Chapter Three

Please see prologue for full disclaimer

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Chapter Three: Don't Wait Up For Me

All of my life, I've been saying sorry

For the things I know I should have done

All the things I could have said come back to me

Sometimes I wish that it had just begun

Seems I'm always that little too late

All of my life

- Phil Collins, All My Life

The week passed by uneventfully. Rodney kept waiting for something to happen but predictably nothing did. He was warmly welcomed back into the science labs, which was completely unexpected but something he appreciated nonetheless. What did come as a surprise though, was that he settled into his dictated routine for the week without too many obvious problems.

He worked the required six hours each day, losing himself in a pile of ancient artifacts still waiting to be pulled apart and examined. He ate three solid meals every day, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sheppard turned up at the same time to accompany him to lunch. After lunch it's back to the labs to absorb himself in the continuous problems an old city like Atlantis produces. The rest of each afternoon is spent training with Teyla in the exercise rooms.

He has an hour before dinner each night to himself. Usually, he takes long showers, blistering hot and pounding down hard during which he tries his best not to think about anything. By the time he emerges, his skin is lobster red and almost too warm to bear. After dinner, Sheppard usually drags him out to join some of the after hours activities that had been set up in his absence. Once they took part in a game of basket ball. Another night it was roller hockey, and another a poker game involving the exchange of personal items in the place of gambling chips.

After everyone retreated to their rooms for the night, Rodney walks to keep his thoughts at bay. He'd walk all the way out to the end of one of the piers, enjoying the fresh, cold air and the silence. Then he'd stand at the edge of Atlantis and just look at the moons and the water, and wonder when something would change. He still felt as if he was missing something, as if he had a limb amputated but still felt the ghost of it there with him.

That night had been movie night. There had been a good turn out, at least twenty people, and Rodney couldn't remember what they'd watched, but it had been something funny. He hadn't been paying much attention. He'd been squashed on a small couch, with Teyla on one end and himself on the other and Sheppard sprawled out loose-limbed between them. Ronon had been sitting on the floor and leaning against the arm closest to Teyla.

All he had been able concentrate on was the warmth of Sheppard pressed against his side, and the sound of his laughter. At one point during the movie, Sheppard had slid his arms along the back of the couch and Rodney had shivered when he felt the heat of his skin.

Needless to say he hadn't really enjoyed himself. Everyone else around him had been involved in the movie, and he had been miserably contemplating this strange turn in his feelings for Sheppard. The sound of their laughter had been grating on his nerves, and as soon as the movie had ended Rodney had made his timely escape.

His usual nightly walk hadn't proved to be any help at all.

So he was getting ready for bed, dressed in a pair of ratty old track pants, an equally ratty shirt and an old hoodie. He was fully prepared to just collapse in bed and try to forget everything, because he really was tired and in need of some peace. It wasn't too hard to admit that the depression he had fallen into had him stuck. He wanted to move forward, but he didn't know how to. His sessions with Heightmire had helped him sort things out a little, and she had urged him to take things one day at a time and to give himself the space and time he needed to get his feet back underneath him. Thankfully, she hadn't started probing into his feelings yet, something for which he was immensely grateful. He wasn't ready to start dealing with that particular mess just yet.

The almost pleasant sound of his door chime ringing startled him, but he granted entrance immediately. There weren't many people who would visit him this late at night, and the few who would he considered to be friends.

It turned out to be John Sheppard stepping through his doorway.

"Hey. You got a minute?" Sheppard asked as he looked around the room.

"Sure," Rodney said uneasily. He waved John to a chair and sat opposite him, picking at a ragged hole in the knee of his trousers. "What did you want to talk about?"

John took a seat on one of the cream colored chairs and leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

"You," he replied.

"Me?" Rodney jerked his head up to look at him in surprise before looking away and swallowing. "What about me?"

"You haven't been talking much," John stated quietly. "I'm worried about you."

Rodney frowned as he resumed picking at the hole again.

"You don't need to. I'm fine."

"I knew you'd say that, but I think we both know that's not the truth. You've been too quiet." John paused for a moment, an unhappy frown on his face. "I can't imagine how hard it is to try and move on from this, and I know you're struggling. I need to know if you think you're ready to start off world missions again. I want you back on the team again Rodney, but I don't want to ask Colonel Carter for that if you're not ready. If you need more time..."

"No. It's okay," Rodney broke in quickly. He sighed, feeling exhausted, and rubbed his eyes. "Heightmire was right. If I had time off, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I'd go...I'd like to start going off world again. I've been sticking to the schedule..."

"I know you have and you've been doing well. I just want to make sure that you're going to keep doing well and not get bogged down by all of this while we're on a mission," John said. "I'm willing to give you time to sort yourself out of this mess. But I want your word that you're not going to endanger yourself or any member of the team by losing it while we're off world. I can't risk that, Rodney."

"I understand. I wouldn't do anything that risks someone's life." Rodney said steadily.

"Good. That's all I needed to hear." John sat back in his chair and looked around. "I see you haven't started unpacking yet."

Rodney glanced at the boxes he'd pushed back against the walls, and into the empty room and shrugged.

"I haven't really had the time. Well, that and I don't really know where to start."

"Understandable." John nodded.

They fell into an uneasy silence. Rodney was just working up the courage to ask what he had been thinking about for days. In the end he got up and walked to the window.

"What...what did they tell Jeannie?" he asked, his voice hoarser than he would have liked.

In the window, he watched as John lowered his head.

"They told her you were MIA and presumed dead," he said softly. Rodney had to listen hard to hear him. "I went and visited her."

"And? How was she?"

Rodney wanted to see her again, but he wasn't sure what he would say. He'd been thinking about writing to her, but whenever he tried to put pen to paper, he couldn't think about anything to write.

"She didn't take it too well," John admitted. "She threw me out actually. But she found out where I was staying and came and apologized."

Rodney couldn't help the smile that broke out. It was exactly what he'd imagined she would do. He hoped she hadn't cried too much for him, but maybe that was just him being selfish.

"Typical."

"She's got quite the temper, let me tell you that," John said ruefully. "You two are very much alike, you know."

"Don't say that," Rodney snapped. "We're nothing alike."

"What makes you say that?" John asked calmly, watching in now with one arm draped over the back of his seat and his legs crossed at the ankle.

"Because she's...she's a better person than I am. Always has been. When she was a kid..." Rodney broke off, biting back what he really wanted to say. "Maybe you should go."

John stood up, and for a moment Rodney thought he was actually going to leave. But he didn't. Instead, he walked over to where he stood and put a hand on his shoulder. Rodney tried to flinch away but John's hand just tightened on his shoulder.

"Just...leave me alone," Rodney gasped, wrenching away and backing up.

"Rodney..."

"You don't understand. You'll never understand...I just need...Just leave me alone!" Rodney managed through the tears that blurred his vision.

"Is that what you really want? To be alone?" John asked, watching him with those sharp eyes of his. Rodney's back hit the wall and he slid down it just as the tears started to fall.

"I don't know what to do anymore..." Rodney gasped. "There's all these...thoughts in my head and I can't...I don't know anything anymore."

John walked over to where he was collapsed in a miserable wreck of a heap and sat down next to him.

"I know."

That was enough of an admission to break him. The tears couldn't be stopped now. Rodney covered his face with shame, wishing he could just curl up and die as his shoulders began to shake.

"Hey. It's okay," John whispered as he pulled Rodney close and wrapped strong arms around him. "Just let it go, Rodney. I won't tell a soul. You're safe now."

Rodney dissolved in frustrated, angry tears, and all he could do was burrow his face into the chest of his closest friend. All the fear and pain and anger poured out in the form of harsh sobbing which he couldn't believe he was capable of. But John's arms were real and solid around him, a hand on his neck and a chin resting gently on his head were the only things Rodney was aware of.

And it felt good to cry and to be held for once. It was so rare for Rodney to be the one to break down. He'd never had the chance when he was young, not with parents too consumed with their own fighting to take any notice. He'd always been Jeannie's comfort provider, and he'd always felt that crying would make him weak and disappoint those around him.

But John would never judge him. A man who had seen it all and had the strength to face his demons still had the ability to be compassionate, and Rodney let go of all his pretensions.

Eventually, the tears started to dry up and Rodney started to calm. Beneath his ear he listened to the steady beating of John's heart and the rise of fall of his chest as he breathed. He felt warm and safe and sleepy but he didn't want to move and John didn't seem to mind.

The hand John had on his neck moved, the fingers twining themselves briefly in the hair at the nape of his neck before releasing and stroking the hair flat again. There was a deep exhale that ruffled Rodney's hair and he shifted a little, lifting his cheek from John's chest and leaning his forehead there instead. There was that warm, spicy scent that was uniquely John again, and he took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, feeling lighter than he had felt all week. His mind felt clear and unburdened for a change.

"Feel better?" John asked, and he nodded silently in response.

"Good. How about you get some rest? I'll come and get you in the morning for breakfast before the briefing."

"Okay," Rodney whispered, still not wanting to move.

John gently pushed him upright then helped him to his feet. He allowed himself to be led over to the bed and guided down onto the mattress. His eyes were closed before his head hit the pillow. John pulled the covers up over him as he started drifting to sleep, and he felt a hand touch his hair before he fell asleep.

Rodney stared at the active Stargate with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. The last time he had stepped through the bright blue event horizon it had been the beginning of a six month ordeal that he had no wish to repeat.

The mission was a simple meet and greet with a settlement that had long been friends and allies with the Athosians. Sheppard had assured him that it would be straight forward and hassle free, and Rodney had decided to trust his judgment. Besides, both he and Teyla were confident, and that was enough for him.

It felt a little surreal to have his pack strapped to his back once more, and his tack vest snug around his torso. The P-90 in his hands gave him some measure of security, but there was no telling what could happen out in the field, and Rodney for once, felt optimistic that this would help him. It was a step forward in the right direction and it felt right.

Ronon was fiddling with his gun a little way away and Teyla was beside him checking something in her pack as Rodney studied the gate. He had forgotten how beautiful the gate was, and all the possibilities that were behind its shining light.

"Okay guys. All set to go?"

Rodney turned to see Sheppard descending down the main staircase, decked out in his usual mission gear, and holding his gun like it was an old friend. And there it was again, that warm fluttering sensation in his stomach that had strengthened since that night three days ago. Rodney wanted to question it, to be afraid of it, but he just couldn't any longer.

John smiled at him before standing next to him.

"Okay?" he asked Rodney quietly.

"I think so," he nodded in response. "It feels..."

"Scary?" John supplied, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

"I was going to say...reminiscent," Rodney replied wryly. "But that too."

Sheppard grinned and patted him on the shoulder before stepping forward.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" he asked them. "If we get this done in time we can watch the next round of the foosball tournament."

Rodney watched as first Ronon stepped through, followed by Sheppard and Teyla, who had a fond, exasperated smile on her face. He glanced behind him to see Sam watching him from the balcony above.

"Good luck, Rodney," she called. "Be safe."

"Thanks," he murmured as he stepped through into the cold of the Stargate.

Much to Rodney's relief, the mission went as planned and they returned that evening. He'd hung back, reacquainting himself with Teyla's diplomatic skills, and Sheppard's leadership. Ronon remained as prickly and uninterested as he always had, and Rodney finally started to feel normal once more.

When they returned through the gate, satisfied with a mission gone right for once, they sat through a quick and simple debriefing before separating for the night, with promises to meet for breakfast.

Rodney dumped his pack on the floor next to his bed and collapsed on the bed to stare at the ceiling. Things were starting to go well, and the world was finally starting to right itself once more. A slow smile started to form on his face. Maybe it was time to start writing that letter to Jeannie.

"You know he's been as grumpy as a bear since you've been gone," Ronon said unexpectedly the next day.

They were once more walking through the field on P3X- 865 on their way towards the village they had visited the previous day. The leaders had agreed to negotiate a trade and arms deal with the city of Atlantis, and Sam had decided to send their team in again seeing as they were familiar and friendly faces.

Rodney didn't mind. The sun was warm on his face and the air was fresh and he could use the chance to stretch his legs. He'd spent the morning working in the labs on that pile of artifacts that didn't seem to be getting any smaller, and trying to ignore the incompetence of the younger scientists, but it wasn't easy. He found that it wouldn't be difficult to revert to the old Mckay, snapping and snarling from all the pressure and lack of sleep. He had to constantly rein his temper in and bite his tongue every time he was interrupted with stupid questions about the simplest things.

Doctor Heightmire was encouraging his efforts to try and be nicer to people, and while at times it seemed redundant and a waste of time, he could see her point. It wasn't easy though, and he found himself falling back into his old habits.

Rodney shook his head to clear it of his musings and focused once more on Ronon.

"Who?"

"Who'd you think?" Ronon asked in his 'what are you, stupid' voice. "Sheppard."

The Satedan nodded towards the subject of their conversation, who was walking up ahead with Teyla and the young woman acting of their guide. Rodney felt a flash of irritability and jealousy at the way John was smiling at her, then berated himself for being so petty. It wasn't as if John did it on purpose. Every time they went to new worlds and met new people, the charm came on automatically, and usually every woman he talked to fell under his spell and became infatuated. Rodney suspected that it always threw John whenever one of them made a move on him, as if he had no idea why they were doing so. He supposed it was inevitable, really. After all, no one could be that good looking and expect for there to be no consequences.

"And why's that?" Rodney asked distractedly, trying not to think about the way John's ass looked in those BDU's, or how tall he looked next to the two women walking with him. Instead, he averted his eyes and watched where he was putting his feet.

"Don't be daft, Mckay. I think we both know what I'm talking about," Ronon replied, rolling his neck and shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to limber up.

Rodney frowned, not sure he liked where this conversation was going.

"I uh...What?"

"Seriously, I know you might be close friends and all, but I know there's something more going on between the two of you. I'm not blind, though I suspect he is sometimes." Ronon speculated, his eyes narrowing.

Rodney looked up at his rough, dreadlocked friend beside him and stared, honestly not knowing how to respond. Ronon gripped his arm and steered him around a half hidden rock in the ground before releasing him once more.

"The real question is," he continued. "What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rodney muttered sullenly. Though he was only just starting to understand how he was feeling towards their team leader, he seriously doubted that Sheppard felt the same. The man was just being kind to him, supporting the weakest link in his team in order to keep them together and functioning. It made sense really, and if he'd been in Sheppard's shoes then he would have been doing the same.

"Drop the act Mckay," Ronon grumbled, scratching his arm. "The secret's out."

The village came into view, and Rodney had never been more relieved. His relief lessened when he saw the size of the welcoming committee, but even that was better than enduring what Ronon was saying to him.

"Look, I'm not saying this to piss you off," Ronon said to him as they drew closer to Sheppard and Teyla and their guide. "Just think about it, okay? All I'm saying is that I don't think it's as one sided as you think. Teyla agrees."

Rodney's jaw dropped and he stumbled to a halt, watching the large man as he ambled on behind Sheppard.

"You...what...Hey!"

He jogged to catch up and jostled Ronon's elbow as they rejoined the group.

"Whatever it is you think you know it's not true, okay? Just drop it! Nothing's going to happen to put either of you in danger so you don't need to worry about it, okay?" Rodney hissed. "And stop talking about me with Teyla."

"Whatever you say, Mckay." Ronon replied with a grin on his face.

Rodney huffed, earning curious looks from both Sheppard and Teyla. He muttered sullenly under his breath as he dug out his scanner. There were no signs of any kind of a power source, which wasn't really surprising, considering it was a small farming community. Still, their ancestors had once been associated with the Ancients, evidenced by some ruins lying several miles away in the foot hills, so anything was possible really.

As Rodney pressed buttons on the scanner and adjusted it's settings to see if he'd missed anything, he thought about what Ronon had said. The man could be infuriating at times, speaking in riddles that he rarely understood. Both Sheppard and Teyla seemed to understand what he meant though, which only frustrated Rodney further. The only way he'd ever been able to relate to the man was through their love of food.

"Rodney," Sheppard was speaking to him, amusement in his voice. He looked up in surprise and saw that Teyla and Ronon had moved away with the villagers. "You were a million miles away."

"Sorry. I was thinking," he muttered as he tucked the scanner away. About stupid Satedan's who need to mind their own business.

"Well, keep your thinking cap on because the villagers have agreed to let us look around those ruins we found before. Teyla and Ronon are going to stay here to start negotiating the trade deals while we go and check it out," John told him. "We only have a few hours though, because they're saying there's a storm on the way."

"What?" Rodney looked up at the sky. "How can they say that? There's not a cloud in the sky."

"Hey, don't ask me," John shrugged as they started walking side by side through the knee length grass towards the trees. "They're the one's who live here. Teyla seems to agree with them. Must be a spidey sense thing."

"Or it could be because they spend so much time outside getting their hands dirty," Rodney murmured as he looked around. It seemed like more of a dryer continent that the one the Athosians currently occupied, but then, Rodney had never been much of a meteorologist.

"Or it could be that," John agreed as they reached the tree line and started the slow trek up the gently sloping path. "So listen. I wanted you to know that I checked in on Jeannie a month or so ago when I was back on earth."

"You...You did? Why were you on earth?" Rodney asked, confused by this sudden revelation. He scrambled over a fallen log, following John as he led the way through a rocky incline.

There was a long silence on John's part, and Rodney was about to ask his question again when John paused briefly.

"My father died. I went back for the funeral and wanted to see how she was doing," he finally said before continuing on.

"Oh." Rodney frowned as he watched his footing. "I'm sorry. Were you close?"

"No, not really. Anyway, it's all in the past now. Nothing I can do to change it," came John's reply from behind a tree. Rodney jogged a little to catch up so they were walking side by side.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it. Still, it must be hard."

John's mouth hardened a little as he scanned their surroundings. It wasn't unusual for John to slip into protector mood whenever they were off on a little jaunt, even if there was no imminent danger. Rodney was used to it, and let the pauses and lapses in conversation pass him by wihtou comment.

"We hadn't really talked in a long time. My parents and I never really got along very well," John admitted. "Our relationship was rocky at best. But I did see my brother again."

"What about him? Do you get along well?"

John chuckled ruefully. "Didn't get along well with him for a few years, but we're getting better now."

"Well, that's something at least," Rodney said thoughtfully, thinking of Jeannie and how they hadn't talked in four years.

"Yeah, I guess it is."

They walked for a few minutes in silence, pausing when John helped Rodney up through another little incline of rocks. It was odd that the path wound its way through the rocks rather than around them, but he supposed it was the most direct way.

"I was the same with my parents," Rodney said as John released his arm and they kept climbing up the gentle slope. "My parents spent most of my childhood fighting with each other. Most of the time it was me and Jeannie who did things together. My mum died in a car crash when I was eighteen. Dad died fifteen years ago from cancer."

"Shit," John murmured.

"Tell me about it. My dad though, after mum died he kept going as if nothing had happened. He pushed me and Jeannie to do our best in everything, no matter the consequences, which was easy for him. He spent most of his time working. I looked after Jeannie and studied."

"So why did you fall out with Jeannie? Seems to me like you should have been closer than anything," John commented, pausing to wait for Rodney to catch up.

"Oh we were close when we were younger. She's a genius as math's, as you know, and when she started University she met Caleb and got pregnant, then dropped out and got married. It was mostly my fault that we stopped talking. One thing led to another and before I knew it four years had passed. I'm not sure if she'll ever forgive me for not being at her wedding, or being there when Madison was born." Rodney paused, feeling that familiar flash of sorrow he felt whenever he thought of his remaining family. "I wasn't ever an understanding kind of person. There are so many things I wish I..."

Rodney stopped talking, hating how vulnerable the whole thing made him feel. John had stopped walking and turned to face him slightly, something in his eyes making Rodney pause.

"I know what you mean. It's not like we can go back and change anything. We just have to live with it the best we can," John said slowly, and after a minute he resumed walking again, leaving Rodney confused in his wake.

He hurried to catch up again, feeling strange after witnessing a moment of such sorrow and regret from John.

"So...how was she?" Rodney asked. "When you visited her, I mean?"

"She was doing okay. She seemed tired, like she needed a break. Maddy's started the third grade, and Caleb's work has been tough on him lately. Honestly? I think she was missing you," John told him softly.

The news saddened Rodney, and he wished there was something he could do to make her feel better. That letter was still sitting on his desk in his quarters, half written.

"I've tried writing to her, you know? But what do you tell someone when you've come back from the dead?" he asked John's back. "I wish I could see her..."

"So why don't you?" John asked. "I'm sure Sam would let you. You can go through the gate and come back on the Daedelus."

"I can't...leave Atlantis yet. I don't think I can." Rodney replied. "It wouldn't feel right and I'm not….strong enough."

They were almost there. The Ancient ruins sat in a small clearing about halfway up the foot hills, sheltered by towering trees hundreds of years old and extending back into the hill side quite a way. It was a pretty journey from the village to the ruins, and Rodney had enjoyed the time alone with John more than he probably should have.

John stopped when they reached the small clearing.

"I think you're wrong," John told him, looking straight at him steadily. Rodney had to resist the urge the shift on the spot like small child caught doing something wrong.

"I think you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. After all, you've come through the last few months in one piece. And I'm sure Jeannie would love to see you."

Rodney smiled a little shy.

"Maybe."

John nodded, and looked around. "I'm going to check out those ruins before you go in then I'll scout the perimeter to make sure there's no unwanted visitors. Stay here."

Rodney watched as John disappeared between the ancient pillars and into the hill side before he exhaled and leaned against the tree behind him. It had been an intense conversation for him, sapping a lot of strength and making him feel a little weak and shaky. He felt a little too warm, a result of their walk no doubt, and he tugged his collar away from his neck as he looked around.

A few minutes later Sheppard reappeared from the entrance of the ruins.

"All clear, Rodney. Do your thing," he called. "I'm going to have a look around. Call me if you need anything."

Rodney hefted his pack a little higher and headed towards the columns of stone, feeling that familiar sense of excitement and eagerness he got whenever there was the potential for discovery.

It wasn't long before Rodney lost himself in his work, carefully recording both in words and on video the inscriptions on the walls. There was not much in the way of technology, but the writing on the walls could be anything, from gate addresses to information on ZPM's so he couldn't let one stone go unturned.

He was vaguely aware of Sheppard moving about quietly as he scouted the perimeter of the clearing, checking on Rodney every now and then but leaving him to his work. Eventually he sat down with his back resting against one of the stone pillars and his P-90 across his lap. His shades were on and he looked as relaxed and as sleek as a cat basking in the sun. Rodney tried his best to ignore him and focus on his work. The anthropologists would be salivating over his finds, he knew.

As he worked though, Rodney became aware of a twinge low in his belly which became more and more noticeable as time slipped by. He frowned over it initially, but dismissed it as indigestion or something similar. When it started turning into cramps he paused in his work and sat back on his heels.

Absentmindedly, he rubbed his stomach as he reached for his water bottle and a power bar. He was too hot, and sweaty, and the bright sunlight had started to hurt his head. As he stripped off his tack vest and then his jacket, Rodney started to feel light headed.

"Uh...Col...John?" he called, his voice sounding weak to his own ears. His vision suddenly tunneled and his ears rang unpleasantly as pain sliced through his head.

"Rodney?" John crouched in front of him quickly, grasping his shoulders. "Rodney what's wrong? Rodney! Shit, you're burning up….Put your head between your knees."

Sheppard gently guided him into position and Rodney sat, slumped there for a few minutes. Gradually, his vision righted itself and the ringing in his ears lessened, though his head pounded cruelly and his stomach continued to cramp mercilessly.

"That's it, buddy, deep breaths. Keep breathing Rodney." John murmured with one hand on his back.

Rodney groaned as the pain in his stomach worsened and his nausea rose.

"John?"

"I'm right here, buddy. You feeling any better?" he asked his concern evident in the tightness of his voice. "Do you need anything? More water?"

Rodney shook his head and swallowed thickly several times.

"I'm not feeling so good John," he whispered.

"I know, buddy. I'm going to radio Teyla and let her know what's going on. I don't suppose you can walk?"

Rodney shook his head; it was out of the question, as his vision was still spinning gently. He gulped again as his gorge in a vain attempt to keep his lunch down.

"Okay. I'm going to go out into the open for a minute, alright? I'll get Teyla to contact Atlantis and send medical help," Sheppard said quietly. "I'll be right back."

Rodney must have managed to grunt some kind of acknowledgement because Sheppard stood up and walked out into the middle of the clearing. He felt pitiful, aware only of the agonizing cramping and the pounding in his head and he was aware enough to roll to his hands and knees before vomiting violently on the grass. Thankfully, he had even sense left to roll clear of the mess before collapsing on his side. Through half lidded eyes, he watched disjointedly for a few seconds as Sheppard ran towards him before he finally gave into his dizziness.

Rodney woke feeling like something had crawled into his throat and died. He was too hot, his throat was dry and his stomach was sending stabbing pains throughout his abdomen. He must have made some sort of noise because John was at his side in an instant, his cool hand pressing against Rodney's forehead.

"Hey, hey, easy there," he soothed, keeping his voice low and quiet. "You're safe."

"Where'm I?" he mumbled, trying to raise his head. There was some kind of roaring noise in the back ground, and the light was funny, flickering in a way that hurt his eyes.

"We're at the ruins, remember? You feel ill. Just keep still for a moment, okay?"

"I 'member." Rodney relaxed back. "Why are we still here?"

"That storm the villagers warned us about came in early. It's too violent for us to go out there, or someone to send help, so we're stuck here until it blows over." John explained slowly.

Rodney closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to wet his throat.

"Here."

Something hard pressed against his lips, and Rodney opened his mouth obediently, keeping his eyes shut. Cool water trickled into his dry mouth and he swallowed gratefully, taking as much as he could before John pulled it away gently.

"How are you feeling? Any better?" John asked, and he listened as the cap was screwed on the bottle once more.

"Not really. It's too hot," Rodney muttered. Opening his eyes, he found he was covering in blankets and started to push them off.

"You're running a temperature Rodney," John explained to him patiently. "We've only got to hold out here a little longer and then we can get you back to Atlantis. How does that sound?"

"Good...really good," Rodney mumbled as he blinked his eyes tiredly. "Keller..."

"Yeah. Keller will be able to help. I'm sure she's looking forward to seeing her favorite patient again," John chuckled quietly as he leaned forward to brush sweat damp hair off his face.

"She'll...give me...the good stuff..." Rodney managed to say before sleep claimed him once more.

If anyone asked him later what he remembered about the long torturous hours stuck in that cave as the fever raged through his body, he would have replied that it was John.

Consciousness came in bursts, and sometimes he was aware enough to talk to John for a few minutes before dropping suddenly back into a restless sleep. Other times he woke only long enough to drink more water and mumble incoherently to himself before succumbing once more.

John told him later that after that first hour, when the weather worsened and the lightning lit up the sky, Rodney had become combative, struggling and calling out. At times, John had been forced to physically hold him down until he quieted.

Rodney remembered John moving around the cave as he drifted in a light doze. He'd spent a few long minutes standing at the entrance to the ruins and looking out into the rain before he'd move back and check on the small fire he'd lit. He'd gone through what supplies they had ten times over, apparently, in between pacing the length of their small shelter.

But always, Rodney remembered John being beside him whenever he awoke, talking to him quietly, giving him water when he asked and carefully wiping the sweat from his face. Steadily though, despite his efforts, Rodney had continued to deteriorate, and the time between each awakening lengthened until he hadn't woken up at all for the rest of the night. John had feared the worst.

All Rodney remembered was a terrible, burning pain, originating from his stomach and spreading throughout his body. He remembered crying from the pain at one point and pleading for John to put him out of his misery. John had sat by him, talking to him in soothing tones, telling him stories and letting the sound of his voice penetrate through his suffering and easing him back to sleep.

It had been a long night, and John hadn't slept a wink. Rodney woke up the next morning, still in the cave and still in pain, but it had dulled to a constant ache instead of fiery agony. His fever had abated somewhat as well, though he still felt too warm.

"Hey," John greeted him, looking exhausted and tense. "You're awake."

"Al..." he coughed as the words caught in his dry throat, and accepted the water John offered. He moaned as the violence of his coughing set of a wave of spasms in his tender stomach and took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as the pain faded once more into that dull aching. "Always stating the obvious, Sheppard."

John grinned at him. "Yeah well, it's been a tough night. Are you gonna hold it against me?"

"I'll think about it," Rodney murmured, closing his eyes once more.

"I hate to be asking the obvious, but how are you feeling? Are you still in pain?"

"Yeah..."

"How bad? On a scale of one to ten." Sheppard was sitting in front of him, his radio in his hands.

"Ten. But it's not as bad as last night," Rodney replied shakily.

"I thought as much. Your temperature's still there but it's a lot better than it was." John exhaled, a tired sound that made Rodney open his eyes. "You scared the hell outta me, Rodney."

"Sorry. You look like shit, by the way."

John laughed.. "Likewise, Mckay."

"So..." Rodney sighed, closing his eyes again as his body throbbed anew. "How's the weather?"

"It's a gorgeous day outside, storm clouds and cold winds. But the rain has stopped and there's no lightning or thunder around," John paused.

"And the cavalry?"

"Ronon and Teyla are on their way here with a few of the villagers. They should be here soon."

"Good." Rodney nodded. "That's good."

His breath hitched as a new wave of pain sliced through his abdomen and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter as a whimper escaped him involuntarily. Dimly, he was aware of a hand touching his softly, before wrapping around it. He squeezed back gratefully, welcoming the contact as a few helpless tears escaped.

"Rodney?" John's voice was softer, and gentler than he could ever remember it being.

"What's wrong with me?" he managed, his voice catching on a sob. "It hurts so bad..."

"I know. Just hold on a little while longer Rodney," something soft and a little moist brushed over the back of his hand. "It'll be over soon."

"You think I'm going to die?" Rodney managed, trying to smile. He opened his eyes and looked up at his friend. John looked so tired and worried that Rodney's heart ached for him, hating himself for putting someone he held so dear through such an ordeal. He hoped that it would be over with soon, as much for John's sake as for Rodney's.

"Not a chance in hell, Rodney," John growled as he reached out and brushed the tears off his cheeks. "You're more stubborn and resilient than anyone I know. There's no way you're getting out of this so easy."

"You think this is easy?" Rodney asked, with an incredulous laugh that made his chest and throat ache.

John grinned. "See? All you need is a little motivation to get through this. You can kick my ass as soon as you're better. Hell, I'll even give you a few free shots."

Rodney managed to roll his eyes and grunt, before his body rebelled and started to ache more fiercely. He closed his eyes and gripped John's hand more tightly.

"That's it, Rodney. Just breathe through it." John was murmuring. "Don't you go to sleep on me again, you ass. We were getting along so well."

"Nice...bedside manner you g-got going there...John," Rodney mumbled.

"Yea well, I was never meant to be a nursemaid, Mckay," John replied.

Rodney didn't manage to reply before he slipped into a light doze.

He was woken in what seemed like a few minutes later to quiet voices outside. This time, it was Teyla who was moving around their small shelter, packing up scattered supplies and putting out the remains of their fire. When she saw he was awake and watching her, she smiled and knelt down by him.

"Rodney. It is good to see you awake. You gave us quite the scare," she told him gently, touching his arm.

"Sorry."

"Don't encourage him," John's said as he joined them. "He'll only keep up the drama queen act for longer."

"Nice to see you too, Sheppard," Rodney muttered.

"How are you feeling, Rodney?" Teyla asked.

He was vaguely aware of voices and noise in the back ground, but chose to ignore it and tried to focus on what his team mates were saying.

"I'd feel a whole lot better if people stopped asking me that," he replied slowly. "Other than that...the pains...a nine."

Teyla frowned at John in confusion, but he only shook his head to her silent question.

"Better than it was a little while ago then," John surmised. "It would be best if we move him while the pain's not so bad."

"Cavalry arrived?" Rodney asked, closing his eyes as another wave of exhaustion hit him.

"I'll go and see how they're progressing with the stretcher," Teyla said, before getting up and leaving them alone.

"Yeah it has. I need you to try and stay awake for a little while, Rodney. Just for a little while, okay?" John asked, pressing his hand to Rodney's forehead briefly.

"Bloody nursemaid Sheppard." Rodney rasped, his throat sore and aching. John offered him water once more, which he accepted. "Keller should take you on in the infirmary."

"I doubt she'll have me," Sheppard responded with another one of those warm smiles. "I like guns and explosions too much."

"Hmmm."

"Stay awake Rodney. It's almost over," John told him, patting his shoulder gently. "Want me to tell you a story?"

"I'm not six, Colonel."

"Could've fooled me," Sheppard said as he looked over his shoulder. "Ah. It seems they're ready for us."

Rodney complied sleepily to John's gentle directions, letting Sheppard support him and help him to sit up and struggle into his jacket.

"I don't see why I need it," he grumbled, only half aware of what he was saying. "I'm too bloody hot already."

"You need to keep warm, Rodney." Sheppard said simply. "It's cold out there."

Rodney didn't have the energy to respond any more. He let Ronon and Sheppard lift him carefully onto the makeshift stretcher, made of stout looking branches and padded by several tick blankets. By the time he was settled and secured, and covered by a warm blanket, the pain had increased once more, and he closed his eyes against it, concentrating on his breathing as Sheppard had told him. All around him, noises faded in and out, the sound of people talking and movement came and going like waves breaking on the beach.

And then, suddenly, he was jolted. He started, his eyes shooting open, only to look up into John's face.

"Easy, Rodney," he murmured. "We're starting down the mountain now. It might get a little rough but we'll try our best to keep you still."

"I take it...you managed to rope the caveman into helping," Rodney whispered, closing his eyes against the nausea that the movement created.

There was a snort from somewhere in the vicinity of his feet, and above him Sheppard smiled in amusement.

"I did. But if you're not careful, he might actually drop you down the side of this hill." he replied in a stage whisper.

"Might? Try will," Ronon's rumbling voice spoke up.

"Better...shut up then, huh?" Rodney asked, his voice straining.

"It may be a wise idea. Just close you eyes and you'll be home before you know it," John told him. Rodney relaxed. He could trust John, he knew. John always kept his word, no matter how difficult, and he could rely on him to get him through.

"Home sounds good." he whispered as he closed his eyes.

"Doesn't it?" John said softly. "No place like home, right Rodney?"

"Right. All we need is the red slippers…."

Rodney woke again, feeling feverish and nauseous. For a few moments, he lay and watched the leaves move above him, wondering where he was. His head was spinning again, and he felt something familiar in his chest. He frowned, trying to remember how he recognized it

Before he could think, his stomach rebelled and he only just managed to lean over the side of the stretched before he vomited, his stomach clenching violently and his pain spiking to new levels of agony. He groaned as he collapsed back once more, and everything went funny for awhile again. Voices which were familiar were ringing out all around him and echoing unpleasantly.

"Oh shit..."

"Stop, we have to stop..."

"Hold on, Rodney. We're almost at the gate...Just a little longer..."

"Fuck, he's seizing..."

"Ronon, dial...gate...Teyla...him steady so he...hurt himself..."

And after that, nothing.

TBC

TBC