Hellooooooooo everyone. Bet you never expected to see this story again. Heh. Me either. But it was driving me nuts. I have to finish it. So that's what I'm going to do, nearly a year later. It seems to be going in a totally different direction than I originally intended and will probably suck the big one. But at least it will be done and I can move on. ::nods::

Thanks for sticking with me, those of you who have muddled through. I really appreciate it.

AMONG THE RUINS...part 11

John came awake to the sound of whispering. Not talking though, singing. He peeled his eyes open and was surprised to see Deyenne sitting beside him on the bed. She was the one singing. It surprised him, although it probably shouldn't have. He could talk to him, so why wouldn't she be able to sing? But it creeped him out for reasons he didn't want to think about, despite the fact that the song was actually quite lovely. It sounded rather like a lullaby.

But it stopped abrubtly.

"You're awake," Deyenne said, shifting closer to him.

"Guess so," John croaked, trying to sit up. He managed to manuever the pillows behind him and then he remembered what had happened. Turning his head, he was relieved to see Teyla resting beside him. Her color was back to normal and she looked peaceful. John reached out to her with a shaking hand, needing to feel for a pulse. He felt relief wash over him in a wave when a strong beat thumped against his skin.

Deyenne was watching him closely. "Teyla is doing well," she said to him. "They all are."

John turned his head, searching for Ronon and Carson, finally looking down at the floor when Deyenne pointed in that direction. Carson and Ronon were both curled up there, wrapped in blankets. They looked like themselves again. The feeling of relief made John feel almost giddy, and he closed his eyes against the sudden sting of tears. After a few, shuddery, breaths to calm himself, he opened his eyes and asked, "How long have I been out of it?"

"You've been drifting in and out of awareness for two days," Deyenne replied. "The others were worried about you. "

"That's what friends do," John said softly. "They worry." But it was wonderful to let that worry go, like a heavy weight shifting off him and leaving him feeling a bit floaty. He was feeling floaty in another sense as well. He needed to use the bathroom. He sat up, gripping the sheets to steady himself, and pushed off the bed. His legs felt like rubber and John had to lock his knees for a moment, but then he was moving to the bathroom, determined to get there even if he had to crawl.

Halfway there his knees buckled and he prepared himself to hit the floor when strong hands gripped him and steadied him. Somehow John wasn't the least bit surprised to find Ronon holding him. The big guy could move with the speed and silence of a cat. "Thanks." John was grateful for the rescue.

Ronon helped him into the bathroom. "Should have called me," he chided, before stepping outside and closing the door.

Which effectively cut John off from responding. Not that he cared about that right now. He took care of business, washed his hands and took a moment to check his reflection in the mirror. He was paler than normal and his eyes were ringed with shadows, but he figured some rest and he'd be fine. The moment they were back in Atlantis he would lock himself in his room and sleep for days. Then he would be as good as new.

"You done?" Ronon asked, having entered the room without John noticing.

"I'm done," John conceded, accepting Ronon's support to get him back to the bed. He found Carson awake and waiting for him. He didn't argue over being pushed back down and fussed over. He was too tired to argue right now.

Carson gave him a quick once over then asked, "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

John considered for a moment, wondering how to answer it briefly yet honestly. Finally he smiled and said, "Alive." Because that was it in a nutshell. He was alive, his team mates were alive. That made him feel pretty damn good, inspite of feeling exhausted.

"Aye, that you are," Carson replied, grinning. He obviously got what John meant.

"You okay, Doc?" John countered. "All of you?"

Carson nodded. "We're fine."

John felt a touch on his shoulder and turned his head to see that Teyla was awake and smiling at him. "Welcome back," John said to her.

"It is good to be back," she replied. "Thank you, John." She leaned in to touch their foreheads together in the way of her people.

"Any time," he said, feeling a bit embarrassed. So he was grateful when Carson garnered his attention again.

"Are you hungry?" the Scotsman asked his charge, concern glittering in his blue eyes.

It took John a moment to realize that the hollow feeling in his stomach was hunger. "I could eat," he allowed, and he chuckled when Ronon tossed him a powerbar, right on cue. But after only one bite, John set it aside. His stomach decided to protest against him.

Carson tutted at him. "You need to eat, son," he scolded him, sounding so close to John's grandmother that it made him flinch.

"I'll eat when we get back to Atlantis," John replied, because he was more than ready to go home. He had questions he wanted answers too, like what had happened after he'd passed out and all, but those could wait. Since everyone was okay now, he just wanted out of this place.

"I'm ready to go home," Ronon interjected.

Teyla was nodding. "Yes. It will be nice to be back. I am certain the others are most worried about us."

Carson sighed. "I think I was worried about us enough for everyone," he stated, and no one argued the point.

John knew they had cut it a little too close this time. He'd be happy with staying on Altantis and chilling out. At least for a little while. "Everyone get their gear together and we'll head out," he said, hearing the eagerness in his own voice.

"I think it would be best if you rested for a while first," Carson countered, his eyes roving over John critically. He had his doctor's face on, arms folded over his chest and his tone firm.

"I can rest later," John protested, because he really really wanted to go home.

Teyla patted his arm, her eyes brimming with sympathy. But for all that she took Carson's side. "Rest for a bit, John. We need to gather our things and I know that Carson wanted to collect some samples to take back with us."

He wanted to argue with her, but a jaw-cracking yawn took him off guard and made whatever he might have said a moot point. So he scowled at them all, but he stayed put, allowing Carson to cover him with a blanket. "I'll rest for two hours," John said. "Then we head back."

"That'll do," Carson allowed. He patted John on the shoulder then turned and headed out the door.

"I will help him collect our things," Teyla said, sliding off the bed.

John had rather expected her to stay. "Don't you need to rest too?" he countered. After all, she had been the sickest of them all, so it didn't seem fair that she was better off than he was.

As if reading his mind, Teyla smiled at him and said, "I have rested for the past two days. Thanks to you I am much better now. But you had to sacrifice much to make us well. You have earned your rest, John."

"Have you been taking lessons in diplomacy from Elizabeth?" John groused, pouting a little.

"I am merely reminding you of the facts," Teyla replied. Then she was moving towards the door as well.

Which left only Ronon. Deyenne had been gone when John returned from the bathroom. He rather wondered where she was, but shook off the thought when Ronon jerked a thumb towards the door.

"I'm gonna go explore a bit before we leave," he stated.

"Don't go far," John warned, before trying to stifle another yawn.

Ronon shrugged at him then left.

John curled up on his side and let his eyes drift closed. He might as well sleep since everyone had abandoned him and, if he were honest with himself, he was tired. He knew the rest would do him good, especially if he wanted to leave this place under his own steam. And no way in hell was he going back through the gate being carried like a baby in Ronon's arms. John felt a flare of embarrassment remembering how easily Ronon had carried him before.

"John."

He stirred at the sound of his name, forcing his eyes open and blinking hard to bring Deyenne's face into focus. "Hey," he said softly. A part of him was going to miss her. A very small part. Although John was grateful to her and her brother. They wouldn't be alive without them.

Deyenne smiled at him, looking serene. "Come with me, John," she said. "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" He hadn't expected that and he found himself sitting up then sliding off the bed in search of his boots. "This won't take long, will it?" John knew Carson would read him the riot act if he didn't rest. John's own body was yelling at him as it was, wanting him to lie down again. He ignored it. He would go with Deyenne because he owed her that much.

"Come." Deyenne reached for his hand, her fingers wrapping tightly around his.

John felt a chill ripple over him at her touch and he had to fight the urge to pull away. After a moment, he felt the chill turn to a warmth that seeped through him and he found himself feeling less tired. He realized that it was Deyenne giving him the energy. "Thanks," John whispered.

She smiled at him and led him away. They walked down the hall, through a doorway, then climbed some stairs. They opened up to a landing and Deyenne guided John over to an arched doorway.

He stepped inside and saw a suite of rooms. There was an area that was set up like a livingroom, which opened up to a set of shallow steps and another doorway. It was through there that Deyenne led John and he stared at the richness of the room laid out before him. It was huge, with tapestried walls and a giant bed.

"You may bathe in here and I have laid out clothes for you, John." Deyenne looked almost luminous as she spoke.

"What's this all about?" John countered, unable to ignore a sudden stirring of suspicion.

Deyenne looked surprised at the question. "You have been ill and I thought the chance to refresh yourself would be welcome," she replied, sounding innocent enough.

John had to admit to himself that it was tempting. He stepped into the bathroom and studied the shower area. The thought of hotwater and soap and feeling clean and fresh suddenly overwhelmed him. "Thanks," he said to Deyenne. "I think I will wash up."

"I will leave you to it," she replied, drifting out of the room.

It didn't take John long to strip off his wrinkled, and rather stinky, uniform and step into the shower area. He touched the indented tiles on the wall and warm water rained down upon him. He touched another panel and it slid open to reveal a flat bar of what he assumed to be soap. It had a pleasant, almost musky, scent and he used it to scrub his hair and his body, rinsing off slowly as he let the hot water seep into his skin.

He didn't stay in too long though. He knew he needed to get back before someone missed him. So he turned off the water, stepped out and found what passed for towel and dried off. He then went into the bedroom area, after making sure Deyenne wasn't lurking around, and got dressed in the clean clothes that were laid out on the bed. No way in hell did he want to put his uniform back on. So John pulled on dark brown pants the clung to his legs but were suprisingly comfortable, and a long-sleeved, dark green, tunic like shirt. The fit was remarkable. It was if the clothing was made for him. Even the soft, suede like brown boots fit him perfectly.

"They were my fathers," Deyenne said, appearing before John without warning.

"Uh...oh," John replied, trying not to feel too creeped out about that. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Deyenne moved closer, her image becoming sharply focused. "You need not thank me, John," she replied. "They are yours now. As is everything here."

Her tone startled John more than her words. There was an edge of determination that cut through him like a knife. "Deyenne...I'm not sure what you mean." He wasn't sure he wanted to know either.

"You're home now, John," she said softly, her voice almost sing-song in rythmn. "All of you are home now."

Then she vanished in a red mist, leaving John staring at the emptiness she left behind.

Closing his eyes he let the bad feeling in his gut twist through him as he whispered, "Oh, shit."

THE END...of part 11