Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis - and all the characters and settings related to the show - do not belong to me, obviously. That credit goes to MGM, Brad Wright and Robert C. Cooper. The plot of this little story, however, does.

A/N – Hi, one and all, and welcome to the next instalment of my story! First off, I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post this chapter. I'll be honest with you; I was a bit nervous about this one (more so than any other), and I think a large part of the reason why is because I've been building up to this moment from the moment I started writing this story. That created a bit of pressure to do it justice, and as a result of that, it's taken a little longer to get it right. Well, at least I hope it's right now? I suppose that's the curse of being the type of writer I am– I never know if what I've written is any good! Oh well, I suppose you'll have to be the judge of that instead, so without further ado, please read on…

~ Alone ~

Part Twelve

Wind rattled through the trees, the storm growing in strength second by second as heavy rain pelted the entire region. It was getting worse as each second passed, that much was obvious, but the five weary travellers trudging along the sodden ground – each soaked to the skin and exhausted from the trek - didn't really care.

Their focus was fixed elsewhere; not on the weather, but instead on the lone, broken jumper being battered by it.

They'd finally arrived.

Taking a moment to wipe the rainwater out of his eyes, Rodney took a cautious step into the clearing in front of him, heart pounding as he kept his eyes fixed on the dead jumper sat forlornly in the centre of it. With his teammates already a couple of steps ahead of him, Rodney took another step forward, then another, his ears pricked for any sign of an attack.

So far everything looked quiet and deserted, but when they'd first arrived at the clearing, Ronon had told them all that something seemed off, and Rodney had long ago learned to trust the Satedan's instincts in these matters.

Even so, he took another step, following his teammates. They were still heading straight for the jumper, albeit slowly and cautiously, but his own instincts were tingling now.

Because if Sheppard was alive and well and in this area – as the signal from his subcutaneous transmitter had seemed to suggest before it had stopped working - why hadn't he made an appearance yet? The man should have been there to greet them – with his usual standard cocky smirk plastered right across his face - but he wasn't. Something definitely wasn't right…

Rodney swallowed and wiped the rain out of his eyes, trying to quell the growing sense of vague unease mixed with increasingly uncontrollable panic. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't strong, he wasn't brave, he wasn't heroic; simply put, he just wasn't cut-out for this sort of thing. Or so he'd always thought…

Until Sheppard.

All those years ago now, John Sheppard had chosen him for his team, even before they'd really grasped what it was that they would be facing. He'd trusted Rodney to do his job, no matter how tough things got, and dammit, Rodney had.

Hell, Rodney had surprised himself, let alone all the people who had always said he wouldn't amount to anything. And it was all because of John Sheppard. He'd seen something in Rodney that Rodney still couldn't see even now.

He thought Rodney was worth it.

Well, Rodney told himself, squaring his shoulders slightly and pushing his body through the wind and the rain. John Sheppard was worth it too.

"McKay!"

Rodney dropped to the floor on instinct alone, just in time to see a huge black blur leap over him. He felt a claw scape at his back, but the beast mostly missed him, flying over Rodney and landing somewhere behind him.

"McKay!" Ronon yelled. "Run!"

Rodney didn't need telling twice. He clumsily pulled himself from the floor and stumbled forwards, aiming for the jumper and hoping desperately that the black beast, whatever the hell it was, was not going to come back for another bite…

No, no, no, no, no…

"McKay!"

McKay dropped to the floor again, but the animal must have learnt from his earlier error because this time it landed on him, knocking the breath from Rodney's chest. Rodney instinctively tried to twist out from under the beast, but all he managed to do was turn onto his back.

Rodney gasped, desperately trying to catch his breath. Now he could see the beast clearly. It was a black dog, as big as a small bear, teeth bared as it stared down at Rodney, almost as if he was sizing its prey up. Rodney didn't dare move, but he could feel his heart hammering loudly in his chest. The dog growled down at him – a low, sinister sound - and the scientist knew that the beast was only seconds away from striking.

Rodney closed his eyes. Oh, God, he was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die…

Sorry Sheppard, Rodney thought. I tried…

"Jett!" barked a hoarse but commanding voice from the direction of the dead jumper. "Stop!"

The beast stilled, but Rodney still didn't dare open his eyes. He frowned, still not quite able to reconcile with the fact that he wasn't dead yet.

"Jett…" the voice said again, low but sure.

Rodney frowned again, but this time for a completely different reason. He thought he recognised that voice, and Rodney felt hope begin to blossom in his chest. It couldn't be…

"Jett...come here," the voice ordered. "Leave him alone."

The man whistled once, loud and sharp, and then miraculously, the weight lifted from Rodney's chest, and he could hear the animal moving away. It was listening to the voice. Why was it listening to the voice…?

"Rodney," came another voice, which he immediately identified as Teyla. He felt her hand touch his neck, his head, his chest, trying to find out if he was still alive. If he was still breathing…

"I'm okay," he choked out, opening his eyes and blinking hard. "I mean…obviously I'm not okay, but I'm alive, which is a miracle considering that I was just attacked by a huge, rabid beast. Although why it chose me and not any of you, I don't know – "

"Rodney," Teyla interrupted gently but firmly. "The beast has retreated back to the jumper. You are safe."

That, Rodney decided, was a relative term. Yes, the beast had stopped attacking him, but it was still there somewhere. And so was…

"Sheppard," Rodney said, shooting upright. His head swam but he pushed away any nausea that had risen up with the sudden movement. "It was him. I heard him."

"We know," Ronon said gruffly. "Come on."

The Satedan held out a strong hand, and Rodney grabbed it, using it to pull himself back to his feet.

He could still feel adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins, but he pushed those emotions away as well. The Colonel…they had been looking for him for so long. And now, they'd found him.

They'd found him.

Rodney didn't move however, following the lead of Ronon who was clearly still wary of the large, black dog-like beast that had attacked them – a position Rodney very much supported.

Rodney could see the experienced heads of Teyla, Ronon and Lorne weighing up their options - trying to work out a plan of action - but before anyone could say anything, there was a noise, and then as if in tandem, their attention was drawn back to the open back hatch, just in time to see a person emerge from the shadows.

And then suddenly, John Sheppard was there, standing in front of the hatch door, hair wild, eyes bloodshot, clothes dirty and torn. Even from a distance, with the rain and the wind howling between them, Rodney could see that his face was pale and battered and bruised, and that there was no sign of his usual cocky grin this time. In its place was a pained grimace, which would have been concerning thing to see on anybody, but was somehow even worse on the usually stoic soldier.

But, Rodney told himself forcefully, it was definitely Sheppard, and more importantly, he was very much alive.

"Hey…," Sheppard said roughly, eyes scanning over them all. The dog-like beast crept out of the shadows of the jumper and stood at his side, watching them closely, its agitation clearly growing as it tried to work out if they were a threat. John placed a hand on the dog's back to calm it, which oddly enough seemed to work.

Sheppard stood there somewhat awkwardly, just staring at them, almost as if he couldn't quite believe they were there. Rodney tried to imagine what it had been like for the man for the last few weeks, all alone, beaten by the people he'd thought of as family, abandoned to what should have been certain death.

How had he survived? What had he been through to be standing there at all?

Rodney shook his head, but kept his eyes fixed on his best friend; mainly because he was afraid that if he blinked, Sheppard would be lost again.

No one else - including Sheppard - seemed to know what to say either, but neither did anyone move. In fact, Rodney didn't dare to even breathe, just in case this wasn't real. It couldn't be…

"John?" Teyla began, her voice shaky with what Rodney could only assume was the same intense relief he himself was feeling. It was him. They'd actually found him…

"Seriously guys," John told them hoarsely, wobbling as he tried to grab onto the side of the hatch. He hand missed and he stumbled forward a bit. "How's a guy…supposed to sleep…with all this noise?"

Then, without even so much as another word, John promptly collapsed to the ground, and all hell broke loose.

Carson was the first to move, followed almost immediately by Lorne and Ronon. Teyla brought up the rear, and it was only then that Rodney – still a little in shock from the events of the last few minutes – finally followed them.

He stumbled after the team, but they'd barely managed to go ten feet before their progress was halted once again by the big black beast that Sheppard had apparently adopted.

The dog growled and Rodney and the rest of the team skidded to a stop.

"Woah…" Rodney said, hands raised in front of him as he tried to look as unthreatening as possible. He wanted desperately to just run away, but Sheppard was just lying there, right on the grass in front of the jumper, and it was obvious he needed medical help fast. Damn. As if the situation wasn't bad enough already, now they had to contend with the threat of being eaten by a huge black dog…

Rodney swallowed hard, his muscles tensed as he tried to stay completely still. The dog was stood by Sheppard's fallen body, teeth bared as if it was willing to strike if any one of them took another step forward. They didn't, well aware of the animal's capabilities after witnessing the attack on Rodney. The dog, however, took advantage of their moment of hesitation to move a step closer to them.

Ronon and Lorne simultaneously raised their weapons in the dog's direction, but Teyla held up her hand to stall them. Then she took a step forward herself, moving slowly closer to the beast. Rodney wanted to tell her to stop, to tell her to run away as fast as she could, but his throat was dry and he couldn't seem to find his voice.

"Teyla…" warned Ronon quietly. Teyla ignored him, her focus solely on the dog.

"We are not going to hurt you," she told the animal softly, hands raised in front of her, the universal sign of 'we come in peace'. The dog – 'Jett', as Sheppard had called him – cocked his head to one side, which seemed an oddly human action for such a rabid animal. Teyla didn't let it distract her.

"We are his friends, just like you," she continued as she gestured towards the prone form of their friend, moving closer still. The dog watched closely, but his teeth were no long bared, and he'd stopped growling for the moment. It seemed like he was listening to her...

"We can help him. Please, just let us help him," Teyla pleaded. There were tears in her eyes, but Rodney couldn't look away. Come on, come on...

The dog gave her a long look then, almost as if it was trying to look into her soul. Teyla stared right on back, never breaking eye-contact with the beast. Rodney saw Ronon tighten his grip on his weapon, and wondered if he was going to shoot anyway.

Then, miraculously, dog began to step back.

"Well done, lass," Carson breathed out as they watched the dog retreat to stand a few steps into the jumper, close enough to attack if necessary, but far enough away to demonstrate that they could proceed with its permission. Rodney shook his head as he tried to make sense of it all, but quickly realised that they had more pressing concerns.

Sheppard.

Rodney turned his attention back to John, watching as Carson moved forwards and dropped to his knees beside their fallen friend. Was he okay? Was he...dead?

Rodney held his breath as Carson completed an initial check. Teyla had moved to stand next to the dog and had one hand on its back, stroking it slowly to keep it calm. Rodney was glad, but still deemed it prudent to stand behind Ronon and Lorne, who were watching on as well.

"He's still alive!" Carson said suddenly.

"What?" Rodney said dumbly, drawing his attention back to John's unmoving body. Alive. John was alive…?

"He's still alive, Rodney," Carson said breathlessly. "Although if we don't do something soon, he won't be. First we need to get him inside where it's dry. Teyla, love…?"

"Of course," she said, immediately understanding. She looked down at the dog by her side. "Jett, we will need to bring John inside. Would that be acceptable?"

To Rodney's astonishment, the dog seemed to deliberate that for a second before nodding his consent. Nodding! Rodney shook his head. He must have been infected by the beast's claws because he was definitely hallucinating…

"McKay," Lorne said, pulling Rodney's attention back to Sheppard. "Grab one of his legs."

Rodney did as he was told, and together they managed to somewhat awkwardly move the unconscious Colonel into the back of the jumper. Teyla kept a hand on the back of the black animal to keep it calm, but Rodney couldn't help but watch it nervously, even as he kept half an eye on Sheppard.

"Right," Carson said, dropping back to his knees beside the Colonel once again. "Pass me my bag."

That spurred them all into action again. Carson had dropped the bag on the ground when he'd reached John, so Lorne went back out into the rain to pick it back up.

"What do you need?" Lorne asked as he began to look through the bag.

"Just pass me the bag, son," Carson replied, holding his hand out but not taking his eyes of his patient. Rodney didn't blame him. They'd been through a hell of a lot together over the years, but he couldn't quite remember John looking quite this bad in the past. Even when he'd turned into a bug, at least he'd looked…alive.

Now that he was able to get a closer look at the Colonel, Rodney realised that John was paler than a ghost, with a thin sheen of sweat across his face that made no sense with the chill that was in the air. Oh no…

Rodney watched as Carson started to pull various medical supplies from his bag, muttering to himself as he did so. Rodney, who had never really been able to grasp the full extent of Carson's job, had no idea what he was doing, and so couldn't help in the slightest. God, he felt so useless.

Useless, useless, useless…

"What's wrong with him?" Ronon asked gruffly, managing to shake Rodney out of his desperate thoughts.

"Fever, infection," Carson listed off as he worked. "That seems to be the most pressing issue, anyway. Not sure what the cause is yet, but I'm guessing with the way it seems he's been living the past few weeks, it could be any number of things. Maybe even a combination."

"The dog?" Rodney asked with a dry mouth.

"What about it?" Lorne asked, arms crossed and eyes worried as he watched Carson examine his CO.

"Could it have infected him with something?" Rodney replied quickly, gesturing over to the black beast. "Because I was caught by the thing too, you know…?"

Almost as soon as the thought hit his mind, his back began to itch and ache and sting with what felt like it could be an infection - although if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't really sure the beast had even broken the skin. Still, no sense in telling Carson that...

"I don't know, Rodney," Carson said. "I can't see any obvious wounds from the animal, but I haven't done a full examination yet. We'll need to get the Colonel out of these wet clothes anyway, so I'll check then. For your part, just try to stay calm and keep an eye open for any symptoms that your 'wounds' might be infected…

Rodney knew that Carson was making fun of him, but oddly, he didn't mind so much. Well actually he did mind, but he cared more about Sheppard's condition at the moment- and the fact that Carson felt relaxed enough to mess with Rodney meant that he wasn't too worried about Sheppard, and that meant that Sheppard was going to be alright…

It had to mean that Sheppard was going to be alright.

For the next few minutes, they watched Carson work, providing assistance whenever he asked for it, but otherwise supporting him silently.

Eventually, Rodney closed his eyes, unable to watch anymore. Anyway, he didn't need to see his friends' faces to know his thoughts were matched by everyone there.

Please let Sheppard be alright…

John woke slowly, and with great difficulty. His mind felt like mud, his thoughts erratic and somewhat nonsensical. He couldn't seem to hold on to any of them as his mind flew through the darkness, trying to gain some semblance of control. He knew he was waking up – he didn't know how he knew, but he did know that much – but he had no idea where he was or what had happened.

Except his nightmares still lurked in the background, still haunting him and taunting him in equal measure. It was better in the darkness ironically. The vast blackness swallowed the terror up; it was only when he was on the cusp of consciousness - like now - that the dark, taunting figures seemed to return. John moaned, his feverish body twisting and turning. The death that seemed to follow his every move - it was coming for him, it was coming for him…

"No…" he mumbled, his body jerking slightly as consciousness began to pull at his mind with a little more force despite his vehement internal protests. The darkness was safe. His nightmares couldn't reach him there.

The last time he'd closed his eyes, he been prepared to die. He'd been expecting it in fact, so why was he now waking up. Why wasn't he dead…?

Maybe he was dead? Maybe this is what happened after someone passed on. John frowned. He hoped not. It was cold, his body ached, and he had a horrible feeling he was mostly naked…

"Sheppard, will you just open your eyes already?" came an abrasive voice he would have recognised had his mind been anywhere near what it should've been. "We know you're awake."

A flash of recognition burst through the fever. Oh, yeah, he definitely knew that voice. Who…?

"Rodney!" chastised another voice, this one with a Scottish accent. "The man almost died…"

Ah, so he wasn't dead then. Or at least, the people he was with didn't think he was dead. That was good. Except he still felt cold. And mostly naked….

"He's shivering," came a deep gruff voice.

"Well done, genius," the abrasive voice replied sarcastically.

"Rodney," warned a female voice, sweet and gentle.

This time the Scotsman continued. "He's got a fever, Ronon. The shivering's to be expected. In fact, it's actually a good thing. It means his body's starting to fight the infection. We'll just need to help it along a wee bit, that's all."

Ah, John thought, a fever. That explained a few things. Like the general crappy way he was feeling at the moment, not to mention how he felt hot now, not cold, like his body was being held inside a furnace. God it was agony…

John moaned and twisted, trying in vain to bring himself some relief from the onslaught of pain. It felt as if he was on fire...

"Come on, Carson," the deep voice replied. "It's Sheppard. He isn't going to let a little fever keep him down."

"Right," abrasive man retorted. "I'd forgotten that the man is actually invincible…"

John could almost see the sarcastic eye-roll that he knew would've accompanied those words, and decided that it was time he let them know that he really was okay. Except nothing was really co-operating, so that small task was easier said than done…

"M'fine," John mumbled finally, a weak, pathetic sound.

"See," the gruff man said. "Sheppard says he fine."

"Well of course Sheppard agrees – wait, Sheppard!"

"Mmm," Sheppard replied, unable to form a coherent response. God, his mind was still foggy to the point where he could barely remember his own name, let alone where he was. He tried to open his eyes, but the heavy eyelids weren't quite co-operating either at the moment. Not much of his body was actually, except his thoughts, which were becoming clearer by the second. Thankfully the creeping nightmares had reduced to a dull thrumming in the background, giving him at least some of the energy back that he would need to wake up completely.

"Welcome back, Colonel," the Scotsman said. "Do you think you could open your eyes for us?"

Sheppard didn't reply, but he redoubled his efforts to open his eyes. He almost had it. Just a few more seconds.

Finally, he managed to open his eyes a crack.

"That's it, lad," praised the Scottish man.

Light burst in, but John managed to fight against it. He wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to know where he was and who he was with, and why it felt like his body was burning.

"D-Doc?" John asked, swallowing to try and get his throat to feel less dry.

He blinked hard, groaning as his body flushed with heat and pain. His surrounding started to come into focus, and he could see Beckett above him. John swallowed again, trying to bite back a scream of pain as the heat built deep in his chest. God, what the hell was happening to him…?

"You're going to be okay, Colonel," Beckett soothed. "You're fighting a wee bit of a fever, but we're starting to get it under control."

"We?" John said hoarsely. John tried to blink again, but his eyelids were so heavy that he was worried that he wouldn't be able to open them again. Everything felt completely out of whack…

"Your team," Carson replied, the look on his face suggesting that John was being particularly stupid.

"Oh," John said. He looked around again, and sure enough, there was his team; Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, even Lorne. There was a dog there as well, but that didn't really make much sense. Nothing made much sense actually, and a part of him wasn't even sure any of this was real…

"You guys…really here?" John said, his eyes falling shut again. He forced them open but it was quickly becoming a battle he knew he couldn't win. Everything – body and mind – just hurt too much…

"Of course we're really here!" Rodney told him, clearly offended.

But Rodney didn't know what it had been like – couldn't know, because he hadn't been there. He didn't know how John had begged them to come back, only to be left alone for weeks on end. He didn't know how often John had considered just giving up altogether – something he had no doubt he would've done had he not met Jett. He didn't know that John had already been seeing various versions of them for the past couple of days as his fever finally took hold, their familiar faces taunting him with every failure he'd ever endured, every mistake he'd ever made.

They hadn't been real then, and he wasn't sure they were real now. It was a trick of a fever-induced mind. It had to be, because his real friends...they'd left him and they hadn't come back.

Please don't leave me...

"Sleep, Colonel," Beckett said quietly, perhaps recognising that John was struggling with more than just the fever. "You just concern yourself with getting some rest. We'll be right here when you wake up, lad."

John wasn't sure about that either, but he closed his eyes anyway. The darkness was calling him, and this time he allowed it to swallow him up.

The nightmares couldn't get him there.

A/N – So, they've finally found each other (sort of!). As I said at the beginning, I spent a long time trying to get this reunion right, but I've ended up saving a lot of it for the next chapter anyway. This one just grew a little too long, and I didn't want their reunion to be straightforward or quick, because that would have been a bit of a waste considering how long the story has been building up to it. Anyway, I hope you're still enjoying the story and can forgive me for the long wait. If you've got a spare minute, I'd love to hear from you! I have a few days off work now (It's my birthday tomorrow and I hate working on my birthday therefore I've chosen not to) so I'm hoping I'll have time to do a lot more writing. We'll see. For now, thank you so much for reading! Until next time…