Finally. It took longer to revise than I thought – sorry all! Long, final chapter ahoy! And, wow, thank you all again so, so much for the reviews. I can't tell you how much I appreciate them!

NIGHT HIGHWAY (or Why Rodney Never Went to Niagara Falls)
By TIPPER

——————————————————————————————

CHAPTER SIX: FALLING APART, COMING TOGETHER

He was cold.

It was the first thing he noticed. He was cold.

He moved his arm, to pull his blanket up higher, but his arm didn't want to move. Something was stuck to it, and it hurt to move.

He frowned.

He was cold!

He started to shiver, and he tried to listen, to see if he could hear his parents. If they were home, he could call out.

He wet his throat, and swallowed. It hurt to swallow.

His fingers curled, and he felt scratchy sheets, pilly. His sheets weren't pilly. They were also slightly damp. He felt damp. It was weird—like that one time he went camping, and woke up covered head to toe in dew. He'd hated that. He didn't get why Craig had liked camping so much if you woke up wet and uncomfortable. How was that fun?

Sounds filtered into his ears, and he realized he could hear something beeping softly, thought it was getting quicker. He didn't know what that was. Or what was stuck to his hand. It pulled at his skin—he didn't like that.

He shivered again.

Why was it so cold?

He tried to open his eyes, but they didn't want to open. He tried again. He managed to get in some light, but that was it. He was starting to get scared now. Why couldn't he open his eyes?

He tried a third time, really thinking about forcing his eyes open.

He saw that sliver of white light again, then more. It took a lot of blinking, but, finally, he got his eyes open.

He looked around, trying to understand what he was looking at.

Where was he? What was this place?

The room was a funny blue color, with a white ceiling and a window with slatted blinds. Sunlight was pouring through the slats, filling the room with brightness. It was too much after the darkness of before, and he squinted and averted his eyes from the window.

Was it a hospital? It kinda looked like one. What had happened?

"Mom?" he called softly. His throat hurt. He didn't care. "Mom? Dad?" Fear thrilled through his bones, and he tugged at the plastic tube stuck to his hand. "Mom?"

He heard a door open, and, still blinking sleepily, managed to turn his head away from the window.

"Mom?"

It wasn't Mom.

A large, blonde woman walked in wearing a white coat and pink pants. She carried a tray covered in little cups. At seeing him awake, she smiled.

"There you are, Meredith," she said cheerfully, her voice a sort of belly croak. Rodney frowned, but she didn't notice. Reaching his side, she placed the tray she was carrying on the little nightstand next to his bed and then smiled down at him, placing her hands on her hips.

"Well, sweetie, you sure gave everyone a scare, I can tell you. Especially your parents." She reached around behind him and plumped his pillow, and he instinctively tried to get away, not liking being trapped between those enormous tree-trunk like arms. She laughed at him, and he gritted his teeth at the sound.

"Jumpy, ain't ya?" she asked, leaning back. "Well, that's okay. It can be scary waking up here, I know. But don't worry," she reached over and patted his head, causing him to flinch, "you're going to be just fine." She smiled again, and, as he studied her face, he realized—she had no idea what she was talking about. She was just trying to make him feel better, thinking he was just a little kid who could be patron...parton...lied to. Well, he wasn't going to stand for that. He hated being lied to! Especially by people who didn't know what they were saying.

He got enough of that at his old school. The one that kicked him out for being a "discipline problem" because he'd yelled at too many of his teachers.

"Go away," he whispered, furious now. He'd try to say it loudly, but even the whisper had been hard.

Her eyebrows lifted high. Then she smiled again, as if he hadn't said a word, and reached for the tray. "Now, now, pumpkin, I'm sure you didn't mean that. Now, I need to give you some—"

"Meant it," he whispered, frowning at her so hard, he started to get a headache. "Go away. I don't like you."

She turned to look at him, eyebrows lifted again. "Well," she said primly, "I'm sorry, Meredith, but I can't. I have to give you your medicine first." She placed her hands on her hips. "And that was very rude of you, just so you know. You should not say such things to grown ups. I'll be telling your mother, believe me."

Rodney felt his anger growing even more, and when she then tried to give him his medicine—a small plastic cup filled with a thick purple liquid, he clamped his lips shut and turned his head.

"Meredith," she scolded, "stop that now. This is to help you feel better."

He just gave a headshake and kept his head averted.

"Now, I know you're not a baby, young man. You're ten—that's too old to act like a child anymore. So look at me."

Rodney set his jaw, his eyes locked on the window.

"Meredith, look at me," she said again.

He frowned, feeling tears forming in his eyes.

"Look at me!" she snapped.

He was so startled by the shout, he did. Next thing he knew, she'd grabbed his chin in her hands and opened his mouth.

"Now drink this," she said sharply. "It's for your own good."

He started to cry. Her fingers hurt, dry and rough, pinching his skin. But he swallowed the liquid, choking only a little when it got stuck in his throat. She let go of his chin and, suddenly, she was all smiles again.

"There now," she cooed. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He couldn't look at her anymore. He found himself staring up at the white ceiling, his cheeks wet, choking back the sob stuck in his chest.

She nodded, swiftly grabbing the tray up again. "I'll tell your parents that you're awake," she said stiffly, turning away. "And your doctor. You'll like him—his name is Bill. However," she lowered her voice, the smile leaving her face, "if I were you, I would not be as rude to him as you were to me. We're only trying to help, after all."

And then she was gone, bustling back through the door, and he'd never even gotten to ask her...

Where was he? Where were his Mom and Dad? He wanted his Mom!

The sob finally burst from his throat, and he started to cry.

Eventually, he cried himself to sleep.

He closed his eyes.

"His fever broke last night," a woman said gently, rubbing a soft, damp cloth over his forehead. "Poor thing. We only just got him comfortable."

He knew that voice—Keller?

"Has he woken up?" Teyla asked.

"Well, you, Colonel Sheppard and Ronon would probably know that better than me," Keller laughed softly. "You've been with him more than I have. Have you seen any sign of wakefulness?"

"No, but...oh...did you see that? I think he moved his hand." Teyla sounded close, and the cloth lifted from his head. "Rodney?" Teyla called, a measure of excitement in her voice. "Rodney, are you waking up?"

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and found Teyla leaning over him. Her face lit up in a smile.

"Welcome back, Doctor McKay," Jennifer Keller said, and Rodney turned to look at her. It was then he knew where he was, and relief and joy swelled through him.

He was home.

Atlantis rose up over their heads, beautiful and welcoming. He could picture it crowning them, spires reaching high to the sun dappled sky, the whole City filled with light. He'd often wondered why the Lantean ships were so plain and utilitarian, like the Jumpers, but the City was so elegant and bright. Perhaps it was for exactly this reason—because of the feeling it gave you when you finally made it home. He'd never been so happy to see its arched pillars and bubbling scenery.

He looked back at Keller, and she was smiling. He opened his mouth to say something, and her eyes widened before she quickly shook her head at him.

"Oh, wait, don't," she said. "Don't try to speak, okay? Your throat's not really up to that yet. But," she smiled again, "You're probably wondering what happened." She gave a small shrug. "And I'd love to let Teyla tell you, but...I don't think you're going to stay awake long enough to hear it."

He blinked at her, but didn't disagree. He was already feeling sleepy again.

"So, the short version," Keller told him, "you're going to be fine. Your team got you home, and we took care of the infection; the swelling has already mostly gone down. Your temperature is settling back to normal. Right now, your body just needs rest and fluids. You're going to be feeling pretty weak for a while, but it'll get better. I promise."

Funnily, he believed her.

He gave a small smile, and turned back to Teyla. He was blinking slower now, and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. She leaned against the bed, gripping his arm in her hands.

"You can sleep, Rodney," she promised. "We'll be here when you wake up."

He watched her a moment, felt her grip on his arm, and smiled again.

She could go anywhere, but she wouldn't leave him.

And he believed her, too.

"Go back to sleep, Rodney," she whispered. "We are not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes.

Something warm and bulky was lying by his side, preventing him from moving. It was like someone had stuck a furnace up against his body, and he woke up warily, confused as to what it might be.

Slowly, he managed to peel his eyelids back. He was in that blue room again. Had to be a hospital. He blinked some more, then tilted his head to see what was lying on the bed with him.

Jeannie's head was pressed to his chest, all unruly blonde hair and light, snuffling snoring. She shifted and pressed closer to him, wrapping around him like he was her stuffed unicorn.

He sniffed, and, after finding out that he no longer had that tube stuck to his hand...poked at her head.

She didn't wake up.

"Jeannie," he whispered, poking harder.

She made a protesting noise, and snuggled harder. He rolled his eyes.

And slapped the top of her head.

She jerked awake, her eyes wide. "Hey!" she snapped. "You hit me!" Then, a second later, her eyes widened, and she grinned. "You hit me! You're awake! You've been sleeping forever, Mer! But you're awake! You're awake! You're awake!" She punctuated the repetition by bouncing on the hospital bed.

He hit her again. She leaned back, and placed her hands on her hips. "That wasn't nice," she said crossly. "I'm your sister. You have to be nice to me. Mom says so."

He was about to hit her again, but she reminded him of something. He lowered his hand, and asked, "Where's Mom?" His voice croaked like a frog, and he grimaced.

Jeannie was about to answer, when, as if on cue, his mother suddenly appeared in the doorway to the room.

"Jeanne! There you are! Good God, young lady! You terrified the hell out of me, running off like that! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Jeannie sat up more, pouting slightly. "I wanted to see Mer."

"And I told you, you couldn't! He's been very sick, Jeannie! I don't want you catching what he..." His mother trailed off, her eyes on Rodney for the first time. For a moment, she said nothing, then, slowly, she smiled.

"You're awake," she said, sounding breathless all of a sudden. "Baby, you're awake."

Before he could answer, she was suddenly by his side, nearly crashing into the hospital bed in her hurry. She grabbed his head, and, before he could stop her, planted a kiss on his forehead and had buried her head next to his on the pillow, pressing their cheeks together.

"You're awake," she whispered again, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Okay, he thought. This is weird. Neither of his parents were much for gestures of affection.

For a moment, he didn't move, almost afraid to. Then, a little nervously, he reached up the hand he'd hit his sister with and patted his mother's shoulder awkwardly.

"It's okay," he said, feeling sort of lame.

He felt his mother suck in a breath, then she was standing up again, smiling down at him. The smile was then turned on his sister, and Jeannie raised her eyebrows.

"Jeannie, honey, go fetch your father, would you? He's over by the phones. You remember where those are? Tell him Mer's awake, will you?"

Jeannie gave a nod, and slipped off the bed. A moment later, and she was gone.

His mother sat down on the bed, still smiling that strange smile, and grabbed at his hand to hold it in both of hers.

"Mom?"

She lifted her eyebrows. "Yes, honey?"

"Where are we?"

"Oh." She looked surprised by the question. "Has no one told you? You're in a hospital, baby. In Buffalo, New York. We're not far from Niagara Falls, did you know that? Maybe we can convince your father to stop there on our way to Montreal."

He frowned a little. "Why?"

"Why stop at the Falls? Because they're supposed to be amazing. You'd like to see them, wouldn't you?"

He frowned more. Sure, he would. Craig had been to see them on a trip with his parents, and had boasted about going under them. Rodney'd really wanted to do that. But...that's not what he wanted to know.

"No," he whispered, "What happened? Why are we here?" And, silently, he asked, am I going to be okay?

"Oh," she looked down, the smile finally slipping from her face. "Well," she pursed her lips, pondering the answer, then tilted her head and looked towards the window. "You got sick, baby. Very sick. We brought you here so the doctor's could make you better. They did, though for a while there..." She trailed off, still not looking at him. When she finally did turn her head back, her eyes were shining, and the smile was back. "But you're awake now. Everything is fine."

He didn't totally understand that, mainly because it told him nothing. What had been wrong with him? He wanted to know so that he could stop it from happening again. I mean...it wasn't going to happen again, was it?

He was about to ask, when his father's solid form appeared in the doorway, and Rodney couldn't help but smile. Jeannie hovered just behind him, her hand gripping his and peering around his legs.

He didn't notice how his mother stopped smiling at the exact same time.

"Hey, kid," Richard McKay said, taking in the room as if he owned it. "How are you feeling?"

"Hi, Dad," Rodney whispered back. "Okay."

Richard smiled at him a moment longer, then turned to look down at Jeannie. Without a word, she grimaced, let go his hand and turned around. "I'll be outside," she muttered unhappily. "Hate the chairs in the hallway, though."

Richard chuckled, gave her a pat on the head as she left, then walked the rest of the way to Rodney's bedside. He smiled again at his son, his hands going behind his back to clasp together.

That felt more normal. Rodney pulled his hand free of his mother's grip.

"So..." his father began, then paused, and, Rodney realized his father didn't know what to say. "Um..."

"Dad," he said—maybe his father would tell him more than his mom, "what happened to me?"

Richard frowned as well, glancing at Mary, then back at the boy. "Oh. Well, to be honest," he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck, "I'm not totally sure. The doctors have been sort of vague. They said you developed some sort of infection, bacterial I believe, a bit like strep but with additional complications. It's apparently contagious, so they gave you your own room. Besides the fever and the rash, the infection eventually caused your throat to swell when you started coughing to fight it." He gave a shrug. "Your mother was right about that." He didn't look at her when he said that. "Of course," he smirked and leaned in a little closer, "you ask me, most medicine is just voodoo. The doctors don't really know what was wrong with you, but they pumped you full of antibiotics and it did the trick. Your fever broke, and your body is now fighting the infection on its own, as it should." He smiled now and leaned back. "All that's really important is that you're on the mend now. You'll be up and about and torturing your sister in no time."

Rodney frowned some more and looked down, taking that in. A bacterial infection. He'd have to look that up later. He wasn't sure what "bacterial" or "strep" meant.

"Mary," Richard said then, "Can I talk to you outside for a second?"

His mother was still sitting on his bed, and Rodney saw her face go cold at that question.

"Why?" she asked pointedly.

"Please, Mary," Richard said, glancing again at Rodney before looking back at her. "It's important."

"More so than your son?" Mary asked, her tone clipped.

Rodney almost groaned. Why did it never stop?

"Please, Mary," Richard said again. "This will only take a minute."

Mary grimaced, but finally she sighed. She stood up and patted Rodney's leg through the blanket.

"Be right back, Mer," she promised.

Rodney nodded, and watched as she followed his father to the doorway.

Richard came to a stop on the threshold, and looked down.

"Mary, I talked to the school and..." His father shook his head. "I need to get going."

Rodney felt his chest hollow out again. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't. His father had lowered his voice, but he could still hear him. Couldn't they tell he could hear them? His fingers scrabbled at the sheets, bunching them up into his hands.

"What?" Mary asked, crossing her arms, her expression thunderous. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. Look, I promised them I'd be there yesterday. Obviously, because of Rodney, I'm now late. They understood, but they stressed that I really need to be there tomorrow. If I leave now, I think—"

"Richard, no," Mary said, dropping her arms by her side. "We can't leave with Mer like this. He can't possibly travel until—"

"Not us," Richard said then, shaking his head. "Just me. I'll rent a car. You keep the Olds. You can drive up when Rodney's ready to travel, and I'll meet you there."

"Richard..."

"Look, I can't afford not to go. Besides Rodney's special schooling, they're going to be providing us with a lot of benefits, not the least of which is to pay off most of our debts. If I—"

"Richard, no. Please." Mary stepped forward, placing a hand on his father's chest. "Richard, think about it. The doctors told me to keep Jeannie away from Meredith. If I do that, there will be no one to sit with him. He'll be alone."

Rodney's father shrugged. "So? He'll be okay. He's a big boy, Mary, and sovery smart." He smiled proudly. "He'll understand once we explain it to him." His smile fell as he shrugged again. "And it'll probably be good for him—show him that he's strong enough to be on his own, that he doesn't need us. It's not like we can hold his hand forever."

Mary's eyes narrowed, then softened. "And what if he has a relapse?" she asked quietly. "You know it's a possibility. They said so."

Richard just stared at her, then lowered his eyes. "I have to go, Mary. You know I do. He'll be okay." He looked up at her again. "He'll be okay," he said again, and Rodney wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

His mother stared at Richard for a long time, then her hand fell away from his chest. It was as if she'd been rendered speechless. Rodney had never seen her that way before—he always imagined that nothing could stop her from talking, especially when she was upset.

"So," his father said, shrugging uncomfortably this time, "I'll just...I need to go now. I'm just going to say goodbye to Rodney and then head off. I booked you and Jeannie a room at a nearby motel. Here's the information..." He handed her a slip of paper. His mother took it without really looking at it.

"Wow," she said quietly, staring down at the slip.

"Wow?" Richard repeated. "What does that mean?"

His mother looked up from the paper. There was no anger on her face. Just loss. "Nothing," she said. "I just...okay." She looked down again. "I suppose I should be happy."

Richard frowned. "Happy? About what?"

Mary closed her eyes. Shook her head once, then looked up at him again. The coldness was back. "Say goodbye to your son, Richard," she ordered quietly.

Richard frowned more, but didn't disagree. Turning, he walked back inside. He stopped briefly when he saw Rodney's eyes on him, then continued the rest of the way forward.

"Hey, Rodney," he said, smiling again.

"Don't go," Rodney said. Please. Please, don't go. Don't leave.

The hollowness in his chest felt like it was going to swallow him whole.

His father's brow furrowed slightly, then cleared.

"I'm sorry, son," he said, sitting on the bed. "But I have to. Look, it'll be okay. I'm going to just go on ahead and make sure everything's ready for you guys when you come. I'll get your room set up and—"

"How?" Rodney asked. "You won't have the Olds. My stuff's in the trailer."

His father frowned, and he shrugged. "Okay, you have me there. Look, tell you what. I know you've wanted one of those little black and white portable TVs. How about I get you one of those?" He leaned in closer and winked. "You can watch all those shows you like that your mother doesn't want you to watch." He leaned back. "What do you say?"

Well...he did want one of those TVs.

But...

"I don't want you to go," he whispered again. "Please."

Richard looked down, then up again. His expression was closed now. "I'm sorry, Rodney. It's not up to me." He shook his head and took a step back. "I'll see you soon, okay?" He backed up another step.

But it is up to you, Rodney thought. You just don't want to stay.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because his father frowned deeply. The darkness in his eyes was horrible.

"Goodbye, son."

His father turned his back and walked away. As he left the room, he nodded at his mother, who was still standing there, leaning against the doorframe. She didn't acknowledge him.

A second later, his father was gone.

"Don't go," Rodney whispered one more time. His mother closed her eyes.

Rodney listened as he heard his father say goodbye to Jeannie in the hallway. He didn't actually understand any of the words, except for Jeannie's scream at his father not to leave. A few minutes later, he could hear Jeannie crying.

His mother was still in the doorway, her gaze locked on the floor.

After a few moments, her gaze lifted, and she stared right at him.

But he didn't think she saw him.

"I have to get Jeannie something to eat," she said tonelessly. Without waiting for him to say something, she turned and left the room.

Jeannie's crying stopped a moment later.

Rodney stared at the empty doorway for a long time.

It took a while for him to realize that no one else was going to come in. They weren't coming back.

He knew what the hollowness was now. He understood.

He turned away and looked towards the window.

It was night again. Stars twinkled through the slats. The stars were that always there.

He sniffed, and wiped a hand across his face, getting rid of the wetness.

He wondered what the stars were called. They must have names. Maybe he could learn to name them like he could cars. Maybe if he could, he could go up there someday.

And away from here.

He closed his eyes.

"Wake up," Ronon order, hitting his arm.

Rodney did, his eyes popping open in surprise. Ronon grinned.

"Hey!" Keller said from somewhere. "I said you could sit with him and keep him company if you didn't agitate him. That looked like agitating to me!"

"It'd be agitating if I didn't do that," Ronon replied, grinning over his shoulder at her. "Besides, it worked, didn't it?"

Keller sighed heavily and muscled him aside, which was pretty funny, considering he could probably eat her, she was so small. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Hey, McKay. How are you feeling?"

He thought about that. Actually, apart from feeling really weak, he felt pretty good. He opened his mouth, then closed it—remembering Keller's order from before.

"Oh," her eyebrows lifted up, "No, no. You can talk now. Well, whisper at least. It's been long enough that I think your vocal cords are pretty much healed. In fact," she smiled brightly, "there are some folks here who have been anxiously awaiting the sound of your voice."

"I wouldn't go that far," Sheppard said quickly from Rodney's right. Rodney tilted his head that way, and found not only Sheppard standing near his head, but Teyla as well, smiling down at him. Sheppard quirked an eyebrow at him. "Wanting to hear his voice is a bit like wanting to remember that 80s song you really liked, but, once you do, you not only remember that it wasn't a very good song, but it gets stuck in your head and it's the most annoying—"

"Oh, you suck," Rodney whispered, rolling his eyes.

Ronon laughed, and Teyla grinned up at Sheppard.

"Nice first words," Keller said cheerfully. "And so accurate! He knows you so well," she said, narrowing her eyes playfully at the Colonel.

"Oh, ha ha," Sheppard said, crossing his arms and pretending to glare at her.

Keller laughed, and looked down again at Rodney. Her smile grew more gentle. "So, just for the record, you feel okay? You feel good? Aside from what I'm guessing is a little weakness?" Her eyebrows lifted.

He looked at the others around his bed, then back at her. "Yeah," he whispered. "I'm good."

"Okay, then." She patted his shoulder. "Then I'm going to leave you with this lot. The minute they start annoying you, though," her eyebrows lifted, "you let me know and I'll kick them out." She leaned in. "Believe me," she stressed quietly, "I'mmore than happy to kick out Ronon and Colonel Sheppard. They've been a burr in my side since you got here." She smiled again and backed away, shooting the two men dark looks in the face of their innocent gazes. Then she smiled more warmly at the Athosian. "Teyla, of course, can stay as long as she wants."

"Thank you," Teyla replied smugly.

Keller laughed again, and turned away, siding past Ronon in order to leave them alone.

Ronon watched her leave, then turned back to Rodney. "So, you're good?" he asked.

Rodney gave a small nod, then grimaced a little. For the first time, he realized there was bandages around his neck—the front and the back. He reached up to touch it, but his arms felt leaden. He frowned, and looked over at Sheppard.

"What happened?" he asked hoarsely. "My neck..."

Sheppard grimaced, showing his teeth. "Oh yeah, that. Um..." He looked over at Ronon, then down again. "You kinda stopped breathing at one point. We couldn't get any air down your throat because it was too swollen so..." He grimaced again, as if he didn't like to talk about it.

"Ronon performed a tracheotomy, " Teyla supplied smoothly.

Rodney's eyes widened, and he looked up Ronon.

"You cut into my throat?" he whispered.

"Got you breathing," the big man said, shrugged.

Rodney was speechless.

"He saved your life," Teyla said, as if that wasn't clear.

Rodney looked at her, then up at Sheppard. The Colonel gave him a sort of, 'yeah, he did, though it was kinda gross', look. Rodney eyes stayed wide as he looked back at Ronon.

"Thank you," he whispered finally. It seemed all he could think of to say.

"Yeah, well," Ronon shrugged, "Wouldn't have helped for long. Sheppard's the one who got you home in time. A few more hours, and you wouldn't have made it."

"That's true," Teyla said, and Rodney turned to look at her. She nodded down at him. "Colonel Sheppard managed to destroy the Hive we had hitched a ride on. It not only saved the people on the planet, but we were able to come through the Stargate without impediment."

"Oh, to be fair," Sheppard said, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have worked if you hadn't confused the Wraith long enough for me to get the shots off. You saved all our butts with that one, Teyla."

For a moment, she looked like she would argue, but, instead, she smiled and blushed, ducking her head.

Rodney just looked around at the three of them. He really didn't know what to say. What could he say?

"I—" He frowned. "I—"

"Hey," Sheppard punched his arm softly. "You would have done the same for any of us."

Yes.

Yes, he would.

It was kind of amazing. There was a time...there was a time when he wouldn't have.

Just like there was a time when he had no one who would sit by his bedside.

But now there was no question. There wasn't even hesitation.

And he didn't feel hollow anymore.

He turned to look at Sheppard. The Colonel met his gaze, then smiled. He knew.

"Thank you," Rodney said softly.

Sheppard rolled his eyes a little, then grinned. "You know how you can thank us? Help me teach them how to play Bridge."

With a flourish, the Colonel whipped a pack of cards out of his back pocket.

"Oh," Teyla groaned, looking like she was in pain. Ronon just sighed.

"No, really!" Sheppard dropped the cards out of the box into his hand. "You're going to love this!" He started shuffling, grinning some more. "It'll be great."

Rodney couldn't complain. It wasn't one of his favorite games, but...how could he complain? In fact, he felt a growing love for the game as Ronon and Teyla went to pull up two more chairs in addition to the one that was already by Rodney's bedside. Sheppard continued to shuffle, watching the other two. Rodney settled back on the bed, feeling a little sleepy, but not wanting to close his eyes.

"Okay," Sheppard said finally, when three chairs had been positioned around Rodney's bed. He sat down in the chair next to Rodney's head, Teyla at his right and Ronon opposite. Apparently, Rodney's legs were going to be the table. "Ronon," Sheppard said, dealing out the cards, "you're going to be my partner, and Teyla, you'll be Rodney's. Now, the first thing you have to learn about Bridge," he smiled at them all, "is that it is a team game." He turned to Rodney, then arched an eyebrow when Rodney blinked a little too slowly. "And you," he said, pointing a finger, "don't you dare close your eyes."

Rodney feigned a glare. But he didn't close his eyes.

——————————————————————————————

The End.

I know. I'm a sap. Hope you liked it! I'd really love to hear what you think.

And, I really, really can't thank you enough for the reviews. There's just no words. They're all saved. :)