AN: I'm incredibly sorry for the delay! Even though this was just the 'wrap-up' it still was short-sighted of me to get behind with it like I did. I started And the Sky was Dark and when I began posting it, I didn't realize how much work still needed to be done on it, and writing both at the same time was difficult (read - almost impossible). Anyway, this is the final chapter, but the epilogue will be arriving soon. Again, very sorry, and thanks Linzi for beta!

About a Baby part...19

If John had thought he was tired before, and had wanted to be alone to quietly fall apart, it was nothing compared to how he felt a week later. Every time he woke up, Rodney was there. Every time he went to eat, Rodney was there. Every time he drifted to the balcony, Rodney was there.

John didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Logically, he knew what McKay was doing. They'd been through too much, and Rodney was afraid that if he turned his back, something would happen. The scars from John's attempted suicides after Lily was born hadn't ever fully healed, and sometimes Sheppard wondered if McKay was afraid that he'd slide back into that depression, even though it'd been induced by the bond he'd shared with Dreya. It was as if he was making up for making mistakes the first time around.

Regardless of the reason, Rodney's persistence was paying off. Sheppard hadn't been allowed to pull within himself, and close off the world like he had done before. Lily kept them both animated even when he knew they both felt like dying inside from the fight to recover. It was tiring, grueling, and Carson didn't give either of them the opportunity to slack off from therapy.

Now, he was in their new room, and John felt like events had gone full circle. The room was dark, and quiet, and he found himself thinking back to that night not long after the explosion that had claimed Lily's mother and too many others.

John cuddled the sleepy baby, amazed at how much she'd grown during their captivity. There were so many thoughts crowding his mind, staring at her in the quietness. She had recovered from the bond-inflicted coma, and seemed content again. For her, it was as if he and McKay had never been gone, so completely had she accepted them back. He wished it was as easy for them to get over their ordeal. If only it was as simple as walking back through those doors, and the past month of pain and uncertainty was gone.

He smiled gently at the little girl. His daughter. So beautiful, so complete, and so unaffected. "I hear you've been talking," he whispered. The round eyes regarded him solemnly, before she tucked her face into his chest, and sucked on her chubby fist. He rubbed her back and said, "No holding out on me, kiddo. But you can wait till tomorrow." Gently, he moved her into the crib, tucking the blanket around her.

He wound the mobile of stars and planets, and watched as her sleepy eyes fixed on Saturn and the room was filled with tiny strains of music. John felt like he could've stayed there forever, but his physical condition didn't agree. Carson had released him earlier than what the doctor had wanted, but the admonishment to stay in bed, and take his recovery slow, had only fallen on frustrated ears. Everything was so damn slow. Walking, remembering, jogging – he wanted it all back yesterday.

Everything he'd been through, to get from there to here, from the moment Dreya had touched him to now, staring at the innocent face blinking tiredly at the spinning universe – how do you go on, when your entire life has been changed? The certainties he'd thought he'd known, weren't so certain anymore. The constants he'd lived his life by, weren't so constant anymore.

John stared until the sleepy eyes had given up their battle to stay awake, and the mobile had played the last stanza of Mozart's Moonlight Sonata. He turned back to his bed, and stared at the other person in the room. Rodney had offered to sleep in his quarters, but John had told him to stop being stupid.

As much as he wanted to be left alone, John also had to admit that if McKay did sleep somewhere else, neither one would get much rest. The time in Kolya's hands had left damage. They'd experienced it firsthand when Rodney had been discharged first, and John had been stuck in the infirmary.

Without McKay sleeping in the bed next to him, John had found himself waking constantly, thinking he was back in the cell. Rolling over to find Rodney gone had kept him off-balance. By the time he'd processed where he was, and where McKay was, John would find sleep hard to slip back into. After waking five times in the span of two hours, he'd given up.

Carson had watched John grow worse, and after three nights of little sleep, had called McKay in and sat them side by side. When John had looked over at Rodney, he'd been surprised to see the signs of fatigue were present in him, also. That's when Beckett said Sheppard was free to his quarters, but he wanted John to rest. There had been some explanations of what he considered resting, and what he'd do if he found out John wasn't following his directions to a T.

Elizabeth had meant for there to be two beds in the room, but when she'd ordered the furniture made, a mistake in communication meant there was only one very large bed. After they'd gated home with him minus his memories, it'd gotten temporarily shoved to the side, and John wasn't sure Elizabeth had thought about it much since then.

Now that they were back, again, and his memories intact – John remembered the night he and Rodney had shared that bed. The stolen kisses McKay had liberated by perpetrating a charade. He'd promised McKay when they got back, there'd be a talk about what Rodney had done. He smiled to himself – his actual words were something about kicking Rodney's ass.

Wearily, John sat on the edge of the mattress. Rodney had offered to do anything other than share the bed, but what McKay hadn't realized was that Sheppard had wanted him to share that bed. It'd been a long walk to wade through every reason why he should stop, and not let it go any further. If he listed the pros and cons - the pros of not taking another step towards that end would win, every time.

But a list is cold and impersonal. A list doesn't let you look back twenty years from now and erase your regrets because you didn't listen to your heart. He sighed, and stretched out on the bed, trying not to shift the bed enough that it woke Rodney. John rolled slightly to his right so that he could see McKay's face. The face that was turned to the side even though Rodney was laying flat on his stomach, and slack with sleep – the same face that had dogged his steps ever since he'd walked through that gate in the beginning – he loved that face, that person. And he didn't want to regret losing McKay when he faced the final trip of his life.

"I really was going to kick your ass," whispered John.

A slight snoring sound was Rodney's only reply.

He reached forward, and let his fingers trail across Rodney's forehead and down the side of his face – feeling the warmth underneath his hand, the soft feel of skin on skin. It filled a need, and he found himself thinking back to the day Lily was born.

John had whispered her a song, the words fitting the moment, and the lump in his throat had everything to do with it again. Glad for McKay's ability to sleep like the dead, he murmured huskily, "I can stay awake, just to hear you breathing -" his voice cracked from trying to be quiet. He cleared his throat, and continued off-key and hushed, "Watch you smile while you are sleeping, while you're far away from dreaming -" God, how did he lose himself to this man beside him? When had the deep friendship changed course to where he no longer wanted just a smile? "I could spend my life, in this sweet surrender, I could stay lost in this moment forever -" he trailed off, guilty, as Rodney's eyes fluttered open.

"As touched as I am," Rodney croaked, sleep thick in his voice, "don't sing."

"I thought you were asleep." Sheppard frowned, irritated at the flash of mortification, before rolling to his back. "Jesus, look what you've reduced me to; cheesy clichés; the least you can do is pretend to sleep, and save us both the embarrassment."

"I was trying, until someone did their best impression of a frog on steroids."

The ceiling was really boring at night. Yet, John still found something really interesting to stare at, so he wouldn't have to look at Rodney. "Just so you know, I was going to skip the ass-kicking, but now – it's back under consideration."

"Shut up," Rodney whispered, and then John felt his head clasped in strong hands, and pulled up, with only a moment to prepare before McKay's lips claimed his.

And of their own accord, John's hands came up, also, and covered Rodney's, deepening their kiss. He found himself lost for the first time since it'd all began. Lost in the emotion, and the touch, and the sheer physicality of their love finally being realized with both fully aware of what was happening.

When they surfaced to breathe, John said, his voice ragged, "That's not what I meant by an ass-kicking."

Rodney swallowed, his face flushed. "No, but you have to admit, my idea was more enjoyable." He groaned, and covered his face with a shaky hand. "Why did you do this to me?"

"Me?" John exclaimed. "Turn that around."

"I never meant for it to turn out this way," Rodney admitted. He rolled till he was on his back, and now they both stared at the ceiling. "I've never -"

John rushed in saying, "I never have, either. So what does that make us?"

"Desperate fools that fall in love?" Rodney joked weakly.

"I've felt desperate," John said. "This isn't desperate." And he turned to face McKay. "This is -"

"Shut up, and kiss me, you fool," replied McKay.

"What?"

Rodney rolled his eyes in John's direction. "That's what this is."

They say actions talk louder than words, and John figured, they were probably right, so he did just that –

OoO

When morning arrived, John woke to find himself tangled in McKay. The real surprise was how much he liked waking up like that. Lily was playing with her crib toy, making all sorts of noise, so John disentangled himself from Rodney, and padded softly to her bed.

"Good morning, Lily," he whispered, and as she reached for him, John scooped her up and settled her on his hip. "Raring to go all ready, just like a proper pilot – I'd say soldier, but you're going to earn wings."

"Our daughter is not going to be a pilot."

John did a lazy turn, pulling Lily's hand off his ear. "There's nothing wrong with pilots."

McKay rolled from the bed, and shook his head. "God, I'm not a morning person. And yes, there are. Pilots are promiscuous and…take risks they shouldn't."

"As opposed to astrophysicists that sleep with the pilots, and step in front of pilots in a misguided attempt to save their lives, thereby, screwing their own." John waggled his eyebrows at Lily, "Right, sweetie – daddy Rodney's such a slut."

McKay bolted out of bed, and rushed over, taking Lily from John, and covering her ears. "Don't do that – it would be morally reprehensible if her first word was slut. And it'd be your fault."

Prying Rodney's hands away from the squirming baby, John pulled her free, and set her on the floor. Lily began giggling and crawling towards the bin of toys in the corner. "She already said her first word; we missed it."

The crestfallen look on McKay's face made him wish he could take it back. "We did?"

He nodded abruptly, and turned for the bathroom. "She said 'Dada' according to Elizabeth and Beckett – personally, I think she's referring to me -" he paused in the doorway and looked back, "the pilot that she wants to grow up like, so she can be 'just like daddy'."

Every now and then he was hit with vertigo, and just as John went to turn back into the bathroom, he was hit with a strong wave, and stumbled into the frame of the door. His world was tilting sickeningly to the right, and his head spun. Knowing there wasn't any relief except lying down and letting it pass, Sheppard grabbed on to the frame, and tried to move back towards the bed. John should've known things were going to good to be true. The weeks of recovery had rolled on, and the gaps in his mental abilities lessened while the physical weaknesses had abated – mostly.

In an instant, Rodney was there. "Bad?"

"Bucket?"

McKay got him to the bed, and got the bucket – just in time. Probably should've just gone back to the bathroom. Vertigo sucked.

"Carson?"

"Sleep."

"Right." Rodney took the bucket back to the bathroom, and moments later, the bed dipped and a cold cloth wiped the sick-induced sweat away from John's forehead. "I've got work," Rodney said, setting the rag on the nightstand next to their bed. "I'll take Lily, but if you need me -"

"Go," John said, his eyes staying firmly fixed shut, because open only made it worse. "I'll meet you for lunch. I'll be over it by then." It usually only lasted a few hours. Unpleasant, but not dangerous, and the attacks happened a lot less frequently, anyway. He just wished they'd go away altogether.

When the wet lips brushed his forehead, John couldn't hold back the small smile. He listened as Rodney gathered Lily, and left. The suddenness of their morning together coming to an end left him tired in a way that had nothing to do with the vertigo.

There for a while, it'd seemed perfect. And he'd enjoyed it all.

OoO

John did meet Rodney for lunch, and then spent the afternoon with Lily. Teyla and Ronon had stopped by, but Sheppard wasn't sure where he fit anymore and it'd been awkward. He knew they knew, and it left him feeling a mixture of embarrassment and stubbornness. It was what it was, and they were what they were, but still – all those years of living one way, and believing one way. It didn't go away over night.

He felt like it was printed across his forehead, 'I slept with Rodney McKay', and though he'd accepted the consequences, it still left him feeling…vague. Disconcerted. Waiting for reactions at every turn, and not sure if he was up to handling them.

When they'd finally left, he'd let Teyla take Lily with them. She wanted to take the baby down to see some fish they'd discovered in a lab. It was some kind of aquarium, but the fish were kept in stasis. He thought it was creepy, but Lily got a kick out of it every time.

Their down time was for another week, assuming Beckett cleared him for duty at that point. Rodney had been given the okay this week. It was another reason he hadn't gone to Beckett about the vertigo this morning. John was afraid it'd prolong his grounded status. If they were still happening by the time he was cleared, he'd bring it up then, but not before.

John made his way to the balcony, and was a little surprised when he found it empty. All those times he'd sought the refuge, only to find McKay waiting – he felt like Pavlov's dog. Go to balcony, see Rodney.

"Colonel, thought I'd find you here," Lorne said from behind him.

He turned, and waved for Lorne to come closer. "Major, getting tired of the job yet?"

The heartfelt chuckle made John smile, as Lorne said, with feeling, "Definitely, Sir. I wanted to let you know, Alicia was beamed to the Daedalus an hour ago."

Lorne had briefed him on what had happened when they were in Kolya's hands. How Alicia had been behind it – even set up the ambush that resulted in McKay's capture. She'd confessed everything, including finding out that Caldwell had been a Goa'uld. To say he'd been stunned was an understatement. To say he'd felt betrayed, and had felt a hatred unlike any he'd ever felt before, that was getting closer.

They'd actually had to restrain him, and then restrain McKay. Beckett had ripped into both of them, asking if going down and killing her would bring Dreya back – if getting more blood on their hands would make up for what she'd done. Ronon had been about to say yes. But then Carson had gone further. He'd said if anyone deserved the right to take revenge, it was him, Dreya's family, the families of the personnel murdered in her sabotage.

And with a smile so cold that it'd made Sheppard almost shiver, Carson had said that either way, she was dead. She'd either get convicted of treason and be sentenced to death, or more likely, she'd be found in her cell one morning at body check – and all they'd find was a body.

"She probably didn't think it was fair," John murmured, turning back to look at the water. He'd also been told about the promises Alicia had been given to gain her cooperation.

Lorne moved up alongside him, and leaned on the railing. "No, Sir," he drawled. "But Ronon promised to take her to the mainland, if she wanted, and suddenly going back on the Daedalus seemed the better option."

The major was troubled, and John looked sideways at him. "But, you don't think we should be reneging?"

"Not that. I'm just wondering if maybe she'll be worth more to her Trust buddies alive, than dead – she's got a lot of information. If they break her out, she disappears – you never know."

He nodded. The water was choppy today, gray chunks everywhere his eyes could see. "You never know," he echoed.

"Colonel – I wanted – to let you know, that -"

Lorne was stammering, and Sheppard had a sinking feeling in his gut.

"Look – I know about you and McKay and, I'm cool, okay – in fact, anyone who isn't, can come talk to me," he finished rapidly, keeping his gaze fixed on the horizon.

John dropped his head, and felt it touch the top bar of the railing. God, this was embarrassing. "That's – thank you," he fumbled with his own words. Jesus. He was touched, and embarrassed, and slightly horrified all at the same time. "We're not…that obvious, are we?" he had to ask.

Lorne shook his head quickly. "No, no…not at all. I just…I overheard you talking the other day…and," Lorne cleared his throat. "Look, I've got some reports -"

He nodded. "Good. And this never…happened. This conversation." John figured he'd hide behind the 'don't ask, don't tell' and save them all a lot of gray hair.

"Right, sorry, Sir, I missed what you said…" Lorne backed away towards the door, and waved a small salute. "Don't stay out too long, I've heard McKay's looking for you," he warned John. "Sir," he added before disappearing entirely.

Fuck. John wondered just what he'd committed himself too. A lifetime, God willing, of Rodney McKay's hovering. He shook his head to himself as the door closed behind Lorne.

"So, Lorne painted his P-90 in a rainbow," Rodney cracked from behind John.

He snorted, because that was equally pitiful and amusing. "Don't go tie-dying anything, okay?"

"Oh, yes, I want to pronounce to the entire city that I'm sleeping with my boss – it's a good thing I'm already head of my department, or tongues would wag even more than usual."

"Technically, I'm only your boss when we're off world," John pointed out reasonably.

Rodney leaned in close, and John narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," McKay retorted. "Give me a break, it's not like I've done this a lot."

"You did fine last night." John felt his face flush at the memory.

"You're blushing," crowed McKay.

Sheppard growled, and was the one to grab Rodney's head this time. He kissed hard the first time, then slow the next, and deeper – "God," he groaned against McKay's face. "We're so screwed."

Rodney breathed hard against John's face. "Not yet, but give us time," and he pushed John against the rail, and showed John just how screwed he could be.

The End

Stay tuned for the epilogue...