A/N: As always, thanks to ladygris for all her help with, well, everything. And thanks to Shadows-of-Realm for his assistance with another matter.

FYI - In this AU, the symbiotes are not unisex. They are male or female.

Namaste,

~Sandy

Not a Hero

Chapter 4

Empty Yesterdays

John would have pursued the matter of visiting the shrink further, but Ana returned with a tray and the smell of food made his stomach grumble.

Derek took the tray from her and set it on the table. "Let's take out the IV first."

Ana expertly and painlessly removed the IV. Pressing a cotton ball to the spot, she had John hold it while she used a bandage to keep the pressure on. She took the cloth napkin from his tray, shook it out and draped it over his lap before wheeling the overbed table in front of him. He lifted the cover and like the day before, the fare was light, chicken broth, crackers, applesauce and herbal tea.

"If you eat everything like a good boy and it stays down, we'll let you get out of bed for a while."

"'Good boy' doesn't exactly describe me, but get me some of that blue Jell-O and you got a deal."

~~O~~

Richard sat behind his desk flipping through the papers that his underling had retrieved from Sheppard. His eyebrows rose when he saw what was written on the one page though with amusement instead of disgust. He wasn't nearly as stuffy as his staff thought he was.

Magee, slightly on the chubby side, paced back and forth in front of the desk, stopping suddenly to lean on the edge. "How can you even consider…" he gestured at the papers. "He should be in jail, not our Infirmary."

Removing his glasses, Richard tossed them on the desk. Secretly he agreed with David but only up to a point. Where they differed was how Sheppard would be dealt in the future.

With a phone call of less than thirty seconds duration, Sheppard had saved Earth from being culled by the Wraith. McKay was right. He deserved more than just a bandage, a slap on the back and a hearty "thanks a bunch but don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

Richard stood, indicating that their talk was at an end. "I'll deal with Detective Sheppard myself."

"Good. I'm done with him." Without being formally dismissed, David left, slamming the door behind him.

Removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie, Richard resumed his seat. Flipping once more to the page that had amused him earlier, he finally let a grin come to his face. That had been the exact response he'd expected. Turning to the right, he slipped the papers into the shredder. Bzzzt! Opening the middle drawer, he extracted two unblemished copies. Bzzzt!

He booted up his workstation and opened the file on their guest. Keeping in mind what had been written in the margins of the pages he'd just disposed of, he made changes to the document except for one very specific section. Those items were deal-breakers.

Saving his work, he sent it to the printer on the credenza behind him. Separating the pages into three identical stacks, he stapled the corners and set them aside. Sheppard wasn't ready, not yet. His response told him that. Soon he would be and Richard would be there with the offer again.

~~O~~

Jennifer stood at John's bedside, one hand holding a large shopping bag and a box tucked under the other arm. His covers had been kicked off, and with his face relaxed in sleep, he looked peaceful even though she knew him to be one of the most troubled souls she'd ever met. His file said his very wealthy father, the CEO of a large international corporation, had died a few years before and he had a brother but they hadn't spoken in quite some time. She found that almost inconceivable. All she had was her dad, her mother's sister and a few cousins. If she never saw or spoke to them again it would almost kill her.

Setting the box in the chair, she reached into the bag and placed a paper tube, CD player and headphones on the table then pulled a battered CD case from her pocket. The man on the front, dressed all in black, carried a guitar and stood alone in the hallway of what looked like a recording studio. Turning it over, she went quickly down the song list. The first track, I Won't Back Down, a Tom Petty composition, played inside her head. The tone was slightly scratchy as if she were listening to a worn out recording. But was it a memory or something else?

Well I know what's right, I got just one life

In a world that keeps on pushin' me around

But I'll stand my ground, and I won't back down

According to Ana he'd been out a while, and not wanting to be caught watching him sleep, she set the bag in the chair with the box and quickly left the room.

San Francisco

Beltway Apartments

Evan called Anthony on a pretext just to see if he was home. Now he was sitting on the sofa in his apartment, elbows resting on his knees trying to make himself do what he knew had to be done. A lock picking set, flashlight and several pairs of latex gloves were laid out in front of him so he wouldn't forget them. He was dressed casually in dull, forgettable colors.

Pushing to his feet, he gathered his things together and locked the door behind him. His car was that same sandstone color that was so popular now and would blend in with all the other cars in Anthony's neighborhood. He'd park a half-mile up the road and walk the rest of the way.

There were no worries that he'd be noticed. He knew his features were ordinary. Average height, average weight, average hair color. Average in every way. Well, except for his eyes. He'd taken their color for granted until he'd been told otherwise by more than one girlfriend. To him they were just his eyes. Two little blue orbs that allowed him to see the world and its myriad of good and evil. He didn't know if what was going on with his partner was good or evil, but he intended to find out.

Pulling to a stop, he shut the car off, got out and locked it. The flashlight, lock pick kit and gloves he shoved into the pockets of his jacket and checked the time. When he'd called before, Anthony had told him he was in Oakland visiting his mother. He always stayed for dinner so Evan had at least three hours before he was expected home. Plenty of time.

Area 52

Infirmary

When the door closed, John cracked one eye just enough to make sure Jennifer was gone. Using the bed controls, he raised the head so he could reach the things she'd left on the table. Unrolling the tube he found it to be his Johnny Cash poster, the only thing he'd kept when he'd resigned the force. The CD was the one from his car. It was also the only CD he owned. He opened the player, popped the silver disc in and pressed play. The intro of the first song had already started by the time he got the earbuds in place.

As the song ended he noticed the bag in the chair. It had the name of a mid-priced clothing store, the sides bulging from the contents.

Shutting off the player, he reached between the bars, located the release button and let the rail down. Swinging his legs over the side he dragged the chair closer. Digging into the contents he found three pairs of jeans, three button front shirts and a jacket. Down in the bottom were several pairs of boxers in weird colors with silly sayings on them, a belt and a package each of black T-shirts and thick socks. The box contained a pair of black New Balance sneakers. Checking the tags he found everything was the correct size. And brand new.

He looked at the clothing spread over the bed with the tags still attached. It had been years since he'd had new clothes. Everything he owned came from a thrift store. The thought that anyone in this world cared enough to go out and actually spend time picking out these items just for him caused something within him to change. It wasn't a big change but a change nonetheless. Being so out of touch with his emotions for so long, he had no idea how to describe a feeling as foreign to him as the Wraith locked up somewhere in this building.

Tossing the clothes on the chair, he got back into bed and let the head down again. Turning on his side facing away from the door, he tucked one hand under his head and let the other keep hold of the top edge of the sheet he'd pulled up to his neck. He wanted to sleep until the empty yesterdays returned, until his life went back to the way it was before yet knowing that nothing would ever be the same again. And all because one person had shown him kindness without wanting anything in return.

Don't know that I will, but until, love can find me
And the girl who'll stay, and won't play games behind me.
I'll be what I am, a solitary man, a solitary man, a solitary man.

~~O~~

Melissa stopped outside David's office, checked her face in the small mirror she'd taken from her purse then pulled the elastic from her hair, shaking it loose so it fell in waves around her shoulders. Next, she unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, pulled her shoulders back, pasted on a big smile and knocked.

"Come in."

"Hi," Melissa said brightly. "Ready to go?"

Distractedly, David looked up at her then back to his computer. "Just about. Have a seat. I'll be done in a minute."

Instead of sitting, Melissa roamed over to look at the books on the shelf to the right of the door. Most of them were hardbacks, original editions by authors she'd never heard of. From the corner of her eye she watched him work. She wasn't anyone special, just a computer tech who assisted Dr. McKay and Zelenka when they were on Earth and checked over other people's reports for factual and grammatical errors not caught by the spellcheck the rest of the time. Except for the report he was working on now, the one about their mysterious new guest, Detective Sheppard. He refused to let anyone see it.

She knew he didn't like the man though he'd never said why. Their last date he'd spent over an hour complaining about wasting time and resources on someone like him. What he meant by that she wasn't sure. She'd passed Sheppard in the hall a few times, had even been there the day he met Dr. Adams. Personally, she found him very handsome in a rugged and enigmatic way. Not the kind of guy she usually attracted, but then neither was David.

Turning when she heard his computer shut down, she watched him carefully lock his desk and the credenza behind it. Out in the hall, he closed his door and gestured for her to go ahead of him. When they reached the parking lot, they got into their cars and she followed him into town. They had dinner at a moderately priced restaurant then went back to her place.

Three hours later, she kissed him good-bye and went back to her empty bed.

~~O~~

Ana no longer stayed at Sheppard's side though she still watched him on the monitor at the station down the hall. He knew he was being watched and she knew he knew, but they didn't mention it. Physically, he wasn't completely out of the woods. They were pumping him full of antibiotics to prevent infection and pain killers as well as treating the radiation exposure. Oh, he'd get better, and it would take a few weeks, but at least he would get better thanks to General Carter and the Goa'uld healing device.

On the monitor, he was facing away from the camera. She'd taken a tray in, but it sat untouched. She knew it wasn't because he didn't get what he wanted. His body wasn't ready for burgers and fries, especially not from the Commissary.

No, the reason for his refusal to eat was psychological, if she didn't miss her guess. And it didn't take a shrink to make the connection between Jennifer's gifts and what was happening, or rather not happening in front of her.

Going to the workstation, Ana opened Sheppard's medical file and made notes. She paused only a fraction of a second before typing the last line…

"…it is my recommendation that Detective Sheppard begin his sessions with Dr. Adams as soon as possible."

San Francisco

North of the City

James Anthony drove north out of the city to a new subdivision, turned onto the first street and parked in front of the last house on the block. The lights were only on in the first floor windows as he made his way along the straight concrete sidewalk. He rapped his knuckles on the front door and was admitted. There was furniture in the living room, plain and new, as if it had come with the house. Following the man who had opened the door, he was led to a room in the rear. The windows were covered in such a way that Anthony knew not a spec of light could be seen from the outside.

The room was filled with equipment that part of him had never seen before. Another part of him recognized each and every component, had even used it on many occasions.

A figure sat in a leather office chair, her back to the door. Without turning she said, "You're late."

Anthony bowed his head respectfully though he couldn't be seen. Somehow she would know. "I am at your command, my lady." Traditionally, all system lords were referred to as "my lord," but this one was different. Both the host and the symbiote were female and "they" preferred the feminine mode of address. As she was their leader, he would do as he was told just as the others did.

Las Vegas

Summerlin Subdivision

The Next Morning

Going to her closet, Tish took out a skirt and jacket and tossed them on the bed along with a matching silk blouse. From the bottom of the closet, she grabbed her favorite pair of heels. Underclothes sailed through the air to land on the bed as well. She sat down at the vanity, picked up the bottle of foundation and got to work.

Her make-up applied, she went to the bathroom and unwrapped the towel around her damp waist-length black hair. Running a wide-toothed comb through the strands to get rid of the tangles, she squirted mousse into her palm, rubbed both hands together and ran them through her hair down to the ends. A few minutes with the hair dryer and brush and her natural waves were stick straight. A quick jiggle of the dryer at her bangs left them looking as if the wind had blown them out of place just a little while leaving the rest of her hair untouched.

Her fiancé had once told her she looked like a taller version of Paget Brewster. She'd looked the actress up and found he hadn't been lying or delusional. Except for height and eye color, they could have been sisters. Their birthdays were even the same month. Paget was a few years older, though she didn't look it.

Well, he wasn't exactly her fiancé yet. But soon, even if she had to do the asking.

As she dressed, she mentally went over the file for her newest patient. Sheppard, John T. Ex-Air Force pilot, ex-cop, savior of the world, cynical, resents authority, questionable ethics, blah, blah, blah. Been there, done that. Most of the staff at Area 52, Area 51, the SGC and Atlantis could be described that way. Hell, most of the staff had dossiers that went back to college, some to high school, and in McKay's case, to grade school.

The only exception to that rule was Senior Master Sergeant Walter Harriman USAF. Despite all that had he'd done and witnessed as a member of the SGC, the man was strangely happy and well adjusted. Shaking her head, she went back to the original subject: Sheppard.

San Francisco

Eureka Valley Subdivision

Hands in his pockets, Evan ambled down the sidewalk on Anthony's street careful not to pay attention to any one house. When he reached the corner, he turned right until he got to the alley. He stopped to retie his shoes, giving a cursory glance around as if he were bored with his walk.

Slipping down the alley, he made his way to the back gate of his partner's home. The latch was padlocked and he knew there were no alarms, motion-activated lights or snarling, slavering, noisy attack dogs so he chose to scale the fence. He grasped the top rail almost two feet above his head, hoisted himself up, hooked his right foot over the top, followed with the left foot and landed solidly with both feet on the soft grass. Dusting his hands on the back of his pants, he crossed to the back door.

Crouching close to the lock, he slipped gloves on then took the lock pick kit from his pocket. He flicked on the mini flashlight and clamped it in his teeth so he could see in the fading light. In less than a minute, he had the door open. The alarm began blaring and Evan rushed to shut it off, mentally crossing his fingers that the code hadn't been changed or he'd have to make tracks. Not a problem. His years of playing football in high school and college as well as his frequent runs around his neighborhood made him fast and light on his feet.

He tapped in the code and the alarms shut off. Breathing a sigh of relief, he flicked the light around to get his bearings.

Where should I start? He settled on the computer room.

Careful to keep the light's beam away from the window, he first searched the file cabinets, drawers and closets turning up nothing worth worrying about, not even a stash of girlie magazines or porn DVD's. The laptop computer was open but the screen was dark. Didn't matter. He had no idea how to go about hacking a password if it turned out to be protected. After organizing his thoughts and glancing at the clock on the desk, he decided that searching the rest of the house was the best use of the time he had left.

Best case, Anthony would be gone at least another ninety minutes. Worst case…

He'd just reached for the doorknob when he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive. It might have been the house next door but he couldn't be sure without leaving his hiding place because, unfortunately, there was no line of sight to the living room windows.

He shut off the flashlight and shoved it into his back pocket, waiting impatiently for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. A key in the front door confirmed Anthony was home early. The door opened, closed, and slow deliberate footsteps crossed the living room and started down the hall in his direction.

TBC