Note: Before you read the first part of this chapter, let me remind you I am NOT in the medical field. If you are and you see any major mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them. Thanks guys!!!!!

Going Home - Chapter 7

John followed the nurse into the exam room, noting the gown and sheet already laid out on the exam table. The tall blonde, her long hair in a braid, nodded toward the bed.

"How about taking a seat and I'll get your blood pressure." John eased himself up on the side of the bed as she grabbed the blood pressure cuff from the counter. He sat quietly while she took and recorded his pressure, pulse, and temperature.

"Okay, Colonel, if you'll just slip out of your shirt and pants and into the gown, Dr. Shoemaker will be with you shortly. Do you need any help?"

John fingered the edge of the blue gown. "No, I can get it. I thought he was just looking at my shoulder and ribs."

The nurse smiled warmly. "No, he needs to check on your leg wound as well. Dr. Lam said you'd had a nasty infection there for a while and wanted him to be sure everything still looked alright."

"Oh, okay." John hated being sick or injured. Being poked and prodded was barely bearable when you knew the medical staff, but just weirded him out when it was complete strangers. That was one thing that had always bothered him about the constant moving around required by a career in the military.

The nurse seemed to sense his discomfort. "Dr. Shoemaker served over a year in Iraq treating our guys, so he has lots of field experience. He's really very good. You can talk to him about any concerns you have and he'll give you an honest answer. I think you'll like him."

John brought his eyes up slowly to meet hers. "Am I that obvious?"

"You just seem a bit uncomfortable. Was that your father with you, in the waiting room?"

John nodded. "Yes, I'm staying with him for a few days before I go back. I just think all of this was unnecessary. I can make it a few days without being under some doctor's thumb." John shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded. I'll be fine."

"It's okay, I think I know what you mean. We'll give you a few minutes to get changed." She nodded one more time and then closed the door. John sighed and began removing his sling. Way to make a good first impression, John.

Several minutes later, he worked himself back to sit on the edge of the exam table, his shirt and pants folded up in the chair next to the wall and his shoes underneath. At least he still had his boxers on. The room was chilly, so he opened the sheet as best he could with one hand and spread it over his legs.

A few minutes later, he was getting tired and his arms had goosebumps. After breakfast, he'd had his father drive him to the beach and they had taken a short walk. He'd enjoyed watching the surfers and wished fervently he had been out there with them. By the time they got back home, they barely had time for a sandwich before heading to the appointment. John hadn't been hungry after the waffles, so he'd only eaten half a sandwich, much to his father's disappointment. He was thankful he'd kept lunch light since it had settled like a boulder in his stomach.

John finally eased himself to lie down against the pillow, working the sheet up over his arms. He really wanted to get this over with. He closed his eyes, thinking about how much he was starting to miss Atlantis. When it was still and quiet, like now, he was almost painfully aware of the missing hum in the back of his mind, of the presence that seemed to be with him every minute of the day. It was a very lonely feeling and he realized he never wanted to come back to Earth permanently. It was like he'd left a big part of himself in another galaxy.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John opened his eyes to find the blonde nurse and a man about his age with short, brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses looking down at him and smiling. He suddenly realized he must have dozed off.

"Yeah, uh, sorry."

The nurse smiled and patted his arm. "It's okay, I can't blame you. We had a little hold up and it took longer that we expected."

John noticed her nametag for the first time. Nancy. "No problem. It's not like I have a heavy schedule or anything." He started to sit up, but the doctor placed a hand firmly on his good shoulder, stopping him.

"You can just stay put for a few minutes and I'll check your leg and ribs first. I received some records for your current injuries from Dr. Lam and I've reviewed them, along her specific requests. Have you had any problems since seeing her?"

John hesitated, rubbing his face with his good hand. He dreaded telling about the incident at the high school, but he knew his dad would check to make sure he had. He let his hand drop to his side. "Well . . . there was one little thing." He gave a brief account of the skirmish that had taken place the day before as the doctor listened carefully and made a few notes in his file.

"Have you had any pain that seemed unusual or worse than what you were having?" the physician asked, his expression more serious than John liked.

"No, not really. I think I may have picked up an extra bruise or two, but that's it."

The doctor nodded and made notes again before looking back to his patient. "What about nausea or vomiting?"

John paused and the doctor sighed. "Okay, I'll take that as a yes. Have you vomited and how many times?"

John let out a long breath. "Twice, but I think it had more to do with nightmares than physical injury. I had breakfast and lunch today and did okay."

The doctor nodded, looking a little relieved. "I'll just double check that you aren't showing any signs of further injury. Anything else? Have you been feeling feverish or anything?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Good. Have you been taking the antibiotic?"

John nodded. "Yeah, I think I take my last pill tonight."

The doctor scanned the file in front of him, shuffling through the papers a minute. "Okay, yes, that should be right. What about headaches, dizzy spells, any blackouts?"

"I still get headaches, but not too bad. Sometimes I get dizzy for a few seconds when I first stand up, but it clears up pretty quickly."

"That could be partly from the medication or the fact that you've still got a lot of healing to do. You're body is still under quite a strain. Okay, let's just have a look at you then. I think I'll start with the leg. Any problems there?"

"No, just still kind of sore."

The doctor pulled the sheet and gown away from his thigh, exposing a fresh, pink scar from the bullet wound and another from the surgery that followed. John forced himself to relax as the doctor began to probe the area.

"This looks good, no sign of recurring infection. Looks like your little tussle didn't reopen anything, although I do think I see some new bruising." He pulled the gown back over the leg and then replaced the sheet. John relaxed a little. Even though the skin of his leg was healed, the surrounding area still seemed tender to the touch, he supposed because of the underlying muscle damage.

John tried to distract himself with thoughts of what else he wanted to do while he was home while the doctor probed his ribs and abdomen, occasionally asking questions about the level of pain or discomfort. It felt like it took forever and he knew the doctor was taking extra care because of the fight. He found himself relieved when Dr. Shoemaker announced that he'd found no new breaks or any sign of internal bleeding.

"I think I'd still like to get an x-ray to compare to your old one, just to be sure I didn't miss anything." He made a few more notations and then set the file down. "Okay, let's sit you up so I can have a look at that shoulder."

John was silently grateful for the help as both the doctor and nurse each eased a hand beneath his back and helped him sit up. Most of his torso was on fire from the exam and he wasn't entirely sure he could have made the move unaided. Nancy then helped as he twisted around to hang his legs off the side of the table.

"Thanks for the assist," he said, giving her his lop-sided grin. "If you ever get tired of working here, I know a place that could use your smile."

Nancy just smirked and pursed her lips slightly. "Are you flirting with me?"

"I would never do such a thing," he said lightly, all the time hearing Rodney's chastising voice in his head.

"Too bad," she said slyly, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Dr. Shoemaker cleared his throat, his expression a little stern, but his eyes giving him away. "If you two are done now, I'd like to finish our exam so we can get the Colonel to x-ray. You can trade phone numbers later."

John and Nancy both chuckled as Dr. Shoemaker began pulling the gown down and away from John's left shoulder.

oOo

"Colonel Sheppard?"

Joe looked up to see the blonde nurse that had called for John over an hour ago. He stood as she reached him, worry beginning to trickle through him. "Is John all right?"

"Yes, he's fine," she said, the gentle nature of her voice putting him at ease. "He sent me to see if you wanted to join him in Dr. Shoemaker's office. He thought it might put your mind at ease if you heard what the doctor had to say."

Joe nodded as he finished relaxing. "Yes, thank you, I'd like that." He followed the girl through a set of double doors and down a couple of hallways, before being ushered into an office. An L-shaped bookcase was in the corner behind a large, neatly organized desk. Two cushioned chairs sat on the opposite side of the furniture with a small wooden table between them.

"You can wait here. Lt. Colonel Sheppard will be along as soon as he finishes getting dressed and Dr. Shoemaker will be here shortly." She nodded toward the chairs and then left. Joe went to the second chair and sat down. He'd just begun scanning the titles of the many books on the shelves when a man in a while coat entered the room.

"Hello, Colonel, I'm Dr. Shoemaker," he said, holding out his hand. "I see Nancy found you all right."

Joe shook the man's hand and nodded. "Yes, she did. I appreciate you letting me sit in like this. Sometimes John can be . . . a little hesitant to tell me everything that's wrong."

Dr. Shoemaker smiled. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but there's a note in his file that says pretty much the same thing. That's one reason why I backed up the exam I did with x-rays."

John limped into the room just as the two men were taking a seat. "Talking about me behind my back, I see. That's so not fair."

"That's more or less your fault," said Joe.

John eased himself into the chair, wincing as he moved. When he was seated, he relaxed into the chair, letting out a slow breath as he did. Joe frowned slightly, recognizing the signs of pain and exhaustion his son was beginning to exhibit. He realized they had been on the go since early that morning.

"Okay, Colonel, basically everything looks good. No signs of infection and the injuries seem to be healing as expected. Dr. Lam expressed some concern about a few of the more severe burns, but the inflammation appears to have cleared up quite a bit since her observations were made. And the only thing I see as a result of your little impromptu wrestling match is a few new bruises and possibly a slight reopening of one of your rib fractures. It's a faint difference between now and the old x-ray, so I can't even be sure of that. Your shoulder looks good and you seem to be getting a little better mobility. Once you get back and get into a physical therapy program, that should improve greatly. You need to continue to take it easy and avoid any more strenuous activity, like fights." Shoemaker winked at Joe, who grinned and nodded his approval.

John winced. "Yeah, I'll try to do that."

The doctor sobered as he studied John critically. "You do need to rest and eat more. You've actually dropped a few ounces from your last exam and I know you're tired." He smiled slowly. "The little nap in the exam room tells me that. If you need help sleeping, I can prescribe something. Your file indicates you were having a problem with nightmares and it seems you still are. We have people you can talk to, as well, if you want me to set something up."

"No, I'm good. If I'm still having trouble when I go back, I'll talk to our doctor."

The doctor nodded. "Let me know if you have any problems, any increase in the headaches, dizziness, or pain levels. I also want to know if the vomiting continues. You don't need to lose any more weight and you're borderline anemic now."

John suddenly felt thin and frail as he looked down at the way his clothes hung on him. He'd had to cinch his belt up an extra couple of notches since getting out of the infirmary and it bugged him to no end. It was going to take a lot of work to build back the muscle he'd lost. He almost smiled at the thought of Ronon being his taskmaster, telling him to quit whining and run. He knew it would be hard and painful and yet he looked forward to it because he knew it would bring him back to where he needed to be.

"John?"

Images of Atlantis faded and John looked around at his dad. "What?" The doctor was also looking at him peculiarly. "Uh, sorry. Let my mind wander for a minute." He smiled sheepishly and looked down at his fingers picking at the sling.

Dr. Shoemaker stood. "You have my number. Please call if you need anything or you have any questions. And Colonel Sheppard, you need to go home and rest. Doctor's orders," he said as he smiled.

"I'll take care of that," said Joe as he also stood and then reached out to help John. John stubbornly ignored the hand and pushed himself up to join the others in standing. "Thank you, doctor," Joe said as he turned back to face Dr. Shoemaker, once again shaking the man's hand.

"Thanks, Doc," said John, reaching out to grip the physician's hand. "Don't worry, I don't plan on doing much more than eat, sleep, and watch a little TV."

"Couldn't have suggested a better schedule myself," quipped the doctor. "Seriously, take care of yourself." He nodded down to the file on his desk. "I get the impression you've got some people that care what happens to you."

John grinned, the strange tingle in his chest surprising him. "I do."

oOo

John sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his head and trying to lick his dry lips with a tongue that felt covered in fuzz. His head felt strange and his body disconnected. After a few minutes, the need to visit the bathroom overrode the lethargy in his limbs and he forced himself to stand. He swayed a bit, but the room never really did the spinning thing he had come to expect and that made him smile. Things were looking up.

He almost changed his mind when he started moving across the room. Stiff, sore muscles and new bruises all cried out for attention as he stumbled forward. But by the time he emerged from the bathroom, the stiffness was abating and the bruises were beginning to calm down and his hope was renewed. It hadn't seemed to take as long to get loosened up as before.

He shuffled through the living room on his way to the kitchen, still not feeling fully awake. His father sat on the couch, the recliner seat leaned back. The TV was on, but Joe's eyes were closed and his mouth open slightly. John smiled, noting that he wasn't the only one who had needed a nap after their day of running around. He finished his slow limp to the kitchen and decided they could both use a cup of coffee. John sat at the table and looked at the newspaper while the coffee brewed, enjoying the smell as he listened to the muffled gurgling noises. When it was finished, he poured them both a cup and headed for the living room..

Joe was lowering the recliner when John entered the room with the steaming cups, setting one on the coffee table in front of his father. Joe sniffed and grinned. "I knew I smelled coffee. You read the old man's mind."

John transferred the cup in his left hand to his right so he could maneuver better to set it down. His injured arm had barely been able to support the weight. "I guess in this case it was like father, like son," John proclaimed proudly, broadening the smile on his father's face. They both looked up at the sound of someone knocking.

"I can get it," offered John, since he was still standing. Making his way carefully over to the door, he pulled it open to find a woman slightly shorter than himself, with short brown hair and dark brown eyes and a big smile. She was wearing kaki capris and a blue t-shirt that proclaimed "Be nice to nurses, you never know when you'll need them". A pie loosely covered with plastic wrap was in her hands.

"Hi, I'm Mary Cravens from across the street. Is Joe here?"

John stepped back to allow the woman in about the same time his father called, "Mary, come on in here!"

John noticed his father was getting to his feet as Mary stepped in and held the pie up. "Guess what I've been doing?" she sing-songed.

Joe's eyes lit up like Christmas lights. "Chocolate?"

Mary nodded as she automatically headed for the kitchen. "Yep. You know when I make my chocolate pie, I always make one for you. I can't miss out on all those flattering things you say when I bring it over." She set the pie on the table and turned to face Joe and John, who had followed her into the room.

Joe nodded toward John. "Mary, this is my son John. He's got some leave time from the Air Force, so he's staying with me a few days. John, this is Mary Cravens, the maker of the absolute world's best chocolate pie."

Mary grinned. "There's that flattery I came for." She looked John up and down and John thought he detected a hint of worry, making him realize how much he was slouching. He straightened up a bit, trying to shake the lingering grogginess.

"Nice to meet you, Mary. If you've got Dad wowing over your pie, then I can't wait to try it."

Joe smiled and nodded. "You'll want to eat the whole thing. Hey, Mary, we just made some fresh coffee. How about joining us for a cup."

Mary lifted her nose up as if smelling the air and let out a long sigh. "Hmmm, I thought I smelled fresh coffee. You know I can't resist that." When Joe headed for the pot, she waved him away. "You sit down and let me help myself. Don't be treating me like company, Joe Sheppard."

John watched her go directly to the right cupboard and pull down a cup. "Uh, I'll go get our cups from the living room."

Joe shook his head and took John by his good arm, giving him a slight push toward the table. "No, go sit and I'll get them. You made the stuff and brought me a cup and you're the one supposed to be resting. Now sit." Without waiting on a reply, Joe disappeared into the living room.

By the time John was sitting, his dad had returned with the two cups of coffee and joined him at the table. Mary sat down next to him and breathed in heavily as she held the cup up to her face. John smiled, thinking of the way Rodney had acted when they had finally reestablished contact with Earth and received fresh coffee supplies. For the next week, Rodney would sit inhaling the vapors for several minutes each time he poured a new cup.

"What?" asked Mary, frowning playfully at him.

"Nothing," John said sheepishly. "You just reminded me of someone else who really enjoys their coffee."

"Hey, it's the most important food group."

John and Joe laughed, but both of them also nodded. No arguments there. John knew there had been times when its consumption kept them going through some very intense days. "Coffee and adrenalin, what would we do without them?" he murmured.

Mary set her cup down and looked across the small table at Joe. "I'm so glad you found him. Jack and I were worried about you." She patted Joe's hand a few times before pulling her hand back to her mug.

Joe let his head fall forward for a few seconds before lifting it to look at John and then at Mary. "Thank you. He just . . . showed up on my doorstep a few days ago, like he'd been reading my mind." He smiled at John. "Looks like I'm getting that second chance I was wishing for."

"Okay, I have a confession," said Mary. "I saw him arrive the other day, all dressed in his uniform and everything. I've been dying to know if it was your son or if you were just taking in strays."

John choked on the coffee he'd been sipping and coughed for what seemed like forever before he got it under control. "Dad . . . taking in strays?"

Mary frowned and shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, so I didn't necessarily think that was happening. Hey, I made pie. Give me a break."

Joe looked at the pie in the center of the table. "You know, maybe we should try the pie, just to make sure it's okay."

John nodded and grinned. "I think that's an excellent idea."

Mary pulled the pie a little closer to her. "And have you boys had supper?"

Joe and John looked guiltily at one another and then back at Mary. "Okay, maybe just a small piece," said Joe. "You know, just a taste."

Mary looked at them a few seconds and then sighed. "I'll get the plates."

oOo

"Mary's really nice," said John, leaning the recliner back and moaning slightly as he stretched out and relaxed. "She makes a heck of a chocolate pie, too."

Joe grunted in agreement as he picked up the TV controls and turned the set on. "Have to agree with you there. Guess you figured out she's a nurse, an RN at the base hospital. Her husband, Jack, does some kind of consulting stuff for the Air Force, although I never completely understood what. Something with computers. They moved in about three years ago and they've been really good neighbors." Joe chuckled. "I thought she would nurse me to death when I was going through my cancer treatments. They're . . . they're good people."

John nodded. "Guess maybe I need to thank her for looking out for you then. Having friends and . . . just having people that care for you when you're down . . . it can make all the difference." John felt a sharp pang of homesickness when he thought of his team sitting by his bedside, keeping vigil when he needed their strength. Sometimes putting a little distance between you and what was important made you appreciate it so much more.

"I know," Joe said quietly.

"Don't say it," said John when he saw Joe looking his way, regret almost radiating off him. "We've been there and talked about it. We're done with that part . . . the apologizing and stuff."

Joe took a deep breath and looked for a moment like he might argue, but finally nodded. "Okay, you're right. I'm . . . I'm just glad you found friends . . . . you know, people to help you through the rough patches."

John smiled as he looked back to the TV screen. "Me too. Okay, what's on TV?"

Joe reached over and picked up a second controller. "Tonight, I have a special treat. A friend of mine has a son that's a football coach and he records all kinds of college and pro games to look for things he can show his kids. I borrowed some of his DVDs of especially good games over the past couple of years. You interested?"

John's eyes widened and a big grin broke out, spreading across his face. "Football? You bet."

"Like I said, some things never change," said Joe as he hit the play button.

oOo

John sat up abruptly, panting and shivering as the cool air brushed his sweaty skin. His eyes darted around the dark room for several moments before the moonlight revealed enough of the room for him to realize where he was. He let out a deep breath through his mouth, telling himself to calm down, that he was safe.

"John, you okay, son?"

John shifted his gaze to the partially open door, his father standing on the threshold as the shaft of light from the window illuminated the left side of his face, leaving the right side in shadows. He could see the man's brow was furrowed, his jaw taunt with worry.

"I'm okay, Dad. Just a nightmare." John was dismayed at the slight tremble to his voice, revealing his deceit.

Joe paused in the doorway, obviously uncertain of what to do. "Okay. I . . . I heard you yell and I was afraid that . . . We can talk, you know, if you want to."

John swallowed. A tiny part of him wanted his father to stay with him, at least for a few minutes. The part that had learned that sometimes you should be afraid of the dark. But he was an adult, not a child. And he refused to ask his father to sit with him and protect him from things that go bump in the night. "No, I'm okay, really. But . . . thanks."

John made himself lay back down, watching as his father slowly closed the door and backed into the hallway. Looking up at the ceiling, he refused to acknowledge the shadows moving across the wall. He reminded himself they were trees swaying in the wind, not Wraith stealing through the woods to take him and his team. He only wished he could make himself believe it.

TBC