Sheppard could feel the sweat drenching his body. The effort was massive, but slowly, and surely, he felt the planet move –
"Well done," said Avitus.
Their bodies were in the home, but they weren't with their bodies. Despite being elsewhere, there was still a part of him able to visualize and feel what his body felt.
Sheppard grunted, and with a last mental shove, returned the planet to its original location.
The mental line snapped and twanged, and he opened his eyes – he'd returned to his body. Beside him, Avitus sat up, and reached for him. The old man's hand slid underneath John's back, and persistently guided his exhausted pupil upright.
Once Avitus was convinced Sheppard was staying up, he removed his support, and stood, walking over to the food receptacle.
John watched the Ancient move. He knew Avitus was old, but he also knew appearances could be deceiving. Avitus was an Ancient, and he had the ability to revert to an ascended state in the same way that Chaya did.
He didn't say anything, just watched. Avitus came back to him bearing a cup. John took it eagerly. He was drained, mentally and physically. The effort involved had been probably more than he was capable. He was surprised that he was even alive after that accomplishment, and he couldn't help but experience a thin shiver of fear for what he'd done.
He'd told Teyla that he was changed – that he was a freak. Never before had he felt it so utterly. He was different. The power frightened him. How could he trust that he wouldn't inadvertently destroy others? How could he ensure that, even acting with good intentions, he didn't act in a manner that cost innocent lives?
What was he? Human? Sheppard stared at the dregs of the drink at the bottom of the container. He wasn't human anymore. Ancient? He frowned at the cup. He wasn't Ancient either. He was something different, something new, and he was scared…
…because he could feel the time for the confrontation was approaching. He looked up, and found Avitus watching him. The Ancients face was impassive. He wasn't often readable. John had tried, but failed repeatedly, yet he could sense…
"If you knew my intent was to confront you, why have you been teaching me?" asked John quietly, finally voicing that which had been bothering him since they'd arrived.
Avitus took the cup from John, and set it on a nearby table, returning to the couch. He pulled his robe to the front, and settled down beside Sheppard. He paused, regarding Sheppard with a patient smile that reminded John of a tolerant parent.
"Does the wind seed the forests, as well as tear them down?"
John looked away, found a blemish on the floor, and focused on it. He considered Avitus' words. Finally, he spoke, "Then you will try to tear me down?"
Avitus clasped his hands in his lap, and studied them as if it were John's mind held between the wrinkled palms. "Sometimes, the greatest lesson to be learned is when the pupil tries to defeat the master."
"So it's meant to be my final lesson?" Sheppard's mouth twisted in a sour line. "What if I win?"
"That is a chance I am willing to take."
"Why do I get the feeling you've planned all of this from the beginning?"
Avitus inclined his head a small amount, and John saw the Ancients mouth curl slightly. Avitus released his hands from his lap, and stood up. "You should rest. When the time is here, you will need it."
Sheppard couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, the Ancient was evil in his delusions of grandeur. He wanted to rid the universe of the Wraith, but in doing so he'd given himself over to the insanity of righteousness. Dark now, but not always had the old man been. Goodness was corruptible, and therein was a danger that John skirted.
He would act with the intent to save lives – certain of the righteousness of his actions, but would the defeat of Avitus corrupt him? Would he become dark, stained by the death of the Ancient?
He tried to shake off the philosophical ramblings in his mind. He felt, not saw, Avitus's soft hands propelling him back into a horizontal position. Felt his legs being moved onto the couch once again, and his eyes drifted shut.
For now, all he must do was rest. Sleep…tomorrow would come, regardless of his thoughts, and worries.
oOo
McKay adjusted the machine again. It blipped and then faded. Angrily, he did something he would rarely do, and that was hit the machine hard with the bottom of his fist. It whistled plaintively, but the blip returned, and this time stayed.
"Got you!" he crowed.
He'd been trying to fine-tune the output for days, yet finally he had achieved his goal. Now the time was here to find Elizabeth, and tell her what he needed to do…
oOo
Avitus came for Sheppard as he slept. At first, it was a soft, gentle nudge against his dreaming thought; then, more persistent, and hard. Gradually, John woke to a screaming pain in his mind and he knew it had begun…
Sheppard focused on space, and found himself there. Avitus had followed him. John bent his thought toward the Ancient, and he saw in his mind the old man floating backward, hurled away from his location.
Then, it was Sheppard's turn to feel the blow. He knew he wasn't here physically, yet he felt his body suffer the stunning shock of a blow that would've snapped every bone in his body had he been present.
His teeth clattered, and he fought to stop the tumbling motion that caused his stomach to rise in this throat.
John sought the essence of Avitus, for he knew he couldn't bring about the Ancients death by attacking the body. It had to be his mind- his soul. He felt the insidious slide of the tainted mind, and he slipped in, quickly and with dark intent.
He was repulsed by a strong surge of anger, hate and desire. Avitus had a stronger mind than John had reckoned for, but he knew instinctively that it was the way it was meant to be. He could not have known, anymore than he could've turned from this path.
As he fought to seek the source; the essence of Avitus's life and soul, fought to do murder – John felt in turn the Ancient seeking his own. John knew the victor would be the one to break through first. Knew also, that he must, because if he failed, he'd be nothing more than a husk, held in slave to the dark Ancients desires for domination and death.
He felt the invasion in his mind like oily fingers slipping through his soul, parts of it dripping between the cracks. He cried out, and fought with renewed vigor. His sight grew dim, and he knew Avitus was closer, but so was he. He let the Ancient believe he was winning, all the while he crept closer – quietly, and with the precision of a surgical laser beam.
Just as he knew he was about to fall, Sheppard reached out, and with mental fist, pounded against Avitus. He felt the old man react. The fingers pulled back in rage and terror, and for a moment that seemed to stretch across eternity, the old man loosed thoughts of regret and betrayal.
A final sentence echoed in Sheppard's mind.
"The pupil is greater than the master -"
And the universe blinked.
oOo
McKay followed the blip…and found Sheppard. But Sheppard wasn't breathing. Rodney shouted for Beckett, shouted for help that he prayed wasn't too late…
oOo
"He's dying, Rodney." Beckett's face was twisted with sorrow, and the pain of feeling useless.
McKay stared in shock at Beckett. He stumbled back, bumped the major's bed, and didn't even seem to notice. "But you said -"
Beckett stopped him from saying anything further. "I know what I said. It isna anything I can stop." Beckett was pale with fatigue. He'd been up working on Sheppard for the past sixteen hours straight. Each time they'd get one system stable, the next would fail. Heart, lung, kidneys – his body was acting like it'd forgot how to live.
"There's got to be something…"
"If there is, I wish someone would tell me."
McKay shook his head. "No," he stated emphatically, pushing himself away from Sheppard's bed. "I don't believe it."
Beckett watched McKay storm out of the room, and sighed. "Believing or no," and he turned back and watched the figure on the bed, covered in wires, "it won't change the outcome."
The only answer was the sound of the ventilator, artificially breathing a facsimile of life into the dying man.
oOo
McKay was wondering the halls. It was night in Atlantis, and most members had found their beds, but not him – and not the people closet to Sheppard.
He knew there was a steady parade of friends saying their final goodbyes. Elizabeth had called and told him the decision had been made to remove life support. That they were giving up, and letting the major go, but McKay refused. He hoped in some way that his refusal would keep them from doing it. From taking the final, irreversible step while he searched desperately for an answer.
He felt, deep in his gut, that there was an answer. He just needed time…
…and then he realized where his feet had taken him. He was in the console room. Where it'd all began. He stared at the panel glowing harmlessly in the dark, and the answer hit him so hard he was surprised his brain didn't leak out his ears.
He knew how to save Sheppard! He turned, and headed towards the infirmary at a dead run, praying he wasn't too late…
…he broke through the doorway, hardly waiting to clear the door. He saw Beckett flipping a last switch…saw the monitor registering a flat line.
"Oh god," he breathed. "Turn it on!" he shouted desperately. "Turn it back on! I know how to save him!"
Beckett frowned, opening his mouth to tell McKay there was nothing to be done, but McKay had turned his attention on Elizabeth.
"Please, trust me. I can save him."
Elizabeth's mouth worked against her emotions. The need to trust him, but the logic that Sheppard was already dead.
McKay fought to catch his breath. He pierced Elizabeth with desperation. "If he dies, it'll be on your head," he said, his voice breaking. To have the answer, to be so close –
Elizabeth's lips firmed into a decision. She turned to face Carson, "Do it."
Beckett didn't protest. He began flipping the switches, and shouting for a shot of adrenalin. "Now, quick!" he snapped at the nurses hesitating.
Everyone waited on tenterhooks, before the room filled with a soft, rhythmic beeping signaling the major's body was functioning again. Once Beckett was satisfied with the readings, he turned to McKay. "You better be right, Rodney, because if I brought his body back to life only to have to send it back to the dead -"
"I'm right," snapped McKay. He turned to Elizabeth. "The city, Elizabeth. Atlantis will save him!"
Despite the skeptical faces, Sheppard was put on a portable life support system, and wheeled to the console room. There, McKay took Sheppard's hand, and holding it with his own covering the major's, placed it flat against the inviting panel…
…sleep. He'd been sleeping for too long. His mind stirred. What had woke him?
A stroke of familiarity in his mind. A surge of warmth, and welcome, and a call to come back home…
And Sheppard responded. He called back, stretching his mind to twine with the other consciousness, and he sensed another presence. He reached towards it, as well.
Elizabeth and Beckett saw McKay stiffen, his eyes going wide.
"Rodney!" shouted Weir, moving to pull him back.
Beckett stopped her. She looked at him, worried lines etching new furrows in her forehead. "Something's wrong!"
"I don't think so," he answered quietly.
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. And waited.
McKay? Sheppard knew that mind from the moment he felt contact. Strong, brash, arrogant – and familiar, reassuring, caring...
Why are you here?
He felt Atlantis running through his body, felt systems restored, and struggled to take a breath on his own.
Beckett, seeing the major fighting the vent tube, quickly withdrew it. He watched as Sheppard breathed on his own for the first time since they'd rescued him.
Elizabeth swallowed back the emotion. Something was happening – Rodney had been right.
John felt the answer reverberate through his body.
To save you.
And then Sheppard felt a lulling pull in his veins, singing him to sleep – to rest…