Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis - and all the characters and settings related to the show - do not belong to me, obviously. That credit goes to MGM, Brad Wright and Robert C. Cooper. The plot of this little story, however, does.

A/N – Hello again! Thank you so much for all your kind words after the last chapter. I want you to know that you're the reason I love writing this story so much, and why I'm a little sad that we're nearing the end. We're not there yet though, so without further ado, on with the next instalment…

~ Alone ~

Part Fourteen

When John next woke up, it was to a sharp headache and a vague sense that he couldn't breathe properly. He swallowed hard in an effort to lubricate his dry throat, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference, so he settled for taking as deep a breath as he could manage as he felt the harsh glare of reality pulling him back from blissful unconsciousness against his will.

With a desperation he didn't fully understand, John wanted to prolong the temporary escape for as long as he could, so he chose not to open his eyes immediately. Instead, he levelled out his breathing as best he could and let his other senses do the work.

The first thing he noticed, once he'd discounted his own ragged breaths, was that the weather outside had calmed down a bit. He could hear a gentle breeze, but no tell-tale sound of rain drops hitting the roof of the jumper. It was probably the first time it had stopped raining in the last couple of days, and he wondered if that was a sign.

Shrugging that away, the next thing he noticed, once he discounted the weather as well, was that he was not alone. He knew Jett would be around of course, but some of the sounds he could hear were definitely of the human variety. He realised, a little taken aback by the sudden memory, that it was his team. They'd come back for him. He wondered why he was finding it so hard to remember that…

Unwilling to explore that particular thought any further, instead John focused his attention on his friends. He could hear a slight muttering from his right. The rustling of clothes. A tapping; nervous, bare skin on metal. A cough. And then…

"I'm hungry," McKay grumbled loudly, somewhere to John's right. John knew from the metal at his back that he was still lying on the floor of the jumper, so he had a feeling McKay was somewhere by the controls. John kept his eyes closed, still not quite ready to announce his return to consciousness just yet, but he could hear the sounds of tinkering in the background. Clearly McKay wasn't having much luck with fixing the jumper either if he was already complaining about food…

"Shut up, McKay," came the grunted response from Ronon to John's left. John could almost imagine the big man rolling his eyes, and he was surprised to find himself biting back a smile at the thought.

"I'm serious," the scientist whined. There was another dull thud – metal on metal – and John wondered how much progress Rodney had made in the few hours he'd been asleep. Probably more than he'd managed in the last few weeks, John thought with a little more bitterness than Rodney deserved.

"I'm serious too," Ronon deadpanned.

"It's only been six hours, Rodney," Beckett chimed in, from John's other side. That left Lorne and Teyla, both of whom had long ago learned to be quiet when McKay went off on one of his rants. Oh, and Jett of course. John couldn't hear any barking, he could feeling the dog's thick fur against his right arm, telling him exactly where the big animal was.

"That doesn't mean I'm not hungry," Rodney muttered petulantly.

"Ah, but it does mean you're not starving," Beckett retorted.

"Excuse me," Rodney replied. "I have a medical condition."

John grunted out a sound that could have been a laugh and decided that it was probably time to chime in. Having spent more time with Rodney over the last few years than anyone else currently present in the jumper, John had long ago taught himself the art of Rodney-whispering.

"What medical condition?" Lorne asked Rodney, a little naively.

"Seriously?" Rodney replied, his slightly high pitched voice a warning sign that he was about to go on a rant. "Did you all bang your heads so hard when we crash landed on this godforsaken planet that you've forgotten about my hypoglycaemia - ?"

"Who could forget when you mention it every five minutes?" muttered John hoarsely, finally opening his eyes, albeit with great reluctance. When he managed it, he was faced with six pairs of eyes – five human and one dog – all staring at him. He tried not to shrink back under their scrutiny and obvious concern. In that moment though, as guilty as the thought made him, he couldn't help but think that there was something to be said for being left alone…

Except, of course, they were well and truly stuck together, at least for the time being. John sighed heavily. It was yet another thing that had been taken out of his control in recent weeks, another thing he would have to endure.

He'd learned quickly enough in the last few lonely, bitter weeks that what he wanted, what he felt…none of it mattered. He just had to survive, he reminded himself; that was all that mattered. Now, the only thing that had changed was that they had to survive with him.

"Yes, well…" Rodney mumbled, replying to John's attempt at a joke. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

John blinked hard at the abrupt change of subject, but he knew the scientist well enough by now to know that it was best to just go with it or face another round of bickering that he knew he wouldn't win in the state he was currently in.

Before answering though, he ran a hand through his unruly dark hair and for the first time since waking up, realised that he was still half-naked. John wrapped his arms around his torso in a futile effort to work some heat back into his body. He really needed to work out where they'd put his t-shirt…

"I'm fine," John shrugged finally.

John looked up, and could immediately tell, just by the odd look on Rodney's face, that he'd probably taken a little longer to answer Rodney's question than he should have, but he couldn't find it in himself to care too much. John pulled himself up slightly and was pleased to find that his body wasn't as achy as it'd been last time he'd awoken. It was a welcome reminder that slow progress was still progress…

"John…" came Teyla's mothering tone, complete with a gentle but firm stare. John briefly wondering if the look worked as well on Torren as it did on the rest of them.

"Fine," he mumbled, gaze dropping. "I still feel…tired, I suppose. Achy as well." He paused, shivered. "And a little bit cold maybe."

He shivered again and tried to remember why he was naked from the waist up. Then it hit him with a force that almost knocked him back, making him wonder how he could have forgotten in the first place.

Fever, he told himself. Right. No wonder his brain wasn't really functioning at full capacity. He'd almost literally been cooked from the inside by a fierce infection, and he'd nearly died…

John shook himself and glanced out of the back of the open jumper hatch for a brief moment. Now that he had his eyes open, he could see confirmation that the stormy weather outside had eased off a bit, but even with the slightly better weather, John knew that if he was still recovering from a pretty bad fever – and he most definitely was – then his body would take time to feel normal again.

Still, having added complication of recovering from a near-fatal fever certainly wasn't helping him feel any better about his situation. His body, which had gone through plenty already, felt out of whack, like it belonged to someone else, and his mind still felt muggy and out of sorts, despite being relatively well-rested. In fact, he was spending more time asleep than awake, and the few times he had been awake in the last few hours, he had felt so weak that a part of him had wanted his team to put him out of his misery.

Not that they would have, of course. But that had its own downsides, because as much as he appreciated them saving his life, and looking after him, and keeping him company, he'd been alone for a few weeks now, and their presence – even after a few hours - was already starting to feel…constricting.

But he didn't know how to tell them that, especially since they'd come back to rescue him, so he decided he would keep his mouth shut and act like everything was fine. That is, until he next fell asleep and he was forced to listen to the nightmare versions of his friends tell him over and over again that nothing was fine, and that he wasn't worth coming back for.

You're not worth it.

The longer it went on, the harder John knew it would be to hide how he felt. And he knew he had to hide it, because his team didn't deserve his doubt. They'd come back for him, he told himself forcefully. They were his friends, and they cared about him.

They cared.

You're not worth it.

"Here, John," Teyla said softly, proving John's point by passing him a spare emergency blanket. He took it, and tried to smile at her, but the action felt forced. His head still felt foggy with sleep and he wished he could have a few moments alone to get it straight before he had to face his team. Despite the fact that he knew they cared, suddenly he very much wanted to be alone…

"You can go back to sleep if you want, Colonel," Lorne said quietly. "We've got things under control here."

McKay glared at the Major but didn't argue, which was a warning sign if ever John had ever seen one. They were acting relaxed, but the tension was there. They were worried…

"Actually, I was thinking it might be good to go outside," John replied even before the thought had fully taken hold in his mind. He kept the blanket, but he resisted wrapping it around his shoulders as he continued, "I'd like to stretch my legs a bit."

"Absolutely not, Colonel," Beckett said immediately. John tensed but just managed to stop himself snapping. Still, he hated being made to feel like an invalid by anyone, especially by people who had abandoned him not that long ago.

It wasn't their fault, he reminded himself again, although a part of him, however small, was starting to doubt even that…

You're not wanted…

"I don't think that's a good idea, sir," Lorne said cautiously. Clearly, despite John's effort, some of his latent anger was bleeding through.

"I'm not an invalid," John told him tightly. His anger was coiling around his chest now, tightening. He was so close to snapping, and if they didn't give him some space soon, he was going to…well, he didn't know what he was going to do, but it wouldn't be pretty.

"But you are suffering from the after-effects of a fairly serious infection," Beckett replied gently. "It's going to take time, son."

"I thought I'd recovered," John shot back. He clenched his fists. "I feel better."

"So you feel better than you did when you were dying," Rodney said sarcastically. "Big deal."

"We need food," John replied stubbornly. "I need to go hunting."

The truth was, John knew he was in no shape to go hunting, but he was starting to feel out of control, as if he was trapped. He'd survived this long without them. What right did they have to come swanning back into his life, dictating what he could and couldn't do…?

"We can do that, Sheppard," Ronon said, pointing to himself, Lorne and Teyla. For obvious reasons, Rodney was excluded.

"No offence, big guy," John sighed, biting back his growing anger at being pushed out. "But I know where the best game is around here, and I can't exactly point it out to you without going with you. Besides, you'll need Jett to actually catch anything, and he won't go without me."

"Sheppard…you're just not strong enough," Ronon said, his words reluctant but ultimately sure. John knew there was a grain of truth there too, especially because Ronon was always honest with him.

"Ronon..." John began

True to his nature though, Ronon continued. "You'd only slow us down."

"John, it's okay," Teyla said softly, perhaps sensing something in his expression.

But it wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

She started to say something else, but John had finally had enough of the coddling. He'd had enough of them walking on eggshells around him and changing the conversation as soon as he woke up. He'd had enough of feeling weak.

He began to pull himself up on shaky legs, the blanket Teyla had just given to him finally falling from his fingers onto the floor. He might have been able to handle it if they hadn't left him to fend for himself for five weeks, but since they had…

"Look, I'm going outside," he snapped. "I managed fine without you guys for weeks. Believe it or not, I'm not completely useless."

And with that John stumbled past his friends and stormed out into the clearing.

The cool wind hit his face with a force that took his breath away as soon as his feet touched wet grass, but he persevered, determined to prove that he wasn't weak. He would show them that he wasn't weak if it killed him…

Except, of course, he only made it a few more steps before his legs started to give way beneath him. Suddenly, dying felt like a very real possibility…

"John!"

He felt hands grab at his shoulders to steady him, holding him upright. He wanted to shrug them off, but honestly, he just didn't have the energy. John closed his eyes and tried to stop his head spinning.

"John?"

John pulled his eyes open again. It was Teyla. He probably should've been grateful that it was Teyla who had followed him and not one of the others. She was least likely to yell at him, although her disappointment would probably hurt more…

"Sorry," he muttered, trying to slow down his breathing and bite back his latent anger. They didn't deserve it. He knew they didn't deserve it, so why the hell was he being so testy with them…?

Please don't leave me.

"John…?"

"Sorry for storming out," John said roughly. "That was stupid."

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"We understand, John," she replied, her hands never leaving his shoulders as she gently turned him round to face her. "But you are not alone anymore."

"I know…"

"No, John, it seems you do not," Teyla interrupted quietly. He started to respond, but she held up her hands to stop him. "Please just listen to me for a moment."

John nodded jerkily, and Teyla took that as permission to continue.

"If I could take away the pain that we have caused you these last few weeks," she began, "I would do it in an instant. But I cannot, John. We cannot."

"It's not your fault," John said quietly. "I know that."

Shivers wracked his body, and he was starting to really regret dropping that blanket now. God, he was an idiot…

"Maybe your mind does," Teyla said knowingly, her brown eyes rising to meet his. "But your heart, I fear, does not. Not yet anyway."

"I'll get over it," John replied gruffly, more than a little uncomfortable with the emotional conversation. He crossed his arms in a futile attempt to work some warmth back into his body.

"It will take time," Teyla replied softly. "We understand that. But John, please, do not leave us behind, no matter how much we may deserve such a treatment."

Please don't leave me.

"I'm sorry," John repeated, shoulders slumping. "God, I'm sorry, Teyla. I don't know what I was thinking. I was just…I was an asshole."

"Perhaps," Teyla replied with a teasing smile and a twinkle in her eyes. Then she turned serious again. "But we love you, John. Even Rodney, though he does not know how to say it."

"Uh…right," John replied uncomfortably. He shifted slightly. "Uh, you know…same to you too."

Teyla's wide smile was reward enough that John didn't regret actually pushing himself to say as much as he had.

"Come on," she said as she gently began to guide him back to the jumper. He didn't resist. "I fear Dr Beckett is already quite frustrated with you for disobeying his orders to rest."

"Yeah," John agreed. "Probably shouldn't push it."

Carson was a good, kind man, but he could be scarier than a wraith sometimes. Anyway, after weeks of being alone, it did feel good to have someone looking after him, wanting him to be okay.

There was still a bit of anger there, but John knew he had to keep reminding himself that not only had it not been their fault, they had come back.

They were with him now, for better or worse. He was not alone.

A/N – So how was it? I realise that these aren't the longest chapters in the world, and that there has been an almost unforgivable wait between postings, but I hope you're all still enjoying the story? Like I've said before, we're nearing the end now, but I would still greatly value any feedback you're able to give. For now though, and until next time, thank you so much for reading!