A/N: Spoilers through The Daedalus Variations

Purpose

Teyla pressed her forehead to Kanaan's. "I will join you as soon as I return. Save a cup of Ruus wine for me."

"I will," Kanaan replied. "Be safe."

"Always." She kissed the top of Torren's head, inhaling his scent. "It would not do for me to miss my son's first Tendol Feast."

At the sound of her voice, Torren looked up with a smile and snagged a fistful of her hair. When she tried to extricate herself from his grip, his face scrunched and he wailed like a wounded milaska cub. Kanaan bounced him while Teyla shushed, glancing guiltily around the gateroom.

"He does not like to be away from you."

"I know," Teyla whispered. "I will not be gone long," she promised Torren then shook her head. "Why am I trying to reason with him?"

"Because it is what you do." Kanaan smiled as he shifted Torren to his shoulder and patted his back. "Until tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow," she echoed, sighing as she watched her family step through the ring without her.

Teyla had made the decision to stay with her team and thought she had put the questions behind her until she had seen the fate of her alternate self onboard the Daedalus. Nightmares disturbed her sleep almost as often as Torren did, and his sudden clinginess served to sharpen the guilt she already felt.

Shaking off the moroseness, she hurried to the transporter, tapped the map, and stepped out near the cafeteria. She walked in and scanned the room for her team, hearing them before she saw them – Rodney's belly laugh mixed with John's stuttering guffaws and Ronon's bray. She stopped to observe from across the room; it was rare to see them so relaxed and carefree these days. She smiled in spite of herself, cheered by their good humor, and filled her tray then moved quickly to their table on the balcony.

"There you are." John kicked a chair out for her.

Teyla slipped into the seat and shook out her napkin. "I apologize for being late to dinner."

"Kanaan and Torren leave?" Ronon asked between bites of meatloaf.

"Yes." She stirred her tea and nibbled on a fry. "Torren became…anxious."

Rodney grunted. "Separation anxiety. It's common for kids his age." He glanced around the table. "What?" he asked, bits of sandwich dripping from his mouth. "Jeannie sent me a book." He shot John a dirty look. "Someone told her I dropped Torren."

"Don't look at me," John said.

A flush heated Teyla's cheeks. "It was me, Rodney. I sent her an email to thank her for the rocking chair. She replied; we began conversing…" She ducked her head in embarrassment. "She has offered many words of encouragement and advice. It was not my intention to get you in trouble with her."

"Yes, well…" Rodney cleared his throat and glanced helplessly at John who was looking anywhere but at him. "She's, um, done a good job with Madison so, you know, listening to her is probably a good idea, but don't tell her I said that. I'll never live it down."

Teyla hid a smile behind her napkin. "Your secret is safe."

Talk moved to the day's activities and she let the conversation swirl around her, lost in her own musings. While she still believed with all of her heart that the best chance to defeat the Wraith lay with Atlantis, doubts about her place here continued to arise, especially after her people's devastating encounter with Michael. With so few of them now, they struggled to plant and harvest. Food was scarce everywhere due to the decimated populations of many agricultural societies, making trade agreements more difficult than ever. Halling had made no secret of the fact that her voice was needed on the Council and during negotiations.

Her biggest question was her place on the team. She knew John valued her wisdom when they dealt with other cultures, and her ability to sense the Wraith had been invaluable on more than one occasion. But did those skills outweigh her duty to her people and her son? Others on Atlantis had excellent diplomatic skills and what they lacked in knowledge of Pegasus, Ronon could fill. Rarely did the Wraith catch them by surprise these days. Rodney's ability to track their ships made most missions relatively Wraith-free. What purpose did she serve on the team?

"Teyla?"

John's voice broke through her reverie, and when she lifted her eyes, she found her teammates staring at with concern, as if they'd been waiting for her to acknowledge them for some time.

She dropped the fork that she'd been using to carve shapes in the applesauce. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"I asked if you were ready to go. We're due to depart in half an hour." His brow furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine." She took a few quick bites of her mystery meat, wishing for Charin's delicate touch on the tough and tasteless game. "Has Mr. Woolsey approved possible trade talks?"

"Not yet." John exchanged disgusted looks with Rodney. "We're not allowed to offer food or medicine without him signing off on it first."

She frowned at him. "That will severely inhibit our ability to gain their trust at first contact."

"I told him that," John said.

"Should've told him a few other things, too," Rodney interjected. "Like where he could stuff those files."

Ronon snorted into his coffee. "Bet he's heard that before."

John grinned while stealing part of Rodney's brownie. "Wouldn't surprise me."

"Hey!" Rodney protested. "Go get your own brownie."

"Don't need to now." John stuffed the treat in his mouth. "Woolsey will learn eventually."

"Hope so," Ronon said.

"Has to," offered Rodney. "I mean, he has us as advisors."

"God help him," John muttered as he checked his watch. "Okay, the MALP indicated that sunrise on M3P-958 is in less than an hour so finish your dinner and gear up. We'll meet in the gateroom in ten. That includes you, McKay."

"Yeah, yeah." Rodney shoveled in a handful of chips. "Think we'll be back before midnight? I've got an experiment running that needs to be monitored."

"Five hours?" John cocked his head to the side. "Probably, but maybe not. Better have someone else do it. MALP didn't show any life signs in the vicinity so we may have a hike ahead of us. And before you ask, you know we can't take a jumper. Too many trees in front of the gate."

"Fine." Rodney crammed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. "But if Zelenka takes credit for it and wins the Nobel, you'll never have hot water again."

"I tremble in fear." John picked up his tray. "Ten minutes. I'm not kidding."

Teyla ignored Ronon's smirk and Rodney's grumbling as she dumped her tray and headed to the mission ready room. She flipped through the tac vests until she found her favorite and confirmed the pockets were properly stocked before slipping it on. She strapped on her thigh holster, loaded her sidearm, and slid it in the holster then snapped a magazine into a P-90 that she clipped to her vest. Rodney handed her a radio which she plugged her headset in, and they moved quickly to the gateroom where John and Ronon waited.

John nodded to Chuck and seconds later the shimmering blue of the ring beckoned to them. Teyla braced her P-90 against her shoulder and followed her team through. They exited into the pre-dawn stillness of an unknown world. The air was frigid, and the trees that stood guard around the ring bore tight buds that whispered the promise of spring. A well-traveled path cut through the bright green ferns that blanketed the ground, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.

"McKay?" John asked.

Rodney was already studying the life signs detector. "Nothing nearby." He switched to his scanner. "I'm picking up some kind of energy signal." He frowned as he adjusted the settings. "I can't get a firm read. It seems to be fluctuating."

Ronon squinted into the woods. "Wraith?"

"No, not like any Wraith signature I've seen before. In fact, I haven't seen anything like this before." Rodney shrugged. "It's somewhere in front of us. That's all I can tell you."

John shouldered his weapon and stepped off the dais. "Let's go see what it is."

Teyla allowed them to go first, scanning the area behind the ring before following after them. "Did you find any more references to this world?"

"No," Rodney answered. "Just the bit that was in the mission brief. Radek and I scoured the database for any other references to allies of the Ancients, but came up empty. Whoever the original inhabitants of this planet were, they dissolved the alliance and were never heard from again."

"Wish we knew why they dissolved it," John muttered.

"Me, too." Rodney winced and wiped his forehead. "It gets hot here quick."

Ronon shot him an incredulous look and pulled his coat tight. "Must be all that hot air."

"Ha ha."

"Got something here," John called.

Dots of light flickered through the mostly bare branches. When they rounded the next bend, Teyla could discern in the distance the shadowed forms of buildings – small, square huts with candles in the windows. The scent of burning wood wafted on a breeze that signaled sunrise was imminent.

"Time to make some friends." John grimaced and rubbed at his forehead but continued forward. "Rodney, life signs?"

"Um, yeah." Rodney swallowed thickly and pulled out the detector. "Few hundred."

John grunted, and Rodney inhaled sharply.

"What is wrong?" Teyla asked.

John waved a hand. "Just a headache." He strode forward, shoulders stiff.

Rodney shuffled to a stop and bent over, sucking in air. "Something's not right."

"Sheppard?" Ronon called.

John shook his head, shuddering as he took another step. "I… I don't-"

His body jerked once then froze, caught in a web of red beams that appeared from nowhere. He screamed as they crackled over him, his body convulsing in their grip, and then he vanished, leaving only an afterimage outlined in red.

"John!" Teyla shouted as Ronon bellowed and dove forward.

Rodney collapsed to the ground.

Ronon rolled to his feet, blaster in hand, eyes darting in every direction. "I don't have a visual."

Teyla wheeled, backing toward him and Rodney with her P-90 at ready. "Neither do I." She halted next to Rodney and pressed her fingers to his neck. "He is alive, but unconscious and his heart rate is extremely high."

Ronon knelt beside them. "What do you want to do?"

She blew out a breath, struggling to remain calm while she scanned the woods as the first rays of dawn offered their light. "I have not detected anyone here but us."

"What are you saying? That something on the planet attacked them?"

"Perhaps. Our presence may have set off some kind of trap."

Ronon's jaw tightened, a vein throbbing in his temple. "The villagers?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "I doubt it. Their structures are too primitive to house the kind of power we saw." She sighed. "Then again, I once thought the same of the Genii."

"But why not us? I was standing between Sheppard and McKay and I'm fine."

"They are different from us." Teyla scrutinized the forest again, still not sensing anyone else. "They are from another galaxy."

"And they have the Ancestral gene," Ronon finished.

She nodded. "That seems the most obvious conclusion. You should take Rodney back to Atlantis and return with help."

"What are you going to do?"

"Go to the village and ask some questions. Perhaps someone there knows what happened to John."

Ronon holstered his blaster and pulled Rodney across his shoulders then pinned her with a grim look. "Be careful."

Teyla brushed leaves from Rodney's slack face and squeezed Ronon's arm. "You as well. Be sure Mr. Woolsey understands the possibility that our assumptions are wrong, but suggest he send only non-gene bearers."

"Got it." Ronon stood and disappeared into the forest.

Teyla closed her eyes, seeking peace as she tried to center herself. Panic would not help John. Her thrumming heart slowed to close to normal, and she rose and set off for the village, determined to not leave this planet without her team leader and friend.

Her pace was rapid and the trek easy over the relatively flat terrain. When she entered the village, a wizened woman offered a toothless grin over the top of a bubbling kettle.

Teyla bowed her head. "I seek the leader of this town."

"You seek Grelin," the woman answered. "You will find him leading morning prayers at the council fire." She gestured toward the center of the village.

"Thank you."

Teyla hurried toward the gathering, studying the settlement as she went, choosing and discarding negotiation tactics based on her observations – agrarian society, no technology, large families, all-male council.

She approached the fire and waited to be acknowledged.

A stocky man finished speaking and raised his head. "I am Grelin. How may we assist you, Traveler?"

Teyla inclined her head in respect. "I am Teyla Emmagan of Athos. My companions and I came to your world to meet your people. As we traveled through the woods, a bright red light…enveloped one of them and he disappeared. Another man was injured. Have you ever experienced anything like that before?"

A loud murmur arose amongst the council, and Grelin held up his hand, waiting until the noise quieted. "Such a thing has never occurred to our knowledge. The only time men disappear is during a culling." He glanced toward the sky. "And the Wraith have never taken just one man."

"I do not believe the Wraith are responsible," Teyla replied. "Have you ever been attacked by someone other than the Wraith?"

"We have the occasional marauders after our crops."

"But no one with advanced weapons like the Wraith have?"

Grelin shook his head. "The weapon you carry looks more advanced than any we've seen before."

Teyla sighed, hoping the frustration roiling around inside her was not showing on her face. She must be missing something. What had Rodney said about the original inhabitants?

"How long have you lived on this world?" Teyla asked.

"Seventeen generations," Grelin answered, his eyes narrowing. "Do your people intend to make a claim?"

"No. I only wish to find my leader." Teyla glanced around the area. "Have you found any trace of the people who lived here before?"

Grelin moved to stand in front of her, studying her intently. Fighting her instincts, Teyla kept her gaze focused on a freckle under his eye. Finally, he nodded.

"There are ruins in the forest, but we have never explored them. They are unstable, crumbling."

"Please," Teyla's voice cracked, "take me there."

"It is very dangerous," Grelin warned.

"No blame will be placed upon you should anything happen to me. Please," Teyla begged.

"Very well. Follow me."

Grelin led her back to the path then into the woods. They traveled for a few minutes through thinning trees, the landscape becoming flatter and rockier until they reached a glade and the crumbling ruins it held. What must have once been an impressive city was now partial walls and piles of stone with the exception of the middle structure – a large, squat building with multiple sides and a domed roof with a pointed spire in the center. She spotted snatches of color on the pale gray rock – streaks of blue and purple that might have been decoration or words.

Teyla turned to the village leader and bobbed her head. "Thank you. If others dressed as I am arrive, please direct them here."

Grelin bowed slightly. "Be well, Teyla of Athos. I hope you find the one whom you seek."

She circled around the rubble, searching for an opening, finally spotting a small aperture. Thankful for the days she had spent as a child climbing every hill and tree Athos offered, she pulled herself on top of the large boulder blocking the entrance and slipped behind it. The tight fit between the stone and the wall made her pause to unclip her P-90 and remove her vest. She slid to the right until her shoulder found the gap, and she dropped her vest and gun inside. She wiggled until she was low enough to stick her head through the opening then braced her foot against the boulder behind her and launched herself inside.

Darkness enveloped her, and she patted the ground around her until she located her P-90 and switched the light on. The room was small and anything in it had long turned to dust. She grabbed her vest and crept toward another gap as small as the first. It opened into a larger room with broken pieces of wood that might have been furniture long ago. The dancing beam on her weapon made dust motes sparkle but otherwise she found nothing of value.

"John?"

Her voice crashed through the silence, and she held her breath as she listened for a reply.

Nothing.

She continued onward, swiftly and sure-footedly through tight openings and empty rooms. One led her to a hallway that was fairly open and she moved quickly down it, checking each room thoroughly, calling John's name occasionally but never receiving an answer.

The contents of the rooms grew. Some were living areas, others labs and still others with purposes she couldn't fathom. Debris blocked the entrance to a few, forcing her to pass them by after she perused them carefully and called for John. She peeked in one filled with darkened consoles and bypassed it then turned around and went back. Much time with Rodney had taught her that most answers were found in control rooms, and experience told her this was one.

She squeezed and wriggled until she was through the slabs of stone that barricaded the doorway. Thick layers of dust, dirt and rock covered the panels that were still standing and she used her vest to clean off as much as she could, trying not to imagine how much she was inhaling then wondering exactly how much of Rodney McKay had rubbed off on her.

When a console in the far corner hummed under her hands, tears pricked and sliced through the grime on her cheeks. Finally, evidence that this might not be a fool's errand, that perhaps this place had enough power to snatch John from them. Teyla pulled gauze from her vest and scrubbed the panel displays, frowning as unfamiliar symbols flashed. She scrubbed a bit more and realized the symbols weren't foreign as she'd first thought, but rather a language that she hadn't seen since her youth – a formal, almost archaic form of the standard trade language. Her father had spoken it on rare occasions, usually in initial negotiations with a new trade partner.

She was still translating the few words she recognized when her radio crackled.

"Teyla?"

A little of the burden that had been crushing her lightened at his voice. "Ronon? Where are you? How is Rodney?"

"Keller says he'll be fine. Something about heightened neuro… something about more activity in the pain center in his brain. The guy in the village said you were in these ruins. How'd you get in there?"

"A small opening-"

"Never mind," Ronon cut in. "Found your tracks."

"Did you bring assistance?"

"Yeah. Got Zelenka and a team of Marines. You crawled through this crack in the wall?"

She smiled at the incredulity in his voice. Sometimes it was good to be small. "Yes. I am in a control room, but I have not found any sign of John."

"Teyla, this is Radek." A series of grunts and mumbled curses were mixed in with a scraping sound. Then, "Ouch! No, no, I am fine." He cleared his throat. "I am inside the complex. Where are you?"

"Can you see my footprints in the dirt?" she asked.

"Um…yes. I am coming to you."

"If you reach a point in which you are uncertain, stop. I will find you."

"I understand."

While she waited for him to arrive, she continued to clean off the consoles that were powered up. After several agonizing minutes, she heard Radek's voice echo in the hallway.

She stuck on arm between the massive rocks in the entrance. "I am in here!" she called, waving her hand.

"Oh, yes, there you are." Radek's face appeared, dust covering his hair and face, finger-sized streaks on his glasses. "How did you get in there?"

She showed him the opening and helped him squeeze through. He coughed, apologized then sneezed loudly as he wiped his eyewear on the inside of his shirt. Teyla patted his shoulder then pulled him across the room and showed him the consoles.

Radek frowned at the read-outs. "I do not recognize this language."

"It is very old," Teyla said.

His brows shot up. "You can read it?"

"A few of the words."

He whipped out a laptop and plopped in the floor, a dust cloud rising around him while he shone his flashlight inside and searched for a place to connect. He finally got a panel open and peered in. "Hmmm… this might take a minute."

While he worked, she pried the panels open on the other working consoles. One of the flashing symbols caught her eye and she slowly sounded it out in her head until it formed a word she knew. When she toggled the switch underneath it, harsh yellow light flooded the room.

Radek's head jerked up. "What did you do?"

She pointed at the console. "Lights," she explained with a sheepish smile.

He nodded in appreciation. "That will make this much easier."

Minutes later, he stood and dusted off his pants. "I believe I am connected. Now," he tapped on the tablet, "to translate. Tell me which words you know."

She pointed out the words she remembered from childhood and he diligently typed them in.

"Anything else?"

"No. I am sorry."

He shook his head. "I think this will be enough for the translation program to work, though it will take some time."

She glanced around the room, feeling useless. "Then I shall continue exploring."

At his absent nod, she crawled back into the poorly lit corridor and headed deeper into the complex. She kept her comm channel open, relaying the results of her search to Ronon who was stomping so hard in the rubble that the radio picked up the sound of rocks skittering and cracking under his boots.

"Be calm, Ronon," she advised. "We will find him."

"I should be doing something," he barked.

"We do not know if he is in here." She pushed against a heavy door that didn't budge. "You could search elsewhere."

The stomping paused. "Where?"

She sighed and leaned against the door, shoving with all her might. "If I knew, I would be searching there myself."

"Lorne's on Atlantis, trying to figure out a way to get a jumper here." Rocks crunched again. "What if that beam took him to a ship or another planet?"

The door swung open enough for her to wriggle through. "One worry at a time." She glared at an identical door on the other end of the hallway then hurried toward it. "Let's keep our focus here for now."

She pushed through the next door and gasped as a bolt of pain shot through her head.

"What's wrong? What's that sound?" Ronon demanded.

Teyla clenched her eyes shut. "What sound?"

"High-pitched whine. You can't hear it?"

"No, but I believe it is making my head hurt."

She braced a hand against the wall and breathed through her mouth until her equilibrium righted. Squinting into the flickering light, she bit back a curse at the sight of another door. She trudged forward, ignoring the tears sliding down her face, and slipped into the next hallway. Rooms lined both sides of the corridor and a woman's voice droned mechanically.

"Who's that talking?" Ronon asked.

"I believe it is some kind of…" She concentrated, the noise separating into words. Her brows shot up. "It is the Ancestral tongue. 'Creator of Wraith…Bringer of death…' Something else I cannot understand."

"Can you-"

"Quiet," she ordered. "I hear something." She closed her eyes, blocking out the headache and the voice, straining to hear the scrap of sound that had caught her attention.

A low moan echoed faintly in the hall.

"John!" she cried.

She raced past several empty rooms then stumbled to a stop in front of one that shimmered around the edges. Forcefield, her mind supplied. In the faint light, she could make out a form curled in a ball in the far corner, shuddering violently.

"John!"

The form didn't react. She shone her light inside and felt her knees wobble as it illuminated a black wristband on an arm wrapped tightly around a dark-haired head.

"I have found him! Radek, can you shut down the forcefield?"

"What forcefield?" Radek replied. "I don't know where you are."

"Can you shoot it?" Ronon asked.

"No," Teyla answered, spotting shell casings littering the cell. "John has already tried." She decided to not mention the puddle of vomit. "We must do something. He is in great pain."

"I am trying," Radek said, "but the translation program is still running. I could make things worse if I push the wrong button."

Teyla backed up a step and studied the cell door. "I have found the controls. It is a keypad like Atlantis has, but I do not recognize the symbols."

She whirled, spying the same keypad on the other doors in the hallway. A memory glimmered in the back of her mind – one of those ridiculous movies John liked so much that sent Rodney into a fit over plot holes and highly unlikely scenarios. She darted to the nearest keypad and scrutinized it then moved to the next and the next. The same four symbols on several keypads were heavily scratched.

Teyla dashed back to John's cell and pressed the four symbols, but nothing happened. She tried a different combination. Still nothing. Undeterred, she tried again. On the fifteenth combination, the shield dropped.

"John?" She moved inside cautiously. "John, it's Teyla." She dropped to a knee next to him and touched his shoulder. "John?"

He cried out at her touch and pulled away from her, eyes clenched shut and arms wrapped around his head.

"I am here to help you," she murmured. "Please let me."

He gasped when she brushed her fingers over his hand.

"John?"

His hands flexed around his ears, and he opened his eyes then slammed them shut. "Teyla?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yes."

John jerked away when her hand trailed over his. "Please, don't. Don't touch me." His breath hitched. "It hurts."

"What hurts?"

"Everything." He groaned and pushed himself up with one hand. "Even where my clothes touch my skin." He swallowed thickly and plucked at his collar.

"All right," Teyla agreed. "Can you walk?"

He nodded minutely and climbed to his feet, staggering slightly. He trembled as he followed her out of the cell and down the corridor. She tugged on the door until it opened enough that he could slip through without brushing against it. He hunched over and shuffled along beside her as if he bore a great burden on his back, but he seemed to relax a bit when they left the droning voice behind. She pulled on the last heavy door that separated them from the rest of the complex and felt her headache drop away when she walked through.

John staggered like a drunk, his head down and his face frozen in a grimace of pain. "You okay?" he asked.

"I am fine," she answered softly. "Only you and Rodney were affected. He will be fine," she assured him when his head lifted, eyes wide. "He is on Atlantis."

"Good," John mumbled. "What the hell happened?"

She explained what she had seen and her subsequent search. "What do you remember?"

"Not much," he admitted. "Felt like I got hit by a lightning bolt then I was in that cell and my head was splitting open." His eyes closed. "Thought I was getting life-sucked by a Wraith for a minute." He sighed. "I tried shooting at the forcefield but that only made things worse. Don't remember anything after that. How long?"

She glanced at her timepiece. "About four hours." She stopped in front of the control room. "Radek?"

A dusty face peered out. "Colonel Sheppard! Good to see you!"

John recoiled with a wince.

"Quietly, Radek," Teyla advised.

"Yes, yes, sorry," Radek murmured. "The translation has finished. This place was built by the Refrellum, former allies of the Ancients. It seems relations between the two became rocky when the Refrellum discovered the Ancients had unwittingly created the Wraith, but the final blow was the Replicators. The Refrellum objected strenuously to the creation of a race of sentient constructs built to do the Ancients' bidding, basically slaves. When the Ancients rejected their counsel, they broke ties and relocated to this world. This complex houses a security system against all their enemies, including Ancients."

"Damn gene," John muttered, weaving slightly, his eyes barely open.

"Apparently it also has the ability to fire at ships, including jumpers." He held up a hand. "I have already informed Atlantis. It has similar defenses against the Replicators and Wraith, but those systems," he waved at some of the dead consoles, "are not functioning."

"That is why I was not affected," Teyla surmised. "And why the Wraith can cull."

"Yes, but I think-"

John moaned and slumped to the floor, chest heaving.

Teyla knelt by him. "John?"

He took a few ragged breaths then opened one eye. "Sorry. Not feeling so good."

She nodded. "We will get you home." She moved back to the stone barrier between her and Radek. "We will not be able to get John out the way we came in. Is there another way out?"

"Let me check." Radek hurried away then returned. "Yes. The diagram shows another hallway branching off two rooms back. Sensors indicate the area is mostly clear. I have shut off the security system. Colonel Sheppard should not be attacked again."

Teyla keyed her comm. "Ronon?"

"Been listening. We'll be looking for you."

She turned to John, his face haggard and lined with pain. Part of her wished he would give up and pass out, but the rest of her was proud that he was still fighting. He would not be John Sheppard otherwise. "Are you ready?" she asked, holding out a hand.

He winced but clasped her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. She let Radek lead and held back until John followed him. She kept her hands on her P-90 and every sense attuned to their surroundings. John staggered along valiantly for a while but by the time they reached the new corridor, his head hung between his shoulders. He took a few more steps then dropped to his hands and knees, retching, tears trickling down his face. Teyla reached for him then stopped herself, fighting against her natural impulse to comfort him. His arms shook and his head drooped low. When he slid sideways, she darted to his side and caught him.

"Radek," she called.

He moved to John's other side. They pulled John's arms over their shoulders and stood, skirting around the mess in the floor and dragging him toward the exit. After a few endless minutes, the stale air and harsh yellow light gave way to sunbeams and the moist scent of the forest. They emerged into daylight.

"Ronon!" Teyla called.

"Here!" Rocks scattered as Ronon's form clambered over a boulder. "What happened?"

"The pain was too great."

Ronon grunted an acknowledgement as he scooped John in his arms. "Reardon!"

"We're ready," a voice replied.

Ronon hefted John over the boulder then scrambled up and followed. By the time Teyla and Radek climbed over, Ronon and John were gone and four Marines were staring off into the forest.

"Lieutenant?" Teyla questioned.

Reardon flushed. "No one can keep up with him even with him carrying the colonel."

Relief and exhaustion made her legs shake but she did not give up easily either. "I believe I shall try."

She dashed into the forest, following the snapped branches and trampled ferns Ronon left behind. The few seconds he had to spend to dial and input his IDC were enough for her to catch him, and when they stepped through to Atlantis, they found a med team and Woolsey waiting in the gateroom.

Woolsey moved next to them, his eyes not leaving the gurney where John lay. "Excellent work."

Teyla dipped her head. "Thank you." She hesitated as the med team raced away.

"Go," Woolsey said. "We'll talk later."

She hurried down the hallway toward the medical suite, Ronon at her side.

"You did good, finding him like that," he said.

Teyla shook her head. "He was in so much pain…"

"Sheppard's as tough as they come. He'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"He will." Ronon nudged her arm. "He and McKay will be arguing with each other like always before you know it."

She offered a small smile. "I will welcome the sound."

When they entered the infirmary, medical personnel thronged around a bed that a nurse was cordoning off with a privacy screen. Teyla recognized John's boot on the floor and sighed, knowing they would have to wait for Jennifer's report. They headed down the hall until they found Rodney's room. Other than the occasional shaky breath, he was sleeping soundly so she moved a chair to his bedside and sat down.

"Um…" Ronon's eyes flicked over her. "I don't think Keller's going to let you stay in here like that."

"What?" Teyla glanced down. "Oh." She was covered in so much dust, her arms and hands were gray. "I will return."

She hurried to her quarters, flinging her vest and weapons in a corner, then stripped and showered. She had to wash her hair three times before the water ran clean. She pulled on a soft blouse and skirt, slipped on a pair of sandals, and tied her hair back as she walked to the infirmary, arriving as a tech and Jennifer were wheeling John in.

"How is he?" Teyla asked.

Jennifer positioned the IV pole and attached the leads on his hand and chest to the monitors. "He is suffering the same effects as Rodney, only to a much higher extent," she whispered. "All of his senses seem to be hypersensitive so we will need to keep light and sound to a minimum until it wears off."

Teyla frowned. "Can nothing be done to help him?"

"I have him on painkillers which should help some, but the neurological shock has to dissipate on its own." Jennifer shook her head. "Whatever was in that beam really did a number on him."

"Not sure it was all in the beam," Ronon said. "Beam didn't hit McKay."

Teyla nodded. "And they were both feeling ill before it appeared."

"Why didn't it take Rodney?" Jennifer asked.

Ronon shrugged. "They were standing a few feet apart. Maybe McKay was out of range."

Jennifer glanced from John to Rodney and back. "I bet the beam enhanced the effects based on the heightened activity on Colonel Sheppard's scans." She turned when the door opened. "Mr. Woolsey."

"Doctor. How is he?"

Teyla turned her attention back to John while Jennifer repeated her report. John's face was still pinched with pain, and his breath stuttered at times, but he had a little color in his cheeks and the tremors had stopped.

"Teyla?"

She glanced up at Mr. Woolsey. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

He cleared his throat and clasped his hands in front of him. "Doctor Zelenka has given me his preliminary report and requested to take a team back to the planet to study the ruins. He thinks he may find some valuable data on how to fight the Wraith. I am hesitant to allow him to do so without the blessings of the local populace."

She inclined her head. "A wise decision."

"Yes, well, I would like you to go back to negotiate for the right for us to explore the ruins."

She looked down at John. "You have many skilled diplomats." She turned back to him. "Surely you have someone else who could negotiate."

Mr. Woolsey appeared genuinely shocked. "We have no one with your level of skills or expertise, and your knowledge of the cultural nuances is invaluable." He schooled his features, and only someone with her abilities could detect the dismay in his eyes. "However, I will understand if you have other duties to attend."

Teyla curled her fingers to prevent herself from grasping John's hand. "How soon did you anticipate the negotiations beginning?"

"As soon as possible. Perhaps in a day or two?"

She nodded. "I have a Tendol Feast to attend after John awakens. I will go afterward."

"Of course. I will inform Doctor Zelenka." Mr. Woolsey rocked back on his heels then nodded and left.

"What was that about?" Ronon asked. "Since when don't you like to talk people into doing what you want them to do?"

"It is not a matter of like or dislike. I was merely pointing out that there are others who can do what I do."

Ronon snorted. "Right."

"What does that mean?"

"Nobody can do it like you." He slouched in his chair and stretched his legs. "Like the way Sheppard flies or McKay makes stuff work. Other people can do it, but not like them. Sheppard says all the time that they wouldn't have survived the first year without you." Ronon grinned at her. "You've talked all of us either out of something stupid or into something that saved our lives."

"I am pleased to know you were listening." Flustered, she reached for John's hand without thinking.

John groaned and blinked sluggishly. When she tried to pull her hand away, his fingers tightened around hers. "Teyla?"

"Yes. How are you feeling?"

"Drugged," he mumbled. "We home?"

"We are. You are safe now."

"Thank you," he whispered.

John took a shuddering breath and dropped into sleep, tension seeping from his body. His grip on her hand remained so she scooted her chair closer and laid her other hand on top of his. Ronon moved between John's and Rodney's beds then stretched out again and fell asleep immediately like only he could.

Teyla smiled to herself as she watched over her team – her other family. Atlantis was as much her home as Athos, and these people were her people as well, especially the three men in this room. Her duty to Torren including giving him the chance to grow up free of the Wraith, and if a word from her would help accomplish that then her place was here. Something inside that had torn loose aboard the alternate Daedalus settled into place, and she breathed freely for the first time in weeks.

She sat back and smiled, anticipating the glass of Ruus wine that awaited her at the Feast. Perhaps she would bring some back for her teammates to enjoy. After all, the photos of them from last time still appeared occasionally.

When she needed them to.

Not all negotiations required words.

Written for the flashfic picture challenge on sheppard h/c comm. Thanks to coolbreeze1 for the beta. All faults mine.