Chapter 39

Sheppard could feel the power of the ZPM coursing through him, giving him control of the entire facility. He'd rescinded the lockdown protocol, giving his friends on the outside access to the underground outpost, so he knew rescue was on its way. His body burned with a multitude of intense spots of pain inflicted by the rivets holding him there. He might not survive this himself, but if the others could drive Akalus out of Mishta, then she might just live.

In front of him, he watched Akalus put the knife to his own throat, threatening Mishta. 'Let me back into the system or I will cut her throat and you will watch her bleed out right here in front of you while you can do nothing to help.'

He had to stall for time. He didn't need much of it.

'No…please…don't. You don't need to do that.'

'No…what I don't need is this host anymore. If you won't let me work, I have no need for a body at all.'

'Okay…' he agreed. 'I can unlock it. But it'll take time.'

Akalus leaned in close, Mishta's face blurring in and out of focus. 'Just so that we're clear. I know you're lying. Do it now or she dies!'

He didn't have time to be tempted by Akalus' threats before they both became aware of noises outside of the chamber…noises that were getting louder. It was the sound of footsteps, rapid, determined. His friends were coming and though he knew this was dangerous for them, he felt sure they would be prepared for battle.

Marmotah was not who he expected or wanted to see at all, although the gun he was brandishing might just be the answer to his prayers.

'Marmotah! Stop!'

Not Lansha! He couldn't be down here. They began to scuffle, as if nothing else was going on around them. Marmotah won out, and was soon levelling the gun Sheppard's way again. 'I told you this was not over, Human.'

Right at that moment, Sheppard didn't give a damn if Marmotah thought this was a victory for him. He'd got no way out of this. If he could shoot a man who had no way of defending himself and see that as something to be proud of, he deserved what was coming through those doors soon.

As if hearing his thoughts, Oolanae hissed, 'They have come.'

Akalus lashed out with the knife slashing Marmotah's chest. The Birajan stumbled back, clutching at his wound as blood oozed between his fingers. He was so shocked he didn't even cry out.

'Lansha…get out…get out now!' Sheppard yelled. But where would he go? There was only one way in and out of this facility and the Wraith were on their way in. His escape route was blocked. Sheppard wished he could get loose and draw attention from him, giving him at least a minor hope of survival.

Lansha turned at the sounds approaching behind him. From the look on his face, he knew who it would be. After a moment of hesitation, he found some well of resolve to dip into and dived for cover, taking his Kheprian weapon with him. It was his only hope of holding out.

The first Wraith emerged from the darkened passageway, her lanky form slinking in and looming into sight like some monstrous creature from a horror movie. She grabbed Marmotah up from where he'd dropped to his knees in the doorway, flinging him aside so that he collided with the wall. The next Wraith was not as lenient, grasping him by his tunic and then slamming her feeding hand hard against his chest. He screamed. The sound brought Sheppard no joy.

'Human! Unlock the door and I will intercede on your behalf,' Oolanae shouted over to him.

Though his instincts told him he couldn't trust a Reliquia, it was hard to imagine a scenario that was worse for him, right now. 'Save Mishta and her brother,' he told her. He figured he was a lost cause anyway.

She held his gaze, then gave a sharp nod of agreement.

Sheppard concentrated, finding the controls to open her cell. When the door slid back Oolanae rushed to her sisters, while Sheppard mentally searched out the controls that would stop any other Wraith coming in.

One of the Wraith now had a hold of Mishta. The chambers vibrated along with Akalus' mounting fury. True to her word, Oolanae tried to intervene.'Tarrantha, take only Akalus,' she begged. 'He will feed you beyond fullness.'

The Wraith, puzzled by her request, turned to Oolanae. 'Why would you ask this of me, Sister? Have you grown soft during your incarceration?'

'The human…he freed me. I promised him this in return,' she explained.

'That is no concern of ours. He will be our next meal.'

Tarrantha thrust her hand against Mishta's chest, latching on to feed. Oolanae begged once more that her sister only take Akalus, but she received a backhand that floored her for her troubles.

Desperate to save his sister, Lansha left his cover and fired on Tarrantha, but he was knocked aside by another Wraith who followed him, determined to finish him. He kept firing on her as she advanced, but nothing slowed her. He didn't stand a chance. These Wraith had clearly fed recently…Sheppard could only hope they hadn't fed on his friends.

Another Wraith closed in on Oolanae now. 'If you are not with us, you are against us, Oolanae. You betray us to favour the Wraith Slayer?'

This whole thing had gone sideways in ways he hadn't imagined. Sheppard reached out to the facility, to find something that could help. But there were no weapons he could employ; the most he could do was shut the light off, and he had a feeling the Wraith could see pretty well in the dark. Outside, more Wraith clawed at the doors, baying to get inside. Two more Wraith had latched onto Mishta, each one now taking their fill of Akalus while Mishta remained intact. But it wouldn't be long before Akalus was drained and all that was left to feed on was her. He couldn't let that happen. He had to do something to save her.

Then he sensed something beyond the facility…it was the puddle jumper, and it was responding. He could control it…and it was armed.

Oolanae's aggressor now grasped her clothes and drew her in closer, hand back in preparation of the strike that would allow her to feed. The Reliquia looked Sheppard's way, as if sensing his eyes on her. He took that moment to try to convey what he was about to do, hoping she would understand. They had struck up an odd kind of friendship while trapped here together. He wished there was another way to end this. The way she looked back at him told him she understood. The nod he received told him she was ready.

As he closed his eyes and concentrated, he took control of the five remaining drones aboard the jumper, commanding them to fire as he bid the facility to open its doors to the Wraith outside them. The last thing he saw was the drones zipping in above the heads of the massing Wraith, exploding in a ball of fire and heat that rushed toward him…

It was dark when Sheppard sprang awake. He was burning hot and desperately in need of a drink, so he crawled out of his shelter and staggered to the nearby stream, scooping up handfuls of cold, refreshing water.

After splashing some of the cooling water onto his face and arms he sat back and enjoyed the sensation of it chilling on his skin in the cold night air. He'd been so hot on waking he'd felt like he was on fire…as if the fireball in his dream had genuinely engulfed him. Except…he wasn't sure that had been a dream. There was a quality to it…a level of reality in the pain and fear…that made him think he might have remembered the events leading up to his memory loss. The names that had sprung to his mind in the dream were fading now…all except one.

A sound behind him made him spin round, ready to defend himself. The huge silhouette looming behind him was instantly recognisable as Ronon. After three days with these people who claimed to be his friends, he was beginning to trust them – even this giant of a man. He'd grown comfortable in their presence and was gathering that their bond had previously been a strong one.

'I'm okay. Go back to bed,' he insisted. But rather than follow his instruction, Ronon just took a pew beside him at the water's edge. 'Nightmare?' he asked.

Sheppard watched the water sparkling in the starlight, thinking about that question. 'Maybe…I'm not sure…' he admitted. It had felt far too real to be only a dream. 'No…I don't think so.'

'So…what then?'

Mishta. It was a name he'd heard mentioned numerous times over the past few days, mostly in whispers when people thought he wasn't listening. Now he had a face to put to the name. But not just a face. An overwhelming wave of emotion rushed up on him at the thought of her and it took everything he'd got not to sob.

'I think I remembered what happened…before I forgot everything.'

It was too dark to see Ronon's expression clearly. He didn't speak, but somehow Sheppard knew he wanted him to continue talking.

'I was in some underground facility…and like Rodney said, I was bolted to a chair - a special chair that controlled things in building…I'm not sure how. I wasn't supposed to be able to, but I took charge of things and opened the doors thinking it would let my friends in…that's you guys, I guess…but something else came instead.'

'The Wraith,' Ronon nodded. 'We couldn't stop 'em. We tried.'

'I know who Mishta is now.' He felt Ronon turn his head to look at him, but couldn't reciprocate. Again, he was battling to stay in control. 'She…' He couldn't put it into words. How could he ever articulate what she had meant to him…what seeing her that way had done to him? The guilt that came with the knowledge he had killed her. 'Akalus and Mishta… they were the same person, right?' was the best he could eventually do.

'Yeah…that bastard possessed her body to get to you.'

'I killed her…Her brother, too.'

Again, Ronon silently regarded him. He passed no judgement, said nothing to make it easier, just listened. And Sheppard figured that was all he needed.

'Those things…the Wraith…they were attacking them. I was dying…they were dying…I wanted to make sure the Wraith went with us.'

'Well, you took out a hell of a lot of 'em,' Ronon confirmed. 'We picked off the ones left outside.'

'Mishta told me to kill Akalus…not matter what it took. I remember that now.'

Ronon fell silent again. Then he stretched a long arm around Sheppard's shoulder and embraced him. 'She would be proud of you.'

The contact almost broke him down; silent and solid, grounding him with his friendship. John had a feeling he would have to face his guilt soon enough, but he wasn't ready to do it yet. He wondered if he would ever be ready to face the fact that he'd killed the woman he loved.

oooOOOooo

The rumour buzzing through the Birajan camp that a small number of Wraith remained alive had proven true, but they didn't last long. Ronon and Juroah, flanked by Hakkar and a troop of Kheprians, despatched the few that remained, those who had piloted the darts on the day of Akalus' downfall. The Wraith were now extinct. Sheppard was certain that no one would mourn them.

Four days later, with that task complete, it was decided that all that was left to do was get the other humans home. Despite their many moves since the downfall of Phylacos, Mehra had kept a list of the various humans who had escaped and from where and when they had been taken. This she now passed to Rodney, who, along with the Kheprians, began to plot their quickest timetable to have everyone returned just after they had gone missing, that way avoiding the risk of any complicated paradox effects.

Sheppard mostly helped with collecting supplies to take on the Kheprian vessel. It was likely to take a couple of weeks to get everyone home, so they had to ensure they didn't run out of provisions before that was done.

The afternoon before the morning they were due to leave, Juroah came to sit beside Sheppard at a quiet spot he had picked in the shade of the Kheprian ship. For a moment or two he said nothing, but Sheppard could tell he had something on his mind.

Eventually, he put it into words. 'I know you feel badly about what happened, Human, but you shouldn't.'

Sheppard, now refitted with a translation device pressed his lips together as he struggled to control his reaction, feeling the tell-tale prick of tears. He'd been battling to hold them back since his nightmare…his memory of the events that had taken Mishta from him…but every time he allowed thoughts of her in, he felt overwhelmed all over again. Their final moments had been so far from anything either one of them would have wanted that he felt cheated…cheated of the happiness they both deserved.

'It took real courage to do what you did. The others have explained to me that you would have had no idea that you would be saved. You were willing to give your life to end their torment…to save them from a Wraith feeding.'

'I didn't save them…I spared them. They're still dead.'

He felt Juroah shift a little, perhaps uncomfortable at the strength of his response. 'If I had been in their position, with the Wraith about to drain me dry, I would see the instant death you gave them as being saved.'

Sheppard closed his eyes as the memory of that fireball rushing toward him filled his mind. It had been a week since his 'death' and miraculous return, but there had been no sign of Mishta or Lansha in that time. It wasn't fair. Why did he get a second chance when they didn't?

'You have to know, that in the few weeks she knew you, you made Mishta happier than she'd ever been in her life.'

'Stop…' he choked. 'Please.'

'I cannot, Human. Mishta would want you to know how she felt, and since she has no voice of her own, it is up to me to say it on her behalf.'

'But I never got to…' He couldn't finish, his voice catching in his throat again.

Juroah grasped his shoulder to steady him. 'If you think Mishta didn't know how you felt about her, you are very much mistaken. Nothing got past her. She probably knew well before you did.'

That brought a smile to Sheppard's face. He'd remembered so much about her in the past few days. He thought of all the times she had flirted with him and he had rebuffed her advances. But she'd never given up on him because she'd known what was in his heart. He missed her…so much.

'Here. You should have this.' Juroah passed him a shallow metal box with a hinged lid. 'Look inside.'

It wasn't a just a box, but a photograph of Mishta…a live photograph with just a few seconds of movement. She was laughing…radiant in the sunlight. It simultaneously took his breath away and broke his heart. One moment…if he could just have one more moment to hold her and tell her that he loved her. He'd wasted so many opportunities with her. He snapped the lid shut and just held it, waiting for the wave of pain to wash over him and calm again.

'I know you cannot look at it for long just now,' Juroah said softly. 'But the time will come when it brings you comfort…maybe even some happiness.'

Sheppard nodded, holding it together as he slipped the box into the pocket of the jacket Juroah had given him. Lansha's jacket. His memories of Lansha weren't as strong just yet. But he knew he had been a good friend through some very turbulent times.

Juroah rose now and extended his hand. 'I am going to return to the rebel camp now, John, so I'll say goodbye. I'll take Tamrak with me, so don't worry about him. I wish you a good journey. Perhaps one day the Kheprians will bring you to visit…when it is less painful for you.'

Sheppard accepted the outstretched hand and shook it, surprised by the human gesture. He supposed Mishta's father had taught it to him. 'Thanks, Juroah…for everything.'

'You are most welcome,' he smiled. 'You have done more for us than you can ever understand.'

Sheppard watched him walk away, his hand slipping to the solid weight in the pocket over his heart. He'd thought he would never see Mishta's face again, and now he could look on it any time he wanted to. It was too soon to appreciate the gift now, but he knew Juroah was right, and that one day it would mean more than anything to him.

Just as she had.

oooOOOooo

By the time they had returned all the humans to where they needed to be and they were approaching Atlantis, Sheppard had remembered almost everything about his former life. The most recent surprise he'd been dealt was finding out that his father had passed two years prior when he had mentioned visiting his family and perhaps making peace with him. He'd felt a pang of sadness that he couldn't fix things between them, but Ronon had told him things were now amicable with his brother, so at least that was something.

Explaining where they had been and why they were approaching the city on an alien ship took some serious expounding. Woolsey, guarded as ever, had only agreed to allow the ship to dock once he had asked a series of questions he felt only Sheppard and his team would know. That was when one or two more holes in his memory had shown up, but since the others were able to answer all their questions satisfactorily and make Woolsey understand what Sheppard had been through, he agreed they could enter the city...under an armed guard. Sheppard didn't mind. He would have done exactly the same thing in Woolsey's position.

Seeing Atlantis for real, not just the fragmented memories that had popped into his head from time to time, brought a lot more feelings and memories back into the light. The sense of connection…of belonging…was so strong he wondered how he had managed for so long without it. This was home…not Earth.

And then came the obligatory trip to the infirmary, from which he was the one who got the cleanest bill of health out of all of them, and yet somehow managed to land a twenty-four hour stay for observation anyway. All he really wanted to do was go curl up in his room alone and switch off for a while. It felt like he'd just been through the longest posting of his life and then some. His brain needed to just tune everything out for a while and chill. Of course, he knew that wouldn't happen. When he wasn't occupied, his thoughts drifted to only one thing. He made sure the medical staff left the picture box on the stand beside his bed when they took away his clothes, and insisted they launder those and bring them back to him. He was certain they didn't look like much, but they were Lansha's clothes…and though a little tenuous, it was another link back to Mishta.

Kanaan had met them at the door to the infirmary holding Torren, whom Teyla had snatched up greedily to smother in kisses while going through her post mission check-up. Seeing them together and so happy made Sheppard's sense of loss feel just that little bit more bearable. Mission accomplished. That reunion had been his driving force through the darkest of days on Gragoffa. He had to wonder what would keep him going now.

Considering everything they'd been through, the rest of his team and Mehra were all declared physically fit, even though three of them were in need of a few good meals to gain some of the weight they'd lost in Phylacos. Keller had paid particular attention to Teyla's scars and the implant in Ronon's temple, which, with the help of McKay and Zelenka, they had managed to switch off and remove safely.

After that, the others were all allowed to retire to their own quarters with instructions that there would be a briefing session tomorrow afternoon once Sheppard had been released. He tried not to feel jealous as they all wished him well and departed, each no doubt keen to divest themselves of the filth and tattered clothes that spoke of their trials. Sheppard tried not to feel jealous of the joy they each experienced being back with their special someone. But when all he had of Mishta was a photograph, it was hard not to feel that the universe was somehow conspiring to leave him a lonely old man.

He hadn't looked at the picture since Juroah had given it to him over two weeks ago, and he stared at the box on his stand for a long time, thinking about it. This was a bad day for him. Everything he and Mishta had worked towards was done now. So, somehow, he was now supposed to simply get back on with his life here on Atlantis. And he would. He had to. What else did he have?

He picked up the box and held it in both hands in his lap on top of the bedclothes. Maybe now was a good time to look at it again.

'Hey, what you got there?' Keller asked, bursting through his solitary contemplation with her customary vivacity. 'Some hi-tech future thingy?'

'Uh…it's nothing,' he lied, putting it back on the stand.

A flicker of a frown crossed her brow as she glanced at it, but she thankfully dropped the subject. 'So, how're you feeling, Colonel?'

'Fine. Like you said, I'm one hundred percent healthy.'

'Physically healthy,' she clarified. 'I said one hundred percent physically healthy.'

'Right,' he said more quietly, knitting his hands in his lap. 'What's he been telling you?'

She was checking his file by now, and flicked her gaze up to meet his. 'Hmm?'

'Rodney. What's he been saying?'

She lowered the file and tilted her head, her expression dripping with the kind of pity he hated to see directed at him. 'Just that you've been to hell and back over the past seven and a half months.' She huffed out a laugh. 'That feels so weird to say. For us, it's only been a few days.'

For him, it felt like a lifetime.

'I know you're fit, and I have to say, I have never seen you in better shape, but Rodney told me what you had to do…before you ascended…and that kind of thing has to leave a scar…mentally, I mean.'

'Sacrifice is part of the job,' he shrugged, like it was all in a day's work.

'This went over and above, and every member of your team knows it…Mehra, too.'

He stared at her, wondering what it was she wanted him to say. Yes, he'd gone above and beyond, but that was something he'd always been prepared to do. Military life wasn't exactly a nine to five number. You didn't always clock off when your hours were done. And sometimes things got real messy and you wished you could just quit. Then you remembered why you signed up, and you stopped feeling sorry for yourself and you did what needed to be done.

'I'm kind of t—.'

'Rodney told me about Mishta.'

And there it was, the real reason she was mother-henning around him. He sighed. 'I figured he had.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'Why? You didn't kill her!' That had come out a lot more forcefully than he'd intended, betraying the thing that was eating at him most.

'You know…it's okay to admit you're hurting.'

He chewed his lip and averted his gaze to the box for just a moment. 'Okay…I'm hurting.'

Keller fell silent. He knew he was making this incredibly awkward for her, but he really didn't want to talk about it. He would deal with this his own way, and that did not include having a heart to heart with his teammate's fiancée. 'All I'm gonna say is that Anne Reynolds is a great psychologist and if you ever need to get anything off your chest, there are worse people you could talk to.'

Reynolds had taken over the head-shrinking gig since their return from San Francisco Bay. He'd heard great things about her, but that didn't mean he was about to go lay all of his crap bare to a woman he barely knew. 'I'll think about it,' he lied.

'That's all I ask,' she smiled. 'So, how about I get you some more food, because don't think it escaped my notice that Rodney ate half of your last meal while he chewed your ear off earlier. It's kind of a habit of his. I don't think he even knows he does it.'

'Well, he's got some missing meals to make up for,' he quipped, avoiding her question.

'I dunno, I think he's looking rather svelte and athletic,' she replied, fluttering her lashes.

He squinted at her. 'Admit it…you prefer him cuddly.'

She couldn't stop a smile from breaking out. 'That's true…I do. I'll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't eat everyone else's extra rations too, though.' She stared at him a moment or two longer, sadness creeping back into her expression. 'Well, I'll arrange that food and leave you in peace. But if you need anything at all, you call for one of us, okay?'

'I will,' he promised, even though he knew he wouldn't.

As she departed, he looked at the box again and thought about picking it up, eventually deciding against it. Teer had said that things happened the way they were meant to happen, and Keller had walked in just as he was about to open the box. Maybe he wasn't ready to look at the picture just yet. He'd give it a day or two more and see how he felt then.

oooOOOooo

Lost.

That was how he felt. Like nothing meant anything anymore. Even that sense of belonging he'd wrapped himself in on arrival had dispersed and was now nothing but a vague sensation at the back of his mind, barely registering.

Sheppard sat through the debriefing, giving his report, listening to his team give theirs.

Going through the motions.

Doing what was required.

The box sat in his breast pocket, next to his heart, but still he hadn't dared to look at her picture. He was holding it together like he was supposed to, but that one act would undoubtedly cause the veneer to fall away and reveal the gaping cracks beneath.

It wasn't that he couldn't do his job anymore. He could do that, just as he always had. But the joy was gone. He felt removed from everything, as if he were mentally always one step away from where he needed to be. But he could talk about what had happened, take the emotions out and report the facts, and that was all Woolsey required of him for now.

He listened to Rodney's suggestions that they shouldn't dose the Reliquiae with the serum, and that they search for Akalus in their current time and disperse him for good, but when he'd finished Sheppard merely quoted Teer. Those future events could not be changed. The universe would find a way to make it all happen. Rodney hadn't liked the thought that this was confirmation of the predestination theory, mostly due to its religious connotations back on Earth, but when Sheppard had couched it as based in the powers of universal forces, he had begrudgingly agreed that it was a possibility.

Sheppard supposed it really didn't matter. They could do whatever they wanted, and if Teer was right, everything that was important…the key moments…would all still occur. There would be collateral damage along the way, lesser players might fall by the wayside. But if something was meant to be, it would be. Akalus would try and fail. The Reliquiae would rise and fall. Mishta would die.

He realised as he listened to everyone debate their best way forward that his hand had drifted to his pocket and rested there. A subconscious acknowledgement that if Mishta and he were meant to be together, she would not have died in that facility when he'd blown the crap out of it. If they were meant to be, she would have returned with him. It seemed she'd played her part and the universe was done with her now. She'd been thrown aside like so much garbage. That didn't sit well with him.

At the end of the meeting, Keller recommended that he and his team be given one month of leave due to the duration of their imprisonment. She'd said it was particularly to give Teyla time with her son, but he knew that it was also done for his benefit, to give him time to grieve without admitting that was what he was doing. He had mixed feelings her instruction. He knew it was still early days in the grief cycle, but having nothing to do just gave him more time to think about it.

He honestly didn't want to think about it at all.

oooOOOooo

Over the next two weeks, Sheppard decided to make the most of his rude health and immerse himself in a new exercise regimen. More running, more sparring, even an occasional trip to a particularly beautiful stretch of coast on New Athos to catch some waves. One of his team always tried to be with him, but after a while they couldn't keep up with his pace while sparing time for their own interests and relationships. So sometimes he exercised alone. And that was okay. The picture travelled with him wherever he was, and whatever he was doing. But he still didn't look at it, content just to know it was there. His constant companion.

One early morning run saw him circling the lesser visited parts of the city, where he took a breather on a pier with a fantastic view of the ocean. In the distance he could see coastline hazed in blue – one of the more mountainous regions of the planet. He considered checking them out while he was on his break. Perhaps going for a hike. The clear air and solitude might do him some good.

The gentle breeze and the sound of the waves rippling against the pier had an almost hypnotic quality, and he found his mind drifting to thoughts of Mishta…more specifically, the first time they had kissed once she'd kicked Marmotah into touch. A glow warmed through him at the memory, the sensations of her touches so vivid he almost felt as if he could gather her up into his arms. But no, as his concentration broke, he found himself alone again, the picture box in his hands. He didn't even remember taking it from his pocket he'd been so wrapped up in the memory. She'd felt so close…

He flicked the lid open without a second thought and gazed on the image of her smiling face, laughing and tucking some stray tendrils of her red locks behind her ear. He'd seen her do that so many times, an unconscious movement on her part but one he'd unknowingly grown incredibly fond of. He closed his eyes again and allowed the sound of the ocean and the sensation of the breeze on his skin to carry him away. And for just a moment, he thought he could feel her around him…but the instant he became conscious of the sensation she was gone again.

He snapped the picture shut as he let himself feel the pain, dropping to his knees and then sitting back on his heels as he let the grief charge into him at full-pelt and engulf him. He had to do this to move on, but he'd been so dreading facing the pain…the vulnerability…that he'd been pushing it away and ignoring it since the day he'd first remember what had happened in the facility. Now, he embraced it. It was all he had left of her. And at least it was more than the numbness he'd been living with in the weeks since he'd remembered what he'd done.

He didn't move from that spot for a very long time.

oooOOOooo

That evening, Teyla was relaxing with a glass of wine and a novel called Wuthering Heights that Jennifer had loaned to her. Apparently, it had been a favourite of hers since her youth, and she'd thought Teyla would appreciate it. She was several chapters in and wondering just why anyone would love Catherine Linton since she was so utterly churlish and childish when the chime of her door sounded.

Kanaan had taken Torren for an evening stroll, something they did regularly now to give her some quiet time to gather her thoughts. There were many feelings and experiences from her time in Phylacos that she still felt she needed to process and work through, and this hour of alone time gave her space to do that in whatever way took her mood. Tonight had been a treat night for her, and she was reluctant at first to answer the door, considering instead pretending that she was unavailable so she could enjoy her wine in peace. But a nagging voice in her head told her it was important and she should open it, so she slipped her bookmark in to save her page and did so.

She found John already leaving, having almost fallen for her ruse. 'John!' she called after him. 'I am sorry I did not answer right away. I was…indisposed.'

'That's okay,' he shrugged, remaining at a distance. 'I needed to ask you a favour, but if you're busy I can come back another time.'

'No…I am not busy at all,' she insisted, stepping out to take his arm and guide him toward her quarters. 'Besides, there is always time for friends.'

Although she felt slight resistance at first, he followed along, and she was soon ushering him to the couch and offering him some wine, which he declined. She knew he was more of a beer drinker and wished she had some to offer him to put him at ease. She couldn't keep the smile from her face as she watched him expectantly. John hadn't called on her or any of the rest of the team since their return from Gragoffa, and had been mostly resistant to their attempts to involve him in their recreational pursuits. The only time they saw him was when they caught him working out in some way. He looked well, no doubt due to all the extra exercise he'd taken up, but at the same time he looked tired. She wondered if he was not sleeping well.

'So, what can I do for you?' she asked, encouraging him to speak.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a sure sign he was uncomfortable and already regretting his decision to approach her. It was one of his tells she had learned over the years.

'I…uh...' He laughed, an embarrassed little huff as if he thought what he had to say was too silly to be bothering her with.

'Yes?' she pressed, hoping to keep him talking.

He suddenly squared up his shoulders and looked her directly in the eye. 'I wondered if you could teach me to meditate.'

Teyla knew her face had betrayed her surprise before she'd had a chance to control her reaction.

He instantly retracted the request. 'You're right. It's a dumb idea.'

He was about to stand, but she caught his arm and applied enough gentle pressure to insist that he stay. 'I did not say that. I am merely surprised that you would ask. I actually think it is a wonderful idea.'

'You do?'

She nodded emphatically. 'I have meditated for most of my life. It is a great aid in steadying the mind and body in times of trouble or discontent.'

'Yeah…I've never really been into it. I only know the few things I looked up that time I was trying to help Rodney ascend, but I never put any of it into practice myself.'

'I can show you some basic techniques now, if you would like? It will not take long, and then you can practice wherever you feel most comfortable,' she suggested.

He met her gaze, an unexpected eagerness dancing in his eyes. 'Uh…yeah…that'd be good. If you have the time.'

'Kanaan and Torren won't be back for half an hour at least,' she told him. 'It won't take longer than that for our first session. Tell me, what is it you are trying to achieve?'

His expression instantly changed, and she sensed his guard rise. 'Why do you need to know that?'

'I am sorry, John. I do not mean to pry. It is just that there are different methods we can employ depending on the outcome you desire.'

He held her gaze a moment before dropping his gaze to his shoes. He was dressed casually – jeans, a t-shirt, trainers – yet he did not seem comfortable. She doubted it was the clothes that were the issue though. A sense of great sadness seemed to fill the space between them…a space that felt wider than it ever had since their very first meeting…his choice, not hers. She had respected that choice, because it was his to make while he dealt with the aftermath of the terrible occurrences in Akalus' facility, but she dearly hoped this was the beginning of a reconciliation for them all.

Eventually, he took a deep breath and began to explain. 'When I ascended, Teer told me that death is just another part of the journey through life, and that Mishta wasn't really gone. She told me that she was all around me, and that if I tried, I could find her…' His eyes lifted to hers now, reflecting so much of the pain he had kept hidden from them that she felt sure her heart would break for him. 'I need to find her…I need to talk to her…and I don't know any other way to do it.'

For a moment, she didn't know what to do or say. He looked so fragile she feared anything she did would simply break him. In the end, her instincts took over. She shifted closer and threw her arms around his neck pulling him into the tightest hug she had ever given anyone. 'Teer would not lie to you. I will help you find her. We will not stop trying until we do.'

He folded into her embrace, burying his face to hide the tears she knew he was shedding. She hoped this was the beginning of a much-needed healing process…one she would willingly guide him through, no matter how much it hurt her to witness his grief.

A/N: Our poor boy's really going through it. Let's hope he finds a way back to his old self soon. Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing. It makes the work worthwhile.