A/N: Once again, if the Spanish isn't correct, blame LoneRanger1. He Beta'd part of this so most of the mistakes are my own. If the Hawaiian isn't correct, blame Google.

FYI - Sandy Beach Park is at the south end of the island and Ehukai Beach Park is on the north end of the island according to Google Maps.

Mahalo,

Sandy

Making Amends

Chapter 2

Bad Heir Days

John ran toward the water and dived in. A short time later he was back on shore, his eyes searching up and down the beach but still didn't see Jason. Running to their pile of stuff, alarm started to build as he searched for his headset. His hand finally closed around it, automatically hooking it over his ear. "Sheppard to Hammond."

Sam's voice responded instantly. "Carter. That you again, John?"

"Yeah. I…"

"Thanks for the Godiva, by the way. I…"

He called on his sharply honed ability to be cool in an emergency to keep from panicking. "I need your help, Sam. I'm at the Bonsai Pipeline. My nephew's wiped out and hasn't come back up. Locate and transport to the Infirmary immediately."

All trace of teasing banter evaporated from her tone. "Where?"

The military man fought the urge to pace, one hand tapping his thigh as adrenaline coursed through him. "Approximately 30 meters north from my location and…"

"Hey, who's Sam? What's the Hammond? Is that a ship?"

John spun around and there stood his nephew, still dripping water but fine. Lowering his voice, he said, "Never mind, Hammond."

"Okay. Carter, out."

"You okay, John?" When his uncle just stared at him for a long moment, Jason shrugged and reached for a towel. He was about to use it to wipe his face when John stopped him. Both of his hands gripped Jason on the arms near the shoulders. One hand moved to the back of Jason's neck and the other to his shoulder. John took a step forward then another pulling the boy close without actually embracing him. It wasn't a real hug but it was the closest he'd come to a spontaneous gesture of affection in years. And Jason, knowing little about his father's brother, let it happen. When he felt the eyes of others on them, he cleared his throat and began to withdraw.

John glanced around, saw people watching the two of them and took two steps back, clasping his hands behind his back. "You, uh, had me worried there for minute. Glad you're okay."

Jason shrugged again as if it were nothing. "Got swept down the beach a ways." Watching John pull back into himself, he thought, He does care. He just doesn't know how to show it. "So, who's Sam and is Hammond a ship? And what did you mean by 'transport'?"

"Uh…" John was still a little uneasy. He'd been so thankful Jason was alright he'd almost hugged him. "Sam is Colonel Carter and she's, well, sort of my boss. The rest is confidential."

Pulling a bottle out of the cooler, Jason threw himself down on one of the towels spread out at their feet. He popped the top, took a good, long swig, recapped it and waited while John sat next to him. Glancing around, he saw their fellow sun and surf worshipers had gone about their business leaving them alone on a wide stretch of sand. "I can keep a secret."

Resting his arms on his raised knees, John looked at his hands. "This is one secret you'd have to keep for the rest of your life. You ready to do that?" At his nephew's nod of agreement, John began his tale. "Ever see the show Wormhole X-treme!?" Jason nodded again as he munched on apple slices. "Well, it's true…sort of. I work for a department of the military called Stargate Command. We use a device called a Stargate to travel to and explore other planets. I'm not really sure how it works but it creates a stable wormhole between two points in space…" He used his hands to illustrate.

"…and before I returned to base, Chaya 'shared' herself with me."

Jason snickered. "Shared? Is that what your generation is calling it now?"

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, kid." John wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. "Then there was the time I got stuck inside a time dilation field for six months…"

"Okay, I get it now. I can't know." Jason took one last bite of apple, chewed and swallowed. "But you didn't have to make up all that sci-fi and sex stuff." He squirted a small blob of sanitizer into his palm and rubbed his hands together. "So what? Iraq? Afghanistan?"

John just shrugged. He was at once relieved and irritated that he wasn't believed. "Afghanistan." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either. He got to his feet and slapped Jason on the back. "Come on, kid. Let's do this."

Jason stood as well giving his uncle a challenging stare. "If you think you can handle it…old man." He gave John a shove, grabbed his board and ran like hell for the water. John scooped up his board and followed. They caught clear turquoise waves within seconds of each other and rode them in, each trying to outdo the other.

Hours later, John and Jason returned to the hotel. Blaire and Dave met them in the lobby and the group arranged to meet for dinner at sunset.

As he stood under the hot spray of the shower John thought about how his brother had managed to avoid actually being alone with him the past few days and decided that would change tonight. They needed to talk and finally felt he was ready to say some of what was on his mind.

Being here in this place, spending time with his niece and nephew, he felt as if he was finally coming to terms with the fact that, yes, he did have a dark side but so did everyone else. But in order for there to be a dark side, there also had to be a lighter side that loved his family and friends and was able to give and show affection to those he cared for. Maybe, someday soon, he might even find a way to be at ease with himself and the life he'd chosen. Until then, he'd just take it a day at a time.

After scrubbing his skin and hair free of salt water, he wrapped the towel around his waist, switched the TV to the sports channel and lay down on the bed to watch his alma mater at Arizona State.

John was jerked awake by pounding on his door. A glance at the window told him he'd slept for a couple hours at least because the sun had already begun to set. "Yeah, yeah. I'm comin'! Keep yer damn pants on…" He opened the door to see Dave with his cell phone out beginning to dial. His eyes scanned down, taking in the yawn and the towel wrapped around John's waist being held up with one hand.

Dave's mouth upturned in a sardonic smile. "Maybe you should take your own advice."

"The hell? Oh, crap. Dinner. I…"

"…fell asleep? Got that."

Standing back so Dave could enter, John scratched his chest and closed the door. He yanked open the top drawer of the dresser and left it open after pulling out Bermuda shorts and boxers. The bathroom door closed behind him a second later.

He splashed water on his face, dried it with the towel from around his waist then tossed the terrycloth over the shower curtain rod. Dressing quickly, he checked his hair in the mirror, brushing at it in an effort to make it behave. Now, as in the past, it paid no attention. Flipping out the light, he joined Dave in the other room.

"You were trying to keep up with Jason today, weren't you? You're not a teenager anymore, John." Dave shouted through the door. He rolled his eyes when he heard John's response: the flushing of the toilet. It had once been a private joke between the bothers, used in place of language that would get them slapped on the back of the head if their dad heard it.

He pulled out a chair and sat down poking a finger at the empty candy wrappers strewn across the table's surface and snorted. Looking around the room he shook his head ruefully at the fact that, even after 15 plus years in the military, John was still a slob.

Pulling back the curtain, he looked out the window. In the distance, sailboats floated by, the lights on their stern, bow and mast each blinking out a different rhythm. A memory was pulled out of its storage place in his long-term memory of a time the family had gone sailing. It had been just weeks before their mom died. They hadn't gone again until his dad semi-retired and he'd taken over the day-to-day operations of Sheppard Industries. He turned from his contemplations when he heard the bathroom door open.

"Ready?" Dave asked as John put on a tank T-shirt and Hawaiian shirt that had been thrown over the back of a chair.

"Yeah, just let me…" John got down on his hands and knees, reached under the bed and pulled out his flip-flops. "Found 'em. So, where we going for dinner?"

"A little place down the beach. Serves killer Lomi Lomi Salmon and Tuna Poke."

John's stomach gurgled and he made a face. "I was kinda wanting something vegetarian tonight."

Dave snorted at the thought of his burger-loving big brother eating nothing but vegetables. "Uh, John…before we go I, uh…" John looked up from searching for his wallet, finding it behind the bedside table, "…we haven't had much time together since dad died."

John twitched one shoulder. "My job…"

"…keeps you busy and is highly confidential. Yeah. Heard that song and it's getting old. Why've you stayed away? I thought we'd ironed out some of our differences after the funeral, came to some sort of…understanding." John started to turn away but Dave's hand on his arm kept him in place. "You've been distant most of your life. You came to the funeral, but I didn't see one ounce of regret for the time lost between you and dad."

John opened and closed his mouth once, pushing his hand through his hair. "It's…I-I'm not…I don't know if…"

Suddenly, Dave had had enough holding back. "Just tell the truth for once, John. After you left, you never even missed him, did you?"

"Is that what you think?" John yanked his arm free and had the urge to hit his brother but refrained.

"Yeah." Dave crossed his arms waiting impatiently for his brother to respond. "So, tell me I'm wrong."

Taking a few steps away, John turned back toward Dave with a huff of frustration. "Hell, yeah, you're wrong! I started missing him the day mom died…and never stopped missing him."

"What…"

Feeling the walls he'd spent a lifetime building around his emotions begin to crack, John clenched his hands at his sides but couldn't look at his brother. "I…He-dad…when I was a kid, he used to tell me how much I looked like mom, the same hair, the same eyes…the same smile. After she was gone, it was like he couldn't stand to have me around anymore. Suddenly, the father who'd once spent hours playing football, building models or helping me with my homework had not one moment to spare for me yet somehow always had time for you."

Dave just stared at him, holding his breath. This was the first time John had opened up about anything. As a kid, his brother had been willing to give and receive affection at the drop of a hat. Now that he thought about it, it was just after their mother died when it all began to change. The big brother who'd once adored him and was adored in turn began shying away from him, from everyone…except Inez and later, Blaire. "But I thought…"

The military man made a noise, part frustration, part pain. "I let you think it. You and dad were always close, two sides of the same coin. He had nothing but praise for you yet, when he talked to me, it was to criticize or tell me what to do. So many times I tried talking to him but he just blew me off."

"Dad's gone, John. Get over it!"

Dave didn't have a chance to even try to defend himself. John placed both hands in the middle of his chest and shoved. He stumbled against the dresser, caught himself and shoved back. John fell on the bed, both men breathing hard, their respirations fueled by adrenaline, a high level of antagonism and more than 20 years of resentment. "I'm not your adoring seven-year old brother anymore, John. Stop pushing me around!"

"What's taking them so long?" Blaire asked no one in particular after checking the time. "All your father had to do was wake him up and get him dressed."

Melissa was leaning on a decorative column, arms and ankles crossed, chewing on her bottom lip in thought. Her mother cast a look at her and almost laughed at how much she resembled John when she did that.

Jason was texting but his attention was snared as a uniformed security guard hurried to the front desk and had a quick whispered conversation with the agent. He drew his mother's gaze in the same direction when he heard the agent say "1003" just before the guard ran to the elevator. "Mom…"

"That's John's room. Come on." Blaire, Jason and Melissa jumped into the next elevator car and pressed the button for the tenth floor. "I hope they're not doing what I think they're doing."

"You really think they're…"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, boy." Jason sighed heavily.

"No kiddin'." Melissa sighed, too. "Dad's gonna get his butt handed to him."

All three faces were grave as they waited impatiently for the elevator to reach its destination.

With a growl, John launched himself off the bed to tackle Dave. They fell against the wall, Dave's fists coming down on his brother's shoulders. John barely felt it as they wrestled.

The men stumbled back and forth growling and making other inarticulate sounds. Dave worked an arm loose, cocked his fist and hit John in the mouth just as they fell and knocked the table on its side. Neither one heard the atonal sproing! of the guitar falling. John grunted and let him go. He ignored the pain and hit back, catching Dave on the cheek with a fist, snapping his head to the side.

John touched his swollen lip as he started to turn away certain Dave wouldn't retaliate…but he was wrong. A sound made him turn back just in time to be socked with a sloppy punch that caught him just under his left eye.

"Ow! Sonofa…" Dave shook his hand, pain shooting up his arm.

John winced twice. Once when he was hit and again when heard the unmistakable sound of at least three of his brother's knuckles popping. Good thing he's left-handed, he thought just before Dave swung the other arm. It was just as sloppy as the first. By instinct, John deflected the attack, spun around and got Dave in a rear choke hold. Pulling him backward off balance, he steadily applied pressure in an effort to cut off the flow of oxygenated blood to Dave's brain.

But now John's vision had changed. It was as if someone had put a different lens on the world around him, and at that exact moment, the man he was choking to death wasn't his younger brother. He was the embodiment of everything John had been holding in for, well, it seemed like forever.

Dave tried to pull John's arm from around his throat as his vision started to darken and his lungs screamed for oxygen. In a strangled voice, he said, "Johnny, please…"

Suddenly realizing what he was doing and who he was doing it to, John let up and Dave greedily sucked in air. Teeth clenched, John said, "You want the truth about why I left and only came back a few times? Well, here it is!

"When the letter came telling me I'd gotten a full ride to Stanford, I was so excited,the first person I wanted to share the good news with after you and Inez was dad. I went down to his office thinking that finally he'd be proud, that he'd see me…"

Dave stopped struggling as he too remembered that day. He'd been just as excited as John when he heard the news. John had wanted to tell dad in person and hadn't bothered taking his car, just took off out the front door running.

"…but he wasn't and he didn't. He blew his top. Said no son of his was going anywhere but Harvard. We argued and I told him I wanted my own life, not the one he'd planned for me, but he wouldn't listen. I told him I was going to Stanford no matter what and he said…"

John's grip relaxed even more as memories were churned up like seaweed in an outboard motor but Dave didn't try to get out of his brother's arms. He remembered how John had returned an hour later more angry than Dave had ever seen him. He'd gone to his room, packed his clothes and moved into one of the unused apartments over the garage where the housekeeping staff used to live. A few weeks later he'd gone off to college and they'd hardly seen each other or spoken since except to argue.

And here, in this hotel by the beach, a long way from where it had all started, Dave watched his preconceived notions of what had happened between his father and brother fall apart, turned inside out like an umbrella in a hurricane. "What? What did he say?" John stayed silent so long, Dave was afraid his brother had reached the limits of his emotional endurance. "John, tell me. Please."

John realized suddenly that this night could end any of a hundred ways, most of them bad. To prevent that, he took a series of deep breaths and abruptly let Dave go, pushing him as far away as he could. His nerves were stretched almost to the breaking point, tears prickling in the back of his eyes. He turned away so his brother wouldn't see the pain and hurt that he'd buried for decades come kicking and screaming back to the forefront. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and Dave had to listen closely to hear. "He said 'then I guess you're no longer my son.'" The words were as heartbreaking to hear himself say now as it had been when his father had said them.

Stretching out a hand to touch John on the arm, Dave pulled back when he jerked away. "Oh, God. John, I-I'm…sorry. All this time I thought…" He reached out again and cautiously put his hand on John's shoulder squeezing gently. When John tried to pull away again, Dave held on forcing him to accept his brother's touch, his affection. "When we heard through a friend in the government that you'd shipped out to Afghanistan, dad told me he'd done a terrible thing but wouldn't tell me what it was. He worried about you every day. Said he hoped one day you could find a way to forgive him before it was too late."

John turned around and the brothers faced each other across the small room. Dave took a step, another then stopped, forcing John to make the next move. His patience was rewarded when John slowly raised his arms until, as with Jason at the beach, he gripped him just below the shoulders. Taking a half step closer, a hand landed on the back of Dave's neck, the other on his shoulder and their foreheads were pressed together and John's eyes squeezed shut. Again, it wasn't a real hug but it was more than he'd gotten from his brother since they were kids.

Dave eased away from the almost-embrace waiting to see what would happen next. John broke the new-old tension by stepping back and rubbing a hand nervously through his hair. They both looked around at the overturned chairs and table and broken lamp. Even the covers from the bed were pulled onto the floor. How they'd done it they neither knew nor cared. John searched for and located his guitar on the far side of the bed. One of the strings had been broken. He put the instrument on the bed, plucking the other five strings one after the other. Another string broke and they started to laugh.

"Oh, man. You're gonna have one heck of a shiner." Dave pointed to his own eye in illustration.

"I'm not the only one." John went into the bathroom, his voice echoing, "Sorry about, uh, you know, before."

"Yeah. I know."

John had just finished filling two hand towels with ice from the bucket in the bathroom and handing one to Dave when there was pounding on the door and a deep voice shouted, "Security! Open up!"

Blaire and the kids hung back while the guard approached John's room. The man beat on the door and a moment later it was opened by John who was holding a towel to his left eye.

"Yeah?"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Sheppard?" The man, of Hawaiian descent, in his early-forties, and wearing a lightweight dark uniform looked from one man to the other taking in John's split lip and the bruise on Dave's cheek.

"No, no problem. Why?" John tried to look innocent but the guard wasn't buying it.

"One of your neighbors said they heard loud voices and fighting."

Grinning sheepishly, John told him, "Sorry. Haven't seen my little brother in a while and we kinda got carried away."

"O-kay. Just keep it to a dull roar from now on, Mr. Sheppard."

The military man saw something familiar in the way the guard handled himself and straightened his own posture. "Colonel."

The man had started to turn away but faced John again. "How's that?"

"My rank." John pointed and Dave tossed him his wallet. Extracting a hard rectangle of plastic, he passed it to the man. "Colonel John Sheppard, United States Air Force."

"Sorry, Colonel." The older man drew his shoulders back. "First Sergeant Warren Smith USMC, retired."

"At ease, Sergeant." The Air Force officer made an awkward grin as Dave came to stand next to him with the same grin. They didn't know it but they looked more alike than ever at that moment. "Sorry about the noise. We'll keep it down from now on."

"Thank you, sir. Good-night."

Blaire watched the guard walk away then turned wide-eyed stares on Dave and John. "What the HELL happened? Have you two been fighting?" She looked past them into the room gasping at the mess.

John said, "Maybe" at the same time Dave said, "Just a little." The brothers exchanged an eye roll, shrugged and faced Blaire again with identical shit-eating grins.

Dave tapped John's wallet still held in one hand. "Better put that in your pocket before you lose it again, big brother. Or as they say in Hawaii, kua'ana."

"Oh, yeah." The folded piece of leather was shoved into his back pocket, he tossed the towel with the ice in the bathroom sink and pulled the door shut.

As they made their way back to the elevator, the rest of the family was trailing silently behind the brothers, too shocked to speak.

John touched the bruise on his face and said, "You know, you've got a lousy right hook. I could show you the right way to do it so you don't hurt yourself next time."

Dave flexed his hand wincing in pain. "No, thanks. Going forward, I'll just stick to giving noogies.'"

The elevator opened and the men stepped inside followed by the rest of the family. As the doors closed, John asked, "Instead of that funky fish place, how about we get burgers? On me."

After dinner, they took a long walk around the area window shopping. As they passed a women's boutique, John stopped to look at the window display. The mannequin on the left bore a passing resemblance to a certain Canadian female in that it's hair was also blonde. The dress it was wearing was off white with splashes of color in the shapes of Hibiscus, Bird of Paradise, and yellow Plumerias across the hem and up the left side as far as the bottom of the hip. Skinny straps were all that supported it leaving the shoulders, arms and upper chest and back exposed. There was a thigh-high slit on the left side. John had been standing there staring for who knew how long when Blaire sidled up to him.

"Not your color."

"Huh?"

"If you're thinking of becoming a cross-dresser…" she pointed, "…you'd look better in that all-black, off-the-shoulder one. It'll show off your arms better."

He didn't respond, asking instead, "How do you think it would look on a blue-eyed blonde?"

"Oh-ho. So, it's going to be a gift for, uh, what did you say her name was?"

When John turned to look at her, she had a smirk that looked like it was there to stay. "I didn't say, and it's Jeannie, Jeannie Miller." He looked Blaire up and down. "What are you? Size six?"

His sister-in-law shook a finger at him. "Flattery won't get you anywhere, you know. Yes, six. And it would be stunning on your friend."

"Yeah, I know. I, uh, need something for her daughter, too. Eight, looks like her mom, kind of a girly tomboy about so tall. And chocolate for my boss. The good kind."

Taking his arm, she pulled him along with her. "We'll go shopping tomorrow. Let's catch up with Dave and the kids. That band's playing again and I just might be able to get my husband to dance with me tonight." They walked in silence for a while enjoying the renewal of their former friendship. "Do you regret that we never…"

John didn't even have to think it over. "No. You?"

She shook her head. They walked a few more steps. "Uh, John, you understand why I had to side with David whenever the two of you had a fight, right?"

John shrugged. "It's all good, Blaire Bear."

Blaire snorted at his use of the old nickname, gave his arm one last squeeze and let go. His hands went back in his pockets as she cast him a sidelong glance, a smile of satisfaction curling her lips. "You know, I think you're right. It is all good."

Dave was a few feet ahead of the others going into the hotel lobby. He'd already wished the kids good night and went to get a table while Blaire made a call and John brought up the rear.

Jason was ribbing John about falling asleep following their afternoon at the beach when he noticed his uncle was no longer listening, at least not to him. His expression and posture had changed. Jason didn't know John well, but got the feeling it wasn't a good change.

Blaire noticed too and quickly ended her call. Melissa stood on tip-toe trying to see over the shoulders of the taller men. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"Quiet!" John said in his "I'm in charge" voice. Never having heard that particular tone from him before, they obeyed automatically.

Cocking his head to one side, John used his exceptional hearing to eavesdrop on Dave and the three men who were standing in the doorway to the bar. His Spidey-sense tingled when he recognized them as Persian by their accents as well as their dress and the snatches of Farsi coming from the two standing behind the one doing most of the talking.

Dave's face had taken on that emotionless expression he'd seen earlier and in his eyes John could see that he, too, was not happy with the tone and direction of the conversation. Motioning slightly with his head, their little group moved around the corner out of sight.

"We've got a situation. I need all of you to do what I tell you when I tell you or this op could go sideways."

Blaire and Jason said, "But, John…" at the same time Melissa said, "Yes, sir."

John lifted one corner of his mouth in a quick smile as he flicked his eyes at his niece. To Blaire, he said, "Find Sergeant Smith. Repeat this exactly: CQB. OODA. Beer Garden."

"But…" his sister-in-law started to object but he turned away assuming she'd obey his order. She huffed, threw her hands up in the air and went in search of the security guard hoping this wasn't another of John's pranks.

"Jase, I need you to stay with your sister. Do not leave her side and no matter what you hear me say or do in the next few minutes, do as she says and do it immediately!" Jason opened his mouth but closed it again when John went to the glass door with the fire hose behind it. "When Mel gives the word, grab that, turn this, aim, fire!" He pulled a fire extinguisher off the wall and pushed it into Melissa's hands. "Ustedes tres van a ser mi refuerzo. Quando doy la senal, entren a toda fuerza. Entendido?"

The young girl watched his face with wide-eyed anxiety. "Si, si. Espera! Que es la senal?"

John winked and grinned. "Lo sabras!"

Melissa grinned back and nodded once. "¡Tenga Suerte!"

He turned away from them and his brother's children watched their uncle's facial expression and bearing undergo another complete change. The day's growth of beard helped with the transformation. A server was passing with several drinks on her tray. He grabbed one, knocked it back then grabbed another, purposely splashing a little on the front of his shirt. One hand went into his pocket, his shoulders and spine curved, his feet shuffling across the floor as he ambled drunkenly in his brother's direction.

In the space of just a few minutes, John had gone from Uncle John, surfer dude, to Colonel John Sheppard, career soldier, who then morphed into Johnny, drunken beach bum, rendering his niece and nephew speechless once more. The minimal respect they'd already had for him climbed a few notches. If this came off the way they thought, they'd have bragging rights for months to come, maybe years.

John approached Dave and his unwelcome companions just as one of the Persian's slid his right hand inside his jacket. He didn't know for certain the man had a weapon but he wasn't going to take chances with Dave's or his family's lives or the lives of innocent people. Clenching the hand in his pocket, John thought, Show time!

TBC

A/N: The military acronyms were obtained at:

http : / en . wikipedia . org / wiki / List_of_U.S._government_and_military_acronyms (Take out the spaces.)