Thanks for sticking with me! Almost done! Don't deny me... Please R&R. Must have fix...

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Chapter 6

"Two hours? What could she be possibly doing for two hours?" McKay had finally heard Ron on tell the colonel about the bath. "Hmmm. yes. I didn't realize there was a spa here."

"Give it a rest, McKay," Sheppard said from the depths of his blanket. He came inside from the chilled dawn and sat on the cot, knees drawn up, head resting on them. Although he couldn't wait to get home, he wanted Teyla to be happy. Her selflessness and compassion often kept him going – though he'd never admit to it, of course – and kept a few missions from going south. The Athosian was never rewarded like this since he'd known her, so what better place to do it? Truthfully, Sheppard wished he could join her, to soak away the stiffness of his weary bones and soothe the headache that threatened to return with a vengeance.

The doctor returned as promised, looking more bewildered than when he left. Beckett refused to let him sleep any longer. While he was grateful, the colonel noticed the good doctor could do with another forty winks himself. "How're ya feelin', John? Besides the headache, of course. Did ya eat a bit?" Sheppard attempted to wave him off with a languid hand, but Beckett saw this as an opportunity to take his vitals. "I heard Teyla is enjoying herself this morning."

"Yeah," Ronon said shortly. Why the obsession with Teyla today? "The old lady said something about assigning honor to the warrior women." Normally, the Satedan warrior would bare his teeth in another animalistic grin. But this time, he was merely amused, the smile surprisingly lighting his eyes.

"This was once a thriving matriarchal society. The roles were reversed here, unlike many other cultures. They settled land skirmishes and led the hunt," Sheppard's eyes had gone glassy and distant as he flatly recited the information that easily flowed through him. Yep. Big headache... Starting... now! "Due to recent cullings, the population has decreased to–"

Carson reached down and squeezed his patient's shoulder. "That'll be quite enough, Colonel." So much for staying calm. "I want you to stay out of the system for now, son. If you haven't noticed, you heart rate is still a wee bit too fast."

Frowning deeply, Sheppard looked up at his friend and doctor with strange, unfocused eyes. "But I can't. It's just coming to me. Don't even have to think about it." He shrugged underneath the blanket. "Would be cool if it wasn't so pervasive."

"Pervasive?" McKay looked up from his tablet with knitted brows. "That's a big word even for you, Sheppard."

"I know!" The colonel's eyes were now wide with amusement. "And I even used it correctly in a sentence." With some difficulty, Sheppard attempted to stand. If Beckett denied him sleep, then he could deny the doctor further reason for examining him.

However, Beckett seemed more distracted than he realized at first. Yes, pervasive was a good word. You couldn't go anywhere, or think about anything without getting an answer from somewhere. As fascinating as it was, it was still disconcerting. The doctor had access to all the medical data recorded from this planet up until its last guardian disappeared. Or died.

In fact, the medical information had not been nearly as invasive as the chair room. Beckett was not sure he wanted to go anywhere near the outpost. It had completely drained the colonel physically and mentally. The doctor wondered about the toll it had already taken on his own body, and it could not match Sheppard's condition. The whole experience was exhausting and exhilarating all at once. He acquired information when he asked the questions aloud also, but it was more straightforward.

At one point, Beckett surmised that the local healer was more interested in hearing his accented voice than in information. He thought back on his brief visit. The woman with bright white hair stared at him intently, her teal eyes boring into him as she attempted to make conversation they could both understand. He had a feeling she wasn't as old as she appeared.

Her healing hut was well-equipped with four beds, and various medicinal herbs. According to the hidden panel in the large room, these herbs seemed to be more effective than some of the drugs Beckett kept in his own infirmary. Opening her apothecary cabinet, she carefully placed a malformed root into his hands. "This is for John Sheppard. Will you give it to him?" she asked happily.

"Well, I... I'm not sure what–" Carson had stammered as he identified the root, information flooded in. The root would help with his fatigue and nearly eliminate the feeling of coldness the colonel had been experiencing as of late. While the doctor had other ideas on how to combat the symptoms, the root seemed a good place to start. "There are a coupla other roots I'd like to study, if that's all right."

"Yes! Yes!" The healer flew about the room as the medical doctor rattled off several plants. Offhandedly, she made a comment about the village tradition of keeping their birth names hidden from outsiders. "It has always been a matter of trust. Our enemies have used familiarity against us in the past, gaining entrance without earning the privilege. Not only do we have our given names, but there are family names and clan names."

Beckett had thought about her words. Perhaps it was wise, and definitely confusing. The database had provided a long list of clans that were recorded for posterity. Even how to determine marriage alliances used to form a new clan. Fascinating. He blinked and found the healer standing very close to him, her hand on his arm.

"But we are siblings in our field, yes?" she had said, eyes glinting mischievously in the low light.

However, Carson was thinking about taboo. What would Elizabeth do? "Well, I certainly don't mind if I don't get to know yer name," he said, hoping to alleviate the pressure. "I don't want ye to compromise any of yer trad–"

"Kerna," she had blurted, afraid and relieved all at once.

Beckett remembered smiling amiably, but her name was so close to sounding like Parna. It left a sour taste in his mouth as he repeated it.

The woman smiled back. "I used to hate my family name, because it was for an old woman. We forget such foolishness when we get older. Yet, when you say my name, it does not seem so bad," she admitted, as two spots of color darkened her cheeks. They both laughed for a while. When it came time for him to leave, she threw her arms around him, constricting his arms. "You will come back to visit, yes?"

"Oh, yes! Definitely," he said hoping that were true. "Besides, if the colonel does well with this, I may need more of your callis root." He waved good bye, and made his way back to the communal hut.

When Beckett had returned to his patient's side, the doctor expected Sheppard to be asleep. To his delight, the colonel had not only eaten, but he remained somewhat awake. "Well, son. Are ye ready to make the trek to the 'jumper? I can call–"

"No, no," Sheppard said as he wavered toward the door. "I can walk." Stopping suddenly, he turned to his friend and doctor. "And for that matter, I will not need a gurney later, thank you."

"Whatever, Colonel Catastrophe," McKay mumbled as he moved past the unsteady pale man. "Ten bucks says you're hitchin' a ride horizontally."

"You're on, McKay!"

Beckett fought to keep his eyes from rolling. Now that McKay set the challenge, the colonel would do his best to remain on his feet. Not the best idea, but... "Suit yerself. We'll see how ye fare when we get back."

McKay and Ronon walked out onto the small covered patio in front of the hut. They were discussing traditions on their respective planets, when Ronon spotted a figure in white moving gracefully across the stone path. "Good day, Honored One!" He gave the Athosian a low sweeping bow before he held out his hands to guide her up the step. If McKay didn't know better, he could swear there was a cloud under her feet.

Teyla laughed lightly as she squeezed his hands. "Good day to you, Warrior of the Hunt." She looked expectantly around the large body blocking her sight. "How is Colonel Sheppard?" It wasn't that she was ignoring the scientist, but there were more pressing matters. Besides, she was not entirely sure about the look on his face.

Ronon moved to the side. "See for yourself."

She saw a pallid man standing before her shuffling towards the entrance. A white hand clutched a brightly colored blanket around his shoulders. "Hey, Teyla," he smiled, feeling his trademark grin curve his lips.

Her own smile was usually reserved, even compassionate. But the smile she gave to Sheppard was electric. Teyla walked directly up to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. As the colonel tipped his head for the Athosian greeting, she stopped him, looking him straight in the eye. "How are you, John?" she asked, daring him to lie.

Sheppard merely maintained his grin and returned the look. "I'm fine," he said gently. "Just very, very tired." Could everyone stop asking me that? He jerked his head toward the door. "What say we go home?"

Although Teyla saw something stirring behind those amused multi-colored eyes, she squeezed his arms, and turned to lead the way. "Doctor McKay," she said, tipping her head. "I trust you have gained whatever knowledge you were seeking here?"

"Yes, yes, of course," McKay waved a dismissive hand at her. "So, umm, how was your experience?"

"McKay! Leave it alone," the colonel spoke slowly and concisely. He dragged his pack along, dislodging small pebbles from the path.

"Well, I was curious! Give me that," he sighed as he bent to take the colonel's pack.

"I can carry my own–"

"No, you can't. And I refuse to see Beckett have to deal with another one of your accidents, Colonel. Last thing we need is for you to trip over your own precious backpack." Before Sheppard could retort, McKay plowed ahead. "I'm going to the outpost to get the rest of my things."

"Will wonders never cease?" Beckett unconsciously placed a hand under the colonel's elbow. Sheppard would have snatched it away, but he seemed to be concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

The pilot spotted the puddlejumper; his heart leapt. The 'jumper responded by powering up immediately. Not just yet, Jumper One. Gotta say good bye. Sheppard saw a small crowd of villagers blocking their way to the small ship. Zoame stood at the center making calming gestures.

"John Sheppard!" she said loudly, causing the people to part and let her through. The spokeswoman held out her hands to grasp the one Sheppard offered. He does not look well, yet he is better than last night. Zoame held his icy hand between her own, absently rubbing to generate warmth. "I trust you have rested well?"

The tall man smiled his pleasant smile. "I'm fine, Chosen One," Sheppard said, more than a little surprised. The title popped up in his mind while he was deciding whether or not to use her name in public. "Can I tell you something?" he whispered.

She waved a hand at a nearby bench. "Please. Let us sit." The man's sigh of relief was not missed as he stiffly lowered himself down. As she settled next to him, Zoame could feel the apprehension rolling off her people. They needed to know that the strangers' leaving did not mean they were unsafe. She watched him collect his thoughts.

Finally, the man turned his pale face to meet her eyes. "I – well, we – have set up this outpost to protect you as long as it can. It will detect Wraith and destroy them before they can do any harm. You and your people will be safe for a while."

Tears welled in her eyes as she closed them. Blindly, she reached out and snagged the colonel's head, planting a kiss on his forehead. "You and your people are welcome here at any time," she said, loudly enough for her uncertain crowd to hear.

When they broke contact, Sheppard's face was a bit flushed as he smiled sheepishly. "I'll share the good news with my leader. Thank you." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw McKay walking toward the jumper. "And Doctor McKay thanks you for the tea."

Zoame laughed. "He has said as much through his actions, though I have never seen anyone worship a liquid before."

"That's Rodney for you." The colonel removed the blanket, trying not to shiver. "Thanks for the blanket. It was very warm." According to the weather station, it was going to be a very nice day. But, damn it all, he was cold. The very thought of his warm bed was the only thing keeping him upright. He was now quite determined to get home as he stood unsteadily from the bench.

The elderly woman rose with him, and gathered the folds of the blanket, and pulled it tightly around the shivering man. "You will take this blanket as a gift, young man." She smiled fondly at him, patting his shoulder. "Farewell, and keep warm."

Sheppard gave a sad smile, remembering a Robert Frost poem. Suddenly, he felt like the cold orchard. How did he get so attached to these people so soon? He cleared his throat quietly, swallowing the lump that had formed. The colonel moved slowly towards the 'jumper ignoring the hand under his elbow.

Keep cold, young orchard. Good-bye and keep cold.

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A/N: Ugh! That was difficult. Almost hurt my feelings. Sorry for the rambling. I'll try to make it up to everyone with the epilogue. Oh and, the Robert Frost thing: Apologies to the non-fans of poetry. It was the one thing that came to mind when I was writing how cold he was. And in my fic, John Sheppard can quote anyone he wants to. Ha!

NEXT: The City has something to say to John Sheppard...