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! Sorry for the unforgivable wait. Life and other stories took over, I'm afraid, but I'm back finally, and we'll nearly at the end now. I envisage another two or three chapters at the most, although there is a lot to cover in that time so my estimate may well be off. We shall see. For now, please enjoy this latest offering!

~ Alone ~

Part Fifteen

"So," Rodney began awkwardly, "Uh…how are you feeling?"

John rolled his eyes and gave Jett a gentle rub behind his ears as he considered how best to answer without sounding like a complete asshole again. He and Rodney – and the quietly slumbering Jett of course– had been left alone at the jumper by the rest of the team, and since it was raining outside again, they were sat on the floor of the jumper next to each other, too close for comfort for a man who had been on his own – literally – for five weeks.

Still, John couldn't find the energy to move, nor the courage to ask Rodney to. He was tired. More tired than he had ever been in his life, and his fever was only partly to blame. If his friends hadn't arrived when they had…

John shook slightly, his body still shivering with the after-effects of his near-death experience. It didn't matter. None of it did. He needed to get over it and start acting like a leader again. He needed to be the old John Sheppard again – the cocky flyboy who always had a plan – not the tired, broken man he'd turned into.

Except he was a tired, broken man, and he had no idea how to fix himself.

John sighed softly as he continued to run Jett's ears, and forced himself to focus on the present again in an effect to stave off memories of the not so distant past.

About an hour ago, Lorne, Ronon and Teyla had decided to go hunting for food since they only had minimal supplies with them, and to everyone's surprise, Beckett had asked to go with them - John suspected that the doctor's decision had more to do with the fact that he would get a few hours of Rodney-free time than any real desire to catch some of the local wildlife, but John wasn't complaining since it gave him a break from the doctor's well-intentioned but annoying care.

John was finding it hard keeping his mask up, but he felt he had to, even though they were his friends and he trusted them implicitly. He didn't quite know why he was keeping a mask up, but being left alone with the most oblivious member of the team would at least give him the respite he needed to try and work it out…

"...Hello?" Rodney called, waving a hand in front of John's face. In spite of his earlier conclusion, John was already starting to think Beckett had the right idea. "Earth to Sheppard. Did you hear me, or has the fever made you deaf as well as grouchy?"

John forced himself not to flinch, mainly because he knew that Rodney's snarkiness was a sign of either frustration, or worry, or fear. Of course that didn't make it any easier to take…

"John…"

"Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay?" John asked finally, his voice hoarse and sore from lack of use.

"Because you look a bit…not good," Rodney replied awkwardly. John shifted slightly, though there wasn't really much room to move away. The jumper was small, and filled with their limited supplies. It was raining, otherwise John would've sat outside, where he could breathe...

"That's because I feel 'a bit not good," John told him tightly. Damn, maybe Rodney wasn't that oblivious after all. John rubbed Jett's back, the movement reassuring despite the fact that the animal was obviously asleep. "Why ask if it's that obvious?"

"Isn't that what a person is supposed to do in that situation?" Rodney asked, frowning.

John just shrugged. He wasn't sure he knew much of anything anymore.

"Well," Rodney continued "I won't bother next time then."

But they both knew he would, and John appreciated it. He did.

He did.

Still, the next few minutes were full of awkward silence and uncertain glances. John, for his part, still felt embarrassed over his earlier outburst – although none of his friends seemed to be holding it against him – and Rodney, true to his nature, seemed to have no idea what to say either.

Eventually, after the scientist had given up fiddling with the dead piece of ancient tech he'd been holding, he decided to speak.

"I hope we get rescued soon," Rodney muttered. "I hate camping."

John's eyebrows rose in mock-surprise and he bit back a smirk. "Really? I hadn't noticed," he deadpanned.

"Why are you so surprised?" Rodney asked, missing the sarcasm completely. John was more surprised by the random change in conversation than the topic, but he decided to keep that to himself. "I complain every time we're forced to stay off-world."

"How am I supposed to know that you're being serious?" John shot back. "You bitch and moan about everything."

"Not true," Rodney replied, but he gave no examples to help argue his case so John took that to mean that Rodney knew he was wrong but was too stubborn to admit it.

"I used to go camping a lot when I was a kid," John offered instead, not sure why he was opening up. Maybe it was because he thought he owed Rodney something, after the scene he'd made earlier. Or maybe he was just tired. He shrugged anyway and continued, "I've always liked it."

"Of course you would," Rodney replied with an exaggerated eye roll. "You're athletic. Active. I'm…not."

"You're more active now than you were when we first left Earth," John pointed out.

"Yes, well," Rodney replied. "It's not like I've had much choice. I don't exactly have time for a stitch when we're running for our lives."

"Right," John acknowledged. It was true, but for once, John thought that Rodney was underestimating himself, and what he was capable of. Oh, he'd never win in a fight –even Rodney would admit that - but where the old Rodney would've run away, this Rodney would try to fight anyway. It was an improvement in all the ways that really mattered.

"So," Rodney began again. His tone was almost painfully casual, which was always a warning sign when it came to Rodney. "Did you go camping with your brother when you were a kid?"

This time John really was surprised…

"How do you know I have a brother?" John asked.

"Ronon," Rodney replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I also happen to know that you're filthy, stinking rich."

"No I'm not," John replied, tensing slightly. "I grew up rich. My family was rich."

"Seriously, though," Rodney carried on, seemingly oblivious to John's intense desire to talk about absolutely anything else. "It must be great to know you've always got something to fall back on."

"I don't," John told him bluntly, more to shut the man up than anything. "I make my own way. I always have and I always will." John paused. "Besides, my dad didn't leave me anything in his will."

"What?" Rodney asked. "Why?"

"He didn't like me much," John told him, hating the fact that he'd started this conversation now. He didn't want to talk about this, especially in light of his father's many appearances in his latest nightmares. "He…had a different plan for me. Wanted me to take over his business eventually but…"

He trailed off, but Rodney looked riveted.

"But what…?"

John sighed. "It sounded so…boring. I just wanted to fly. So that's what I did. I left for the Airforce and never looked back."

"You never spoke?"

"Not after that last argument, just before I left," John told him. "He'd already practically disowned me by that point anyway but after that night…I knew once I left that I'd never be welcomed back, and since my brother Dave took his side, even though my father's dead now, it doesn't matter. Dave has made damn sure I won't see a cent of the old man's fortune, even if I wanted it." John gave Rodney a pointed look. "Which I don't."

His father's funeral was something he didn't like to think of often, and not just because he'd spent the latter part of the trip being beaten up by an android-thing. His brother's cool reception had hardly been surprising given their history, but it had still hurt.

And now, being abandoned by his team – his new family - had only caused that old hurt to resurface…

"That…sucks," Rodney said.

"Yeah," John agreed, running a hand through his hair.

Jett growled at something in his dreams, drawing the attention of the two men - Rodney especially, who had tensed at the noise. John placed a hand on the dog's side, relieved to feel a steady heartbeat under all that black fur. It had the added bonus of calming Jett down, which allowed Rodney to relax again.

"So," Rodney began a little uncomfortably. "How's the mutt doing?"

John raised his eyebrows. Was Rodney changing the subject on purpose? Was Rodney being…tactful?

"What?" Rodney asked, misinterpreting the look on John's face. "You said I couldn't ask about how you were, but you never said anything about the dog."

"He's fine."

"Carson check him out?"

"Yeah," John replied. "He said that the stitches probably saved Jett's life."

"Nasty scratch marks," Rodney commented. "Did you ever find out what caused them?"

"I think it was one of his own kind," John said. "But bigger."

"What?" Rodney yelped, his eyes immediately darting towards the open hatch.

John almost smiled. "Relax. I haven't seen one of them up close, but I hear them occasionally, barking, particularly at night. They don't come to this area for some reason though."

"Huh, I wonder why…" Rodney muttered to himself, fear gone as he lost himself in the puzzle. It was such a Rodney thing to do, and it made John realise just how much he'd missed his friend.

"I'm glad you're here, Rodney," John said quietly.

"I'm glad I'm here too," Rodney replied. "I mean, not here, obviously, because there's no shower, or electricity, and I hate the rain and camping, but I'm…"

John just looked at him until Rodney got the message.

"Right," Rodney said. "Sorry. I'm just….I'm glad we found you."

"Me too, buddy," John replied, and he was surprised to find that it was true. "Me too."

Ronon, it turned out, did not actually need a great big, native dog to hunt the local wildlife; he could manage perfectly well by himself. John tried not to feel inadequate as he quietly chewed on the freshly cooked meat, but he wasn't sure he entirely managed it. He pushed the feeling down though, recognising that it was a stupid train of thought.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Beckett asked, having clearly been watching him closely.

John's eyes met Rodney's and he had to bite back a grin.

"Fine," John replied, not quite sure if that was the truth or not. He decided that it was the best answer he could give at the moment; not good, not bad, just…fine. Adequate. Okay.

"Ready to go home?" Carson asked.

John hesitated, because even though he knew his answer probably should have been straightforward and easy, it wasn't. He'd been stuck on a nowhere planet for over a month, with no one and nothing to keep him going, apart from a stray puppy the size of a small bear. He'd accepted that his life would never go back to what it was before. He'd accepted that he would never return to Atlantis.

He'd given up.

John shivered slightly, even though he wasn't cold. He was a different man now, and Atlantis was a different prospect. He still felt…feral, even surrounded by his friends. He wondered if he would ever feel like he belonged somewhere again…

John sighed heavily and ran a hand through his messy hair, then he gave the only answer he could. "Yeah."

"You don't sound too sure…" Rodney commented suspiciously.

"It's just…I've missed a lot, haven't I?" John said. Then a thought struck him. "Who's in command now?"

"Oh," Rodney frowned, gesturing towards Lorne, who had been quiet up until now. "Lorne was."

"And now?" John pressed.

This time Lorne spoke. "We didn't replace you, Sir, if that's what you're worried about?"

John let out a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding.

"We were never going to replace you, John," Teyla said softly. "Not until we knew for certain we could not get you back."

"And that was never going to happen," Rodney added. "Not on my watch. We were always going to get you back."

"I know," John muttered, and he did know, now at least. Hell, they had got him back.

He needed to get over it, he told himself forcefully. He was the same John Sheppard he'd always been. He was.

And even if he wasn't, his friends didn't care. They'd found him. Against all odds, and against his own expectations, they had found him. And even though he knew it might take Rodney a couple of days to fix the jumper or work out a way to contact the Daedalus, John also knew that they would get him home to Atlantis.

They would bring him home.

He was going home.

A/N - So how was it? Is anyone still interested in this story? I hope so. I still have a few things to resolve - such as what's going to happen with Jett - so I hope there's at least enough interest out there to justify my efforts to finish this. Please let me know. For now, and until next time, thank you for reading!