McKay had a moment while he was working on Sheppard's disappearance when he wondered if he really was the genius he thought he was. Surely someone of his intellect would have been able to find the man by now. Surely he would have figured out where the freak surge had happened. Surely he would have solved all the mysteries of the Stargate by now.

But no. He was stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. And Sheppard was still missing because he couldn't figure out a simple problem.

The Stargate had blipped, and there was no logical explanation as to why.

One minute, they had been crossing the event horizon back to Atlantis, and the next, there was no Sheppard.

They had immediately redialed back to P39-X23 and found no one. It had been eerily reminiscent of when Kolya had kidnapped the Colonel, but this time, the last 'gate address out had been to Atlantis.

McKay had run every diagnostic on the Atlantis 'gate and the one on P39-X23. There was nothing wrong with either 'gate. There was nothing wrong with the DHDs.

Sheppard had simply vanished.

And now, six weeks later, Woolsey had reluctantly called Lorne, Ronon, Teyla, and McKay into the briefing room.

"I think we need to face the facts," Woolsey said, his face grave. "Sheppard is MIA."

"What does that mean?" Ronon hissed.

McKay threw the big man a nervous look. Ronon was daring Woolsey to say what they knew he had to say.

Woolsey sighed. "We have to call off the search."

Ronon growled. "I'm not going to stop looking for him."

"Nor will I," Teyla said, drawing herself to her full height.

Lorne shook his head, tight lipped and his face hard.

McKay deflated. "Woolsey is right. We don't have any leads. There was nothing wrong with either Stargate. We made a complete scan of the planet's surface and made sure there weren't any freak sun spots that might have affected the 'gate. Absolutely nothing was wrong."

"We are wasting valuable resources in searching for him," Woolsey explained. "I cannot in good faith keep a team searching for a man who may never be found."

"He's right," Lorne reluctantly said. "I've had four teams working non-stop the past six weeks and we haven't had any leads."

Ronon snarled, turning and smashing a fist into the wall. Woolsey jumped, but admirably stood his ground.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I sincerely am. Colonel Sheppard was a good man. I hope that one day he will return to us. But as of today, our priorities are redirected towards other matters." He turned to Teyla. "You have no obligation to stay if you do not want to, otherwise I can reassign you to another team." He gave a nod in Ronon's direction. "The same for you."

"And what about me?" McKay asked, feeling hurt and left out.

"I figured you would want to head the science team here on Atlantis and be based here," Woolsey answered.

"So … no more exploration?" McKay asked, confused.

"Not unless you would rather be assigned to a team."

McKay's hands fluttered absently. "Let me think about it."

"Of course," Woolsey nodded. "You all have a few days to think it over. I do also understand there may be a grieving process, in which case —"

"He's not dead!" Ronon shouted.

Woolsey pointedly closed his mouth, his eyes hard as he looked at Ronon.

"No. I don't believe he's dead either, Ronon," he agreed. "But often, those missing in action never return, and we never find out what happened to them. I pray we do find out, for all our sakes."

"Ronon." Teyla took the grieving man's arm and pulled him towards the door. "We will keep searching for him. You and I. We will not stop looking."

McKay turned away from everyone, fingers pressed to his brow as he found that for once in his life he couldn't think.

Sheppard. Missing in action. And Stargate Command unwilling to move forward in the search. That was that, then. There was nothing he could do, no strings he could pull, no magic tricks, no moment of genius.

It was over.

Sheppard remembered his first shower in the barracks. The water had felt absolutely blissful as it washed away the grime, sweat and blood.

Afterwards, they gave him new clothes. They had made him a black uniform, but it wasn't like his old military one. This one had a soft vest that he knew was bullet-proof. It was lighter and stronger than his old vest.

They also gave him a new belt. It had a place for one of the smaller guns, and they had given him his Bowie back.

He wore his weapons openly and without fear, like all his brothers did. They had received their first orders.