Demons

by SGAFan

When a routine mission goes horribly wrong, Major John Sheppard survives, but now must face an enemy none of his training or experience could prepare him for himself. Suddenly, John is forced to question everything he's ever stood for.

3. Book II Chapter I

Part 2 – Imprisonment

Acceptance of what has happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune.

William James

John stared down the long hallway. For what seemed like forever, he'd been slowly making his way to the infirmary, Carson tailing him, watching his every move. Each step was a challenge, as his body made its condition known. Unsupported by adrenaline, his legs felt leaden. No longer in plain sight of anyone but Carson, John found that he couldn't keep up strong appearances. "I'm sorry, Doc," John whispered, "I just can't seem…."

Carson waved absently at the Major, his concerned face full of compassion. "'Tis alright, Major. I have nowhere else to be."

Barely acknowledging Carson's reassurance, John felt numb…disconnected. Surges of guilt came and went, their presence strangely reassuring. John was baffled at the thought. It was as if the guilt gave him something to feel… countered the numbness, reminded him he was still alive….

…And that Cooper wasn't.

At that moment, John wasn't sure what was worse, the numbness or the guilt. He grabbed the nearby wall, his hand sliding across it as a wave of lightheadedness came over him. He felt Carson's solid grip on his free arm. John pulled in a ragged breath and ran a hand over his face. He glanced at Carson, who was staring at him intently.

"Major, are you sure you don't…?"

"No." John abruptly cut off the doctor. He knew exactly what Carson was driving at. "No stretchers." He stared as evenly at the doctor as he could manage, watching as Carson pursed his lips, before nodding slightly.

"Okay," Carson's compassionate gaze hardened slightly, "but anymore episodes like that, and I won't take no for an answer, Major, even if I have to have Martin physically put you on the stretcher himself."

John's eyes widened slightly at the thought of the 6'8" ex-linebacker sergeant following Carson's orders instead of his. A small smile crept onto John's face as he once again slowly made his way down the hallway. "I outrank him, Doc," John countered.

Carson grunted. "Not now you don't. You're my patient. I give the orders here."

John looked up, and slowly continued his trek down the hallway. Finally reaching the infirmary, he sighed as the doors parted in front of him. From the moment he stepped across the threshold into the infirmary, Carson immediately and completely took over. John looked down as Carson's strong grip once again settled on his arm. He felt himself being guided across the room towards a bed. He glanced at Carson as the doctor looked over his shoulder.

"Lansing, I want a full blood workup on the Major. And get an IV started. Hang a liter of Ringers to begin with." Carson turned to one of the other medics. "Once the Major is ready, I want a full skull series, too. Let's make sure we don't have anything more serious than a concussion here."

Carson gently pushed John into a sitting position on the bed, and pulled a makeshift privacy curtain around them. He knelt and unlaced John's boots.

"Doc, you don't have to do that." John leaned forward to stand, but abruptly found himself stopped by Carson's restraining hand.

"Stay put. We're going to get you out of these clothes and into bed, Major, and you're not leaving it until I say so."

John rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "I haven't exactly had a chance to get a shower in a while…."

Carson dropped both of John's boots by the bed and paused, a reassuring smile crossing his face. "It's okay. We'll worry about a shower later, when I'm sure you're okay."

John sighed. "Doc, I'm fine, really."

"I'll be the judge of that." Carson's gaze hardened slightly. He waved his hand at John. "Off with the shirt."

John pulled his shirt slowly over his head and dropped it into Carson's hands, but the doctor's gaze was fixed on John's chest and the numerous bruises scattered across his ribcage.

"Ach." Carson looked at John's back, finding similar evidence of the Wraith's treatment. "Looks like we're adding a full chest series too."

"They don't feel broken, Doc," John answered, bracing his hand on the gurney. Just sitting up was proving to be more and more difficult. He glanced up as Lansing came around the edge of the curtain. Slightly uncomfortable, John looked at Carson who nodded.

Carson smiled at the female medic. "Lansing, lass, will you give us a minute to get the Major settled into bed?"

Lansing glanced at Carson before looking at John and smiling, her expression understanding. "Sure." She stepped back behind the curtain, leaving John and Carson alone.

John flashed a half smile at Beckett. "Thanks, Doc."

Carson smiled, mischief flickering in his blue eyes. "None of that until you're stronger."

John's half smile turned to a full one for a moment, Carson's light tease briefly driving away some of his gloom. "Spoilsport," he whispered.

Before long, John found himself lying on the bed, his soiled and nearly destroyed clothes replaced by a fresh set of scrubs. After a thorough exam by Carson, at least a dozen X-rays, and several vials of blood, John found himself alone for the moment. He glanced at the IV, the even, slow drip almost hypnotic. His eyelids drooped, as his body seemed to melt into the bed. The voices around him faded to distant buzzing, as exhaustion overtook him and John fell into a deep sleep.

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Elizabeth stood quietly, watching as Ford, Simms, Stackhouse, Teyla and McKay all filed from the conference room. She crossed her arms and sighed. Her mind raced, trying to take in all they had told her in the hour long debriefing. She was saddened at the loss of Corporal Cooper, but part of her was amazed. Stunned that any of them had gotten out alive, shocked that John was still alive… and relieved they had him back.

She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked around the table, her fingers running over the smooth surface, until she came to the chair opposite where she had been sitting. John's chair. The place he always sat for briefings, conferences and meetings, but disturbingly empty today. Elizabeth was mildly startled to realize just how much she relied on his very direct attitude, his black and white take on things, and his unwavering support. She drew strength from him, and until that strength had been taken from her, she didn't realize just how much she cherished it.

Sighing deeply, Elizabeth turned and walked out of the conference room. She crossed the command center and headed for the back stairs. "I'll be in the infirmary." She briefly made eye contact with Grodin, who nodded slightly. Walking past Rodney, Elizabeth was surprised as he fell in next to her.

"Care for some company?"

Elizabeth glanced at Rodney, a small smile briefly flashing across her face. "Sure." She quickly descended the stairs and headed for the infirmary. Silence hung between her and Rodney as she strode down the long hallway. Not that she had much to say anyway. Preoccupied with John's condition, nothing else seemed important enough to comment on.

"He's tough you know," Rodney abruptly spoke.

Elizabeth stopped and faced him. "What?"

Uncomfortable outside his acerbic, caustic environment, Rodney fidgeted slightly. "The Major. He's strong. He'll… he'll be okay."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, he will." Her voice was confident, even though deep inside, she wasn't sure. She turned and continued down the hallway and through the doors into the infirmary. Just inside, she stopped, her eyes fixed on John's sleeping form. His head was turned slightly to the side, and he seemed in a peaceful deep sleep. Elizabeth tore her eyes from him as Beckett crossed the room to them.

"Carson," she smiled slightly. "How is he?"

Preoccupied, Beckett glanced at John. "Physically? He's a little battered, but nothing serious. A couple of bruised ribs, moderate concussion, and lots of bruises and abrasions, but he should be up and on his feet in a few days. I don't anticipate any complications from any of his physical injuries, and I don't see any sign that the Major was fed on by the Wraith. He's sleeping quietly for the moment; he's exhausted."

Weir's gaze narrowed at Beckett's hesitant tone of voice. "That's good news… but?"

Beckett sighed. "Emotionally may be a different story." He looked at Elizabeth, his expression full of concern. "There are some anomalies in his blood work."

"But you just said…" Rodney broke in, only to be cut off by Beckett.

"Aye, physically, he's going to be fine. The anomalies are consistent with what we've seen in victims of Wraith stunner blasts, but much more predominant." Beckett locked gazes with Elizabeth. "Near as I can tell, the Major has been repeatedly shot by a Wraith stunner."

Elizabeth glanced at Rodney, whose gaze was as grim as Beckett's. "What?"

Paling, Rodney looked at Elizabeth. "From what we've been able to determine, Wraith stunners have various different settings ranging from unconsciousness to…" Rodney swallowed hard, "painful consciousness."

Elizabeth stared back at him, trying to grasp what the two men were saying. Her eyes widened as she made the connection. "Torture?" she whispered.

His face grim, Beckett nodded slowly. "Aye."

"Probably trying to get information on Atlantis," Rodney muttered, his gaze drifting to John.

"My God." Elizabeth closed her eyes against the thought. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked at Beckett. "What's this going to do to him, Carson?"

Beckett sighed. "I'm not positive. Reactions to events like this can vary from individual to individual, but I'm definitely concerned about Acute Stress Syndrome, possibly even PTSD. The Major has endured a very traumatic experience. He may have problems dealing with it emotionally."

"Not to mention, Cooper," Rodney added, his own voice quiet.

"Aye," Beckett nodded. He nodded at Elizabeth's questioning look. "If the Major witnessed Cooper's death, his emotional hardship could be that much more difficult to deal with."

"What do we do?" Elizabeth whispered, unable to tear her eyes from the sleeping Major.

Beckett crossed his arms. "I'll talk to Dr. Heightmeyer about this, but I suspect we watch him for a few days and see how he's coping. She'll probably want to speak to him too."

Elizabeth nodded slightly before she slowly crossed the room to stand by John's bed. Looking down at his bruised face, Elizabeth found herself fighting tears as she thought about all he'd been forced to endure at the hands of the Wraith. John was strong and, deep down, Elizabeth urgently prayed he was strong enough to get through this.

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Panicked, John watched… helpless to do anything. "NO!" He pulled fruitlessly against his guard as Cooper's strangled scream echoed through the large room. "Leave him alone you son of a bitch!"

The Wraith Lord sneered. His poised hand descended on Cooper's chest and he once again fed.

"You bastard!" John fought the guard's strong hold. "I gave you something! Leave him alone!"

His eyes hazed with death, Cooper looked at John one last time.

The Wraith Lord fired again.

Consumed by pain, John writhed, powerless to fight. His breath stolen, he couldn't even scream out in agony….

Fred's lips parted slowly into a sneer, his dark, piercing eyes locked on John's hazel ones. "I will break you, and when I do, you will tell me all I want to know."

"No!" Sheppard struggled, trying to escape. "No! I won't!"

Fred grabbed his arm forcefully. "You will! I will break you, human!" He fired again….

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Elizabeth's gaze narrowed as John began to stir, his breathing quickening. She turned around. "Carson!"

In an instant, Carson and Rodney were at her side.

Carson grabbed John's arm, trying to protect the IV as the Major's thrashing became more violent. "Damn it! He's dreaming! Major!"

"No… NO!" John's shaky voice strengthened.

"John!" Elizabeth added her voice to Carson's as Rodney stepped around the bed and grabbed John's other arm.

Holding John's arm with one hand, Rodney placed his free hand on John's shoulder and shook it. "Major!"

The effect was instantaneous.

"NO!" John roared. Bolting straight up in bed, he lashed out, sending Rodney reeling into the nearby crash cart. Rodney hit the floor hard, before sliding to a stop.

"JOHN!" Elizabeth shouted in alarm.

John froze, his eyes fixing on Elizabeth, confusion and terror clouding them. Panting heavily, he looked around, his gaze panicked, as if he expected something to leap out at him any second.

Elizabeth reached out, lightly touching his leg. She jerked er hand away as John flinched, his gaze flying back to her. "John," she repeated, her quiet voice reassuring. "It's okay."

"Take it easy, Major," Carson added, staring evenly back as John's gaze fixed on him. "It was only a nightmare. You're alright now."

John visibly relaxed as the fog of confusion lifted from his hazel eyes. He flopped back against the pillows and pulled in a deep breath. "Damn," he whispered.

Carson carefully let go of his arm and looked up as Rodney gradually stood. Rubbing his left shoulder, Rodney slowly walked back to John's bed.

John looked at Rodney. "Sorry."

On the verge of an acerbic retort, Rodney bit back his words and nodded slightly. "It's, ah… okay."

John closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "It was so real, it…." His voice trailed off as he opened his eyes and looked around at them. Apparently uncomfortable with the silence, he turned his head away and stared at the opposite wall.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Try and get some rest, Major. We'll be back later." Looking up first at Carson, then at Rodney, Elizabeth motioned towards the door. She walked away from John's bed and crossed the room, Rodney and Carson flanking her.

A safe distance from John's bed, she stopped and turned to face them. "Carson? He was so…." Elizabeth groped for the right words. "He'll never admit it, but when he looked at me, he was… terrified."

Carson nodded. "Aye, I was afraid of this. I'll make sure he's resting again, then I'm going to have a chat with Heightmeyer."

Elizabeth nodded. "We both will. When you and Dr. Heightmeyer are ready, meet me in my office."

Carson nodded. "Will do." He glanced at Rodney. "You all right?"

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed as she stared at Rodney, whose eyes were fixed on John. Rodney seemed a million miles away.

"Rodney?" Carson prompted.

Rodney's head abruptly turned. "Carson. Yes. I'm fine."

Elizabeth smiled briefly at him before returning her attention to Carson. "I'll be in my office."

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Elizabeth watched as Dr. Kate Heightmeyer paced in front of the broad desk Elizabeth sat behind.

"You have good cause to be concerned, Carson." Heightmeyer sighed. "From what you've been able to tell me, Major Sheppard has endured a very traumatic event. It will affect him emotionally, but how much and in what ways we won't know for at least a few days, until things sink in a little for him."

"What about the dream?" Elizabeth asked quietly. "He was… terrified."

Heightmeyer paused in her pacing and nodded at Elizabeth. "It's not uncommon for people who experience such traumatic events to have nightmares. Major Sheppard's mind is trying to cope with what's happened to him. Dreaming is one way our minds do that."

Elizabeth nodded. She looked at Beckett. "Carson, how long do you think you'll keep him in the infirmary?"

Beckett sighed and leaned back in his chair. "At least a couple days, maybe three or four just to be safe, and to be sure he's resting the way he should."

"How long until he'd be physically fit for active duty?" Elizabeth's expression was pensive as she leaned forward on her desk.

"Four, maybe five days for light duty, another week for regular, active status," Beckett replied.

"I'd like to speak with him at least once before then," Heightmeyer interrupted. She folded her hands in front of her. "I think we need to know where he stands, emotionally, before clearing him for any duty."

"Agreed." Elizabeth nodded.

Heightmeyer resumed pacing. "Dr. Weir, we're not going to know, for a while, exactly how he is dealing with his ordeal. We're going to have to watch him and see how he does."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and considered the psychologist's words. "Maybe I should keep him off active duty until we know?"

"You'll have a devil of a time convincing him of that," Beckett replied. He smiled at Elizabeth's determined look.

"I can handle that, if needs be." Elizabeth arched her eyebrows at Beckett.

"I don't think that's necessary unless he's clearly having issues," Heightmeyer interjected. "I'll be able to tell at least that much as soon as I talk to him. Routine, work and something to do may be the best thing for him."

Elizabeth slowly nodded. "Okay. Thank you." She watched as both Beckett and Heightmeyer filed from her office. Elizabeth folded her hands on her lap and let her mind wander. Just how would they know if John was okay? And how could she trust to send him off world if she didn't know that for sure? She pushed the thoughts from her mind. They'd have to take this one step at a time.

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"Doc, if you don't let me out of here, I'm gonna break something!" John sat on the edge of his bed and glared at the doctor.

Carson returned the look. "Major, you need your rest. It's only been two days. Now I want you in that bed for at least two more."

"I feel fine!" John slid off the bed and stood, all the while continuing to glower at Carson.

"You're not fine," Carson stood toe to toe with John. The doctor pointed at the bed. "Two days."

John arched an eyebrow. "Two days in my quarters."

"Do ye think this is a negotiation?" Carson glared at John. "Bed! Two days!"

John's expression turned slightly playful. "One. And I'll spend the other in my quarters." He raised his hand in a placating gesture. "I promise." He arched his brows in a pleading manner.

"Ach." Carson rolled his eyes and chuckled. "I suppose we have to reach some compromise, or you'll just charm your way past poor Lansing over there and leave anyway."

John flashed Carolyn Lansing a half smile, his grin broadening as she blushed and looked away. He looked back at Carson as the doctor pushed on his chest.

"Bed!"

Sighing, John relented and sat back down on his bed. He pulled a light sheet over himself and settled back against the pillows.

"That's a good patient," Carson teased. He grinned at John's frown. Carson's expression turned slightly serious. "Besides, Dr. Heightmeyer wants to talk to you this afternoon."

The glint of humor disappeared from John's eyes. His frown deepened. "Heightmeyer? Why?"

"Why?" Carson's eyes widened slightly. "Major, whether or not you admit it, you had a hell of an experience. Dr. Weir…."

"Elizabeth," John whispered and nodded to himself.

"And I," Carson insisted, "not to mention Dr. Heightmeyer, we all just want to make sure you're all right."

His expression intense, John looked up at Carson. "And I don't have a say in this?"

Carson sighed. "Major, it's not as big of an ordeal as you seem to think it is. Most branches of the military would call something like this SOP and you know it."

John pursed his lips and looked away. It was as if they didn't trust him to know whether or not he was okay, and that irritated him. He pushed down his ire. "Yeah." His tone was unconvinced, but conceding. "They would."

"Alright then," Carson smiled. His gaze narrowed as his smile faded slightly. "If there's nothing wrong with you, Major, then you have nothing to worry about."

John watched the doctor walk away. Tension crept into his shoulders and he rolled his head slightly before easing it back on his pillow. He chastised himself for feeling anxious about speaking to Heightmeyer. He pushed the feelings away and grabbed his thick hardcover book. Immersing himself in War and Peace, John refused to think about anything else.

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John's irritation returned with the arrival of Dr. Heightmeyer. He slowly set his book down and stared evenly at her as she crossed the infirmary to his bed.

Heightmeyer smiled warmly at him and stood at the foot of his bed. "Major Sheppard."

Guarded, John stared at her smiling face, suspicion rising in him. "Dr. Heightmeyer."

Heightmeyer nodded to herself and walked up next to him. "Relax, Major, this is just a routine chat, nothing else."

Sure it is. John pursed his lips and looked away. "Yeah."

Heightmeyer sat in a chair next to him. "How do you feel, Major?"

Inwardly, John chuckled at the standard, predictable, question. He didn't look at her. "Irritated."

"Really?" Heightmeyer crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap. "Why?"

"Because Beckett won't let me out of here." He arched his brows and looked at her, his expression challenging. It was a light toned reply, but to John's surprise, the real meaning – the agile parry to her question – wasn't lost on her.

Heightmeyer smiled. "I see." Her smile faded. "Tell me about what happened to you and Cooper, Major."

John looked away. He felt like he was in a fencing match and she'd just moved in for the kill. Forced to remember his experiences, anger rose within him, but he suppressed it. He'd lost men under his command, how was he supposed to feel?

"Major?"

John sighed. "There's not much to tell. Cooper and I were captured. The Wraith killed Cooper trying to get me to talk." He glanced at her. He'd been forced to see shrinks before… and could see what was coming. "And before you ask, I do feel angry about it. I lost two good men under my command. But it's nothing I can't handle." John shook his head. "I've seen men die in combat before, Doctor. It's not something I dwell on because it'll tear you up if you do." He stared at her, his expression once more guarded. Parry.

After a moment, Heightmeyer nodded. "Well, you certainly know exactly what I want to hear." Her gaze narrowed as she stared intently at him.

Riposte. John shook his head and sighed. "Look, Doctor, the point here is, I'm fine."

"That was a pretty bad nightmare you had, or so I heard," Heightmeyer countered quietly.

John pursed his lips. She was relentless… responding to each of his statements with one of her own. "People have nightmares, Doctor. Are you going to tell me there's something wrong with my head because of it?" Still looking away, John heard her stand. His lips twitched at the silence that greeted him. Finally, he looked up into her patient expression.

"No, Major, I'm not… not now anyway." She walked to the end of his bed and turned back, giving him a warm, but knowing gaze. "I want you to come talk to me if you ever feel like you need to, okay?"

"Yeah, I will." Deep down, John felt relieved, and knew his comment was a brush off. Once again, looking up at Heightmeyer, he could tell she knew it was too.

Heightmeyer sighed and nodded once before leaving him.

John settled back in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He'd jumped through one more hoop on his way back to active duty. Now all he had to do was get out of the infirmary. John itched to get back to work, to be able to completely and wholly immerse himself in his work… to go on with his life and put the past behind him.

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Elizabeth looked up as a gentle knocking on her doorframe grabbed her attention.

"Have a minute?" Kate Heightmeyer smiled.

Elizabeth returned the expression and waved Heightmeyer into her office. "Dr. Heightmeyer, yes. Come in. Have a seat." Elizabeth watched as Heightmeyer sat down on the opposite side of Elizabeth's desk.

"I'd like to speak to you about Major Sheppard."

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "How is he?"

Heightmeyer sighed. "I'm not sure. He could be as he says he is, which is fine, or he could be denying that something is wrong. He even could be at a stage where he doesn't realize something isn't right, and believes he's fine. It's hard to tell."

Elizabeth drummed her fingers on the armrest of her chair for a moment, before abruptly standing. She walked to a nearby bookcase and fingered one of the delicate Athosian vases that sat there. Dr. Heightmeyer hadn't said what Elizabeth wanted to hear. Even if John wasn't okay, at least she'd know for sure. This state of limbo –being forced to make a judgment call without knowing what was going on – worried her.

She turned and stared intently at Heightmeyer. "What about his torture?"

Heightmeyer pursed her lips. "He didn't mention it, nor did I push for him too. He'll talk about it, eventually, either to me or to someone else. I didn't think its wise to pursue it any further at this time. If his dealing with that becomes an issue, we can address it then."

Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. "Carson tells me in another five days or so, he'll be physically able to return to active duty." Her gaze narrowed. "Should he?"

Now it was Heightmeyer's turn to stand. She crossed the room to where Elizabeth stood. "If you're looking for a definitive answer, I don't have one. If you're asking my opinion, I'd say yes, simply because I can't prove otherwise. For all intents and purposes, he is fine. But," Heightmeyer arched an eyebrow, "it might be prudent to keep him on Atlantis and not on any offworld missions for now, just until we know more."

Elizabeth nodded. Okay. Thank you." She turned, her eyes once more passing over her vase collection as her thoughts wandered. She weighed the pros and cons of the situation and decided that Heightmeyer's recommendation was a good one… and prayed they were both right.

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He woke. Cold sweat clung to him, his breath coming in gasps. Faint images of darkness… feelings of dread… lost their hold on him, fading fast from his memory. John stared at the ceiling, willing himself to relax and go back to sleep, but the dread clung to him. Persistent and demanding, it lingered. Faint images of Fred dashed through his memory, and dim shadows of pain fleeted over him as the nightmare continued to fade, leaving a cold chill in its wake, and a touch of relief that he couldn't remember the specifics of what had terrified him enough to wake him.

John looked around the infirmary, the night-time lights dim. He could just make out the silhouette of one of the night-shift nurses, filling out paperwork under a bright centered desk light. He closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow before his agitation alerted the nurse. John pulled in a deep breath, then another, as calmness returned to him. Determination took over. There was no way Carson was going to release him today if he showed even a hint that he wasn't himself. John's thoughts drifted to returning to duty… and the normalcy that would come with it. The dark, cold images of his ordeal faded in his memory as sleep returned to him.

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You'd think I'd been gone for months…

It was the first thought to spring to John's mind as he stopped at the top of the command center stairs and paused, his gaze traveling over the people assembled there. His hand unconsciously settled on his side arm. Five sets of eyes were fixed on him, and John arched his eyebrows, a self-conscious smile flashing across his face.

"Major, welcome back," Weir smiled and nodded slightly at him.

John scratched the back of his neck and crossed the command deck to Weir. "Thanks. It's good to be back." He glanced at the other four people looking at him, all of them smiling. Ford… Teyla… McKay… Beckett. He made brief eye contact with each one before looking back to Weir. "What's on the agenda?"

Weir's gaze lingered on him a moment longer before she glanced at McKay. "Rodney?"

McKay tapped a few keys on his laptop. "The North Pier. We were all set to do a first sweep when you were…" McKay's voice trailed off as he glanced up at John hesitantly.

"I was captured," John said quietly. He looked around at all of their concerned expressions. He sighed. "Look, I'm okay with it." His gaze lingered longest on Beckett. The doctor's expression was reserved, but he remained silent. "Really."

Beckett sighed. "If I didn't believe you, Major, I'd have never cleared you for duty."

John nodded once, curtly. He looked back at the laptop. "McKay?"

"Right." McKay returned his attention to his laptop. "There are still a few sections of the North Pier we haven't been to yet. We should probably at least make a first pass through them today."

"Sounds good." John looked expectantly at Weir who nodded.

"You have a go, Major," she smiled slightly.

John returned her nod. He looked at the other members of his team. "Ford, Teyla, McKay. Let's go." He headed for the back stairs, his hand coming up to grasp his P-90. The feel of the cold weapon in his hand sparked brief memories of gunfire, and Wraith stunner blasts, and his step faltered slightly as adrenaline surged through him. Puzzled, John caught himself and continued towards the stairs, pushing away the memories and focusing on the present.

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Elizabeth watched John go. He'd been calm, composed and professional on the day they'd decided to do the debriefing of his capture. Deadpan, his face had held no hint of emotion, no spark of anger, no sign of remorse. Evenly, quietly, John had recounted the events of his capture, and of Cooper's death.

Elizabeth shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the Major's back. Even presented factually, she'd been shocked at what he and Cooper had been forced to endure. The fact that the Major could bounce back so fast and go on with his duties amazed her…

…And worried her. She dwelt on their conversation, just that morning.

"Knock, knock."

Elizabeth smiled and looked up from her computer screen. "John, come in." She watched him cross her office, his stride easy and relaxed.

He settled into a chair and smiled at her.

"It's good to have you back on active duty, Major."

John nodded. "It's good to be back." He took a deep breath. "So, Rodney tells me there are several planets to scout. Which one are we visiting today? Or do I get to choose?" he teased lightly.

Elizabeth's smile faded. She looked away, all the while feeling John's penetrating gaze on her. "John…."

"We're not going offworld? Why?" he interrupted her.

Elizabeth let determination take over her expression. There was no sense in avoiding the confrontation. She met his gaze. "No. You're not going off world… at least not yet." She watched as his sober expression intensified.

"Just me? Why?"

She sighed and stared down at her folded hands. "Dr. Heightmeyer thought…."

"I see."

His interruption was curt, and Elizabeth looked up, her brow furrowing. "No, John. I don't think you do."

He abruptly leaned forward in his chair. "Elizabeth, I'm fine. How many times do I have to say that before someone will believe me?"

"John," Elizabeth leaned forward and crossed her hands on her desk, "its not that we don't believe you…." She arched a brow as he once more interrupted her; a habit he fell into when he was upset.

"If you believed me, we wouldn't be having this conversation!" He glared at her, tension lining his strong features.

She looked away and pursed her lips in thought, before her eyes flashed back to him. "I appreciate how you feel. Just humor me, okay?" She arched an eyebrow and gave him a small smile. She had to fight to keep her smile subtle as he sighed in resignation and nodded.

"Okay. As long is this isn't too… long…." He cocked an all-too-familiar eyebrow at her and stood.

She watched him walk away, only for him to stop after a few steps and look back at her.

"I'll be reviewing guard schedules if anyone wants to rescue me." His mock tone was martyred and his expression matched it.

She smiled in return and gestured at the stack of reports on her desk. "You can help me with mine…."

John raised his hand and backed out of her office. "No thanks!"

Elizabeth watched John disappear down the stairwell, as her flashback faded. She could still see the tension in his eyes, the reservation in his voice, and she wasn't sure if it was because he was cooped up on Atlantis….

.…Or if it was something else.

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"This is it." Rodney paused as he stared at his LSD display.

John stopped next to him. "What?"

"Here!" Rodney pointed at the floor. "This is as far as we've gone. The rest is uncharted."

John lifted his gun and shone the light down the long corridor. "Okay, let's take this slowly. Keep your eyes peeled, everyone." They all started down the hallway.

"Eyes… peeled?" Teyla inquired as she looked around.

"It's an Earth expression," Ford responded. "It means keep your eyes open."

"Right Ford," Rodney butted into the conversation. "Like that's going to mean anything more to her!"

"Why would I close them?" Teyla looked at Ford in confusion.

"If you can do better, McKay, why didn't you answer?" Ford retorted.

Rodney sighed. "Because, Ford, I have more important…"

"All right, that's enough!" John snapped as he whirled around and faced them. He instantly regretted his tone. He sighed. "Just… pay attention." He turned and once more headed down the hallway, all the while feeling his team's surprised stares on his back… and it matched his feelings. Irked at his own irrational response, he pushed it aside and forced himself to concentrate as the team silently proceeded down the dark hallway.

John rounded the corner and abruptly stopped, every pore in his body screaming a warning. His gun instantly came up as he searched for the danger that had his internal alarms going off. The corridor was dark, the only light coming from their flashlights. John looked around, the dread within him growing. Deep within him, his primal instincts screamed. Any moment he'd be attacked… captured… helpless… hurt….

"Major?"

John felt the light brush of Ford's shoulder as the Lieutenant stood close to him, his weapon ready. Once again, Ford's shoulder brushed against John and he had to fight not to flinch away.

"I'm not detecting anything. What is it, Major?" From behind, Rodney's voice was puzzled.

John swallowed hard, and fought to keep his breathing even. There was nothing wrong… nothing there, but something still gnawed at him… demanded to be heard… refused to go away.

"Sir?"

John forced himself to lower his weapon and looked at Ford. "Nothing. I thought there was something there."

Ford relaxed at the sight of John's lowered weapon. "Yes, sir."

Once again, John lifted his gun, this time in a relaxed pose, allowing the light to shine down the darkened corridor. He took a step forward, then another, all the while fighting through his instincts, and forcing control over his rushing emotions. It wasn't the first dark hallway on Atlantis he'd ever walked down, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but something about it, had sparked something deep inside John. Something base… primitive… but strong.

John looked around, his mind briefly wandering, puzzled by his reaction. The darkened hallways…the feelings of dread…they were all too familiar. He'd seen his two best friends blown up by an RPG, and had nightmares about it, off and on, for six months afterwards, but never anything like this. He had to admit that, as horrible as their deaths had been, they had been a cakewalk compared to his imprisonment on the Wraith ship. But he'd handled Mitch and Dex's deaths, and he'd handle this… it'd just take him more time. Confident in himself, John knew he could work it out… and, until then, he'd rely on a little latitude from the people around him… but he deserved it and, after all he'd gone through, John knew he'd get it.

Returning his attention to their surroundings, he paused as his light hit the end of the corridor. "End of the line."

Rodney sighed loudly. "There's nothing here. Let's go back. There're six more corridors we need to cover." Rodney turned and headed back down the hallway, Ford and Teyla right behind him.

John looked around once more, his light bouncing off the high ceiling, before he walked off and joined his team.

Three hours later, John led them back into the control room. Looking up from one of the Ancient consoles, Weir's gaze held an unasked question, to which John shook his head. "A whole lot of nothing."

"I can't believe I missed lunch for that," Rodney groused. "I'm starving!"

John rolled his eyes at Rodney before returning his attention to Weir. "Some living quarters, a couple of large, empty rooms, but nothing to report really. We should have some survey teams check more thoroughly."

"I doubt they'll find anything useful," Rodney muttered.

Weir nodded at the Major. "Sounds good."

"Great, wonderful, fantastic!" Rodney stepped around Weir and headed for the back stairs. "Now, I'm getting something to eat, before I collapse from hypoglycemic shock."

Amused, John shook his head and made eye contact with Weir before she looked over her shoulder at Rodney. "Senior staff meeting in an hour, Rodney."

"I know!" Rodney's annoyed reply echoed up from the stairwell.

John glanced at Teyla's questioning look. "He's always that way when he's hungry."

Teyla arched her brows and nodded. "Ah. He must be hungry a lot then."

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

Almost an hour later, Teyla walked into the conference room. She looked around at the empty room and smiled slightly. As was her normal habit, she was first to arrive. Pulling out a chair, she settled into it and folded her hands on the table, before acknowledging Dr. Weir who arrived a moment later. More movement in the doorway caught her attention, as Major Sheppard joined them. She watched him walk into the conference room. His pace was even, his steps sure. To all outward appearances, he seemed normal but, to her, there was a tension lingering just under the surface. Subtle though it was, she could still see it in his posture and around his eyes, and sense it in his bearing. Teyla nodded in recognition as he made eye contact with her and smiled slightly. She glanced at Dr. Weir, who looked at the Major for a long moment, before once more staring down at her data pad. In that brief flash, Teyla had seen the same recognition in Weir's expression.

Once again, Teyla's gaze returned to the doorway as McKay and Ford both entered and took their seats.

Weir nodded at each of them. "Dr. Clarkston has been notified that the North Pier needs to be scheduled for surveying. He thinks his teams can get to it early next week." She scanned her data pad. "The only other thing I have is the trade agreements."

"Woefully inadequate to say the least!" McKay interrupted. "We're no longer on the verge of rationing, we are rationing!"

Teyla sighed. "Many are finding themselves in lean times, Dr. McKay. With the Wraith awakening everywhere, many trading partners have been heavily culled."

"Yes, yes, that's horrible," McKay snapped, "but what are we going to do?"

"Cut out of the chow line today?" Sheppard interjected quietly with an amused smile.

McKay glared at him. "Let's just say the portions were less than I'm used to!"

"Tighten your belt, Rodney, you'll be fine," the Major answered.

Teyla watched the verbal sparring. As many times as she'd seen it, she never understood how two grown men, both experts in their professions, could act so juvenile.

"Ever see what inadequate blood sugar does to higher brain function? It's not pretty!" McKay snapped.

"Gentlemen," Weir cut in, beating Sheppard to a reply. "Can we stay focused please?"

Teyla pulled on much of her training to keep from smiling at both men's expressions. She was reminded of the adolescent boys of her people when one of the elders reprimanded them.

"We knew this would happen when we broke ties with the Manarians," Weir added.

"They betrayed us to the Genii. I don't see where we had a choice," Sheppard insisted.

"The Major is right, ma'am."

Teyla heard Ford's agreeing words, but her gaze was fixed on Sheppard's hard expression.

"I know that, Lieutenant, and it was the right thing to do."

Teyla continued to watch Sheppard as his expression softened at Weir's agreement. "So," he asked her, "what do we do now?"

Teyla switched her gaze to Weir as the doctor turned to face her.

"Teyla, do you know anyone else we could trade with?"

Teyla sighed and sat back in her chair. Her mind searched through all the peoples she knew… everyone she and her father before her had traded with. They had visited some of the worlds already, and found the Wraith had arrived first. Then there were the Genii….

Teyla's thoughts lingered on their newest enemies. She'd been so sure they could be of help to the expedition team. But what they'd found had nearly destroyed them all. She carried some lingering guilt over introducing Sheppard and his team to them, and over the deaths that had resulted. It planted a whisper of doubt in her otherwise confident mind. But she denied its effects. "There is one other world which may be able to trade with us… if the Wraith have not already destroyed them."

"Good," Weir smiled. "Who are they?"

"The world is called Palla. My father traded with them when I was very young, but I remember them. The Pallans are a very simple, agrarian people. They are farmers and herders. My father enjoyed trading with them, and always found them to be fair partners."

"Anyone else sense the déjà vu here?" McKay broke in. "Didn't you say the same thing about the Genii?"

Teyla felt the whisper of guilt within her but kept her face neutral as she looked at the doctor. "No one regrets that more than I, Dr. McKay, but as you said, we need supplies."

"There's no way you could've known, Teyla." Sheppard smiled at her before turning a somber face to McKay. "Right, Rodney?"

McKay fidgeted slightly, but said nothing.

Weir nodded and pushed back from the table. "I'll talk to Carson and see what we can spare for trade. That's all."

Teyla stood and started towards the door.

"Teyla?"

Weir's voice stopped her. She watched as the others left the conference room before she turned and nodded at Weir.

"Major Sheppard is right. There was no way you could've known about the Genii. I hope you don't blame yourself for anything that happened."

Teyla inhaled deeply and smiled slightly. "It is all right, Dr. Weir. I realize that I could not have known." She started to turn away, but paused. She looked Weir in the eye and smiled. "Thank you."

Weir nodded and smiled back.

---------------------
Typing quickly on her data pad, Elizabeth exited the infirmary and started down the long hallway back to the control tower. She sighed and scanned the list of items Carson had given her. They'd already traded much of their medical supplies in previous agreements, and there wasn't a lot to spare. Combine that with what the Genii stole, and their stores were getting lean. She shook her head. The day was quickly coming that they'd have to find something else to trade with. She pursed her lips and kept walking. One catastrophe at a time…

"Elizabeth!"

She paused and looked behind her, watching as John trotted down the hallway to catch up with her. He smiled and fell in step as she once more walked down the corridor.

"Did Beckett give you a list of stuff we can trade with the Pallans?" John arched a brow and peeked at her data pad.

She glanced up at the hallway before looking back at her pad. "Hmm… yes. We can't keep trading medical supplies for much longer."

"Well, I've been thinking about that," John ventured. His right hand casually settled on his sidearm as he easily kept pace with her.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at his smug expression. "Oh? This doesn't involve nuclear bombs and C4, does it?"

His expression turned slightly sheepish. "No."

She smiled and tapped another button on her pad, pulling up her day's calendar. "Okay, I'm listening."

"Well, we have a lot of smart scientists around here. We could trade knowledge."

"Major, they're scientists, not farmers." Elizabeth glanced at him in amusement.

"Yeah," John smiled, "but we have a couple botanists who know a thing or two about plants, and I'll bet the engineers could build a pretty mean irrigation system if they put their minds to it."

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks, as John's words sank in. She looked at him as he stepped around to face her. "That's not a bad idea, Major." His coy smile brought a grin to her face.

"I've been known to have good ideas every once in a while."

She continued walking. "I don't know how receptive some of the scientists will be, though."

John shrugged. "Yeah, well, when they get hungry, they may change their minds."

Elizabeth arched her brows. "Hmm… good point." She stared at her day's schedule as she walked down the hallway, but something nagged at her. She looked up, realizing that John had fallen silent. She glanced at his pensive expression.

"What is it, Major?" She slowed her pace to match his hesitation, eventually stopping and facing him in the hallway.

John fidgeted slightly. "I think that I…." His voice trailed off. He sighed in resignation. "I want to go on this mission," he finally blurted.

Elizabeth inhaled slowly. "John…."

"Come on, Elizabeth. I'm going stir crazy. I need to get off world."

She met his pleading gaze with a neutral one, as she considered his words… and Heightmeyer's recommendation. John stepped closer to her, his imploring expression intensifying.

"There's nothing wrong with me. Besides, this is about as safe an off world mission as we could have, if that makes you feel any better." John's raised hands animated his words. "I've been back on light duty for four days… back on Atlantis for almost two weeks. I'm on active duty as of today. Besides, wouldn't you know by now if something was wrong?"

Elizabeth pursed her lips and squinted slightly at him. "Not necessarily." She watched John run a hand through his hair, his loud sigh and tense face betraying his level of frustration an instant before he turned away.

He walked a few steps and turned back to face her. "How will you ever know everything is okay, until you let me lead my team again?"

Elizabeth blinked hard and looked away. She shook her head at her conflicting feelings. Part of her listened to John, wanted to believe him… trusted him. But the other part heard Heightmeyer's words; remembered John's nightmare; dwelt on his ordeal; and felt hesitation over every one of those reasons.

"Elizabeth, please."

She returned her gaze to him. His expression was as beseeching as his words, and Elizabeth found herself unable to say no. They'd already been through so much, that she had learned early on that she had to trust him. This was no different. "Okay. You can go. Your team leaves at 0800 tomorrow morning."

John smiled broadly for a moment, before gratitude replaced his jovial expression. "Thanks." He nodded once at her before setting off down the hallway at a brisk walk.

Elizabeth watched him go, reservation once more whispering to her. "You're welcome," she muttered, "I think."

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

The scene that met John Sheppard's eyes as he emerged from the Stargate instantly brought a smile to his face. Perched strategically on the top of a steep, grassy hill, the gate overlooked a vast valley that nestled against rolling foothills and sweeping jagged peaks stretching into the horizon. John found himself rooted in place as he took in the majesty of the snow-capped mountains, and the quaint homeliness of the village that thrived in their shadow.

Still smiling, John glanced at Teyla, who stopped next to him, her expression mirroring his. He looked back out across the valley. "Oh, I could get used to this place."

Teyla nodded. "Yes, Major. The Pallans are a simple farming and herding people, but there is warmth in their hearts. Of all the peoples I have ever met, they are the most generous and open." She looked John in the eyes and smiled. "They will trade fairly with us."

Still gazing at the scenery, John nodded. "Sounds good."

John backed up a step and glanced down at Rodney's LSD. "Reading anything unusual?"

Rodney grunted and shook his head. "Not from here."

Sheppard nodded. "Okay. Teyla? You know these people. Lead the way." He looked back at Ford. "Lieutenant, bring up the rear."

Teyla nodded and started down a steep path away from the gate.

John inhaled a deep breath of the fresh air and followed along behind her. The warm sun on his back, and the serenity of the view that surrounded him, slowly pushed the tension from his body. After being cooped up on Atlantis for two weeks, getting off world was exactly what he needed.

Before long, the trail flattened out as the team started across the valley towards the village. The path widened, and showed signs of increased wear, and in the distance John heard voices. The grasslands around them gave way to cultivated fields, with people scattered through them, tending the crops.

Teyla halted abruptly and John almost ran into her as a half dozen animals, strongly resembling Earth sheep, trotted across the path in front of them. A few had large horns twisting in a circle around the sides of their heads, and their coats were brown, but beyond that, John could've sworn they were sheep.

Hot on the trail of the "sheep" a small boy ran behind them, wielding a long stick. He staggered to a stop in front of the team, his eyes widening in surprise.

John glanced at Teyla, who met his eyes briefly before smiling down at the boy. "It is all right. We are friends. I am Teyla Emmagan, I have come to visit Malfan. Do you know where he is?"

The boy relaxed slightly at the mention of the village elder. "He's tending fields. I can take you to him."

"Uhh…what about these?"

Rodney's irritated voice grabbed John's attention. He turned and stifled a laugh as one of the "sheep" brazenly walked up to Rodney and sniffed his knee. John smiled. "What about them?"

"You must smell good, McKay," Ford chuckled, his grin widening as the doctor fixed him with an annoyed stare.

"Oh yeah, this is very amusing." Rodney's voice took on a decided note of irritation as the animal not-so-gently butted his knee. "Did I mention that I hate livestock?"

"They seem to like you, Rodney," John commented, his hands resting casually on his P-90.

"The feeling is NOT mutual – Hey!" Rodney jumped and pushed emphatically on the head of the animal as it grabbed a chunk of his pants in its mouth. "Knock it off!" He swatted the animal's head.

The boy rushed to Rodney's aid. He pushed hard on the "sheep", forcing the animal away from the doctor.

"About time!" Rodney backed away, brushing at his knees. He glared at John and Ford, who were both still smiling. "Thanks for the help." He pulled his LSD from his vest and scanned the area, pointedly ignoring the rest of the team.

Using his stick, the boy quickly herded the errant animal back together with the rest of his flock and shooed them down the path. He looked back at the team. "Follow me. I will take you to Malfan."

John walked along next to the boy, glanced down at him and smiled. "I'm John. What's your name?"

The boy's innocent and toothy grin lit up his face. He gently poked one of the animals with his stick, and moved it along. "Pertus."

"Nice to meet you, Pertus." John nodded. He reached out, lightly smacking the rear end of one of the animals, encouraging it to keep up with the rest of the flock. He looked up and over the top of the short boy's head at Teyla. "How well do you know this Malfan?"

Teyla smiled fondly. "Very. My father traded with him. I have known him since I was very young. There was a time, when I was a child, when we visited the Pallans every season, but it has been many years since I have been here."

Before long, they came to the edge of the village. People bustled around them, but instead of regarding him and his team suspiciously, John was amazed at the open and friendly smiles that greeted him.

Pertus stopped, allowing his animals to mill around them. "Malfan is over there." He pointed to his right, across a wide field, at a figure in the distance. "I can't leave my flock to take you to him."

John squinted and stared across the vast field, and nodded. "Thanks, Pertus." He looked down at the boy and winked.

Pertus grinned back before once more herding his flock down the path through the village.

"Finally," Rodney muttered as he watched the boy and his flock move away.

"Relax, Rodney, they're only sheep… or something like sheep… they were just curious, that's all." John shrugged as he started across the tilled field.

"How very James Herriot of you," Rodney snapped.

John ignored Rodney as he made his way though the rich dirt towards a small group of people in the distance. As they got closer to the natives, John looked back at his Athosian team member. "Teyla? Malfan knows you. Take lead." He stopped, letting her pass him, before falling in behind her. As they approached the group of Pallans, the natives stopped their work and stared at them intently.

John hung back as Teyla walked confidently up to a gray-haired, older man and smiled warmly at him. "Malfan. It has been many days."

The man stared intently at her for a moment, before his eyes widened in recognition. "Teyla Emmagan!" He grinned as they touched foreheads in greeting. He pushed her back to arm's length and smiled warmly. "I told Tagon you would grow to be a beautiful woman. It warms my heart to see I was right."

"Malfan," Teyla smiled, "the years have been kind to you also." She turned slightly and gestured at John and the others. "These are my friends. They have come to trade. This is Major Sheppard, Doctor McKay and Lieutenant Ford."

Malfan stepped past Teyla and stopped in front of John. He smiled warmly and placed a trusting hand on John's shoulder. "Major."

John glanced at Teyla, who nodded encouragingly. Taking the cue, John nodded back and placed his right hand on Malfan's shoulder. "Call me John."

Malfan's smile widened and he nodded. "John."

Malfan repeated the process with Rodney and Ford before starting back across the field, gesturing at them to follow. "Come, its near midday. We can discuss our trade while we eat."

John fell in next to Malfan as the rest of the team followed along behind. John smiled as the older man looked over at him.

"What is it you wish to trade for, John?" Malfan asked.

"Food mostly." John shrugged. "Teyla's people are growing crops, but they aren't ready to harvest yet."

Malfan's expression turned curious. "You live on Athos with Teyla's people?"

John looked away, his smile fading. "No. The Wraith destroyed Athos. Teyla and her people live with us."

"That news saddens me, for the Athosians were good and honorable trading partners." He glanced at John. "Where do you live, John?"

John met Malfan's gaze with a friendly but guarded expression. "On a different planet."

Malfan nodded thoughtfully before he gave John a knowing look. "You do not completely trust me."

John's gaze narrowed as he regarded the Pallan elder. The man seemed honest and forthright, and John's gut told him to be the same. "I don't know you well enough to know whether I trust you or not, Malfan." He arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Malfan grinned and chuckled. "Well said, John. You are a cautious man." His smile faded. "With the Wraith waking, and once more bringing death to many worlds, you are wise to be cautious."

"Have the Wraith been here recently, Malfan?" Teyla interjected, her expression worried.

Malfan sighed. "No, but we hear word of severe cullings on many worlds from our trading partners." He reached out, squeezing Teyla's arm in reassurance. "They will eventually come. Until then, we will continue to live our lives as best we can."

"Malfan, we may be able to help you against the Wraith, in exchange for a share of your crops," John ventured quietly. The serenity he'd felt since arriving on this quaint world had rapidly given way to tense apprehension at the mention of the Wraith.

Soberly, Malfan looked at John. "That would be worth discussing." Silence descended on the group as they continued across the field.

As they exited the field, Malfan led them down a path to a small cottage set back from the rest. As he walked through the front door, John smiled and inhaled deeply. Simple but functional, the cottage held the warmth of a small fire crackling in the fireplace, and he instantly felt comfortable.

Malfan directed them to a sturdy table surrounded by two long and two short benches. "Please, my friends, be seated."

John unclipped his P-90 and sat directly to the left of Malfan, who sat at the head of the table. Rodney sat next to John, while Teyla sat opposite him, with Ford next to her.

John looked up, his eyes widening as a woman entered the room. She was tall and her features strong but proportionate. A few wisps of brunette hair had escaped the simple thong that held back the rest, and twisted in loose waves around her face. There was an air of strength about her that part of John found instantly attractive but, at the moment, he couldn't tear his eyes from her very pronounced belly. She appeared to be in the late stages of pregnancy, although her condition didn't seem to slow her down one bit.

Annoyance flickered in her green eyes as she scanned John's team before glaring at Malfan. "Father! You brought guests into this house without so much as a warning to me?"

Malfan winced before gesturing briefly. "My daughter, Brianor. Brianor, love, do you not recognize Teyla Emmagan?"

John smiled as all annoyance melted from Brianor's face and it lit up with a delighted smile. "Teyla!"

Teyla stood quickly and crossed the room to embrace the Pallan woman. She stepped back and looked down at Brianor's stomach. "You are with child. Congratulations." Teyla gestured at the table. "These are my companions."

John, Rodney and Ford all stood as Teyla led Brianor to the table and introduced them.

John gave Brianor a friendly smile as she paused in front of him.

"Major." She smiled sweetly.

"Call me John," he replied. "I'm sorry if we made any trouble for you."

Her smiled deepened. "It is alright, John." She flashed a mock serious look at Malfan. "As long as Father does not make a habit of it." She softened her words with a smile.

Malfan looked at John. "Brianor and Teyla played together as children, when Tagon came to trade." He looked affectionately at the two women. "They got into plenty of trouble too."

"Trouble?" Ford grinned openly.

John looked at Teyla. He tried to picture the disciplined Teyla Emmagan getting into childhood mischief, but just couldn't. "What sort of trouble?" His curiosity deepened at Teyla's uncomfortable expression.

"The sort I would undoubtedly get in trouble for telling you about," Malfan responded. "Perhaps that is best left to Teyla."

"Father, Teyla's first visit in so long, and you are making her uncomfortable in this house." Brianor lightly chastised Malfan before turning back towards the doorway. "Since you did not warn me of guests for our meal, I had best see what else I have to serve."

"Let me help you." Teyla hurried behind Brianor.

As the two women disappeared through the doorway, Malfan sighed and settled back into his seat. "She has spirit, that one." His expression turned reflective, a wistful smile gracing his face. "Much like her mother." Malfan glanced up at the obvious question in John's eyes. "My wife was taken by the Wraith when Brianor was very young. For one so young, my daughter bore it well. And her husband was killed in a fall in the mountains only a few months ago. Her strength in the face of such tragedies amazes me."

John sighed and nodded slightly. "I'm sorry."

"It is part of life." Malfan waved absently. "Many of our children grow up without one or both of their parents…. and many parents see their children taken, all because of the Wraith. It is difficult, but we learn to live with it."

John nodded silently, the low boiling anger within him, once again making its presence known. He'd spent most of his adult life fighting for what was right, and defending the innocent and helpless. To once again meet a race of people who had been forced to live with the horror of Wraith cullings angered him in a way he'd never experienced before arriving in Pegasus. He looked up, and into Malfan's thoughtful gaze. He drew in a deep breath and managed a small smile for the Pallan elder.

Malfan nodded back. "But come. Let us speak of trading."

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

An hour later, John and his team stood at the doorway of Malfan's home, the Pallan elder and his daughter standing with them.

"The first of the crops will be harvested in a few weeks, John. Several of the crops we discussed will be harvested in the weeks following. You and your people will need to return every few weeks for your share of the different harvests."

John smiled. "We'll bring the medicines we agreed to then." He nodded as Malfan placed his hand on John's shoulder.

"Agreed, my friend." Malfan smiled.

"Be well," Brianor added. She turned and embraced Teyla. "Do not stay away so long again, Teyla."

Teyla returned Brianor's embrace before stepping back and rejoining her team. "I will not. I will return when the harvests are ready. I expect your home will soon have a new addition." She glanced pointedly at Brianor's belly and smiled.

Brianor's hand came up to rest on her stomach and she grinned. "Yes, it is likely."

"Malfan, Brianor," John nodded, "take care. We'll be back in a few weeks." He turned away and started down the path back towards the gate, the rest of his team following behind.

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

"You know? I was here two weeks ago, and there was nothing worth my attention then," Rodney groused as he followed John, and Teyla down the narrow path away from the Stargate. Exactly why do I have to come back here again?"

"What's the matter, McKay? Don't you like the fresh air?"

Rodney turned and fixed Ford with an irritated look. "Oh yes, delightful." He sniffed dramatically. "Nothing like the smell of sheep sh…"

"They're not really sheep, Rodney," John deftly interrupted him.

The doctor grimaced. "Whatever! Look, as much as I'm sure you enjoy my company, there are more important things on Atlantis I could be doing right now."

"Oh yeah, that's right, you're indispensable," Ford quipped. His smile broadened at Rodney's icy stare.

"Sure, fine. You joke about it only because it's true," Rodney shot back. "Manual labor really isn't my thing."

"What labor?" Ford countered. "The Pallans do most of the work. They take the crops to the Gate. We dial Atlantis. When our people come through with our half of the trade, the Pallans take it back. What are you complaining about?"

"Gee, could it be the waste of my time?" Rodney snapped. His attention returned forward as John stopped abruptly and walked back to him. He stared at the Major's serious expression. "What?"

"You're a member of my team, McKay. That means when we go off world, you go too." John's gaze narrowed. "You don't get to pick and choose your missions, got it?"

Rodney fidgeted slightly and looked away for a moment before he nodded, biting back any cynicism. "Got it."

John glared at him for another moment, before turning away and once more heading down the hill towards the Pallan village.

Rodney took a moment to glance at Teyla, whose concerned expression mirrored what he was feeling. "What the hell was that?"

Teyla quirked an eyebrow and shrugged at him before starting after the Major.

"Don't know," Ford replied quietly, "but you might want to ease up, McKay."

Rodney's irritation swiftly returned. "Oh, thank you, Dr. Freud."

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

John looked up, the tension draining from his body and a small smile forming on his mouth as he took in the trees around him. The path to the Pallan village was rapidly becoming familiar to him, and it was a familiarity he embraced. The dirt trail beneath his feet gradually leveled and widened as the trees overhead thickened and cast a shadowy but comforting dimness over the path. John looked around, his smile lingering. This was his favorite part of the trek from the gate to the village. He had no clue how old the trees around him were, but they towered above him, their branches crossing overhead creating almost a tunnel over the path. Narrow streams of sunlight worked their way through the branches, sporadically creating delicate slices of light on the ground around him. It was still early in the Pallan morning, and John could smell a fresh mist in the air.

He pulled in a deep breath through his nose. Something about this place… these people, agreed with him. They had a simple and caring but strong way about them that cut through the complexities that seemed to muddy his life lately. In the Pallans, John saw what was important, and every trip here grounded him… reminded him of that.

Gradually, the trees gave way to the open, cultivated fields surrounding the Pallan village. John nodded, waving occasionally at villagers working in the fields as they acknowledged him. From the beginning, the Pallans had been nothing but open and warm with him and his team. They were a trusting society, and part of him envied that immediate and open trust.

"Major Sheppard!"

John turned, a wide grin splitting his face as a young boy ran his direction. "Pertus!" He smiled down at the youth and tousled his hair. The boy had met up with them on every visit. John's smile widened, as he glanced around at his companions' fond looks. Pertus had endeared himself to everyone on the team, including McKay, although the doctor would never admit it.

"You have come to see Malfan?" Pertus asked.

John nodded. "Yes, do you know where he is?"

"I saw him on the path to his cottage not long ago, maybe he's there?" Pertus shrugged. "I have to find my flock in the hills, or I'd help you." He frowned in disappointment.

"That's okay," John reassured the boy. "We'll find him. We'll be here for a while yet, don't worry. Go on."

Pertus' mouth split into a wide, toothy grin. "I'll find you when I'm done!" He turned and ran a few steps before stopping and looking back. "I won't be long!"

John's amused grin followed the boy as he dashed down the wide road towards the distant foothills.

"I don't think I ever had that much energy. " Rodney smiled as he also watched the retreating youth.

John quirked an eyebrow at the doctor. "I don't think so either."

Annoyed, Rodney slumped his shoulders and shot John an irritated look, to which John only smiled back.

Without a word, John started down the road again. Before long, he turned off the wide, main thoroughfare and walked down the narrow path to Malfan's cottage. He paused at the door and looked back at Teyla. "Should I knock?"

Teyla smiled patiently. "Major, that Earth custom is not practiced here."

John signed. "I know that, Teyla, but I can't just…" he waved his hands emphatically, "barge in."

Teyla's smile broadened. "Malfan?" she called. "It is Teyla Emmagan. I am here with Major Sheppard, Lieutenant Ford and Dr. McKay."

John cocked his head and glanced at the door before looking back at Teyla. He could hear sounds within the cottage, but the door remained closed. "Malfan? It's John Sheppard." His attention returned to the door as it abruptly opened. John instantly sensed the haggard and tense air that surrounded Malfan. He took a step forward, his hand slightly outstretched. "Malfan? Is everything okay?"

A small smile of relief crossed Malfan's face. "My friends. Yes, it is all right… now. I am sorry, I am very tired."

John nodded slightly. "That's okay." His gaze narrowed. "What happened?"

Malfan sighed. "It is Brianor…."

"Is she all right?" Teyla interrupted, her voice tense.

"Yes," Malfan nodded. "Now. She was in labor for two days, only to give birth last night. It was not yet her time, but I fear my daughter over-extended herself and brought her labor on prematurely. It was a breech birth. Korban, our healer, nearly lost the child."

"But, they're okay now," John asked quietly, searching for reassurance.

"Yes." Malfan stepped aside. "Please, come in."

John hesitated. "Malfan, if it's okay with you, I could ask our doctor to come and examine them. Just to be sure."

Malfan's gaze was uncertain as he quickly looked from John to Teyla to McKay then back to John. "I do not see why. Korban is here…."

"Malfan," Teyla's voice was quiet and reassuring. "The Major's people have much knowledge about these things, more than you or I, or even Korban. They wish to help. Let them."

Malfan stared a long moment at Teyla before nodding slightly. "Your share of the recent harvest is ready for you in the village square also, John."

John nodded. "That's great." He turned and looked at Ford. "Lieutenant, take the Pallans and our current trade and head back to the gate. Contact Atlantis, let Weir know what's going on, and see if Beckett's up to a house call." John smiled slightly.

"Yes, sir," Ford nodded once, curtly, and walked briskly back down the path.

John led his team into the cottage. He looked across the room, and flashed a small smile at a Pallan man who walked up to him.

"Korban," Malfan stepped around John. "This is Major Sheppard, Teyla Emmagan and Dr. McKay." Malfan smiled slightly at John. "Korban is our healer."

John nodded once at the healer before glancing at Malfan.

"She is awake, if you wish to visit her," Malfan suggested as he smiled at Teyla. He looked up at John. "All of you."

John nodded slightly. "Lead the way." As he followed along behind Malfan to the back of the cottage, his thoughts turned reflective. Brianor could have died, and with her the child. John shook his head slightly, the fragility of life once again assaulting him. They could've helped. Beckett had the skills, Atlantis had the resources… if they'd only known. Frustration welled in him. If only the Pallans had a way to contact Atlantis, to ask for help… to get help….

John's thoughts were derailed as Malfan slowly opened the back door and led them into a small room. He stepped around Malfan and got his first look at Brianor.

Propped up against a stack of pillows, Brianor was pale. Her face was lined with exhaustion, and weakness surrounded her. John saw the shadowed memories of pain in her expression, and felt all the more frustrated for it. So much of her pain could've been avoided, lessened… stopped. If he and his team… if Atlantis, had only known. Carefully, they had sown a budding friendship with Malfan and his people, yet when Malfan needed help, John hadn't been there… he hadn't been able to help someone he'd called his friend.

John pushed away his dark emotions and smiled slightly at Brianor, as Teyla immediately approached the bed.

"Brianor," Teyla took Brianor's hand and squeezed it gently. "I am relieved to see that you are well. Your father told us what happened."

"I'm sorry we weren't here to help," John muttered. He felt his dark expression lighten as Brianor smiled warmly at him.

"How could you have known, John?" Brianor smiled at him for another minute before turning her warm expression on Teyla. "It was difficult, but I am fine." She turned and gestured to a solid crib that sat next to her bed. "As is my son."

For the first time, John's attention was drawn from the Pallan woman to the small crib. He felt a grip on his arm and glanced at Malfan, who walked towards the crib, towing John along.

Brianor's expression turned slightly admonishing. "He is sleeping, father. Do not wake him."

Malfan smiled tolerantly at his daughter. "Of course not." He stopped next to the crib and beamed proudly. "My grandson."

John looked down into the crib and smiled widely despite his dark mood. He couldn't believe how small the sleeping infant was, and the child's peaceful expression warmed John's heart. He felt a presence near him and looked over his shoulder as Rodney walked up next to him.

"Huh," Rodney's unimpressed grunt was quiet. "He's all… wrinkly."

John blinked hard and glanced sideways. "He's a newborn." John stared incredulously at Rodney. "And keep your voice down."

"Fine," Rodney snapped quietly. His expression softened. "He is kind of cute."

John rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stepped around Malfan and stood next to Brianor's bed. His smile was small. "How are you feeling?"

Brianor sighed. "Tired." She returned his smile. "But, I will be fine, John."

John nodded, his smile lingering, its effects warming the chilled anger that seemed to follow him everywhere these days. He turned away from the cold. "Our doctor is coming from Atlantis to take a look at you and your child, Brianor, if that's alright. Just to make sure you're both okay."

Brianor's expression turned slightly hesitant. She glanced at Korban, who looked questioningly at Malfan.

Malfan smiled slightly. "Their knowledge is much greater than ours," he said quietly.

Reassured, Korban nodded silently as Brianor once again smiled at John. "Thank you."

John looked down as Brianor took his hand and squeezed firmly. He returned the gesture, and brought his other hand up, covering hers. "You're welcome." A quiet fussing coming from the crib distracted his attention. He looked over his shoulder towards the crib before glancing back at Brianor, who sighed quietly.

"He is hungry again." She smiled. "Will you hand him to me, John?"

John's eyes widened in mild panic. "Me?" He looked imploringly towards Teyla who just shrugged in mild amusement.

"Spoken like a true bachelor," Rodney quipped.

John looked over his shoulder and glared briefly at Rodney. "Maybe you'd like to do it?"

Rodney's expression turned slightly panicked. "Uh… no." He backed away from the crib.

The baby's fussing grew louder and Teyla sighed loudly in response as she started to stand.

John raised his hand. "No, that's okay, I got it…." He looked down in the crib. "I think…." He swallowed hard and slid his hands under the small infant. He pursed his lips nervously and straightened. One hand behind the infant's neck and supporting the tiny body, John carefully wrapped the blanket around the crying child and shifted the newborn into the crook of his elbow. He looked down, smiling as the infant quieted.

Malfan looked over John's shoulder. "You are a natural to this, John."

John grinned. "Thanks," he whispered. He stared down at the infant as a rush of emotion flowed over him. He could feel the warmth of the child, his little squirms… his life, and it filled him with wonder. The infant was so tiny, so helpless… but so amazing. The child wasn't his, yet John felt a strong sense of protection within him. He reached up with his free hand and gently traced a finger over the baby's warm cheek. In his arms was life. Small and helpless, but it was life, and he wanted nothing more than to protect it. Reflection settled over him. He'd seen so much death since arriving in Pegasus… so many people had died, so much life had been extinguished, that to see life created… to see it begin right before his eyes, brought balance to John… and cleansed his spirit more completely than he thought possible. He felt unfamiliar emotions within him as he wondered, for the first time in his life, what it was like to be a father.

John leaned over and carefully handed the child to Brianor. Part of him regretted letting go, and it sent a wave of amusement through him. He grinned as his thoughts were interrupted by a crackle in his radio.

"Major Sheppard this is Dr. Beckett, do ye read me?"

John reached up and tapped his radio. "This is Sheppard, go ahead, Doc."

"Lieutenant Ford and I have just come through the gate and are on our way to ye. How are our patients?"

John smiled down at Brianor. "They seem fine, Doc, but I'll let you be the judge of that."

"Aye." Beckett responded. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Beckett out."

"Copy that, Sheppard out." John looked up as Malfan headed for the door. He reached behind and tugged lightly on Rodney's vest. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Rodney's tone was slightly annoyed.

John stared a moment at Rodney. "It's lunchtime for this little guy," he gestured down at the bed. "Don't you think they need a little privacy?"

Realization dawned on Rodney and his eyes widened in response. "Oh! Right." He quickly walked around the end of the bed and followed Malfan from the room.

John chuckled. He looked down at Teyla then to Brianor. "We'll be outside."

John didn't have to stand long in the cottage before a quiet knock on the door caught his attention. He smiled at Malfan's confused expression. "That's probably our people."

Malfan opened the door, admitting Ford and Beckett.

John nodded at Beckett as the doctor crossed the room. "Doc." He led them across the cottage and stopped just outside the door to Brianor's room. "Teyla?" He called through the door. "Beckett's here."

"Come in, Major," Teyla answered.

John opened the door and stepped through, then out of the way of Beckett who sighed and looked at the entourage standing just outside the door expectantly.

"Bloody convention," Beckett muttered. He looked at John. "Major, can I have some privacy with the lass and her wee one?"

"Of course," Malfan interrupted as he smiled at Beckett. The elder headed back across the cottage, motioning at Rodney and Ford to follow him.

"Please, I would like to stay and learn from you?" Korban's gaze was slightly imploring.

"Korban's a healer," John quickly supplied.

"Ah," Beckett nodded. "Lovely. You can stay. Teyla too. But that's it." He turned away and shrugged out of his backpack.

John smiled and shook his head at the doctor. Nodding once at Teyla, he exited the room.

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

Immersed in discussions over the Atlantis and Pallan trade agreement, at first John didn't notice the back door even open. Movement caught his eye as Beckett, Teyla and Korban walked across the room. John felt relief wash through him at Beckett's easy and relaxed expression. "They're fine?"

Beckett nodded at John before smiling at Malfan. "Aye, they're both just fine. I'd like to see Brianor take it easy for at least a few days, maybe a week, but they're both healthy."

"Thank you, Doctor." Malfan smiled warmly at Beckett.

"Doctor," Korban smiled at Beckett. "You have much knowledge that I do not. Thank you for the chance to learn some of it."

Beckett smiled back. "I'm glad I could help." He glanced for a moment at John, before looking back to Korban. "We may be able to arrange for some medical training, Korban, if you are interested."

Korban stared back for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Yes, I would like that very much, thank you." The healer's gaze jumped from one person to another before settling on Malfan. "I must take my leave now." He turned and left the cottage.

John glanced at the doctor and chuckled. He shook his head dismissively at Beckett's questioning expression. "Traveling through a wormhole to make house calls. Not exactly what you signed up for, is it, Doc?"

Beckett's chuckle joined John's. "Aye, I suspect we're all doing things we didn't expect."

Abruptly, John's smile disappeared, and with it all the ease and happiness he felt. Unbidden… unwelcome, memories flashed through his mind.

Over the top of his raised gun, John arched a humorless brow at the male Wraith, a menacing smile forming on his mouth as he pushed down his emotions, smothering them with iron cold control. "I don't think so." The Wraith's expression turned to one of shock in the instant before John opened fire.

"Major?"

Two Wraith approached John and waved silently for him to stand.

Drawing a deep breath, he slowly pulled his legs under himself. Springing to his feet, he buried his fist in the gut of one of the guards, the force of his entire body behind it.

"Are ye alright?"

Beckett's concerned voice barely reached John as his mind raced….

The Wraith growled and stepped back as the two guards advanced on him. Before John could react, one of the guards raised his stunner and fired.

The force of the blast staggered John, but to his surprise, unconsciousness didn't overtake him. For an instant, his body was numb… then the pain came. As if thousands of needles had been stabbed into him simultaneously. John felt like he was on fire. A strangled cry escaped him as he fell to his knees.

John swallowed hard and glanced at Beckett's concerned expression. "I need some air." He started to walk away, only to feel Beckett's hand on his arm.

"Major, what is it?"

Shrugging out of Beckett's grip, he turned away. "Nothing," he muttered, before swiftly exiting the cottage.

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

John sighed before drawing in a deep breath of the late morning air. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and slowly walked up the path away from Malfan's house. At the road, he paused, staring at the grasslands that stretched away from the opposite side of the road. Unconsciously, his hand came up to rest on his P-90 as he quickly crossed the path and started through the knee length grass. Bending over as he walked, John swiped a thick piece of grass. He shook his hand as the seed head shed all over his fingers. He felt dampness on his legs as the grass, still heavy with dew, brushed against his pants, but he continued walking. The cold dew matched his mood. He stopped suddenly and rolled the blade of grass between his thumb and forefinger. His mind pushed, vainly trying to rid itself of the images and feelings that plagued him, but for all his efforts, John couldn't escape. All the joy… the happiness… the contentment he'd felt holding Brianor's son was gone. In its place, was the pain and darkness that had routinely haunted him since his rescue.

Slowly, John walked on, leaving the Pallan village behind him. He felt like a dark cloud followed him wherever he went and influenced whatever he did. Again, he dwelt on the men he'd lost before, and again, he refused to see the latest casualty as any different. It was so clear… so perfectly explained in his head, that, oddly, it left him dumbfounded. There were consequences associated with command choices… repercussions from the deaths of Cooper and Bower, that he had to live with… had to accept. He'd done it before… and a decisive voice within him said he'd do it again. The memories and flashbacks bothered him the most. Wasn't he entitled to one moment of happiness? Of contentment? Of joy?

Tension naturally gave way to anger as he chastised himself for dwelling on the past. He couldn't change what had happened, and thinking about it served no purpose. Irritated, he clenched his fingers, crushing the delicate shoot of grass between them. Whatever was trying to make this different was an excuse… and he wasn't going to let it beat him.

A commotion at the distant tree line derailed his thoughts. He reflexively lifted his P-90 as he scanned the trees, looking for the source of the noise. He felt adrenaline rush through him as his eyes darted around. His grip on his gun tightened as the disturbance drew closer and grew louder. Slowly, he walked towards the tree line as he flipped off the safety on the P-90.

Motion at the edge of the trees stopped him in his tracks. He drew in a deep breath and relaxed as half a dozen "sheep" burst through the trees, Pertus hot on their heels. The small boy was furiously trying to keep control, but the unruly animals stubbornly ran on ahead of him, despite his efforts.

John smiled in mild amusement. "Kid needs a sheepdog," he muttered, switching the P-90's safety back on before he jogged across the field at an angle that would put him at the head of the small flock. Still about fifty yards ahead of the "sheep", John stopped. He cocked an amused eyebrow, pulled his 9 mil and quickly fired two shots in the air. He grinned as the animals, confused by the loud unfamiliar noise ahead of them, stopped in their tracks.

John holstered his sidearm and watched as Pertus slowed to a walk and quietly circled around the flock. Ford's voice over John's headset grabbed his attention.

"Major? We heard gunfire. What's your situation?"

John reached up and tapped the call button. "Everything's fine, Lieutenant. Just helping Pertus herd his sheep."

"Oh great. You didn't kill any of them, did you?" Rodney's sarcastic voice broke into the conversation.

John rolled his eyes. "Funny. I'll be back in a few minutes. Sheppard out." He looked down as Pertus, still panting from his mad dash, walked over.

"You stopped them! What is that?" he pointed at John's holstered gun. "Can I see it?"

John's blood turned to ice water at Pertus' innocent expression. His grip on his holstered side arm tightened, the cold metal biting his palm. It was lethal, with the capacity to kill instantly… something Pertus was blissfully ignorant of. But John knew…. He knew it was lethal, knew it killed….

Pulling his 9mm sidearm, John stood over the unconscious corporal and emptied a clip into another Wraith guard, who also fell.

John swallowed hard and drew in a deep breath as his gaze fixed on Pertus' untainted expression. The naivety he saw wasn't a thinly veiled cover for thoughts… memories that shattered the purity of a soul. Pertus' innocence ran true. Part of John envied it, but part of him panicked at the idea of Pertus losing any of it. "No." John's reply was abrupt as he stepped back.

Hesitation replaced the innocence on Pertus' face. "Okay," he replied quietly.

John sighed, forcing his overreaction under control. He found a small smile. "But you're welcome for helping with your flock."

Pertus bit his lower lip and nodded, some of the hesitation leaving his face. "Thank you. The cool weather late in the year makes them feel good after the hot season."

John nodded. "I'll bet. You need any more help?"

His expression a cross between amazement and admiration, Pertus smiled up at John. "No, I can do it." He turned away and made quiet noises at the animals as he gently prodded the closest one with his stick. He looked back as his flock continued across the field, this time at a much slower pace. "'Bye, Major Sheppard!"

John held his small smile and waved. "'Bye, Pertus!" He inhaled deeply and watched the boy and his flock for a minute, before turning and heading back to Malfan's cottage.

Ford, McKay and Teyla were waiting outside the house as John walked down the path towards them. He nodded once at the Lieutenant and glanced at the door as it opened. Malfan walked out to join them. He smiled warmly at each of them, before settling his strong grip on John's shoulder.

A smile turned one corner of John's mouth, as he stared back at the Pallan elder.

Malfan's face radiated warmth as he smiled at John. "Your people are generous, John. It is a privilege to know you." Malfan's grip on John's shoulder tightened. "I hope this is the beginning of a long friendship between you and I… and our peoples."

John's half smile turned to a full one as he grasped Malfan's shoulder in response. "Me too, Malfan." He held the elder's gaze for a moment before stepping back.

"You are owed more of our upcoming harvest," Malfan glanced at each of John's team members. "If you return in two weeks, we will have it ready."

John nodded. "Sounds good. We'll be back then." John hesitated for a moment, before he slowly extended his hand. "Take it," he nodded at Malfan. "This is how we show our friendship where I come from."

Malfan hesitated a moment, before firmly taking John's hand.

"Two weeks." John broke his grip and stepped back. He looked at his team. "Let's go."

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

Elizabeth slowly walked down the stairs into the Gateroom as Major Sheppard and his team emerged through the Stargate. She sidestepped the supplies from Palla, already being removed from in front of the Stargate by Atlantis personnel, and stopped in front of John and Beckett. A smile formed on her face as she took in their easy, relaxed expressions. "Everything went well with the Pallan woman and her child?"

John smiled and glanced at Beckett, who replied, "Aye. They're both just fine."

Elizabeth nodded. "Well done, Carson, as usual."

Beckett shifted his pack on his shoulder, repositioning it. "I didn't do much, just examined them, but thank you. Excuse me." He walked away, leaving her alone with John.

Elizabeth looked around at the various crates of harvested food from Palla. She turned her attention to the Major. "This is going to help a lot. Is there more?"

John slowly started across the Gateroom and she followed along next to him. "Yeah, it'll be ready in two weeks. Malfan asked if we could come back then."

"That should be fine," she responded. Elizabeth glanced at John's preoccupied expression as they approached the stairs. "Is something wrong, Major?"

John stopped at the base of the stairs, one foot resting on the bottom step as he met her questioning expression with a pensive one of his own. "It was a breech."

"What?" Confusion colored Elizabeth's voice.

John sighed and fixed her with a solemn expression. "Brianor's baby. He was premature and breech." John shook his head once and looked up the staircase. "They both almost died."

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before pursing her lips and nodding. "I'm glad they didn't." Knowing there was more to this than what John was saying, she kept her tone carefully neutral.

John stared back for a moment and sighed. "The Pallans are… different than the other races we've met… except the Athosians… I don't mean they're like the Athosians, they're not… sort of… but they are…."

"John," Elizabeth interrupted his rambling. "What are you driving at?"

John grimaced and stared up at the command deck as he thought for a moment, before he gave her a confident look. "The Pallans are our friends…. I'd even call them allies, like the Athosians. And if they're our allies, then they deserve to be able to contact us if they need to… if they need help."

Elizabeth's eyes widened slightly as she stared back at him. Since arriving in Pegasus, they'd made many enemies, but they'd also made some friends. With the exception of the Athosians, this was the first time John had ever made a suggestion like this. "They've really won you over," she replied quietly.

"They're our friends, Elizabeth, it's only fair," John insisted.

Elizabeth shook her head. "We have lots of friends, John…."

John arched an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, we have a few friends," she amended, "but you've never suggested something like this before."

"We could've helped Brianor. Hell, we could help all of them if they ever need it. Isn't that what friends do for each other?" John looked away and inhaled sharply. "According to Teyla's connections, their sector of the galaxy is being heavily culled right now. They may need somewhere to go…"

"John," Elizabeth interrupted, "we can't take in every refugee in the galaxy. We're having a hard enough time taking care of ourselves."

John returned the favor. "I'm not asking you to take in everyone in the galaxy, Elizabeth!" He exhaled slowly. "I'm just asking you to help the Pallans."

Elizabeth shook her head and looked away for a moment. He was so convincing, but then again, John always was… whether he was right or not. As if he sensed her hesitation, John's voice broke her thoughts.

"Meet them."

Mildly surprised, Elizabeth stared back at him.

John smiled. "You're always complaining that you never get to go off world, well, now's your chance. Come with us when we go back. Meet them. Get to know them. Then make your decision. Fair enough?" John arched both brows at her.

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head, before nodding at him. "Okay. Fair enough."

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

John sighed in disgust and pushed his data pad away from him and across the small desk he was working at. Up to my eyeballs in paperwork… okay data pad work… He sighed again. It had been a week since he'd been on Palla… a week since he'd been off Atlantis, and John chafed at the restriction. More than just cabin fever, daily he'd been forced to watch the other teams go on recon missions, supply trades and other off world missions. John briefly thought of all the times he'd complained at the boredom of off world trade agreements. Now, he'd about kill just to go on one. Anything to get off world.

John chuckled cynically. "Off world," he muttered. Standing, he crossed the balcony and leaned heavily on the railing. For a moment, his gaze drifted across the Gateroom to the control deck and Elizabeth's office, both opposite his position. He could just make out Elizabeth, hunched over her desk, buried in work, as usual. His gaze wandered before fixing on the inactive Stargate. Off world… Again, he smiled cynically. Less than a year ago, the thought of going "off world" didn't even exist in his wildest dreams, yet now he found it was something he was loath to give up.

John's thoughts turned once more to his forced inactivity. Anger boiled in him, and with it frustration. He should be off world. He should be doing his job, not chained to a desk working out security rotations. His grip on the balcony's railing tightened and his gaze again fixed on Elizabeth's office. He had to find a way to show her he was okay, to convince her he could go off world again.

John started towards her office, only to stop in his tracks. He could feel the frustration churning within him, and knew he wore it on his face as well. If Elizabeth caught wind of it, the discussion would be done before it ever got started. John sighed, pushing down his anger and smothering it with the best calm and relaxed expression he could muster. After a minute he continued towards her office, his pace easy and relaxed… on the outside, anyway.

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

Elizabeth looked up from her laptop as she caught sight of motion in her doorway.

"Knock, knock," John leaned casually on the doorframe, and smiled at her.

She returned the expression. "Come in." She watched him cross the room and settle into a chair opposite of her. "What's up?" Slightly puzzled by his pensive expression, She folded her hands on her desk. "John?"

John sighed. "Let me go off world."

Elizabeth arched her brows. "You do go off world, John, to Palla, when needed." She knew what he meant was so much more, but stared evenly back at him anyway.

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," John quietly replied. He drummed his fingers quickly on the armrests of his chair. "I don't get why I'm still on restricted duty!"

"John, I shouldn't even be letting you go to Palla! Dr. Heightmeyer wants more time to be sure you're okay, that's all. Be patient." Her gaze narrowed as his relaxed expression cracked slightly.

"Patient?" John snapped. "I've been patient. I keep telling you I'm fine. When are you going to listen to me instead of Heightmeyer?"

"Beckett, too," Elizabeth added. She refused to react when John sighed in irritation.

"Fine! Beckett, too." He pushed up out of the chair and paced the office. "So I guess my opinion doesn't matter?"

"John, you're not being fair." Elizabeth stood, but stayed behind her desk. She watched the pacing Major intently. "You had a hell of an ordeal! Just give it some time." She fought not to recoil as John abruptly stopped and fixed her with an intense, almost menacing stare.

"Don't tell me how hellish my ordeal was." His voice lowered to a dangerously quiet tone. "Don't you think I know?"

Elizabeth's gaze narrowed at his dangerous expression. As much as she wanted to believe that he was fine, flashes such as this, hinting at deep-rooted anger, grounded her in reality. "No one is questioning that, believe me. But I'm sure you can understand why we're so hesitant."

A humorless, cynical smile flashed across his face. "Not particularly, no. I know my own head, Elizabeth. Believe me when I tell you, I'm fine."

Elizabeth pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. "No, John. Right now, I think we may know you better than you know yourself."

John pulled in a rapid breath, the anger on his face barely in check. "Damn it," he hissed, before turning and storming out her door.

Elizabeth watched him go, her gaze following him as he crossed the command room and exited out onto the Deck. She sat and stared at her laptop, but concentration eluded her. A voice inside of her urged her to pull John even from the Pallan missions, but she resisted. Every time he returned from Palla, he seemed almost himself, and Elizabeth was hesitant to endure what may happen is she removed that element from his life at this moment. She fought the urge to go to him, to try and talk some sense into him, knowing that, right now, he was in no mood to discuss anything.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. Experience dealing with the sometimes-brash Major had taught her one very important thing: in situations like this, you should give John Sheppard fifteen minutes before you tried to reason with him. Not particularly a hot head, Elizabeth reflected, but nonetheless very passionate in his beliefs. Still, that passion was tempered by a quick and agile mind, and an abundance of intelligence, combined with a unique ability to see other's points of view and think outside the box. He might be stubborn and act only on what he thought was right, but she knew that didn't mean that he didn't understand someone else's opinion.

So she sat at her desk, staring uselessly at her laptop, occasionally glancing at the far exterior door, for a good ten minutes before she allowed herself to go after him. Crossing the command room, she hesitated in front of the exterior door for a moment, and then reached up and lightly tapping the door crystal. She stepped out onto the warm Deck and stopped as the door closed behind her.

John was turned away from her his body tense and still. Elizabeth sighed. "John?" She watched as the Major remained motionless. "John? Please talk to me." Her plea fell on deaf ears as John refused to move… refused to turn and face her.

Elizabeth sighed and crossed the Deck to him. Reaching out, she lightly touched him on the shoulder. "John, I…."

John's reaction to her hand on his shoulder caught her completely off guard. She stumbled hard as he whirled around and pushed her violently away from him. Barely catching her balance, Elizabeth looked up… and straight into the barrel of John's 9mil. handgun. She froze, swallowing hard as terror surged through her. "John." Her whispered voice shook as she stared at him.

Abruptly, the hard, dangerous expression on John's face lifted, to be replaced by confusion. "Elizabeth?" John's gaze fixed on his gun as his eyes widened in shock. "Damn it." He quickly lowered the weapon. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" He holstered his sidearm, his hand revealing a slight shake.

"I didn't sneak up on you!" Elizabeth gasped, acutely aware of the pounding of her heart.

John turned away. He grabbed the Deck railing with both hands and leaned heavily on it. His shoulders heaved as he took several deep breaths. "I didn't know you were there." John shook his head. "You startled me."

"Startled you?" Elizabeth was unable to keep the shock from her voice. "You pulled your gun on me, Major!"

John whirled and faced her, his fast movements causing her to back up a step. She stared at him. His eyes darted around the deck, as he pulled in rapid breaths. His brows furrowed and he pursed his lips, as he appeared to be struggling to find the right words.

At last, his gaze fixed on hers. He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry."

Now it was Elizabeth's turn to look away and shake her head. "John…." She looked back at him, her voice hardening slightly. "If I didn't think the Pallan missions were helping you, I'd bench you right now, Major." She waited a moment, but when John didn't reply, she softened her tone and continued. "You really should talk to Heightmeyer." She raised her hand as John opened his mouth to protest. "No, don't say anything. I won't make it an order… yet. Because I'd like you to want to talk to her." Elizabeth's gaze turned slightly pleading as she stared hard at him. "Think about what you just did, John, and then at least think about talking to Heightmeyer." Without another word, Elizabeth turned and left him standing alone on the Deck.