A/N: Just to give you all an idea of the scope of this story, it is 18 chapters total. Thanks for reading!!

CHAPTER 6

"McKay, hurry it up," Ronon griped. The wind whipped his hair around his head and the tree they were huddled under gave little protection against the downpour. They'd stepped through the gate into a massive thunderstorm, and had considered turning around and heading straight back to Atlantis, but thoughts of Sheppard in the infirmary convinced them to forge ahead.

"This is so weird," Rodney muttered. He tapped at the data pad in his hand and grunted. He'd been doing that almost since they'd arrived, and Ronon was losing his patience.

"Did you find anything or not?" He asked, raising his voice to be heard over the gusts of wind ripping through the trees.

"It's not here anymore," Rodney yelled back.

"What do you mean, Rodney?" Teyla squatted down to look at the data pad Rodney was holding.

Rodney tapped it with his finger. "The energy readings from last time. They're gone. There's nothing here anymore."

"Did you not say they fluctuated in and out last time?"

"There's no fluctuating this time. Everything's dead."

"What about the lake, where John fell?" Teyla pressed.

"I'm not getting anything, from anywhere—not the lake, not the ruins. Nothing."

Ronon screamed into the storm, letting loose the frustration of feeling helpless. The storm seemed to answer back with a crack of thunder that shook the ground. A bolt of lightening split the sky, striking the center of the lake. The shore on the far side briefly lit up at the sudden light before plunging back into darkness.

"There's nothing here," Rodney said again. He stood up, putting his data pad back into his bag. "Let's go home."

"Just give up?" Ronon asked. "Just like that?"

"We've been here for over four hours, and this storm has, if anything, gotten stronger. If there's something here to find—which I'm not picking up on my scanner anyway—we're not going to find it in this weather."

"We can return when the storm has passed," Teyla said, although whether she was trying to convince Ronon or herself was not clear.

"Sure, fine. We can return later. Whatever. Let's go."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

John was exhausted. The bone-deep, sleep-for-a-week type of exhaustion. He shuffled along the hallways of Atlantis, sticking to the side as scientists and military personnel rushed back and forth past him, almost oblivious to him. The military personnel at least tried to acknowledge him with a nod or a smile. Sheppard just smiled back, too weary to carry on much of a conversation.

His team had come back two days earlier empty-handed, and while he was glad for their efforts, he was frustrated that they hadn't found anything. They had returned to the planet again that morning—now that the storm had passed—and again found nothing. His team had argued about returning a third time, and talk of new equipement and expanding the search area had left all of them—John included—tired and as frustrated as ever.

John was starting to feel like he'd never get back to normal. The visions continued, mostly at night, which meant he rarely got more than a few hours of sleep at a time. He was sick of the infirmary as well, but Carson seemed to recognize his need for space and had negotiated a compromise with him. John could leave the infirmary on his own for meals, but he had to return for naps, check-ups, and to sleep at night. John had groaned at this, but it was better than nothing.

It was nearing lunchtime now, and he had planned to meet his team for lunch in the mess. It was still somewhat early, so the halls weren't as crowded as they would be in another hour or so, allowing John the leisure of walking at his own pace. He turned down a side corridor, noticing that it was devoid of people, and was a little surprised at the relief he felt. His fatigue made it hard for him to track the quick movements of many people, and the emptiness of the hallway in front of him was suddenly very inviting.

About halfway down the corridor, he staggered and slammed his shoulder into the wall. The sudden dizziness caught him by surprise and he reached a hand out to grab the wall and ground himself. The dizziness didn't let up after a few seconds like it usually did, though.

He saw a flash of white and he was walking down the alien corridor, then another flash of light and he was standing on a catwalk overlooking a thriving metropolis. He felt himself slide to his knees. Another flash of light and a Wraith was slamming its hand into his chest, then another flash and he was standing in the middle of a burning farm field, the screams of villagers having their life sucked out of them echoing in his head.

John groaned, holding his head in his hands. He could hear himself panting and knew he was kneeling on the floor of an empty hallway in Atlantis, but the images from his nightmares continued to flash. Over and over again, like someone was flipping channels on a TV. Village, Wraith, fire, corridor, Wraith, corridor, farm field, Wraith, corridor, city, corridor. His head felt like it was imploding. The images continued, faster and more vivid than ever before, drowning out his own reality in Atlantis so that he didn't feel himself collapse on the floor.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You're calculations are all wrong. Let me see that again," Rodney griped, ripping Radek Zelenka's PDA from his hands. Zelenka rolled his eyes, used to his friend's erratic behavior. He waited patiently while Rodney muttered under his breath and looked over the calculations he'd worked on all morning. The two walked through the hallways of Atlantis toward the mess hall.

Rodney glanced up as Radek pulled on his arm and realized he'd narrowly missed walking into the wall. He grunted and Radek used the distraction to grab his PDA back. The calculations were sound—McKay had seen that immediately—but their implication didn't make sense.

"We're missing something," he fumed, flailing his arms. Radek ducked the errant hand and pulled on Rodney's arm again when the irate physicist began making a wrong turn. It wasn't quite lunchtime, but more and more people were making their way toward the mess. As they neared it, Rodney saw the line of people already forming and groaned. He waved his hand down a far hallway, ignoring the glare of a Marine standing nearby who narrowly missed getting clocked in the nose, and began walking toward it, hoping to at least get in the mess hall before cutting in line. Radek jogged to catch up with him.

"If we are missing something, then it is you that missed it. All calculations are based on the data you collected from that moon."

"Oh, thanks. Blame it all on me, Radek."

"You are one who wanted to determine the trajectory of—"

"Whoa, stop," Rodney grabbed on to the wall as Zelenka ran into his back not expecting Rodney's abrupt halt in the middle of the hall.

"What is it, Rodney?" He asked.

Instead of answering, Rodney backed up and peered down a narrow hallway jutting off the main hallway. He had never noticed this hallway even existed, but something about it had caught his eye. He took a step, searching for whatever had caught his wandering attention.

"What is that?" Radek asked, pointing at the far end. Rodney opened his mouth to retort, but then stopped, his eyes going wide. Radek must have realized what he was pointing at as well when he suddenly gasped.

Rodney took off running down the hall, Radek close on his heels. As he got closer, his heart began thudding in trepidation. The pale man lying on the floor, his dark, spiky hair damp with perspiration, was instantly recognizable. Rodney quickened his pace and dropped to his knees next to Sheppard.

"Sheppard?" He called, shaking the man's shoulder. He could hear Zelenka calling for a medical team in the background, but all his focus was on his friend. "Colonel? Wake up!" He snapped his hands in front of Sheppard's face, then tapped his cheek, all to no avail. Sheppard did not even flinch.

"Come on, Sheppard. Don't do this to me," he muttered. He reached for a pulse, noting that John's skin was pale and clammy. He seemed to be breathing hard, like he'd just sprinted across the pier. Rodney found his pulse quickly, and while it seemed to be exceedingly fast, at least it was there. He looked up at the sound of the medical team coming around the corner and running toward them, Beckett in the lead.

"Hang on, Sheppard. Beckett's coming. Just hang on," Rodney said. He watched John's eyes moving quickly under his eyelids. He put his hand on the unconscious man's chest and felt heat radiating through the Colonel's black t-shirt.

"What happened?" Beckett asked, dropping to Sheppard's side and beginning to evaluate his patient. Rodney glanced up at Radek, who stared at the scene in shock, before answering the Scottish doctor.

"I don't know. We just found him like this."

Carson mumbled something in acknowledgment but continued to focus on John. Rodney watched intently as he grabbed the oxygen mask one of the nurse's held out to him, but before he could slip it on, Rodney felt John's body jerk underneath the hand that still rested on his friend's chest. He looked down at his hand in shock, noticing that as he did so, John's body jerked again.

"Carson?" He asked, unable to keep the panic from his voice.

"Kim, get something to put under his head," Carson yelled, ignoring Rodney. Rodney watch as Carson grabbed the side John's face, his hands gentle considering the tense situation.

"John, come on, lad," he murmured.

John's body began to jerk in earnest, and Rodney recognized he was going into a seizure. He grabbed John's nearest arm as it slammed into the floor.

"He's seizing," Carson called out, unable to keep the urgency of the situation out of his own voice. "Get that gurney over here." The doctor continued to hold onto John's head, trying to keep the man from injuring himself. Rodney could feel the muscles in John's arm and chest spasm underneath his hands. He looked up in alarm at the sound of Sheppard's stuttered breathing. One of the nurse's held the oxygen mask over his face.

All at once, John went completely limp under his hands. Rodney glanced up at Carson, terrified, but the doctor was already signaling to the nurses to bring the gurney closer. The mask was now fixed firmly on John's face, and Rodney breathed a small sigh of relief at the faint condensation inside the mask indicating Sheppard's rapid breathing. John's face was ashen now and his hair and skin slick with sweat. They moved him quickly onto the gurney and were soon running down the hallway. Rodney didn't realize he was still holding onto Sheppard's arm until they reached the infirmary and he was forced to wait outside.