Evelyn POV

I blinked awake, finding myself warm and heavily medicated. Beckett had turned the volume down on my heart rate monitor so I could sleep, now he was pretty sure I was fine, and the lights were very dim. I felt an arm beside mine and could hear very familiar snores nearby. I smiled to myself, letting my head lul to the side to see the messy haired man waiting at my bedside. I picked up my heavy arm and ran my hand down his, lacing my fingers with his over the back of his hand. He groaned and then looked up, grinning when he saw me awake. I moved my hand off of his and he sat up properly, scooting his chair closer to my bedside.

"Hey there," he said and I waved. "Feeling alright?"

"Ah, good timing," Beckett said from the doorway, I rolled my head over to see him and he smiled at me. "Are you in any pain?"

"No," I smiled. "I suspect you had something to do with that."

"I did," he agreed. "You cracked your ribs again. Seems you sustained quite a bit of damage in that crash."

"I don't think they were cracked in the crash," I replied. "I was bruised but fine right up until I had the bright idea to escape."

"Hey, I was the one who encouraged you. Don't blame yourself for what happened," Sheppard scolded and I shook my head.

"No, I knew something felt off, should have listened to my gut," I replied. "It's over, regardless."

"You seem to be recovering very nicely, regardless," Carson told me. "Although I wish if you and John wanted to see me you'd just invite me for a pint rather than getting yourselves put in here."

"You're just so irresistible," I told him and he chuckled, scanning my chart.

"Alright, I'll leave you two to it," he told me. "Are you hungry?"

"Thirsty," I told him and he nodded, moving a tray table with a jug of water and a glass over to me. He poured it for me and stuck a bendy straw in it, leaving me and John to talk. I sat up a little more, leaning forward to take a sip of the icy cold water.

"O'Neill," John sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the bed.

"Evelyn," I told him, pulling a page from his book. I thought we were friends enough now, if I could call him by his first name he could at least use mine. He smiled softly.

"Alright, Evelyn," he said, putting his head in his hands for a moment. "I want to apologise for what happened on this mission. What Torrell did and I wasn't able to stop it.."

"John that's not on you," I told him sympathetically. He ignored me and I slid my hand up one of his forearms and gripped his hand. "I'm serious John."

"I'm supposed to be your CO," he told me. "It's my job to keep you safe."

"I know," I nodded. "We do all that we can to protect those we're in charge of, I always did. But we can't control the actions of others no matter how badly we want to. Especially the actions of convicted criminals on a convict island with nothing to lose."

"I know it's just.."

"John," I scolded. "I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't mine. It just happened. And I'm okay. I still trust you with my life, I already know what you're willing to do to keep others safe. You've saved my life before and I know if I needed you to again you would."

"I would," he agreed. "I'm always gonna have your back."

The heavy medication the doc had me on for pain relief had me out again pretty soon but John stayed with me until then and regularly visited me everyday after. As did McKay but that was mostly under the guise of looking over his research. I smiled every time he handed me the tablet and treated it very seriously, even though I knew he was here because he also felt partially responsible for my ribs.

Beckett discharged me and I headed to the lab, and instead of working on my arm and the power project I'd started, I was inspired by an idea I'd had. I sketched out plans, reading up on how making such a thing would be possible and how I could make it small enough it would be included in standard gear so no one would be caught without one.

"What're you working on?" McKay asked, scurrying over and peeking over my shoulder. I smiled and moved away slightly to show him. He hummed thoughtfully. "Why?"

"I just.." I sighed. "I'm still thinking about that dive over the cliff I took a couple months ago. I'm not like, scarred or anything by it, but... it would be useful, don't you think? A better breathing apparatus? I mean half the city is still flooded."

"No, I think it's a good idea, and when you put it like that it sounds like a priority," he replied. "Consider this," he said and grabbed the pen, redrawing a mechanism I was designing and I hummed. "You like that, huh?"

"It's gonna make it so much smaller and easier to use," I complimented. "Thanks McKay."

"Rodney," he told me. "I think we've been friends long enough you can call me by my first name. We are friends… right?"

"Yeah," I shoved his shoulder. "We're friends."

"Have you been cleared for active duty?" he asked and I shook my head. "We're checking out another planet in the Ancient database. I think this one's gonna be really cool. I'll tell you about it when we get back."

"Tell me if it's exciting, I don't want to hear any long boring stories about unevolved societies," I told him and he laughed.

"Guess I can't tell you any stories about my time on Earth then," he joked and I laughed, hard. And for the first time in a while, it didn't hurt.

I was sitting sketching in the mess hours later when I heard the clunk of metal tray being placed down in front of me and I put my pen down, looking up and smiling at my company. He smiled warmly back and sat down. I picked up my coffee cup and took a sip, moving it to the side so he had plenty of space for his dinner.

"You seen much of McKay since we got back?" John asked and I shook my head. "We found an Ancient outpost in the Doranda system. He's off with Radek because of some physics weapon."

"Weaponised physics?" I laughed. "We just make a military man of McKay yet."

"That'd be the day," John said. "How are you doing now you're out of the medbay?"

"I laughed earlier today, didn't hurt, I'd say that's progress," I said, half joking. "Honestly I'm fine, I've been thinking about going to see Heightmeyer though.."

"Because of what happened?" John asked, concern spilling over his features.

"The crash actually.." I replied, looking down at my coffee cup and tracing the rim with my index finger. "I thought I was over it honestly.. guess all I had to do was crash again."

"Of course," he nodded. "I've been in a few combat related crashes, getting back on the horse always helped but I imagine in your situation, that wasn't possible."

"Yeah, plus I always made a habit of not crashing," I said, kicking him lightly under the table.

"Are you really not affected by what happened on Olesia?" Jon asked and I sighed.

"I'm not not affected," I replied. "But it's not something that keeps me up at night, no. I was worried, at the time something might happen but it didn't, and I've spared it no additional thought. We got out, nothing happened. Sure, I cracked a few ribs, but the same thing happened on waterfall planet. Honestly I think I'm more affected by that, I started designing this," I said, pushing my tablet forward.

"And what is this?" he asked.

"So you know how a snorkel works? Or the breathing apparatus when diving?" I asked. "This is the next step. Instead of having to have a pipe to the surface like a snorkel would, or an oxygen tank, this works more like gills."

"Like gills?" he asked.

"You breathe as you normally would but the mask filters out the water so all you get is oxygen. I'm trying to make it pocket sized," I replied.

"And this was easier than working on your arm, or your other project?" John asked, amused.

"Kind of actually," I said. "With this technology I'm not having to start from scratch, I've got lots of research material to learn from. And in regards to my power project, that's.. that's just a lot."

"Yeah, kind of ambitious of you," he laughed. "Can't say there are many people on this expedition that lack ambition, if I'm honest."

"I think this expedition is high on arrogance, not so much ambition, but you're right," I said. "It's almost ironic, this expedition is so exclusive and secretive they'll never get credit for the advances they make."

"That includes you," he said.

"I'm not here for credit," I shrugged.

"Then why are you here?" he asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"I like any activity that makes my heart beat more than 100 beats per minute," I shrugged. "When I joined up, I wanted to be just like my dad but when I started flying… there's just something so amazing.."

"I know what you mean," he nodded approvingly. "I like anything that goes faster than 200 miles per hour."

I sat with John in the mess till it got late and my timer on my tablet went off, making him laugh that I still set it. He escorted me back to my room, telling me not to expect much from McKay over the next little while, as he was escorting him and a team of scientists back to Doranda tomorrow to play with McKay's new toy.

He was right, however, because the next time I saw John was the next night at dinner and McKay had been in a different lab with Zelenka since their return. I made my decision on seeing Heightmeyer who seemed unsurprised to see me, but, like John, was surprised at the reasoning. Or at least until I went into further details about my original crash. Unlike every other therapist I'd spoken to, she was very understanding, even told me she was proud of me for coming to her as soon as I felt something was wrong. We booked some follow up appointments and I felt a little lighter when I left.

I spent the next few days eating and spending time with John when he was available and working on my invention. I was getting ready to build a prototype, one I'd have liked to show McKay before I tested, but I couldn't deny him if this new project of his was really important. I didn't see McKay at all when he and team went back to run tests on the Ancient's physics weapon and when I next saw Sheppard after the tests he'd told me there had been an accident. Apparently Collins was fatally wounded by a hard radiation blast and McKay wasn't taking it well.

"You wanna go for a beer after this?" Sheppard asked as I pushed the remainder of my food around my tray. I looked up, raising a brow. "You know, if you're not busy doing science-y stuff.."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Yeah, sounds like fun."

Clearing our tabel, Sheppard escorted me back to his quarters. I stepped over the threshold and walked into what was like a teenager's room. There was a poster of Johnny Cash behind the bed, a surfboard beside it and a skateboard propped up nearby. The door closed behind me and Sheppard went to a mini-fridge while I made my way around the bed to the windows. I'd never get tired of the view here. Although admittedly his was much nicer than mine.

"I never get tired of looking out over the city," Sheppard told me and I smiled.

"I'd just been thinking something similar," I told him and he handed me a beer. "I think it's a pilot thing. You get used to seeing the world from unimaginable heights."

"Explains why I like ferris wheels so much," he said and I let out a light laugh, cracking the can one handed.

"So you do know how to take things slow," I said.

"Hey, I might like things that go over 200 miles per hour but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate life at a leisurely pace," he said. I put the can to my lips, moving to gaze up at him, instead of the view. He reached up to tuck a loose lock of my hair behind my ear when the doorbell rang and he sighed. It went off again and he put his can down on the table by his bedside.

"Hang on, I gotta get this," he said and I nodded. He walked towards the door and I made my way over to his sitting area and crossed my legs under me. I rested the can on my knee and waited out of view for him to finish up with whoever was at the door.

"Harry K Daghlian," I heard McKay say as soon as Sheppard opened the door.

"Who?"

"He was a scientist. Worked on the Manhattan Project at Los Alamos. He was only 26 years old. Accidentally irradiated himself while performing a critical mass experiment on two half-spheres of plutonium. It took him a month to die, and while his body was slowly shutting down from radiation poisoning, you know what he did with his last thirty days? Hmm? He worked. He tried until his last breath to understand what had happened to him so that others could learn from the tragedy. So that his work, his death wouldn't be rendered meaningless," McKay said and I frowned. He really was beating himself up about what happened to Collins, just like John had said. "Now, have you considered what would've happened if they'd just shut the project down after that?"

"This is different," John said softly.

"Is it? Collins' death is a pointless waste of life unless something comes of this, and I'm not sure that I can...I think I know what happened," McKay said.

"Let's hear it," John motioned for him to continue.

"Can I come in?" McKay asked and I held my breath.

"No," John told him and I thanked my lucky stars.

There wasn't anything written that I couldn't be here, I just didn't want it to be the talk of the base. John and I were friends, that was no secret, but it came down to assumptions. He was a man and I was a woman, the world still didn't think the two could be friends without anything more and I wasn't ready for the whole of Atlantis to think I was sleeping with my CO.

"The Ancients had it wrong. Our mistake was using their equations. Look, I just did the calculations again myself. I did them three times just to be sure, and I am positive the problem is in the automatic containment protocols," McKay explained and I wanted to scoff. Yes, the Ancients were the ones who were wrong.

"Okay, what's your fix?" John asked him.

"I'm proposing that we adjust the field strength manually," McKay replied.

"You saw how fast it spiked on you," Sheppard argued.

"So we don't operate the generator at anywhere near its potential. Look, there's no need to be greedy. Even operating at fifty percent, it'll still generate the power of a dozen Zed PMS," McKay explained, still sounding kinda arrogant.

"How come the Ancients didn't figure this out?" Sheppard asked.

"Maybe they were caught up in the heat of battle, or maybe they thought they needed as much power as they could get. Maybe they weren't smart enough," McKay said and I almost scoffed. There was that classic McKay arrogance.

"And you are?" Sheppard asked.

"No, I didn't say that, but I have the benefit of hindsight, they didn't," he explained. McKay also possessed significantly more time to get this to work.

"Best case scenario?" John asked him.

"I win a Nobel Prize," McKay said cheerily. I could see the smile on the side of John's face.

"Worst case scenario?" John asked.

"We tear a hole in the fabric of the universe," he replied and John's face immediately turned to annoyance and alarm. "Which is much less likely to happen than the Nobel Prize. I mean, look, the risks are nothing compared to the potential benefits. Elizabeth will listen to you. I've never asked this of you before, but I think I've earned it. Trust me," McKay said. I saw John sigh and look down at the ground, thinking for a moment.

"I'll speak to her first thing," he said. "I'm not making any promises, if Weir says no, that's it. But I'll speak to her. I'll try."

"Perfect," Rodney beamed and John shut the door in his face. He walked back over and slumped down in the opposing chair, stopping only to grab his beer which he'd left by his bed. I smiled softly at him.

"So, you amped to get sucked into a tear in the fabric of the universe?" I asked and he sighed.

"He's pulled us out of some no win scenarios before, even a few weeks ago. If he's that confident, if he's asking me to trust him, maybe I should help him," John replied.

"Well, for one thing, you already said you would," I started, leaning my palm on my knee, beer just beside it. "But also remember, Rodney isn't one to admit his mistakes, and he's unlikely to see where he potentially could make one. He may very well do this, but you need to be mindful, someone might have to save him from himself. He also rarely listens to reason."

"I know," John sighed. "God I know."

"What would you do without me, huh?" I joked. He looked taken aback. "If I wasn't here having a beer with you, who would you talk this out with?" I explained myself and he laughed.

"This wasn't exactly how I imagined tonight going," he said. "Guess we can thank Rodney for that."

"Oh? And how did you imagine tonight going?" I quirked a brow mischievously. He shook his head, taking a sip of his beer.

"I've been around long enough to spot a trap when I see one, Evelyn," John told me and I laughed, hard.

I went to see Heightmeyer again and spoke to her about my designs and if she thought the only reason I was making my underwater mask was because of the near death experience I'd had in the water which of course just meant she asked me if that's what I thought. It did make me think about how it was the closest I'd felt to death since my accident.

"What do you mean by that?" Heightmeyer asked. I leaned back against the white chair in her office, feeling the plush back support my weight.

"The fighting, the exhaustion and then the acceptance. Giving up, I was so tired, out of that situation sometimes I'm annoyed I was ready to give in."

Hearing my gun click I realised I was out of amo in this too. Dropping it to the floor, I pulled my knife from my back, I had to find some place to slash it. There must have been a reason all my shooting at it did nothing, save for the eyes. It was vulnerable in the eye, the skin was too rough. What could I do? Whatever I did, it had to be quick, I was running out of time. I was almost out of air. My lungs burned. That was it. I needed air, and so did Nessie.

I took my knife and stabbed into its neck, right into the yellow green gills. It let out a roar and I stumbled back, blinking slowly. I had to get back to the surface. I wavered in the water. I opened my mouth, releasing the rest of the air causing my chest to ache. I was tired. I let go of the knife. I did my best, but Nessie was better.

"It's natural in those kinds of situations to feel that way," Heightmeyer told me. "The same way it's natural in hindsight to know you were going to be okay, and feel negatively about how you reacted. But you need to remember, you didn't have the knowledge you do now. You didn't know Colonel Sheppard was going to get to you in time, to give you CPR. As far as you knew you had no air left and you couldn't fight anymore. You shouldn't blame yourself for succumbing to the feeling. Not many people can find peace in those scenarios, you're lucky, Evelyn."

"The grass is always greener I suppose," I said. "I just wish I was like the people who were defiant till the end. It happened again on Olesia. When the Wraith Cruiser was overhead, I just stayed on my knees. Everyone else around me picked up and ran, the rest of my team went inside the Jumper, desperate for McKay to pull off a miracle but I just.. I just sat there."

"Tell me about the Blackhawk crash," she said and I soured. I didn't like to think about it.

Radios were out, I couldn't get ahold of anyone who was inside the chopper, let alone get assistance. I cursed myself, how could I have messed this up? Now my lieutenant was done for, I was sure of it. I was done for. I coughed, the thick smoke from the fire was burning my lungs and it got harder and harder to breath. Flames licked at my skin and the metal piece pinning my left arm to the floor got hotter and hotter as time went on.

My eyes stung. All I could see was red and smoke, I couldn't even see out the smashed windows anymore as darkness billowed around me in clouds. I didn't think I'd be getting out of this one. This wasn't something I could depend on my dad to save me for, I couldn't fly by by the seat of my ass. I was really screwed with this one. I rested my head softly against the hot metal floor, it'd be over soon, at least. I hoped I suffocated, instead of burning. At least the former might be less painful. On the other hand, the latter would be quicker.

My eyes grew heavy, every breath was shallow and my lungs were crying out for some fresh air, but there would be none, not anymore. It had been my day off, I should have stayed on base. But then, if I did, my lieutenant might still have gotten shot down. At least we were together.

Which was more than I could say for Charlie. I'd promised to be with him, instead I ditched him for the mall, and I'd paid the ultimate price. He'd paid the price. He just wanted to play heroes, if I'd have stayed, maybe he wouldn't have gone looking. This was my comeuppance. He'd been alone, now I would be.

I couldn't hear anything but the fire, I had no way of knowing if the others got out. God, I hoped they did, I prayed they weren't trapped like me. I was done for, but they didn't have to be. I closed my eyes. I felt so heavy, so tired. I could barely feel the uncomfortable stickiness of my sweat, or the burning pain in my lungs and throat. My arm didn't hurt anymore. It was over. It was over.

"Charlie, your younger brother?" Heightmeyer asked.

"Yeah, first thing I was ever sure of in my life. When he was born I knew I wanted to be the best big sister in the world," I explained. "Funny how quickly that changed when I was a teenager."

"What happened to him, Evelyn?" she asked me, shifting in her seat slightly. I ran my hand over my face.

"I was supposed to be hanging out with him. I promised him I would. Dad was out of town again, our mom was busy. She was home but she had stuff to do, I was 15, what did I have to do? All he wanted was to play at being in the Air Force, like dad. But my friend called and said everyone was going to the mall. He was my little brother, I just figured I could play with him whenever, how often was I going to get to hang at the mall with my friends? So while mom was doing housework and I was ditching for the mall, Charlie was left to amuse himself. He got a hold of my dad's gun and accidentally shot himself. I told my dad it wasn't his fault, that it was a tragic accident and he shouldn't blame himself for what happened, I just haven't quite gotten around to following that same advice," I explained.

"I see," Heightmeyer hummed. "Perhaps this is all grief related."

"What, you think death is the only place I can get close enough to letting it go?" I asked.

"Not exactly," she told me. "When you're experiencing near death situations you're letting go of everything, you become accepting of whatever is coming. Maybe that's because you know you don't have to carry what you have been anymore. Maybe instead of acceptance, you're feeling relief."

"So do you think if I'm able to come to terms with what happened to Charlie, I'll get my fight back? I'll stop giving in?" I asked.

"Perhaps," Heightmeyer replied.