AN: The version of David's family in this story is based upon the amazing Titan5's wonderful characters, and with her permission I have taken them for a brief play. So while this story can be read as a stand-alone fic, I highly recommend you go and read her story Real Heroes Wear Orange, because it's one of my favourites and it is lightly referenced herein.
SGA
The flames reached eagerly for the dark sky, giving off an intense heat. John had built the bonfire over the course of the afternoon, dragging bits of combustable material from all across the property to a currently unused paddock. Most of it was debris from the garden, dry boughs and other bits of trees resultant from the storm that had torn through weeks ago. There were also wooden pallets burning, and even a broken horse jump.
David, Cindy, and John were all seated around it in a couple of those fancy collapsable canvas camping chairs made for people who go camping but still expect all the comforts of home, an esky full of ice and beer sitting nearby.
"Y'know," David said as he sipped on his beer, "this doesn't sound like Johnny Cash." He nodded at the crappy portable speakers John had owned for years, plugged into his iPod and belting out tunes at the top of their range, a slight crackling sound the only evidence of their age.
"Well, I don't listen to Johnny all the time," John replied. And he didn't. Lieutenant Kerrigan, a kid by any reckoning and into everything Rooster Teeth had borrowed his speakers a few months ago to play music on. She had spent the day with her team huddled around a table in the rec room playing card games, insulting each other, and listening to Trocadero, much to Rodney's annoyance, as it had just so happened AR-1 had been enjoying down time in the rec room that same day. John had found the chilled guitar and blues to his liking, and had purchased a couple of the band's albums on his next earth visit.
David shrugged, "I guess not."
John downed the dregs of his own beer, before reaching into the esky to grab another.
He was staying with his brother for the week; the kids were on summer holidays and Cindy had been nagging John, on Daniel and Gabrielle's behalf, to come visit again. The trip had been going well so far, and after a nice, uneventful dinner at a local steak house, and with the kids watching Frozen for the third time since John had arrived, he had suggested the adults make the most of the night with some beers, music, and the fire.
He hadn't known whether Cindy was even a beer gal when he made the suggestion, but she had agreed easily enough, and seemed to be enjoying herself watching the the two brothers reminisce. She had certainly worked hard enough to get them really talking during John's last stay with the family.
Looking out over the paddock, John noticed a newer building near the stables. "Isn't that where the training yard used to be?" he asked in what he knew was a slightly accusatory tone, but he had really liked that yard.
Dave clearly heard the implications, and while his face showed annoyance, his voice stayed neutral as he answered, "It's still there, in a manner of speaking. I've had it done up a bit, put a roof over it."
John regretted his assumption then. "Wow. I remember you saying you wanted to do that years ago... dad never wanted it though."
"Yeah," David said sadly, "he never got horsemanship the way mom did."
"Made any other changes?" John asked, wanting to move past the awkward sadness that seemed to rise every time he and David talked about their father.
"Not yet," David said, standing up and wandering closer to the fence line. "I have been thinking about a proper cross-country course. Only problem is that Daniel and Gabby would want to ride it, and they're not quite at that level yet."
John chuckled, "I seem to remember a few events you competed at that were above your level."
"Oh no. Don't tell them that. Don't you dare," David said threateningly as John laughed harder and Cindy joined in.
"I never had you put for dangerous rides," Cindy said, ribbing her husband.
"It's not dangerous if you know what you're doing," David and John said at the same time, looking at each other in surprise before bursting out laughing.
"I didn't think you still said that," John choked out.
"It's the truth," Dave said defensively.
John shook his head, chuckling to himself while Cindy sighed quietly, "How you expect the kids to stick to warm up routines..."
Clearing his throat, David quickly set about for a new topic of conversation, before he got in any deeper, "So John, are you going to bake for the kids while you're here?"
"You bake?" Cindy asked in surprise, "as in, you can actually cook?"
John took offence, "I can fend for myself, if that's what you mean."
"No, but Cindy," David cut in over the new round of snickers and death glares, "for a solid month or so, back in high school, John cooked a batch of muffins, cupcakes, or cookies everyday. I don't know what happened to all of them, because they weren't all edible."
Another bout of laughter followed, but John didn't join in this one.
"Seriously though, what was that about?" Dave asked.
At first, John didn't want to answer, but Dave seemed genuinely curious, so he heaved out a breath then sat forward in his chair, nursing his beer. "I found mum's recipe book. Remember when we were kids, and she'd make us snacks for lunch?"
David smiled, "Yeah."
"I was trying to get them right, you know? Trying to make them just like she used to." And there it was, that uncomfortable, awkward silence. As much as they were trying to get along now, it didn't change the years of misunderstanding and miscommunication that had eventually led to John's estrangement from his family.
The quiet dragged on for a bit, as neither Dave nor Cindy seemed to know what to say. Unknowingly, John began to sing along to the lyrics under his breath.
When we were soldiers, we fought so well
Holding the line, we fought like hell
Some were left standing, and others fell
Who got the better, none can tell...
"John?"
Noticing the strange look on Dave's face made him aware of what he'd just sung. Shaking himself from a slight stupor, John tried for a reassuring smile. He got about half-way there, and then he placed David's expression. It was pity.
Pushing to his feet, John felt stirrings of anger. He was grateful for Dave's new-found respect for what he did for a living but never, never did he ever do pity. "It's just a song, David," John snapped, wishing he believed the words even as he spoke them, but there was no way he was going into that with David.
David looked ready to make and angry retort when Cindy laid a hand on his arm, "You might be brothers, but you live in different worlds," she gently reminded him. "You can't share everything."
Taking a deep breath and nodding, David sat back down, dropping his can off in the ever-growing pile of empties. "Sorry, John," he said after a moment. "I'm probably the last person you want to talk to about that stuff."
It wasn't far from the truth, John thought, but he wasn't going to admit to it when they had both been working so hard to reconcile. Offering a crooked smile instead, he found a long stick that had escaped the inferno, and began poking around in the bed of glowing hunks of burned-up wood and white ash.
"Don't let Gabrielle see you doing that," Cindy cautioned, casting a wild glance around as though her daughter would appear out of the dark paddock. "That child has a greater affinity with fire than is natural."
"You don't let her play with fire?" John asked.
Cindy and Dave looked at him like he was mad. "Of course not!" Cindy said indignantly.
Unperturbed, John shrugged, "Kids have got to learn this stuff. Let them do dangerous stuff where you can control the situation, or they're just gonna go do it somewhere you'll have no idea about, and that'll work out a lot worse for everyone."
"When did you become a wise parental figure?" David asked, even as the logic of what John had said worked over him.
Thinking of Jinto and the other Athosian kids, including the newest Athosian, Torren, John smiled. "One of my team mates has just had her first kid."
Cindy cooed while Dave grunted, "You've sat on that."
"What?"
"Well, gee, John, that's usually considered big news," David said sarcastically.
"Hm," John said, "I guess it is, you tend to forget these things..."
"Alright, maybe it's time to ease off the beer, because that didn't make much sense," Cindy said, throwing up her hands as if to bid the world to slow down a bit.
"Either way, I might go and check on the kids," David stood, dusting his hands, "the movie should be over soon and you know they won't go to bed by theirselves."
Cindy gave him the thumbs up, then, despite her previous words, dug around in the esky for another beer.
"John?" she asked as she watched Dave disappear into the distant house.
"Mmm?"
"I'm really glad you and Dave are brothers again."
"...Me too Cindy, me too."