Many people would take me as a know-it-all who doesn't care for anyone or anything. They'd be wrong in thinking that. Sure, I act smug, my ego is far from lacking and I am not afraid to show it if people annoy me in any way, shape or form. But that's not all I am. Not many people see the other side of me, the side that worries when my friends are in trouble, the side that would rather join in the fun than work. I've only met a couple of people who have gotten to know me well enough to see what I truly am. One of those people was my sister. She loved me even though my parents did not. She helped look after me, played games with me and was even there when I needed someone to talk to.

But it wasn't enough, especially when I had to move. I was twenty one when I finally lived on my own. I lost all contact with my sister when I came here, to Atlantis. It was here that I met the other person who saw me in a clear view. Every other person was - is, blind to who I really am. But he isn't. No, not Sheppard. It was odd when I first met the used-to-be Air Force Major. We became friends in a weird kind of way. He was the only one to take my snark without offence, the only one to trust me when everyone else bet against me.

He's a Lieutenant Colonel now. You know, you wouldn't believe how happy I was for him when he got the promotion. He damn sure deserved it. I was at the ceremony when it was announced. The look on his face was priceless. Nothing was able to wipe his grin off for the rest of the day. I've known the messy haired Colonel for around three years now and in that time we've both developed a greater friendship than I ever imagined I could have. Heck, I'd even go as far as saying that he is like a brother to me. Not that we ever mention it. No, that's not how we distinguish it. We know it's there without having to be told.

I watch him now as he waltzes into the mess hall, humming a tune that I'm not familiar with. He grabs his food and spots me sitting in the corner. He smiles and comes over, asking if I'd like company. I accept gratefully as I would rather have someone to talk to than be on my own. We talk about the next scheduled mission, about what we're going to do next time we get back to Earth and about the new artifact that he knows I can't wait to examine. He then challenges me in a game of chess.

He's the only person I've ever met that can continuously beat me at that game. Every time he says 'Checkmate' a small smile appears on my lips. It's nice to know the man has intelligence. I know he's passed Mensa before but he's never told me why he didn't join. I don't pry for an answer, I know better than that. He doesn't ask me about my past, I don't ask him about his. It is like an unspoken agreement we made the first year we met. I sigh as our game is interrupted by Doctor Weir over the radio. The 'gate seems to be activating and there are no offworld teams out.

Me and Sheppard run down the halls towards the gateroom. We're greeted by Elizabeth. The wormhole is already engaged and the shield is up. We all wait.

My attention is grabbed away from the 'gate as a technician starts to panic. I rush over to the console and my eyes widen. Someone on the otherside of the wormhole is trying to reprogramme the shield using a method I can't understand. I frantically try to counter the programme but it's too late. I look up at the 'gate just as the shield deactivates. I hear Sheppard's and Elizabeth's protests and I reassure them that it wasn't anyone from here that messed with it.

It's weird, how in the blink of an eye your whole world can come crashing down upon you. I hate the infirmary, especially when I'm the patient. The only time I hate it more is when my friend is the patient. I sit beside the unconscious man, he's been out for at least three hours, maybe more, maybe less. I lost track of time quite a while ago. It isn't fair. It's always him that gets hurt.

My other friends tell me not to blame myself but I can't help it. If I had been able to put the shield back up he wouldn't have gotten hit with the projectile that came hurtling through the wormhole. It was about three inches long and had the thickness of a needle. It sliced through his chest before anyone had even acknowledged the ripple in the wormhole. But everyone had heard the cry of pain, followed by the thud as he fell to the floor. The weapon was of Wraith design as far as I could tell. It was meant to hit a computer and allow them access to Atlantis' technology, but it had hit another target.

A small shock had been sent through Sheppard's entire body, that was why he had been knocked unconscious. He hadn't woken since. Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon all came to visit him to make sure he was getting better. I hadn't moved from his side since I had gotten here. Carson had been adiment that I leave while the surgery took place to take out the weapon, but I had refused, staying just beside the curtain that ensured privacy.

I hated myself for being like this. It was all his fault. He was the reason I felt this guilt, this pain. He was the one who had gotten too close to me emotionally. I had sobbed during the first half hour after the surgery. It was like watching the closest thing to family I had be killed. Quite ironic that feeling was though, especially since I had actually witnessed the man die in real life. Sure, his heart had been restarted but still, he wasn't officially alive during those moments.

I can't hide the grin that is plastered on my face as I walk down the halls, a tray full of food in my hands. People walk by me and wonder why I'm in such a happy mood. The answer is simple enough. As I walk into the infirmary I'm greeted with a grateful smile. I lay down the food and sit on the bed next to him as he eats. We engage in small banter and after he has finished he moves the tray onto the bedside table.

I tell him that I have figured out how to stop the Wraith from ever being able to lower our shield again. He listens as I tell him the details of how they managed it and of how I managed to counter the affects. I notice that his eyes are wondering around the room. Most people would find this as a sign of lack of interest, but I know he is paying attention. He always does when I explain anything. He cares more than he lets anyone know. But he does know that I know he cares.

I smirk when he asks me for a rematch in chess because we weren't able to finish our game. I gladly accept. I mean, he's my brother, and I'd do anything for him that is in my power, even if it that just entails me engaging him in a friendly logical game of chess.

Fin