The Astonishing Persistence Of Memory: Present Tense

Part Three

Chapter Eleven

The sky over the sea was streaked with pale blue when John dumped his duffel at the foot of the bed and sat down to wait for the sunrise.

After the previous night's stress and action, the predawn calm was a relief.

John took full advantage of it, resting his elbows lightly on his knees and folding his fingers over each other, human fingers over Iratus, as he watched the sky brighten by degrees.

He hadn't complained when Edwards assigned him a dawn departure. Every moment more he could have in the city was precious. Of course, he would rather have spent it with his team-mates, but they'd needed their sleep and he wasn't going to disturb that just because he wanted their company.

Heat exhaustion had Teyla out for the count, and while Ronon refused a bed, he was apparently willing to snooze in the chair beside her in the infirmary. Strictly speaking, Teyla probably could have gone back to her own rooms, but Ronon had brought her to the infirmary and she'd flaked out mere minutes after her treatment.

Ronon hadn't been too far behind.

Rodney had tried to check that everything in the city was working before his stimulants gave out almost between one sentence and the next. He slumbered noisily on the stretcher bed in his lab that was kept for this very purpose. Zelenka, at least, had possessed the sense to find his own bed before his eyes sealed shut and had even come by to reassure John that Rodney was well and all systems were stable.

John would have been more worried if Carson hadn't indicated that he'd expected everyone to sleep a lot in the aftermath of the move.

"Frankly, Colonel, I'm surprised more of the city doesn't resemble the walking dead after the last few days. We're doing pretty well, all things considered."

All things considered.

Keller said Elizabeth had been lucky. She'd been on her way down the stairs to the landing when the communications antenna slammed through the window and half taken her out with it. Scratches, scrapes, and a slice across her thigh. She'd walk with a limp, but at least she'd be walking. Edwards' actions on the scene had been timely – according to Rodney, he'd been the one to staunch the bleeding first. To give the Colonel his due, he'd started the clean-up efforts even as John brought the city down, held everyone together, and kept command of the situation.

The infirmary had been busy with people – mostly cuts and scrapes – and John had argued hard to be allowed to look in on Teyla, although Keller had warned him about waking her.

He'd gone with the marines still tailing him, he'd seen her with his own eyes, and he'd come back to his rooms to wait for the morning.

It was morning now.

John clenched his fingers into a fist, shaking slightly with tension – the tension of the last week, of the last day, of the morning.

Atlantis had made it. They'd all made it. And now John would leave Atlantis.

He let the fist go and looked up, out past the dark shadows of the lower spires that the window towards the sea where the horizon sat. Pale as mist, the blue edges blurred to a haze of gold as the sky began to burn with the rising sun.

His time was running out.

John wondered if he should go see if Elizabeth was doing okay after her surgery. He could go past Rodney's lab and see if his friend could be woken up long enough to say goodbye. Maybe he could check in with Ronon by Teyla's bedside, and wait until her lashes lifted over eyes that understood too much and not enough.

Maybe rest his head beside her hand and walk into the room in Antarctica. Claim a kiss for the road?

Too tacky.

Either way, John knew that if he went to see them now, he wouldn't be able to leave.

His gut twisted as the first rays of light speared over the horizon, touching the tip of one of the taller outermost spires of the city, turning dark grey to silver incandescence as the sun pushed back the night and brought the new day with its rising.

John closed his eyes against the tide of golden sunlight that crept down across his forehead to warm his face and body.

Around him, the city glowed with the first burnishing heat of the morning sun, cold metal steaming gently in the light. On the edge of his awareness, the city stretched like someone just woken, rising and shining with the new day.

His last morning in Atlantis.

He took a long breath deep into his lungs – sea air, brine, and the fresh scent of the dawn – held it, let it out. And his doorbell chimed.

The duffel weighed heavy on his shoulder as he went to answer the door. He was going to start off light and if he needed anything, he'd call back to the city and ask for it. Not too difficult to do.

The doorbell chimed again, and he rolled his eyes. "Jeeze, Rodney, a bit of patience?"

But when the doors slid back, Elizabeth sat in a wheelchair, an Athosian blanket wrapped over her knees, and Ronon at her back. "I was just about to send Ronon in."

"Should you be out of the infirmary yet?"

"No." She grinned, although she looked exhausted. "But I promised to be a model patient if they let me out for this. And Ronon was good enough to offer to accompany me."

"She made it an order." Ronon shrugged, grinning.

It was John's turn to snort and shake his head as he moved out into the corridor and the door slid shut behind him. "You're my farewell party?"

"The others are already at the 'jumper bay." Elizabeth glanced up at Ronon. "We should hurry up, too."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"Well, you have been trouble almost all the way, John." Her smile took the sting out of her words, though, and the fact that she'd probably argued Keller into letting her out of the infirmary did a lot to comfort him about her state of mind.

"Uh, yeah. About that leg..."

Ronon made a noise halfway between a grunt and a snort. "Told you."

"It could have happened any number of ways, John." She seemed calm about it. Too calm. "It's not your fault. And, even if it was, it was an accident. Besides," she added, "you've given me headaches before that were worse than this."

John judged that she was probably still hopped up on painkillers for this, and hoped that Carson and Keller would take good care of her. He'd mention it to Teyla and Ronon on his way out – keep an eye on Elizabeth so she didn't wear herself out too soon.

They moved through the city, tailed by his ubiquitous Marines. John figured that, if nothing else, he'd be glad to get out of the city just so he didn't have them following him around everywhere.

Not exactly the most positive thought.

They didn't speak on their way to the transporters, although John could hear someone talking in the Marines' earpieces, and one of the wheels on Elizabeth's chair squeaked when they turned a corner. Privately, John was glad they let him be silent. He wasn't sure he could cope with conversation right now. The light on this planet was subtly different to that on Old Lantea, but the sense of the city, the sense of being home would be the same, whether John came back tomorrow or in forty thousand years.

He'd be back. He promised both the city and himself.

He would come back.

Colonel Edwards was waiting for them at the transporter. His arm was in a sling and there were some superficial cuts on his face, but his thin, pinched face looked unusually beneficent.

"Sheppard."

"Edwards." John didn't feel like giving the man any more acknowledgement than that.

"Dr. Weir, Ronon."

Ronon grunted, and John had the satisfaction of seeing Edwards' expression twitch with annoyance as they crowded into the transporter. Small things, perhaps, but things all the same.

Elizabeth was more vocal. "Colonel Edwards. How unusual to see you up at this hour."

"It's unusual circumstances. You shouldn't be out."

"I make a persuasive case. And I wished to see the Colonel off."

John let them talk, only answering questions if he was directly asked. Where he was going. What his plans were for the next week. How often he'd be calling in to Atlantis.

Trust Edwards to spoil his departure.

There were few people about the city at this hour; the personnel who'd come with the city were probably still asleep, while the personnel who'd been evacuated had been contacted to let them know that everything had gone okay. John figured someone would have already calibrated the Stargate to send off a quick message to Earth and probably the Daedalus, too.

John didn't ask where Teyla was, where Rodney was. He wasn't sure he could get the question out of his throat, parched as a rocky river bed in Diyala province. He just walked.

They reached the 'jumper bay too soon for his liking. And as he stepped inside, John saw that someone had opened up the ceiling, and the pale light of morning poured into the enclosed space from the clear sky above, pearl rose and dusky blue.

Beneath that light, the figures milling around the prepped 'jumper were distinct, even in their shadows, as were the duffels that rested on the floor at their feet. A third duffel sat nearby, unattended, the buckling and strapping on it distinctly Satedan.

It took John four steps into the room to realise what the duffels meant.

It took Edwards only two. "What is going on here? Dr. Weir?"

"Dr. McKay, Teyla, and Ronon requested permission to join Colonel Sheppard while Atlantis seeks a solution to his condition. I've authorised it."

"You authorised it?"

John barely heard what Edwards was saying to Elizabeth; he was focused on his team-mates.

Rodney had his feet planted and his arms folded, as though expecting a fight. Or maybe he was just grumpy at having to wake up so early. "You couldn't have chosen a reasonable hour to leave, like, oh, say, midafternoon?"

Yeah, grumpy. John would have grinned if it wasn't so serious.

"You guys can't do this."

Ronon paused behind his duffel and turned to Teyla with a grin. "Told you."

Teyla smirked at him, as Rodney rolled his eyes. "Oh, and you really think we're going to let you go off and face the Wraith without us? I mean, a second time?"

Sharp steps rang behind John. "You really think that you can breach the terms of your employment so flagrantly, Dr. McKay?"

"With permission from the expedition leader," said Rodney. "Yes. Look, there's nothing – almost nothing – that Radek can't do here in Atlantis. He knows, oh, about eighty percent of what I know and that's most of the common stuff. It'll take him twice as long and it won't be half as good, but he can do it. And if you need me, you know where to find me."

And this is more important.

Rodney didn't say the words – nobody did. But John heard them all the same: heard them from Rodney, heard them from Elizabeth, heard them from Ronon, heard them from Teyla.

John felt those words wind something around his chest, squeezing hard, and struggled to breathe through the wash of it.

The soft roll of wheels heralded Elizabeth's arrival at the edge of the scene, gently propelled by Lorne. The major nodded briefly at John, but otherwise didn't say anything as Elizabeth spoke. "I left a message to be included with this morning's contact package for Earth. Dr. Kusanagi compressed it, and Chuck said it sent through fine this morning.

"Like Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay has permission for a three month leave-of-absence, so long as he's willing to come back for consulting purposes."

"This is reckless endangerment of Atlantis!" Edwards' voice had risen. "Even individually, Colonel Sheppard has knowledge that the Wraith would find invaluable. With the addition of Dr. McKay, that knowledge – that risk – doubles!"

"Oh please. Doubles? Triples, at least." Rodney turned to John, who was finding himself hard-pressed not to grin at the display of essential McKay arrogance. "Are we going to get a move on or are we going to stand here yapping about endangerment?"

"You take this lightly, Dr. McKay, but the safety of Earth – of your sister and your niece, if that means anything to you – is at stake!"

"Given our experience as a team in the time before your coming to Atlantis, Colonel Edwards, I should say that Colonel Sheppard's chances of successfully evading the Wraith are greater with us than without." Teyla didn't raise her voice, but her words somehow rang through the 'jumper bay.

And before that stubborn loyalty and the knowledge that his friends wouldn't let him do this alone – the knowledge of what they were giving up for him – John felt humbled.

"Colonel, I wouldn't have allowed them to go with John if I hadn't thought they'd do better together - if I didn't think they'd survive. If they wish to come back at any stage, that's acceptable, too. They've instructions to keep an eye out in Pegasus– their finger on the pulse of things." Elizabeth flashed a smile at John and his team. "Now, we should let them leave and get on with their day – and ours. We've got a lot of cleaning up and sorting out to do."

Rodney seemed to take that as marching orders. Ronon certainly did, scooping up his duffel and striding into the 'jumper. In the corner of his eye, John saw Teyla hesitate, but then she was gone, too.

He turned to go.

"Atlantis detachment!" Lorne's voice rang out. "Attention!"

They saluted him, hands at their foreheads. And John saluted them back – not his to look after anymore, but still his all the same. He looked Lorne in the eye, knowing the other man understood what he didn't say. Look after them, Major. Edwards would look out for himself and Earth; Lorne would have to be the brakes on that – and the support for Elizabeth. John hoped the guy was up to the job.

Then he turned around and walked into the 'jumper where Rodney was grumbling as he moved his stuff from the front passenger seat.

"You insist when you call shotgun." Ronon was stretched out in the seat behind John's, his long legs tucked beneath the pilot's chair.

"Yeah, but that's usually because I've got something important to do. Not just because I want the seat with the best view!"

John slipped past Teyla where she was settling herself into the passenger seat, not touching her, just close enough to smell her. They'd have to talk about what had happened the other night; have to make sure that she was okay with what she'd thought would be temporary becoming more. If she wanted him.

If she didn't...

The Iratus hunger rose in him briefly, before he yanked it back. He wouldn't go there as long as he had the will to resist. John had his team-mates. That was enough for now.

Habit prompted the pre-flight check. Teyla was looking over a list that someone had left on the dashboard – supplies and trading goods, he supposed. In the back of the 'jumper, the bickering was growing annoying.

"Am I going to have to separate you two?" Teyla asked without looking up.

"He started it!" Was it scary that Rodney only had to whine a little harder to sound like a sullen eight year old?

"I'll turn this 'jumper right around..." John threatened as he powered up. His hand hovered over the door mechanism and he turned to look at his team, no longer joking. "Last chance to make a break for it."

In their opinions, that didn't even require an answer. John got a set of flat stares before Rodney rolled his eyes. "Shut the damn door, Sheppard!"

"You guys are crazy."

Ronon folded his arms. "Are we there yet?"

Teyla laughed, a burst of joyous freedom that mirrored that which unfolded in John's throat. He focused on getting the 'jumper airborne before he contacted the Control room. "This is Sheppard. We're ready to go."

"Copy that, sir. Opening 'jumper bay doors. You're cleared for P3G-242 and the Pegasus Galaxy. Good luck, sir."

"Thanks, Campbell."

John turned the 'jumper slowly around as they floated down into the Gateroom, taking a long last look at it – at the morning sunlight streaming through the jagged-edged landing windows, at the pillars and spires he momentarily glimpsed beyond, at the blue sky and the bluer sea.

His city. His home. He'd be back, someday.

Then they were facing the open Gate, ready to head out.

John glanced at his team – his team. "Ready?"

"To infinity, and beyond!"

"Who showed you Toy Story?!"

"We are ready, John. Let us go."

They soared through the Stargate, out into a galaxy of possibilities.

- fin -

FINAL NOTES: Thank you so much for making this journey with me! Here ends Book II of the trilogy. I hope to write the sequel and finale to the first two chapters (Past Time, and Present Tense) sometime during 2010 - keep an eye out for Future Indefinite, in which John and his team move through a galaxy where the Wraith are constantly watching them. We'll see how time and fannish enthusiasm allows for the continuation of the story. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this story and the others that I've written over the years.

Thank you to all my regular supporters, and most particularly to the handful of people who repeatedly and dedicatedly leave feedback on my works - whether praise or concrit. You're the best, and I keep writing fanfic because of you!