[John laughs for what feels like the first time in a long time. He doesn't realize how badly he needed to laugh until his head is buzzing with it, a weight lifting from his chest.

Life still sucks, trauma is still trauma, but for a brief moment, there was light. John holds onto it. Knows better than to let those moments slip away when they're so few and far between.]

Name's John. Sheppard if you've got a thing for Little Bo-Peep.

Lieutenant Colonel if you collect dog-tags.

[And he doesn't mean from fallen soldiers.]

So, Mr. Stark, what do you do around here? Other than get drunk in high places with strangers.