John opened his eyes to dark blue, to indigo-tinged metallic walls and columns. To windows filled with bubbling, silvery water. The air smelled like iron, brine and the ozone of incipient thunderstorms. He recognized this smell. It smelled like home, yet this wasn't home. Was it?

He stumbled forward a few steps, his boots slogging and pulling and then he was suddenly on his knees. Water splashed around him, soaking him up to his lower thighs. His head swam, his eyes burned, and he had to put his hands down in the murky water to steady himself. He looked up, and the room was dark, so dark, and it was so cold. He was tired of being cold. He shivered and then something whirred and warm air began to waft in around him.

Water splashed as someone shuffled beside him. The old woman. Tosia, he reminded himself. She sloshed through the water, moving in slow circles around him, gazing all about, tears streaming down her face. "It is all still here," she whispered. "It is still here after all these years. Just as I left it."

John watched her as he struggled to his feet. He had to squint to see her in the gloom, and then their surroundings suddenly became a little brighter, fading from navy to deep cyan.

Tosia stumbled to the window, placed her hands on its cool surface and looked up, watching the bubbles as they made their endless way to the surface. "The city still sleeps, John. After so many years, it sleeps on and on."

John blinked at her, trying to focus on her voice, and all at once, her words broke through. He shook his head, because they weren't right. She wasn't right, she couldn't be right… He waded over to her. He looked through the window at the watery world it held back. Through the wash of bubbles he saw creatures swimming by, angling, zigzagging alongside the window with careless abandon.

No, no… he thought, a pang of fear rushing through him, it's not supposed to be like this…

The voices, as always, clamored for his attention, but he ignored them. The interminable faces trapped in his mind appeared to swirl and twist in the water, screaming at him, mocking him, but John turned away from them. He didn't want to look at them anymore. Instead, he gazed around the unfamiliar room.

No, this was not right, at all… This place wasn't right. This place filled with stacks and stacks of moldering papers, with objects that bobbed and floated around him like dead things. With long dormant, black-faced monitors that sat upon desks, shelves that were laden to almost overflowing with vials, boxes, tablets and books that had toppled and spilled over. The transporter doors had slid shut, and it was dark, cold and uninviting. He shivered again, tucking his sodden hands under his arms.

Then he noticed a door at the opposite end of the room. He rushed to it as fast as the knee-deep water would allow. He willed the door to open, but it didn't budge. Beside it, a small panel lit up and made a soft chirping noise. He scowled and pressed his hand on it. The panel beeped at him again, but the door refused to move. He punched the panel, hard, wincing at the flare of pain in his knuckles and fingers.

A slow panic began to build in his chest. He wanted out of here. He'd only wanted to go home, and home had to still be here somewhere. It had to be. He had to see…

Tosia was beside him all of a sudden. "It needs a combination, John."

He ignored her and pressed his hand down harder, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain, but the door still wouldn't open. Tosia tried to pull his hand away, but he wouldn't let her. He had to get out of here.

"John, let me show you!"

John could only growl a wordless protest. All he wanted was out, out, out of here. Out of this room. He didn't like this place. It was so terribly familiar and not familiar all at the same time. Voices whispered all around him shush, shush, shushing… so soft and so urgent, but he couldn't understand the words and he wanted out!

With a yell that echoed around them, he slammed his shoulder against the door. It didn't budge, and he pounded his hands wildly against it. The sharp pain that spiked from his fingertips all the way up to his shoulders made him cry out, but he didn't stop battering the hard metal, he had to get out of here…

"John!" Tosia shouted. She tugged on his arms. "Listen to me, John. Listen. Shh. It is all right."

Despite the stabbing pain in his hands, and the urgent need to leave this sunken, sleeping room right now, John forced himself to hear her. He clung to the slick metal of the door and leant his cheek against it. The metal cooled his fevered skin, and he turned his head to look at her, blinking back the tears of frustration that obscured his vision.

"That's it," she said in that calming, soothing voice. "Everything is all right. I know this room. I know it so very well, and there is nothing here that can harm us," she told him, smiling, and finally, her voice broke through, loud and clear. He took a deep, shuddery breath and listened to the sound of her voice, to her softly reassuring words. "John, the door will likely not work for me, but I do think it will for you, if you let me show you how to open it. Can you do that? Will you allow me to take your hand now?"

He stared into her eyes, breathing hard and then nodded. He mutely held out his hand for her. She smiled again and took it, gently closing her fingers around the sodden bandages. Raising his hand, she clasped his index finger, moved it to one button, pushed, then another and another and pressed his hand flat. The door obediently opened. Water rushed out into the hallway like a small river.

John darted out before the door could change its mind and close again. Tosia kept firm hold of his hand, stumbling behind him. He forced himself to slow his steps to match her pace. The hallway was still, dark, empty and quiet, save for the dripping sounds, the humming sounds and the voices that still whispered incessantly to him.

Then the one voice that sometimes spoke to him broke through, the one that sounded so maddeningly familiar. It told him to go up, go higher, John, go up, up. He didn't know what that meant, but he listened all the same. He headed down the hall, all senses alert.

"John, wait – what are you doing?" Tosia protested, struggling to keep up with him, her feet icy cold and her wet cloak heavy and clinging to her legs. "How could you possibly know this place…?" Her voice faded as she tried to take everything in. "John, slow down!"

But he ignored her. There was a transporter at the end of the hall, and he rushed to it, Tosia's hand pulling on his as she stumbled after him. They stepped inside, and in his mind, he told it to go to the upper level without understanding why. Tosia kept talking to him, asking him questions, but he couldn't pay attention to her.

The doors opened again and he darted into a new hallway. Tosia's hand slipped from his, finally unable to keep up with him.

"John, wait!"

It was brighter here. So bright he had to squint until his eyes adjusted. A surge of relief, of familiarity rushed through him. Windows flanked the hallway in places, revealing clear blue sky and a glimpse of a vast sea. He paused in his steps. He remembered this. He remembered the sea; miles and miles of fathomless water the color of steel. Blurring into a streak of silver as he flew higher and higher over it.

He didn't notice Tosia stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of it, but he heard her shocked exhalation and murmurs of disbelief.

"How can this be?" she whispered, turning to him, her expression bewildered, imploring. "This is not possible. Who has done this?"

John could only frown in reply, and kept walking, running his fingers along the walls, over the cool glass, countless, scattered images of this very hallway rushing through his head. Then there were voices, low and masculine, in the near distance, and John stopped, his head tilted, listening.

"Not there… there!" One of the voices said, irritated.

A sigh, and then a different voice. "Yes, Rodney."

John thought he recognized the voices, and his heart began to race. He edged closer, close enough to see two figures huddled around a pillar. A loud zapping noise made him jump, and there was a shower of sparks. Both figures leapt back.

"Dammit, Radek! What did I just say!" The first voice sputtered, furious. "Shit!"

"That was you, not me!"

"Oh, please… as if I'd ever do something so abysmally stupid!"

"Rodney – I know you have been upset since Colonel Sheppard… but it is not excuse to be insufferable."

John frowned at the sound of the familiar names and took a few steps closer, his boots squelching. Water dripped from the cuffs of his pants and the soaked lower half of his cloak.

"Oh, I can be beyond insufferable if we don't get this done, ohhh, sometime today!" the first, annoyed voice said. "So would you please just shut the hell up and do what I tell you, for once?" There was a long silence. "Thank you."

"Umm… Rodney."

"What did I just say?"

"Rodney, look!"

"Oh, for Christ's sakes…" Rodney's gaze flicked in his colleague's direction, his hand still clasped on the pliers pinching a stubborn wire. Radek's mouth hung open in an 'oh' of astonishment, his eyes huge behind his glasses and fixed on something down the length of the corridor. Rodney turned to look, and his expression all at once mirrored Radek's. The pliers dropped from his hand and onto the floor with a clatter.

John watched the two men who were staring at him in stupefied amazement. He paid no attention to Tosia standing frozen in place, a few steps behind his back.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Radek exclaimed, suddenly finding his voice, then babbled something rapidly in Czech.

"What the… how—?" Rodney stammered, taking a few disbelieving steps in John's direction. "Jesus, Sheppard!" he finally managed, his hands fluttering, his eyes round with shock. "Give us all freaking heart attacks, why don't you?!"

John frowned at him, wary of the man's erratic movements. Rodney's eyes flicked to Tosia who stared wide-eyed at both men, as though gazing upon ghostly apparitions.

"Who the hell is this?" Rodney demanded, pointing at the old woman.

Pinching his lips, John tensed as the man continually moved closer to him. He raised his hands and tried to clench them into fists, but his fingers were so cold they were almost numb.

Rodney slowed his movements, his expression morphing from shock to irritation. "Sheppard, it's me, Rodney for God's sakes!"

John blinked at him and shook his head from side to side. Something was niggling at him, something important…

"Colonel…" Rodney said, his expression softening, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Sheppard, are you all right?"

A distant part of John struggled to recognize the man in front of him. He knew him, he knew the sound of his name, but it was as though the man were speaking to him from the long end of a faraway tunnel. Then John remembered standing under a narrow shelf of rock with him. He remembered this man telling him to do something. He remembered the sudden flare of watery light, feeling as though he were encased in concrete, the tidal wave of voices and images rushing through his head, the sudden, horrific pain. He remembered this man shouting his name, grabbing onto him, and then the voices took over, filling his head, screaming, screaming... He remembered screaming along with them… screaming so loud and for so long that his voice broke…

"No… nonono…stop… stop…" John moaned, his breath hitching, willing the images back, far away from him. Shut it out, shut it out, shut it out! the one, familiar voice in his head chanted. Don't! Shaking his head, John shuffled a few steps backward. He held his hands out, pleading, willing the other man to stay away from him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Rodney froze, stunned that his friend seemed terrified of him. "Sheppard… John… it's okay…" he said, holding his own hands out in a placating gesture, but John wouldn't look at him.

Tosia took hold of John's arm and pressed close beside him. She reached into the pocket of her cloak.

"What did you do to him?" Rodney demanded, glaring at her, his eyes flashing with sudden anger. "And where the hell did you come from?"

Tosia glared right back at him, though she tightened her trembling fingers on John's arm. "I should be asking you the same thing," she said, her voice shaking, her fingers closing around the gun. "If you are a spirit, I will have to say that you are a most peculiar one."

Rodney scrunched his face in confusion. "A… a spirit? As in ghost? W-why would you think—"

"This city has lain asleep for 10,000 years! We ensured that it would stay hidden!" the old woman snapped, looking warily back and forth at Rodney and Radek as though she doubted their very existences.

The two scientists exchanged wide-eyed looks.

"Umm, we have woken city," Radek said, "almost three years ago now."

"Radek! Shut up!" Rodney hissed.

"She is harmless old woman! What can she possibly—" Then Radek abruptly did shut up and raised his hands when the harmless old woman pulled out a gun and pointed it shakily at them.

"How is this possible?" she demanded. "You cannot be of the ancestors, so how did you know the city was here? How do you know John? Did you know him before his ascension? Before his banishment?"

Rodney blinked at her, exchanging another look with Radek. The other man just shrugged.

"What? What are you talking about?" Rodney spluttered, shaking his head. "What the hell makes you think that Sheppard ascended? Although… he's had a couple of offers, mind you..." He pulled his hand over his mouth, tore through his hair, and tried to get his brain and mouth in proper synch.

"Okay… okay. Let's just… let's backtrack a moment here. So, four weeks ago – he disappeared." Rodney pointed in John's direction. "So in those four weeks… are you trying to tell me…seriously tell me that he somehow managed to…to ascend? Reach total enlightenment and turn into one of the happy floaty people and all that crap?" Rodney sneered and waggled his fingers in a fluttery gesture. "Ascended and then… uh… de-ascended, I suppose? In four weeks? Oh, and what else did you say?" He snapped his fingers in rapid succession. "Right… and banished, on top of it. Banished from what? From ascension land? Sent to his room without any supper, and that's how he suddenly and magically appeared just now? Of course, that doesn't explain you, now does it?" Folding his arms over his chest, Rodney gave Tosia a look that was both scathing and smug. "You're either completely nuts, lady, or Sheppard has some serious explaining to do, is all I can say."

Radek slanted his eyes at Rodney and whispered, "She has gun, Rodney."

"Yes, I noticed that," Rodney snapped and shifted nervously.

The old woman stayed close beside John who watched the exchange with wide-eyed confusion. "How… how many more people are here?" Tosia rasped. Her sallow complexion was almost waxen and her entire body trembled. She planted her feet a little wider to steady herself.

"A few," Rodney said, setting his jaw mulishly. "So… before you shoot me or Radek here, how about you tell us who you are? Just out of curiosity."

The old woman, blinked, taken aback by the man's effrontery, then shrugged. "Very well, since we have not been properly introduced, I am Tosia Elexus."

"Rodney McKay," Rodney said, giving her a short, somehow snide wave of his hand then pointed at his friend. "Radek Zelenka. And you know, I'd be a lot more pleased to meet you if you'd put the gun away."

"What is your business here?" Tosia demanded and only tightened her fingers around the weapon.

"We are both scientists," Radek answered, still holding up his hands.

"Well then," Tosia said, eyeing them both up and down, "we have something in common. I, too, was a scientist in this city."

Rodney's eyelids fluttered and he gaped at her. "In this city? No offense, and while you're obviously no spring chicken, I have to say that you look more like… seventy-something, than ten thousand-something."

Tosia cackled and finally lowered the gun, wavering on her feet. "I should hope so… Ronny… no… Rodney? Yes, Rodney McKay…" she said, musing aloud, "John has mentioned your name a few times. You are his friend, yes?" She looked sharply from one man to the other. "Both of you?"

"Yes, we are," Rodney said firmly, and relieved, Radek nodded and dropped his hands to his sides.

As John watched and tried to follow the exchange, the man named Rodney became clearer and clearer in his mind, closer somehow, and all at once, John remembered him. Here, in this place. Speaking with him, working with him. Walking down this hallway with him. Yes, John knew him. Quite well, in fact. He didn't yet know how, and his mind couldn't wrap around why, but somehow, he knew he could trust this man.

"R…odney…?" he said softly, uncertainly.

Rodney's eyes darted to John at the sound of his raspy voice. John cautiously stepped closer to him, and then he remembered something else. He fumbled under his cloak to find his jacket pocket. Clasping something tenuously in his fingers, he held out his hand toward Rodney.

Rodney stared first at the bandages, soaking wet and pink with diluted bloodstains. John's hand trembled, fresh blood seeping around his fingers. Then Rodney realized that John was offering him something. A glyph. Held cupped in his upraised palm. Rodney frowned in confusion, then looked up at John's face. John watched him closely, staring into Rodney's blue eyes, willing him to understand.

When Rodney didn't take the glyph, John, in frustration, turned his hand and let it drop.

"God! Sheppard! Rodney cursed and quickly caught it. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

"H-home?" John whispered, still watching him with that intense gaze.

"What?"

"He said, 'home,'" Radek helpfully supplied.

Rodney shot the other man an irritated glance, then looked back to John. "You are home, buddy," he said gently, and John blinked and took a sharp breath. "It's okay. Everything's okay," Rodney reassured him. "You're home now, and we'll… we'll sort this all out."

John held his gaze a long moment, then nodded. "Home…" he echoed with a faint smile, shivering even though his face and eyes were hot and burning. He coughed a few times, wincing at the ache in his lungs.

Tosia leaned up against him, and all at once her knees were too soft too support her any longer. John caught her around her shoulders, eased her to the floor and down sat beside her, pressing his back on the corridor wall. The old woman slumped bonelessly against him, her long, tangled hair falling over her face.

"Oh, this is just great," Rodney muttered, then tapped the earpiece of his radio. "I need Beckett and a security team down here right now."

"Rodney, do realize what this means?" Radek said quietly, looking at the unconscious woman. "She could be an Ancient."

"Yes, yes, I realize," Rodney said, rolling his eyes, "an ancient Ancient, even."

"Unless, she is delusional," Radek mused, shrugging.

"Maybe, but somehow… I don't think so. Not when Sheppard's involved."

"This is true," Radek agreed, pursing his lips.

John's eyes followed Rodney's every move as he slowly crouched down and carefully uncurled Tosia's fingers from the gun. He handed it behind him to Radek, who took the weapon without a word. When Rodney took gentle hold of one of John's cold, bleeding hands and turned it over, John was too tired to offer any resistance.

Rodney winced at the sight of the filthy, seeping bandages, and John's torn, blood-encrusted fingernails. "What is it with you and this whole ascension thing, anyway?"

John just watched him, shuddering with a cold that seemed to have turned the very marrow of his bones to ice. He closed his burning eyes, huddled in his damp cloak and his fingers unconsciously and trustingly closed over Rodney's.

--- tbc ---