Thank you all for the very kind and very wonderful reviews! I adore you guys! I also promise that the end is in sight – only about three or four more chapters to go, so I hope you all still want to come along for the ride. And… without further ado, here we go:

Looking out the long, narrow window alongside the infirmary, John gazed at the sea. He wished he could hear the rushing of the waves so that he'd have just one sound to focus on, but instead, the scattered noises surrounding him were that of people bustling around, chattering voices, numerous footsteps, the clatter of trays.

The other voices, the screaming ones were quieter now, quiet enough that he could finally hear what was going on around him, but still, he wanted to listen to the sea. If his limbs weren't so heavy and so leaden, he would push himself up from this wheelchair. He would find his way outside to one of the balconies, and he would listen to the waves and breathe in the smell of the ocean. But he was so tired that it was an effort just to keep his head from nodding, to keep his eyes from sliding shut. Still, he forced himself to stay awake. He didn't want to look away from the water. He couldn't look away, because for once, there was nothing else flitting across his vision, nothing else pulling him under, calling him to listen, to see them, to join them. There was nothing but the sea and he would watch it for as long as he could, for as long as they would let him. A part of him wondered where they had all gone to, those lost, trapped souls, but another part of him was grateful for the respite. He knew they'd be back. They always came back.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he almost looked up to see who it was, but then he stopped himself, afraid that if he glanced away from the waves, for even a moment, the faces, and the voices would come back.

"John..." someone called softly to him, and he was glad he didn't have to look away to recognize that the voice belonged to Tosia.

Her hand slid from his shoulder to his forearm and the sensation was fuzzy, muted. Then she was right in front of him, blocking his view of the window and the sea. He scowled and shifted in his chair, trying to see past her, but Tosia was relentless and only moved closer to him.

"John, I must tell you something," she said, and the urgency in her voice made him try to focus on her. She picked up his hand and held it in hers. He frowned at the heaviness and odd numbness of his own hand. He tried to curl his cold fingers around hers and they responded slowly and after much concentration. Her hand was warm, and it felt good when she gently chaffed his fingers between her own. "It is strange to see you so terribly still, so very quiet," she said softly to him, and John wasn't certain what she meant by that. "Are you better off this way?" she mused, aloud. "I trust that Dr. Beckett knows what he is doing, but still... this does not seem right, does it?"

He blinked at her and something about her words troubled him, so he looked back to the water.

"Rodney has found a way for me to return home, John. Your team and I will be leaving very soon," she continued, regardless of his inattention and gazing into his eyes. John tried to hear her, but it was so hard to focus, to think.

"But before I go... I must thank you..." Tosia paused, and looked away for a moment. Then, squaring her shoulders, she smiled at him and when she spoke again, her voice was calm and assured. "Because of you, and the generosity of your friends, my people now have a means to end their suffering and better their lives. And more selfishly..." she said, pausing and laying his hand back down only to pick up the other one. "I must thank you for allowing me to see Atlantis one last time." She glanced over her shoulder to the view of the city's tall, majestic spires and the sea shimmering in the morning sunlight. "I do not deserve it, but I am indebted to you for this miraculous gift."

Something clattered to the floor behind them, and John startled, squeezing his eyes shut a moment. With a sharp gasp, he tore his eyes open again when a rush of images immediately came forth – scattered thoughts, raw, mindless fear, screaming, helpless rage—

"Stop..." he said, forcing them away, forcing them down to hushed, but relentless whispers. He pulled his hand free from Tosia's and placed both of them over his ears. But Tosia only took firm hold of his wrists, pulling his hands away and holding them tight. She hovered right in front of him, but he couldn't look at her, couldn't see her. Why wouldn't she just go away and let him watch the waves?

"John, look at me a moment," she said in a sharp tone. He shook his head no, and turned his face away. Tosia released his hands and placed her own trembling ones on the sides of his face. She turned his head, forcing him to look at her, as she had done so many times before. "John, you must listen to me. Just this one more time, all right? Can you please do that? I know it is hard, but you must try to listen."

The vehemence in her voice captured his attention, and it took a moment, but he was able to meet her gaze.

"That's it, that's good," she encouraged, smiling at him. "John, you must listen very closely to me now. You must be strong, and you must use that incredible determination you found in the ruins, and you fight, and you find your way back from this!" She punctuated her strong words by giving him a firm shake. He blinked at her, and her words rang loud and clear through the countless, scattered thoughts racing through his mind. At the same time, he didn't know how he could do as she asked. "Do you understand, John? You must not stop until you find your way back. There are many people here who love you and miss you."

He held her fierce gaze, and he wanted to tell her that he'd tried. He'd tried and tried but they wouldn't let him go. He couldn't find his way back and it was just too hard. He wished that she would stop talking, that she would let him go and leave him alone. It was easier to watch the waves and tune out to where he didn't have to listen to anything, where he didn't have to see anything else. He jerked his chin, pulling away, but Tosia only tightened her grip and gave him another shake – harder this time, so hard that his teeth clicked together. His eyes snapped back to hers and he pulled in a sharp breath.

"John! I know you can hear me and understand me – you have done it before," she insisted. "Promise me that you will fight, and that you will not give up."

John struggled to stay focused on her, but they were coming back, the voices were becoming louder, more urgent, shushshushing. His heart began to race, terror seized hold of him, but he forced himself not to listen to them. "Trying..." he gasped, suddenly needing to make her understand that he was trying, that he wanted to make them go away, but he was so tired and they just wouldn't stop. "T-trying... but... I c-can't…"

Tosia stared at him a moment, startled. Her grip stayed firm and strong and she looked straight into his eyes, his very soul, it seemed. "Then you just try harder," she commanded. "Fight, John. Promise me."

"Promise...?" he whispered, uncertain, and that one, familiar voice in his head shouted at him to do as she asked, to just buck up already, but he didn't want to listen anymore.

"All right." Tosia said softly, over the sound of the voice, but she looked troubled, her brow creased with worry. "I know that you will come out of this. You are a fighter, John, just like Gaereth was." She said this so assuredly that a part of him almost believed her even as another part of him was certain that he wouldn't be able to find his way.

Tosia's pale eyes filled with tears, and John didn't resist when she pulled him into a sudden and fierce embrace. Her grip was surprisingly strong as she held onto him. The contact was so reassuring, so near, that he leaned his head against her thin shoulder. She cupped the back of his head, gently rubbing the short, soft hairs on the nape of his neck.

"Goodbye, John," she said in a trembling voice and kissed his cheek before releasing him and stepping back. "You are going to be all right, and I know that I am leaving you in good hands." She nodded again, as though reassuring herself. "You have a very good friend in Rodney McKay. You let him help you, but don't you take any nonsense from him, either."

John watched as she wiped away the tears on her face, and all at once, he didn't want her to go. "Bye..." he managed after a moment, but that wasn't what he had wanted to say, and he made a frustrated sound low in his throat. His suddenly stinging eyes began to water. His chest tightened with some indefinable emotion, and he wondered if he would ever see her again. At the same time, it was too much for him to take in. It was too hard... so hard to think clearly. He looked away from her to the window, to watch the silent water. But from the corner of his eye, he could still see her as she slowly walked away from him, leaving him alone. Blinking back unshed tears, he began to rock a little, began to hum softly to himself. He didn't have to see anything but the water, didn't have to hear anything but his own humming, and he didn't have to think. It was just easier that way.

But then a tear escaped, rolling down his cheek and trailing his jaw. It itched maddeningly, and he clumsily swiped it away. The noises of the infirmary and the nurses bustling around kept distracting him, and he stopped humming without realizing it. When one of the nurses came to check on him and offered him a glass of water, he managed to nod and take hold of it. The water tasted wonderfully cool and soothed his parched throat. He drank nearly the entire glass before handing it back to her.

That single, infuriatingly familiar voice spoke up in his mind again, as urgent as it was in the ruins. Fight, it said, and like he had done before, back there, John couldn't help but listen to it, and he began to look for the way back.

---tbc---