Hm... I haven't gotten any sort of alerts from fanfiction(dot)net in quite awhile now. I don't know what's up. I have replied to my lovely reviews, but just in case those replies aren't going out, I wanted to thank those of you who left reviews. I love, love, love them. Also thanks to those of you reading. It means so much to know that people do read!!

FYI - I updated the first chapter a little. When I went back to watch the ep, I realized that Teyla didn't actually send her watch through. She sent it in much the way Rodney sent the camera, so Teer wouldn't have it. Nothing else changed, just that little bit.

Now, on with the story...

John met Teer's eyes in the mirror. Gone was the allusion she had given in the sanctuary of the gentle, lovely young woman. Now he saw the coldness there, the determination to get what she wanted at all costs.

He braced himself against the sink with one hand, the other trembled as he battled for control. He knew he was strong, and yet the blade continued to bite into his flesh, it slid ever closer to the veins where his life's blood literally flowed.

"End this," he said through clenched teeth.

She smiled at him, "But John, it's not an ending. It's just the beginning. Just let yourself go and you'll see. We can be together forever."

He didn't know how he had ever been fooled by her. But no more.

"No," he ground out.

"Oh, John," she sighed softly, "why do you always have to do things the hard way?"

He didn't answer, he just concentrated on resisting with all he had.

But he was losing.

Her hand was pushing the blade farther and farther down, closer and closer to his jugular.

The door to the bathroom slid open as Rodney chose that moment to let himself in, a stack of disks in his hand.

"Sheppard, this is the saddest collection of movies…"

John didn't know what he was going to say because Teer was suddenly gone and it was his own hand at his throat with blood running down his fingers. Rodney stopped, his eyes wide with shock at what he saw. Instantly, he tapped his com.

"Medical emergency in Sheppard's quarters," he yelled. He dropped the disks, heedless of the fact that he stepped on several of them to get to Sheppard.

"Put the razor down," he said quietly, like he was talking someone off a ledge.

It would have been funny if Sheppard's hand wasn't shaking so damn bad he was afraid he was going to finish the job that Teer had started. He did manage to pull the razor away from his own throat, staring fascinated at the blood that coated it, little drops falling. He began to shake in earnest from reaction, his knees buckling.

Rodney was there to ease him down onto the toilet. He carefully took the razor from John's trembling fingers and put it in the sink, twisting the water off. Then Rodney picked up the towel and pressed it to John's chin – hard.

"What were you doing?" Rodney asked, still in that too-quiet tone.

He was afraid of spooking him, John thought. Too late.

The room was beginning to spin. John clutched Rodney's wrist, letting it ground him, willing himself to calm down.

"Sheppard?"

John could hear the worry in Rodney's voice, he just didn't think he knew what to tell him. Was it worse for them to think he was trying to cut his own throat or that Teer was haunting him? He didn't know that he was laughing until Rodney shook him.

"Colonel, stop it," he said sharply.

John blinked up at him as he realized that he was holding Rodney's wrist too tightly, but Rodney wasn't saying any thing about that. There was only worry for his friend in his eyes.

"I'm sorry…" John began only to be interrupted by the doctor's arrival.

Carson took in the scene before him – the sink splattered red, John with a blood-soaked towel at his throat, his fingers locked around Rodney's wrist.

He muttered, "Oh, bloody hell. What now?"

Reluctantly John let go of Rodney's wrist so that Carson could move in. The doctor pulled the towel away so he could get a look at the wound beneath.

"Would one of you like to tell me what's going on here?" he asked.

Rodney crossed his arms tightly, "I was just asking the colonel that myself."

"Colonel?" Carson asked, adopting the same quiet voice Rodney was using.

John wanted to answer, he did. But the room really was spinning around him now. Little black dots were dancing on the edges of his vision and behind Rodney in the doorway he could see Teer smiling at him.

"See you around, John," she said

"Teer," he called out to her as he slid into darkness.

--SGA--

It wasn't something he thought he'd ever see. It was certainly something he never wanted to see again. John Sheppard with a razor at his throat, blood everywhere – it looked a scene from a bad horror movie. Rodney knew it would be featuring in a few of his nightmares now.

First he had to get help, that much he knew. Tapping his com, he took care of that, "Medical emergency in Sheppard's quarters." He didn't even wait for a response before moving cautiously forward.

Rodney had seen Sheppard in a lot of stressful situations – in pain, angry, pissed, even high as a kite when they'd ingested some alien mushroom thing by mistake, but he'd never seen him shaking from fear. Rodney had to swallow down his own nausea at the sight of the blood everywhere, too much blood.

Rodney moved slowly, afraid that if he moved too quickly it might cause Sheppard to finish what he started.

Shit, what it looked like he'd started.

There was no way Rodney would believe the John Sheppard would kill himself. No matter what it looked like. He might throw himself in front of a bullet meant for a team member or fly away on some idiot suicide mission meant to save the city, but he wouldn't deliberately take his own life. No way.

Still Sheppard stood there, razor to his throat, blood flowing from the wound in his throat. Where was the jugular? Rodney wandered worriedly. Maybe he'd nicked something because there was so much blood and it didn't look like Sheppard was going to move anytime soon.

"Put the razor down," Rodney said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. He knew that he tended toward the extreme, but the situation was extreme enough without any help from him. He figured that he needed to get the colonel out of harm's way then they could figure out what was going on.

His hand shaking, Sheppard did as instructed for once, moving the razor away from his throat. All the color drained from his face and Rodney knew that Sheppard wasn't going to be standing much longer as his whole body began to shake. Rodney moved forward to catch the man just as his knees buckled and eased him down to sit on the toilet.

Carefully he prized the razor from Sheppard's fingers. Rodney had to curl the fingers back, Sheppard was clutching it so tightly. He set it on the far side of the sink, as far from the colonel as he could get it. Then he grabbed up a towel and pressed it to the wound, pressing hard, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Sheppard just sat, letting Rodney do all the work, eyes dazed and haunted.

"What were you doing?" Rodney asked at last, no longer able to contain himself. He thought he actually did a good job of keeping his own freak out reigned in. Keep calm. Keep Sheppard calm. Where the hell was Carson?

Sheppard didn't answer him. If anything his face went whiter before he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Rodney's wrist. His grip was tight. Rodney thought he could feel the bones in his wrist grinding together.

"Sheppard?" Rodney shut his mouth before anything else spilled out.

You're freaking me out, Sheppard, tell me why you'd do this.

Maybe Sheppard knew what he wasn't saying because he began to laugh, more than a little hysterically. Rodney didn't know what to do. Carson was supposed to be there, Carson was supposed to take care of hysterical colonels and bleeding wounds. This was more than he knew how to deal with. Rodney McKay knew physics and numbers, he didn't know how to deal with people.

He reached out with the hand that Sheppard didn't have a death grip on and shook him, hard.

"Colonel, stop it," he commanded in his sharpest voice, the one he saved for Kavanaugh when he was being an extra special ass.

For a second there was nothing, then Sheppard blinked and seemed to come back to himself. He looked up at Rodney questioningly, as if not quite sure where he was. He eased up his grip on Rodney's wrist. Although it was too late, there was going to be Colonel John Sheppard finger-sized bruises on Rodney's wrist soon. And wouldn't that be special?

Sheppard swallowed, "I'm sorry," he began just as Carson arrived.

Finally.

Rodney was never so relieved to hear, "Oh, bloody hell, what now…"

It was with some reluctance that he stepped back to allow the doctor in closer to Sheppard. Suddenly it was cold in the bathroom. Sheppard was as white as the tile in the Ancient room and he stared at a point just beyond Rodney.

Rodney had a feeling that Sheppard could see something Rodney and the doctor couldn't. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself in an effort to stave off his own freak out. He didn't think Carson could deal with two patients at the moment.

He watched as Carson knelt beside the colonel, pulling the towel away to get a look at the damage. There was just so much blood. Surely too much blood. Still, while Carson looked concerned, it was Carson's everyday concerned, not the concerned that he reserved for life threatening emergencies. Rodney felt himself begin to, not relax exactly, but breathe a little easier.

"Would one of you like to tell me what's going on here?" Carson asked in a quite reasonable tone. And Rodney would have told him if he had a clue.

"I was just asking the colonel that myself," he informed Carson, careful to use the quiet voice. Things seemed to be calming down and Rodney didn't want to be the one that caused them to careen out of control again.

"Colonel?" Rodney was amused to note that Carson had adopted the same quiet tone. Or maybe it was always Carson's tone and Rodney had just picked it up from too much time spent in the infirmary.

Sheppard was staring at them both, eyes wide and a little vacant, his gaze going from one to the other and then to that point beyond Rodney. Involuntarily Rodney glanced back, but no, there was nothing there but Sheppard's bedroom. He turned back in time to see Sheppard's mouth form a word.

As Sheppard's eyes rolled back in his head and he slid forward into Carson's arms, he said a single word, "Teer."

You guessed it, To be continued...