Chapter 7

It was the next morning before Sheppard began to rouse to the familiar sensation of sedatives blanketing him in their shielding embrace, protecting him from the harshness of reality after a sound night's sleep.

For just a second his mind cast him back to the cell on Tareb's ship and panic seized him, but then the steady, rhythmic beeping of medical equipment filtered through and he remembered all that was behind him now.

He was home.

He allowed his eyes to open to the bright new morning light streaming in though the infirmary windows, letting everything that had happened yesterday sink in.

He'd died again...and when he'd awoken this time everything had come flooding back in on him. It had been too much. He remembered crying...a lot. He couldn't even put his finger on exactly why he had cried. Relief? Anger? Fear? Maybe all of them. He still wasn't sure. His mind was a mess. He couldn't get a handle on anything churning around in there.

He rolled onto his back and tried to push up against his pillows, finding his arms weak and next to useless. He sighed and accepted that this was as upright as he was getting for now.

'You okay?'

Ronon.

He looked over to his left to see his friend lying right there in the bed next to him, giving him a smile.

'How's the leg?' he asked, remembering how much blood the man had been losing when he'd left him behind yesterday.

'S'fine,' Ronon replied. 'You gonna answer my question?'

Sheppard pondered a while, still too fuzzy to really comprehend the thoughts his mind was conjuring now he was awake again. 'Dunno,' he replied, the only honest answer he could give.

Ronon nodded as if he understood and left it at that. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up again. 'Nice job yesterday.'

Sheppard managed a brief smile. 'Thanks.'

'Guess it was okay for you to bleed out, but not me?'

Sheppard glanced over at him, seeing the humour sparkling in his eyes. 'To be fair, that wasn't the plan. Did you get your gun back?'

'Yeah.' Another pause. Then Ronon reached over to his nightstand and lifted it up. The metal was covered in blood spatters and the wrappings around the butt were imprinted with a partial bloody handprint. 'Needs cleaning.'

That gem made Sheppard laugh. 'Yeah...sorry about that.'

Ronon just looked his way and gave him a wicked grin.

'So...you know what damage we took?' Sheppard asked, looking for anything to take his mind off the unwanted memories of his incarceration. They were dancing at the periphery of his thoughts now, and he needed to fill his head with something else...anything else...to keep them at bay.

'Shield's still down...McKay's working on it.'

'Any casualties?'

'Lorne has a concussion. Other than that nothing worse than bumps and scrapes.'

Relief flooded through Sheppard. 'We got lucky.'

'We got you,' Ronon replied, matter-of-fact.

Embarrassed to have his friend place so much value on him, Sheppard looked away, staring down at the bump under the blankets where his feet were.

'Are we good, Sheppard?'

Confused, he looked Ronon's way again. 'Huh?'

'You and me – are we good?'

'Sure,' Sheppard nodded, wondering why they wouldn't be.

'I did try to kill you.'

Oh yeah, there was that. 'And if it wasn't for you we wouldn't have known anything about Tareb's plans, so I think you made up for that.'

Now it was Ronon's turn to look embarrassed. 'When I got tortured and turned on you, you never held it against me,' he mumbled into his chest. 'Even when I tried to have you turned into a Wraith Worshipper you never gave up on me.'

'I knew that wasn't something you would do if you were in your right mind,' Sheppard told him. 'That was the enzyme talking, not you.'

'I should have trusted you, not Tareb.'

Ronon finally looked over to him and Sheppard locked eyes with him, holding his gaze in earnest. 'This was different, Ronon. There was a body...' he choked on that final word and dropped back against his pillows, closing his eyes.

'I'm glad you killed that bastard,' Ronon said simply.

So was he. 'How'd you get him to talk?'

There was a distinct glint in Ronon's eyes, and he couldn't hide his smirk. 'Told him I was gonna give him a taste of his own medicine. Barely had to lay a finger on him...he just caved in.'

'Pity...' Sheppard mused. He'd have been a little happier if Tareb had suffered even a degree of what he'd put him through.

'He peed his pants.'

Okay, so maybe that humiliation made up for Tareb's lack of pain. Sure explained the change of clothes.

Another voice now broke into the conversation...or current lack of it. 'Colonel Sheppard...I thought I heard your voice,' Dr Keller called, heading over from her office. As she reached his bedside the smile she'd been wearing on approach shifted to a look of professional concern. 'How are you feeling this morning?'

'Uhhh, kinda woolly,' he said, scratching at the back of his head and yawning involuntarily.

'That'd be the sedatives we gave you. You were pretty distressed when you were brought in last night. We thought it best to let you sleep.'

He nodded, and a momentary memory of agonised torture popped into his head, the buzz of the mini saw echoing around in his skull. 'I think that was a good call,' he told her as he did his best to keep his breathing normal.

'I'm gonna put you on a course of anxiety meds for the time being...and I want you to submit for a psych evaluation so we can get you whatever help you need.'

He nodded, accepting everything she said without question. It went against his very nature to take that kind of help. He was strong...stubborn even...and self-sufficient. He'd had to be after his mother died because his dad had pretty much withdrawn from family life after that. But right now the screams inside him, not just the sounds of his memories, but of his own mind telling him that this was too much and he couldn't deal with it, were beyond anything he'd ever experienced. And he would do whatever it took to silence them.

Something must have shown in his expression because Jennifer instantly reacted in full doctor mode.

'I'm gonna get you something right now,' she told him, rubbing his arm. 'You know...this is probably gonna sound like a pathetic platitude, but time really is a great healer. It's gonna take a while, but gradually, day by day with help, these feelings you have now will get more and more distant until one day you'll realise you're okay.'

He knew in his heart she was right, but that day seemed a long way off as he looked back at her, seeing the gut wrenching sympathy she didn't dare fully express.

'Teyla and Rodney wanted me to let them know when you woke up. Are you up for a visit?' she asked as she turned to leave.

He looked over at Ronon. The big guy was frowning at him, clearly worried by his behaviour. And normally this would be the point when he would put on a front and make out everything was fine...do the small talk thing and put everyone at ease. But not today. He was tired and his chest was cramped with nauseous anxiety that was making it hard to breathe. Today he couldn't be everything they needed him to be. He wondered if he ever would be again.

'Maybe after those meds,' he said quietly, and she nodded, exchanging a look with Ronon that he interpreted as an instruction for the Satedan to keep an eye on him before she headed off to fetch his medication.

Sheppard lay back against his pillows and closed his eyes, concentrating on slowing down his heart rate and keeping his breathing even. He didn't like the idea of relying on meds, but this body still felt alien to him, like a horse that needed breaking. Normally he had total control of his emotions, but with his physical strength at such a low ebb and his mental state still in turmoil he knew he needed whatever help he could get until he could regain his control.

Unexpectedly, he felt the touch of a heavy hand on his shoulder. He snapped his eyes open to find that Ronon had slid out of his bed and was now gripping his shoulder, looking down at him with more compassion than he thought he'd ever seen on the Satedan's face. 'You'll beat this, Sheppard.'

Struggling not to break down, Sheppard pressed his lips into a grim smile and gave a sharp nod. Then he rolled onto his side, breaking the contact and praying Keller didn't take too long. He wanted to be cushioned from the memories of what Tareb had done to him, over and over. One day he might wake up and be okay, but that day wasn't coming any time soon, and not knowing when it might come made his torment all the harder to bear.

oooOOOooo

He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep until he felt a tug on his hand and snapped awake again.

Two big brown eyes peered up from the side of the bed at him, and a playful giggle brought a smile to his face. Teyla picked Torren up so Sheppard could see him properly.

'I am sorry, John,' she apologised, bouncing her son on her hip. 'Jennifer said it was all right for us to come and see you. If I had known you were sleeping –'

'Don't worry. It's fine. I told her you could come.'

He tried to push up against his pillows, but once again failed. Teyla quickly deposited Torren on the edge of Ronon's bed and assisted him, helping him lean forward while she rearranged his pillows to prop him up into a sitting position. 'Is that better?'

'Much,' he told her, glad for the change of position. It made him feel less...vulnerable.

'I spoke with Carson earlier. He believes firing up the chair may have drained you of what energy was stored in your body from the cloning process and that has left you very weak. You should start to feel stronger soon...with rest and nourishment.'

'That's good to know.' And by nourishment she meant something crappy like soup and water for a start, when what he really wanted was a huge beef steak with a side of fries. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and Teyla gave him a sympathetic smile.

'Jennifer said she was organising some food for you. You must be famished.'

'You can say that again,' he grumbled. Earlier he hadn't been able to even face the thought of food, but right now he felt like he could chew his own arm off if he didn't get something soon. That had to be a good sign.

'You seem much calmer today,' Teyla told him, picking Torren up and placing him on the bed beside Sheppard now. The little boy immediately turned and wrapped his chubby arms around Sheppard's neck, nuzzling into his cheek.

Teyla tried to pull him away, but Sheppard gestured that it was fine. There was something comforting about the unconditional way Torren treated him, just exactly as he would have treated him had none of this horror ever happened.

'He has missed you,' Teyla said softly, her smile almost splitting her face in two.

'Missed you too, little guy,' Sheppard whispered, hugging the little boy to him as hard as he could.

'I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday...If you had not acted I believe the faction might had done far more damage to Atlantis than they did. Many could have died.'

She stroked her son's head and Sheppard knew exactly what she was thinking. She couldn't say it, but she'd been afraid she would lose Torren. The fact she hadn't made his burden just that tiniest bit easier to carry.

'I was just doing my job,' he insisted, and it was true...except he'd been relieved of duty at the time. But when had that kind of thing ever stopped him?

'You'll be glad to know we have the shield back up and running so no more bad guys can come a-calling,' a very smug-sounding Rodney announced as he arrived at the infirmary. He faltered a second, his smile slipping, then continued his journey to Sheppard's bedside. 'Wow. You look like crap!'

'Gee, thanks McKay. I can always count on you for a compliment,' Sheppard quipped. It was weird, but somehow McKay's treatment of him made him feel more normal, too. Perhaps it was the way he treated him no differently, just like Torren. Sympathy had never been a big deal to Sheppard. What he needed was for people to treat him as they always had.

As Torren began to play with Sheppard's saline feed, Teyla carefully plucked him away, extricating the tube from his chubby little fingers as she did so. 'We can all count on him for an honest opinion, that is certain,' Teyla agreed. 'Whether we want it or not.'

'You say that like it's a bad thing,' Rodney snorted, hopping up on the edge of Ronon's bed.

The big guy looked annoyed and nudged him off again. 'You're not looking so hot yourself, McKay,' he gruffed, straightening out his sheets.

'Well some of us have been up all night saving the city from potential attack,' he retorted, back to looking smug again.

'Some of us don't take so long about it,' Sheppard pointed out, making both Ronon and Teyla grin.

'Yes, yes, you saved the day again,' McKay admitted with a dismissive flap of his hand. 'But some of us don't have the advantage of being in two places at once.'

'Rodney!' Teyla gasped, but Sheppard didn't mind. Rodney was just being Rodney, and there was nothing wrong with that.

'You're just jealous that I get to start out in a new body...again,' he jibed.

'Well, of course I'm jealous about that!' McKay admitted. 'Mind you, if someone ever clones me a new body I hope they make it a few pounds lighter. He patted his stomach and looked wistful, as if considering whether it might be possible to do. 'Not everyone is blessed with your lightning metabolism.'

And that lightning metabolism was still crying out for food. Thankfully, Carson now appeared carrying a tray.

'Just thought I'd stop by with a little sustenance.'

'Oh, thank God!' McKay groaned, trying to take the tray. 'Soup...is that it?'

'Step away from the tray, Rodney. This isn't for you,' Carson warned, tugging it free from Rodney's grasping fingers. 'If you want food you know where the mess hall is.'

When the tray landed on his knees, Sheppard did his best to look grateful, but it really wasn't going to fill the cavernous void in his stomach.

Carson obviously picked up on his disappointment. 'You keep that down, Colonel and we can try something a little more substantial. Small steps just like last time, remember?'

'Small steps,' Sheppard nodded. He remembered the routine. It had only been a few days since he'd been through it with his last body.

'You look exhausted, John,' Teyla said, scrutinizing his face as he took his first mouthful of food. 'Rodney and I will let you rest now. We will visit again later.'

Rodney looked a little dumbfounded. 'We're leaving already? But I only just got here!'

With a slight roll of her eyes, Teyla took hold of his arm with her free hand and steered him away. 'Since you are so hungry and tired I thought you might welcome a meal and some sleep.'

'Oh, yes...true...' He let her tug him along a few steps, then turned to peer back over his shoulder. 'Nice job yesterday, Sheppard. It's good to have you back.'

Sheppard sipped in another spoonful of soup, feeling it slowly warm his throat. He was cold again, colder than he should have been on such a mild day. Keller had explained it was to do with his poor circulation in his previous body so he supposed it was the same thing this time. The soup was certainly helping.

'Chicken soup...cures all ills,' Carson quipped as he checked Sheppard's stats on the various devices he was hooked up to. 'Not really, of course, or I'd be out of a job.' He stopped tampering with the equipment and looked down at Sheppard. 'Take this slowly, John. You're a strong man...inside and out...but you can't fix everything overnight. I know you'll get there if you're patient with yourself.'

And at this moment, with the slight protection of the medication he actually felt like he could do this. There was a long road ahead of him, a road littered with pitfalls and setbacks, but he was still John Sheppard, still the same stubborn, hard-headed man he'd always been. He would get through this because he was too mulish not to. If he didn't, Tareb would have won. And in John Sheppard's version of Pegasus, the bad guys didn't win.

oooOOOooo

Ten weeks later, Sheppard found himself standing on his brother's doorstep at what had once been their family home. The look on David's face when he opened the door to him was priceless, but he welcomed him in and hurried him through to the guest reception room, ordering Marcie, his house maid, to bring them both some coffee.

The room was just as he remembered it, with one wall almost entirely made of windows that allowed the sun on this glorious spring morning to bathe them both in warmth and light. It felt so relaxing that the tension that had been knotting his shoulders all the way to the house instantly released as he picked a spot close to the windows to sit down and bask in the beauty of the view of the gardens.

'So, to what do I owe this honour?' Dave asked, sitting in the armchair opposite him.

'I had some leave...thought I should stop by,' Sheppard shrugged, keeping it casual. It wasn't the whole truth. He had a very specific reason for being there, especially today, but he couldn't share it with David no matter how much he wished he could.

'That's nice,' Dave said with a smile, sitting back to regard him shrewdly from his seat. 'So why the leave? Vacation or illness?'

'Vacation,' Sheppard lied, holding eye contact and conveying that his brother should drop the subject in that single exchange.

Dave clearly didn't believe it, but as was his way, he accepted that Sheppard didn't want to talk about it. 'Have you lost a few pounds?'

Sheppard looked down at himself, grateful that David hadn't seen him ten weeks ago. Putting weight on had proved harder than he'd thought. His body, new and still finding its levels, had suffered from an alarmingly fast metabolic rate that Dr Keller had eventually helped him bring under control. So now he was gaining, but he still had a way to go.

'Been out in the field...food supply was slow. '

Another lie to protect Dave from the truth...a truth it had taken him ten weeks of therapy to really come to terms with, and he still wasn't certain he had a complete handle on it. The nightmares came thick and fast every night, but at least during the day the flashback were much reduced and no longer as debilitating as they had been. Keller had been right; time was softening their impact. He'd worked through the lows and now the only way was up.

'Where exactly were you posted?' Dave quizzed, thanking Marcie as she arrived and deposited the requested refreshments on the coffee table between them.

Sheppard waited for her to leave, snatching up a cookie from the plate beside the coffee pot. 'You know I can't discuss that with you,' he reminded his brother.

'Oh, that's right...it's classified,' Dave nodded, tossing him a wry smile. 'Not sure who you think I would tell.'

'If you don't know, you can't tell anyone. Temptation removed,' Sheppard mumbled around a mouthful of crumbs.

Dave picked up the plate of cookies and offered it to him. 'Take another one...you look like you could use it.'

'Thanks.' He wasn't about to say no.

'So...' Dave said, watching him with a hint of concern as he ate. 'Where are you staying?'

'I booked a hotel room...at the Bedford.'

'Nice...but we have a dozen rooms here,' Dave reminded him, looking somewhat disappointed that Sheppard hadn't even thought to ask.

'I'm only in town for a couple of days...I didn't want to impose.'

'John...this is your home as much as mine. I know you agreed to let me move in, but dad left it to both of us, remember?'

Sheppard shrugged, sipping his coffee. It was good and strong, just how he liked it. Marcie hadn't lost her touch. 'I'm hardly ever here, it made sense for you to have the place.'

'And I told you that you would always be welcome.' Dave looked serious a moment, and let out a deep sigh. 'John...you're my brother, my only remaining close family. Did it occur to you I might actually enjoy spending some time with you?'

Sheppard dropped his gaze to his cup, watching the steam curling up from the surface of his coffee a moment while he thought up the best response to that. 'Sorry, Dave. I didn't think.'

Dave sighed in a way that reminded Sheppard of their father's constant disappointment in him. 'That's okay. I guess when you get as used to taking care of yourself as you are you forget to think about others.'

The snipe was uncalled for, but Sheppard let it slide. Dave's ego had always been fragile – a side effect of spending too much time in their father's overly critical company. He understood how that felt. His shoulders were broad enough to take his brother's guilt trip.

'Next time I promise I'll let you know I'm coming. We can hang out a while. This was all a bit...last minute. I didn't want to turn up expecting a place to stay without running it by you first.'

David's expression softened and he shook his head, huffing out a sad kind of laugh. 'You're my family, John. There's always a place here for you. I thought I made that clear after Dad's funeral.'

'Yeah...you did,' Sheppard conceded. 'I just didn't want to make any assumptions. As he finished his coffee his eyes drifted to the family portrait hanging on the wall behind his brother, painted so long ago in happier times when his family had meant everything to him and his memories of times spent together were only happy ones. 'There is another reason why I'm here today.'

David assumed a "here we go" kind of smirk. 'Yeah, and why's that?'

'I want to borrow the key for the mausoleum. Since I'm home and it's mom's birthday tomorrow I figured I could take her some flowers.'

Dave blinked at him as if he was having trouble deciphering what he'd said. 'Flowers for Mom?'

Sheppard looked back at him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 'Yeah.'

'But you haven't been there for years,' Dave reasoned. 'Why now?'

Sheppard shrugged as if it was no big deal. 'I'm here. It's her birthday. It just seemed like the right thing to do.'

Dave just stared at him a while longer, then rose from his chair and left the room without another word. When he returned a couple of minutes later, he carried a bunch of keys and was busy twisting one free.

Once he'd slid it off the ring he held it out toward John. It was big and chunky, not like the usual door key. There was no mistaking this was for the family mausoleum. Just as he was about to take it from him, Dave closed his fingers around it. 'Stay for dinner first.'

There was a kind of pleading in his tone that he would never express outright, but Sheppard heard it all the same. He smiled and nodded. 'Sure.'

With a grin, Dave relinquished the key. 'You can keep it,' he told him. 'I have another one. That way, next time you come I'll know you're here because you enjoy my company, not just to ask me for a favour.'

That said he headed off to let Marcie know they had a guest for dinner. Sheppard looked down at the hefty, ornate key in his hand, rolling it over and gauging its weight. Tomorrow he would be one step closer to that closure everyone told him he needed to find.

One step closer to feeling at peace with what had happened to the physical body his brother had grown up with.

oooOOOooo

Sheppard drove to the mausoleum early the next morning, as soon as he knew the cemetery gates would be unlocked. Originally he had planned to make this an unfussy affair, a trip he would make alone, but as soon as his team had got wind of his plans, they had all insisted on accompanying him. They rode along with him in silence now, taking in the sights and expensive housing lining the route.

There was no need for words. Nothing anyone could say would ever be adequate for an unenviable situation such as this.

As he turned into the decorative cast iron gateway Sheppard felt a cold shiver pass right through him. The last time he'd been here he'd stopped by after his father's funeral, having missed the ceremony itself thanks to a rogue replicator. He'd almost felt the disapproval oozing from the sarcophagus surrounding his father's casket as he'd said his private goodbye's before heading back to Atlantis on the Daedalus. His dad had always said he couldn't be counted on to show his face when it mattered, and that had simply proved his point.

Slowly following the driveway round the cemetery, the mausoleum loomed into view. It was bigger than he remembered and seemed to glow in the sunlight like a beacon guiding his way. Not that he could ever forget. He drew up outside the broad stone stairway and looked up at the iron door protecting his family's remains. The word 'SHEPPARD' was carved in huge serifed letters in the gable end above it, something that made the place look all the more ominous as he stared up at it and contemplated what he was about to do.

'Wow...that is impressive,' Rodney cooed from the back seat. 'I know you said your family had money but...just wow!'

Sheppard peered back at him where he sat beside Ronon in the rear of the car. His eyes were huge as he stared up ant the Romanesque facade of the building. Apparently the McKay family didn't reside in any such luxury after their deaths. Ronon, however, was fully focused on him, silent and intent on his role in this process.

'John, are you ready?' Teyla asked from the passenger seat.

He nodded and took the pot she had been keeping safe for him, opening the car door to climb out as the others did the same.

In the distance somewhere he could hear shovels hitting dirt, the gravediggers preparing for yet another life lost. You live, you die, and for others life goes on. Unless you were John Sheppard. He was in the unique position of having died but now having a second chance...or in his case an eighteenth chance. And he was okay with that. It had taken ten weeks of struggle and talking and tears and anger, but now he was finally beginning to accept what he had lost.

Acceptance...the final stage of bereavement, or so his psychologist had told him.

He walked up the stone steps, the others falling in step behind him at a respectful distance. Clutching the pot to his chest, he delved into his pocket, pulled out the key, and slid it into the lock, feeling the mechanism disengage with a satisfying clunk as he pushed the heavy door back and made his way inside, knowing the others would follow without invitation. They had insisted on being there; they wouldn't stop now.

Inside was as carefully crafted as the outside of the monument. Each of his families' bodies had its own stone sarcophagus surrounding the casket, each with their name and the dates of their birth and death carved in beautiful script at one end. His grandparents rested side by side on the left of the chamber, his uncle next to them with a space waiting for his wife, Sarah, who was as yet still alive and thriving in Vegas, having found a new zest for life once out from under the shadow of the Sheppard family name. Then next was his father's resting place; his mother's sarcophagus was situated beyond that, closest to the right hand wall.

'This one,' he said to Ronon, and the two of them crossed toward where his mother lay.

Behind him, he heard Rodney give an appreciative whistle. 'Wow, I've had apartments with less class than this place.'

'They probably cost less to build, too,' Sheppard assured him. There was no point in playing it down. When the Sheppard family did burials, they did them in style.

Ronon pulled out the crow bar he'd been concealing and began working on the heavy stone lid of his mother's sarcophagus.

'Be careful, Ronon,' Teyla called over to him. 'It would be a pity to break something so magnificent.'

The Satedan gave a grunt as he levered the heavy cover stone and shunted it across a little way, revealing an opening at the corner just big enough for them to see inside. Sheppard paused a moment, realising he hadn't been this close to his mother since the day of her burial. It made him hesitate as memories of that day rushed over him.

'You all right?' he heard Ronon ask, his voice breaking through the fugue that had descended on him.

'Yeah...fine...Could you guys give me a minute?'

Of course Teyla instantly responded, taking the bouquet Rodney had been carrying and setting it down on top of Sheppard's father's sarcophagus, then grabbing Rodney's arm before he could even think of questioning why and pulling him out of the door.

'We'll be right outside,' Ronon told him, patting his shoulder as he passed and left him to do what he had gone there to do.

A sigh shuddered through him as he looked down at the polished oak casket within the stone covering. He reached in and laid his hand on the surface, the wood cold beneath his palm. 'Hi, Mom,' he whispered, feeling the first sting of tears as he spoke. 'Long time, no see.'

Of course, all he heard was his own voice softly echoing back from the white walls, nothing more. His mother was long gone. All that lay here was her body; nothing of what had made her the special woman he'd loved so much remained there. They had buried an empty vessel, left behind when his mother's spirit had continued its journey into a world where bodies were a hindrance, not a necessity. And that was how he'd finally come to terms with the disposal of all the bodies they'd retrieved from Tareb's vessel. They, too, were only empty vessels and no longer a necessity. So he'd asked for them to be cremated and the ashes scattered in space.

All except one.

His original body.

The other cloned bodies had been made in Pegasus, and belonged to Pegasus. Now they would be forever part of it. But his original body...well, he'd always imagined it would be buried here with his family. Now, even though he was still very much alive, it still seemed like the right thing to do.

So he put the urn in the opening, setting it down in the corner at the head of his mother's casket. She had carried that body inside her for nine months – it had at one time been part of her. Now it was back with her once again.

'Thanks for the loan, Mom,' he said quietly, resting his hand on the casket again. He looked back over his shoulder at where his father's remains lay. 'You too, Dad. Sorry I didn't look after it, but...well, you know me...always getting into scrapes.'

A tear slid down his cheek and dripped onto the wood, marring the smooth surface. He sniffed more tears back, trying to keep them in. 'Anyway, I don't want you thinking I wasn't grateful, 'cos I was. And it was a good body...got me a long way in life. But then I ran across this guy...' He stopped. They didn't need to hear that. 'Anyway, the important thing is I've got a whole new body now, so I wanted to bring this one back to you. This is where it belongs.'

That said, he sat down on the stone plinth beneath his mother's sarcophagus and dropped his head into his hands, letting his emotions surface and consume him. His psychologist had told him it was good for him to let things out, but it wasn't something he found easy to do. Yet here, in this place invested with so much sadness and regret, he found his outlet. And it came pouring out of him in a way he hadn't ever thought possible.

He didn't know how long he sat there like that, but when the tears eventually dried up he realised his soul felt so much lighter that he could actually see a way forward now. This had been the closure he so badly needed. It really felt like the horrors of his incarceration were finally behind him and he could move beyond it all.

Scrubbing his eyes dry with his sleeve, he headed to the door and called for Ronon to come help him put the lid back in place. Soon his whole team were back in there with him, Rodney and Teyla watching as Ronon helped Sheppard slot the lid back into its correct position.

Teyla had collected the bouquet from where she'd left it atop his father's sarcophagus and now passed it to him. She was crying, and she slipped her arms around his neck to hug him. He realised then, as he saw Rodney rub at his reddened eyes and Ronon cleared his throat to cover his welling emotions, that this had been almost as hard on them as it had on him. But from now on things could only get better, he was certain of that.

For all of them.

Teyla stepped back, took hold of his free hand, and dipped her head, waiting for him to touch his forehead to hers.

'Are you ready to return to Atlantis now?' she asked, sadness still marring her pretty features.

'No place I'd rather be,' he told her with a grin.

So he let go of her hand, set the flowers gently onto the lid they had so carefully replaced and said, 'Happy birthday, Mom.'

oooOOOooo

They emerged back out into brilliant sunlight, the air crisp and clean compared to that of the musky mausoleum. Sheppard sucked in a deep lungful of it, allowing it to cleanse him and take away some of the sadness as he expelled it again in a long sigh.

As he locked the mausoleum door and pulled out the car keys, Rodney piped up, 'I'll drive!' and since he was probably in a better state for it than he was, Sheppard tossed him the keys.

'I hope you drive better than you fly a puddle jumper.'

'Much better,' Rodney promised him. 'But you remember the way back to the hotel, right? I might need directions.'

Sheppard raised his eyebrows, as the others shook their heads and climbed into the back seat of the car. And McKay said he was always getting lost.

'What?' Rodney complained. 'I didn't pay attention on the way here. My mind was on other things.'

'It always is, Rodney,' Sheppard pointed out, dropping into the passenger seat and relaxing with a sigh.

As they left the cemetery he felt like a huge responsibility had been lifted off him. His former body, the one gifted to him by his parents, was exactly where it should be, lying in the embrace of his family. Now, in his new, Pegasus-created body he felt Atlantis was his real home more than ever. He couldn't wait to get back there.

'So...how're we gonna scuff those shoes of yours?' Rodney asked as they pulled out of the cemetery gates and back out onto the highway.

It took a few moments for Sheppard to understand what he meant, then he recalled the discussion around the conference table back at Atlantis, the one when he'd still been in the body previous to this one. He smirked. 'If I could have hung on in the last one, I would have already started. Two bullet holes...that was a pretty good scuff.'

'I could shoot you,' Ronon offered from the back seat. 'Somewhere that won't kill you,' he added quickly.

Sheppard huffed a laugh out, shaking his head. 'Thanks for the offer, buddy, but I figure there are already several bullets out there in the Pegasus Galaxy with my name on them. It's only a matter of time.'

'And there are still plenty of undiscovered Ancient technologies out there, I bet,' McKay added with a lop-sided grin. 'Activating those is bound to blow up in our faces from time to time...hypothetically speaking...or not.'

'Or Teyla could give you a session in the gym with her Bantos Rods,' Ronon suggested, his grin pure wicked joy as Sheppard peered back over his shoulder at him.

Teyla though, merely rolled her eyes. 'I wish to play no part in this "scuffing the shoes",' she told them. 'Although, since Torren has grown some teeth, he does take great pleasure in biting people. You could babysit him for me...that would surely add to your scar collection.'

'You too, Teyla?' Sheppard choked out, feigning hurt while unable to hide his smile.

'You know what...we could call Todd. Get him to give you back your feeding scar.'

Everyone fell silent and stared at McKay. He glanced Sheppard's way, then checked his rearview mirror to judge Teyla and Ronon's reactions. 'Too much?' he asked sheepishly.

'You do seem to be taking just a little bit too much pleasure in all this,' Sheppard told him, but he couldn't help finding it funny all the same.

The rest of the drive back to the hotel was dotted with light-hearted suggestions for his possible appropriation of damage harking back to former mishaps. Ronon and McKay took the lead, coming up with ever more comical and sadistic ways they could rough up his shiny new body, while Teyla did her best to act disapproving. But, of course the conversation never touched on anything Tareb had done to him. Even McKay wasn't tactless enough to make light of that.

Sheppard just left them to it, listening to the growing competition to devise ever more insane and unlikely ways in which he could do himself harm. Ten weeks ago he wouldn't have been able to sit through this. He'd come a long way, and much as he hated to admit it, he knew he would never have done it alone. Sometimes, letting people in really was the right thing to do.

A two week trip aboard the Daedalus awaited them all, another two weeks for him to get back in shape and return fighting fit to resume his rightful place as military commander of Atlantis. Okay, so maybe that was a little optimistic, but he was getting there, one small step at a time. Tareb might have shaken him, might even have brought him close to his limits of endurance, but he was still here. He was John Sheppard through and through, and he could accept that now that all the others were finally dealt with. And so what if the scars he carried now where deep in his psyche and not on his skin for others to see? They still told the story of this, the latest leg of his journey through life, a life he now fully understood was as much his as it ever had been.

The Pegasus Galaxy had taken its very best shot at him.

And still he remained unbroken.

THE END

A/N: And it's a wrap. I hope you enjoyed the story. Once again, thank you to Sterenyk Strey and lizlou57 for their beta on this story and keeping me motivated and relatively error-free. Anything that was wrong was all my fault! If you have read this far, please take the time to let me know what you think. Thanks to everyone who followed the story. Your comments make the time and effort put into writing stories worthwhile. :)