Hi guys. Sorry this chapter has taken so long, it took me longer to write than I thought. Anyway, it's done now, so I hope you like it.

I guess you've all heard, Atlantis is not going to continue after this latest season, as decided by MGM and Sci-Fi last week. It is a real tragedy that something that is loved by a lot of people around the world has to end, but I guess that's the way it goes. I, personally, can't wait for the movie they say they're going to finish it with. And I'm also looking forward to see what Universe will be like.

Mail-bag:
To jasminesmommy, thanks. I'm trying to make her as close to John Sheppard as possible – they are twins after all.

To baileylak, thanks, as well. You're going to see more of Mitchell in this chapter and ones to follow, before we head to Atlantis.

To Atlantis Ori Sheppard, I'm glad you're into this story. Please keep reading.

And, now, on with the show!

--Chapter 3 – Grace--
The journey home was long and tiresome. Twelve jumps in and out of hyperspace, not to mention several detours around Goa'uld occupied systems. That and the fact that Carter was getting them to detour to a near-by nebula. Sierra's chat with the major on the topic told her that it was different from most, but Carter had no idea what made it so. Sierra had to admit that she, herself, had gotten caught up in the major's excitement.

Every child dreamed of the stars. Her mom had taken her to the Mount Magantic Observatory outside of Montreal when she was fourteen and she loved it. Somehow the idea that she, Sierra, was an insignificant speck in comparison to the rest of the universe appealed to her. She hadn't gone through the necessary training to become an astronaut, but now she realized that she had made it to the stars without trying. At the observatory, her mom had whispered to her that if she wanted to go to the stars, all she had to do was try with all her heart. It was the last trip that her mom had ever taken her on.

Sierra shook her head to clear it. She sat in the quiet Mess hall, nursing a cup of coffee. The Prometheus and her crew worked on Earth's time zone and after being on Tagrea for a month, Sierra and some of the other crew members were still adjusting. Sierra's watch said it was 1700 hours while her body told her it was way too early in the morning. Vince and Ash, two of her fellow pilots, were also in the Mess. Vince was staring vacantly into the bottom of his coffee mug, likely to drown in it, while Ash's hand was about to slip as it held his head up.

Sighing an almighty sigh, Sierra returned her gaze to the view outside the ship. The streaked, blue glow of hyperspace flew past the window. Jump seven; only five more after this and they'd be home. Ronson had guaranteed them all a week's leave when they got their feet back on the ground again and all Sierra could think about was calling her brother and telling him all about what she had done since taking this new job. She sighed again, knowing that the Non-disclosure regs that surrounded all related to the Stargate prevented that.

Sierra had hoped that something miraculous might happen that would bring John into all of this. She had hoped that sharing a secret like this might bring them closer again. She struggled to remember what it was that had driven them apart. She couldn't recall whether it was between Eric and Keenan's deaths and John's divorce, or after, when John had stopped calling.

Glancing down at her coffee mug she saw that the milk had soured and the cup was as chilled as the metal table top. She glanced up again and witnessed the moment that the ship dropped out of hyperspace, the blue soup giving way to stars. Sierra sighed again before standing and taking her mug to the return chute, and heading to the gym to work off some of her frustration. She barely made it to the next corridor before battle stations were called.

It was the second time this trip that battle stations had been called. When battle stations were called, Sierra and the other pilots' duty was to immediately prepare for launch of the 302s. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she ran down the corridor with Vince and Ash towards the hanger. As she pulled her flight-suit on and grabbed her helmet from its rack, she recalled the last time she had felt the rush like this. Afghanistan; F-16s flying in formation; comm-chatter filling her headset; looking across to her left and seeing John giving her encouraging hand signals –

Mitchell brushed past her, jolting her out of her memories. She stood at attention with the rest of the pilots, as Mitchell started with his pre-mission briefing. Suddenly the ship jolted, throwing them all off balance. She thanked Banks as he steadied her and then had a sharp intake of breath as the colonel reported over the P.A. that they had lost engines. This report was soon followed by the signal to scramble the F-302s. Sierra climbed into the cockpit of their 302 and began her pre-fight checklist.

"Hurry it up, Sheppard," Mitchell ordered as his head came up over the side of the cockpit. He clambered into his seat in front of her.

"Yes, Sir. Engines online; weapons online; ejection system: check; comm. system: check. Navigation, inertial dampeners, targeting –"

Sierra suddenly froze, hand poised over the console, as brilliant white light dazzled her. Throwing her arms over her eyes to protect them, the light just got brighter and brighter –

And then there was nothing.

--XXX--

Sierra groaned as she returned to consciousness. She couldn't actually remember falling out of consciousness but she assumed it had something to do with the bright light. Remembering this, Sierra opened her eyes to see what damage had been done. Whiteness dazzled her and she scrunched them shut again, flinging an arm over her face to try and stop the brightness stinging her eyes. She rolled onto her side and pressed her face to the floor. It was cool and kind of rough, but strangely comfortable, like marine carpet.

"Hey, Sheppard? Sierra, you OK?" Squinting against the glare of what Sierra now determined to be white walls, she shifted her arm and saw Mitchell come into her field of vision. Concern was etched on his face as he gently helped Sierra sit against the wall.

"Ugh, what happened?"

Mitchell gave her a queer look. "You don't remember any of it?"

"Any of what?"

Mitchell quirked an eyebrow at her. "The examination?" Sierra's brows knotted in confusion. "The disembodied voices of aliens? The surgical implements and scanners?" Sierra's perplexed look became deeper. "You really don't remember, do you? That's a good thing, I guess. You must've been in a lot of pain."

"Pain?" Sierra's heart skipped a beat. "You mean like... torture?"

"I'm not sure," Mitchell replied as he sat next to her, close enough to be a friend, but still far enough away to still be her C.O. "It was like you were being electrocuted. You were screaming a lot."

Sierra's throat became parched, and a sweat broke out on her skin. Images flashed in her mind; a darkened room, strapped to a table, some kind of horrifying device hanging from the ceiling. And then a voice in the darkness, speaking in a language she couldn't understand. But as quickly as the images appeared, they faded like mist. Grasping at them only made sure they vanished entirely.

A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her trance. Mitchell had moved closer to her, his knee brushing hers.

"You alright?"

She looked up into his pale blue eyes. "I remember… being terrified."

--XXX--

"There's gotta be a way out of here," Sierra said as she pushed at the walls of the box-like cell they had been placed in. For the last half hour, Sierra had been searching the room for a way out, despite Mitchell's assurances that they had already swept the room before they were taken to the exam room. There appeared to be no doors or windows; no way to get in or out. There appeared to no way for them to deliver food, either, even though there was a half-empty food tray waiting for her when she woke up. Sierra had picked at the food for about a minute before deciding that it definitely was not edible and then began searching the cell. So vigorous was her search that she had unzipped the top of her overalls, revealing a black singlet top, and tied the arms around her waist.

Apart from there being no door or windows, there were two blankets in one of the corners, a hollow, metal seat that they assumed had the function of a toilet, a small wash basin and a bench that wasn't even wide enough to sleep on. Mitchell had piled all their flight gear onto it after Sierra tripped over the pile it had previously been in one of the corners.

Sierra's frustration was building; she hated being locked up in this place. Also the fact that she couldn't remember what the aliens did to her and what had happened before they took them from the cell, made her feel uncomfortable. This, of course, translated into anger, which fuelled her frustration.

Sierra pushed at the wall again, hoping that a panel might give way. It didn't. She kicked the wall in frustration, but only succeeded in getting a sore foot; and this did little to soothe her temper. She kicked the wall again, and again, until Mitchell took her by the shoulders and pulled her away from the wall. He sat her down in the middle of the room then unlaced her combat boot and gently removed it.

"I don't think it's broken," Sierra said in a quiet voice, her surprise overriding her anger. She did flinch however when he bumped her big toe as he removed her sock. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, as if to say "I told you so". She shrugged and flashed him a quick smirk which he returned.

Mitchell gently flexed each of her toes, and then ran his fingers down the inner and outer sides of her foot, checking for bruising and sending shivers up her spine. She gasped and yanked her foot away as he brushed a sensitive spot.

"Tickles," she said softly and he smiled in apology. He let go of her foot and stood to lean against the wall she had been kicking. Awkward moment number twenty-three, Sierra thought as she pulled her sock and boot back on.

Another food tray arrived twenty minutes later, pulling them out of the silence that had fallen over them. They sat over the same tray and picked at the food they had been presented with. Mitchell made a remark about the food, comparing it to an animal by-product, that nearly made Sierra choke on the slop. Afterwards, the silence wasn't quite as awkward.

--XXX--

Sierra woke a few hours before Mitchell did and was going through her pockets when finally did wake, trying to find something to entertain herself with. She finally abandoned her search when another food tray arrived. This time their captors gave them something that seemed to resemble mashed potato and boiled peas. After discovering it tasted nothing like potato and peas, they spent the next hour aiming what they didn't eat at the toilet from the other side of the room.

Sierra sat leaning against the wall, staring vacantly at the corner of the room, absently rubbing her hands. Mitchell noticed that she had ceased fire.

"You OK?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied.

"Let's talk about something else," he suggested. They had been previously talking about their favourite foods. Sierra glanced over at him.

"Like what?"

"Like, you ever been married?" Sierra looked over at her C.O, confusion on her face.

Mitchell gestured to her hands. "You've been rubbing your ring finger for the last ten minutes. Just thought there might be method to that."

Sierra looked down at her hands to see that she had indeed been rubbing the place where she had worn her wedding ring a long time ago.

"Um, yeah, I was," Sierra replied.

"'Was' being the operative term?"

Sierra was silent for a moment. "I'm a widow," she said quietly.

Mitchell seemed to freeze. "Oh," he said, looking very much like he wanted to retract the question. "I'm sorry."

Sierra offered a weak smile. "It's OK… it was a long time ago."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them again, something Sierra was getting tired of. Instead she asked the only thing she could think of.

"So, um… you ever been married yourself?" Sierra inwardly cringed as Mitchell cast a surprised look her way. She was about to apologise for speaking out of turn when he cleared his throat to answer.

"Not married," he said softly. "But I was engaged once. Didn't work out. She hated the idea of being a military wife."

"Right," Sierra said awkwardly. "Sorry." Mitchell shrugged. Sierra stretched her legs out in front of her and gasped in pain.

"You OK?" Mitchell asked.

"Yeah; cramp." Sierra stood, rubbing the back of her calf. She began to walk around the room to stretch it out. Sierra ran a hand through the short locks of her hair as she stood in the middle of the cell.

"I hope we get out of here soon, 'cause I could really use a–"

Mitchell looked up at Sierra as she paused, mid-sentence. Sierra stopped talking as she felt a searing pain in her neck. She winced as she raised her hand to it, and felt what seemed like a needle jammed into her neck. She gritted her teeth and followed the needle back to what felt like a robotic arm that came down from the ceiling of the cell. Dread filled her and her heart began to race. Mitchell started towards her, reaching towards the device that had attached itself to her neck.

Suddenly, pain blinded her, like an electric current surging through her body. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she screamed as the pain consumed her.

And then, there was darkness.

--XXX--

For the second time since they had been captured, bright lights dazzled her, making her eyes hurt. Sierra's head hurt, pain throbbed in her neck, and she was suddenly aware that she was very hungry. Blinking away the blur of the lights, Sierra managed to make out the shape of Mitchell crouched over her.

She groaned as she accepted Mitchell's hand to sit up. Her head throbbed, making her vision sway as she leant forward over her knees and nearly threw up. She leant back again into Mitchell's hand on her back.

"You alright?" he asked, concern threading his voice.

Sierra swallowed down bile. "How long was I out?" she asked, her grasp on time currently a mess.

"Not long, about ten minutes."

She nodded and rubbed her temples, trying to get the throbbing to ebb. "What happened?"

Mitchell glanced up at the ceiling. "Some kinda mechanical arm got you in the neck and electrocuted you, I think. Must have been a charge similar to a zat 'cause otherwise you'd probably be dead."

Sierra looked sideways at him in alarm. He smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry," he said as he grasped her hand again and helped her to her feet.

As Sierra stood, her legs gave way slightly and stumbled. Mitchell threw his arms under hers and caught her before she fell. He put his hands on her elbows and helped her straighten up and Sierra came face to face with him, their noses barely an inch apart.

Sierra's heart started to pound with surprise at the sudden proximity to her commanding officer. She felt his hands on her elbows tighten a little, making her throat tighten as well. She didn't know if it was the weakness of her legs, or her sudden light-headedness, or the sudden urge to kiss him, but she could feel herself leaning closer to him. His pale, blue eyes held hers so completely she felt like she didn't know where she was anymore. And nor did she care.

Sierra had no idea that a man's lips could taste so good. In fact, it barely registered to her that she was kissing him until he began to return it. It was then that it occurred to her that they were committing a serious crime.

Sierra pulled back from him, immediately missing the warmth of his lips. She stumbled back from the circle of his arms, and leant against the nearest wall. Sadly, her nightmare of a headache had not gone away, if anything it had intensified. Mitchell had a surprised look on his face, his eyebrows arcing towards his hairline.

"God, I'm sorry, Sir," Sierra said, willing her heart to stop racing. "Won't happen again, Sir."

"Right," Mitchell said quietly, lowering his eyes and turning away from her. Sierra sighed and ran a hand over her eyes. She then moved over to the wash basin to quench her very dry throat.

Crap, Awkward Moment Number Twenty-Four.

--XXX--

Sierra stood in a brightly lit hall, the floor paved in stone and the walls painted neutral. She had no idea how she got there, or where 'there' was. Not knowing what else there was to do Sierra began to move down the hall. As she walked, a figure appeared at the far end ahead of her. The figure seemed very familiar to her and Sierra started moving toward them faster.

The figure soon came into focus and Sierra stopped in her tracks.

"Eric?" she breathed, the name sending her heart rate sky-rocketing. The man before her had started to walk towards her and she could see a smile spread across his face. As he came closer to her, Sierra took in everything that was Eric. His smile was exactly the way she remembered it, making his brown eyes shine like stars. His hair fell in ebony wisps around his long face. His skin looked golden, its sensational olive glow making hers look pale as snow. Sierra recognized the suit that he wore; it was white with silver pin-stripes – the suite he wore to their wedding. She looked down at herself and saw she was wearing her bridal gown, the first signs of a baby-bump made all the more obvious. She placed her hands on the bump, her heart beat slowing a little.

Looking up again, she saw Eric standing before her, his face filled with joy. He held his hand out to her and she took it, her own smile making his wider. He slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her to his side, kissing her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. Sierra laughed softly and repeated the phrase to him. He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as he reached for the handle of a door that seemed to have appeared in the wall. Sierra kept her eyes on Eric's face as he pulled the door open. His smile faded, however, when a bright light shone through the open door. Sierra followed his gaze to see that the hall around them had faded and they were standing in a darkened room, the light shining down on them like they were two specimens under a microscope.

Sierra's heart began to pound again and she clung to Eric's arm. He tightened his grip on her and turned to her, leaning in to kiss her, before being pulled away by a creature in the darkness.

"NO! Eric!" Sierra screamed after him. She tried to run to him, but she was strapped to a metal table.

A disembodied voice echoed through the room, filling her core with its bass tone. The language it spoke meant nothing to her but it filled her with dread. Then, Eric's cry of pain tore through her heart.

"ERIC!" Sierra screamed, waking from the nightmare. She was back in the white cell of their alien abductors, wearing her normal overalls, covered by the grey blanket they had provided them with. Sierra sat up in shock, almost wrestling with the blanket as she tried to throw it off her.

Mitchell, who had previously been asleep on the other side of the room, suddenly appeared at her side. He shook her shoulder to get her to look at him, and something broke in her. She took a deep shuddering breath a second before tears began to pour down her face.

Mitchell pulled her towards him and she buried her face in his shirt. Tears turned into sobs as he tightened his arm around her shoulders. Sierra twisted her hand into the front of his shirt to keep it from shaking.

Memories that the nightmare had awoken flashed before her eyes bring fresh tears to them. She felt Mitchell cradle the back of her head and she pressed her face into his chest as more painful memories arose.

"Oh, Eric," she breathed into Mitchell's shirt. It took a few minutes for the grief to ebb away, but the pain remained. They sat, leaning against the wall, her head resting on Mitchell's shoulder as she explained to him in a whisper who Eric had been.

"He was my husband," she said with a sniffle. "We met right after Afghanistan, when I took a job teaching at the Air Force Academy. He was a lawyer and the man of my dreams. We were perfect… so perfect that we got married after we had only been dating for six months." She sighed and rubbed the side of her nose. "We also got married 'cause I got pregnant.

"Keenan was the splitting image of Eric, all dark hair and olive skin. Sheppard eyes, though; bright green. We were happy, we had it good."

"What happened?" Mitchell asked softly.

"Drunk driver on the way back from the convenience store. I had been working late and got a phone call from the police. My perfect life had ended."

Mitchell hung his head and looked at her sideways. A tear rolled down Sierra's cheek and she felt him slide his arm around her shoulders again. Wiping the tear from her jaw, Sierra looked up at him. His eyes were filled with a pity and sympathy that Sierra had seen so often that she couldn't bare it. She looked away from him and stood up, moving to her corner of the room.

"Thanks, Sir," she said as she lay back down. "Thanks for listening."

"Sierra –" Mitchell started, but Sierra stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Don't, please; just don't. I've had more enough pity over the last five years to last me a lifetime. Mitchell looked at her with the same pity as before and slowly nodded. He went back and lay down on his side of the room and watched her as she curled on her side and closed her eyes. The image of Eric's smiling face threatened to bring her tears back, but she swallowed them down and rolled onto her other side.

Sleep took its time to come, and when it did, it was plagued with dreams of the perfect life Sierra knew she'd never have again.

--XXX--

Sierra woke up to the smell of something putrid. Rolling onto her back, she discovered that another food tray had been delivered. Mitchell had already eaten his half and left her the rest while she slept. She glanced over at him and saw that he was staring vacantly at the opposite wall.

Glancing back at the food tray, she realized how much she missed real food. Today's meal looked like mashed peas and honey, but smelt nothing like it.

"It doesn't taste as bad as it looks," Mitchell called to her without shifting his gaze. Sierra decided to take his word for it and dipped her finger into the paste. Surprisingly, he was right. It tasted like baby food, really bland baby food. Sierra managed to eat most of it before the urge to barf became overwhelming. Swallowing down the bile that was rising in her throat, she shot up from the floor to the hand basin. She gulped down three mouthfuls of foul-tasting water to wash out the taste of the meal. When she glanced back at the food tray, it was gone. It had been the same with all the food deliveries. As soon as they had abandoned the food, it was whisked away in a flash of light.

She looked back at Mitchell; he was still staring at the same patch of wall. "You OK?" she asked.

He blinked and looked up at her. "Yeah," he said. "I was just thinkin'."

"Of a way to get out of here? 'Cause I dunno about you, but I'm getting really tired of these white walls."

Mitchell grunted in accent but said nothing. He returned his gaze to the wall, a frown forming between his eyebrows. Sierra, slightly concerned, went and sat down next to him. She followed his gaze but found nothing interesting on the wall.

Sierra shook her head and attempted to flatten her dark locks of hair. It was a curse among all Sheppards – the hair always stuck up on top. She abandoned the attempt and rested her head against the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment, but then snapped them open again when a bright light pierced them. Her chest tightened with fear and anxiety and she reached for Mitchell's hand. He squeezed it reassuringly and they waited with baited breath.

Seconds later, the white walls of their cell were replaced with dark shadows and shapes. For a moment, Sierra's heart stopped, almost sure they were back in the examination room and her grip on Mitchell's hand tightened. Soon, their eyes adjusted to the gloom and Sierra managed to make out the shape of an F-302, directly ahead of them. Her heart swelled with relief and she turned to Mitchell who was just dawning on the fact.

"We're back!" she breathed. "We're on the Prometheus!"

Mitchell gave a disbelieving laugh before launching to his feet and punching the air with a shout. He pulled Sierra to her feet and hugged her in a bone crushing embrace. She returned it, dizzy with glee and surprise at what had just transpired. She giggled as he held her at arms length.

It was then that she became aware that there were other people in the hanger with them. All of their squadron had apparently also been delivered back to the place they had been taken from. Carrie and Yuko had both spotted her and rushed over to fold her in a group hug. Tears were in both girls' eyes as they recalled their experiences to Sierra and Mitchell. Apparently, they had both been in the same cell.

Mitchell did a quick head count and found there was no one from the squadron missing. Soon, the colonel was making an announcement over the P.A. system.

"Attention everyone, this is Colonel Ronson. I have been informed by Major Carter, who managed to evade capture, that we are in the clear, so everyone: stand-down. I know that we have all been through a lot the last few… days, and you will all get the rest you deserve. First, let's get this bird back home." A smattering of applause and cheering followed this announcement and Mitchell herded the squadron out of the 302 bay to see if they could be of use anywhere else.

Mitchell touched Sierra on the shoulder on their way out and advised her that she ought to head to the Infirmary to get herself checked out. Sierra knew an order when she heard one, and nodded, heading the opposite way to the rest of her squad.

When she arrived at the Infirmary, she saw Major Carter being helped onto a cot. Sierra went to stand by her superior officer to see how she was doing. The major barely registered her presence; her eyes were unfocused and her lids drooping considerably. There was a cut on her head and dark circles under her eyes. Sierra put a gentle hand on her shoulder and left her to rest.

--XXX--

The first thing she did after the Infirmary staff cleared her was go to the Mess Hall. She froze when she stepped in, though. It seemed like everyone who wasn't flying the ship was here. Colonel Ronson and Major Gant were deep in conversation as they filled their trays from the buffet the Mess staff had set out, Carrie and Yuko were huddled together with some of the nurses from the Infirmary, while the rest of the crew were gathered around the room in twos or threes. Sierra spotted Mitchell at a table by the window, eating his meal quietly while four engineers sat talking in hushed tones around him. Sierra took her place at the end of the queue to the bay-moiré behind a number of technicians that were going back for seconds.

Sierra took a tray as she felt someone join the line behind her. Glancing back she saw it was Mitchell.

"Hey, Sir," she said. "Seconds?"

Mitchell shook his head, glancing about and putting his hands on his hips. He leant in closer to her to speak to her in hushed tones.

"You remember that… thing that happened in the cell?" Sierra didn't have to ask to know that the thing he was talking about was the kiss. She nodded. "I think that we probably shouldn't talk about that… again."

Sierra swallowed as she was reminded of the kiss. She nodded. "I totally agree, Sir."

Mitchell nodded. "That's good then. 'Night."

"Night, Sir," Sierra replied as Mitchell moved away from her and towards the door. She quickly rubbed her hands on her overalls, as they had suddenly become damp. Licking her lips, she could almost remember the taste of his lips on hers before someone gently nudged her in the back to keep her moving in the line. Shaking her head, Sierra decided it was definitely better to forget that it even happened. In the days to follow, though, she would find it increasingly harder to do so.

--XXX--

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