The infirmary was bright and cheery, well as cheery as any hospital could be, she amended. Elizabeth nodded at Doctors and smiled at nurses as she walked through its winding paths. Even though she was dressed casually, off duty in comfortable day clothes, she could feel the respect everyone paid her, even more warm than usual as they expressed their gratitude at her return. I need to get off Atlantis more, she thought to herself. Nothing like absence to make the heart grow fonder.

Noting that John had been moved to a quiet private corner of the wing, she grinned inwardly at the realization that this was most likely not for his comfort, but for the comfort of the infirmary staff that still had to go about their business despite the burden of his irritable presence. She had visited him yesterday as he remained deeply asleep, helped she suspected by a potion or two of Beckett's. For a long time she had simply watched him breathe, chuckling with undignified pleasure when he would snort or mutter in peaceful slumber.

When Beckett had informed her that John had awakened in the night and was "eating like a horse," it had taken her until morning to collect herself before visiting him again. She was surprised by how nervous she felt. Their whole shared experience seemed almost surreal, now that she was back in the familiar trappings of home. And, she admitted, there was a part of her that didn't want to face the memories that were sure to surface by talking to him.

But. There was something she had to say, something she had to tell him or the burden of the message would tear her apart from the inside. So she peeked around the privacy curtains into his room and spoke a quiet, "Hi…"

John raised his head off the pillow with a scowl, then flopped it back down again closing his eyes. "Oh. It's you." She couldn't tell if he was relieved or annoyed by the observation. Unable to smother a grin, she just pulled over a chair and set it close beside the bed to sit facing him, slouching comfortably. He was watching her as she settled in, and before she met his eyes, she rested her elbow on the edge of the bed and slipped her hand into his.

He darted his eyes warily around the space, as if checking to make sure no one was around to notice. Then he relaxed, rolled closer and gave a tiny squeeze back. "So they let you out of here already?" he asked.

"Mmmm. Yesterday."

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at the injustice of it. She seemed about to say something and he interrupted, "Look before you ask. I'm fine. Really. Beckett says I'm…get this…anemic and dehydrated so…" he held up the hand with the IV line taped to it then dropped it with a sigh. Elizabeth thought arriving at the infirmary unconscious in blood-soaked clothing might also have something to do with Beckett's watchfulness, despite the fact that the wounds themselves had miraculously healed underneath. "I could sleep for a week, though," he admitted quietly but unapologetically, closing his eyes as if to prove the point.

"Me too." They sat in comfortable silence for a long time, Sheppard's thumb brushing over her knuckles in idle restlessness.

"What the hell happened, Elizabeth?" John finally whispered, his voice thick with confusion and his expression almost anxious.

With a deep breath to collect her thoughts and organize all the stories and information she'd accumulated since leaving the infirmary yesterday, she began. She talked for a long time, telling him about the holograms and Rodney and Teyla's efforts to disable them, about tearing apart the jumper and finally launching a drone only to find themselves floating above Atlantis minutes later. Then she told him about Lorne's efforts and how they had been only minutes away from launching the Orion to come for them.

John listened in rapt attention, but when she seemed to be winding down, his face became even more intense. "I meant, what happened to us? The last thing I remember was shooting the sniper." Elizabeth cringed at the fleeting look of pain-filled memory that flashed across his face. "Not that I'm not grateful to wake up to a private room and all the infirmary food I can eat…" he went on, trying belatedly to lighten the moment.

He was watching her face expectantly and she looked away for a second. She hadn't yet told anyone about what happened after the sniper shot John. Oh, she had explained how she had talked to the Old Man from Sanctuary, how he had healed John, and that she had then dragged Sheppard through the Stargate. But she hadn't told them everything. And as she repeated the story again for John, she still couldn't bring herself to relive the rage and hatred that had driven her to shoot blindly into a crowd of men, fully intending, hoping even, to hurt, kill and destroy.

Somehow, John seemed to know she was holding back, his penetrating look revealed his concern for the unspoken half-truths. But to her relief, he let it pass and simply sighed deeply staring at the ceiling. "I still don't understand…" She understood him to mean "understand the situation," not understand her story.

Elizabeth thought for a moment, then spoke quietly, "Teyla told me last night that there's a legend among her people: A group of warriors grew so weary of fighting and resisting the Wraith, that they gave up, resolving to live from that time peacefully, even if it meant their deaths. The other Athosian warriors grew angry and accused them of being weak or lazy, and eventually drove them off their homeworld. The legend states that the group wandered for a long time following clues from many other worlds to a place that could grant them eternal peace. A place never touched by war or greed or the Wraith. The legend states that they found it and were transported far away forever."

"You think that this 'Sanctuary' the Old Man went on about was that place?" John was skeptical, not one to put much trust in legends or fairytales.

Elizabeth just shrugged. "The story fits. And the Old Man told Teyla her people were known to him. And… Rodney believes that the Ziggurat, maybe the whole planet could actually be an intergalactic transporter."

"Intergalactic…" he repeated unthinkingly.

"Yes, as in between galaxies. He thinks dropping them off in our solar system was a walk next door compared to what it's capable of. He's clamoring on about going back in the Orion…"

A long silence fell upon them again, still comfortable yet restless as each of them struggled to comprehend and digest the overwhelming experience. Elizabeth felt her message beginning to burn in her throat, and felt her heart race a bit with anxiety, bursting to be spoken.

Working up her courage, Elizabeth finally looked down at their intertwined hands. Starting hesitantly she said, "I need… to tell you… To thank you for bringing me home. For…everything you did…what you went through." She swallowed hard a few times and she realized she was gripping his hand tightly, willing him not to pull away from her. How did one express gratitude to someone who had literally given his life up for you? So she went on, "and I've been thinking about what you said, that night we argued."

She raised her eyes to find him watching her with frowning concentration. "You need to know that I do not take you…or your men…for granted. I believe that I have always tried to balance risk with benefit, that lives are the most important factor. And now I know even more about what you must go through every time you step through that gate." She looked away again. "But you were right about me personally. When we were out there in the thick of it, in the real world, I was too willing to let you do the dirty work, the real work, the hard work, just because I was clinging to some juvenile ideal and… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"No, Elizabeth." John's voice was stern, but not angry and her head shot up to see him equally intent. His face was shadowed with his own guilt, and the grip on her hand was returned just as fiercely. "No, you were right. Rodney came by early this morning. He told me a few things you left out. He told me they used my mind to create the holograms and design the trial. You were right about the test, you guessed it the first night! If I had listened to you, if I hadn't provoked them…" his voice broke and he paused, closing his eyes to regain his composure. "I didn't trust you. I couldn't see you as competent in the field and I was just so… scared… all I could see was getting you home. It's my fault, Elizabeth."

"You didn't have a choice," she whispered.

It was a long time before he spoke again. "I don't want to go back," his voice was distant, fearful.

"Neither do I…"