She swirled her tea around in the cup. "Wish I was a tea leaf reader." She checked her watch- again. Only five minutes had ticked off since she last checked it. Four little hours had passed since the ship took off from M71-900. Three hours had gone by since they contacted the Daedalus and sent it all the data they had. Nothing. It was a long shot at best.
"Maybe someone brought an Ouija board."
Weir turned in her seat to face Carson. He sat down next to her. "I can just imagine the reaction if I requested that on the P. A. I think that all those who doubt my leadership would have a good reason."
"Aye, but then we could ask it who we're going to marry and if so and so likes us." Carson seemed to consider it a bit longer. "Maybe it could also tell me the whereabouts of my stethoscope; I'm on my fourth one now."
Elizabeth emptied her cup. "Maybe we're infested with gremlins. I'm on my third batch of pens this week."
"You're probably right, gremlins." He took a sip of his own tea.
The warning klaxon sounded interrupting anymore conversation.
"Dr. Weir…"
"On my way!" She rose from the table.
"I have a feeling; we won't need that Ouija board," said Carson as he followed her out of the mess.
They exited the transporter and made their way to the Control Room.
"A ship," began Zelenka, "just appeared in orbit. No hyperspace window or any indication of how it arrived." He rushed to another console. "The readings match those we recorded from the Great Ship. It remains in a very high orbit."
P90s clicking on the Gate room floor shifted everyone's attention.
"I did not want the Solar Tempest to disrupt all of your systems again."
Weir looked over the balcony with everyone else. The P90s were aimed at a very tall woman with the strangest skin. With her were: McKay who was being held up by the woman; Teyla; a little man helping Teyla; Ronon; and finally, Sheppard who was supported by Ronon. Everyone, but the woman, sat down on the floor. Sheppard slumped against Ronon most likely unconscious. Teyla allowed Rodney to lean against her.
"Medical team to the Gate Room," whispered Carson into his ear piece. "Remain in the corridor outside until I tell you different."
"I am Moab. I believe these belong to you, Dr. Weir," she said with a sparkle in her coal black eyes while gesturing to everyone on the floor. "Except for Mayor of the Thack'eeryn, he belongs to others."
Mayor waved.
"Thank you for bringing them home," replied Weir as she descended the staircase. She was not quite sure what to say next.
"Mayor wishes to contact his people. I told him that would be better for you to do." She looked up at the balcony. "Yes Dr. Beckett, you and your staff can take them to your infirmary. I did everything I could on the ship, but I know you will want to check them out for yourself." She stepped away from the group; the P90s followed her.
"You might as well put those down; you couldn't stop her if you tried," stated Ronon. "Believe me; if she wanted to harm you, you wouldn't have a chance."
The security detail looked at Weir and she shook her head. "Forgive us for being suspicious Ronon, but I think the P90s will stay where they are."
"Whatever." Ronon shifted Sheppard to lie down on the floor. "She's a friendly by the way."
Moab nodded in appreciation at Ronon. "I will be leaving; reunions to coordinate, loved ones to mourn," Moab said while turning a faint pink. "I have already explained to Mayor of the Thack'eeryn that the Solar Tempest cannot go back. He understands. He will relay the message to his people."
Weir could not help but stare at the chameleon change in the skin. She averted her eyes to the crew on the floor. They looked tired and haggard. There was something more though. A profound sense of distress hung over them. Plus, the remnants of gory silly string that hung throughout Ronon's hair and clothes, the grime that covered the others, and the scorched look that blackened Sheppard's clothes, suggested they had been in a fight. Otherwise, they looked healthy. The clattering of gurneys in the hallway outside distracted her.
When she looked back, Moab was addressing the room.
"I'll let them inform you of their time on the ship. You have a few less Wraith to worry about."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. Now, that was an interesting piece of news.
"Dr. Weir, can the medical team enter?" Carson called down to her.
Weir faced the balcony, "Yes Carson, send them in." Her attention returned to the team when Moab began to speak again.
"Ronon, Dr. McKay has a question nipping around the edges of his mind. When he asks it…the answer is: freewill." She began walking backwards towards the Gate. "It is time for the Solar Tempest to return to the Plein for some much needed healing time of her own. Maybe our paths will cross again."
The clattering of gurneys in the Gate Room distracted Weir.
"Shit! Where she'd go?" said one of the security officers. "She walked right through the window."
Weir turned back around. Her team and Mayor were the only ones left.
"She just walked off." The soldier stepped forward to the place where Moab disappeared.
"Dr. Weir!" Radek yelled from the control balcony. "The ship is gone."
She looked at Ronon who seemed the only one lucid enough to talk.
"Places to go, people to see," he said as the medical personnel swooped down on them.
----------------
"It is as if I am in the same place as when he died." Teyla felt frustrated. Her feelings about that day were not receding. "When the Wraith spy was here, the constant gnawing wore me down physically and emotionally. This is very similar."
Heightmeyer nodded back. "How did you handle his death the first time?"
"I had my family and friends: Charin, my father, others."
"Can't you do the same? Your team, aren't they a surrogate family?"
Teyla looked past Heightmeyer to the wall behind her. "They are dealing with their own demons and do not need mine to add to the list."
"Did you think that maybe all of your demons are related? Don't you think they would be the best to understand, especially Col. Sheppard?"
Teyla felt her hands tighten. "I do not know. They are not the most expressive group about this type of thing. They are very private."
"But, if you open the door, maybe they'll be more receptive. It might be one sided at first, but it might just be the kick start they need. You also have your people to fall back on, correct?"
"Of course, I will be heading to the mainland tomorrow. I look forward to seeing Halling; he knew Rel quite well." She contemplated his reaction to bringing up her intended. "He will sit with me and reminisce. But, my team needs more. The Colonel has retreated and avoided everyone."
All they saw, for their two days in the infirmary, was his back. He hardly talked to, acknowledged or looked at any of them. He presented his stripped down verbal report to Dr. Weir, nothing else. No one pressed either.
Rodney was even strangely quiet. He delivered his laundry list of injuries to a flabbergasted Dr. Beckett and Dr. Weir. She thought he even enjoyed it. Afterwards, he kept to himself keeping his complaining to a minimum. When Ronon was released, he kept a restless presence in the infirmary. The silent predatory stalk near the unused equipment unnerved some of the staff. The whole situation felt strained and estranged. They were not acting themselves.
"Yes, I noticed that even during our sessions. I have an idea if you're amenable to it."
Teyla nodded for her to go on.
"A joint session with you two. Not a- this is what happened in my illusion- but a support session." Heightmeyer gave a small, meaningful laugh. "He had the very same look on his face. Just think about it. No details unless you both want, a discussion only."
"I will think about it." Teyla stood up and smiled. "Thank you Dr. Heightmeyer." No sooner had she left the room, she activated her earpiece. "Control Room, this is Teyla. Where is Col. Sheppard?"
She waited for the reply. She knew the Colonel felt embarrassed for his breakdown in the ship's medical facility. Hers had come after Dr. Beckett released her to her quarters. Halling carrying Rel through the Ancestral Ring instead of the grain replayed over and over. It did not matter if she was awake, asleep or somewhere in between. Somehow, she needed to re-release that day. She was sure Sheppard needed the same thing.
Her other nightmares included her clutching her dead team leader while Wraith leered at her and pulled on him. They kept sneering and bombarding her with mental images of what they were going to do to him. She had gone over this with Heightmeyer, but it was not the same. She needed to talk to her team. They needed to exorcise those demons together.
Whether Col. Sheppard wanted to do the double session or not, was moot; she needed to talk to him. They endured too much not to.
"He's on the East Pier. Is everything alright Teyla?" Dr. Weir's voice answered her instead of the technician.
"I will let you know."
-------------------
Mortified. Yeah, that was the only way to describe his feelings upon awakening on the ship. Anyway you put it; he was fucking crying, weeping, bawling, shedding tears in front of his team. Poor little Johnny had a bad dream. God.
Mor-ti-fied. No guy should ever cry in front of anyone else; unless he's watching Field of Dreams. Hello, a game of catch, Ray played catch with his dead dad. How could you not cry at everything that represented? Or at the very least, get all teary eyed?
On one level, he understood that it was nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, he thought for a moment his legs had been blown off. Then, he was pretty confused about exactly where he was or when he was. His confused state caused the unmanly, and if he was completely honest with himself, necessary breakdown. Who could stand up to that kind of reminder or pressure? He had to admit, he felt better. Problem was: it still felt like Louisa had just stepped into that bathroom. He was having a hard time reconciling it had been 14 years.
It mired him down. He did not have a memory of anything after his faked helicopter crash until his sob fest. His body and brain were defunct. For allowing that to happen, he wanted to give Orodi a Chuck Norris, roundhouse kick to that skinned watermelon he called a head. He might want to include a Gallagher and sledge hammer skit as well. Bits of melon splattering everywhere...yeah, he could have found some plastic somewhere.
Orodi's illness was long reaching. Not only had he dragged him down, he dragged Teyla along for the ride too. The fact Orodi was dead did not ease any of the anger. Moreover, revenge could not fix the problem at hand. Only time could do that. Lots of it.
Teyla was not the only one affected of course. Killing Ronon and Mayor pissed him off. What was Mayor going to do, bite him in the knee caps? Ronon on the other hand…John smirked at what he read in the report about his fight with the Wraith. Damn.
This left the last member of his team. Do not even get him started on Rodney. The idiot member of MENSA voluntarily sat in that Lazy Boy from Hellraiser's living room. Even if it was Moab's request; even if it was the last line of defense; even if she did not let him stay in it for very long; even if it was necessary; his highly valuable ass should never have been anywhere near it-period.
He looked up at the blue sky and felt the nice breeze blow across his face. They were a great booster shot. Looking at the gleaming spires and towers of Atlantis also worked a magical, calming effect. However, lying on Daedalus' landing pad was not necessarily the smartest place to do it. Well, he could have been a member of MENSA too. He was glad they were not due back for another ten hours. They had been side tracked by a tantalizing energy reading that turned out to be nothing more than exuberant solar flares from a binary system. Still, better not fall asleep just to be on the safe side- no need to end up landing pad pizza because they were in a pissy mood.
He lay on his back with his arms under his head and legs crossed at the ankles. He stared off into the blue.
"Colonel Sheppard?"
Cerulean blue is as gentle as a summer breeze, he sighed silently. He did not even hear her approach. He needed to outfit her with bells.
"Hey Teyla, pull up a piece of decking," he offered without looking at her.
"John, I need your help."
He sat up on his elbows and gave her a suspicious look. "Been talking to Heightmeyer, haven't you?"
"You know I have." She sat down next to him.
"Teyla, I'm tired of having other people in my head. No offense, but I don't think I can handle both of us sitting there sharing the good times while she takes notes and asks her helpful questions." He sat up all the way. "I'm still trying to sort everything out."
"As am I. It is just; I need someone else who understands."
Damn it, she caught him shirking his responsibilities as team leader. It was time to stop hiding and do his job as that leader and friend.
"Do you want to make the appointment or shall I?" he asked hanging his head in defeat.
"I do not think that is necessary. As you said, I am also tired of others being in my head."
Now, there was a touch of guilt. He had only Pinky in his head; she had the fucking Wraith messing around in there too. Not to mention a morbid game of tug-o'-war with his body while they were messing with her. Oh yeah, she knew how to elicit guilt.
Footfalls on the metal decking of Atlantis made them both look at the pair crossing the expanse towards them.
"What a coincidence," muttered Sheppard.
"Not at all. I wanted them here too. And, since this place is deserted until the Daedalus arrives, I figured we will not be interrupted," said Teyla completely ignoring the sarcasm.
"Holy crap! Is that Sheppard's face?" Rodney yelled.
Sheppard answered by rolling his eyes and shouting back, "Nice haircut McKay!"
"You're one to talk!" He returned.
Both of them had to have an inch removed due to charring.
"Well, if we're going to do this, let's get it over with." Sheppard let his shoulders sag and prepared himself for the grilling. This just might be the fourth time.
Wonderful.
----------------
A/N: Sorry Isaac for misspelling your name. Please don't spit in my drink because you mix a mean White Russian. The captain has informed me this is the next to last port of call. By the way, has anyone else noticed that a prerequisite for being a captain is a balding pate? Picard, Stubing, Caldwell, Cisco (his he did to himself, but still). Well, never mind…one to go. It's being a beast.