Major John Sheppard stood on his favorite balcony on the edge of the city of Atlantis. A stiff breeze ruffled his hair, and not a single star shone from the overcast sky. The ocean churned restlessly, a dark, ghostly gray. A marginally brighter spot in the clouds marked where the moon should have been.

He was alone for the first time since his team had returned from M3X-666. In a sense, though, he had always been alone. People had been congratulating him all day for saving that godforsaken – goddess-forsaken? – planet. Only Elizabeth had seemed to understand what he'd actually done, but she'd downplayed it, trying to lift his spirits by focusing on the physical lives he'd saved. She didn't want to see him so upset.

That should have made him feel better, to know that she cared. But tonight, staring out into all that gray emptiness, it struck him as selfishness on her part. She wanted him to put on a brave face, for her. Oh, sure – to be fair, she was probably thinking of the morale of the expedition. To see the ranking military officer in such a pathetic state would scare a lot of people. He had an image to maintain.

John sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. Was that really all he was to these people? The ranking military officer? The thought was painful, but true. The only person in this city who called him by his first name was Elizabeth – sometimes. Most of the time, though, he was just "Major Sheppard." How many people in Atlantis even knew his first name? Was he destined to be an outcast… forever? The prospect loomed before him, burning with the heat of a sun. Maybe that was what hell was like.

The ocean lapped at the edges if the city below, the sound capturing his attention. It beckoned, promising an enveloping coolness as kind as Dania's gentle ministrations – but at the same time, ensuring that he would disappear without a trace, with only an ephemeral ripple to mark his passing. No – somehow, he would atone for what he'd done. Or die trying. The people of that planet deserved at least that much.

God, the place didn't even have a name – just a meaningless alphanumeric designation. It seemed almost disrespectful to refer to it as "M3X-666." It did no justice to the rich culture, the history, the kind and peaceful people… The shame finally overwhelmed him, and the first tear slid down his cheek. His knees buckled, and he slid to the floor, silently sobbing.

Nobody knew. Nobody would ever know. He couldn't let them see him like this… He really was alone. In a city of hundreds, he was alone.

The clouds parted, and the light of the full moon fell across his trembling shoulders like a mother's comforting touch.