Jerking awake and quickly looking over at John's still sleeping form, Elizabeth sighed in relief that he had not seen her nodding. In truth, she had dozed most of the remaining night, but 'all's well that ends well' she thought and stood up yawning. The cool forest around them was coming to life with the twittering of…birds she supposed… and listening to the noise for a while, she began to wonder how John could sleep through all the racket. Walking out further into the woods, she looked expectantly to the east, feeling warmed by the blush of color that leaked through tiny windows in the leaves and branches.

Waiting until the black sky directly overhead had lightened to a deep purple, she went back into their shelter and plopping down, pulled out a Power Bar from one of her many vest pockets. She had to rummage through a few of them to find it, not being as familiar with the inventory as she should be. Ripping open the wrapper at last and taking a hungry bite, she mumbled softly around the chewy tastelessness, "Hey, John!"

The soldier's long body startled, and he spasmodically clutched his gun before sitting up with a groan and a sleep-bemused expression. Staring stupidly around him for a bit, he finally yawned and with a smooth motion got to his feet. She envied the ease with which he moved…she was stiff and sore and would be hobbling for a week, she was sure. He too seemed to listen to the birds for a moment, rubbing absently at the thick new scab near his eyebrow before walking out of sight with a stretch. She let him go, having taken care of that particular need for privacy just a little while ago herself.

When he returned, he seemed fully awake, radiating the cautious restless energy she was most familiar with. Dropping to his knees to sit comfortably on his heels, he also pulled out a bar, his hand going directly to the exact pocket they were in without even a glance down to guide it. Taking half the thing in one bite, he chewed ferociously, the silence between them growing, feeling awkward. Swallowing hard he tried for small talk, sounding a bit forced as he asked, "Did I ever tell you about the Glow bugs on that damn planet where the wraith ship crashed?" Elizabeth nodded, having just taken another bite herself, and he went on, "They loved these damn things," he waved his bar before shoving the rest into his mouth. "Me, I think they taste like a chunk out of my jumper's fuselage." His hands now free, he began a manual check of his weapons and ammunition and she recognized a routine born of long practice and frequent repetition.

Unable to resist, she asked as innocently as she could muster… "Your jumper?"

He looked at her for a moment as if it were obvious and simply said, "Yes."

When he stood again and walked out of their cozy niche in the rock this time she followed, unable to resist a glance at the rock shelf as she passed by. The 9 mil was gone, back in John's holster. With a sigh, she was soon standing next to him as he paused to gather his thoughts and plan for the day's long journey.

"The road is guarded," he eventually said, looking at her to let her know he was including her in the decisions. "but I still think it's the best way to get to the gate. Corrigan said he thought it had been built for foot travel, so that probably means it's also the easiest route, despite adding a few miles. The guard posts were set up about every 10 miles, and they were patrolling in a classic downstream formation. I think we can avoid most of the sentry points, and take care of any of the patrols we may run into…" he was stroking his weapon unconsciously with the statement and Elizabeth understood clearly what "take care of" meant. She waited for a moment to be sure he had finished thinking it through out loud.

"I think the road sounds good, at least we'll know what to expect…you said it's 50 miles to the gate?"

"Mmmm." He replied, stepping out briskly in a direction he was obviously certain of. "Less than that now. It was right at 50 to the Ziggurat. We were already a couple miles down the road when we broke for cover. We probably traveled another couple last night."

"Could we make it to the gate tonight then?" Elizabeth was more wishful than sanguine, and sure enough John just shook his head.

"There's a major river between us and the gate. I want to make it across before we stop, we might be able to slow down reinforcements from the rear and buy us some rest overnight if we blow the bridge behind us. The gate is another, oh 4-5 hours beyond that. We'll make it by midday tomorrow."

They walked along, each lost in separate thoughts for a while. Actually, Elizabeth thought to herself, "scrambled along" would have been more accurate. There was no convenient trail, so they were climbing over or pushing through plants, trees and brush most of the time. Sheppard seemed more intent upon a direct course today, and once she recognized the effort of navigating in such a difficult environment, she was shocked they had traveled so far with such stealth last night. Watching the ease with which John hopped over a mossy fallen tree trunk she couldn't help but ask, "Grow up in the woods, did you?"

"No." He twisted around just enough to answer but in doing so, missed a groove in the hard soil cut by rain runoff. Tripping comically, he windmilled his arms into a kind of pirouette before regaining his usual agile balance.

Knowing he would not appreciate it, she tried hard not to laugh and just said pointedly, "City kid, then."

Sounding disgruntled, he shot back, "Military brat."

Of course. For some reason the thought sobered her. Born and raised to fight and protect, kill and survive. She could understand his frequent frustration with her and the other civilians on Atlantis, and yet she felt more comfortable working with him than any other Military commander she had yet encountered. There was an intelligent gentleness deep inside that his upbringing and career had buried perhaps, but not driven out.

Mentally preparing herself, she finally brought up the issue she was most concerned about this morning. "I've been thinking about what the message on that stone marker said…and about how or at least why an army would suddenly come after us."

As she expected, John tensed immediately. "I told you, I don't care."

"Hear me out John! The Ancient text I was able to translate said 'Enemies of Peace will be driven before a wave of their own violence.'…"

"Damn poetic of them." He seemed determined to avoid the conversation. Calling on her own deep reserves of stubbornness she ploughed on, "What if this is some kind of test to see if we have peaceful intentions, or a misunderstanding because we came armed. The tablet seemed very concerned with nonviolence. At the time when I was reading it…"

"It decided to do a little reading of it's own! I should have blown the thing up right then, like I wanted to. It could have done anything to you, Elizabeth. Anything! Including microwave a few of those cute curls right off your head…" Realizing he'd raised his voice, John walked a little quicker as if to run away from his own temper.

"But don't you see! You were scanned too, and moments after you're thinking "blow it up" a barrage of missiles appears and nearly blows us up. I just feel like it's worth thinking about, maybe it means we should…"

"What!" Turning on his heel, he stopped to face her. Startled, she too came to an abrupt halt. "What should we do? Saunter up to the next patrol we see and say, 'Excuse me, have we offended you?' and hope that if we apologize real hard for thinking naughty thoughts they won't shoot us in the head?"

She wasn't going to back down, but the negotiator in her decided to back-pedal verbally for the good of the greater point. "Of course not. I'm not suggesting we turn ourselves in or do anything foolish." With that, Sheppard turned back to his stalking, leaving her to jog after him, pressing her final thought and hoping he would at least hear it. "I just think we should be careful and try to, I don't know, tread lightly. Avoid the soldiers rather than engage them. Maybe if we leave them alone, they'll leave us alone, and let us go home."

He openly scoffed at the suggestion, a harsh humorless laugh that left Elizabeth bristling, but before she could retort he growled, "Fine. But let's phrase it this way: I'll leave them alone if they stay the hell away from me. If they let me get you home, I'll send a thank you card with flowers and promise never to think about violent things again. That is, right after I take a jumper and blow that fucking building to hell and find out what happened to Ronan and Teyla."

Elizabeth caught her breath at the anguish in Sheppard's voice. She had worked with McKay longer than any of them, and depended greatly on his work with the science team to help run Atlantis. She felt a warm camaraderie with Teyla and they sometimes shared their burdens of leadership over tea. She ached for everyone they had left behind, the worry and fear for their safety a constant presence. But she hadn't known how deeply Sheppard was feeling the separation from his team, and the realization unsettled her. He had seemed so sure, so confident when he pulled her into the forest and over the hill…

Drawing back, she followed him more slowly, feeling like she had made her point. And even, she realized, won a small concession: he wouldn't go looking for trouble.
Walker, Jones, Corrigan and the others simply stared in amazement. Teyla couldn't quite smother the amusement she felt as she watched them watching Ronan and McKay. She was used to her teammates' capacity for devouring food, but looking through others' eyes, she found their eager slurping and shoveling all the more entertaining. Most people found the standard MREs unappealing, especially in the morning when "beef ravioli" or "meatloaf" for breakfast seemed particularly unappetizing. But Ronan and Rodney possessed a special ability to enjoy any and all of it, in large quantities. Though Sheppard often fasted, especially on stressful missions, when he did join them in a group display of male appetite, Teyla sometimes felt like a disapproving matron, torn between humor and disgust… The innocent thought, however, left her dwelling on her missing friends. She was almost relieved when Rodney slapped his hands on his trousers and stood up still chewing.

"Ok, so who's going with me to the Welcoming Stone?"

Walker and Jones exchanged uneasy looks, but Ronan grunted immediately, "I will."

Teyla nodded her approval and rose, "I will join you as well. Walker, you remain with the base camp, Jones, check out the perimeter and then return here as well." The two marines nodded smartly, accepting her direction as they would from Sheppard. Noticing, however, Jeff Corrigan's unhappy expression, she spoke to him kindly as she passed by. "Dr. Corrigan? When we return, we will depend on your help to translate the writings and understand how we should proceed." He seemed cheered by the prospect of contributing, even if he was not up to walking the distance to the marker. His shoulder was still sore and aching, but not any danger to his life.

As the three finished gathering together the recording gear and digital camera etc. they hoped to be able to use, they squared off at the end of the road, Teyla and Ronan studying it warily and wondering what if any resistance there would be. Rodney was clumsily strapping his holster onto his leg and chewing loudly. Apparently he had decided to round off his breakfast with a Power Bar. "You're so good at that," he told Teyla, having to grab quickly for the belt as it slipped down over his hips, threatening to fall off completely.

"At what Dr. McKay?"

"At that…" He waved in the general direction of where Corrigan was sitting with the other scientists, "Making people feel better. I'm not very good at it."

"Perhaps you just need to practice a bit more," was Teyla's diplomatic answer. Rodney's belt finally situated, she asked, "How do you suggest we proceed?"

Mouth full of food again, Rodney thought a moment before swallowing and answered, "I think if we just take it slow, try not to look threatening, they might let us walk that far. They clearly don't want us to leave, but if we don't look like we're trying to, they should leave us alone."

"They'd better." Ronan still seemed to take his inability to find something or someone to fight personally, and Teyla was worried he was eager for something to happen. She was about to caution him when McKay beat him to it.

"I'm serious, Ronan. We can't provoke them. Our only chance to learn anything that might help Sheppard and Elizabeth is sitting a mile down this road and we have to play it cool to get there!" For all their differences in background and style, Ronan and McKay did respect each other's areas of expertise, even if only grudgingly. Ronan scowled and holstered his massive weapon as if putting it out of temptation's reach.

"Well then." Rodney stood bouncing on his toes, looking eager to move, but apparently not eager enough to take that first step.

"Dr. McKay?"

"Yes, of course." And they walked. It was only about 100 yards when the first squad silently appeared. Ronan twitched, and McKay murmured, "Easy…easy." Walking slowly closer and then around the formation he hesitantly called to them saying, "We're just going on a little walk here, don't mind us. No escaping intended…" The 6 holo-soldiers looking remarkably real and solid, which Teyla reminded herself they were, shuffled into a casual escort formation, lowering their weapons. "Good!" Rodney enthused, clapping his hands together.

The second squad materialized to join the first another 100 yards out, weapons still lowered, but clear in their message: don't try anything. They walked on like that, more soldiers joining the ranks every few minutes, the freshly dug craters of missile fire along the way reminding them of the very real threat. When they at last reached the obelisk that had caused Elizabeth such excitement, a whole throng of holograms stood spread out around them. Walking, stretching and shifting with eerie realism, their complete verbal silence was the only giveaway that these were not real men.

"I see why Elizabeth was impressed," commented Rodney, the fascination of the stone device distracting him from their rustling escort. Hastily remembering what he was here for, he pulled out his camcorder and the digital still camera. The latter he thrust at Ronan who merely raised an eyebrow at him and refused to reach out for it. After a moment, Rodney realized he was still holding the thing and with a sigh handed it to Teyla instead, Ronan chuckling humorlessly.

They both began to circle the 4 sided marker, and it was Rodney who noticed the circles of stone set into the ground, just at the point one might stand if they were trying to view a whole panel, one stone for each language. Ronan examined the ground in front of the panel written in Ancient, and pointed out the fresh scuff marks, and the clear impression of a military-style boot sole.

"I'd bet that standing on one of those circles activates the stone," Rodney hypothesized. "From what that old man said, I guess Sheppard and Elizabeth both stood on it."

"Weir activated it, Sheppard shoved her out of the way," elaborated Ronan, pointing out the tracks in the dirt that told the story.

"Should we try to activate it ourselves? See if there is a way to communicate with the Stone and ask it to end the trial?" Teyla was not going to leave any avenue unexplored in her search for a way to help.

Rodney looked terrified at the thought, but considered the question, "I really have no idea. It could make things worse, or decide to add us to the trial and I ate too much to dodge missiles all the way back to the jumper."

Pausing for only a moment, Teyla looked to Ronan, "I believe it is worth the risk. I will step upon the stone. If I am to be tested as well, you must return to the others and continue to work on another solution." Ronan nodded, accepting her instructions.

"Think happy thoughts!" McKay blurted as she moved towards the nearest circle, "This message waxes on about peace and happiness like a bad Hallmark card…" Receiving only blank looks from the Pegasus natives, Rodney rolled his eyes and continued, "I just mean try concentrating on Sheppard and Weir and "let us go" and nothing else."

Teyla clutched her weapon tightly as she prepared to step onto the stone, then thinking better of it, she unclipped the P-90 and set it down on the grass. Closing her eyes to focus her thoughts she repeated to herself, "we only wish to return home." She stepped onto the circle and waited a long moment, finally looking around at Rodney for suggestions. He stood frantically poking his own scanning device, and when she moved as if to step away, he hastily raised his hand and said quickly, "No, no, no, it's scanning you. Just stay put. Think happy." Feeling nothing, she simply concentrated again on her message until Ronan told her, "It's done."

She stepped off and they all stood expectantly, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, they exchanged nervous looks and waited a bit longer. Finally, feeling a keen sense of disappointment, they each gave the silent stone a last discouraged glare and turned back onto the path towards camp. Their silent guard diminished as it had grown, more disappearing with each step closer to the jumper. Rodney spent the entire walk engrossed in his palm sensor and seemed to grow even more frustrated the further they walked.

As they walked into their makeshift encampment, he blurted out to nobody in particular, "These power readings are simply incomprehensible. Those holographic characters must require massive energy for each of them, yet that thing…" he gestured crossly at the ziggurat brooding over them, "hums along like it's simply charging AA batteries. I was hoping to see some power fluctuation as it brought the soldiers on and off line." Teyla wondered at the odd melancholy that crept into McKay's voice as he spoke the last. Finally he added more softly, "I thought maybe we could take some heat off Sheppard by drawing more characters here to us…"

Rodney was soon drawn out of his regret when Corrigan called eagerly to him, "What did you find? Did the writings say anything useful?" McKay shrugged and stopped briefly to pick up his computer before sitting next to the anthropologist. And then they were working heads together to input the images into the tablet, nodding over the interesting new languages. Hoping that something in the message would reveal a way to help.
Sheppard and Weir reached the road only an hour after abandoning their nighttime shelter. Crouching in the thick groundcover alongside the gleaming stone, John made them wait for a long while before venturing out onto it himself. Leaving Elizabeth he disappeared across the smooth surface back in the direction of the plain. Trying to take the opportunity to rest, Elizabeth sat amidst leaves and feathery branches with her head on her knees.

Sheppard seemed to be going for over-compensating politeness after their second argument in 8 hours, she thought. His "I'll be back as soon as I can" as he left still rang awkwardly in her ears. Staying angry wasn't a skill he was good at, though she knew the man could hold a grudge. No, he was much more likely to avoid any more confrontation, and bury the issue deep under a veneer of wry sarcasm and boyish wit.

When he came back, walking openly towards her on the path, she scrambled out to join him. He motioned for her to keep walking with him and he took a small measured sip from his canteen before reporting, "I don't think anyone else is on the road for at least a mile in either direction, if we're lucky we'll stay in between any patrol groups and never see them at all." While he seemed comfortable enough to venture onto the road proper, he was still wary and exuded tense alertness. They stayed close to one edge of the path as well, within an easy jump into the cover of brush and brambles.

Ten or twenty minutes later and feeling she couldn't stand the nervous silence any longer she asked hesitantly, just for something to say, "You said something about 'downstream patrol formation'. What is that?" She wasn't sure he'd answer…

"It's a way to hold a road and patrol it at the same time," again his voice sounded forcedly cheerful, but at least he was talking. "Guard stations are set up and reinforcements are sent from the main encampment "downstream" to the first post. They stop there and guard while others from that first camp move on down the road to the second camp and so on. Keeps the road patrolled, and keeps the guards alert by moving them post-to-post, but no one has to travel too far. Saw a lot of it in Northern Afghanistan, they were usually patrolling in trucks and vehicles though…" his voice grew thoughtful as he added, "Actually, it's not a very useful strategy for stopping or catching fugitives. We're lucky they're patrolling on foot, too, much harder to overtake us if we hit the timing just right."

The silence didn't seem as uncomfortable after that, somehow knowing at least something about the obstacles facing them helped Elizabeth. The first hour passed quickly, and they pressed on at a pace equally quick. During the second hour, she felt John relax bit by bit as they met no one, and nothing came up behind them. At one point she even caught him without his P-90 in its usual death grip, stretching and rubbing his face with his hands and wincing a bit as doing so abraded the still tender scratches. Thinking that on anyone else she would worry about the scratches leaving scars, but on John, who was more beautiful than a man had any right to be, they would probably just make him appear rugged and handsome even the more so…

It was nice walking like this, she decided. When John wasn't radiating toxic nervous anxiety into the environment she could almost pretend she was back in her college days, hiking through Northern California with a comfortable lodge and a glass of wine waiting for her. She and her friends had made several trips west in the summers to take advantage of off-season ski resorts. When they were lucky, they would wait tables for a month and not even have to pay lodging.

Still daydreaming, she really noticed the forest foliage for the first time. Some of the trees looked so familiar, she could almost give Earth names to them: Pine, Fir, Cedar… Others surprised her by how alien they looked, and she couldn't believe she hadn't seen that before. There were also creatures. The birds not only sounded like "birds" but seemed to fly on the same principle too. When a very odd two-legged rabbit with green fur dashed across the road in front of them, though, she had to laugh out loud. Sheppard also paused for a moment to appreciate the animal, and when she noticed him watching, she had to say, "My great-grandma Weir would have called that a 'varmint'. Looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland."

"Looked like lunch to me." John deadpanned and Weir's smile froze, not sure if he was serious and wondering for just a split second if she really would have to eat a green two legged rabbit from some alien planet God knows where in the Pegasus Galaxy…

Finally grinning roguishly, he waved his hand and said "Nah, just kidding." Relieved, Elizabeth chuckled and rolled her eyes, but Sheppard wasn't letting her off the hook quite yet because he added, suddenly mock serious, "Can't risk building a fire to cook with…" and he stalked on, pretending to ignore her. Not quite sure whether to laugh or be very, very worried, she settled for following with a nervous smile.

As they entered into the 3rd hour of the morning, it was like the past hour in reverse. With every step, John became more wary and his growing tension rubbed off on Elizabeth to such a degree that she also found herself walking softly and with frequent glances behind them. They were approaching the first guard post.