He dreamed and yet it felt different than most dreams. He saw things, images that were familiar yet unknown to him and with the images came feelings of joy and sorrow and pain and fury. The emotions tangled up inside of John, weaving through him and over him, making him feel confused and sick and uncertain. So he tried to focus on the images. They were fuzzy at first but eventually they sharpened and he tried to reach out to them, to touch them as if they were real, one hand groping blindly until he connected...

John's body shuddered as a scream was ripped from his throat. He was in agony, it was searing his body, his mind and his soul and it was relentless, cutting into him, pouring through his veins, seeping into his mind.

"MAJOR! GODDAMMIT! WAKE UP!"

He felt himself stop breathing. Felt his awareness jerk back into his body and he choked on it. Felt himself being lifted upright, a hand rubbing over his back, a muttering in his ear...

"...please don't die on me, major. Dr. Weir would kill me...Major?"

"Rodney?" John was reaching out again, forcing his heavy arm to lift away from his body and then he felt a hand closing over his and John sucked in a shuddery breath. Now he was grounded. He peeled open his eyes and blinked up at Rodney's blurry face.

Relief was palpable as Rodney heaved a sigh and shifted Sheppard back against the pillows. "Don't ever do that again!" he snapped, as he started to get up to pace but seemed to realize he was still holding the major's hand. He made a face then sighed again. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "You okay?"

John wasn't sure how to answer that. He didn't feel so good. His entire body ached and he felt hot and there was a throbbing pain in his temples. But then he remembered the dream. "The chamber," John whispered, his throat feeling dry and gritty.

"Wait...let me get you some water." Rodney got up and grabbed a bottle, uncapping it as he returned to the bed.

"Thanks." John accepted it with a shaky hand, needing to use both to hold it steady enough to drink. He nearly fumbled it once he was done and was relieved when Rodney snagged it from him. Clearing his throat, which felt less scratchy, John tried again. "I remember the chamber. It was just...it led to something else."

Rodney sat down, looking intrigued. "Led to what? What do you mean?"

John frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to focus, trying to bring the memories back so he could describe it properly to Rodney. He knew that Rodney would be able to help figure out what had happened to him. "There was a door, hidden behind a tapestry. After I drank the juice...things went fuzzy then Kethen had me by the arm and he took me through the doorway into this…" John broke off and closed his eyes, trying to bring back the image that lingered in his head, taunting him. "It…it was a ship. I think it was a ship."

"A ship?" Rodney sounded excited. "What did it look like?"

"Atlantis."

Rodney blinked. "Atlantis? Oh...um...well...Atlantis is a ship."

John realized he wasn't explaining himself well. "No…I mean...it had consoles and writings like Atlantis. It was a ship, Rodney, I'm sure of it. And there was a room with chambers in it, like the one we found Old Weir in. Stasis chambers."

"With bodies?" Rodney was practically bouncing up and down now.

"No…with ashes." John felt the pain in his temples drift down to the base of his skull and he rubbed the offending area for a moment as he tried to explain what he had seen. "It looked scorched, like it had been burned but different." John huffed a frustrated sigh, knowing that he wasn't describing this properly. "It was huge. Nowhere's near as big as Atlantis...but big. Really big...and…the bridge was like the cockpit of a Puddle Jumper only ten times bigger."

Rodney was watching Sheppard closely, eyes narrowed, curiosity practically vibrating off him in waves. "Did you touch anything while you were there?"

John tried to remember. He tried to envision himself on the ship, retracing his steps. Then he remembered the small room that seemed to be the very center, or core, of the ship. "There was a chair."

"Chair?" Rodney echoed.

"Yes…like the one in Antarctica and the one on Atlantis," John replied. "I sat in it."

Rodney made a face. "You should know better than to do that."

John made a face back at him. "I figured it was dead, Rodney. Nothing lit up while we were in there."

"Then how did you see where you were going?"

"Torches. Kethen had torches." John remembered the flickering light and the heat of the flames puffing against his skin as they walked. Shadows had danced against the walls as they moved from room to room and John remembered thinking at the time that he could almost feel them. Not like a physical touch but something deeper and more ethereal. It was something he had felt inside him.

Rodney touched Sheppard on the arm, drawing his attention back. "What happened when you sat down?"

John shivered as the memory slammed into him. He remembered easing back into the chair and expecting nothing when suddenly his nerve endings felt as if they were on fire and he remembered screaming and then nothing. "It hurt.." he breathed, and he could almost feel that pain now. Then John realized it wasn't pain he was feeling, it was fear. Intense and vibrant, it curled around him, crushing him. He swallowed a whimper and tried to curl into himself.

"Major?" Rodney realized something was wrong. "What is it? Are you all right?"

"Make…it…stop…" John could barely speak. He felt his pulse racing, his heart thudding against his rib cage. He was shaking and felt sick and light-headed and the fear squeezed tighter and he forgot how to breathe.

Rodney panicked right along with him. "Shit…oh shit!" He grabbed his radio and tapped it on. "CARSON…I NEED YOU ASAP!" Rodney shouted, even though he didn't need to shout to be heard.

John heard Rodney as if from a distance. Heard him mumbling his name then something that sounded like directions. Then hands were touching him and John flinched away, kicking off the blanket and scrabbling off the bed. He searched the room, frantically, looking for a place to hide. He sought the closest corner and stuffed himself into it, legs drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, face buried in his knees as he tried to stop shaking. He heard the ragged sound of his own breathing and felt himself graying out, but John feared losing consciousness. He tried to cling to it and suddenly there was a feeling of peace but it was so weak and so far that he couldn't reach it. Couldn't draw it to him. The sound of his own breathing was too loud and John cupped his ears and tried to ignore it. But it got louder and louder and then there were other sounds and there was motion around him and he felt as if he were trapped on a tilt a whirl and he couldn't get off.

He heard other voices, felt other movement. Something touched him and John tried to bolt but he was trapped in the corner and there was something blocking him, touching him, then there was coldness seeping into his veins and the gray sound turned to black.

He heard Rodney say his name and John's eyes flew open. He started to sit up but a hand pressed into his chest, holding him still. He didn't feel panicked but he felt confused and then he recognized his surroundings. The infirmary. And it was Beckett's hand holding him back. John almost felt relieved. "Guess you found us," he said softly, as he slumped back into the pillows.

"Rodney called me," Carson explained. "You wigged out on him and given your fever and all he was afraid you might die. Which...well...you might have, to be honest. You were pretty sick for a bit."

That made John frown. "How long was I out?"

Carson glanced at his watch. "About 28 hours. You were in an out at times. And just so you know, Rodney told us about the chamber and what you saw."

"So...you think I'm crazy, right?" John wasn't going to pretend this wasn't happening, nor was he going to deny what he had told Rodney. He knew it had been real.

"No…I don't think you're crazy. But I do think that whatever happened to you happened on that...ship." Carson began taking Sheppard's vitals as he continued. "Rodney's with Dr. Weir trying to convince her to let you go back with your team, and me tagging along, so we can find out what did happen and find a way to help you."

Sheppard felt relief wash over him and he didn't try to hide it. "Think Rodney will get Weir to agree?"

Carson nodded. "I do. She wants to help you."

"I want to help me too," John replied, going for a teasing note but realizing he had failed, miserably. He lifted a hand to rub at his gritty eyes and took note of the IV taped to the back. "I hate these things."

"Aye…I know you do. But you need it."

John knew that. "When can I get out of here?"

Carson made a face as he considered. "Maybe tonight. And if Weir okays it, we'll go tomorrow."

"Really?" John was surprised he'd be allowed to return so soon. Beckett was like a mother hen at times.

"I think you'll get better quicker the sooner we know what ails you," Carson stated. "Get some rest for now. I'll check on you later."

John nodded then closed his eyes. For the first time since this whole thing had started, he felt like everything might be okay. That he would be okay.

Nearly two days passed before Rodney was able to convince Weir to let them return to the planet. To be fair, she held off, in part, due to John's condition. His fever spiked at one point and Beckett wasn't going to let him go anywhere until his temp was back to normal. Which it finally…basically…was. John felt a lot better than he expected too, better than he knew Beckett expected him too, as he walked up to the gate with the good doctor by his side. John smiled at Elizabeth when he reached her.

She smiled back. "You look eager to step through the gate, Major."

"I am," John allowed. "I want to know what the hell happened to me."

"Are we ready?" It was Rodney who asked as he made his way over to them. He was juggling a backpack and a scanner. He looked up to steady Sheppard. "You look better."

John grinned. "Feel better, thank you." He then turned to Teyla and Ford, both of who were watching him carefully. He knew they were concerned for his well being. John nodded at them, reassuringly, then he turned back to Elizabeth. "Looks like the gang's all here," he announced.

She nodded. "So it does. Be safe," she beseeched before waving a hand to the tech at the control console. "Dial the gate!"

"Wish me luck," John found himself whispering to her, as they event Horizon formed in front of him.

"Good luck," Elizabeth replied, with deep sincerity.

John expelled a nervous breath then he eyed his team for a moment. He knew they were ready to follow him to hell and back if necessary. He was pretty sure it wouldn't be this time. But he was anxious to be on his way. "Let's do this," John called out, then he stepped through the gate.