"Everybody's Fine" by ShipperWriter

Summary: Atlantis has made it back to Earth. But standing on that balcony, John can only think about one thing: Elizabeth. Post-EatG series finale. Don't let the summary fool you. It gets better.

As usual, reviews are appreciated!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Well, not related to the Stargate, at least.


Everybody finally went inside after spending some time out on the balcony, admiring the view, wondering about what would happen next. Most of the expedition was still thinking they were living in a daydream. They really made it home. They were actually seeing the San Francisco Bridge for the first time in years. The city was full of excitement and joy.

But out on the balcony, Lt. Col. John Sheppard remained. To be honest, he didn't even feel like he could move. The majority of those that had come through the 'Gate the first time, five years ago, had made it to see a safe return to Earth. Everybody who should have been there next to him on the balcony was there. With a few exceptions. And one big one.

He sighed in resignation. She should be here. She should be right here, standing right next to me. Arms supporting her as she leaned on the guardrail, smiling with her lips and her eyes as she admired the view, calm exterior hiding the flurry of burdens and concerns inside. Just like old times. He got frustrated with himself. The unexpected had happened. He admitted he could have handled it better than he did. He liked to feel that things were getting better, that he was coping with it.

"It's all my fault," he said to no one in particular. "She deserves to see this."

He ran one hand through his crazy, dark, uncontrollable hair. At least there was one thing about him that hadn't changed over the years.

With a weary sigh, his other hand dove into his pocket on his fatigues and pulled out his camera. He snapped a few pictures, then headed back inside. "Ob well."

He navigated through the city, entered a lift which took him to the infirmary, and found his way to Dr. Jennifer Keller. As he rounded the corner outside her office, near the mostly empty patient beds, John suddenly got very anxious and grumpy.

"Rodney?" he said, his voice a warning in itself.

Rodney McKay was standing facing the doctor, his back to John. He slowly pivoted in place as he advanced towards him. "McKay ... give me my son."

Rodney glanced at the bundle in his arms, wrapped in a soft cotton blue blanket. "Bu - but she said I could hold him!" he whined, making the cautious father move in front of his arrogant friend. John put his large agile hands over his son's small ears, glaring at Rodney.

"He's a newborn, McKay."

McKay smirked. "So?"

"It mean his ears," he answered, throwing a nod at his baby, "aren't ready to hear your pitchy, aggravating tone of voice."

"You forgot arrogant and stuck-"

"Rodney?" a soft voice asked behind him. "You might want to give Jack to his father. So far, you've held him more today than he has!"

"But Elizabeth!"

"Rodney, no buts," she chastised in all good fun.

He huffed, "Fine," then cooed at the newest addition to Atlantis as he handed him gently over to his father.

John smiled as he held his son in the crook of his arm, the small head resting comfortably against the joint of his biceps, eyes still closed in sleep. His eyes were still blue, as was the norm with infants, but silently he had already started hoping he would inherit his mother's eye color. His eyes were shaped more like Elizabeth's, he remarked to himself as he studiously checked off his mental list.

He heard Jennifer murmur, "We'll leave you alone for a while. Congratulations again." John could hear the smile in her voice. And without looking, he could see in his mind's eye the medical doctor pulling her boyfriend out of the immediate area. A hushed mention of fruit cups confirmed their departure.

"Well, at least I know he's yours," his wife told him, chuckling.

"Oh?" He turned around, softly bouncing Jack in his arms. "And how did you come to that conclusion, Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth Weir tilted her head to the side as John gently sat on the bed, next to her. She raised her hand, IV line still connected, to their son's head and rubbed it carefully back and forth, so as not to awaken him.

She glanced up at John. Jack's hair was already matching John's, both in color and direction.

"Need I say more?"

"Ha. Nah, I think you could do with some sleep, 'Lizbeth. You are amazing. I can't believe you made it through all that."

"I've survived worse," she half-joked, half-reminded him with a slight smile.

Transferring Jack back into his mother's arms for a moment, John leaned even closer and kissed her tenderly. He touched his forehead to hers, whispering, "I love you so much."

"I love you."

They smiled at each other, then John pulled himself upright. "So. You want to call him Jack?"

"Well, for short. John Patrick Sheppard. The honor can go to any three men. If we call him John, that's obvious. And if he wants to go by Jack, well, I'm sure General O'Neill would be thrilled. He and Colonel Carter have already called, relaying congratulations."

"How does he al - never mind." John nodded over her suggestions as he considered them, and then he stopped. "Patrick? As in my father?"

She nodded in her most diplomatic manner. "I thought it would be appropriate."

"Really?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow up while his voice conveyed intrigue. "And what's your reasoning behind that?"

Elizabeth smiled, then motioned for John to cradle the sleeping baby once again. She raised her hand up to John's cheek. "Because, if your father hadn't existed," she began to reason, "then I would not be married to the most kind, loving, considerate, loyal man in any galaxy."

John nodded. "Nope. You'd just be hangin' out with the hot flyboy who messed up your Antarctic project."

"Well, I don't mind him tagging along as well. As I recall, a date with that hot flyboy, as you say, is how Jack came into this world."

John had to laugh. And it was true.

TBC ...