AN: I'm floored by the response to part one, and thank you so much! I thought there'd be a second part to wrap it up and I was wrong, there'll be three, and this one is sad. It's a bit of a lull, and the next part will have more light-hearted fair mixed in. I'm always a scared fangirl to show depth because I suck at it, but hey, try and try again! Thanks to Linzi and gaffer for being my great betas, all remaining mistakes are mine, and thanks SLC for giving me a read through and a first impression on it, I need that more than you know! There's spoilers in this for Season 3 episodes No Man's Land and Misbegotten.

Part two

Ashes.

That was the bitter taste of truth in Elizabeth's mouth. The truth that Kevin had so bluntly delivered in Carson's office, and now as she sat beside John's bed, watching him sleep, she suffered the taste of ashes, and wondered what she could've done differently.

"Then you're effectively ending his life."

"I'm not going to go there."

Ladon was a head of state, with an allied world. John had ordered her not to cooperate.

"On my command authority, whatever he asks, don't do it!"

"…it is my own country's policy to never yield to terrorists."

She hunched over, ran her hand across the back of her neck. If she'd agreed to the trade, if she'd let Ronon and Teyla devise a plan that would've kept Ladon alive and safe, some kind of a fake trade…their own ambush … Could she have prevented this? Saved John the pain he'd had to endure?

Or, would it have been impossible, like she'd believed, because she knew Kolya. He wasn't stupid. Any trade would've been set on such terms that there wouldn't have been any subterfuge possible, and trying would've made the Genii commander undoubtedly angry.

"I don't suppose he could've done worse," she murmured, staring at her feet.

"Who could've done worse?"

Elizabeth dropped her hand, and looked up. "Rodney…" She tried to shake off her reverie, and glanced at her watch. "You're done early."

Rodney's face transformed from generic worry to embarrassed annoyance. "How'd you know?"

She was really too tired to hold his hand. "Everyone knows." It wasn't like he had any other reason to skulk outside of Heightmeyer's office and act sneaky when he was coming to and from his sessions. "A little advice," she offered, interlacing her hands and pushing them out from her body in a stretch, "don't hover outside in the hallway, peering back and forth to make sure the way is clear."

"I don't --"

"Rodney?"

He pulled up from what he'd been about to say.

"It's all right. No one faults you for having the intelligence to get help. In fact, I have the appointment immediately following yours."

Mollified, he asked, "Really?"

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, though she didn't imagine it went all the way to her eyes, as tired and weary as she felt. "Really."

"In that case," he said. "Who could've done worse?" Rodney's mind had leapt back to the start of their conversation.

Her eyes drifted from Rodney's waiting expression, to John's sleeping vulnerability. Carson had walked with her from his office to John's bed, using the excuse of needing to do a quick check on the colonel. While he was there, Carson had managed to coax a slurred, "M'fine," from John before warning Elizabeth that he was likely to be groggy and out of it for another hour or two.

Carson had his inventory and research to return to, including studying John's test results with a more thorough eye, and had left her alone. Ronon and Teyla had stayed for the first twenty minutes before another doctor had arrived and called them away for a post-mission exam. That was ten minutes ago, and she expected them to return any time now.

She'd been talking to herself, wallowing in recriminations left from the mostly one-sided conversation with Kevin. It wasn't as if it had been the first she'd thought about it.

"You can end this…"

"Strange, Doctor, I was just about to say the same thing."

"It was nothing," she replied quietly. "Just…thinking aloud."

There was just the one plastic chair pulled up alongside John's bed, and Elizabeth was currently occupying it. Rodney made a surprised sound, and tried to lean against John's bed without falling. "I can't believe it. He wasn't kidding."

"Who wasn't kidding?"

"Sheppard." Rodney gave up on leaning, and twisted at his waist, gently pushing John's feet to the side through the blanket. John responded by mumbling incoherently, and scooted his feet over in the direction Rodney had shoved. Satisfied, he turned himself back around, facing her, and pushing off with his feet, gingerly slid himself onto the gurney, making sure not to shake the bed. Once Rodney was settled, he grinned smugly. "He said you're terrible at lying."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. "I thought it was my bedside manner that sucked?" she finally said, feeling self-conscious.

"Oh." Rodney made a concentrated face. "Maybe that's what he said." He shook his head. "Does it really matter? You're lying now… You were thinking about what you could've done differently."

"Rodney!"

"You're just dying to know how I knew that, aren't you? Go on, ask me." He folded his arms and smiled smugly.

"Because you just went through the same scenario with Kate…you're wondering the same thing."

Elizabeth enjoyed the fish face moment, before Rodney straightened slumping shoulders. Just to add to his misery, she added, "Really, Rodney, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to make school age deductions."

Sheppard's foot jerked, and kicked limply against Rodney's back. When they looked up towards his head, his eyes were partially open, slightly dazed. "Shut-up," he enunciated slowly and carefully, his voice hoarse and soft.

There was a moment, just one, when Elizabeth wanted to stand, lean over John, brush the errant strands of hair away from his eyes, and place a small tender kiss on his forehead…just the barest touch of lips to skin. So that she would feel his life, his youth, and know that despite the galaxy's best attempts, John had survived.

The impulse only lived in that moment, and then it was gone. It would have been too personal, too much emotion. There'd been a time when she'd given into impulse, and gathered him in a hug after he'd been miraculously saved from his suicide mission. He'd reacted stiffly, taken by surprise, until moments later, he'd relaxed slightly into it.

John's progress towards accepting and trusting was slow, but she had no doubt, it was working, and to push too fast, too soon…

"We'll be quiet," she whispered. She settled for reaching for his hand, holding it for a moment, and giving him a soft smile. "Go back to sleep, John."

He was already fading away, his eyes drooping shut, and John barely managed a nod before he was back asleep. When Elizabeth looked away, she found Rodney still watching John, a stricken look on his face. "Hey," she said, reaching a hand to touch his knee. "He's fine. It's over, Rodney."

"Is it?"

Rodney broke his gaze away from John and met hers.

She knew what he meant. Kolya was still out there. And it wasn't just Kolya. It was the odds that living the life they were, the last trip home would probably be in a body bag. You can only cheat death so many times before it has the final say.

She was due in Kate's office, and what else could she say? Rodney was right, no matter how depressing it was being said so soon on the heels of almost losing John.

"It's over until the next time," she emphasized.

OoO

Rodney had been told coming to Atlantis would be an adventure. It was an honor. Not that they'd needed to convince him… But no one had told him, it'd be soul altering. No one had told him, he'd come to reconsider his basic tenets of character. No one had warned him just how much he'd come to care, to worry, to fear.

Elizabeth had left him with those final words…until next time…But she didn't know just how disturbing that thought was, rather than being reassuring. He didn't lift his chin, and nod slightly. He didn't make sarcastic comments, because Rodney figured sarcasm only took you so far. All he did was slide off the bed, take her vacated and still warm chair, and settle in to wait for Sheppard to wake up.

He'd told Kate that more than anything, he hated being helpless. He'd stood in the gate room, watched the live feed, and could only watch as Sheppard's life was taken right in front of him. There wasn't any mathematical equation that was going to reach through that camera and make it stop. There wasn't any device to repair or code to rewrite that would've stopped it. There had been nothing he could do.

Rodney wanted to tell Sheppard that he'd been forced to watch one of his worst nightmares. He wanted to tell Sheppard not to ever do that to him again. He wanted to tell Sheppard if he needed someone to talk to, that, well, Rodney would make him an appointment with Kate, because he completely sucked at helping anyone. As he lowered his head into his hands, and stared at the bland pattern on the tile floor under his feet, Rodney knew, the best he'd manage when Sheppard did wake, was something sharp, and brusque. Something like, "I seriously can't believe you were able to charm a wraith into restoring your life."

If their situation had been reversed, Rodney knew, the wraith would've killed him without a second thought. In fact, it was likely the wraith would've begged to be allowed to end it sooner rather than later, because Rodney just had that ability to irritate people and monsters alike.

There were moments where Rodney was beginning to suspect that divine intervention was a reality. Every time he thought Sheppard was dead, even when it seemed a certainty, the man lived. He came back, time and time again, and scientific probability only stretched so far.

"So, what, you've made a loophole for him?" Rodney asked, pulling his head up from his hands to stare at the ceiling. "You found a way to slide the non-interference for his life? What? I just really would like to know, because seriously, if he's under some kind of protection, it'd help my ulcer to know it now." Rodney paused. "And would it happen to extend to the members of his team?"

It wasn't like he expected an answer. It wasn't even as if he cared.

The figure lying in the bed in front of him was all he cared about.

When he closed his eyes, he saw Sheppard shackled to the chair. Saw the wraith pressing his sickly green hand against his chest, and Sheppard's head thrown back from the pain. Rodney couldn't erase the images of the stark white gag, tight against Sheppard's chin, or the way the small, bloody feeding mark had looked far too miniscule for the damage the wraith was doing through the grainy glimpses.

Rodney's anger had carried him through the first three hours. Rodney's fear and horror had carried him through the hours before they'd rescued Sheppard. But now, what was left?

"Rodney?"

Teyla's voice floated down from behind him, and Rodney turned to look at her, realizing for the first time… was he crying? He tried to swallow it away, but she wasn't capable of being the pillar of strength he needed to rise up past the emotions overwhelming him, and Rodney found instead, that she fumbled for his hand, gripped it, and together they shared a moment where their eyes were painfully glassy.

"He should be dead." It sounded almost like an accusation.

"But he is not."

"This time."

"There will be many dangerous times." Teyla let Rodney pull his hand away, and he tried not to miss the soft, dry warmth. "There will be lives lost, Rodney, but it is enough for today that John's was not one of them. There is nothing more we can do."

There was time that passed then—seconds, minutes? They both contemplated how close it'd been. When Teyla spoke again, her voice was softer, huskier. "Do you remember when you were taken on the wraith vessel not long ago?"

"That was different." Rodney wasn't sure how, it just was.

Teyla's smile was sad; she was still standing off to his side. "I believed I had lost all of you. That I was the only one left." When she stared at him long enough that Rodney met her gaze, she continued, "I had moments where I wondered if I would remain on Atlantis, or leave through the Stargate, become much like Ronon was, a lone fighter against the wraith."

"What about your people?"

"The time I have spent with you, John, Ford and Ronon…" Wistfulness crept across her, and she was the one to look away. "Life without this…without any of you…It would never be the same again."

"Oh."

She frowned and looked at him, and Rodney suddenly felt awkward. He made a waving motion with his hand. "Did I say that? What I meant was… I understand?"

Rodney did, really. At first, they'd been members of a team. Just people he worked with. But time changes everything, and feelings grow. He and Sheppard had formed a friendship of sorts early on.

After Sheppard had activated the throne chair without so much as a grunt of effort, he'd returned the next day, presenting himself to Rodney 'as ordered.'

"So, Major, you and I are going to be working closely together. I hope you aren't a fragile ego. I dislike wasting time on useless pleasantries and small talk…"

"Doctor…McKay, is it?" When Rodney had nodded, Sheppard had grinned. "McKay, the only fragile thing on this body is this one spot…"

When Sheppard had begun to unzip his jacket, Rodney had stepped back, coughed and said, "Fine, fine. Just so long as we are clear, I only want you for your gene."

The cocky smile had never slipped. "That's what they all say."

Now, over two years later, Rodney wished he could slap his past self. Sheppard had meant a lot more to him since then. Sheppard's ATA gene had allowed Rodney to receive the therapy. He'd taught Rodney how to hold a gun, how to be a member of a team, how to believe in himself in the face of the impossible.

He'd taught Rodney how to fly.

"I…uh…" Rodney climbed hurriedly to his feet. "I'll be back."

It wasn't running away. It wasn't.

OoO

Pretending to sleep when you really weren't was probably a low thing to do, and maybe later, Sheppard would feel guilty, but right now he really didn't give a damn. They were taking the risk by talking openly around him, assuming he was still in a drugged sleep. It wasn't his fault.

Teyla took the vacated chair. He peeked through barely cracked eyes, and she was too busy trying to find her equilibrium to notice. The shock of the last twenty-four hours was wearing off; the aftermath settling in on everyone. John was surprised at how much not being left alone right now meant to him. Waking up to find them sitting with him…

But, the conversations he was catching bits and pieces of…The next few days weren't going to be a lot of fun. It's always the 'after' that bites you in the ass. The 'during' was something that you got caught up in, and you had to swim with the current or spend a lot of time fighting against it. Either way, you were carried away or exhausted, and too busy to dwell on what was happening.

Sure as hell wasn't the case after the crisis was over.

So, Rodney was seeing Kate, and so was Elizabeth. John wondered how long it'd take them to suggest he go as well?

Didn't matter. He didn't need to go. It was kind of ironic. When he'd been trapped in the time dilation field, he'd still been full of insecurities. Not that he wasn't anymore, he was, but there had been a hell of a lot more back then. When no one had walked through that cave entrance after him, he'd begun to believe the worst. That he'd been written off, left behind, just like those soldiers he'd disobeyed a direct order to go back for.

Abandonment issues.

John knew how the system worked. He'd just hoped the people on Atlantis were better than that.

When they'd eventually shown up, six months later, he'd learned it'd only been hours for them. Hours. And they'd been frantically trying to rescue him the entire time. That was the turning point for him. His epiphany. He'd begun to trust, begun to open himself up just that little bit more.

And this time, when he'd lain on the floor of that cell, drained and weary, he hadn't given up hope that they'd come for him. Not even when the wraith had said they wouldn't. That he was going to die there.

In the end, he'd saved himself. The wraith had surprised him.

But his team had came for him, a little late, but sometimes it was true – it's the thought that counts. Their best wouldn't have saved him, but they'd never given up.

That was what left him in a better place than they were. He'd come out of this with the proof that he wasn't disposable. John's faith hadn't been misplaced. He had a team he could trust in, and while it didn't mean he wasn't going to wake up in cold sweats from nightmares in his foreseeable future, it did mean that he had something with which to hold onto during it. He had a team, friends…family.

The worst thing about it all was that Kolya was still alive. He was out there, somewhere, and the Genii soldier was dangerous. There'd been enough bad blood between them before this. He'd been a menace, an adversary, but now the stakes had been raised and John had meant it when he'd said the next time he saw Kolya, he was going to kill him. John only hoped he got the chance before Kolya ambushed them again, because maybe next time, he wouldn't take John. He'd take Rodney, or Teyla. Ronon. Elizabeth, or Carson. Someone he cared about.

"Teyla, has he woken up?"

John let Carson's soft brogue wash over him. His time of pretending to be unaware was coming to an end, but the peace had been nice while it lasted.

"I believe he's been awake for a while."

Huh. John opened his eyes slowly, and narrowed in on Teyla watching him, a gentle smile gracing her face. "You're sneaky, you know that?"

She answered smoothly, "I am not the only one."

He didn't have a good comeback for that, and anyway, Carson was leaning in, checking his pupils, lungs and wires, which was distracting, annoying, and blocking his sight of anything other than the white fibers in Carson's lab coat.

When Carson pulled back, he had a satisfied smile.

"Am I gonna live, Doc?"

"I think so." Carson's eyes crinkled with affection. "And, if you're a good lad," he teased. "Eat all of your soup, I'll even let you walk around a bit before bed time."

"Thanks, Dad…" John peered around Carson and fixed on Teyla. "Can I get a good night kiss, too?"

Teyla's eyes sparkled as she said, "I am sure Carson would not mind giving you one."

The humor carried their spirits for a few moments, before seriousness invaded. Carson's stare had grown melancholy and his eyes lingered too long on the wires coming from John's chest. "Now, how do you feel? Any more chest pain?"

John hadn't felt the vise return since the pacemaker had been put on his heart. All that remained was the lethargy from the drugs and partially, the events of the last day. John inhaled, as deep as he could, just to check. "Good," he said truthfully. "I feel fine, Doc."

Physically he did, aside from the discomfort from the incision, but he wasn't counting that. Mentally, he wasn't a hundred percent fine, but he wasn't as shattered as he figured they were. He hadn't had a lot of choices. Rodney, Elizabeth, Ronon and Teyla…they were going to be bearing the weight of responsibility, while John only had to live with the memories of being fed on, being locked up, being used as a pawn...

Okay, maybe it wasn't going to be as easy as he thought, still, he wasn't as screwed up as it seemed Rodney and Elizabeth were. Teyla appeared to be coping like she normally did. And Ronon…

"Where's Ronon?"

Carson looked absently over his shoulder, towards the door. "Oh, I sent him to find Rodney. He still hasn't had his post-mission exam."

John half snorted, half chuckled, which pulled his stitches and made him wince. "He'll appreciate that," he recovered enough to say.

"Perhaps I should go and help Ronon?"

"You could," agreed Carson. "And Teyla, tell Rodney to grab something to eat first, would you, love? I don't think he's barely eaten since this all started."

There wasn't any need for words, and Teyla inclined her head in the way she had, before leaving to do her thing. Ronon and Rodney wouldn't know what was coming, though the odds were that Ronon and Rodney were already commiserating over cake anyway.

OoO

"So," Carson said, pulling up the chair and sitting down. "Now that I know you're not going to have a heart attack on me, would you like to know the official prognosis?"

Sheppard's eyebrow rose, his face scrunched, and Carson thought for a moment the colonel was going to say he'd rather not. Colonel Sheppard didn't like to know the details of his infirmary stays. Usually, he capitulated when offered the information, his sense of curiosity enough to overwhelm his preference to pretend nothing big was going on.

After the Iratus bug, Sheppard hadn't even asked about long-term effects. After he'd been infected with the retro-virus, Carson had had to volunteer the information that the lingering spot on his arm would eventually clear. Sheppard hadn't asked. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that the colonel felt he didn't need to know. Didn't want to know. It was enough for Carson to say, "You'll live."

The thing was, though, Sheppard wasn't like that in any other part of his life. It was exactly the opposite. Sheppard was constantly driven to know everything about a situation, Atlantis, his team…but not his medical condition. Not what Carson was doing to him.

Sometimes, the innate trust threw him. Carson was used to patients questioning every treatment, every decision he made, but not Sheppard. He protested being made to stay in bed, to ride on a gurney, to being fussed over…but he never questioned Carson.

The only problem, Carson wasn't so sure he was worthy of that trust.

"Doc, you haven't told me to start checking my passport. But if it helps, go ahead, tell me."

Someone had raised the head of Sheppard's gurney so that he was slightly elevated, and besides still looking a little sleepy, the colonel's color was back, and he looked almost normal. If you could ignore all the wires, and monitors he was still hooked to.

The slightly haunted edge to his eyes.

Carson made a mental note to see the nurse after this and put the orders in for the IV to go, if Sheppard kept down his dinner, and continued to do well on his vitals. They'd have to get him up and moving, also, show him how to be careful of his wires while walking.

"The repeated feedings put a heavy strain on your system. I've studied your test results, and I believe it was the feeding before he restored you that's to blame for your current condition. Even though the wraith stopped before you died, he did tell Kolya you were near death. The aging of your heart caused a block along the sinus node --"

He drifted off because Sheppard was making an odd face. "Colonel?"

"Just finish, Carson."

He was hiding something, but Carson wasn't sure whether to press him. "If there's something you're not telling me --"

Carson's thoughts went to prisons, torture, and abusive guards, and he was sure his face blanched, as he slid forward in the chair, all ready reaching for the blanket, just to check for bruises that he might have missed. Sheppard had been out of their sight for a lot of his confinement.

Sheppard's face cycled through confusion to clarity then to embarrassment, as he pushed a hand over the blanket to keep it down and blurted, "No!" He looked cross-eyed at Carson and seemed to do a mental shudder. "Jesus, Doc, you've been watching too many movies."

"Then what aren't you telling me?"

He hadn't meant to, but Carson had effectively maneuvered John in a position where he had to fess up, or risk feeding Carson's worry about sexual abuse. If it weren't for the fact that he was only looking out for Sheppard's health, he would've felt a little guilty for it.

He almost retreated, almost gave Sheppard the space he wanted, because of how the man seemed to wilt inside himself, disappear in the memory of whatever he was keeping to himself.

When his voice finally came, it was as if Sheppard wasn't in the room with Carson anymore. He was back on the planet, seeing something else other than the burnished walls of the infirmary.

"After we escaped, we couldn't find the 'gate." Sheppard's eyes were unfocused. "We spent the night in the forest, hiding from the Genii soldiers. That morning, they found us. The wraith was injured, near death from our escape. Knowing I couldn't fight any longer, he fed again, to get healed enough to kill the soldiers."

Carson interrupted, "You were fed on…a fourth time?"

His surprised outburst startled Sheppard back from wherever it was that he'd gone to, and the colonel's hazel eyes lost that far away look.

"Yeah, but if he hadn't…they would've killed him, taken me back, and if I'd managed to live until you rescued me, it would've only been for the remaining ten, fifteen years…? On Earth." Sheppard inhaled, exhaled, and settled his focus on the wall across the room. "That last time…he took a lot. I thought I was a goner. But he did what he had to do, to save us both."

There it was again. That unsettling acceptance of a wraith as something more than just a killing machine. Carson didn't know what to say to that. On one hand, he could understand Sheppard's insistence in setting it free. On the other, his mind drifted painfully to Michael, and the planet of wraith turned humans. The one where Sheppard had had no compunction in walking away and leaving them to fend for themselves; hadn't hesitated to destroy them.

They'd talked after, shared their regrets over a drink, or two…possibly three and four, Carson's memories of that night were a little muddled. But he remembered the important part. He'd seen the weight of Sheppard's regret at what'd happened, but it'd been regret over doing what he'd thought was necessary, and Sheppard would've made the same choice again.

"Do you think we'll ever find a way to coexist?" Carson asked thickly. "That maybe --"

"No." Sheppard rolled his head on the pillow and stared at Carson. There was that regret, again, but also resolve. "There's always exceptions, Doc, that's how life works. But the whole 'wolves raising a baby' is the rarity, not the norm. Most of 'em will just kill the baby."

Carson nodded, stood. His knees popped, and he saw Kevin out of the corner of his eye coming his way, the inventory sheet looking rumpled and abused all ready. Figures they'd be in the middle of something that tedious and boring right now when he just wanted to disappear into his office and hide away. Sometimes, things just hurt. "I know you're right, Colonel." He smiled wanly. "I just wish it didn't have to be that way."

Wished he hadn't had to betray Michael; to kill…do harm. Even though Michael had returned the betrayal in kind, he hadn't killed Carson, but his gut told him that given the chance, Michael would've. The circumstances were different, and Michael had had no reason to feel anything but hatred towards Carson.

He took another clinical look at the monitors. Sheppard was recovering nicely. He motioned at Kevin that he was coming, and then lingered. "Colonel, what you said to the wraith…"

Sheppard's brow scrunched. "Yeah?"

"Will you really be able to kill him?"

The colonel's face grew inscrutable. He looked away from Carson. There wasn't an answer.

Maybe there shouldn't be.

Maybe Sheppard didn't know.

"I'll send a nurse in a few, Colonel. Get some more rest." Carson left, feeling nothing but bitter regret for leaving Sheppard's thoughts on something they all probably wanted to forget. Sometimes Carson could be a stupid git and a half.

TBC ( I know, groans, sorry!)