AN: I made it. Holy crap, I actually MADE it. And if you're reading this, then you did, too. There were times were this story had my fingers freezing above the keyboard in dread, while at other times, banging my head against the desk repeating 'I hate this fic, I hate this fic' over and over again – yes, I actually DID do this, out loud, no less. Then there were times I giggled crazy over comments and thanked God for the others. This story is easily twice the size I'd estimated it to be, and about ten times as meaningful. Something we talked about in the longfic community was how important it is to hear back from the readers when you tackle a project of writing a long story – because it can be draining and difficult (and I know all of you that have done it are out there nodding), so, big big thanks to everyone who took the time to let me know your thoughts. It did make a difference! Thank you to Kylen, gaffer, Linzi and Shelly. Not only did I get the usual help with grammar, but I was told to 'slow down', give more – and they also gave me more than one really good line! The hand-holding and moral support was more appreciated than I can deliver in a simple thank you. And now – the final - yes it's real this time, END!

Edited to fix canon reference to Deadalus trip length, thanks naggingcube!

Chapter 15:
Epilogue

The sounds of the party told John that everyone was having a good time, as he ducked around bodies to get to the table, lifting a glass of wine, before turning to stare at the revelers. He wasn't sure if anyone noticed just how much he was still watching. Eighteen days on the Daedalus hadn't cured his insatiable desire to look. He knew most of the faces, some of them better than others. The rate he was going, someone was going to complain to Elizabeth, and he'd find himself written up for acting like a Peeping Tom.

The trip home had been long, but his team had tried to relax. It was as close to an extended down time as they were ever going to get. When they'd arrived at Atlantis, and beamed down, Elizabeth and Carson had been there to welcome them home. Beckett had politely insisted – and no offense to Carter and her healing device – but he wanted to verify test results for his own peace of mind. Sheppard was almost touched – if he hadn't been so…leery…of more tests. There were some things he just didn't care to know about anymore. The how or what – it didn't matter to him.

But it mattered to Elizabeth, and it mattered to Beckett – so, John and Rodney landed back in the infirmary, undergoing what they both hoped was the last round of scans. Ronon's surgery to remove the pins was scheduled, which meant more down time in the respect that they'd skip off world missions, but Carson had guessed it would only be a week – two tops - till the Runner's incisions healed.

It was after all of that was said and done, Sheppard had seen in McKay's eyes a desperate need to get away from the hovering; the same need he felt himself. For McKay to feel that desperation – it was saying a lot for how affected they'd all been by everything. That was when Elizabeth explained there was a welcome home party that night. Mandatory.

John suspected she saw more than she let on. Knew that all four of them were still nursing wounds inside over what had happened. With wine in hand, Sheppard wandered to the balcony overlooking the gate. Soon, they'd have to go back through – out on a new mission. His team would have to shove away the thoughts of 'what if' when they walked into that wormhole.

What if something worse happened – or didn't. God knows, they'd be expecting it. Looking over their backs, chasing their own shadows. And it wasn't without some irony that he acknowledged it was because of the fact that they'd had no way to prevent or know what'd been coming on Nokomis. Falling through to an underground city? You can think of a hundred scenarios – but you still can't predict everything that can happen.

"Colonel," Beckett greeted softly. "Needed some air?"

The wording, the tone – forced casual. John knew they were being watched like hawks. Everyone was waiting for a break. "If I needed air, I would've gone outside." In truth, he was escaping. A lot of the personnel at the party hadn't had a chance to talk to them before they'd left for the SGC, and some of the comments – he considered them unintentionally stupid. Then again, some of the people were trying their hand at armchair psychiatry.

It was nothing like being faced with the real deal, though, when Heightmeyer finally managed to corner him and asked with intentional bluntness what it felt like to be blind. That's when Sheppard had made an excuse to get a refill on his drink after answering that it was dark. Very dark. The real kicker had been that he knew she was trying to force it with him, because John had already made it clear he didn't want her help. It wasn't that he felt her services were intrusive, awkward and unnecessary – it was that John believed in all three. Kate's forced smile chased him to the drink table where he got a refill. She raised hers in a toast across the room, waiting for him to return the gesture. He didn't oblige. Instead, he'd left, needing to get away from everyone.

"I think Colonel Sheppard is dreaming about his next mission," Elizabeth interjected, joining Carson and John at the rail.

John grimaced. "Colonel Sheppard simply wanted to drink in peace." He wouldn't be telling either one of them the truth.

"And we all know how well drinking ends." Rodney had a drink in his hand as he approached them – a pink drink.

"Is that -" asked John.

"Yes, it's a Shirley Temple – I told you, I'm never drinking again."

Nodding, Sheppard fought to not grin too much. He did remember – he was just surprised that McKay did, too. And he wondered how long this new resolution would last – till New Years?

"Not drinking?" Beckett's forehead wrinkled. The doctor in him knew there was a story behind it, and Carson was never happy not knowing something if it pertained to their health, recent or current.

Deciding to bail Rodney out from having to revisit their experience, John shrugged, taking another sip of his own fruity alcoholic drink. "SG-1 took us to a bar; Ronon, Teyla and McKay had a few beers too many." That's when John noticed the grin on Elizabeth's face, and he had a sinking feeling. "You knew," he accused.

She clasped her hands around her own glass. "I may have been…tipped off as to the events in -" her eyes positively twinkled "- Mike's Pub."

Rodney groaned. "Landry sent a report, didn't he? I knew I should've asked -"

"Asked what?" John interrupted. He tipped his glass McKay's way. "We were screwed the minute you admitted to being the instigator – did you see that look on Landry's face?"

"This is where the party went," Ronon said. He held a large mug of beer, and wiped the froth from his mustache. Teyla walked with him, but she had a drink that looked suspiciously like Rodney's in her hands.

Sheppard shook his head. So much for finding a nice quiet spot to be on his own. "You sure you should be drinking that?" he asked, tipping his head slightly towards the mug. When he could, he'd excuse himself and search out a balcony – outside this time. In fact, fresh air sounded amazingly good.

"Do not tell me, the man got drunk as well," Beckett declared, staring unhappily at Ronon, Teyla and Rodney now. "And you, Colonel – you didn't?"

"Let's just say I was too busy enjoying the good company," John replied amiably. "In fact, I suffered real guilt for dragging SG-1 into a fight."

Carson snorted into his drink, but Elizabeth was nodding – God, she didn't… "They didn't happen to mention anything else in that report?" asked John.

"General Landry did mention something about a favor." She stared at John, openly curious, "But he didn't say what."

Rodney arched an eyebrow at Sheppard. "It was an inspired gift, Elizabeth. Something you wouldn't understand."

"What McKay means to say, is that it's an inside joke." John finished his drink, and suddenly wanted another. He hadn't planned for anyone to find out aside from his team, and he really didn't want to explain. "You needed to be there to appreciate it fully."

"You left them a present?" Elizabeth asked, the mild curiosity now at a level where Sheppard knew he was screwed. What the hell, right?

John smirked. "Let's just say – the force will be with them."

"He got them four Ultimate Light Sabers," crowed McKay.

The surly look on Ronon's face was almost comical as he sniffed. "I saw on the box it can make a double blade. McKay, didn't you say -"

Rodney shook his head rapidly towards Ronon, and lifted a finger behind his ear, pretending to scratch. John pursed his lips and rocked on his feet. "I said, no light sabers. Don't make me sic Beckett on you."

"I agree," Beckett replied faintly. "No light sabers – I'm not a seamstress, and I won't be sewing on body parts when laser testing goes astray. Period."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Just when I think I've heard everything, you four manage to find something else." Her glass was empty now, and John debated on going back to the table to get them both a new glass. That's when his eyes focused on Heightmeyer coming their way.

"If you don't mind -" John started, pushing off the railing.

There were a few confused faces, and Rodney asked, "Where are you going?"

"To use the little airmen's room, McKay – you want to hold my hand?" he interjected the right amount of teasing. John felt the need to get out of there before she arrived. Beckett's narrowed gaze let Sheppard know he wasn't fooled, and as everyone shifted for him to move through, he left the room, hearing Carson say, "Lass – is that Baby Duck?"

Heightmeyer delayed, John bolted. He knew he was going to have to deal with her firmly - later. Tell her he wasn't up for discussion – his experiences. He wasn't going to be a case study for anyone's scientific paper, and he wondered if Rodney hadn't already been hit up by her. Then again, she was probably scared of McKay. He'd probably give her enough fodder for ten papers.

This time John headed for the outside balcony, and not the one directly off the command deck – the one two floors up that was closer to his quarters. Her question echoed in his head. What's it like to be blind?

Dark, he'd replied stiffly. Dark as night, without any stars to light the way – no sunlight. Just never-ending blackness from morning to night.

He'd never had a break down. Sure, John had gotten mad, tired, angry and resentful – a lot of emotions, even depressed – but he'd never cried, he'd never had the chance to truly let it out. Now, at the end, maybe in a lot of ways it was easier, because it was over. They were home, healed, and safe, and had even been updated on the refugees. Elizabeth hadn't felt comfortable with them joining the Athosians on the mainland, but had helped them set up a colony on a world that had been culled. As creepy as it was, there were buildings and food, established areas and a civilization needing new people to help. And they weren't likely to be culled again anytime soon.

If he was only now letting out the pent up emotions that were overwhelming at times, then he had no one to explain himself to. John was alone, and in the darkness of the night, where no one could see anyway.

"John?"

Sheppard panicked a bit, sniffed like it was just the cold air, and tried to wipe his face with the back of his sleeve. "What's up?" he asked, his voice hoarse, keeping his face towards the water. Over the crashing waves below, he hadn't heard the doors open. The endless water – as far as his eyes could see; the whitecaps, highlighted in the moonlight, the dark sky that was lit by millions and millions of stars.

Teyla stepped nearer, and that's when he realized McKay and Ronon were with her. That hypersensitive hearing had truly faded back to almost normal. Two more weeks, and he'd pass the two month mark. "We were worried when you left so suddenly and did not return."

"It's a long time to be in the bathroom," added McKay, wryly.

Her words were a question – Rodney's an accusation, calling John on his escape, but Sheppard didn't have any answers – least none he was willing to share. The cool night air had rapidly dried any remnants of his emotional release, and John turned to face them. He breathed deep and said, "It's dark out here." He stated it like any other observation made on a mission, but he saw their faces. John knew they got it. Maybe in more ways than he did himself.

The moved forward, and he saw the understanding as they sought a place on the balcony rail. Sheppard turned back to the water, and they watched in silence as a shooting star streaked across the sky. Ronon pointed at it. "Not so dark, though."

"There are stars here," Teyla agreed.

Rodney's jaw tightened. "We'll see the sunrise if we stay long enough."

Was there something magical or right to say at that moment – or maybe they'd all just said what they needed to with those words. John guessed he'd never really know, because all the time in the world together couldn't give him the ability to know what each one of his team was thinking. He was pretty sure that his guess was close. "I'm game," he replied, surprising himself.

Ronon nodded. "Sure. I'm in."

McKay seemed unsure, but finally sighed. "Fine. But I'm getting blankets. It's cold out here and I'm not catching the latest virus and landing in the infirmary, again."

"I will get some hot tea," added Teyla.

"Then it's a date," Sheppard agreed. He smiled, feeling that feeling of everything being right again. The emotions were there – there'd always be echoes, the scars – but they weren't the only things that John had brought out of the experiences from Nokomis. Sometimes it took something bad to make you realize that some things are sometimes more than you think they are. It wasn't just the sun, moon, and stars that lit the way in the sky. Sometimes, people could do the same. John figured as long as he had his team, his world never would truly be dark.

"Four letter word for collaborate," Rodney called over his shoulder. "I expect the answer when I'm back bearing gifts for the sunrise show."

John watched as Teyla split off with Ronon to retrieve the carafe of hot tea, and McKay towards their quarters for blankets. Four letter word for collaborate. He chuckled softly to himself. "Team," he said to the ocean. To the sky. To the world. They were a team.

The End