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John wrote his first will when he was 10. His grandfather had just died and after sitting through a horribly boring meeting, John found out that he and his brother were both gifted a huge some of money (in trust, of course) and John himself was set to receive a collection of baseball cards. He traded the cards to his brother for the leather bound, first edition books. His grandfather never could keep the two of them straight.

When he got home from the meeting and had tossed his tie aside before messing up his hair he sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. He quickly detailed his most important personal possessions and gave them to who he thought would appreciate them most.

He changed his mind about his brother getting his autographed football memorabilia when he squealed to their father that John was hiding his peas in the potted plants. The rat was getting nothing now.

He wrote his second will at the insistence of Nancy. Well, actually, she had it written up and he simply signed where she told him too. He left any thing of any real consequence to Nancy and she knew what to leave to everyone else, so he didn't really care.

John revised the will shortly after the divorce and firmed it up while in Iraq. He cut Nancy out completely in this version and, instead, he divided his worldly possessions among his war buddies. He did single out a few items and some cash, for a few specific guys and their kids.

It seemed like the thing to do after all.

John Sheppard rewrote his will while he wasn't sleeping the night before the wraith attacked Atlantis. Most of the guys he had left stuff too in Iraq were dead or no longer speaking to him so there wasn't much point in leaving them anything.

"John?" he turned away from the legal pad he was writing on to see Elizabeth Weir stepping out onto the balcony that was just off the command deck.

"Elizabeth, hey," he said, offering her a tense smile as an invitation to join him. She wandered out slowly onto the balcony and delicately sat down beside him. She offered him a smile in return as she peaked over at what he was writing.

"You're will?" she asked, turning her face up to look at him.

"Yeah well, it kind of seemed like now might be a good time to revise things." They fell into silence for a moment, enjoying a moment of calm before they were sucked back into the mad house of preparations for the attack.

"Yes, it does," she finally said. "I finished mine a few weeks ago," she admitted. They shared another smile before Elizabeth's headset sprang to life and called them back into the city.

"So, did ya leave me anything?" he asked her.

"Did you leave me anything?" she asked him back, cocking her eyebrow slightly before they each went off in separate directions.

John found himself staring at the will he had written that night a few years ago. When Elizabeth had first been injured during the Replicator attack, he was scared he was going to have to revise it and take her out of it, but Keller and McKay worked their (ill advised) magic and brought Elizabeth back to life and he breathed a sigh of relief.

But then she had to go and be all noble as hell and sacrifice herself to Oberoth and his crew so that he, Ronon and McKay could get away. He was certain they'd get her back, of course, but there was still a niggling worry that they wouldn't find her in time.

When they found the replicator versions of themselves, he had felt his heart leap at the chance to finally get the intel they needed to convince Carter, the IOA and who ever else that they could rescue Elizabeth. And then, of course, it all came crashing down when the replicator Elizabeth announced that the real Elizabeth had been killed, according to Oberoth. John didn't hold a whole lot of stock in anything that Oberoth said, but he didn't know what else to do.

So, that night he sat alone in his quarters and rewrote his will once again, this time removing Elizabeth from it. This rewrite was the hardest off all, simply because it meant that he was admitting, to the world, that she was really gone and not coming back.

It was also his admittance that he had failed to protect her.

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