He wasn’t sure when his eyes had opened, but he was pretty sure that they had been for some time. The lights were bright and they burned. He tried to shift, tried to hide his gaze, but found that he couldn’t shift too far – he was restrained. He panicked a bit, whipping his hands up, to find them free.

And then there was a hand . . . a soft hand patting his cheek. “It’s okay, lad . . . easy now. You’re home . . . remember? You made it through.”

John recognized that voice. But really, he didn’t need to have recognized it to want to melt into that comforting touch. Unlike the touches he’d suffered so recently . . . the fist, the knife . . . the uncaring edge of vengeance . . . unlike those touches, this one was soft and warm and gentle. It was like Rodney . . .

“Rodney!” he shouted.

“Calm down, Major. Calm down . . .” Those hands, soothing, warm on the back of his neck.

“But Rodney . . . they took him!”

John could remember, the look of fear in those blue blue eyes as they dragged Rodney away – and the look of apology.

“We know. Major, we know.” Beckett sounded the way John felt – helpless, defeated . . . weak. He was so fucking weak. He couldn’t even push himself off this damn bed . . .

“I have to go to him. You don’t understand! Kolya’s men took him. They took him and . . .”

“Yes, and I’ll radio Lieutenant Parker so you can help with the rescue, but you need to lie still.”

John just struggled harder. He’d lain still . . . he’d fucking lain still and took it when Kolya . . . the knife edge burned, digging deep into him . . . fuck! Kolya’d said he’d kill Rodney if he moved. But now . . . Rodney was in trouble and he wasn’t going to just sit here and take this like a pussy.

“Major! Someone fetch me a sedative!” Beckett was ordering. “Major . . . please . . .” That’s what did it – the plea in Beckett’s voice . . . like it hurt to see . . . like it hurt . . .

Oh god, it did hurt. Why hadn’t he realized this before? Felt the pull, the ache in his back like a knife bearing down, grinding itself into him, but not diving deep enough, receding, advancing, keeping him balanced on that edge where it was enough to scream, but not enough for it all to just wash over him.

John tried to curl himself up into a ball, taking in deep wheezing breaths, but Beckett’s hand on his neck and arm stopped him. “Calm down, Major. Are you calm? Or am I going to have to sedate you?”

John shook his head into the pillow, not letting Beckett see the tears that were brimming on the edges of his eyes. If he let Beckett sedate him, he wouldn’t be able to find Rodney. He forced all his muscles to unclench . . . feeling Beckett’s grip relax, though he kept a hand on the back of John’s neck, stroking his head slowly, calmingly. John sighed.

“Fill me in, Doc.”

“Well . . . you were brought in with multiple lacerations on your back and sides. We gave you blood transfusions, antibiotics, fluids. You’ve been stitched up. Dr. Biro tells me she did around . . .”

John forced his heart to stop beating frantically. He knew about his own injuries. He’d felt every fucking one of those lacerations. He’d felt them deeper than Beckett could ever understand. “No . . .” he panted, “with Kolya.”

Beckett’s voice was tight . . . uncertain. “He’s in the holding cell. Lieutenant Parker is speaking with him now.”

Parker? What the hell was Parker doing on this? She was supposed to be on keep-people-from-killing-Kavanagh duty, at which she seemed uniquely talented. “Where the hell is Ford?”

“Lieutenant Ford is currently off-world. He went with Zelenka to try to track you down.”

“Oh . . . thank god.” Ford was on the job. Ford was a good kid. He’d find Rodney. “You should get someone . . . get someone to check where I gated in from.” Everything was blurry – sounds had to work hard to break through the pain that underwrote everything.

“Don’t worry yourself, lad. Lieutenant Ford is already there.”

“Rodney?”

John didn’t need to roll over to know that Beckett was shaking his head. He could tell by sad comforting way he was stroking John’s hair. “I’m sorry. I wish I could . . .”

“No. We have to find him . . . Kolya knows where they took him.” John tried to push himself up again, ignoring the pull on his raw back. “I have to talk to him.”

“No, you bloody well do not. Major, I know your cuts weren’t very deep, but you lost a lot of blood and you cannot be without medical supervision right now. Do ya hear me?”

John wanted . . . he needed . . . he had to . . . there was nowhere for this rage to go, nothing here but Beckett’s large comforting hands and the sound of monitor screaming out his heart rate. He could hear the rage, like a roar in the distance, flowing in and around, coating, covering him, flooding him, draining him dry. Kolya had Rodney. Who knew what was happening to him at this very moment?

He felt the blade dig deeper, cutting through, carving guilt into his flesh the way their ancestors used to carve gods and idols in wood. It sank in deep and it twisted.

“I need to talk to him, Beckett. You have to let me. You know how much this means to me.” And Beckett was the only one he knew. He was the only one that could tell John Sheppard’s dirty little secret . . . his sweet little weakness. And now, like the knife blade turning, that weakness was flaying him where he lay.

“Aye, I do know, John.” And Beckett had the nerve to try to be sympathetic . . . next thing he knew the guy would be telling him that he understood. As though he could. “But I cannot let you. Lieutenant Parker will here soon and you can tell her what needs to be done.” Beckett sighed, hands resuming their soft petting. “Look, I don’t care what she says. I’m going to give you a little something now . . . just to manage the pain. You’ll be able to speak with her just fine . . . calmly.” Just for the pain, his ass.

John didn’t even feel the nurse inject something new into his IV port. The rage was too consuming . . . too blinding. He’d find Rodney. Whatever it took.

The commander was lucky that Teyla did not knock him unconscious the second he stuck his head through the door. Her body thrilled, adrenaline still coursing through it. Forced to stillness for so long in Dr. Weir’s arms, Teyla felt her body quake – too much pent up emotion, too much need. Need for what, she did not know.

She stood, pacing the tent as Sheran tried to explain. Dr. Weir was sitting down at a table, hair mussed, eyes downcast. Someone had found her a blanket to wrap herself in, but it had fallen loosely around her shoulders. Dr. Weir was a strong woman. She didn’t want petty comforts. She wanted reasons. If it was a problem she could tackle intellectually, she would.

“We’re very sorry, Dr. Weir. As you can see, we’re in the middle of a war. It is not traditional for us to keep women in the camps for this very reason. The Magi . . . they are animal. Their desires . . . they are the basest of the base.”

Except animals did not say, ‘I’m sorry.’ Even the Wraith felt no guilt, no vengeance. Teyla heard the man’s voice in her head, echoing, as shimmering and metallic as the sounds of culling beams and ancient shields. It was something she’d heard before in Major Sheppard’s voice . . . in Dr. Weir’s.

She heard it in the commander’s voice now. “You must accept my full apologies, Dr. Weir. We tried our hardest to protect you . . . men died . . .”

Teyla stopped her restless pacing, closing her eyes in brief respect for those that did . . . and all for nothing.

“You must understand, Dr. Weir. The enemy is strong . . . the Magi . . .”

“It was an ordinary human being!” Weir snapped, standing suddenly. This was the loudest she had spoken since they were pulled from that hole. “It wasn’t base or animal. It was human!” Teyla felt sorry for Dr. Weir if that was truly what she thought of mankind.

But Teyla had to agree. This man . . . the man in the ridiculous black suit, was not a completely exceptional fighter. How had he gotten through a whole camp of enemy soldiers? Teyla did not see the bodies of any other men like him. How were they supposed to believe in this great enemy – necessitating whole battalions, when the only enemy soldier they had seen had proven to be unexceptional.

She stalked up to the commander, jaw set. “How are we to know that you speak the truth? I killed him.” She had believed in his magic . . . she had been cornered . . . Dr. Weir . . . she’d had no choice, but somehow she’d imagined that he would not end up . . . he would not be an unmoving body bleeding into the already blood-soaked earth. There was no magic in this.

Teyla whirled around, refusing to let the tears of rage spill. She had killed. She had killed another human being . . . another soul preyed upon by the Wraith . . . another being that wanted safety and love and comfort, nothing more.

But she would be strong. She would not let these people see her ugliness . . . her shame.

“And you are lucky that you survived. You must be a truly gifted soldier to take on a Magi. Unless, of course, you are yourself a Magi.”

Teyla felt the commander rise . . . saw the guards advancing on her, inch by inch, but from all around.

“Teyla!” Dr. Weir shouted.

But by then, they were already upon her. She landed a blow to the head on the first one, knocking him unconscious. She flipped another over her shoulder . . . got one in the delicate kneecap. But there were ultimately too many. Teyla yelled, but refused to scream as they pinned her.

“Stop!” Dr. Weir was screaming, but then Sheran had a hand clasped around her neck.

“It’s just a little test,” he said placatingly, even as Teyla struggled. “It won’t hurt. I promise.”

Then a guard was approaching, holding something in his hands. Teyla kicked out, knocking it away. But it was useless. He went to dutifully pick it up, her captor’s griping tighter as he approached her. And then they were forcing something into her hands . . . cold and smooth and hard . . .

A lifesigns detector, the screen dark.

Teyla stopped struggling.

Kolya wasn’t going to say anything. Annie ran her hands through her hair, finally giving up on her ponytail. What did it matter now, anyway? She was back on base. She was tired, frustrated . . . she still hadn’t eaten. And they weren’t making progress. Kolya wouldn’t say a word to Bates, and he just jerked her around with no real intention of giving her anything.

Maybe Sergeant Bates was right. Maybe it was time to move to more drastic measures. Fuck the Geneva Convention. That was clearly what Bates wanted to do and Annie was beginning to agree. After what the man had done to Major Sheppard, he didn’t deserve any rights.

Maybe if she headed out to one of the balconies . . . got some fresh air, maybe grabbed a hot meal on the way. She wished Aiden were here. Not because he’d necessarily know what to do, but because he’d stand by her. She just felt . . . so alone.

Then her radio crackled to life. Beckett’s thick brogue. “Lieutenant Parker?”

“Go ahead, Doctor.”

“Major Sheppard is awake. And he’s . . . er . . . very eager to speak with you. So if you would be so kind . . .”

“On my way.”

Well, at least with the major awake, she’d have direction . . . someone to tell her what to do. Annie used to think of herself as an independent person – independent enough to go get a job of her own, fight for herself, take care of herself. But when it came to situations like these, she was desperate for an order to follow, for some sort of code of justice handed down from on high or just written by wiser souls than she.

She forced herself not to run for the nearest transporter. She needed to think. She needed to explain the situation to Major Sheppard. She needed to be cool-headed and calm.

“Doctor?” she asked, arriving at the infirmary.

Beckett met her in entranceway, leading her back to a curtained off area, whispering under his breath. “Now, he’s been a little agitated – very worried about Rodney. I had to give him a little something.” He held up his hands placatingly. “It’s just to calm him a bit, manage the pain. He’s still lucid enough to help you.”

Annie shot him a glare. ‘Lucid enough’ was not what she was looking for.

She stepped around the curtain. Sheppard was lying on his stomach, watching her with a calculating gaze. He didn’t look drugged. His eyes were clear and determined.

“Hello, Sir.”

“Lieutenant.” His voice was tight. Annie couldn’t tell if it was frustrated or panicked or just pained.

She had this ridiculous urge to reach out and clasp his hand, to stroke a hand through his hair like he was a sick child. Major Sheppard always looked so young, like he needed protecting, even when she was well aware that he didn’t. But what they’d done to him . . . but then again she was sure that the last thing Major Sheppard needed was her pity.

She cleared her throat. “Lieutenant Ford has reported back from the planet where it seems you were held captive. Their search of the village turned up negative. He would like Dr. Zelenka to determine the last dialed address, but I would caution . . .”

“Tell Lieutenant Ford to do whatever he needs to do,” Sheppard grunted, a coldness in his voice that Annie had never heard before. He was usually so laid back.

She probably should have questioned his order. But then again, this was his team out there. And it was Aiden. It wasn’t like Aiden was going to go burn down a village or something because Sheppard told him to get the job done.

So, instead of an objection, she said, “Yes, Sir.”

“By whatever he needs to do, you mean . . .” Beckett interrupted.

Sheppard couldn’t really see him from his position, so he barked. “I didn’t ask your opinion, Doctor.”

“Well, yes, right, I’ll be seeing to my other patients then,” Beckett mumbled, intimidated. Annie, too, would have been intimidated by that tone of voice.

The second Beckett had gone, Sheppard started trying to push himself off the hospital bed.

Annie immediately rushed forward to . . . to do what? She had no idea whether or not she should be pushing him back down or helping. This wasn’t something they went over at the Academy.

“Uh . . . Sir . . . I’m not sure you should be doing that quite yet.”

“I need to get in there. Who knows what those men could be doing to Rodney?” Sheppard was wincing, sweat dripping down his forehead with the effort. Annie finally landed on the side of help, if only because he’d hurt himself less if he could get to a sitting position.

“We have the interrogation under control, Sir. You need to rest.”

“If it’s under control, then where’s Rodney?” For some reason this surprised her. She’d known Sheppard to be sarcastic. She’d heard him question his subordinates tons of times. But he’d never sounded so condescending . . . at least not to her.

“He’s . . . well, we haven’t found that out yet. But we are mostly certain that he doesn’t have Teyla or Dr. Weir.”

“I knew that, Lieutenant.”

“They still haven’t returned.”

“Well, we’ll worry about them later, when we have a clue where to start. Right now, I’m concerned about Rodney and what I know Kolya’s men will do to him. Now, hand me those scrub bottoms.”

“You’re not going to . . .”

“Fine. I’ll get them myself.” Sheppard reached out, wincing horribly.

Annie couldn’t stand to see that look of pain on his face. She fetched the scrub bottoms, wishing Beckett would get in here and stop him. Sure, she could do it, but he was her CO and Dr. McKay was in enemy hands and Sheppard was too damningly right – the interrogation was going nowhere without him.

“Sir. You can’t go see the prisoner this way.” He was going to conduct an interrogation in red scrubs and an open-backed hospital gown? She could already see the red stain of blood on the edge of the bandages where they peeked through the back of it.

“Kolya’s not paying for classy treatment. Trust me, Lieutenant. I don’t need a fancy suit to be intimidating.”

That wasn’t reassuring in the least.

“Sir, Beckett’s going to . . .”

“Lieutenant. You and I both know what needs to happen here. I’m not sure you understand how much danger Rodney’s in, but I’m hoping that you won’t make me order you.”

Maybe there was another way, but if there was, Annie couldn’t find it right now. She didn’t want to go back in there with that disgusting man – the man that’d done this to Sheppard. She admired her CO’s strength, the fact that he could.

“You don’t have to order me, Sir.”

She ducked her head, yanking the scrub bottoms out of Sheppard’s hands and helping him pull them on. There was a time when she might’ve been distracted by the toned calves and the narrow hips and the fact that he didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath the hospital gown. But not here . . . like this she could only see the look of desperation in his eyes – the little boy, lost.

It wasn’t long before he was on his feet. She made to lead him out of there, but he pushed her away, clasping her arm hard at the same time. “Go to the Control Room, Parker. Make sure that Ford has everything under control.”

“But, Sir. No offense, but you not in any condition to go alone . . .”

Sheppard’s grip on her arm tightened, his eyes shadowy and dark, pupils dilated. “Look, Parker, it could get pretty nasty in there. I just . . . I just don’t want to put you through that.”

“Put me through what, Sir?” Annie said, jaw tightening. Whatever it was Sheppard planned to do could never be worse than the things she’d seen. Her brother . . . oh god, the things . . . the things he’d done before they locked him up. If Sheppard knew even the half of it . . . .

“I’d give almost anything not to have seen some of the things I’ve seen, Parker. Consider yourself lucky.”

And with that, he was walking around the curtain and out of there.

Annie could’ve stopped him, but instead she collapsed back onto the infirmary bed with a sigh. What she wouldn’t give to unsee some of the things she’d seen . . . maybe to not add another to the list really was for the best.

She didn’t know how long she’d sat in silent contemplation when Beckett burst through the curtain, chart in hand.

“Where’d he go?” Beckett squeaked, lowering his electronic clipboard.

“Holding cells.”

Beckett huffed, looking madder than Annie had ever seen the mild-mannered physician. “You let him walk out of here?! Are you bloody insane? You . . . Major Sheppard is in no condition to . . . you have to find him, Lieutenant. I’m serious, if we don’t get him back here . . .”

“He ordered . . .” Well, not technically, but he would’ve.

“I don’t bloody well care what he ordered. He’s liable to collapse where he stands. You cannot just put him in a room with the bastard sick enough to do this to him in the first place. Now, on anything medical, I outrank him. And I’m ordering you to go down there and . . . and you bring him back here! You understand me, lass? We’re talking about the major’s life here.”

Annie nodded, walking quickly out of the infirmary.

But the second she was outside it’s doors, she slowed. Sheppard was truly the only one who had a chance in hell of getting anything out of Kolya. If Beckett were that concerned, he would’ve sent a med team or gone himself. And if Sheppard got into trouble, Bates was there.

They needed answers. She could give the major a few minutes to get them.