John came awake without a sense of urgency for once. In fact, he felt distractingly calm. He had dreamed. This time reliving what had happened. Being forced to watch as his team was tortured, and the moment when he had been tortured himself. But there was no fear or anger twisting inside him now. John felt nothing at all, just oddly detached in a way he hoped would never change.

Sensing a presence, John turned his head to see Teyla sitting in a chair next to his bed. She looked worried as she rose to her feet to greet him. John smiled, hoping to ease her concern. "How are you doing?" he asked.

"That is supposed to be my question to you," Teyla countered.

"I'm okay," John said firmly. "But you look tired."

Teyla shrugged. "I still cannot sleep without dreaming.

John remembered those fears all too well, although they seemed more like a vague memory of something that had happened to someone else, rather than his own demons. He studied Teyla's face, seeing how haunted she looked and wondering if that was how he had looked before, or if he was still reflecting that fear. Not that it mattered. John wanted to help her, only he still didn't know what to do. "I wish there was some magic pill I could give you, give all of you, to make you forget what happened," he said softly.

"I wish there was too," Teyla replied, desperation coloring her tone.

"We'll figure it out," John promised, and it was a promise he intended to keep.

Teyla was about to reply but the sound of footsteps approaching made them both turn their heads.

Kate was approaching them, a smile on her face. She greeted Teyla then focused on John. "How are you feeling, Major?"

"Pretty good," John replied, being completely honest. He was achy and sore and he couldn't shake the headache that had tormented him since their return but, overall, he felt...better. Because, emotionally, he felt nothing at all.

"Feel up to talking then?" Kate prompted.

John shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Kate looked at Teyla, reaching out to touch the other woman's shoulder. "Would you excuse us?"

"Of course." Teyla mustered a ragged smile that she directed at John, then she turned and took her leave.

"Can you tell me what happened, Major?" Kate asked, getting right to the point.

John rather appreciated her candor. "Sure...it's not a big deal. I took a shower and I didn't realize that the water was ice cold."

Kate studied him a moment then said, "You didn't feel it?"

"I guess not." John frowned, wondering if she was being dense on purpose. Then it hit him, what she was suggesting. "You think I was trying to freeze myself? To make myself sick or something?"

"Were you?"

John supposed he should feel angry at the accusation implied, but he felt nothing but a detached sense of surprise. "I guess I was just wrapped up in my thoughts and I didn't realize the water was so cold. I think...I guess I'm starting to accept what happened and I'm trying to deal with it. I was so focused on that...I think I blocked out any physical reaction."

Kate looked thoughtful. "I suppose that could be what happened," she allowed.

"How can I prove it to you?" John didn't really care if she believed him or not, but he knew if Heightmeyer made ripples about it, it would affect him on every other level. His command dynamic would be affected most and John did not want that to happen.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see what happens next, Major," Kate replied.

John wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "Meaning...what? Exactly."

Kate studied him a moment, then said, "I'd like for us to do daily sessions, Major. To talk about everything that happened to you."

"What about the others? My team?" John shifted in the bed, feeling the tug of the IV in the back of his hand and resisting the urge to rip it out. But it was mainly a vague annoyance more than anything. A physical blip that barely registered.

"I'm trying to get them to agree to individual sessions," Kate allowed. "Dr. Weir has spoken to them, just this morning, about the fact that if they don't agree to get help, then they will be grounded...indefinitely."

John did not want to hear that. "I need them," he countered, his voice serenely calm. He felt as if he should feel upset about this, but he didn't feel anything. Not even angry. No regret. Nothing. Just the realization that he had to do something.

Kate sighed. "They need help," she stated. "You all do."

"I want to talk to them," John replied, shoving back the covers and attempting to slide out of bed. But Beckett must have been watching from the sidelines because, right on cue, he came striding forward.

"Don't even think about getting out of that bed, Major!" Carson admonished. "I haven't cleared you yet."

John sat back, allowing Beckett to draw the covers back over him, but then he held the doctor's gaze. "I'm fine...we both know that. What happened in the shower is just a fluke. It won't happen again. And I promise to do whatever you say. Just let me out of here so I can help my team."

Carson made a face then looked defeated. "All right, I'll release you after you have breakfast. But I want you to make sure you rest and eat and I want you to check in with me before bed time."

"I can do that," John allowed, offering a smile he didn't feel.

"We'll see," Carson countered, not looking hopeful. He turned to Heightmeyer. "Are you done with the major?"

She nodded. "For now. But I'll set up a time for sessions," she said to John.

John tried turning on the charm. "Look...I'm good. I am. I just want to help my team. Give me time to do that. I need time to be with them and feel them out. If something else happens, if I do something stupid, then we can set up sessions. It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"True enough," Carson interjected, as he set about disconnecting John from the IV.

"Can you clear me for light duty?" John asked, suddenly. He realized he needed to be doing something. Maybe getting back into a familiar routine would help clear his head so that he could figure out what to do to help the others.

Carson didn't reply for a moment. He was sliding the IV needle out. He then checked the site and slapped a Band-Aid over it. He then stepped back, folded his arms over his chest and appeared to be considering John's request. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt if you did some paper work and the like," He allowed. "Just don't overdo anything."

John nodded, smiling, but still not feeling it. He supposed he should feel glad or relieved and on some level he understood that was what he was thinking. But he just didn't feel it. He still felt nothing but a calm detachment. But maybe that would be just the thing to allow him to help his teammates. "I'll behave myself," John promised. "Besides which, it's not like I'm fragile or breakable, so stop worrying and fussing, doc. Okay?" He meant it to be reassuring, only Beckett looked anything but.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure you know your own limitations, laddie," Carson replied, sounding resigned. "Now stay put and rest up. I'll send for a tray and after you eat...maybe…I'll send you off."

"Whatever you say," John replied, willing to do as requested. So he shifted around until he was comfortable and closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming about Sumner and the Wraith. Over and over, John replayed the moment he put a bullet in Sumner's head. But it was like watching a scene in a movie. He no long had an emotional connection to it. John wondered if, finally, he would be able to put all of his demons to rest.

John was finally released from the infirmary. The first thing he did was head to his room to shower and change. Then he went in search of Weir. He was pleased when she told him that Beckett had informed her about John being allowed to start up with light duty. The downside being that she had some reports she wanted him to go over, immediately. So John accepted them but, before leaving, he had to ask, "How's my team doing?"

"They've been better," Elizabeth allowed. "Teyla and Ford went to the mainland. She wanted to speak with Halling and to collect some more herbs for her tea."

"Maybe it will do them some good to get off Atlantis for a bit," John stated.

Elizabeth nodded, but she didn't look convinced. She looked frustrated and sad. "I hope so," she allowed.

John offered a smile that he didn't feel and said, "I take it Rodney is in his lab?"

"Last time I checked, yes," Elizabeth replied. She might have said more but her ear com clicked and she excused herself to answer it.

John simply left her office and headed for Rodney's lab. He found him working alone. "Where is everyone?" John queried, as he entered the room.

Rodney didn't look up from his laptop. "Working. Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?"

"I got released," John replied. "What are you working on?" He tried to peer over Rodney's shoulder.

"Nothing you'd understand!" Rodney snapped. "Go bother somebody else, Major! I'm busy!"

John didn't take offense. He didn't feel angry, he still didn't feel anything. But he could almost feel Rodney's anger and he wondered what caused it. "What are you so pissed at?" he asked.

Rodney flew off the stool he was sitting on, with such velocity that it toppled over. "I told you to leave me alone!" he snarled, blue eyes flashing as he confronted John.

"That's not going to happen, Rodney," John countered, firmly. "You know that. I want to help you."

"You can't help me! No one can help me...or Ford...or Teyla!" Rodney paced away from John, hands flailing as he spoke. "You seem better though." It came out like an accusation and Rodney turned to face John again. "I sat with you last night. No nightmares."

John shrugged. "I was pretty much sedated, Rodney."

Rodney's shoulders slumped, as if he were deflating. "Being sedated doesn't stop them," he whispered. "And I talked to Teyla. She said you were all calm and almost happy when you woke up."

"And that pisses you off?" John countered, suddenly catching on.

"YES!" Rodney was almost screaming. "I'm so tired of being afraid to close my eyes! I'm so damn tired of being TIRED! Why aren't you suffering anymore? Why did it stop for you?"

John moved to Rodney, locking eyes with the irate man. "I've just come to accept it as what it was, Rodney. An illusion. It can't hurt you if you don't let it."

Rodney stared at him in disbelief. "You're joking, right? What a bunch of bullshit!" He turned away and started pacing again. "Maybe if we knew why...maybe it would help."

"What do you mean?" John prompted, moving to step in front of Rodney so he would stop pacing.

"Why did they do it?" Rodney stated. "Teyla and Ford and I...we've talked about that. Wondering why they did that to us. What did they want?"

John frowned, wondering if maybe Rodney was losing his mind. He had told them what they had wanted. What that women had asked about over and over again. "They wanted the location to Earth," he said.

Rodney glared at him. "How did they know we could tell them?"

"Obviously they could read our minds." John stared at Rodney in confusion. It wasn't like the other man to be so obtuse.

"Who were they?" Rodney continued. "And why did they suddenly let us go? Was there just one of them? Was it just the woman who was real? Did you kill her? Was she actually real?" The questions bubbled out of Rodney as if he were unable to stop them.

John cut Rodney off by gripping his arm, he could see how much this was bothering his friend. "Maybe we can go back and find out," John offered. And maybe it would be the right thing to do. Maybe then the rest of his team could lay their demons to rest as well. "I'll ask Weir."

Rodney pulled away from John and returned to his laptop, bending down to pick up his toppled stool. "She won't let us go back," he muttered.

"Maybe not, but it won't hurt to ask." John moved back to Rodney's side. "I'll ask her right now." He patted Rodney on the shoulder and headed off, finally feeling as if there was something solid he could do to help his team.