AN: I know (sorry Emrys LOL!) that you all were waiting for updates and wondering where we went, but Halloween kept us both busy, Shelly and I both had to do that mom thing with the kids. Anyway, there've been some very deep comments, and I've been emailing with Shelly to discuss them. Here's our take on this. Sheppard's reactions are very much anger over his body being derailed without his choice, and not being able to do his job. He doesn't feel raped so much as used. As far as the teasing and lack of sympathy - it is there, more so in the beginning but also in what they are doing for him. The joking isn't all to be uncaring, it's also a way of trying to get him to lighten up and come out of his funk, and even make him laugh at his circumstances. The guy's depressed and Shep needs to see the lighter side of things, but also, not everyone is good with their feelings. McKay, we all know, is not. He's a deep feeler, but a blunderer when it comes to social skills. His idea of supporting Sheppard is being there through these pregnancy things. And Teyla - look back to Letters From the Pegasus Galaxy, and you'll see that she doesn't look at the bigger picture all the time. She's got blind spots. Anyway, hope this answers some of the issues brought up, and feel free to keep the discussion on these points going! And one last note on the 'slashy' moments, hmmmm - how about 'don't ask, don't tell'.

(ducking from the rotten fruit now)

NOT THE DADDY...part 20

Pregnancy clock: 6 months, 3 weeks

When John woke up he was belt free and, after a quick check at his hand, IV free. He felt a sense of relief that was quickly wiped out by a flare of pure panic. One hand pressed to his abdomen, John called out, "Beckett!"

Carson was there in the blink of an eye, pressing John back into the pillows. "Easy, Colonel...easy. What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No...no…I'm fine!" John realized he was fine but the panic remained. "The baby...the baby is okay, right?"

"Aye...the baby is doing just fine now." Carson patted John's shoulder, offering a warm smile. "You did the right thing and everything is fine."

Relief washed over John in waves, leaving him feeling a little lightheaded. Then he realized he had to pee and he pushed back the covers.

Carson stopped him. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, using his stern doctor's voice.

"Bathroom run, Doc," John replied, pushing Beckett's hand away. John stood up, wobbled a bit, got his balance and turned towards the bathroom. "Oh...I can leave now, right?" he asked, before heading off.

"Not yet," Carson replied. "You'll be my guest for a few more days. I need to keep an eye on you and the wee one."

John opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. He had made the choice to help the baby, he wasn't going to screw things up now. At least not any more than it already felt like he had. So he simply nodded then made his way to the back. "I'm going to shower," he called over his shoulder, knowing that a nurse would drop off some clean scrubs for him. Then he jumped when a hand settled on his arm. It was Beckett.

Smiling at John's surprise, Carson nudged him along. "I'm just making sure you're steady on your feet. You've been through a lot in the past few days, Colonel."

"Yeah...guess so," John mumbled. He wasn't quite ready to deal with the full implications of what he had done and what it meant in the long run. John still wasn't sure how he felt about what had happened. It had happened so damn fast and, like everything else since he had become bonded with Dreya, it had happened without him being in control. That's what he hated most of all about his condition. The lack of his control over anything that was happening and the fact that his body felt foreign to him. Heaving a sigh, John pushed away those thoughts. He had reached the bathroom and he tugged free of Beckett's grip. "I can handle it from here," he assured the Scot.

"I'll get some scrubs," Carson said. "Call me when you're ready to come back to bed. We'll get you settled in then we'll do a quick check up and then get you something to eat."

John rubbed his flat belly, still not used to it being so flat when it was insisting to him that a huge belly was in the way. "Yeah...I could eat," he allowed.

Carson nodded. "You need to eat. Once this is over we're going to do something about seriously fattening you up." A smile and a pat on John's shoulder and Carson headed off, ignoring the scowl aimed at him.

Deciding that peeing was more important than arguing the merits of his weight with Beckett, John let the doc go and moved into the bathroom to take care of business. That done, he stripped off his scrubs and got into the shower. Like always, John didn't linger. He didn't want to feel changes in his body that weren't really there. It messed with him to see the same body as always but have his mind insisting that it was different. So he washed up, rinsed off, got dried and dressed. He realized he hadn't even heard anyone slip in with the clean scrubs. Once dressed John took a moment to towel dry his hair and run his fingers through it. When he did that he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

He looked different. John blinked hard then stared again. He looked thinner and there was something haunted in his eyes yet, at the same time he looked...glowing. John hated it when Rodney used that word around him but he couldn't think of any other word to describe himself at the moment. John grimaced and turned away. He really did not want to do this anymore. As if reading his mind, Traitor gave John a hearty kick for his thoughts. John reacted on instinct, hand coming up to rub his belly. "Sorry, kiddo..." he whispered. "Nothing personal. I'm just all kinds of fucked up at the moment."

John might have allowed himself an impromptu pity party, only a knock on the door jolted him out of it.

"Colonel," Called a female voice, no doubt a nurse. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine!" John shot back, his tone a bit sharp. He was tired of being babied all the time. "I'll be out in a minute!" He listened for her footsteps to retreat and only then did he make a move towards the door. Still feeling a bit sorry for himself, John headed back to his bed only to find he had a visitor. Dreya.

She had been pacing a bit but seemed to sense him. She turned as he approached and smiled. "Colonel Sheppard, how are you feeling?"

He stared at her instead of replying, eyes locked on her swollen belly. It was, scarily, familiar. It was everything he expected to see whenever he looked at himself. Only then realizing she was waiting for a reply, he whispered, "Been better. You?" He couldn't quite clear the attitude from his voice.

"I am well, thank you," Dreya replied, sincerely.

"Good." John was still too sharp but he meant it. He had more to say but Beckett bustled over to him, pushing him towards the bed.

Drawing the covers over John, Carson stated, "A quick check then you can visit with Dreya." He did his readings, quickly and efficiently, asked a few questions then pronounced John as, "Doing well. You can visit for a bit," he added, eyeing John sternly. "Then I want you to rest."

John nodded, eyes still locked on Dreya. "Sure, whatever." Then Beckett was gone and John blurted out," Shouldn't you be in bed?" By rights what had happened had, actually, happened to her.

"Dr. Beckett said I am fine and just to be careful," Dreya replied.

"Are you going back to Eradia?" John almost crossed his fingers as he waited for her response. Only he wasn't sure what he wanted her to say.

Dreya shook her head. "Everyone has convinced me that it is best that I stay here until the baby is born. Had you not been so strongly bonded to me, the baby would have been born prematurely and it is doubtful she would have lived." Moving closer to the bed, Dreya reached for John's hand, squeezing hard. "Thank you...thank you for saving my baby."

John closed his eyes, anger and guilt suddenly at war inside him. He tugged his hand free and couldn't quite look at Dreya as he hissed out, "Don't thank me! Thank Rodney and the Doc. I wanted you to have it now so this would be over with!" John shook with tension as he spoke, spitting out all his anger and directing it at Dreya with laser precision. He wanted to hurt her even as he regretted doing so.

There was a long moment of silence and Dreya's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She simply stared at John for a time, then she folded her arms over her belly and asked, "What made you change your mind?"

Now there was the question John had been avoiding, but he felt compelled to answer it...honestly. "A kick in the pants reminder that the baby didn't ask for this anymore than I did." John didn't have to look at Dreya to feel her flinch. He scrubbed a hand over his face, wishing he could wipe away everything he was feeling. He knew most of it wasn't hormonal at the moment, it was his own doubts and fears and insecurities. His own guilt and regrets. After a time, he looked at Dreya and continued. "I hate this...you have no idea how much." As he spoke, John's hand dropped to his own belly and he rubbed it, hoping to settle Traitor down a bit. The baby seemed to sense John's mood and was reacting accordingly. "I hate it but I won't punish the baby because of it," he finished.

"Thank you." Dreya's words were whispered, but they echoed loudly between them.

"I'm tired," John countered, still feeling the sharp edge of his anger. He curled up on his side as best he could, back to Dreya, and closed his eyes. He heard her walk away and only then did John let himself drift off to sleep.

He wished he could sleep the last weeks of this away. Instead he did as he was told, eating what he could, visiting with Elizabeth and Rodney and the others. John took note of the fact that Dreya did not return to see him. He didn't blame her. Then, finally, Beckett released him to his room. He was warned, finger-shaking in his face and all, to report any symptoms, no matter how minor. John agreed. He then took his first steps to freedom only to do an about face and follow Beckett into his office. Once there John blurted out a question. "Um...when should I start doing kick counts?" He saw the surprise on Beckett's face and it was almost comical.

Carson opened his mouth to reply only to be interrupted by his radio. "Beckett here," he responded.

They both listened as he was called to an emergency in the botany lab. "Go," John said. His question could wait. Or he could dig out the pregnancy book again. Not that he didn't have it pretty much memorized by now.

"We'll talk later," Carson promised, giving John a pat on the shoulder before heading out.

John watched him go, then found himself sinking down into a nearby chair when it suddenly hit him what had just happened. What his asking that simple question really meant. John blinked hard and pressed one hand over his stomach as he let acceptance wash over him. Because that was what he was finally doing. Accepting that which he could not change. And a part of him wondered if, given the chance, he even would.

After a time, John got up and headed for his room. He felt exhausted, so he stretched out on his bed, both hands on his belly, wanting to feel Traitor move. And when the baby did just that, John felt a wet burn in his eyes. He hated this...hated feeling so damn confused and conflicted. He hated being so fucked up but...he realized he no longer had any real regrets about making the choice to save Traitor.

Feeling a warm contentment stealing over him, John closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

OoO

A knock on the door brought John awake. He sat up, scrubbing at his eyes, calling out for the person to enter. He figured it was Rodney. To John's surprise it was Dreya, with food. John slid out of bed and took the tray from her, setting it on his desk. He realized he had to pee and excused himself to take care of that and splash water on his face. Then he returned to find Dreya straightening his bed, like Teyla had done before. "Sorry about the mess," John said, feeling a bit embarrassed. "And you really don't have to do that."

"I have little else to do to occupy my time," Dreya countered, as gentle smile on her face.

"I guess it must be even more boring for you than for me," John allowed. "Um...did you bring enough food for two? Or should I say three?" he asked, a teasing note in his voice that he felt comfortable with.

Dreya nodded. "I did. I was hoping you would not mind if I joined you."

John held out the chair for her. "I don't mind."

"Colonel?" Dreya began, as she sat down, mindful of her bulk. "May I say something to you?"

"Sure," John replied, sitting down himself and realizing he was being just as mindful of the stomach that wasn't really there.

Dreya cleared her throat then said, "I am very sorry for all of this. For what I have done to you. I only now have begun to understand what it has meant for you. Watching you go through the pain earlier...and talking to others here. I know that I have forced you away from your duties. For all of that...I am sorry."

John stared at her, feeling touched by the apology, yet a bit angry too. Angry at himself for being the prompt for it. "It's okay," he replied, reaching for her hand. And John realized he meant it. That he was coming to terms with this. "There's nothing anyone can do to change it now so...we'll just see it through. Okay?" At her nod he felt himself relax and he pulled back only to stifle a gasp as his back twinged in protest.

"Let me help you with that," Dreya offered, rising with surprising grace and moving behind John to rub at his lower back.

"You don't have to do this," John said, but it was a mild protest. Her fingers knew right where to dig in and rub hard. Which made sense given that it was actually her pain. Even if he did feel it more.

Dreya continued kneading. "By helping you...I am helping myself," she reminded him. "And I want to help you." Utmost sincerity in her words.

John didn't miss it. He said nothing more, simply letting her get the kinks out. Then they settled in to eat and chat and such became the pattern of the next few days.

OoO

In spite of himself, in spite of wanting to feel detached and his desire to hold on to his anger, John found himself bonding with Dreya. To the point where they even discussed naming the baby. Although she was the one to bring it up during lunch one day.

"It's your baby," John stated firmly. "You name it."

"I think that you have more than earned the right to help me choose," Dreya countered, reaching out to touch his arm. "I wish for your input, Colonel."

John winced. "Colonel?" he echoed. "I thought I had cured you of calling me that. I mean, since we're sharing this...pregnancy thing...the least you can do is use my name."

Dreya nodded then smiled warmly. "Of course. John," she amended. "Now...have you thought of any names?"

"Not really." John picked at his sandwich, not feeling all that hungry. As much as he enjoyed Dreya's company, he was bored. It didn't' help that Rodney was caught up in maintenance stuff with Radek, because they were having power surge problems. So Rodney wasn't around as much of late to keep John amused. Teyla was gone on a mission with Ronon, having joined up with Lorne's team for the time being. Weir was still teaching John how to read Ancient, but she had too many other duties as leader of Atlantis to spend any time in keeping him amused otherwise. Which left check-ups with Beckett and hanging out with Dreya. And as much as John found himself liking her, being with her so much was a somewhat painful reminder of his condition. A reminder that he could no longer do his job. Which tended to cycle him back into being irritated and moody, and John was tired of feeling that way.

"Are there any names that you like?" Dreya prompted.

And John realized she was staring at him, waiting for him to respond. He must have zoned out for a moment. "Um...names," he repeated. "Well...I've always liked my cousin's name."

Dreya looked intrigued. "What is it?"

"Lily." John made a face as he spoke. "It's a flower where I come from. Pretty."

"Lily..." Dreya echoed. "I like how it sounds."

John shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed and not sure why. "McKay wants you to name the baby Rodney, even though Beckett is positive it's a girl," he declared, wanting to lighten his own mood.

Dreya laughed, a musical sound that filled the room. "He is a nice man and a good friend to you, I think."

"I suppose he is," John allowed. "So...um...did you have a name picked out?"

"No...not yet," Dreya replied. "I wanted you to help me choose, John. I consider her to be our child."

John was not ready to hear that. The implications of what Dreya was saying was something too intensive, too invasive in some ways. Needing to find a distraction from this particular conversation, John was about to suggest they take a walk when he heard claxons sounding. Grabbing his ear piece, John radioed Weir. "What's going on?" he asked.

She sounded worried when she replied. "Lorne returned without Ronon and Teyla. He has...refugees. He said the team was attacked and he barely made it back."

"Ronon and Teyla?" John asked, even as he was already heading for the door.

"I don't know yet," Elizabeth replied.

John was about to tell her he was on his way when he heard the sound of gunfire. Instinct told him to remain silent and to just listen. He heard Elizabeth asking Lorne what he was doing. He heard someone yelling, then McKay's voice in the background. The words tie them up and hostage floated around, along with lock down the gate. Deja Vu washed over John, as he remembered how the Genii had once tried to take over Atlantis.

Turning to Dreya, John told her, "I need to hide you in a safe place and I want you to stay put." As he spoke, John was rummaging in his closet. He had a spare ear piece which he put on Dreya with an explanation of how to use it. "I'm on this channel, it's private. But only use it if you're in trouble." That said, John pulled on his vest, grimacing when he realized he didn't have to try and fit it over a swollen belly. He then pulled out extra clips, strapped on his thigh holster and checked his Beretta, then he grabbed his P90 and was ready to move. But even as he reached his door, it remained closed. John realized someone must have locked down the city, someone being Rodney. But Atlantis liked John and he knew how to override the systems, thanks to Zelenka.

Checking the hallway, John made sure it was clear then he headed out. He had a life signs detector in his vest and he pulled it out as he grabbed Dreya's hand. John knew of a safe place on an undersea level. He would take Dreya there then he would do what he could to take back his city and save his people.

THE END...of part 20