I want to thank you for the lovely reviews and the alerts, they really mean a lot. Unfortunately I am unable to reply to those without accouts, as the system won't allow it.

Thanks also to my hardworking beta Sherry 57 who is getting my chapters ready for posting. All mistakes are mine though, especially in this chapter which I have tweaked, post beta to within an inch of it's life! Speaking of which...how is John?

THE TIES THAT BIND

CHAPTER 3

"Please, John – just one more spoonful." Teyla used her best persuasive tone, but was disappointed to see it cut no ice with the man in the bed as John just drew his lips together, and turned his head away like a petulant child.

Teyla waited for a moment, then let the spoon fall into the bowl, before trying another tack. "If you don't eat, John, you won't regain your strength, and it will take even longer to get back to work. We need you back in the team, because I fear Ronon is going to hit Rodney one of these days… "

"I'll speak to Ronon, and I'd like nothing more than to get out of this freaking bed - but right now I don't see the point in forcing down anything," John blurted out, sounding annoyed, "for one, I'm really not hungry, and another, I'll just chuck it back up in a couple of hours." Then he muttered. "Sometimes I think it would be easier if Ronon were just to shoot me."

Teyla placed the bowl on the bedside cabinet and gave him a searching look. "I thought Carson said the sickness was receding?"

John snorted. "Oh, yeah. Instead of every hour on the hour, it's just every two – a BIG improvement."

"Now, now, Colonel – I understand your frustration, son, but that's a bit of an exaggeration." Carson corrected, as he came up and stood beside Teyla.

"So what if it is? You know the score, Carson. It doesn't matter whether its one hour, two, or even this afternoon, at some point all of that yummy broth is going to make a re-appearance." John slammed his head back against the pillow, and grimaced, clearly in pain.

Carson scanned his patients face, picked up the chart, then took the syringe nestling in his pocket. "I think it's time for a top up, Colonel. But when the pain med's kick in, and you're feeling a wee bit less crabbit, you and I are going to have a serious talk."

"Sure…whatever." Teyla saw John give the medic a scathing look, before blanking them both out by squeezing his eyes shut.

"Now how many times did I hear that when we were growing up?" John's eyes sprang open, and Teyla was just as surprised to see Dave Sheppard strolling towards them.

"It's good to see you again, Teyla, Carson – you too little brother." Dave shook Carson's hand before going to sit by the bed.

"How…who?" John mumbled, his eyes flitting between all three, before giving both his friends a suspicious glare.

Dave shook his head and laughed, but Teyla could see the concern hidden behind his forced smile. "Does it matter? All I know is you're a lucky guy to have friends like these who put up with your crap."

Just at that moment Teyla noticed John's face go scarlet, the flush of fever sending beads of perspiration dripping from his brow, but Dave simply picked up the cloth nearby and started mopping his brother's face.

"Have you got anything to eat, Carson? I'm starving." Dave asked, giving them both a wink.

"I'm just leaving to meet Ronon and Rodney in the mess hall," Teyla informed him and then offered, "would you like me to bring something back?"

Dave nodded. "That would be great - thanks. And say 'Hi' for me, and that I'll catch up with them later. I want to have a chat with this guy first." Teyla saw him nodding towards John, ignoring his sour look, and she felt relief flood through her.

Teyla had been worried, they all had, as John's recovery was taking longer than Carson had expected. True to his initial diagnosis, John fortunately hadn't sustained any further damage, but the strong medication was playing havoc with his system, and her friend had been lying ill for so long now, he was starting to become depressed. Though from what she could see, it appeared as though a visit from his brother was just what the doctor ordered…literally.

ooooOoooo

Even dosed up with Carson's happy juice, his chest still felt tight and sore, every muscle aching, but pain he could deal with - what he hated most was the constant nausea. What with that, and the persistent fever he was as weak as a freaking kitten, and pissed off that even after ten days he was still a bed ridden invalid.

John knew he'd got lucky, but he sure as hell didn't feel like it. He was positive there were cadavers in the morgue with more energy than him, and during his worst moments when he was throwing up, doubled in pain and struggling to get a breath – he actually wished Ronon would put him out his misery. Now with his brothers surprise arrival, his humiliation was complete, as it was apparent some smart ass, probably Carson, had planned an intervention behind his back. He was furious - what the fuck was Dave going to do? Tell him to eat his greens and be a good boy!

"Why don't you just cut the crap, Dave and tell me why you're really here?" John asked, pointedly. "'Cause apart from the fact I might feel like it, Carson tells me I'm not actually dying." His voice trailed off at that part, and John immediately regretted his outburst when he saw the hurt, anxious look on his siblings face. "Hell, Dave – I'm sorry. It's just…"

Dave put down the cloth and turned to face him full on. "Forget about it John – I get it. This must be torture for an active guy like you, besides I know how much you hate accepting help from anyone. But you've got to snap out of this buddy, there's a lot of good people really worried about you. Carson's trying to play it cool, but even he's getting really concerned." Dave pointed out, then folded his arms and leaned back on the chair. "Anyway, apart from the fact I wanted to check up on you, I've just received some news about dad's estate we need to discuss."

The pain meds were starting to kick in and he was feeling drowsy, but at Dave's announcement, he roused himself. "I thought all that had all been settled after the funeral?"

Dave shrugged. "So did I, and I was just as surprised as you when the lawyer contacted me a few days ago." Dave said, then went on to explain. "Anyway, apparently dad sold a piece of prime real estate years ago, with the proviso that if it ever came up for sale again, he would be allowed first refusal."

"So, why didn't you just tell them to sell it?" John asked, curious.

"Well, I was going to, until I found out where it was. It's a house in Hawaii, John. Set on the beach, beside the sweetest waves on the island, and if I'm honest – I thought of you."

"Me? Look Dave, I have to admit it sounds great, but I already have a home here. Besides, I would never have time to visit the place." John reasoned.

In answer, Dave reached down and bought up a laptop he'd brought with him. "Look, John, I know you love Atlantis, but you won't be able to do this job forever. I just think it would make sense to invest in a place of your own for the future, somewhere you could call home when you retire. Sure, the house is a bit of a wreck, but nothing that couldn't be fixed, and you could let it out for rental in the meantime, my people could make all the arrangements." Dave stopped, and John saw him looking when he couldn't suppress a yawn. "Tell you what, I can see you're tired so I'm going to leave this, but just think about it, would you?

John watched his brother place the laptop on the bedside cabinet as he rose to leave. "Thanks, Dave…for thinking about me, and coming to visit – I appreciate it. And, I will have a look at this later."

"Promise?" Dave asked, giving him a suspicion look.

John felt the corners of his mouth lift up. "Yeah, I promise. Now will you get out of here and let me get some sleep?"

"Grouch!" Dave replied, but John saw him smiling. "I'll catch you later, John, and next time I'll be bringing food. But be warned, I won't be taking any of your crap about not eating." Dave wagged his finger at him, but John saw the smile was still there taking the sting out the threat.

"Tell you what...if you can sweet talk Martha into making some of her turkey broth, you have a deal."

ooooOoooo

Rodney felt like a heel, guilty at not having been to see Sheppard, but the first (and last) time he'd visited during John's current spell in the infirmary, the man couldn't stop throwing up.

It wasn't something he was proud of, but Rodney couldn't abide sickness. He knew only too well how pathetic that made him sound, but the sad truth was whenever he witnessed anything unpleasant, it made him feel green around the gills. The first time it happened, he thought he'd caught what his roomy had, but after a few similar vile incidents, it soon became clear that his disloyal stomach sympathised with whoever the victim happened to be.

Ever since then, Rodney realised it was far better for everyone's sake if he kept his distance until whatever bug it was, had finally bit the dust. He knew Beckett understood, as did Teyla, but Ronon had been a bit off with him lately, although if he was honest he was more worried about John's reaction to his absence.

When he strolled into the dimmed ward, the man himself was currently lying sleeping in the corner bed. With his pale skin and gaunt features, Rodney thought John still looked like crap, but according to the voodoo expert, Carson, Sheppard was finally on the road to recovery. So, armed with his chessboard under one arm, and his laptop under the other, Rodney was about to sit down next to the bed and wait for sleeping beauty to wake up, when he saw Carson waving him into the office.

"Is everything still okay, Carson…he has stopped puking, hasn't he?" Rodney asked, feeling suddenly hesitant.

Carson nodded, while ushering him inside and motioning for him to take a seat. "Yes, yes - you're quite safe, the Colonel's feeling a lot better. I just need to speak to you about something."

"Sure, what is it?" He asked, puzzled.

The doctor's face grew serious. "I don't want you to worry him with anything."

Indignant, Rodney stood up and the chess set fell to the ground, scattering all the pieces over the floor. "Oh, that's nice…that really is, Carson. What kind of man do you think I am?"

However Beckett remained where he was, looking unfazed. "The kind of man who is so worried about what could happen to the city, he might unwittingly let slip what was bothering him…"

"Oh."

"Mr Woolsey told me all about the Trojan you found, and Radek was so worried about how much time you're spending in the lab, he came to see me." Carson pointed out, then softened his tone "Look, son, I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt John, but he's been left severely weakened by this bloody virus and when he's well enough to be discharged, I want him to take a holiday. And, we both know he won't leave if he thinks Atlantis is in danger."

Rodney grumbled indignantly, and was about to lay into his friend, but abruptly stopped when he saw Beckett's expression didn't change. "Of course I won't say anything, but Sheppard, take a vacation? How the hell are you going to manage that – does he even know what a vacation is?" He asked, incredulous at what Carson was trying to do.

"Well Dave and I have put together a plan, but I'll need everyone's support to carry it out. So are you in?" Carson gave him a hooded look as he asked.

Rodney huffed as he knelt down to pick up the chess pieces "Of course. Really, Carson you do know how to hurt a guy."

"I'm sorry, Rodney, but I know how obsessed you get with your work. Speaking of which, when you're done visiting the Colonel, I want you to head straight to your quarters for a full eight hours – doctor's orders." When Rodney groaned, Carson drew him a look. "No arguments, in fact I'll send Ronon down to make sure my orders are being carried out…"

Rodney squinted up to see his friend staring at him with a no nonsense expression. "Fine. But you're nothing but a bully, do you know that?"

In response, Carson just smiled as he knelt down and helped him pick up the remaining pieces. Then a noise from outside caught their attention. "I think your chess partner has just woken up. He hasn't said anything, but I know he's missed you, Rodney. Enjoy your visit, but make sure you don't tire him out."

He was going to say something in protest, but suddenly realised how worried Carson must have been, and still was, to say what he'd had, so instead, Rodney just nodded and made his way towards the bed.

A flashback of John's agonised face as he'd struggled to breathe made him feel unaccustomedly nervous, as he saw his friend turn and watch his approach. "Look, Sheppard, I'm really sorry…"

John just nodded towards the board. "It doesn't matter…I'll take the black."

ooooOoooo

TBC

So John is on the road to recovery and is also enjoying a family reunion - it's all looking looking good, isn't it? However, is it going to stay that way?

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review. BTW, in case you don't know 'crabbit' is an old Scot's word for being irritable - but you probably got the drift!