Thanks to everyone. Some for posting for me. Other's for the beta-ing they do and the rest of you for the awesome reviews. :Smooches to everyone:


John came awake with a jolt, head aching, heart thudding hard in his chest, his skin slicked in a cold sweat. The images of yet another nightmare lingered in his mind and he wished he had some way to scrub them out. He reminded himself that his suicide run during the Siege had ended with the Daedalus's timely arrival and that Atlantis had been saved. But in his dream he had released the nuke from his puddle Jumper and had destroyed Atlantis.

Glancing at his watch, it made John cringe to see that he had only been asleep for two hours. Obviously the sleeping pills weren't working, and neither was the Aleve. Pressing his fingertips to his throbbing temples, John eased out of bed. He was shivering from the cold dampness of his own sweat, his clothes sticking to him. Stripping them off, John headed for the shower. He stood beneath the hot spray long enough to wash away the memory of the nightmare. Or rather the images from it. He still felt the horror and the fear that sent tremors throughout his body.

Leaving the shower, John dried off then headed to the other part of his room for warm, dry clothes. He wished he felt better, then he'd risk going for a run. He really didn't want to remain in his room, but if he snuck out in his present condition someone would see him. He knew Beckett would end up finding out and haul him back to the infirmary. So John resigned himself to being a prisoner in his room until morning. Which meant if he slipped out at 5am, he still had five hours to kill. Sighing as he pulled on boxers and sweat pants, John wished he didn't feel so lethargic. But what was worse was the jittery feeling he couldn't shake. The anxiety that rippled through him.

Yanking open his t-shirt drawer, John pulled out a gray one from the bottom of the pile and with it came a drawstring bag that landed on the floor. Scooping it up, it took him a moment to remember what it was. A smile curved his lips as John remembered M4X-221. They had made friends there. Beckett had even come for a visit and to talk to Rala, the medicine woman. She had been tiny and lined and looked about 150 years old, but she had been sharp as a tack and John had enjoyed her company. At the end of their visit they had been invited back, anytime, and Rala had pulled him off to the side to give him the bag.

She told John it contained an herb called Shuloc and that if he put one leaf in a cup of tea, every day, he would find peace of body and mind. After thanking her, John had tucked it into his vest, then tossed it in his t-shirt drawer. That had been over four months ago. He pulled the t-shirt on and was about to put the bag back when he decided it wouldn't hurt to make a cup of tea. He could try and relax with it while reading his book.

Closing the drawer, but with the bag still in hand, John went over to the corner table. He had a hot plate set up and he went about making himself a cup of tea. Pretty much everyone had one in their rooms now, ever since Zelenka had figured out how to connect them to the Ancient tech. John brewed a cup of plain tea and once it was steaming he opened the bag and took out a Shuloc leaf. It was tiny and blue and he dropped it into the cup. It appeared to dissolve immediately. Unplugging the hot pot, John took his tea back to the bed, rearranged the covers, then settled himself comfortably. Taking a sip of the tea, he realized the herb was tasteless. With a shrug he reached for his book and removed the bookmark from page 83. At least tonight he should make some headway on it during five hours.

But within an hour the tea was gone and John felt himself getting drowsy. It was hard to focus on the words now as they started blurring together, so he set it aside and dimmed the lights with a thought. Only as he was settling himself under the covers did he realize his headache was gone. It was a welcome relief.

Thoughts becoming fuzzy now, John drifted off to sleep. And this time he dreamed of flying without wings.

OoO

He overslept. It was such a rare occurrence that John wasn't sure how to react. As he blinked at the time on his watch, after 8am, he reached for his radio. He was relieved when Lorne reported that everything was fine. John pretended not to notice that Lorne sounded odd. He knew it was in reaction to his own anxiety. But once he knew everything was fine - other than the fact that Elizabeth was still missing and the Wraith were still on their way - John felt the anxiety ebb away. He felt surprisingly good. His headache was still gone and for the first time in a long time he felt rested.

Sliding out of bed, John took a moment to straighten the blankets, then he headed for the bathroom. He emptied his bladder and took a shower, shaved and got dressed. He was strapping on his thigh holster when his eyes fell on the bag of Shuloc herbs. Deciding that it couldn't hurt to have another cup, John plugged in the hot pot. He tied around his room while it steeped then swallowed it down while checking updates on his lap top, feeling a sense of warm well being as he drained the cup to the dregs.

John was beginning to believe that Rala's herb was medicinal in nature. That she had been right when she told him he'd feel better in body and mind. The stuff was better than Aleve. Being able to sleep without pain or nightmares had gone a long way in helping John feel better.

Shutting down his laptop, John rinsed his mug, put the bag of Shuloc back in the drawer then headed out of his room. He was starving so his first stop was the mess hall. After grabbing what passed for pancakes, he sat down at a corner table and started eating. He was halfway through the pile when Beckett suddenly appeared beside him. "Doc," John offered in greeting.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carson queried, his eyes roving over John. "You look decidedly better this morning." He seemed pleased at that.

"I'm feeling better," John allowed as he set down his fork. Apparently his eyes were bigger than his stomach. He gestured to the chair across from him. "Want to sit?"

Carson nodded then sat down. He was still eyeing John carefully. "So I take it the sleeping pills are working?"

John started to tell him no but swallowed it down and said instead, "Seem to be." He wasn't sure why he was lying about it, why he didn't want to tell Beckett about the Shuloc.

"And the headache? Still with you?" Carson was asking.

"It's gone," John said, and it felt wonderful to say that and mean it.

Narrowing his gaze, Carson gave John an intense look, then he visibly relaxed and nodded. "Yes, I can tell. You really do look much better."

John chuckled. "A good night's sleep works wonders."

"Just keep taking the pills for a few nights," Carson advised. "If you stop too soon you'll feel the adverse effects of it."

"Sure," John replied, knowing that he wasn't going to touch the pills. They hadn't helped him one bit. In fact, he was starting to wonder if maybe his nightmares had been so bad because of them. Maybe his subconscious mind was more subjective to them when he was drugged up, making him lose control of his own thoughts.

Glancing at his watch, John realized it was getting late. "I'd better get to the office," he said to Beckett. And that sounded way too weird. John had never been an office kind of guy. Never had been, never would be. Rising to his feet he grabbed his tray.

Carson stabbed a finger at his plate. "You really need to eat more, Colonel. A few more bites would do you good."

"I promise to eat a big lunch," John said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Beckett would never let up about his weight. Even though, if he were honest with himself, John knew he was under par at the moment. He'd make it up eventually. "See you later, Doc," John offered before turning away to stride over to the garbage cans. He scraped the remainder of his breakfast into the waste bins, then set his plate and tray in the proper receptacles.

A few minutes later John was settling in at Elizabeth's desk. He set to work on a few reports he'd been ignoring, having expected Elizabeth to be back to do them herself. Evaluations. John hated evaluations. To his mind words on paper didn't mean a damn thing. They didn't show a person's true worth. Actions were what mattered, and even a retelling of them didn't put things into the proper perspective most of the time. He knew that firsthand, probably better than anyone. But he trudged through the dozen evals until a knock sounded. Glancing up from the laptop screen, John was surprised to see Caldwell standing there. "Something wrong?" he asked, and it was a rather knee jerk reaction, given the situation they were in.

But Caldwell shook his head as he entered the room. "If you have a minute I thought we could go over strategy."

"Sure." John nodded at the empty chair across from him then sprawled back in his own. "I thought we already discussed strategy," he stated. "Has something changed that I don't know about?"

"Not really," Caldwell replied, his tone a bit sharp. He looked a bit unsettled. "We're counting on the energy weapon from the chair being something we can use to defeat the Wraith. But what if McKay doesn't get it figured out? What then? Realistically, we can't defeat three Hive ships."

John wasn't happy about that particular truth, but he couldn't fault Caldwell for bringing it up. "Then we have to hope the shielding and the drones hold out," he said firmly. He watched Caldwell nod, sensing that there was something else going on here. They had already discussed these options with Lorne and the Major had informed John earlier, when he'd radioed him from his room, that Caldwell had been bugging Rodney and Zelenka about the chair. So there had to be something else going on here. John decided to wait Caldwell out.

He didn't have to wait long.

Caldwell shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable, then he stood and paced towards the corner, making an attempt to look relaxed. After a moment he cleared his throat then asked, "Have you thought about what will happen if Doctor Weir doesn't come back?"

"Not really." John frowned at Caldwell. He hadn't thought about that for a lot of reasons, not the least of which being that he wasn't going to allow himself to believe that Ronon and Teyla wouldn't find Elizabeth and bring her home. He just hoped there was a home for all of them to come back to.

"You should think about it," Caldwell countered.

John felt himself growing angry. "I don't have to think about it!" he snapped, feeling suddenly defensive. "She'll be back!"

Caldwell looked grim but determined as he faced John down, moving to glare at him from across the desk. "But what if she doesn't? You have to prepare for that possibility, Colonel."

"Then I suppose the SGC will send someone to replace her," John replied. And that almost physically hurt to say. He wondered why Caldwell felt the need to bring this up now. They had more important things to worry about. Elizabeth was coming back so this was a moot point and a waste of precious time. It had the added bonus of getting on his nerves. Although Caldwell seemed gifted in that particular area anyway. Getting on John's nerves just by showing up. He knew they would always have a pissing contest going on between them, even when they were on the same side of things.

"My impression is that General O'Neill wants you in charge," Caldwell replied, his tone as sharp as the look in his eyes. "He's overruled Landry to make sure you stay in command now."

John could see how much that grated on Caldwell. He supposed he couldn't blame the guy. John knew better than anyone that he really didn't belong in command anywhere. Not even here in Atlantis. But be that as it were, he didn't want to think about this now. And really, it was ridiculous to even think about O'Neill putting him in charge permanently. Since he didn't want to have this conversation, John made a show of looking at his watch. "I have to get to the chair room," he drawled. With that he stood up and headed for the door, smoothly side-stepping past Caldwell whose glower he could feel pinned to his back as he exited the room.

John shook it off as he stepped into the nearest transporter. A moment later he was walking into the chair room, seeing Rodney pacing and Zelenka sitting on the floor next to the chair, pulling at his hair. It made him look rather comical and John felt himself grinning.

Radek looked up as if sensing his presence. He scrambled to his feet and approached John. "Colonel, you are well?" he asked, then rambled on before John could reply. "Yes, you are looking much better."

"I am better," John conceded. "How are things going here?" He raised his voice to include Rodney in the question.

"Terrible!" Rodney snapped. "We haven't progressed in the least. And in case you haven't noticed, we only have four days until the Hive ships arrive!"

John moved to his side, reaching out to grip Rodney's shoulder. Hoping to ground him a little bit. John knew that Rodney needed to be distracted from his own fears. And there was nothing more terrifying than knowing you were about to face off with a bunch of life sucking alien vampires. "I've noticed," he said quietly. "We'll figure something out." John patted Rodney's shoulder then moved to sit down in the chair. He didn't see Rodney stare at him, then make an attempt to shake himself out of his mood. John was too busy connecting with Atlantis.

It was a seamless interaction. One minute he was just himself, the next he was a part of Atlantis and she was a part of him. John slid through her, weaving into her consciousness, making it his own. It seemed as simple and obvious as breathing. Without having to form the questions in his mind, John was asking her if she could help him with the weapon. Help him find a way to use the energy that he could feel humming around him. Inside him. He knew there was a way, but he couldn't quite figure out what he knew that Atlantis was trying to tell him.

The sound of his name shook John out of the connection. He remained joined with the chair, but outwardly aware of Rodney talking to him. "What?" John asked, having to shake off an almost lethargy. But it was pleasant this time and his head didn't ache like it usually did. The memory of the tea flittered through John's mind, then he forced himself to focus on McKay.

Rodney was shaking a finger at him. "We need to test the shields," he stated. "To see if you can shield Atlantis completely yet still fire the drones."

"We can do that," John said softly, closing his eyes and making it so even as he said it. He heard Zelenka's gasp of surprise then his and Rodney's excited chatter. Then Rodney telling him to dissolve the shield and John was back into his own awareness, feeling a bit bereft for some reason. He was just starting to weave himself back towards the core of Atlantis, back to the energy core that thrummed against his senses when he heard his radio crackle in his ear.

It was Lorne. "Colonel Sheppard, we have gate activation. It's Teyla's IDC."

John sat up, disconnecting himself without even thinking about it, launching himself from the chair and heading for the door even as he replied. "On my way, Major!" He was running to the transporter, hearing heavy footsteps behind him. He kept the door to the transporter open for McKay and Zelenka. They didn't talk to each other. They were each lost in their own thoughts. John felt like his insides were twisting into knots. He willed the transporter to go faster and suddenly the doors whooshed open and he was on the run.

He reached the gateroom stairs in time to see Caldwell moving towards him. Then his focus was on the gate itself and in that moment Ronon stepped through. John found himself holding his breath as Teyla came next. The knot in his gut twisted tighter but then another form followed. Bedraggled and dirty, but a beautiful sight to behold.

Even before the gate whooshed closed, the room was filled with deafening cheers, applause and cries of welcome home, as Elizabeth Weir stood there, smiling.

John felt a wave of relief that just about threatened to knock him off his feet. Then Elizabeth was turning, seeking him out. He moved towards her, reaching her and seeing the lines of exhaustion on her face. But she was still smiling.

"Colonel," she said softly.

He nodded and replied, "Welcome home."