Chapter: 7

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John threw aside all the restrictions over him, shrugging away the broken mess of the clothing railing, as he struggled up to his feet, his eyes locked onto the sight across the dark space of the shop. Some part of him was processing what he was hearing over his ear piece; the sounds and some screams as the Wraith made its way away from the mall. But, another part of him was fast disintegrating into blind panic.

She was laid out amidst a scattered pile of pale clothing, which was all rapidly soaking up her blood. He dropped down onto his knees beside her, reaching for her as he screamed into his radio for assistance, but he already knew it wouldn't come in time.

She looked up at him, gasping for breath, blood dribbling from her lips. He reached for her, lifting her head and shoulders to help her breathe. He knew it would hurt her and indeed she coughed louder, but this time she was able to catch a clear breath and her eyes focused on him through her pain filled haze.

"Teyla, hang on; help's on its way," he tried to reassure her, but he had already turned to the shiny metal pole protruding from her middle, its bright surface splattered with her blood. The throw had been so fast and so accurate that the pole had penetrated straight through the zipper of her vest and had buried the pole deeply through her. Dark black blood was pooling up from the wound in her middle, telling him that there really was no time. That didn't stop him thrusting his hand down around the pole, trying vainly to stem the flood of her blood out of her body.

"John…" she gasped and he looked to her eyes again, trying to force back the panic and tears that he wanted to shed. Her eyes were wide and panicked and that helped him to focus. She was coughing again and he lifted her further up, ramming his knee under her shoulders and his arm around her, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel the other end of the pole through her back brush against his thigh.

"John…" she gasped once her mouth was clear again. "Wraith…"

"He's gone, we'll get him…" John tried to reassure her as he pressed his hand tighter to her middle around the pole, her blood warm over his hand. Tears were threatening to fill his eyes and the fear was riding up higher. He looked away to the staircase down to the lower level; where was backup? Of course he knew that only seconds had passed since he sent out the call, and that they were all fighting the Wraith or injured themselves. He felt completely useless; her life was leaving her so fast he could feel her growing heavier against him.

"Wraith…" she said again and she grasped the front of his jacket, drawing his full attention back to her eyes. He couldn't hold back the tears now, couldn't hide them from himself or her, but all he saw in her face was panic. "Plan…" she panted.

"Don't worry about that now," John told her, but she shook her head, the movement violent in the pain it caused her. She pulled on the front of his jacket, pulling him down to her with a strength that was shocking considering the circumstances.

"It…its…pl…an," she told him through her gasps. "I…saw…" She ran out of energy then, but John had understood.

"The Wraith's plan, you saw it," he confirmed for her, but he knew she wouldn't be able to tell him; it was too late for her to be able to talk enough. "It's alright we'll get him," John tried to reassure her. "You need to rest," he told her, but his voice broke as he did and more tears were in his eyes. "Just relax, Teyla, help's on its way. Carson'll patch you up; good as new," he lied to her.

She tightened her hold on his jacket again, her eyes staring so directly into his that it was brutal in its intensity. "Torren…" she whispered as tears began to fill her eyes, rolling down her face.

"You'll see him soon," John told her as he pressed down harder on her front, but her body was growing heavier and her hold on his jacket dropped away. Her breathing was more laboured and her face was so pale it was terrifying. His eyes clouded up and he had to lift his hand from her wound to wipe his eyes clear. He felt the warmth of her blood smeared over his face as he did, but he didn't care. He looked back over his shoulder towards the stairs. She needed help, she couldn't die like this. She couldn't die now.

"Please…John," she managed to whisper through her tears.

He looked back down into her dark eyes and could no longer deny the plain cruelty of what was happening; she was really going to die in his arms. He had been beside many others in the past as they had died, bearing witness to their passing, but he had never really had to hold someone he loved this much as they went. It was so stomach wrenchingly painful that he wanted to vomit, but he would not fail her now. He had failed to watch her back already tonight and he wouldn't fail her again. He knew what she needed and what needed to be promised, though he hated to do it as if to deny the words would mean that she wouldn't die here. He pulled out his ear piece, the cries and shouts over it cut away, and it was just them in the big empty dark shop.

"You know we'll look after Torren," he promised her. "You know I will," his voice broke again and he let the new tears run down his cheeks.

She nodded as she sagged a little further in his arms. He pulled her tighter to him, clutching her against him as much as he could. "You've got to hold on, Teyla. Please," he whispered to her. He leant down over her and pressed his forehead to hers. "Please," he begged her. Her forehead was cool, as were her fingers that briefly touched his cheek. "Please."

She was growing weaker and colder in his arms, her breaths taking longer and her whole body struggled with each one. He wanted to be able to take the pain away for her, to give her that little, but he couldn't.

A shadow in the dark room suddenly darkened the space around them and John looked up to see Uosa standing over them, her face set in a deep frown. Hope, shockingly bright and brittle, flared through John as he stared up at the woman.

"Please help her," he begged.

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Uosa crouched down beside the woman, Teyla, as her life was fading so fast Uosa could feel it as a cooling rush. Sheppard's desperation and pain was a further burst of cold that seemed to Uosa to fill all the air around them that she almost expected to see frost coating everything in the wide dark space.

The faint light in the room glinted off the shining coating of the metal rod through Teyla and Uosa couldn't hide the regret from her expression.

"Please," Sheppard begged again, for he had seen Uosa's doubt and sorrow. Teyla was a strong and powerful woman; for her to end now was tragic. Uosa looked up at the strong man reduced to a pale desperate state opposite her.

"I can help with her pain," Uosa told him as she reached down and laid her hand on Teyla's closest arm and poured enough energy into her that the pain should reduce, but her departure not be hastened. Teyla's breathing softened and her body relaxed a little more in the man's arms, but her colour only paled further. Uosa looked down to the woman's eyes and saw the acceptance as well as the regret. Teyla's mind was weak, but it was reaching towards her.

"Wraith…" Teyla managed to utter with effort.

"She knows the Wraith's plan," Sheppard said with growing aggression. "Is that enough motivation for you?" He spat at her.

Uosa focused down on Teyla, reaching forward with her mind into the weakening thickness of the human female's thoughts. "Show me, Teyla."

But, Teyla's mind was clouded with pain and was preoccupied with thoughts of her young and those she most cared for in her life. Regrets, memories and desires were a muddle inside her mind, as was normal for a dying mind as it struggled to accept and process that its end was at hand. Uosa would not be able to see the Wraith's plan through all that, unless maybe Teyla could focus on it, but that would be unlikely in her state.

"Save her, then she can tell you," Sheppard tried to bargain.

Uosa looked over at Sheppard. He would not understand in his current state; emotional and grief stricken as he was.

"To all things there is an end," she told him as gently as she could.

His pain grew even more intense in the space around him, as his eyes tightened and more tears ran from his eyes. He had hugged Teyla closer to him and there was both blame and painful understanding in his eyes. He understood death; for he was a warrior.

Uosa had walked this planet for more years than any other of her mother's or her father's people and she had been witness to the full rein of the human experience. She had seen wars so vast that the ground shook with the violence and was saturated with the blood. She had seen fields of dead and dying, seen buildings packed with them; each of them striving to survive.

She had leant healing skills from her father, though it was her own experience of healing herself that had honed that skill. She could restart someone's heart, heal damage and fight off most infections, but there was a great difference between that and sealing a hole punctured entirely through a person's middle. She had seen healings like that before, but it had been undertaken by more than one of her father's people and only those most skilled had been successful.

And there was more that she had learnt on healing; that everything had its time. Though she had resisted the tight constraints that her father's people, her people, had put on intervention, she had grown to understand their perspective. She had been told by a human once that such thoughts were an excuse to remain unfeeling, but she saw the universe in a way that humans could not; she felt the threads of people's lives and that included their beginnings and endings. Who was she to interfere in the end of one's thread? One's destiny?

Teyla's thread was reaching its end.

"Please," Sheppard asked her again, but this time there was more strength and less emotional panic in his tone. There was more here than losing a colleague; this man was significantly invested in Teyla. As Uosa shifted her gaze to what was unseen by most, she could see, as well as feel, the strength he was giving Teyla. Teyla's hands were constricted around his jacket and there was something in the air that spoke of more than a simple tragic moment of human life. Uosa studied Sheppard, seeing the deeper strength of him that was born of their kinship. She saw great potential in him to harness what was necessary for ascension, not that she was one for that kind of thing. She wondered if he knew his potential, knew of the strength of who he was. He was from a strong line and one she suspected had perhaps been carefully sculpted by those carefully stepping around restrictions placed upon them. Was it a coincidence that Uosa had run into these humans; a male with such genetic strength and a woman who was similar to Uosa in her gifts? The feeling of convergence Uosa had felt before was once again a thick sensation around her.

She looked down at Teyla and felt for the thread of the woman's life that was delicate and fragile nearing its end. Yet, as Uosa gazed into her, there was more; a brightness of images that spoke of future travels to stars unknown to Uosa, but of a purpose so like her own. Uosa gasped with realisation.

"I will need your help," she instructed Sheppard as she knelt down closer to Teyla. "Place her down." Sheppard for his part did not question her once as he gently laid Teyla down, whose breathing was slow and even more laboured now. He was tucking some of the clothing under her shoulders to help keep her lungs clear, but he kept one hand under her neck, holding her head up for her.

Uosa reached forward and grasped the metal rod that protruded from Teyla and then looked up at Sheppard. "I will have to gradually pull out the rod, hopefully healing her up as it goes. This may not work," she warned Sheppard and then down to Teyla. "It will hurt, but I will try to make it as less as possible." Teyla nodded vaguely, though her face was ashen and the blood pool around them was significant.

"Do it!" Sheppard commanded her.

Uosa was never one to be ordered around, but she took it now and focused. She moved into the deep place inside her where she felt her connection to life, to her own life force, wisdom and power. Everything became gentler and brighter around her and she drifted herself into that place. She reached out into the ether of what was available and drew it all into her and through into Teyla. On the very edges of that pouring light she was abruptly aware of her father's people watching. They never watched her and their attention now almost threw her off her focus, but she re-focused herself and pulled up on the rod.

Teyla's cry was loud and sharp, but Uosa focused on the area of torn flesh of the woman's back that was now freed from the metal and she directed all her attention there to help it mend. Teyla's body responded, healing up the wound in her back and finally halting most of the blood lost. Uosa pulled up a little more on the rod and willed more flesh to mend. It was draining in her focus and the complexity of what Teyla's body needed to repair itself, and Teyla was so weakened already.

Uosa realised she was panting with effort as she pulled up on the rod a little more. There was so much to be repaired; bone, organs, blood vessels to seal and nerves to re-grow. She knew there was so much, but only Teyla's body knew its structure and Uosa poured into it what it needed. Its genetic structure was aglow as it repaired itself, but was it too late and could Uosa do enough in time? Uosa pulled up some more on the rod, aware that sweat was dripping from her face and she realised couldn't do this all herself.

She opened her eyes and looked at Sheppard watching her with wide terrified and hopeful eyes. "You must help me," Uosa managed to gasp at him.

"How?" He asked leaning closer, his hope and sudden feeling of purpose clear through Uosa's open senses.

"I need you to help me, help her focus, take her pain away," Uosa told him.

She felt his energy drop. "How do I do that?" He asked, almost angry.

"You know, you have that ability; all do. Help her," She told him.

"I don't know how," he protested gesturing over Teyla's body to the rod.

Uosa grew abruptly angry with him then. "You want to save her then you need to help me. Do it!" She commanded as he had done and she shut her eyes.

She could feel his doubts and frustration, but as she pulled up on the rod a little more and Teyla cried out, his attention returned to Teyla. He began talking to Teyla; telling her to hold on, to be strong. But, the healing was taking too long and Teyla's body was so weak. The end of the thread was wavering in the air and Uosa heard Teyla gasp a rattling breath.

"No!" Sheppard all but shouted.

Uosa opened her eyes and pulled the rod completely out of Teyla's body and threw it away. She clamped her hand over Teyla's middle. "Help me!" She cried out; whether it was to Sheppard, the others or to whatever force might help her, she wasn't sure. She could feel Teyla's spirit now loose from its physical hold, hovering in the ether.

"Focus!" Uosa commanded Sheppard and she felt him finally seem to find what was needed.

Uosa poured all she could into the wound and felt even more than she had thought possible fill her, flooding through to Teyla; she had been right. Beside her Sheppard's energies were a glowing vibrancy that told her that he had found what he had inside, whether he knew it or not. Teyla's spirit reconnected and over Sheppard's chanting words, of which she heard none, Uosa felt Teyla return to life.

The woman gasped her new breath, just as Uosa felt the wound seal under her palm. Under her hand Uosa felt Teyla's body once again restarting all its functions and blood being rapidly formed to replace what had been lost, but Uosa also felt something new. A distant chime of vibration inside Teyla that echoed the same that existed inside Uosa, and she knew that she had been right about this woman and what it would mean for the future.

The healing abruptly complete Uosa sat back, disconnecting herself from Teyla and pulling in energy to heal her own exhausted body. She opened her eyes and looked down at Teyla who, though still pale, was alive and well. Sheppard was leaning over her, brushing hair from her pale face and she was smiling faintly. Teyla turned her head and Uosa met her gaze before the woman abruptly passed out into a deep sleep. Sheppard looked up worried.

"She will need to rest," Uosa reassured him, "but she will be fine now."

"Thank you," he told her and his blatant gratitude was as raw as his earlier desperation and pain had been. "Thank you," he repeated as he looked back down at the sleeping Teyla. Uosa nodded though he wasn't looking at her.

Voices and footsteps could be heard on the floor below now, moving closer and as they began to ascend the stairs Uosa watched Sheppard sit up straighter, his emotions closing and tightening. She watched him lock all those turbulent emotions inside as much as he could, as he reached down and slid his arms under Teyla. As a few people rushed up the stairs and into the room, the lights set on their weapons swept over the dark room, dancing and then focusing on Sheppard as he stood up with Teyla in his arms.

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The young man stared up at Carson as he panted through his pain and fear. Carson tightened the bandage around the man's arm, still shocked after these years at what a Wraith could do. The young man's flesh was shrunken and wrinkled, his face hollowed and grey with an age he hadn't lived. Carson spoke calmly to him, but it was difficult. The man knew what had happened to him and not only had to deal with the trauma of what he had experienced, but with the fact that he would probably die in a few years from apparent extreme old age. His life had been stolen from him and Carson hated it so much that he could feel bile rising up in his throat. The bandage secure, Carson gave one more reassurance and nodded to the medics to take him away to be properly patched up.

Carson moved on to the next man, laid out on the tarmac of the car park for triaging. This one had been saved the longer withering death of the Wraith's feeding, but it had not saved his life. Carson moved on to the next. The rapid beats of the helicopter was oddly reassuring for him, where it was hovering around in the distance.

He and Rodney had been stationed at the east exit, listening in tense nervous anxiety to the fight going on inside the mall. Then the smashing sound had echoed around the car park to be swiftly followed by the shouts, screams and orders of the new fight in progress. He and Rodney had followed along behind the team that had been running towards the fight, the car racing ahead of them. By the time Carson had gotten there it had been over. The bright beam of the helicopter had passed over the messy scene of bodies and broken glass. The Wraith had been running away pursued by Ronon and a few others into the distance, the helicopter's beam sweeping across the tarmac to follow them. Carson had barely heard the reports as they came in from that point for he was too busy doing his job.

Soldiers had been scattered around amongst the glass fragments, half of them in serious condition, but it had been the savage cry over the radio of Colonel Sheppard asking for assistance upstairs that had haunted Carson as he set about helping those he could. He kept his own fear and panic in the back of his mind as he worked; they would not help his patients. Yet, he couldn't help notice that Colonel Sheppard had not responded on the radio again after his first desperate call for assistance. Carson knew the tone the Colonel had used; he had heard it too many times over the last day. He could hardly believe this had only been going on for one day and so much damage had been wrought by just one Wraith!

The Captain lying on the ground under Carson's care would make it, but she would need some surgery for the glass cut wound across her arm. Carson tightened the field bandage around her arm, elevating the limb and he instructed the medic beside him what to do. Three ambulances were tearing into the car park across the wide open space and Carson stood up to watch the turning bright lights. Several dark cars were following them; back up. Too late.

Carson met the ambulances as they stopped and their technicians climbed out. These were military medics he realised and he relaxed a little as he began briefing them on the situation. As he finished he saw movement at the doorway to the mall and watched the internal metal gate lift up from the north exit doors revealing the mall inside. He could see broken glass inside and then Rodney stepped out. At some point Rodney had run back to the east exit to get inside the mall to help; an action rather unusual for him, but then he had also heard Sheppard's call. Carson now saw something in Rodney's expression that he rarely saw; confusion mixed with amazement. Rodney exited the lobby and Colonel Sheppard came into view behind him. Carson rushed forward towards them.

The Colonel's face was pale and streaked with blood, as were his hands and arms in which he carried an unconscious Teyla against him. Fear was a cold pain in Carson's chest as he moved forward, his eyes already scanning Teyla's form for life signs. Her face was pale, and equally as smeared with blood as the Colonel's, but Carson could tell that she had life in her. He looked up to Sheppard's face and saw a grim controlled expression.

"Teyla!" Carson found himself calling to her as he reached them, but Sheppard didn't stop, he just kept on walking forward towards the vehicles.

"She'll be alright," he told Carson with a grim controlled voice to match his expression.

Carson looked down at her to see a bare patch of her blood stained skin clear through the front of her vest. Blood had clearly saturated into her clothes as it had Sheppard's uniform, but Carson could see no sign of a wound. He put a possible theory together and stepped back away from the Colonel's determined path, and turned to meet Rodney's eyes and then to Uosa's behind him. She looked paler than normal, but she was walking tall and uninjured.

"Did you..?" Carson began to ask as he indicated towards Teyla.

Uosa paused by his side and inclined her head. "She will need a lot of rest, but she will recover."

Carson nodded. "You look like you could do with some rest as well," he noted as he studied her with a doctor's eye.

"I need a short time to rest and perhaps some food," she replied as he gently touched her closest arm. He was a little surprised when she responded to his gentle guidance and followed the Colonel towards the dark cars parked behind the flashing lights of the ambulances.

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Tree branches whipped against Ronon's face, one in particular hit him right on his swollen and painful nose, but he ignored it all. He jumped over a wide patch of nettles and kept on; the Wraith's back still vaguely in sight in the distant shadows of the trees.

The 'Chopper' was circling above, its bright beam of light breaking through the canopy overhead as much as it could. Ronon knew it was tracking the Wraith, but the Wraith was fast and using every means at its disposable to lose them all.

Ronon broke through a thick group of trees and saw the darker shape flying out at his face. He ducked just in time and punched out at the Wraith, but the creature's armour was a sharp harsh pain against Ronon's fist. The Wraith wrapped its arms around Ronon's shoulders, seeking to throw him, but Ronon grabbed hold in return, tearing at the Wraith as best as he could from his position. A knee struck Ronon's middle and he couldn't help himself from doubling up in response, so he shoved at the creature, pushing for some space and the Wraith stumbled back. Ronon stepped back again and lifted his weapon up towards the Wraith's head, but it ducked down behind fallen trees. Ronon jumped up onto the closest fallen tree and fired several rounds at the Wraith, only for the bullets to pound into something the Wraith had pulled up from the ground.

The tree stump, its roots scattering mud and debris, flew through the air towards Ronon. He tried to move in time, but the Wraith was too quick and the stump had been thrown with too much force. The stump hit him full force and knocked him from the tree. The weight of the stump pushed him even further back to the ground, but fortunately it only partly pinned him down. Grunting in anger, and with more than a little pain, Ronon struggled to get himself out from under the stump, but one leg felt wrong. He ignored the new pain and sat up enough as he could to look over the stump and sight down his weapon, only to see that the Wraith was not rushing at him, but had disappeared. Behind Ronon soldiers were bursting through the undergrowth, gasping and panting with the exhaustion of having to keep up with Ronon and the Wraith.

"Where is it?" One guy shouted into his radio as he looked up at the chopper's light through the trees above them.

"..lost…no heat signature." Ronon frowned at the news as he tried to pull on his leg trapped under the stump again.

"Sir, you need to hold still, you've got a broken ankle here," one man told Ronon, but he was more interested in the radio conversation.

"Where did they lose it?" He demanded.

"Its signature was cooler than the norm anyway, but it was dropping further as it left Ronon's position. We're sweeping the area to see if we can get a lock," the chopper reported.

Ronon grunted in anger.

The tall soldier finished waving out his instructions for his team to sweep out into the trees some more. "Where the hell did it go?"

The stump had been lifted from Ronon's ankle and he looked down to see that it wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be, but he would not be running again any time soon. He muttered a particularly vulgar Satedan swear word under his breath as he hauled himself up right, with a little assistance from a soldier.

"We need to sweep all the area, check everywhere." Ronon suggested. "It could have gone into hibernation to avoid the chopper."

"There are several buildings it could have reached, if it's still here we'll find it," the man said with a determination that Ronon recognised from Sheppard. Ronon nodded, though something inside told him that it wouldn't be that easy, because nothing with this Wraith had been easy so far.

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It was an ancient place; deep and dark and sacred. There was something to its location, to the richness of the soil that spoke of its importance. It was a place of ancient voices, deep rich power and still quietness that nurtured something inside.

People were drawn to the place, yet some feared it. But, it had always been sacred for many generations, for many different peoples. It was a safe place to hide what needed to be hidden, for its thickness of scents and life force meant that anything could be obscured. It would be safe in a place respected and honoured forever.

Yet, times moved and people changed. What was once revered and honoured had been abandoned completely only to be found again by those seeking only lands and greed. What had been respected and revered had been ignored and built upon. Yet, what was deeply secure in the Earth still waited, for perhaps it was even safer now; where none would think to look.

Deeply buried and forgotten it would go unseen under the frantic small lives of the city above. Waiting till it could be used, till it would step out of the rich hidden darkness to be used to remind others of the primitive beginnings of life. It was a sacred place and it would be remembered again…if only he could reach it in time.

Teyla woke abruptly from the dark memories in her dream. She sat upright, her heart hammering through her rib cage. She touched her hand to her chest, feeling the rapid anxious beating beneath. Her breaths were loud and vibrant to her ears as she realised not only that she really was alive, but that she was no longer in any pain. She pushed back the sheets over her and lifted the pale basic shirt someone had put her in. Her middle came into view and she slid her fingers over the area she knew had been the site of her injury. There was no sign of what had happened to her, no scar or blemish on her skin. A part of her suggested it hadn't been real, but she knew that would be denial.

She flattened her palm over her middle, feeling the ghost memory of her pain, but it was already fading; as if her mind did not wish to remember it any more. She let it go, but the memories around it did not. The Wraith, its cold angry mind, had killed her. It was not like she hadn't come up against death before, but this was different, for she was sure that she remembered her life ending. She took a few deep breaths to centre herself and prove to herself that she did in fact still live. This was real.

She realised she did not know where she was and dropped her shirt to turn her focus on something other than her mixed chaotic emotions. She was in a small room that looked like it belonged in an Infirmary of some kind. The walls were painted in a dull pale colour and the building felt vaguely empty around her.

She sat up further in the bed, moving gently as if she expected her wound to be painful again. Of course she felt nothing, except her own thundering breaths and heart beat. She had the desperate need to hold Torren, to see him and she closed her eyes against the flood of knowing that she had almost left him motherless. Her heart ached inside her chest at the thought and the knowledge that she had actually died. Her mind dwelt on the memories a little longer, refusing to let them fade just yet. She remembered the pain of simply breathing, remembered it growing more painful and difficult to draw in a clear breath and then everything had stopped and she had known she would not draw in another again. John's voice seemed to echo in that moment which led to nothing, but suddenly breathing in again, her pain gone. Though there was no memory she knew, somehow, that she had been dead. She had no memories of meeting the Ancestors in that moment, of seeing her lost family once again. That thought seemed to preoccupy her more then than the fact that she had actually died.

Something drew her attention and she turned abruptly to look around the room, only to find that she was alone as she had thought. She stilled in that moment, listening to the empty quiet of the room and something inside stirred. Something growing inside her that felt more like her old self, yet she knew she would never again be as she was. This experience had changed her.

She took a breath and remembered that work needed to be done. She pulled aside all the sheets away from her legs and swung herself round to place her feet on the floor. It was a cold shiny floor beneath her bare feet as she walked away from the bed towards a lone chair on which sat a folded black uniform. She wondered where her own clothes were, but then she remembered the blood. She pulled on the clothes, surprised that they fitted so well, and that someone had even remembered to leave boots for her.

As she dressed the pieces of her memories all came back together, as did all she had seen in the Wraith's mind. She had to find someone quickly to take her back into the field to stop the Wraith. Dressed, she stood and walked to the door, peering through the small glass window before she opened it to stark bare corridors of a military base.

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It had taken him over an hour to get to the showers. He had made sure that he had read all the current reports and spoken directly with every unit out there in the field, but there wasn't much else he could do at the moment. So, he had finally taken Carson and Rodney's none to subtle hints that he should go and change.

He dropped his change of clothes down on the bench in the changing room, before he turned and locked the door behind him. There were other washrooms downstairs so he felt safe in locking this one up for himself. He had removed his vest earlier, but admittedly there was still plenty of blood soaked into his jacket and trousers. He sat down on the bench with a rather defeated air and began pulling off his boots.

They had no idea where the Wraith had gone. Somehow it had evaded all their search teams, after having killed half of them and injured most of the other half. Uosa, who had looked as pale and exhausted as he had felt, had explained that the Wraith usually dropped in and out of hibernation. It was a clever technique as in that state its life readings didn't register, it couldn't be picked up on heat seekers and Uosa couldn't sense him. He would apparently drop in and out of this state as he moved around, and when in hibernation Wraith had the ability to still sense when people came too close. A feeding instinct as Carson had called it.

John had sent out orders to have the entire area around the mall cordoned off and a line of soldiers formed around it, but the truth was that the net might be too late. The Wraith may already have snuck out of the area before they got the net up. Uosa hadn't been too helpful, as she had had to sleep herself after eating a little. John couldn't blame her, in fact he couldn't ever think badly of her again after what she had done.

John put aside his boots noting that there was plenty of blood over them as well. He stood and stripped off his clothes, dumping them all in one heap on the floor before he walked through the empty changing room towards the showers. A wall of mirrors was set over the washbasins that he passed and he paused at the reflected sight of him. Blood was smeared in a dried thin layer over his cheek and across his forehead, despite the fact that he had wiped his face earlier. His arms were dark with dried blood as well; no wonder the others had wanted him to change.

He moved on to the showers and turned the dial to hot and the water poured down over his shoulders. The rapid rhythm of the falling water was relaxing over his back as he leant one arm against the cold white tiled wall. The water circling his feet which ran away down towards the drain was running red now, a pale weak colour that stained the clean white surface of the floor. John idly rubbed one foot over the staining and the red washed away. He looked down at his arms over which the dried blood still clung.

He didn't understand what had happened. Of course he knew that Teyla had been injured and Uosa had saved her, but there was something in the middle that had been so raw and painful that he had tried not to think about it for the past hour or so. Yet, now alone, he couldn't stop his mind from wilfully wandering into those memories.

The pain of his fear for Teyla swarmed back over him and he felt the prickling in the back of his eyes that heralded tears. He squeezed his eyes shut willing himself to be strong, but he had been through enough of these kinds of situations to know what aftermath was like. He might try to hold it back, but it would get you eventually. But, then he hadn't really been through anything like today before. He had thought he had experienced most things over the years; from crushing failure, to ultimate rejection and then the horrors of what the Pegasus galaxy had shown him. Through it all he had worked on, striving onwards. But, today had been different. People said there were moments in the military life when you came up against the truth of the life you had chosen. Those moments which lifelong dedicated service men and women would suddenly afterwards say; enough. They would walk away from the military life and no one really blamed them for it. Usually it was after something so horrific that they then decided they had seen enough and left, instead turning towards a hopefully brighter happier life.

John had experienced plenty of doubting moments, plenty of points in his career in which he wondered if he should stay serving, but they were usually passing thoughts that everyone experienced. Today had been different. He had held Teyla to him and had hated the life he and she had chosen. A life that would lead to Teyla to being skewered through by a clothes rail pole in an empty closed department store by a creature so cruel and evil that it would happily kill her without a moment's thought. She had a beautiful little boy who deserved to grown up happily with his parents. John hated himself for being part of what had brought her to that moment. He blamed himself for pulling her into it and for not taking enough care over her today.

Such thoughts of regret and self recriminations were not new either, but the splitting pain of holding Teyla as she literally died in his arms had been new. It had shattered something inside him that he hadn't felt so strongly since he had lost his mom as a kid. What he had felt today had been deep and so very earth shattering that it was almost unrecognisable to him now. He knew then this was what he had been trying to avoid for so many years with Teyla; losing her. He had known on some stupidly intelligent level of himself that she was the kind of woman that would demand everything of him, including that kind of intense, raw pain when she left. For years he had kept her at a distance, believing he was saving himself something and that maybe he was saving her from him as well; because he would fail her eventually.

And today had arrived despite all his attempts to stop it and he hadn't seen it coming. He had felt just what he had feared; he had let her down and then had felt what he never wanted to. He remembered the feeling of standing over his father's casket; the mix of emotions then had been so conflicted that they had been a dull heavy weight that had sat in his chest and stomach for months afterwards. But, today had been different to that; whereas that had been dull and heavy, today had been as raw as the open gushing wound in Teyla's middle had been.

He had cried over her. He had begged her to stay with him and had promised to always look over her son. He had opened himself up in ways he had never wanted to, but at the same time perhaps had always wanted to. The tears dripped from his cheeks and nose now, dripping down to the still reddish water falling around his feet.

He stood back from the wall and turned his attention to the simple bar of soap set to one side. He soaped up his hands and set about scrubbing away the last remains of her blood over him. The suds turned pink with it and when he washed them away his skin felt cleaner, but the emotions remained. He washed himself over, methodically cleaning himself and letting the tears run with the shower's water. No one could see him and no one could judge him here.

Washed thoroughly he rested a forearm back against the tile wall and sighed down at the clear water around his feet. He really hated the aftermath. He turned off the water, but he didn't move. He watched the water trickle down to its last around his feet and then the last of it running off to the drain, leaving everything white and clean again. His tears had stopped at least, but the weakness in his chest was still there. He rested his head against his forearm, ignoring the cold chill over his wet body.

He could hardly believe what Uosa had done. He had watched her pulling that damn pole out of Teyla, saw the strain and effort in her entire body as she worked at something John could never hope to understand. But, Teyla had still gasped her last breath and the fear in John had almost broken him as he had seen the life go out of her. Uosa had asked him to help, but what could he do? All he could do was beg Teyla to return, to talk to her of Torren and how he needed his mom. How they all needed her and somewhere in those repetitive words, many of which he couldn't recall anymore, something had happened. He had closed his eyes and begged again and something had happened. He had no idea what, and maybe it was all Uosa, but he remembered his hand under Teyla's head growing hot and he had calmed. Then Teyla had gasped for life and Uosa had lifted her hand away from Teyla's entirely healed middle and John was stunned. He had seen the 'miracles' of the Ancients before, but this was new, for he had been so invested in what happened. It had shaken him more than anything before.

He stood away from the wall and padded his dripping wet body back into the changing room. He had forgotten to bring a towel with him, but he didn't care. The cold seemed to help him now. He moved to the washbasins, leant his hands against the cool surface and took in his appearance once again. The dried blood had gone from his face, but the dark circles under his rather red tinged eyes had not. His eyes dropped to his bare chest, absent of the comforting weight of his dog tags and he knew he wouldn't give up this life. It was a part of him and though he hated it sometimes, he knew it was also a part of Teyla. It had almost killed her and tomorrow none of them might be as lucky, but it was their choices. He smiled grimly them as he dropped his head down, for he remembered his words to Uosa before they had entered the mall; that everyone knew what they had signed up for on this mission. Teyla and he both knew what they had signed up for and his moments of doubt drifted away in the cool light of returning reason.

He took a breath and let it out smoothly, his mind once again returning to the problem of the Wraith. He headed away from the mirrors towards the bench holding his towel and his clean clothes.

A fist hammering on the door.

"Colonel, Teyla's awake," a voice reported from the other side and the last pieces of tension in John faded; she was okay.

"On my way," John shouted back through the door as he hurriedly dried himself down and reached for his new uniform.

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TBC