Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue

"The gift of life is reserved only for our most devout worshipers … and our brothers.

"You gave me back my life. I have merely repaid the debt."

Sheppard staggered back, his hand automatically going to his chest where he had felt a surge of adrenaline and life pour back into his body only moments before.

Todd looked at him, then behind into the forest.

"More are coming. We must go."

Sheppard looked around, scanned the ground for a weapon and grabbed the nearest gun he could find. He had no idea if his team was coming, but he wasn't willing to go down without a fight this time.

"You go," he said to the Wraith. "I'll hold them off."

It was too late to run as more Genii soldiers crashed through the trees. Sheppard dropped to one knee, the gun snug against his shoulder. He couldn't worry about what Todd was doing. It was every man for himself right now.

Aiming and squeezing the trigger, he brought down the nearest man, then in rapid succession three more, until running footsteps behind him alerted him too late to the fact that he was surrounded.

Two bodies slammed into him from the side and behind, flattening him as the air rushed from his lungs and the gun was knocked from his hands.

Kicking and struggling as he was hauled to his knees, Sheppard looked up into the angry eyes of Kolya.

"Where's the Wraith?" he demanded. "What did he do to you?"

Sheppard grinned. "Looks like he undid what you wanted him to do."

The radio at Kolya's belt crackled. "Sir, Lantean forces are coming our way. We need to evacuate."

Kolya stared down at John, face twitching, before gesturing and stalking off into the trees. "We take him with us."

Sheppard dug in his heels as he was pulled to his feet, the promise of rescue on the horizon. He wasn't going to make it easy for Kolya if his team was already here. He had to stall.

The men restraining him didn't stop, but one pummeled him in the solar plexus, leaving him gasping and sagging in their arms, too weak from the sharp pain to stand or resist. Grabbing his arms and shoulders more firmly, they took off into the trees, dragging Sheppard's limp body along with them. The faint sound of Ronon's blaster and gunfire sounded in the forest behind them.

They were so close.

Sheppard managed to pull himself together enough to start struggling again, and the men tossed him to the ground. One didn't hesitate to pull out his gun and press it against Sheppard's forehead.

"Stop fighting," the man hissed.

"You think I'm gonna stop fighting when I know my team is a few steps behind you?" Sheppard retorted.

"We don't have time for this."

The gun whipped around and sent him spinning into white lights between the tree branches.

Chapter 1: Reality

If they'd only been five minutes faster.

Ronon cursed all the gods he knew when they came upon the dead Genii. It was definitely Sheppard. The man knew how to put up a fight, but it wasn't enough.

The tracks showed that they had pulled him away, deeper into the forest. He struggled, there was a patch of blood, and the signs of resistance stopped. They carried him.

Ronon ran, not bothering to wait for Teyla, McKay, and the others. Time was imperative.

He was just fast enough to see a small, battered ship in the clearing, and two Genii soldiers dragging Sheppard's unconscious body onboard as the ship began to lift into the air.

But Sheppard's greyed hair was black, and his slack face, although covered in blood, looked unlined and un-aged. He was young again.

Ronon didn't have time to wonder at the transformation. Roaring in rage he lifted his gun and fired.

It was too little, too late.

The bolt ricocheted off the side of the door as it closed and the ship lifted into the air, hovering for a moment, before taking off into the atmosphere.

Ronon fired several more shots after it, not thinking. His mind was full of red-hot anger.

They were so close.

Sheppard woke to humming. The floor beneath him was vibrating gently, cool to the touch.

His body ached everywhere. A sharp pain in his diaphragm told him that the hit to his solar plexus might have been a serious one. Hopefully it was just a nasty bruise and nothing more.

He held his breath and opened his eyes.

The room was dark, with filtered light coming from a grated ceiling overhead. Shadows filled the corners, but the room wasn't that big, maybe four by four meters. He appeared to be alone. He briefly wondered if Kolya had also recaptured Todd.

Pushing himself up, Sheppard leaned against the cool wall behind him, taking in the empty room. The walls were rusted brown and metallic. The floor under him was also metal, and the doors opposite him were faceless with no window. There was a depression in the floor in one corner that he guessed was his cell's version of a toilet, but there were no obvious panels or anything he could pry open. The room was completely faceless except for the soft blinking of a red light in the ceiling corner. A camera. They were watching him.

Pushing himself to his feet, he discovered more aches and bruises. Touching his face he found dried blood caking the right side of his head and jaw, probably from being pistol whipped. Based on the amount of bruises he was now sporting, Kolya's men didn't care too much about handling him carefully while unconscious.

Sheppard touched the humming walls, walking the perimeter of the cell. Where was he? Underground? Everything smelled metallic, almost like copper or iron. He certainly wasn't in the last place where he had met Todd. Or at least, he probably wasn't in that place. It had smelled earthy and damp there.

He banged on the door.

"Hey! Anybody there?"

Either the door was too thick for him to hear anyone on the other side, or he was completely alone.

Sheppard spent the next twenty minutes banging on the door and shouting at the ceiling.

There was no answer. Was this Kolya's idea of an execution? Dying of loneliness?

Sheppard slumped against the wall facing the door. He could be patient. He could wait. After what he put Kolya through, he knew it wasn't the last he had seen of the Genii.

Chapter Text

It was only with the utmost care that Elizabeth was able to control her disappointment when the team returned without John.

She ran down the stairs to confront Ronon, who was seething, and Teyla and McKay who looked more sad and defeated than angry.

"What happened?" she demanded.

"We were too late!" Ronon roared. "Just five minutes. If we'd been there five minutes sooner we would have had him."

"Where's John?" she questioned.

"Kolya still has him," Teyla broke in. "He escaped on a small ship they had hidden in the trees and took the Colonel with him. Ronon saw him and said that he was no longer aged."

"What?" Elizabeth was incredulous.

"It is a mystery to myself as well," Teyla continued.

"It could have all been an illusion Kolya was playing with us," McKay suggested. "We didn't see Wraith anywhere and we searched the facility they were holding Sheppard in. It was clean. Just some recording and transmitting equipment."

"And the ship?" Elizabeth pressed. "Could you track it?"

"Unfortunately, no." McKay pushed past her, uncharacteristically non-McKay-like, and all business. "Not with the equipment I had. I need to get to work. There has to be a way to track them. I'm going to need some things and then we need to go back. I'm hoping we can pick up their trail before it gets too cold. He might have just been moving Sheppard to another part of the planet, or it could have been something like a puddle jumper. It was small enough to fit through a gate."

"Then get to work, people," Elizabeth announced. "And the rest of you, gear up to head back through the gate as soon as McKay is ready."

The mission had only lasted two hours. She knew the team was fresh and ready to hunt down Kolya. The sooner they had Sheppard back, the sooner they could all breathe again.

As far as Sheppard could tell, he sat alone in the cell for nearly two days. His watch had been taken, but based on his hunger level and need for sleep, as well as an uncanny internal sense for time, he knew that the door was going to have to open soon or he was going to die of dehydration.

On the third day, Sheppard sat listless in the corner, stomach growling, lips cracked, and mouth dry. The humming in the floor hadn't changed since he first woke in the cell, but an imperceptible feel in the air made him look around, wondering what had changed.

The air was suddenly more humid, with a sweet hint that made Sheppard immediately cover his mouth with his shirt.

They were gassing him.

He struggled to his feet, searching the walls to find the source. After a few moments, he looked at the ceiling and realized that anything could be behind the grating. There was no way he could stop the gas.

His limbs were feeling heavy, and he staggered, bashing his shoulder into the smooth, metal wall as he slowly collapsed to the floor. It was getting harder to take a deep breath, and his eyelids were drooping.

Before he gave in and closed his eyes, Sheppard knew that it was likely the gas wasn't poisonous. They'd kept him alive this long. Why kill him now?

The third day of Sheppard's re-kidnapping, Atlantis received another transmission from Kolya. The signal was encoded, and it was likely that they were using some kind of technology to bounce from address to address, so the chances of tracking him were slim to none once they were able to re-dial.

Weir called Sheppard's team to the control room where Kolya appeared on a grainy screen as before, in a room very similar to the last one he had called them from.

"Dr. Weir. Let's try this again, shall we?"

Weir folded her arms. "We don't negotiate with terrorists, Kolya. I thought you had learned that by now?"

"The problem, Dr. Weir, is that I still have your precious Colonel Sheppard. And I know you will do anything to get him back. You will even hand over Ladon Radim. I just have to find the right buttons to push."

"Where is Colonel Sheppard?" Weir demanded.

"He is with me, and on the whole is in good health."

Kolya stepped back from the screen.

They saw Sheppard strapped to a table, apparently unconscious. One side of his head was covered in dried blood and a leather gag covered his mouth.

"He sustained a minor injury, but I think we can clean that up," Kolya said, motioning to the guards standing in the shadows.

The guards stepped forward and tilted the table so Sheppard's head was down on a 45 degree angle, the straps keeping him on the table. He didn't react, but then the guards brought a hose and held it over his head, splashing water all over his face.

Sheppard spluttered awake, coughing and struggling against the bonds. The water flow did not stop.

Ronon shouted in anger, throwing the first thing he managed to get his hands on and smashing a coffee mug against the wall. Teyla bit her hand. McKay looked on in dismay, speechless.

Weir took a breath before finding her voice to speak. She had to be strong for Sheppard.

"Water torture, Kolya? You think our soldiers aren't trained to withstand that?"

Kolya's face filled the screen, blocking their view of Sheppard, although they could still see the water splashing and hear his muffled coughs and gasps in the background.

"On the contrary," Kolya answered, "I'm sure Colonel Sheppard has experienced the best your world has to offer. I am curious as to how far I can go until he breaks. The Wraith was only to test you initially. Now, I can test him, as well as get Ladon from you when I know you will finally give in. You won't be able to watch this forever, even if Sheppard himself is unbreakable."

Kolya stepped back, watching the water cascade over Sheppard's face as he continued to struggle, barely able to breathe.

The Genii pulled a long stick from his belt and pressed a button. A jolt of visible energy danced from the end, reminding Weir of a cattle prod. Her stomach dropped as she realized what Kolya was going to do next.

"But I won't bore you, Dr. Weir. I'll call you again."

Kolya turned towards Sheppard, his back to the camera, the stick raised, and the transmission ended.

Sheppard didn't know how long he felt like he was drowning. At first, the water was a welcome relief to his dry throat. But he knew what water torture was. He was surprised it had made it to the Pegasus Galaxy, but a tiny part of him was grateful that it had been part of his Black Ops training. Except now, he couldn't tap out when he couldn't take anymore.

Water burned his nostrils and his eyes. It filled his ears. The leather gag kept him from taking in air through his mouth. His wrists felt raw from struggling upside-down on the table. It went on and on. When he finally felt like he couldn't take one minute more, he heard a sharp command, and the water stopped.

Coughing through the gag, he was returned to a horizontal position but could barely catch his breath, fighting against the strap across his chest that pinned him down when all he wanted to do was curl up so he could breathe.

Kolya stepped into view and Sheppard glared daggers at him, wishing the gag was off so he could swear at the Genii.

Smiling, Kolya waved a stick in the air between them. Sharp bolts of electricity leapt from the stick to the table and Sheppard jolted in sharp pain, realizing what was next.

"I just had a lovely conversation with Dr. Weir," Kolya said. "She assures me you are a strong man and can withstand anything." He traced the edge of the table with the stick, and the electricity danced across Sheppard's body, throwing him into an involuntary seizure. Blood roared in his ears as his eyes rolled back in his head. His hands scrabbled on the table, not finding anything to hold onto. The energy danced mercilessly for long moments, then finally stopped.

The world had turned flat and grey around him as he struggled to see again. It took some moments for him to realize that Kolya was still talking to him.

"… And then, of course, we would move on. In the meantime, I will ensure that your people on Atlantis know how you are doing."

Kolya's face swam into view as Sheppard struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Ah. I see we have forgotten to take this off." Kolya unfastened the gag. "Sometimes I forget that conversations can go two ways."

"We don't … give in … to terrorists," Sheppard gasped. "They won't … give you Ladon."

"To be honest," Kolya murmured, leaning in closer, "I'm hoping they won't. I will enjoy getting to know you better."

Kolya smiled, leaned back, then pushed the stick into Sheppard's ribs. His world exploded painfully into white light.

Weir paced as McKay worked. Both hadn't slept since the botched rescue, and Weir could feel her synapses were fraying.

"Do we know what sort of engine the ship had?" she asked.

"Ladon said it's positron based. I'm working on creating a program where we return to the planet and cast a sort of digital net to see where it went. It's the best I can do right now."

"You're doing fine, Rodney," Weir patted him on the shoulder. "Once you finish, load everything up and let the team know. And see if you can get a nap somewhere in there."

"A nap?" Rodney was incredulous. "I can't sleep right now. Who knows what Kolya is doing to Sheppard! We have to find him yesterday!"

"And neither of us will be able to do our jobs properly if we don't rest. I don't want any mistakes," Weir replied. "We made too many mistakes on the last mission. We can't afford anymore."

Sheppard woke back in his cell, his entire body aching. Gingerly pushing himself to a sitting position, he found under his t-shirt his skin looked quite singed. There were a few more bruises here and there, but on the whole he was fine.

On the floor in front of him was a tray of food and a cup of water. He hungrily ate what looked like a piece of dry bread - tasteless - and gulped down the water. So they weren't planning on starving him to death. But he did feel like they were boring him to death.

Hours on end were spent in the faceless cell. There was no noise, no motion from the door. Nothing but the steady hum from the floor.

Black Ops POW training had taught Sheppard that he needed a routine to stay sane. Anytime he was awake he went over a sequence of mental mathematical problems that he found fun, then would always add one extra difficult problem at the end. When he finished, he would play a mental chess game with himself, but sometimes he got bored and wouldn't finish, remembering to pick up where he left off the next time he was awake. He also went over song lyrics. At first, he only sang inside his head, but eventually, the silence started getting to him, and he sang loudly and without abandon. He could sing for hours, anything from classic rock to country. No one ever came to stop him, so he figured he either had a nice enough voice, or the Genii really weren't listening to him.

After another day (he guessed) of solitary, the gas started up again. Within moments, Sheppard was unconscious.

When he woke, groggy and limbs feeling slow and heavy, he found himself back in the same room as before. This time he was strapped into a chair, not the table from before.

"Ok, so no water torture then?" he said aloud to the room. Apparently, he was alone as no one answered. He tugged on the straps encircling his wrists, ankles, and chest. They were tight enough that breathing was a bit difficult, and there was no way he was going to escape.

In front of him was the familiar Genii camera from before, but otherwise, the room was faceless and similar to his cell.

The door behind him opened and Kolya walked into the room, flanked by two Genii officers.

"I'm sorry for our last session, Colonel," he said. "We didn't have time for pleasantries. But this time, I wanted to prepare you. I'm going to call Dr. Weir again. I'm going to ask for Ladon. And I need you to tell her that you will be untouched from this point on if she cooperates."

"You know that's not happening, right?" Sheppard rolled his eyes.

Kolya smiled. "I thought I'd try. Perhaps if she heard it from you she would be more cooperative. And honestly, it isn't just you that I'm trying to break at the moment. But I'm afraid that you might be running out of time. I may no longer be in possession of a Wraith, but I know of many more ways to kill a man. And I won't be doing it quickly."

The hair on the back of Sheppard's neck rose. He knew without a doubt how cruel Kolya could be, and was certain that the Wraith was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Gag him," Kolya commanded.

One of the officers fastened the now familiar leather gag, effectively cutting off any protests.

Seething, Sheppard watched as Kolya dialed commands into the console next to the video monitor, which crackled to life after a moment. The monitor was fuzzy, with no video feed being returned, but Sheppard knew that Elizabeth was there.

"Once again, Dr. Weir," Kolya began, "I ask for Ladon in return for Colonel Sheppard's life. I have given you plenty of time to track us down, but now I know for certain that we are invisible to your dear Dr. McKay and you will not be rescuing the Colonel anytime soon."

He reached for something on the table in front of the monitor, but Sheppard couldn't see what he was doing.

"The Genii have a particular method of … persuasion that we like to use on our enemies. I've been told it is unique to my people, so I would like to educate you on our ways."

When he turned from the table, Sheppard could see a needle the length of his forearm in his hand, glowing white hot.

The screen behind Kolya was blank, and Sheppard could not hear Elizabeth's responses, but he noted that Kolya was wearing an earpiece, likely so that she couldn't give Sheppard any clue as to where they were in the search - nor could Sheppard reply if he had any idea where he was.

Kolya sauntered closer with the needle, and Sheppard's breath unwillingly quickened.

"You see," Kolya continued, "it's just thin enough that it doesn't do any permanent damage, but it's hot enough that he will feel every bit of it, from tip to tip. Depending on where I insert it, it can do lasting damage, too. You're fortunate that I'm a master at this, as a more inexperienced person might nick an artery or pierce something vital."

He hovered dangerously close to Sheppard's eye, and John could feel the heat radiating from the needle.

"Let's start with somewhere easy."

In one smooth motion, Kolya inserted the needle into Sheppard's right side. He moved so fast that for a full second, Sheppard didn't feel anything. Then his side was on fire with white hot pain, and he gasped, biting down on the gag, barely able to draw a breath to scream. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands gripping the arms of the chair, trying to anchor himself to something solid as the pain threatened to steal his breath completely away, digging deeper and deeper inside of him.

Kolya stood back, watching him struggle, a small smile on his lips.

"Oh no, Dr. Weir," he murmured into the ear piece, "I think you will listen to me now. Because this is only the beginning."

As he turned back to the screen, Sheppard saw through eyes filled with tears of pain that the table was full of burning needles.

Chapter Text

Kolya was told later that the Wraith had disappeared. It was quite unfortunate, as the creature had served as an excellent device of persuasion. In fact, he was fairly certain that even if it had killed Sheppard all those days ago, it might have helped Kolya make his point to Weir in a way that pure torture may not have been able to. Sending the Colonel’s shriveled corpse back to Atlantis would have been the icing on the cake. 

Now, he wondered at the man in front of him. Sheppard’s dark head sagged as he hovered on the edge of unconsciousness, but his hands still gripped the chair, the knuckles white with the strain.

Throughout it all he had not screamed.

For nearly two hours, Kolya had worked on Sheppard. He had kept the monitor on, knowing that Dr. Weir could see and hear everything he was doing. Her protests became muted, and finally trailed off altogether, but he knew she was still watching.

His men kept the connection open, quickly redialing every time the gate turned off. Kolya didn’t want Dr. Weir to miss a single moment.

The burning hot needles cauterized every wound they made, so there was little blood, but he knew that if they wanted to keep Sheppard alive the doctor would have to work his magic after this session. A man could die from shock alone, although Sheppard had somehow managed to keep himself conscious, flashing dark eyes communicating murder without words to Kolya.

Every flinch at the thrust of a needle gave Kolya great pleasure, even if he knew it was involuntary. Every tear of pain squeezed from Sheppard’s eyes gave him delight. But still, Sheppard didn’t scream.

The chair creaked as Sheppard listed to the side, bone white knuckles still clinging to the arms as he fought unconsciousness. Why the man didn’t give in, Kolya didn’t know.

The monitor was still on, and although the recipients on the other side had gone silent, the blinking light told Kolya they were still there. He stood behind the chair so that Sheppard was in full view of the camera, his hands lightly brushing the Colonel's shoulders.

“Now for my favorite part,” he said softly. He reached down to the first needle that he had inserted, grasped, and pulled.

Sheppard jerked under him, a soft sob escaping his throat, but muffled by the gag.

The needles were no longer hot, but it didn’t make the pain any less bearable. The wounds had cauterized upon insertion, but without the heat, removal would reopen them.

This was the part that Kolya found most men broke. This was the part that could drive a man mad with pain.

But not Sheppard.

Kolya took his time, savoring every moment, waiting for Dr. Weir to break on the other end, to give in. Waiting for Sheppard to finally scream at the agony he was enduring.

But Sheppard kept enduring. Even when his eyes went glassy and unseeing, those hands kept gripping the chair as though it were his anchor. Even when blood started to coat his body, trickling slow and warm down to the chair and floor beneath him, Sheppard stayed silent.

When Kolya pulled the last needle from Sheppard’s thigh, he looked at the monitor, wiping the blood from his hands as he indicated towards the nearly unconscious man.

“Is this what you wanted, Dr. Weir? I’m rather enjoying myself, so if you want to prolong this standoff I can be a patient man.”

He stood beside Sheppard’s chair again, observing the blood beginning to pool on the floor, the sticky surface of the chair and the dark stains that covered Sheppard’s shirt and pants. The bone white knuckles were caked with dark blood, now beginning to dry.

Kolya removed the gag, finding that blood had even found its way there. Maybe the man had chewed the inside of his mouth or his tongue to keep from losing control.

Leaning in closer so that the earpiece was close to Sheppard’s face, Kolya asked, “Do you have anything to say to your teammates, Colonel?”

And Sheppard still managed to gather his strength, lift his head, and glare at him. He then turned his eyes to the monitor behind Kolya.

“Don’t … give … in,” he said evenly, his face dark.

Kolya leaned back, face twitching. The words were for Weir, but they were also for Kolya. He understood that it would take much more than this to break the man in front of him.

Turning from Sheppard, he could see the man’s reflection on the monitor as he listed to the side once again, gasping with the effort of those three words.

Kolya stared at the monitor, knowing Dr. Weir was on the other side.

“This will continue, Dr. Weir,” he said. “This will continue until I get Ladon. What is one man’s life for another? Would you sacrifice this man for one you don’t know?”

He stabbed the button that turned the transmission off, then turned back to Sheppard.

The man finally appeared to be unconscious, his skin pale and clammy and his pulse weak under Kolya’s fingers. His breath was coming in ragged gasps.

Kolya pressed the button to summon the doctor.

When the gate opened and they received Kolya’s transmission, Elizabeth was alone in the gate room with only Carson Beckett and the night crew. It was 2am, and Sheppard’s team was off-world on the planet where they had almost gotten him back, searching for any clues as to where Kolya might have taken him.

When the Genii showed them Sheppard sitting in a chair, bound, gagged, but alive and apparently well, Elizabeth nearly sobbed in relief.

“Once again, Dr. Weir,” Kolya said, “I ask for Ladon in return for Colonel Sheppard’s life. I have given you plenty of time to track us down, but now I know for certain that we are invisible to your dear Dr. McKay and you will not be rescuing the Colonel anytime soon.”

Kolya indicated the table in front of him that was lined with what appeared to be glowing needles about a foot long.

“The Genii have a particular method of … persuasion that we like to use on our enemies. I’ve been told it is unique to my people, so I would like to educate you on our ways.”

Elizabeth had steeled herself for a moment like this. After Kolya had used the Wraith on John, and then the water torture, she was sure that it was not the last time she would see the Genii torment her first in command.

“Kolya, anything you do or say isn’t going to change our minds on the fact that we do not give in to terrorists,” she said, in as strong of a voice as she could. 

She knew that she couldn’t let the Genii hear any hesitation or weakness in her voice, although it was slowly killing her with every call from the command center that the Genii were transmitting.

Kolya ignored her completely, picking up one of the needles from the table with a thickly gloved hand.

“You see,” he continued, indicating towards John with the needle in his hand, “it’s just thin enough that it doesn’t do any permanent damage, but it’s hot enough that he will feel every bit of it, from tip to tip. Depending on where I insert it, it can do lasting damage, too.” He turned back to the monitor with a rakish grin on his face. “You’re fortunate that I’m a master at this, as a more inexperienced person might nick an artery or pierce something vital.”

He hovered over Sheppard’s face, and Elizabeth could see John flinch, pulling away from the hot needle.

“Let’s start with somewhere easy.”

She didn’t see what Kolya did, or where the needle went, but John’s muffled gasp told her everything.

Despite the terrible reception from the Genii transmission, Elizabeth could see John’s eyes screw tightly shut against the pain. And she could do nothing.

“Kolya!” she shouted. “Kolya, listen to me —”

“Oh no, Dr. Weir,” Kolya said quietly, breaking her off. “I think you will listen to me now. Because this is only the beginning.”

And he turned from John to take another needle from the table, and another, and another.

Elizabeth found Carson’s hand and gripped it tightly, both of them shocked to silence as they watched John and Kolya. She prayed that John could feel their presence and take some sort of strength in knowing that they were there for him.

Carson exclaimed softly at every needle, trying to hide his distress and anger unsuccessfully, swearing viciously in Gaelic and English. Elizabeth herself could not bite back sobs as they watched, gripping each other’s hands as though it would anchor them to reality and give John strength.

When Kolya finished, he turned back to the monitor, his eyes grave.

“Now for my favorite part.”

And when she had thought it was over, Elizabeth realized that Kolya had only just begun.

Through nearly four hours, Elizabeth and Carson and the night shift watched, the gate redialing when 38 minutes had expired, and the transmission going on and on. The technicians were not able to out-dial Kolya’s side, shell-shocked and hindered by the computers. The transmission was not coming from any planet Kolya had used before, and Elizabeth was sure that when they sent a team to investigate they would find nothing.

As the morning shift came to replace the night team, no one was able to leave, drawn to Sheppard and Kolya’s silent vigil.

Despite everything, John never screamed. And Elizabeth knew that he wouldn’t give Kolya that satisfaction.

When Kolya pulled the last needle from John’s thigh, he stepped back so she could see him fully. The man was drenched in sweat and blood, body limp and tilting to the side and eyes closed. Only his hands showed that he was still conscious as they gripped the arms of the chair.

Kolya looked at the monitor, wiping the blood from his hands as he indicated towards John.

“Is this what you wanted, Dr. Weir? I’m rather enjoying myself, so if you want to prolong this standoff I can be a patient man.”

Elizabeth could find no words in a throat dry from horror, and next to her, she could see that Carson was also struggling to find something to say.

Walking away from the monitor towards John, Kolya removed the gag, revealing blood around John’s mouth, too. Elizabeth could not imagine what the man might have been doing to keep from screaming throughout the ordeal, but his eyes opened as Kolya leaned in closer to his face, looking directly at the monitor as he asked, “Do you have anything to say to your teammates, Colonel?”

And John somehow found the strength, lifted his head, and said with fire in his eyes, “Don’t … give … in.”

And Elizabeth knew those words were for her, and that she could not even consider giving in to the Genii now.

Kolya approached the monitor, staring evenly at it, although she knew that he could not see them. 

“This will continue, Dr. Weir,” he said. “This will continue until I get Ladon. What is one man’s life for another? Would you sacrifice this man for one you don’t know?”

And then he ended the transmission. The gate closed, and everyone watching felt as though they had been holding their breath for four hours.

Chapter Text

Sheppard slowly became aware of consciousness, light grinding into his eyes, and aching limbs and body making themselves known.

Peeling his eyes open proved to be quite an effort, but what he saw before quickly shutting them again was that he was back in his cell, unceremoniously dumped on the floor, and alone.

He tried to open his eyes again, this time adjusting a little better to the light. His clothes were still damp with blood, but beginning to dry in stiff folds. Tiny holes punctured his shirt and pants, but they were only noticeable in a few places. A bandage was wrapped around his right leg, but nowhere else. The familiar pulling pain in his thigh made Sheppard realize that Kolya had probably nicked an artery and they had attempted to fix it.

So they wanted him alive.

That meant that Elizabeth hadn’t given in, and he just needed to hold on a while longer.

He managed to prop himself up against the wall behind him and noticed another tray of the bread-like food and a pitcher of water. Although he wasn’t hungry or thirsty, he still forced everything down, not knowing when he would next get sustenance, and knowing his body needed the energy to heal.

“Where are you, Elizabeth?” he murmured. “I’d kinda like to be rescued now.”

But the silent walls didn’t answer him.

Teyla read Elizabeth’s report on Kolya’s last transmission and was barely able to get through it all. She knew that the transmission had been recorded, but could not bring herself to watch it. She was glad that they had been off world as she did not know what she might have done had she been there.

Her anger at Kolya’s treatment of John was beginning to burn a hole deep inside of her, and it was opening up a side of her that she had not imagined had existed. She was beginning to imagine all of the things she would do to the Genii once they saw him again, and this was never something she had thought of in regards to her enemies in the past.

She took out her anger first on the dummy in the training room, completely destroying it within an hour, and then she took out her anger on Rodney.

The scientist stared at her, eyes as large as an owl as she berated him for not finding the trail from Kolya’s ship.

“We searched for hours with your equipment, Rodney! Is there nothing more we can do?”

Rodney stammered, hovering between wanting to reach out to her and cowering under her wrath.

“We know what kind of ship he had, Teyla, but our jumpers lost the trail. It’s like he just disappeared. I’m working on it — I am. You have to give me more time—”

“John does not have more time!”

Rodney set his jaw, a look entering his eyes that Teyla had never seen before.

“I know,” he answered quietly. “And all of this is in my hands.”

And then Teyla folded, a sob wracking her body as she hid her face in her hands.

“I am sorry, Rodney,” she cried. “I know you are trying. But I can do nothing to help you … or him.”

And Rodney held her while she cried.

Sheppard was beginning to lose track of time and how many days he had been in the cell. He started scratching marks in the wall near the floor where no one would notice. He had to guess at how long the days were because the light never changed in his cell. The mind games that he played to keep himself sane were slowly beginning to taper off as he caught himself sitting listless, gazing at the door for ages without thinking of anything.

Thankfully, his body was slowly starting to heal, although he wasn’t able to wash off all of the blood that had dried to him and his clothes.

Food and water always came while he slept. Sometimes he caught a glimpse of the door closing silently on a vanishing heel, but he never saw anyone’s face, nor could he see out into the corridor beyond his cell.

A few times, they had gassed him, and when he came to, still in the cell, he found a fresh bandage on his leg. He was sure they were gassing him to make sure he couldn’t tell Atlantis where he was. 

Was that a clue? Would he know where he was if he was able to see outside of his cell?

And one day when they gassed him, he didn’t wake in his cell. He was back in what he liked to now call the “torture room,” and found himself lying on the floor, the room empty except for himself, Kolya, and five other men.

“He’s awake,” someone said.

Sheppard abruptly felt his arms pulled out from either side of his body and realized ropes had been wound around his wrists. He was hauled to his knees, arms outstretched between two of the men, head still reeling from the gas, but becoming more alert by the second in anticipation of what Kolya might have planned.

Kolya stood in front of him, his face unreadable.

“Not so very long ago, Colonel,” he said, “you killed over sixty of my men on Atlantis. These five men here were brothers, fathers, and sons of some of these men and women. And you are here to answer to their call for justice.”

Sheppard took in each of the five men and noted that they were all unarmed, but several had wrapped their hands.

He steeled himself, because he knew what was coming.

The next transmission that Atlantis received did not come live. It arrived as a large video file via a dummy gate so it couldn’t be tracked. 

Elizabeth sent a team to the address just in case, but they confirmed that the signal couldn’t have originated on the planet they explored.

As horrible as the transmission had been that they had last received from Kolya, Elizabeth had felt a distinct sense of camaraderie with Sheppard, knowing that everything was happening in real time. She felt that there was a connection where she could send him her strength and resilience to wherever he was, even if that feeling might have been only in her imagination.

This time, it was obvious the video had been recorded ahead of time and sent afterwards. How long afterwards was impossible to say. Carson explained in a tight voice at the debriefing that Sheppard had looked better at the beginning of the video, as though they had let him heal from his previous ordeal. But there was no way to know if the video had been recorded that day or a week in advance.

The video was only 23 minutes long.

The camera angle had changed but showed the same small empty room that they had seen twice since Sheppard’s more recent capture. It was angled down to show the entire room this time. Sheppard was on his knees in front of Kolya, arms outstretched and held with a rope by two men. Three other men surrounded him.

Kolya said nothing. He looked at the camera, lifted his hand, and they began.

No one used weapons, only fists and boots, but it was brutal. And Elizabeth knew that this was an act of revenge. Maybe Kolya’s men had heard of Sheppard, or maybe they had been involved with the fatal mission where Kolya had tried to take Atlantis. But it was clear that this was personal.

Sheppard fought. 

Elizabeth had never seen him fight like that. Snarling and lashing out with his feet, head, and any part of his body he could move, he fought like an animal. It was only hours afterwards that she realized why. He had experienced this before. Maybe in Afghanistan, or maybe elsewhere in his Black Ops career, but he had obviously been in the same situation.

He managed to get a hand free at one point and it took all five men plus Kolya to bring him down to the floor, pin him, and they continued to lay into him.

Elizabeth had to turn away several times, along with most of Sheppard’s team who had joined her in the debriefing room to watch the transmission. Only Ronon stared stoically at the screen, a snarl seeming to be permanently etched onto his face as he held back his anger, hands twisting and flexing as he tried to keep from roaring in rage.

Towards the end, Sheppard tried to get up again and someone pulled one of the ropes, wrenching his left arm completely out of the socket with an audible crack. The man who did so then stepped on his shoulder, pinning Sheppard in place while they re-secured the ropes. To his credit, Sheppard had not screamed until that point, but the sound that was ripped from his throat was not a scream but more like the cry of a wounded animal, inhuman and guttural.

The sound was enough to give the men around him pause, and Sheppard was finally given a reprieve, gasping for breath and spitting blood on the floor, curling on his side. 

His face was covered in blood which was gushing from a cut on his forehead. Someone had bashed his head against the wall in trying to get him to submit earlier. The white bandage that had been wrapped around his leg at the beginning was now soaked in red.

The men around him gasped for breath, breathing hard from the exertion of the past twenty minutes. Some even braced their hands on their knees as they gulped in air, wiping sweat from their brows.

Kolya had not participated but had stepped in on occasion when Sheppard was giving the men a hard time. Now, he turned to the camera.

“Colonel Sheppard’s time with me is getting shorter,” he said, “as is my patience with you, Dr. Weir. The next time you see him may be the last.”

He turned back to Sheppard, kicking his shoulder to flip him onto his back. Sheppard’s eyes rolled, clearly fighting unconsciousness as he weakly struggled against the ropes again.

Kolya stepped around to his head and kicked again, snapping Sheppard’s head brutally to the side. His whole body abruptly went limp.

The men in the room shuffled around, regaining their breath, then at Kolya’s signal, each spat on Sheppard’s prone body and moved back.

Looking back up at the camera, Kolya pointed to Sheppard’s unconscious body. “Ladon Radim. Lest you forget.”

When the video abruptly cut to black, Elizabeth was shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was in shock or anger, but she knew she had never felt rage such as she had felt in that very moment.

With effort, she said to the team, “Ladon hasn’t had contact with his man on the inside for several weeks. We have no leads. We have no idea where he is. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m sorry.”

Ronon stood stiffly, his face working as he tried to keep himself in check. “Sheppard’s running out of time. We have to do something!”

Teyla put her hand on his arm. “We have nothing to go on, Ronon. Kolya has been much more careful since the last time we found him. We have found no clues in the transmissions or the gate addresses they are sent from.”

“He’s going to die, isn’t he?” McKay’s voice was unusually quiet, and his face was one of dismay, eyes red and his features haggard from hours of trying to track Kolya’s ship.

Elizabeth set her jaw. “We won’t let him die.”

But inside, her will was beginning to shrivel as she knew they had no leads, and McKay, as brilliant as he was, could not seem to find a way to track Kolya’s ship. And perhaps, just perhaps, she would have to go against protocol. Sheppard would hate her, and she would most definitely be relieved of her command, but she could not leave him to suffer under Kolya’s hand any longer.

Chapter Text

The ground underneath him was passing by too fast. Earthy, damp, wooden smells surrounded him. Harsh stone grabbed at his knees and the toes of his boots. Hands dug into his armpits and torso hauling him forward. He felt sick and gagged, weakly fighting the hands that had him.

“Dammit, he’s awake,” someone said.

The room spun and his ears were ringing, but he saw he was in a corridor that looked familiar. There was a wall next to him that he had seen before.

Then a fist slammed into the side of his head, and the next thing he knew he was back in his cell, retching, tears streaming from his eyes at the pain in his ribs and torso as his body rebelled against him. He barely made it to the depression in the floor that had served as his toilet, and when he was done, he collapsed on the floor. He gasped for breath and fought through what was definitely sharp stabbing pain from several broken ribs.

The longer he lay there, fighting the spinning in the room, the more he realized all of the other injuries that were beginning to make themselves known. And there was one in particular he knew he needed to take care of.

Taking his time, he pushed himself to a sitting position, leaning against the wall and gingerly feeling his left shoulder. He couldn’t move it at all without gasping in pain, and every breath was agony with broken ribs. Pulling the neck of his torn shirt down, he could see massive bruising and swelling around the joint. Definitely a dislocated shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, he carefully lifted the dislocated arm up straight in front of him with his right hand and slowly pulled. It took a few seconds, but he felt the shoulder joint slide back into place. Gasping from the effort, he leaned back against the wall, his head spinning and feeling sick once again.

Swallowing, he managed to get his stomach under control and tried to assess his other injuries. His bruises had bruises, and his body was covered in them. His wrists were raw and bloody from the rope, and he was sure that his right wrist was broken. In addition to the broken ribs, he also suspected that his right lower leg was broken, and possibly his left. The bandage on his right thigh had been re-wrapped, but otherwise it looked as though his injuries had not been treated. Standing up was not in the realm of possibility at the moment.

But he had no doubt that in-between the beating and finding himself back in his cell he had seen something. He knew where he was. And he had to find a way to let his team know about it.

Because he was sure that Kolya was on the verge of not holding back.

Kolya watched Sheppard in his cell on the screen. The man had lain unconscious for several hours after his men had deposited him back inside the room, but then he stirred, vomiting and then moments later carefully setting his injured shoulder. 

He made no attempt to get up after that, and it was obvious that the little that he had done already had sapped his strength. He leaned heavily against the wall, pressed into the corner as though the walls could give him strength. His dark hair glistened with blood, face covered in shadow and red. Every visible part of his skin was covered in black, blue and red. 

If it weren’t for the doctor’s reassurances, Kolya would have believed that Sheppard was close to death. As it was, the doctor said that at the very least he might suffer from a few long term effects if they left his wounds and broken bones untreated. He wanted to do a scan to see what internal injuries the man might have, but Kolya forbade him. The doctor was also quite concerned that Sheppard be treated within the day to avoid surgery later. But Kolya wasn’t interested in the long term.

Watching the beating had given Kolya intense pleasure, although he was careful not to show it outwardly to the men in the room and the camera in the ceiling. Although he had told Sheppard he would have settled for Dr. McKay, he was pleased that they had managed to capture Sheppard instead.

This man had taken so many of his men’s lives, cleverly outwitting him at every turn. The chance to have his revenge while at the same time possibly convince Dr. Weir to hand over his other enemy, Ladon Radim, made Kolya quite possibly the most happy he had been in a very long time, in spite of the fact that it seemed that Atlantis was as unbreakable as Sheppard with their stubborn resilience. There had still been no offer from Dr. Weir to even find Ladon, and Kolya was feeling angrier as the days passed.

At the same time, he felt troubled. Sheppard was a worthy adversary, but every man had his limits. No matter what Kolya had done, Sheppard remained unbroken. There was still a flash of defiance in his eyes every time he saw Kolya. Even in the solitary confinement of his cell, Sheppard stayed belligerent. Although his body was broken, it was clear that his mind was not. Sitting in that dark corner, Kolya could see Sheppard’s eyes glittering under his blood-soaked brow, still glaring at the camera.

Even when he had been held captive with the Wraith, the man had somehow managed to wrangle a deal with the creature. He had managed to convince the blood-thirsty alien to help him escape the first time, and then somehow managed to regain back the years that the Wraith had taken. His negotiating skills and charm were traits that Kolya admired and hated at the same time. Sheppard did not seem to ever give up, even when the odds were stacked against him.

The Wraith, Kolya had been told, had completely disappeared. It had probably slipped through the Stargate at its first opportunity, back to its own vile kind. It was a shame to lose such a weapon, but it was nothing Kolya could concern himself with at the moment. It might have given him more pleasure to use the Wraith against Sheppard one last time and imagine the look on Dr. Elizabeth Weir’s face as she watched the life being drained from the Colonel once again. It would have been quite a bonus to have completely drained Sheppard’s life two times. Who had ever thought that it was possible for the Wraith to give life back, as well as to take it?

Kolya pondered what to do next in persuading Dr. Weir to give in, watching the man on the screen in front of him.

Eventually, Sheppard’s body gave in, and he collapsed to the floor, unable to sit up any longer. He lay still for hours. Kolya would check the camera again and again, and still Sheppard had not moved.

Whether he lived or died in the next days was not Kolya’s concern. If it came down to it, he would send Sheppard’s cold, dead body back to Atlantis as another warning to Dr. Weir. It would be her fault that Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard had died at his hands. And he would make sure that she had seen everything that he had done and was going to do to the man.

Because he knew that she would break.

Elizabeth had sent several messages to Ladon, each unanswered. She hated to be the desperate one, but it was clear that with each message she sent him, her desperation was becoming more and more visible. Before he had left Atlantis, he promised he would do his best to find Kolya and his men and that he would contact her. Now, she was wondering if he was avoiding her in order to stay alive. She was sure that he suspected they might turn him over to Kolya in order to save Sheppard. And sadly, she knew that his instincts were right.

When McKay finally stepped into her office, jittery from caffeine and haggard from lack of sleep, she finally broke down.

“I want to turn Ladon over to Kolya,” she told him, her voice cracking.

McKay blinked. “You want to do what?”

“Protocol be damned. We have to get him back. That last transmission …” She lifted her chin stubbornly, not wanting to finish her thought. “I want you to find Ladon. Put everything you have into it. I will give you anything you want. I want Ladon.”

“Elizabeth —”

“You heard me, Rodney.” The harshness in her voice scared even herself. “This has gone on long enough. John isn’t going to last much longer. We don’t know when Kolya made that recording. We don’t know how much longer he has. He might even be dead now.” 

Her voice cracked on the word dead. It was impossible to think of him as dead. John Sheppard, full of life, action, movement. Alive.

McKay sighed, wiping his face with his hand, eyes squeezed shut against what was surely a migraine. When he spoke, it was quiet, but honest.

“He’s going to hate you.”

Elizabeth said nothing.

“You’ll lose your command.”

Again, she said nothing, steepling her hands and looking straight at him.

“I know,” she said softly. “He’s worth it.”

Amidst a haze of pain and blurry, fever induced images, Sheppard felt himself being shaken. His injured left shoulder made itself known and he heard a wounded gasp from far away. Was it himself making that noise or something else?

Hands grasped him, digging into both shoulders and jerking him upright, making the pain of the left shoulder oh-so-much-more sharp and demanding and he snapped his eyes open, desperately grasping at consciousness and finding himself propped up against the wall, Kolya’s hands on his shoulders holding him in place.

“Finally awake,” the Genii said. “Doctor.”

Another man Sheppard felt he had seen before in dreams crouched down with what appeared to be a small scanner in his hands.

“No better,” the man murmured. “He’s developed a fever. Internal bleeding. Possibly has a ruptured liver and spleen. Might have a few days if I don’t do surgery. Longer if I do.”

Kolya stared at Sheppard, taking in the unfocused, bruised eyes and blood covered face looking through him.

“What say you, Colonel,” he said, softly. “Do you want to live?” 

For a long moment, Sheppard said nothing, his breathing labored, but his throat working as though he were trying to produce enough saliva to speak. He finally managed to turn his eyes to Kolya’s, the defiance still there.

“Go to hell, Kolya,” he finally whispered.

Kolya’s face hardened. Pushing himself to his feet, he turned to the doctor.

“Prep him. No surgery. I will have one last session with him before he meets the grave.” He paused, then added, “It’s a shame we never found the Wraith. It would have been fitting to bring this full circle.” 

Turning and leaving the cell, Sheppard was left with the doctor and two of Kolya’s guards. The guards leaned forward, gripping his arms to hold him still as the doctor produced a thin halo of metal which he pressed over Sheppard’s head, completely encircling his brow.

“I’m very sorry about this,” the doctor said. “Hopefully it will be quick.” 

Sheppard struggled, but was shocked at how weak he was as the men easily held him in place. Everything hurt, and every move only made things feel worse.

The doctor pressed something and a thin whine pierced his skull, driving deep and spreading from his sinuses along every nerve in his body, intensifying until Sheppard was thrown into an involuntary convulsion. His head smacked into the wall behind him, eyes rolled back, and the hands on his arms holding him tight dug deeper until the whine ceased and the spasms subsided. He was left gasping in agony, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming. He blinked, his vision blurring and beginning to flatten and go grey.

There was a shift of movement through a haze of pain and the hands left him. He felt a pinprick in his neck, and the world tilted sideways into night.

When he woke again, he was in the chair, wrists and ankles secured and a tight, thick strap around his chest, the gag over his mouth. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t have been able to get out of the chair even without the restraints.

But this time, as he blinked off the sedative, he saw the camera and monitor in front of him.

He couldn’t imagine what he might look like to the team on Atlantis, and he cringed inside, trying to straighten and show them that he was still there. He was still fighting. And with or without a gag, he knew he could still send them the message that he was sure they needed, or else he knew he would have been rescued days ago.

Chapter Text

When the gate dialed and the technician announced, white-faced, that it was a live transmission from Kolya, Elizabeth felt her heart drop. But she summoned Sheppard’s team to the gate room, steeling herself for what they were about to witness.

Ronon had never left the gate room, and she could see him, tense and ready to fight, watching the screen with desperate eyes as the camera turned on Sheppard.

At first, Elizabeth wasn’t sure if he was alive. He was bound to a chair and gagged, dark head hanging limply. After a few seconds, though, she saw him take a deep breath and raise his head to stare at the screen. A metal halo had been placed around his head. Dark bruises colored both eyes, and blood had dried in ghastly streaks down his face. Every exposed area of his skin was mottled with bruises and blood and he held himself stiffly. Elizabeth was sure he was in great pain but to his credit, he did not make a sound when Kolya grabbed a fistful of his hair, twisting cruelly to make sure he was still looking at the camera.

“This is what you are holding out for, Dr. Weir,” Kolya said. “My doctor tells me he is dying. Internal injuries and such. He has a matter of days, if not hours at this point. As you refuse to send me Ladon, I will send Colonel Sheppard’s corpse back to you when I am finally finished with him. For now, you can witness this.”

Kolya stepped back, releasing Sheppard, whose head lolled, but then somehow managed to find the strength to bring his eyes back to the camera, blinking angrily.

“Kolya, let him go,” Elizabeth commanded, knowing her threat was weak. “We can’t get Ladon for you, even if we wanted to. He’s disappeared.”

Kolya moved closer to the camera, a device in his hand, completely ignoring her.

“You’ve witnessed Wraith and Genii techniques when it comes to persuasion. This is one that we discovered in one of our conquests of a neighboring world. It’s a rather ingenious device. I’m told it convinces the brain that the nerves are on fire. Or at least it feels that way. Some say it’s the most painful thing they have ever experienced. I even killed a man using it once. Granted, it was one of the first times we used it and we’ve learned a lot about it since then. But I could kill the Colonel with it today. In fact, it might be a mercy.” He turned to Sheppard. “What do you think? Are you ready to die, Colonel?”

Sheppard glared at him, dark eyes glittering, blinking fiercely. Kolya smiled, knowing that the man couldn’t answer.

Weir was certain that the look in Kolya’s eyes was of utter glee when he pressed the button on the device. Behind him, Sheppard’s body was thrown into convulsions, eyes rolling as the chair rattled, his hands curling and neck straining in a soundless scream. It was horrifyingly reminiscent of when the Wraith had begun to drain him of life only weeks beforehand.

“Kolya! Stop!” Elizabeth cried.

Again, the man ignored her, but after a moment, Kolya pressed the button again, and the convulsions gradually subsided, leaving Sheppard shaking and sweating in the chair.

“Did I hear you say something, Dr. Weir?” Kolya questioned casually.

Elizabeth was steaming. “You heard me. We can’t get Ladon. He’s disappeared. He won’t answer our calls. We’ve tried to find him. He knows you want him.”

Kolya shrugged. “Then I guess it won’t matter if I leave this on.”

He pressed the button again, throwing Sheppard into convulsions once more, then turned back to the camera.

“Say goodbye to Colonel Sheppard. You won’t see him again.”

The monitor went dark and the Stargate closed, leaving Atlantis silent in shock.

“I have it!” McKay’s exclamation was so sudden that it abruptly broke the tension of the room.

“What?” Elizabeth rounded on him.

“It’s an old POW trick,” he said excitedly. “Did you notice Sheppard blinking? It was Morse code. He kept saying ‘same place.’ Kolya never left. He’s still in the bunker.”

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth breathed.

“It makes total sense now,” McKay stammered. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it. I couldn’t track his ship because it never left!”

Ronon was already moving with Teyla in his wake. “Get me a team,” he ordered. “We need to go — now!”

And suddenly, the gate room was a flurry of motion. The strike force was put together in record time. Less than ten minutes after the transmission from Kolya ended, they had dialed back to the planet where it had all started, and where they believed it had ended weeks ago.

He felt like he was floating.

The halo had initially felt like it was tearing his skin apart, turning it inside out to expose every nerve under the surface. It took everything in him to keep from screaming in agony, to beg for Kolya to stop. And even when he realized that he couldn't hold back a scream, his body refused to obey him and let him scream, catching him and freezing him in time.

He faintly heard Elizabeth’s voice cutting through the fog, but then his body couldn’t take anymore and sent him back, high above the room. Floating. Because that was all he could do. His body wouldn’t respond to his commands, and he felt like he was losing his mind. All coherent thought was leaving him and oppressing him only with pain, pain, pain.

He felt fingers in his hair, the gag being ripped off, the restraints being removed, but could do nothing. Hands pulling and grasping at his body and he could do nothing. Feet dragging, head limp, eyes unseeing as he shook in their grip.

Then cold, hard metal and the taste of iron in his mouth as he was thrown to the floor. He shook, hands curling in, body wracked with pain, and pressed his face to the coolness of the floor as he waited for death to come and take him.

Ronon found Sheppard first. He was lying on his side in a cell, unconscious, tremors wracking his body. Ronon dropped to his knees at his side, ripped off the halo from around his head and rolled him over, gently checking for other injuries.

Ronon was never a man who cried, but he felt tears burning in his eyes at the sight of his commanding officer. 

Kolya had put him through hell. The fact that Sheppard was still alive only spoke further to the man’s resilience. 

He was covered in blood and bruises, gasping in small breaths for air even in unconsciousness in a way that Ronon knew all too well. They had broken his ribs, and the bruising through the tears under his shirt on his torso probably meant things were more than broken inside. His skin was burning with fever.

“Carson!” he screamed. “In here!”

There was a rush of footsteps, and Carson, McKay, and Teyla burst through the door, all coming up short at the sight of Sheppard, broken, bloody, and trembling uncontrollably in Ronon’s arms.

“He’s hurt bad, Doc,” Ronon said desperately, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

“Oh my God.” Carson dropped to his knees next to Sheppard. “What did they do to you, lad?”

“I took that thing off,” Ronon nodded at the discarded halo.

“We take it with us,” Carson said grimly. “I’m hoping it didn’t do any neurological damage but we can’t be too certain.”

He ran expert hands over Sheppard’s body, then called for a gurney. Two men rushed in and they gently moved Sheppard from Ronon’s arms onto the stretcher. 

Telya, Ronon, Carson, and McKay never left his side while the strike force fanned out, ready to defend Sheppard to the end as they moved from the bunker to the Stargate. 

They had encountered no resistance when they had exited the Stargate and then entered the building, and any Genii who had been there had obviously left in a hurry. McKay thought he saw a ship lifting off in the forest beyond the bunker, and they all knew that once again, Kolya had gotten away.

Elizabeth had been waiting, feeling like she had been holding her breath when they finally emerged through the ‘gate. Through the strike team pressing in around the gurney all she saw was a bruised, blood-covered hand until the team parted as they came further into the room. She bit back a sob when she saw John’s broken body on the gurney, limbs trembling uncontrollably and skin covered in blood and bruises.

Carson rushed him to the infirmary, and Elizabeth knew that they had to let him do his work. She turned to Sheppard’s team.

“What happened?”

“Kolya has evaded capture once again,” Teyla responded. “It appears he has many places to escape from within the bunker and we were unable to find him in time.”

“I saw a ship lifting off on our way back to the Stargate,” Rodney added. “It’s unlikely anyone will be on the planet if we go back unless the ship isn’t space worthy.”

“Let me go back,” Ronon demanded. “I want to kill him.”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Elizabeth replied. “But we have John back. I think we need to concentrate on helping him now. You can assemble your team and head back once we’re sure Kolya won’t have the upper hand or try to ambush us again.”

“We scanned the immediate area,” Rodney said. “Even if we went back I’m pretty sure Kolya’s long gone by now. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Although it was pretty clever to hide right under our noses.”

“How was he?” Elizabeth asked, indicating towards the infirmary.

“Unconscious,” Telya replied. “I am unsure as to the true state of his health — physically and mentally. He did not wake.”

“It was bad.” Ronon’s eyes held murder. “They almost killed him.”

Rodney looked at the halo that he had grabbed from the floor of the cell. “I’m going to go see what this thing is. Carson might need it.” He pointedly said nothing about the dried blood on the thin metal band, feeling sick as he knew what Sheppard must have suffered in the past weeks.

“Keep me updated,” Elizabeth nodded.

Ronon was a coiled snake, ready to strike and trembling with rage. Teyla put her hand on his arm, steadying him.

“Ronon, we can do nothing now. You must have patience. Kolya’s time will come. Let us go to the infirmary so we will be there for John when he awakes. He needs us.”

Ronon paused for a moment, seething, then melted and nodded, following Teyla to the infirmary.

Elizabeth took a deep breath, grateful to Teyla and not knowing what she might have done with a rogue Ronon on her hands as well as waiting for Carson’s prognosis.

Countless times Sheppard and his team had returned through the ‘gate fine and whole. Countless times they had stumbled back torn and bleeding. 

This was always the worst part. The waiting. 

But she had him. She got John back. Even if he had done the work for them by telling them where he was. 

He was back. And hopefully their rescue had not come too late.

Chapter Text

“It isn’t good, Elizabeth,” Carson said sadly, shaking his head.

She sat at the foot of John’s bed, unable to stand when she saw him. He was still unconscious, and, according to Carson, had not woken since he arrived. His face and body had been cleaned of blood, and there had been so much blood. But the exposed bruises and lacerations and bandages covering his body almost made it worse as she imagined and replayed Kolya’s torture sessions in her mind. She remembered every blow, every electrical surge, every puncture wound as her eyes scanned John’s broken body. She longed to see his fierce dark eyes and know that he was ok. Now, bruised eyelids remained closed.

“He had a ruptured liver and spleen. Torn artery in his leg. Internal bleeding. A concussion. Multiple broken bones — God, Elizabeth. His teeth were cracked, probably from —” 

His voice caught and she knew the good doctor couldn’t continue. To keep from screaming, she knew he was going to say. He had probably relived everything done to John while trying to repair his body, and she couldn’t imagine how the doctor felt now.

“Oh Carson.”

She reached out for his hand again and held it tightly.

“McKay says the device Kolya used shouldn’t have any long lasting effects,” he continued, his voice a bit stronger. “But if we hadn't gotten to him when we did …” Carson couldn’t finish his thought. “He still might not make it. He barely made it through surgery. If he can get through the night then he has a chance.”

“He’ll make it,” Elizabeth said. “He has to.”

Sheppard did make it through the night. And the next night. And the next. But he still didn’t wake up, and Carson could not explain why.

“Sometimes when the body is traumatized it has its own way of healing,” he told Sheppard’s team. “He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

He had been gone nearly three weeks. And Elizabeth Weir hardened her resolve in finding Kolya and bringing him to justice for what he had done to Sheppard. Ladon still remained silent, although she sent a report to his people to let him know that they were searching for Acastus Kolya, and if she could have given out the equivalent of a bounty for his head, she would have done so gladly.

Four days after arriving, one of Carson’s nurses was checking on Sheppard when he woke, feverish. The man had been reaching towards Sheppard's chest to adjust a bandage, and Sheppard panicked. 

Carson walked in just as the Colonel grabbed the nurse’s wrist in one hand and neck in the other, somehow lunging from where he had been lying and bodily flipping the man onto the foot of the bed, teeth bared and eyes wild. 

Alarms blared as the monitors and needles were torn out of his arms and chest with the movement, and Carson rushed forward, then quickly brought himself up short, remembering the trauma that Sheppard had been through.

“Colonel, son,” he said gently, “Let go of the man.”

Sheppard was breathing hard and fast, kneeling on the bed over the nurse who was choking under his hand.

“John, you’re safe. You’re home. You’re back in Atlantis. It’s ok, just let go.” Carson slowly moved closer.

Sheppard blinked, flushed and confused, trying to focus, then slowly released his hold on the nurse and collapsed.

Carson managed to catch him before he fell off the bed, but it was clear the man was not entirely there.

“That’s it, son,” Carson said gently, easing Sheppard back into the bed with the nurse’s help. The Colonel closed his eyes and did not open them again.

“I don’t know what happened,” the nurse apologized as they carefully began cleaning up the blood on Sheppard’s arms where the needles had been torn out.

“You were reaching for his chest, Max,” Carson replied. “He probably thought you were the Wraith. He might be feverish, but he doesn’t know he’s home yet. He just needs more time.”

Ronon sat next to Sheppard one night, almost a week after they had brought him back to Atlantis. Sheppard had been so still those first three days, but now he started thrashing in delirium, muttering in a strange language. His eyes never opened, and when Carson came to give him something to calm him, he told Ronon it was a language from Earth. Something Sheppard had picked up during the war. He might have been reliving his POW experience in his dreams.

“What’s a POW?” Ronon asked as he and the doctor watched Sheppard slip back into a fitful sleep.

“Prisoner of war. The Colonel was captured years ago by enemies in Afghanistan. But I don’t know what happened. He never speaks of it.”

“Do you think it was this bad?” Ronon asked quietly.

Carson shook his head. “I don’t know. I hope not. But in a way, it might help him recover if he’s been through this before. Or it will be worse because he didn’t expect to go through it again. Sometimes the mind makes one forget trauma. Sometimes it forces you to relive it for weeks or years afterwards.”

The next night as Ronon sat as his bedside, Sheppard opened his eyes.

“Hey buddy,” he whispered.

“Sheppard!” Ronon surged to his feet, torn between patting Sheppard on the shoulder, hugging him, or calling for the doctor.

Sheppard winced, his eyes glassy and trying hard to focus. “Where …?”

“You’re home.” Ronon pulled the chair closer to the bed. “You’re safe. Carson is fixing you up.”

“’S good.” Sheppard’s eyes slid closed.

Teyla told Ronon the following day that Sheppard had woken briefly with her as well. He had asked the same questions and they had had the same conversation before he fell asleep again. Carson said it was the concussion.

“It can affect the memory,” he explained. “It will take a while before he realizes he’s really home. But it’s good he’s waking up and is showing some coherency.”

Slowly, Sheppard was able to stay awake longer and longer, and started putting together that he was actually in Atlantis and he wasn’t dreaming that he had been rescued. He had a few setbacks when his fever spiked again, and Carson was forced to do another surgery when it turned out his liver was more damaged than he thought.

“You’ve only got half a liver left now, laddie,” he said, patting Sheppard on the shoulder. “But it will grow back. It’s an amazing organ.”

The only person who avoided Sheppard was McKay. He finally drifted by one morning when John was attempting to eat some chicken broth with shaky hands.

“Hey McKay.”

“I’ll come back,” Rodney said quickly. “Don’t want to disturb your breakfast.”

“No, stay. I haven’t seen you at all since I got back.”

McKay stood nervously, fidgeting for a moment before pulling up a chair.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“That I didn’t find you sooner. I should have realized the reason we couldn’t track Kolya’s ship was because he never left orbit. It was a stupid mistake. We — we nearly lost you because of it. You basically had to rescue yourself.”

Sheppard laughed, then grimaced as his broken ribs reminded him that laughing was painful.

“I didn’t rescue myself. You did.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” McKay protested. “If you hadn’t blinked out where you were we would have never known.”

“And if you hadn’t realized what I was doing I’d still be there.”

“No, if you —” McKay paused as he realized what Sheppard had said. “Oh.”

“Someone else might have realized it later, but Ronon and Teyla don’t know Morse code. I’m not sure if Elizabeth is up to par in military knowledge. And it didn’t sound like any of the other guys in the room noticed either. Teyla told me you had it right away. You knew what I was saying.”

McKay felt torn between guilt and pride.

“Sheppard, what they did to you …”

“They did it.” Sheppard’s voice was hard, his jaw set. He looked straight at Rodney. “As bad as it was, it’s over now. I’d rather focus on recovering than reliving the past. I’ve done it before and I’m going to do it again.”

“You’ve done it before?” McKay was surprised.

Sheppard hesitated, the spoon frozen halfway back to the bowl. “Afghanistan,” he finally said. “A lot happened there that I’d rather not talk about.”

“Well — right. Yes. I guess you’re right, then.” McKay uncomfortably twisted his hands, then, not able to stand the awkward silence that followed, added, “So, recovery. How long do you have to stay in the infirmary?”

Sheppard shrugged. “It’s already been over a week and I’m starting to get pretty bored. Carson says it will be a while. Lots of broken bones and busted insides I guess.” He indicated the braces on his legs. “Still can’t walk yet but Beckett says it wasn’t as bad as he thought.”

“I can bring my chess set if it helps?”McKay offered. “We need a rematch anyway.”

“Doc says no chess.”

“What? But you just move little pieces around a board!”

“Concussion. I’m still having some … problems. So nothing that makes my brain work too hard yet.”

“Ah. Ok. A book, then? Have you finished ‘War and Peace’?”

Sheppard rolled his eyes. “How about just visiting? Just come for a visit every once in a while, Rodney. Tell me about your latest science lab stuff.”

“‘Science lab stuff,’” McKay huffed. “I’ll have you know we have been working on some pretty cool ‘stuff’ if I say so myself.”

And Sheppard settled down, closing his eyes with a smile on his face as McKay proceeded to give him the rundown on the latest in the lab. 

To McKay it looked like he didn’t listen to a word. Or maybe he did.

When Elizabeth stopped by later, Sheppard was awake, but struggling.

“Hey,” he said with a lopsided grin as she stepped into the room.

“Hi, John,” she replied softly. She sat at his side, careful to touch a part of his arm that seemed the least bruised and bandaged. “How are you doing?”

“Doc’s got me on the good stuff,” he replied. “I’m sure I look worse than I feel.”

“We have been worried about you,” she admitted. “Carson wasn’t sure if you were going to pull through.”

“But I did,” he smiled. “It’s gonna be a long path to recovery, but it will happen.”

“John, I have a confession to make.” She looked at him, trying to read his tired, bruised eyes. “I … I was going to give him Ladon. I wasn’t going to at first. I wanted to respect your wishes and follow protocol, but … After they sent the second tape I just couldn’t. I couldn’t watch you suffer anymore.”

Sheppard watched patiently, saying nothing as she struggled.

“The only reason I didn’t give him Ladon was because Ladon and his men disappeared. I think he knew. He knew it was getting worse with Kolya. He knew I would give in.”

She searched his eyes, trying to read his expression. Sheppard sat quietly for a long while. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “No one is unbreakable, Elizabeth. Kolya found your weakness and exploited it. Next time, we need to find his.”

And she nodded, because it was exactly what she needed to hear him say. She only hoped he believed what he said and that they would find Kolya and make him pay for what the Genii had done to him.

Sheppard was quiet for a long moment. “Thanks for rescuing me,” he finally said.

Hesitating before saying more, she finally looked at him and said, “How are you doing, John? How are you really doing?”

He sighed, looking thoughtful and tired at the same time.

“Beckett says I’ll heal. Make a full recovery,” he finally replied.

Elizabeth tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not what I asked.”

He gave her a small smile, but she could see he was disturbed. “I know.”

“You don’t have to write a report yet,” she said.

“But I will,” he nodded. “Stargate Command will want to see that. Make sure I’m fit for duty.”

“Are you? Fit for duty?”

“Right now? No. I can’t even walk on my own two legs.”

“That’s not what I meant, John.”

He closed his eyes, looking exhausted.

“This wasn’t like Afghanistan,” he finally said quietly. “They wanted information there. Kolya didn’t want anything. He just wanted to use me to get to you.”

“We both might need a shrink after this,” she suggested lightly. But deep down she knew she would never forget seeing his face twisted in agony on that monitor.

He chuckled softly and opened his eyes, suddenly serious. “You know how I got through Afghanistan? I knew my team was coming for me. And even if I didn’t survive, I knew that they would have tried. At least … at that point they would have tried. And it didn’t matter if they failed or if they couldn't get to me. It was the fact that I knew that somewhere, someone was trying to find me.” He looked directly at her. “All you need is hope. Hope kept me going then and it kept me going with everything happening with Kolya. And it’s going to keep us all going. That’s how we got here in the first place. Atlantis wouldn’t be Atlantis without the hope of the people here.”

Elizabeth smiled sadly. She knew that John was right. And he always knew the right thing to say, especially when it seemed like there was no hope left. 

Because Sheppard, unlike her, needed to believe that he was unbreakable.