Annie sat down on her bed sullenly. She was so wrong . . . so fucking wrong. How she could’ve let him trick her . . . how she could’ve been so weak . . . . She really was the dumb little c-nt her father had called her, that the marines called her behind her back.

She had felt sorry for him. She’d felt sorry for a fucking cold-blooded killer. She knew all the things he’d done. She knew he was an evil man. And even if he didn’t deserve what Sheppard had done to him – he didn’t deserve to walk free either. He didn’t fucking deserve her pity. He’d done nothing to earn it.

But he’d won it nonetheless. He’d won it because she’d let it get to her. She’d let those memories take control just like she’d promised herself she wouldn’t.

“Shit!” she screamed, throwing one of her pillows across the room and into the door. This wasn’t fair. She couldn’t do anything to change what she’d done. She couldn’t do anything about it. Bates had already erased the video feed the second he’d come to. If she told anybody, she’d have to tell them why. And she’d promised. She’d promised Major Sheppard that she wouldn’t.

Annie pulled her knees up, leaning back against the headboard in the dark. She could keep this secret. It was in the past.

She had almost dozed off when she heard a knock on the door. She stood to open it, not caring that she was braless and in her sweats and a tank-top.

Luckily, it was only Aiden.

“Annie?” He sounded tired, worried.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

She stepped aside. “Of course you can.” He always asked. Even after they’d been lovers, he still asked.

The second the door was closed behind him, he stepped forward to embrace her, squeezing her tight. “I heard what happened. Are you all right?”

She let out a deep sigh. She couldn’t tell him. Not even Aiden could know. “I’m fine. A few bruises . . . pride included.”

Bates had told her to say that Kolya faked some sort of injury . . . that the blood they found in the cell was from throwing himself up against the force field. She opened the door to help him and he took her hostage. Bates said that it wasn’t much different – she was still weak enough to fall prey to her own compassion.

Aiden tightened his embrace, kissing her on the forehead. “Hey, you were being merciful. There’s no shame in that.” Maybe. But then again, maybe if Aiden knew the whole story, he wouldn’t be so forgiving.

“Yes, it only gets you taken hostage by some sadistic asshole who . . .” she thought of Kolya’s hands around her, of his lips on her cheek. He’d let her go. She’d been stupid, but in the end, he’d shown humanity as well. It made him harder to hate.

“That bastard!” he paused for a moment, seemingly ashamed. “He didn’t . . . well, you know . . . he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Annie laughed, touched by Aiden’s concern. “I already told you. I’m fine.” He didn’t hurt her anywhere that showed.

“Good,” he said, running fingers through her hair, leaning down to nibble on her neck.

Part of her didn’t want any part of this. Part of her knew that it was just as wrong as it always was, that they were playing with fire - serious enough to hurt one another but never serious enough to make it worth the risk.

But then there was the other part – the part just wanted to forget Kolya’s hands on her, his sneering laugh, Bates’ smug superiority as he submitted to hide why she’d done what she’d done.

She pulled Aiden to her, back onto the bed, already spreading her legs like the weak woman that she was. She couldn’t even make a stand against her own need.

Aiden’s lips were swift and sure against hers, his hands warm and comforting, the way he looked and touched and felt was all so amazing. He worshiped her like no one else ever had. He made her feel special when all she could see was shame. If she were really a horrible person, he wouldn’t be able to look at her like that. Someone like Aiden, so sweet and caring and pure, wouldn’t be able to touch her if she were really disgusting as she felt.

She didn’t come. But Aiden did, and he believed she had, which was as perfect as she could hope. It was just another secret.

He dozed lightly as she rested her head against his shoulder, thinking of all the things she should have done, but not finding one that she would have.

She didn’t know whether it was minutes or hours before Aiden woke from his light slumber, but she wasn’t ready for what he had to say when he did.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked casually.

“Things.”

“What kind of things?”

“I guess it’s just my nature to keep going over it in my head. That’s all.” She shrugged, shivering and pulling the sheet up tighter around herself.

“I know what you mean. I keep thinking about . . . never mind.”

Annie turned herself a little so she could look him in the eyes. In the shadows of her quarters, they were jet-black and haunting. “You can tell me, Aiden. You can trust me.” She felt so hypocritical, asking him to reveal himself to her when she couldn’t tell him. But then again, perhaps it was a gift, giving him the freedom to speak.

Aiden cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Do you think Major Sheppard might be . . . that he might be . . . uh . . . you know, gay?”

Annie froze. Aiden couldn’t know. Bates wouldn’t have told him, would he? She knew that they’d gotten to know each other serving under Sumner, but she didn’t think they were all that pally.

“What happened to ‘don’t tell?’” she whispered.

Aiden shrugged against her. “I didn’t ask and I’m not going to. Zelenka told me . . . he said that he and McKay . . . but that can’t be right. Can it? I mean . . . I’m on their team. I have to like sleep in tents with them and stuff. They couldn’t be . . . I mean, Major Sheppard’s not like The Rock or anything, but he’s tough. He doesn’t back down, you know? He’s cool.”

Annie sat up, ignoring the draft against her bare skin as the sheet fell down around her. “What does that have to do with it?”

“I’m not . . . I mean. I’m not like homophobic or anything, but I just wouldn’t have figured Major Sheppard for . . . And not with Dr. McKay. Sorry, I know that you’ve got to deal with Kavanagh every day so it doesn’t exactly compare, but he’s so annoying. I could believe it of McKay with all the hand waving and the panicking, but Sheppard? I just . . . I guess you can never tell, you know?”

“Yeah. You can never tell.”

There was a lot you couldn’t tell about people until they were pushed to their limits. There was a lot you couldn’t tell about yourself.

Teyla came awake with a start, sitting up to feel hands on her. She pushed them off, scrambled away. This was a nightmare she’d always had. She’d wake up with hands on her - cold hands like these all over her, ready to draw the life from her.

But then her vision cleared and she was backed into a corner, facing Elizabeth’s frightened eyes.

“Teyla . . .”

Teyla forced her breathing to calm. “Elizabeth.” She took the time to examine their surroundings. It appeared to be . . . the back of a Puddle Jumper? “Where are we?”

Elizabeth took in a deep breath. “We were captured by the Magi.”

Teyla was on her feet, ready to fight.

Elizabeth reached out a calming hand. “It’s okay, Teyla. Whatever they may have done, I don’t believe they’ll harm us.”

Teyla relaxed a little. “You are sure?”

“Yes, Teyla. I’m sure.”

Teyla did not sit back down, but she lowered her hands from fighting stance. If Elizabeth, who’d almost been violated by these people, could trust them, then so could she. “We seem to be in the back of a Puddle Jumper.”

“Yes. The Magi use them in their war. They’re using this one to return us to the Gate.”

“But do the rebels not control the Stargate?”

“Yes, they do. That’s why we have to take it back from them.”

Teyla narrowed her eyes. “Moments ago, they were our allies. They lost soldiers protecting us on our way back to the Gate. And now, we betray them?” This was not the way of Teyla’s people. They did not turn on fellow human beings, especially not those that had helped them. The Genii had been Teyla’s first lesson in betrayal, and she had hoped that they would be her last.

Elizabeth stood and gripped Teyla by the shoulders. “I know this is asking a lot of you, Teyla. I know it’s not what you’re used to, but neither of these people are our allies. We are in a war of strategic alliances, and right now, we have to think of ourselves.”

Teyla nodded, slowly. Yes, she knew of strategic alliances. It was why she had supported the viewpoint of Elizabeth and her people so many times when her own people disagreed, when she herself disagreed. Now she viewed her friendship with the Atlanteans as much more than an alliance, but perhaps it was not so with these people on this world. They would not hesitate to treat herself and Dr. Weir as objects. Why should she do any differently?

“I know,” Teyla whispered. “We will do what we must do.”

Elizabeth smiled. It was forced, but reassuring anyhow.

And then the door to the cockpit opened and a black-clad figure was looming in the doorway. Teyla forced her hands down to her sides. She did not want to appear as though she did not trust him, even when she would never turn her back on him.

He was tall, but broad shouldered. His hair was also long and dark like the man that had assaulted Elizabeth. His eyes were the same shade of hazel green, much like Major Sheppard’s. Even though Teyla knew that all those on Atlantis who possessed the gene did not look alike, it was tempting to imagine these men as somehow the major’s distant cousins. They shared so many of his traits. Including his most charming smile . . . .

“It is good to see you awake, Miss,” he said, jauntily. “My name is Mushak Aman. And you are?”

“Teyla Emagen.”

“You are an able fighter, Teyla.”

“Thank you.” Teyla nodded, still not untensing at his approach.

“We could use someone like you on our side.”

“I am afraid that will not be possible. I must defend my own people from the Wraith.”

He nodded. “I understand your duty, as I am doing mine.”

Teyla felt the compulsion to see what she wanted to see, to be charmed by the fact that he claimed to understand. But these were still the same people who would deliberately target the wives of their enemy. They were still just a strategic alliance.

“Thank you,” she said, diplomatically.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes. When that hatch opens, we will be positioned near the Great Ring. Our sensing devices indicate that there is an entrenchment of ten guards surrounding the Ring. We can take them out with our weapons systems. There are four guards surrounding the Symbol Podium. We cannot fire and risk damaging it. We must be quick, for there is an entire battalion in the trenches not far away. We do not have enough firepower to take them all.”

“This ship can travel through the Stargate, can it not? If you would . . .” Teyla began before she caught a warning glance from Elizabeth. So perhaps they were hiding all knowledge of Ancient technology from these people. Maybe secrets were what these so-called strategic alliances were all about.

Aman whipped about, fixing Teyla with his cool and calculating gaze. He smiled what he probably thought was pleasantly. “Excuse me, Teyla? What were you saying?”

“This ship . . . it is shaped very much like the Stargate. My people have heard legends. They say that the Ancestors used ships much like this one to travel through the Ring.”

Aman turned, not at all hiding his disappointment. “Of course. We, too, believe these ships to have been a gift from those who came before. We believe they can be used to enter the Great Ring, but have not yet tested the theory.”

“We could try . . .” Elizabeth said, even when they both knew that this was the strategic part of the strategic alliance – the Magi wanted them to help them take back the Stargate.

“No, we can not,” Aman said, as he sealed the hatch between them and the cockpit, obviously trying to hide the DHD he knew to be there.

Elizabeth nodded, clearly not ready to expose their knowledge of Ancient technology, even if it might force them into a firefight. But, no matter, Teyla was ready.

Another of Aman’s colleagues joined them a moment later, armed and ready, as they heard the familiar deployment of the drone weapons.

Teyla steeled herself for the battle she knew to be coming as the hatch lowered and the cabin filled with smoke and the stench of death.

Teyla could not see the enemy, only hear the clatter of weapons and see figures moving deftly though the smoke. The Magi did not hesitate to charge, but Teyla looked to Elizabeth, who simply readied her handgun and followed. Teyla entered the battle not a second after.

They Magi had fired many drone weapons and the smoke was thick, but as she neared, she could see that the Magi had already taken out two of the guards. Teyla charged the other two, firing a shot at the weapons hand of one and knocking the other over with her hardest kick.

Elizabeth ran for the DHD and began dialing the Alpha Site while one of the Magi ran around the perimeter, seemingly dropping things down into the trench dug around the Stargate. Aman approached the two men Teyla had incapacitated and fired two shots, killing them both.

Teyla closed her eyes against the useless slaughter, only to open them when she heard more shots. The other Magi went down, still not having completed his circle of the area. Teyla stood ready as three soldiers approached out of the smoke.

Aman stumbled towards his colleague’s body, grabbing something from his unmoving hands and continuing the circle, leaving Teyla and Elizabeth to deal with the soldiers.

Elizabeth stopped dialing as one approached her. She raised her weapon and fired. Teyla ducked a shot and then tackled another one, slamming the butt of her weapon hard against his skull.

But then she heard Elizabeth scream from behind her, lit by the bright blue glow of the wormhole she had just activated. Her mud-stained red shirt was now also filling with blood. The soldier had shot her in the shoulder and was advancing.

Teyla didn’t think. She just fired.

And then he was nothing more than another corpse rotting in the mud.

Before Teyla could regret what she had done, a bright blue dome seemed to suddenly appear around her – no doubt why the Magi had been circling the Stargate. It appeared much like the field around the holding-cell on Atlantis.

Teyla looked to Elizabeth, now gripping her shoulder and looking wild and helpless. Teyla moved towards her instinctively, wanting to protect and comfort.

But then Aman emerged out of the smoke, black hair and coat flying behind him. He smiled at her, a smile far too confident.

Teyla raised her weapon. Elizabeth was right. When push came to shove, she would do what she must.

“We must return to our world,” she said, steadily.

Aman nodded. “I know, and I will not delay you. I ask only that you be honest with me. Do you know if there are more ships like this one? Have you seen them?”

Elizabeth made a choked cry, as if to answer, but Teyla pulled her closer to her, closer to the open wormhole.

She would not trust these people with knowledge of Atlantis and its secrets. She did not ever want to see them again. That was the last thought that passed through her mind as they dove through the open wormhole.

The healing process had been slow, and John had been distant. Rodney couldn’t blame him. John was in more discomfort than pain. His wounds showed in weariness rather than hurt, hidden as they were beneath the dressings.

John had been released from the infirmary a day after Rodney’s return, but had refused to let Rodney visit him too much, claiming that it would look suspicious. Rodney thought this was the utmost in ridiculousness, of course, because after seeing their best friend tortured, no one would want to let them leave their sight.

But after a shouting match or two, Rodney had decided to give John his space. John had always been too paranoid about the ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ thing, and Kolya had done nothing but prove him right by seeing the true depth of their relationship almost immediately.

But he still came in every day for mealtimes and after the nurses changed John’s bandages. He couldn’t stand to see those cuts – healing but still fresh in his mind. After the first time he’d walked in on it, he’d had to go throw up in the sink. It wasn’t the cuts and the blood themselves (though Rodney was not a big fan of blood, especially associated with John) but the letters he now saw emerging from the tattered mass of flesh. He didn’t want to face the meaning behind those names – the people John had killed.

But now John was showing real improvement – sleeping a relatively normal amount of time every day, moving about, though stiffly, and beginning to go stir crazy.

Rodney knew just the thing to distract him.

He’d let John beat him at chess. Well . . . maybe John sort of did beat him. But it was only because he was distracted by thoughts of what they could do now that John seemed to be feeling better.

Now, he stood lazily under the pretext of cleaning up the board and finally sat himself next to John on the bed, letting his hand fall heavily on John’s thigh.

John looked down at Rodney’s hand and then back up to meet his eyes, eyebrows raising in question.

Rodney stroked his hand up and down John’s inseam in a way that he hoped was as skillfully seductive as he thought it was.

“Whatcha doin’, Rodney?” John asked innocently. God, John’s ridiculously innocent act always drove Rodney wild.

Rodney smiled. “Trying to seduce you.”

John smiled ruefully, though his eyes seemed to darken. “How’s that working out for you?”

“You tell me.”

John sighed. “I don’t think I can really . . .” John said one thing, but his hard-on said another.

Rodney waved his protest away. “Oh. You don’t have to . . . John, who do you think I am? I’m not going to roll you back and fuck you with you still looking like someone stuck you in a cheese grater.”

John shrugged just slightly. “Might help get rid of some of the scabs.”

“Ew . . . ew . . . and did I mention ew? Jesus, John did you learn mood-killing from Margaret Thatcher or something?”

John actually laughed at that. It was good to see him laughing. It wasn’t something he did much these days.

“Sorry, Rodney, sounded better in my head.”

“Hah. And now he’s trying to convince me that he thinks before he speaks.” This was a complete lie, of course, because John was one of the most self-censored people Rodney’d ever met. Except for that Major Davis guy from the Pentagon . . . but, then again, he was from the Pentagon. It was just as unattractive a trait in John as it was in the rest of the idiotic American military. That wasn’t to say that John was an idiot. He was just idiotic.

John punched Rodney lightly in the shoulder, barely even wincing from the motion. Oh, yeah, John was definitely healthy enough for what he had in mind.

“Yeah right, McKay. I’m not you,” John said. It was nice, this easy banter. Rodney’d missed it this past week with John healing.

“Hey! With a brain like mine, of course I have the faculties to censor myself. It’s just that with this kind of brilliance, I can come up with what to say without a censor. Besides . . . what I was actually proposing with the whole seduction thing, was more along the lines of letting me blow you and then jerk myself off, with you making some helpful . . . faces or something.”

John just snorted at that.

“You think you’re up to it?” Rodney said, already getting down onto his knees. John was always up for a blow-job. He was a guy, after all.

But John surprised him, by resting a warm hand on Rodney’s cheek, tilting his face up to look at him.

“It’s nothing personal, Rodney. You know I love your blow-jobs, right? It’s just that I can’t right now.”

“But . . .” Rodney began his protest before it all came together, slamming down onto him like a ton of fucking bricks. John had been distant. He kept getting this far-off stare in his eyes. Sometimes he seemed to tense under Rodney’s touch. Kolya’d called him pretty. He’d been alone with Kolya. And now he didn’t want to have sex.

Rodney berated himself. He was such an idiot. Why hadn’t he seen this before? John had all the symptoms. Or at least he had all of the symptoms he’d imagined there’d be if he’d had any reason to care about this kind of thing enough to read about it.

But now it was obvious – Kolya had raped John.

“Okay, fine,” he said, standing shakily. He couldn’t just ask John about it point blank. Who knows how badly that could scar him? No, he’d have to find out through other means.

Rodney was already half-way out the door before he heard John call out behind him. “Rodney, wait!”

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry. I just have to figure something out.”

Rodney gave John and awkward little waved before scurrying off down the corridor towards the infirmary.

Carson would’ve seen something like this in his examination. He’d know.

Rodney barreled into the infirmary, completely ignoring all the nurses that had to practically dive out of the way to avoid him. He was a man on a mission.

“Where’s Carson?” he demanded loudly of the little black nurse whose name he definitely did not remember.

“Um . . . well, Dr. McKay, he’s . . .”

“Well, hello, Rodney. Nice to see you in here bright and early, terrorizing my staff.”

Rodney gave him his best withering glare, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, Carson, my sole purpose in life is to get in the way of you and your funky magic, now please, can we go somewhere . . .” he looked around at the nurses, all trying to look busy, but mostly managing to put cotton balls into drawers labeled ‘catheter tubing’ instead. “Can we go somewhere more private?”

Carson nodded solemnly. He actually took this doctor-patient confidentiality thing pretty seriously, misguided little man that he was. “Of course, Rodney.”

He led Rodney back into his glass cubicle of an office. Carson and Elizabeth and all the pseudo-scientists preferred these open-looking contraptions. It was only Heightmeyer that had the decency to make her office look as sinister as the business that went on inside of it.

The second they were inside, Rodney said. “Think the walls opaque.”

“What? Rodney, you told me yourself that these walls were completely soundproof.”

“Which they are. Look, I know you’re afraid of all things thinking, especially involving Ancient technology, but I think I might possibly have a nervous freak-out from what you might tell me and I’d like to do it without everyone watching, okay?”

Carson nodded slowly, closing his eyes and looking terrified, before the walls went a dull shade of frosted grey. Then he peeked one eye open and said, “Did I do it?”

Rodney snorted. “Yes, yes, you successfully used your brain without exploding any generals. Now, please. What I needed to talk to you about.”

“Yes, Rodney? Whatever I can do to help.”

“It’s about John . . .”

“I already told you. The major will be fine.”

“I know that. But, about his injuries . . . Carson, I need to know if Kolya did anything to him.”

“Of course he bloody-well did something to him! He carved him up like my Grandpa Thomas with a Christmas ham.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But did he do anything else? Did he . . . you know, if it’s medical confidentiality or anything you’re worried about, you have to tell me. I’m at risk here too, if he has any kind of diseases. And I don’t want to have to put him through asking point-blank. You can ask Heightmeyer about that . . . she’ll back me up.”

“Rodney, I do not have a bloody clue what it is you’re talking about. But, I do want you to know that if there is a matter of confidentiality . . .”

Rodney let out a frustrated growl. These medical idiots, trotting around babbling the Hippocratic Oath at each other. Confidentiality was fine on Earth where freedom and all those stupid values were in vogue, but in Pegasus . . . they’d made so many exceptions that Rodney had nearly forgotten the rules.

“Did Kolya rape John?” Rodney shouted.

Carson sighed. “No, he didn’t. Now, you have to understand, Rodney. If he had, I wouldn’t have been able to answer. But in terms of horrible things that have not happened to a patient, the rules are less clear . . . .”

Carson seemed relieved, but Rodney sure as hell wasn’t. If Kolya didn’t rape John, then what had happened to him?

But then again, maybe it just meant that he didn’t do it before Carson’s exam . . . maybe this little ‘sojourn’ that’d had Carson so frightened was the source of the rape. Sure, Kolya was caged, but it would be just like John to want to interrogate him face-to-face. Yes, that must be it.

“Okay. Thanks so much for the heart-to-heart, Carson. I’m so relieved to have such a competent Doctor to rely on,” Rodney said as he hurried out the door in search of one Sergeant Eugene Bates.

“Rodney, wait! This isn’t a time for sarcasm and run. If you feel as though something might’ve . . . “

Rodney ignored Carson’s protest. Man on a mission. He was a man on a mission.