Yo, my lovelies. This is unexpected, no? I had fully intended to have a break from writing, but then this appeared. It's going to be multi chapter; I already have most of the second one written! So, not only had I not planned on writing, but my one-shot idea has gone straight out the window. I'm doing well, aren't I? Ah well, it's fun!

I hope ya'll enjoy. This picks up just before Reflection and through it, though it'll continue long past, I don't know yet how far. A few chapters at least. We follow Colonel Young this time, who turns out to be a very interesting character. For those of you that hate him, sorry, but no Young-bashing, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was chatting with Tiger, and we've both realised that there is a helluva lot more to this man than meets the eye. He's a very contradictory character, very complex- we think we know about him, but I'm not sure anything is quite what it seems. There are moments on the show that reveal something else entirely. Wait until y'all see 'Sabotage' (Snickers. I've gone from being behind to being ahead. Gotta love Youtube :-p) it's the little things, the nuances.

So, this time we explore his character and personality. Let me know what you think! Reviewing is massively appreciated, especially given that he's turned out to be a difficult character to capture, and I'd like your opinions.

PLEASE READ THIS BIT: a note on the story structure and formatting. thanks to Celtic Lady for pointing these out, I'm a schmuck for forgetting to say it! i did in the last story... I'm using UK English, rather than American English, so a lot of my spelling may be different to what some of you are used to. (Word auto corrects in UK, rather than American, I'm afraid) We tend to use 's' rather than 'z' (realise), and we have a lot of useless double letters (dialling, rather than dialing) sorry if any confusion arises! I hope it more makes sense now.

also: use of italics. a common theme throughout my stories is that italics have been used to distinguish thoughts. This still holds true. However, itallics are also used to emphasis a point (particularly now in this story when there will be many people trying to get their point across), when someone is stressing a word to give it greater effect. When this occurs, the will form part of a sentence enclosed in speech marks. This is actually someone talking, but emphasising their words.

And yes, I have shamelessly plugged some of CL's ideas into the story! Thanks, my lovely!

Not mine. Not ever. Unless of course they want scriptwriters…

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"According to Destiny, we have an 'M'-Class planet."

He blinked. A what? Turning, he fixed the young mathematician with a frown.

"Umm, sorry. Never mind. Err, basically breathable, good environment, stable, water, you know."

He couldn't have just said that, why? Face expressionless, the Colonel nodded.

"Okay. Dial it up, we'll send a Kino through. No point in taking chances," he elaborated when Eli opened his mouth to question. Given the way their luck had gone recently, it'd be just typical to get there and find the atmosphere had become toxic at some point in the last million years. Besides, protocol was protocol. He watched the younger man a moment, thoughtful. He looked tired, irritated- always worrying in someone who was usually so exuberant. A heavy burden had, admittedly, been placed upon his shoulders by Young himself; solving the puzzle that had been Rush's work had proved an exercise in frustration for him. So much of the detail had been beyond even the other members of the science team, yet the mathematician had ploughed doggedly onwards and made some, albeit small, progress, the work consuming his waking hours when he wasn't delving into Destiny's systems.

Things weren't easy between them anymore, and he felt that loss. More than that, Eli had been questioning him recently, and with growing frequency; gone was the child who blithely followed orders, glad to have something to do and a chance to play with his 'toys'. In his place was appearing an increasingly-mature young man, one who thought occasionally before he acted; who, it seemed, questioned sometimes for the sake of questioning. Much like someone else I knew. Oh, the jovial manner was still there, but there was an edge to it now, with him at least, that had gradually developed over the last few weeks, a faint air that reminded Young of his cantankerous predecessor. As if summoned, he could feel Rush at his shoulder, that mysterious, contemptuous half-smirk half-sneer twisting the thin lips. The smile that said 'I have a secret.' The one the scientist reserved just for him.

Is that man ever going to stop haunting me?

Turning, banishing the ghost, his gaze caught Camille Wray, standing alone by the entrance to the Gate-room. He nodded, before continuing on to watch the Stargate. That was another relationship that had become even more strained in the last month; there was no buffer between them now, hadn't even realised there had been one until it was gone. She had yet to openly accuse him, but it was on her mind, and it was only a matter of time before she came out and said it. It was there, though, the unspoken accusation, and he knew that she knew that he knew it. They had never been in the same camp, far from it, and eventually she would make a power play of her own. Not an eventuality he was looking forward to, but one that was inevitable. He had yet to decide what to do about it. About her. Stifling a sigh, he fought down the urge to shift impatiently.

"Is there a problem?"

Nothing was happening.

"Err, no. Hang on."

Not a response he wanted to hear. Another problem. Three weeks, and they were still just scraping by. Even with Eli concentrating on the Notebook, and the science team working round the clock, simply just repairing the systems they knew about and keeping them working was agonisingly slow, never mind starting on anything new. Sometimes, quite often, in fact, it felt like one step forward, three steps back. There were a great many things he could say about Rush, none of them pleasant, but the bitter truth was the man had been worth the rest of the scientists put together. Damn him. He pushed aside the guilt thoughts of the Doctor always brought.

"Got it." The youths' relief was audible.

Captivated, time became suspended as he watched the ring begin to spin.

"Every time," came a soft voice. To his left, unnoticed, stood Lieutenant Tamara Johansen. He made a noise of agreement; the Stargate was spectacular, the science and technology behind it was mind blowing. To be able to create a stable wormhole that could disintegrate you one side, and recreate you on the other, on a completely different planet…it was incredible. With a whoosh, the wormhole exploded into life, expanded, like air underwater, and settled into the rippled event horizon that connected them to the planet below.

He felt her move away, her departure palpable. Swallowing, he turned; acknowledging the arrival of Lieutenant Scott and Sergeant Greer with a nod, he ordered Eli to send the Kino. He tracked its' movement through the air until it disappeared, and waited.

"Okay, we have nice blue skies, fluffy clouds, grass, trees, lots of trees, breathable air, perfect temperature, warm, average humidity, oh my God!"

To his shock, Eli made a run for the Gate. By far faster than the young man, Greer quickly stepped forward and caught his arm, slowing his passage and spinning him round.

"Let me go!" Eli demanded.

"What the hell-" Greer jerked him backwards, thoroughly bewildered and making no attempt to hide it. Given that a confused Greer was usually an angry one, Eli scowled, evidently irritated at having to take the time to explain.

"You're not going to believe this-" Young glanced in Brody's direction, where he remained clutching at the console. The scientist looked over at Eli; at any other time his expression would have been cause for amusement, but not now.

"How…" His voice was drowned out by the excited chattering of a few of the crew who had gathered at his shoulder to see what the commotion was over.

"Enough!"

Silence; everybody froze, turning to stare at the Colonel. Good. What the hell was going on? Scott looked up from the display, which he'd moved instantly to, wide-eyed and shocked.

"Sir…it's Doctor Rush, Sir. There. On the planet. He's…waving!"

The announcement hung in the air, stunning enough to make the Sergeants' grip go slack, and Eli pulled away. Murmuring rose, words indecipherable; had they been clearer, he still wouldn't have been able to understand them. He felt rooted to the spot, frozen, numb mind trying to comprehend the impossible. Rush? His gut tightened. How was that even possible? He could feel the weight of many eyes settle upon him, confused, stunned, accusatory; didn't need to look at Wray to know what she was thinking. A word broke through.

"TJ," the young mans' voice cracked, and, compounded with the look he threw her, Everett knew it wasn't good. Both were moving quickly toward the Gate without a word. Galvanised into action, he knew better than to attempt to countermand them, choosing to mimic their actions instead. He quickly took charge, barking orders, ignoring the panic that clawed at him, and wondering at the tiny, distant voice that whispered its relief.

"Scott, stay here. Brody, Greer, Dunning, with me."

He moved forwards, knowing they would follow. His mind was racing too fast to think as he passed through the Stargate, and he stamped down firmly on the nervousness fluttering in his belly. No way was he showing weakness in front of that man. Unwarranted anger began to bubble inside as they crossed the glade, and he fought it down; he could hardly blame the man for surviving, an amazing achievement given the odds. Still, it was there, turning over in his mind. Damn it. His being back now could destroy everything. Just one word and the fragile calm that had settled would explode. There was no telling what Rush would do, what he would say. Even if he weren't being selfish, which he privately admitted he was, people were just getting used to his absence, just getting over another loss. Perhaps it would raise morale. Maybe. Even so…he would be forced to face himself, view in person the bitter consequences of his own actions.

Leaving him was perhaps the hardest thing I've ever done. And the most shameful.

Not at the time, certainly. There had only been rage, a primal creature goaded into existence by a man he then left to die. But after, in the quiet dark when he'd calmed and had time to reflect…he'd never before been driven to such conduct, nor anything remotely similar. He didn't know how Rush did it- the man sent him repeatedly to and then finally over an edge he'd never even realised was crossable. He would have gone to his grave, once, never believing himself capable of such an act. Maybe that was it; Rush was a warped mirror, he showed him the worst parts of himself, dug them up and laid them out where he couldn't ignore them, clear for him to see. The scientist had a knack, a gift, for knowing where the knife would cut deepest, and used it to full effect. And then, that final act Young had been driven to upon that planet had damaged a part of himself, perhaps irreparably. An unintended bonus, Rush. He'd abandoned honour, dignity, pride, all in one terrible, unintentional blow- Everett had been shown he wasn't the man he believed himself to be, and he could no longer convince himself otherwise. He brings out the worst in me. And he knows it.

He wondered if he'd ever forgive himself. He doubted he'd ever forgive Nicholas Rush.

Why not? He only showed you who you really are, after all…

Things had to change. They would change, if he had to beat it into that man personally. He doubted this little sojourn was enough to teach Rush any humility, but maybe, just maybe he'd be shaken enough to behave. For a while at least. That wasn't too much to hope for, surely? I guess that depends on whether he wants payback.

He watched as TJ fell to her knees, her figure obscuring that of the Doctors', rooting through her medical kit even before she'd settled. She was reaching over the recumbent figure when Eli caught up scant seconds later, practically dancing at her side. The Colonel recognised hyperactivity when he saw it, born of a combination of excitement and nerves, and he fidgeted incessantly; a small smile quirked his lips as his spirits lifted, however briefly.

"Took ye long enough. What did ye do? Sightsee along the way?"

Yep, that was Rush alright. I guess he hasn't learnt anything. A shame. He wasn't looking forward to putting him in his place. Or trying to, anyway. It wasn't like he'd succeeded so far. A voice drew him back as they approached.

"Well I'll be damned," Greer drawled, quietly.

I think I already am.

Conversation floated past him, but he ignored it- Rush bitching was nothing new. Eli finally broke in, asking the burning question as they drew up to the pair, and his words instantly held Young's attention.

"You're alive! How'd you survive it? Talk about lucky!" Panic rose, and he found he was holding his breath. No immediate answer was forthcoming, though, and Eli, unable to stay silent long enough, continued:

"The landslide! We all thought you were dead!"

There. It was out. Moving so he could see Rush over TJ's shoulder, his breath caught for a second time, though for completely different reasons. His movement had attracted the Doctor's attention; half-dead eyes shifted to his and for a long moment they simply stared at one another. He couldn't read that expression, had never seen it before in anyone, and it wasn't anger that stirred within him now - that swiftly died - but something else, something he couldn't identify. Something he would never of associated with Rush.

"'Oh. Luck, as you say."

Luck. A single word, and he was exonerated. For the time being, at least. They continued to stare as TJ worked. Brody hesitantly made his was over before kneeling, clearly uncertain, and jumped when Rush raised his left hand, passing him something. His right never shifted, curved as it was over a peculiar metal sphere. Greer and Dunning split out to secure the area, though if Rush had indeed been here for the better part of a week as he claimed, unmolested, it was doubtful there was anything dangerous in the area. He was, after all, in absolutely no state to defend himself. Everett remained where he was, gaze never drifting from the brown one he was locked with. Not able to.

If you're lucky, he may die anyway…

There was no denying it, even as horror coursed through him at such a thought. The man was a mess, and he repeatedly heard TJ hiss and murmur soft apologies as she picked her way through the ruin. Where did one start? The bruises looked worse than they were- he knew from experience that when they began healing they would turn into a truly impressive rainbow of colours. His face was laid open, though, exposing puffy, inflamed flesh, along the jaw, visible beneath the beard, and across his right eye which was swollen and discoloured. The hair was matted back, and dried blood crusted the hairline, though he'd evidently made some attempt to tidy himself up - his skin was relatively clean. In comparison, his clothing was tattered and filthy, but Young had the distinct impression the man wouldn't have been able to strip in order to clean his clothes, and washing them while wearing them was to invite pneumonia into a body completely unable to fight it.

"There's plenty o' food here."

He jerked slightly, startled by the softly spoken and unexpected intrusion, loud in the silence, and he was forced to re-focus on the other mans' face. Rush's expression didn't change; if he took some pleasure in startling the other man, it didn't show. Maybe he has learnt something after all.

Raising the radio, he called for Lieutenant James to organise a Gathering and bring them through. As he watched the dark eyes closed, and Rush leant his head back against the tree propping him up. He allowed his gaze to travel, then, trying to take in the rest with a mind unable to comprehend anything to do with this man right then. He saw TJ carefully peel at the combat pants of his left calf –bare feet? – which were burnt and blackened with blood. She gave up; it would have to be soaked off, as would a lot of the material, he expected. Gouges –claw marks? Good grief-long and deep and infected, disappeared up into the ragged remains of his right sleeve. Fingers were obviously broken; even more obviously, they would need resetting. He didn't envy TJ that. I'll do it. He blinked.

Metal at each wrist caught his eye and he couldn't stop staring.

"They came back."

They. The owners of the shuttle- there was no other explanation. Raising his head, he found Rush looking at him, head still back and eyes half closed.

"I can't treat him here. We need to get him back to the infirmary."

Grateful for the distraction he turned to the medic, concentrating on her. He nodded, though she didn't see; already she was re-packing the bag, all brisk and efficient, hiding her pain in action. He wondered briefly if there was anything she could do. He felt gooseflesh rise on his arms; his scalp prickled. Rush dying a second time could prove devastating to the crew. The man may not be popular -at all- but they'd come to realise how necessary he was, and if he passed away now, so soon after being found…

"Eli."

As Rush spoke the name, Young realised the young man had fallen silent, maybe some time ago. He hadn't noticed. The Math-Boy instantly shuffled close to the other mans' side, eager to help yet fearful in equal measure. With considerable effort, Rush heaved the sphere up and onto his lap, completely oblivious to the fact that it should have been impossible to use that hand, and rolled it across to his protégée.

"It's damaged. Plasma burst. Dunna know how bad."

That was it. Even as Eli began to ramble excitedly –he caught the words 'Ancient technology' and 'interface'- it was evident that Rush was beginning to flag. The accent had grown thicker, a sure indication that he was tired, and he was mumbling; never a good sign. Hearing TJ's soft voice asking him to help her, he moved forward; with Brody's aid they carefully manoeuvred him to his feet where he swayed for one heart stopping moment, sagging, before gathering himself and moving off, as though prepared to leave them behind. He probably would, too. Somehow, it wouldn't surprise him; when Rush committed to a choice he followed it to the end, stubborn, belligerent, arrogant man that he was.

What's the bet that's the reason he's still alive, though?

He didn't wait for their support as they began walking; certainly, he didn't seem to expect it. It was with an irritated huff that TJ fell in beside him, catching his arm gently to steady him, and the Doctor looked to her in surprise, though he accepted her touch willingly. Another bad sign.

"Oh!"

He spun quickly, alert, in time to see Eli straighten, a hefty firearm in his free hand. Approaching quickly, he reached out for it, relieved when the young man didn't question handing it over. It was unexpectedly heavy, and clearly not Ancient. The grip was designed for a hand larger and broader than his own, and the moulding indicated three fingers. He scratched his thumbnail against what appeared to be peeling paint, winced when he recognised it was actually dried blood. Glancing at Eli, he realised he knew it too; he'd gone somewhat green. Young didn't fancy pointing out that the same dark smears marred the sphere the young man carried…

Young sighed silently, tucked the weapon under his arm. "Come on, kid."

Moving out after the trio, it took less than half a minute to reach them; it was evident that even an assisted slow pace was proving difficult. He saw with a start a second, identical sidearm hooked through the scientists' belt, a knife beside it; a moment of deliberation, and he decided to leave alone. Shaking his head at Eli, who had also noticed, was enough for the youth to fall silent, though he was frowning.

"Sweet."

The voice behind them caught him by surprise, and he twitched a smile; often it was the little things in life that were unexpectedly amusing, and Greer's obvious admiration of the weapon struck him as particularly humorous. He knew the other man to be, whilst a very good soldier, somewhat trigger happy, and he had a fine appreciation of weapons of all sorts, particularly projectile based ones. In truth, he knew Greer believed the bigger the better, though Young had once felt compelled to point out that the old Browning Hi-Power, despite its' flaws, was a much better sidearm than a Colt 1911 as far as he was concerned. Now, the Sig Sauer, on the other hand…

That had been a pleasant afternoon, he reflected. If felt like a lifetime ago.

He smiled again.

"I might let you play with it later. Stay, both of you," he told the Sergeant, tilting his head at Dunning. "I'll have Scott bring through a couple of teams. We might as well make the most of it."

The other man nodded, hesitated, then snapped to attention before turning and jogging off.

The others weren't far from the gate. Scowling, he realised Rush was leaning on TJ, and hurried to catch up. A hand on Brody's shoulder, and he gently guided the other man out the way, passing him the alien sidearm he carried, and taking his place at the Doctor's side. Pulling one arm over his own shoulders he gripped the forearm tightly- he slipped his free hand around a too thin waist, got a good grip on the belt and lifted, taking as much weight onto himself as possible. It wasn't hard, the man didn't weigh a lot, and if Rush noticed he gave no indication; indeed, his eyes were tightly shut, and it seemed a monumental effort just to put one foot in front of the other.

"Eli-"

"On it." He was already dialling.

He ignored the interruption, approving of the fact Eli had pre-empted him, rather than being irritated at being cut off. Train your people well, and let them do their job.Sage advice, given by his Commanding Officer when he had been a Lieutenant himself, and it had served him well all these years. It had been so very hard at first, letting go, letting his people 'fly the nest' despite knowing how well they could do their job, but he had gotten better at it over time. That pang of worry was still there, though, all these years later, for those who had served with him for whatever length of time, and particularly for any new members of his command who was just beginning, branching out on their own for the first time, flourishing. There was always that fear- had he trained them well enough? Taught them everything he could? Given them a good enough grounding to survive the dangerous life of a soldier? It was to his credit that he had lost so few over the years, but in truth he remembered those who'd fallen even more fiercely than those who'd simply moved on, and he made sure that every loss was learned from, to better prepare those who came after. He'd be damned if the same mistake was made twice. Eli may not be one of his, but screw it all if he wouldn't do everything in his power to give the likeable young man the best chance he could. He'd give him his feet, as he'd done for so many over the years, and watch him soar. He'd worry, of course, but he'd be proud too. So what if Eli didn't want his help. He was getting it anyway.

"Good job."

The wormhole engaged. He caught the smile of pride on the younger mans' face before it was quickly banished and they were moving forward. Maybe there is hope. He shifted his grip to pull Rush up again. It was certainly perverse, but having chosen to help there was no way in hell he'd let him fall down. Passing from the warm brightness of the planet to the cooler darkness of the Gate-room made the Doctor shiver, and Young tightened his grip just as he seemed to come alive again, straightening enough to take some of his own weight. Blinking in the half-light, he muttered a soft 'huh' before TJ was directing them towards the infirmary. People clustered round, and he grit his teeth, refusing to snap at these people who were justifiably curious. He felt Rush shy away, move back against him as they pressed closer, murmuring, reaching out; heard his breathing catch and realised the scientist wasn't far from panic.

Immediately he opened his mouth, but Scott's voice cut threw the whispering, brooking no argument.

"Come on people, move. Now! Clear a path, let them through."

Uniforms appeared, funnelling the others away; suddenly Brody and Eli were in front, TJ to their right, giving them room to breathe. The air was heavy with emotion as she promised to let them know how he was, and they didn't stop moving again until they reached the relative safety of the infirmary.

Rush was gasping, shaking, but fighting desperately to stay on his own feet as he was guided towards a bed; with care they helped lift him onto it, leaning him against the raised back. Eyes closed instantly, and he slumped, done in but still conscious, refusing to let go. TJ carefully loosened the belt and slid the sidearm and knife free- no reaction. She turned to them, passing the weapons to the Colonel.

"Thank you. I'll keep you informed." She waited. When they didn't seem to get it, she prodded gently.

"Go, please. He won't want anyone here, and I'm sure you all have better things to do than wait and worry."

They stirred, mumbling half words and soft apologies, before slowly leaving. She turned to Young.

"You too, Sir." He sighed. "No, you have to go, too."

"His fingers…" he remembered.

"I'll manage. Please."

Studying her, he acknowledged her complete sincerity with a nod, before moving to leave.

"Let me know…"

"I will."

Pausing at the doorway, he glanced back at her, hand hovering over the panel. She raised her chin, outwardly confident, and he pressed the mechanism causing the door to heave shut, sealing the pair off from the outside world. She wouldn't allow anyone in until she was good and ready, he knew. Feeling suddenly useless, he hesitated. He didn't want to go back to the Gate-room; he had no information to give and everyone there would be expecting at least something. He couldn't face them with a meaningless shrug. He couldn't return to the planet without passing through the masses, and yet he didn't want to be completely alone. He had no idea where this sudden, irritating wave of self-pity had come from, but he knew the solution was action, and so he chose instead to head for somewhere he knew would be relatively quiet, undisturbed except by those who worked there. The Control Room. Maybe Eli could tell him something.