A Hero's Code of Honor

"Get out of here!" Sheppard shouted to us from the ground. The air was thick with bullets, and one had knocked him sprawling. I couldn't see where he'd been hit––he was already struggling upright––but I didn't like the look in his eyes.

The four of us were retreating before a Genii ambush. Sheppard's cry of pain as he went down had brought us up short, but as Teyla, McKay, and I turned around to help him, he waved us off. "It's not bad," he ground out. "Go, I'll cover you!"

He seems to keep forgetting that I was a soldier, too, before I was a runner. I know what "it's not bad" means.

What Sheppard had just said was, I'm done for––save yourselves.

Of course, Sheppard never ceases to amaze me. Even as we ran––there was really no choice but to leave him behind, though I doubt Teyla and McKay had any idea that Sheppard was dying––he had already gotten to his feet, firing his P90 into the surrounding woods. He turned back the way we had come, facing down the approaching Genii. Three, four, five men went down under Sheppard's barrage. Then he turned and charged after us, occasionally stopping to take down more of the enemy––the same thing he'd been doing before he'd been shot.

This is why I have so much respect for the man. The pain must have been intense, he was probably starting to feel weak from blood loss––now that he was facing us, I could see that the entire front of his uniform was soaked––and yet he was still putting everything he had into making sure the rest of us got back to the 'Gate safely. He's a good man, a good soldier, and a good friend. I have never been prouder to have known someone as I was at that moment.

Sheppard tripped, stumbled, went down. This time, he didn't get up.

I stopped. As long as he was on his feet, it meant there was at least a shred of hope that he'd make it back to Atlantis with us. That made it easy to just run. But he was helpless now. Whatever his orders, I couldn't leave him to die alone. I backtracked to where he lay, taking out any Genii that so much as twitched. Then I grabbed Sheppard, hoisted him up over one shoulder, and ran for the 'Gate.

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Only hours after he got out of surgery, Sheppard was already itching to get out of the infirmary. It was a relief to see him alive, though––I'd honestly thought he'd had it. I told him as much.

"So did I," he said gravely. "Hey, thanks for comin' back for me, big guy. You didn't have to, you know. You could've been killed."

Strange guy, Sheppard. He sacrifices so much for everyone else, but doesn't expect anyone to do anything for him. It's almost as if he doesn't expect anyone else to care about him. I have to wonder what, or who, made him that way. "Yeah, I did," I said. "We don't leave our people behind. You taught me that, Sheppard. You'd have done the same."

Doctor Beckett spoke up from behind me. "Aye. What goes around comes around, son."

Sheppard closed his eyes. "I never put much stock in clichés," he murmured. "That one in particular." Then he drifted off to sleep.

I stood and stared at him for a while, wondering what kind of man it took to do so much for others without expecting it to come back.

Certainly a better one than I.