A/N: Here's my answer to the challenge! This is a prequel to Titan5's Going Home, so it comes immediately before where her story starts. I tried to stick as close to the facts of her story as possible, but any inconsistencies are my own errors. Hope you enjoy it, and make sure to read Titan5's story right after this!

End of the Line

Chapter 1

John Sheppard stepped out of the trees and into the wide, grassy field. The sun was bright overhead and beat into his jacket, warming his skin. He shivered slightly at the change in temperature. The stargate on this world was buried deep in woods too dense to allow a puddle jumper through, and the hour long walk in the damp shadows beneath the canopy of trees had chilled him more than he realized.

"Anyone want sun block?" Rodney McKay asked. He stood at the tree line, just barely within the shadows and slathered on the lotion. Ronon and Teyla stepped out into the sunny field at the same time, shaking their heads and laughing.

"Oh, yeah, laugh it up. I fail to see the humor in being burned alive by UV radiation. You tell me: how is skin cancer funny?"

"We're hardly burning alive, McKay," Ronon answered.

Teyla turned her face toward the sun, soaking in the warmth. John smiled slightly at her, glad he wasn't the only one who had gotten cold. He'd been on active duty for over a month now, but at times he still felt like he had barely recovered. The puddle jumper crash and near starvation of so many months ago, followed by a long recovery, had felt never-ending. He was still thin and got cold fast. He tired quickly too, but he wouldn't admit to that.

"Colonel? Sun block?"

John looked up to see McKay holding out the tube of lotion, his face open, kind—not the usual McKay. Not that McKay was unkind, John amended. Just never so…considerate.

"No, thanks," John answered and tried not to notice the momentary look of disappointment crease McKay's face. He turned back to look across the grassy field, and was suddenly and almost inexplicably reminded of a grass field he had hiked to with his mother and father. He couldn't have been more than six or seven at the time, and they'd made a special trip just for a picnic. John smiled at the image of his mother running, her arms outstretched, and the sound of his father's laughter as John chased a flock of birds out of their hiding places in the deep grass. It had been a long time since he'd thought of his early life, or his mother and father.

It was Teyla that finally took the lead, spurring them along. John breathed in deeply at the light breeze that suddenly fluttered through the field. The fresh air filled his lungs, and his mood lifted as he fell into place behind his teammates.

"I am sure that Major Lorne and his team are anxious for our arrival," Teyla said to no one in particular. The four of them trudged through the grass, occasional conversation bouncing between everyone but John.

John's mind drifted as he walked along. A drip of sweat rolled down the side of his face, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. He noticed then that Teyla and Ronon were keeping a sharp eye open for any unexpected visitors, and he shook himself out of his fugue.

They were offworld, and offworld meant possible danger. He walked slightly behind his teammates—watching their backs, he told himself—and tried to ignore the growing ache in his legs and the mounting sweat dripping off of his forehead.

"Are you alright, John?" Teyla asked, startling John out of his thoughts. He'd been wandering along for who knows how long, not realizing that his mind had drifted again.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Why?"

Ronon and McKay turned around, and John saw that they were much farther in front of him than he'd intended.

"You seem tired," Teyla answered.

"A little. Sorry," John mumbled.

"Why are you walking so slow, Colonel? You're not trying to make me feel better, are you? I am quite capable of hiking for hours on end," McKay yelled.

"Really?" Ronon responded, arching his eyebrow.

"Shut up, you oaf." But he took a step away from Ronon as he said it, flinching when Ronon raised his arm, then scowling when he realized the much bigger man was simply taking a swig of water from his canteen.

John would have laughed, but laughing seemed to require more energy than he had at the moment. As he and Teyla caught up to them, he felt the eyes of his teammates on him and he squirmed uncomfortably.

"Let's go. Losing daylight," he quipped, but even to his own ears, the voice sounded run down. He pressed forward, passed his friends, and missed the looks of concern they exchanged behind his back.

"Are you sure you don't want to take a break? I'm just saying I don't mind stopping," McKay spoke first. John heard Ronon stifle a laugh.

"You're always laughing at me. What is it with you anyway? What happened to the whole team concept—supportive through thick and thin, sickness and health…"

"Are those not the words used when a man and woman are bonded in marriage?" Teyla asked, and John could hear the note of teasing in the inflection of her voice.

"Marriage? What? No! I mean, they are, but that's not what I meant. Like I'd want to marry all of you. You'd drive me insane. All those reference to alien creatures I have no first-hand experience with so can't see the humor in the described situation—not that I'd want to run into some of those creatures by the way. And why are you walking so slow, Sheppard?"

John started at the sound of his name and turned slightly. McKay was right on his heels and John flinched, taking an involuntary step back—right into Ronon, who caught him by the arm to steady him.

"Sorry," John said. He could feel his cheeks flush with heat.

"You have not been on active duty for long. Perhaps you are still recovering."

They looked at John. He could feel their eyes boring into him, waiting for him to respond. I'm fine, their eyes seemed to will him to say, but the words reached the tip of John's tongue and no further. He shrugged and kept walking. Lorne was waiting.

"Colonel," Major Evan Lorne said as he stepped forward and saluted. John saluted back and smiled.

"How are things going?" He glanced around the excavation site, noting how much of the field the scientists had dug up since they'd arrived two days earlier.

"As exciting as ever, sir."

"That dull, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Lorne answered. "Although in our line of work, that's not necessarily a bad thing in my book."

"I'd have to agree with that assessment, Major."

The two of them walked along the perimeter of the excavation as Lorne gave his report—brief as it was. No sign of indigenous life, but occasional blips on the life signs detectors. Possibly large animals, but nothing that came close enough to the teams for them to know for sure.

The sun was high in the sky, pounding the back of John's neck. He could feel sweat trickling down his back and soaking into his t-shirt. The teams switched: John's team took up positions while Lorne's team headed back to Atlantis. It wasn't the usual type of assignment his team got, but every team had to do scientist babysitting duty, including his own. He couldn't very well ask his men to do something he didn't do himself, and it was only for 24 hours.

The afternoon passed slowly, but John felt his energy levels rejuvenate a little. There wasn't that much walking required, and the sun felt good. He shed his coat, tempted to leave his vest off as well, but shrugged back into it in the end. The scientists ignored them mostly, digging in their trenches as they uncovered possible Ancient ruins. McKay rushed between each site, urging the scientists to uncover more than just old rocks.

Teyla and Ronon spread out along the perimeter, and the three of them kept a close eye on the trees. They'd seen nothing so far, not even Lorne's blips on the life signs detector. He knew Teyla and Ronon were still watching him closely when they thought he wasn't looking, but nothing he said would make them stop, so he ignored it for the moment. Maybe when they got back to Atlantis he'd talk to them both.

The sky was a deep dark blue, and the pale green leaves on the trees fluttered in the wind. John suddenly flashed on the puddle jumper crash as it tore through the leaves and branches of that distant world. He gasped at the memory, and the present world tilted under his feet.

John staggered to the side, catching himself on a tree. The ground continued to spin and he closed his eyes. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees until the episode passed. He could feel sweat dripping off his face, but he suddenly felt cold. He shivered and sucked in deep breaths until his sense of equilibrium returned.

"Sheppard?"

Ronon. He should have known the big man would notice him.

"Sorry, it's okay. I'm okay now."

"You're not okay. You're white as a sheet!" McKay hollered as he barged over. A few of the scientists poked their heads up and looked at John with open concern. John turned his head away from their gaze.

"I just…I just got a little dizzy. I haven't eaten anything in awhile." In truth, he could feel the exhaustion creeping into every limb. He'd been ripped from sleep by a nightmare after only two hours of restless tossing and turning the night before, and then he had lain awake the rest of the night staring out the window.

"Well, then eat. Here." McKay shoved a powerbar in John's face. John grabbed it reluctantly. He wasn't really all that hungry, but it had been awhile since he'd eaten and Carson was still harping on him about his weight, urging him every week to put on a few more ounces after all the weight he'd lost from nearly starving to death.

He sat down on a nearby boulder, purposefully opening the powerbar and taking a bite in front of McKay. Ronon patted him on the back and walked toward Teyla, no doubt to let her know what had happened. John scowled in irritation.

"Keep making that face and it will freeze like that forever."

John looked up to see McKay standing over him, arms folded.

"My mother used to tell me that," John smirked, hoping it would alleviate the worry hovering just below the surface of McKay's irate expression.

"What was that all about anyway? Are you sick?"

"I'm not sick, McKay. I'm fine." John enunciated the last two words—the words he knew his team had wanted to hear him say earlier that now flowed easily off his tongue. He glared at the scientist, daring him to contradict him.

"You're definitely not fine."

"Go away."

McKay didn't. He stood there, staring at John. John's hand tightened around the powerbar in irritation.

"McKay—"

"What? You're fine? Everything's normal? You're all pale and clammy and you almost passed out and we're offworld and it really hasn't been that long since Carson let you back on active—"

John bolted to his feet, faster even than he thought was possible, and McKay stepped back in surprise. John's face morphed from irritation to anger.

"I am fine. I've been fine for weeks. If I wasn't fine, Carson would never have cleared me for active duty." He tossed the powerbar to the ground. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"Whoa, okay. But seriously, you don't usually snap like that, which leads me to believe you're not fine. Physically, fine, yes, I concede. You have recovered. But mentally—"

"McKay—" John hissed through clenched teeth.

"What is going on here?" Teyla asked, walking quickly toward them. She stepped between John and Rodney, pushing the two apart. "John?"

"I'm fine. Why won't any of you believe that? I am fine. The last few months have been hell but I'm recovering and I can deal with this on my own. I don't need you whispering behind my back and tip-toeing around to keep an eye on me like I'm suddenly going to snap—"

"You mean like when you snapped just—Ow!!" McKay yelped as Ronon wacked him on the side of the head.

"We are sorry, John. We were just concerned for you." Teyla grabbed his arm as she spoke, gently guiding him away from McKay and Ronon and a couple of scientists behind them who had stopped their work to listen to the argument. "It has been a trying time for all of us, but you are correct. You are recovering well."

"I have recovered."

"You have recovered," Teyla conceded. She watched him as they walked and John felt his face flush with heat again, this time out of embarrassment. I am such an ass sometimes.

"We should spread out, so we can keep a watch on the widest area possible."

"Yes, colonel." She gave his arm a soft squeeze then continued on ahead. John watched her as she scanned the trees and he bit down the frustration welling up within him, this time directed at himself. His patience was on a short string lately, but he forced himself to swallow his anger and focus on the task at hand.

The afternoon passed quietly after that. He knew his team was still keeping an eye on him, but he ignored them. They, in turn, ignored his outburst from earlier. McKay returned to bugging the scientists for any new discoveries; Ronon and Teyla matched Sheppard's pace around the excavation site and watched the trees.

The sun was just starting to sink into the trees when John saw a flash of movement in the woods in front of him, like a shadow. It was too quick to have been a leaf caught in the breeze. He stopped, staring intently into the trees. Moss-covered trunks and limbs and lime green bushes, thick and nearly impenetrable, stared back.

Another flash—a shadow that jumped from one tree to another, barely perceptible in the corner of his eye. He turned his head slightly, but whatever he'd seen had disappeared into the forest background again. He dug into his vest, pulling out the life signs detector without looking away from the woods. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Something was watching him.

The life-signs detector lit up in his hand, and he glanced down at it for a split second before looking back up at the trees. He raised his P-90 this time, flipping off the safety as he scanned the trees.

He'd seen it clearly—a white dot less than thirty feet from his own. In the distance, off to the side, he could see Ronon moving along the tree line, his gun raised, and he imagined Teyla and McKay taking up similar positions on the other side.

He stashed the life-signs detector and palmed his radio.

"I've got something. In the woods."

"What?"

"Not sure yet. He hasn't shown himself. Gather the civilians and get ready to head back toward the gate."

"Sheppard?"

"I don't know, Ronon, but something's out there, watching us."

John scanned the trees again. He glanced behind him at the sound of the scientists climbing out of their holes. Satisfied that they were following his orders, he turned back to the woods.

This time, he saw the shadow clearly duck from one tree to another. A flash of dark hair, a bare arm…

"Sir?"

John jumped in surprise. One of the scientist was standing next to him and looking into the woods with a combination of horror and excitement.

"What are you doing? Get the hell back," John hissed.

A whizzing sound, followed by a solid thump was the only reply John got. The man in the woods moved again, too fast for John to react, and disappeared again into the trees. The scientist next to John crumpled to the ground.

John kept his eyes and weapon up, but he kneeled down and grabbed the scientist, backpedaling until he reached a trench. He fell as much as jumped into it. Ronon was running toward him—John could hear him—but he kept his eyes on the trees, waiting for the shadow man to reappear.

"Get everyone to the gate now," he yelled into his radio. "Ronon—"

"Here," Ronon answered, jumping down into the trench next to him. John risked a glance down at the scientist and grimaced at the arrow sticking out of the man's shoulder. His face was pale, but his chest still moved with every ragged inhale.

"Get that guy. I'll watch your back."

Ronon didn't argue. John's heart was pounding in his chest, but professionalism took over, giving him a strength and an edge against the fatigue that had been nagging him all day. Ronon slung the unconscious scientist over his shoulder, mindful of the arrow in the man's chest, and climbed out of the trench.

Shadow man made his move again, but John was ready and he sprayed the trees with a burst of bullets. He ran backward then, his trigger finger taut, but shadow man had either moved positions or lay dead or injured on the ground.

They cleared the excavation site, and Ronon's pace quickened. John had just turned to run full tilt after Ronon when he heard another whish and thump as an arrow stuck the ground inches from his feet. He spun, and his heart sank at the appearance of at least a couple dozen men pouring from the trees and running toward them. He watched as a small group of them broke off and headed toward Teyla, McKay, and the civilians ahead of them.

"Ronon, they're flanking us. Get to Teyla and McKay and get the others to the gate. I'll cover you."

"Sheppard!"

"I'll be fine. Go!"

Ronon took off, the scientist on his shoulder flopping limply against his back. The others were at least a couple hundred yards in front of him. John veered off to the side into the woods, looking for a defensible position as he ran.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. John climbed behind a large boulder and watched his team's retreat. A few seconds later, their attackers appeared, running through the fields. A few of them had crude looking spears, but others had something similar to a crossbow, which they fired with surprising ease as they ran. They wore dark clothes—browns and greens that blended well into the woods.

John opened fire, noting when some of them went down. Half the group changed direction in mid-stride, heading toward John. He had barely a moment to feel relief that the others would only have a handful of attackers to deal with when the splinter group was upon him. John fired again, biting his lip as he focused on them. Arrows whipped passed his head or bounced off the rocks in front of him.

"Sheppard, we're at the gate!" Ronon's voice cut through the sound of automatic weapons fire.

"I'm on my way," John yelled into his radio. He fired another burst into the trees then backed up and started running toward the gate. A small stream appeared in front of him, and John leapt, easily crossing the three-foot distance. What he wasn't expecting, however, was one of his attackers popping out beside him when he landed and smacking him across the back of the head with some kind of club.

He had just enough time to remember the small group that had split off from the main group near the excavation site and then he hit the ground with his chest and immediately curled into himself. He wrapped his arms around his ribs then grabbed at the ground, dragging his fingers through the dirt as he struggled to breathe.

His lungs suddenly inflated, chasing away the white spots dancing across his vision. He coughed, sucking in too much air at once. After a long moment, he finally opened his eyes, certain he was breathing again and found himself face down in the dirt. Bare feet lined his vision, encircling him. He looked up, tried to smile, and reached for his radio.

He never saw the man come up behind him and smash the back of his club into John's head again.

TBC…