Desperation And Death

Author's Note: This is a post Vegas fic. So yes Detective Sheppard lived.

Leaning his head back against the wall, John closed his eyes. He was so tired, it was painful to take another step, but he knew he must. Time was running out. He had to get to...

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember where he was going. It had been a week since he'd come to Atlantis from Earth and his whole life had been turned upside down. Now here he was, lost in an abandoned ruin, running for his life, stalked by who knew how many Wraith.

He had been separated from the rest of the team when a section of the wall collapsed and he'd heard nothing from them since. Even before that, radio contact had been sketchy but once that wall came down, there had been nothing. John knew if Rodney was here he'd be able to explain exactly why, but John really didn't care; he just wanted to go home, home to Atlantis.

It really wouldn't be fair if his life ended here and now, not after surviving a gunshot dangerously close to his heart and the saving of the world from the Wraith invasion.

After Rodney and the other's had discovered him bleeding to death in the desert, John had spent a month or so in the hospital and another in recovery before Rodney had pulled enough strings for him to be reinstated as a Major in the Air Force. Then he'd had to call in a few more favors to get the necessary clearances to go to Atlantis.

This past week had been glorious. For just a moment he thought he'd found a place to belong and be accepted, but now all that would be lost, unless he could get his butt moving and outrun these Wraith.

Straining his ears, John listened for his pursuers but the hallway was silent. Hoping he was making the right choice, he reached for his canteen and took a few sips. Who knew how long he'd be lost in this labyrinth? Next he shoved a third of a power bar into his mouth and chased it with a few more swallows of water. Knowing he'd taken enough time, John pushed himself off the wall, adjusting his grip on his P90 before he started off again hoping to see something familiar.

He took a few more turns, wishing he had some chalk or something to mark his passing. All the walls looked the same and he could have passed this way a thousand times before and never know it.

Then he heard it, the running of feet and he knew that his pursuers had found him. From the sound of their foot falls he tried to gauge if it was just the two Wraith who'd chased him in here or if there were more. Shaking his head, he thought it was just the two of them but wasn't positive.

He checked his gun and saw he had very few round left, maybe twenty or thirty and that was it. He'd already used the rest of his ammunition on the Wraith the first time. So it was now or never.

John had hoped his team would find him, before the pasty faced life suckers did, but now he was out of time. If he made his stand there was a small chance he'd get out of here alive, but only a slim one. It took a lot of bullets to take a Wraith down.

Turning the corner John threw himself against the wall and tried to slow his breathing, knowing that surprise was the only advantage he had.

The footfalls drew closer and closer. John tried to ignore the memories that ran through his mind. If he didn't kill them or himself, he'd end up like those dead bodies in the desert - a shell of the person they once were. John closed his eyes and pushed away the thought.

His 9mm was still there on his hip, it would be so easy to just pull it out... He shook his head! He wouldn't do that, he would not give up now, not after all he'd done and seen. He owed it to the men he'd failed, to live for them.

No, he would see this through. Undoing the clip on his weapon he prepared to meet whatever was coming and face it like the man Rodney saw him to be. John wasn't sure if he was there yet, but he'd made progress.

Then time was up and the Wraith were here. John stepped out from around the corner and began to shoot. In the flashes of light from his bullets John saw with relief there were only two Wraith. Both went down under his bullets but John saw one wasn't dead.

Taking his 9mm, he pointed it at the Wraith. "Is there more of you or are you alone?"

"Ah, John Sheppard, it may be that we were alone or the reinforcements we called might have arrived while we chased you like a rat through this maze. It matters not; your life is ours, I may not be the one to take it but one of us will. You are a marked man, one day your luck will run out-"

Not wanting to hear anymore John shot the Wraith in the head.

Suddenly his radio crackled, and Rodney's voice came in pieces over the radio. "John...there...we... scanner...on the way... help."

He felt a slight smile cross his face and he slipped to the ground. Knowing he was safe now, John checked the wound in his side for the first time in hours. It looked like it had stopped bleeding and now that the Wraith were dead and the others were coming he could let go; they would find him. After all, they always did.