The next morning, Elizabeth and Rodney's first stop was the infirmary. A peek through the isolation room window showed a pale but still-breathing Teyla and a rumpled Sheppard asleep in a nearby chair. His head lay on Teyla's bed and his fingers were interlaced with hers. Someone had thrown a blanket over his shoulders at some point during the night.

Carson approached them quietly from behind. "She coded twice more last night but she's been relatively stable the last few hours," he said in a low voice. "She lost a lot of blood, but the transfusions we've given her seemed to have helped."

"Did you get any sleep?" Elizabeth asked sympathetically, taking in the puffy bags under his eyes.

"Not really." He looked at his watch. "Next shift will be here in less than an hour. I'll grab a nap then."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow thinking the doctor probably needed more than just a nap but said nothing. She knew that while she might be able to bully or cajole Carson into going to his quarters, he probably wouldn't be able to rest. General O'Neill's one piece of advice rang in her head -- 'pick your battles because you can't win 'em all.' So instead she asked, "What about our newest arrivals?"

This time a smile creased Carson's tired face. "Come see," he said with a jerk of his head.

They walked over and peered though the adjoining room's window. Both Mary and, surprisingly Kate, were seated in rocking chairs, babies and bottles in hand. The two women seemed to be chatting amiably as they fed the infants. At this distance and swaddled as they were, there was nothing to indicate the babies dual heritage. Kate noticed the movement on the other side of the glass and looked up, catching sight of them and giving them a smile and a nod of acknowledgement before returning her attention back to the bundle in her arms.

"Where did you get the chairs?" asked Rodney.

Elizabeth shook her head. Here they were, barely escaped from a secret Genii medical facility, Teyla practically at death's door, two wraith babies not ten feet away, and he wanted to know where the chairs had come from?

"Ah now, lad," Carson said, his brogue thickening. "I cannae be givin' away all my voodoo secrets now, can I?"

Rodney shot him a disgruntled look. Whether it was because Carson wouldn't tell him where he had gotten the chairs or because the physician had reminded him of a previous insult was hard to tell.

Beckett continued, "So far, they don't seem to be suffering any ill effects from their early delivery. Heart and lungs are strong and they're taking the formula well enough. A little on the small side but time will fix that if they continue to eat like they are."

Silence descended on the little group at the thought of wraith eating habits. Remembered images of husks that were once Gaul and Abrams came unbidden to Elizabeth's mind and she firmly shook them off. "How did Teyla react when she saw them?"

Carson searched his mind and then blinked at her in surprise. "She hasn't seen them yet. Come to think of it, neither has Colonel Sheppard."

"Things were a little chaotic," Rodney explained. "What with Doctor Mengala and his band of scary men."

"When she's recovered," Elizabeth's firm tone said she refused to believe any other scenario was possible, "perhaps you'd better let Kate do the honors."

"Aye," agreed Carson.

-

Teyla opened her eyes to see Carson holding her wrist and looking at his watch. He glanced up when he felt her eyes on him. A pleased smile lit up his weary face.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

"Tired," replied Teyla, but the words were more mouthed than spoken and she was rapidly losing the struggle to keep her eyes open.

Beckett patted her hand gently. "Everything's going to be fine, love, you just go back sleep."

She felt the breeze as the room's door closed behind him and managed to open her eyes again when she realized someone was holding her other hand. Turning her head slightly she saw John, his head pillowed on the bed beside her as he slept. She gently disentangled her hand from his and used it to smooth his unruly hair. Sheppard stirred at her touch, blinking blearily, unsure at first where he was or how he had gotten there. As it all came back to him, he realized Teyla was watching him.

He studied her face for a moment, worried about how she would handle all that had happened, particularly his inability to protect her from any of it. She returned his regard, watching him quietly before reaching out and running the back of her index finger gently along the stubble on his cheek. A tired smile suffused his face and he rose and joined her in the bed so that he could hold her, knowing they both needed it. At first he embraced her like she was a piece of fragile porcelain, afraid to hurt her, but she clung to him, shaking with pent emotion, and he knew she needed more so he hugged her to him as tightly as he dared. Within minutes, she had fallen into a peaceful sleep, still cradled in his arms.

John looked up when the door opened a few minutes later. Carson shook his head slightly as he approached the couple, smoothly disengaging Teyla's sleeping form from John's encircling arms and easing her back down onto the pillows; taking care not to wake her. "We need examine her again and do a few other things," he told John. "In the meantime, why don't you get something to eat and maybe a shower?" He took in the obstinate look on Sheppard's face. "You can come back in twenty minutes," he promised, taking the man by the arm and pushing him firmly out of the door as a nurse entered the room with a tray of medical supplies.

John spent that night on a spare bed in the infirmary; unwilling to be as far away as his quarters but acquiescing to Carson's insistence that he get some sleep in a 'real' bed. The next morning showed continued improvement in Teyla's condition. Though still very weak, she woke several times during the day and even volunteered a few words beyond the answers to the staff's medical inquiries. The next night, Beckett insisted John sleep in his own quarters.

Carson told Kate that he felt Teyla's condition had improved enough to be introduced to the babies. The psychiatrist had spent a sleepless night mentally going over the various scenarios that might result in the meeting and possible ways to counteract the negative ones. Early the following morning, before John arrived, Kate and Mary brought the babies into Teyla's room.

Teyla was sitting in bed, propped up by a mound of pillows, when the two women entered. Kate studied her face carefully trying to find a clue to her thoughts. There was definitely apprehension, maybe even a little fear, also a resigned acceptance as Teyla mentally prepared herself to see the children. Mary held back, allowing Kate to approach the bed first.

Careful not to wake the child, she slipped him into Teyla's arms and stepped back, giving the Athosian some space and time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Teyla frowned at the baby. "He is not as I pictured."

"That seems to be everyone's first impression," said Kate. "Aside from their eyes they look almost human," she said, giving Teyla some warning.

As if on cue, the baby opened his eyes and Teyla jerked slightly in surprise.

"That seems to be the second impression," Kate said wryly to Mary.

Teyla took a deep, calming breath and forced herself to examine the infant, the cat-like eyes her life-long enemy staring back at her...

"They are your children. Carson confirmed they carry half of your DNA," Kate said, hoping Teyla would volunteer some of her feelings on the matter.

The baby blinked his strange eyes and waved a tiny hand.

"He is hungry," said Teyla.

Kate cocked her head in surprise. "Do you know that for certain or is it just a mother's instinct?"

Teyla considered the question. "I can feel it, as if my own belly is empty."

Filing that away for future reference, Kate held out a bottle to her. "Would you like to feed him?" A shadow briefly crossed Teyla's face but she nodded her head and took the bottle. Now that the initial shock had worn off, Teyla concluded that she felt oddly at peace as she held the baby in her arms. A small smile fitted across her face as the infant sucked contentedly on his bottle.

Maybe her children were destined to be the saviors of them all -- wraith and human.

-

Rodney dropped by the infirmary to see John sitting on a gurney, casting glances from time to time toward Teyla's room. He approached the colonel. "Everything okay?"

John, obviously having been deep in thought, looked at him and blinked. "What?"

Rodney hopped up on the gurney beside him and nodded toward the cubical. "What's going on?"

"They're feeding the babies."

"Oh," said Rodney, relieved that the Athosian hadn't had a relapse. "How did she react?"

"I don't know. I haven't been in to see her this morning."

Rodney frowned. "Why are you waiting out here?"

John shrugged.

"I'm sorry, I didn't bring my 'shrug to English' dictionary with me today," quipped the scientist sarcastically. "Perhaps you'd be willing to translate that?"

"I don't think I'm ready to see them yet."

"Oh."

John looked at him. "You've seen them," he said, the unasked question hung in the air.

"Yes," Rodney replied, picturing the children in his mind's eye. "They're not really all that different-looking. In fact if you weren't looking at them closely, you might even think they were purely human. They're kinda like spiders, you know?"

An image of Teyla feeding a five-pound tarantula popped into Sheppard's head and he shuddered.

Rodney quickly clarified his statement. "What I mean, is...spiders, when they're big and hairy, are like Bob and Steve -- scary as hell. But when they're teeny tiny, they really aren't all that frightening."

"I'm not scared of them," Sheppard snapped, irked the scientist would suggest it.

"No, no, of course not," agreed Rodney but his tone implied otherwise. "The most striking thing about them is their eyes, though." He wiggled his fingers at his own eyes for emphasis. "There's no ignoring that. Reminds me of a tabby I once had…"

"Yeah, okay, thanks," said John, cutting off any further remarks from the scientist as he lost himself again in contemplation.

"Sure, no problem," Rodney replied. He watched Sheppard out of the corner of his eye for several minutes before speaking again. "I really screwed up," he said.

John frowned at him. "How's that?"

"The Genii thing. I should have suspected it was a trap. I mean, what are the chances we'd just happen to hear about some mysterious village that might just happen to have the answers we were looking for?"

"Don't beat yourself up over it," said Sheppard. "There's enough blame to go around. I went along with it, too. We were all a little desperate. It clouded our judgment."

Rodney was silent a long moment, then he finally asked, "Do you think she's going to be okay?"

Sheppard eyes were drawn again to Teyla's cubical. "Time will tell."

-

In the meantime, Teyla and Kate were having a similar conversation. Teyla looked through the glass wall of her room and could just make out John and Rodney sitting and talking in the main part of the infirmary. "I am afraid now that the babies are here, John will find it difficult to ignore their heritage," she confided worriedly.

Kate followed her gaze. It hadn't escaped her notice that Sheppard had not chosen to enter Teyla's room and she had no illusions as to why. "He's a compassionate, generous man and he loves you, doesn't he?"

A shy smile touched her lips. "I think so."

Kate snorted. "I know so. You can see it every time he looks at you. Give him the time he needs. He'll come around."

-

Kate managed to catch up with John in the cafeteria line a few days later. "You haven't been to see the babies yet."

"No, not yet," he said, adding an apple to his tray. He had managed to find an excuse not to be in Teyla's room whenever they were present.

"You can't ignore them forever. They are going to be a big part of Teyla's life."

John sighed. "I've tried to go in, you know, to look at them? But I just can't seem to get past the door. I just keep thinking about Sumner, Abrams, Gaul, Everett and the rest. It's…it's still too soon."

"You've had more interaction with the wraith than most people, and almost all of it bad. I can see how it might be difficult for you to look past those experiences," said Kate as she followed him to a corner table. "These babies are not the same. They are part human -- part Teyla, and…"

"Stop pushing," John snapped and then took a calming breath. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm not ready yet."

Kate opened her mouth to say something more.

"I mean it," he said, his anger rising again. "I don't want to discuss this with you any more."

"Alright," said Kate, sadly. "You know where I am if you change your mind."

Sheppard took a large bite of his sandwich and nodded curtly, refusing to make eye contact.

Kate sighed in disappointment and left.