Homecoming Heroes by catescorner
Well, here we are, at the end of this latest story. As always, my thanks to my lovely reviewers, for keeping me company.
As you can imagine, I had a great time writing it, from the lighter moments, to the more dramatic. But I think the part I enjoyed most was writing for Evan's family. I suppose that's the plus side for never seeing them on the series - you can create your own versions of them, and have so much fun doing it!
So you'll be glad to hear that the whole gang are in this final chapter. And after his heroics in the last chapter, I thought Evan deserved a nice bit of pampering in this one. So sit back, and enjoy the fun, as the newly extended Family Lorne celebrate a very special Thanksgiving.
Enjoy, and I hope to see you back here soon!
Homecoming Heroes
Chapter Eleven - We Are Family
07:34. A time when John Sheppard would normally be up, fed, and heroically saving the world. Again. This morning, though, after what had happened two nights before… yeah, he'd gladly make an exception. To his still subtly aching body, the snug warmth of his bed was just too comfortable to leave.
In freshly laundered sheets, he could quite happily stay here all day, and… hmm. Okay, maybe not. A timeless, still irresistible aroma caused his eyes to snap open again. His smile to happily widen.
With so many mouths to feed, Thanksgiving cooking in Casita Bonita had started early. Really early. Licking his lips in anticipation, John closed his eyes again, mentally picturing the feast that was taking shape downstairs. Bread rolls. Pumpkin pie, and apple pie. Homemade stuffing. Buttery mashed potatoes, and creamily smooth squash. Oh, and the turkey, of course. Those thick, juicy slices of melt-in-the-mouth turkey.
Damn, he was drooling now, but the torment to his rumbling stomach wasn't over yet. Before that feast of feasts, there was this equally delicious lure of bacon, eggs, and finest coffee.
Yeah, if anything could tempt him out of this luxurious haven, it was Ma Lorne's cooking. If she really did want to fatten him up, he was now beyond all hope of resistance.
Stretching out the final kinks, John finally rolled out of bed, and padded into the bathroom – lingering under torrents of water that pummelled aches of stiffness from his back and shoulders. When Evan had likened these things to standing next to Niagara Falls… yeah, he hadn't been kidding.
Still smiling at the thought, John dressed quickly, before heading for his next port of call – standing in the doorway to Evan's bedroom, and quietly enjoying the peaceful scene inside it.
Not surprisingly, he was still out for the count, catching up on much needed, well deserved sleep. Transformed by its depth, his fearless XO had slipped back in time, to the little boy that only his mother had got to see.
In the constant battle of wits between them, it was a picture that just begged to be caught on camera. Yet John frowned instead, resisting that temptation as he studied the gauze dressing on Evan's temple. He'd made light over it, of course, but those life-saving heroics had still left their mark.
That cut to his temple had needed several stitches, and both his hands had been badly grazed. And despite his assurances that it really didn't hurt, the boys' reaction when they'd come home had been inevitable. While not tearful, they'd still clung to him like limpets, insisting they took him to bed, like he did when they got sick. Too touched, and exhausted, to deny them, Evan hadn't argued.
They were still beside him now, Kevin wrapped into one arm, Andy tucked snugly under the other. Smiling through a seemingly shared dream, none of them seemed in any rush to leave it. Wherever those dreams had taken them, they were safely together, and blissfully content.
His duty over, and not wanting to intrude on this private moment of healing, John started to move away, closing the door behind him. But then two, snugly curled bodies started to move. Two tousled heads rose, identically familiar eyes blinking at him, in sleepy curiosity. And with the innocent fickleness unique to children, Kevin and Andy's priorities instantly changed –
"Breakfast!"
– sympathy for their injured uncle reduced to a quick kiss on his cheek, before they bolted for the door.
Wincing slightly, from where Andy had scrambled over him, Evan propped himself onto his elbows – yelling a subtly sarcastic greeting after them that, needless to say, went unheard and unheeded.
"Good morning to you too, guys!"
Answered instead with a notorious smirk, he did the only thing he could do. He returned it, with equally familiar, deadpan sarcasm.
"You know, there is a hairdryer in your room."
"Hey, I prefer the natural, just-out-of-bed look," John grinned, pointing towards a nearby mirror. "And not to be picky here, 'cos I'd never resort to that, but… pot? Kettle? Black?"
Left with little defence, Evan just glared at him while trying to bring his own mop of bedhead under control – efforts that, by the time he pulled it through a USAF sweatshirt, were pretty much wasted. Still, it was Thanksgiving, so… yeah, John thought dryly, they were both entitled to 'leisure-hair'. And this first holiday, at home, for almost six years promised to be something special, for both of them.
Evan certainly thought so as he sniffed the air, grinning in anticipation for the glorious feast to come.
"Ooooh, mom's getting busy!"
"Yeah, she's determined to fatten me up," John agreed, grinning too as they left his room – whatever he planned to say next interrupted by two, plaintive voices from the foot of the stairs.
"Awww, Uncle Ev-an! You spoiled the surprise!"
"Yes, Uncle Evan, we wanted to take care of you, 'cos you're hurt!"
Faced with such earnest devotion, and one of the biggest breakfast trays he'd ever seen, Evan winced. He could really use some back up right now, and… yeah, all he got instead was a gleeful smirk.
"Bad Uncle Evan!"
Rolling his eyes, Evan then turned his very best smile on two still sweetly swayable nephews.
"What if I go back to bed? Then you come in, and we can all eat together, and you can make a big fuss of me. Would that be okay?"
Apparently it was, since both the boys grinned back, nodding in innocently happy agreement. Grinning too, if for more devious reasons, John thought it only right to escort the patient back to bed – what he saw as a selfless offer to tuck him in met with a baleful glare, and a peevishly hurled pillow. Well, no matter. If he played his cards right, he could still snag some breakfast from that fabulous tray. First, though, he had to get back to his room. That camera might just be seeing some action after all.
Already guessing what he was up to, Evan grinned anyway, shaking his head as he snuggled back down under the covers. So his CO thought he could get the drop on him? Well, that CO had another thought coming! First, though, he had to face his nursemaiding nephews. And judging by their sombre expressions as they entered his room, they meant business.
One of these days, Evan thought dryly, he'd learn that kids take things too damn literally. Normally, he hated to be fussed over. Only his mom, and sometimes his sister, could get away with it. But as he patted the bed, and felt them scoot back in beside him, that independence crumbled. And when Andy tucked a napkin into his T shirt, he was laughing too much to argue.
Breakfast in bed had never looked so good either. You name it, they'd thought of it. Orange juice, eggs, bacon, patties, and a towering stack of toast. And yes, he was hungry enough to tackle it, but… damn, there was enough food here to feed an army. Or, in more innocent eyes, a heroically brave uncle, who was hurt, and needed them to look after him.
He wasn't that badly hurt, of course. A little dink to the head, and grazed hands, from all that digging. Compared to what else he'd faced, both here and on Atlantis, he hadn't been that brave either, but – well, as he felt the boys snuggle up against him, there was no way he could bring himself to say that.
He was hungrier than he'd thought, too. When Uncle John returned, and with some typically selfless 'help', those laden plates soon emptied. And while Kevin topped up his juice, he had to admit that being so thoroughly spoiled was kinda nice.
"You know, that had to be the best, and the nicest breakfast in bed I've ever had," he said at last, setting a now much lighter tray on his bedside table, before snugging the boys into a grateful hug. "I had all my favourites there, and it's made me feel so much better. Thank you."
Just the words that two doting nephews loved to hear. Kevin's face, and Andy's, lit up like Christmas trees.
"So you can get up now, Uncle Evan? I can show you my new room?" Andy asked eagerly, too young to understand why he found this so funny, or why Uncle John almost choked on his coffee.
"I was up already!"
And now I'm doing it all over again, he thought dryly, letting two willing helpers tug him out of bed – his curiosity still piqued by the 'big surprise' that he'd been too tired, and sore, to see the previous day.
"Your… new room?"
"Yeah, it's really neat. Uncle Ronon helped me," Andy grinned, tugging him impatiently along the hall – explaining the creativity of that 'help' as Evan stood in the doorway of his room, and simply stared. "I sat on his shoulders, so I could reach high enough to put them up."
"Yeah, I… uh… see that," Evan said at last, not trusting himself to meet John's eyes as he, too, fought to keep his face straight.
When he'd bought these model kits, he'd jokingly said the only room left for them was on the ceiling. Trust a six year old to take such gentle sarcasm, and turn it into the sweetest kind of 'can-do' reality. And it had kept him occupied, safely away from the more serious repair work downstairs, so – yes, for those reasons alone, there'd be a real, and heartfelt, thank you for Uncle Ronon.
Well, once he tore himself away from these shuttles and F-18s. They really were irresistibly spinny.
*click*
Yeah, that would do it. And to hell with military protocol, he was going to kill his commanding officer. Or he could always call on two, ever willing cohorts to do it for him, so he could get to that camera.
"You know, guys… Uncle John is really ticklish."
Tables sweetly turned, he then watched, in smug delight, as John's smirk instantly disappeared – unmoved by the glare that followed as he took off down the stairs, the boys in happy pursuit. Tanni's glare, though, as she flattened herself against the wall, was another matter entirely.
"Hey! No running in the house, and… for crying out loud, Ev, are you ever going to grow up?"
Duly contrite, for all of five seconds, Evan then grinned, reducing her to the same fits of laughter as he followed the boys out into the yard.
"With them? And him? Nope."
So used to these childish shenanigans, and knowing there wasn't a chance in hell to stop them, Tanni just shook her head.
"Brothers!", she muttered, although she was grinning broadly, and proudly, as she watched that brother chase his CO around the yard, cornering him into a shrieking wrestling match of arms and legs. In all but name, that's what they were.
By the time they were called in for dinner, peaceful harmony between them was just about restored – although that truce still looked dangerously fragile, as John and Evan took their places at the table. As only long suffering mothers, and sisters, could see, those grins still promised hours of mischief. They could only hope that this feast of a Thanksgiving Dinner might, just might, slow them down.
Teyla, Carson, and Jenn had seen those grins too, and recognized the mayhem that brewed beneath - planning their own solution to it now, as Carson nudged his young protege, his dimples deep, and his grin wickedly playful.
"I hope ye packed the sedatives, love. I think we might be needin' them."
Happily unaware of this plotting against him, John glanced proudly around the rest of the table. To his further amusement, even Rodney looked slightly daunted by the amount of food in front of him. And Ronon looked all out stunned. Thank God he'd introduced the Satedan to that little essential of civilised dining called cutlery.
He'd clearly been told about Thanksgiving too, and its poignant importance for those around him – linking hands with Kevin and Tanni, smiling gently back at them, while Evan led them in quiet prayer.
"We give thanks for this table, Lord, and the family around it. Keep us safe. Keep us happy. Keep us together."
As a quiet chorus of 'amen' circled the table, Ellie Lorne followed it with a gently exasperated order, that she didn't need to repeat.
"Well, don't let this good food get cold, people! Dig in!"
Watching a reasonably polite free-for-all erupt around them, John glanced at Evan, and grinned - the understanding between them so deep, so complete, that Evan didn't even need to answer him. Instead, he reached into his jeans, returning a slyly shang-hai'd camera to its rightful owner - settling back to watch snap-happy Sheppard capture this priceless moment for all time. Well, he was a big boy now. He could live with the ribbing blackmail that he knew would follow.
Besides, he had a camera too. And his CO was so cute, so really, adorably cute, when he was asleep.