A/N:- Well, we are very nearly there now this is the penultimate chapter proper. I'm on to the difficult business of writing emotional angst, I hope I've not strayed too far away from the characters voices. As ever feedback is both helpful and greatly appreciated.

Chapter 18

Time Doesn't Heal All Wounds

Rodney stood in Carson's office and looked out through the glass dividing wall at Sheppard sleeping in the infirmary and then back to Carson, Elizabeth and Kate Heightmeyer, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

"You just let him go wandering off on his own?"

Carson gritted his teeth. "I did nothing of the sort. When I came off duty Colonel Sheppard was resting."

"Oh well! He's certainly resting now, you had to sedate him!" the physicist spat out. He couldn't believe that Sheppard could have not only walked out of the infirmary but reached the conference room without one person stopping him. "He can barely walk to the end of the corridor on his own. How the hell did he get all that way without falling over anyway?"

"Sheer bloody stubbornness, knowing the Colonel." Carson muttered. Rodney was about to speak when Elizabeth raised her hand to stop him.

"Does anyone know how he found out Sora was coming here?" She looked to Carson who just shrugged and shook his head; as she moved her gaze to Rodney he suddenly regretted his little outburst and wished he could shrink back into the wall.

"Um…well…I may have mentioned it in passing."

"Good grief man!" Carson threw his hands up in the air and Kate dropped her head in a heavy sigh. Rodney looked to Elizabeth for back up but she just fixed him with one of those stares.

"Rodney, I would have thought you of all people would have the sense to…"

"I thought I was helping," he interjected, hating the way his voice sounded whiny. "I thought if he knew she was coming here it would prove to him it was really all over. That it'd help him move on." He looked at Kate pleadingly. "I didn't know he was going to react like that."

"Well, next time you decide to practice psychology you might want to ask the opinion of someone who actually has a bloody doctorate in it!" Carson berated.

"I honestly thought it would help him. I just want everything back to normal, or whatever passes for normal in this screwed up excuse for a galaxy."

Kate sighed. "Your heart may have been in the right place, Doctor McKay, but I wish you had spoken to me first. However, what's done is done and at least he can't ignore the problem now."

The four of them looked out at the figure sleeping peacefully on the bed and Rodney felt his heart sink. Sheppard was not going to be happy when he woke up.

ooOoo

Heightmeyer's office was light and airy, the colours soft and relaxing, the furniture arranged to give an informal air. John wondered if this careful design ever fooled anyone; it was supposed to be relaxing but it was too staged and it only served to make it more uncomfortable. It reminded him of the office of the principal at one of his many high schools, one of the few that had been off-base. The principal was heavily into the idea of progressive teaching and wanted to 'relate to students on their own level'. Being called to his office was torture and he doubted this session with Atlantis's resident shrink would be any more enjoyable.

He sat staring out the window, another reminder of his school days, he thought to himself. Kate settled into the chair opposite him, crossing her legs and balancing a file, his file, on her knee.

"How are you feeling today?" He didn't turn to look at her, keeping his gaze on the distant horizon.

"Tired. Just between you and me I think someone drugged me."

"You didn't give us a lot of choice, you were very upset." Upset. He knew that didn't even come close. He'd lost it.

"I freaked out in front of half the city. Upset doesn't really cover it."

"Does it bother you that people saw what happened? Do you think it makes you weak?"

"I know it does."

"People don't think any the less of you."

"Of course they do. I'm supposed to lead them, keep calm under pressure, make the right decisions. If I can't do that then I'm not fit to be here."

"You've been through an horrendous ordeal; you can't expect to recover from that overnight. Then on top of that you'd found out the man who did this to you is potentially still alive and your friend had lost his life. Under the circumstances, I think anyone would be entitled to 'freak out' a little bit."

"He wasn't my friend; he was my torturer." Out of the corner of her eye he saw her sit up a little straighter and heard the rustle of paper as she leafed through her notes.

"Iestyn? He was the one who tortured you? You haven't mentioned that before."

"Didn't I?" For the first time he looked at her.

"No. In your report you just said he was commander of the guards."

"Oh." He thought for a minute; his report had been brief and to the point and no one had asked for more. Now he was getting better, he'd be expected to make a full and detailed report, put it all down in black and white, irrevocable proof that it really happened and wasn't just a nightmare. "Well, now you know."

"So why did he help you?" It was a good question; one he'd asked himself, one he'd asked Iestyn. The man had just smiled wearily at him and said 'Because it is right'. John closed his eyes and only re-opened them once he'd turned his head away.

"Because he was a good man in a screwed up world and he tried to do what was right and now he's dead - because of me."

"John, you are not to blame for anything that has happened here. You're as much a victim in all of this as anyone else - maybe more so." She leaned forward, her fingers knitted together, and looked at him earnestly. "And that's part the problem isn't it? You can't cope with the fact that you're a victim."

He couldn't disguise the slight twitch of his facial muscles at the word. Victim. It wasn't a word he associated with himself. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

"You are suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. You've been in the military for a long time, John. You've seen it happen to others. Have you thought any the less of them for it?" She paused, waiting for a reply, but when she didn't get one she continued. "You have a lot of people who care about you, who thought they'd lost you for good. They're not pitying you and the only one judging you is you."

"I screwed up. I was needed here."

"You were captured."

"By a kid!" He turned to her, his voice laden with self-loathing. "When I was needed, when people were dying here, I was sitting in a cell crying for my parents…so don't tell me I'm not weak because you don't know what you're talking about." Feeling dampness on his cheek, he wiped away the tears with his sleeve and stood up shakily "We're done here."

ooOoo

Carson called this the 'convalescence balcony'. It was a wide-open veranda that sat just off the infirmary. John sat on one of the many benches looking out over the sea and the Daedalus docked beneath him, thinking back over his conversation with Heightmeyer. She'd got what she wanted; he'd lost control and said things he hadn't intended telling anyone, she'd probably call that progress. When had he lost the ability to keep his cool? 'If you were any more laid back, you'd be comatose' Isn't that what McKay always said?

"Do you mind if I join you?" He looked up at Elizabeth; in the bright sunlight all he could see was her silhouette.

"Sure." He waited for her to ask how he was but she didn't, she just sat beside him quietly for a moment before holding something out to him.

"I've been meaning to give you this for a while but I wasn't sure how you'd react so…I never really found the right time." Reaching out, he took the photograph, slightly perplexed at first before registering the young man in the picture as himself. His breath caught in his throat and he felt a flush of colour in his cheeks. Elizabeth tried and failed to suppress a giggle.

"John Sheppard, are you blushing?"

"No," he lied. Then his brain made the connection. "Oh God! McKay said something about a photograph, please tell me he hasn't seen this?" Elizabeth bit her lip and raised her eyebrows in an attempt to look apologetic.

"Sorry!"

"Elizabeth!" he groaned. "Did you show it to anybody else?" She chewed her lip a little more.

"Just Carson and Teyla…and Ronon." At that point she completely failed to hold back her laughter.

"I'm sorry." She swallowed back trying to control it. "But you don't have to look so mortified. I think you look cute."

"Cute? I can think of a lot of words to describe it and that isn't one of them." He sighed. "Where the hell did you get this from anyway?"

"Your father." John turned to her, shocked. "Turn it over." The brief note was scrawled in his father's once familiar hand. A hundred different questions came to mind but he was unable to vocalise any of them so he simply turned back to Elizabeth with a confused expression. "I went to see him, to tell him you were MIA in person."

"And…and you survived?" he stuttered, still bewildered.

"I gave as good as I got." That made him smile; he rather liked the idea of Elizabeth giving his father hell but then, how did she come to have this photograph? As if reading his mind, she continued. "My visit didn't go particularly well but a few days later that arrived for me via Washington. So what do you think? An olive branch maybe?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken to him in so long. I've thought about him a lot lately; dreamed about him, about how it was before, when I was just a kid and he still…" He paused, choking on his words and when Elizabeth gripped his hand he didn't pull away. "Um…you know how when you're a kid you think your Dad is the coolest man on the planet? Like every superhero rolled into one? I wanted to be just like him - and then Mom died and it was like he didn't know what to do with me so he just kept pushing me away. I tried so hard to make him proud of me but I couldn't be the person he wanted me to be." He sniffed back tears. "Christ, I'm such a wreck. I'm sorry."

"No need to be. You're not the only one with parental issues, trust me. Sometime I'm going to force you to be my shoulder to cry on while I tell you all about my Dad's utter disappointment in me."

"I can't imagine anyone being disappointed to have a daughter like you." Elizabeth smiled.

"Well, I can't imagine anyone being disappointed to have a son like you." She laughed wryly. "Funny isn't it? Even at our age, all we want is our parents to be proud of us." John looked down at the photograph, studying it carefully. "Perhaps you could write to him."

"Yeah, maybe." He cleared his throat. "So, are you going to report this back to the good doctors?"

"Not if you don't want me to but they're only trying to help, John. We all are." Looking back to the horizon, he squeezed her hand gently.

"I know."

He stayed sitting out on the balcony, surprised he hadn't been dragged back to bed; a nurse had come out to administer his meds but then left him to it. A pale sky and dark ocean both ran out toward a hazy horizon and a million different shades of blue played out in front of him. The photograph felt heavy in his hand; the corners were creased where he had toyed with it. The sound of boots on the tiled floor and a shadow cast against the railings signalled company. Sitting down beside him, the figure didn't speak, just joined him in looking out to sea. They sat in companionable silence for a while before he turned to look at the Satedan.

"So, is it your turn to baby-sit me?"

"They're having a meeting about you. I'm supposed to keep you out of the way."

"Honesty. That makes a nice change."

"I figured you'd work it out anyway." They returned to sitting in silence again for a few moments before Ronon spoke. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" The big man looked a little embarrassed as he gestured toward John's chest.

"Your ribs. When I carried you…I should have been more careful."

"You got me out of there, you big doofus. I'd have died under that mountain if it weren't for you."

"Do you wish you had?" The question knocked the air out of John.

"I'm not suicidal. Is that what they think?" He asked alarmed.

"No. That's not what I meant." Ronan turned to face him straight on. "When I was running there were times when…when I just wanted it all to end. I wanted them to just kill me and get it over with but I kept going because I could fight, I was going to take down as many Wraith as I possibly could."

"Is there a moral to this little tale?" John asked sarcastically. He'd never expected this from Ronon.

"Yes, there is. We're warriors you and I; take away our ability to fight and you take away who we are. So maybe that's what they tried to do to you and maybe you wanted to give up - but you didn't. So don't stop fighting now. If you give up, Kolya's won." Ronon stood up. "Besides, no offence to Caldwell but I'd rather have you giving the orders around here." After slapping a hand on John's back nearly hard enough to knock the wind out of him, Ronon left him alone, sitting staring out to sea feeling slightly bewildered at their conversation.

He didn't know how much time had passed before movement below caught his eye but the sun had sunk further in the sky and his body felt tired and heavy and he knew the time for his next set of meds was approaching by the dull ache building in his chest and hand.

He stood up, leaning forward over the railing to get a better view. They'd been preparing the Daedalus for its return journey all day, personnel coming and going, but now he watched as one by one the flag draped coffins of the dead were carried solemnly out, the pier lined with people paying their respects. No one had told him. He should have been down there but they'd not even told him. He thumped his good hand down on the railing and watched as the photograph slipped from his grip and was swept out across the ocean by the wind.

ooOoo

"John, you cannot be serious." Elizabeth looked at him in disbelief and then to Carson, looking for back-up.

"Aye son, you're still not well," provided the doctor. "You need your rest."

"I know that. I'm not asking you to let me go base jumping; I'll be taking it easy and I'll do everything I'm told but I need to do this."

"John, I know we should have told you about the ceremony but you attended the memorial service and you have had a stressful couple of days." He could see the worry lines on her face but he had to convince her, he had to do this.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not pissed about that, you should have told me and I should have been there but this is not some kind of knee jerk reaction. I've thought long and hard about this and it's the one thing I can do for them. Elizabeth, please." He pleaded, knowing that at the end of the day it would be her choice. "I was their commanding officer, let me take them home. Let me go back to Earth."