The staccato of bullets made John flinch as he dove to the side. Looking up into the sky in the hopes of seeing back up, John thought with panic, "They're all going to die if I don't do something." John peered over the rise and could see the enemy Taliban soldiers as they cut through the village, slaughtering everyone they came across. John eyed the hut he knew contained Katie and the rest of the medical contingent. Stealthily he maneuvered around the rise and approached the dwelling from the back. Using the butt of his weapon like a hammer, he pounded through the dried mud of the back wall and squeezed through the opening.

"No, no, no, no, no . . ." John whispered desperately as he took in the sight of destruction. Blood and body parts were strewn all over the walls and floor of the hut. "They're civilians, why kill civilians?" John asked in a strangled voice. Frantically, he reached for the first body he could to check for a pulse. Pulling the body gently towards him, he let out a startled yelp when the head remained on the floor. "Jesus, God . . ." John said desperately scrambling back. Looking around, he spied a veil partially covering a mass of bloody blonde hair. Moving as quickly has he could on his knees, he reached the woman – knowing what he would find but unable to stop himself.

The blood coming from the neck wound actually shot in the air like a geyser, hitting John in the face and chest. John pulled Katie to him, rocking. They hadn't been dating long, just a couple of weeks, but it had been the first promising relationship John had had since joining the military. Pulling back to look in her face, John was stunned when Katie's eyes focused on his.

"Katie?"

"Where were you Johnny . . . .? You said . . . . You said you'd take care of . . . ."

John's stomach rolled up, lodging itself in his throat making it difficult to breathe and he looked away, trying to control the burning in his eyes. "Katie, I . . ."

"You were supposed to protect us . . . you were. . ."

John backed away from the accusing eyes, mumbling "Katie, I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ."

John turned to flee but was brought up short by the figure of Dr. Rodney McKay, covered in blood. John instinctively reached out to steady the man but McKay's knees buckled and John could only keep him from hitting the floor too hard.

"McKay?" John asked confused. "What the hell?"

"I once met another version of you . . ." McKay wheezed. Blood began to seep from McKay's mouth, eyes, and ears. "He was a hero . . . he saved the world . . ." McKay gasped. As blood continued to wash over John's hands, he felt the intense heat of self-loathing wash through him. McKay only confirmed his feelings when he whispered; "He was nothing like you . . ." before falling over – dead.

John groped to find his footing, looking once more in horror and despair at the bodies of friends and loved ones that he could not save. Turning to leave, John fell as a hand slammed him to the ground. The face of the Wraith twisted into a snarl inside the traditional Taliban clothing as the it's hand slammed again into Sheppard's chest. Leaning into John's face, the wraith whispered, "I'll show you your destiny . . . . John Sheppard . . . ."

The pain in John's chest was incredible as the wraith began to suck his life away. John struggled but couldn't breathe. Breaking out into a blind panic, John thrashed, trying to dislodge the hand on his chest and catch his breath. The scream in his mind was stuck on a perpetual loop "I can't breathe! I can't Breathe! I Can't Breathe! I CAN"T . . . . ."

__________________

BREATHE . . ." John threw himself up swinging his arm and catching something solid. The pressure holding him down eased for a minute accompanied by the sound of crashing equipment. John immediately began clawing at this throat and mouth trying to restart his airflow.

"Damn it Sheppard! Stay still! Stay still! You're okay! . . .Get this thing out of him!"

John blinked once then twice as reality reasserted itself. Looking wildly around him he realized that it wasn't a wraith holding him down, it was a couple of orderlies. He flopped back to the mattress, "a hospital . . . I'm in a hospital . . ." he thought to himself. The particulars of the dream reasserted themselves once again and John wasn't sure what was real. Did the wraith kill Katie and McKay before he could get there? Was he still in Afghanistan?

Jennifer Keller's face swam into view as she firmly took him by the shoulders.

"Detective? Can you hear me?"

John's wild eyes settled on Jennifer for a moment before he nodded mutely.

"Detective, I'm going to remove the tube that's helping you breath but I'm going to need you to sit up and cough when I tell you. Do you understand?"

John nodded pushing himself up immediately. Anything to be rid of the pressure in his throat and chest.

"Okay," Jennifer said calmly and confidently. "Here we go . . . I need you to cough on three . . . One . . . Two . . . Three . . ."

John coughed with all his strength and was bothered by how weak it sounded. However, it was enough to do the job.

Setting the tubing by the side of the bed, Jennifer pulled out a pen light and peered into John's left eye – then his right.

"Do you know where you are?" Jennifer asked patiently.

"Hospital," John croaked and then grimaced at the pain in his throat.

"That's right," Jennifer smiled encouragingly. "And do you remember what happened?"

John flinched as the image of shattered and broken bodies flashed across his mind. "Not sure . . ." he croaked out again.

A familiar voice from his other side spoke up. "You saved the world, Detective."

John swiveled his eyes to the other side of the room and the image of Dr. Rodney McKay holding his hand to an already swelling eye – but otherwise standing whole and healthy in front of him.

John fought for control but was unable to keep his eyes from shutting as his breath hitched.