Author's Notes: The return of the missing fanfiction writer! Okay, I wasn't so much missing as taking a little detour for a while. After Christmas, I wrote a short story for the A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones board, and that's available on my profile page for anyone interested. It was fun to do something different for a change, but I heartily admit I missed you guys. So glad to be back writing SGA!

And for this installment, a quick reminder - in this AU, the Season Four arc played out somewhat differently than in the canon, starting with the fact that Teyla was not pregnant with Torren at the time (see previous story for details). So when reading this chapter, be aware that John and Todd haven't seen each other since teaming up to defeat the Replicators in Be All My Sins Remember'd. There is some stuff from The Kindred, Part 1 in hereto help me account for the changes, but not much.

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Chapter 35 -The Return

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John led his team into the overgrown ruin with his P-90 at the ready. Broken down stone pillars had long since been swallowed by flora, covered in moss and the shriveled leavings of dead vines that hadn't gotten enough sun through the canopy of trees. Cracked stone formed walls along the moderate slope of the landscape, almost leading them along. The ruins were too sparse for a village. They were more likely the skeletal remains of an outpost or way station of some kind. Or it had been a few centuries ago, anyway. Rubble surrounded the shell of what was once probably a lookout tower. It was oriented in the direction of the Stargate, though John doubted anyone would be able to see it anymore. An entire forest had grown up between the two.

Not far off, a solitary figure with white hair clad in black body armor waited next to a stone monolith.

"Nice place for an ambush," John called out. As they closed the final distance, Ronon pulled ahead and took point, his blaster poised and his tanned leather duster sweeping behind him.

"The thought had not occurred to me," Todd said.

"Sure, it didn't. Ronon."

As Ronon neared, the Wraith lifted his arms and held his hands out to the side, palms open. "I am unarmed."

"Naturally, you won't mind if we check anyway," John said.

Todd regarded Ronon with disdain. "Naturally."

While Ronon searched Todd for weapons, John kept his eyes and ears peeled for signs of trouble, even wary of the slight breeze. Rodney hovered near his elbow with his tablet running a scan and, at John's four o'clock, Mason had already begun to scout the perimeter of the immediate area. "Where are your friends?" John asked.

"I did not think they would be of any great use," Todd said as Ronon patted him down with more force than was strictly necessary. "Each time we meet I seem to wind up a prisoner. I merely thought I might save us all some time." The impact of one of Ronon's hands jounced the Wraith enough to force him to steady himself. Todd's upper lip twitched in response, letting loose a throaty hiss and a hint of bared teeth in Ronon's direction. His pale yellow eyes traveled toward John. "Is this how you treat all who come to you with an offer of information?"

"Nope, it's pretty much just you."

The corner of Todd's mouth ticked upward to form a predatory smile as though he found a queer sort of honor in the distinction.

"He's clean." Ronon's tone was gruff and plainly disappointed. Sporting a staunch black stare, he backed toward John's position.

"McKay, are you reading anything we need to worry about?"

"You mean like a Hive ship floating about a mile over our heads?" Rodney tossed a cagey glance toward the heavens. "Not yet, but there's no telling how long that will last."

"Anything else that'll lead to us getting blown to kingdom come?"

Rodney sounded faintly distrustful of his own assessment. "Not that I can see."

John cast an investigative glance toward Mason, who took one last look around the immediate area and then, frowning, signaled the all clear. This was too easy and they all knew it. "You know, when we got finished with the Replicators and you didn't show up at the rendezvous point, I was kind of hoping you were dead," said John.

The Wraith chuckled, a gnarled rumbling sound. "I'm afraid I had other matters to attend to. But fear not, John Sheppard, there is always next time."

"It's good you keep a positive attitude, but we'll see if you survive this time first." John pulled on the charging handle of his P-90, causing the resonant metallic click of a round being chambered. "So, now that you've got us here, what do you want? And spare me the part where you try to convince me that you've got no bottom line, because I don't have all day and you're not really the type to give away something for free."

"Very well." Todd peered at each of the men in turn, almost catlike in the way he bent and stretched his neck, but with all the warmth of a spider. "Yet again, it seems someone has begun targeting human worlds."

"So, logically, you come running to us," Rodney snapped.

"It is something you have made your problem in the past. What cause would I have to assume this time would be any different? Unless, you had some part to play in it."

John ignored the accusation. Todd was obviously just trying to rile them up. "Let me guess: you ran across a spoiled batch of humans and some of your Wraith pals dropped dead."

Todd's eyes narrowed. "You are aware of this?"

"We've been checking into it," John answered with a sly smirk at having his theory all but confirmed. He'd suspected that Todd's sudden desire to meet might have something to do with Michael. The timing was a little too coincidental to be sheer happenstance. What were the odds Todd would show up around the same time they were investigating a widespread outbreak of a virus derived from the original Hoffan drug and the two had nothing to do with each other? But it was gratifying to find out he'd been on the right track.

The Wraith took another calculating glance at him. "Indeed, many of my fellow Wraith have fallen victim to this attack."

"Shame they didn't get more of you," Ronon said.

Todd's unappealing grin returned, a brief, menacing spark in his expression making it appear as if the imposing Wraith was wondering how Ronon would taste. John bet Ronon looked pretty appetizing to a Wraith, especially one who'd been forced to watch his diet lately. But as Ronon was the only one between them with a weapon in his hand, Todd could daydream all he wanted; one false move and he was dead. The only question was whether Ronon would beat John to it.

"What makes you think we can help?" Rodney asked pugnaciously. "I would think you'd be out looking for the guy responsible."

"If only it were that simple, Dr. McKay." From the irritation in Todd's bearing, John got the impression Todd had been trying to run down Michael and thus far had come up as empty as they had. "I have isolated the viral agent responsible and traced its origins. I am aware you had a hand in helping the Hoffans refine the original form of this virus. I require whatever research you possess in order that I may synthesize a cure."

John stifled the urge to laugh. "I think the better question here is: what makes you think we would want to help you? To be honest, the idea of a bunch of Wraith coming up with a fatal case of indigestion doesn't really bother me."

Todd glared at him. "The Replicators did enough harm to our already dwindling food supply. All of the existing Wraith factions have been adversely affected by this."

"Yeah, it's a shame. But it's not really our problem."

"From what we have been able to surmise," Todd reasoned, "this blow against us has been delivered at great cost to human lives. With my help, think of all those you might save."

"Only to be fed on later," said Ronon.

Unworried, Todd spun to meet his accusation with an imperious smile. "Wraith are not so indiscriminate with the lives we take. The continued loss of human lives at this rate would spell the end of Wraith and human alike."

While Ronon's hatred for the Wraith had never been in doubt, thanks to recent events, John was aware it had also never been closer to the surface. Ronon's expression burned with malice. "Only because you're murdering the survivors."

"They are poison."

Ronon stepped forward until they were almost nose to nose. "They're people."

"In this case, the two are no different," Todd said with a scornful sneer, holding his ground.

John intervened at the sound of Ronon's blaster cycling up. "Hang on, Ronon. Let's hear him out. He must be pretty desperate to come unarmed and without backup."

Todd released a quiet huff, clearly annoyed at the accuracy of John's statement, and John waited coolly for the Wraith to concede that the balance of power was in his favor for the time being. Todd's compliance wouldn't come easily, however. He would never trust his life to John's sense of goodwill. He had something up his sleeve, something compelling enough for him to believe that John wouldn't simply kill him this time.

After long moments, Todd said, "I had anticipated your reluctance. I will stipulate that the cure would be for my hive - and my hive alone."

John's mouth pulled tightly at the corners. Mason continued to silently stalk the perimeter, anticipating the trouble they all knew was coming and had them all on edge. The sooner they wrapped this up and got back to Atlantis, the better. "And what are you offering in exchange?" John asked.

"In exchange for the information I require, I will give you the identity of the individual responsible for dispersing the plague."

This time John did laugh, short and final. "Nice try, but we're way ahead of you on that one." Clutching the grip of his weapon, John whirled and said to his teammates, "We're done here."

"John Sheppard, wait," Todd said with urgency.

Against his better judgment, John halted.

"I have something else which may be of interest to you."

John turned to face him, wearing an impatient scowl. "Let's hear it."

Todd held his steel gaze and then moved his hand to the underside of his upper right arm. He slipped something out from what appeared to be a hidden compartment in the dense material of his body armor. He turned whatever it was between his fingers and held it out for John to take. It was a yellow data chip with six sides, no bigger or wider than a quarter, yet Ronon seemed pretty pissed off he hadn't found it in his earlier search.

John held it up. "What's this?"

"My second offer," Todd said with a keen sense of purpose and a shrewd grin.

With cautious interest, John handed the translucent chip over to McKay. "Can you read it?"

Rodney laid it out on the face of his tablet, which he held so it lay flat in the crook of his arm. He positioned it precisely in the center of the monitor and pressed a series of keys. A program activated that scanned the surface of the chip, and after viewing the results, Rodney recalibrated his tablet to adjust to the given Wraith specs.

A digital image popped up on the side panel of the screen and Rodney's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

"What is it, McKay?" John asked.

The scientist held out the tablet so he could see for himself. "It's a ZedPM."

Todd looked smug. "Do I have your attention now?"

Teyla's eyebrows knit in concentration as she read from the tablet Mr. Woolsey had given her, a tray of forgotten food lying on the mess hall table in front of her. She moved the screen with a touch of her index finger and diligently perused the mission briefs for the upcoming week, making notes where needed. There was a continuation of talks with the Filosians on the schedule, but Capt. Thorne's team had been assigned to it rather than Maj. Santiago's, who had been the ones to open talks in the first place. She highlighted it and recommended Santiago's team be reassigned to continue what they had begun. Like the mines they were famed for, the Filosians were a rough, hard people, and if Maj. Santiago had managed to earn their consideration, it was best to take advantage of it while they could.

Teyla was so engrossed in the job at hand she only looked up from her reading when her stomach shifted. Nausea set in, subtle yet pervasive, reminding her that pregnancy and missed meals were not a desirable combination. She had already pushed the definition of breakfast time to its limits, and if she waited much longer to eat, her stomach was prepared to respond—with prejudice.

Teyla took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly to dampen the queasiness. Before her, she had a plate of scrambled eggs, a pair of sausage links, and a slice of buttered toast. She reached for the toast first, knowing the dryness of it would settle her stomach relatively quickly. After a few bites, she added a small portion of her eggs to the top and nibbled silently while her attention drifted back down to the tablet.

A few minutes later, Teyla noticed someone's approach out of the corner of her eye and glanced up. Caught with a mouthful, she was unable to greet David before he sat across from her. "I just heard that John left. To meet some Wraith?"

Teyla swallowed in a hurry and put down the remainder of her toast, concerned that he seemed upset. "Yes. He and the others left quite early this morning." It had been so early she only remembered a soft kiss in the dark and a whispered farewell.

"And that doesn't bother you?" he asked.

Teyla thought that an unusual question at first, then she further considered David's previous experience when it came to dealing with the demands of his brother's chosen profession. John rarely spoke of his former wife, but Teyla knew enough of their marriage to know that his career and the abrupt and often prolonged absences it entailed had been a pivotal issue between the two of them. During their most recent trip to Earth, David had mentioned receiving many tearful and angry phone calls from Nancy, confiding in him that she didn't know what to do anymore. She was tired of all the secrets and tired of being left alone. Teyla imagined it would have been quite frustrating for David to have no better idea of what John was doing than Nancy did, to witness his brother's marriage slowly crumble without the ability to change the outcome.

It was thoughtful of him to be concerned about her feelings.

"John is often called away at unusual hours. The planets we visit are quite commonly on a different orbit than Atlantis, so our departures must account for the time difference, and emergencies will occur irrespective of the hour," she said. She reached across the table and, with a reassuring smile, squeezed the top of his hand. "John goes where he is needed and it is important that he does so. He will return soon."

In mute defiance of her words, a niggling worry fluttered inside, mirroring David's continued worried frown. She hoped his return would be sooner rather than later.

"And what about this Wraith? John calls him Todd?"

"What about him?" she asked.

"Every report I've ever read about the Wraith says they aren't to be trusted even in the best of situations, but this one calls and John answers. Frankly …" David paused, his face pulled into a mask of deep thought. "Frankly, I don't see how he can do that knowing this particular Wraith has … fed on him."

Teyla lowered her eyes. When it came to Todd, she preferred to focus on the fact that Todd had restored John's life and not the horrific sight of him draining it away. The mere thought of John as one of the many shriveled corpses she had seen over the course of her lifetime, permanently contorted in a tortured pose, was almost enough to make her ill. "John does what he must," she said simply.

However, David didn't seem satisfied with her response. "But can he be trusted?"

Teyla thought carefully for a moment, finding it difficult to articulate the nature of Todd's current association with both John and Atlantis as a whole. "We … use him," she finally said. It was a mildly repugnant notion, but it befitted the situation. "And he uses us as he can to his own benefit. There have been instances when our goals have aligned and a truce has been made. But no, we cannot trust him. In that he is no different than any other Wraith."

David grew quiet, his posture stiff as his fingers lightly drummed the tabletop. Then, after a few stretched minutes, he looked over her scarcely touched meal and sighed. "I'm sorry, Teyla. I didn't mean to bother you with this. It's just …"

He didn't finish, but Teyla understood perfectly. He was concerned about John's safety as well. As two who cared deeply for John, they had that in common. That and the bond created by her unspoken commitment to John, cemented by the child she carried. They were family.

"How are you finding the city so far?" she asked in effort to sway the prevailing mood. Their lives were such that worry could consume all else if permitted and there was no sense in worrying just yet. "Has everyone been accommodating?"

David smiled a little. "Most, though I don't think Dr. Tratovsky likes me very much. I asked for the geology department's most recent inventory and got a cold stare worthy of Siberia."

Teyla laughed softly, picturing the spindly scientist's unkempt mane of gray hair and scrunched features glaring out from behind his glasses while he muttered in his native Russian. "He has been appealing to Mr. Woolsey about new equipment for nearly six months. There are those that say he has grown rather desperate over the matter."

"Interesting. I'll keep that in mind when I take a look at his reports." David scrubbed his chin in exaggerated thought and then dropped his hand with an understated chuckle. It was a pleasure to watch the troubled expression begin to melt away. David and John were certainly brothers; the two men shared the same engaging smile. "I hope I'll get the chance to look around the city more," David continued. "There's something about this place. I'm not really sure what it is."

"I believe John has a similar fascination. Sometimes when we are out walking together, he will simply stop and it is like he is listening to the city. He says, when it is quiet, it is almost as if Atlantis is talking to him."

"Do you think it is?"

Teyla smiled. "With the many things I have seen in the years I have lived here, I have learned that there is much I do not know and more I may never know. But anything is possible."

She passed a fond glance toward her lap and the swell of her stomach. Her daughter was perhaps the greatest mystery of her life. Perhaps, with her father's gene, her unborn daughter could already hear what Teyla herself could not. Teyla hoped so. To be able to listen and begin to see inside the makings of the renowned city would be a magical experience indeed, and she wished only a lifetime of magic for her baby.

Starting to eat again, Teyla asked David if he had been able to explore some of what his ATA gene allowed him in Atlantis. He replied by saying that Dr. Beckett was already eager to have him undergo some tests. Teyla nodded along; doubtless, Carson would get his way as David's interest in exploring his gene seemed keen as well. Teyla wondered if the strength of David's gene would match John's.

They went on to discuss what she was working on for Mr. Woolsey and the intricate game of trade they played with some of their allies. The Filosians, for example, had ore and heavy metals at their disposal that were needed by the Cattans, who provided Atlantis with a portion of their crop to sustain the expeditions need for fresh fruits and vegetables between supply shipments from Earth. They were often the first thing they ran out of, because they had a much shorter storage period than other foods and already spent a great portion of that time in the refrigeration unit on the Daedalus while in transit. As a long standing feud between the Filosians and Cattans had both parties refusing to sit down for talks, Teyla was hoping Atlantis would be able to facilitate a satisfactory exchange for all.

David was impressed at the resourcefulness of the idea, and she admitted to him that engineering the process had helped her feel that she could still be useful, since she was no longer physically able to go on missions.

She was enjoying the conversation when a deep cold struck her heart.

She froze, eyes wide as she gasped, feeling it leech out to her fingertips and down to her toes, a spreading glacier that threatened to swallow her in a prison of ice.

Across from her, David's attitude of ease suddenly shifted. "Teyla, are you alright?"

Certain he could see the discomfort on her face, Teyla tried to school her reaction as she realized she had felt this sensation before countless times. Only …

"Yes. " She gazed at his dark features, breathless but rapidly regaining control. "John has returned."

His brow furrowed. "What? How do you know?"

Teyla swallowed and said calmly, "There is a Wraith in the city."