A/N: There's been so much tear jerking in the last chapters, I thought a smidgen of action and fluff was in order. Marshmallows for all!

14

Two days later...

Ronon didn't normally squirm. He'd stared wraith in the eyes, men who wouldn't hesitate to skin him alive, and things so inhuman they couldn't be described in words. The key had always been to maintain a perfect lack of motion, holding the head up high, never even twitching a single eye from the eyes staring back. It revealed no emotions, no fear, only a sharpened ability of self control. He could stare anyone and anything down, since if he had to die, it was the best way to go.

Except this wasn't a life or death situation, or – as McKay had once put it – a stupid staring contest. Sheppard seemed to have nothing more than a genuine fascination in Ronon's face, a fascination that sometimes morphed into confusion, then into unease sparking with fear. When that happened, Sheppard would shudder and shrink back a little until the confusion resurfaced, climbing into what Ronon thought had to be realization when John's brow lifted.

It made Ronon nervous, ambivalent as to what it was John was looking for, why he slipped into fear, and whether or not he might fall into another one of those seizures.

Sheppard was sitting on the edge of the infirmary bed, dressed in gray sweat pants and socks. The long sleeved black shirt was folded beside him at the ready for when the nurse finished cleaning the stripe wounds on Sheppard's back. Ronon stood in front of Sheppard for the purpose of catching the skinny man in case he pitched forward.

Sheppard's unwavering vigil of Ronon's face wasn't the only thing making the big man fidget from foot to foot. After the nurse finished the wound-cleansing session, Ronon had been volunteered to help get Sheppard into the wheelchair, and skin and bones John still gave Ronon the impression that the slightest increase of pressure on the man's arm would easily snap it in two. Ronon had overheard people use the term 'frail' when talking in murmurs about Sheppard. It tended to piss Ronon off, but only because he wasn't within sight of Sheppard at the time. He tried not to use it now, except that his own mind had other ideas, and the word popped up because it was – to his annoyance – the only word that fit.

Ronon hated it. It was demeaning toward the man. So what if he was a skeleton in body? It sure as hell didn't make him weak, not from what Kace had told them concerning Sheppard's hell-bent stay with that wraith-bait Harl. Strength wasn't always about muscle – and in Sheppard's immediate case; sanity. What it all came down to was resolve, and finding the means and motivation to fight on when all odds were stacked against you, waiting to pummel you down.

Sheppard and himself were proof that the odds didn't always triumph. Sheppard deserved better than pity. He needed respect, which Ronon gave. Yet seeing Sheppard the way he was, with bone protruding through stretched skin, the bruises and wounds, made Ronon want to kill something (more appropriately someone). But to show that anger in the now would have made Sheppard nervous, spooked him – Kace had mentioned as much – so it was a mite nasty struggle trying to remain stoic with the marks of torture and abuse glaring at him all over the pale, gaunt frame.

John, too preoccupied with Ronon's features, began to list slightly to the side. Ronon carefully grabbed his bicep to ease him back up. The sudden movement, however, caused John to jump, and Ronon could feel him shaking, though that might have been because he was cold.

Teyla came up to them, rolling the wheelchair before her.

Ronon glanced at her. " You sure this is a good idea?"

Teyla locked the chair in place as Beckett had shown her. " Dr. Beckett said it would be all right. Colonel Sheppard's fever has passed, and he has regained some strength. Dr. Beckett also believes that this outing may help John's memory."

The nurse put a small thermometer in John's mouth, then proceeded to wrap his chest as the red line in the thermometer did it's thing. Ronon had heard from McKay who'd heard from Kace who'd spoken with Beckett that John had expressed a nasty phobia to that electric thermometer normally used. Supposedly, it had been too much like the device utilized to stir John's brain into chaotic mush. When the nurse finished wrapping, she took the thermometer out, looked at it, nodded, and helped John into the long-sleeved shirt. He was good to go.

Ronon moved to one side of John, Teyla the other, and they aided him in sliding off the bed and onto the floor. His knees bent, but the support of John's team-mates kept him up. They gave him a moment to lock his legs before moving with him to the chair. They let him do the walking – more like a kind of shuffling a ninety year old man would do. They eased him into the chair, and Teyla draped a thin gray blanket around his shoulders.

Teyla started to wheel Sheppard toward the infirmary doors when Beckett walked by.

" Remember. If he shows signs of exhaustion, or has a seizure, ya bring him back quick," he said. Teyla nodded.

" Of course, Dr. Beckett," she said.

Outside the infirmary waited Rodney and Kace. It would have felt like some kind of reunion, but Ronon still had his doubts about Kace.

" So why are we doing this again?" Rodney asked.

" To help John recall better," Teyla replied.

" Sure it's safe? I mean what if he has another seizure?"

It was Kace who answered. " It's a chance that's just gonna have to be taken. The man needs some memories to focus on – good ones. Besides, your doc gave us something that should help."

" A sedative," Teyla provided. " When he shows signs of the seizure, we are to give it to him and it will prevent it from happening."

Rodney shook his head. " Uh-uh, I don't like it. Maybe we should wait until he's a little better. Has more strength..."

" It is only a short walk," Teyla explained. " A start toward his mental healing. And we will not be going where there are many people. John needs further assurances that he is home, and this may help."

It was always blatantly obvious when Rodney wanted to say more, especially the way his jaw would slack, twitch, and close. Since no words came out, the conversation was deemed over and they started off down the corridor to the less occupied parts of the city. Sheppard's head was in the constant, fluid motion of taking in his surroundings at a glance. The look on his face interchanged from child-like fascination to careful – almost painful – concentration. It was when they passed an exit leading onto a balcony that John's gaze lingered, his head turning as far as his neck would let him, then the upper half of his body.

There was no getting used to this Sheppard. Not that Ronon wanted to, not if the old Sheppard could be retrieved.

Retrieved. Thinking in terms of retrieval, Ronon was starting to believe that people really could shatter and be scattered. They had John's body, not his mind. That had been left in Raal, and Ronon itched with twitchy trigger fingers to go fetch it. Except that this odd impression was what Rodney would refer to as a 'metaphor'. Although a large part of Ronon actually believed that killing Harl would make everything right, and that the old Sheppard would be snapped back into existence once that brain scrambling device was shattered.

Also as Rodney would say, Ronon had been watching too many of those earth movies. Life didn't like to mete out the simple answers. Breaking was easy, putting back together took time. But so went the ways of destruction. Quick fixes were a luxury.

Even Ronon longed for such luxuries. He expressed nothing because it was easiest, while inside he was begging for this team he called a family to be as it once was. A childish desire since nothing ever went back to total normalcy – ever. There would be scars, demons, issues – there already were. Still, even a semblance of what was would have been preferable to how it was now. Part for Sheppard's sake, and a part for Ronon's own sake, because even he wearied of losing friends, watching them suffer, hearing them scream, seeing the marks of their pain. Odd men like Sheppard, annoying men like McKay. They didn't deserve this. None of the team did.

Rodney was rambling on about the maintenance needs of this corridor, what he could do to increase the power for this area, which would in turn open up further living spaces, allowing for there to be extra personnel. Then he started complaining about the various and vague signs of water damage, which somehow led him to how incompetent certain scientists were – namely Kavenaugh.

Ronon almost smiled. He had no desire to tell McKay to shut up, for the most part because that was Sheppard's department. Yet at the same time, the chatter didn't bother him. Hadn't for a while, really, and not that he'd say anything. Today, however, it was almost pleasant.

Almost normal.

SGA

Carlyle was sweating. This wasn't his job. He wasn't a freakin' Ancient version of a janitor, and he had no idea what the hell he was doing. He was a scientist, not a technician. But since he was the one who screwed up the power conduit in lab five, then as a general rule – and since he had the better idea (not really but like he was going to say as much) of what he did wrong – then it was his baby to put to bed. Or else face the wrath that was Rodney McKay.

" Dude, hurry up," Averson hissed. Growling, Carlyle swiped worm-like wires from his face, digging deeper in search of the crystals that were supposed to power the stupid thing. Averson hovered above and beside him lending his useless support and motivations. He didn't even have the courtesy of handing Carlyle the needed tools.

" Averson," Carlyle said flatly, twisting wires together to see what that would prove since he seemed unable to get to the crystals. " Either find me blueprints to this piece of crap, a better expert other than Dr. McKay, hand me tools, or shut up and get lost."

" I'm not going anywhere until I know you fixed this thing."

Carlyle huffed out a breath and sagged. " Averson, though I will regret telling you this, if you left, now, then you wouldn't get caught."

Averson snorted. " Not bodily, no, which would leave the situation for you to lay the blame on me. Even though this was your project and I was just the innocent assistant."

Carlyle started in surprise, thumping his head. " Assistant! Averson! You're the one who kept increasing the damn power on that stupid device! You're the one who said it was safe and that the thing could handle it! Therefore, you're the one who blew this console to hell! So yeah, I'd make sure you took some of the heat. But there's a good chance neither of us have to be blamed, so either help me or shut up!"

Averson sighed and squatted down beside Carlyle. " Move!"

Carlyle shoved the man aside with his shoulder. " Oh hell no! I meant help by handing out the tools. No way am I going to let you screw this up further."

Averson righted himself, then attempted to take the wires from Carlyle. " Quit whining, I'm helping. Now move aside and let me have a look."

" No! I'm doing just fine, now back off!"

" You back off! You want my help or not?"

" Not any more, no."

Averson grabbed another set of wires, and without even looking, twisted them together. They sparked, the whole console sparked, there was a pop, then the sound of warning klaxons eerily reminiscent to when that nano-virus was let loose. The lights flickered, died, and doors slid shut.

Carlyle and Averson exchanged terrified looks, then pointed at eachother.

" You did it!"

SGA

Rodney's train of thought died on his lips, then fled from his mind all together when alarms that sent tendrils of ice shooting down his spine blared all around them. His head shot up at the flickering lights, then back just in time to see the door slide shut.

Rodney's heart went straight to his feet. " Oh hell." He looked ahead, at another sealed door, just before the lights died all together.

The alarms, the doors – bad trip down memory lane to yet another unpleasant time in Rodney's life. The lights – that was a little new, as was the alarms suddenly winding down as though the battery powering them had run out.

" What is happening?" Teyla asked.

Rodney dug around in his pockets until he pulled out his mini-flashlight. Clicking it on, he went straight to the door behind them. He knelt before the panel just as his radio clicked.

" Rodney, do you copy?" Dr. Weir's voice.

Rodney pulled out a mini-screwdriver and proceeded to pry off the panel. " Loud and clear Elizabeth. Know what's going on?" He was strangely calm, probably because he was mostly annoyed than frightened, putting fear in reserve until he had something to actually be afraid of.

" I was going to ask you the same thing. Where are you?"

Rodney shined the beam of his light into the electronic guts of the door control system. " Uh... at the moment, trapped in the exceedingly less populated area of the city. Not too far from the infirmary I think."

" Who is with you?"

" Teyla, Ronon, Kace and Colonel Sheppard. We're all fine..." Rodney glanced back, shining his light on Sheppard. The man was still glancing around, looking nervous, but other wise seemed calm. Rodney just hope he stayed that way. " Yeah, peachy. Listen, so far this looks like some sort of combination lock and power down. The lights may be out, but I've gotten into one of the control panels and it still has that nice glowy quality to it which – as I certainly hope you know – means it's still working. So people with the right skills and knowledge should be able to get these babies open. If this is some kind of lockdown, it's one we've never seen before and – let's hope – has nothing to do with viruses."

" No reason to panic?" Weir said with a slight twinge of humor.

" Elizabeth, in situations like these, panic can't be avoided. Doesn't mean you can't also keep a clear head about it at the same time. I'll see if I can't get to you, but it may take a while."

" Understood. We'll do what we can from here. Keep in touch. Weir out."

Rodney reached into the crystalline intestines of the panel. He removed one hand to retrieve his pocket knife to cut the wires. Suddenly, the panel flickered, blinked out, while at the same time the lights flickered and blinked on. Rodney flinched back, craning his head around.

" What the hell!" He tapped his comm. " Elizabeth, who did that?"

" I have no idea, Rodney. Reports are coming in, the doors still don't work."

Rodney nodded though Elizabeth couldn't see it. " Obviously. It's like some weird power fluctuation. At least I hope it is or we're stuck here. We'll have to wait and see. Rodney out."

Rodney had to be quite proud of himself at the calm he was maintaining, though inside fear was trying to squeeze in as the dominant emotion. He couldn't explain this, had theories, ideas, but it was all speculation, and he didn't like that. Definite answers meant definite solutions. Without them, it was all blind luck, and when it came to unknown technology, going in blind was like driving through a hostile country without a map or weapon.

War analogy. Crap, I always suspected something about Sheppard was rubbing off. He looked over his shoulder at the Colonel. The man was still visibly nervous, still glancing around. Kace, who had been watching Sheppard intently, met McKay's gaze.

" Something about being trapped isn't sitting well with him."

McKay gave him the "no-duh" expression. " It's not sitting well with me, either."

Kace smiled. " I'm thinking for the same reason as Shep?"

McKay furrowed his brow at that. He was mostly chalking his own unease to his occasional claustrophobic tendencies. But as he thought about it, he came to realize something deeper, something more disturbing.

Sealed places – like cells, like prisons. Bad places, bad situation equaling bad memories. And until power returned to the door, there was nothing to be done about it.

Ronon must have sensed the similarities. He was looking less happy than usual. Only Teyla and Kace were calm, Teyla rubbing Sheppard's shoulder and speaking soft, comforting words. She adjusted the blanket around him, and it was then Rodney noticed John's hands were trembling.

The wait was obnoxiously long. Ten minutes according to Rodney's watch when the lights flickered off and the panel flickered on. McKay jumped at the opportunity, slicing wires and splicing them together. The door opened an inch, but the next combination of wires had them closing again. Then the panel died, and the lights returned. This time around, the wait was fifteen minutes before the lights died. McKay worked fast, barely twisted the wires, and the panel shut down on him before the results. McKay cursed, sweat beading his forehead and tickling down his neck to his back. The next wait wasn't long, five minutes, but he didn't have a chance to even look at the panel when it shut off again.

No rhythm to this meant a power fluctuation, maybe even something wrong with the generators. It was all increasingly pissing him off whatever the reason, and heads were going to roll if this was a man-made blunder. And when has it never involved the hand of man? Or, more appropriately, incompetent scientists? Yes, heads rolling, then stuck to a pike.

McKay turned to rest with his back against the wall. " Okay, if this is some kind of lockdown, then it was put into place as a practical joke. Except I'm not laughing."

Lights died, panel lived, and McKay scooted around, grabbing the wires, his haste making his hands shake and sweat making them slippery. He couldn't even twist when the lights returned. He slammed his fist into the wall.

" Damnit! Ow!" He shook his hand, blew on it, and remained crouched before the panel with hands at the ready.

The lights went out. McKay attacked, twisting wires until the doors slid open.

" Ah-ha!"

The doors slid shut.

" Son of a...!" he tried again. They slid open halfway, then slid shut again. Practical joke, definitely a practical joke. Maybe I should visit Chaya, see if she doesn't know who came up with this. Ascend, choke them, bash their head against an ethereal wall...

McKay tried a different wire combination. " Come on you stupid..." he snarled. The door slid an inch only to slide shut again. " You stupid piece of...! Come on!"

The lights flickered back on, revealing a face hovering on the right out of the corner of Rodney's eye. He whirled around with a yelp, jumping back, then breathing out a relieved sigh to see Sheppard crouched beside him.

" Sheppard, what the hell!" McKay snapped.

John jerked in startlement, doing another nervous look about. He was confused, uncertain, then lifted his hand, holding something out for Rodney.

A power bar.

Rodney looked from the bar to the thin worried face, then hesitantly took it. " Um... thanks."

He peeled off the wrapper and took a bite, which pleased Sheppard in a way that he appeared to visibly relax.

Teyla slowly approached John and knelt beside him. She placed her hand on his shoulder. " Colonel. perhaps it would be best if you returned to the chair..."

The lights died, and the panel glowed. McKay set the power bar on the floor and attacked the wires. Somewhere in the distance echoed the thump of another's failed attempt at getting a door open.

" They're coming?"

Rodney had barely heard it, but the voice, quiet as it was, had cut through Rodney's brain like a saw. With the flashlight held firmly between his teeth, he turned his head to illuminate Sheppard. The Colonel had himself pressed cringing against the wall wearing an expression of pure terror.

" He his shivering," Teyla said, trying to adjust the blanket to wrap around John.

" Bad memories," Kace said. " Real bad."

Rodney didn't know what to do, or say, and was officially a little terrified himself. He removed the flashlight from his teeth, but kept it trained on Sheppard.

" Um," he stammered, heart racing. Chances were, anything he had to say would end up making things worse. But stronger than that logic was the need to say something, anything, that might calm his friend. " No, no they're not coming. You're... um... safe. You're with us. You'll be all right. We won't let anything happen to you."

He didn't wait to see if his words worked. Since it was apparent Sheppard needed out of here, Rodney returned his attention to the panel.

The lights returned, and Rodney cussed in a non-stop stream of profanity, all while thumping his forehead against the wall. Then he just kept it on the wall, rolling his head back and forth, wishing torturous happenings to whatever Ancient had fixed the system to cause something like this to happen. He rolled his head toward Sheppard to see how he was doing. Sheppard was staring at him, worried, confused, still frightened but not on the level of terrified. Sheppard reached tentatively forward with a quaking hand, and in the same manner held out the power bar Rodney had set down.

Rodney wanted to laugh, and at the same time cry. Sheppard was nervous – of him, Rodney McKay, the man whose remarks had yet to ever put a dent in the Colonel's emotional psyche. It wasn't right, normal, and Rodney hated it. Sheppard wasn't supposed to be – no, more than that – Rodney didn't want Sheppard to be afraid of him. He didn't want Sheppard to be afraid period. It was a cruel existence to live like that, thinking even friends had the potential to cause harm.

Sheppard really was messed up.

McKay took the bar, and in return gave John a gentle pat on the shoulder. " Thanks." He then bit into the bar.

Sheppard began rocking and rubbing the side of his head, eyes squinting thoughtfully. With his other hand, the one in the cast, he pointed at McKay.

" S-Superman?"

This time, Rodney did laugh, albeit sardonically. " I think we already established that no one in this city thinks I'm superman."

The corner of Sheppard's mouth twitched upward. He was trying to smile.

" Superman."

McKay lifted his head from the wall. " Wrong, Colonel. You were right from the start. I am in no ways, by no means, Superman. I can't even get this damn door to open."

Sheppard nodded. " Yes."

" No, I can't. Stupid system is screwing with me."

Sheppard nodded harder. " Yes."

There was a conviction behind that simple word that startled McKay. Sheppard's usual show of faith was normally masked behind sarcasm and Sheppard telling McKay to shut up and get to work. But this was so... raw, clean, a kind of child-like certainty as though Rodney really could do anything, and Sheppard had no doubts.

Like he really was Superman.

McKay was so startled by it that when the lights next died, he didn't react for a moment. Then reality snapped him back, and he went for another assault, working fast. The door inched open, closed, opened halfway, closed, then opened – just as the lights came on – thus staying open.

" Yes!" McKay cried, and without thinking turned and grabbed Sheppard into a hug. The nauseatingly clear feel of bones through the shirt and blanket had him realizing what he was doing. He released John, but kept his hands on his bony shoulders.

" Oh, sorry. You all right?"

Sheppard was smiling at him, actually smiling, lop-sided, wistfully, a little vacantly as though the driver had ditched the car - again. Still, it was a good sight to behold.

" Uh," Rodney began. " Ronon, grab the chair. Teyla, help me move Sheppard."

Rodney took one of John's arms, Teyla the other, draping them around their shoulders and lifting John to his feet. They dragged him into the next corridor and when Ronon came with the chair, set the Colonel in it. They headed to the next barrier, passing the exit leading onto the balcony. The lights flickered off, and Rodney broke into a run for the next door. He slid to a stop, dropping to his knees and prying off the panel. Round two of wire configuration began, with the lights remaining off for much longer than last time.

" Uh, we've got a problem," Kace said. " Seems Shep's loose again."

Rodney snapped his head around, flashlight in teeth, casting the beam on an empty wheel chair.

" Phun uh a..." He pulled out the light. " Son of a...! What is his problem?"

" I think I know where he is," Ronon rumbled. Rodney scrambled to his feet. The door could wait. Besides, if they weren't all here to rush through it, then all efforts would be pointless. They hurried back up the corridor to where the light increased, and came to the balcony entrance.

There they found Sheppard standing at the rail, blanket wrapped tight around his skinny frame as the wind made the corners flap and flutter.

" Huh," Kace said, but didn't say anything more as he seemed to be musing something over. Rodney rolled his eyes and stepped out onto the balcony.

" Hey Sheppard, come on, we need to..."

John turned his head to look at Rodney.

He was smiling. Not wistfully, not vacantly. This one was pure, tired, but genuine – a smile of contentment, of peace. It had Rodney stopping in his tracks, and the words dying in his throat. But it wasn't just the smile that had knocked him.

Tears rolled down Sheppard's face.

" H-hey... Mc-Kay."

Rodney blinked. " Um... Hey..."

Sheppard looked back out over the ocean, glittering azure under a clear blue sky. Salt-scented breezes toyed with John's hair. He moved closer to the rail, to a pillar, leaning against it and sliding down to the floor, huddling himself into the blanket. Rodney moved in closer, slowly, uncertainly. He crouched beside Sheppard and looked into his face, at the heavy-lidded eyes and the placid smile.

John inhaled deeply through his mouth. " It's... nice... here," he breathed out. " Nice."

The crisis and the need to get the doors open left Rodney like water down a drain. And, oddly enough, so did every other immediate worry. He reached out a hand, and clasped John on the shoulder.

" Yeah, it is. It always is."

Teyla stepped onto the balcony, squatting beside Rodney. Sheppard stared at her, trying to fathom her.

" Teyla," Rodney said.

" Teyla," John repeated. " Teyla."

Ronon came in next, standing behind Rodney and Teyla. Rodney jerked his thumb at the big man.

" Ronon."

John nodded, as though agreeing. " Ronon. Dex."

Rodney chuckled. " Exactly." He looked back at the telepath leaning against another pillar, standing beyond the small group, but present as he was supposed to be. Not a team member, but a familiar and friendly face to John.

" K-K..." John stammered.

" Kace," all three of Sheppard's team said as one.

John sighed. " Kace. Kace. Kace... Kace, Teyla, Ronon, Rodney..." He returned his gaze to the ocean, repeating the names over and over, almost like counting. Teyla moved closer beside the Lt. Colonel, sliding her arm across his shoulders, pulling him in so that his head rested on her shoulder as he recited and watched the ocean glitter. Ronon stood protectively over them, and Rodney just watched as the Colonel recalled.

SGA

" Got it!" the tech called. The doors slid open, and Beckett, Lorne, and several medical personnel rushed through. The effort, though shortened now that the techs knew what they were doing, still felt like forever. Beckett was beyond worried to being almost frantic concerning the one patient that normally caused him the most trouble. Not that any of this was John's fault – normally, it was never his fault that misfortune smiled on him so much – but that didn't decrease the worry, only enhanced it. The fever aside, John was still weak, and relapses were a strong possibility for him.

They raced down the halls, passed a balcony, and on to the second door.

" Doc Beckett!"

Carson slid to a stop and doubled back to see Kace leaning out of the balcony entrance, pointing.

" What you're looking for's in here."

Kace stepped out of the way, allowing Beckett to enter to see his patient surrounded by his team. He was still wrapped in the blanket, leaning against Teyla who held him, with Rodney beside her and Ronon standing behind all three.

They said nothing, because there was nothing to be said. Feelings were mutual as they stared out across the sapphire bright ocean. When Beckett moved around them to get a look at John, it was to see him asleep, with a small smile on his peaceful face.

SGA

A/N: If you are wearying of the recovery aspect of the story and long for action, please stick with me. One more chapter of recovery to go after this one, then things will take an interesting turn.