
John ducked and darted between two clumps of trees, as stunner fire impacted the trunks to either side. He hit the ground and crawled forward on his elbows and knees to peer through the bushes. Blaster and P-90 fire gave him the locations of the rest of his team. Bringing his own P-90 to bear, John tagged one of the pursuing Drones right between the eyes, dropping the behemoth instantly. “Heal that, why don't you?”
Unfortunately, his shots drew the attention of a Wraith who'd managed to get behind them. John realized it was there when the space vampire grabbed him by the ankle and yanked him from his cover. He let out a yell that cut off abruptly as the Drone pitched him into another tree. John heard a pop seconds before a wave of excruciating pain washed through him from his now-dislocated left shoulder.
Heavy footsteps pulled John out of the morass of pain from his injured limb. He peered upward through watering eyes to see the Drone bending down to grab him. John tried to get away but his body didn't want to cooperate.
The Wraith’s claws dug into his skin as he dangled from its huge fist. Struggling to free himself, John noted that they were near a steep ravine that paralleled the main road for some time. He presumed that the drone was planning to toss him in after feeding, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Forcing his body to go limp as the drone shook him like a rag doll, John fumbled behind his back, clumsy fingers finally wrapping around the hilt of his combat knife. Vision tunneling in from lack of oxygen, John whipped his knife up and out, catching the Wraith in the enzyme sac. The drone let out a roar as John continued to stab it. He felt its grip loosen and tried to wiggle free. He escaped the Wraith’s grip only to discover there was no ground beneath his feet. Fingers scrabbling, he slid down the slope several feet before snagging a thick tree root. The sudden halt strained the muscles in his other shoulder, almost dislocating it as well. Feeling around with his toes, John was able to find a foothold that would support his weight.
John bent his neck to brush his cheek against his left shoulder. Nope, no headset. A glance down at the top pocket on his vest revealed no tiny red light. Fucking Wraith. Now all he could do was hang on and hope the rest of his team didn’t get culled.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Shouting from above raised John from the stupor he’d fallen into.
“Sheppard!”
“I’m picking up a life sign from this direction!”
Dirt rained down around him as the members of his team gathered at the edge of the cliff.
“Sheppard, you down there?”
“Here! I’m down here,” he croaked. John glanced up to see Teyla peering over the edge. “John? Hang on. We are going to throw you down a rope then pull you up.”
John shook his head. “Can’t.”
Teyla appeared puzzled as she turned to look behind her. “He says we cannot throw the rope down.”
“Colonel,” Rodney yelled as he joined Teyla at the lip. “My scanner says the cliff is stable, so what’s wrong?”
“Shoulder’s dislocated.”
Teyla and Rodney disappeared and John shifted in irritation then regretted it as pain flared in the damaged joint. Some discussion went on over his head, but John wasn’t overly worried. His team was here and they wouldn’t leave him. Several moments later, a dark shape came over the edge and started down to him. John blinked and realized his rescuer was Rodney. “McKay?”
“You better appreciate this, Sheppard,” Rodney said as he came to a halt. “Teyla and I drew straws. I lost.” Rodney crabbed across the cliff face then unhooked a climbing harness from his vest and managed to get it wrapped around John.
“Double check your knots.”
“Hah, hah, Colonel. Very funny,” Rodney said even as he checked his knots then clipped lines from John’s harness onto his own. Rodney’s eyes flicked to John’s right hand which hadn’t released its death grip. “You can let go now.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“Do you trust us? Trust me?”
John looked at his hand and forced his numb fingers to uncurl. “Yeah, I trust you. Let’s get out of here.”
~~ And Life Goes On ~~