A/N – Wow, I'm very, very sorry about the lack of updates for this story... or any story. I do fully intend to finish this story, and all my other WIPs as well, but it will take me some time.

This chapter is actually the amalgamation of what would have been two chapters, and I think it works better this way – I feel like it's a bit of a filler, but it's not because there is plot... you know what, I'm just going to shut up and let you read it. Sorry, it's late here and I'm tired!

Anyway, please let you know what you think.

Chapter Ten - Parkii

John paused outside his quarters and took a moment to compose himself before entering. He wasn't in a good mood, not at all, and even though little Torren was only a couple of months old and wouldn't have any memory of anything he did or said today, he felt very strongly that the kid shouldn't have to deal with his bad moods. He'd learnt that lesson growing up with his Dad, who'd followed an entirely different school of thought.

When he felt like he could smile and talk cheerfully, even if it was only to a baby, John knocked on the door and walked into his room. Lieutenant Villers, who had been watching the baby for him, stood up from where he was sitting next to his crib. Torren was lying in the crib, awake but looking like he wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Hey Villers," John said, nodding to the young airman. One thing he'd learnt in the last couple of months was that there was no shortage of willing babysitting volunteers on Atlantis, and in the last few weeks he had tried to loosen up a little and let some of them look after Torren. Nothing disastrous had happened yet.

And anyone was better than Rodney and Ronon.

"Evening Sir," said Villers. "Is everything okay?"

"Nothing to report," said John, deftly avoiding the question. Everything was not okay, but he wasn't going to start whining to Villers.

The Lieutenant seemed to know John wasn't in the best of moods though, and gave him a sympathetic look as he picked up his jacket and the comic he'd brought with him. "Okay, well I'll be off, Sir," he said.

John nodded. "Thanks Villers," he said.

"Anytime," the Lieutenant replied. He paused to tickle Torren on the chin, and then quickly left. John took another moment before going over to the crib himself.

It seemed that everyone on Atlantis knew how frustrated and annoyed John was – they were certainly feeling the extra mission load, with every team out searching for news about Teyla or Michael. No team was doing more than John, Ronon and Rodney's, but everyone was doing their share. But there hadn't been a word. Not one single word for almost two months.

John stepped up to the crib and looked down at Torren, who smiled as soon as he caught sight of John. As always, John felt the same strange mix of sadness and affection when he saw him smile – affection, because he'd really become fond of the little guy and loved that he could make him smile so effortlessly, and sadness because when he smiled he looked just like his missing mother.

"Hey buddy," said John softly. Torren grabbed hold of his proffered finger and gave him another smile, which John returned.

"It's way past your bedtime," John said. "No staying up partying tonight, okay?"

He let go of Torren's hand, sat down in his desk chair, only a couple of feet away from the crib and booted up his computer. The weekly mail had come in today, and Chuck had handed him a disc with his messages on for him to read. John wasn't expecting anything other than reports on his salary and maybe a message from Sam, but it wasn't like he had anything else to do right then.

John inserted the disc and reached out to gently rock Torren's crib as he waited for his messages to pop up. When they did his eyes widened with shock – there was one from his brother.

John and David had reconnected somewhat after their father's death, and John always made a point to give him a call on the rare occasion he found himself on Earth, but they hadn't been in contact since Teyla had been taken. He hadn't told him about Torren – hadn't even thought to tell him.

Now though, he wondered what his forthright big brother would say if he knew he was the Guardian of a two-month old baby. He'd probably laugh at the very idea, or just wonder why John was bothering, since he knew nothing about raising kids and would assume there was someone far better suited to take him – it was a train of thought John's own mind had followed regularly, so he wouldn't blame his brother for thinking it too.

Pushing such speculation aside for the moment, John clicked on the message.

Hey John, his brother had written. I hope you're well. I haven't heard from you in a while, so I'm guessing you've been out of touch. I hope you're okay. I'm writing with some great news – you're going to be an uncle!

John blinked and sat back, staring at the last six words. He supposed he should be feeling happy at the news – and he was, in theory. David and his wife Ellen had been trying to get pregnant for a few years now, and John knew they were trying IVF. He guessed it had worked. But really, how was he supposed to be excited about being an uncle when he was still trying to get used to the idea of being – for all intents and purposes – a father?

John kept reading.

The doctor confirmed it last week, and Ellen's been walking on clouds since then. So have I, I guess! Anyway, the baby's due September 5th, and Ellen and I both hope that you can make it back to see the baby when he or she is born. Obviously you're welcome to stay with us. Please think about it. Get in touch soon. Dave.

John had to smile a little at the naïve invitation – they wanted him to stay with them when they had a newborn baby to look after? They had no idea… though John guessed they would have it easier than most new parents, with the household staff there to help.

John winced, remembering the way the housekeeper Mrs Garrison used to yell at him every time he snuck into the stables or rode his skateboard in the house. He felt sorry for his niece or nephew already.

John opened up the special Atlantis email function – the message was sent to a centralised system and then sent through the gate the next time they contacted Earth and forwarded on. He typed in his brother's email address and sat thinking for a few moments.

Dave, he wrote after a while. Sorry it's been so long since I've been in touch. Things have been pretty hectic here. Anyway – congratulations! I'm so happy for you and Ellen, and I definitely will come and visit, though I can't say right now when I'll be able to make it. Tell Ellen to take it easy and concentrate on looking after Baby Sheppard.

I actually have some news myself. A friend of mine, Teyla, had a baby a couple of months ago, and she appointed me his Guardian. Teyla went missing soon after he was born and so I've kind of acquired a baby of my own. His name is Torren, and though it's been a bit of a shock to suddenly have a baby to look after, it's not been as bad as I thought it would be. Hopefully he won't be stuck with me for much longer.

John paused and looked over what he'd written, and then deleted the second paragraph. It didn't seem right, somehow, to tell Dave about Torren over email. He couldn't explain the situation the way he wanted to. Besides, Dave had enough to be thinking about right now.

So, he added a quick Hope you're both well and I'll be in touch sooner next time, John and sent the email off.

John turned back to Torren – he was just drifting off to sleep, and John made sure his blankets were all okay before sinking down onto his couch. So, his brother was having a baby. It was strange how these things always came along in pairs. But it was definitely John's dearest wish that by the time his niece or nephew was born, Torren would be back with his mother.

If only they could find Michael. Everything depended on it – John knew that Michael wouldn't be able to resist holding Teyla over John and his team; if they found him, they found her. It was as simple as that. But finding him was proving to be far from simple. They had nothing to go on but rumour – and months-old rumour at that.

The question that kept John awake into the early hours of the morning every night, though, was had Teyla escaped off the ship with Michael? What if they found Michael and it turned out he'd just left her on the cruiser to die? John didn't believe that that could be the case – Teyla was too valuable to Michael for him to just leave her behind, but the mere thought of it was enough to torture him.

John grabbed a cushion and held it over his face, shaking his head. They had to find Michael. They just had to.

XXXXX

"May this stone of fortune guide you until you are able to forge your own destiny, Torren Emmagen."

"And may the Ancestors bless you, now and always," replied the gathered Athosians.

Rodney leaned across to whisper to John and Ronon. "Does he really have to be that close to the fire?"

Ronon rolled his eyes but John just kept his eyes firmly fixed on the Athosian Elder who held Torren, poised and ready to jump up at any second. They were seated in a ring around a huge bonfire, and the Elder was standing with Torren no more than a foot away from the flames… Rodney may have only just noticed the fire hazard, but John had been stopping himself from jumping up and pulling the man back for the last five minutes.

It had to be nearly over anyway – Torren had his stone, he'd been blessed, etc etc – it was almost over, right?

Suddenly all the Athosians stood up together and said something in Ancient, and after that there was a moment's silence before several people started to talk.

It was over. Thank god for that.

John jumped to his feet and started to hurry over to the Elder who still had Torren, but he was stopped by Jinto and one of his friends. After Jinto he had to say hello to Amana and Halling. Then another one of the Athosian Elders.

He was almost – almost – relieved when he heard Torren crying from somewhere in the crowd; the history of the Rite of Parkii was incredibly boring. John gave the Elder an (completely fake) apologetic look. "Sorry, duty calls," he said.

The Elder just nodded, and John quickly headed through the crowd in the direction of the cries. It was pretty easy to find Torren, since everyone around him were craning their necks to see what was wrong. John brushed past them all to find Torren in the arms of Marta, a young Athosian woman, though she was passing him over to Keller. As soon as Torren was settled in Keller's arms, he stopped crying.

Marta shook her head, smiling ruefully as John walked over to Keller. "He always cries when I hold him," she said.

"Not always," said John, though it was a total lie – Torren did always cry when she held him, even he had noticed.

Marta looked like she didn't believe him. "Yes, always," she insisted. "You must have noticed."

John shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything," he said, believing it completely. He was a baby – who the hell knew why he did what he did?

"He always cries when I hold him too," said another Athosian that John had only met in the past few weeks, a woman named Joah. John had been surprised and a little uncomfortable to learn that Joah was actually Kanaan's cousin, and therefore – in his eyes – eminently more suited to being Torren's guardian than himself. However, he'd never said this to her or to anyone else, and it was obvious that Joah didn't think anything of the kind; what Halling had said about the chosen Guardian being the most important caregiver after the child's parents was obviously true for all Athosians.

John nodded to Joah, and looked at Marta again. "See? It means nothing," he said. He held out his hands for Torren and Keller handed him over, looking strangely thoughtful about something – John had a feeling he'd find out about what later on.

Sure enough, an hour later when they were all headed back to Atlantis in the puddlejumper, she spoke up.

"You know, Marta got me thinking, about why Torren always cries when she holds him," she said.

John glanced over his shoulder at her and then shook his head, turning back to the controls. "He's a baby, you don't have to overthink it," he said.

"I know, it's just – well, both Marta and Joah have Wraith DNA," she said in a rush. "And we know Torren does too…"

There was an almost imperceptible dip in their flight as John's hands slipped slightly on the controls. "Wait," he said, tightening his hands on the jumper and then turning to look at Keller again. "You're saying Torren can sense their Wraith DNA? And that's why he cries?"

John couldn't even wrap his head round the possibility. Torren was a baby. A baby. He was two months old. Maybe Keller was still feeling the aftereffects of that totally heinous plant thing a couple of weeks ago… she looked okay, but maybe she needed more time off.

"It's possible," Keller said. She took in John's incredulous expression, and then saw Ronon and Rodney looking at her in the exact same way, and she held up her hands as she continued. "We know he has more DNA than other Athosians, because both Teyla and Kanaan had it, and they passed it on to him. Genetically it doesn't make much of a difference, but it probably means his ability to sense the Wraith will be stronger than even Teyla's was… is."

John let the slip of the tongue past. "Teyla can't sense it in humans," he said firmly.

"I know. It's just a theory," said Keller, shrugging again. "Like you say it's probably just a baby thing – I guess we'll find out as he gets older."

John turned back to the puddlejumper window, where the lights of Atlantis were just visible on the horizon. "I guess."

Woolsey was waiting for them in the jumper bay when they got back, and John had a feeling, as soon as he saw him, that he wasn't going to like whatever it was the man had to say. Woolsey had been in Atlantis for almost three weeks now, and on the whole was doing an okay job. John was certainly glad to be relieved of the duty of running the place himself, and if the IOA wanted one of their own in charge of the city, Woolsey was definitely the least offensive of them. In fact, John kind of liked the guy.

Still, he was IOA, and he did have an agenda. John was very wary of him.

"Colonel, could I have a word with you in my office?" He said as soon as John approached him.

John could see something had happened, so he nodded and gave Torren to Keller, and she, Ronon and Rodney headed off towards the mess hall to get dinner. Torren was fast asleep.

"Thank you Colonel," said Woolsey as they walked down the stairway to the control room.

"No problem."

"How was the ceremony?"

"It was fine – all the Athosians turned out for it, it was quite nice actually," said John.

They walked through the control room in silence and over the walkway into Woolsey's office. John had now seen this same office under three different leaders, and now Woolsey's decorating style was definitely the most… sparse. Austere might be a good word for it. There was only one picture, and it was of a dog.

John closed the door behind him and got straight to the point. "So what's happened?" He asked.

Woolsey walked round his desk and sat down, gesturing to John to do the same. "Anderson's team got back early today – Lieutenant Farraday was quite badly injured."

"What happened?" John demanded. Anderson and his team had been stationed on M34-097 for almost a week; it was a hostile world, and they were under orders to stay deep undercover and observe for ten days, on the lookout for any activity that might be traced back to Michael – he'd been seen on that world before.

"Anderson and Gregg were captured by some of the natives," Woolsey explained, "Farraday was injured in the rescue. Thankfully it was successful, and Farraday is set to make a full recovery."

"Good," said John. "I'll debrief the team tomorrow, but I'll go see him now." Woolsey nodded, and John could only wait a couple of seconds before asking the question.

"Was there any sign of Michael?"

"None," said Woolsey. "Colonel, we need to talk."

John just looked at him, waiting for him to get whatever it was over with.

"Colonel, M34-097 is a known hostile world, an extremely dangerous environment – I believe it was a mistake for Anderson's team to be there at all."

"Michael has been sighted there, and it makes sense to concentrate our efforts on worlds that he's been active on," said John defensively.

"Not any more."

John fought down the urge to tell Woolsey to suck it – it wouldn't help matters. He took a deep breath and tried to be reasonable. "Okay. No more hostile worlds."

"No Colonel, I'm afraid I'm pulling the plug on the whole operation – this is turning into a wild goose chase, and it's only a matter of time before someone gets killed," said Woolsey. His face was blank and his voice was even – he might as well have been telling John that they were serving fish in the mess hall.

John gaped at him. "I – you're 'pulling the plug'?" He repeated incredulously. "You're… you want us to just stop looking?"

Woolsey nodded, his face still blank. "Yes, I do."

John was on his feet before he'd even realized he was moving. "We can't just stop looking!" He exclaimed, leaning heavily on the desk and glaring at Woolsey. He finally saw some emotion flash in the other man's eyes, and suddenly Woolsey was on his feet as well.

"We don't even know she's still alive!" He retorted. "The entire Daedalus crew saw Michael's cruiser destroyed just moments after your team was transported off it. You yourself attested that Michael was killed."

John stood up straight again, folding his arms. "That was before one of our allies saw him –"

"Might have seen him," interrupted Woolsey coldly. "And not Teyla."

John flinched as Woolsey unwittingly preyed upon his worst fear. He shook his head. "If Michael survived, then –"

"We can't keep doing this Colonel!" Woolsey exclaimed, sounding both exasperated and, to John's surprise, sorrowful. "We can't keep expending resources like this. I'm sorry, I really am, but it's gone on long enough."

John knew he'd lost the argument – once words like 'resources' and 'expending' entered the debate you never stood a chance – and he felt defeated. And guilty – guilty because, on some level, he knew Woolsey was right. But giving up when there was hope, even the smallest bit of it, felt like a brutally deep betrayal. One that he'd experienced before and wasn't ready to experience again.

"You just expect me to give up on her?" He said after a moment, his voice much weaker than he'd intended.

"No I don't," said Woolsey in a sympathetic voice. "I would never expect that, and I wouldn't want you to. But there hasn't been a single lead for two months. If Michael is still alive, he's gone underground and you're not going to find him."

John sank down onto the chair again, and raked his hands through his hair. Woolsey also sat back down, looking a little wary and obviously not expecting the argument to be over.

But John just shook his head. "If I don't find him, I'll never stop wondering," he said.

Woolsey sighed. "I know. But from what I know about Michael, if he is still alive, he'll find us."

John met Woolsey's calm intelligent gaze for a second and then looked away at the wall in front of him. He was right. Michael would never stop trying to get his revenge on Atlantis, and of course they had something that he wanted – Torren. If he had survived, they would see him again.

But in the meantime, they had to stop searching for Teyla. With his heart so heavy it actually felt painful in his chest, John nodded his agreement.

"Thank you Colonel," said Woolsey quietly.

"Is there anything else?" John answered abruptly.

"No."

Without another word, John got up and left Woolsey's office.