Chapter Nine:

Homeward

Sheppard kept busy as soon as he and the other men reached the ruins. With Ronon resting due to his injuries, and the others taking a much needed break after their abrupt awakening by the wolves, he began braiding the vines that he had found alongside the ruins into thick rope-like strands.

"I can help with that, Colonel," Price spoke up.

The Native American sat down and grabbed some vines and began to do the same thing Sheppard was, but better and much quicker.

"Did this before, I take it?"

"Yes," Price smiled, "On the Reservation where I was raised, my family often made decorative ornaments and the like using vines. We liked to keep our use of materials as natural as possible."

"Makes sense to me," John concurred.

A hiss due to pain had both men looking up as Ronon stumbled over and slid down the wall to sit by Sheppard.

"Franks has taken a turn for the worst, Sheppard. I don't think he'll live much longer. Not to mention this rain. If it continues, the river will become impossible to cross. We need to keep moving."

John sighed, but knew his friend was right. Looking down at the vines he and price had braided, he could only hope these would be good enough to get them safely to the other side.

"Alright men," John called, catching everyone's attention. "With this storm, our journey will be treacherous, but we don't have a choice. We have to continue forward."

The others didn't argue, but they seemed exhausted as they stood and began to gather their things in order to leave.

"Ronon, Rook, Beard, you're with me. Stevens, Price, and O'Connor look after Franks. Let's move people."

Taking that first step out of the ruins and into the rain had John shivering almost immediately. He knew he had a slight fever and this weather wasn't going to help him get any better. After the stress of being tortured by Kolya and then the added strain of Carson's death and then unexpectedly picking up the Pegasus version of the flu, his body and mind had been through the ringer. This was just another round he knew he would get through. He just had to keep going.

SGA

The river was just as bad as Sheppard and Ronon assumed it would be. The waters were high, the current rough, and the rain still pouring down made it difficult to see.

"Alright, everyone stands in a line and we will do this slowly and carefully. In case anyone falls, we will all hold onto this rope to assist in bringing that person back into position.

"Stevens, take point. Rook behind him and then O'Connor. Ronon and I will be in the middle with Franks. Beard, and Price, take the rear."

Everyone did as instructed, each taking a potion of the vine before finally, Stevens began to cross. Stevens went slow, his feet carefully feeling out the areas ahead of him as he directed the group upon where they should be stepping. Rook was right behind him, making certain their point man didn't fall, with O'Connor behind him, trying and failing, to assist with Franks who was mostly being carried by Sheppard and Ronon. Luckily the man was unconscious, or this could have been a much worse experience. Beard and Price were right behind Ronon, each watching Ronon and Sheppard in case something went wrong.

The shore was just in sight and John was never more thankful to see it. They were almost to the flat flands and then it would be a simple matter of walking ten miles before getting to the gate. A feat John knew he may have to send someone else ahead to complete sooner. In the meantime, things were finally looking up.

So of course, fate had to intervene. Couldn't let them have it too easy.

O'Connor had been doing a great job of keeping his footing, but he couldn't account for Rook losing his. When Drake felt his feet slide out from under him when a large piece of wood came flying at him from underwater, both men went down, which in turn meant everyone attempted to hold the vine and assist them in getting back up. Unfortunately, none had accounted for the unlikely occurrence that both men would fall into the vine and thus, pull everyone down with them.

John attempted to keep his head above the water as he tried desperately to keep his grip on Franks. He had just heard the shouting around him, when he looked up just in time to see a rock.

'Oh crap', was all he could think when the current tossed him headlong into the stone. John gasped in pain and swallowed a gallon of water for it, as stars circled overhead, his eyesight blurring before he blinked it clear and re-firmed his grip on his precious cargo. He could barely get himself to stay upon the surface, so he couldn't tell if Franks was still underwater or not.

With a harsh cough as he attempted to control how far the river was taking him, he looked up and was relieved to see he hadn't been swept too far, thanks to the Rock that he now was partially clinging to. Ronon was already back on his feet, though he looked pale, with Beard assisting him with getting across to shore. Stevens was helping Price stumble to shore, and Rook, Rook was coming towards John with a very concerned expression painted across his face.

"Colonel?"

"Hmm?" John blinked. He supposed he should say more than that. Hmm, was probably not convincing anyone that he was perfectly fine.

"Colonel, you need to let go."

'Let go?' John wondered, what did he mean let go? He couldn't let go. Franks…

That's when John realized the truth. He didn't have Franks in his arms. He had a large piece of wood. When did… where was Franks? O'Connors too… where was…

"Colonel."

John looked up, blinking more rainwater out of his eyes as Rook now stood in front of him, having waded the rest of the way. Slowly, the Lieutenant assisted his commander with standing before the two, almost drunkenly, stumbled upon shore.

"Where's…"

Rook frowned. "I don't know about O'Connor, but Ronon has Franks," he gestured to the big man.

Sure enough, Ronon was sitting on the shore, his eyes staring out towards John and by his side was Franks laying flat upon the rocks.

"Come on, Colonel. Like you said, we need to keep moving."

John nodded and the two shuffled towards the others. Everyone was breathing hard, but the weather wasn't letting up, which meant they needed to keep moving. With the river water now soaking through their clothes and into any injures people had, illness was looking more and more probable.

"Sheppard," Ronon greeted, his eyes tracking the drops of blood still running down John's face like its own version of the river, only bloodier.

"I'm good," he replied.

Ronon huffed, obviously not believing him, but both knew right now it didn't matter what they felt. They had no choice but to continue.

SGA

Rook wasn't overly surprised that the Colonel ended up needing a hand as they walked. The man was stumbling all over the place like a drunken sailor. It was concerning to see his CO like that, but he knew head wounds were serious. He flashed back to the river. His CO, despite the danger to himself, had been determined to save Franks who he had thought was in his arms.

Sure, the man had been a bit out of it, carrying a piece of wood like a body, but… Drake couldn't help but admit, he had been impressed.

"This will take too long," Ronon growled, "let me go ahead."

"Your hurt, Chewie, request denied," John sighed before blinking at though clearing his vision. Drake assumed he probably was. More than likely the Colonel had a concussion. "Stevens, Beard. You two go ahead but stick together. Contact Atlantis with the codes you were given."

The two nodded and took off, leaving Price and Rook to protect and assist their two leads. Both of whom were looking a little worse for wear, though not nearly as bad as Franks who Price was half dragging, half carrying.

"Almost there Sheppard," Ronon encouraged when the colonel stumbled for the hundredth time. Rook made sure to stay closer to the Colonels side just in case he fell.

They had been walking for a good twenty minutes when the radio clicked on. The sound was staticky, but Drake was never so happy to hear the words 'Coming to you'. Sure enough within a minute, the sight of a jumper appeared before them, sent directly by Atlantis to pick them up.

Nurses rushed out of the flying apparatus as Jennifer Keller followed behind, eyes taking in the damage before barking orders. As Franks was quickly hauled inside the ship, another jumper sped by overhead towards the river.

"They are going to see if they can't find O'Connor," Jennifer explained when she saw Sheppard's look. "How are you doing, Colonel?"

He huffed. "I'll live."

She smiled. "Yeah, you will."

EPILOGUE

Rodney McKay had mixed emotions when he heard about what happened to Sheppard and his team of Rookies upon the planet. Half of him was very happy he wasn't there, while the other half though maybe he could have saved the team some trouble had he gone. Not that he can control weather, mind you, but still… he knew how hard John took death and lately, there was too much.

Sheppard was sitting in the infirmary when Rodney walked in, his head stitched and bandaged, but the real giveaway was the slight rosy color upon his cheeks. Once again, John Sheppard had come down with the flu.

"What?" he snapped, glaring at McKay who shuffled a bit when he realized he had just been staring.

"Nothing, I just… how are you?"

Sheppard's gaze softened. "I'm good. Better than Johnson, Wesley, O'Connor, and Franks at least. Probably even better than Ronon."

Rodney smiled weakly at the joke, but both grew silent and a bit uncertain of what to say to try and release the tension.

"I should have been there," Rodney began.

"No."

McKay looked up at the sharp tone. John met his gaze firmly.

"No, I'm glad you weren't. There wasn't anything you could have done differently, McKay. It just… it happened."

"You too," Rodney hurried to reassure, "If I couldn't do anything, neither could you."

"Yeah," John scoffed, "maybe."

The two again sat in silence.

"So, for those that did, uh, make it… what do you think?"

John hummed.

"I'm going to give Stevens a team. He's a good Captain and he kept his head the entire time we were on the planet. I haven't spoken to any of them yet, but I think Rook, Price, and Beard would make excellent teammates for him. The four seemed to get along well and they did a great job contributing. O'Connor's is a marine naval engineer. He'll be helping run the warehouse and work the floor when our 302s arrive. I think he was grateful he wasn't required to join a gate team."

"And Franks?" Rodney questioned, sitting down on the edge of his friends' bed.

"Keller says he'll make a full recovery," John frowned. "Why is it good men died and someone like him survived?"

Rodney shrugged. "That's life."

"It sucks."

"Sometimes," McKay agreed.

"I'm not keeping him here."

At McKay's questioning look, John explained. "Franks. I'm not keeping him here. He nearly got everyone killed, not just Wesley. I don't want someone like that in this city."

"I don't blame you."

"He's being shipped out next time the Daedalus comes by."

Rodney nodded, silent.

"Thanks Rodney."

McKay smiled, his eyes meeting Johns.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Course not," Sheppard groaned as he laid back and closed his eyes. "People wouldn't believe me if I told them Rodney McKay wanted to have been there."

"Nope, not a single person would," Rodney confirmed, "but I did. I do. I… next time you and Ronon go running. I'll go to."

John smiled but didn't open his eyes.

"Looking forward to it."