This universe's Todd has not yet been named as such. He will be eventually.

Chapter 2

John wakes and feels more alive than ever. Which is weird considering that he's just been shot dead by an alien... On second thought, maybe that was all a dream after all.

On third thought, that alien is standing above his prone body, grinning and showing sharp teeth. John jumps, falling off a stretcher in the process. He wonders why there is a stretcher here, why there are people, why there is a strange, crash-landed spaceship and why needles rip from his arm as he struggles back to his feet. Only when he is standing again and feeling like he can somewhat defend himself does his brain take the time to put all the pieces together.

This is not the Wraith who shot him but the Wraith from Area 51, just as the people are from Area 51. But those facts don't lessen his confusion in the slightest. Mainly because the people seem as confused and shocked as he is, in fact the Wraith seems to be the only pers- the only one around who seems to be perfectly comfortable and knows what just happened.

"But I just died!" John protests against reality, sounding dumb even to himself.

"But he just died!?" McKay parrots him, apparently feeling a few IQ points shorter as well for the moment.

John stares at him, then they both turn towards the Wraith as one, demanding an explanation with their incredulous faces because they can't seem to get any more words out of their mouth. To John's, and apparently McKay's as well, annoyance the Wraith only grins.

"There is much about Wraith that you do not know, Sheppard," is the only thing the creature says, nodding to itself like it just fulfilled a task and is satisfied with the outcome.

For a moment longer everyone just stands and stares, then McKay starts snapping orders. "Detective Sheppard, get back on that stretcher, we will have you checked by the doctor!"

"I'm fine!" Sheppard protests, thought he doesn't sound as convincing as he wants to, mainly because he was just patting himself down to check if the bullet holes are really gone.

"Which is exactly why we'll have you checked!" McKay answers like that is an obvious reason. It probably is, John doesn't know what exactly just happened and if whatever the alien did to him comes at a cost.

"The rest of you, contain the Wraith!" the Canadian then yells at the soldiers milling about, waving his arms around to underline his order.

John grouchily sits back on the stretcher. He ignores the medics fussing about him and instead watches the somewhat scared marines approach the Wraith. Only now does he notice that the gray jump suit it wears has quite a lot of bullet holes and patches of what must be blood darker than a human's, yet the Wraith stands tall, not bothered by any possibly wounds. The marines' fear suddenly seems a lot more reasonable. John remembers shooting at the other Wraith, it too didn't seem bothered by the bullets. He resolves that he will get McKay to tell him a little more about the Wraith than the snippets he was given back then, even if McKay and his SGC people don't seem to know everything either from the looks of it.

For now he watches as the marines handcuff the Wraith who doesn't look impressed in the lightest. But it simply follows any instruction given, though more out of its own agenda than anything else, it seems. There is a shred of cunning in those strange, yellow eyes and John has a feeling that this alien's intelligence is much more dangerous than all its physical traits. There is a bigger picture here and John hates not getting it. Not to mention he has this strange feeling that he will be involved in whatever the Wraith is up to.

As if feeling his gaze the Wraith turns to look at him. John swallows but keeps the eye contact up. He can't read the other but he decides he will give the Wraith the benefit of the doubt. After all, it did safe his life.

Once back in Area 51, or much more precisely the underground SGC complex, John quickly decides against the benefit of the doubt. There are five corpses, sucked dry of any life in every sense of the word. He feels nauseated, reasoning that this is where the Wraith stole the power to resurrect him. One of this men is dead so his life could be given to John. He turns to the Wraith that has been strapped to a table, the female, blonde doctor John has met before poking at a gross and slightly bloody slit in its hand. The Wraith doesn't seem too happy about that but can't pull away much with tight metal fastenings holding its hand down and open.

"I want you to give it back!" John snarls.

The alien just looks at him. For a moment John thinks it doesn't understand what he is talking about at all, but then he realizes that's not completely the case. Annoyed, he clarifies his demand anyway.

"I want you to give the life you gave me back to whatever poor guy you stole it from and, while you're at it, best revive the rest of them as well!" he yells.

"Detective please calm down, we still don't know if you are truly all right..." the doctor tries to calm him.

"He is" the Wraith says matter-of-factly.

They stare at it and John's anger bubbles up once more. "Yes, because you did something utterly wrong! Who are you to decide who should live and who should die?! You probably cost some family a loving father and husband just to revive me who no one would have missed at all!" He stands there, panting from his outburst, and stares down the greenish bastard tied to the table, vaguely aware of the blonde doctor's uncomfortable shuffling.

"I am me. And I would have missed you, Sheppard."

His thoughts seem to do a back flip and looping at once. Or maybe it's a corkscrew motion. Anyway, John needs a moment to calm his mind, sent reeling from the aliens words. Only then does he understand that what the Wraith said hasn't been meant in any amicable or romantic way. The thing had told him it knew his future, so what it would have missed is not him right now but whatever could be if John stays around. In an absolute harebrained way that makes a surprising amount of sense. He snorts derisively.

"Well I don't care! Give those people back their lives!" he slams one hand down on the table and points the other at the bodies.

The Wraith sighs, suddenly seeming a lot more weary than just a second ago. "I cannot do that. They have been dead for too long, what would be brought back now are soulless, mindless hunks of flesh."

John's anger deflates as rapidly as it had come up. With his arms crossed in front of his chest he paces the room, peering at the bodies from time to time as he tries to deal with it. At last, he looks at the doctor, whose name he finally remembers is Keller. "Can I go now?"

She looks uncertain. "I would rather keep you under supervision... I'm sorry but you will have to stay," she then decides.

"Great, can I at least get away from it?" he points at the Wraith.

"I am male by all definitions," it clarifies. It doesn't seem angry though, more like resigned to the stupidity of mankind.

"Fine, can I get away from him then?!" John snaps. He dimly remembers that McKay had also called it a he. He dismisses the thought, he's not willing to think much more today. Tomorrow maybe, but now he needs a break.

"Yes, just a moment and someone will come to bring you to our regular infirmary," Doctor Keller nods.

So John keeps pacing the room while marines stand by and Doctor Keller keeps poking the hand of the Wraith, who hisses at her but answers none of her questions. Finally, McKay shows up.

For the first few corridors the man is mercyfully silent, then he starts talking and John has to suppress the urge to just run away.

"You don't happen to have a clue why the Wraith broke out just to revive you and then didn't so much as resist when we caught him again?" McKay asks, sounding like he was hoping for an easy explanation for all this headache inducing mess.

"No." John indulges him from between clenched teeth. "Only met him once before and you where there so you know what I know."

"Which is nothing," McKay sighs.

Another corridor full of blessed silence, then ,oddly enough, John feels the need to break it. "Did he ever before say something about the future?"

McKay looks at him out of his peripheral vision, skeptical and with raised eyebrows. "He's said the oddest things once he was too starved to resist our... interrogation. Only useful thing we ever got from it is that he seems to be an especially talented individual when it comes to their mental abilities. They all reach a point where they try to get under your skin but he... he always knew much more than the other Wraith. And when he broke, he broke differently. While all other Wraith starved to death quietly he started to sprout nonsense. It's why we kept him instead of just shooting him, we hoped some day he might spill something good after all."

"Well, cost you five men," John says darkly.

McKay's mouth turns into a thin line but his step doesn't falter. "I have a feeling that in some twisted way it will be worth it."

John only scowls. McKay doesn't say anything else and so they reach the infirmary in silence after all. The Canadian says his good byes with a curt nod only and John rolls his eyes as a nurse assigns him a bed. He is given a meal and suddenly realizes just how hungry he feels. His stomach growls and he has to stop himself from ravenously inhaling his food, eating in a civilized manner has never been so hard. When he's done they draw blood from him, do some other simple tests and finally hook him up to a heart monitor and other stuff to keep an eye on him. He patiently endures it because the nurse is nice and rather pretty and it distracts him from all further thoughts about the mummified corpses in the morgue.

At last he is allowed to rest and the moment his head hits the pillow he sleeps like a rock. Whatever will happen tomorrow, he'll probably need all the energy he could get.