Just a little drabble for the 'Letter from John' challenge on the GW thread. It's unbeta'd, so apologies in advance for any errors...

Warnings:- None.

Disclaimer:- SGA, isn't mine unfortunately.

"Hi Dad,

It's me.

Of course you probably already got that from the handwriting, that, or the military postmark.

I know we haven't spoken for a while, hell we aren't even speaking now 'cause this is just a letter. Why am I contacting you? Well, that's a good question. Let's just say something happened today that's made me want to clear up unfinished business, try to put things right between us, because life is unpredictable. No one knows what's going to happen next, least of all me these days – but that's as much as I can say about the life I'm leading now.

Fact is dad; my life has turned out okay. I have a job I love in the most awesome place, and the people, they're like family. Don't get me wrong, I know you and Dave are my blood, but let's face it I never fitted into to the life you led – the life you wanted me to lead. Here, the folks I work with get me, they really do, and more important I make a difference here, probably for the first time in my life.

Anyway, I'm not saying these things to wind you up, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. Not for the decision I made, because I'd never regret that – flying is my life. No, my only regret is the way things were left between us.

Back then I was only a kid. A hot-headed youngster who was fired up and ready to go, and no one, least of all you, could have stopped me. Things were said, cruel shit, unkind words from both of us. Words I didn't mean, and if I could take them back I would. Older and wiser, I now understand where you were coming from. As my dad you only wanted the best for me, the thing is if you're really honest, the kind of life you wanted me to have was yours, and I'm just not the corporate type.

Where I am now, is classified. I know what Dave thinks about that. He reckons it's a load of garbage, a story I've made up to get out of coming to visit, keep in touch. Shit, if I was in his shoes, I might even think the same thing – but it's true. It always was, and if I could come round right now instead of sending this dumb letter I would.

One day, if the powers that be allow, I hope to pay that visit. Right now, I've got to go, cause the drugs they've got me on are making me kind of woozy - I'm okay, as least I will be soon, so please, don't worry about me.

Till we meet again, take care, and give my best to Dave.

John."

ooooOoooo

Carson watched in the shadows as his patient fell asleep and the paper fluttered to the ground.

After the euphoria of the day before, John had had a rough night. He'd won his battle with the grim reaper, but survival had come at a price, and now the powerful toxin released from that bloody bug was playing havoc with his system.

Sheppard's temperature had risen steadily during the day peaking at 102, leaving his body slicked with sweat, and his hair flat, against his wane face. A rash had appeared shortly afterwards, raised, raw ugly welts, but what worried Carson most was when the normally calm, in control, major suddenly became agitated…

"Is this it? Is this what he was making all the fuss about?" Rodney stood there with the paper in his hand and was about to read it, when Carson snatched it from his hand.

Carson sighed, and felt the heat infuse his cheeks. "Whatever it is Rodney, is none of our business." He said, trying to keep the anger out his voice. "Anyway, he's asleep now, so keep your voice down."

"Well, it looked like a letter to me," Rodney grumbled, then started to rant. "which is a really dumb thing to do – because last I heard the Pegasus galaxy wasn't part of the US postal service."

Taking a deep breath to control his irritation, Carson gave Rodney a look. "I'm sure the Major knows that, Rodney, but he isn't exactly himself at the moment. Besides, a lot of people simply like to write something down on paper to give them closure – it's a recognised psychiatric tool."

Rodney rolled his eyes, then his expression changed and became concerned as he looked at the prone, still man on the bed. "Is he gonna be okay?"

Carson took the control and lowered John's bed as he spoke. "Aye, I believe so. I just wish I knew more about that bloody Iratus bug. I might have been about to do more for the laddie, and know what else to expect if I had information. Still, I daresay, there is a lot out here we still have to learn."

Carson checked John's vitals for a final time, then pulled the sheet up over his shoulders. He then dimmed the lights.

"Are you ever sorry you came, Carson? I wasn't until today, when I thought we were going to lose…" Rodney's voice trailed away, and his face went pale.

The Scot put a hand on his shoulder. "Honestly, son - sometimes. I miss my home and my old mum, but then I remember what we're doing out here. The work we do is important, Rodney, but I don't need to tell you that." Carson gave Sheppard a sideways glance. "And no one knows that more than him. Yesterday was a scunner, Rodney, and I won't deny it was a close one, but he got through it, we all did. Yet there are going to be days, when we'll lose people. Good people, friends we care about, but we signed up for this expedition for a reason, and in the whole, I believe they'll be more good, than bad days. Now what say we leave this man to rest, and go to my office for a coffee? I still have some of the good stuff left."

Rodney raked a hand through his hair. "What about the letter?"

Carson folded it, put it in his pocket and smiled. "It'll be here until he's ready to decide what to do."

The scientist nodded. "Fine, I'll ask him about it later."

The Scot nearly choked. "Good luck with that. I may not know him well so far, but I just get the feeling our major is a private man, so I wouldn't hold your breath in getting that reply…

THE END

I little short, non violent tale from me ( for a change!) hope you liked it.