The next few days were what Sheppard could only describe as purgatory. When he'd come round from surgery, he'd found himself in a side room in the infirmary with a strapping around his chest that seriously restricted his movement and made breathing feel like a completely unnatural pressure. He'd also acquired a chest tube, which Carson insisted had to stay in place for a further two days until they could be sure all the air had drained from his chest cavity, and his lung had stabilised and would continue to hold its own.

Carson kept him on the good stuff most of the time, and although he didn't listen much to his rambling, he did pick up something about broken ribs, a broken leg and a punctured lung and sucking chest wound, along with the obvious lacerations bruises and inflamed organs from the sonic weapons. He felt terrible, and really didn't care what was wrong with him; he just longed for the day when he would wake up and feel better.

Sleep was his best friend during that time – that and his IV line – the moments of unconsciousness relieving both his exhaustion and the tedium. He knew he was probably the expedition's worst patient bar Ronon...and perhaps McKay for completely different reasons...but he couldn't imagine anyone not being bored rigid in the confines of an infirmary bay.

Often when he woke, one of his team would be there at his bedside; Ronon catching up on rest himself, Rodney working frenetically on his laptop as always, and Teyla, who alternated between sleeping and holding his hand with a reassuring smile. Sometimes they spoke to him for short periods, but he felt so doped up he couldn't do much more than smile in the right places for a few minutes then fall asleep again. They kept him up to date on what was happening in the rest of the city, and one time Rodney regaled him with the tale of how Ronon had sat on Sarayah in the jumper on the way back to Atlantis until Carson could give her enough sedative to knock her out. Then having realised he'd picked a bad topic, he'd bombarded him with statistics from one of his latest projects until the sheer boredom of it had lulled him back to sleep. Each time they spoke with him he felt they were waiting for him to say something, something specific that they constantly skirted around, but he didn't have the energy to make conversation or work out what it was.

On the fourth day, when Carson woke him by shoving a thermometer in his ear during one of his routine checks, he found Elizabeth smiling down on him, too.

'Oh, so you do wake up sometimes,' she smirked, letting Carson complete his checks before pulling up a seat.

'Only when some inconsiderate medic tries to perforate my eardrum,' he grumbled. When the doctor's concerned blue eyes flashed up to his, he gave him a lop-sided smile. 'Just kidding.'

'I should think so to, you ungrateful bugger!' Carson joked. 'You have no idea how much work I've had to put in to sorting you out this time. You're a full time job, lad.'

'Sorry, Doc. I'll try not to get into so much trouble next time,' he promised.

'I'll believe that when I see it,' he snorted, squeezing Elizabeth's shoulder as he passed her to give them some space.

'So, how're you feeling? Better than you look, I hope,' she asked, frowning as her eyes wandered over his face, which he had to admit felt like it had been used as a football.

He felt a welling of anger that she was so concerned now when it was all over, despite the fact she hadn't listened when he needed her to, but was too tired to go down that route right now. 'I'm a little sore, but...you know...' he mumbled, keeping it short.

'Yeah, I can imagine,' she replied, making herself comfortable beside him. Clearly his curtness hadn't deterred her desire to talk to him. 'Look, I'm glad you're awake because there are quite a few of us feeling pretty bad about what happened and...well...I for one wanted to apologise for what you've been put through these past few days.'

Sheppard knew he was still on meds, but he wasn't sure if it was them confusing him or not. She'd said a number of them felt bad. Elizabeth's guilt he understood, but he had no idea why anyone else should be worried. He quirked an eyebrow by way of asking what she meant.

'Well, for a start, I pretty much blackmailed you into going to that celebration on Medulsa to cement relations between us and them –'

He gave a slight shrug. 'You had your rea –'

'Let me finish,' she insisted. 'I had no right to go behind your back and set up your return to Medulsa. I'm sure I could have used my skills to broker things without you having to go there. I guess I really didn't take the threat from Sarayah, or the effect she might have had on you, seriously enough.'

Sheppard chewed his lip, not really knowing what to say. It had taken two years and his near death to open people's eyes to how unnerving his experience with Sarayah had been, but then, he figured since he was the master of masking his emotions, he was just as much to blame as they were for leaving the matter unresolved. He'd felt like he deserved an apology for the flippant way they'd treated him following his last ordeal, but now he was getting it, it seemed he wasn't very good at dealing with other people's remorse. Old habits meant he found himself trying to put her at ease, taking the pain on board himself as usual.

'Okay...much as I am pissed about the whole leaving me out of the loop thing when you sent Lorne to Medulsa, you did try to make sure Sarayah wouldn't be there for the celebration, so you couldn't have known this would happen.'

'Yeah, well, I've been telling myself that for the past few days, but I'm not really buying it. I forced the situation –'

'Sarayah wanted to get back at me, Elizabeth. If it hadn't happened now, she would have found another way to reach me.'

She smiled weakly, and nodded. 'Perhaps you're right. But I still should have handled things better between us. I thought you were being stubborn about Medulsa, but I realise it was much more than that now. Sometimes you're so good at internalising your feelings I don't always realise how much things bother you.'

He knew that was the truth. He'd become adept at covering his hurt feelings since the incident with Senator Laurel, something this experience had rather painfully dragged to the forefront of his memory again. 'What does everyone else feel bad about?' he asked, changing the subject.

'Rodney feels bad that he turned down your invitation to join him at the celebration, and that he couldn't come up with a way to locate you sooner.'

'We'll I somehow doubt things would have turned out any differently if he'd been there,' Sheppard pointed out. 'Ronon and Teyla were there with me, and I still got kidnapped.'

'Which is something they feel bad about,' she added.

'But I left the village alone to go to the jumper. I ordered them to stay at the celebration. And even if they had come with me, they would probably have been shot. How can they feel bad?'

'Because they think they should have insisted you didn't leave alone. They feel they allowed the sense of celebration to dull their, how did they put it, "natural perceptiveness".'

'That's ridiculous,' he muttered, trying to push himself into a more comfortable position. 'None of us were expecting trouble. With Sarayah off-world, there was no reason to suspect anything bad would happen.'

Elizabeth stood and propped him up with several rearranged pillows. 'Well, they can't help how they feel. I'm sure seeing you here and recovering will help them put those feelings to rest...eventually.'

'Now that I'll be glad to help them with. Don't suppose Carson has given you any clues about how long I'm likely to be here?'

'It takes as long as it takes, John. You were pretty beat up. Don't expect too much too soon. Okay?'

With a sigh, he nodded his compliance. 'Okay.'

'And if I ever try to take shortcuts with decision making again, remind me of this.'

'Don't worry, I will,' he assured her.

He fell silent for a moment, but one unasked question still hung between them. 'So, what's gonna happen to Sarayah now?'

Elizabeth face fell, the sparkle leaving her eyes. 'I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that just yet,' she sighed, rubbing at her furrowed brow.

'Why?' he demanded, his fairly relaxed mood suddenly changing to gut knotting tension. Was she leaving him out of the loop again?

'I tried every avenue of persuasion I could think of to convince the Medulsans to let us handle Sarayah our way, but because they know she's betrayed the secret of their Wraith defence system to the Atrascans, they're insistent they should be allowed to deal with her under Medulsan law...and, to be honest, I can see their point. She is one of their kind. We protested enough when they treated you according to their laws two years ago. Telling them they have no right to take her back to their world would be kind of hypocritical.'

Sheppard didn't know how to feel about that news. Part of him was glad because it meant there would never be any cause for him to deal with her again, but another part saw the sense in having her held somewhere he considered safe. Still, since the decision was out of their hands, he accepted Elizabeth's point. 'Sooner she's gone the better. What's her punishment?'

'Apparently, Alishia plans to put her into service for the village, under strict control of course. She'll be made to repay the Medulsans for her betrayal through a kind of community service, and every night she'll be locked up and under watch. I doubt she'll be able to take a bathroom break without asking permission from now on.'

It seemed a fitting sentence for a control-freak like her. Ironic that the woman who needed to take charge of others would now be made to serve them. 'She's not going to like that.'

Elizabeth couldn't suppress a smirk. 'I think that's the point. And we're going to make sure she receives treatment for her "condition". Kate plans to give her therapy and Carson is already working out a drug regime to keep her more aggressive tendencies in check.'

'Doped up and compliant,' he nodded, pleased with that thought. 'Sounds appropriate. Anyway, I haven't had chance to ask how you guys found me.'

Elizabeth looked pleased to change the subject. 'Well, I have to confess our methods weren't entirely orthodox. The Genii gave us some clues that led to the Atrascans, and when it became clear negotiations would get us nowhere with them, we had to resort to...underhand tactics.'

'Underhand tactics?' he smirked. 'That doesn't sound like you.'

'Well, to be honest, it wasn't my idea. Ronon and Major Lorne put the suggestion to me, and by that time we were getting pretty desperate.'

'So what did you do?'

'We kidnapped a team of Atrascan soldiers who were trying to bully the Medulsans into giving them our address. Then we applied a certain amount of...pressure. Or rather Ronon did'

He raised his eyebrows. He knew exactly the sort of pressure Ronon would have applied. 'Oh, wow! Well, if it's any consolation it apparently worked.'

'Yes it did. And later today we intend to let them 'gate back to their home world, with no further repercussions.'

'So, we're not going to step in and stop this crazy scheme they have to acquire Ancient tech?'

She gave him a pained smile. 'I'm not so sure we're going to need to. Our long range scanners have picked up several Wraith vessels headed toward the planet, expected to arrive there in a little over two days. Even though we've alerted the prisoners to the threat, they're determined to go back there and fight alongside their people. Seems all the recent 'gate activity and troop movements on their planet have brought them some unwanted attention.'

'I know how that feels,' he muttered, then averted his gaze.

'On the plus side, all this has built a tremendous bond between us and the Medulsans. They were a great help in gathering information and helping us to capture Danteeras's son. I think they're going to be pretty happy to let us stay in touch with them this time.'

'So, we get to study the Anti-Wraith gun?'

'Eventually...I hope,' she nodded. 'I'm not going to push them on it, but I'm pretty sure Alishia will already know how important that is to us.'

'Yeah. She's a smart woman.'

'That she is,' Elizabeth agreed. 'As much as I regret everything that's happened to you, I think the Medulsans will prove good friends to have out here in Pegasus...well...most of them will.'

'Absolutely.'

'Sarayah's been asking about you.'

That piece of news wasn't exactly a surprise to him. He didn't look up when he asked, 'What'd you tell her?'

'Nothing. Everyone is under strict instructions not to discuss you with her at all.'

He did look up at that comment. 'Really?'

She nodded. 'I asked Dr Heightmeyer to assess her and...let's just say her findings were pretty disturbing. She appears to be not only a sociopath, but also suffers from extreme paraphiliac urges.'

'Okay. Sociopath, I get. You lost me on the other part,' he admitted.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing with colour. 'Perhaps I should ask Kate to drop by and explain this to you –'

'I'd prefer it if you did...she might try to analyse me or something.'

She held his gaze for a moment or two, then dropped her eyes to her hands, which now lay, fingers knitted together, in her lap. 'Paraphilia is a title given to a range of psychological disorders that manifest themselves as...' she paused, pursing her lips and quite obviously choosing her words very carefully, '...sexually deviant behaviour.'

He blinked, and swallowed the lump of embarrassment he felt about to choke on. Maybe this would have been better coming from a psychologist rather than his commander. 'Riiigghhhtt,' he drawled, hoping that was the end of it.

'It appears she enjoys the domination and humiliation of her victims, something much more commonly found in men than women because of the mental and physical strength required to completely subjugate someone, but certainly not unheard of. Right now, she's fixated on you, probably because your humiliation has never been completed to her satisfaction. That's why Kate has told none of us to speak to her about you. If she were to hear how ill you've been as a result of her actions, she probably find that...' Another pause for thought. '...gratifying.'

He grimaced at the insinuation. 'Okay, I think I got the picture,' he said, stopping her from providing him with any more details.

'Well, I did say it might be better coming from Kate,' she half-apologised. Then, her face now aglow, she asked, 'Is there anything we should know about this latest episode with her?'

He frowned, not sure what she was getting at, then it dawn on him that she was asking him how far Sarayah had got with her ill intentions. He realised now that was what the question the others had wanted to ask and hadn't dared to. They were worried she'd taken advantage of him.

'Nothing happened,' he told her flatly, having no desire to discuss what she had or hadn't achieved.

'That's good...that's really good...because that's not what she's been telling Kate...'

'I'm not lying!' he shot back at her, growing instantly agitated.

'No, John. I'm not suggesting you are. I think I know which one of the two of you to trust.'

He played those words over in his head, squinting at her. 'By that, you mean me, right?' he asked.

'Of course I mean you. You know, we're going to have to find a way to trust one another again after all this, so I just wanted you to know...well, if you need to talk to anyone...'

'I don't.'

She looked a little hurt by the force of his assertion. 'So, you don't want to see her at all?'

'Sarayah? No!' he almost choked out.

'I meant Kate, actually.'

Embarrassed by his outburst, he dropped his eyes. 'Right, uhm, no...not right now.'

'Why am I not surprised to hear you say that?' she said sadly, standing up. 'Anyway, you look beat, so I'm going to leave and let you get some rest.'

'When does she go to Medulsa?' he called after her, just as she reached the door.

Elizabeth turned to face him again. 'Why so interested?'

'Just want to know when I can rest easy again,' he joked, 'knowing I'm not going to wake up and find her beside my bed boiling bunnies.'

'We wouldn't let that happen, John. Trust me, she's locked up good and secure until she leaves at 1400 hours tomorrow.'

oooOOOooo

Sheppard checked his watch – 15:37 – in less than 24 hours she would be out of his hair. He could cope for that long.

'If you think I'm going to let you out of this infirmary, you're an even bigger idiot that I thought,' Carson protested, trying to stop Sheppard taking off his scrubs and changing into the uniform now laid out on his bed. 'And who brought that in here anyway? I'd like to give them a piece of my mind, let me tell you.'

Sheppard checked his watch for the two hundredth time at least that day. 'Carson, I don't have time to argue about this. I have to be down in the 'gate room in ten minutes, so either help me get dressed so I don't do myself any damage, or leave me to it. Either way, I'm going.'

Carson shook his head in utter disbelief and helped him to pull up his trousers. 'You must be feeling rough to let me help you do this,' he grumbled.'

'Ribs are hurting, so I can't use my left arm yet,' he said letting Carson give them the good tug they needed to slide on over his cast. 'And how long before I can get this damn thing off my leg because it itches like crazy when I get hot?'

'Another two and a half weeks at least,' Carson told him. 'It's a broken bone, not a bruise, Colonel.'

Trousers in place, Carson helped him slip the top half of the scrubs over his head, then levered the T-shirt on to cover his battered torso. His clothes were immaculate. He figured Teyla had pressed them herself before bringing them to him. She'd taken some persuading, but when he'd explained his reasons for wanting them, she'd agreed to collect them for him on the understanding he didn't tell Carson of her involvement.

Carson tried to help him tuck his shirt in, but backed off when Sheppard glared a silent warning that he could do that much himself. He stood back and watched the colonel, arms folded over his chest.

'How do I look?' Sheppard asked him.

'Like crap, but I'm sure that won't stop you seeing this stupid idea through. I'll go and fetch you a wheelchair –' Sheppard was about to complain, but Carson was having none of it. 'Listen, it's nothing short of a bloody miracle I'm letting you do this at all. So don't even think about refusing a chair,' the doctor warned him, disappearing off without another word.

Sheppard sat on the edge of the bed, exhausted even from that limited burst of activity. Much as he hated to admit it, Carson was right. He couldn't walk to the gate room; he needed a chair.

A few moments later, Carson returned with his transport and helped him into it, extending a footrest to support his broken limb. The colonel sighed, but knew further protest would be futile.

Carson quickly took him to the transporter, from where they were almost instantaneously taken to the correct floor for the 'gate room. 'I honestly don't know why I let you talk me into this,' Carson muttered as they crossed the last few hundred feet of corridor.

'Because you're a good friend, Carson,' Sheppard told him sincerely.

'Aye, well, I'm not so sure. A good friend would be telling you to stay away from that woman, not helping you down here so you can wave her off.'

'Trust me, Carson, there'll be no waving,' Sheppard told him. 'Stop here!'

They'd reached the open doorway of the 'gate room, and Sheppard didn't want him to go any further.

Carson walked to the doorway and peered inside, then looked round at him. 'Is this it? Don't you want to go inside? Oh, no you bloody well don't!'

That last remark, as Sheppard well knew, was in response to the fact he was now trying to push himself up out of his chair. Carson's added weight pushed him back down into the seat. 'C'mon, Carson. It's just a few yards!' he pleaded.

'Absolutely not. Do you want that leg to mend or not? Not to mention the fact the rest of your body has barely had time to recover from your ordeal.'

Sheppard tried his best puppy-dog eyes on his Scottish friend, hoping it would melt his heart. 'Please, Carson. This is important to me. I have to walk in there. I need to see her go, and I need her to see...to see I'm not beaten.'

Carson stared down at him, and his expression softened. 'Aye, I suppose I understand that. Let me ask someone to bring a crutch down for...I don't bloody believe it!'

Sheppard turned stiffly in his seat, worried the security team escorting Sarayah to Medulsa might have taken a different route to the one he expected them to use and they were now approaching him. Instead, he saw Ronon walking up the corridor from the transporter, carrying a crutch.

'Thought you might need one of these,' he rumbled, joining Carson in front of his chair.

'Are you two in cahoots or something?' Carson demanded. 'How on earth did you know he'd need one of those?'

'I found out he'd left the infirmary with you in a chair, and figured where you'd be taking him. I knew I wouldn't want to be seen in a wheelchair if I was him, so I asked for one of these. Got some funny looks, but no one refused.'

'No, I imagine not many people refuse you anything, son,' Carson joked. 'Come on then, Colonel. Let's get you on your feet.'

Gritting his teeth in preparation, Sheppard let them lift him up and steady him until he got his breath back. Then Ronon shoved the crutch under his right arm ribs and he was good to go...kind of.

'Now mind you stick close to him,' Carson warned the Satedan. 'If he starts falling, I want you to catch him before he hits the floor. I'm not sure his body could take another blow like that!'

'Will do, Doc,' Ronon promised and as Sheppard took his first couple of tentative steps, he stuck right by him.

Once inside the 'gate room, the troops facing him immediately noticed his entrance, and a murmur stuck up, rippling through them to the extent it caught the attention of Elizabeth, Rodney and Teyla, who stood pretty much centre stage awaiting the arrival of the prisoner.

Teyla smiled warmly and dipped her head in acknowledgement, but the other two were far more shocked, having had no idea of his plans.

'My God, John. What are you doing here?' Elizabeth gasped.

'Carson, what the hell are you thinking?' Rodney demanded, is face turning almost puce. 'This is just about the last place he should be right now.'

'No, Rodney. This is the only place I can be,' Sheppard insisted, struggling for breath with the exertion of his efforts. 'I need to see her go.'

'But you can't –'

Elizabeth grabbed Rodney's arm and silently shook her head, flicking her eyes toward the other entranceway to the room. The security party was just arriving, Sarayah in their midst.

Major Lorne, who headed them up, looked momentarily stunned to see his CO on his feet, then stopped and saluted him as they arrived in front of the Stargate. Sheppard flashed him a brief smile, moved by the display of respect, but unable to reciprocate in kind. He dipped his head and hoped it would do.

He turned his attention then to the woman who had once again battered his defences, leaving him fit only for the infirmary. Their eyes met, and for a moment, no emotion registered on her face at all, Carson's medications keeping her reactions muted. Then, the spark returned to her dark orbs and, very slowly, she began to smile.

'Dial it up,' Elizabeth ordered, apparently keen to send her on her way.

Lorne tried to turn Sarayah to face the 'gate, but she wouldn't be budged, staring Sheppard down the whole time with that infuriating grin splitting her face.

'What is wrong with you?' Rodney demanded. Elizabeth tried to silence him again, but this time he was determined to have his say. 'No I will not bite my tongue. That woman is a freak and someone has to tell her that.'

Sheppard winced at his outburst, recognising the flare of anger it ignited in their prisoner. But the moment passed and her attention was soon back on him.

The wormhole engaged, and Lorne took hold of her arm, dragging her toward it, Sarayah all the time watching Sheppard over her shoulder. Just before they reached the event horizon, she broke her silence.

'I'll be seeing you again, John,' she grinned, her eyes still locked in his even as the major tugged her through the 'gate.

The event horizon shut down, successful ending the moment.

'Yeah, well, good riddance to that fruit loop,' McKay muttered, shuffling past Sheppard and out of the room without even looking at him again.

'And with those few words, Rodney McKay sets back the cause of removing the stigma from mental illness several decades,' Elizabeth smirked as she turned to Sheppard herself now. 'Get yourself back to the infirmary, John. It's all over now.'

Is it? he heard a voice inside his head ask. Sarayah certainly didn't seem to think so.

'You did well, Colonel. You stood strong before her. I am proud of you,' Teyla told him, gently placing her hands on his shoulders, and dipping her head in the traditional Athosian sign of friendship.

He touched his forehead to hers, his neck twinging from the whiplash. 'Thanks, Teyla.'

'Come on, buddy. Let's get you back to the infirmary,' Ronon said, gesturing toward the door.

'Just gimme a minute, would you?' Sheppard asked, seeing both his and Carson's wary expressions. 'Please? I'm not about to make a bolt for it.'

Ronon glanced at Carson and waiting for him to signal it was okay. 'Aye, all right, son. We'll fetch the chair to you in a minute.'

'Thanks, Doc.'

He listened to the footsteps of them and the other security troops leaving, glancing up at the control room and spotting Chuck looking back at him. The technician smiled then looked away, getting on with whatever pressing task he had to do next.

Sheppard waited for a sense of calm to descend on him, but it didn't come. He'd thought getting rid of Sarayah and being back among his friends would ease his anxiety, but it still bubbled beneath the surface. Part of him was angry at himself for hating Sarayah so much when she was genuinely ill, and he felt he should be more tolerant of her because of that. But she'd touched on some raw nerves, and opened up old wounds he'd thought completely healed over, and now he felt...exposed.

It would take time to re-bury those feelings, but eventually he would find a way to control the sense of loneliness and bitter disappointment those memories had gouged into his spirit once again. For now, he would concentrate on physical recovery, though, because Sarayah had once again sapped him of the strength and the will to do anything else. Senator Laurel and his father had no hold over him now, and neither did she. She was gone from Atlantis and under Medulsan control now. He never had to see her again if he chose not to. He couldn't foresee a situation that would make him want to, that was for sure.

With fatigue now threatening to collapse his legs beneath him, he signalled over to his friends hanging back in the doorway, waiting for him. With Sarayah now gone, he finally let the weakness show, Ronon bearing his weight as he lowered him back into the chair and they set of back to the infirmary. Much as he normally hated the place, right now he knew it was where he needed to be. Recovery would take time, and more patience than he suspected he had. But he was back amongst friends. If anyone could lift his spirits and help to put these painful experiences behind him, it was them.

Now, he just had to find a way to silence his father's voice once and for all so he could let them in to help.

A/N So, there it is, the end...for now. A big thank you to Sterenyk Strey for the encouragement to write this when I wasn't sure whether to bother, for casting an eye over the story to make sure I didn't have any gaping plot holes, and for sorting me out where my dialogue was too British! All mistakes are, of course mine, and hopefully I made enough additions to keep it interesting on the second read for you.

To everyone else, I hope you all enjoyed the journey and thanks for following this through to the end. ..at least the end for now. :D