NOTES:

Thank you, everyone who has left reviews or faves on other stories in this series. It means a lot!

For those who remember, I mentioned a few stories ago there would be a plotline with Thompson, but then it was cut at the time because it didn't fit. I promised I would use it in another story, and here it is. I hope it works for you and that it was worth the wait.

This follows immediately after the end of s01e14 Sanctuary. Dialogue from the episode was written by Alan Brennert

Thanks as always to Lyn for beta reading!

UPDATE July 2024—This is the next story to get a refresh. As with the previous stories, the plot is the same. However, the grammar has been cleaned up, and the passive exposition has been replaced with a more active voice. I hope you enjoyed this updated version.

"This is … cool," John muttered as Chaya shifted to her ascended form, and her light surrounded them.

A feeling of warmth, contentment, and peace surrounded him. John willingly sank into those feelings, letting go of his recent fear for Chaya's safety and his frustration at McKay for his recent attitude.

In the blink of an eye, John saw Athar's entire history and what saving her people had cost her. As he absorbed everything about her, Athar took in everything about him. All of his carefully locked boxes were thrown open as she learnt of his secrets, fears, and responsibilities.

And then it was over.

John staggered as the light faded, and once again, Chaya stood in front of him. She let go of his arms and stepped back with a sad smile. "Now you understand all of me." She brushed a hand lightly across his cheek. "You understand now why I can never leave Proculus."

Chaya let her hand fall back to her side. "Just as I know you cannot leave Atlantis and the people there." She looked into his eyes. "I even understand the unique relationship you have with Doctor McKay."

John started at her pronouncement and frowned. The existence of the mental link was not something he wanted getting around outside the team. "You do?"

Chaya nodded. "Those who shared such a mental bond were rare in Atlantis. You are truly fortunate."

John gave her a crooked smile at that last comment. Now that he was no longer surrounded by Athar's light, he felt the anger and frustration at McKay for how he'd treated Chaya return.

Maybe that's why she'd told him, John thought to himself. If Chaya could forgive McKay for his aggressive attitude, maybe he should, too.

Chaya smiled and moved away from him, up the temple stairs.

Had she known what he was thinking? John wondered.

"Now you must go, John. Before the others realise you are here."

John looked up at Chaya as she disappeared inside the stone temple. He was about to leave when Chaya's voice drifted down from the balcony above him, "Farewell, John. And thank you."

"Any time," John whispered.

He stood at the base of the stairs a moment longer, then turned and walked back to where he'd left the jumper. Once back in the shuttle, he sat in the pilot's seat, replaying what had just happened in his mind in a vain attempt to remember everything he had learnt.

Flashes of the Ancient's war with the Wraith.

People running as beams of light descended from the sky.

Chaya standing in a council chamber.

Chaya's abiding love for her people.

Other memories and feelings were already fading.

John looked out the windscreen at the temple in the distance, powered up the jumper, and took off. As he passed over Chaya's temple, he saw her in her human form, standing on a balcony. She waved to him just before she shifted back to her ascended self, and he smiled.

They both knew the chances he would return were slim. John made one last pass over the temple and garden before he aimed the jumper toward the sky. He had a city to return to and a friend to talk to.

The 'gate flared to life as he approached and, just like that, he was home. John saw Elizabeth leave her office as the docking system took control of the ship, raising it into the jumper bay. He saw Weir's pensive expression, and from how she crossed her arms over her chest, he knew she wasn't happy with what he had done.

Okay, there are two people you need to explain things to, John thought as he lost sight of Elizabeth.

"John," Elizabeth said over the radio. "Once Carson gives you the all clear, we need to talk."

"Copy that," John replied with a wince as the jumper rose into the bay.

An hour later, showered and passed by Doctor Beckett as healthy, he crossed the walkway from the control room and tapped at Elizabeth's door.

Elizabeth looked up from her computer and waved him into the office.

John sat in front of her desk, watching as she closed the computer and tried to assess how much trouble he was in for his mad dash to fly off after Chaya.

"Major," Elizabeth said. "I take it you were successful in fending off the Wraith from Chaya's planet?"

John sat back in the chair. "The people there are safe," he said carefully. "Chaya, or Athar, I guess, was able to defeat the two hive ships attacking the planet."

"I see," Elizabeth replied, her tone neutral. "I don't suppose she had a change of heart regarding the people in this galaxy as a result of returning to Atlantis?"

John glanced down at his hands and shook his head. "No. She finally explained why, though." He looked up at Elizabeth with a crooked smile. "Seems she went against some of the other ascended Ancients and saved the people on Proculus even after she was ordered not to. She's prohibited from trying to help anyone else as punishment."

"I guess you have more in common than you thought," Elizabeth said with a tiny smile.

John thought again of everything he'd learnt about Chaya as they 'shared' each other. There were many similarities, he could admit. They both had an abiding need to help others. They'd both been punished for disregarding the will of others to satisfy that need.

They were both lonely.

Was that what it really boiled down to? he wondered. They had sensed the deep loneliness in each other?

His job had ruined his marriage, and he never really dated again after things ended with Nancy. Chaya had been the first woman in a long time with whom he had felt such an instant connection.

McKay would probably say it was their Ancient genes calling to each other. A more polite way of saying he'd been thinking with something other than his head, John thought wryly.

"John? Are you all right?"

John looked at Elizabeth. "Yeah. Maybe just tired. It's been a long day."

"Yes, it has," Elizabeth agreed. "Get some rest. I'll want your report on what happened on Proculus on my desk tomorrow."

John accepted the dismissal and left Weir's office. He nodded to Grodin at the control console on his way past, exited the control room, and walked back to the transporter.

Find dinner and then deal with McKay, he decided and tapped the map for the mess hall.

It was late, and the mess hall was dim and quiet after the dinner rush. John gathered a few items on a tray and a cup of coffee before heading to a table near the windows. He was just as glad to eat alone for once. He was not looking forward to another confrontation with McKay about Chaya.

"A word of caution? The whole Captain Kirk routine is problematic, to say the least, let alone morally dubious."

"What routine?" John growled.

McKay shook his head. "The romancing the alien priestess? It's very 1967 of you. Actually, I'm surprised -"

John scowled. "If and when anything I do becomes your business -"

"It becomes my business, Major," McKay sneered, "when an alien woman, who is clearly not who she claims to be, has the ranking military officer wrapped around her little finger."

John finished eating, poured himself a second cup of coffee, and stared out the windows at the moonlight reflecting off the water.

The problem was McKay had been right, John thought with a frown as he sipped his coffee. Chaya had been more than she claimed to be.

But McKay was wrong, too, he mentally argued. Neither Chaya nor Athar posed a threat to Atlantis or the expedition. He might have been distracted by Chaya and his emotions, but McKay had been out of line with how he'd acted, John grumbled to himself. He'd had a problem with Chaya almost from the instant he'd met her. Going so far as to spy on her. Spy on them together.

John felt his temper rising and forced himself to calm down. If he was going to confront McKay about his attitude toward Chaya, he had to do it with a clear head. He finished his coffee, took one last glance out the window at the moonlit water, and headed for the transporter.

Quarters or lab, John debated once he was inside the transporter. He's probably still mad about Chaya and you haring off after her, he thought as his hand wavered over the map. Which means he's most likely working late on some project or other.

John tapped the map section for the science labs and stepped out into a dim and quiet hallway a moment later. He walked down the hall and around the corner to McKay's lab and wasn't surprised when he saw the door closed.

"Figures," John muttered as he stopped in front of the door. "He's probably locked it too."

John waved one hand over the door sensor. He had his other hand up, ready to pound on the door when it inevitably remained closed, and was surprised when the door whispered open. The room was dark, but John stepped inside anyway.

"McKay?" John called, even though he was sure McKay wasn't hiding in the dark room. He stepped out of the room, waited for the door to close, then walked back up the hall.

Okay, he thought, not in the lab. He waved his hand over the transporter sensor. Where else should he look?

He spent the next hour checking the pier where they had drunk beer and John had given McKay the telegraph, then the various balconies he knew McKay frequented when he wanted to think, and finally, McKay's quarters.

McKay didn't answer the door when John tried the sensor or when he knocked. He thought about overriding the lock, McKay had never reset it after the scare with the transformer, but changed his mind.

"All right, McKay, you want to play this game," John muttered with a scowl as he walked down the hallway toward his room. "I'll let it go for now. But you can't hide forever."

~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~

The next morning, John headed for the mess hall, intent on clearing the air. It wasn't any of McKay's business what John did during his off hours, he silently fumed.

He glanced around the mess hall as he entered and frowned when he only saw Ford sitting at their usual table. John made his way through the mess line, grabbing his usual eggs and a cup of coffee, and headed for his lone teammate.

"Ford," John greeted as he sat down.

"Morning, Major," Ford replied, scraping up the last bits of oatmeal from his bowl.

"Where are Teyla and McKay?" John asked, and stabbed the pile of reconstituted eggs with his fork. "I can see McKay being late, but Teyla usually beats me here."

"Umm."

John looked up and caught the guilty expression on Ford's face before the lieutenant ducked his head and grabbed his juice glass.

"Something you want to tell me, Lieutenant?" John asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

"Didn't anyone tell you, sir?" Ford asked, and John watched as the guilty expression morphed into fake innocence.

John dropped his fork and stared, stone-faced, across the table. You were only gone a few hours, he reminded himself. Thanks to the mental link, you would know if something had happened to McKay, and someone would have told you if Teyla were injured.

"Maybe they were waiting for my second-in-command to do it," John ground out.

Ford gulped his juice, gathered his few breakfast dishes, and stood. "Umm, right. Sergeant Stackhouse radioed yesterday after you'd …" Ford paused. "left to help Chaya. His team had found what looked like a cache of Ancient technology, and he needed someone to examine the devices they'd found to make sure they were safe to transport back to Atlantis."

"Okay," John said. "What's this got to do with McKay and Teyla?"

Ford stepped back from the table, his dishes loaded on the tray in his hands. "Umm, Doctor McKay was still in the control room when Stackhouse checked in with the news. McKay told Doctor Weir he would go check out the site. Teyla offered to go with him."

"And Elizabeth just let him go?" John asked, stunned.

"Sort of, sir. What I heard from one of the Marines on the security detail was McKay wasn't in the mood to take 'no' for an answer. You were already gone, and I was helping Doctor Zelenka track down a problem with the air circulators in one of the lower levels. According to Collins, Doctor McKay didn't want Teyla to go with him, either, but she insisted, and Doctor Weir agreed to let them both go."

John sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. As avoidance techniques went, McKay had outdone himself, he grumbled to himself. Leaving not only the city but the planet in order to get away from him. Add running off to the list of things we're going to discuss once you get back, John promised the absent McKay.

"Maybe I'll just wander up to the control room and see how things are going on Stackhouse's mission," John said, hiding his smile as Ford visibly relaxed.

"Yes, sir," he said. "If you need me to go to P2J-883 with you, I'll be in the gym."

John nodded and watched Ford leave the room. He wasn't sure who he was more angry with, McKay for leaving on a mission without the rest of the team or Weir for letting him go.

"Just what sort of mission did you assign yourself, McKay?"

He finished the rest of his breakfast, dumped his dishes in a bin for washing, and headed up to Elizabeth's office.

"Was there something you forgot to tell me last night?" John asked as he stood in the doorway to Weir's office a few minutes later. "Something about two members of my team volunteering for an off-world mission, maybe?"

Elizabeth sighed and put down the report she was reading as she waved him into the office. "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Major. Sergeant Stackhouse needed help evaluating several Ancient devices, and Rodney offered to go and see what they had."

"And you didn't think it was odd for McKay to volunteer for a mission?" John asked. "Or that he apparently didn't want anyone to go with him?"

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair and waited until John sat across from her. "Honestly? No, I didn't."

"You're kidding?" John exclaimed. "McKay never volunteers for anything."

Elizabeth frowned. "You two seemed more than a little at odds with each other the last two days."

"A word of caution? The whole Captain Kirk routine is problematic, to say the least, let alone morally dubious."

John shrugged, unwilling to admit he was still a little miffed at McKay's actions.

"I think he wanted a chance to clear his head before seeing you again," Elizabeth finished.

John sighed. "I know I need to talk to him. Sort things out." He leaned back in his chair, trying to project an air of casual indifference. "Maybe I'll drop in on Stackhouse's team and see how things are going."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I'd leave Rodney be for right now, Major. Sergeant Stackhouse and his team have been on the planet for over a week with no issues. Give Rodney a couple of days to cool off. Then apologise to him."

"What?" John asked, sitting forward in the chair, all pretext of magnanimity gone. "I think you've got that backwards. After the way he'd acted around Chaya? He followed us out to the southwest pier, for pete's sake."

"I didn't say he didn't owe you an apology as well," Elizabeth said calmly as John shifted in the chair. She smiled and added, "Stackhouse is due to check in in six hours. I'll let you know when he radios. You can see for yourself, then, that Rodney is fine."

"Fine," John agreed with bad grace and stood. "There are some things I need to get done anyway."

John spent the rest of the morning dealing with the accumulation of paperwork on his desk and working on off-world team assignments. As he looked at the upcoming schedule, he realised once again that three off-world teams just weren't enough to cover the number of planets they needed to explore and hopefully set up friendly relations.

He threw his pen back on the desk, leaned back in his chair, and thought about who he could tap as another team leader. They needed at least one more team. Two more would be ideal. As he ran through the roster of Marines in his head, one name immediately came to mind.

"Hopefully, he'll agree," John murmured, tapping his radio. "Sheppard to Thompson."

"Thompson here, sir."

John smiled at the crisp response. "Sergeant, I need to discuss something with you. Can you meet me in my office?"

"Yes, sir," Thompson replied. "I'll be there in five, sir."

"No rush, Sergeant," John replied. "Sheppard out."

Four and a half minutes later, there was a knock at his open door. John looked up and saw Sergeant Thompson standing in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter. John waved him into the office and pointed to the chair in front of his desk. As Thompson sat, John rested his clasped hands on a closed file folder.

"I've been reading the latest reports on your missions helping Sergeant Markham's team with a resource treaty on P6X-449 and how you've stepped up to assist Lieutenant Ford in training the off-world teams and the gateroom security force in hand-to-hand and knife fighting. Good work."

"Thank you, sir," Thompson said with a nod, his expression stoic.

John studied Thompson for a moment, then opened the folder. He made a show of examining the file's contents, then glanced at Thompson.

"You were part of Desert Storm?"

"Yes, sir. Was back in-country for Nasiriyah a couple of years ago."

John nodded and pretended to read more of the file while keeping one eye on Thompson.

Thompson sat straight with his gaze focused on a point on the wall to the left of John's head.

Damn, John thought. Never play poker with this guy.

He flipped the folder closed and leaned forward with his arms resting on his desk. "Since Sergeant Bates became the head of base security, we've been down a team for off-world missions. That's something I want to try and rectify with your help."

Thompson met John's gaze. "Anything you need, sir."

"I was hoping you'd say that," John said with a smile. "I've decided we need two more off-world teams, and I want you to lead one of them."

John watched as Thompson tried to maintain his stoic expression for a moment before the smile bloomed across his face. "Yes, sir. I would absolutely accept such an assignment."

John's smile widened at the enthusiastic response. "Good! I'll talk to Doctor Weir about adding your team to the mission rotation."

Thompson looked down at the floor and pursed his lips. He gave John a sideways look as if he wanted to say something else but wasn't sure how to broach the subject.

"What's the problem?" John asked, seeing Thompson's pensive expression.

"I just wondered, sir. Would I be able to choose my team members?"

"Was there someone, in particular, you wanted?" John asked. "As long as he or she isn't on a current team, it shouldn't be a problem."

Thompson shook his head, then hesitated. "More the opposite, sir. There is someone I would prefer not to have on any team I lead. If it's possible, sir."

John frowned and ran back through what he knew from Thompson's file. The man was a career Marine with an excellent service record and more than a few commendation letters for exemplary service. No disciplinary actions, and no notes from Ford, off the record, of problems with anyone else in the expedition crew.

"Who would that be?" John asked and wondered if Thompson would tell him. It was an unwritten rule in the military that non-comms rarely told officers about interpersonal problems.

Thompson's gaze locked on the section of the wall to the left of John's head. "Corporal Bowers, sir," he said in a low voice.

Bowers. John should have known. If Kavanagh was the thorn in McKay's side, Bowers was one of the thorns John dealt with on a regular basis. He knew about the rumors Bowers tried to spread after McKay's accident with the transformer. He also knew all about the advanced training session Teyla had used as an excuse to remind Bowers McKay had a team watching his back.

Bowers had more than one official reprimand in his file for fighting as well as write-ups for numerous petty offences since their arrival in the Pegasus galaxy.

If McKay ever finds a way to contact Earth, Bowers will be one of the first sent back to the Milky Way, John silently promised. With a recommendation for the most remote duty location the Pentagon could come up with for reassignment.

John clasped his hands on the desk and smiled. "I don't think that will be a problem, Sergeant," John assured him. "You give me a list of potential team members, don't forget you'll need someone from the science department, and I'll see about getting you the people you want."

Thompson relaxed in his chair and nodded. "I have a few ideas for Marines, sir. But I don't know many scientists other than Doctor McKay."

"And he's off-world at the moment," John told him, and he tried to ignore the niggle of worry that McKay was off-world without him. "Contact Doctor Zelenka. He can give you a few names of scientists interested in off-world exploration missions. Talk to them and let me know who you want."

Yes, sir," Thompson said and stood. "Thank you, sir, for this opportunity. I won't let you down."

"Never thought you would, Sergeant," John replied and stood. "Dismissed."

Thompson saluted and left the office.

John waited until he was sure Thompson was gone, then tapped his radio. "Sheppard to Weir."

"Go ahead, Major," Elizabeth replied. "It's still two hours before Sergeant Stackhouse is due to check in."

John shook his head. "This isn't about Stackhouse. I wanted to talk to you about the idea I had a few weeks ago of adding more off-world teams."

There was a pause over the radio. "I'm about to meet with the geology team about a mission to M2R-937. It will have to wait until after that. Say an hour?"

John glanced at his watch and smiled. The convenient timing meant they would have just enough time to discuss adding a new team before Stackhouse was due to check-in. When did he get so easy to read? he wondered, knowing Elizabeth had timed their meeting so he would be in the control room when Stackhouse called.

"An hour, then," John agreed and clicked off the radio. That would give him enough time for a quick run and a chance to think about everything that had happened between McKay and Chaya.

John stopped in his quarters long enough to change into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. He glanced down the hall toward McKay's door as he left his room and shook his head.

What the hell had been his problem? John wondered as he turned and headed toward the transporter at the other end of the hall.

He exited the transporter and felt a shiver as the cooler air hit his skin. You'll warm up soon enough, he told himself, and started his usual circuit through the empty lower levels, replaying everything that had happened over the last two days.

He was on his second loop when it hit him. "He was jealous!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "First David and now McKay."

He remembered his laid-back little brother suddenly turning into a grumpy, surly jerk whenever John had a date. McKay had acted the same way, John realised. Rude. Arrogant. As if he was trying to pick a fight with Chaya, or John, or maybe both.

"So, was McKay jealous that Chaya had chosen me over him, or was it something else?"

He jogged in place as a long-ago memory surfaced.

"What's his problem now?" John complained as David glared at him then stomped out of the room.

"Isn't it obvious?" their housekeeper, Sally, replied.

John crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "Not to me. All I said was I was taking Debbie to see a movie this weekend."

Sally smiled. "I think David might be missing having you around. He misses doing things with his big brother."

John stared at the grating under his feet. Was it happening again? he wondered. McKay thought he was spending too much time with Chaya and was jealous of the attention John gave her over him?

He finished the circuit and started a third as he turned the problem over in his head. If he was brutally honest with himself, he had let his emotions get in the way of his job. And McKay had been right. She was an alien, and she hadn't told them everything. Maybe it was partially his fault for their problems over the last two days, he realised.

The Captain Kirk comment had been unnecessary, though, he decided as he finished his run and headed back to his quarters.

Showered and in a clean uniform, John headed to Elizabeth's office. He knocked on the open door frame, waited for Weir to wave him into the room, and sat in one of the chairs fronting Elizabeth's desk.

"You mentioned adding another exploration team," Elizabeth said, clasping her hands on the desk.

"I did, and I've already talked to my candidate for team leader," John replied and explained his idea of Sergeant Thompson heading up the new team.

"Sergeant Thompson is a good choice," Elizabeth agreed once John finished. "You said we needed two more teams. Any thoughts on the other team leader?"

John shook his head. "I'd like to get Thompson's team up and running first. See how they work as a group and what sort of missions they would be best suited to handle. That will give Ford and me time to go through the roster and see who else would be a good candidate for a team lead position."

Elizabeth nodded as she made a few notes on a pad of paper.

"Let me know when Sergeant Thompson has his team in place," Elizabeth said, but stopped when the stargate lit up.

"Incoming wormhole from P2J-883," Grodin said over the open radio channel as lights ran around the 'gate and the chevrons locked in place.

"Just your luck, Major," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Sergeant Stackhouse is twenty minutes early for his check-in."

John followed her out of the office and over to Grodin at the control console. "It looks like another video message," Grodin said, studying his computer screen. "Give me a moment to decompress it."

John stood to one side as Grodin tapped on the computer keyboard for a few minutes. "Got it," he said and hit one last key, sending the video to the large monitor behind the consoles.

The video was shaky for a few frames until whoever the cameraman was steadied the image on Sergeant Stackhouse. John saw the team had set up in a large clearing with a few trees in the near distance. Several stone buildings stood in crumbled ruins behind Stackhouse, along with two large, white expedition tents.

John studied the image and felt a weight lift when he caught a glimpse of McKay and Teyla facing the camera in the background near one of the stone buildings.

"Sergeant Thomas Stackhouse, team leader, day ten on P2J-883. We have started to explore the area with the second cache of Ancient devices. Doctor Corrigan has discovered what appears to be logs or records of what the Ancients were doing at the site. From what he's been able to translate, the site was used mainly as a research outpost. However, Doctor Corrigan has not been able to decipher what, exactly, it was they were doing.

"We are still excavating part of the lower level of the main building." Stackhouse jerked his chin over his shoulder at the large stone building behind him. "Several items have already been cleared by Doctor McKay to be brought back to Atlantis."

John watched as the camera panned over a small assemblage of items lined up against a wall of one of the ruined buildings. He only gave the items a cursory glance since the camera had also focused on McKay and Teyla standing next to the artefacts.

John noted they were both in short sleeves and wearing tac-vests. Teyla did not have a P-90, but John saw the holsters for the sidearms they both carried. Teyla looked relaxed as she looked around the area. McKay looked tired.

Probably from all that spying you've been doing, John uncharitably thought.

He also saw fresh bandages on two of McKay's fingers when he gave the camera a hesitant wave, and John shook his head.

Stackhouse glanced down at his watch. "Next check-in will be in sixteen hours. Doctor McKay and Teyla will also be returning with the first of the Ancient items at that time. Stackhouse out."

John watched as the camera made one last pan of the area and caught McKay seemingly staring back at him before the video cut off.

Elizabeth caught John's eye and nodded back in the direction of her office.

"Everything seemed fine to me," she said as she sat behind her desk. "Do you still think you need to go charging out there?"

John gave her a sheepish look. "Point taken," he said. "I guess I can wait until they get back tomorrow."

He turned toward the door and stopped when Elizabeth said, "John, I'm sure you two will work things out." She clasped her hands on her desk. "Teyla would probably tell you brothers are allowed to disagree with each other on occasion."

John thought back to his high school days, and David fighting with him almost as much as his father. He didn't have much experience reconciling with family after such a big argument and suspected McKay had even less.

Great, John thought as he left the office. He suspected he'd have to be the one to make the first move, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to do that yet. Regardless of how right he might have been in some respects, McKay had been out of line, John grumbled as he left the control room and headed back to his office. The sooner McKay realised that the sooner they could start mending fences.

~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~

John startled awake from a sound sleep and looked around for what had woken him up. He didn't hear or see anything out of place but couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

He got up, dressed quickly in a t-shirt and his uniform trousers and headed for the control room. He stopped just inside the door and found everything seemed quiet and normal. No alarms sounded. No calls to Zelenka about a system about to go critical and explode. Everyone went about their business the same way they did every night.

Chuck looked up from the control console, saw him and asked, "Is there something I can do for you, Major?"

John shook his head and wandered over to the console. "No, just couldn't sleep. Thought I'd make sure everything was all right up here."

Chuck glanced down at his console then over at the one next to him. "Everything seems fine, sir. City systems are all running smooth." He glanced at John and added, "Sergeant Stackhouse isn't due to check in for another three hours."

John narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, Sergeant Markham's team entered the gateroom with two scientists in tow. John recognised the tall man with dark hair and eyes as Volkov, the head of the geology department. He didn't know the blonde pony-tailed woman standing next to him.

"Ready to head out, Sergeant," Markham called up to the control room. He glanced up and froze when he saw John. "Oh, sorry, sir. I didn't realise you were there."

"I'm not really here," John replied with a smile as Chuck started the dialling sequence for the 'gate. "Where are you off to?"

Markham directed the rest of his team and the two scientists toward the 'gate. "Mission to M2R-937, sir. Doctor Volkov wants to set up some equipment to monitor a volcano in the area."

"Not just any volcano, Sergeant Markham," Volkov corrected. "It is a supervolcano, larger than anything we could study on Earth."

John smiled as Markham gave him a long-suffering look. "Well, good luck, Sergeant," John said as the wormhole formed.

"Thank you, sir. We should be back inside twenty-four hours."

John nodded, watched as the team disappeared through the 'gate, and the wormhole shut down a few moments later.

"That was about the most excitement we're going to have tonight, sir," Chuck said as he rechecked his console.

John gave him a crooked smile and headed back to his quarters. He still had a weird feeling something was wrong but couldn't figure out what it could be. Everything seemed fine, he told himself as he hung his trousers over the back of the desk chair.

He climbed into bed and tried to get a couple more hours of sleep.

Four hours later, he wandered into the mess hall, bleary-eyed and desperate for coffee. He'd tossed and turned for three hours before giving up and going for another quick run.

He made a beeline for the coffee urns, poured a cup, and took several quick sips before refilling the cup and finding a table. He didn't feel much like eating for some reason, and a corner of his mind wondered if something had happened during the 'sharing' he'd done with Chaya to explain his trouble sleeping and lack of appetite.

He shook his head and swallowed more coffee. If something had been wrong, Beckett would have found it during his post-mission physical. He finished his coffee and watched the early risers trickle into the mess hall for breakfast.

Ford arrived half an hour later, and John decided he needed to eat something even if he didn't feel like it. If he was going to confront McKay about what happened with Chaya, he didn't need the distraction of an empty stomach.

Speaking of McKay … He glanced at his watch and frowned. Stackhouse should have checked in by now. Why hadn't anyone called him to tell him McKay and Teyla were back?

John pushed back his chair and stood just as Ford arrived at the table with his breakfast. "That's going to have to wait," John said, heading for the door. "Something's wrong on P2J-883."

"Sir?" Ford asked as he dropped the tray on the table. He followed John out of the mess hall and toward the transporter to take them to the control room. "How do you know?"

"They're late checking in," John said as the transporter doors opened.

He led the way down the hallway and into the control room.

"Peter, dial the planet and see if you can make radio contact," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, ma'am," Grodin said and started the dialling sequence.

John stopped beside Weir, took one look at Elizabeth's face, and knew he was right. "What's happened?" he asked, glaring from Elizabeth to Grodin.

"That's what we're trying to find out, Major. Sergeant Stackhouse is two hours overdue for his check-in," Elizabeth said, concern plain in her expression.

A few seconds later, the wormhole formed, and Grodin said, "Atlantis base calling Sergeant Stackhouse. Please come in." Grodin paused, then said, "This is Atlantis calling any member of the research team. Please respond."

Grodin looked up and shook his head. "They aren't responding."

"How far is the 'gate from where they are working?" John asked.

"The ruins are a few miles from the 'gate, Major," Grodin replied.

"Can you access with MALP and turn on the camera?"

"I can try, but at that distance, the camera won't see much."

"Do it anyway," John ordered.

Grodin tapped several keys on the computer next to the console and glanced at the large screen behind them. "Image coming through now," he said.

John felt his expression harden into a stoic mask as the camera panned the area. The sun was high in the sky, and even from such a distance, it was obvious something had happened near the ruins. Smoke curled into the sky from one of the crumbling buildings, and white canvas flapped loose in the breeze.

He exchanged a quick look with Elizabeth before he turned to Ford. "Gear up," he ordered, his voice hard. "We're leaving in five." He heard Elizabeth calling Carson at the same time he tapped his earpiece. "Sergeant Thompson, this is Sheppard."

"Thompson here, sir."

"We have a situation on P2J-883. I want you and …" He paused for a moment, running through personnel files in his head. "Corporal Daley in the gateroom in five minutes."

"Yes, sir."

John didn't bother signing off the radio as he tapped his earpiece, turned, and headed for the armoury with Ford on his heels.

He checked and holstered his Beretta, pulled on a tac vest, and found a large backpack on a rack. He stuffed a handful of power bars, a first aid kit, MREs, and several bottles of water into the pack and stopped as a long-ago conversation with Beckett rose in his memory.

"Doc," John said, knocking on Beckett's office door. "Got a minute?"

Carson looked up from his computer and waved John into the room. "Major? Is there something the matter?"

"No, I wanted to talk to you about McKay."

Beckett closed the computer and sat back in his chair. "What's he gotten himself into now?"

John closed the office door and sat in the chair in front of Beckett's desk. "What can you tell me about hypoglycaemia?"

Carson smiled. "So you mean to go through with your plan of putting Rodney on your team?"

"He said yes when I asked him about it."

Carson nodded. "All right. For the most part, hypoglycaemia is not something to worry about. Things such as stress or strenuous exertion could change how fast he needed food, but as long as Rodney eats something on a regular schedule he is fine."

"Sir?" Ford said, pulling John back to the present.

John glanced at him and took the P-90 Ford held out to him.

"Better hand me some of the packets from the drink stash," he told Ford as he clipped the rifle to his vest.

He knew McKay kept one of the pockets of his tac-vest stocked with power bars. But after what happened on Kalani's planet, John and the rest of the team had started squirrelling away their unused powdered drink packets in case of a sugar emergency. Over the last few months, John had noticed the little stash of packets in the armoury had grown, and he wondered how many of the Marines knew what they were for and were quietly adding to the supply.

Ford handed him a handful of the packets along with extra magazines for the P-90 and his Beretta.

John added the items to the pack, zipped the pack closed, and clipped it to his vest. "Let's go," John ordered.

They entered the gateroom, and John saw Thompson and Corporal Daley, her short, red hair a stark contrast to the grey of the gateroom, standing near the 'gate. Carson and a pair of medical technicals waited near the steps leading up to the control room.

"Doc," John greeted and nodded to Thompson.

"Major?" Carson asked as Grodin dialled the 'gate again. "What's happened?"

"Not sure," John replied. "Stackhouse's team is late, and it looks like they ran into a problem."

"Rodney and Teyla were with them, were they not?" Carson asked softly.

The 'gate whooshed to life, then settled into a shimmering pool.

"Yeah," John said shortly as the wormhole formed. "Which means they're probably in trouble."

John signalled Thompson and Daley through the 'gate and turned as Elizabeth called down to him.

"Major? Bring them back."

John nodded, his expression grim. "I plan to," he said as he followed Thompson through the 'gate.

He heard Elizabeth say, "Be careful," as he stepped through the event horizon and, moments later, found himself on P2J-883, Ford at his side.

Thompson and Daley knelt on either side of the 'gate, sweeping the surrounding area with their weapons and looking for threats. Ford, crouched to make a smaller target, advanced to the DHD and scanned the area ahead, his P-90 up and ready. John knelt in front of the 'gate, watching the path leading away from the clearing.

"Clear?" he called.

"Clear, sir," Ford responded.

"All clear," added Thompson and Daley.

John tapped his earpiece. "Atlantis, send Beckett and the medical team." He stepped away from the 'gate, still watching the path as Carson and his team arrived.

John waited until the wormhole closed, then motioned toward Ford.

Thompson and Daly covered Beckett and the med techs as they moved, and John kept the civilians in the middle of their huddle as he laid out his plan.

"The ruins are four miles in that direction," John said in a low voice as he pointed away from the stargate. "Thompson, you and Daley take the flanks. Ford, you have point." He turned to Carson. "Doc, no matter what happens, or what you see, you and your people stay behind us until we have the area secure."

Carson nodded and shifted the medical pack on his back.

"Ford," John said with a jerk of his head. "Let's go find our people."

"Yes, sir," Ford replied, and John noticed none of the usual happy-go-lucky attitude in the lieutenant. Ford's expression was closed, and his head moved back and forth, watching everything in front of them as he led the way toward the ruins.

It took them more than two hours of careful scouting to reach the ruins in a clearing backed by a stream and trees in the full bloom of spring. A corner of John's mind could easily understand why an Ancient population would have built their outpost in the area. It was a beautiful spot, and under other circumstances, John would have taken the time to savor the view. Now, however, they had a job to do.

"Thompson, check the ruins on the left, Ford, take the right. I'll take the tents. Daley, you stay here with Beckett until we give the all clear."

"Major," Carson said, his tone serious. "If any of our people are injured, it's been several hours since …" He glanced around the campsite, worry evident in his expression. "Time could be of the essence."

John turned around and lowered his P-90. "I hear you, Carson, but we have no idea what happened here or if whoever attacked our people left any surprises for anyone who came later. Better safe than sorry."

Beckett crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head in a nod before Sheppard headed toward the area of the ruins where he'd seen McKay and Teyla the day before. The items he'd seen lined up near the wall in the video the day before were missing.

He ducked under one of the slashed tents and scowled when he found overturned work tables, an empty metal rack of shelves lying in its side, broken stools, and various expedition equipment, including McKay's combo-computer tossed into a corner. Three crates of Ancient artefacts were broken open and their contents scattered across the ground.

John knelt, picked up a small blocky object with several buttons, and glanced around the tent. "Whoever did this took McKay and the others but left everything else behind. But who?" he wondered. "Genii? Wraith?"

He left the tent and jogged over to the corner of the large crumbling building he remembered from the video. He crouched low, leading with the P-90 as he eased his way around the corner, and froze when he found himself on the wrong end of a Beretta held in the shaking hands of Doctor Corrigan.

John ducked back and lowered his P-90. "Doctor Corrigan?" he said, forcing his voice to remain calm. "We're the good guys, Doc. I need you to put down the gun so we can help."

"Major Sheppard?" Corrigan said.

John peeked around the corner as the gun in Corrigan's hand drooped.

"Oh, thank god. I don't know what else to do for them." Corrigan jerked a thumb over his shoulder, and John saw two bodies lying on the floor of the ruined building.

"Okay, Doc," John said. "Like I said, we're here to help." He inched around the corner far enough to take the Beretta out of Corrigan's hand. "We brought Doctor Beckett with us. Everything's going to be fine."

John glanced behind Corrigan and forced his expression to remain neutral when he saw the bloody bandages. Neither man had reacted to his voice, John realised. Were they too late?

Corrigan shook his head and stared at the two bodies.

Shock, John realised. He rested a hand on Corrigan's shoulder, gently pushing until the scientist sat against the stone wall. "You kept them safe. You did good, Doc."

He squeezed Corrigan's shoulder, then stood and took a few steps toward the tent. He glanced back at Corrigan, then tapped his earpiece. "Carson, I've got Corrigan here, along with Stackhouse and Stephens, in the large building in front of you. They could use some help."

"We'll be right there, Major," Carson replied.

A few seconds later, John heard someone scrabbling around the ruins, and Beckett's face appeared around the corner. John caught a glimpse of Daley standing watch near the edge of the ruined building as Carson moved past him, gave Corrigan a quick once over, then headed farther into the building.

"How are you doing, Thomas, lad?" Carson murmured as he knelt next to Stackhouse. "I could use some light, Major," Beckett said in John's direction as he set his medical pack on the floor.

"Ford, see if you can find any of the expedition's excavation supplies," John said over the radio. "We need some lights in here."

"Yes, sir," Ford replied, and a few minutes later, he appeared with a couple of large flashlights. "Major, I think we're clear," Ford said as he passed off the lights to Beckett. "There's no sign of anyone still around." He let the comment hang, the implication of what he meant clear.

So they were taken. John glanced at the sparse copse of trees near the clearing's edge. But who? And where are they now?

He heard a groan behind him, turned, and saw Sergeant Stackhouse trying to sit up.

"Just stay where you are, lad," Carson admonished as he lifted the edge of the pressure bandage covering Stackhouse's shoulder.

"Check on Mike," Stackhouse groaned, waving his hand at the prone body beside him. "He alerted us to the attack. I think they shot him right after that."

John felt a stab in his gut at the word 'shot'. So, not the Wraith, he decided, glancing at the bloody bandages. Kolya? Had the Genii commander managed to kidnap McKay after all?

"I've got someone looking after Michael." Carson glanced up at one of his techs, motioning with his head to check the other body on the floor. "You just worry about yourself for a moment."

"He's alive," the tech kneeling beside Stephens murmured a few seconds later. "But we need to get him back to Atlantis. He's lost a lot of blood." The tech replaced the crude bandaging on Stephens' chest with clean pressure bandages.

Beckett nodded as he stood back and motioned to the other tech standing against the wall carrying a portable stretcher.

While Beckett and the techs were busy with Stephens, John knelt beside Stackhouse. "What happened?"

Stackhouse shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure, sir," he replied, his voice a bit breathless from the pain. "We've been here almost two weeks. No problems. No sign of anyone else on the planet." Stackhouse glanced at Stephens. "That we could prove anyway."

"That you could prove?" John asked with a frown.

Stackhouse tried to sit up again and groaned. He closed his eyes, then opened them and said, "A few days ago, Mike started saying he thought we were being watched. We went out to check, but couldn't find any traces of someone else near the camp. Then, early this morning, Stephens wakes me up. Tells me he's positive he heard someone moving around behind the ruins." Stackhouse shifted on the ground and winced. "I told him we would take another look, and he went outside. Before I could get out there with him, Mike starts yelling about an attack."

"Genii?" John asked.

Stackhouse shook his head. "No, sir. It was dark, but I think I would have noticed if they were Genii." He shifted and groaned again. "There were eight of them, sir. Big. Armed with crude guns. Definitely not Genii weapons. After they shot me and Stephens, they grabbed Teyla when she attacked one of them. Doctor McKay tried to help her, but one of them hit him over the head, and they took him, too."

John's expression went flat, and he had to put a hand against the wall to keep his balance as he crouched next to Stackhouse.

"How badly were they hurt?" he asked stiffly.

Stackhouse swallowed, then said, "Teyla seemed fine. She was kicking and fighting until they got her hands tied. One of the hostiles threatened to kill Doctor McKay if she didn't cooperate. She was able to walk when they left."

"And McKay?" John asked, unsure he wanted to know.

"Like I said, sir, they hit him over the head. He went down hard and was quickly tied up as well. They had to carry him, so I'm pretty sure he was unconscious."

John ducked his head as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I'm sorry, sir. There wasn't anything I could do to stop them."

John saw the misery and guilt in Stackhouse's expression and nodded. "Yeah, I know that," he said. He patted Stackhouse's arm as Carson knelt beside them.

"Major?" Carson said as he checked the bandage on Stackhouse's shoulder. "We need to go."

"Yeah," John said with a sigh and stood. "What about Ortega, Sergeant?" he asked as the med techs loaded Stackhouse onto the other stretcher.

"I ordered him to follow them, sir. Last time I saw them, they were heading toward the mountains." He nodded at the low hills in front of him.

John followed Carson out of the ruined building and motioned to Daley. "Corporal, you're in charge. Get Beckett and the injured back through the 'gate. Report to Doctor Weir about what happened here and tell her I want Markham's team on standby, assuming they're back from their mission, in case we need help."

"Yes, sir," Daley said and took the ends of one of the stretchers.

Carson gave John an appraising look. "You haven't felt anything through the mental link with regard to Rodney, Major?" he asked once the others were out of earshot.

John shook his head. For a fleeting moment, he again wondered if the 'sharing' had done something else to him, then told himself he was being foolish.

Carson looked pointedly at the mountains. "Interesting," he said in a low voice as Corrigan and the other med-tech passed them with Stackhouse's stretcher. "There must be a distance factor involved with the link. Any other time you or Rodney has been injured, you've been in close proximity to each other." He glanced back at John. "You may be able to use that to your advantage, Major."

It took John a moment to catch on to what Carson was implying, but when he did, he gave Beckett a nod. "I'll find them," he promised.

"I know you will, Major," Carson said and followed the stretcher-bearers. "Just bring them home in one piece. And yourself as well."

John nodded and watched as the stretcher teams headed out. Once they were gone, John turned to Ford and Thompson standing behind him. "According to Stackhouse, we have eight hostiles who kidnapped two of our people. We're going after them."

"Yes, sir," Ford replied, all business. Thompson adjusted the strap on his P-90 and nodded.

John headed toward the slashed tents, hoping to find a trail they could follow. He wandered back through one of the tents and sifted through the overturned tables and Ancient devices scattered on the ground. John paused when he saw what looked like the same box he remembered from McKay's lab pushed against one of the tables.

He picked up the box and set it on a stool along with a few other mysterious devices, and a couple of small books filled with Ancient text. He knew the fact that the equipment was left, but McKay and Teyla had been kidnapped was a bad sign. It meant they'd been targeted somehow. But by whom and why?

He walked over to the other tent and stepped inside. He spotted Rodney's pack and two tac-vests lying on the ground between two cots.

"Damn," he murmured as he closed his eyes.

"Sir?" Ford asked, coming up behind him.

"They don't have any supplies," John said, picking up the vests, one of them with a pocket full of power bars.

He patted the vest and pulled McKay's Ancient scanner out of another pocket. He powered on the device and tapped the screen until he found the information on life signs. There were several readings nearby, most likely from fish in the nearby stream or other animals. He didn't see any large groups of dots on the screen, however, and shut it off.

He stuffed the scanner into one of his vest pockets and looked over at Ford and Thompson. "According to Stackhouse, the attack happened early this morning." John glanced at the sun. "It's nearly noon, now. Which means our people have been missing for almost twelve hours. Corporal Ortega was following them. We need to find a trail and see if we can't catch up. I've got point. Thompson, you have our six."

John took one last look around the ruined campsite, then led the way toward the mountains in the near distance. "You better be all right, McKay," he muttered to himself.

On top of whatever other injuries he and Teyla may have, John knew with McKay's hypoglycaemia, they were now on a clock to find them. He did not want to consider the idea his last conversation with McKay had been a fight.