A/N: Applause, hugs, and gooey delicious pastries for all you reviewers. Now time for things to wind down... or is it?

Ch. 24

Off-Worlder

Thin fingers of mist wrapped around Maj's ankles when she kicked through the thin veil that would thicken by sunrise. She swept the beam of her electric torch over the ground Ris led her across. The mini-iaret was a bundle of agitation, trotting back and forth, chirping, hopping, and flapping about. Maj was huffing and puffing just to keep up, and could hear the heavy breaths of her nephew and the three other men of the village behind her. They trudged up the rocky incline leading to the cliffs. The noise of the iarets was loud but not urgent. Something had happened here, but it was over now.

Maj picked her way carefully onto the bluff then onto the path that wound down into the ravine. Gidel kept hold of one of her arms as they half-slid and half scuttled down the precarious trail. Maj would occasionally peer over the edge and shine her light down. She saw iarets gathered all over the ravine, clustered together or spread wandering as though keeping watch.

" John!" Maj called. No answer.

It took what felt like an eternity to reach the bottom, and their presence sent many of the iarets scattering into the air, and several others bounding in close but not too close as though expecting food to be tossed to them.

" John!" Maj called again. Her heart beat fast and hard, then even harder when her light flashed off a massive, glittering stain of frozen black blood. She saw claw marks in the stone, and splashes of blood painting the canyon walls and ground. Smears of it, and flecks, most of it black, but a few drops shimmering red.

Then her light whipped over something sticking out from beneath a cluster of curled up iarets. Maj put her hand over her mouth and approached this object that her light revealed to be a boot. When she was within five feet of the cluster, the iarets croaked, rose, and scattered.

Left behind was a monster's head unlike any creature Maj had ever seen, and John's bleeding, shredded body.

Maj's breath caught in her throat. " John!" She ran to him, and dropped to her knees beside him, reaching out to his neck and placing her fingers on the pulse point. John's blood pulsed weakly under her fingers, and Maj released her pent up breath on a sob.

" Oh John," she gasped. His shirt was shredded and blood-soaked, and her light showed her the tissue deep gashes leaking rivulets of blood. She heard heavy footsteps coming toward her, and looked away to see Gidel and the other three men rushing over carrying a blanket between them to use as a stretcher.

" Hurry!" Maj urged. " We need to get him inside."

Maj stood and stepped out of the way for Gidel and the rest to surround John. They spread the blanket out beside him, then crouched and gently lifted John to transport onto the blanket. John neither stirred nor made a sound. The men lifted the corners and edges of the blanket and proceeded to carry John back up the winding path. Maj followed, casting one last look over her shoulder at the smaller stain of red blood already beginning to crystallize in the frigid air.

All throughout the canyon, the iarets returned to their nests and fell silent.

SGA

Sometimes John dreamed, and felt in those dreams. Sensations of floating pleasantly, then of surrounding liquid warmth. Pain interrupted the sensations, making him want to writhe, though he wasn't quite sure if he was. He dreamed of moving, trying to escape the pain, and groaning out or whimpering when he couldn't. Then a calm, gentle voice would shush him, and warm, dry fingers would run through his hair. The voice would say things to him, things he couldn't understand, but didn't really care to. The soothing, quiet tone of the voice was good enough for him, and made the pain bearable.

It made him think about his mom, and wonder if this was her speaking to him. He was dead, after all. So why couldn't he see her? He wanted to, and fought to open his eyes. He heard the glittering chime of music, which drove hard the incentive to see. He struggled and fought, though it spiked the pain as well as made him aware of other aches in his body. Sometimes, the voice cleared, and he heard words, most of them urging him to wake up.

Then, finally, he saw a thin sliver of light that grew as he forced his eyelids apart. Brilliant white light blinded him, and he squinted against it.

Heaven?

Then his sight cleared to reveal to him chimes of various designs swaying and flashing light and colors onto the ceiling and walls. John knew those chimes, as he knew these walls, and blinked slowly in surprise.

I'm not dead.

John shifted and the movement made his body throb uncomfortably. In turn, he sucked in a sharp breath that tickled his lungs and turned the aches into pains when his body convulsed in a coughing fit. A warm, dry hand slid behind his neck and lifted his head, and a cup touched his lips, tilting and dribbling cool water into his mouth. John reached out with a trembling hand to try and take the cup to tilt it more. The cup pulled away before he could, and his head was set back onto the pillow.

" That will have to do for now. Can't let you have too much or you'll be sick."

John nodded. He'd heard it before, and experienced it. He turned his head enough to see Maj sitting on the edge of the bed at his hip, staring down at him and giving him a tired smile.

" It's about time you woke up," she said. " You were starting to make me wonder if you've given into laziness."

John smiled just as wearily. " I'm already lazy," he croaked.

Maj's smile became a smirk. " Well, you've certainly fooled me otherwise. How are you feeling? Are you hungry? You've been under for nearly three days and are starting to run a fever. I want to try and snuff it before it turns into anything nasty, which means getting you to eat."

John swallowed uncomfortably and rasped, " Th-three days?"

Maj nodded. " Yes. And don't look so troubled. Three days isn't so bad and your body needed it. You were exhausted and had lost a bit of blood. Those scratches were deep, and most I had to stitch close. Then there's your poor arm. A break near the shoulder joint I had to reset, and your collarbone is broken. And, oh, don't even get me started on your ribs. Terrible mess. I had to reset three and pretty much the whole lot are broken and cracked except for one or two. You were lucky they didn't puncture anything."

Maj's rundown of the injuries made John a little more aware of his body beyond the aches and pains. He felt the soft cloth of bandages around his chest as well as his arm, which seemed to be bound against his body to keep it immobile. He lifted the blanket enough to see himself, yet again, dressed in the over-sized shirt and loose trousers of an invalid. He grinned, and began chuckling softly.

Maj narrowed her eyes at him seriously. " What's so funny?"

John dropped the blanket and sighed. " Your planet is abusive to me."

Maj pursed her lips and shrugged. " It's abusive to most of us. But, yes, there seems to be some unseen force intent on bringing you down. Although your incorrigible nature isn't doing any favors for you either. You shouldn't have faced that beast alone, John."

John ran his fingers along the hem of the blanket. " That's why I lured it to the canyons, so I wouldn't be facing it alone. Those iarets did a good job, they just took their sweet time about it."

Maj placed her hand on John's knee. " We really need to get you home so this world doesn't end up being the death of you."

" Yeah, but then some other planet probably will. Listen, Maj, I'm sorry if I seem to keep diving head first into trouble, but it's second nature for me. Serve and protect goes right on up there with leave no man behind, so I usually don't think twice about it." Or dying, which John had been so certain would happen. There was no high of being alive for him, just a sense of relief that seemed to drain him. He'd been ready to die, he just hadn't wanted to, and he was both reeling and content that he wasn't.

Maj patted his knee, staring at her wrinkled hand. " You've no need to explain it, John," she said. Then didn't say anything else. John wondered with a sinking feeling if Maj had taken momentary refuge in Fiel's room again while he was under. This woman who had taken him in without question kept saving his life, and all John seemed to be doing in return was breaking her heart.

" You know," he said. " What with the wraith dead, the beast gone, and Leyn out of the hair of the town's kids, I think it would be fine for me to call in vacation time and never step outside the door until your pass comes. Wouldn't want some dead branch dropping out of a tree and smashing me in the head just because I decided to go for a walk or something."

That got a small smile to return to Maj's face. " The people of this village owe you a lot. They'd slap a citizenship on you if you asked."

John cocked an eyebrow inquisitively. " Are you saying I should?"

" Oh bleed-it no! I strongly advise against it. But you've no need to worry about keeping watch of your own back. For the past three days I've had a constant river of visitors asking about your well being."

John yawned until his jaw popped, then rubbed the side of his aching face. " It'll be nice to be able to walk down the street and be regarded as something other than the scum of the earth."

" No, you'll just get a gaggle of hero-worshiping boys being led by Dev trailing you. John, you've created little monsters. They're running all over the town playing monsters and heroes, and always arguing over who gets to be 'Mr. Sheppard.' Although it is nice to see the children out and about. The town's been too quiet with them being locked up most of the day so they don't end up vanishing."

John smiled, rubbing both eyes with one hand. Then he frowned, dropping his hand to his side. " Did many people get killed?"

Maj shrugged. " Not really. Those who got inside or were already inside were fine. Thirteen died in all, I think. Most of them Jorsek's men. And though I know you won't ask it, I also know you're thinking it. Jorsek's still alive. But he was put into a cell come the next morning after we found you. Tarl's doing since Jorsek had put the town in danger."

John wanted to laugh but knew it would hurt, so refrained and settled for a satisfied smirk. John was honest when he had said to Jorsek and his now deceased posse that he didn't hold grudges. He didn't, or he would have been spared the grief that was Koyla a long time ago. Grudges came gradually, over time and from a growing accumulation of grievances that made the grudge earned. John felt smug vindication for Jorsek's incarceration, but more than that he felt relieved that Jorsek was securely out of his hair now.

Which meant that – except for the return home part – this whole fiasco was over. John could relaxed, honest to goodness relax. And it felt indescribably wonderful. So wonderful that John's eyelids began to slide close without him.

" So all's well that ends well, huh?" John murmured. He felt Maj pat his knee again.

" You get better, then I'll agree to that."

SGA

Maj had caught the fever soon enough to keep it below raging, but even her healing skills couldn't stop it from running its course. A day after John woke up, the tickle in his lungs had become cotton lining the bottom that he could never completely hack up. And with shattered ribs and sore muscles, all that coughing hurt like hell. It also diminished his appetite so that he could barely handle broth.

But at least he wasn't delusional, which Maj insisted was promising. Should the fever reach the point that John was muttering in tongues and seeing dancing wraith, then she would worry. John felt a little put off by it. He may have hated mother-henning, but the indifference made him feel like a whiner every time he moaned and groaned after a coughing fit.

Then Maj would assure him that he had every right to moan and groan. He'd earned his pain, and therefore a bit of self-pity (though it didn't help that she had put it that way).

John was trying not to cough as Maj unwound the bandages from his arm and chest. John was able to see the hell hound's marks on him, and his mouth twisted in discomfort. The majority of them, even the smaller ones, were stitched, and still looked huge. Once again he marveled over and questioned his continuing existence.

" Ouch," he said, wide-eyed.

Maj gave him a crooked grin. " You should have seen them before I patched you up. You could see right to the bone on some."

John felt another small twinge of self-pity, and a bigger twinge of annoyance. The fever, all the resting he was going to have to do, and the appetite loss would set him back to square one. He was going to lose everything he'd manage to gain back.

Full circle. Why can't it involve saving some nice, pretty lady instead of me waking up wrapped up like some mummy no one cared to finish wrapping?

" I think the pass should be coming in another few days," Maj said. " Three, perhaps. We got a call that the mail's to come early since winter's showing signs of being early itself."

John nodded but said nothing. Three days sounded fair enough. He was anxious to go home, yet at the same time didn't like the prospect that he would never be able to return. He needed to set up sort of scheduling, some plan to meet with Maj on some other world.

He didn't want to have to say good-bye to Maj, and have it be the only good-bye they ever said.

A loud pounding on the door downstairs yanked John from his drowsy reverie, and Maj from her administration of the poultice to the stitched gashes. Maj leaned to set the bowls on the desk, and rose wiping her hands onto her maroon skirt. " That better not be more of those boys wanting to meet you. I already told them..." Maj's voice trailed when she left the room and headed down the stairs. Not long after, John heard the low murmur of voices that soon began to rise.

Footsteps clomped up the stairs. Ris, who'd been napping curled at the foot of the bed, raised his head and chirped.

" You can't do this!" John heard Maj shout, and he stiffened with a pounding heart. Ris pushed himself to his feet and arched his back.

A thick-bodied man in dark blue fatigues and jacket – a man John recognized as having accompanied Tarl to the ruins – stepped into the room tall, straight, and dead-pan.

" John Sheppard," he said in a deep, flat voice. The man's gray-blue eyes were cold and emotionally devoid. " I am to escort you from this house without incident. You must come with me, now."

The baleful 'now' actually made John flinch. The small but determined Maj squeezed her way through the solidly built enforcer to stand by John's bed with her arms folded and her expression challenging.

" He's not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about. Why is he under arrest?"

John started, looking from the enforcer to Maj.

" Ma'am, you are in no position to ask questions as you have been harboring an unregistered off-worlder."

John started again, and his heart thudded hard. He looked between Maj and the enforcer, feeling the edges of panic creeping in, but thinking fast enough to know to keep his mouth shut.

Like it helped. The enforcer was fast to lose his patience and faster to move. In three long strides he was by the bed towering over John. Ris hissed and hunched back as though about to pounce when Maj gathered him up into her arms.

The enforcer pulled a small hand-held projectile from the holster at his waist. " Mr. Sheppard, I advise you to do as you are told, and come with me."

Maj, pulled between anger and terror, shook her head stubbornly. " No, you can't do this. He was injured protecting this town and he's ill. He needs time to..."

" Now!" the enforcer barked, and pointed the gun at John.

John looked at Maj. Her anger was waning, and what he saw taking its place broke his heart. Fear, panic, and confusion. In that moment, Maj looked older, smaller, and frail, and John hated seeing it.

Resisting would shatter her. John knew that. So he forced his weary and aching body to move, going one leg at a time. He bit back a wince when pain thrummed around his ribs and through his arm that faltered his attempt to get up. Maj moved to help, but the enforcer beat her to it. He grabbed Sheppard's good arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. John clenched his jaw to keep from crying out.

" A-at least," Maj stammered, " At least let me get him a coat. The cold will make him sicker..."

The enforcer didn't listen, and definitely didn't care. He pulled John along out of the room, then down the stairs and through the open front door. Arctic air hit John before he was even over the threshold, soaking into him like water into a dry sponge, making his muscles pull and his body try to hunch into itself. The tension made the pain intensify. He began shivering from the cold and that pain. He stumbled and for a moment was dragged across the dusty street until he found his footing. He was led past the barn to the other side where three vehicles waited. Two were mini-cars, the other slightly larger like a truck with a compartment on the back – a compartment with a small door and two windows covered by wire mesh.

A prison wagon, and a cramped looking one at that.

Tarl stood before the vehicle parked in front of the prison truck, with his uniformed compatriots spread and ready as though the half-naked, sick, injured man being dragged toward them was actually a threat. Beyond the vehicles, most of the village was gathered with many more trickling in, watching with their expressions gradually inching from curious to confused as their town hero was being yanked along like a petty thug.

The enforcer released John, letting him drop to the ground before Tarl's feet. Tarl looked down at John with cold indifference.

" Mr. Sheppard," he said, and smiled crookedly. " Seems I won't be going home empty handed after all. As part of the investigation, I took the liberty of checking the citizenship status of the members of this village, and I was rather alarmed when I was unable to dig up your identification tag. The good people at the census office were in quite a tizzy trying to find your records. But it seems that someone from the government house had found your name to be somewhat familiar. To make a long story short, it was brought to my attention that one John Sheppard was – in fact – registered... As an off-worlder, and one who was classified as 'rejected' for reentry status."

Not much John could say about that. Even if he had words to respond with, his teeth would have been too busy chattering to form them. The cold was violent against his bare skin, ripping into it more than biting, and it was making it hard for him to breathe.

" Needless to say, Mr. Sheppard," Tarl continued, " You are under arrest."

" No!" John heard Maj cry.

Tarl breathed out a long-suffering sigh. " Please cooperate, Mr. Sheppard. This can go smoothly – as in you come with us without making a scene – and your friend Maj will not be brought up on charges for harboring an unregistered off-worlder. Too much of a hassle, anyways, and I'd rather avoid it."

Even through the pain and debilitating cold, Tarl's words still managed to strike John as being odd. For such a stickler of protocol and investigation, he didn't strike John as the type to just let someone walk.

John didn't have the capacity to resist. Even if he did, for Maj's sake, no matter Tarl's double motives, John would still have complied.

John nodded weakly, and tried to rise. His personal guard helped him none too gently. John couldn't quite get his feet under him, no matter how he scrambled, so was dragged toward the back of the prison wagon. Before being tossed in, he looked up at the gathered crowd. He spotted Arvlan, and Dev and Kari. Both children's eyes went round, then Kari's shimmered with tears that flooded down her face. She pulled from her father and was about to run to John when Arvlan pulled her back.

John looked to the eyes of the adults. Shocked, all of them, a few sad, including Arvlan. Then John was shoved into the compartment of the truck that was too small to stand in or even kneel without his back being curved.

" Please!" he heard Maj cry, and a vice tightened around his chest. " Please, let me give him a coat, please! He's sick, it'll get worse if he's cold. Please...!"

Her cries were overcome by the rumble of the vehicle engine. John forced his aching body to move him to the door and the small wire covered window. The small truck lurched and jolted him as it turned. Maj came into John's sights. She had her arms wrapped tight around the struggling Ris, so didn't have a hand free to cover her mouth or wipe away the tears flowing like rain down her face. Gidel slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her smaller form close into his larger. For once, the big man was wearing an expression – melancholy, and he obviously didn't care if anyone saw it.

John continued to watch as Maj and Gidel shrank away, then vanished behind the wall of bodies formed by the villagers turning to watch the vehicles depart. All granules of strength trickled out of John, and he sank to the floor where he curled up tight to conserve the warmth that wasn't there.

His mind whirled dizzily. It was beyond his reasoning that this was happening, and that he'd been found out, his moment of tranquility shattered in less than a heartbeat. He should have known better than to give into relief. Like letting one's guard down, removing one's flak vest just as the bullet was fired. Then again, had he'd known Tarl was doing backgrounds checks, was there anything John could have done, or Maj? Run into the woods and hide like a fugitive, maybe. Hold up in the ruins...

Get real, John. You were screwed the moment you were dragged back to this planet. Probably before then.

John would have pondered the irony of it, and things like karma, Murphy's law, fate, and all that crap, but he was too tired to, and too cold. It was an up and down yo-yo of a battle for him on this world. If he was to die on it, then he would die. Neither would he be all shocked if he didn't. The dice had been rolled, and until they stopped rolling, John wasn't going to figure anything out.

He just wished he hadn't left Maj broken hearted after all.

SGA

A/N: Yeah, another cliffie, sorry. But we are nearing the end, with smidgens more whump. Yummers. Oh, and the teams a'comin, I promise.