John came awake with a start, hissing at the pull of not only his ribs, but every muscle in his body. He was so sore it hurt to blink. But he tried to focus on the pain rather than the lingering images of his dream. But Ford's face still haunted him as he dragged his body out of bed.

Glancing at the clock, John realized he had slept for almost eight hours, but he still felt exhausted. Still, he forced himself to move to the center of his room and begin the movements Teyla had taught him, but without the sticks. After twenty minutes, he still felt sore but his muscles were more relaxed and after a long, hot, shower, John felt more human.

He headed for the messhall, got a tray and made his way to an empty table in the back. He wasn't in the least bit hungry, but John made himself eat. But he gave up after a few bites and was pushing the tray aside when McKay dropped down into the chair across from him.

"Busy?" Rodney asked.

"No crutches," John countered.

Rodney made a face. "How observant of you."

John let a smile curve his lips. "Did you burn them?"

"Would have if Carson hadn't snatched them from me. Must be I was projecting my intentions." Rodney stared at Sheppard's tray. "You going to finish that?"

"No. Have at it." John watched as Rodney pulled it towards him and finished off his toast and eggs substitute.

Around a mouthful of food Rodney stated, "I need your help in the lab."

John wasn't interested in turning things off and on. "You have the gene," he reminded Rodney.

"I know that." Another mouthful of eggs which Rodney swallowed quickly, then he reached for Sheppard's untouched glass of juice. He drained it then said, "I need your math skills."

"Did Weir put you up to this?" John couldn't help but be suspicious.

Rodney frowned at him. "Actually, I put me up to this. I asked her if you could help me and she said you were cleared for light duty."

John couldn't argue that fact and he hated the thought of hanging out in his room with nothing to do. "What do you need me for?"

"Just some calculations."

"Why can't you do them?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I could...of course, but you're actually faster at it. And if you tell anyone I said that I'll deny it vehemently."

John felt another smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wouldn't dare say a thing," he replied. "When do you need me?"

"Now?" Rodney was finished with breakfast and he pushed back his chair.

"I'll meet you in your lab," John countered, rising as well and trying not to betray how stiff and sore he felt. He didn't think Rodney noticed. "I need to find Teyla first."

Rodney hesitated then nodded. "Fine. Just don't be long or I'll sick Ford on --" he broke off, horrified by what he had said.

John had stiffened at Ford's name, feeling his face grow tight with tension. "It's okay, Rodney," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "We can say his name. It's not like we're going to forget about him." John knew he never would. With that he turned and walked away, feeling Rodney's eyes burning into his back all the way to the door.

After leaving Rodney, John went in search of Teyla and confirmed a time for them to practice again. That done he did as promised and met Rodney at his lab. John then spent a few hours working on calculations and in between he amused himself on a borrowed laptop by perusing some of the Ancient text. John figured it wouldn't hurt to try and learn to read it for himself. When lunch time arrived, John excused himself. He wasn't hungry and he wanted to be alone, so he headed off to his private balcony. He hadn't been back since he tossed Ford's dog tag over the railing.

But he didn't want to think about Ford. Leaving him behind had been out of his control and John knew it. Instead he sat down and thought about everything he had done since coming to Atlantis. He considered all of the choices he had made. All the mistakes. Some things he wished he could change, but for the most part he knew that were he able to do things over again, he would make the same choices. John had long ago learned to follow his instinct. It had served him well. And in doing so he had learned to deal with the aftermath. And he would do so again.

Rising to his feet, John pressed a hand to his ribs and sighed. Then he headed for his room to grab his gym bag. It was time for another session with Teyla.

John focused on nothing but the flow of each move he made. He was still mirroring Teyla's motions, but concentrated solely on what he was feeling. How each move flowed into the other. How each muscle in his body stretched and pulled to follow. He knew which areas burned with the stretch, meaning he needed to make them more flexible. He began to understand every weakness. John finally got what Teyla had been trying to teach him from the beginning. To become one with himself. Mind, body and soul. It wasn't something he was used to, or particularly comfortable with, but John vowed to make the effort. This kind of focus felt more external than internal, at least to the point that it kept him distracted from his subconscious thoughts. It gave him back a sense of control.

"Enough!" Teyla spoke sharply and without warning.

It startled John enough to set him off balance and he glared at her a bit as he caught himself. "I don't want to stop."

Teyla looked angry for a moment then she shook her head. "You are pushing yourself too hard, Major. You must let yourself heal. Inside...and out."

"Guess that means no?" John was being deliberately obtuse. He knew what she was saying but he wasn't going to play the game. He did not want to talk.

"I miss him too," Teyla said softly. "We all do."

John hid a wince as he moved to where his gym bag sat on a nearby bench. He tossed his sticks into it then grabbed his towel and wiped his face. Then he took a long swig from his water bottle before turning back to Teyla to reply. "I don't want to talk about Ford."

Teyla moved to stand before him and asked, "What if I do?"

"I'm sure you can find someone to talk to. Try Rodney." John grabbed his gym bag and was ready to leave but froze at the touch of a hand on his arm.

"You cannot run from what you feel, Major," Teyla said, as she turned him back to face her.

John let himself lock eyes with her. He had nothing to hide. "I'm not running from anything, Teyla." He shrugged off her hand. "Ford is dead and there isn't a damn thing I can do to change that. I'm not going to beat myself up about it."

Teyla looked surprised by his words and her eyes narrowed as she studied him for a long moment. Then she spoke softly. "I believe that is exactly what you are doing, Major. You blame yourself for his death."

"No...I don't!" John spoke more sharply than he had intended and he made himself relax, forcing stiff muscle to let go of the tension that thrummed throughout his body. "Ford was a soldier and he died in the line of duty. It doesn't get any better than that." That said, John turned again and strode out the door. He returned to his room and grabbed his sticks again. Ignoring his body's protests, John repeated the dance that Teyla had taught him. Move after move, pattern after pattern, again and again until he slid to the floor in defeat.

For the next three days, John's life became a pattern. He would eat breakfast with Rodney then join him in his lab to play human calculator. At lunch time John would head for his balcony, rain or shine, until it was time to meet Teyla for practice. She gave up trying to talk to him about Ford and they finally integrated the dance into true combat and John felt triumphant when he took her down. His muscles burned and ached in protest and he was sheened in sweat, but John was pleased. But he didn't let that show as he helped Teyla to her feet. "Again?" he asked.

"Not today," she replied. "You did well." Teyla moved so they could touch foreheads.

But John sidestepped and grabbed his gym bag. "See you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder. Then he went back to his room to practice some more. And like all the nights before, he slept without dreaming.

Beckett broke the pattern.

John was heading out of his room to meet Rodney for breakfast when he was paged by the doctor. So John headed for the infirmary and he wasn't too happy when Beckett told him it was time for another exam. But he said nothing as he sat on the nearest exam bed and accepted Beckett's poking and prodding. He answered every question honestly then slid to his feet when Beckett was done. "So...am I cleared for full duty now?" John prompted.

"Not yet," Carson replied, without hesitation.

That surprised John. "Why not? I feel good."

Carson looked up from Sheppard's chart, his eyes solemn. "You're healing well but I can tell you're still sore. I know you've been practicing with Teyla."

"And that's a problem?" John felt a flare of anger but kept it tamped down.

"You need to give yourself time to heal, major."

John took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before replying. "I'm healing just fine."

Carson shook his head. "You're losing weight and I'm guessing you're not sleeping well."

"Lousy guess," John shot back. "I sleep just fine."

"Be that as it may, I'm keeping you on light duty for another week." Carson's tone brooked no argument.

John knew better than to protest. Beckett was calling the shots and they both knew it. "Fine." John's voice betrayed nothing of what he was feeling. He kept his anger and frustration in check. "Can I go now?"

Carson nodded. "I want to see you again in three days, major."

"I'll be here." With that John stepped past him and headed out the door. He kept going, stepping into the nearest transporter and soon he was knocking on Weir's door.

She looked surprised to see him. "Come in, John. What can I do for you?"

He stepped in and closed the door. "I figured I'd give you the update. I'm still grounded."

"I figured as much," Elizabeth allowed. "You need time to heal, John."

"I assume you've been using Bates in my place?" John countered. "Sending him offworld as first team?"

Elizabeth nodded. "That's right. Is that a problem?"

John shook his head. "No. But I have a request."

"Let's hear it," Elizabeth invited.

"I want all military personnel back in training," John replied. He had been thinking about this for a while now and since he couldn't go off world, he might as well make himself useful elsewhere. "We've gotten lax. I want to take teams in shifts out to the mainland. The south area isn't inhabited and we can use it for target practice. I want any scientific personnel who go off world to participate as well."

Elizabeth was silent for a long moment, considering, then she nodded. "Okay. I think it's a good idea."

John had expected to have to argue his point so he was surprised by her easy capitulation, but he didn't let it show. "Thanks." That was all he said before he turned to leave.

"Major!"

"Yes?" John turned back and caught her watching him with a sad look on her face. But she shook it off and he wondered what it meant. Not that it mattered.

Elizabeth straightened her shoulders then said, "You need to be thinking about a replacement for your team. You'll be back out there soon."

John knew that better than anyone. "I have a few candidates in mind," he said, hoping she wouldn't ask who because then he would have to lie to her. He hadn't given it any thought and he didn't want to think about it. No one could replace Ford. No one.

"Good." Elizabeth sounded uncertain but she was smiling. "Let me know when you're ready to run them by me."

"Of course." John made to leave again but she called him back. This time he froze but he didn't turn around. He didn't want to see her watching him again. He could feel her eyes on him and it raised the hairs on the back of his neck. John felt as if the walls were closing in on him and it took all his will power not to run from the room.

Elizabeth looked at Sheppard's tense form for a moment then said, "Never mind. We can talk again later."

He nodded, nothing more, and made good his escape. His measured stride not revealing his inner turmoil. But when John stepped into the nearest transporter he was sweaty and shaky and he slid down to the floor and buried his face in his hands.