A/N: Yes folks, not much father left to go. Thanks for the many reviews, and I do mean many. I never thought this story would be so darned enjoyed. But I'm glad it is.

22

The gate was active when they arrived, with jumper two circling it like a bee hovering around a flower. The IDC was sent, along with a request for a medical team, and when the okay to come through followed, the jumper tilted toward the gate and eased into it. They whipped through the wormhole, and eased out the other side to rise into the jumper bay. The bay doors whined open to Beckett and a med team heading their way with gurneys and supplies. Stackhouse's team left the jumper first and was immediately accosted by several of Beckett's staff. Beckett and a nurse continued on into the less crowded jumper.

John cringed. Beckett was going to be pissed, very very pissed. Not only at John, but at everyone, probably mostly everyone since he'd hammered home the importance of keeping an eye on John into everyone's head. Plus how John was not supposed to take part in the rescue actions that involved infiltration and release. Guilt would have been like acid eating away at John's chest, but sleep was a heavier burden on him, trying to draw his eyelids closed. And he was cold, very cold.

" Oh bloody fires of hell!" Beckett bellowed.

John flinched, then flinched again at cold metal against his blood-slicked skin as scissors cut the bandages. He winced when they were pulled away, biting back a cry at the reawakened pain.

" Oh that's a bloody lovely mess. What the hell happened?"

John angled his head back enough to see Carson kneeling beside him with head turned to Rodney. Rodney, blanched, was wringing his hands together almost fearfully, which made sense since it was Rodney who'd be getting the big needles next inoculation time thanks to life's aptitude for doling out the irony.

" Uh..."

John gathered his waning strength enough to lift his head. " My fault Carson," he slurred slightly. " Things changed, we needed a new plan, and the one I came up with was kind of against your orders. There wasn't much of a choice, but it was all my idea so I'm the one you need to be mad at."

Carson's glare was already on him. " Oh, I am lad, I am. You and I are going to have quite the discussion concerning listening to your bloody doctor when you're stable. Why it's so bloody hard for ya to listen to me..."

John wasn't listening to him now. All noise drifted into the back to become muffled echoes like dream residue. He lost the fight against his heavy eyelids, and let them close.

SGA

Ah, good 'ole heart monitor. Music to my ears. John smirked. He was warm, incredibly, comfortably warm. Those were the first two sensations he came awake to, the third – more like a realization – being that he was lying on his stomach. Fourth was textures, namely that of a gown that covered his front but was open at the back. Gowns were smoother than the blankets. Fifth he discovered when he move his head to turn it the other way, and pain throbbed through his skull down his neck. He winced, tensing, then relaxed when the throb dulled.

" Crap," he moaned.

" Ample description."

John turned his head back, suffering another throb, and peeled his eyes open. The light urged the throb on, so he snapped his eyes back shut. " Son of a...!"

" Better description," said Kace. " You know what pain feels like to a telepath?"

John, refusing to open his eyes, sighed contentedly when the pain eased. " No, what?"

" Sharp. Pulsing, dancing... kind of alive. Also like a memory. We don't really feel the pain, but know what it's like, you know? Kind of brings the heart rate up too. Very unpleasant."

John gulped back bile trying to burn into his throat. " Try being my skull..." he then groaned, and whimpered, when nausea threatened, spurning his head on to flare back up in pain. " What... What's going on with me? I thought I just got cut." He grimaced, and kept his mouth clamped shut rather than risking anything coming up.

" Infection," Kace explained. " Slapped you with a fever that's knocked you for a loop. You've been out of it a whole day and a half. Panting and sweating for the most part, vomiting once."

The magic words. John's stomach seemed to buck, shoving up the bile, and he lurched to the side in time to expel. Kace had a basin under him at the same time for the brown liquid to stream into. John heaved, the liquid straining out of him until there was nothing left to strain, leaving him with dry heaves that seemed to want to crack his skull open. Tears mingled with sweat on his face, and when the dry heaves ended, he remained hanging over the side panting and shivering, squinting against the glaring lights. Kace stood from the stool and helped ease John back into the bed. John tucked his arms under his chest, shivering hard. He felt cold again, weak, and all around miserable.

" Th-th-that sucked," he whimpered. Kace pulled the covers further up to just below the base of John's head.

" I can honestly agree with you on that. Pain and sickness combined makes you feel like you're being drenched with oil and mud on my end. I think it's high time I brought in Doc Beckett."

Kace moved away from the bed, but didn't stay gone for long. When he reappeared a minute later, Beckett was beside him, pulling out the much despised ear thermometer from his pocket.

" Mr. Kace informs be you had a nasty parting with your last meal," Beckett stated matter of factly. He stuck the thermometer into John's ear, which instigated another spike of throbbing in John's head. When Beckett removed the device, he clucked his tongue.

" A wee bit high, but steady. Headache?"

John closed his eyes, gulping back more threatening bile. " Y-yeah."

" I'll give you somethin' for it, which should help turn the volume down in your stomach. How's your back?"

John hadn't given his back much consideration with everything else hogging his attention, but now that his attention was brought around, he did notice a slight stinging the length of the gash. " Apparently sore."

Carson filled a syringe with contents from a small, glass bottle then injected it into the IV Port. Setting the syringe and bottle aside, he pulled back the covers to John's waist for the cool air to assault John's bare skin, then carefully began removing the cotton bandages and tape from the gash. Even with Carson being gentle with tape removal, his skin still pulled, turning the sting into a burn that had John wincing and digging his nails into the sheet covering the mattress.

" Well, the inflammation isn't as bad as this morning. Stitches are holding. May need cleaning though, but I'll wait until the pain meds kick in. Of course even with the meds it's going to be down right tender."

John felt sweat tickling down his sides, which made him want to laugh considering how cold he felt. Fevers were such schizophrenic SOBs, unable to decide on a single course of action for tormenting the body. They always had to go multifaceted, especially concerning temperature. John was shivering thanks to the sweat drenching every inch of him. Then Beckett – or maybe it was a nurse, he couldn't tell in his massive state of discomfort – began cleaning around the edges of the wound, wiping away sweat and disinfectant ointment. Rolling his eyes up, John saw Beckett hovering over him, placing on the stethoscope. Definitely not Carson doing nurse's work.

Carson placed the stethoscope on John's sides then back, telling him over and over to breathe in and exhale, breathe in and exhale.

" So what have I missed in my day and a half of oblivion?" He said, the words coming out in a moan. The sponge the nurse was using was like ice every time it touched his skin, doubling as a fever reducer.

" Well," Kace said. " This morning a few of your men went back to Raal to see if any assistance was needed. Besides chief Commander, his council, and several soldiers, the fatalities weren't that great. No townsfolk were taken, and they're already setting elections for a new leader. Not only that, they've begun rethinking the whole Chief Judge position. Your boys gave them the advice to elect more than one judge and set them up all over rather than in one spot. They're also rethinking some of their laws and plan to add a few that limits the Chief Commander's power. Oh, and get this, all of Harl's prisoners? They survived. Seems the wraith couldn't figure out how to get through the cells. All in all not a lot of cleanup, just a lot of reestablishing. Oh, and guess who's running for Commander office? McKay's pal, the one he beat up at the bar."

John's head shot up at this. " McKay beat that guy up? Seriously?"

" That's what Ronon told me. Plus I caught a quick peek of the action from McKay himself. Ask him about it sometime. At any rate, Raal's doing good considering. Nothing like near extinction to tidy up a place. Raal's going to be fine. Even better than that, Harl's been banished from the city and banned from the gate, so I doubt you'll be hearing from him again any time soon."

John smirked in satisfaction, setting his head back on the pillow with a contended sigh that became a wince of alarm when the sponge brushed the wound itself.

" Sorry Colonel," said the female voice. The nurse was careful, barely eliciting any pain from the wound.

" Sounds like happy days for all of us," John said.

" Not a bad little adventure I have to admit. Life hasn't been that interesting for me since before I left my home world."

John flicked his eyes up at Kace. Beckett had gone, leaving only John, Kace, and the nurse.

" You really have a talent for saving my ass," John said, " you know that?"

Kace shrugged with an indifference that John didn't believe for a moment, then tapped the side of his head. " Comes with the territory. And besides, you weren't the only one whose 'ass' I was saving. I'm a man who looks out for his own interests if you recall."

John smiled. " Actually, I didn't even know."

Kace waved a dismissive hand. " Ah, that's 'cause I'm getting too soft."

They fell into momentary silence with the only sounds being the heart monitor and the splash of water whenever the nurse resoaked the sponge. She softly patted it along the gash, which felt good seeing as how it was the only area of flesh actually feeling the heat of the fever.

Then Kace cleared his throat. " I uh... I kind of over heard – on the mental ambient – something about... a favor. Or returning a favor... not that I'm expecting it or would ever ask for a favor returned but... what I, uh, kind of overheard, well..."

John furrowed his brow. This was the first time John had ever seen KAce honest to goodness awkward, complete with him rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. It took a moment of thinking to figure out what it was that got Kace so abashed, then John lifted his brow in realization.

It felt like so long ago he'd nearly forgotten. " It's the least we can do," he replied, interrupting Kace's stammering.

Kace dropped his arm, blinking in surprise. " Can it be pulled off? It's a big planet, with my people all over it and the Regime just as scattered."

John moved his head in a nod. " Some battles you win with force, some you win with brains, others with a good bluff and sheer dumb luck. I've got brains contrary to what Rodney insists, and I know how to bluff. Dumb luck shouldn't be required, but regular luck should do the trick."

Kace stared bewildered at John for a moment. Then his face broke into a smile, his voice a chuckle, and he clasped John's fevered shoulder. " I don't doubt your luck, friend Shep. It may not be pretty at first glance, but it seems to come through for you just fine."

The sponge snagged a stitch, making John flinch. " If only I could believe that."

SGA

John scuffed his booted heel into the soft sand below the black seated swing, pushing back then lifting his foot to swing forward. On going back, he jammed his heel into the sand to hold himself for a few seconds before releasing and swinging again. Beside him, a slender women with shoulder length, dark brown hair and wearing a white dress with small yellow flowers pushed at the sand with one bare foot enough to keep her own swing in motion, but barely. She swayed back and forth, digging her toes into the suppled sand before lifting her foot up to spread and wriggle them until the sand fell loose. The playground around them was empty, probably because it was a weekday, or more likely because that's the way John wanted it to be. A soft, cool breeze he actually felt made the leaves of the trees rustle like distant ocean waves, and between the cool was the warmth of the bright sun soaking into the back of his black T-shirt.

" So," John said, putting a little more momentum into his swing to get the chains to groan, " what am I forgetting?"

The woman, smiling, breathed deep the cool air and let the breath out with a sigh.

" Nothing," she pleasantly stated.

John snorted derisively. " Oh come on, mom. There's something. There's always something. Why else would I be here?"

His mother shrugged. " Does there always have to be a reason? Just enjoy the moment, Johnny. You need it. You deserve it. You earned it."

" What I deserve are some answers."

His mother pursed her lips pensively. " True... were there any to give." She then smiled at him. " Honestly, Johnny, there's nothing left. This is nothing more than a moment of clarity, a moment of quiet, that's all." She studied her son's face, her momentum slowing to a stop, and her smile fading. She became sad, and John's heart began to pound, his body growing cold, and his throat tightening off. He wracked his brain for whatever it was he was missing, or purposefully blinding himself to. When his mother's eyes shimmered with moisture, John's heart slammed.

" What?" John said, his voice cracking. " What is it? What am I missing? What am I forgetting?"

A tear rolled down his mother's face. She reached out to him, and began running her fingers through his hair like she used to when he was five. " Oh Johnny..." she said, and her own voice cracked. Then she smiled, sadly, but in a reassuring way. " Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nothing to figure out, nothing to realize, and nothing left to fight. You're free John. Just... let go. It's okay to let go now and then."

She then thumped him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. " Come on, swing with me." She pushed against the ground, swung forward, and pumped her legs to increase the motion.

John shook his head, chuckling sheepishly. " Um..."

" Don't even give me the being 'too old for this' nonsense. You used to love swinging. Said it was like flying. And remember that towel you used to wear like a cape every time we went to the park...?"

John quickly pushed off from the ground. " All right, All right, I'm swinging! Crap, just had to bring that up..."

His mother laughed with a sound that was clear as motionless water. " This is your mind, Johnny. I'm just going with the flow. Would you rather I bring up the time when you were four and insisted on wearing nothing but your underwear...?"

" Mom!" it would have sounded more forceful had John not been struggling against the need to chuckle.

" It was a step up from wanting to be naked, which you also insisted on for a while." The tears were gone, and her bright smile had returned. " Our neighbor Mrs. Carlyle used to comment about how we found you being raised by wolves and that we were trying to integrate you back into human society."

John couldn't hold it back any longer, and let himself laugh, his mother joining him with her softer snickering.

" See?" his mother said breathlessy, stretching her legs on swinging out then tucking them back in, rising higher and higher. They were swinging in time, the breezes becoming wind roaring through their ears, then stopping during that fraction of a second when both became suspended in the air before swinging back. " You are capable of enjoying yourself. It's all right to enjoy moments of peace, John, and to have them. Whatever comes next, whatever happens, these moments do follow. It's just up to you whether or not you take hold of them for all they're worth."

On the next swing forward, now that he was high enough, John jumped from the swing, reveling in the moment of weightlessness.

Then he opened his eyes, and the breeze was replaced by still air, the rushing of leaves a heart monitor, and coolness heat. He closed his eyes in hopes of slipping back into the dream, the dream that he remembered with a clarity that pained him. The image of his mother was the most perfect he had conjured in years, and her smile pricked his heart, making it thump uncomfortably. His eyes stung with tears that he held back by squeezing his eyes tight until they diminished. He pulled in a shuddering breath, and shifted, rolling onto his side because his chest was aching.

He chanced opening his eyes again, gaze going straight to the tray where a plastic pitcher and cup sat. He stretched his arm toward the cup, only to have it taken from him by long, slender fingers, along with the pitcher that was lifted and tilted into the cup. The cup was then placed into Sheppard's reaching hand. He lifted his head and took tentative sips.

" Are you all aright, Colonel Sheppard?"

John nodded as he sipped, then handed the cup back over to her, panting with the monumental effort that needed to be exerted for that one action. " Fantastic. Why?"

" Your face is wet. I thought you might have been crying."

John raised his hands to his face and brushed moisture away with his fingers. He looked at his wet fingertips with raised eyebrows. " Huh." Oddly enough, he didn't feel ashamed about Teyla's awareness of it.

" Bad dream?" She asked.

John shook his head, dropping his hand back onto the mattress. " No. Awesome dream, actually. The kind you never want to wake up from."

Teyla nodded. Always understanding, that Teyla. If anyone had to catch him at crying, he preferred it to be her. He wiped the moisture from his face with the heel of his hand then hunkered down deeper into the blankets when a small draft of air made him shiver.

" So how long has it been now?" he asked. " Sleeping sporadically and passing out a lot kind of makes it hard to differentiate days."

" Three days have passed since our return from Raal. Dr. Beckett says you are showing signs of improvement, though the infection and blood loss has weakened you considerably. He is anxious to get you back on solid food before you lose any of the weight you had managed to gain. He says he does not want to lose you 'slipping down the drain when you next take a shower,' or something along those lines."

John chuckled softly. " Oh man. The only problem with the whole weight gain issue is that the man doesn't seem to know the difference between too thin and slender. So a couple of guys under my command could probably bench press me. That doesn't make me some kind of malnourished wimp. Well, when I'm 'healthy' it doesn't make me a malnourished wimp. I won't argue with his logic on the bad days."

Teyla smiled warmly. " I have never thought of you as such, even on the bad days. You have great strength no matter your condition. Even Ronon has said so."

John lifted his head in surprise. " Ronon, really?" Then dropped it back onto the pillow. " Cool." He smirked. " So you really think I'm strong?"

Teyla smirked back. " If not in body, then in heart. But I have always believed that real strength does not come from muscle and sinew, but from deeper within. It is a strength that enables us to go on with life through tragedy and heartache. It motivates us to survive, to push through." Teyla placed her hand on John's head, and leaned in, lowering her voice. " And it is the reason you are still here with us now."

John smiled at that, his chest warming until his whole body finally stopped twitching from the slightest waft of cool air slinking into any available gaps within the mound of blankets burying him.

Teyla then removed her hand from John's head and sat straighter on the stool, grinning with a spark of what John could have sworn was mischief in her eyes.

" But do not think that strength makes it all right for you to put yourself in danger."

John snorted. " Oh come on. Do you people seriously think I do all that crap on purpose? I mean, yeah, I piss a few people off on occasion, but it's not like I jump up and down screaming 'shoot me.' Hell I could say the same thing about the rest of you. Stop putting yourselves in danger and I wouldn't have to keep hurting my ass saving yours. Or maybe I should be telling this to McKay. Where is he anyways?"

" Getting lunch. He should be back soon."

" And Ronon?"

" Most likely still eating lunch."

John's mouth flooded with saliva. With nausea no longer forming a wall of disgust at the mere mention of food, John's stomach was given free reign to grumble, growl, and slosh hollowly like a child shaking an empty sippy cup for more.

" Actually, lunch sounds good right about now. Any chance..."

" Dr. Beckett had asked Dr. McKay to bring you some soup," Teyla replied, still all grins.

John sighed in relief. " Soup, I could go for soup. I'd rather go for a sandwich, but right now I'm hungry enough for a power bar. So how are our two absent team members?"

Teyla pressed her lips together in a moment of thought. " Quite well, actually. Ronon and I have begun sparring again, and he looks forward to being able to run with you in the mornings. Dr. McKay is... well, there have been fewer complaints about him. And I find him to be far less... sarcastic."

" As compared to when?" John retorted.

Teyla averted her gaze to her lap, and for several drawn out seconds, did not speak. " The time that you were gone..."

John wished that he could sit up, his body suddenly tense and agitated, but way too weak to even allow him to keep his head up.

" Things were not well with us," Teyla went on. " It was difficult for us, all of us but... It was especially difficult for Ronon and Dr. McKay."

John didn't like hearing that, and swallowed nervously. " I thought those two more than anyone knew good and well that there could come a time when I'm not around anymore."

" That does not mean they would accept it. It was more than just your absence. We searched for you, and the more we searched, the harder it became. Having you back... No one wishes to think about such possibilities, not with you here, now, safe. Besides, as you have said, you could say the same for the rest of us. There could come a time when we are not around anymore. But do you dwell on that as well?"

" I'd rather not."

" There are some things best not pondered. Acknowledged, yes, but not dwelt upon."

John curled his thin fingers into the mattress. " I wouldn't let you guys go."

" And we wouldn't let you go."

John smiled and rolled his eyes back up to Teyla. " Then it's all good. Especially seeing as how we're all still here, on the mend, one way or another."

Teyla nodded, and leaned in some with her elbows on her knees. " How are your memories?"

John rolled his eyes up as he turned inward, sifting through thoughts, bad and good, to see what they conjured, testing his brain. " Clear as glass and obedient as an old dog. I haven't thought this clearly since... well, obviously before Harl got that device on me."

" Do you remember anything of your capture?"

John shrugged. " Bits and pieces, kind of like a bad dream, except bad dreams don't make me shudder when I remember them. Some stuff I'm recalling clearly, bad stuff, painful. Other stuff... I can't really explain it. Weird stuff, like real dreams, but not bad or anything. I try to remember but, I want to remember... Whatever it was, it was good, and that's all I know, because it doesn't make my gut twist every time I try to think back on that particular... um... whatever it is... was."

" And you do not know what this 'good' was?"

John shook his head, furrowing his brow as he again tried to pull to the surface fleeting images the antithesis of his experience on Raal. " I wish I could..."

Teyla reached out and put her hand on John's arm. " You were alone, in pain, confused. I believe there will be many memories you will be unable to recall. But does it really matter?"

John shrugged again. " I suppose not. But it'd be nice to have something good to remember. It's like... I don't know. Being in pain's the big thing I remember. I mean, kind of hard not to. But alone?"

The infirmary doors slid open, and McKay, Ronon, and Elizabeth came in with McKay carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of milk.

" It's weird... because... it doesn't feel like I was ever alone."

SGA

A/N: Now all that is left is the epilogue.