I watched as Beckett read over the test results. He looked disgruntled, but then again, that was what McKay and I had jokingly referred to as his normal resting state. Although, maybe this was on the higher end of disgruntled…possibly edging into annoyed.

"You can go," he finally said, looking at me warily, and tucking the chart against his chest.

I was trying to keep from swinging my legs, sitting patiently on the gurney. "Good," I said with forced enthusiasm.

I'd figured that would be the outcome, or maybe I should amend it to; I was relieved that was the outcome. It'd been hard feigning sleep last night, especially when it was what everyone was trying to get me to do.

He was staring at me closely, trying to find any chip in my healthy veneer. I must have passed inspection because he pulled back, and sighed, "Anything else troubles you, you know where to find me."

"I do," I agreed solemnly. "Thanks." I tried to put on a brave face, but it was hard, because the death for Beckett wasn't going to be a kind one. I only hoped when the moment came, it was quick. I smiled weakly, and left before I changed my mind and grabbed him in a bear hug, just because he was still here, and still alive. Besides, I had another Doctor to see, and I hoped he'd have the answers I needed.

I left the infirmary, and headed for McKay's lab. I prayed he was there, because I wanted to minimize the number of personnel I ran into. It was disconcerting to look at friends, and acquaintances, and see their demise painted like a picture over their currently living bodies.

I started playing a guessing game of the official cause of death. Some of them were easy, and what worried me a lot, was that a great number of them were obviously killed by the Wraith. The telltale withered features, and gory handprint carved into flesh. It made me wonder if something catastrophic was in our immediate future.

I paused outside McKay's door. Of all the death's I'd seen, his bothered me the most. It wasn't just because he was my friend; there was that, but the fact that someone had killed him…or something. And that meant I hadn't been there to prevent it, or I'd been unable to. I wondered if seeing it might help me prevent it, but what if I hadn't been able to save McKay because I was already dead? Suddenly I had an intense urge to find a mirror.

The door opened, and Rodney walked out, all but mowing me down in the process because I'd been moments away from walking in. He startled, but recovered, and stepped to the side, letting the door slide shut. "Good, I was looking for you," he said.

"Tell me you found something?" I asked.

Did you know that blood is one of the most neutral compounds in nature? Funny what you remember, and when. The mind has triggers, and a picture, sound, or smell can bring it to the front. And watching McKay's blood empty from his body brought a lot of weird memories to mind, but I was using it to my advantage. I was looking, and memorizing everything about it, from the angle his body was on the floor, to the area on his back where the damage must have been done. I even tried to note every detail of his uniform. He was missing his vest…

"I found something," said McKay. "But unless you're interested in the funeral practices of the Ancients, I think you're out of luck."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "They had funeral practices?"

He looked at me like I was the slow kid in school. "Until they ascended. What did you think they did? Toss 'em over the balcony and wave so long, and sing Fifteen Men on a Dead Man's Chest?"

"Oh ho ho," I mumbled. So I didn't stop to think about dead Ancients, I couldn't be the only one around here guilty of the fact.

"We could always talk to Carson…"

"No!" I protested quickly. "Not yet, at any rate."

He grinned. "You could use Zelenka's bowling ball, and start working as a psychic." I could see it was taking all his self-control to keep from outright laughter. "Tell them you see their death," he waved his hands and lowered his voice, continuing spookily, "Promise them you can help them avoid the end. You'd make a killing!"

"You're sick," I said, groaning at the bad pun.

He put on a wounded expression. "It worked for John Edwards, and he couldn't even predict death. He's just a glorified mouth piece for all the little ghosts."

"You don't believe in that crap," I said.

He shrugged. "No, but I thought it might make you feel better."

"What part?" I asked incredulously. "The telling people how they're going to die, or the charging them for it?"

"You know what you're problem is, Major?" McKay asked. Somehow I gathered he was going to tell me. "You lack imagination."

"No, what I lack is…"

I never got to finish my beautiful insult, because just then McKay's comm beeped. He was staring at me, all but saying bring it on, but I didn't. The comm beeped again. "You going to answer that?" I pointed to his ear pleasantly. Sometimes saying nothing was better than saying something.

He kept his eyes fixed on me, and calmly tapped the button. "What?" he snapped.

"Rodney, is John with you?"

I could hear her, but I didn't have my radio on me. McKay gave me a questioning look, and I nodded.

He answered, "He's right here."

"Good," said Elizabeth. "I need you two in the briefing room immediately, we've got a situation."

McKay was still looking to me, and I shrugged my shoulders. I was getting used to seeing the dead visages of people. I could do my job, for now. He tapped it again, "We'll be right there."

What Elizabeth had to say wasn't good. One of our allies was under attack, but oddly enough, it wasn't from the Wraith. The Thessians had messaged an hour ago, at least one of them had. Great ships had arrived, and were killing everyone.

She played back the tape, and behind the panicked shout for help, we could hear a steady thrum of power. I didn't like what I was hearing. "Did we try to reconnect?" I asked.

She nodded, and turned off the audio playback. "The gate established, but there was no response."

"Then what's the point of going?" asked McKay. "If they're all dead, we'll only be risking our own lives."

Teyla had been quiet, listening to the tape, but I'd seen her upset before. She'd introduced us to the Thessians, and had friends among the people. I knew she'd have something to say to that, and I wasn't disappointed.

"There may be survivors," she said. "And should we not find out if there is another enemy capable of wiping out an entire village?"

I frowned at the thought, but also in part because of Teyla. I didn't see her death. When I looked at her, I saw only her. What did that mean? I wasn't sure it was a good thing, or a bad thing.

Ford broke in, "I agree with Teyla. It sounded like whatever attacked them had a lot of power. Makes me nervous."

Truth be told, it made me nervous too. But for once I was with McKay. I had a bad feeling about this. I caught myself staring at Ford, and he noticed. It was distracting, seeing your second with his face blown off.

"Major, I want you to take a Jumper, that way you can go without being seen. Find out what happened there, and take Beckett," she ordered. "In case there are survivors."

I wanted to argue, and it's not like she isn't used to it coming from me, but on the other hand, I couldn't find a good reason to not go other than my gut telling me to stay the hell away from that planet.

"You got it," I said. What else could I do? Everyone was clambering out of their chairs, and heading off to prepare. Before I could leave, Elizabeth called, "John, you have a minute?"

I paused, half out of my chair. She looked bothered. I sat down, asking, "What is it?"

"I didn't want the others to know," she started, coming over to the table next to my chair. She leaned against the edge, and she folded her arms. She always does that when she's nervous. "I had Peter send a MALP through."

I narrowed my eyes, because I didn't like that she'd withheld information from my team. "And…" I said, knowing that I probably wouldn't like the reason.

She was shaking her head, and I could tell she wasn't just nervous; she was downright disturbed. "No one's alive," she said softly.

"You sure?" I asked, startled.

"Rodney rigged a MALP with a life signs detector a few weeks ago. There was nothing, John. Over five hundred people, and not a single life sign."

I swallowed. No wonder she was disturbed. "Why bring Beckett then?"

"To look at the bodies," she explained grimly. "We need to know what did this."

Great. I'd get to see more bodies, and this time, they'd be dead for real. I didn't know what to say, so I stood up, and left. She didn't call after me, or try to say something lame like it'd be okay. We both knew it wouldn't. This wasn't the Wraith, and that meant there was another enemy out there intent on slaughtering innocents. Some days were definitely worse than others…

The trip to the Thessian village was uneventful. I did a flyby, and all we saw was a lot of smoke. The display confirmed what Elizabeth had told me. There wasn't a single survivor.

McKay was sitting next to me, and he grimaced at the destruction. "Whoever they are, they're thorough," he observed.

I didn't say anything. I was beginning to notice things, and I could already feel the nausea climbing inside. I landed the Jumper, and we left the rear hatch with weapons ready, though I figured they were long gone. They'd done what they came to do.

As we left the ship, I saw the streamers. I probably went paler than a maggot's underbelly. The field was just as I remembered- decorations, the musicians stage, and the bodies.

We walked numbly through the carnage. When my foot crunched, I looked down. I'd stepped on a burnt blue ribbon, and looking down, saw the beautiful blonde haired girl. I followed the path to her middle, and saw the thin black line that betrayed the cause of death.

How can there be words for what we saw on that planet? I stood there, next to that little girl's body, and I wanted to scream at the injustice of what had happened. I wanted to shout down the heavens, because damn if I didn't know they were up there, watching, and they could have stopped this.

I fell to my knees, and my mind noted that the ground was dry. It wasn't soft like it should be, drenched by death as it was, and it almost seemed wrong that the bodies hadn't cried out with the criminal act by spilling their blood. It was wrong. I pulled my knife…

"Major!"

I looked up from where I was, kneeling over the little girl, and then looked down, surprised to see my knife poised to plunge into her little body. I dropped it, and fell back trying to get away.

And then McKay was there, his hands grabbing my armpits, and hauling me to my feet. "What the hell was that?" he asked angrily.

"There should be blood," I said stupidly. "Why isn't there any blood?" I kept staring at her body. I knew why there wasn't blood, logically, but it was wrong…it was all wrong. The sky should be crying tears of blood.

"Carson!"

I heard McKay holler. I looked at Rodney, tearing my eyes away from the body. "She's already dead, McKay," I explained. "Beckett can't help her."

He took my arm, and started leading me away. I let him.

"It's not for her," he said gently.

I didn't know McKay had that tone of voice. It was always rapid, or sarcastic, or focused…but gentle? I'd never really heard gentle before.

I guess I must have slipped into some kind of weird state of mind, because I was floating again. I wanted to protest; I know I hadn't fallen asleep. I'd been walking…with McKay.

But if I was here, I had a score to settle. "Why?" I asked, knowing they were listening.

"We did not do this," the voice answered.

"That's not what I meant," I shouted, or at least I was trying to shout. This not having a body thing took some getting used to. If you meant to shout, but had no mouth to yell with, was it still shouting?

"You could've stopped this!" I finished my original train of thought.

"And then what, Major Sheppard?" The voice sounded irritated. "Tell us, where should we draw the line? A civilization first, with good intentions…and then maybe a city, or a village, but then that child really deserves to live, and that animal, and the flower, and even that sun."

I was too angry to listen. "It's not like that, and you know it!"

"But it is!" the voice exclaimed. "And it's even worse than that. The civilization spared may grow up to kill all its neighbors. The child saved could be your Adolf Hitler. The flower spared; the poison that kills another."

"You feel that because we have the power, we should. It is the exact opposite, because we have the power, we must not!"

I wanted to argue. I wanted to find a rebuttal that would find a flaw in their argument, but I couldn't. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. I had a moment or horrible realization that they were right, and wondered at the price of Ascension. "How can you live like this?" I finally asked.

"We watch," it answered. "We watch, and by doing so, we give them the only thing we can."

"And what's that?" I snarled. The thought of these ascended Ancients sitting by and watching horrific acts, and being able to resist intervening struck me as very cold and detached.

"Recognition and remembrance, Major. They have lived, and they have died, and we noticed. In the end, it is all anyone can ask for, and more than most ever get."

I was going to say something, but I found myself falling, back into my body.

"Major," called Beckett, flashing his penlight into my eye.

I blinked. I was here. I looked around trying to figure out where here was. The Jumper. I was sitting on the bench in the back of the Jumper, and we were flying.

"What happened?" I asked, my mind not quite with it yet.

He frowned at me. "I was hoping you could tell me," he said. "You faded on us back there."

I think the time had arrived to fess up, but now that I found myself at that point, I wasn't sure how to do it. With McKay, it'd been easy. Always blunt with him, made life simple, but with Beckett…I was a little worried he'd think I'd gone too far off the path of sanity.

"Since I got back from Proculus," I started hesitantly, "I've been seeing things."

"What kind of things?"

That's the kicker, isn't it? The kind of things…

"Dead people," I said, going with the theory of better to get it over with.

He sat back, and clicked off his penlight. "Dead people? Like wee ghosts?"

"Not wee ghosts," I said, giving him a dirty look. "More like you, and McKay, and everyone else I see." I left out the part about Teyla because I still wasn't sure if that was an aberration of something else.

"You're seeing us? Dead?" Now Beckett looked flummoxed.

I nodded. I could see him contemplating asking, and I decided to not give him a chance. "Forget about it, not going to do it," I told him.

The jolt of the Jumper landing signaled we'd arrived back home. The hatch to the front opened, and the three came piling out, all giving me a nervous look. Had McKay spilled the beans? I gave him a sharp look, and his guilty face spoke volumes.

"McKay…" I warned. Why bother, though. Beckett knew, and once Beckett knew, everyone knew. I remembered how he started chatting to me when I'd found him by the chair in Antarctica. He'd started spouting off about the drone, and the Stargate, and then he'd asked if I had clearance.

Speaking of Beckett, I looked back to him, and said, "The infirmary."

He nodded, smiling affably. "Without a doubt," he said.

Somehow I doubted there was anything in there that could help me.

"I've been thinking," started McKay. "This all began after you returned to Proculus, right?"

"Yes," I agreed. I could definitely testify to the fact that I had never seen dead people before that. "But like I said, I don't remember what happened…"

"Exactly!" McKay crowed. "It was her."

There he was on his anti-Chaya kick. For whatever reason, McKay had something against her from the moment they'd met. True, she'd deceived everyone, but she had her reasons. The whole debacle was uncomfortable. She'd admitted to only coming to Atlantis because of me. An Ancient had a crush on me. That was kind of disturbing, almost as much as seeing dead people…

"Look, Major," McKay began. "I know you had a thing for her -"

"I don't have a thing for her!" I objected, interrupting him.

He rolled his eyes, and continued, "As I said, you had a thing for her," he looked at me, daring me to deny it again. I ground my teeth. "And you went back, now you see dead people, so maybe she gave you a little Ancient present."

Now that was ridiculous. "You telling me you think she did this intentionally?" I asked. "Like a Happy Birthday, or something?"

"More like a 'remember me' something," he supplied.

I really tried to remember, but it was blank. "I got nothing," I admitted.

Beckett had escorted me to the infirmary, and McKay had tagged along. Ford and Teyla had gone off to debrief Weir. Beckett had then proceeded to run every test he could think of, before leaving to oversee the results coming in from the lab.

And that'd left McKay trying to brainstorm an answer. The problem was, I wasn't liking the answer. I almost wished Beckett would find something in those tests, but I knew he wouldn't.

"What now?" I asked, looking for McKay to help me here. I wasn't sure of what to do. I wanted it gone, whatever it was.

McKay stood up from the chair he'd settled in earlier. "We go back," he said.

The trip back to Proculus was quick. McKay had convinced Elizabeth, and I never asked what he told her. Beckett had agreed to me going, as long as McKay did the flying.

We landed, and started towards the temple, not bothering to go in to the town. I hoped she was still there. Maybe we'd chased her back into glowy exile for another thousand years. God, I sure hoped not.

It was just as long of a walk as last time, and by the time we arrived; McKay had chalked another reason to be pissed at her. He'd had to do the hike again, and he hadn't liked it the first time.

"Oh, Athar," McKay called out sweetly. "Honey, he's home!"

I slugged McKay on the shoulder. "Knock it off," I hissed.

"Chaya!" I called. "It's John. I need to talk to you!" Boy did I hope she hadn't left.

We walked into the alcove where we'd first been introduced, and she was there, still wearing the same beautiful white dress. I couldn't help the soft smile at seeing her again. "Hi," I said.

She smiled back. "Hello, John."

"Please," McKay drawled. "We're here to save your mind, not your love life."

I threw a dirty look at McKay, but otherwise ignored him. "Could we talk?" I asked her.

She gave him an irritated look as well, but then nodded to me, and gestured to follow her through the inner sanctum. I looked back at McKay just long enough to tell him, "Stay here."

He looked dutifully insulted that I wouldn't let him come, but I saw him settle on a bench.

"Chaya," I began, once she'd led us to a wooden bench. "When I was here, last…" I stumbled about trying to explain without accusing her. "I don't…remember what happened."

She sighed, and took my hand in hers. "I know," she said.

"You know," I repeated. I hadn't expected that. "Why don't I remember?" I asked.

She looked sad. "I tried to share with you, but I didn't realize how…different you were, than the others."

I realized she was fumbling as much as I was. It surprised me. "Share?"

"It's when two of my people touch each other, in a way that you can't understand," she said. "I tried to show you, but something went wrong."

"Wrong," I said. Wrong was definitely how I would explain recent events.

I could see she did understand. She was one of them, after all, exiled or not.

"I was waiting for you, to try and fix it." She reached out, and touched my head, above my right eye.

I felt warmth spread from her fingers; I placed a hand over hers, and leaned in. I was so tired, and it was peaceful. "Rest, John," she whispered, and guided me gently till I was lying on the bench. The deaths flew through my mind, worlds, and flowers – petals fluttering in the wind. And I slept.

She was gone when I woke up. I staggered out, and found McKay snoring on his bench. I nudged him roughly, and he spluttered awake, "What?"

"She's gone," I said. I turned in a circle, looking for any sign, but there wasn't anyone here.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, and looked up at me blearily. "Did she fix you?"

Funny, I hadn't even thought of that. I looked at McKay, and noticed that all I saw was him; no more pools of blood spreading exponentially in a circle underneath him. "I think so," I said.

"Good," he grunted. "Let's go."

I took a final look around. I supposed she was gone, probably for good this time. "Guess so," I replied.

We made the trip back, subdued. McKay didn't even complain about the distance. I guess he understood my need for quiet. She'd meant something to me, but I couldn't ever be certain that I'd done it all willingly.

He flew us home, and I let Beckett poke and prod a final time. He certified me sane, and sent me on my way. It was comforting to not see everyone's death, but also disconcerting after you've already seen it. I didn't want to go eat, because I'd seen the lady serving lunch bleeding all over my macaroni and cheese.

I decided to hide in my quarters for a while. I needed to try and figure out how to go back to normal after that. And some day, soon hopefully, I wanted to figure out why I hadn't seen anything with Teyla. My hiding didn't last long, because McKay came knocking hours later. I answered the door, and watched him walk in.

"I was trying to sleep," I said. I didn't really want to talk. I didn't want to sleep, either, but he didn't need to know that.

"Liar," he said. "I need to know something."

I didn't like the look on his face. It was the same one he had when he'd been carrying on about dead man walking when the Ancient personal shield had refused to come off.

"I'm not going to tell you," I told him. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to know how he died.

"Why not?" he said quickly. "Come on, it took me a while to get up the nerve to even ask."

I felt for him, I really did. Death hounded everybody. From the moment we were born, our clocks were winding down. "Nobody should know how they're going to die, McKay."

I thought he was going to keep arguing, but he finally nodded, and he slapped a closed fist into his other open palm. "Maybe so," he said. He turned to leave.

"McKay," I called, not wanting him to leave on that depressing note. I saw him turn to look at me expectantly. I smiled. "You were sitting on the toilet."

His jaw dropped, and I saw the flash of disbelief that quickly turned into an irritated, but appreciative smile back at me. "Liar," he said again, softly, and then he walked out.

Six weeks later…

I was lying on the ground, winded, and sore. Another mission had gone horribly wrong. We'd been searching some local caves for clues to the location for a ZPM. In the time since Chaya had fixed whatever she'd caused, I'd watched Elizabeth die from old age, showing me the withering old face I'd seen before.

I'd been unsettled after that, feeling like something was going to happen. We'd gotten separated from Ford and Teyla when the ground shook violently. We'd hardly had time to duck for cover, before heavy rock rained down upon us.

Now, I was lying here struggling to breathe, and McKay was standing over me. I saw him strip off his vest, and try desperately to stop the bleeding on my head. I felt the salty blood trickle on the corner of my mouth, and tried to wipe it away.

"Call…for…help," I said, struggling to breathe.

Days later, I could never remember what triggered it, but the memory of McKay's broken and bleeding body slammed into me with more force than the rocks had only moments before.

I stared at him, leaning over me, and the vest was gone, just like I'd seen. I opened my mouth to tell him to move, when the ground starting twisting and yawing with increased intensity. I grabbed McKay, and pulled with everything I had left in me, as the roof came tumbling down.

I was momentarily stunned, and the unmoving body weighed heavily on my sore chest. I tried to move, but McKay was crushing me. "McKay…" I gasped, trying to push, and being ineffective.

He groaned, and it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard in my life. He pushed himself up, stumbling a few times, before rolling to my side. He looked at me, shocked, and we both looked back. There, where we'd been only moments before was a large and long stalactite. It would have punctured his back if I hadn't yanked him when I did…and he would've bled out, just as I'd seen.

He swallowed, and I could see the shock on his face. "How did you…"

I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. He connected the dots, and gripped my shoulder, saying everything that was ever needed, "Thanks."

THE END

AN: It was intentional leaving out the reason for Teyla, and why things went so wrong with John and Chaya sharing. Yes, I know, but I wanted to leave you all with questions. It might be something I go back to in another fic, and probably a lot of you will reason through it and know why! So, just know, it was done on purpose!

Lastly, thank you Shelly for requesting this fic. It's been a wonderful fic to write!