I'M SORRY!

I am so sorry about how long it's taken to update this. To all the people who reviewed or sent me messages since the last chapter was posted: yes, I fully intend to continue with this story and to eventually finish it. I've planned it all out and really do want to get it done, but this chapter stumped the hell out of me. As you can tell from the title, this chapter is based around an extremely important episode, and was going to be completely action-packed. However, I SUCK at writing action, and it's been annoying me for a year... so I changed the entire format of the chapter and here it is, completely different to how it was going to be but with the salient points still included. One day I might write this chapter as it was going to be as a companion piece.

I faithfully swear that the next chapter will be up soon.

Chapter Eleven – Prodigal

John yawned for the eleventh time in three minutes, shuffling round a corner in the labyrinthine corridors of the East Pier. It was only about 9pm (or the Atlantis equivalent, anyway), but John was beat. Torren had been really fussy lately, and crying all hours of the night. John had to be on constant stand-by, ready with a bottle or a diaper or a hug to calm him down, and then there were some nights when nothing but a walk could get Torren off to sleep.

Tonight was one of those nights.

John had been walking around the deserted corridors for almost an hour, and Torren was just now starting to drop off. He was wrapped in a blanket and snuggling against John's chest, his head lolling against his shoulder. Tired as he was, John couldn't help but smile at the sight. He was a cute kid.

John slowed down his walk, his eyes fixed on Torren, watching for any signs that he was about to wake up again. His eyes stayed closed and John could feel his little chest rising and falling evenly as he breathed, and John sighed with relief. Now to get him back to his quarters without waking him up. He started to turn around very slowly.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bright yellow remote-control car came whizzing round the corner, heading straight for John's feet. He jumped back against the wall with a yell, his arms tightening around Torren.

"Sorry!"

"McKay?"

"Sorry – didn't expect anyone to be down here," Rodney said, rounding the corner.

John stepped away from the wall, glaring at McKay. "I could have dropped him!" He exclaimed. His eyes widened and he looked down at Torren, expecting him to have woken up, but he was fast asleep. John looked back at Rodney, who was at least looking a bit repentant.

"Look I'm sorry, I really didn't think that – come to think of it, what are you doing down here?"

John glared a bit more, for good measure. "I'm walking Torren, it's the only way to get him to sleep," he told him.

Rodney nodded. "Ooh, he's colicky, huh?

John shrugged. "Keller says it's just a phase," he said.

Rodney nodded again. "Don't worry about it. I was a colicky baby too," he said.

"Just do what my Mom did – let me cry myself to sleep. I'm no worse for it."

John stared at Rodney for a moment before shaking his head. "Remind me never to let you babysit again. Ever."

Rodney rolled his eyes and walked past John to pick up the car. "So you're racing?" John asked.

"No – it's just me," he said. "You said you couldn't, and Ronon hates racing cars because he actually loses."

John sniggered – Ronon's face had been pretty funny when he'd lost the race to Rodney that time.

"Since you're here anyway, though, you wanna race?" Rodney asked. "I've got the red car with me too."

John hesitated for a moment, but then shook his head. "I've got to get Torren back to bed," he said.

"You're no fun anymore," Rodney grumbled.

"No, I guess I'm not," John said. And it did kind of suck, not having the time to race toy cars with Rodney anymore, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't the biggest deal in the world – and John would pick Torren over a car race any day.

He bid Rodney good night and headed back the way he'd come, being careful not to jog Torren too much – though if jumping out of the way of Rodney's car hadn't woken him up, it was probably gonna take more than a little jostling to wake the kid.

It was just then that the lights went out.

John stopped. He waited for the lights to come back on, or for the back-ups to kick in, but nothing happened. Carefully, he extracted one arm from around Torren and tapped his ear piece.

"This is Sheppard, what's going on?"

Nothing, not even static. John tried again.

"Control room come in, this is Sheppard."

"Sheppard?"

John turned round towards the voice. "Over here, McKay," he called out. He rubbed a hand over Torren's back, but he was still fast asleep.

A dark, Rodney-like shape rounded the corner. "Is your radio working?"

"No, yours?"

Rodney walked over to John. "I can't get anyone," he said.

John looked away, down the gloomy corridor, and then turned back to Rodney. "Follow me."

He led the way over to a doorway about twenty feet away and stepped out onto a balcony – from there they could see up the East Pier to the Central Tower.

Rodney stepped out behind John. "That's strange – the lights are out all over the city except the control room," he said. John nodded, swallowing down a sudden feeling of panic; it was eerie, to see the city so dark.

"Why's that?" He asked Rodney, hoping there was some reasonable explanation that he was missing.

But Rodney ignored him and tapped his earpiece, looking concerned. "This is Doctor Rodney McKay calling anyone in the control room, please respond."

John tightened his arms around Torren. "Something's definitely not right."

XXXXX

As always, it was John's hearing that returned first, and as always it was the steady thrum of machinery and quiet beeps that told him he was in the infirmary. Unlike the last time he'd woken up there, though, John knew exactly what had landed him there.

Michael.

John kept his eyes closed, and concentrated on what he could feel – he hurt in a few places, but not too badly. As he lay there cataloguing his injuries, he could remember each and every punch and kick that caused them, and he hurriedly focused on the sounds of the room instead. Under the usual noises of the infirmary there were the sounds of breathing and someone shifting around, and John figured that someone was sitting next to his bed.

There was a muffled clunking noise for a moment, and then someone spoke.

"What's going on with the lights?"

It was Ronon, and sure enough he was sitting beside John's bed. Rodney answered a moment later from the other side.

"It's just glitches while they're bringing the primary systems back on-line and re-establishing the firewalls," he said.

"You don't need to be there?"

"Radek can handle it," Rodney said. There was the same strangle clunking sound and this time John noticed things get a bit darker as the lights flickers.

Rodney cleared his throat. "I don't wanna –"

John opened his eyes.

Rodney noticed and his extremely worried expression lightened a little. "Hey!"

Ronon leant forward. "Hey – you okay?"

John nodded, and carefully propped himself up on his elbows. Several parts of his body registered what were probably humungous bruises, but he winced and then ignored it. Rodney and Ronon were sitting in plastic chairs, staring at him, and both of them looked like hell. Ronon had some impressive bruises of his own.

John cleared his throat. "Where's Torren?" He asked. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine – Jennifer's got him," Rodney said.

"Is he hurt?" John exclaimed. He'd been alright when John'd last seen him, but if he was with the Chief Medical Officer...

"No, he's fine, honestly – she's just looking after him," Rodney said quickly. "I think he's asleep."

John nodded. "Michael?"

Rodney and Ronon shared a glance before Rodney answered. "We found his body," he said. John gave him a doubtful look. "He's dead. Very dead," Rodney said.

"I can't believe I didn't get to kill him myself," Ronon said from John's other side.

John gave him a sardonic look. "Sorry."

Ronon gave him a grim smile. "I'll get over it."

John nodded, images of his final fight with Michael coming back to him. He shut his eyes again and flopped back against the pillows.

"Hey. You got him," Rodney said, sounding worried again. "It's over."

John opened his eyes and looked at Rodney, and then at Ronon. He sighed. "Yeah. It is," he said. "He told me –" The words stuck in John's throat and he closed his eyes again.

There was a moment of silence. "What?" Said Ronon eventually.

"What did he say?" Rodney asked.

John opened his eyes again, but kept them fixed on the ceiling. "Teyla was on the cruiser," he said flatly. "She's dead."

There was more silence. "Are you sure?" Rodney asked.

John turned his head slightly to look at Rodney. "When we beamed off the cruiser, Michael knew what was gonna happen, so he just ran for the jumper," he said. "He left her behind."

Rodney looked stricken, and John had to look away again. "But he..."

"It was Torren he wanted," John cut Rodney off, flatly, wanting this conversation to be over as soon as possible.

Ronon seemed to want the same – he pushed back his chair from the bed and stood up, striding across to the other side of the room. He stopped next to the wall and stood with his back to John and Rodney. He didn't say anything.

John swallowed and looked back at Rodney – he was staring down at the edge of John's blanket. "It was always a long-shot," he said quietly.

"Yeah," said John.

Rodney shifted in his seat, his eyes still down. "I guess... at least now we know."

Ronon strode across the room and through the door, just as Keller was coming through in the other direction. She had to jump to the side to avoid being knocked over by Ronon, but he didn't stop or even slow down. John looked back at Rodney, and saw that he was now looking at the wall above John's head, and his eyes were brimming with tears.

John looked back at Keller.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" She asked him.

"I'm alright."

"You've got some bumps and bruises, but no breaks and no internal bleeding – I'll get you something to eat and then you can go," Keller said, walking over to the end of his bed.

For the first time in his life, John wasn't happy at the idea of leaving the infirmary. He refused to think about why. "Right," he said.

Keller looked a little puzzled by John's reaction and she looked over at Rodney, but at that moment he jumped to his feet and hurried out of the room without looking at her or John.

Keller stood staring after Rodney for a moment, before looking back at John with a question in her eyes. John couldn't even face the thought of repeating himself, so he just looked away.

Keller paused a moment and then cleared her throat a bit. "Torren's asleep in the other room – he's fine," she said.

John nodded. "Good. Thanks."

"You wanna see him?"

John opened his mouth to say yes, because of course he wanted to check that he was okay after what happened. But before he could speak he imagined seeing him, seeing Teyla's son now that he knew what had happened... that there was no chance at all... he knew he couldn't face it. So he shook his head.

"No, it's okay," he said. "Let him sleep."

TBC