A/N: A while back, skypig21 was helping me through a story I just couldn't write. I gave it up for a while, but it resurfaced last night as this vignette. So this is for you skypig21. Maybe not what you had in mind, but I think it carries the theme I wanted.

A/N: A big thank you to Sholio for the quick beta and encouragement! Also, thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed any of my stuff. It does my heart good and I don't get to say thank you enough

Spoilers for McKay and Mrs. Miller

Her Brother the Hero

Jeannie never knew Rodney the soldier. Sure she'd known the geeky boy who couldn't hold his own in a fight but liked to pick on her, or the arrogant scientist who hoarded all credit, and eventually she even knew the caring man that he was deep down, but she'd never known about the other side of him. The part of him that put himself into danger to save others. The part that had learned to shoot a gun and live for days on end as a prisoner or protector. For all that she had come to know of her brother, somehow, somewhere in all of it, she had missed this vital part of who he was.

Mer's hand was warm within her own. It was only this and the slow, methodical beep of the machinery around him that assured her he was still alive. "A gunshot wound," the lieutenant that showed up to her door explained. Her hair was held in a tight bun, her shoulders stiff, but her voice held the slightest crack as she explained that Jeannie needed to come with her right away.

The infirmary smelled of antiseptic and blood. Many soldiers had gone to their rest in the heated battle. In the far corner of the infirmary, Mer lay still, surrounded by machines. It was in this corner that Jeannie had planted herself, unwilling to move until Mer did so first.

"A soldier, Mer? A soldier? Fighting aliens with science, that I could accept. But shooting guns and being on the front…You of all people? You who would cry at the slightest bruise? A soldier?" She tightened her grip as though it would keep the tears at bay. "How could you not have told me?"

"Because he didn't realize. Would have scared the crap out of him if he did." John's hand fell onto her shoulder. A simple touch, and yet it meant so much.

Hastily, she brushed away her tears and turned her head toward the military colonel that was such close friends with Mer. And wasn't that just the strangest thing to think about? Mer with friends. Mer enjoying a life of fighting space monsters and keeping the universe safe. At least she had had time to embrace that the last time she had come, but somehow she never imagined him on the battlefield, facing death on a daily basis. It made her stomach turn just to think about it.

"How is he?" John asked. He was almost as pale as Mer. His unkempt hair spoke of a man that hadn't taken a shower in days, and Jeannie was sure she didn't look much better. How long had it been?

"Carson thinks he'll pull through."

"Rodney always does."

Always. As in been there before. As in probably will be there again.

The silence was tangible, accented by each breath that they took. The machines alone continued to make sound. John had yet to remove his hand from her shoulder, though Jeannie could sense that he was uncomfortable with the offering of support.

"Teyla and Ronon were here a few minutes ago. You just missed them."

"Yeah, I saw them in the hall. They're, not surprisingly, off to the gym, practicing more ways to kick my ass. Not that I'd ever admit losing to them."

Jeannie allowed herself a laugh, though nothing felt terribly funny at the moment. Mer's chest continued to move up and down, and she found reassurance in watching it do so. It was almost hypnotizing.

"Thank you for sending for me. I know it's not something you'd do for just anyone."

"Anyone doesn't have clearance."

"Exactly." Her sandals paddled on the floor in time to the machinery beeps, an unconscious display that took too much effort to stop.

"I'm sure he'll appreciate your coming."

John moved to the other end of the room, leaning casually against the wall. Staring at Rodney as though his own life would end if Rodney's did. Carson, Teyla, Ronon, nearly everyone else here had the same look when they came to visit him. What was it Mer had called them? His adoptive family?

"I always thought he was a bad brother. Selfish. Mean. Arrogant."

John stuffed his hand in his pockets, grinning softly. "Well, let's face it, he really is a bit of all of that."

"True." Her fingers joined the orchestra, tapping on her skirt in cadence to her feet and the machines. "But you and I both know he's much more. And if it hadn't been for me coming here before, I might never have known that."

"What can I say? I've just been a good influence on him."

The monitors displayed the same numbers they had an hour ago and the hour before that. Jeannie watched them just as she watched Mer's chest. They were something to look at other than his deathly pallor. All she could think of was that he almost died. Had almost died many times before, though she had never known it. All she knew now was that she was scared. She had just gotten him back.

"You said that he was shot while defending a village?"

"We try not to encourage him, and he likes to act more panicked than he really is, but he does like to play hero every now and then."

"Just like you?"

John pushed away from the wall, looking affronted. "First of all, I don't panic. Second of all, it's my job to be the hero. He's the sidekick."

"I bet he'd think it was the other way around."

"Maybe, but he'd be wrong?"

"Careful, he might hear you."

Though she wished that he would, Mer made no move. Even his heart rate didn't so much as fluctuate.

"Colonel?"

"Yeah?"

"When did it happen?"

"What's that?" He glanced at her hand, still holding Mer's in a tight lock. Jeannie could tell that John wanted to the same, wanted to reach out and comfort his friend, to feel him and know that he was still alive. But he didn't act on this instinct, and Jeannie wondered if the situation would be different if she was not there.

"When did he become a soldier?"

John didn't answer at first. Instead he drew in a deep breath, his back once more pressing against the wall. "Hard to say. But I know this much: He never should have had to. Now that he is, he won't go back. He has too much to fight for."

"And if he gets killed?"

John wouldn't meet her gaze, and maybe that was for the best. Gently, he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I have to go on shift now," he replied.

As he reached the door, she called out, stopping him mid-bolt. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving him a home."

Fingers dug into her skirt, a silent prayer on her mind. She'd wait for Mer to wake up, and then she'd properly berate him for not mentioning the soldier part before. Then she'd stay by his side, continuing to hold his hand, all the while trading jabs and trying to discern what else there was to learn about her older brother. Her brother the hero.