John felt stronger. He had slept deeply, without dreaming, and had awakened to find that the pain was little more than a tingling at the edges of his nerve endings. There but muted and nothing that he could not handle. He even had an appetite to speak of and managed to drink another mug of Athosian soup, as well as munching his way through a few slices of toast. Or what passed for toast on Atlantis.

After breakfast John was ready for a shower and to walk around a bit. Which Beckett allowed him to do. Only his legs gave out rather quickly and he was sent back to bed. But after pouting for ten minutes, Beckett revealed a secret. They had brought a wheel chair from Earth and he brought it out. John wasn't thrilled about it, but agreed to sit in it after Rodney appeared and offered to wheel him around Atlantis.

"Can we go outside?" John asked him. He wanted to feel the sun and fresh air on his face . And he wanted to see the water. He missed the water.

"Sure...outside is good." Rodney headed for the nearest balcony.

John could feel the grin that split his face as the balcony doors opened. He let Rodney push him over to the railing, then he locked the wheels himself and stood up.

Rodney looked panicked. "You're supposed to stay in the chair. Carson was very adamant about that."

"Since when do I ever do as I'm told, Rodney." John teased. He didn't care what Beckett wanted. It felt wonderful to be outside and to be on his feet. To walk to the railing and lean over it, staring at the silvery water as the warm sun touched his skin. It seeped inside him, chasing away the cold. But not the pain, John realized, for it prickled beneath his skin. It wouldn't go away so easily, but he didn't care. He felt free and alive in this moment and he embraced it.

"It's good to have you back," Rodney said quietly.

John started at his words and turned to face him. He could see the sincerity shining from Rodney's eyes. "It's good to be back." John meant it in every way. "I missed this. All of this." John gestured about, to encompass Atlantis as a whole. "I missed you too, Rodney."

Rodney made a face at him. "Yeah? Can't live without your daily dose of snarkage?"

"You keep me on my toes."

"I live for that," Rodney deadpanned. And when John laughed out loud, a smile lit up Rodney's face. But it faded fast. "Um...do you want to talk? I mean...about what happened?"

John turned back to stare out at the water. He knew what Rodney was trying to do, but he wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to face his demons. It was hard enough just to live with them. "I don't want to talk," he whispered. "I just want to breathe for a while." It had been so long since he could inhale a breath without his chest burning.

Rodney moved to stand beside him. "Breathing is good."

"Yeah...it is." John fell silent and he was glad when Rodney allowed it. He closed his eyes and just let himself feel and he lost track of how long he stood there. But the pain was not content to let him be free. John tried to ignore the way it slithered through his veins, leeching away the warmth from his skin, from his soul. He didn't realize how sneaky it had become until his knees buckled and strong hands caught him and suddenly he was sitting in the wheel chair and when John blinked he brought Rodney's concerned face into focus.

"One to ten?" Rodney asked, his eyes roving over Sheppard's face.

John bit his lip and had to concentrate. If he let himself breath lightly, matching the rhythm of the pain, he could make it dance to his own whim, at least for a little while. "Six...it's a six," he whispered.

Rodney stared at him then shook his head, clearly not believing him. "Time to go back."

"No!" John gripped Rodney's forearm, fingers digging into the firm flesh. The pain wasn't spiking yet, but it was cresting into a cold wave and John shivered a bit. He wasn't ready, but he had to be. He was stronger now, he could be stronger. Kolya was dead and it wasn't supposed to hurt anymore. "Please...Rodney...I want to stay here just for a little while. Please." John could beg when he had to and he was feeling desperate now.

"John...you need to be careful." Rodney's tone had an underlying current of desperation that matched Sheppard's own. "We should go back."

He knew they should but he wanted just a few more minutes to feel warm. "It's still six...Rodney. Please." All too soon the cold would chip away at him, breaking him down shattered piece by shattered piece.

Rodney nodded. "Just a minute...that's all."

"A minute is good." John managed a brittle smile. He could feel himself rocking and it soothed him, even though the pain rocked with him. "Do you miss home?" John asked the question without meaning too. But he had wondered.

"Sometimes." Rodney looked surprised but answered without hesitation. "Do you?"

John shrugged, then grimaced and wrapped his arms around himself. The pain was twisting deeper and he kept rocking. Kolya was still dead and he clung to that memory, using it to shield himself against the worst of the pain. "I don't really have a home...not on Earth."

Rodney stared at him, open-eyed. "Everyone has a home, Major. Even if it's a crappy apartment with a cat for company. I miss my cat."

"I miss my dog." John felt his lips curve into a genuine smile.

"Figured you for a dog person." Rodney smiled back.

John nodded. "Black lab. Named him Flash. I was ten." Not that he needed to be defensive about the name. His father had hated it and at the time, that had been reason enough to insist on it.

Rodney eye's narrowed as he locked them on Sheppard's face. "Dogs don't like me."

"Flash liked everyone...but he was very protective of me." The memory wrapped around John like a blanket, warming him against the icy-cold pain. But the warmth couldn't permeate deep enough. John winced as the pain spike, his fingers curling around the arms of the chair and gripping hard as he rode it out.

"It's eight now...isn't it?" Rodney was panicked. "Shit!" He grabbed for the back of the chair and turned it towards the door.

John took a shuddery breath, letting the burn drift away from him on the soft air. "Seven...just seven," he whispered.

Rodney was running now, panting already as they barreled down the corridor. He didn't speak, he just ran as if the hounds of hell were chasing them.

John let him run. He clutched the arms of the chair and closed his eyes and it was a rush to feel speed again. Nothing like flying but he remembered how it was supposed to feel and he could pretend this was it.

"CARSON!" Rodney bellowed for Beckett as he entered the infirmary and skidded to a halt, gripping Sheppard's shoulder to keep him from tipping out of the chair.

"Major." Carson was there in an instant, kneeling in front of Sheppard.

John opened his eyes. "Not yet," he said softly. "It's not…not eight…" Just a tiny lie and one he felt justified in telling. He wanted to taunt the pain, let it play with him now because soon it would be crushed to creep away, limping, into the shadows. He had earned the right to this little victory. He was finally in control. One little pinprick of heaven instead of hell, the moment he gave the word.

Carson studied Sheppard a moment then nodded. "All right then. But let's get you into bed, shall we?" He nodded at Rodney to help him.

"I can do it." John gritted out the words even as he pushed himself to his feet. But then he was tilting backwards as the chair rolled back.

"God! Sorry!" Rodney grabbed for the chair then for the major. "I forgot the brakes!"

Carson had already caught Sheppard, easing him away from the chair and towards the bed, one arm wrapped around the slender waist.

John heard the anger that Rodney was directing towards himself. "It's okay," he whispered, but he wondered if Rodney could hear him. He couldn't hear himself over the rush of white noise in his ears. The pain was angry at him, lashing out. John felt his knees buckle and silver-gray darkness hazed his vision.

"Rodney...get him into bed!" Carson shouted. He handed Sheppard over then ran for the needle he had prepared earlier.

The silver-gray turned into a white haze and John heard whispers and buzzing and then he felt a ripple of heat under his skin before a rush of soft coolness flooded his veins and it soothed away the burn, freezing it back and the white turned into bursts of purple that shaded into sky blue. John laughed softly as he listened to the pain screaming at him, until only the soft echo danced in his head and it soon faded into silence.

"How are you feeling, John?"

He turned from the railing to find Elizabeth smiling at him. "Oops. You found me."

She smiled back. "I won't tell."

"Thanks." John trusted her not to. "I feel pretty good. As in good enough to go back to work."

"I've spoken with Beckett." Elizabeth moved to stand beside him.

John figured she would have. "It's been almost a week and I've gone two days without taking any hits. Beckett says that it's clearing out of my system."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes...but it will be a while before it's completely out of your bloodstream, John. It's not over yet."

"I know that...but I'm functional now." He didn't want to beg for this, but he knew his eyes were pleading when he looked at her. "Let me do something. I'll even settle for paper work."

"Tell you what. I'll put you on light duty but half days and Beckett keeps you closely monitored."

John felt relief wash over him. "Sounds good for me. So...what exactly does light duty entail?"

Elizabeth chuckled at his expression. "For you it means hanging out with Rodney and touching things. Think you can handle it? He has a pile of objects he needs tested."

"I dunno..." John's tone was light and teasing. Normally he hated being used as a lab rat, but for the chance to get out of the infirmary, he would be willing to do just about anything. "You don't really pay me enough to put up with McKay you know."

"I know." Elizabeth's smile was bright. "It's good to see you smile again, Major."

He nodded. "It's good to smile. You should be glad for the Ancient gene. Beckett thinks that it's the reason you're kicking the habit, so to speak."

John realized that. Teyla had found an Athosian who was addicted to Red Sun and he had been willing to come to Atlantis for testing. Beckett had discovered that John's DNA was truly able to neutralize the drug, but it was a slow process. John had never been big on patience. "I am glad...in some ways," he allowed.

"I have a meeting," Elizabeth stated. "Check in with Beckett and if he clears you...you can start your light duty servitude."

"Thanks." John gave her a mocking salute then watched her go. The moment he was alone again he rolled up his left sleeve and started scratching, digging his nails deep into his skin until he started to bleed. The pain was nothing but a shimmer on the edges of his awareness, but there was an itch inside him that he couldn't scratch. It taunted him, mocking him, and John felt anger flaring up inside him. A white-hot rage that settled over him, making him edgy and restless. It was just one more battle to be fought and won. Or so the little voice in his head whispered. And if he listened carefully, John could hear the devil laugh.

He dreamed about the room. Vivid memories and he could feel the weight of Kolya's men, pressing him down, holding him hard so that he couldn't fight against the pain. And he could feel Kolya's touch. A gentle, mocking caress on his cheek, that stung more than a slap would. And then the pain was searing into him again, slicking his skin as it burned into his veins and John came awake with a sob on his lips and he swallowed it down along with the acrid taste of bile. But his stomach twisted from the memory and he launched himself out of bed and into the bathroom, puking hard until he gagged with dry heaves.

Wearily he leaned against the wall, wiping a hand over his damp face. A hand that trembled and the itch was back and John cursed as he dug his fingernails into his skin. It wouldn't go away. So he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled into the shower. He let the flow of hot water wash away the cold sweat. Then he reached for the soap and scrubbed every inch of his body, but the itch taunted him, even when the water ran cold. John backed into the corner, sliding down to hug his updrawn knees. "No…no…no!" he whispered, over and over again. But Kolya kept laughing.

"Major?"

John jumped at the sound of Rodney's voice. He felt disoriented and it took him a moment to realize he was in Rodney's lab. "Sorry...what did you say?" He remembered Rodney had been explaining something to him, but John couldn't focus. He couldn't concentrate on anything resisting the urge to scratch away the itch. But he kept his long sleeves smoothed over his arms so no one could see the red furrows he had gouged into his flesh.

Rodney stared at Sheppard in concern. "You okay? You look tired."

"Couldn't sleep." John wouldn't deny it. He didn't want to be here today. He wanted to curl up in the corner and fade into black. A part of him wished the pain would come back because that was something he could hold on too. Something he could touch. The itch he couldn't reach and it was making him go crazy in bits in pieces. John could feel his sanity slipping away and he knew that Kolya was laughing at him from his grave.

"Why don't you go lie down. It's after midnight." Rodney looked apologetic. "Beckett would skin me alive if he knew you were still up."

John nodded. "Yeah...but I won't tell. He's like a mother hen."

Rodney shrugged. "He just wants you to be okay. You're doing so well, Major."

"Thanks." He could feel Rodney's pride in him and for some reason that hurt. John knew it shouldn't hurt but he didn't want to think about that now. "I'm...uh...I'm going to go to bed. See you tomorrow, Rodney."

"Right. I'll come get you for breakfast?"

John looked at him and Rodney was so hopeful he found himself nodding, even though the mere thought of food made him nauseous. "See you then." John smiled then headed for the door. He almost ran down the corridor and stepped into the nearest transporter. He kept his sleeve down in case he ran into someone, but his fingers were already scratching and the pain of raking over the raw skin was almost a relief.

"Please be gone...please be gone," John chanted to himself as the transporter doors opened and he headed down the darkened corridor that led to the med room. The room was small and kept at a cool temperature. It was locked by ancient technology so John was able to think it open and almost laughed at how easy it was to get inside. He thought the lights on and ran to the small cabinet in the corner. He knew that's where Beckett kept the vial of Red Sun. John had charmed the information out of one of the nurses. Emily or Amy, he couldn't remember her name at the moment.

The cabinet was made of glass panels and John spotted the vial easily. He reached for the door but frowned to see that it was locked. Beckett had brought a small padlock with him from Earth. John cursed and paced for a moment. He knew he should walk away, but he couldn't. He had to make Kolya stop laughing. Stalking back to the cabinet, he drew back his right arm then punched his hand through the glass.