Title: In Between
Author: causeAscene
Warning: Alright, I'm going to warn you guys ahead of time: this is a character study. It's not extremely exciting, and follows John's thougths and journey in a very awkward and difficult situation. It's wordy. So, if you have the time to read (a lot) about how I feel John would react in such a situation, then be my guest and I hope you enjoy. Other than that, a few bad words but nothing you wouldn't hear on the show.
Summary: There is life, there is death, and then there is something in between. And John Sheppard was stuck in it.
Thanks: sandgnat and Ruffles, both of which really improved this story. And to the movie The Invisible for the idea.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them for a little while.

Alrighty, if you're still on board, please enjoy

In Between - Chapter I

Sheppard could feel his body breaking under the pressure of dozens of hands, feet, and various other objects. He tried to fight, and had even held his own for quite a while, but there were too many. There were just too many people, too much pain. Even for him.

He was becoming less and less aware of his body but was sure he was curled up on his side, his hands over his head, bracing himself for as much as possible. The smell of dirt mixed with blood assaulted his senses and the sickening sound of bones crunching and snapping coincided with the different waves of pain that wreaked havoc on his constantly deteriorating body.

John knew he shot at least three of his assailants, but more kept coming. Punching, kicking, tearing and ripping until his weapons were gone. Until he stopped trying to fight back and stopped moving altogether. This was not how he wanted to die; cowering on the ground as he was beaten to death by a group of punks. He hadn't even started the fight nor had the planet been an entire bust. Nope. He had simply been walking back to the 'gate when the group jumped him; that was it. But it didn't matter. Here he was, regardless of what he had done or what had led him here.

The beating didn't stop. Would it ever, he wondered, or would he die before they decided he was pounded into enough of a pulp?

The pain had been fierce before, but now, he was losing the ability to feel it. It probably wasn't a good sign, but he didn't care anymore. There was no getting out of this one. No miracles, not this time; this is where it was going to end. And since that was the case, he preferred to not be in pain as he took his last breaths.

He was vaguely aware of loud, obtrusive sounds and bright lights. Why couldn't it just end? He was ready. It wasn't worth it. His team was fine, he knew that. He had done his job and now his time was over. He could accept that.

"Sheppard!" someone shouted close to him. He then felt hands on him, but they were not there to hurt, but to comfort. "Come on, Sheppard, hold on…" He knew that voice; someone he knew well. McKay? Over the next few minutes - or few hours, he couldn't be sure - John heard who he thought was McKay talk and plead with him. "You can't die now. Just…hold on. Okay? Help is on the way."

John listened to McKay and while all sounds slowly faded away, he heard McKay's desperate plea. Every inch of him wanted to fade away, but a small part of him held on to life, clung to it, while the rest of him let go.

oOo

John's eyes snapped open and he sat up so suddenly, he almost toppled out of his bed. He could feel his heart beating wildly against his ribcage, apparently trying to escape from his body.

What a nightmare… not that nightmares were rare for John Sheppard. He usually ended up watching his team endure torture, while he sat perfectly fine. Or seeing Ford, always out of his reach. Or Elizabeth telling him to leave her behind on the Replicator planet. Now that scenario plagued John's dreams all too often as of late.

But this dream was so different and so very real. It was like he could remember the pain and the panicked thoughts and finally giving up as the fists overwhelmed his ravaged body. Yet here he was, in his bed on Atlantis, feeling foolish for getting worked up over a nightmare. He looked around his room and saw that it was still shadowed in darkness, indicating that the sun had yet to rise.

He ran his hands over his face, letting them linger on his eyes, before stretching his arms over his head. That's when it hit him; he felt amazing. He felt completely rested, no headache or any other pain that he could think of. He wasn't hungry, nor was he hot or cold. He felt almost perfect. Now, that didn't happen too often…

He glanced over at his clock and saw that it was only 4:30 in the morning, and briefly considered trying to go back to sleep. But why would he do that when he felt so wonderful? Nope. This was the perfect time to get up and go for a run. Running always made him feel good, and seeing as how he needed the endorphins most mornings, the thought of adding the pleasure of running to his already heightened feeling of euphoria enticed him. He got out of bed with no difficulty whatsoever and had slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in no time.

He left his room and entered the dimly lit hallway, its light warm and welcoming. He considered inviting Ronon to go with him, but it was still pretty early so he decided he would go on his own for now and if he felt up to it later, he would have another go when Ronon got up.

He started off with a slow jog through the deserted hallways, but he craved more and knew he could handle starting off faster this morning. Man, what did I do last night? he wondered happily.

He quickly found the perfect pace and was soon lost in the sound of his feet colliding with the ground. It was heaven, or something close to it. The weather was beautiful outside and the endless water reflected the two bright moons like a mirror. A soft breeze combed through his hair and lightly covered his face with drops of sea water. Salty air filled his lungs and he took it in greedily, loving every second of it.

What an amazing way to start the day. It had to be one of the best he'd had in a while.

In what felt like just a few short minutes, John had circled the entire east side of the city and felt like he could go ten more rounds, but figured it was time to head back in. The sun had already risen - with one of the most gorgeous sunrises he had ever witnessed - and he knew that people would start calling him sooner or later.

Reluctantly, he slipped through one of the doors that led to one of Atlantis' many hallways. He found this one to be deserted, which worked for him because he realized he was probably covered in sweat and he knew his hair was twisted in all sorts of directions due to the wind outside. He entered the nearest transporter and soon found himself back at his quarters.

He quickly took a shower, letting the hot water slide over his surprisingly not-aching body. Then threw on his normal black BDU's and a matching black t-shirt. He didn't remember any scheduled off-world missions today, which was odd, but he wasn't going to question it.

Glancing at the clock before heading out of the room, John frowned when he saw that it was 7:00 in the morning. Ronon was usually banging on his door much earlier than that or someone was demanding his presence elsewhere. Always something, but not this morning.

Sheppard decided not dwell on it any further and left his room for the second time that morning. There were people walking around now, though all of them were in their own little worlds, reading newspapers or reports. Either way, no one really acknowledge one another, so Sheppard walked by unnoticed. He didn't know where to go first. He thought about stopping by Rodney's lab or maybe the gym, but ultimately decided on the mess hall. He still wasn't hungry, but it felt like the right place to be.

When he went in, he found that it was bustling with the normal early-morning diners. Over in the corner, the two same scientists played their first chess game of the day, no doubt to be followed by another before returning to their daily jobs.

John chuckled and scanned the room for any signs of his team. When his search yielded no results, he found an empty table off to one side, the section that was always glistening with rays from the sun. It was his favorite table, the one he and his team always chose to sit at.

He spotted a lonely newspaper on another empty table and grabbed it before sliding into a seat. It was one that the science team had been producing for a few months now. It wasn't the New York Times, but it would have to be good enough. He looked at the date and knew that it was a least a few days old, but it was better than nothing. It was funny how little things like a daily newspaper could be taken for granted back on Earth.

He sat for a while, reading, expecting someone to come join him. No one did, not for a long time, at least, which made him a little antsy. If he wasn't waking up to Ronon pounding on his door or being paged for one reason or another, then he always found at least one of his teammates in the mess hall.

He sat for a few more minutes and was about to leave when he spotted Teyla and Ronon walking through the door. It took a few minutes for them to make their way to the table, but when they did, it actually left John feeling more uneasy than before they had arrived.

Neither said a word to him, just slipped into the chairs at the opposite end of the table from John. If that wasn't weird enough, John saw troubled looks on both of their faces and was concerned when they continued to sit in silence. The real red flag, however, came when John realized that Ronon didn't have a plate filled with half of the breakfast bar.

John sat and watched them for a few minutes, but when neither one so much as acknowledged his presence, he decided it was time to break the extremely awkward silence.

"Hey, guys," he said uncertainly. No answer. In fact, they didn't so much as flinch. "Uh, hello?" he said a little louder.

"Hellooooo?" Sheppard tried again, waving his hand in front of Ronon's face. Still no reaction at all. "Okay guys, is this some sort of joke?" Not a word, nor a look. "Did I do something wrong? Cuz' if I did, you guys are really being immature about it…"

"I want to go back," Ronon said finally, his voice laced with anger and his eyes narrowed on Teyla. The heated statement shut John's mouth instantly. John wondered what was Ronon talking about, why was he so mad, and why was no one paying an bit of attention to him?

"Ronon," said Teyla, shaking her head slowly, "I know how you feel. I, too, would love to return to Malayka, but we must remain on Atlantis for the time being."

John was standing now, staring at the two.

"I don't care, Teyla. What they did…," said Ronon, his anger level rising every second. "We can't just sit around!" he finished, kicking his chair over as he got to his feet.

"What are you talking about?" John asked, walking over to Ronon. He couldn't imagine what could possibly upset Ronon this much. But he didn't even look at John. Not a glance.

"Ronon!" Teyla said, suddenly standing up and placing her hands on Ronon's shoulders. "Ronon, we must not behave this way! The Malaykans will be punished for their actions, but right now, our priority is being here for John. He needs us."

John froze as a knot grew in his stomach and twisted unbearably. Be here for him? What did that mean?

"What are you talking about, Teyla?" he asked desperately, turning to Teyla, then Ronon, but neither looked his way.

"Someone tell me what he hell is going on!" John shouted, unnerved by the conversation. No one looked up from the their meals. No one looked at him at all. No one even flinched at his outburst.

"Guys… come on!" He yelled and walked around the table and grabbed Teyla's shoulders, but not even this made her react. She didn't even blink. It was like she didn't feel his hands on her shoulders even though John could feel her skin beneath his; it was like he was nothing more than a ghost.

"This can't be happening…," Sheppard said to himself, really beginning to panic. How was this possible? It wasn't. It couldn't be. This was a dream. Yes, it was most certainly a dream, John decided. He had touched Teyla and he had read that newspaper. As the thought of the newspaper raced through his mind, Sheppard had the urge to see it again and turned on his heals to view the spot on the table where he had discarded it. But it wasn't there. Panic filled his body, knowing he had left the newspaper on the table. His eyes searched the room frantically. When he finally spotted the newspaper, he realized that it was in the exact same position it was in before he had touched it. Back on that other vacant table, as though he had never laid his fingers on it.

His eyes darted back to the table, and without thinking, he picked up a chair and threw it across the room and watched as it shattered a nearby glass wall. He looked around desperately, hoping to see a reaction. Someone had to react to that.

Yet, no one did.

Not a single person seemed the least bit interested in the fact that a chair had just been thrown across the mess hall.

When John turned back to the place where the chair had been, he found, to his horror, that the chair was still there, as though it had never been touched. He looked at the recently shattered glass wall and saw that it, too, was not so much as scratched.

It was like everything he did never really happened. It all reversed after he did it and no one even realized it was done in the first place.

As disbelief and confusion wrapped around John like a wet blanket, his heart rate slowed and he entered a surreal existence. He reached out halfheartedly and touched Ronon, and just like his attempt with Teyla, John's hand landed on the Satedan's shoulder, but made no impact on the man. He just kept staring angrily at Teyla, never noticing John standing right beside him.

"We should return to the infirmary," Teyla suggested quietly, and Ronon nodded in agreement. Sheppard watched, in utter shock, as they walked slowly from the mess hall. He didn't follow them at first. He couldn't. He knew that he would learn more if he did, but he wasn't so sure that's what he wanted…

However, after a quick debate with himself, he decided that this since was a dream anyway, he might as well learn where the twisting plot was taking him. He took one last look around the mess hall, then jogged after Ronon and Teyla.

He found them immediately and fell into step with their unnaturally slow pace. He looked back and forth between the two, sometimes reaching out and pushing some random passerby, only to see them regain their balance and walk on like nothing had ever happened. He wanted to hear Ronon and Teyla talk about what was going on; he wanted to know more about what was wrong with him, and he wanted to know now. Dream or not, this whole situation was getting to Sheppard and he didn't like not knowing.

"He didn't even do anything," Ronon said through gritted teeth.

Teyla nodded wearily. "No, he did not."

That was all they said. John assumed Ronon and Teyla were referring to him, but that still didn't tell him a whole lot.

Sheppard continued to follow them, ending up, just as they had said, in the infirmary. It was the last place he wanted to be, but here he was. He followed them in and spotted McKay sitting in a chair on the outside of a closed curtain. McKay's head was rested in his right hand and his eyes stared, unseeing, at the floor.

"Rodney, I'm glad to see you have joined us. John would be pleased to know you came to visit," Teyla greeted softly, watching McKay's melancholy behavior with a certain sadness.

"What's wrong buddy?" John asked, momentarily forgetting his current disability due to the desire to find out what was making McKay this somber. Rodney blinked and did look up, though John figured it was because Teyla had just placed her hand on Rodney's shoulder, not because John had spoken.

"What's going on?" Ronon asked McKay. Excellent question, Sheppard thought.

"Oh, they're just changing… the bandages and stuff," answered Rodney, his hand rubbing his swollen eyelids and shaking his head. "There's… there's a lot, you know, so it may be a little while." John frowned deeply at the look on Rodney's face and the tone of his voice. There was no real sign of the normal McKay in either. It worried John more than what Rodney had actually said. A lot of bandages…

There were still many questions left unanswered, but John had no doubt who was on the other side of the curtain, getting his many bandages changed. It was himself. No, that didn't make sense; how could it? But that was the only explanation given what John had witnessed so far.

Regardless of this revelation, John slowly moved towards the curtain and pulled it back, just so he could see for himself...

TBC...

End note: Hope everyone is enjoying it so far (and understanding. I've found it's kind of difficuly to explain.) I plan on updating every other day, give or take one day. But, the story is finished, I just need some time to make sure everything is the way I want it to be. (If any of you have seen the movie The Invisible, then I'm sure this story sounds very familiar. As you can see, I took the idea from that movie, and placed Shep in it.)