Author's note: I made it! Hope you enjoy the final chapter of this story, and thank you for R&R, feedback keeps me going some days, truly.

Chapter Six

Home Sweet Home

"Mckay?" Sheppard said, his eye twitching.

McKay was working furiously at a console, his attention fixated on the display. He mumbled to himself and continued punching different buttons.

"McKay?" Sheppard called again, peering out what was a window, though from the outside you couldn't tell it was there. The silver speck was approaching fast. Teyla was seated next to Sheppard, who was half standing on his seat, and Ford was up by McKay watching his desperate attempt at figuring out the alien technology.

"McKay!"

"I'm trying!" McKay snapped.

"Try harder." Sheppard said.

"Yes!" McKay crowed, and pushed three buttons in a row. The ship hummed to life, all four occupants exchanging relieved looks.

"He said it was pre-programmed." Ford said, looking at the display and waiting.

"Pre-programmed, but what if you've got to initiate the program." Sheppard said, checking the enemy ship's approach. It was getting closer.

McKay was muttering something then stabbed a button. Sheppard could have swore he heard something along the lines of eeny, meeny, miny...moe, but whatever McKay had done, something worked, because the ship was rising into the air.

Sheppard had just released the pent up air in his lungs, when the ship arced in the sky and started heading towards the approaching enemy ship, "Uh-oh."

McKay turned green, "I didn't do that."

"Yes, you did." Sheppard headed towards the controls and studied the display, "Relax, it's heading to the Stargate, look..." He pointed to a read-out that looked a lot like the one Brack had shown them in the bunker before. "Remember the Third Fleet were approaching from the area around the Gate, it makes sense."

"That doesn't help us get rid of the bogey coming straight at us Major!" Ford shouted, as everyone realized they were almost upon the other ship.

"Now would be a good time for weapons control." Sheppard said, staring at Rodney.

McKay looked at the ship, and back at Sheppard, "It'll be a miracle if I figure it out in time."

"Try anyway."

McKay started punching more buttons, it almost seemed like a random desperate attempt, and if it was, Sheppard wasn't going to ask. The ship rocked under a blast from the other enemy craft. Sheppard fell into Teyla, the impact jarring his arm painfully.

She tried to help right him, but ended up causing him to slide to the floor, "Sorry."

Before Sheppard could form a reply, the ship rocked again, violently, throwing Teyla on top of Sheppard. This time she hit his arm straight on, and he couldn't help the grunt of pain from escaping.

Teyla paled, "Are you okay?" She whispered, frantic.

"No...no I'm not. Now...get...off!" He shoved her up and away, probably rougher than necessary, but his frayed temper was reaching the limit.

"Got it!" McKay shouted, and they heard the ship jerk with the recoil of weapons fire.

Sheppard crawled to his knees, peering out the window, to see the opposing ship take a direct hit in the front. "Way to go McKay!"

"Major, the Gate!" Ford pointed where they could see the dead zone of the Gate area appearing up ahead. They could see a tall speck sticking up from the ground that could only be the Stargate.

The ship shuddered, seemed to tilt, then right itself; Teyla, Sheppard and Ford turned their eyes on McKay, who was looking like something very bad had just happened. "That's not good." He said.

"Do something." Sheppard said, voice low and deceptively calm.

"What?" McKay shouted, "Get out and push?"

"If it would help!" Sheppard shouted back.

"Major, the other ship, it's gaining." Ford indicated the display showing the red blip that they had passed after scoring the direct hit.

Sheppard groaned, things couldn't possibly get worse, he thought. The ship tilted again, haphazardly, and flew drunkenly downwards, the desolate ground rushing towards them at an alarming speed. Sheppard only had time to think that hitting the ground was going to hurt...a lot, when the ship pulled up a small amount, just enough for the nose to skim the ground and it to come in on it's belly, must be an auto safety mechanism, Sheppard thought, before the impact sent him flying forward.

"Major..."

Someone was calling his name, but he didn't want to get up. He was tired. He wanted to sleep and never ever get up.

"Major...get...up!" Hands shoved him roughly, but they were mostly ineffective, his bulk falling back into its original location. "You're crushing me!"

The panic got through his dulled senses, and he opened his eyes to find himself staring in McKay's. He jumped back so fast he almost passed out. "What the hell happened?"

"We crashed." McKay said dryly, trying to clamber to his feet and finding it harder than he thought.

"Teyla? Ford?" Sheppard remembered the other members of his team, and looked around the smoldering wreckage, seeing their bodies lying limp in the back of the ship.

He pushed himself up, and struggled to their side. He checked both and found them alive, but knocked unconscious. He shook Ford, gently at first, then harder when he failed to respond, "Ford!" No response, "Lieutenant!" He called louder and was rewarded with a groan.

"This isn't the time for sleeping Lieutenant, we've got to get out of here."

Ford struggled to regain awareness, and while he was occupied with that, Teyla woke, jumping up in a sudden rush of panic, "Where are we?" She said, her posture and tone betraying the surge of adrenaline through her system.

Sheppard grinned, "Do you always wake up like that?"

"Like what?" She regarded him sharply.

"Raring to go."

She frowned, not certain if he was teasing her or being sincere. "Did we crash?" She asked, instead of answering.

"Yes, spectacularly." Sheppard decided Ford and Teyla were mobile enough, but McKay was still down.

"McKay?"

"My leg." He grimaced, "I think it's...punctured."

"Punctured?" What kind of person used punctured, Sheppard thought, but he headed over, trying to not let exhaustion sap him back to the ground. They had to get out of here. They were well within the irradiated zone; hopefully close enough to the Stargate that it wouldn't be a long walk.

He looked at the area McKay was holding and saw that punctured was probably the best word. A thin metal rod from somewhere was sticking out of his leg. McKay was staring at it, looking white as a sheet, and dripping sweat, "I don't like things sticking out of me." He said weakly.

"Ford!" Sheppard called, "We've got to help McKay. He's got...something...stuck in his leg."

Ford had moved up and let out a low whistle, "Ouch."

"Could you stop looking like it's the freak show at the local carnival." McKay grouched, surprised that he hadn't fainted.

"We should go." Teyla said, reminding them of the dire situation.

Ford reached under McKay's arm, and helped him lever himself to his feet. "You okay?" He asked.

"As okay as one can be with a piece of metal stuck in them."

"Let's go!" Sheppard called, and headed towards the hatch, which was half-open from the impact. They managed to get out of the ship without more disaster, and could make out the Stargate probably a mile ahead. It'd be a long trip, but they could do it, Sheppard figured.

Teyla was scanning the land in front of them, "There's something there."

Sheppard could see what Teyla was referring to. Smoke was rising from the ground, and he could see an outline of something jumbled on the horizon. "I see it."

"The other ship?" Ford theorized, looking at Sheppard.

Sheppard nodded, "Probably." He looked back to the crumpled mess of their ship, looked a lot like what they were seeing ahead, he hoped in their case, there wasn't any survivors. They were unarmed, defenseless, and would have no way of hiding their approach.

"Let's go." He said, and began leading the way.

They walked in silence; the only sound was McKay's grunts with every step. The closer they got, the more they realized that the other ship must have gone down right at the Stargate. Sheppard hadn't voice his concern of the Gate being damaged. He'd leave the doom talk to McKay.

"You are getting worse." Teyla observed.

McKay and Ford were behind them, leaving the two free members to lead the group. Sheppard knew he was getting worse, he had hoped it wouldn't show. His arm was aching to the point where he'd almost cut it off to get rid of the constant pain. He didn't have the energy to deny the obvious, "I'll live."

Teyla nodded, and kept walking. They started encountering debris from the enemy ship when they were about forty feet from the gate. It was violently strewn about, and broken into charred bits of metal and electronic circuitry. This crash had been harder, and he didn't think they'd find any survivors, which was something he had hoped for, though now viewing the scattered mess, he felt a little guilty for his earlier thought.

They found the bulk of the ship lying ten feet from the DHD. "That was close." Sheppard said, chalking another disaster that had almost happened. He was surprised that they were even alive at this point. The good news, he hadn't felt the overwhelming irritation and aggression since they had crashed. He wondered if it was a localized thing. Beckett could figure it out when they got back, God knows he'd have plenty of time; they were mostly incapacitated and would be for weeks thanks to this excursion.

"Teyla, dial Atlantis." He ordered, walking over and poking at a large piece of metal with his foot.

Teyla circled the dialing device and began punching the coordinates. Ford and McKay balanced beside the DHD, McKay looking even worse than before, the trek to the gate causing his leg to bleed heavily. Sheppard continued to poke around the wreckage, not entirely sure why, but he was surprised when the metal he was poking slipped to the side, and revealed a very angry enemy pointing one of those pistols at him.

The guy was clearly wounded, blood slicking his hands, and his grip, "You don't want to do that." Sheppard said, worried that the guy did want to do that. He'd been shot three times by those pistols and each successive hit left him feeling worse.

The alien's arm wavered. He blinked, a trickle of blood dripping off his eyebrow ridge, and dropping onto his cheek. He dropped the weapon, and slumped to the ground. Sheppard relaxed, not believing he was still standing. He'd thought the guy was going to do it, there for a second, he thought he'd be the one going toes up this time around.

He studied the alien. It was just a kid, probably no more than a teenager from the looks of him. If they left him here, he'd die. If they took him back...he still might die from the looks of his injuries. Would he hate them for taking him from his world? He could always return, once he recovered. Sheppard debated, uncertain what to do. This alien had tried to kill them.

"Major?" Ford called, standing at the edge of the Gate, waiting to walk through.

Sheppard nudged the boy with his foot, "It's just a kid!"

No one knew what to say. They suspected what he was debating, but knew the decision was ultimately his to make. "Teyla, give me a hand." He called. He couldn't leave the kid to die, not like this.

"Major Sheppard?" Doctor Weir was standing at the base of the stairs, watching in fascinated disbelief as McKay and Ford limped over to a clear spot and dropped to the floor, while Sheppard and Teyla led an injured alien, supported between the two, noticing Sheppard's rumpled pasty appearance.

Sheppard winced as he and Teyla eased the boy down, "We could use some help." He tried not to holler as his arm moved despite his best attempts at keeping it still.

"Get a medical team, now!" Weir ordered, approaching the battered group.

"Don't...don't come any closer. We've been exposed to...more than one possible contagion." Sheppard said, finally giving up staying on his feet, and sat down as carefully as possible, half-falling in the process.

"Get a haz-mat team in here and quarantine the Gate area." Weird said, not flinching, but he could tell she wanted answers, and wanted them yesterday.

Too bad, he thought dimly, as he could tell his hold on consciousness was evaporating, "Friday... the 13th..." He whispered, and his eyes rolled up into his head, as he slumped sideways to the floor, thankfully for him, on his left side.

Weir stood rooted to the spot, not believing what had just happened. She looked at Sheppard passed out, McKay had a huge metal rod sticking out of his leg, Ford looked...he just looked like hell, and Teyla had a huge knot on her head and looked a little green...and then the alien...not more than a boy from the looks of him, and also injured. What the hell had happened?

Sheppard floated in a haze of drugged sleep. He felt good. He wasn't angry, tired, or filled with a constant ache. He could hear the murmur of voices talking around him and figured it was some time during the day. He had no idea how long he'd been out, and he didn't really care.

"Major?" A voice called.

Sheppard pretended he didn't hear. He kept his eyes closed and drifted. He must have fallen back asleep because next time he woke he could tell it was night in the infirmary. There was a hushed quiet to the night, a lack of noise that signaled the normal run of people and machinery were on stand-by. This time he didn't wake up feeling floaty and pleasant, just the opposite. His arm was aching terribly, probably what woke him up, and he felt hot and sweaty. He shifted, restless, trying to get in a more comfortable position where his arm wasn't hurting so badly.

"Major?" That same voice as earlier called to him again. This time he responded, and cracked his eyes, surprised to see Beckett hovering over.

"Beckett?" His voice was scratchy.

"How do you feel Major?" He asked, noting the creased lines of pain standing out sharply on his forehead.

"Like crap." Sheppard didn't mince words.

Beckett settled into the chair beside him, "I imagine you are. That arm was a mess."

"How're the others?"

"Good, McKay had to have minor surgery, we patched up the hole. Teyla has a concussion, but she's resting comfortably. Ford was exhausted, dehydrated, I sent him to his quarters after making sure he could eat and drink."

"The boy?"

Beckett frowned, "He's not so good. Had some nasty internal injuries. It'll be a long recovery."

"But he'll recover?" Sheppard pressed, wincing against another wave of pain.

"I think so."

Sheppard was aching so bad he wondered if someone had busted his other arm. It felt like the pain had spread everywhere. Beckett stood and withdrew something from the pocket of his coat, "Rest Major, we'll talk more tomorrow." He injected something into Sheppard's IV, and within seconds he felt the drugs begin easing the pain. He closed his eyes and drifted, held again in the sweet hand of morpheus.

"I see you're doing better."

Sheppard looked up from the magazine he was reading. Ford had leant him his copy of MAD Magazine. Stupid really, but he could use the jokes. "Yes, I am." He said, smiling.

"Carson says you'll be fine in a few weeks, McKay too." Weir pulled a chair alongside his bed, and sat down, studying the Major carefully, "Are you sure your okay?"

Sheppard debated on how to reply. He knew she was worried, and after almost taking her head off with that Ancient device, he'd have to say she obviously cared enough to not hold it against him, but he didn't want her feeling guilty over the disastrous mission that she had sent them on, as a form of payback. She had no way of knowing what was going to happen. The initial MALP telemetry hadn't picked up the low levels of radiation, and Doctor Beckett had confirmed the levels had fallen low enough to not present any potential health risks, and as the area looked like a wasteland, no one had considered the area could be dangerous.

He smiled, a crooked grin to hide the deep thoughts running through his mind, "I am."

Weir studied him, but didn't press the issue, "Did Carson tell you the boy is going to make it?"

"Yes, he did."

"The boy asked for asylum...he wants to stay in Atlantis." Weir said.

Sheppard was surprised...at least a little. He knew the Athosians had been okay with leaving their world, but the Wraith breathing down their necks had made that decision a little easier. This kid was going to give up on everything he had ever known.

"He also said he thinks he knows what is causing the aggression in the men on the planet."

"Really?" Sheppard wanted to hear this.

"Pollen." Weir announced, watching as John reacted in much the same way she had earlier.

"Pollen?" Sheppard shook his head, "You've got to be kidding me? They are beating the crap out of each other because of...flowers?"

"Brings new meaning to death by roses."

Sheppard groaned, "That was bad."

Weir tilted her head, and got up, "You should rest."

"I've been resting."

"Rest more." Weir began walking towards the door, and looked back, "Major?"

Sheppard looked at her, "What?"

"Stop bringing strays home. We're going to run out of room." Weir shot a parting grin, and ambled out of the room, leaving Sheppard staring bemused at the empty door.

McKay snorted from his bed, proving he had been listening in to their conversation. John wrinkled his forehead, and shifted back against the pillow, "I don't bring home strays." He said, to no one in particular, "They follow me home."

THE END