AN: Wow, how reliable am I? I'm truly sorry about this, you guys. I hate being so... in consistent, but life has been throwing many curve balls. Like my brother showing up with his new girlfriend (who has a child) and telling us that he's getting married to her and wondering if they can all move in... so.. ha, I hope you can forgive me.

Otherwise, we made it! You guys have all been amazing. I know I've been a bad little author, but so many of you have stuck with me, and I really appreciate that.

Thanks: Again to all of you, and to the most wonderful beta ever, sandgnat!! Thank you, thank you!! All of you!

Warning: I'm not very good with endings. Sorry. :(

Finally...

In Between - X

It was a miraculous recovery, or so they told him. John Sheppard didn't remember anything about it. He didn't even remember waking up from his coma that first day. In fact, the first time he could recall waking up was apparently two days after he had come out of his coma and even that was three days ago. So much time had passed without him even knowing it; it was disconcerting to say the least.

He'd been in and out of it, the drugs toying with his mind so bad sometimes that he couldn't tell what was real and what was not; what was a memory, and what was his imagination. But lying in bed 24/7 gave John plenty of time to attempt to sort everything out. Not to mention his desire to remember anything about the day he was attacked or what had happened after he woke up.

All he could ever come up with, however, was not so much memories as feelings and quick flashes. Odd things that he couldn't quite explain, but knew they meant something. They had plagued him for the first day or two, but John had finally decided to put them in the back of his mind after considering the heavy medication he was on; memory was an unlikely luxury and what did come back to him would certainly need to be considered contaminated with the deliriums of a drugged man.

Luckily, John had not been alone in his silent sufferings and confusion; his team had been around since the beginning. In fact, John couldn't remember a moment when he was without at least one team member. Even when he woke up in the middle of the night when Ronon and Teyla were asleep in their own beds, McKay was there in the infirmary. Not so much by choice, as the scientist had landed himself in the infirmary as well, but he was still there.

John was fuzzy on the details as to why Rodney was in the infirmary not from lack of memory, but from everyone's ambiguous answers. No one had been able to give John a good, clear explanation as to why McKay was here, but John didn't really need them to explain it to him anyway.

But whatever McKay got himself into was old news. Rodney had been freed from the infirmary three days ago, though he hung around so much it was as though he never left at all.

"So you're bailing on me again?" John asked from his bed, putting on his best puppy dog face. It certainly didn't have its usual efficiency due to John's still very bruised and sore face.

"You're the one who got yourself beaten to a pulp. You asked for the long stay in the infirmary," McKay replied stiffly as he stood from his chair.

"Yeah? Well don't expect to get any of my pudding," John said, then winced when he tried to reposition himself.

"Want me to get Keller?" McKay asked quickly, his eyes wide.

John rolled his eyes. "No, McKay. I'm fine."

"Ah, here we go again. It's always the same with you. Here you are, black and blue and still being doped to the gills with drugs and what? You're fine. Of course, you are, Colonel. How could I forget?"

"Stop with the dramatics, McKay. I say I'm fine because I am. Now, if I was on the battle field bleeding out with absolutely no possible way of stopping the bleeding in time and you asked me how I was doing…"

"You would still say you were fine. Don't give me that B.S.," McKay interrupted. "Besides, you would never admit there was no possibility of rescue even as you took you're last breath, so that was a trick situation anyway."

John chuckled tiredly and sighed. "I guess you're right. Although, I always end up being fine, so I really don't see why you are complaining so much."

"It's a matter of timing, Sheppard. When we ask, "How are you, Colonel? Are you dying?'" We would like the answer to reflect how you feel at the moment, not how you will feel eventually."

"Well, maybe you should start clarifying."

"Oh, believe me, I will."

"Fine," replied John nonchalantly.

"Fine," McKay said in a huff. Silence fell between them as the scientist began to put his shoes on. John watched him carefully and was pleased to see that he looked entirely refreshed and healthy. It made John feel much more comfortable not having to worry about his team.

"McKay," John started, letting his head fall to the side to see McKay better. His every molecule felt disgustingly heavy and the drugs certainly weren't helping him fight the ever growing lethargy.

"Yeah?" McKay replied without looking up.

"Why exactly were you here?" asked John. "In the infirmary?"

This got McKay's full attention and he soon locked eyes with John. He frowned, then shrugged.

"I had a hypoglycemic attack, from what I understand."

John raised his eyebrows. "From what you understand?"

"Yes. Yes, it was a hypoglycemic attack," Rodney huffed, rolling his eyes. "That's what Keller said."

"You don't seem so sure about it yourself," John said, watching the scientist with a great deal of curiosity. Rodney was getting annoyed, that was obvious, but John could also sense a certain amount of frustration. It was as if McKay was not answering John's question not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't.

"Maybe that's because I'm not," McKay snapped. "I mean, I know I had a hypoglycemic attack and I hit my head, but everything leading up to it… well, it's just really weird."

"Weird?"

"What's with all the questions?" McKay said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. "I can't remember everything that happened, okay? The stuff I do remember - well, some of it just doesn't make sense. And then there were these dreams…"

John perked up at this, feeling the dull throb in the back of his head grow exponentially at the movement. "Dreams?"

John remembered some things himself. Things that were too far-fetched to be real, but too real to be discarded as nothing. He didn't remember much at all, but the few things he did remember, he remembered all too well. Like it had been real. Once again, considering his coma and the amount of drugs he had been on, to take anything literally would be foolish.

"What is it with you?" McKay grunted, straightening his shirt. "Are you seriously going to repeat everything I say with that dumb look on your face?"

John lowered his eyebrows and this and hoped his expression similar to his dad's infamous scolding look.

"Well, if looks could kill, I'd be in a lot of trouble," McKay said mockingly.

John sighed and looked away from the scientist, knowing a loss cause when he saw one. Whatever 'dreams' McKay was talking about had apparently rattled and confused him, enough to make him keep them to himself, especially if they went against science. In cases like those, McKay would consider himself crazy and never talk about them again.

But the fact that John wasn't the only one having problems with his memory somehow managed to ease his discomfort, even if it did nothing to take it away.

"So, Teyla and Ronon are still off world with Leland's team. They checked in a few hours ago when they were in between parties," McKay said with a roll of his eyes. "They keep asking about you, and I keep telling them you're fine. I mean, you're fine enough to bicker and badger me, so that should be good enough for them."

John smiled, thankful of the normalcy of McKay's rambling. He still couldn't get over the fact feeling that whatever McKay was hiding would somehow help John decipher his own tangled mess of memories.

"Has Keller updated you on how long you'll be a prisoner?"

John was pulled from his thoughts as he realized the question was addressed to him.

"Oh, yeah," he said absentmindedly. "Still got two weeks at least. Then there's physical therapy," he continued with a sigh. "Apparently several broken bones equals several grueling weeks."

"Again, you asked for it."

John considered arguing back, but the growing pain, especially in and around his abdomen, ultimately made fighting back not worth it.

"You okay there?"

"Yeah," John said, trying to shift in his bed to relieve the pressure on his back.

McKay grunted. "Why do I even ask you that? When will I learn?" He was now picking up a bag he had brought in, grabbing his hand-held and coffee cup. "I'm going to call Keller in here, even though you are fine."

"Wait, McKay," John said suddenly, surprising even himself. Something had been bothering him, and he had been telling himself to just let it go, but he just couldn't push it aside.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, uh, do you believe in an afterlife, or something like it?"

McKay's eyebrows lowered and looked taken aback. "Like,… heaven? You're not serious, are you?"

John scrunched up his face as he tried to find a better way to phrase it. It was getting hard to think straight due to rising pain and exhaustion.

"Not exactly. Doesn't have to be, anyway. Just any kind of afterlife."

McKay seemed to get the hint that this was a serious subject for John, and made an effort to not appear so judgmental. It was a start.

"Look, I know you're Mr. Scientific, but there's really no way to prove one way or another, is there? We can't talk to anyone who's experienced it…"

"Not necessarily true," Rodney said. "There have been many people who, for all intents and purposes, die, but come back to life. When asked about their experience, they have no recollection of anything at all, which would imply that there is nothing out there waiting for us," he said, his hand twirling towards the ceiling.

John yawned as the exhaustion demanded to be noticed, then winced as his jaw temporarily popped out of place, sending pain throughout the left side of his face. He blinked against the pain, knowing more drugs would be coming soon, then more sleep.

"What if… we're not supposed to remember," John countered. "Or maybe a part of us does remember, but our brains can't understand it?"

He didn't know why this was so important to him. It just was. It was something he, like every other human, had wondered about before, and given recent events and the oddest memories or dreams - or whatever they were - the idea of something more out there plagued him.

"First of all, you need some sleep," said McKay. "Secondly, I don't what's got you so stuck on this subject, but… I guess we don't know for sure what's out there. Just depends on how you look at life, I guess."

John was surprised by his response. Very rarely did McKay admit that science couldn't explain away everything, and the fact that he was doing so let John know there was something going on with McKay too.

John's eyes locked on the scientist's, and he looked back. For a moment, John knew that there was something McKay was hiding, and they somehow shared something now. He didn't know what it was, and didn't think McKay knew either, but there was something there; something unspoken and seemingly impossible to understand.

"I'm getting Keller," McKay said finally, breaking eye contact with John and looking away uncomfortably. "I'm going to grab a bite to eat and take a nap. I'll be back later to discuss some ideas I had for the jumpers."

John took a deep breath a nodded. Whatever had happened in the past week or so, it had affected them both, though neither understood how. And a part of John knew they never would.

He watched McKay walk over to Keller's office, then leave the infirmary.

"Colonel," Keller said warmly, "how you feeling? Any pain, nausea…?"

John shook his head slowly, regretting it as the dull pain became more pronounced. He shut his eyes, trying to block out the now blinding lights.

He heard Keller chuckle. "I see. You know, we're really going to have to work on your communication skills."

He then heard her call over her shoulder for what he knew was more pain medication. He hated the way the drugs made him feel, and yet the pain was beginning to get so bad.

"Colonel, listen to me," Dr. Keller said softly, then waited until John opened his eyes and looked at her. "You're in for a long recovery. I'm sure I don't need to tell just how close we came to losing you, and frankly, we should have. Your body was severely injured and in serious need of rest. And there's no way it's going to do that if your constantly battling pain. Now please, let the medicine do it's job. Let us do our job."

John saw her sincerity, and knew she was right. His injuries went a bit further than the normal broken ribs and/or a bullet wound. He was almost beaten to death, broken bones everywhere and internal bleeding. Besides, the worst of it was over, now he just had to recover.

John felt his IV shift slightly then felt the liquid entering his veins. Seconds later, the exhaustion became unbearable and he knew a deep sleep was just around the corner.

As the lights dimmed and his body became heavier, John recalled his dreams and flashes of memory. Knew there were answers to some of life's most interesting questions out there. And yet, he knew they were not for him to know.

Whatever happened in between the night he was attacked and the moment he woke from his coma would forever be a mystery, and as his body finally let go of consciousness, he decided it was better of that way.

Besides, what's life without a little mystery?

End.

wince. You guys hate me? I'm not very good at endings and this is something I would like to explore further. However, as you can all see, things didn't quite go as planned with real life, and instead of trying to push this story a little further and make you guys suffer, I decided to end it as cleanly as possible, and leave the option to pick up later. Or have someone else pick it up, if they chose to. So.. I hope it was overall enjoyed, but either way, thank you all and it's been a pleasure!