Hi there! Finally this story will continue. I'm well aware that some of you have been waiting for this for a very long time now. I'm sorry but I've been ill and inbetween doctors appointments and hositaly stays I haven't felt very creative - especially writing about hospitals stays... So let's get John out of there!

Now edited! Thanks to crytaltears 24. All remaining mistakes are mine.

John's POV

With his brother moving out, being in the hospital was just as boring as always.

John had spent some time trying to get over his handicap at a virtual golf course on the laptop provided to him by his family, but, without someone to gloat to when he won - and he had really outdone himself this morning - the game lacked the appeal it had while Evan was still sharing the room with him. Now John hoped for a quick recovery, starting with his appointment this morning. If it went well, he'd be released. His dislike for hospitals resurfaced with the absence of his baby brother.

On the upside, his mother would be here soon, since she promised to accompany him to his examination. They had spent a wonderful weekend together, taking small walks in the hospital park and catching up. John had found himself opening up to her as easily as he had as a child.

John let his mind drift to a conversation he'd had with his mother the other day.

"So, John," his mother had said, smiling at him. "Tell me about your team. You and Rodney are good friends?"

John nodded. "Yeah. But see, when we met, Rodney wasn't very impressed with the military, even though he'd been working with them for quite some time. If I remember correctly, he liked to call us 'Neanderthals' - especially the Marines."

She looked at him. "That challenged you, didn't it?"

"I might have shown off my math skills," John replied with a casual shrug.

"Oh, I bet you did," His mother exclaimed, laughing.

"Couldn't resist," John chuckled, joining her laughter. He remembered the first time he met Rodney and the astonished look on the other man's face when he had easily dropped the right answer to a complicated computation. "We grew on each other," he added.

"What about the other members of your team?"

"Ronon joined last. He prefers to act rather than to talk - just ask Dave. He and Ronon met at Dad's funeral." He trailed off, and, when John didn't continue, his mother turned to look at him in time to catch the pained look on his face before he could hide it. He took a deep breath. This was his mother. He didn't need masks around her.

Sure, he was glad that he and Dave were getting along better since their talk after the funeral and these past few days have seen incredible improvement in their relationship but his old wounds still hadn't completely healed, especially not his relationship with his dad. It might be his biggest regret, failing to mend things.

Taking his mother's silence as an invitation to continue, John wrestled with himself. Despite regaining more of her memory over the course of the last few days, it still came in bits pieces, and John knew his mother was struggling to put the puzzle together. Should he tell her? He had tried to help her - still will. But right now? Right now, he needed to let go himself and let his mother be there for him like she used to. With a deep inhale, he began to talk. His mom listened without interruption.

When he finished, she didn't try to reassure him and simply started to recount the memories of his dad that she remembered.

"Yesterday, I remembered something from when you were little. We had invited people over for a barbeque, but you got bored and wandered off. When the food was ready, we sent Dave to look for you. Next thing we knew, Dave was screaming your name. Your father turned paler than I'd ever seen him and ran to find you boys. When we finally reached you, you were lying under the oak tree beside the stables, clutching your left arm with Dave kneeling at your side. Your father picked you up when you began to cry, and he held you so tight. Dave took my hand as we walked, and he kept asking if you were okay."

John tried to remember the incident, but he only recalled breaking his arm that summer. Everything else was a blur. It was nice to hear his mother telling him to his dad's softer sides, which he had such a hard time to remember.

His mom continued. "Your dad told everyone to go home, then we drove to the hospital. He was so worried that you were hurt worse than we thought. I recall him checking on you and Dave every night before we went to sleep that summer."

"I don't remember that," John said. Thoughtful, he added, "…I don't remember him forbidding me to climb that tree, either."

"He never wanted to tame your adventurous side as a kid."

John hummed in acknowledgement, then said quietly, "He got me a cool pocket knife once."

"Oh, I remember that!" His mother exclaimed, another little piece falling into place. "It was a red Swiss one, wasn't it?"

Glancing over at his mom, John wondered whether she missed his dad now that she remembered more of him. The fact that he asked her before he could talk himself out of it proved just how much his guard was down.

"Mom?"

"Huh?"

"I was wondering…do you miss him, mom?"

His mothers's expression grew sorrowful. "I do, John."

John squeezed her hand, hoping to comfort her. He couldn't even begin to understand what it was like for her.

A knock on the door startled John out of the memory, back into the present. He walked over to the door and opened it to see his mother.

"Hi," she greeted with a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm good, Mom," he replied, stepping to join her outside. "Let's get this appointment over with."

"So, Mr. Sheppard," the lung specialist began, turning from his computer screen to address John. "Everything looks good. There's nothing here that has me worried. You did well at the lung function test earlier. You'll still have to do the breathing exercises regularly, but, otherwise, you're free to go."

John grinned, relieved that he could finally leave this place. He looked to his mom and her broad smile at the news.

"But…"

Of course, John groaned internally, bracing himself. Of course there'd be a "but".

"…you'll have to get regular checkups, and your physicians on base will decide when you're clear for duty."

'Oh, that!' He could live with that. It was SOP for every other injury he got in service.

"I will," John affirmed the demand shortly already standing in his wish to leave. In reality he had no intention to stay true to this promise. Not if he could find a way out of it.

"Thanks for everything, Doc." They shook hands, and then John was out of the examination room as quickly as possible without being rude.

"John!" his mother called a couple seconds later, laughing as she chased after him. "You sure are eager to get out of here, aren't you?"

"You bet!" John replied, waiting for her to catch up. He should have known that she'd want to talk more with the doctor.

"Okay, then how about we pack your stuff, get your release papers, and get on our way. Will we still make it to Dave's?"

John looked at his wristwatch. "We should be there by evening."

They returned to his room, where John began to pack his stuff in his duffle bag while his mother set out to get his release papers.

"John? You finished?" she asked once she came back.

John nodded. "All packed."

"Did you remember to get your toothbrush?"

'She didn't just asked that, right?'

John was glad nobody was there to witness this. He felt like a child again - especially since he had indeed forgotten all about his toiletries in his rush to leave this dreadful place. Perhaps he was a little bit unjust since the stuff at been nice but he couldn't help his dislike for Hospitals. John blushed at his mother's knowing smirk.

"Your dad always forgot his on his trips. I remember having to buy new ones often."

John couldn't believe his father was so forgetful on a regular basis, but he liked it. It reminded him that his father had been only human, after all.

After getting his toothbrush and saying goodbye to the staff, they were finally on the road to see Dave.