The scanner had picked up a signal just off the coast and Elizabeth sent out two jumpers, each with two soldiers. They were her last pilots and medical trained marines.
Meanwhile it was nearly dark, so they had to wait a long time to receive the first report. Word came back they had found pieces from the Dart and had traced them back in direction to the coast.
Finally after another hour there was the news they all were anticipating.

"We found him, Dr. Weir. He's on board of jumper two now. ETA in 15 minutes."
Elizabeth's heart began to race. "How is he?"
"His first question was 'what took you guys so long?'"
All people in the control room were laughing hysterically. So was Elizabeth.
"Bring him home, Sergeant."
"Yes, ma'am."
Turning the jumper towards Atlantis, the last thing, Sergeant Markham saw was a great fire on the coast.

When the Drone reached the mainland he reduced altitude and tried to keep the Dart just above the trees.
He was a good pilot and normally he wouldn't forget about checking the controls constantly, but he was focused on his goal and how his achievement would make the Queen think well of him.
He knew that he would never be her favorite. At least he would die knowing he had pleased her at last.
The other warriors would speak of him, remember him for what he did. He would become a legend and live on in their memories.

He reached the Athosian settlement faster than he'd expected and prepared to go down further, skimming the coast and water surface.
It was dark outside the settlement so he saw the grenade illuminating the sky before it hit. It smashed into the Dart, sending him to the ground in flames.
"Sheppard!" he cried out, cursing his name, until the fire had completely engulfed him.

The short flight, a fully opened heating system and two blankets hadn't been sufficient to warm him up, but when the jumper door opened in the bay, he stood up by himself and presented his best Sheppard grin.
Taking a last swig off the water bottle he threw it aside and walked towards Elizabeth. He saw that she had been crying, but now she was smiling at him.

"Colonel Sheppard. It's so good to have you back, safe and sound."
He enjoyed her embrace and thought - home, I'm really home again.
"It's good to be back, Elizabeth. What about my team, the marines … are they Ok?"

She let him go and examined him from head to toe. He looked like hell. Hair messier then ever, a bloody wound over his right eye and the man dripping wet. But he was on his feet, and the most important thing – he was back. He looked gorgeous.
"We have a lot of wounded, but fortunately no one died. Rodney and Teyla are seriously injured, but Ronon is mostly Ok. You'll see for yourself when you report to the infirmary."

"So the welcome home party is over?"
"I'm afraid so. Dr. Beckett is anxious to get you under the scanner."
"Ok."
John sighed theatrical, limped forward a few steps and turned around again.
"But we're having a couple beers soon, promise?"
"Alright, I promise."
She had not failed to notice the limp.
"Do you need a wheelchair?"
"Nah, just some back pain. I can walk."

When the doors of the transporter closed, his old friend Dizzy came back and forced him to lean against the wall to avoid falling down.
Great idea to refuse assistance …
John was thankful for the short ride to the infirmary and made his painful way through the populated hallway. The soldiers who weren't sleeping greeted him smiling, some gave him the thumbs up when he asked them how they were doing.
He had never seen so many patients in Atlantis' sick bay.
Walking was almost impossible now. He shuffled along, his right leg burning. The pain in his back and chest nearly taking his breath away.
When he saw a nurse rushing through the chaos, he rasped: "Where's Beckett?"
"He's in surgery with an emergency. Just sit down somewhere. I'll send someone to look at that gash over your eye."
"Thanks."

He'd almost forgotten about the gash.
Sit down somewhere.
He liked the idea, but there wasn't a seat and there was no chance that he would be able to rise up from the ground again.
John's vision began to blur and he tumbled against a door that opened to a supply room. It was dark but the light beam from the hallway fell onto a silver transport case.
He sank down, groaning in agony when his legs made contact with the solid material of the box.
Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the shelf with clean towels he thought: I can wait a little while longer. Easy as …
He was out before his body went limp and he crashed onto the floor.

Peter Grodin received another message from the Athosians while Dr. Weir was with the colonel. It was from Toran. He was worried. They had seen another single Dart.
"They could be spies, looking for the best way to attack Atlantis."
"No, they're not spies", Peter reassured him.
"How do you know? They had no interest in the mainland, they were heading directly for Atlantis."

Peter had talked to Elizabeth about the fact the Athosians – accidently of course – had shot down the colonel. They had to learn about it eventually.
"Colonel Sheppard was in the first Dart. I'm assuming that the second Dart was following him to try and kill him."
There was a long pause at the other end, then Toran asked in a quivering voice: "Colonel Shep … Sheppard was … in the Dart, I …"

The Colonel was highly respected among the Athosians and Peter had compassion for this young man, who he knew admired Sheppard.
"You couldn't have known, Toran. In this situation you did the right thing. Colonel Sheppard will tell you just the same."
"He … he survived?"
"Yes, he did. We found him and he seems Ok except for some minor injuries."
It took him a few more minutes to calm the young man and to talk him out of the idea to come to Atlantis right away.

After scrubbing his hands and gulping down two glasses of water, Dr. Beckett touched his micro to speak to Dr. Weir.
"Rodney is out of the OR, Elizabeth. We got him stabilized again, but it was touch-and-go for a while. He's in ICU again."
He heard the exhaustion in his voice himself and quickly did the math. Three days without sleep and a decent meal. If he didn't get both soon, he would be a casualty himself.

"How is the Colonel?"
"Colonel Sheppard is back?"
"Yes, they found him 2 hours ago. He seemed to be relatively well, apart from a bloody scratch on his forehead and some back pain he complained about. I sent him straight to the infirmary."
"Aye … well … I'm only out the OR a few minutes. I'll go look for him and report back to you."
"Thanks, Carson. I'll be down there soon."

Half an hour later, after they'd searched the whole infirmary and asked every member of the medical personnel, they got together in Carson's office.
Colonel Sheppard wasn't in the infirmary.
"Cheeky bugger."
Carson rubbed one hand through his hair and Elizabeth saw that it stood up almost almost as much as Sheppard's.
"You said that he was feeling Ok?"
"He seemed Ok. He was cold of course. Soaking wet and tired, but apart from that …"
"Perhaps he went to his quarters to change into something warm and dry. Then, being tired and all, he crashed on his bed. That would be very Sheppard."
"Could be. He rarely does what is expected of him."
Elizabeth smiled and tapped on her earpiece.
"Is someone close to Colonel Sheppard's quarters?"
"I am, ma'am", answered captain Howard.
"Take a look into his room and send the Colonel to the infirmary ASAP."
"Yes, ma'am."

Suddenly a shrill yelp was heard and something clattered on the floor.
Carson was out on the hallway in a matter of seconds, heading to the storage room where several people were standing.
What he saw in the strong neon light alarmed him. He couldn't blame Rosalie for crying and dropping the kidney dishes she had been looking for.
Colonel Sheppard was curled up in front of a transport case lying in a huge pool of blood. His face was almost grey and his breathing sounded labored and congested.
"Gurney, STAT!" ordered Carson. "Take him to the OR!"

Here she was again, sitting and waiting for the doctors to bring the good news. Or the bad …
Next to Elizabeth sat Ronon in a wheelchair. She had informed him about the colonel and he had insisted he would wait with her.

It took a long time to stabilize the barely living patient. John was dehydrated, suffering from hypothermia and massive blood loss.
It took hours before they were able to perform the necessary surgery.
Carson and his colleagues removed a 3 inch long piece from the Dart out of John's right thigh. It had caused the bleeding. Thankfully, lying in cold water for so long had slowed down the blood flow.
There were two broken ribs and the deep gash over his right eye.
He also had bruised kidneys, countless hematomas on both arms but the concussion would heal over the course of time. Unfortunately he had developed pneumonia, but Carson hoped for a full recovery.

He couldn't speak to Elizabeth though, because a few minutes after the surgery, Dr. Beckett collapsed and became a patient himself.
He was put to bed with an IV and ordered to rest for the next 10 hours.

"You always have to have the last word, Sheppard, don't you? That's not a likable trait, you know? I was VERY sick. In a coma for over a week with pressure to my brain. Do you hear me? Pressure … to my BRAIN! I could have ended brain dead or worse."
"Shhhh."
Rodney looked around and hunched his shoulders while the young doctor only shook his head.
He placed his chair closer to John's bed and resumed his complaints.
"You proved your point, Sheppard. You can stay longer in a coma then anybody else in Atlantis. You happy now? It's only annoying though, speaking to the living dead. Wake up!"
He shook Sheppard's arm and was about to shake harder when Ronon and Teyla came into the room.
The Satedan was behind Rodney like a flash and caught his arm in mid-air.
"Stop it, McKay. You'll only hurt him."
"Hurt him?" Rodney was insulted.
"If that hurts, my cat would have snarled continually."

"He's no cat, Rodney. And Ronon is right, you may hurt him, because he's still very fragile. We're all frustrated that he wouldn't wake up."
Teyla carefully placed her crutches at the edge of John's bed and sat down on the second chair.
"Frustrated is an understated expression for my feelings. Carson told us that he's doing better day by day, but I can't see it. He still needs all this equipment and a nurse round the clock."
"But he does not need the respirator anymore."
Teyla tried to lighten the mood.

John had been in a coma for more then three weeks now. For the first two he had been on the respirator and several other machines she didn't know by name. When they were finally allowed to see him, they had all been shocked at how bad he looked. John looked so frail that they very much doubted Carson's assurance that he was on the mend. It had looked like their friend had been on his farewell tour - yet he was still holding on.

Carson and Elizabeth entered the room, placing themselves at the bottom of John's bed.
"I'm glad you're all here, so we can take the opportunity to have a little informal meeting."
They all glanced at Elizabeth in their newly characteristic stance. Ronon was overprotective, Teyla appeared a little nervous and Rodney was more intolerable as usual. Carson was suspiciously cheerful. She, as the leader of Atlantis, was trying to hold it all together.
She was glad to have them all here with John. She wanted to make them feel that they, along with Carson, were still a team. They were John's team. She still wanted to reassure them John would recover. He was still their military commander.

"I'm happy to tell you things have improved thanks to the devoted work of the medical department. All of those with minor injuries are either back in their quarters or already working again. The number of the badly wounded has dropped to 2, including the colonel. The Cresdans have been relocated on PX-9217 and Stargate Command is very pleased how we have managed the crisis."
When nobody threw confetti or shouted 'hooray', Carson rose to speak.
"I know that you're all worried about the Colonel, but he's fighting like I had expected him to do. His wounds and ribs are healing nicely and antibiotics have finally taken care of his pneumonia."
"But he's still in a coma."
"Yes, Rodney, he is. The Colonel's very weak, but I ordered a new locomotor system to help improve his muscles and strength. The Daedalus will ship it in tomorrow."

"Ship."
The croaking startled them and they looked expectantly at John's face.
He hadn't moved, but when Rodney asked "What ship?" he whispered "There was a ship."

The doctor took his pulse and talked to him quietly.
"Can you open your eyes, John? Your team is here. Elizabeth too. We would all really like to see your eyes."
John recalled how tough this eye-opening task had felt the last time. Now he felt better. The pain wasn't too bad either. He decided to give it a try.
"Hey, that's great. You're doing well, John."
A smiling Carson came into his field of vision, then Elizabeth, Teyla, Ronon and Rodney. The latter looked grumpier than ever.

The colonel was confused. He couldn't think of something he'd done wrong.
"'M sorry."
It couldn't hurt to say that.
"What are you sorry about?" Elizabeth was puzzled.
"Hiding in that closet? I must have dozed off … it wasn't intentional."
"It's Ok. Nobody is going to blame you. You couldn't help being sick."
Elizabeth had walked to his side and had taken his left hand into hers. When John squeezed her fingers, it was like all her wishes had become true.

"What ship?"
Of course, Rodney wouldn't let this slip.
"When I floated in the ocean, there was a ship. Really big ship – a three-master, sailing slowly towards me."
Rodney looked at him horrified. John had lost it. They would never go through the Stargate again with him. He would be sent home, to harass the nurses at some looney bin on Earth.
When there was no response, John took back his hand and closed his eyes. He felt like a fool. Rodney had looked at him as if he'd lost it.
The rest had tried to hide it, but they'd all traded bewildered looks. When John didn't open his eyes again, Carson sent them out.

"Give the Colonel a little time to rest. You can come back tomorrow."
John was relieved when they left. He was exhausted, but when he sensed the doctor adjusting his IV, he opened his eyes a crack and murmured "Thank you, Carson."
"You're welcome."
"I'm not nuts, you know? There really was a ship."
"Sure, son. If you say so, I believe you."
John heard the forced conviction in Carson's voice but for now, he let it go.

"He's completely nuts, crazy, gone bananas … there never was a ship on the Atlantis sea!"
John's team members were sitting in Teyla's room with some coffee and dessert from lunch. Teyla, propped up in her bed, was worried but she was ready to give her team leader the benefit of doubt.
"John is not nuts. We should take his memories serious and let him explain what he saw."
"Oh well, support the loopy with their delusion. Great idea."
Rodney fiddled with his tablet computer.

"Why are you so aggressive?" Ronon was disappointed that Sheppard had been so subdued. Normally his friend was joking after bouncing back from the edge of death and suggesting a sparring match. He didn't like the quiet Sheppard.
"Aggressive? You call ME aggressive? I'm realistic. Here …" He showed them his computer screen with a three-master ship under sail.
"Look at this and tell me, who would have built something like this and thrown it through space right into our sea."
Ronon leaned forward and examined the photo.
"I've never seen anything like it."
"Ha." Rodney lifted his head and smirked.

Teyla was lost in thought. Her friends were right of course. It was impossible that such a ship had appeared out of nowhere. But she couldn't believe that John had gone insane. He was the military leader of Atlantis, a great soldier and a dear friend.
John was still very sick. It was possible he'd seen the ship in a nightmare or had imagined it while lying in the icy water believing he would die.
Teyla decided she would speak to him and try to find out the truth.

Elizabeth's thoughts were very similar. She sat in her office, undecided what to write into her report for Stargate Command.
She didn't want to believe John was a confused colonel, unable to distinguish between reality and imagination.
Their friendship had become strong over the time they'd been working closely together. He was the only one who could make her feel safe solely on account of his presence and he always was the first person she thought of when she had to discuss personal and official matters.
She needed him. She needed him to be the old John again.
With a deep sigh she opened her laptop.
She would write a short notice about Sheppard's recovery. She would only reveal the details by request.
Later she would talk to John again and try to find out the truth.

It was in his job description to care, but this time Carson worried about his favorite patient a great deal.
Normally he had to throw out visitors on a regular basis, but this time the colonel had been left pretty much alone. There was too much time for him to think, to get depressed and to feel abandoned.

Toran had come to visit and ask for forgiveness. The young man was full of guilt, but had left feeling better after he'd learned the colonel held no grudge against him. In the contrary, John praised his courage and alertness.
Rodney and Ronon hadn't visited again after their informal meeting on the day John had woken for the first time. That was 4 days ago.
Teyla came once but had left after only half an hour. He couldn't blame her. The colonel had only given one word answers.
Elizabeth visited every afternoon. She sat by his bed for one or two hours, speaking little but showing that she cared.
Carson knew that John longed for this time with her.
He was depressed, yes, but if Elizabeth had abandoned him too, he would be devastated.
As his doctor, Carson was satisfied with his recovery. He could go to the bathroom by himself and did his exercises with the "Locomotive" regularly.
He smiled inwardly. No matter how depressed – John Sheppard would always name things.

When Elizabeth left for the day, Carson went to his patient and checked his bandages.
"How are you feeling, John?"
"I'm Ok, Carson, thanks. A little tired."
Not even once had the colonel asked when he was allowed to leave the infirmary, to get rid of the IV or could start to work again. It wasn't like him.
"Do you want to talk?"
"About what?"
"Uh … ships?"

John let out a low groan.
"No, not really, but …" He dragged one finger along the new scar above his right eye.
"I wish someone would finally say it aloud."
Carson waited. Maybe the colonel would unburden himself. He was relieved when he continued.
"That … that I've lost it. That I've gone haywire. That I …"
His voice was suddenly only a hoarse whisper.
"That I won't be allowed to lead my team anymore …"
He choked, rolled to the side and curled up like a frightened child.
"You could always speak to Dr. Heightmeyer."
"Yeah, sure." John spat out. "That would seal it then."
"No, I don't think that you're delusional. She will say the same thing. But you have to trust yourself again. You need to show them you're still John Sheppard. Don't wait for them to come and speak to you. Go to them – or better, get in a wheelchair and find them. Speak to them. Show them they can still trust you."
"How?"
He wasn't actually whining, was he?
"Like you always do, Colonel! Just remember your strength."

Carson left quietly, leaving him a bunch of things to consider and think about.
John hauled up the "Locomotive", put his legs into the treadles and started to think.
Two hours later he had his plan of action ready.
First thing in the morning – shrink talk. Ugh, that promised to become the highlight of the week.
Second – talk to Elizabeth, ask, if she was willing to let him resume his work as military commander.
Third – talk to his team … and listen …
He was bone tired. He went to the bathroom to take care of business and changed into a pair of new sweatpants. Despite his troubled thoughts, sleep would come easily this night.

As soon as he was snuggled up in bed again, the door crashed open and Rodney rushed to the bed, waving his tablet computer.
"There WAS a ship. For crying out loud, there WAS a ship!"
"Welcome to my world, Rodney."
"Huh? Yeah, whatever."
He threw the computer onto John's bed, letting himself flop on the chair.
"Did you know that you experienced a fairly unusual atmospheric condition out there, swimming in the sea?"
"No, I was busy trying to stay alive."
"Haha, funny. Do you remember it being very hot the last weeks before Cresda?"
"Rodney, please stop asking dumb questions and just spill it."

John crossed his arms and looked slightly amused at the agitated scientist. He was delighted to see his friend again, but he wouldn't tell him that.
"Ok, it was very hot 5 or 6 weeks in a row. You wore shorts on your free day … ahem, something I'm not keen on seeing again, by the way."
"Rodney!"
"Right. So it was cloudless and hot through the whole evacuation days until the last day when it began to get very humid."
When John opened his mouth to say something about meteorology to be a fascinating topic, but what the hell had it to do with him seeing a sailing ship, Rodney raised his hand and continued.

"On the day you crashed Dart into the ocean, the sea and air were still unusually warm. That's actually the reason why you survived in the water so long."
Rodney stopped for a moment to think about what he'd just said. It still was a miracle that John hadn't frozen to death.
"Anyway, right before you crashed, a huge cold front reached Atlantis, a storm began and the cold, dry air formed some kind of shield above the water. Tada."
The scientist grinned and looked up to John who sat there, more puzzled then before.
"And this is important why exactly?"
"Look at this, Mensa boy."

Rodney gave him the computer and John studied the screen for several minutes. Then he looked right into Rodney's eyes.
"A Fata Morgana? Are you sure?"
"Hundred percent. It's a well-known phenomenon not only in the desert but also at sea. You even can see it, driving on the highway, when the sky is reflected on the hot asphalt, looking like water."
John let the words sink in. A Fata Morgana … a well-known phenomenon … a weather pattern.
He wasn't crazy at all.
"So … you believe me then?"
Rodney fiddled with the blanket, his heart beating in his throat.

"It means a lot that you came and told me about this. Thanks, Rodney."
John's words let him blush with shame.
"I'm really sorry, John. Of course I believe you", he croaked.
"I wanted to believe you all the time, but I was afraid, that …"
"Me too. Let's forget it and look forward. Have you had dinner already?"
"Uh no, actually I'm starved."
Rodney gave him a lopsided grin.
"You know, all that weather research really wore me out. But it's physics after all."
He shrugged, then rolled his eyes and when John began to laugh, he couldn't contain himself any longer and burst into a spontaneous laughter.
John recovered first.
"Go get the others and we'll grab something to eat. Oh, and ask for cake. I'm not allowed to have it, but what Carson doesn't know … won't hurt him. Since I'm not allowed any beer don't forget the soft drinks."
Rodney stood up and saluted.
"Yes sir, boss – at your command."

"Friend", John added and got an echo: "Friend!"
He closed his eyes, sat back smiling and sighed happily.

A/N

In ancient times it was believed that Fata Morgana was the work of witches and sorcerers so they were named in honor of King Arthur's half-sister Morgan Le Fay. Morgan or Morgen, as she was known then, was a shape shifter and sorceress, a diligent student of Merlin, and generally a magical being.
A Fata Morgana superior mirage of a ship can take many different forms. Even when the boat in the mirage does not seem to be suspended in the air, it still looks ghostly, and unusual, and what is even more important, it is ever-changing in its appearance. Sometimes a Fata Morgana causes a ship to appear to float inside the waves, at other times an inverted ship appears to sail above its "real" companion.