Thanks for the reviews, and for all of you who have stayed with the story. Thanks again to my fab beta shepsgirl72 - as always, all mistakes are mine.

COLLABORATIONS

CHAPTER 13

As Woolsey entered the conference room, he saw his relief mirrored on the faces of everyone around the table. There was none of the usual banter or arguments to interrupt, as everyone sat exhausted, quietly slumped into their seats. Weeks of caring for the needs of some 30,000 people rescued from the Wraith had been an onerous task, but nobody had minded the extra work, or the long hours away from their usual jobs. Everyone pleased the early warning system worked…happy to have saved so many lives.

Richard too was starting to feel the strain both emotionally and physically. After monitoring the system for days, it now appeared the Wraith had thankfully left their radar. So sitting down heavily on his worn leather chair, Woolsey called the meeting to order, because it was time to discuss plans for repatriating the thousands of refuges, and getting Atlantis back to normal. He didn't even want to think about the financial cost of the evacuation, or how many man hours it would take to put the Alpha site back to normal. After all, what price could you put on saving a life? Never mind thousands, which is what he was going to put into his report to the IOA…when he finally got around to it

"Good morning everyone. First off, I would like to convey my thanks to everyone on base for all their hard work over this trying time. It is down to your efforts, and the people under your command, so many lives have been saved and people cared for, so please, pass on my gratitude to the staff. A special thanks goes out to you, Teyla." Richard smiled over to the beautiful Athosian woman. "If you ever want a job in the diplomatic corps, I would happily give you a personal recommendation. It couldn't have been easy liaising with all the various communities living on the Alpha site, some of whom I believe were not on the best of terms. Word reached me from a number of sources, about how often you diffused some of the more difficult disputes, not to mention teaching the catering staff how to prepare some local delicacies to help our visitors feel at home. In fact, I am going to recommend to Mable she keeps some of the dishes on the menu, however I think we'll leave the tuttle root soup off for the time being…you can get too much of a good thing."

"Dr McKay, it is down to your early warning system so many lives have been saved, and in recognition of your sterling efforts, I am sending a recommendation to the IOA that you be awarded a commendation." Richard saw Rodney perk up from his slump, and the scientist's face go beet red. However, as Dr McKay was inclined to babble, he carried on quickly, without giving the brilliant man a chance to speak.

"Now, as much as we have enjoyed extending hospitality to our visitors, I think it's time for them to go home…don't you? Colonel Caldwell, would you be able to assist with the repatriation? There would be no rush this time, and not quite so many trips, as I am optimistic most people will be able to return through the 'gate. Nonetheless, I am keenly aware Atlantis has monopolised you for long enough, and I know you must be eager to return to your duties as soon as possible."

"Certainly, Mr Woolsey. The Daedalus is always happy to help, but surely I'm going to be needed here for some time, at least until we know the status on Colonel Sheppard?"

In his peripheral vision, Woolsey saw SGA's first team suddenly become agitated.

"Ah, yes, that brings me to the next item on the agenda." He smiled over to Rodney. "It's high time we started our search for Colonel Sheppard, don't you think? Dr McKay, you have a go. And, Major Lorne, would you please accompany the team? I have already asked Doctor Beckett to meet you in the jumper bay." Richard saw the relieved faces of Sheppard's team smiling at him. "Well…what are you people waiting for? Go bring him home."

ooooOoooo

Frama saw the soft rise and fall of John's chest, felt the thready whisper of his pulse, too shallow, too fast, and knew it wouldn't be the Wraith, but blood loss that would take his young friend's life. He'd used all his skill to help him, but knew without proper medical care soon, Sheppard would surely die. The old monk had seen too much death over the years, too many young men taken well before their time, and would willingly swop places with the pale, gaunt figure lying on the ground, if only he could.

As the darkness of night gave way to the pale golden hues of the early dawn, in the distance the old monk heard the unmistakable sound of the ring burst into life. In his mind's eye, he could see the faces of every young man who had given their lives over the years, and the men today, who were right now waiting in the fields prepared to meet the same fate. Frama mourned them all, regretted each life lost, and part of him although anxious about the pain to come, was none the less ready to meet them again on the other side.

He squinted as the bright morning sun blinded him, obscuring his vision. Even so, the old monk could still make out a tall imposing figure striding towards him, and rose ready to meet the Wraith, prepared to die. Except now, there would be no quick, easy submission to his inevitable fate. For as long as John still had a breath left in his body, he was determined to defend him as long as possible, to spare the young man yet more needless pain, and give him the chance to die in peace.

Over the years Brother Frama had met many Wraith. All were large, tall formidable beings but none of them ever looked like the two short stocky men who were running towards him, along with... a woman?

ooooOoooo

"It's Sheppard alright…or what's left of him. Carson…would you move your fat ass and get over here!"

Rodney, suddenly aware that Sheppard was not alone, apologised. "Hi, sorry, didn't mean to be rude. I'm Dr McKay, a friend of John's…not a medical doctor…although I do have more degrees than him…"

Carson ignored the jibe, too anxious to attend his patient and friend. "Out of my way, Rodney. I need to see what the Colonel's done to himself this time. Teyla, love. Keep the pressure on that wound, and Ronon…run back to the jumper, quick as you can, and bring back Lorne with the stretcher."

Beckett saw the makeshift bandage, and guessed the old man must have helped Sheppard. "Now sir, you obviously have been caring for our friend, and I thank you for that. But I need to know what his injuries are, how long ago they happened, and what action has been taken to help him."

Even as Frama talked, Beckett set up two large bore IV's, one filled with plasma, the other with a saline solution, all the while checking his friend's vitals, concerned at the weak pulse, pallid complexion and warm clammy feel of John's skin. As he placed a field bandage firmly around the gun shot wound, Carson turned to see Ronon and Lorne coming with the stretcher, thankful they'd been so quick, because if they didn't get the Colonel home very soon…Sheppard wasn't going to make it.

"Good, lads. Put it down over there…Teyla, would you hand me your bottled water please."

"This is no time for a drink, Carson…"

Ignoring Rodney, Beckett pulled out an emergency blanket, soaked it thoroughly and lay it down on the canvas stretcher, before raising John just enough to cut the habit and carefully remove it from his body.

"What the hell are you doing now, Beckett? Do you want the man to die his death of col…What the hell…not again. And are those burns?" Rodney's face paled, shocked at the sight of John's back.

Carson had been a doctor for many years, and it was him along with Dr Keller, who'd literally patched up John after he was brutally whipped by Kolya over a year ago. However, the faint scars left from that surgery could no longer be seen as the colonel's back was mutilated by a mass of lacerations, some cuts in straight, firm lines…probably caused by a sharp knife. The others, deeper, torn and ragged, obviously as a result of yet another sound thrashing from a whip. What kind of implement was used this time though, defied belief.

Beckett knew most whips were made of leather or cord, but whatever had been used on John, must have been red hot. Since inside the raw, ripped lacerations, the skin was burnt…cauterised, along with less serious burns on the rest of his back. It would be impossible to tell how far down the dermis was damaged until John went under a scanner. The first rule of triage was paramount, however. Deal with the primary injury first…blood loss, because if he didn't get the bleeding stopped soon, the other injuries would be irrelevant.

Ronon, walked over to check the Wraith was no longer a threat, and stopped when he saw a dead man with a livid feeding mark and bullet wound, both visible on his chest. "Is that Kolya?" Ronon turned to ask the stranger.

Frama looked up at the large man, exhaustion and shock showing in his face. "Yes…it is."

"Good...glad he's dead. At least Sheppard managed to take him out."

The old man shook his head sadly. "I don't think your friend sees it that way. Mr Kolya tricked him into taking his life by using me as bait. John was angry at himself for being…'played' as he called it. So please, when he recovers, it would be wise not to say too much about it."

"Ronon. Come over here, son…you too, Major. Now on my count, gently lift the colonel onto the stretcher. And please…be careful of his back. One…two, easy now…Good." Carson checked to make sure the IV's were still attached, and signalled the men to move out. "Let's get him back to the jumper as quickly, but gently, as possible before those bloody Wraith come."

Teyla knew John was unconscious and probably wouldn't hear her, but she took his limp hand in hers anyway.

"We came for you, John… so you must hang on, it won't be long now until we get you home…to Atlantis."

ooooOoooo

All of the team stood, feeling helpless, as they struggled to see their friend who was hidden by monitors, a pale, frail looking figure lying unconscious in isolation.

Keller saw their distress, knew how much they wanted to be there with him, and felt their pain. Nodding to Carson as he settled Sheppard into the specialist unit, Jennifer walked over to the door, disposed of her hat, gown, gloves and mask, before finally entering the main ward.

Going over to her friends, she stood with them as they continued to stare at Sheppard through the glass, before starting to speak.

"I know this looks pretty bad, but it's really only a precaution you know." Jennifer smiled at them all.

"Okay, how about I tell you how the surgery went first, huh? Well…the bullet nicked an artery, but for once it was a blessing it didn't go straight through, as it's presence slowed down the bleeding…otherwise Colonel Sheppard would have died. We removed it, repaired the damage without too many problems, and have replaced most of the blood lost. This," Keller motioned to the isolation unit, "is because of the risk of infection due to the burns, which has been exacerbated, by a stubborn infection caused by one of the knife wounds inflicted upon him earlier."

"Wha…you mean to tell me those sadistic sons of bitches tore him apart with a knife, before whipping him! What kind of religious order would do something like that?"

"The Wraith worshipping kind, Rodney." Teyla replied, only too aware of what these people were capable of after speaking to Frama.

Jennifer nodded. "Teyla's correct, Rodney. But who did it, or why, isn't our priority, our concern is to get him well again. Anyway, to get back to why we have Colonel Sheppard in isolation. The burns themselves vary between first and second decree, so while they will cause a lot of pain, Carson and I are hopeful, he will be able to recover without the need for skin grafts…however, only time will tell. In the meantime, we are pumping him full of broad spectrum antibiotics, as well as keeping him in a sterile environment to give him the best chance of making a quick recovery. I know you all want to be with him, and you can be…but only one at a time, and you must wear protective clothing…okay? So who wants to go in first?"

ooooOoooo

His blurred vision started to come into focus, just as every part of his body screamed in pain. John heard the monitors go wild as he shuddered, struggling to breathe…barely able to hear through the roaring sound of blood rushing through his ears.

"Easy, easy, Colonel...that's it…just give this a few minutes, and the pain will start to ease."

"Ca…sn?"

A pair of familiar blue eyes smiled at him, the only thing visible on the masked face. "You're doing just fine, Colonel, all this." Beckett waved his hands around himself and the room, "is because of the burns. You came in already carrying an infection, so we need to keep you in a sterile environment. But we have it under control, so close your eyes, because sleep is the best medicine for you right now."

Suddenly, another figure appeared in his peripheral vision. "Can't I even get to say hello, Beckett? I mean…I've only been sitting here, bored out my mind for four hours! Do you know, Sheppard, he won't even let me have my laptop? Pleassse…I would have cleaned it…but no…So what am I doing waiting for you to wake up…nothing. Unless of course you count working out the next six month staff rotas in my head…"

"Hi…R...ny." John gave his friend a tired half smile, barely visible though the oxygen mask.

"Hi, yourself, Sheppard. Go on then, get back to sleep…I needed to do those staff rotas anyway. C'mon, close your eyes" And as he saw his friend's eyelids close, he added. "It's good to have you back, John."

In the day's ahead, John was vaguely aware of people coming and going, but he never stayed awake for long. It was sometimes hard to identify some of the people hidden under their masks, but he always recognised his team instantly. Ronon's dark brooding eyes, scanning the area, always looking out for him. Teyla's beautiful brown ones, filled with concern as she mopped his brow and helped him choke down some broth. And of course, Rodney's blue eyes, which just like the man himself, never stayed at peace, always darting about looking for something to do, even if it was just counting the tiles covering the floor.

Sheppard knew he must be starting to recover when the pain level started to increase. A reduction in meds meant Beckett thought he could cope with the additional discomfort…which he could, but his leg throbbed like crazy, and his back hurt like a bitch. It was good, though, to have the fuzzy, cotton wool feeling gone from his brain, and be able to stay awake for more that a few minutes at time, as he was anxious to catch up with everything he'd missed…if only Carson would let him.

There was only one snag about being more lucid, because the more he alert he became, the more he remembered about his last encounter with Kolya, and the angrier he got about being used. He kept thinking about Nessan's last words to him. 'You're too weak, too compassionate for a solder, John. Don't let it be your downfall." After everything Nessan had done to him, he still would have been willing to take him back to Atlantis for treatment, but only because he thought the Genii was going to kill Frama…so what choice did he have? But the bastard tricked him, pushing the monk away at the last second, making sure he took a kill shot, ending his life… John ran through the conversation over and over again. He didn't regret killing Nessan, how could he? The man had tortured him, stolen his identity and engineered his vicious whipping just to serve his own ends…but, when it came right down to it, he only took Kolya's life when the old monk was in danger. So, what did that say about him…would he ever have killed the Genii otherwise? Had he really gone soft over the years? Maybe Nessan was right…If that was the case, was he fit to be a solider…let along be commander of a base responsible for the lives of everyone here? Closing his eyes against the pounding in his head, John just didn't know anymore…

ooooOoooo

"I know your back itches, Colonel, but if you scratch you'll break the blisters then it's back to isolation with you…do you really want that? Teyla, would you tell this man to leave his back alone?" Beckett looked at the beautiful woman, exasperated.

Teyla strolled over to the bed, and at the last minute pulled out a pair of bright, yellow knitted woollen mittens. "I have brought you a present, John…Well, what do you think?"

John sighed. "Okay, you win, Carson. I think I'll manage not to scratch…No offense, Teyla, but I don't really think yellow is my colour."

Teyla sat down and smiled at him, but barely got an acknowledgement in return. "What's wrong, John. I thought you would be happy to be in the main ward, where you can have as many visitors as you like."

"I am…Sorry, Telya. I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but this itch is driving me crazy, so I'm not very good company at the moment. In fact, I'm feeling kinda tired…would you mind if I took a nap?"

The Athosian looked over at Carson, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, John. You are still healing, I'll be back to see you later."

Without even a wave, John closed his eyes, feigning sleep. Teyla looked back concerned, then went into the office to speak to Beckett.

"What's wrong with him, Carson? I can see he is recovering physically, but why is he shutting everyone out. Rodney came to see me earlier today…he was most upset when John practically ignored him, while he tried to tell him all the gossip."

"I know, love," Beckett sighed. "I've tried getting him to talk to the new psychiatrist, but you can imagine how that went. Woolsey even came by and congratulated him on his part in promoting the early warning system. When he told him how many people were saved, John did seem to perk up for a minute or so…then just seemed to zone out again. I'm running out of options as to what to do next. The Colonel is showing all the classic signs of depression, which is not unusual considering everything he's been through, but it's just not like him to be so down, and I don't really want to start him on medication until I've tried everything else."

"Leave it with me, Dr Beckett…I may have an idea." Teyla's eyes lit up, then she smiled at the Scot before walking away

ooooOoooo

"Dear Mr Woolsey,

After giving the matter much consideration, it is with regret I would like to tender my resignation as Military Commander of Atlantis along with my commission in the Air force."

"Hello, John. Am I interrupting something, I can come back later if you wish?"

Sheppard snapped the laptop shut, and turned to meet the owner of the familiar voice. "Brother Frama. I thought…"

The old man smiled. "It's just Frama now. Well as you know, John, I did intend to stay on the planet, but your friends were quite insistent I came back with them. Besides, I was worried about you. Anyway, once we knew you were out of danger, the young woman Teyla introduced me to Halling, and now I am helping tutor the children on the mainland. So, it seems the Ancestors had other plans for me after all. But enough of me, how are you feeling?"

"It only hurts when I move." John smiled, happy to see his old friend alive and well.

"I'm sure it does, but you are looking better…except, if you don't me saying, so, you look tired…haunted even. This would be about Mr Kolya, I suppose? Excuse an old man for prying, but once a monk…always a monk."

John turned to him with tears glistening in his eyes. "I used to be so sure of myself, Father. Even stood up to my superiors, my father…if I thought I was right. But I realise now, despite everything Kolya did to me, I still wouldn't have killed him unless I had to. Does that make me weak…does it? And he tricked me; the bastard actually tricked me into getting what he wanted. How dare he do that…"

Frama saw Sheppard's tears start to flow, and he got up and pulled around the curtains to keep prying eyes away.

"He was right, you know. I am too compassionate, too weak to be a soldier…to protect my people. And I'm not going to endanger my friends just because I've gone soft, so, I've decided to quit…go home, and find something else to do with my life…something suitable for a guy with too much compassion."

"Are you quite finished feeling sorry for yourself?"

John stared back at Frama, surprised at the rebuke.

"Nessan Kolya was an evil man, who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. Yes, he used you, but think about it, John, he didn't want to carry on living the way he was, yet, he didn't have the courage to take his own life. Consider this, too; why did he want to take your identity? No one in the monastery knew who either of you were, or cared for that matter. But he wanted to become you…why? I'll tell you. Nessan may have hated you, John, but he admired you, too…what you stood for, the courage you possess. Because only someone with courage like yours could have withstood everything he put you through and still kept your humanity…something I think he lost many years ago. If you care to hear the opinion of an old man, I think you brought out the best in him. When he cared for you, I could see it wasn't all down to self interest. Probably for the first time in his adult life, I think he wanted to do the best he could for someone. However, as he lay dying, he just couldn't help himself…he'd learned your weakness, you do have a good heart…and he tried to use it against you. But, please, John…don't let him win. I, too, remember his last words 'I was a fool to think I could ever take your place.' Now, are those the words of a man who thought you were weak?"

The old man saw a veil lift from John's eyes. "You're tired, John. But before you sleep, think on what I've said…don't do anything rash...don't let him win."

Sheppard scrubbed his hand across his face, wiping away his tears. He felt drained after the conversation, yet better than he'd felt since coming home. Frama was right, Nessan had played him, but in a way he couldn't really blame the man. He remembered when he was fed on, the horrific pain, worse than any other he'd ever experienced…and the demoralising effect of losing decades in just a few moments. Todd had saved him from that, given him back his youth, but even if he hadn't, would he have wanted to die? Probably not, because unlike Kolya, he would have spent his last days being cared for by his friends...his family. Nessan was a broken man, right from childhood, and Sheppard now doubted he could have changed, regardless of how many fresh starts he got. The fact that even while dying Nessan still wanted to carry on torturing him, proved it.

John opened the laptop, saw the letter on the screen and pressed delete. He really felt like crap…but knew the feeling would pass, and he would eventually recover. Like Nessan, his life hadn't always been easy, but he'd made the best of his opportunities, and had learned to forgive his father, in the long run, managing to put all the bad stuff behind him. These days John enjoyed a good life. He had a home, friends and people who cared for him…something Nessan never had, and while he felt sorry for the young, abused Genii boy, he felt nothing, not even hatred, for the evil man whose life he took. Just glad Kolya was dead, never to bother him again...John closed his eyes and knew he would sleep soundly, for the first time in days...free from regret or any remorse. So in the end Nessan had him pegged all wrong...he really wasn't that nice a guy after all…

THE END

Hope you enjoyed the story, and I would really appreciate the feedback. So please review, as I like to know what you, the reader's like (or) don't, plus, it give me the encouragement to keep writing...Thanks, Joanie