So, Angela, if it wasn't for you we'd have an auto-demoted Lt. Col. on our hands :)

Notes: I know, I know...sorry! Thank you for reading and commenting! Really! It's so nice! Now, let's get on with it, we have a team to reconstruct...eventually...(just a few chapters more, promise!)

Trusted

John sat, his back to the Sancta, pointedly not looking at 'the other body' as it disintegrated. Lokas was puttering around the console, not doing much of anything, which was becoming increasingly intriguing.

"Lokas?"

The older man lifted his head and made an acknowledging sound.

"What's going on?"

Inquiring was not a good look for his interlocutor. It raised those red eyebrows halfway through the narrow forehead and made him look like a clown puppet John had owned as a kid. So much red hair! He'd hated that thing.

"I do not know what you mean…"

"What are we waiting for? Isn't that guard…Jusyta, going to wonder, if it takes too long?"

"Not at all, severance can take a considerable amount of time."

"Shouldn't we be starting?"

"We have." Lokas pointed at John. No, he pointed at the Sancta, behind, and unfortunately, John made the mistake to turn around.

"Oh shit!" He scrambled to his feet, trying to get as far away as possible from the sight before him. He couldn't help it; he vomited what little food he had ingested in the morning. Lokas was by his side, guiding him to the console, helping him sit, putting the Sancta firmly out of view.

"Apologies. I cannot imagine what a sight like this must cause in aggravation." He lifted his head to look in the direction of the device, filled with a pulp that had previously been John Sheppard's body. The pulp encircled the moulded plastic which still held a portion of his face. Only the left side from eye to chin remained, the rest having been sucked away. It was a gruesome sight which left even Lokas, who was somewhat accustomed to this process, quite unbalanced. He truly couldn't fathom how much horror he would feel were it his own body, but could certainly sympathise with the young man. He had seen and experienced so many things he should never have; things that had only resulted in great pain and anguish.

"That's…disturbing."

"Sit. Rest your head against the console."

"Shouldn't…I…be in there?" He just wanted it over and done with. Sitting and brooding could be good on a rainy Sunday afternoon but not here, in the blinding sun. He didn't want to think anymore, it hurt too much. Thoughts of what he'd lost, whom he'd lost. He couldn't go home, it was useless to entertain the notion, but GOD, this hurt like hell and there was nothing he could do. He'd take one of those Wraith bugs over this damn misery any day! His hand went to his neck and he revised his opinion.

"No." Lokas was certainly succinct. Bit less than O'Neill but still, succinct.

"How's that going to work? Don't I need to be in there for the severance?"

"You have been severed."

"I've not. I'd know."

"You do know. You were ill but a moment ago."

"Ok, you lost me. What's going on?"

"Life is not about retribution…a life for a life is a ridiculous notion that was held by my people for a time and I am saddened to say, it has come to haunt us once more. Life is to be valued, not discarded and I value yours as much as mine, John Sheppard."

"Ah…what?"

"You will not be severed today. If you are wise and stay away from Atle, you never will be."

"You're…letting me go?"

"You will be amongst your people within the day."

"Not that I'm complaining, but what about Oblee?"

Lokas paced in front of him. "As I have said, life is not about retribution. Your severance will not bring her back." He came to a standstill and turned to John. "Tell me, would you have taken her life?"

He thought about that for some time before answering honestly. "No. She was a good woman. A bit blinded by desperation, but good." Oh, the politically correctness of that statement! It would've made Elizabeth squeal in delight. That is, if Elizabeth would ever allow herself the indignity of squealing.

"Not unlike her, you are a good man. I bore ill will toward neither you nor your people. I am devastated by my sister's death, but had she not died that day, she would have been severed and I would have lost her just as effectively."

Flabbergasted would be a fitting word to describe how John felt at that precise moment. He was deeply impressed by the older man. "I. I don't…what about revenge?"

"Useless sentiment."

"I'm going home? Today?" Hope springs eternal right? If he didn't, his body sure believed it as some of the tension he had been feeling eased right out of his strung muscles.

"You are, assuming all goes according to prediction."

"Predictions?" That didn't sound good. Somewhat like McKay assuring you his plan would definitely work without the sneering. If you doubted the value of a good, workable plan, he'd rip your head off, but sometimes…sometimes, he wasn't so sure and would simply try to reassure you. At this moment, John's stomach decided this was the same thing and sunk.

"Loyalties can easily falter. I am predicting that the man I trust to complete this plan is in fact loyal to me. Please, do not concern yourself with such matters. I will need you to enter the Sancta."

Oh, it was too good to be true. Of course, Lokas hadn't been able to resist playing a cruel prank on the man who had basically killed his sister. John had always thought himself a good judge of character but obviously, it was yet another thing he had falsely believed. "This sucks big time!"

He was on the verge of tears again and how pathetic was that? He was a grown man, an Air Force Lieutenant Colonel damn it! He was not going to cry because, for one precious minute, he had thought he would be allowed to go back home. Stupid! He didn't cry, not now, not ever!

He sighed and nodded. Lokas moved to stand beside the console. "You will need to undress."

"Right. Should be used to it by now."

Undressed, he stepped into the Sancta and felt the clear material mould itself to him. Eager for life's last cruel twist to end, he closed his eyes and wished for death.

Conveniently enough…

…he didn't die this time either.

It took but a moment and he was released. Taken by surprise, John fell forward, too slow to avoid his nose from colliding roughly with the ground. Lokas was at his side, helping him up.

"You're letting me go!"

"I have informed you of this fact."

"I know. I just…" He looked back at the Sancta which had held him for a few minutes and attempted to suppress his grin. In combat with Death, he always came victorious!

"You thought I had lied."

"Yeah." He grinned sheepishly, wondering why he felt so comfortable with Lokas, a man he barely knew. Why did he feel safe to simply be?

"It is quite understandable; you have been given so few opportunities to trust my people and me." He clasped John's hand between his and looked at him earnestly. "I wish it to change. Sit with me a moment. It is time I help you redirect your thoughts."

"My thoughts?"

"You wished for death to claim you…often…have you not?"

His face told of the doubt he carried within so well that John wasn't given a chance to answer; Lokas simply tugged slightly on his arm and encouraged him to follow.

"I know…let me explain."

"Yeah, ok, but, ah, Lokas…you think I could get my clothes back?"

Lokas laughed and shook his head. "I am afraid you are within the veil, it is customary to go as freely as the day you were born for fifteen suns."

"As long as it lets UV rays through. I'll be able to work on my tan" His grin was closely followed by a shrug, in response to Lokas' blank look. He followed the man away from the circle of Sanctas, thinking he had to start adapting his witty retorts for this galaxy.