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.

7. Book III Chapter II

Kelin led John through the settlement, past the last tents and out into a grassy field. Set to one side, against the nearby tree line, a spacious, square area, designated by large rocks, grabbed John's attention. He arched an eyebrow as Kelin made a beeline for it, stepped between two of the bordering rocks, and crossed to a box situated at one end of the practice area. About knee height, the box was about five feet long. The hair-free hide that covered it held a soft gleam.

John came up next to Kelin and ran a hand over the skin. He rubbed his fingers together, surprised at the oily residue on his fingertips. He looked down, noticing how the morning dew had beaded on the surface of the skin. He smiled.

Kelin peeled back the skin. "It is to keep the moisture out." He opened the box and pulled out a set of fighting sticks. Handing them to John, he reached in and grabbed another set, before closing the box and repositioning the oilskin.

John's gaze fixed on the sticks. Memories pulled at him.

Fighting… Teyla….

John pushed the memories away and turned, his eyes widening at a makeshift practice dummy suspended by a thick rope from a long heavy tree branch that hung out over the practice area. "Nice idea," he commented quietly, to which Kelin smiled and nodded.

"Yes. That is one of the reasons this spot was chosen for the practice field."

John shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over one of the rocks as he walked towards the practice dummy. He absently twirled the sticks in his hands, getting a feeling for their balance. In the middle of the practice area, he turned, watching as Kelin also twirled his sticks. The sticks never leaving his hands, John worked through some basic stretches, warming up his muscles for the spar, while Kelin did the same.

Feeling loose, John stood up straight, shook each leg absently, and assumed a defensive pose, as Kelin lifted his sticks and nodded at John.

"Defend yourself, Major," Kelin said quietly.

John stiffened, his concentration momentarily broke by Kelin's words.

"Defend yourself…."

John's memories flashed by him again. He could see Teyla circle him, her sticks ready, her agile attack….

His attack on her.

A hard thump on one of his sticks sent a painful shock up his arm and snapped him back to the present. He inhaled sharply, his concentration returning to Kelin.

"Major, this will not be an effective spar if you do not concentrate," Kelin admonished lightly. His smile turned slightly challenging. "I will not be so forgiving again."

John inhaled deeply and nodded. "Sorry." He twirled one stick and slowly circled opposite Kelin's motion. Facing off with Kelin, John forced himself to concentrate, trying to read the man's next move.

A flurry of blows suddenly came at John, and he found himself backpedaling, trying to stay ahead of Kelin's offense. Abruptly, Kelin slipped inside his guard and delivered a one, two succession that smacked down both of John's sticks. Kelin spun and delivered a stunning blow to the back of John's leg, and he felt his knees buckle. He landed hard on his knees. "Ouch! Damn it!" He let himself settle back on his heels as he looked up at Kelin, who patiently stood nearby, a vaguely smug look on his face. "Nice move."

Kelin nodded once. "Your defense has promise, Major."

John grabbed both his sticks and slowly stood, wincing at the hot pain in his leg. "Call me John," he said, his voice slightly strained, but mostly sincere.

"Very well, John," Kelin smiled. His gaze narrowed at the amused look on John's face. "What is it?"

"That wasn't so hard," John answered. He smiled at Kelin's confused expression. "Halling. He still refuses to call me anything but Major." John's brows knitted. "Not sure why."

Kelin's smile turned understanding. "Ah. I see. That is Halling though." He twirled one stick, his smile fading. "Are you ready?"

John grimaced. "As I'll ever be." He circled opposite of Kelin, once more squaring off with him. He took a moment to study Kelin. The Athosian seemed to be in his early fifties, but his physical fitness, agility, strength and quickness reminded John of a much younger man. Surprise wormed through John, but he pushed it away and concentrated on Kelin. Once again, he found himself retreating as Kelin pressed him with a strong offensive attack.

In the face of such a skillful assault, John was astonished as a clear opening appeared in Kelin's seemingly impenetrable defense. For an instant, he felt torn. Part of him screamed to take advantage of the opening, but he hesitated. The last time he had done that, he had almost killed Teyla. Insecurity swept through him as his trust in himself utterly failed. Distracted, he watched the opening disappear as Kelin pressed his advantage. This time, he saw Kelin's disarming move coming and countered it, only to find Kelin had more than one trick up his sleeve. He felt his feet swept out from under him, and the next thing he knew, he was lying on the grass, staring at the cloudy sky. "Damn," he muttered.

Abruptly, Kelin appeared above him, his expression slightly amused. "Are you all right, John?"

John arched an eyebrow and sighed. "Yeah. Not sure if my pride can take much more of this though."

Kelin offered him a hand, which he gladly took. Kelin pulled him to his feet and clapped him on the shoulder a couple of times. "Patience, John. I have been practicing all my life, as have most of my people. I do not expect you to have mastered the sticks so soon."

John sighed and rubbed his shoulder gingerly. "Teyla said something of that sort not too long ago…." John's voice trailed off as painful memories swept over him once again. His gaze averted from Kelin, he did not see the astute look on Kelin's face.

"Teyla has forgiven you, John. Why can you not forgive yourself?" Kelin asked quietly.

I… can't. I broke…. John pulled his mind from those thoughts. His gaze narrowed as he abruptly stared at Kelin. "How…?" His voice trailed off as Kelin absently waved one stick at him.

"Teyla told me… among other things."

John felt the rock-hard presence of his personal wall rise within him, and he backed behind it. "She had no right," he spat, but Kelin only stared calmly back.

"Did she not? It was as much her experience as yours, John. As for anything else, she is a concerned friend. None of what she told me was secret." Kelin's gaze narrowed. "That which is secret you have yet to reveal."

John's control was assaulted; the low boil of his anger rising to the surface, but with it came a sense of panic. Fear that someone… anyone could read him so well, to think there was something he was holding back, to know there were things he couldn't reveal, couldn't talk about….

Couldn't face.

John turned away from the blackness within him, but its effect lingered, tainting his emotions. He inhaled deeply, his gaze narrowing in anger. "I thought we came here to spar." His anger only redoubled as a small, understanding smile passed over Kelin's face. It was a knowing look, and John knew damn well Kelin wasn't fooled for a minute… a thought that only angered him more.

"Very well." Kelin raised his sticks. "Defend yourself, John."

John's anger was distracting. Before long, he once again found himself flat on his back. John shook his head, his hair rubbing against the damp grass. "Teyla's used that one on me. You'd think I'd see it coming."

Kelin smiled down at John. "Of course she has. Who do you think taught it to her?"

John blinked, his anger dissolving in surprise. He sat up and slowly stood. "You trained Teyla?"

Kelin's smile widened. "Yes. She fostered with me after her father was taken. Teyla was one of my best students."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm sparring way over my head?" John muttered. He cocked an eyebrow at Kelin. "You're only telling me this now?"

Kelin only shrugged. "You did not ask before." He twirled one stick absently. "Has Teyla not shown you offensive moves?" he asked as he patiently waited for John to pull himself together for another spar.

"Yeah," John answered warily, "haven't had a chance to show you." It was a blunt lie, and he wasn't the least bit surprised by Kelin's slightly unconvinced look.

"I have given you clear openings, John. Why then, have you not taken them?"

"I haven't seen them," John groused. Openings? I only saw one….

"Then we must address that," Kelin answered. He stopped his circling and stared plainly at John. "That is, if you would like me to help train you? With Teyla on Atlantis and you here, you will not have the sparring opportunities with her that you are used to. I would be willing to step in and teach you, if you are willing."

Part of John resisted. What had started as a simple spar had taken turns he didn't expect, and had trod dangerously close to issues he didn't want to discuss with anyone. He felt uncomfortable with Kelin. The man was downright perceptive to the point of clairvoyance, and John wasn't sure he wanted to face that sort of scrutiny, or if he'd be able to keep his guard up in Kelin's presence.

But, deep inside him, another part of John made itself known. Strangely calm, the quiet voice of reason urged him to take Kelin's offer. That part of him admired the man, found a strange sense of sage wisdom in Kelin's words, and longed for more of them. The voice of reason wanted help, wanted him to seek it. While John backed away from that, he found a strange appeal to Kelin's offer.

He smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Kelin smiled. "Very well. Let us begin now." He gestured at the practice dummy. "Show me what you know."

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John stepped from Halling's tent, a small, relaxed smile on his face as he watched five young people gather around Kelin. The midday meal finished, the young teens would be mentored for the next few hours in some of the skills they would need in adulthood; tracking, hunting, building shelter, fires, and survival. John sighed, wondering again how he'd been roped into helping with these kids. He wasn't much of a hunter, and his tracking skills weren't much better, but if there was one thing the military taught him, that was survival. In a pinch he could build a decent shelter, find water and food, and build a fire. He chuckled. Like the Athosians had USAF-issue fire starters, or even a decent match for that matter. But his survival instructor had been pretty gung ho: John was relatively sure he could still make a firebow… if he had to. His smile lingered. It'd be interesting to try, anyway; part of him looked forward to the challenge.

"Major Sheppard?"

John glanced down at Pertus. "You'll join us tomorrow, Pertus. Halling wants you to be with your people this afternoon. They're working on getting your people settled here and Korban would like you with them, okay?"

Pertus looked longingly at Jinto and the others before looking back at John. The boy nodded quietly. "Okay."

John ruffled Pertus' hair. "Okay. Get going. I'll see you at the evening meal." He watched as Pertus walked over and joined Korban, who was talking with another Pallan woman. Korban nodded briefly at John.

"John?" Kelin waved at him.

John casually walked over to the small group, slightly uncomfortable as five pairs of eyes fixed on him. "Uh, hi." He smiled self-consciously.

"Major Sheppard!" Jinto's grin was wide.

"That's Major Sheppard?" Another boy stared at Jinto for a moment, before looking wide eyed at John. "Wow."

"Jinto's told us all about you, Major Sheppard." Yet another boy, a sandy-haired blue-eyed kid also stared in awe at John.

John scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. "He has? Like what?" His gaze narrowed slightly in suspicion at Jinto.

"Like how you fought the Wraith on Athos, and rescued Halling and Teyla from the Wraith ship!" the first boy said almost immediately.

"And found Jinto and chased the Shadow from Atlantis!" the second boy added enthusiastically.

"Hey!" Wex's interruption was indignant, "I was the one that told you that!"

"You brought Teyla onto your team and treated her as an equal."

John looked past the enthusiastic boys, searching for the quiet voice that had ventured that last comment. He smiled as a dark-haired girl stared back at him, her eyes wide with young innocence.

"John," Kelin's voice captured his attention. "Let me introduce you. Jinto and Wex you already know." Kelin pointed to the brown-haired lanky boy who had first spoken to John. "This is Rentel." Kelin gestured at the second boy. "And Sorbus. They were with me on the last hunting party, and have trained longer than the rest of the group." Kelin waved at the dark-haired girl, who stepped around Jinto and stood before John.

Tall for her age, the top of her head nevertheless only reached mid way up John's chest, but she stared him in the eye with a look that was every bit his equal.

John smiled back, a flicker of admiration passing through him at the strength he saw in her, despite her youth. For a moment, he was reminded of Teyla.

"This is Myella. She is new to our group." Kelin gestured slightly at the girl before waving to the group. "We will begin work soon. Gather at the training field, and Major Sheppard and I will join you soon. Go."

Abruptly, innocence returned to Myella's face as she giggled and ran off with the other boys towards the training field.

John turned and watched the group run off. "Energetic bunch." He cocked an eyebrow at Kelin who smiled and nodded.

"Yes, they are young."

John nodded silently as he and Kelin made their way to the training field at a much slower pace than their students. "Myella. She's the only girl in your group." His matter of fact statement brought a nod from Kelin.

"It is less common for women to follow the hunting way of life than men, but not unheard of… Teyla being an example." Kelin sighed. "In my travels through the Ring of the Ancestors, I have met other societies where women are restricted from doing many things because they are women. It is not that way with us. There are many duties that are more common for women to perform, just as it is with men, but we do not scorn a sharing of those duties." Kelin smiled. "Myella is Laonid's daughter, but she is not suited to follow in his footsteps. She is not suited well to the typical duties of her gender either, so we shall see if her path lies in a different direction." Kelin glanced in confusion at John's chuckle. "What?"

John shook his head. "I was thinking of Elizabeth… Dr. Weir. She told me one time that she can't cook or sew to save her life."

Kelin chuckled with John. "As it is with Teyla." Kelin's smile faded slightly. "In many ways, Myella reminds me very much of Teyla. Such quiet, inner strength." Kelin drew in a deep breath. "Rentel's parents fire pots and such, and he will probably follow their path, but there is much value in knowledge of all skills, and Rentel will benefit from what he learns here. Jinto and Wex are well on their way to following the hunter's path, as did their parents."

John nodded. "And Sorbus?"

Kelin sighed. "Sorbus is my fosterling. I am his guardian until he reaches adulthood." Kelin glanced at John's questioning look before continuing. "Sorbus' parents were taken in a culling a few years ago. He will likely follow the hunter's path as well."

John walked in silence. For Kelin to take the boy in and raise him was far from a simple act of kindness, and John found it extremely admirable. In all the time he had known the Athosian people, he was beginning to realize that he didn't really know them at all. The close-knit community had deep bonds of family and trust that frankly he never knew existed. It was a culture deeply committed to each other and, in light of the Wraith, he could easily see the need. He felt anger again at the Wraith as the reality of the way of life for the Athosian people hit home with him. How many times had any Athosian lost a loved one to a Wraith culling? Parentless, Sorbus had needed guidance and someone to watch out for him, and it had been up to someone, anyone to step forward and offer that guidance.

Perspective swept over John. He had suffered his own losses to the Wraith, but how could he compare to Sorbus, or to any Athosian who had lost loved ones? John glanced at Kelin, realizing the silence was not lost on him. He nodded. "That was generous of you."

Kelin smiled. "He is a good child, and I am proud of him."

A few feet from the practice area, Kelin and John stopped, watching the students mill around. Kelin glanced at John. "Are you ready for this, my friend?"

John smiled. "As I'll ever be." He waved towards the kids. "Lead on."

Kelin entered the wide training area and gestured at the students, who gathered around him. He smiled at them. "You have ten minutes to check your snares. Bring back whatever you have caught." He stepped back and waved at them. "Go, and I would prefer not to hear you as you pass through the woods."

John arched an eyebrow as each of the youths walked away from Kelin, fanned out and entered the woods close by. He glanced at Kelin. "Snares?"

Kelin smiled as the students disappeared into the underbrush. "They have just learned to make snares. What better way to test their skills? I instructed them to set the snares last night. We shall see how well they paid attention to instruction and the craft."

John nodded then shook his head. "I think I remember something about snares from survival training, but not much." He crinkled his brows. "The biggest thing I remember was having to eat a beetle." John grimaced.

"A beetle?" Kelin glanced at John.

"Insects. Part of that 'stay alive at all costs'… thing. Make a fire, build a shelter, get water, and eat whatever you have to so you survive." He grimaced again. "Including bugs."

"Ah." Kelin smiled. "I can think of more preferable things to eat."

John chuckled. "Me too."

"Have you ever had to use such skills, John?" Kelin asked quietly.

John's smile faded. "Yeah, once." Hard memories returned to him as he glanced at Kelin. "My Apache was shot down in a place called Afghanistan. Four days in the desert trying to stay ahead of Taliban soldiers. Almost didn't get out of that one." John pushed away the memories, his efforts aided by the reappearance of the first kid. Rentel approached Kelin and John, a satisfied smile on his face. In his snare, a small animal, loosely resembling an Earth rabbit, hung limply.

Kelin smiled and nodded at the youth.

The rest of the students one by one emerging from the woods distracted John's attention. Each of them had full snares, except Myella. John arched his brows at her obvious frustration.

"What happened, Myella?" Kelin asked patiently.

"I didn't catch anything, Kelin." Myella's voice was barely above a whisper and heavy with shame. Stifled giggles from Wex sparked anger in Myella's eyes. She dropped the snare and stared daggers at Wex. "Be quiet, Wex!"

"Myella."

Kelin's voice hardened but the Athosian girl was too upset to listen. Taking one big step she reached out and shoved Wex hard. Wex staggered back into Sorbus before landing on his backside.

John was a hair faster than Kelin, and grabbed Myella from behind as she lurched towards Wex. "Hey! That's enough!" Holding fast to the squirming girl, John lifted her completely off the ground. "I said, that's enough!"

"MYELLA!"

Myella froze at Kelin's roar.

John carefully set her down and slowly let go, ready at an instant to grab her again if necessary, but Myella only stood there, her eyes downcast as Kelin glared at her.

"Return to your tent, Myella. I will speak with your father later." Kelin's voice, while stern, was once again a normal tone. "But first, apologize to Wex."

Myella looked up, shame reddening her cheeks. "I am sorry, Wex," she muttered.

John studied Wex's face. Anger still sparked in the boy's expression and he said nothing.

"Wex?" Kelin prompted.

Wex exhaled loudly. "I accept." His tone was equally as muted as Myella's, but Kelin accepted the gesture.

"Myella go. Think about what happened today. We will talk of it later." Kelin's voice was once again kind.

John watched the young girl slowly leave the training grounds. Her posture was dejected, and she seemed almost lost as she made her way into the encampment. John returned his attention to the group of students as Kelin spoke to them.

"Show me how to properly clean and dress your kill, then take it to Laonid for curing. After that, reset your snares. Then return here for sparring."

John's attention was drawn to Myella's discarded snare. Bending over, he grabbed it and straightened. Turning the snare over in his hands John nodded at the detailed craft. Tightly woven from sinew, the snare was sturdy and cleanly constructed, at least as far as his inexperienced eye could tell. He smiled at Kelin.

"It is well constructed," Kelin agreed. "She is more adept than she realizes."

John's smile broadened. He understood and agreed with Kelin's stand with Myella, but a part of him admired the fire she had. "She's got spirit."

Kelin chuckled. "Yes, she does, but not the wisdom to go with it."

John shook his head. "I don't think I had much wisdom at that age either."

To this, Kelin outright laughed. "Very true!" His laughter faded. "Myella will learn." Kelin lightly slapped John's arm. "Come, let us see how the boys are doing with their kills."

The afternoon went quickly, and John was a bit sad to see it end. But, as the sun set, casting orange light around them, he was acutely aware of the pinch of hunger in his stomach. He watched as each one of the students returned their fighting sticks to the box, covered it with the oil skin, and dashed from the practice area, their loud shouts and laugher echoing. John chuckled as he watched them go, and looked at Kelin, who was also smiling.

"I must speak with Myella's father, John. I will meet you at Halling's tent for the evening meal."

John nodded. "Sure." He lingered in the practice field as Kelin left, and absently pushed the practice dummy as his thoughts wandered. For the first time all day, his thoughts settled on Atlantis, and he realized that he had gone all day without knowing what was happening there. A part of him loathed the loss of control, but he turned away from it. Elizabeth would've called him if there had been serious trouble.

Kicking a small rock, he ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. Being on the mainland, helping Pertus and the other kids… thinking and caring about something new, gave him a fresh perspective. Something else to worry about. Oddly, he felt fresh, not weary. His body felt tired from activity but not weary, worn… apathetic. He swallowed against a lump in his throat. He loved Atlantis, his work, his life. There was a joy in making a difference that he relished, but somehow had lost, to fatigue and indifference. His brows furrowed, the pain in his soul finding its way to his expression. Without that joy, he felt lost.

The sound of children's laughter reached his ears. Pertus….

A lifeline to his spirit, his thoughts held tightly to the boy, and to helping him. Slowly, a small smile pulled at one side of his mouth, as his gloom lifted. He sighed as the rumble of hunger in his belly derailed his thoughts. Giving the practice dummy one last shove, he left the training grounds and headed for Halling's tent.

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A hum of activity disrupted the normally peaceful morning, and captured John's attention. Only recently awake, he was just finishing lacing the calf-high boots Halling had given him. He sat up straight, his hands passing over the soft pants that replaced his standard-issue Atlantis gear. Over the past two weeks working with the Athosian boys and hunting, Kelin had urged him to change his attire, and, he had to admit, the pants and boots were comfortable. Both soft as doeskin, they were remarkably strong, and provided a complete range of motion… a quality Kelin routinely tested in John's training. Hardened soles on the boots protected his feet regardless of the terrain and, properly cured, the boots were amazingly waterproof. But he did retain his comfortable black t-shirts, loath to give up the feel of smooth cotton for the homespun tunics the Athosians wore.

He scratched his stubble and briefly considered a beard, before dismissing the thought. Footsteps passed by his tent, and the buzz of voices made their way to his ears, recapturing John's attention. He smiled at Pertus, who had just finished dressing in clothing given to him by the Athosians. For a moment, John's gaze lingered. In the fourteen days they had been on the mainland, he had seen improvement in the boy's demeanor. Hints of the happy youth John remembered from Palla were showing, as Pertus slowly made his way to normalcy again. Jinto the other boys, and even Myella, had welcomed him into their group, and Pertus thrived in the company.

John stood. "Come on, let's see what's up." He stepped out of the tent, Pertus right behind him. He froze as he watched a Jumper settle to the ground in the center of the settlement. Like a shot of cold water, the sight of the sleek Jumper descending before him triggered memories of Atlantis. He felt a glimmer of guilt. Two weeks, and he'd hardly thought about Atlantis… the team….

His duty.

Unbidden, cold dread came over him as his mind abruptly jumped to the conclusion that something was wrong. Aware that Pertus followed him, he jogged across the clearing and stopped behind the Jumper as the back hatch slowly opened.

His gaze narrowed at the faces of Heightmeyer, Teyla and Markham. He nodded at Markham. "Sergeant? Report."

"Nothing to report, sir," Markham responded. "Dr. Heightmeyer and Teyla needed a lift here, and Dr. Weir asked me to bring them."

John's gaze narrowed. "Nothing's happened?"

"No, sir," Markham shook his head.

"Everything is fine, Major," Teyla added. "I wished to speak with Halling about the Pallans, and…" her voice trailed off as she looked at Heightmeyer.

Heightmeyer smiled at him. "I wanted to check on you, Pertus, and some of the other Pallans."

He nodded absently. "I see."

Heightmeyer stared at him for a moment before smiling at Pertus. "Pertus, how are you?"

John looked down at the boy and nodded his head towards Heightmeyer. "Go on. Talk with Dr. Heightmeyer for a while." He watched as Pertus smiled warmly back at Heightmeyer and walked along with her to the settlement.

John glanced sideways at Teyla. "How are you?"

Teyla smiled back. "I am fine, Major." She inhaled deeply. "You seem well also."

John cocked an eyebrow. "Well enough, I guess." He looked back as the Jumper's hatch closed. "He's leaving?" He glanced back at Teyla.

Teyla nodded. "Yes. Dr. Heightmeyer wishes to stay for the day, as do I. He will return for us at sundown."

John pursed his lips and looked away, watching as the Jumper lifted off. He hadn't known. Didn't know the schedules, anyone's missions… what was going on. His racing mind faltered under an abrupt weariness at the thought of it all, but it lingered with him… he didn't know….

"Major?"

He glanced at Teyla, before returning his gaze to the Jumper. "I don't… I guess I'm not used to being out of the loop like that."

Teyla nodded silently.

He turned away from her and headed into the settlement.

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He sat back on one of the large, smooth rocks, contented to watch as Teyla and Kelin sparred. He arched his brows as the two of them exchanged a flurry of blows, before backing way from each other and smiling. He shook his head. "Now I know I'm way outta my league here."

Kelin looked at him and smiled. "But you are improving, John."

John chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kelin." Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his head, his smile lingering, as Pertus walked up to him. John scooted over and made room for the boy to sit next to him. "How'd it go with Dr. Heightmeyer?" he asked quietly.

Pertus smiled. "She is nice. She just wanted to talk to me." He pushed himself back on the rock, pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. "She wanted me to tell you she would like to talk to you when you have a chance."

John arched his brows. "She did, huh?" He looked up as Kelin and Teyla walked over to them.

"Go ahead, John," Kelin smiled, "I will see to it that Pertus goes to where he is supposed to be." Kelin flashed a warm smile at the boy, who returned it.

John nodded silently. He eased to his feet, and turned away, not looking back, or saying a word to any of them.

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As John walked away, Teyla watched him silently for a moment, before looking at her mentor. "Kelin?"

Kelin's smile was slight. "It has only been fourteen days, Teyla. Be patient. There is already change, even if he does not see it."

"Yes," Teyla once again watched John's retreating back, "but I…"

"Teyla."

Kelin's quiet interruption recaptured her attention. She watched him for a moment, as his shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh. When he finally locked gazes with her, there was a deep level of understanding in his eyes. "This will take time." Kelin's voice was deep and quiet. "And if he is to heal, he will be worse, before he gets better."

Teyla swallowed against her worry and broke eye contact. She stared at the ground and nodded slightly. Kelin's warm grip on her arms compelled her to look up at him. She felt her confidence return at the small but reassuring smile he gave her.

"John will find his strength, Teyla, and we will help him." She followed Kelin's gaze to Pertus, who had walked up next to her. She noted the worry in Pertus' expression, and briefly squeezed his shoulder in response.

Kelin knelt before the boy. "You share much with the Major, Pertus," Kelin held tight to Pertus' arms much in the same manner he had held Teyla's, "but, I believe you can help him as much as he helps you."

Teyla stared down at the boy, who was motionless for a moment before he swallowed hard and nodded slightly. Teyla inhaled deeply and looked back at Kelin. "Charin wishes to visit with Pertus, unless there is something else…?"

Kelin stood. "Not now." He looked down at the Pallan boy and smiled. "Go with Teyla, Pertus, until after the mid day meal. Then join us at the practice field."

Teyla nodded at Kelin and handed him her fighting sticks, before walking towards the settlement, Pertus close behind. "How do you like it here, Pertus?" she asked warmly. She looked down and met his smiling expression.

"It is much like home," Pertus' smile faded. He looked away from her and walked in silence.

Teyla nodded. "Yes." She looked around her, "it is. Pertus," Teyla's voice regained the boy's attention, "you are not the only one to have lost your home… and your family." Her expression was somber as she stopped and faced the boy. Squeezing his shoulder, she knelt. "The Wraith took my parents, and many people I cared about… and they destroyed my home world too. That is why we live here. Yet, through all of the loss, we go on with our lives. We never forget, but we do not dwell on it either."

Pertus nodded quietly. "I miss my parents, Teyla."

Teyla nodded in understanding. "As do I miss mine, Pertus, but here," she put her fist over her heart, "I carry them with me, and I know they would want me to live a full life, even without them to share it." She placed her hand over Pertus' heart. "I believe your parents would want the same."

Pertus swallowed hard. "Major Sheppard has bad dreams sometimes," he said abruptly.

Taken slightly aback by the boy's sudden change of subject, Teyla arched her brows. "The Major has his own losses to deal with, just like you, Pertus," she commented quietly.

"I know. I hear him at night sometimes. He thinks I do not know, but sometimes he wakes me. I pretend to be asleep, but many times he just leaves the tent." Pertus looked at Teyla, his innocent eyes wide. "I know he does not mean to wake me, but he cannot help it… just as my bad dreams wake him." Pertus bit his lower lip. "He tells me not to worry, and that I am safe…." His voice trailed off as Pertus looked away.

Teyla sighed. "Major Sheppard is right Pertus, you are safe. The Wraith do not know we are here, and Atlantis will protect if they do find out." Teyla stood. "Come, Charin has cooked some tuttleroot soup for us." She smiled. "You will like her."

Pertus smiled back, his expression again gaining some confidence as he walked along next to her.

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

John entered the spacious tent and paused. He stared, unmoving at Heightmeyer's warm expression.

She gestured at the bench across from her. "John. Why don't you sit down?"

His gaze narrowed as he crossed the room and slowly sat.

Heightmeyer kept her smile. "How are you?"

John's reply was quiet. "Okay, all things considered." He swallowed. "How's Pertus?" He found his eyes automatically averted from her discerning gaze.

"He's better. You're doing very well with him."

"Good." He kept his gaze averted.

"That's not why I asked you in here, John," she continued. "How are you?" she repeated.

He chewed on his lower lip as he considered her words. I feel like crap? I can't seem to care about Atlantis or anything I used to love? I'm always tired… "Okay, I guess."

"Just okay?" Her voice nudged him.

John sighed. "Did you expect me to be fine?" He glanced up at her, his gaze immediately captured by her slight smile.

"No, but I half expected you to say it anyway." She nodded slowly, more to herself than to him. "I'm encouraged that you didn't."

He couldn't pull his eyes from hers. She seemed so encouraged, but he couldn't see why. He felt his brows knit with worry an instant before he looked away from her.

"John? What is it? What's wrong?" Her voice was gentle, but insistent.

He couldn't look at her.

"John?"

John shook his head slowly. "I'm not… I don't…" He sighed heavily. Prolonged silence greeted him as he tried to find the words. He slowly looked up and into Heightmeyer's patient expression.

Her expression turned slightly imploring. "What is it, John?"

"I don't care." The words slipped quietly from his mouth, breaking the barrier that had strangled them. "Atlantis… I… I can't seem to care about it anymore. Atlantis, the expedition… my job. I can't seem to care about it." He pursed his lips. "And that worries the hell out of me."

She sighed and nodded at his admission. "John, you've only been gone a couple of weeks. Give it some time."

He shook his head. "What if it doesn't come back? I can't…."

"I think it will, in time," she interrupted quietly.

His gaze narrowed at her confident expression. "You're awfully sure."

She smiled. "Everything about this has you worried, John." She pointed at her chest. "I would be worried if you weren't."

He nodded slowly as he tried to wrap his mind around her words.

"Would it help if I said I think you're getting better?" she ventured quietly. "I have faith in your strength, John. I think you'll find your way back to the normal life you want."

He sighed. "I hope so." His reply sounded unconvinced even to his own ears.

"I know so, John."

He said nothing, the soft confidence in Heightmeyers voice doing nothing to persuade him. He stared at the floor, allowing the silence between them to linger. Finally, he heard her shift in her chair slightly.

"John, we have the time if you want to talk to me some more."

Slowly, he looked up and into her warm and reassuring expression.

"But, if you don't, that's okay too." She smiled slightly. "You may not see it, but I see improvement in you, John."

He nodded absently and stood. "I… I'm okay… for now." He headed for the door, only to be stopped by Heightmeyer's voice.

"I'll be back to check on you next week."

Not turning to face her, he nodded once and exited the tent.

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

The early morning dew touched his face as John crossed the settlement, a large basket of roots slung over his back. His legs were mildly sore and he was reminded of the day before. After his conversation with Heightmeyer, he had felt edgy throughout the entire afternoon with the kids. Once their training was over, he'd taken it upon himself to run the stress from his body, and what had started as a short run had practically turned into a marathon. Today, his legs let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he'd pushed it too far. But the physical discomfort was a trade off for the small measure of emotional ease he'd felt when he had returned late that evening.

Stopping before one of the tents, he cocked his head, listening for sounds from inside. "Hello?"

"Come inside," A female voice answered him, and he ducked through the opening. Stopping just inside the door, he eased the large basket of roots off his back, and looked up and directly into an elderly but wise female face. "Charin?" he asked, smiling as she nodded back in recognition.

"You must be Major Sheppard. I have heard about you." She smiled.

His smile deepened slightly. "That's me." He pointed at the basket of roots. "Laonid asked me to bring these over to you. Where would you like them?"

Charin stepped back and gestured to a nearby corner. "There would be fine, thank you, Major. I do not think I would have been able to carry it myself."

Squatting slightly, he once again picked up the large basket. "No problem." He crossed the room and set the basket where she had indicated. He brushed his hands over his thighs. "Well, I should get… going…." He started towards the door.

"Nonsense."

Charin's voice stopped him. Mildly confused, he turned and looked at her.

She smiled and gestured at the low table in the center of her tent. "Visit with me some, Major. At least take some water for your efforts."

He smiled at her. "Okay." He crossed the room and sat on one of the low benches. Almost immediately, she set a mug in front of him, along with a soft, fresh-baked roll. He took a long sip of water and smiled again. "Thank you." He broke off a piece of the roll as Charin rounded the table and slowly sat down opposite him. Her wise eyes looked him over, and he fidgeted slightly under her gaze.

"Teyla speaks highly of you, Major." Charin folded her hands on the table.

He swallowed his bite of the roll and grinned. "Call me John." Embarrassment crept into him. "Remind me to thank her," he muttered.

Charin smiled back. "Teyla Emmagan does not give her praise easily, John. You are welcome to visit my home at any time."

Genuine warmth flowed through him at Charin's generosity. He smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Charin." He made quick work of the last bits of the roll she'd given him and shrugged. "I may take you up on that, if you have more of those rolls around." He finished the last of his water and stood. "Thanks."

Charin slowly stood and smiled warmly at him. "From the beginning, you have treated Teyla and my people with respect and friendship, John. You brought Teyla back to again lead her people when we lost her to the Wraith. It is I that should thank you."

John swallowed, embarrassed by the woman's sincerity. He'd never considered what he'd done to have so much meaning, but seeing things from Charin's perspective changed that. Instinctively, he knew saving Teyla meant more to Charin than he could ever realize. At a loss for what to say, he settled on the simple. He nodded once. "You're welcome," he said quietly.

Charin slowly walked up to him and grabbed his arms. She bowed her head in the traditional Athosian way.

He reached up, gently squeezing the underside of her arms as he let his forehead touch hers.

"Go safely, John," she said quietly. She pulled back and smiled.

"And you." The words, part of the traditional Athosian reply, nonetheless held added meaning for him. Respect warmed him as he met eyes with her. Quietly, he turned and exited her tent.

As he stepped out into the bright sunshine, his mind raced at the abrupt change of perspective within him. Halling had started it, showing John how he'd made a difference in saving him so the man could once again be Jinto's father. At that time, it hadn't really sunk in. But now, with the added reaffirmation from Charin, John felt his understanding shift, and it ironically left him confused. So used to the darkness, so wrapped up in the lives he hadn't been able to save, he had lost sight of the ones he had saved… the people he'd rescued… and all the lives they impacted.

Inhaling deeply, John snapped himself from his thoughts. Kelin would be waiting, and frankly the distraction of sparring was welcome to John. Content to shuffle his confusion off to his subconscious, he trotted across the settlement towards the training field.

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

Standing on the edge of the control room, her absent gaze fixed on the inactive Stargate and the off-world team milling around just before it, Elizabeth didn't hear Bates' voice at first. Her thoughts were a million miles away, passing over the half dozen little things she had to take care of, and always, lingering in the back of her mind, part of her dwelt on John.

"Ma'am?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and faced Bates. She smiled slightly. "Sergeant?"

"Ma'am," Bates nodded once, curtly. "Stackhouse's team is ready to depart for M55-691."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Elizabeth looked up at Grodin and nodded. "Dial it up, Peter." She turned back, watching as the gate hummed to life. She watched Stackhouse lead his team through the gate. It should be John…

All the little things she needed to address suddenly lost their importance as her thoughts dwelled on John. A part of her had wanted, more than anything, to go to the mainland. To see him… to know he was okay. But, she resisted it. He needed space, time… a break. As much as she was impatient to know how he was doing, she knew she had to honor that space… that time away from Atlantis he desperately needed.

She turned, her gaze fixing on the not so distant exterior doors. Crossing the control deck, she swiped her hand over the door crystals and stepped out onto the Deck. As the doors closed behind her, securing her privacy, she let the mask of leadership fall from her face. She dropped her head, and pulled in a rough breath. Robbed of John's leadership… his unwavering support, she felt very much alone.

She crossed the Deck, the cold breeze and hint of rain sending a chill through her. Folding her arms against the coolness, she stared out over the city. From the beginning, she had tried to lead the team with unwavering strength. But, as time had passed, she'd realized that she and John had grown to lead the expedition together… a co-dependent role that brought the best of both of them to the forefront.

Wrapped in a diplomatic background, Elizabeth knew her thoughts… her perceptions swayed towards the complicated. Making a mountain out of a molehill, Simon had once teased her. Everything was shades of gray to her, convoluted and often times ambiguous. She never doubted her ability to make difficult decisions: she'd done it all her life. But, never to the degree that she had in her time on Atlantis. The repercussions of her choices carried so much more weight.

A slight smile played at one corner of her mouth. Then there was John Sheppard. Elizabeth had seen how, unwavering in his confidence, he carried a remarkably strong moral and personal direction within him… a path he rarely strayed from. In his mind he knew what he thought was right, and had an uncanny knack for boiling down the most complicated problems into their basic black and white stands… a framework that fit his perspective. Elizabeth shook her head. Sometimes he had to cram a little to fit them into his perspective… and sometimes they didn't fit at all. But he always tried. It was in his nature.

Together, they'd found a comfortable balance… a middle ground between them that only strengthened the ability of both.

Elizabeth sighed. She wanted him back, needed his support, and missed his friendship. Resting her hands on the Deck railing, Elizabeth let the cold wind blow through her. It was a long time, before she returned inside Atlantis.

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

"Ouch! Damn!" John winced as Kelin delivered a sharp blow to his bicep.

Kelin twirled one stick and frowned. "You are not paying attention, John."

John frowned. "Sorry." He pulled in a deep breath and assumed a defensive stance.

Kelin's attack came swiftly, and John found himself again backpedaling. He launched a brief offensive, driving Kelin back a few steps, only to find Kelin abruptly sliding inside his defense. Feeling one leg swept out from under him, he winced and fell to his other knee. Before he could react, Kelin's stick was pressed across his throat. Swallowing against the hard wood, John's sigh was resigned.

"What is on your mind, John?" Kelin asked as he pulled the stick away and backed up. "You are distracted."

John slowly stood. He rolled his shore shoulder and turned to face Kelin. His brows furrowed. "I'm not sure."

Kelin lowered his sticks, his gaze narrowing. "Do you wish to speak of it?"

John smiled slightly and shook his head. "I don't know that either." He sighed. "I'm not sure if I can explain it, actually."

"Do you wish to try?" Kelin asked patiently.

To this, John chuckled slightly. "It doesn't even make sense to me, Kelin." He sighed. "Forget it." He lifted his sticks and crouched slightly. "Where were we?"

Kelin stared a moment at him before also raising his sticks. "Attack me."

John's gaze narrowed. Abruptly, he lunged at Kelin. His attack was short lived, as he suddenly found himself flat on his back. "Damn it," he muttered.

Kelin looked down at him. "That was reckless, John, even for you." He extended his hand and pulled John to his feet. "Perhaps you should try to tell me what is bothering you?"

John sighed. He lifted his left hand, wiping his arm across his sweaty brow as he walked over to one of the bordering rocks. He dropped his sticks and slowly sat. He looked up as Kelin walked over and silently stood before him. "I spoke with Charin this morning…." John's voice trailed off as Kelin chuckled quietly.

"She has that effect on people," Kelin answered, responding to John's questioning look. "Charin is one of the wisest people I have ever met, John."

John nodded. "High praise coming from you." He smiled slightly as Kelin arched his brows in response. John's smile faded. "Something struck me as I left her tent."

"I gather you do not mean physically?" Kelin replied quietly, light amusement coloring his eyes.

John grinned briefly. "No, but I almost feel like someone might have beat some sense into my head…." His brows crinkled. "I think…." Abruptly, he stood. "Hell, I don't know." He paced a few steps away from Kelin and turned back, quickly.

Kelin stared at him a moment, before nodding slowly. "What did Charin say to you, John?"

"She thanked me for saving Teyla… for saving the leader of your people." John ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "And it occurred to me that Halling said something similar when I first got here. It just never sunk in. Halling thanked me for bringing him back to Jinto." He shrugged. "I guess… I just didn't realize how that… I mean how much…." He let out a loud sigh.

"How much good you have done?" Kelin quietly supplied.

John froze. He stared at Kelin for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yeah… I guess that's it."

Kelin smiled slightly. "It is easy to dwell on the bad and not see the good, John. You have done much for your people, and for ours." His smile broadened slightly. "I am glad that you are beginning to see that."

John's expression sobered. "I'm not sure what to think, Kelin," he admitted quietly. "I should be happy for the people I've helped, but at the same time, I don't want to forget the ones I couldn't help… the ones I lost."

Kelin nodded and stepped closer to John. "Nor should you forget them. It is a delicate balance, John, but one you must find. Never forget the ones you have lost, but always remember the ones you have helped… the lives you have made a difference in." He smiled. "Even in small ways, count your victories. You may not have saved any of the boys or Myella from certain death, but you have guided them, shared your knowledge, and helped them grow to adulthood. That is a victory, and those are lives you have made a difference in." Kelin stepped back. "Come. It is nearly time for the midday meal." He turned and walked towards the storage box.

John bent over and picked up his sticks. He stood there for a moment, watching Kelin's retreating back. Kelin's words stuck with him.

Remember the ones you have helped… the lives you have made a difference in…

The haunting memories of Palla clung to him, but quietly, a balance came forward within him. For everyone he'd lost, he found someone he'd helped, saved… made a difference to. He couldn't shake the darkness that clung to him, but deep inside, he began to find balance for his pain… and for his life.

Like night versus day, that balance contrasted with the darkness inside him that he refused to face. But, the strife between what he couldn't leave behind him and the balance before him weighed him down… kept him from taking any more steps down the path towards being John Sheppard again… and keenly he knew it. The more he found balance, the more starkly he felt that spot of pain within him. Like a dark cloud on a sunny day, it was always there, something he couldn't help but see, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it. Part of him told him to face it, but he couldn't. He feared it's effect, loathed its presence and, like he'd done so often since his capture, he turned away from it. But, even as he did, he couldn't deny it's lingering presence. Slowly, he walked after Kelin.

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

John's life fell into a routine, and he felt himself relax into it. He began to find joys in the simple meals shared with Halling, Jinto and a small core of Athosians; satisfaction in the improvements he made training with Kelin; and gratification in helping guide the young Athosians, and Pertus, as they started down the path to adulthood. He would've been lying to himself if he'd thought for a second that everything within him was smooth and normal, but, as the days passed into weeks, he began to find a perspective to his life. He began to see the simple contentment of a day of honest work, and every day when he woke, he looked forward to his day.

His routine conversations with Heightmeyer helped him find perspective, but it was the sessions with Kelin that really helped him. The wise Athosian man had a way of putting him at ease, and he found contentment in that relaxed atmosphere.

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

The routine, appearances of the Jumper didn't surprise him any more, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of worry every time one appeared on the horizon. But, today, as he watched the Jumper settle to the ground, he found his thoughts wandering to the Ancient city. How were things? The team? The missions? Exploring the city? John shook his head, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the thought of how much he'd missed, and, as swiftly as it appeared, all interest left him. He walked to the edge of the settlement and stopped, watching as two figures made their way towards him. He couldn't keep the surprise from his face as he recognized Rodney and Teyla… and Heightmeyer was nowhere in sight.

John's gaze narrowed as he cautiously nodded at both of them. He looked past Rodney before arching an eyebrow at him. "You flew?"

Rodney's expression turned annoyed. "Yes! Just a jump to the mainland!"

"Why?" John immediately asked.

Rodney sighed loudly. "Why not? Sooner or later I have to learn to fly the damn thing in a straight line." he retorted.

John wasn't buying it. "It's not like you to play chauffeur, McKay." John's expression turned slightly amused as he cocked an eyebrow at Teyla, who smiled. The consistency… predictability of Rodney's acerbic comments sparked a light humor in John, as he felt himself fall easily into the banter they shared.

"Dr. Weir," Teyla jumped in before Rodney could reply, "thought it would be a good way for Dr. McKay to practice his flying."

"Apparently, I'm the only one who thinks I have better things to be doing!" Rodney groused.

John shook his head, before he met Teyla's lingering gaze. "So," John turned his attention to Teyla, "what brings you here?"

She smiled. "I wish to visit with Charin, that is all."

"Ah, yes, Charin." John nodded. "She's quite a woman."

Teyla's smile broadened. "Yes, she is. You have met her then?"

"Yeah," John nodded again, "a couple of times. She's been pretty nice to me."

Teyla zipped the front of her jacket before she looked intently at John. "She has a great respect for you, Major. With Charin, that is a high compliment."

Silently, John nodded.

Turning and walking away, Teyla stopped and looked back at him. "Come join us later, if you wish. I am sure she would like to see you again."

John forced a small smile. "Will do."

As Teyla walked towards the settlement, he looked back to Rodney.

Rodney snorted once, quietly. "I have work to do." He started back across the field towards the Jumper.

John caught up with him. "So, what are you up to?"

Rodney glanced sideways at him. "What?"

"What are you doing?" John raised his voice slightly.

Rodney shrugged. "Working out a rotating schedule for the naquada generators to conserve power."

"Oh." John's voice trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

"So." Rodney's voice broke the silence. "You look… well."

John's brow arched cynically as he glanced at Rodney. "Thanks." Silence fell between them again and John let it linger for a minute. "How're things on Atlantis?" he asked quietly.

Rodney shrugged. "Oh, you know, the same stuff. Off-world missions, exploring the city…."

John looked away as Rodney's voice trailed off. He inhaled deeply, his gaze fixing on the horizon, and the distant mountains. "I should be there." His statement was half hearted.

"Damn right."

John stopped in his tracks. He tore his gaze from the horizon and narrowed it at Rodney. "What?"

Rodney stared evenly at him. "You should be. So, when are you coming back?"

John swallowed. "I… don't know." He walked away from Rodney.

An exasperated sigh preceded Rodney's words. "What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney briskly caught up with him and walked beside him. "We really do need you, you know. Hanging out on the mainland really isn't your style."

Mildly frustrated, John shot a warning glance at Rodney. "What do you want from me, McKay?"

"How about the truth?" Rodney retorted instantly.

John stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?" His voice took on a sad, quiet tone. "You know what happened…."

"Yes, yes, I know. You couldn't help Cooper and you watched him die because of it. You were too late to help Brianor or the Pallans…." Rodney waved his hands. "I've heard it all before. You've got that answer practiced, Major, and you've tried to convince everyone, including yourself, that's it's the only reason you bury yourself in pity and guilt. But I'm not buying it. There's something else there, Major. What else is eating you?"

"Be careful, McKay." John felt his anger rise as Rodney's words hit close to home. "We're friends, but that only gets you so far."

"Really?" Rodney shot back. "Well, I've never been one for boundaries so I'll ask you again. What the hell is your problem?"

John's anger surged. "Back off!" He stalked across the field, turning away from the Jumper.

"No!" Rodney relentlessly pursued John. "Not until you tell me the whole truth! Because something is eating you up inside, and it has nothing to do with Cooper, or Brianor, or anyone else you've lost to the Wraith!" Exasperated, Rodney sighed loudly and shook his head. "What is it, Major? Because you're sure as hell not telling Heightmeyer!" He stopped and watched John's retreating back. "So, why don't you tell me?"

John spun and stalked back to Rodney with an angered speed that caused Rodney to involuntarily step back. "Since when did you become a damn shrink? What makes you think you know anything about me?"

His expression resolute, Rodney's eyes narrowed and he raised his chin in a typically arrogant move as he stared evenly back at John. "I've seen you face down the Wraith, the Genii, Ancient technology, kids with crossbows…" he shrugged, "and never once did you lose your cool, or your head… until this."

A wave of panic crashed against John's anger. I broke… Defensiveness flowed through him. "You have no idea what you're talking about!" John's eyes quickly passed over Rodney's body. "Not that I have to justify a damn thing to you." He abruptly turned away and stalked across the field.

"What about Teyla?"

Rodney's quiet voice pierced John's defensive barrier. He froze, his anger dissolving. The ache and pain he carried... had carried since his time on the Wraith ship, was familiar. Constantly flowing through him, a part of John had grown accustomed to it... let it rule him... excuse him from having to face life. All his bad decisions, and reclusive behavior, he conveniently blamed on it. It was a crutch... and one he wasn't sure he was ready to give up. But he didn't turn to face Rodney as he answered,"You wouldn't understand." His excuse was weak, and he knew it, but his mind was reeling, and no other words came to him.

He stared out across the field and felt – more than saw or heard –Rodney walk up next to him. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and watched Rodney shift his weight in slight discomfort.

"You know, Major, I'm not the most sympathetic person. I don't talk well... or listen…" Rodney sighed loudly.

His obvious discomfort briefly pulled at one corner of John's mouth.

"My point is," Rodney went on, "if you wanted to tell me anything, I'd listen." He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

John's moment of fleeting humor faded as quickly as it came. His gaze grew distant as he stared unfocused at the far-off mountains. The silence between him and Rodney dragged on, yet, John's mind raced. His thoughts were jumbled, and nothing coherent made it to his mouth. To his credit, Rodney stood quietly, not pushing, but not leaving either. Through his rolling emotions, John keenly felt the strangeness that Rodney, of all people, stood ready to listen to him. The incredible irony of the situation faded within John as he pulled in one ragged breath after another. The darkness inside pushed at his control….

Finally, John found some words.

"After Cooper was...," John's voice trailed off. He pulled in a deep breath through his nose and tried again. "After Cooper... died, I thought I was next. The Wraith, he... crossed the room to me, and I thought I was going to die. I had so many thoughts, McKay. Atlantis, my dad, the team. But, I was... proud that I hadn't told them anything." He shook his head, his words flowing more easily in spite of the hard memories they stirred. "I don't know why, but the Wraith didn't kill me right there. They took me back to the cell and left me." John's lips twitched as he struggled to find the right words. "I was alone for a long time. I... couldn't help but think about Cooper's death. I was so frustrated... and angry." His brows furrowed as painful memories swept over him. "Then they... came back for me, but it was... different." John clenched his jaw, fighting through the painful memories. He could still feel the stun blasts... the agony... the helplessness. "They... tortured me, Rodney," he whispered.

"I know."

John glanced over at Rodney, surprise weaseling its way into his thoughts. "You do?"

Rodney nodded. "Beckett suspected as much, but you wouldn't talk about it, so we didn't push you. Elizabeth figured you'd tell Heightmeyer, or someone, when you were ready."

John nodded quietly as he mulled over Rodney's words. "Guess so." Once again he looked out across the horizon. He was quiet for a few minutes and a small part of him was mildly surprised that Rodney said nothing either. Rodney never struck John as the patient type. A knot of pain twisted his gut as his thoughts drifted back to his captivity. "All I could think about was how bravely Cooper had died. And how I wouldn't tell them anything, but they kept asking... kept torturing me with the stunners." His breathing quickened as his voice started shaking. "They kept asking, kept shooting me. The pain…" His head dropped. "It was agony," he whispered. "I can't imagine anything worse. I don't think I could survive anything worse…" His eyes slid shut as the vivid memory of pain stole his voice. He could still feel the stunner blast... the pain... see the Wraith Lord's dispassionate eyes watching him... feel the fear as he adjusted the stunner before each shot. He felt the cold floor beneath his writhing body... the fire that raced through him... the terror of not being able to breathe….

"Take it easy, Major. You're okay now."

Rodney's voice sounded distant as John struggled to control his memories. He pulled in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He glanced over at Rodney, who was staring intently. "I'm okay," he whispered. Pulling his gaze from the concerned doctor, he stared down at the tall grass. "I was scared," his admission was hard, but he pushed forward. "Part of me wanted to do anything to not be stunned again..." he furrowed his brows, guilt storming through him, "even if it meant telling them what they wanted to hear." He glanced sideways, watching as Rodney slowly nodded.

"Did you?"

John shook his head and stared hard at Rodney. "No." His voice was resolute.

"Then what...?" Rodney started.

"Don't you get it?" John's voice rose slightly, "I don't know if I would've been able to fight it off... to resist them if they'd had a chance to torture me again!" He turned away and ran a frustrated hand through his lengthening hair. "The pain was..." He closed his eyes. "I couldn't... they…" His shoulders slumped as he struggled to find the right words. Guilt flooded through him. "They broke me."

Rodney's voice was confused. "I thought you didn't tell them anything?"

He whirled back to face Rodney. "I didn't! But something happened, something that ended the session…" John stared hard at Rodney. "He was going to shoot me again... ask more questions... and I don't know if I would've been able to stop myself from answering." He turned away, guilt nearly overwhelming him. He took a deep breath, then another, as he tried to quell his surging emotions. His breathing slowed as he realized Rodney had remained silent. He turned and stared at the carefully neutral expression on Rodney's face.

"Huh," Rodney grunted "I thought I was the pessimist."

Confusion swept through John, stealing any reply.

"You don't know for sure," Rodney went on, "but you've decided anyway." He looked away for a moment. "You know? That's just not like you. You're the first one to be the optimist, as annoying as it sometimes is." His gaze returned to John's face. "Where did this come from?" Slightly uncomfortable, he shrugged. "I don't think you're right, you know. You're too…" his voice trailed off, his discomfort obviously increasing. "You wouldn't do it. You wouldn't give us up."

John shook his head, the rare compliment by Rodney nearly lost on him. "I'm not so sure." His gaze narrowed as Rodney shuffled his feet, his expression taking on the familiar arrogant tone.

"Yeah, well, I am." Rodney stared hard at John for a long moment before turning away. Instead of heading to the Jumper, he started towards the village.

John watched him go. Rodney's words passed by him and he dismissed them. Painful, the memories assaulted him, eroded his control. He closed his eyes. Sucking in a deep breath, he pushed down the memories, buried the feelings, and clung to his control. After a minute, he opened his eyes. Slowly, he crossed the field after Rodney. Catching up with him, he cleared his throat. "I thought you had work to do." His voice was low as he awkwardly started a new conversation.

Rodney grunted quietly. "Not really."

John stopped as he again watched Rodney walk on. Confusion swept through him and he stared at the amber, late summer grass under his feet. Since when did Rodney not really have work to do…

He looked up, the confusion inside him fading. His gaze took on a calculating look. He shook his head slowly and jogged after Rodney.

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

Teyla smiled up at Charin as she poured tea. "It is good to see you well, Charin." Teyla wrapped her hands around the warm cup.

Charin slowly sat opposite Teyla and smiled. "And you, Teyla." She sipped her own tea.

Teyla arched her brows. "It is good to be back here with our people. Life on Atlantis is well enough, but I feel the pull of my people strongly."

Charin smiled. "You are Tagan's daughter. I would expect nothing else." She reached across the table and patted Teyla's hand. "Tell me why you are here, Teyla."

Teyla smiled, her lips twitching in amusement at Charin's intuitive look. She sighed. "I treasure the time I spend with you, Charin."

"Teyla. There is more to your visit than me." Charin shook her head.

Teyla nodded. "Yes." She looked away for a moment, then back to Charin's face. "Major Sheppard," she said quietly.

Charin nodded knowingly. "I thought as much." She shook her head. "Teyla Emmagan, you are impatient sometimes." Charin's smile widened slightly. "Much as your father."

Teyla nodded absently. "I am worried for him, Charin."

"He will find his path. You must have faith in that," Charin responded quietly. "Kelin, myself, the children… in our own ways we are helping him."

"Some do not find their path," Teyla countered quietly, "I fear he may be one of those."

"I do not."

The confident tone of Charin's voice grabbed Teyla's attention. She stared deeply into Charin's eyes.

"We will help him find his path, Teyla. You must believe that."

Silently, Teyla nodded. Her attention was diverted by footsteps outside Charin's tent.

"Charin?"

Teyla wiped the hesitation from her face at the sound of John's voice.

Charin smiled. "Come in, John."

Teyla smiled as John appeared through the doorway, Rodney right behind.

John nodded at her before smiling at Charin. He pointed behind at Rodney. "I brought a guest, hope you don't mind."

Charin slowly stood. She reached out to Rodney. "Not at all."

Teyla arched a brow as Rodney stared uncomfortably at Charin's hands.

"McKay," the Major prompted quietly.

"Right." Rodney reached out, taking Charin's hands. "Dr. Rodney McKay."

Charin nodded back. "Welcome to my home, Dr. McKay."

Teyla watched as John and Rodney seated themselves at Charin's table. John seemed relaxed, but behind the veil of comfort, Teyla could see the pain that still shadowed his eyes. Charin's words came back to her.

We will help him find his path, Teyla. You must believe that….

Teyla smiled and nodded as she made eye contact with John. Deep inside, she hoped Charin was right.

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

"Four, two, three," John ordered, reflecting each measured blow as Myella worked through the basic disarming moves. He stepped back and smiled. "Good. You're improving, Myella."

Myella lowered her sticks and smiled slightly. "Thank you, Major."

John nodded back. "You're welcome." He stared at her a moment, noticing the slight sigh that passed through her. He cocked his head, lowering it slightly as he tried to capture her averted gaze. "What's wrong?"

Myella shook her head. "Nothing."

His brows arched. "Nothing, huh? Looks like a pretty important nothing." Crossing his feet, he eased to the ground. He settled his fighting sticks across his lap and looked plainly at her. "Well?"

She bit her lip slightly, before slowly sitting down opposite him.

He smiled encouragingly but said nothing.

"I did not…" Myella sighed and stared at the ground. She absently pulled small shoots of grass from the dirt. "My snares are still empty."

"It's okay." John ventured quietly.

"It is not!" Myella's response was emphatic. "Kelin, my parents, everyone believes the path of the hunter is the path I am meant to follow. Yet, I am failing."

"Myella," John reasoned quietly, "all that aside, do you believe this is your path?"

She looked up at him, not trying to hide the tears of frustration in her eyes. "Yes. I want it to be, but yet, I am failing at following it." Her head dropped.

"Major Sheppard?"

John looked over his shoulder as Sorbus approached. They boy's gaze was uncertain as he realized he was interrupting something. John smiled. "What is it, Sorbus?"

"Kelin has dismissed us for the day. I came to see if Myella…" His voice trailed off.

John smiled. "Go ahead. Myella will catch up with you later."

Sorbus nodded quietly and walked away.

John watched him for a moment, as he joined up with the other boys and they left the practice field. He returned his attention to Myella. He sighed quietly. "You know," he ventured, "I never really had good aim when I first learned how to shoot…." His voice trailed off as he waited for some reaction from Myella.

Slowly, the girl looked up at him, her expression turning confused.

John smiled slightly. "In fact," he continued, "my aim sucked." He pulled a piece of grass and chewed on the end. "I wanted to be a soldier more than anything, but for a while I wondered if I was going to be able to."

Myella's head dropped again, but her curiosity won out over her silent brooding. "What did you do?"

He smiled warmly at her. "I practiced… and I didn't give up. It's what I wanted, so I refused to give up. All the sudden, one day, I was good at it… and I never looked back." John let the silence sit for a moment before speaking again. "Myella?"

Slowly, the girl looked up.

He smiled again. "Don't give up. You'll get it, just like I did."

She swiped a hand over her cheeks and nodded.

"Good," he agreed. "Now, go on. Catch up with Sorbus and the others, and have some fun for a while, okay?" Her smile was small, but he took it as a victory. "Go on," he insisted.

Myella jumped to her feet and walked away from him. As she exited the practice field and approached the settlement, her walk turned to a jog.

His smile lingered as he watched her until she disappeared from sight.

"That was well handled, my friend."

He looked over his shoulder as Kelin slowly approached. "You heard?" His voice was slightly surprised.

Kelin shook his head. "No, but I watched. Whatever you said, worked."

John stood. "She's just feeling a little lost right now. She said it was her problems with the snares, but I think it's probably more." He shrugged. "I think she's a little insecure about what she's supposed to do with her life."

Kelin nodded as he joined John and they walked together across the practice field. "That is not surprising. Myella is very different than her parents. I believe she feels… isolated." Kelin's expression turned bemused. "And you believed you would not be useful with the children."

John placed his fighting sticks, and Myella's, into the protective box. He chuckled quietly. "I just told her not to give up, that's all." John pulled the oiled skin over the box and turned away from it. He paused as Kelin's hand settled on his shoulder. He met Kelin's knowing gaze.

"That is more than you give yourself credit for, my friend." Kelin held John's gaze for a long moment.

Slightly embarrassed, John nodded silently. He broke Kelin's grip and walked away. After a moment, he glanced sideways and smiled, as Kelin walked silently beside him.

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

John stumbled heavily, trying to keep his feet as the Wraith guard all but threw him forward into a large room. He looked around, his gut cramping in barely controlled panic as he recognized the room on the Wraith Lord's hive ship. He spun and swallowed hard as Fred walked slowly towards him, a stunner rifle pointed at his chest.

"Tell me that which I wish to know," Fred hissed.

John's eyes widened in fear, "I can't." He felt himself thrown backwards as a stunner blast enveloped him in pain. His shout echoed around him.

"Tell me!"

"NO!" His defiance was rewarded by another blast. Pain… all encompassing, tortured him, tore a hoarse scream from him… before stealing his breath. Suffocating panic gripped him as he writhed in agony.

"Tell me!"

Finding breath, John's voice cracked. "Please…"

An image of Brianor flashed by him. "John!"

"NO!!"

John bolted straight up in bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked around… and directly into the eyes of Pertus.

Sitting quietly on the edge of his bed, Pertus' eyes were wide with fear. "Major Sheppard?"

John braced his hands on his knees, and dropped his head, trying to regain control of his surging emotions. He felt wetness on his cheeks and reached up, swiping one hand over his face. He closed his eyes against the nightmare images burned into his mind. His racing thoughts abruptly halted as he felt a warm squeeze on his forearm. Opening his eyes, he looked down, his gaze fixing on Pertus' hand.

He looked up and into Pertus' innocent gaze. The boy swallowed hard.

"You are safe," he said, quietly. "That is what you tell me when I have a bad dream." Pertus bit his lower lip hesitatingly. "You tell me I am safe and not to worry."

John just stared wordlessly at the boy. His emotional tidal wave began to ease and the sweat on his brow left him chilled. Slowly, he reached up and ran a hand down the side of Pertus' head.

Pertus scooted closer to him and hugged John tightly.

After a moment, John returned the gesture. "You're right," he whispered quietly. After a moment longer, he pulled away and lay down on his bed. As he closed his eyes, he felt mildly surprised as the boy lay down next to him and across his arm. It was a long while before he could sleep but, through his surging emotions, he felt the comfort of one small boy, and drew strength from it.

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

"One, two, three," Kelin recited as John moved through three basic moves, his mock blows meeting Kelin's sticks with resounding cracks. "Again!" Kelin urged, "one, two, three. Good." Kelin stepped back and nodded. "You still drop your shoulder, John, and that weakens your blow. But," he smiled, "you are improving."

John smiled back. "There's hope for me yet?" he quipped.

Kelin chuckled. "I would not waste my time with you if I thought otherwise."

To this, John laughed quietly. "Thanks." He reached up and wiped some sweat from his brow. "Kelin, can I ask you a question?"

Kelin arched a brow. "Of course."

John backed up a few feet and sat down on one of the boulders bordering the practice field. "You've shown me at least a dozen different way to cripple or disarm an opponent, and while I see how any combination of those moves could injure or kill, you've never shown me a killing blow." His gaze hardened slightly. "Why?"

Kelin arched his brows and nodded slightly. "I wondered when you would ask me that." His gaze turned slightly confused at John's chuckle. "What is it?"

"You always seem to be one step ahead of me. How do you do that?"

Now it was Kelin's turn to chuckle before his expression turned sincere. "By observation, John. You can learn much about a person without ever asking."

Respect dominated John's expression for a moment, before he nodded slowly.

Kelin sat down on a rock next to him. "You asked of killing moves?"

John pulled a foot up on the rock and wrapped his arms around his knee. "Yep."

"There are a few," Kelin replied quietly.

John nodded. "Thought so. Why haven't you shown me?"

Kelin arched both brows. "You are not ready. To kill, John, you must be sure of what you are doing, because there is no second chance."

John's gaze hardened. "I've killed before, Kelin. I know the stakes."

"You still are not ready." Kelin insisted.

John bristled, irritation rising in him. "What are you talking about?"

"Since your… experience, you carry much inside you." Kelin stared evenly at John's hostile expression. "The control is not there."

Kelin's words hit close to home and, deep inside, John knew it. He tore his gaze from Kelin and silently fumed.

"Tell me I am wrong, John," Kelin stated plainly.

Angry, John clenched his jaw. "I can't," he spat. The admission was hard, and one he didn't want to make, but he couldn't turn away from it. Anger flashed in his eyes as he watched Kelin abruptly stand.

"Work it out, John. At the very least, work the stress from your body. Stop letting it poison your spirit." Kelin gestured at the practice dummy. "Show me the twelve disarming moves I have taught you."

"Kelin," John's words were cold, "I don't think…."

"Show me!" Kelin raised his voice, cutting off John's protest.

Anger sparking in his hazel eyes, John glared at Kelin. He shot to his feet, his grip white knuckled on his fighting sticks. He stalked to the practice dummy and delivered a smashing blow to the dummy's side. "One!" he shouted. His other stick came around and smashed into what passed as the dummy's knee. "Two!" He quickly worked through the list of moves and stepped back. Sweat formed on his brow. "Happy?" He spat.

"No." Kelin answered plainly. "Do it again."

John glared but approached the dummy anyway. In a small way, it did feel good to him to have an outlet, but that positive feeling was quickly buried in anger. "One!"

"Who was Cooper?" Kelin shot at him.

John faltered. He stared wordlessly at Kelin.

"Show me six!" Kelin pointed at the dummy, his voice commanding.

John delivered a crushing blow to the dummy's upper arm. "Six!"

"Who was Cooper? Eight!" Kelin's voice was forceful.

John savagely brought his stick down on the dummy's wrist. "Eight! He was under my command!"

"Two! What happened to him?" Kelin pressed John, forced him to comply.

John felt his control slipping and he was in no mood to fortify it. He backhanded the dummy's knee. "Two! The Wraith tortured and killed him right in front of me!" He jumped ahead of Kelin's next command. He smashed his stick into the dummy's side. "One!" He stepped back, but Kelin was not finished with him.

"Show me ten! Why didn't you stop it?" Kelin badgered John, his barrage of questions tearing down his defenses.

John spun and landed a blow across the dummy's back. "I couldn't stop them! I couldn't help him! No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, they killed him anyway!" His control nearly gone, his blows started falling rapidly in succession. He whirled, his stick whipping around and delivering a crushing blow to the fighting dummy's head. His hard earned and well-defined control slipped and he brought his other stick up, laying a crippling blow to the target's midsection. "He died and I couldn't stop it!" The sticks slipped from his grasp as he doubled up his right fist and drove it deep into the practice dummy.

"And Brianor?"

His control slipped further. "They killed her! And her son…." He savagely punched the dummy. "Just a child… a… baby… the bastards killed them!" His brutal blows rained down on the target. "Fed on them!" He delivered a staggering right cross to the dummy's head. "Murdered them!"

"What else?" Kelin's voice needled John. "What else is there, John?"

John's left fist followed his right one. "Nothing! Isn't that enough?" He slammed his right fist again into the target, vaguely aware of stinging pain in his knuckles.

"No!" Kellin shouted.

John sidestepped the swinging dummy as Kelin shoved it towards him. Employing a tactic Kelin taught him, he spun and back fisted the target. "Damn it!" He slammed his left fist into the target again. "God damn it!"

"What else is there, John? What is rotting your soul? Tell me!" Kelin kicked the target and sent it wheeling at him.

Rage overwhelmed him. Emotions... deep, dark... sinister haunted him. That place… that dark spot within him called out, begging to be heard. He'd fought to control it, to deny it, to leave it behind him… but always it eroded at his control, finally breaking through.

"They caught me!" He punched the target mercilessly. "They hurt me!" Another hit. "Tortured me!" Two more hits. "They broke me!" Hatred, helplessness, pain all surged over him as he punched the target again and again. Sweat poured off his brow, his muscles screamed in protest, his breath was ragged, but the pain within him was relentless and pushed his endurance to the breaking point. Blow after blow fell on the practice dummy. Once faced… one acknowledged, his rage refused to be controlled. It surged over his carefully built barriers. Swept up in a rush of hate, his knuckles burned, the broken skin bleeding freely, yet he continued his assault until, at last, exhaustion overwhelmed him.

His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, the practice dummy still swinging back and forth next to him. He stared at his blood covered, shaking hands as words escaped him. He looked up at Kelin, who stood quietly at the edge of the practice field, his expression neutral.

Slowly, Kelin crossed the field until he reached John. Stopping, the Athosian man knelt and placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "You must let the anger go, John."

John reached up and ran a shaking hand over his forehead, leaving a smear of blood behind. "They... broke me, Kelin. As hard as I tried... the stronger I tried to be, the more they hurt me... hurt Cooper. No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough. Wasn't enough to save him… to help me… The stunners... the pain…" His strangled voice trailed off as his vision blurred. He dropped his head as words caught in his constricted throat.

Vaguely aware that Kelin's strong grip never wavered, he finally felt his control shatter. From deep inside him, all the rage, hate, and denial he'd so carefully controlled surged forward. A knot in his chest sent stabs of pain outward. Great heaving sobs tore through him, and he screamed his anger against the unfairness… the pain of everything. Disconnected, he heard his primal shout echoed off the trees. His lungs burned for air, and he pulled in a loud shuddering breath. His chest heaved, and he felt wetness on his cheeks, as his clasped hands cradled his head, his arm savagely pushing Kelin's hand away.

He rocked back and forth on his knees, desperately trying to escape the pain that was almost more than he could bear. His lungs burned and he struggled to pull ragged breaths through his constricted throat. The pain that surged through him… outward from that dark place deep inside, tortured him. He lost track of time as he sat there, consumed in his grief, surrendered to his pain and helpless to stop any of it. Through blurred eyes, he could see Kelin sitting close by, but the Athosian man remained silent. Still, he felt his presence, and drew strength from his closeness.

Wrung out… exhausted, he finally felt his emotional tidal wave ebb. In its wake it left him drained, his head pounding, and his stomach doing summersaults. He swallowed against his nausea and looked up at Kelin. Eyes puffed and painful, his vision was blurred, but he still saw the look of deep understanding on Kelin's face.

"That was long overdue, my friend." Kelin commented quietly.

John blinked hard, Kelin's statement lost on his numb mind. Words escaped him, and he sat in stunned silence.

Kelin slowly stood and extended his arm. "Take my hand, John."

He stared at Kelin's hand, his scrambled brain trying to process the man's words. He blinked hard but remained motionless.

"John," Kelin's voice was soft and understanding. "Take my hand. You are going to be fine."

Slowly, John reached one shaking hand up and weakly grasped Kelin's. He felt Kelin's grip tighten around his, as the Athosian pulled gently but insistently on his arm.

"Stand up, John. Let us go to your tent."

Somehow, in John's addled brain, he managed to pull his legs under himself and stand. He felt weak, but drew strength from Kelin's strong grip on his elbow.

"Slowly now, John." Kelin started walking, supporting him as he shakily stumbled along.

He felt as if his mind had shut down. He didn't know what to think, how to act or even if he trusted himself to walk, relying on instinct to guide his feet. Vaguely aware of voices, he nonetheless focused his sight on the path below his feet, his grip tightening on Kelin's arm, a gesture that was returned.

"What has happened?"

Laonid's voice reached John's ears, but he still found he could do no more than concentrate on where his feet fell.

"Find Halling and have him come to the Major's tent," Kelin answered quietly. Again, John felt Kelin's grip tighten. "The Major will be all right, but I would have Halling join us," Kelin added.

"Kelin, what…?" Laonid started.

"Now, Laonid, please," Kelin interrupted quietly, but firmly. John somehow found comfort in the calmness he radiated.

"Major Sheppard?"

Myella's young voice grabbed John's attention. He slowly looked up and into her innocent, concerned gaze. Fighting against the numbness that surrounded him, a brief glimmer of concern flashed through him. He tried a small smile, but somehow the gesture was lost.

"Myella."

Kelin's voice again. John's gaze fell to the ground as they continued to his tent.

"Myella, child, listen to me." Kelin admonished lightly. "Go to the creek and bring back some water. Then find some clean cloths and join us in the Major's tent. We must tend to his hands."

"Kelin…?" Myella started.

"Myella, now." Kelin hardened his tone slightly, before allowing it to soften again. "Do not worry, child, the Major will be fine."

"Yes, Kelin."

John could hear her light footsteps as she dashed off to do Kelin's bidding.

Kelin paused at the entrance to John's tent and pulled back the furs. He led John inside and over to his sleeping pallet, slowly helping John to sit. Kelin knelt. "John?"

John blinked hard and slowly grabbed his temples. He felt like his head was going to explode.

"John? Listen to me."

Kelin's voice was reassuring and John slowly looked into the Athosian's patient eyes.

Kelin smiled slightly. "You are going to be fine. We will dress your hands, then I want you to sleep, all right?"

Still in shock, John slowly nodded. A chill ran through him and must've been visible to Kelin because, almost instantly, he felt a warm fur pelt settle over his shoulders. He managed to look up as motion in the doorway caught both his and Kelin's attention.

Halling stopped just inside the tent and stared at John.

John's gaze drifted back to the floor. He felt unable to make eye contact with Halling.

Halling's deep voice penetrated his shock. "It has happened then," he stated simply.

A spark of confusion flickered briefly in John, before it was smothered by deadened emotions.

"It has." Kelin replied quietly.

Again, motion grabbed John's attention. He looked up as Halling stepped sideways, allowing Myella to enter the tent. Slightly breathless, she stopped in the doorway and looked to Kelin for guidance.

"Set the water and cloths on the table, Myella, then you may leave," Kelin directed her quietly.

John briefly made eye contact with Myella as she nodded and crossed to the table. Depositing her armful of supplies and bucket full of water, she stepped back and hesitated. She stared at John, her innocent eyes holding his gaze.

"Myella," Kelin admonished quietly, "you may go child."

"The Major…" Myella started, only to be interrupted by Halling.

"Myella," Halling's deep voice held a hint of warning.

John stared at the young girl, her worry, concern and innocence piercing the shroud of indifference that blanketed him. "Myella," he croaked through a scratchy throat, "I…" He inhaled deeply. "I'm okay."

Myella swallowed hard and nodded. A small and tentative a smile flashed across her mouth before she turned and left the tent.

Halling sighed and brought the bucket and stack of clean cloths over to the bed. He shook his head in dark amusement at the full pail and the large pile of rags in his hands. "The child brought half the stream and enough cloths to bandage a dozen hands."

"Yes." Kelin's voice held a hint of amusement.

John felt Kelin's gaze and looked up at him.

"It would appear the young people admire you greatly, John."

John nodded. He winced as Kelin began cleaning the rapidly drying blood from one of his hands, while Halling tended to the other. "I can…." His voice trailed off as Kelin stared intently, but reassuringly at him.

"Do not concern yourself with this, John. Concentrate on yourself and nothing else."

Another small thought raced through John's head. "Pertus…?"

"He will stay with us tonight," Halling immediately answered. "I am sure Jinto would enjoy the company. I will look after the boy for you."

John nodded absently. "Thanks." He winced again as the two Athosian men tended his battered knuckles.

"This was a long time coming, Major," Halling stated quietly. "It may not appear to you as beneficial, but it is. You will be stronger for this." He smiled slightly at John's hollow expression. "But, that is a discussion best left for another time." Grabbing a clean, dry cloth, he carefully wrapped John's left hand, while Kelin did the same with the right.

"Lie down, John," Kelin gently instructed.

John found himself too numb, too tired to argue. He slowly lay back, his head sinking into the soft pelts that acted as a pillow. He faintly felt someone settle thick furs over him, but fatigue was rapidly overcoming him. Through his numbness, he suddenly felt strangely relaxed. Despite his nausea, which had begun to lessen, he keenly felt the absence of lingering tension and barely controlled anger. For the first time in a long time, he felt relaxed, and as if the blanket of deadened emotions had begun to lift. A faint glimmer of satisfaction and of peace spread through him, an instant before the bliss of sleep overtook him.

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

A distant, quiet buzzing gradually pulled John from deep slumber. He grimaced, rolling his head to one side, refusing to open his eyes. His head pounded and, as the grogginess in his mind started to clear, he had a pretty fair idea squinting into the light wouldn't help matters at all. He slowly turned over, pulling the furs up close to his face, blocking some of the daylight. The buzzing in the background gradually turned to distinct voices as sleep fled him, despite his best efforts to hang onto it. His attention was piqued as he heard Kelin's voice, just outside his tent.

"…is probably still sleeping…"

John shifted slightly. He wished he were, if only to not have to face the headache and nausea. Then there were the memories… He groaned quietly, the numbness of his breakdown replaced by fresh pain within him.

"I will sit with him, then. Someone needs to be there when he awakens, and you need to rest, Kelin."

John's eyes snapped open, He groaned again as the morning light filtering through his tent assaulted him. He squeezed his eyes shut again. The female voice sounded familiar, but his groggy mind couldn't place it. He heard the tent flap rustle, and listened to the distinct sound of footsteps inside his tent, but he didn't move. Still turned away from the doorway, he couldn't face whoever was there. Yet sleep escaped him completely and his grogginess cleared… only to be replaced with racing thoughts, and surging emotions. He held still, clinging to the illusion that he was asleep, but inside his quaking feelings were far from tranquil. Memories of the day before dashed through his mind.

He'd lost it.

Utterly and completely, he had lost control of himself. He'd been powerless to stop the rush of emotions that had overcome him. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before, and the dominant feeling he had was confusion. But, somewhere inside him, he felt a glimmer of relief… like something had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders and purged his spirit.

His attention was grabbed by a quiet humming that came from behind him. Unfamiliar to him, the tune was nonetheless calming, relaxing. His racing mind slowed as it latched onto the soothing sound. Kelin had been there… seen everything. Hell, he'd instigated his breakdown. Kelin had never left him. Through it all, he distinctly remembered Kelin's face… and the accepting expression that had dominated it.

John's insecurity called to him. He'd broken down… exposed himself to anyone who been around to see. Exposed the pain, the hurt, everything that had plagued him… that he'd tried so hard to contain behind a strong front. Part of him felt disgusted at himself for losing control, but he turned from it. No one had judged him… or deemed him any less strong for what had happened. The memory of Kelin's accepting expression only reinforced that feeling within John.

Holding tight to that sense of acceptance, John slowly turned over and identified the source of the quiet, calming hum.

Seated patiently at the table in the center of his tent, Charin adeptly wove coils of thin, brown, rope, as her voice followed a quiet tune. Relaxed, she seemed to radiate a sense of contentment, and John felt it flow over him. He smiled slightly… respectfully, and quietly cleared his throat.

Charin's braiding hands never slowed. She looked up at him, her small smile warm. "Good morning, John."

He drew strength from her calming presence and found a slight smile. "Morning." His voice was hoarse, and he again cleared his throat.

Charin laid her braiding on the table and grabbed a stout pitcher, wrapped firmly in furs. She tipped it over a mug and poured a steaming cup of tea. Standing slowly, she brought the mug to John. She sat on the edge of his bed. "Take some tea. It will calm your headache and help you feel better."

His expression turned slightly questioning. "How could you tell?" He blinked at her confused look. "My head."

She smiled slightly. "I have seen this before, John."

He pushed himself up on one elbow and groaned as the pain in his head redoubled. He felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Slowly, John."

He pulled in a deep breath and swallowed against his nausea. He reached up with his free hand and, despite the clumsiness from the bandages, took the mug from her grasp. "Thanks." He sipped the hot brew slowly, almost instantly feeling its calming effect as he swallowed. Expecting the robust tea Teyla had introduced him to, he was surprised at the mild flavor that met his palate. He looked up at her. "What is this?"

Charin smiled patiently. "It is a calming tea. It will help relieve the tension that brings you pain."

He nodded as he took another sip. "You'd think I'd feel better than this…" he groused quietly. He looked up again as Charin chuckled softly.

She looked at him her expression sobering, but holding a strong element of reassurance. "You have been cleansed, John. But, like any other wound, the wound of your spirit must have time to heal." She patted his hand lightly, mindful of his bandaged knuckles. "And it will pain you, at first, until it does." She gestured at the mug. "Drink the tea, John."

He again sipped the hot tea, encouraged by her words, and the smooth, sweet flavor that flowed from the cup. He finished quickly and handed her the mug. "Thanks." Pushing himself up further, John was surprised to feel Charin's restraining hand.

"Rest, John." Her voice was almost motherly.

He gently resisted. "No, I really should get up." He paused as a warming sensation started deep inside him. His body slowly relaxed and he suddenly felt tired. "What…?"

Charin squeezed his forearm. "The tea will help you sleep, John, and that is what you need right now, more than anything."

He slowly lay down on the soft pillow. He pulled in a deep breath as his headache ebbed. "Works… fast."

Charin's smile lingered as she nodded. "Kelin believed you would not stay in bed and sleep as you should. I agreed. The tea has closed the matter. Now, sleep, John."

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and slide shut as Charin once again hummed quietly, the nameless, soothing tune. He only heard a few notes before sleep took him.