John's POV

oOo

John Sheppard was standing on the balcony of his room. The wide, green-blue ocean surrounding Atlantis was a sight he had truly missed. Growing up in California, John had been taken more to rock climbing than to surfing, but he liked the ocean. How much he liked the ocean, or any water for that matter, he had only found out in Afghanistan. He had never seen such a bleak-looking place before and nothing good had happened there.

In Antarctica, the ocean had been far away, although the dreaded sand and dust was gone. Everything was white, snow and ice. It had been peaceful to look down from the chopper and, honestly, John hadn't missed the action one bit.

Atlantis was the assignment people like he normally didn't get. It had just been the luck of the genetic draw that had gotten him the ticket to another galaxy. A trip that might be a nightmare in the face of the facts. They had paid for their ignorance. Summer had died, the Athosian's had been driven from their home and they had awakened the Wraith, condemning millions of people around the Pegasus Galaxy to death.

In the light of his track record of the past three weeks, the latest mission didn't seem like such a big disaster.

John had left the infirmary in a huff two hours earlier and had stalked off to his quarters. He felt better than the last time he had walked out of the infirmary; the overwhelming fatigue was gone. What wasn't gone was the effect of the venom. It was just like in the first minutes after he had been bitten by the Iratus bug. The paralysis hadn't been instantly. It had started with a stinging sensation, then he'd gone numb and heavy, after that he'd lost feeling in his limbs and, at last, paralysis had set in. It had been slow and agonizing; the only blessing had been that as the venom spread, the pain had diminished.

John's arm felt numb and his fingers refused to move, but he could still lift his arm. John tried to quell his growing concern. Compared to the fate he had come to envision ever since he had seen Summer being fed on by the magenta-haired Wraith, he was lucky. He might even be fine and worry for nothing. Beckett was top in his field and he would come up with some answer if needed, John thought then. He braced his forearms on the railing and looked over on the calm ocean under the City. Part of him still couldn't believe it. He was in another galaxy, in a floating, or if he believed Rodney, flying, city with life-force sucking aliens, Stargates, and space ships. Some days he didn't even want to think about the life he had stumbled into, and was more or less clueless. Aiden had been with the SGC for over a year, even though John thought of him as a bit green. Aiden had dealt with pissed-off aliens while he had still played taxi-driver in Antarctica.

Despite the all-around briefing about the Stargate, which included mentions about the Goa'uld, the chief enemy in their home galaxy, John had been stunned by his first truly alien encounter.

Teyla and her people didn't really count. They were probably the best allies they could have hoped for. So the Athosians didn't have guns and had no idea what C4 was, but John trusted them without reservation. From the first time he had met her, he had sensed that Teyla was as curious as they were about other planets and other people and she was even more serious about fighting the Wraith. John was convinced that Teyla could teach them a lot. They were the new kids in the neighbourhood; soon they would start to need food to supplement what they had brought from Earth. John was sure Teyla knew the right people to ask. But he hadn't pushed her. Having seen her handle herself in a combat situation had only been another factor that had convinced him to invite her on his team. He would have wanted her for her local knowledge and diplomatic skill anyways. Teyla had accepted with an unreadable expression on her face, but she had seemed to move somewhat uncomfortably with the team the first couple of missions.

John had to admit that it was a difference between leading an all-military team in a military mission and leading a team with McKay on a mission into uncharted territory. He wasn't really sure that was what he had signed up; the Iratus bug certainly hadn't been on his list. John didn't have a problem with McKay and Teyla not behaving like it was expected from a member of the armed forces. Teyla seemed to have a copy of the Athosian Warrior's Code tacked to her mirror. Although she asked more questions than a good soldier was supposed to ask, Teyla handled herself like an experienced warrior. She had picked up the use of firearms at an amazing speed. Only the deafening noise of the P90 had bothered her in the beginning, she had admitted. Other than that, she was interested in knowing how Earth weapons worked and eagerly practised. John could only wish McKay would practise half as much. He would dearly need it. For a scientist who had nothing to do with guns, McKay didn't do too badly; but for combat situations, it just wasn't enough. He couldn't thrust a P90 into the hands of the physicist; Rodney would probably shoot himself in the foot.

And McKay talked, he talked and talked and never shut up. He was a constant flow of information, a well that wouldn't dry up, even when a group of Wraith might be sneaking up on them. Rodney reminded John of the kid in the front of the class, hand always up. The man didn't seem to realise just how obnoxious he was. But he knew his stuff. McKay bragged and let everybody know how great he was, but John was starting to believe that there was really something to it. McKay was one hell of a smart man, but a rotten soldier. He'd get them killed one of those days. But for now, he and his under-geek Zelenka had saved their collective asses. Maybe the team was going to work out after all. John had a pretty good feeling about it. Aiden would manage. He was a bit green, but he'd learn. John had been like that once. He too had believed that they were the good guys fighting the good fight.

John had loved flying and he loved the air force. There had always been something about blindly following orders that went against his grain, but he had understood that was how it worked. It worked well. Until Afghanistan.

He hadn't been thrown back into civilian life after over a decade in the air force, but the mark was on his record and it was made clear that he wouldn't be entrusted with any command responsibility ever again. It was just as well with him. Part of him didn't want anything to do with the air force anymore, but where was he going to go? He wasn't going to get far with a bachelor's degree and a dozen years in the air force. Besides, John needed to fly. It was all he ever wanted to do. He accepted what the air force had in store for him and headed off to whiter pastures. McMurdo was quiet and lonely, but he liked it. John had come out of Afghanistan alive, but rather jaded. Afghanistan looked like a day at the beach compared to the Pegasus Galaxy. But they were cut off from Earth and Washington was very, very far away. John was the military commander and he made the rules. He had decided that they were not leaving anyone behind. Not like his superiors had wanted in Afghanistan.

So he brought doom over the Athosians, the expeditions and probably the rest of the Galaxy by awaking the Wraith. It was probably true what they said about good intentions.

John wandered back inside his quarters as the cold was starting to seep through his uniform. The sky over Atlantis was light blue and the weather was cool and windy. The expedition had brought one meteorologist, Dr. Byron. He had classified the Atlantean climate as comparable to Mediterranean, but not really. John didn't care. It wasn't a God-forsaken dessert. Not a bad place to get stuck, all things considered. But not if he couldn't return to duty. John didn't want to think about that possibility. He thought the balcony door shut and headed for the corridor. It was past the lunch hour, but John wasn't feeling very hungry; in fact, he was feeling slightly nauseous. He suspected Beckett's drugs were responsible. Still a turkey sandwich sounded like a good idea. There were only going to be sandwiches for so long. They hadn't been able to take any fresh foods with them. Everything had been canned or packaged. McKay seemed to relish the compressed form of nutrition presented in the form of PowerBars, but John preferred real food. Teyla had mentioned several animals that made delicious roasts as she said, but Private Deroche, their nutritional technician, had already termed it 'roast beast'. This didn't bode well for future turkey sandwiches.

The cafeteria was housed in a hall with high ceilings and windows in fractal patterns. The long packing list for the expedition had included basic furniture cots, folding chairs, lightweight tables and multi-purpose plastic, water-resistant containers. They had found Atlantis intact, along with furniture, but the cafeteria had been stocked with the familiar light but durable folding furniture. John had sat on the uncomfortable chairs in one sandy, hot rat hole or another four years.

The lunch crowd had obviously passed already, because John spotted only two scientists at a table in the back when he stepped in. The makeshift counter at the near end of the room held the remains of lunch. It didn't seem like Deroche had outdone himself. The cook had to suit international tastes as the expedition members came from all continents, but as John stared blankly at the vat of brownish lentil soup, he could think of a number of MREs that he'd prefer instead.

John grabbed a bowl from the stack and filled it with the runny substance. At least it was hot and steaming.

As John filled his bowl with soup, he was all too aware that he had only full functionality of one of his hands; the other was limp and useless at his side. His fingers just didn't want to move; occasionally he could elicit a twitch, but he had forced himself not to dwell on the profound numbness.

John chose a seat as far away as possible from the two scientists. He wasn't in the mood for company. His impaired arm rested in his lap as he started to eat the rapidly cooling soup. It tasted better than it looked, although John couldn't identify the pronounced herbal aftertaste.

"Major Sheppard, I didn't expect to find you here. I haven't heard anything about Dr. Beckett releasing you already." John hadn't heard her walk up among the indistinct noises of the cafeteria, but he recognized the sharp voice immediately.

"I released myself. Beckett should stick to his mice." John didn't turn to face her. The last thing he wanted was troops of scientists staring at him.

Elizabeth pulled up the chair opposite without invitation.

"Carson was looking for you earlier, but you weren't in your quarters," Elizabeth began. John sensed the critique in her tone. He had been in his quarters, but hadn't bothered to get the door. He had suspected that it was Beckett. If the doctor really wanted to talk to him, he could use his gene to open the door.

"I have been busy thinking," John finally replied when he realized that Elizabeth was waiting for an answer.

"I know we haven't been here long, but something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. We have no idea what else we are going to run into out there," Elizabeth began after a slight pause. John knew they were both thinking of the Wraith.

"But it can't work like this. I know you are not a coward, Major, but you are acting like one. Holing up in your room! The Wraith are going to come, whether in two months or in two years time. They know we are out there and they will find us. We both knew that."

John interrupted her before she could say more. "I get it, the bigger picture. All things considered, I was wrong; I saved the lives of those man and millions will pay with their lives. Summer and all the Athosians we couldn't save already did."

"I gave the okay to the mission. I sent you out there." Elizabeth admitted. She sounded regretful.

"It's not like Earth," John mused darkly. "On Earth there are rules. Even our enemies obey the rules. I get the feeling the Wraith don't have any rules. They kill us to survive because they have to. You can't reason with them."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I didn't want to come here to fight a war; we came here to find the means to end a war," Elizabeth replied quietly. "Dr. Jackson was certain we would find the key to defending Earth. I believed him. I wanted to believe it; it was something worth leaving everything behind." The regret was hard in Elizabeth voice. They all had doubts. Maybe McKay didn't, but John had them and he had tossed a coin to decide. Now, only weeks later, he would have given everything to go back and make the coin come up tails. But that wasn't in the game.

"I have asked Dr. Nitriwa to search the Ancient database for any information about the Iratus bug. Her team is working on it, but unfortunately we have made only little progress at decoding the database so far. Dr. Beckett is trying to help out. He knows best what they are looking for and his gene might come in handy." Elizabeth had abruptly changed topics to the more pressing agenda. She didn't instruct John again to see the physician, but it was implied.

TBC