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He didn't sleep again until the small hours of the morning, and then it was restless. When Sheppard finally rolled over and sat up, he felt like he'd been hit by…a Wraith. Was it real? Or, was that whole thing a long, demented nightmare? He closed his eyes, not wanting to look at his chest, but his right hand reached up, fingertips carefully touching his chest. Not a nightmare, well, not just a nightmare.

He looked down. There was plenty of light coming through the windows. The sun was barely over the horizon, but the clean ocean air and cloudless sky did not hinder its glow. The marks were right where they had been last night, and the area was still tender from the harsh treatment it had received.

"Crap." The Colonel said heavily. He stood up and walked into the bathroom.

His whole body vaguely ached. The Wraith might have given him…wait a minute. Sheppard stood in front the mirror and searched the image staring back at him. It was the same face that was there every day. Maybe today the strain and lack of sleep showed, but otherwise he could see no difference. Except in the eyes. There was a difference in the eyes. He quickly pealed off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water blasted out hot and fast but it could not erase the events of the previous day.

The whole day now had a surreal quality. The swirling, confusing emotions surfaced only after the examination in the infirmary when he had time to stop and think. He had been able to clamp down on them tightly enough to get through the 'discussion' afterwards and keep it there until now. He fought to remain calm and breathe normally. He wondered how long he could keep the lid on.

"Stop it, John." Sheppard hit the wall with the side of his fist, barely registering the pain caused by the impact. "You're alive and no worse for wear. Well, apart from getting fed on by a…damn it. Don't go all Rodney on me."

He turned off the shower forced himself to go through the normal motions until he got to shaving. As much as he needed it, the sight of a quivering mound of shaving cream on shaking fingers made him think better of that particular chore. It would be really stupid to survive yesterday only to cut his own throat. He washed the white foam down the sink.

Sheppard began to dress. Tight lipped, he opened three drawers before going back to the first and pulling out a standard issue black T-shirt. He quickly checked the mirror to see if it completely covered the marks left by the Wraith. After looping the comm earpiece on, he turned to the door, stopped and closed his eyes for several seconds. Screw the lid on tight. Take two deep breaths. The door opened and Col. Sheppard walked out into the corridor with the appearance that it was any other day.

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"Sheppard." Ronon's deep voice rumbled at him.

"Hey, what's up?" Sheppard replied as he forced a mildly surprised expression on his face. The hope of a few minutes of just nodding at passers-by before having to actually interact with anyone disappeared. "Been here long? You should have knocked."

Ronon's eyes narrowed, but his passive expression didn't otherwise change. They began to walk down the corridor. He lied. "Just got here. Wanted to see if you were going for a run."

"Sorry, Beckett wants me to take it easy for a few days. Anyway, I have to go see him in a little while. I was just going to get something to eat."

"Okay. Mind if I join you?" Ronon walked lazily beside him.

"No, not at all." Sheppard glanced at him. Ronon turning up at his doorstep for an early morning run was not unheard of, but he was suspicious about today's appearance. They normally made arrangements the day before.

Once they arrived at the mess, Sheppard regretted the decision to try to eat. He wasn't actually hungry, but realized it had been almost twenty-four hours since his last meal. Now, he didn't even want coffee. Ronon walked towards the counter. He reluctantly followed and picked out an apple and a bottle of water. Ronon eyed him but said nothing.

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"You rang?" Sheppard said as he walked into Beckett's office.

Beckett looked up from the datapad he was reading. The shock of seeing Sheppard young still struck him. He smiled a little too broadly. "Col. Sheppard, how are you doing this morning?"

"Bit of a headache, but I'm good." Sheppard seemed distracted. His eyes roamed restlessly around the room.

Beckett studied his face for a long moment. The face was young, but the strain of the torture Sheppard endured and a certain weariness was evident today. "And, I'm my Aunt Gertrude."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Did you get any sleep?" Beckett picked up a data pad and turned it on.

"Yeah." Sheppard looked around. "You said you wanted to see me this morning."

"Yes, yes, of course. I just want to draw more blood and give you a quick look over." Beckett pointed to an exam table. "Just hop up there, please. It won't take long."

Sheppard did as he was told, wanting to get the exam over with and get out of there. Beckett decided to draw the blood first. Sheppard sat quietly as the Doctor expertly and swiftly drew three small vials. Beckett withdrew the needle, swabbed the puncture mark with alcohol and taped a small cotton ball over it. Beckett strapped the cuff of the sphygmomanometer on his arm and began to pump up the pressure.

"Have you had something to eat yet today?"

"Yeah, I just came from the mess." Sheppard was noncommittal.

"Good. Now, just relax for a moment." The Doctor put the stethoscope earpieces in his ears and slowly released the pressure on the cuff. Without a word, he slipped the cuff off Sheppard's arm and picked up the data pad to enter the figures. He stared at the pad for several seconds.

"Finished?" Sheppard's voice startled Beckett.

"Not quite. I want to listen to your heart and lungs, and examine the wound."

He put the pad down and the stethoscope on again. Sheppard silently pulled his shirt off as the Doctor warmed the diaphragm on the palm of his hand. Beckett noted the lack of response he would have normally expected. He also sensed an uncharacteristic tension in the Colonel's whole being. He quickly listened to the Sheppard's lungs and heart, then pulled the earpieces out and slung the stethoscope around his neck.

Sheppard licked his lips and looked away as Beckett examined the feeding marks on his chest. He saw the Colonel's breathing quicken for a couple of breaths then slow again. Sheppard was fighting to seem his normal self. The Doctor straightened and gave his patient his best bedside smile.

"You can put your shirt back on. Thank you." Beckett picked up the data pad again and quickly jotted down a few notes, watching Sheppard out of the corner of his eye. He smiled again. "We don't have all the test results from yesterday back yet, but, so far, everything looks okay."

Sheppard slid off the exam table. "Thanks, Doc. Anything else?"

Beckett frowned and shook his head. "No, not for now. I won't have the remaining test results until later. Come back this afternoon, say about four. And, remember I want you to take it easy until further notice. Okay?"

"Sure." The Colonel nodded and began to walk away. To Beckett's surprise, he stopped and came back.

"What is it, John?" Beckett prompted when Sheppard hesitated, eyes downcast.

Sheppard looked up at the Doctor. He was trying to hide something, but could not quite manage it. "Nothing. Thanks."

Before Beckett could say anything, he turned and left.

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Beckett stood behind one of the chairs in Elizabeth's office, a datapad under one arm. She sat behind her desk, but McKay paced around the room with his own datapad nestled in his arms. He looked up from it only often enough to stop himself from walking into Beckett or the furniture.

"I am just saying that I am a little concerned." The Doctor turned to watch McKay.

At that moment, Ronon and Teyla appeared in the doorway.

"Excuse me." Teyla looked at Beckett and McKay then at Elizabeth. "I, we, did not realize you were busy."

"What is it, Teyla?" Elizabeth asked. "Come in."

She glanced up at Ronon as they entered. "We were looking for Col. Sheppard. Have you seen him?"

Beckett turned. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Ronon answered quickly.

"We just want to make sure he is…alright." Teyla smiled evasively. "It was a difficult day for him yesterday."

Elizabeth sighed. "We were just talking about him."

"Is something wrong?" Teyla looked at Beckett.

"I don't have all the test results, but there is nothing to indicate any long term effects so far. It's just that he seemed…pre-occupied." Beckett rushed on. "Not that it would be unexpected. I am just a little worried, that's all."

Elizabeth turned to the young Athosian. "Teyla, has something happened to make you ask?"

"Nothing in particular. We were just concerned as well." She glanced up at Ronon and nodded.

"Sheppard wasn't himself this morning. I went to the mess hall with him for breakfast, but he didn't eat anything. He just said he wasn't hungry." Ronon was obviously uncomfortable talking about his friend.

"Great." McKay began to pace again. Glancing at the datapad every few seconds.

"What?" Beckett asked.

"You heard him last night. He was acting weird." McKay glanced up from the datapad.

Beckett glared at him. "If you had just spent the day being fed on by a Wraith, I doubt you'd be acting as if everything was normal."

"But, the Wraith reversed the effects." McKay dropped into a chair, still watching the datapad.

"Excuse me." Beckett tapped his transceiver. "Beckett here…Right, thanks."

He tapped the transceiver again and studied the datapad he carried in. It displayed Sheppard's case file.

"What is it?" Elizabeth leaned forward.

"Well, we all know the Wraith inject an enzyme into humans while they feed." Beckett took a deep breath before he continued. This was painful for all of them. "We also know the Wraith fed on Col. Sheppard a fourth time, bringing him very close to death. Understandably, he had a significant amount of the enzyme in his system."

"Oh, great! Are saying that Sheppard's addicted to the enzyme now? Is he going to do a Ford?" McKay interrupted.

"No, Rodney. Let me finish." Beckett shook his head in annoyance. "I drew more blood earlier this morning. The enzyme level is lower, not as much as I would like, but there is something else."

"What?" Ronon stared at the Doctor.

"There is another substance in his system that wasn't there the last time we did a full workup. It's something I've never seen before." Beckett looked around at everyone then back down at his datapad. 'I believe it was injected when the Wraith fed him."

Beckett emphasized the last three words, drilling it into his audience. He let them digest what he said for a moment as he read the information again.

McKay spoke first. "Do you know what it is?"

Beckett bit his lip before responding. "We're still running tests, but it looks like it's a complex protein."

"So, you don't know whether it's harmful or not." McKay said flatly. He still watched his datapad with great interest. Occasionally, he tapped the controls.

"No, Rodney, I don't." Beckett replied.

Elizabeth frowned. "I thought the Wraith said he was giving John back his life in repayment of his getting him out of the prison."

"He is Wraith. Anything is possible." Teyla said simply.

"Yeah." Ronon agreed.

Beckett shook his head. "I doubt the Wraith even knew there might be a problem. It's unlikely they often feed on a human only to turn around and give them back the life they took. This may be a first."

McKay glanced up. "Well, when will you know?"

Elizabeth frowned became suspicious. "Rodney, what are you doing?"

McKay hunched over the pad as if he was trying to protect it. "Uh, nothing. Just working on…"

"Rodney?" Her voice was menacing.

"I've been tracking Sheppard using his sub-Q transmitter." He turned the datapad for them to see. "For his…own…good."

"Stop it. Turn it off." Elizabeth demanded.

"Wait." Beckett compressed his lips, unwilling to ask but needing to know. "Where has he been?"

"Ah-ha! See, you're worried, too!" McKay felt vindicated. He looked at the datapad again. "After he left the infirmary, he went to his quarters for a few minutes. Then, he was with Dr. Heightmeyer for an hour. After that, he went back to his quarters. Now it looks like he's running out on the east pier."

Beckett shook his head in exasperation. "That's it! I want him in the infirmary. I told him last night, and this morning, that I would release him only if he took it easy for a few days."

Elizabeth tapped her comm. "Col. Sheppard, this is Weir."

They waited a minute, but there was no answer. She looked at Ronon. "Would you mind?"

Ronon nodded and looked at McKay. "Where, exactly?"

The astrophysicist studied the screen. "He's right out at the end, but on his way back, on the north side."

"I will go with Ronon." Teyla began to follow him out.

McKay moved to get up. "Me, too."

Teyla paused. "No, Rodney. You should stay here and guide us if necessary. John is a fast runner and it will take us some time to get to him."

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Sheppard normally enjoyed running. It allowed him to empty his mind and process things. The endorphins generated by the exercise didn't hurt either. Today, Sheppard didn't run for the high induced by endorphins, not consciously anyway. He was running to try to clear his mind. It was hard to think. Stuff kept crowding in, spilling into his consciousness. And, his head hurt. He just wanted to leave everything and everyone behind for a little while. The few short hours of human contact this morning was too much in his frame of mind.

He stopped dead. Human contact. Heightmeyer would love that little phrase, the reaction to it, and the fact that it caused a reaction at all. Sheppard chuckled without humor. He started to walk to the edge of the pier.

He mentally ran through the meeting with Kate. It was more than slightly stilted, which she smoothly said was to be expected. They shined over the surface, with him just talking about the facts of the day. She was warm and encouraging and supportive, but, thankfully, didn't probe beyond what he was willing to give. Even though he would have to see her again, she was beginning to understand how deep he would go, but also seemed to accept that it was deep enough.

The sweat sticking his t-shirt to his torso cooled in the light breeze, making him shiver.

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He shivered in the icy cold cockpit of his helicopter, waiting for Mitch and Dex to touch down. They were going to pick up a couple of wounded Marines. Sheppard was about two hundred yard out, his crew searching the area for signs of the insurgents' positions. He would pick up a second load after the others lifted off.

"Come on, guys. We're freezing our asses off here." Sheppard swore under his breath. Hanging around in mid-winter at six thousand feet with small arms fire pinging off the fuselage was not fun. To top it off a gusting wind made it difficult to keep his chopper under control. "Mitch, did you forget how to park that thing? Get the lead…"

He barely saw the RPG's flash and the snake of thin smoke before the helicopter below him exploded.

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The sound of pounding footsteps approaching didn't even register.

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"Colonel, I told you to take it easy." Beckett put on his sternest expression. He glared at Sheppard. "I let you out of here on the provision you would not do anything strenuous. We still don't know what the effects…"

"I'm fine. I just thought the fresh air would do me some good." Sheppard exhaled heavily as he settled himself on the exam table again. "I don't consider going for a quick run strenuous."

"Well, it is. And that was not a quick run." Beckett studied him closely, concern replacing the anger he felt. "Still have a headache?"

Sheppard lied. "It's not bad."

"Right. Anything else?" Beckett spoke softly as he flicked the penlight across his patient's eyes. Sheppard flinched with each pass of the light.

"Just a little tired. It was kind of a busy day yesterday." His attempt at an off-handed delivery was not quite right.

He sat quietly as the Doctor completed the basic vitals. Finally, Beckett laid his stethoscope on a nearby tray and picked up the datapad to enter the readings. He frequently glanced at his patient. Sheppard had abruptly become distracted to the point of not reacting to his surroundings. Beckett had the distinct impression there was more than a headache going on. He put his hand on Sheppard's arm.

Sheppard's eyes slowly focused on him. There was something in them Beckett could not quite identify. There was confusion, pain, and something else.

"Can I go now?"

"No, you are going to be a guest here for a day or two." The Doctor folded his arms over his chest to reinforce his order. After a moment, he softened. "John, we've found something in your blood tests."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

"I believe the Wraith injected a substance into your system when he…gave…you back your life. Something that enables the process. It looks like it's a protein and the feeding enzyme is metabolizing it. He probably didn't realize…"

"Yeah."

"Well, until we know more about the effects, I want to keep you for observation." Beckett nodded towards a doorway. "There's a set of scrubs on the bed in there for you."

----------

Elizabeth walked into Beckett's small office and sat in the single guest chair. "Anything?"

The Doctor stifled a yawn. It was late. He shook his head. "No, not yet. We've isolated more of the protein, but we know little about it so far. This could take a while."

"What about John? How is he doing?" She glanced through the door even though he was not visible from where she sat.

"I think this is making it hard for him to concentrate and the disorientation is scaring him. I also believe he has a migraine." Beckett paused.

"What's causing it?" Elizabeth prompted him.

"The enzyme's action on the protein is producing a substance that seems to be affecting John's brain chemistry."

"How? In what way?"

"We're trying to determine how, but the electrical activity in his brain has changed somewhat." Beckett tapped the data pad and read the screen.

Elizabeth was growing more alarmed. "What does it mean?"

"We know so little about the brain and how it functions. As I mentioned, John is having difficulty concentrating. He seems to lose track of what was going on around him. He isn't losing consciousness or having seizures as far as I can tell." He exhaled heavily and tried to find the right words. "I have him hooked up to an EEG. We may be able to learn more about what's happening."

"Did going for a run this morning make any difference?" Elizabeth knew she was grasping straws, but asked anyway.

Beckett shook his head. "I don't think so. The action of the enzyme on the protein would probably happen at the same rate no matter what."

"Is there anything we can do?" She was trying to stay calm. They had lost John Sheppard and gotten him back. Was it only to lose him to an accident resulting from a gift of life from the same Wraith that almost killed him?

"We're continuing to run tests, but to be honest, I don't think so." He looked at the pad. "Tests indicate that there would be an adverse reaction to the Earth based drugs we've tried so far. There is still more free protein and enzyme in his system, too. And, I don't know how long it will take to work out of his body."

Elizabeth bit her lip and thought for a long moment. "Can I see him?"

"For a few minutes. I want him to get some rest, but the distraction might do him good."

----------

"McMurdo in winter isn't such a bad place. Well, at least not once you've gotten used to the cold, and the wind, and the lack of sunlight or anything green, and the food, and the fact that there is absolutely no surfing." Sheppard glanced at the young lieutenant sitting off to one side of the round the table then raised an eyebrow at the man on his right. "Are you going to bet, Barrows, or just sit there all day?"

Barrows smirked as he looked over at the pair of sevens, ace and jack showing in front of Sheppard. He was a thin, weedy man, with thin, stringy hair even though only in his early thirties. He checked his three face-down cards, considered his own face-up ten and four of clubs and six and three of hearts. He tossed two red poker chips onto the pile at the center of the table. He looked at the three other men at the table. "See your ten and raise you ten."

"When are you going to learn, Barrows?" A man in his fifties sitting on the opposite side of the table asked dryly. He looked at Sheppard. "Does that mean you haven't fallen in love with our little frozen paradise, Major?"

"Yes, I have, Dr. Hobbs. What would make you think I haven't?" He gave the older man a mock frown then nodded towards the young man. "I just want Lt. Wilkins to understand what he's volunteered for."

"He's bluffing." Barrows frowned at his cards then Sheppard. Hoping for support, he looked around the table again. Hobbs said nothing, and the other two men avoided his gaze.

"Of course I am." Sheppard's expression was serious as he matched Barrows' raise. He looked over at Barrows' cards, picked up a blue chip and tossed it onto the pile. "And, I raise you twenty-five."

Hobbs folded and leaned back in his chair. The man on his left also threw his cards in.

They watched Barrows expectantly. He was now unsure of his position. He tried to act nonchalantly as he checked his face down cards again then glanced at Sheppard. The Major briefly cocked his head to one side and grinned.

Barrows stared at his cards until Hobbs cleared his throat. He groaned and flipped his cards down. "Fold."

"Thank you!" Sheppard turned his own cards face down and raked in the pot.

"Well, kids, it's been fun. I have to go do some work now." Hobbs stood up. "John?"

"Right." Sheppard stood up. As he walked away, he pointed to the pile of chips in front of his chair. "Two-sixty-five, Gentlemen."

"Sir." Wilkins stood, too.

"Wait! You can't leave yet! Give me a chance to…Look, I told you! He was bluffing!" Barrows' rising voice followed them as Sheppard and Hobbs walked down the corridor.

"What did you have?" Hobbs was suspicious.

"Two pair, sevens and jacks."

Hobbs prompted the Major. "And, what did he have?"

"Ace high flush. Clubs."

"Counting cards is not playing nice, John." Hobbs looked sideways at him, not even trying to suppress a chuckle.

"I don't do it on purpose."

"And, you really shouldn't show him up like that, either." The scientist exhaled loudly. "I know Barrows is an insufferable ass, but he is also my best physicist."

"Aw, I just like messing with his head." Sheppard said without any hostility.

Hobbs glanced sideways at him. "John."

Sheppard grinned. "Don't worry, I'll take it easy on him."

"Thank you. I am most grateful."

"You're welcome. Now, you need to go somewhere?"

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