A/N: The usual disclaimer. See first chapter.

A/N: Just to let you know, I picture Terry O'Quinn as John's father. Not as he appears in Lost. More as he appeared in JAG.

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Deja Vu

Dr. Elizabeth Weir sat in the mess hall, almost deserted between in this between meals time, stirring a cup of coffee and staring off into space. It had happened again. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard had ended up in the infirmary fighting for his life, and she, she was once again left waiting and hoping. She closed her eyes, resting her head on her hand, letting out a shuddering breath. She knew this was part of the situation on Atlantis. She accepted it as part of the job. She knew she would have to send teams out into situations that could end up in their injury or death. But why was it always him?

Edward Sheppard studied the expedition leader from the entrance to the seating area. Once again, he wondered at the relationship between this woman and his son. Hearing someone coming up behind him, he quickly moved into the room, coughing as he approached Dr. Weir.

Elizabeth looked up quickly, rearranging her features, to find Edward Sheppard approaching the table she had staked out, with Teyla and Ronon close behind him.

"Are we the first back?" asked Teyla, sitting on one side of Elizabeth with Ronon across from her.

"Yes, I just came straight here since I didn't have to clean up. Get yourselves something to eat."

Ronon headed off immediately to the chow line, but Teyla hesitated. "May I get you something?"

"No, I'm fine."

Teyla leaned down and spoke softly. "Elizabeth, let me get you something. I do not want to see you suffering needlessly again."

Elizabeth grimaced and smiled sheepishly up at Teyla. "You're right, Teyla. Just bring me a muffin or a piece of fruit."

The Athosian left and Elizabeth looked up to see Edward Sheppard still standing next to her, hands in his pockets, looking somewhat unsure of himself.

"Please sit down," she said, scooting over a little to give him more room. "Did you want something to eat?"

John's father sat down with his hands in his lap, shaking his head. "I never could eat right after a mission. I'll be hungry in a few hours."

Elizabeth nodded, knowing too well how stress could reduce an appetite.

Teyla and Ronon returned with Rodney right behind them. All had trays, with Ronon's piled with several meals-worth and Rodney's a close second. Teyla had a sandwich with some fruit and muffin that she handed to Elizabeth. Elizabeth smiled as she took the food, but just put it down next to her untouched coffee.

"So, why don't you tell me what happened? You said the wraith showed up?"

"Yeah," said Rodney, around a mouthful of some kind of casserole. "Since they didn't have the chair, the wraith have evidently put them back on their speed dial."

"The villagers told us they had been culled twice in the last four months. The Lord Protector had been unable to use the chair to defend them," said Teyla. "They showed up again while we were there."

"But I got the chair going and we kicked their butt. They had even sent a hive, but it's gone now."

"Then how did John get shot?"

Edward stepped in, realizing the story was getting told piecemeal, and put together a pretty coherent account of the visit with the people of the Tower.

"So the shot was an accident?"

"Yeah, but Sheppard has got to watch out how he leaves his women. They tried to ambush us on the way to the jumper."

Edward looked up at that. "This gene is that important to them?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Yes, it is the only thing that allows a person to use the ancient technology. The technology is scattered over this galaxy, and everyone wants to use it, especially since the wraith began attacking."

Teyla continued with what she, Ronon, and Dr. Beckett had accomplished in the village then Edward recounted the attack on the way back to the gate.

"… and John ran at the wraith attacking me, blocking him with his right shoulder and shoving him away. I wouldn't be here if he had not been able to do that," finished Edward, his eyes on the table where he was making circles with a water glass.

"That must have happened just before we got there. I think you dealt with the wraith quite well, said Teyla.

"You blew his head off," said Ronon, startling Elizabeth. "What did you shoot it with? I've never seen an Earth weapon do that."

Edward looked a little uncomfortable and rubbed his neck in a manner reminiscent of John. "Well, I was using hollow-point bullets. Technically, the military doesn't use them. In fact, they are banned from warfare on Earth. I looked at your ordnance, and it's armor piercing ammunition. Now that I've seen a wraith, I understand the choice. Hollow-points are for making sure something is dead. On Earth, they are often used in hunting. The bullet expands upon impact, leaving an exit wound several times bigger than the entry wound. I thought that hollow-points would make more sense in a handgun, which is usually good at short range only, with the armor piercing in the P-90. Guess I got lucky."

Ronon grunted, making a note to check out the availability of such ammunition. The sight of the exploding wraith head was immensely satisfying.

"Anyway," continued Teyla, "We tended to the wounded and came back in the jumper."

"Ably piloted by yours truly, I'll have you know," contributed Rodney, eying the muffin that Elizabeth had still not eaten.

"Well, I guess that explains it. A full report can wait another few days." Elizabeth looked at her watch. "We've given them almost two hours, so I think we can check in, now."

Ronon grabbed Teyla's and Rodney's trays, and reached for Elizabeth's cup, his eyebrows raised in question. She nodded, grabbing the fruit, and he headed off to dispose of their trash, meeting the group at the door. It was a quick trip to the infirmary since all were anxious. They entered the de facto waiting area to find no one around. Gradually, they migrated to their usual places: Elizabeth seated next to Teyla, Ronon standing against the wall next to the entrance, and Rodney seated in a chair, working on his laptop. Edward looked at them all and realized this was a familiar occurrence to them. Sighing for his injury-prone son, but thankful he had such friends, the older colonel chose to pace.

They had been in the area for another two hours when Dr. Beckett emerged from the surgical area, removing his head covering, and using it to wipe his face. Everyone stood up and looked at him with the usual mix of hope and fear.

"Well, he's in recovery and it looks like he'll make it."

There was a general round of exhalations as everyone took a deep breath for the first time since they'd seen the doctor.

"That's not to say he's completely out of the woods. Things got dicey in surgery. We went through five pints of blood, and I was afraid we lost him at one point." It had taken three shocks to get him back, but Carson didn't think they needed to know that. "The bullet wound and the broken clavicle were complicated but not difficult. The subclavian artery, however, comes right off the aorta and is somewhat large. Resectioning it was what took so long."

Beckett took a minute to sit down before he continued. "I'm most worried, however, about the head injury. He never regained consciousness before we had to give him anesthesia, so I don't have any idea what the damage is. We'll be watching that carefully."

Elizabeth cleared her throat. "But he will be alright, right?"

"At this point, I can't be sure until he wakes up. And since he didn't wake up before surgery, I can't be sure when he will. The anesthesia will wear off in a couple of hours. After that, we'll have to see." He looked at the five sober faces. "I suspect ye'll be wanting to see him."

"Yes, please, Carson," said Teyla. The rest nodded.

Carson sighed. It was always the same with this team, but he suspected it was one of the reasons John healed so quickly.

"Alright. Give the nurses some time to clean him up. I'll come get you when he's ready." And with that, Dr. Beckett, miracle worker of the best kind, headed back to the intensive care unit to check on his popular patient.

The sight that met their eyes when they were finally allowed in was too familiar. John lay on the bed connected to a heart monitor, an EEG, a ventilator, and an IV. In some ways the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was comforting to Elizabeth. It meant that in spite of his pallor, he was still with them. His arm was bent up to his chest and immobilized.

"OK, now ye've all seen him, it's time to go get some rest yerselves." Beckett's brogue always seemed to intensify in times of stress.

"Come on, Carson, you know we'll just hang around," said Rodney, pulling up a nearby chair and settling in with his laptop.

Carson sighed. "Aye, I know. Same rules, though. Just one at a time, and all of ye make sure ye get some sleep."

Ronon nudged McKay. "I'll be back in four."

McKay just grunted, already deep in some research he was having trouble with.

Elizabeth nodded at Carson, taking one more look at John's face, pale against his dark hair. She turned and led the others out of the ICU.

As Ronon and Teyla headed off in the direction of the gym, Elizabeth turned to Edward and explained how the team watched over John. "I usually take the late watch. If you would like, you can join me."

The older man nodded, appearing stunned, and walked back toward his quarters. Elizabeth was a little curious, wondering why a military man would be so disturbed by the trappings of an infirmary. Shaking her head, she returned to her interrupted report reading.

Four hours later, she looked up to find Carson at her door.

"Don't think I've forgotten you. I hope you haven't been here all day without eating."

Elizabeth quickly pulled out the fruit core. "Yes, Carson, I've been eating."

Carson made a moue. "If that's all, I'm glad I came by. Log off, now, it's time for dinner."

"Carson, I have to catch up with this paper work. . ."

". . .Which will still be there in the morning." Looking her in the eye, he said softly, "And ye're no good to him if you're too exhausted and famished. Please, just come to dinner."

Elizabeth sighed. Since when was everyone so concerned with her eating habits!?

As she shut her laptop, Carson spoke again. "Aye, I know you think I'm being too concerned. But Dr. Weir, Elizabeth, you didn't see the shell of a leader that I saw last week. I'll not have that happen again on my watch."

Elizabeth nodded, giving him a half smile, and preceded him out the door. As they went down the steps, she turned to the doctor. "Do you mind if we stop and get Colonel Sheppard? He commented that he couldn't eat right after a mission, so he is probably hungry by now."

Carson nodded. "Good idea. I wasn't sure I liked the look of him earlier."

Elizabeth gave a short guffaw. "Carson, you rarely like the look of any of us. We're all stressed out and running on caffeine, you included."

"True enough, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

They soon reached Edward Sheppard's quarters and knocked. The door was jerked open quickly. When he saw who was at the door he grew pale.

"Is John OK?"

Realizing how they must look, the leader and the doctor coming to visit the father, Carson quickly reassured the older man. "Aye, he's still sleeping off the anesthesia. We're just here to see if you'd like a bite to eat."

Edward hung his head, all the tension appearing to leave his body. Straightening up, he gave a half smile and said, "Sure, just let me get some shoes."

The threesome made their way to the mess hall and quickly found something to eat. Carson, who had put in a hard day, was working on a plate that rivaled one of Rodney's, while Elizabeth and Edward were mostly stirring the casserole of the day.

Teyla walked up to join them. "Ronon has gone to relieve Rodney, and I'm sure he will join us."

No sooner had she spoken than the scientist walked up with his usual pile of victuals.

"Greetings, greetings," he said, sitting down and reviewing his meal before he dug in.

"Rodney, has there been any change?" said Elizabeth, pointedly.

"What?" said McKay, looking up with a smear of butter on his chin. "Oh, no, he's still out of it. Ronon is with him now. Oh, I got some great data on that other chair while Sheppard was using it to knock out that hive."

Edward looked up. He hadn't seen John operate the chair before today and had been quite impressed. John's wound had kind of superseded those thoughts. "So exactly what does he do to operate the weapons?"

Rodney went into lecture mode, making points with his fork. "Well, you see the gene allows him to interface directly with the control systems of the chair. He can send up weapons, call up schematics and maps, and adjust power usage, all kinds of stuff. The chair he used today is limited since that installation was more or less an outpost. The chair here has a lot more functions, but we haven't figured out what all of them are, yet."

The rest of the meal passed in relative quiet, and Carson wasn't pleased with the amount Elizabeth ate. When he went to mention it, however, she just stared him down. He shook his head and made a pointed look of his own.

As she gathered her trash, Elizabeth looked over at the doctor. "Carson, I know you wanted only one of us at a time, but do you mind if Edward sits with me?"

Beckett looked at the two who were probably the most closely tied to the man in ICU and nodded. "Aye, but don't be disturbing the other patients."

"Of course not," said Elizabeth, standing up. Nodding to the others, she headed for the waste receptacles, noting as she did so that Edward Sheppard joined her.

As they left the mess hall together, he said, "Dr. Weir . . ."

"Elizabeth, please."

He gave a half smile. "Elizabeth, I need to ask a favor."

She looked at him and headed to a balcony coming up on their right. He followed her out and leaned against the railing with her.

"What can I do, Edward?"

"I am due to go back to the SGC when you send your weekly message tomorrow. I would like your permission to stay another week. At least until John is awake. I, uh, I just can't leave him like this." The man kept his gaze focused on the ocean where the last streaks of a sunset were disappearing,

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. "I'm sure that can be arranged. I'll inform General Landry that you are putting off your departure for a week."

She heard his murmured "thank you," and turned to look at him more closely.

"May I ask you a question?"

He turned to look at her then, and she could see his age reflected in the lines etched on his face with worry. "Of course."

"You were career military. Surely injuries are not new to you, but you seem really disturbed by John's injuries. Is there a special reason?"

The older colonel looked out to sea again and sighed. "When you are commanding in the field, you get close to your men, but they are soldiers. You move through the infirmary and encourage where you can. But you expect to lose some. When you are a family member at home, all you get is a notification: he's OK, or he's injured and coming home, or he's dead and coming home. The end result is already known. I've haven't been through this waiting and uncertainty for a family member since his mother died. It's . . . unsettling. I don't want to lose him." He suddenly looked away and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache.

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. Heading back toward the door, she turned and said, "Would you like to stay here for awhile?"

His "yes" was quiet, and voiced more to the waves than to her.

"Should I come for you when I relieve Ronon?"

At this he turned toward her, backlit by the last of the sunset. "Yes, please. And I appreciate your clearing it with Dr. Beckett."

"Fine. I'll see you around midnight, then."

With that, she returned to her office. Work was still the best treatment she had for worry.

TBC

Reviews welcome!

A/N: Yes, I know this is getting long. Still have at least six chapters...