AN: Thank you gaffer, Kylen, Linzi and Shelly, for beta, handholding and shoulder to whine upon. I've got to warn you here (and aren't those of you who skip AN's going to be pissed) this isn't the final chapter. I truly thought I'd be able to wrap it up, but it didn't work out that way. I'd love to say thirteen will be it, but I'm feeling a little jinxed on my estimating abilities, so, let's just settle for the end is almost here. Lilas – I'm just waiting for your shouts to hit. And you thought I was evil when I miscounted the FIRST time!

Chapter Twelve

They walked through the wormhole, and immediately John felt the metal ramp under his feet. The SGC. He still had a hold of Rodney's arm and let McKay lead the way down. It was the same ramp his feet had walked up almost two years ago on a one-way trip to a life he couldn't have begun to imagine. He'd been naïve about a lot of things back then, despite the hardships he'd endured prior to embarking on the adventure of a lifetime. So many others had also walked up that ramp, and they wouldn't ever be coming back. The hard reality of it put his blindness into some small amount of perspective.

"The General's down here," Rodney hissed under his breath, giving John a quick warning.

"Welcome home, Colonel Sheppard – Doctor McKay," greeted General Landry moments after McKay had prepared him. "And welcome to Earth, Teyla - Ronon."

Being around Generals made him nervous. Hell, being around any superior officer made him nervous; fall-out from the black mark on his record, and the actions leading to it. John knew his reputation followed him, and he straightened, pulling his arms free, needing to keep with protocol. "General," he said uncomfortably. Sheppard might be blind, and he might feel like he had a permanent mark against him, but he was still an officer in the United States Air Force.

"At ease, Colonel," Landry drawled. "I'm not going to hold to formality with a man facing what you are."

Stiffly, John replied, "I'd rather you did, Sir. I don't intend to stay this way." Having his condition brought out right from the beginning didn't exactly make his day. Especially standing in a gateroom where he was pretty sure there were security officers standing by, and other people. That, and the pity factor. He didn't even know Landry. It made him feel even more uncomfortable. John wasn't used to anything more than disdain from superiors like this General, and being treated with kindness threw him off-kilter.

"Son, I'm a General, I get to do what I want, now – Doctor Lam has beds prepared for you and Doctor McKay," he trailed off, and what he was doing, Sheppard couldn't tell but he started again, "I assume you'll want to get the ball rolling as soon as possible? SG-1 will help you and your team get settled. I don't believe you've met Colonel Carter or Colonel Mitchell." The man was firing out information so fast John struggled to keep up. "Carter will be using the Tok'ra device on you and Doctor McKay. Mitchell will be – what will you be doing, Mitchell?"

The amusement in the General's voice made John think of Weir, and his own team. The SGC still had their battles here in the Milky Way. John figured you didn't have that kind of life without forming relationships and learning to care about each other. He didn't know a lot about SG-1, but he knew that Rodney had a thing for one Colonel Sam Carter.

"I'm moral support, Sir," Mitchell answered casually.

Until Mitchell had chimed in, John hadn't any idea that the Colonel was there. It was killing him, not knowing who else was in the gateroom; not knowing where anyone was except his team. His memories of the room itself had faded a long time ago. The brief time he'd spent waiting to gate to Atlantis hadn't been enough to remember anything specific except the general things, like knowing the observation window was overhead and in front of his current position. Not only did John want to 'get the ball rolling', he desperately wanted to get out of the gateroom.

"Yes, you understand right," McKay spoke up from John's side. "Even as we talk, my headache is pounding my brain against the inside of my skull in tune to a bad drummer's quartet. So, if the pleasantries are done?"

There was a sharp laugh, quick and humorless, before a woman accused, "Still the same polite Rodney McKay that we all love to hate."

"Still the same dumb blonde, making irrelevant observations," Rodney retorted lazily.

John elbowed him, "Rodney, play nice." That had to be Carter, then. Only one other person made Rodney that irritable, and that would be him.

Mitchell said, with a hard edge that was there for everyone to pick up on, "Doctor McKay, it's not smart to insult the person that holds the ability to heal your injuries -" it was tight and restrained "- is it?"

"Mitchell, enough," barked Landry. "This isn't a bar room brawl, clear?"

"Yes, Sir," answered Mitchell smartly.

"It's okay," Sam assured the room- John wasn't sure who she was addressing specifically. "Oddly enough, Rodney and I have made a weird peace, of sorts." The explanation sounded rushed, and John had to wonder what had happened that he couldn't see. He had images of Ronon and Mitchell toeing off against one another over Sam and Rodney's collective honor. "I'd be worried if he hadn't said it. Isn't that right, McKay – it's fine. In fact, why don't we all get a drink? Some lemonade, Rodney?"

Now it was Sheppard's turn to splutter, which he quickly turned into a cough. Just when he'd thought Carter was trying to defuse the situation. Teyla was the one to chime in now, and there was no denying the veiled threat. "Doctor McKay is allergic to citrus. I prefer you offer him coffee."

He groaned. This was going just about as spectacularly bad as he'd imagined. "General, those beds you offered? Maybe we should go – before you have extra bodies to fill more."

"I can fill more beds," added Ronon with that steady calm he always seemed to employ, unless he was a step away from shooting you, in which case, he usually ratcheted it up from steady to pissed. Ronon didn't have in betweens.

"No," John said sharply. "No beds. Or – no more beds." Damn it. "Can we just go?" he asked the air. The situation was degenerating, and his own case of nerves over the possibility of getting his sight back – and then again, the possibility of not getting his sight back – had John a step away from swinging his own punch, and he'd be happy with whomever he connected with, whether it was his team or not. And seeing how there was a general somewhere in front of him, probably in swinging range, John figured it was time to get out of there.

"I think that would be a good idea," agreed Landry. "Colonel Mitchell and Colonel Carter will escort you and your team to the infirmary, where Doctor Lam is waiting. And everyone will get along, is that clear?"

The steel was unmistakable and John nodded. Loudly, for his team's benefit, he agreed. "Yes, Sir, everyone will get along." He was pretty sure his team knew he meant them.

John listened as he heard Landry spin on his heels, and – not storm – but leave the room with alacrity. He almost thought he'd heard the General mutter something about if they didn't, they'd all have beds with restraints, courtesy of him, but since no one said anything back, Sheppard figured this was probably a better use of 'don't ask, don't tell'.

John nudged McKay, "Let's go before anything else happens."

He felt Rodney's arm jerk, and guessed McKay had shrugged. "I didn't start it," he muttered.

"Yes, you did," retorted Sheppard. "What are we waiting on?"

"Sorry," Mitchell cleared his throat. "This way."

The layout of the SGC was uncertain ground to John, and he held on to Rodney with his left hand curled around McKay's right arm. He stayed a step behind, and hoped there weren't hallways full of people staring at them as they headed to the infirmary.

As opposed to their arrival, the trip to the infirmary was subdued. The silence gnawed at John's nerves. "Where's Daniel Jackson?" he asked, hoping to break the ice that had formed over the surface.

"Probably somewhere with his nose in a book," cracked Rodney.

John stepped forward with his left foot slightly more to the side, and was rewarded by a surprised break in Rodney's stride as John's toe caught McKay's heel. He smiled stiltedly when Rodney stopped for a pause. "Sorry."

"No, you're not," he retorted.

Carter cleared her throat, drawing their attention. "We're at the elevator," she announced. "If you'd like, Colonel Mitchell can escort Teyla and Ronon to their quarters while we continue to the infirmary."

Mitchell intoned, "Right. I can do that." There was another pause where John wondered what was passing between the members of his team, Carter and Mitchell. "Just – no hitting the nice Air Force Colonel that didn't even think of touching your weapon. Okay, big guy? And hey, I know just the person you need to meet."

Sheppard liked Mitchell. "Go ahead," he said to Ronon and Teyla. At least he was pretty sure he said it to them and not the wall. "No reason for you guys to tag along. Go, get comfortable, see the base, do the tourist thing."

There was hesitation in Teyla's voice when she spoke. "Colonel, I would prefer we stay together -"

"Teyla, they're not going to abduct us," Rodney interjected. "You're not, are you?" he said uncertainly. "Because we've got lots of information on Atlantis, and it would really suck if you'd slid to the dark side and -"

"Rodney," ground out John. "They're not going to kidnap us. Teyla, I'd prefer you go. One mother hen is all I'll need." If they'd been alone, he would've told her that as much as he understood, he didn't want the added expectation of staring eyes when the healing device was used. If it failed –

"If you need us," rumbled Ronon. John could almost picture the runner fondling his gun.

"Thanks," he nodded. "I know."

"Sam," said Mitchell, and John knew something had passed between the two that he couldn't see, and then he listened as the three of them walked away.

"That, uh, Ronon – he wouldn't really -"

"Yes, he would," McKay answered Carter succinctly. "But only if he's given a reason or you're a Wraith – and seeing how there aren't any Wraith here, thank God for that, by the way, I'd say as long as your people can control their base impulses, he won't break anyone's bones."

"Right," Carter replied uncertainly. John got the distinct feeling that Carter believed she'd just sent her little Red Riding Hood off with the big bad wolf.

A ding signaled the arrival of the elevator, and John let Rodney lead him in. "Colonel Carter, from what I hear, you're the SGC's version of our Rodney McKay." John groaned as soon as he finished. That just came out entirely wrong. "I mean, you two have the same jobs, but in different galaxies," he tried to explain again.

The elevator lurched upwards, taking John's stomach with it.

"Not exactly like him," she replied. "I'm smarter."

"Are we really going to get into that again, because, really, I'll just make you look bad."

John cleared his throat. "Blind here," he reminded them irritably. It seemed every time he tried to start a conversation, it was getting hijacked by the seeing people around him, and there was a lot he was missing out on. He was definitely growing annoyed.

"Sorry." Disgruntled, McKay didn't really sound it. He sounded rather pleased he got the last insult in.

When the elevator stopped, John felt the cool air from the corridor blow over his face, and tightened his hold again on Rodney, following slightly behind as they moved into the hall.

"It's down this way," Carter explained.

From the location of her voice, John knew she was ahead of Rodney. Using the time left, John had to ask, "As thankful as I am for the potential cure, how did you become able to use this – Tok'ra – device?" The word was unfamiliar to him, so he hoped he pronounced it at least half-way correct.

He heard Carter draw in a sheepish breath before explaining. "Not long after we began traveling to other worlds I was made an unwilling host to a Tok'ra. Her name was Jolinar. When she died, she left behind memories that allow me to use certain Goa'uld technologies, one of which is the healing device."

"Unwilling?" Sheppard's SGC history wasn't as strong as it probably should be, but what little he did know, was that the Tok'ra had been their allies. Touchy at times, but supposedly one of the good guys out in the galaxy.

"Long story," she said, and there was something - a haunted edge that made John nod knowingly.

"Seems the Tok'ra only applied their vaunted upstanding morals to the situations that suited," bitched Rodney.

Sheppard was surprised by the bitterness coming from McKay. But then again, Rodney had been working in the Stargate program for a while before Atlantis, and he supposed there was bound to be history that he didn't know. It just…startled him.

Letting the Tok'ra back story drop, John asked, "And this device, it can make me see again? And cure the neurological damage to McKay?"

"That's the general idea," said Rodney, answering for Carter. They stopped, and Sheppard figured they were at the infirmary. He heard the sound of doors opening and Carter said, "This way," that confirmed his suspicions.

She escorted them to somewhere deep in the room, and McKay guided John's hands to the gurney, so that he could hop up. "Where'd she go?" he whispered the question to Rodney, when he heard her footsteps retreating.

"To get this Lam person…"

"That would be Doctor Lam." The voice was strong and came from behind John, making him jump noticeably.

He could almost hear the wince in her voice as she apologized, "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"I didn't mean anything by that," stammered McKay. "I was just – oh, God."

Sheppard guessed Lam was sufficiently attractive to induce that level of babbling in Rodney. He was debating whether to turn to face her, when he heard her steps as she walked around and solved his dilemma.

"Colonel Sheppard, before Sam attempts to use the healing device on either you or Doctor McKay, I want to run some baseline exams in order to compare the before and after results."

John felt a spike of dismay. More waiting – so close, and now they wanted to run more tests. He fought to keep his face neutral but Rodney's words illuminated his lack of poker-face. "Carson ran all the tests you could think of, and probably more with his Ancient medical toys – why didn't you request the results when we came through earlier?"

"I did," Lam replied easily. "But that was then, and this is now, and you two have traveled through a wormhole and it's my job to be thorough."

"We get that." Sheppard wasn't sure where Rodney was standing, but he knew it was nearby. All things considered, McKay was probably feeling just as much disappointment as he was feeling. The added kicker was the sarcastic admission of pain that Rodney had slipped in earlier. John knew that McKay still suffered from intense headaches, and as much as he would complain prolifically about other ailments, this was one area he tended to clam up about. Because it was a blatant reminder of his condition. "If this is going to be a while, Rodney's got a headache. Maybe you can give him something for the pain while we wait?"

John could practically hear the mental doctor gears spin up. He heard Lam's clothing rustle. Then McKay backed into Sheppard's gurney. "No, really – it's fine. Just, you know, straining to see through my good eye gives me headaches. It's a manly headache, nothing that needs anything sharp."

"This isn't for you, but I'll get you something soon," Lam's voice was amused. "It's for Colonel Sheppard -"

"What?" John spluttered. He couldn't see, but he'd heard McKay say 'sharp', and anything that a doctor had that could be described as sharp, he didn't want. Especially since he didn't have a headache, and he couldn't think of any good reason for her to be poking him anywhere.

"Colonel, under the best of circumstances, an MRI of the brain is uncomfortable. This will be detailed, and we have to use contrast dye. Considering your condition, I've decided that sedation is the proper method -"

Lam's voice had clearly tried to do soothing, but all John could process was being sedated. "I don't want to be knocked out," he protested. Suddenly, a mere injection of pain killer held a lot more appeal.

"Pardon me for being blunt," she said in a voice that didn't sound apologetic at all, just very certain. "You're blind, Colonel. If you haven't had an MRI before, they are incredibly loud. Individuals with all their senses can react poorly under the scans. You'll need to be perfectly still, and I would imagine you won't enjoy being awake."

McKay leaned close to John, and muttered, "She's trying to say you'll be a nine letter word for scared."

He might not be able to see, but John knew Rodney was close. He glared in McKay's direction.

"Colonel, believe me when I say this is for your benefit."

Knowing his knuckles were probably whitening from the grip he had on the edge of the gurney, John closed his eyes, fighting down the panic. The few times he'd been sedated recently had been bad, and definitely hadn't been willingly. When they'd first been captured by the Nokomisians – and then after, in the hospital, and the last time by the rebels, twice.

McKay must've finally connected the dots, because when he talked, there was no derisive humor left – or, maybe not so much. "Colonel Sheppard's been sedated more than once by the 'not so nice' people that kept us captive after we," John heard a strangled chuckle from Rodney before he continued, "literally dropped in on them and their pathetic city. His petrified state aside, if I stay with him -"

"He's still here," John reminded them sardonically. This was stupid. He knew it was. But it didn't make the crawling fear quiet. Swallowing his pride, John offered, "Okay, I'll do it. But, McKay stays in the room." Rodney had offered and he wasn't feeling up to false bravado just now. "Or one of the others from my team." God, he hated to admit it. Yet, he did. "I don't want to be alone when I'm out."

Lam touched his arm, and he was surprised by the gentleness. "I do understand. We'll get your test done first, and after it's finished, we can run Doctor McKay's. That way, he'll be with you in the scanning room. I'll keep the sedation light. You may be aware, or you may sleep, depending on how tired your body is."

"I won't be exposed to anything dangerous, right?" McKay asked, nervous. "I was hoping some day to pass on my superior genes to a handful of mini-me's."

"Your reproductive capabilities will remain the same as they were before," Lam replied dryly. She moved her hand down to Sheppard's legs, and prompted him to lift them up to the bed, guiding his upper body down with her other hand.

John let her steer his body into position, feeling oddly vulnerable when he was on his back. "Mini-Rodney, now that's scary," he joked, trying to relieve some of his tension.

"Don't worry," complained McKay. "I'm sure any hopes of reproduction will be erased by the time we're finished in the Pegasus galaxy – and by finished, I don't mean dead, hopefully."

John nodded, closing his eyes, as he allowed the SGC doctor to position his right hand. He knew what Rodney was trying to do, and he appreciated it. Keep the blind man's thoughts off of the things he didn't want to think about.

"Just a pinch, Colonel," she said softly. "I'm going to run the IV first, then we'll add the sedative."

As he felt the needle pierce his skin, John was touched to feel Rodney's warm hand rest on his leg. That is, he'd thought it was McKay, until the lower-toned voice drawled, "You rate VIP service, Sheppard. Doctor Lam's the best."

Mitchell had returned, and though the voice had an edge of light heartedness, there was also a thin vein of warmth that made Sheppard wonder at its presence. He didn't know Mitchell any more than the others in the SGC, but there was something there –

"Ronon, and Teyla?" he asked, trying to ignore the work Lam was doing to his hand. She'd found the vein and was taping the needle securely to the back of his hand. John also kept his eyes closed. He was unsettled – wishing to be just about anywhere else other than here. This wasn't what he'd prepared for. A simple gate in, try the healing device, and it'd either work or not. He hadn't bargained for undergoing tests first, and sedation, and dealing with meeting SG-1, though to be fair, he'd only met half. Jackson he'd met briefly before in Antarctica, but Teal'c he had yet to see – fuck –to meet.

"Teal'c is – showing them the gym," Mitchell said, the amusement back stronger than before. "I think Teal'c and Dex have found familiar ground."

Rodney snorted, and said, "Who's running the betting pool? I want twenty on Ronon."

"Twenty," Mitchell replied, mocking. "I put fifty on Teal'c. Show some team support."

John rolled his head back and forth slightly, because they were both wrong. "A hundred on Teyla." Cold liquid traced up his veins from the IV port.

"You'll have to get with your bookies later, gentlemen," Lam said. She patted John's thigh reassuringly. "The Colonel is about to take a nice nap. Nighty night, Colonel."

He felt the port attached to his hand move as she injected the sedative, and waited for the sleepiness to steal over him. It didn't take long before he slid into softness, with Rodney near his head and Mitchell still keeping a warm hand on his leg. And he wasn't feeling so scared this time.