Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing! No profit etc.

So my Season 4 box set arrived yesterday, and it kind of got me in the mood for some S4 based fic. This is a tag (of sorts) for Adrift and Lifeline, so spoilers for those two episodes.

Please review :)

-SGA-

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard listened to Samantha Carter's footsteps fade away as she left him alone on the balcony.

The balcony where he and Elizabeth used to come and talk all the time, only now…

Staring up at the two strange moons in the sky, he tried to keep his emotions in check.

Elizabeth, left behind on that planet, with who knew what kind of fate waiting for her. Death? Or worse.

Never leave a man behind, never ever leave a man behind, because if you did, then-

Trying to distract himself, Sheppard found himself wondering whether Colonel Carter would replace Elizabeth. She had the experience, he supposed, although Landry already wanted her back on Earth. The IOA probably wouldn't wait long before instating a new expedition leader.

Callous bastards.

However, after the past few days – had it only been days? – John knew that he sure as heck didn't want her job.

Turning away from the cold, empty sky, he slipped through the corridors of Atlantis, heading for his quarters. There was damage everywhere, as could be expected- mini asteroid holes, stuff on the floor from his landing, things missing or moved around after having been exposed to space.

As he stepped through the doors, he discovered that his own quarters had not escaped unscathed. His Johnny Cash poster was on the floor next to his bed, his skateboard upended in the middle of the room and the papers that had been on his desk were scattered all over the place. But, flopping listlessly onto the bed, he didn't care.

If only Rodney hadn't seen the code, if we'd just left while things were still going well…

But that was unfair. He knew Elizabeth, and she herself had been all for it; a chance to give the wraith a new race to fight, all the lives that could be saved, the world's that wouldn't be culled. For that matter, if he was going to play if only's, there were many more circumstances since they'd left Lantea that he'd change if he could.

But he couldn't. It was too late. For Elizabeth, anyway.

The light of a strange moon and a myriad of foreign stars gleamed off his ceiling. No, wait. Two moons. Well, five really…

Marooned in the darkness, feeling alone, Sheppard felt a tear squeeze its way past his eyelid as he rapidly tried to blink it away.

Crap. I'm not doing this, not now. She's still out there and I will find her…

He was utterly exhausted. But he couldn't sleep.

Shifting restlessly, he rolled out of bed again, nearly stepping on the skateboard. He kicked it away disconsolately and palmed the door control which slid open with its usual whoosh.

If not oblivion in sleep, then oblivion in exercise it would have to be. He didn't have any alcohol, but even if he did, he figured it probably wouldn't be a good idea to surrender his control so completely.

The dark passageways were empty, quiet. The city was sleeping, and so were her inhabitants.Probably even McKay, though he might be holed up somewhere nursing a coffee and a hefty dose of guilt.

Not that he's the one with anything to feel guilty about. Except reactivating the nanites in the first place, but then if he hadn't, Elizabeth would probably have died along with the rest of us.

Damnit, maybe McKay was right. I gave the order that should have killed her before we even left Atlantis. If it'd been up to me, she'd have died then. At least she got to do some good before…

But the Apollo- if we'd just waited- began a treacherous line of thought.

No.

Judging that he was far enough from the inhabited sectors of the city so as not to disturb anyone, Colonel Sheppard broke into first a jog, then a run, then an out and out sprint, legs pumping, chest heaving, mind focussed on simply running as the corridors melted away around him, blurring together. First one level, then the next; a staircase, a tower, halls, cavernous storerooms, basements. He scarcely knew where he was going, but it didn't matter, just as long as he kept moving, as long as he could feel the whisper of breeze caused by his movement drifting across his face, cooling his sweating body.

He was on the west pier when his legs began to shake. He knew that he could push on further, but he needed to be in top shape for whatever the days to come might hold. It wouldn't help if he injured himself.

Carson would give me hell. Would have given me hell…

So soon, too soon. But she's still out there, there's still a chance.

Relenting, Sheppard stopped, almost collapsing down onto the silver-bathed pier, decked in shadows and half-light. He dangled his feet over the edge, staring into the inky black water below.

How come every ocean smells the same, anyway?

Surrounded by the silence of gently lapping waves, John Sheppard listened to his pounding heart slow down, returning to its usual rhythm. He felt his muscles stop shaking, his body stop sweating. He shivered briefly in the chill air.

I should've turned off some systems, found some extra power. Then she wouldn't have had to lower the shield, and then… Or…

He was adrift again, floating in a sea of what if's, of if only's, regrets, guilt. As though he had moored there for the night, Sheppard stayed in that sea of thoughts as the sky above him darkened and the orbit of the planet turned it again towards the light, resulting in a gradual, steady sunrise. Atlantis' first morning light on this planet was muted. Reassuringly there, but not brazenly splendid. Sheppard awoke, freezing cold, to a cloudy white sky that looked soft, like whipped cream.

He was overcome by a burning desire to escape into the sky with his jumper, dipping through those clouds and just being free, free to fly as high as he wanted, wherever he wanted. Free to get away, further than his own legs could take him. Someone needed to fly a recon and scout out this new planet, anyway.

Maybe later.

It was a few moments before he remembered why he was on the pier. Groaning a little as he stretched out stiff muscles, the colonel gingerly eased himself to his feet.

He had things to do, a hundred different jobs involved with sorting out the city, and he was in charge for the time being. Had to be upbeat, positive, boost morale and all that. Never mind about his own morale.

And then there was Rodney, who'd be guilty and grieving, too. He'd only done what any good scientist should do, using his knowledge to reactivate the nanites, hack in, and then finding that code, but still. Teyla and Ronon would be grieving in their own ways as well, and Sheppard knew that it was selfish to become a recluse and isolate himself when his friends needed him. The general population also, for that matter. There were other injured in the infirmary, technicians who'd worked through the night, scientists too.

Attempting to plaster on a cheery smile as he began a slower jog back to his quarters than his run the night before, it struck Sheppard how much he was responsible for these people, now. How much Elizabeth had been responsible for.

And how much we'll miss her.

How much I'll miss her.

But first a shower, then breakfast. One things at a time, and he could cope, for now at least. After everything they'd been through to keep the city in one piece, he couldn't let it fall to bits now. Couldn't let it all go to waste.

Couldn't let Elizabeth's legacy slip through his fingers.