Summary: While on Earth in "Outcast" John stops by to say hello to an old friend.

Spoilers: Outcast mainly; maybe a few other tiny spoilers if you squint.

Rating: Might go over the heads of younger readers; no adult themes however.

Category: Angst, friendship. Not slash.

Notes: Was I the only one who noticed that John's Dad's house had a really nice stable on the property? This got me thinking, and here's the result. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

Thanks: Thanks to my beta, my BFF Lash. Also, thanks to the creative people who invented the shows and developed the characters. Friday nighs would not be as enjoyable without them!

John walked through the empty house. His footfalls echoed through the halls, rebounding off the priceless pieces of art. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had lived there. He opened a large oak door, wondering if his things would still be there.

It was almost exactly as he had left it the day he left for the academy in Colorado Springs all those years ago.

'I guess with the twelve other bedrooms he didn't need to use mine' John thought to himself as he walked over to the closet. He quickly found what he was looking for. He walked over to the king size bed against the opposite wall and sat down, taking off his uncomfortable dress shoes.

Putting on the stiff riding boots was hard work. They hadn't been worn in twenty years. He stood up, rubbing his hands off on tight jeans before pulling the polo shirt straight. The boots were a bit tight, but fit well enough.

He carried his shoes out with him; he didn't want to go back to that room. His feet directed him as he walked out the back door to the stables. He wondered if she would even still be there. It was twenty years later, and she was no longer in her prime. She would no longer be the calm, talented Hanoverian that could jump as if she had wings he had once known.

John had asked his father what would happen to her before he left; she was the only thing there that he had cared about. He had said he would sell her to a show barn. John was torn between staying behind for her and leaving to get away from him.

John froze in the doorway to the interior stalls. What if she wasn't here? Would it be better to know she was gone, or have some hope remaining? He stood pondering this for a few minutes, watching the grooms walk to and fro. He could just ask one of them, but that didn't seem like the right thing to do somehow.

He slowly put one foot in front of the other, looking into stalls as he passed. He would take a wraith head-on, but this had him nearly running away. His heart began to drop as none of the stalls revealed the white mare with tiny grey flecks throughout her glossy coat.

In a last ditch effort he walked out back, deciding to look in the pastures. He didn't notice the barn manager sticking his head out of his office, smiling.

He looked out to the large pasture, filled with grass. He scanned the horses near the fence. They were all the wrong color. Then he saw a silhouette against the setting sun; his heart jumped.

He whistled; it came out more as a squeak. He tried again, this time succeeding. The horse lifted its head towards him. They started at each other, neither able to make out the other's face, but knowing they were there.

Simultaneously, they both ran. John vaulted the fence with ease, sprinting towards his best childhood friend. Maude was nickering wildly as she cantered up to him, sliding to a halt right in front of him.

John was nearly at a loss for words. "Hey girl," he managed to stammer, "how have you been?" John was scared to reach out and touch, scared that she would not really be there, scared that this was all a dream. She nudged his arm with her nose, letting him know she wanted to be pet. He shakily reached out and ran his fingers over the brass plate on her dark leather halter. He moved his hand up to her forelock and ran his hand down to her soft, velvet nose. Her coat felt so familiar, yet foreign. She was from another time in his life.

"The closest thing I've seen to a horse in the past four years ate meat. Not what you would call tame either." He smiled; Maude leaned into him as he scratched her favorite spot: right behind her cheek. She exhaled happily, all her muscles relaxing.

After a few minutes he turned back to the barn, Maude following at his heels, prancing along waving her head side to side and nickering happily as if to say "I found him, I found my boy!"

As John neared the fence he saw that some tack had be laid across the top rail. He turned to see the old manager walking away. He made a mental note to thank the man later; he had always been kind to him, even if he had been a brat when he was younger.

He looked into Maude's eyes; they quickly under stood each other.

Want to go for a ride?

With you? Always.

Are you sure? You're not a filly anymore.

How dare you call a woman "old"!

I know, I'm sorry. We don't need this stuff though.

He left the saddle and bridle where they were. He found a lead rope near the gate and clipped it to her halter. He stood with his right shoulder to her left, wrapping his hands in her mane.

"GO!" He yelled, and she took off. He used the momentum to swing up.

It was wonderful. Running through the field with his best friend, he felt her warmth, her strength and her courage beneath him. She was tossing her head in sheer joy as she careened around as if she was still a foal racing about in play. The other horses in the field lifted their heads and began to give chase.

He leaned low over her neck, letting all his fears, worries and regrets sail out behind him. At the moment there was only him and her.

She came to a gentle stop as the neared the gate. John got the message. He unlatched the gate from her back; she stepped through and he pulled it shut behind them. The other horses watched them leave for going back to grazing.

They lazily walked around the property, visiting all their old favorite spots. John grabbed two apples as they walked under the big, old tree. She turned her head back, snagging the sweet fruit he offered. John took a bite. For a second he couldn't remember all the bad things that happened in his life. He was a teen again, out for a hack with his prize winning mare. The wraith were miles, and seemingly lifetimes, away.

They headed back to the barn only when it became so dark that they could see every star in the sky. John slid of her back in front of the barn. His legs felt like jell-o and he was going to be sore for weeks, but it was worth it.

He asked a groom which stall was Maude's. He led her in, unclipping her halter and hanging it on the hook outside her stall door. He told her to stay, leaving the door open, and walked over to the tack room. He grabbed a pail of brushes before heading to the feed shed. Smiling, he grabbed a scoop of sweet feed and a bag of carrots.

Setting the things down in her stall, he began the meticulous task of cleaning her. He talked to her the whole time, telling her everything he could. He knew it didn't matter if the horse had security clearance, but he recalled there being a monitoring system in the barn, and didn't want to be overheard.

Sometime around midnight her coat was glossy and shone almost pure white. No knots in her newly trimmed mane, her tail neatly braided with a light purple ribbon tied around it. John had never like the color, sticking with dark blues and greens, but it looked wonderful on her.

He sank down the wall of the stall; he was so tired. He had been on Earth for a week now; he didn't think he managed even eight hours combined sleep. He drifted off, Maude standing watch.

He woke up to the hustle and bustle of a barn in the early morning. Maude looked down at him; she had been eating her breakfast when he woke. He glanced at his watch. He had managed about five hours of sleep, a record for the week. Shrugging the horse blanket that had been placed over him, he stiffly stood up and dusted off his jeans and picked a few stray piece of hay from his hair.

"Good morning." He said softly to Maude, giving her a loving pat. "I hope you slept well." The look in her eyes told him all he needed to know. "I'm just going to tidy up, I'll be back soon." He let himself out of the stall, closing the door behind him. Maude watched him retreat to down the aisle.

John cleaned himself up the best he could in the bathroom. He needed to shave, but didn't have anything with him, it was all back at the hotel with Ronon. That reminded him, he should give him a call.

A grunt answered on the other end.

"Good morning to you too." John smiled.

"Where are you?"

John ignored the question. "I'll be back there in an hour or so. Our flight leaves at fourteen hundred so we should get to the airport by noon." Ronon grunted back. "See you later." He hung up.

John walked to the Leroy's office and gently rapped on the doorframe. "I was hoping you wouldn't leave without saying hello." The barn manger grinned. "Sorry about your dad. How have you been?"

"I've been doing okay." There was a long awkward pause. "Look, I'm, I'm not good with words."

"You never have been, Jonny." Leroy replied using the name he had always called him. Sheppard had told him numerous times to call him John, but it never worked.

"Anyways," he began, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as he leaned against the doorframe, "I just wanted to say 'thanks,' for everything. You've been great to me always. I was such an ass when I was younger, you didn't have to put up with it."

"You were always willing to help out with chores."

"Also, I wanted to thank you for keeping Maude."

"We tried to get rid of her; let her talents be put to good use." John stood quietly, listening. "She went for five different homes. She hated it. She would act up, stop eating; you name it, she did it. She wanted to be here, so your dad kept her as a brood mare. That chestnut over there is her's." He said, pointing to a stall with a sleek horse being tacked up for a morning ride.

"She's stubborn-"he shrugged 'Like me' he left unsaid.

"That she is."

They chatted for a few more minutes before John went back to her stall. He brushed her again before going on one more quick ride before calling a cab and going to the hotel.

A half-hour later he had his forehead leaned against Maude's from over the stall door. "Be good." He was stumbling over words. "Your babies are great looking, you should be proud." Her eyes told him to be proud too. They stood there in silence for ten minutes, but it felt like it went on forever.

"Well, I've got to go. I'll see you later." He gave her a kiss on her velvety, grey nose. He turned and walked down the aisle. She called to him; he looked back one last time. Their eyes met.

'I love you.'

John paid the cabby and walked up the stairs to the room her and Ronon were sharing. He swiped the card into the slot and pushed the heavy door open. "Hey." He said quietly.

"Hey." Ronon said looking up from the TV. "Why are you covered in white fur?"

"I paid a visit to a childhood acquaintance." He said before walking into the bathroom. He sat on the toilet lid and gave a sigh. 'She was more then that, she was my best friend.'

He turned the shower on and steeped under the hot stream.

Three months later

The Daedalus "mail man" passed out everyone's mail from Earth. John was waiting in line with many other people. After he was handed a stack of magazines he turned to leave, but was stopped. "There's a package for you here too, sir." John raised an eyebrow. All supplies were kept separate from the personal mail.

He thanked the man and walked back to his room. He thought the door open and plopped down on the bed, laying the magazines aside.

Neatly scrolled across the top of the box was "John Sheppard, USAF officer." He sliced it open with his ever present knife.

A dark leather halter with a brass name plate lay there. He lifted it out and ran his fingers of the name, Maude. There was a lock of her mane as well, tied with a light purple ribbon. He opened the envelope that they had been in the box as well.

Jonny,

I guess this found you alright. I had no idea where you were stationed, or your current rank. Your brother didn't either. So I gave the package to the Air Force in hopes they could get it to you.

Maude peacefully passed away in the field last night. It doesn't seem right for me to keep these things, she was our horse, and you were her human. The bond you had was special, never underestimate that.

A single tear slid down John's cheek.

We buried her on the top of the hill, where she slept for the final time. She will always be remembered.

- Leroy

P.S. Here are some photos; I took some of these pictures the last night you were together.

John took some photographs from the envelope.

The first was a picture of him slumped against the wall in Maude's stall, a plaid horse blanket draped over him, Maude resting her chin lightly on the top of his head, not wanting to break contact. The next was a picture of him and Maude walking down the aisle. There were several pictures from his youth, pictures of him and Maude at various horse shows, all with a first place ribbon clipped to her bridle.

The last was a picture of him and Maude sailing across the field, the sun setting behind them. They looked to be as one, and he looked so happy. But that would never happen again.

Walking over to his bulletin bored, he pinned the picture up. It looked so perfect. Maude looked so young and youthful, he look like a normal person. None of the pains, fears, hardships or loneliness they had experience while apart showed.

He took the rest of the things and walked to the other side of the room and opened one of his trunks. He carefully placed the halter and the rest of the photos at the bottom. He placed the lock of hair on top, running his hands through her silky mane one last time.

He closed the lid and placed his spare shirts back on top of it. He whispered, "One more skeleton in the closet."

Author's note: For those who have never shared a bond with a horse, it's hard to explain. Magical may be the best term. My life was once saved by a wonderful Quarter Horse mare named Maude; I was riding and got heat exhaustion. I was not thinking clearly, but she knew something was wrong. She stopped listening to me and walked me over to the instructor, turning her head towards me. I was helped off, sat down and drenched with water. She never left my side, gently resting her chin on my shoulder. Had I collapsed from her, I could have easily broken my neck.

I have not seen her in two years. When I last saw her she was retired (except for trail rides, which she loved,) for the cancer she had progressed and she just didn't want to work anymore. I believe she has since been put to sleep. She was such an amazing horse and I will never forget her; she always got the most treats from everyone.

The horse is this story is baser off of her.

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