A/N: Don't have to say much, just thanks a lot for all the nice reviews, they really keep my fingers typing!

It might be a week until the next chapter, because I'm going to Croatia the day after tomorrow and I'm not sure if I can finish the next chapter before. But I'm getting back on saturday...

Thanks to my beta Kathleen! Couldn't have done it without you!

Three days later

Elizabeth lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was three o'clock in the morning, and she was wide awake, just like she had been every night since she'd regained consciousness.

Carson had reluctantly agreed to release her from the infirmary the morning before, making her promise that she'd take the sleeping pills he had prescribed. The doctor wasn't stupid – he knew how much trouble she was having sleeping, no matter how hard she tried to hide it from him. The problem was that the pills didn't help much. In spite of her exhaustion, she just couldn't get her mind to settle down enough to sleep.

Not as long as John was still lying in the infirmary, teetering on the brink of death.

They had actually hoped he was improving after he'd briefly woken up after the surgery, but his vitals remained the same, and he hadn't regained consciousness again since.

Everybody that had come to visit her since the incident with the imprinting kept telling her that it wasn't her fault, and honestly, she knew that it wasn't. However, it didn't stop her mind from screaming at her every moment that she should have fought harder.

This was one of those nights. She replayed the moment over and over again in her mind, seeing John lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood until she couldn't take it any longer and got up, trying to force the images out of her head.

Elizabeth suddenly felt the urge to do something. The silence in her room was driving her crazy. She knew that only one thing would succeed in making her feel better, but that was exactly the thing she had no power over whatsoever. It was times like these that she envied John or Teyla, because they always seemed to be able to clear their heads by doing exercise. She, on the other hand, had never been a physical person.

Elizabeth had apologised to everybody she had hurt a hundred times over and had even thanked Teyla that her shot wasn't fatal. Elizabeth knew the young Athosian was battling her own inner demons about this.

The only possibility of them all getting back to normal was for John to get better.

Since sleep was out of the question, Elizabeth decided to take a quick shower, get dressed, and head for the infirmary.

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When Elizabeth quietly entered the isolation room occupied by John, she saw Rodney sitting on the only chair in what looked to be an extremely uncomfortable position. His head was slumped over his laptop, and his whole body was leaning dangerously to the right.

If she hadn't come in when she did, he probably would have ended up on the floor.

"Rodney..." she whispered, not wanting to startle him.

"Just ten more minutes, mom," he slurred, his eyes still tightly shut.

"It's me, Elizabeth. You need to wake up now, or you'll be very sore tomorrow." She couldn't help smiling at Rodney calling her 'mom'.

"Yes, yes, yes, I'm awake..." he mumbled, slowly becoming more alert and promptly dropping his laptop in the process. "Shoot!" he immediately picked it up and stroked it carefully, as if it was alive and he was feeling for broken bones.

"Elizabeth?" Rodney rubbed his eyes in disbelief and looked at his watch. "You only left two hours ago. Is something wrong?"

Elizabeth shook her head. They had decided to take shifts at the Colonel's bed the day before, making sure that somebody was always there in case he woke up or…well, she decided to leave it at 'in case he woke up'

"Nothing's wrong… I just couldn't sleep, and you look like you could use some, so why don't we make the best of it and switch. You can get some rest, and I won't be bored," she said cheerfully, but Rodney wasn't easily fooled.

"Elizabeth, you look like you haven't slept in days! Why don't you ask Carson to give you something so you can get some rest? You're no use to Sheppard like this. He's gonna need you alert once he wakes up." Elizabeth was surprised by the honest and sincere concern in Rodney's voice. It was something she hadn't seen Rodney expressing with anybody except John. She wasn't sure whether she should feel embarrassed or honoured.

"Do I really look that bad?"

Rodney nodded. "Can't fool a genius!"

She sighed and stepped closer to John's bed, taking his limp hand into hers. She squeezed it slightly. It was something she always did first; it had almost become a ritual to her. But waiting for a response was in vain. John's hand remained limp.

"You can really go now, Rodney."

McKay hesitated for a second. "You sure you don't want Carson to give you something?"

Elizabeth shook her head again.

"Well, I'm staying, too. I'll just go and tell Carson you're here," he said, expecting Elizabeth to argue, because she knew the doctor would never agree to this, especially not with her sleep-deprived condition.

McKay was already halfway out the door to inform Beckett when she suddenly yelled, "Rodney! Get Carson!"

"I was just on my way to…why?" He just realized something must have happened.

"I think he's waking up!" she said, unable to hide her excitement. She was positive that John had squeezed her hand, and he was now also beginning to toss weakly under the sheets. Elizabeth heard Rodney burst out the door behind her, and she bent down to talk to John in a soothing voice.

"Don't struggle, John. You're in the infirmary. Carson is on his way." She tried her best to calm him down, gently squeezing his hand and stroking his forehead. But as John became more alert, the struggles also increased. She didn't know whether it was from pain or panic.

"Sssshhh, you have to calm down, John," she pleaded, but he seemed oblivious to her voice, now reaching for the ventilator tube.

Elizabeth had the hardest time keeping Sheppard from pulling the tube out or hurting himself, and although it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, it felt like hours before Rodney returned with Carson hot on his heels.

Rodney immediately took over holding John's arms down, and Carson checked the tube for possible damage. When he found nothing wrong with it, he bent down close to his patient's open, unfocused eyes.

"Now listen ta me, lad! I need ya to focus on me! You hear me? Try ta focus yer eyes on me." He knew that talking to him wouldn't do much good, and he'd hate to have to sedate him again. If he got through to him, focusing his attention was their best shot of getting him to stop struggling.

It took several minutes until Sheppard had finally calmed down enough for Rodney to safely release his hands and Carson to begin his examination.

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John Sheppard felt something tug at his hand and wondered why somebody was already in his quarters. He was usually the first one up in the morning, getting ready for his run when the rest of Atlantis was still fast asleep. Why was somebody in his room anyway?

And what was with the pain? Had he trained too hard yesterday, ran too long? He hadn't been this sore since hell week in high school track.

No, something was definitely wrong. The pain was worse than just soreness after exercise, and there was a sharp pain somewhere deep in his stomach.

Did somebody attack him?

John had never felt so confused. He could neither open his eyes nor breathe properly, and he had the feeling that somebody was talking to him, but he couldn't hear what they said.

It was like being trapped, suffocating in your own body. He longed to take a deep breath, and he reached for his mouth, trying to find out what was wrong with it. When something stopped him from moving, he began to panic.

With his luck, he was probably captured by the Wraith, and they were conducting experiments on him.

His head felt like it was going to explode, and though his eyes were open now, the whole room was spinning wildly, making it impossible for him to figure out where he was. There were all kinds of loud noises and different voices, but with time, he managed to concentrate on the only familiar one.

"…..focus…..hear me?..."

He tried, but it took a while until the other noises in the back of his head quieted down and the world started spinning more slowly. John realized that it was Beckett hovering over him, telling him to focus on his voice. That meant he was in the infirmary, which brought him to the conclusion that he must be on the ventilator again. At least it'd explain the choking feeling he couldn't seem to escape, and it sure beat the Wraith-experiment version.

He was so incredibly tired and already drifting back to sleep when Carson shook his shoulder.

"Sorry, son. I need ta examine ya before ya can go back ta sleep," he explained sympathetically.

This day could only get worse! It started with a very bright penlight shining in his eyes, making his headache return with a vengeance. He should really have been prepared for this, but his mind still wasn't working right.

The pain in his stomach flared up again when he felt Beckett poking and prodding him. He would have groaned if it wasn't for the stupid ventilator.

What happened afterwards was blurred into a haze for John. The only thing he remembered before drifting off was the sweet word "morphine", followed by the familiar warmth flowing through his veins that took him back to blissful darkness.