a pocketful of ashes

John runs to the small ship with Dr. Weir and a scientist whose name he doesn't know and an accent hard to determine through the man's panic.

Their new city is sinking, filling up with water and punishing them for their intrusion. John can hear the other scientist, McKay, his voice in their headsets, telling them to get out. John gives himself a second to think about a man about to drown while they try to escape. Just for a second though. Any longer than that and perhaps it won't be so easy to leave.

As they make their escape, he thinks back to the last few days. He thinks about his induction into this strange universe where alien drones chase choppers, chairs provide light shows and magic circles that take you to lost cities.

He thinks about this little box of a ship he's sitting in, this little puddle jumper, as they escape a drowning city, the console lit brightly under fingers that have no idea what they're doing.

In the moment before he dies, he thinks only one thing. It could have been worse. He could have died without knowing about all this.

John's taken away, still dazed and wondering about how the hell he'd been running next to Teyla one moment and the next he was waking up in a dark cell with a couple of Athosians and Sergeant Bates.

The aliens that drag him away have faces that look like the masks the Athosian children play with, only their skin looks so cold that John can feel himself shiver a little, as if icy fingers are stroking his spine.

He's interrogated by a female Wraith, her thoughts more invasive than her words, digging up images of Earth. So he gives her ferris wheels and popcorn. He gives her some speed. Only she wants to know how to get there. She's hungry and he can feel it like it's his own hunger as he sinks to his knees, pulled by the ground, pushed by her will.

He blinks up at her, confused, trying hard to separate where her thoughts merge with his. But she simply strengthens the connection, taking his heart right in her hand.

It's like stepping through a Stargate and never arriving. His breath catches in his chest when she feeds and he knows he'll never breathe again.

When he sees Sumner in the distance, eyes darkened by horror, John blinks at him, eyes wet with involuntary tears, his body only upright because the Wraith is still feeding.

Do it, he asks Sumner. I'd do it for you.

John watches the Wraith from where's he's kneeling on the ground, the bug wrapped around his neck and sending jolts of pain throughout his body.

He tries to control his pain-wracked body as he looks up at the masked face, wondering what the Wraith is waiting for. Why doesn't he just feed? Then he realizes. He' s letting the bug feed. He knows John will die.

John closes his eyes and swallows down the pain, his breathing shallow and his limbs weak. He hears the rustles of leaves and breaking twigs and opens his eyes to see the Wraith turn to go, leaving John at the mercy of the insect.

But he can deal with this. He'll radio Ford and Ford can shoot or cut the damn thing off. He just needs a break. It's all about catching the right breaks.

The Wraith turns back around and slowly aims his stunner at John. Then he fires.

John lands on his back, immobile and unable to feel his body. He can hear the Wraith leaving and he can hear small clicking noises of the bug near his ear.

He hears someone in the distance and tries to open his mouth, tries to yell, but nothing comes out. He can't move or speak. All he can feel is the life being leeched out of his body as he stares up into a bright blue sky with a warm sun.

He knows it'll be too late when they find him.

It's all about catching the right breaks.

Home free, John thinks. He just needs to take out Kolya and they can take their city back. It's almost impossible to do though, with Elizabeth watching him with wide, stunned eyes.

She sees a gun pointed straight at her. She's trying to figure out how far he'll go. John wonders if she even realizes he's trying to save her. He's just waiting for the right moment.

Only, Elizabeth tries to yank away from Kolya and John's so certain she wasn't supposed to do that, that he frowns for a moment, wondering what just happened. But he takes the opportunity and shoots and the bullet hits Kolya as Elizabeth falls to the floor and scrambles away, getting some distance as her captor falls forward on his face.

John runs to Elizabeth, helps her up and asks her if she's okay. She's not, but he tells her she will be.

They turn to leave and four shots ring out in quick succession.

John turns slowly to look at Kolya who is on his knees and pointing a gun, a bloody patch spreading over his stomach. More shots are fired and Kolya's body spasms from the impacts as he falls to the floor.

John is still watching Ford standing there with his P90 aimed at the space where Kolya was kneeling. He coughs and there's something in his mouth, metallic and warm. Confused, he touches his fingers to his mouth and frowns at the blood, wondering why he's falling and why Elizabeth makes a strange stifled sound as she calls for help.

She doesn't let him fall completely to the floor, grabbing him and holding him against her as they go to their knees. She eases him down onto his back slowly, though he must be heavy in her arms. He can feel it, the bullet holes in his back and the blood filling his lungs where there should be air.

“John? Hang on!” Elizabeth orders him, but she should know, he's not good at following orders.

“Elizabeth,” he says, his words feeling like air. “The shield.”

There's a whole lot of commotion around him and as he's lifted and carried to the control room in a haze of flaring pain, he gets a glimpse of Elizabeth's red hands.

There's a lot of shouting and panicking around him, but Rodney's getting the shield up, his voice trembling a little when he asks what the hell is going on. The storm rages above their heads, while people surround him where he lies on the floor, tasting the copper in his mouth, his body cold like he's wearing a suit of ice and Elizabeth holding his hand tight, crushing his fingers, like that can ever stop someone from dying.

It could have been a good day, he thinks. If only he'd shot Kolya five seconds sooner, he would have been through the wormhole and John wouldn't be bleeding to death.

He blinks up at Elizabeth, exhausted from a long day of running and killing. “Sorry,” he says simply.

Then he just closes his eyes, falling asleep before his heart stops.

“So long, Rodney,” John says, knowing what he has to do.

He can hear Rodney calling out behind him, probably wondering if John's lost his mind. Maybe John has lost his mind. You have to be at least a little crazy to be running towards your own death so fast.

But he knows they only have one shot left and so does Elizabeth when she tells him to go.

Flying the jumper away from Atlantis, frankly, he's surprised that he's made it this far because this is one screwed up galaxy. A new and interesting way to die waiting out there every single day.

He's surprised he's not already dead. Or maybe he is dead. Maybe Rodney's little pockets of universes and multi-verses, which he talks about with such glee, all hold the ashes of a John Sheppard that didn't even make it this far.

Maybe that's why it's a surprise to be here at all. A guy can only have so many close calls before it's crunch time.

And that's all he is. Just a guy that happens to be able to make things glow. And now the guy that's going to make sure the Wraith don't get to his city. His people. His planet.

He takes a deep breath that rattles around his lungs for a moment, making his hands shake. He tells Elizabeth that if this works, someone else will have to do this.

What he really hopes is that a last minute miracle will save them. Even as he enters the hive ship, he's waiting for that Hail Mary, but he's in no doubt of what he has to do in the absence of a miracle, not that he's ever believed in them anyway.

When he goes to detonate the bomb, he closes his eyes and sends out his last message for Elizabeth to deliver.

The Daedalus arrives in time to see a fireball with John Sheppard at its heart.

In the only reality of consequence, John Sheppard wakes up shaking because his dreams taste of ashes.

- the end -