A/N: John liiiiiives! I mean... John's awaaaaake! I wasn't very fond of this chapter. I mean it's okay and all, but it was giving me grief. Oh well.

Ch. 22

Eyes Wide Open

Feeling was always first to return. Feeling of warmth and softness, accompanied by the sound of steady beeps going to the rhythm of his sleep lethargic heart. It was the beeping that had John releasing a shuddering breath of relief, and forcing his eyelids to pull apart against the sticky film holding them together. He blinked the haze and dryness away until the familiar shapes of the infirmary had him shuddering another sigh.

The joy of the familiar reality around him had his eyes burning with tears. What the hell, he blinked and let them fall. This was a relief too big to hold back. It made his body numb, and the fingers of one hand dig into the sheet covering the mattress.

He was home.

Wanting to see more, John struggled to sit up but could only manage making it to his elbows, which was going to be a short-lived effort from the way his arms shook. He continued to blink, and looked around in that groggy way of one who'd woken up a little too soon. In fact, he would have dropped back and returned to his perpetual dream state, except there was a gnawing ache in his stomach that wouldn't let him.

He was hungry.

John's roving eyes landed on Carson's hunched form hovering about a table, peering into a microscope. When John's arms ached, he carefully lowered himself back onto the bed, eyes still fixed on Carson. John opened his mouth to call out, only to have the words get stuck in his desert-dry throat. An attempted swallow made his throat burn, issuing a cough that had Carson visibly tensing then bolting around in alarm.

" John?" Carson hurried over to the bed and immediately raised the head to have John upright enough to receive a cup of water. John took it but Carson held on to prevent John from downing it in a single swallow.

Water always had a funny taste thanks to morning breath. Carson kept the cup at an angle so that John was only able to take small sips.

" Easy does it, lad," Beckett said. The cup hadn't been that full, and even sips went fast. When done, Carson set the cup aside on the small tray, then leaned in toward John to study his face.

The proximity was unnerving. John involuntarily pushed back against the pillow to put in more space.

" How ya feelin', lad?" Carson asked

John cleared his moistened throat. " H-hungry," he rasped below a whisper. The infirmary was quiet enough for Carson to catch it. He nodded in understanding.

" Aye, no surprise there. Feedin' tubes never are fillin'. I'll have some soup brought up for ya when you're more awake. You feelin' any pain?"

John actually had to think about that for a moment. Relief had blocked out all other sensations, but now that relief had been reined in a bit, he became aware of an uncomfortable throb in his head, and soreness in just about every muscle he had.

" Nothing major," he hoarsely replied. " Sore."

Beckett smiled. " No surprises there, either. I would suspect your body to be a mite protestin' from being immobile for three days."

John blinked in confusion. " Th-three days?"

" Aye, more like three and a half. Nothin' to be concerned about. Complete exhaustion can do that to a body, and your body needed all the rest it could get. Glad to see you've finally had enough, though." Beckett took his stethoscope from around his neck and placed it in his ears. He pulled the blankets from John's chest and placed the listening end of the scope over his heart. " You've had us all a wee bit anxious." He moved the scope to John's left flank. " Breathe in. You had quite the wounds on you."

John, swallowing, took in as steady and deep a breath as he could. His eyes flicked to the table cluttered in microscopes, viles, petri dishes, syringes, and other laboratory paraphernalia.

Carson moved the scope over to John's right flank. " Breathe again. Folk have been waitin' a while to talk to ya."

I bet. John couldn't look away from the table. One vile appeared to contain red blood, the other something black. He shuddered, and the heart monitor picked up speed.

Beckett's stethoscope slid back to John's heart. The good doctor's brow wrinkled in thoughtful concern.

" You all right, Colonel?"

John nodded stiffly and looked away. " Yeah, I'm fine. Just... hungry."

Carson plucked the scope from his ears and draped it back around his neck. " Right, soup it is then. I think Kaylee should be in the mess. I'll have her bring you up a bowl." He lightly patted John's shoulder before turning away to head back to the table. On the way he tapped the radio at his ear and relayed instructions to the nurse.

" I'll also need to be changin' the bandages," Carson said on reaching the table. He began gathering items back into containers or onto shelves, cleaning up. " I must say, you've been healin' quite well over the past three days. Showin' some quick improvement..."

John closed his eyes, but with no intentions of drifting back to sleep.

Crap, he's tip-toeing. John opened his eyes. The monitor was still going fast, and his breathing was joining it. Suddenly the relief of being home became like a dream memory, and the infirmary was starting to feel smaller in area. He began twisting the edge of the blankets in the fingers of his un-casted hand.

Carson continued, still cleaning. " Both the cuts and the bones..."

" It's not dangerous!" John blurted.

Carson turned his head. " What?"

This is what animals in cages must feel like. John's heart was pulsating faster, and a clammy sweat was filming all over his bare skin, absorbing every milligram of cold air and making him shiver. John took a deep, unsteady breath in a weak attempt to steady vibrating nerves.

" It's not dangerous." John looked down at his hand twisting and weaving the blanket through trembling fingers. " Whatever – you know – you, um... found – in me. It's not dangerous." He looked up and over at Carson, imploringly, even desperately, but like he cared. He needed Carson – everyone in the long run, but for now mostly Carson - to understand.

" I swear it's not dangerous. Not to me, not to you, not to anyone."

Carson finished the turn to regard John with a combination of wariness, concern, and full-out curiosity. " What, exactly, is it, John? What is it I've been seein' in your blood for the past three days?"

John coughed, cleared his throat, and looked everywhere except at Beckett. He was scared to hell, the kind of fear he recalled feeling as a kid after having done something against the rules and being caught. Every fiber of John's being was absolutely certain that Carson was going to be furious after hearing what John would say. Then he would tell Weir, and Weir would join in the anger fest. Why? Because what John had done – to himself – was, had been, insane, stupid, dangerous, and something neither one would have ever condoned, not after what had happened after the wraith girl had bitten him. The only difference between then and now was that now, it was all about choice – the choice to take the serum, and the choice to take on the skin of something completely inhuman.

They would be angry, and underneath that they would be scared. Trust would be completely thrown out the window, never to come back. And, in the name of precaution, they would...

" Nothing dangerous, doc. It's nothing dangerous."

" Aye, you've said that."

John struggled into a more upright position, only to be leaning forward with hands gripping the rails for support. Becket hurried over to him and placed both hands on the Colonel's shoulders, applying pressure, urging the man to lay back down.

John grunted when individual flares of pain rippled from his chest, back, and arms. The pain forced him to relinquish to Beckett's guidance, and let himself be eased back against the bed.

" Easy lad, easy. It's all right. Bloody hell, if you say it's not dangerous then I'm very inclined to believe ya seein' as how you know more about it than me at the moment."

John looked nervously up into Beckett's face, and saw only worry.

Beckett squeezed John's shoulder. " You don't have to be afraid, lad. Not if it's no danger. I'm just curious to know what was done to ya."

John cringed. " Nothing was done to me. I – I did it to myself."

Carson's brow bunched into deeper worry lines. " What? What do ya mean? Son, I don't even know what it is that was done, remember?"

John squirmed. " It's a long story."

" Just give me the gist."

John inhaled slowly, and exhaled slowly. " In order to help out a friend, I – um... Okay, there was this scientist, a geneticist. She made this – serum – I guess you can call it. I mean that's what we've been calling it. It's... hard to explain. It let's you turn into things, become things..." John tilted his head back and rolled his eyes. " For crying out loud, it's a freakin' were-wolf potion! You take it in three parts and you... you... you turn into a damn monster! Your choice of form, any time, anywhere. No full moon necessary. It's all up to you. That's what you're seeing in me, my blood – that serum. But I swear, doc, on my life, on Atlantis, it's not dangerous. It isn't an iratus mutation. In fact, it goes away after a couple of weeks. I won't be this way forever. You've gotta believe me."

Worry was gone, and uncertain shock took over. Carson just stared at John for seconds that felt more like five minutes each. John cringed again as flashes of his brief iratus mutation moments shot like lightening in and out of his skull; the things he had done, the people he had hurt – nearly killed. He couldn't fault anyone – Beckett - Weir especially – if security was called in, or the order issued to have John locked in the brig until this passed.

The prospect of it was what scared John. Normalcy was going to be hard pressed to come by, he knew that, but normalcy didn't even matter. There was going to be trust issues, and he didn't want that. He didn't want to see the shadow of iratus mutation memories visible on every face he saw. And he sure as hell didn't want to be locked up, caged, treated like an animal, like a monster, not when there was no reason for it.

" Change?" Carson said at last. " You can... change?"

" Yeah, my form. But by choice doc, by choice. And it's still me in the body. Nothing takes over, I promise, it's still me, you've gotta believe me..."

Carson's features softened into concern, then back into worry as it clearly and fully dawned on him what it was he was seeing in John's face, and hearing in the tight tone.

" Oh, bloody hell, John, I do believe you lad, I do. It's all right, no one's gonna do anythin' to ya..."

" Until you tell everyone else," John shot back, panting, eyes going to the infirmary door.

" We wouldn't, John. Not if there's no reason to. Look, tell me as much as ya can as best you can, and I'll have a talk with the others, explain it to them. They'll understand. You've no need to worry." Carson adjust the blankets back over John's chest as though the source for his shivering was from cold – which wasn't far from the truth. " Ya need to relax, John. This kind of stress won't do ya a lick of good."

John nodded, but stopping the body from trembling wasn't like flicking a switch. His fear wasn't exaggerated. There would be trust issues, and potential problems that could launch him into critter mode, shattering that fragile trust and having everyone looking over their shoulders for him.

Being locked up – he knew Elizabeth wouldn't jump straight to that. The fear of it, however, weighed on him the heaviest, but in a way that was different from the rest of his fears. This one was more raw, almost irrational, and at the forefront though he knew good and well it would be seen by the others only as a last resort. John chalked it up to the animal DNA cocktail that made up most of the serum. It was a universal fear after all; being cornered, trapped, vulnerable to predators.

Lucky for John, the fear wasn't quite up to the level of animal hysterics. Though he was pretty certain that if the words 'restraint', 'quarantine', or 'lock-up' were mentioned, he'd be making himself scarce in a heartbeat.

The infirmary doors slid open, and John – in his frazzled state of mind – jumped. Kaylee entered carrying a tray with a bowl of soup heavy with the scent of chicken. She gave John a quick smile on setting the tray on the small table.

" Glad to see you awake, Colonel," she said. She then looked at Beckett. " Need anything else, Dr. Beckett?"

Carson shook his head. " No, love. That'll be all for now. Could you give us a moment? I need to talk to the Colonel in private."

Kaylee, still all warm smiles, nodded once. " Sure." Then she headed back out.

Carson pushed the tray within John's reach, then turned and grabbed the nearest stool, yanking it forward and plopping down.

John's mouth filled with more saliva than he could manage, and some of it leaked from the corner of his mouth.

" Now then..." Carson began. John didn't hear the rest. He twisted to the side, snatched the spoon, and hunched over the bowl while shoveling broth into his mouth.

" Huh," Carson said. " Now that's a first."

SGASGASGASGA

Weir was practically running through the Atlantis corridors, negotiating the maze that had ingrained itself into her memory both conscious and subconscious. She moved fast in urgency and to avoid anyone she passed who was inclined to stop her for some mundane reason, and slow her arrival to the infirmary.

Even running, the halls seemed particularly long today. Time never did play favorites, and Beckett's news over the radio concerning John being awake had made time extra sluggish. Reaching the infirmary was taking unnaturally long.

Then she was there, halting to a stop rather than just slowing on seeing Becket outside the infirmary, leaning with his back against the wall and arms folded like a man who'd stepped out for a smoke – except, of course, that Carson didn't smoke.

Elizabeth quickly composed herself by smoothing out her red shirt, then clasping her hands behind her back for a more dignified approach. That approach had Carson straightening, yet his arms remained across his chest, and his expression - to Elizabeth's concern – was unreadable. That usually wasn't the case with Carson. Normally, he was either worried, or relieved when it came to news on a patient.

Elizabeth gave Carson a quizzical look. " Dr. Beckett? Is everything all right? Why aren't you inside with John?"

" I wanted to speak with ya privately before you went in," Carson replied.

Elizabeth didn't know whether she should have felt irritated, worried, or nervous – though nervous seemed to be winning out. Beckett wasn't acting exactly guarded, but his posture spoke of hesitancy. He might have been unreadable in the face, yet the Scottish doctor was tense in body. Elizabeth gave him one of her both questioning and stern askance glances.

" About what? Is John all right?"

Carson nodded. " He's awake, and just downed a bowl of soup. It's about what I found in his blood."

Elizabeth lifted both eyebrows at that. " What?"

" It's not dangerous."

She lowered her brows into a furrow. " O – kay? I suppose that's good news. If it can be explained in terms I can understand, how did you figure it out?"

" John told me – over and over again."

Elizabeth hadn't seen that coming. " Oh. So... I take it he knows what it is."

" He'd better, he's the one who injected himself with it after all."

Elizabeth's whole body flinched with a start of alarm. " What?"

Carson uncrossed his arms to place his hands on his hips, then sighed heavily. " From what he's been able to tell me as far as he can understand, it's a serum that alters the genetic structure enough for the body to take on another form. He calls it the were-wolf serum, I'm callin' it the changlin' serum. Made him an honest to goodness bleedin' shape-shifter of some kind. One form only shape-shiftin', but he can change his physical structure at will. That's what it is I've been seein' in the blood, that serum. But John was quite adamant that it was harmless, that he can change when he wants, and it's still him in the form he takes."

Had Elizabeth's jaw not been hooked to her face, it would have fallen to the floor. She'd heard Carson right – a shape-shifting serum – but her mind was being slow to process through the mire of shock coating it.

Two things finally pushed through that mire – not dangerous, and John.

" So... then... He's... He's all right? It's not harming him in any way?"

Carson shrugged. " Colonel Sheppard was quite insistent that it wasn't." He glanced about, passing his gaze all around the empty corridor. A techy walked by, and Carson waited until he passed before leaning in and speaking with a lowered voice. " But he's bleedin' terrified."

Elizabeth's eyes darted to and from the infirmary doors, as though she might have been able to see through them to John. " Of what?"

Carson continued to talk in an undertone. " You, me, the whole bloody lot of us. He's afraid of the reactions that he's certain'll occur, considerin' his close call with the iratus mutation and all. I see where he's comin' from, but to tell you the truth, I've never seen him this scared. I'm thinkin' the serum's got somethin' to do with it, given him instincts as well as heightened abilities, forcing extra caution to the point of near paranoia. Plus with all he's been through... He's bloody spooked. Now, I'm not Heightmeyer, but I can tell ya now you'd better handle all this with care, get it through people's heads that what's in John isn't a threat, and get it through John's head that we've no intention of doin' anythin' to him, lockin' him up or otherwise."

Elizabeth's eyes did another flicker to and from the door. She was getting anxious, impatient, to see John. She wouldn't hold it past Caldwell to react overly protective and suggest some sort of quarantine on John. But there was no way she was going to allow John to think that she would ever consider something along those lines.

But she was uneasy, uncertain. John's near mutation was behind her, not forgotten, and sometimes it had a way of slinking to the forefront of her thoughts.

" Can I see him?" she asked, looking back to the door.

" Aye. Just keep in mind what I said. I know you'll be needin' to tell the others, and they need to be aware."

Carson led the way into the infirmary, and Elizabeth followed. John was situated toward the back of the infirmary for more privacy. On approaching him, the first thing to jolt her was the fact that his eyes were open, and not even trying to attempt hiding any trepidation. Frightened, tired eyes surrounded by shadows, set in a thin, pale face, with a thin, pale body striped in gauze bandages – Elizabeth probably wouldn't have recognized him if it hadn't been for the dark, mussed hair. Granted he wasn't as bad as when he had returned from the Cyladrans, but there was still a kind of frailty about him, a lack of his usual strength that pricked hard at Elizabeth's heart and made her throat ache. He was staring off to the left with the scabbed fingers of his unbound hand fiddling with the topmost blanket.

A spooked John. That could be dangerous, especially in light of his new found, particularly hazardous ability to change his form at will. Elizabeth couldn't believe she was thinking it, and despised herself for doing so. She focused on John as he was now, his physical state, which made him look, pretty much, absolutely harmless. It practically man-handled her unease right out the door, enabling her to plaster on a more genuine smile that conveyed her genuine relief and gladness to see John on the mend.

" Hey there," she said. John flinched and jerked his head around. For a moment that was less than a second, Elizabeth caught the tremulous wave of fear that passed through his gaze. It went fast to be followed by a deflation of the body as most of the tension left it. John smiled back, and a spark of himself glinted from his eyes.

" Hey back." He looked passed her. " Wow. Thought there'd be more than this. That's usually the song and dance."

Elizabeth, placing her hands on the bed rail, shrugged. " Carson thought it best to keep the visits to a minimum. Didn't want you overtaxed or anything."

John nodded. " I kind of guessed as much." His smile turned into a smirk. " Bet you thought I'd spend the whole week sleeping."

Weir, still smiling, narrowed her eyes. " I wouldn't put it passed you. To tell you the truth, I was kind of jealous. I wouldn't mind a week of sleep myself. How're you feeling?"

" Better, but that could just be the pain meds talking."

Small talk, pleasantries, skirting from the point as far away as possible, but Elizabeth didn't care. They would skirt the matter for as long as they wanted – or for as long as John wanted. Elizabeth was content just to see him smiling, and letting the small, brief bubble of normalcy surround them, even if it was imaginary.

Except that John wasn't relaxed. Some tension had left, not all, and its residue was lingering in John's lifted shoulders, in the lines of his face, and behind his eyes. It was being held back by Elizabeth's show of relaxation. If what Carson had said was true, and the serum enhanced instinct, then as long as Elizabeth was calm, then John would be calm.

Small talk couldn't go on forever, and the bubble popped when John looked away, down at his perpetual motion fingers, and cleared his throat.

" Um... I suppose... You have some questions..."

Elizabeth rested her hand on his shoulder. " Carson already explained. So no, not really."

John's smile faded, as did the spark. " There's the question concerning what happened."

" Well, that can wait. Whether or not you were okay was the immediate question, John. Everything else we can put aside until you're ready."

Elizabeth felt the muscles beneath the cool skin of the shoulder pull until they became solid as rock. John's whole body went rigid, while beside Elizabeth the heart monitor started climbing in rapidity.

Elizabeth's own heart was trying to match it speed for speed. Rising fear tried to have her snatch her hand away, but she kept it locked firmly in place.

A spooked Elizabeth makes a spooked John worse. She gripped his shoulder enough to keep him aware of her presence. " John?"

John shook his head. " No. It can't wait. Too dangerous. Bring everyone in here. Caldwell, Lorne, my team. They need to know. Everyone needs to know..." John attempted sitting up, only to have the ever-present and quick acting Beckett aid Elizabeth in easing him back onto the pillow as John kept babbling about having everyone present.

Carson shook his head in that hard, no argument way of his. " Lad, you've barely woken up. You're still weak, drained, and I'll not have all my hard work go down the drain from you gettin' worked up by the million questions I'm pretty sure Rodney and Col. Caldwell are goin' to throw at you. Not to mention having so many in the room at once. Ya say what ya have to say to us. You know we're good listeners. We'll pass it on to the rest for ya."

John looked up at both Beckett and Weir, at first sheepishly, then nervously, followed by fearfully, and finally helplessly. It was like Elizabeth's heart was made of glass, and the expressions she saw were the rocks. Beckett's use of the word 'terrified' had been no understatement. Elizabeth moved her hand from the shoulder to the fidgeting hand, clasping it and stilling it from constant motion to small tremors.

" Go ahead, John," Elizabeth urged.

John seemed to shrink, and Elizabeth realized he was cringing. " You're going to be pissed," he said. Then Elizabeth witnessed a change in the man's demeanor that startled her. John shifted out of abashment, and his eyes hardened into steel. " But I did what I had to do..."

SGASGASGASGA

" He what!" McKay all but screamed. Elizabeth closed her eyes to gather her patience, then slid them back open. Standing with her arms folded before the conference table normally had a way of commanding absolute authority to the point that everyone knew better than to interrupt her. At the moment, however, she didn't feel all that imposing, mostly because she was still reeling, picking over the horror story John had told her not twenty minutes ago.

She had done the retelling to the best of her ability, and it felt inadequate.

" Rodney, please," Elizabeth flatly said. " He knew what he was doing..."

" At the time," McKay snapped. " Come on, Elizabeth, he told a complete stranger about Atlantis... and mutated himself!"

" She was not a complete stranger to him," Teyla interjected. " He spent a month's time with her. She must have earned much trust from him if he told her that Atlantis was still safe."

" But he told with the intention of bringing her here," Caldwell countered. " But failed to bring her."

Weir flinched. 'Failed' sounded so harsh, and from what John had said – in Elizabeth's opinion – his goal had not failed, it was simply incomplete.

Caldwell continued. " If this girl survived, that makes her a security risk."

Weir nodded. " Which is exactly why I wish to send a team back to Sriot to look for this girl and bring her here. Hopefully, this Diavante John spoke of hasn't found her yet."

" I wouldn't hold out to that hope if I were you," Rodney said. " Not if this Diavante guy really is some mind-reading Ancient. The girl's probably already back with him, unless she went off world. In which case, I don't think we're going to be able to find her any time soon."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at McKay. " John was insistent we try. And for matters of safety, I think we should."

And for matters of peace of mind. John had gotten worked up despite Beckett's precautions. The apex of his distress was on telling Elizabeth about revealing Atlantis' status to the girl Krissa. The look on John's face had been another rock through the glass heart. The resolve had been firm, and his desperation that Krissa be found so potent it had brought John to tears.

Elizabeth hadn't let her own tears fall until she left the infirmary. John had literally slogged through hell trying to save this girl.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. " Let's back up here for a moment. I think the real issue at hand isn't so much the girl, but this Diavante. John said he was an Ancient, that he'd tampered with Ascension, and has an interest in Atlantis as well as knowledge that Atlantis still exists. Now, as best as I could figure from what John told me, Diavante has no real form."

" Like Anubis but not like him," Rodney said. " At least, that's what it sounds like. Anubis attempted Ascension and got stuck in an in between state. Apparently, so did this Diavante character."

Weir nodded. " Yes, but from the details John gave me, Diavante got himself into even more trouble. His attempt at regaining a solid form only ended up making him more unstable, even in mind. Then there's Diavante's supposed ability to pass through shields. John 'suspects', though he's not certain, that Diavante may, at some point, try to come to Atlantis. And, I won't hold this back, John was a little nervous when he said it."

Try terrified. John was quite vehement that Diavante should, under no circumstances, be allowed into Atlantis. How they were supposed to stop something that could pass through shields, however, Elizabeth had no clue, and some of John's terror was starting to rub off on her.

" So what are we supposed to do about it?" Caldwell asked.

" I don't know," Weir admitted. " I was considering a visit to Chaya. I know she isn't able to help us, but she may give us some insight into Diavante. In the meantime, I'm going to have security around the gate increased. Rodney, you may want to look into that storage container that had held the energy creature. Maybe it could be used against Diavante in some way."

Rodney nodded. " I can try, though I don't think an ascended being, even a half mutilated one, is going to be easy to hold."

" I understand, but it's still worth a try."

Ronon, standing against the wall, raised his hand. " Question. About this whole Sheppard being able to turn into a creature..."

Elizabeth stifled a grimace. She had actually, foolishly, hoped that the topic could be surpassed, and that all focus would be glued to Diavante.

Beckett came to the rescue. " Nothin' to worry over. John knew what he was gettin' himself into on takin' the serum. He said the serum would be out of his system after a few weeks or so. Nothin' I'd worry about."

Caldwell, however, squinted warily. " You sure about that, Doctor Beckett? We've had some bad experiences concerning genetic experiments in the past."

Carson nodded. " Aye, I know, but this isn't like those past experiences. Colonel Sheppard controls the change, the change doesn't control him. He's fine."

Caldwell didn't seem satisfied, but said nothing further to Elizabeth's relief. She shot brief glances to the rest of John's team. Teyla seemed more at ease, Lorne excepting of what Beckett had to say, Rodney was busy looking at something on his laptop, and Ronon was indifferent as usual.

" Rodney," Elizabeth said. The physicist's head shot up.

" Yeah?"

" I think you can start looking into that device John brought back. He says he has the codes memorized, but he doesn't want you – under any circumstances – taking it apart."

Rodney snorted. " Oaky, then how the hell am I supposed to study it?"

" By seeing what it does, and wait for us to retrieve Krissa so that she can show you. John's words exactly."

" And what if we don't find her?"

Elizabeth had asked John the same thing, which had ended their conversation when he fell into a sorrowful silence.

" I don't know. You'd have to take it up with him." Which was probably not a good idea the way McKay liked to prod and badger. And Elizabeth had the feeling that if Krissa remained missing, John still wouldn't let Rodney dissect that device.

" That's all for now," Elizabeth said. " Lorne, I want you to head the team to Sriot. Ronon, go with them, they may need your tracking skills. Rodney, the device, both of them, start looking into them."

" Can we see Sheppard?" Ronon bluntly asked.

Beckett took this one. " Aye, but one or two at a time is best. He's still exhausted and wears out easily. In fact, right now, he's sleeping. But if you'll wait ten minutes, I should have him awake again so he can eat."

Ronon made a satisfied grunt, and Teyla beamed.

Everyone milled from the conference room, leaving only Beckett and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow. " Well, that went better than I expected."

" You were expectin' somethin' else, lass?"

She shrugged. " More shock, maybe. I don't know. I really didn't know what to expect. Something bad, I suppose."

Beckett nodded solemnly. " Like the suggestion made that John be escorted by security? Or, worse, locked up?"

Elizabeth frowned. " Exactly." She then let out a weary breath and looked at the Scottish doctor. " What happened to John... He was purposefully leaving out the details."

" Aye, that he did. Obviously nothin' of importance. Probably situations best left for Kate's ears... Considerin' if she can get him to talk."

Elizabeth set her mouth in a straight line. " He did it before," she said.

Didn't mean he would again.

TBC...