Thanks to everyone for your reviews! It is da crack. Sorry for the delay; some RL and laziness contributed to the delinquency. Medical stuff is not my thing, however fascinating it is, so there's some obvious mistakes. Thanks to divineway for her encouragement!

And a lil shout out to Stealth Dragon for her fic Crash (cracks me up!), and Titan5 for Nightwalker. I recently read these fics over again, and y'all should take a look at them!

Chapter 5

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Teyla rose just before the morning sun peeked over the horizon. Zoame had promised her a special bath in her own tub. Quietly, she checked on the colonel and the doctor – both of whom seemed dead to the world around them – and slipped outside. Ronon walked towards her from the forest, having just returned from an early hunt with the men of the village. She suspected he needed to secure perimeter, making sure there were no lingering Wraith in the area. "Good hunt?"

The Satedan grinned his feral grin, this time the pleasure of the hunt actually reached his eyes. "Of course. I'll miss hunting something other than Wraith, but Halling has promised me a morning on the mainland." His brow knitted in curiosity. "Where are you going?"

Teyla smiled brightly, bouncing on her toes. "Zoame has promised me a traditional bath. She said that all honored women should have one."

"Honored?" Amusement filled Ronon's dark eyes.

The petite woman sauntered down the steps, carelessly tossing her hair. "She said that if I had to put up with so many men at once, then all honor to me." She laughed breezily, moving past him.

Flashing white teeth in a quick grin, Ronon let her pass. "Have fun," he said as he turned to enter the hut. Glancing back at her, he watched her gracefully and quickly climb the stairs at the neighboring hut. After a moment, she gave a happy wave and disappeared into the hut.

Upon entering the larger hut, Ronon shirked off his coat. As quietly as he could, he stepped over the sleeping bodies of his team members. Stepping over the last body, namely Rodney McKay, the runner leaned down to check on Sheppard. Peeling back the blankets a bit, he saw a pale face, made whiter by dark stubble. At least he looks human today. Turning away, he felt eyes on him. "Doctor Beckett."

The doctor looked around blearily from his place on the floor. Rubbing a hand roughly across his face, he struggled to sit up. "What time is it?" he asked, voice raspy with exhaustion.

"Very early. You should go back to sleep."

After blinking a few more times, he turned to look at the only cot in the room. "I'll just check on him first, then–"

"He's fine, Beckett. Just asleep."

As much as he wanted to be angry with Ronon for telling him what to do, he couldn't fault the man. He was so very tired, after all. "Ah don't know what happened ta me," he said shakily. "Ah feel like Ah could sleep fer days." Finally, he focused on the large man standing over him. If he had blinked, he would have missed the look of discomfort from Ronon. "What is it, son?"

"McKay will fill you in on the technical stuff. But you and Sheppard got up in the middle of the night and went down to the chair room."

Beckett remained stock still while his eyes grew wider. "We did?" As he dropped his eyes to his neatly folded hands, he cast his mind back. Vaguely, something bubbled to the surface of his memory. Stairs. He did remember coming up stairs. "There was a HUD, right? And a smooth console..." Now instantly awake, he folded back the top layer of his sleeping bag.

"Yeah, and Teyla checked on Sheppard while you went to bed." Ronon had hoped the sleepy doctor would go back to sleep. "So you don't have to worry about him right now."

Beckett's brow was still creased in concentration. "He spoke Ancient and I–"

"Understood it. Yes. A modern miracle." McKay's head popped up from his makeshift pillow. "Can we go back to sleep now?"

Waving his hand dismissively, Beckett got to his knees, shuffling over to the pile of blankets on the cot. The colonel was cocooned even tighter this time; it was a miracle he was still breathing. Peeling away the layers, Beckett lay a hand on a pale cheek. Warm, but not too warm, which he thought was puzzling to him. Wrapped in all those blankets, he should be sweating bullets. Reaching further into the soft covers, the doctor fished out a hand, and checked Sheppard's pulse. Still so fast, yet the colonel's fingers were icy. "Come on, now Colonel. Time to get up," he said. Getting his hand under the pale arm, the doctor noticed the bruise that had formed when the IV was hastily removed.

"Mmmmm... G' off. Not tellin' you nothin'," Sheppard slurred.

Beckett tossed a look back at Ronon. "He's got to get movin'. Circulation's sufferin' a bit, and I hope that's all." Placing his right hand under the colonel's neck, Beckett eased him up to a tentative sitting position. Once he was balanced, the doctor began unwrapping the blankets. He feels a bit shocky, but I'm not goin' there just yet.

Morning light came streaming weakly through the window, causing Sheppard to react. "Bright," he croaked.

"Yes, Colonel. That means it's time to wake up," Beckett said simply.

"Carson? When did you get here?" Suddenly, the colonel stiffened, his eyes more alert. "Wait. Is today tomorrow?"

"Sheppard, I know you've been asleep for more than eighteen hours, but–"

"Get these off! I have to–" The colonel struggled out of the blankets. Once out of his self-made cocoon, he stumbled over the prone scientist, and escaped Carson's clutches. In a light jog, he headed for the chair room. The heavy door opened just as he reached it, faintly illuminating the short stairs. Taking the stairs quicker than he should have, Sheppard nearly lost his footing on the last step.

The room had come alive with displays. He moved to the far wall of displays, admiring his handiwork. Nodding in satisfaction, he crossed his arms and moved to the next display. "We did good, Carson," he said with a wistful smile.

"Colonel, I need you to calm– What exactly do you mean by that?" Beckett asked, a little more than distracted by the room.

McKay had fallen uncharacteristically quiet as he surveyed the displays. "I don't believe this," he said softly in wide-eyed wonder. "You've got this place set on automatic."

"What's on auto?" Major Lorne had joined them downstairs.

The scientist frowned at the now overcrowded room. Wide open spaces! Grassy clearings, mountain air... Turning his attention away from the people closing in on him, McKay pointed at the displays. "Everything. You've set all the perimeters for Wraith ships of all sizes."

"Drone storehouses, too," the colonel said proudly. "Fixed those." As relief settled around him, his strength lessened. Leaning heavily against the console, Sheppard caught his 2IC's eye. "Time to go home, boys and girls." All at once, everything winked off, leaving them in near darkness. Ambient light from upstairs filtered in as the team filed up the stairs.

Sheppard barely made it back to his bed when his knees gave out. He was steadied by a handy Scotsman. The colonel opened his mouth, but the doctor cut him off. "I'll not hear 'I'm fine', John. I need ye to stay calm; don't need ye goin' inta shock. You will not go anywhere near that room or that outpost until I get back. No arguments," said Beckett, using his patented freeze-in-place blue glare emphasized by a severe finger. "I've got a stop to make, and I will be back in one hour."

The pale man nodded once. "A' right, C'rson. Promish." I'm so tired! What is wrong with me? There was an interruption in the vibrations around him. No comments from the peanut gallery!

"Oh no you don't!" McKay was immediately by the listing man's side as his eyes slipped closed. "You will not go back to sleep until you answer my questions!" Grasping both shoulders, McKay righted the pilot's lethargic body. I'm getting a little tired of catching you, Colonel!

Green eyes measured blue as Sheppard blearily stared at McKay. "Not now, Rodney," secretly hoping the scientist would not let go.

"Rodney, please. I'm sure John will answer any questions later," Beckett said barely containing his irritation.

Kneeling down beside his patient, Beckett checked Sheppard's pulse again. Slower, but not where he wanted it. His hands were a bit warmer, too. Against his better judgement, he made a decision. "Now, son. I'm not going to put that IV back in so long as ye move about, and get some food in ye. Yer still a bit dehydrated, so I want you to drink plenty of fluids right now." Patting the knee again, he rose. "Ye will call right away if ye have any dizziness or chills at all. We'll talk about sleep later. Fer now, I need you to stay awake as long as possible." Elbowing the scientist out of the way, Beckett lifted the unsteady colonel to his feet.

When Sheppard found his legs, he gazed around suppressing a shiver. "Anybody seen my jacket?" Ronon retrieved a dark jacket from a pack. "Thanks." Carefully pulling it on, he glanced around looking for his missing team member. "Anybody seen Teyla?"

Teyla entered Zoame's bathing hut with a little apprehension and a lot of excitement. The hut was dark and warm dispelling the morning chill from her exposed skin. She was greeted at the door by two young girls, who led her to a small private room.

On one side, a deep narrow tub had been filled with scented water. Ackallie flowers floated on the warm water, adding spice to the sweet smell filling the room. The aromas had her mind tumbling back to Athos, and a time when times were simpler. Shoving the thoughts away, Teyla stripped out of her clothes, feeling comfortably exposed. The people from Earth had so many taboos, she lost count. Naked and stretching lithely, she stood on her tiptoes, letting her fingertips reach for the high ceiling. Breathing in deeply the unfamiliar, yet pleasant aromas, Teyla immediately felt more relaxed than she had felt in a very long time.

There was a light knock at the door post as the sheer curtain swept back. The two girls entered, each carrying baskets of cloths and flowers. They each took one of Teyla's hands, and helped her into the tub. Sliding down into the water, Teyla closed her eyes, allowing the warmth seep into her bones.

"All women should have this tradition," she whispered.

Zoame entered quietly, sitting in a corner of the room. "Yes. It is a great honor to serve the warriors of the battle. Sylana sees Teyla ,Warrior of Athos. She has fought bravely for your people, and deserves your blessing." She paused, lighting a candle. The girls stood on each end of the tub, began to hum. They walked slowly towards each other sprinkling a fine powder into the water.

Tiny bubbles caressed her skin, tickling her nose when they popped on the surface. A contented smile curved her mouth, letting the odor of the water and the candle pervade all of her senses. Teyla felt fingers in her hair, and the girls poured flowery water over her head. Massaging her head, and working the scent throughout her hair. A memory bubbled forth as the elderly woman began to sing. Teyla remembered the last time she allowed someone wash her hair.

Years ago, she had broken her arm during a culling. It was not as bad as the last, yet this time was different. Central figures had perished or were culled. She had lost her advisors and close friends, but worse, she had lost her will to lead. Try as she might, Teyla found it difficult to rally her people to rebuild.

Weeks with little sleep, and higher stress on came crashing down on her young shoulders at once. If anyone could identify with her new commanding officer, it was Teyla herself. Exhaustion and fever had drained her completely, leaving her little reason to rise from her bed.

At the end of a sunny cool day, Halling had come seeking her out. He was what Colonel Sheppard would call her 'right hand man.' Since she lacked the strength, Teyla had missed the evening meal. He came looking for her, worried about her injuries. Halling brought food, hoping she would be well enough to eat. Silently, he watched her nibble on her food. Then he finally took her hand to stop the senseless torture.

She had wanted to flinch away, but at that moment, Teyla needed his touch. To feel something, anything other that the cold fear and the hot flame of fever. Grabbing his large hand, she held it tightly as she battled tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

Without letting go, Halling stood, drawing her up with him. He had pulled her close then, waiting for the inevitable. Ah, how she cried! When the tears and the shaking finally subsided, he led her to her father's oversized chair, wrapping her tightly in a blanket. Halling reached down, lightly touching her cheek before quietly leaving her side.

Minutes later, he returned coaxing her to stand. She had swayed, and he caught her by her good arm. Easily, he scooped her up into his long arms and carried her into the bathing room. As much as she wanted to look into his caring, soulful eyes, she could not, for fear another bout of crying would occur. Knowing Halling as she did, Teyla knew that he would not speak until she was ready. She let the water warm her, hoping that he would never leave her.

They had shared many such intimate moments together before, however at that moment, Teyla could not convey how she felt at that moment. To this day, she still could not. If Halling had not been there, it is likely she would not be here, soaking, remembering an important incident.

He had stepped into the tub behind her, drawing her close. Then he positioned her head so it lay in the crook of his elbow, mindful of her injured arm. Repeatedly squeezing water from a cloth, he drenched her hair. Somehow, he had managed to massage soap into her hair with one hand. She felt his long fingers against her scalp, scrubbing away all the tension of the last few days, easing her headache.

After rinsing her hair, he had held her tightly, cheek resting against her wet skin. "I am here," he had whispered. Teyla remembered she had closed her eyes then, savoring his breath on her skin. They stayed in the water until it cooled, until she felt worthy enough to smile. Rising, he toweled them both dry. With a touch, she stopped his busy hands from drying her hair. She drew his head down to hers, beginning a traditional greeting. Instead she offered a kiss. Long and deep, the kiss meant more than a passing attraction. It was years of friendship and trust and heartbreak.

Halling lifted her up in his arms, smiling against her lips.

"A memory, child?"

Teyla's eyes flew open, surprised they were damp with unshed tears.

"The way you were smiling, I hazard to guess it was a good one." Zoame said quietly, holding a towel large enough to be a blanket. "Come, Teyla of Athos. The water has chilled."

Sheepishly, Teyla smiled as she rose. "Yes. It was a very good memory."

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TBC

That was soooo cheesy! I can't believe I wrote that. Oh well.

Next up: How does The City feel about John's new level of sensitivity? Two chapters to go. I think. Working on finishing my ThoughtCrimes story, and I'm getting John Sheppard and Brendan Dean mixed up. Funny. They are essentially the same character, however, one is darker and more haunted than the other.

Anyhoo, please R&R, and support your local whumpaholics!