Author's Note: Oh my, last chapter... this is a sad and momentous occasion... did I spell momentous right? It doesn't look right... oh well, it's not like I'm a writer or anything, lol...

Anyways, thanks for sticking in there guys, sorry I'm a sucky replier, but I love you all anyways for all the comments you've made! This chapter is dedicated to EVERYONE!

Chapter 13

The machines beeped like crazy, and everyone in the room started talking, making more noise than the infirmary had seen before. Peters called for a defibrillator, tried to shove Ronon, of all people, aside, trying to get to the flat-lining Sheppard.

"No, stop!" McKay shouted, releasing one arm from Sheppard's to point at Peters. "Just... wait!"

"Rodney, his heart has stopped," Keller reminded him, somehow sounding gentle and forceful at the same time.

He looked at her, staring her right in the eye. "Remember the last time..." he told her. "Just... please. This is either going to work or it's not. And CPR isn't going to make a difference. But apparently we, me, Ronon, Teyla, we might."

She held his stare for a few more seconds, before nodding, backing away, and sending Peters a look that told him to do the same. And the infirmary fell into silence again, except for the rapid beating of the machine that told them that Sheppard was dead.

They fell.

Sheppard wasn't really sure how fast, or how far, or why they were falling at all. But the double was clawing at him, struggling to hold on, and it was making him fall faster and faster. And he couldn't fall so far that he couldn't find his own way home. Or he'd rather not.

He spun in the air, which was harder than it sounded. He bunched his stomach muscles, ignored his pounding heart, and kicked out with all the strength he had left. Which wasn't much.

The double slipped away slightly, his nails leaving marks on Sheppard's arms from where it was holding on so tight. "If I'm going down, you're coming too!" it screamed at him over the whistling air and that omnipresent hum.

"Didn't know my own mind..." he grunted, calling on his strength one last time. "Could be... so... vindictive!"

And as he shouted it, he kicked out again, his bare feet finding the double's head. The impact jarred his ankle, but he saw its eyes roll, saw its neck snap nearly to breaking. And finally, finally, it let go, sailing away through the white abyss. It gave a scream as the white swallowed it up.

Which wasn't much of a relief when he was left alone in the white, falling. Not so fast now, but he was still falling.

He licked his lips, and closed his eyes. He hoped this worked. But it had been able to transport him before. He hoped it could now.

He fell.

He took a deep breath, and imagined darkness. Darkness beyond that of his own mind, behind closed eyes. He imagined darkness, like water, around him. He imagined the dark lake that he wasn't afraid of, where Atlantis waited within him, Atlantis and her glorious hum.

John, can you hear us? John, are you there? Keep fighting John!

He didn't open his eyes, afraid that would send the voice away, but continued to imagine the dark lake. And the world around him shifted.

He wasn't falling anymore. John... please, come on... Are you still fighting? He was standing on his feet, the pressure of water all around him, though he could still breathe. Hey, come on buddy, enough's enou... The voices surrounded him as well, and he opened his eyes to darkness.

The water didn't disappear. Colonel... Come on, Colonel... I know you're in there, we're all getting...

He didn't picture something this time. Didn't think of a name, or a place, or any of those things he had pictured before. No this time, he focused on the hum. Let it build within him, let it bring that heart wrenching feeling of home, of loss and gain, of victory and defeat, of everything that Atlantis was, good and bad. Mistakes and triumphs, of science and battle, of enemies, and mostly of friends.

John... Colonel... If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.

He couldn't do that, not yet. But he could hear them, and he could feel them, drifting, weaving in and out of Atlantis. He didn't feel anything back, but that hum in him grew, and eventually the voices grew.

It's only been a week, Mr Woolsey... John, are you waking up yet?

He grabbed onto that hum and held on tight, determined, knowing it was going to happen, but trying to make it happen quicker.

Come on, Colonel. We're all here, waiting for you. You can do it.

He knew he could, knew those voices, could start to remember them, could almost find them, point them out. He could feel them inside of him, how they made him feel, and he grabbed onto that. The hum almost screamed in his veins.

"Colonel, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand."

There was something in his left hand. Did she mean that? He hoped so. He squeezed with it anyway, and there was some relieved laughter.

"Can you open your eyes, John?"

He didn't know. Was he there yet? Should he try? Or would he be disappointed? Would it be a fake reality? Would he know?

Something beeped, not racing, but fast enough that the hand in his squeezed gently. "It's okay, John. We're here."

Another hand squeezed his wrist. He knew this hand, knew its warmth. "Be calm, John. Though a promise of this may sound hollow, I assure you, this is real."

He knew that voice. Knew it wouldn't lie to him. Not about something like this. He shifted his head slightly in the darkness.

"Teyla?"

More relieved laughter, and almost immediately, that hum began dying away. He didn't panic though, didn't worry. He knew what it meant. He knew he was back, knew it had led him back.

He opened his eyes and stared up into three worried blurs. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and even that small act exhausted him. He let his eyes close again, only this time he knew it didn't matter. Because he was home, he was in Atlantis, and he could finally sleep again.

Keller leaned back slowly, taking a deep breath. Teyla looked up at her, and took her own relieved sigh. This was good. Judging by the huge grin on Jennifer's face, this was good.

"He should be fine," she told them both, smiling at them. She nodded. "I think we're finally out of the woods. He's going to live."

"And his mind?" Teyla asked. "Will that thing have caused much damage?"

"I hope not," Keller admitted. "But we won't know for sure until he wakes up properly. But scans are promising. Though he might have these scars for some time," she told them, reaching out to touch the scar on his left temple. Just one of a dozen the leads had left when they had slipped away from his head a week ago. "But he will probably be traumatised." She shrugged. "Or maybe not, knowing the colonel. But if I'd been trapped inside my own head for that long, I know I would be."

Teyla nodded in agreement. "We will be here for him," she let Jennifer know, sitting down again. "We will be here."

Ronon smiled with her as Jennifer walked away, no doubt to finally get some proper rest. Teyla wondered if she should do the same, and then decided against it. Besides, she had spent so much time in this infirmary in the past two weeks that it was like a second home.

"It worked," Ronon suddenly spoke up. "I can't believe it worked. Just holding onto him."

Teyla shook her head. "I believe it was more than that." She paused. "But I also believe we will never know what more it was."

"There's no way he's going to talk about this," Ronon agreed. Then he paused as well. "Do you think we can both let go now?"

They both looked down at his hand, still clasped around Sheppard's arm. Teyla had to admit, the thought frightened her for a minute. But then she smiled, hopeful.

Ronon took it to mean exactly what it meant. He lifted his hand off Sheppard and sat back.

And their world didn't collapse around them. Sheppard really was back.

Sheppard had to blink a few times before he realised he was awake.

It didn't help that it was night on Atlantis, and the infirmary was quiet. But he did manage a small smile to himself. He was home. He was back. And it was real.

He shifted his head to look around. Two heads were asleep on his bed, and only one other bed was occupied, by a sleeping man, his leg elevated. No one else was in the room.

"Sergeant Cantwell," he whispered to himself, staring at the man. He remembered. Whatever his double had done, it had been undone. That made his smile turn into a grin, and he licked his lips, taking a deep breath. Which promptly turned into a cough as he aggravated his dry throat.

The heads on his bed sprang up, still half asleep, blinking grit out of their eyes as they turned to look at him. Ronon and Teyla. Ronon Dex, Teyla Emmagen. He remembered them.

"Hey guys," he greeted hoarsely. "Couldn't get me a drink could you?"

"Here," Teyla jumped, grabbing a cup from the bedside table. "Only ice chips, but that is all you are allowed."

"I'll grab the doc," Ronon said, his smile wide. "It's good to see you open your eyes, John."

He grinned back, only able to guess how they were feeling right now. He turned to look at Ronon.

"So, did you miss me?" he asked, before frowning. "And reckon I can sit up?"

"Absolutely not!" Keller called out from her office. She looked like she had been sleeping as well. "Not until I check you over."

Teyla fed him an ice chip before he could argue, so he settled with mock glaring. None of them seemed to care, just grinning at him instead. So he grinned back.

"How long was I out?" he asked, looking around as Jennifer pulled out her instruments and started.

"That depends on what you mean," Teyla said slowly, sharing a worried look with Ronon. Sheppard understood instantly, grimacing, remembering. He closed his eyes. In the happiness of finally opening his eyes he had forgotten what had led to this stay in the infirmary in the first place.

"I need to know," he told them quietly, looking down at his hands. "You can't hide it from me."

"It took us two weeks to find you after McKay made it back," Ronon got out in a rush, taking the pointed look from Teyla with squared shoulders. But John hadn't been lying. He needed to know. He needed to know what he had missed. He needed to know, so he could replace fiction with reality.

But what Ronon had said... "Two weeks?" he demanded. "Is that all?" He shook his head. "In... It felt like longer."

They avoided asking questions about that. "Um, three days later is when McKay... did what he did. And it's been nine days since that."

"Nine...!" He couldn't believe that. "It felt... I mean, it passed by so quickly." Nine days. He tried to rub his eyes, tried to rub away the disbelief. But found he couldn't when an IV pulled on one and he found the other in a cast. He stared at the cast. "Did I really break my hand?"

"Somehow," Keller answered, stepping back, finished with her quick examination. "The closer you got to coming back, the more real your injuries got. Rodney told us about you... fighting yourself."

He tried not to flinch. "Yeah. Recurring theme with me." He shook his head. "Where is McKay?"

"He won't come here anymore," Ronon told him, again jumping in before Teyla or Jennifer could tell him not to say anything. "Hasn't since the leads dropped off. He feels guilty."

"I figured that out when he was inside my... my head..." John paused, took a deep breath and winced at the pull on his ribs. "It wasn't his fault."

"You will have to tell him that," Teyla informed him, leaning back in her chair. "Everyone else has tried."

"Yeah, guess I will," Sheppard nodded. His eyes were feeling heavy again. "Think I'm gonna nod off again first though, guys..."

He got a glimpse of Teyla's smile before his eyes slid closed all the way.

"Night, John."

A week later, and he thought that if Keller didn't release him soon, he would have to make a break for it.

He was feeling a lot better. Physically at least. No more pull on his ribs, and according to the doctors, his fist was nearly healed. It was easy when all his energy went into getting better day after day. After day.

He sighed, and tossed the Sudoku book to the side. He was bored with that already. If only Keller would let him have his laptop, he could catch up on the news. But no, instead, he was forced to ask Ronon and Teyla question after question. After question.

Luckily they didn't ask him many in return.

He leaned back in the bed and sighed again. If he had to admit it, it wasn't the boredom or lack of information that was bothering him. It was McKay. A week, and still no visit. The scientist was harbouring some serious guilt issues.

"How are you feeling, John?" Keller asked as she walked over, smiling. "Thought I'd better ask during the lull."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, knowing she was referring to the line of visitors that seemed to find a need every hour to come and visit. And not just Ronon and Teyla, but Woolsey, Lorne, hell even Caldwell had popped his head in when the Daedalus had arrived.

"Great," he answered. "When can I get out of here?"

"Not yet," she told him, in that tone that suggested she was getting sick of saying those words. "A few more days yet. Just be patient, Colonel. You were... sick, for a very long time."

"Sick. Right." He sat up, not even struggling. "Can I have some shore leave then? Just an hour?" Seeing her about to argue, he conceded, "In a wheelchair? With Ronon and Teyla?"

She paused, and in that second, as if the fates had wanted it, Teyla and Ronon walked into the infirmary. Keller threw her hands up in the air. "Fine. One hour. Any sign of tiredness, and you're straight back here. Anything goes wrong," she added, pointing a finger at him. "You're in here for another week."

"I'll be careful," he promised, grinning at Teyla and Ronon. Jennifer just sighed.

"I'll get you a wheelchair."

She walked off, and John turned to his team, determination on his face. "Where is he?"

McKay heaved a sigh of relief as he made it to his lab doors without being molested about Sheppard's wellbeing. People hadn't seemed to realise that he didn't know. They just assumed.

Well, they shouldn't. After what he had done...

He opened the doors and walked in, locking them behind him.

"Why so secretive?"

The voice made him jump and spin, shoving himself flat against the closed doors. And there was the person he had been avoiding for nearly three weeks.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" he demanded, wondering if he could make it out before Sheppard caught him. But one cock of the man's eyebrows rooted him to the spot.

"Well, nice to see you too," he muttered, wheeling the chair forwarded. "I thought we needed a little chat."

"I really don't think we do," McKay decided, finally getting up the strength to turn. "It's really simple, actually. I nearly got you killed, after you'd saved my life for the umpteenth time. Chat over."

He opened the doors and ran into something solid and Ronon-shaped. "I don't think so, McKay," the Satedan ordered, pushing him back in and closing the doors.

McKay was left gaping at the barrier, stunned but unsurprised that his team was ganging up on him, before turning around and sighing at a clearly amused Sheppard. He felt the nerves rise.

"So, uh... How are you?"

"Fine," Sheppard answered, shrugging. "Completely healed."

McKay snorted and walked forward. "Liar."

"You think so, do you?" John demanded losing his amusement. "How are you doing? I know what you did. I know it was stupid."

"Oh, like you can talk about stupid!" Rodney snapped, storming forward. "You're an idiot! Why the hell did you do it! I mean, you stormed in there, all on your lonesome, took on a whole army."

"And made it all the way to the gate dragging you with me," Sheppard interrupted him. "I know. I remember. That bit anyway."

"It's not an accomplishment!" McKay cried, throwing his hands up. "You... I mean, you stupid, idiotic, suicidal person! You could have died! Hell, you did, you would have if that thing hadn't been programmed not to let you die!"

"I think it was doing a pretty good job doing that," Sheppard reminded him, frowning. "And we're getting off subject."

"Yes we are. You want to talk. It was my fault that you were there, and that you nearly died. My fault that you got stuck in your own damn head! If I had..."

"If you had what?" the man demanded, glaring. "If I'm stupid, then you're arrogant, McKay! I told you, I remember everything before getting you through the gate. I remember a dozen men surrounded you. Not even Ronon can fight off a dozen men, when he's unarmed, and they have guns pointed at him."

He rolled forward. "That mission was doomed from the start. They knew we were there, and they knew we were from Atlantis. They wanted one of us, both of us if they could. It isn't your fault, Rodney!"

"But you got caught rescuing me!" the scientist reminded him.

"Yes. Yes I did," Sheppard agreed. "Like I have time and again. You, Ronon, Teyla, any other Atlantis team, anyone on this base. It happens. You've been caught rescuing me too, remember. Are you going to blame me? I mean, seriously blame me?"

"It doesn't change anything," McKay told him sullenly.

"No," Sheppard agreed, sounding exhausted suddenly. "It doesn't change anything that happened. Nothing will change that you spent nine hours in surgery because of those bastards. It doesn't change that I was stuck in my own head. It doesn't change a goddamn thing. But that doesn't matter. We do our jobs, and we get over it, McKay. I got you out, and you got me out. And that's all that matters."

He grabbed his head, leaned down on his elbow. Suddenly worried, McKay moved forward, grabbing Sheppard's shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired," he muttered. "I am going to blame you if Keller keeps me in that infirmary for another week."

McKay laughed before he could stop himself. And then he sighed. "I am sorry, John. You shouldn't have had to go through that."

"It doesn't matter," John told him, leaning back in his wheelchair. He looked pale. "Just like it doesn't matter that I'm sorry about what you went through. We can be sorry that it happened, doesn't mean we caused it. Just that it happened. Now, I think I'm going back to the infirmary to face the wrath of Jennifer. Feel like coming?"

"Yeah," Rodney decided, grabbing hold of the handles. "Guess so." He pushed Sheppard over to the doors, but didn't open them. He paused, took a deep breath. "Are you ever going to want to talk about what happened?" he asked slowly, almost whispering. In the chair, Sheppard went still.

"Are you ever going to want to talk about what happened to you?" he asked.

McKay knew the answer to that. He opened the doors and grinned sheepishly up at Teyla and Ronon. "Uh, guess I should apologise," he told them both. "I've been a bit of an ass."

Ronon just grinned at him. "Yeah, but we've gotten used to it," he told the man, stepping aside. "So, should we detour to the mess hall?"

Sheppard jumped in before anyone could say a word about the infirmary. "Oh, hell yes. Real food sounds great."

Teyla nodded, so Rodney directed the chair to the left instead of the right. "Mess hall it is."

As Rodney pushed him down the corridors, Sheppard tried not to heave a sigh of relief. He had his team back, all of them. And he was back, in reality, back from his own head.

And around him, Atlantis continued to hum.

So, what did you think? Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading all the way to here! I guess I'll see you all next time!

Bye!