"Sir, we're ready for you."
Sheppard looked up at the Airmen, saluting in front of him, and his mind drifted back to the last time he had heard that.
It had been the last time he had been on Atlantis.
"I'll be right with you," he said as he stiffly stood up from his cot. He took in a calming breath to ease nerves he didn't even know he had.
His goodbyes on Atlantis had been quick. His friends had looked at him as though he wouldn't be coming back and he had been looking back at them thinking the same.
"Major Lorne, make sure you look after my city," he had said and given the man a firm handshake.
"Your city," Elizabeth said with a wide grin.
"Our city," he'd corrected.
"Just make sure you return Sir," said Lorne.
He gave Teyla a hug and she had told him to take care of himself.
"Ronon," he said acknowledging the bigger man.
"Sheppard."
"Beckett," he had given the Scot a hug.
"Make sure you look after each other out there." He paused for a second, "And make sure you have a fully stocked first aid kit and-"
"I will." He had said.
He'd turned to Mckay and he had a nonchalant look on his face which he couldn't seem to master. He gave him a hug and made him promise yet again that he would come back alive, "Or I'll kill you myself," he'd said.
Sheppard had turned to Elizabeth last. He noted that she looked sad and lost. She gave him a lingering hug and he whispered into her ear to listen to Lorne and be careful.
Then he had turned and walked away and had been berated by Stark for inappropriately hugging the commander of the expedition.
He now wished those goodbyes had been longer.
He smoothed down his uniform of standard Air Force BDU's and readjusted his hold on his P90.
He methodically checked his side arm again. Not his side arm but one issued to him. He missed his own weapon, the way it felt moulded to his fingers and the character it exuded, from the scrape on the base from a stumble running away from the wraith to the tiny chip on the bottom right corner.
This weapon felt alien to him and right now the symbiotic relationship he had with his gun seemed vital.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and remembered the tape on his middle finger and his bruised face simultaneously. With a hiss he pulled it back from the tender area around his eye and cursed those responsible.
Coming back to Afghanistan, whatever his reasons, had been a poor choice. It wasn't like he remembered at all.
He strode out of barracks, past the other neatly made beds and out into the harsh sunlight of the desert where his men were assembled and waiting for him.
Afghanistan. The acrid heat, the dust and the sound of distant gunfire.
He could see his 'little bird' tactical Helicopter behind them waiting to accommodate him and his five men.
As he stood before his team and pulled on his sunglasses he felt the presence behind him and didn't react. Their shadow blotted out his and he couldn't help but think that it was mildly poetic.
"Remember, you're on my time now," he heard Stark say, "You listen to me when you're out there. No deviating." He moved close and Sheppard could feel his hot breath by his ear, "You understand?"
"Yes Sir," said Sheppard coldly.
He flexed his fingers. Thankfully his dislocated finger was not on his gun hand.
"You're clear to go," said Stark stepping back.
Sheppard took a step forward, "You heard the Colonel. Lets go."
He knew his assignment.
It was time to go.
---------------------------
2 MONTHS 3 WEEKS LATER
Elizabeth had received word that the Daedalus would be arriving within the hour and had made sure the relevant people were informed. She'd paced her office, caught up on as many reports as she could and had played solitaire, all the while waiting for that initial spark of static in her ear before Caldwell informed her that they would be setting the Daedalus down.
"Is it here yet?"
She looked up to see Mckay standing in her doorway. He had his hands together and was wringing them for all their worth.
"No Rodney," she said switching off her game of solitaire.
"Because it's been an hour now," he said.
"I know."
"Perhaps something happened to them." Mckay started to pace back and forth.
Elizabeth nodded and stood up, "We'll be the first to-"
"Doctor Weir, this is Caldwell."
"Is that them?" Mckay hissed at her.
Elizabeth held a finger at him and turned away, "Colonel, we were getting worried."
"We had some minor problems with our engines on the way but they've been fixed. I'm going to need a medical team waiting at the hangar when we dock."
"Who's injured?" she asked as Mckay continued to bob and weave around her trying to get her attention.
"Colonel Sheppard."
"Is he okay?" she asked. She was already beginning to worry.
Mckay stepped to her right, "What's he saying?"
"Colonel Sheppard collapsed on the bridge. He insists he's fine but I thought it wouldn't hurt to be cautious."
"Okay," said Elizabeth, "I'll have a team on standby. See you in a minute."
She clicked off.
"Well?" Mckay asked, "What's going on?"
"Beckett?"
"Yes Doctor Weir."
"I need a medical team down to the southern hangar bay to receive one Colonel John Sheppard."
"What's he done now?" Beckett asked suddenly exasperated.
"I have no idea. All I know is that he collapsed on the bridge."
"Okay, I'll get down there."
"Sheppard collapsed?" asked Mckay.
"Come on, let's get down there and welcome him back."
"He's not going to be in the best of moods you realise?" asked Mckay as he followed her.
TBC
Sorry it's a short chapter. Can't seem to write at the moment. You know when you know how you want a story to turn out but you just can't see the way to making it right?
But I wanted to give you all something to let you know I am still writing it.
I sometimes think being a prolific poster is a bad thing, because if you miss one post, you think people lose interest.
Oh and You'll find out more about Afghanistan as you go along.