I am so very sorry it's taken me so long to update! I had several RL issues pile up on me all at once (The bright spot was the Vancouver Stargate convention.. SQUEEE! ) including losing my job, getting a new one, getting sick and fighting a nasty sinus infection. Good grief, it never rains but pours… ;)

Anyway, here's an update, I'm going to try my best to update regularly again:D Enjoy!

It was irrational… and it annoyed the hell out of him.

Rodney ground his teeth and started harder at the data pad as if, somehow, his intense gaze could drive the distractions from his head and let him concentrate. Fat chance! Rodney sighed and found himself looking over his shoulder and down the short hallway towards Atlantis' infirmary. Damn it, Sheppard! You're a pain in the ass even when you're not trying to be! Worry diffused Rodney's irritation; more worry than he'd ever admit to anyone and to his surprise, more worry than he'd even admit to himself. Three years of the colonel's life were missing; three years of hell, heaven and everything in between. Three years of…

Friendship.

Alone, Rodney let his defensive mask fall as worry and pain creased his brow.

His constant companion, science had been his best friend as long as he could remember. He didn't do well with people, mostly because he had little tolerance for most people's unending stupidity. But somehow the quirky Air Force officer had grown on him. Sometimes, Sheppard was like a rash he couldn't itch, but Rodney had to admit that most of the time, he found himself liking Sheppard's company; in an annoying, smartass and often infuriating way.

Deep inside, Rodney cherished the last three years, in spite of more near death experiences than he cared to admit. Oddly enough, in Sheppard he'd found one hell of a loyal friend; and in Rodney's life, he'd had precious few of those.

"Of all the people…" Rodney muttered. Even now, he still wondered how Sheppard, of all people, would fill that role. Not religious in any way, Rodney still found himself wondering sometimes about God's sense of humor.

His thoughts came full circle. He loathed losing the last three years and he had to admit, part of what drove him was pure selfishness. He wanted Sheppard back, not only for the Colonel's good, but for his as well.

Like a bad horror movie, the events of their last off-world mission still plagued Rodney. Silently, he was grateful of his reputation for functioning with little or no sleep; no one noticed the long hours he spent in his lab, if only to keep from being woken by nightmares of loud explosions, gunfire… blood…

"Oh excuse me for not being an aficionado of the man!" Rodney snapped as he glared at the back of Sheppard's head and stalked through the short grass.

"Aficionado or not, I can't believe you've never heard any of his music!" John looked over his shoulder and graced Rodney with a disbelieving look. "The man is an icon. Hell, the man is THE icon!"

Rodney stopped his shoulders sagging as his irritation redoubled. "Just because I don't listen to his music, doesn't mean I haven't heard his stuff! Yet, somehow, I can't seem to accept that in all of musical history, Johnny Cash is the ultimate icon, although I can't imagine why. After all, you're only comparing him to musicians like Bach, Beethoven, Mozart…" His voice trailed off as Sheppard glared coldly at him.

"I've never heard of him," Ronon interjected.

"Nor have I," Teyla added.

"You two are from a different galaxy," John answered never looking away from Rodney. "What's your excuse, McKay?"

"I suppose if I answer with 'I prefer real music,' I'll get shot?" Rodney snapped.

John's gaze narrowed in dark humor. "Definitely."

"Right," Rodney sighed. He glanced down at his life signs detector, his gaze widening slightly. "Hello…"

"What?" Sheppard immediately answered and Rodney could hear the Colonel's footsteps move closer.

Rodney looked up. The colonel's face was devoid of any humor. "Two life signs, coming our direction."

"Rodney?"

Rodney flinched and barely kept from dropping his data pad as Carson's voice startled him from his memories. "What?" He snapped. He turned and glared at the doctor.

Carson's expression was slightly concerned as he took one step towards Rodney. "You seemed a million miles away," he answered quietly. "Are ye all right?"

"Fine," Rodney immediately answered as he turned away, hopefully hiding the slight red tinge he could feel on his checks. "Just thinking." He waved a hand behind him and absently at Carson. "Shouldn't you be doing something for Sheppard?"

"Like what?" Carson answered quietly.

Rodney's shoulders sagged. "I don't know! I'm not the medical voodoo man here! That's your department." Rodney scrutinized the control panel on the scanner for a minute before tapping a control key, all the while pretending not to hear Carson's slightly frustrated sigh.

"Colonel Sheppard is sleeping right now. Probably the best thing for him at this stage."

Rodney turned around as the silence between them lingered. Holding onto his defensive mask, Rodney none the less narrowed his gaze slightly at the hints of frustration that marked Carson's expression. "Sleeping. Huh."

"Aye." Carson pursed his lips. "Any recovery is going to be slow going, Rodney. I won't lie to ye. It'll be a long time before he's anywhere near being the man we knew."

"Is he even…" Rodney caught himself and bit off the rest of his question. He looked away from Carson's intense gaze. After a moment, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"He's still John Sheppard." Carson reassured quietly.

Rodney slowly looked up. Understanding and even what he'd call wisdom radiated in Carson's expression.

"Just be his friend, Rodney… and he'll still be yours."

Rodney was silent for a moment; knowing that his mask had fallen, knowing that Carson saw his vulnerabilities… and for an instant, he didn't care.

Hastily he cleared his throat and backed away from Carson's hand. "Yes, well, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather NOT have to break Sheppard in again, so if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Rodney turned back to the scanner.

"Made any progress?" Carson asked.

Rodney sighed. "Considering I just got started, no, but I will figure this out."

"Rodney, we don't know for sure the scanner does anything more than scan a patient," Carson replied.

Rodney glared at his data pad as if he was daring it to defy him. "Carson, we've seen the references in the database about devices like this having healing technology. You of all people should recognize how far advanced the Ancient's medical knowledge and technology was."

Carson walked up next to him and stared down at the scanner. "None of that proves that this device," he tapped the casket-like cover gently, "has any other function besides as a scanner."

"It does." Rodney's reply was short. He plastered a determined and confident look on his face and looked at Carson. He held onto his confidence as Carson's expression turned placating, with a touch of resigned agreement.

"Aye. I'll leave you to it then."

Rodney returned his attention to his data pad as he heard Carson walk away. Rationally, he knew Carson had a point; they didn't know, not for sure, that this scanner had any healing properties at all. Yet, somehow, Rodney had convinced himself that it did… and somehow he just knew he was right. He shook his head at the irony of it all.

Science was his life. The ins and outs of theories and facts and the thirst for knowledge had driven him as long as he could remember. Follow the facts to the logical conclusion. His life was based on that. Yet, as he stared at the Ancient device, he realized it was his gut, more than anything that was driving him. His theory was sound. There were just too many vague hints and scraps of information in the massive Ancient database about scanning and healing for him to just dismiss it as coincidence, but all he had at this point was his gut. Sheppard's rubbing off on me…

Rodney sighed and carefully set his data pad on the dome shaped cover of the scanner and walked down the short hallway towards the infirmary ward. He stopped in the doorway and stared at the curtain covered corner where Sheppard was resting in privacy. He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. What would he say? Sheppard wouldn't know him, Rodney knew that for certain. What do you talk about with a man who can't remember you or anything from the last three years of his life, which just happened to be the entire duration of your friendship with him? I really suck at this personal crap… Rodney sighed again. He took small consolation in the fact that Sheppard was probably sleeping; in which case, he wouldn't have to worry about saying a word. The thought gave him courage and he crossed the infirmary.

He stopped again as he reached the curtain. Taking a deep breath he slowly pulled the curtain back and stepped into the secluded area. His eyes never left Sheppard as he pulled the curtain closed behind him. A thick bandage swathed the colonel's head and he was unsettlingly still. Rodney's eyes unconsciously found Sheppard's chest and he watched for a moment, comforted by the slow rise and fall of the Colonel's breathing. The steady beep of the monitor over Sheppard's head could've told Rodney as much, but somehow he found reassurance in seeing, for himself, the life in his friend's body.

He slowly walked up to the bed and stared down at Sheppard's sleeping form. "Always the hero," he muttered. How many times had Sheppard pulled their asses from the fire? He'd saved them from everything from an insane Genii commander to a microscopic nanovirus. Rodney's gaze narrowed in determination. This time, the hero needed saving, and he'd be damned if he'd let Sheppard down.

--------------------------

John held tightly to the stick, forcing the copter to comply; to side with him in what felt like a battle of wills he fought with the shearing winds. His grip tightened when a strong gust blasted them and the copter dipped and he swallowed hard, feeling like he was pushing his stomach back down his throat.

"You sure this was a good idea?" Edwards asked, his voice tinged with dark humor.

From the corner of his eye, John could see Edward's grip on the edge of his control panel. In spite of the gloves, John had no doubt the lieutenant's hold was white knuckled to say the least. "Sounded like a good idea at the time," John answered tensely.

"And now?"

John abruptly grabbed the stick with both hands as a particularly nasty crosswind buffeted the chopper. "Ask me that later." He barely heard Edward's quiet snort. His gaze narrowed as he tried in vain to see through the near white out conditions, only made worse by the growing darkness. "Damn the days are short," he muttered.

"Give it a month and we won't have any daylight at all," Edwards answered. "You sure we're on their flight path?"

John grimaced before answering. "Sure," his voice cracked slightly.

"You're not giving me any confidence, buddy," Edwards muttered. "Are we even close?"

"Close?" John wrestled the stick again. "Define… close."

"Great," Edwards muttered. "How far off are we?"

"Define far," John answered quietly.

"Aw, hell!"

John could feel Edward's glare on the side of his face, but he refused to look at the lieutenant as he fought darkly amused smile. If they weren't in danger of dying in this god forsaken storm, the situation he found himself in might have actually been funny. "Anything?" John risked a glance at his cohort in insanity and waved his hand briefly at the console.

Edwards tapped a couple buttons on the console. "Maybe…" His voice trailed off in a whoop of joy.

Caught off guard, John flinched before refocusing his attention on keeping them from getting killed. "That's a yes?"

"Hot damn!" Edward clapped once, his hands muffled by gloves. "It's their locator beacon! Coordinates coming your way."

This time, the smile that tugged at John's mouth had nothing to do with dark cynicism and he let the grin into his expression. He adjusted his heading and continued looking around, searching for the downed helicopter.

"Not that I mean to be a killjoy," Edwards said quietly as he too searched, "but they've been out here for a long time. If they were injured badly…" his voice trailed off.

"They're alive," John said with more confidence then the situation warranted.

"Right."

John glanced at his friend as they each exchanged knowing looks, though neither one of them said a word. He looked away, his eyes widening. "There!" he pointed, as a dark mound suddenly appeared through the driving snow. He slapped the radio button. "Flight 2-1 this is Flight 6 do you copy?" Tensely, John watched as the undistinguishable mound turned into the wreckage of a helicopter as he flew closer. "Captain Stiles this is Major Sheppard. Respond." He shook his head. "Damn it."

"Their radio could just be down," Edwards offered. A low whistle escaped him as he shook his head at the wreckage. "Took a hell of a beating…"

"Yeah," John muttered. He switched radio frequencies. "McMurdo base, this is flight 6. We've located flight 2-1. Repeat. We've located flight 2-1." Through the static he could just barely make out a reply.

"…Sheppard…where… alive?"

John glanced at Edwards who shook his head slightly.

"Is that Hays?"

John nodded. Part of him was surprised the Colonel was right there waiting to hear from them, but a larger part of him wasn't. "Gonna set down as close as we can. Hold on, this is going to be rough."

---------------------------

At first Rodney didn't really notice. It was just a glimmer of movement; a hint of consciousness; nothing definite, nothing showing that Sheppard was waking up. But, it didn't last. "Colonel?" Rodney stepped closer to the bed as Sheppard moved weakly.

"Hold on…" Sheppard's mutter was barely above a whisper. "Rough…"

Rodney swallowed hard and looked around uncertainly, "why me?" His voice was tinged with the worry he felt.

"Okay… alive… have to be…" Sheppard's body tensed as his head moved back and forth on the pillow.

Rodney turned and whipped back the curtain, looking for someone to help. His eyes scanned the empty infirmary. "Oh, that's just great. Where is everyone?" he muttered before raising his voice. "Hello? Need some help here." He turned back to the bed and took a deep breath, before gently squeezing Sheppard's shoulder. "Colonel, wake up. Colonel."

Sheppard's eyes snapped open and his body tensed as he pulled in a sharp breath.

Rodney snatched his hand back and stared at the blank look in the Colonel's eyes.

Sheppard's eyelids slid shut as his brow pinched and he grimaced.

"Are you okay?" Rodney edged closer to the colonel's bed. "Do you need Carson?"

"No… 'm okay," Sheppard muttered before he opened his eyes.

It was all Rodney could do not to flinch or look away as he stared into confused hazel eyes that met his. Gone was the recognition, the familiarity… the friendship that he'd grown so accustomed to. He hastily cleared his throat. "Rodney McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay."

Sheppard licked his lips and looked away. "I should know you, shouldn't I?" While his words were a question, his tone of voice wasn't. "You were here when I woke up…"

Rodney fidgeted and absently scratched his chest. "Yes, well… yes. We were… are friends." He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, as Sheppard continued to look away. The silence was uncomfortable and Rodney searched for a way to break it. A small voice inside urged him to just turn and leave, but refused to consider it. "Look uh…" Rodney grimaced and scratched his head. "I know you don't remember me and that's well… you know, okay." He fell silent and forced his fidgeting body to stillness as Sheppard carefully turned his head and looked at him.

Slowly, a smile gradually turned up the corners of Sheppard's mouth, if only slightly. "Thanks," he whispered.

Rodney didn't know what to say. Faced with the gratitude he saw in Sheppard's face, words escaped him. Instead, he returned Sheppard's smile with a genuine one of his own.

"Everything all right in here?"

For the second time that afternoon, Carson's voice startled Rodney. Going to get him a cowbell! "Fine!" Rodney snapped, with a bit more edge than he intended, "do you practice sneaking up on people and scaring the living daylights out of them?"

"It's a talent," Carson quipped as he walked up to Sheppard's bed. "You did call for some help."

"Oh yes," Rodney answered, "and in your own impeccable timing, you're, of course, late so I handled things myself."

If Carson had a reply, he chose not to voice it. Instead he smiled at Sheppard. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Tired," Sheppard answered. "Am I going to sleep my life away?"

Carson chuckled. "For now, yes. You've got a lot of healing to do."

Rodney's gaze narrowed as a dark shadow flashed over Sheppard's face.

"Yeah," Sheppard whispered. "Lots of healing…"

Carson's expression turned understanding as he stepped back and looked at Rodney. "Don't stay long. Colonel Sheppard needs his rest." Passing Rodney, Carson pulled the curtain shut behind him.

Not able to contain his fidgeting, Rodney looked everywhere in the makeshift room, except at Sheppard. The silence between them lingered before Sheppard broke it.

"You don't have to stay."

Sheppard's quiet offer snapped Rodney from his selfish discomfort. He was Sheppard's friend, damn it, he needed to start acting like it! He looked directly at the colonel. "I uh… oh, that's okay, I could use a break really." He backed up a step and sat down in the chair next to Sheppard's bed. He watched as the colonel looked down at his blanket and absently fingered the seam.

"We're friends, aren't we?" Sheppard asked softly.

Rodney sighed. "You could say that, yes. Although sometimes you infuriate the hell out of me…" his voice trailed off, but he found it again when Sheppard smiled slightly. "But then again, I know you've wanted to shoot me more than once, so I guess we're even. So, friends? Uhh… yeah, I think."

Sheppard's smile lingered. "Sounds like my kind of friendship. Keeps things interesting."

"Yeah, well sometimes I think I'm just a glutton for punishment," Rodney answered. He squinted slightly as Sheppard arched an amused brow at him and, for a moment, Rodney saw the Sheppard he knew peeking out from behind the mask of uncertain confusion the colonel silently wore. As quick as it appeared, the normalcy was gone.

"Wish I remembered," Sheppard whispered.

"You will." The words left Rodney's mouth before he even had a chance to think, but he contained his surprise and held onto the confident air that seemed to follow his statement. After a moment, he slapped his thighs and stood. "Well, it's not my idea of fun to endure a Carson Beckett lecture, so I'll leave you to rest. Besides, I have work to do."

"Right."

Rodney heard the resigned tone in Sheppard's voice and bit back his own frustration. He knew the Colonel chafed at the inactivity, at being so weak and most of all at not remembering so much of his recent life. The frustration within Rodney grew as his thoughts refocused on the Ancient scanner. "Look uh, I'll come back later," Rodney found a small smile.

"Sure." Sheppard closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Rodney resisted the urge to whip the curtain shut behind him. He stalked across the infirmary and headed back towards his work. There had to be a way to help Sheppard and he, Rodney McKay, would find it.