A/N: This is my entry for Secret Santa 08 over at Sheppard H/C on LJ, for Obsessed1o1. Enjoy!

Heart of Fire, Heart of Gold

Part 1

"Are you alright, John?" Teyla asked. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the empty hallway in front of her, but she couldn't help the quick glance over at her team leader. For anyone who didn't know him, John Sheppard looked healthy enough, but Teyla knew better. She had known him too long to not notice that his movements seemed a little too stiff and a little too measured. He was walking at a normal pace, but he looked like he was slightly hunched over.

"I'm fine."

"So why do I need to come again?" Rodney McKay interrupted, grumbling again for the third time in five minutes before Teyla could say anything more to John.

She heard her team leader sigh before answering, but he sounded exhausted more than irritated. "I'm not explaining this to you again, Rodney," he finally said.

They kept walking, their steps echoing down the empty hallway. Teyla glanced around, not sure what she was looking for. It looked like every other empty hallway in Atlantis. They weren't even that far from the inhabited parts of the city.

"Oh, right. Some kid wandered off and is now lost—I get that. What I don't understand is why I have to help."

"Rodney," Teyla said, shocked at the seeming callousness of his words. She shot a glance at the five villagers following them and wondered what they must think of the physicist.

"I didn't mean it like that," Rodney quickly amended, then glared at Ronon when the man grunted. "I'm just saying that my specific talents might be put to better use say in the control tower, working with the scanners to search the city."

"You're on my team, McKay, and I need you here. Try to sound a little more sympathetic, will you?" John answered.

Rodney muttered in response, and Teyla resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead she glanced back at the five villagers again. Teyla didn't recognize any of them, but Atlantis had been overrun in the last three days with the large group of refugees from Hajo. It had been hectic as they'd rushed to clean out one of the uninhabited wings and make it livable for the most recent Wraith victims.

John stumbled but quickly regained his footsteps. His hand immediately moved to his chest, where it seemed to hover uncertainly before moving back to his side. He caught Teyla's eye and shook his head, and Teyla bit her lip to stop from asking if he was alright again. He looked a little pale, but it could be the low lighting in this part of Atlantis.

They'd all been running like crazy, trying to get the refugees settled in and fed. Keller had been overrun in the infirmary with a mass of people traumatized by the culling that had sent them running to Atlantis for help. Teyla had devoted her time to helping the infirmary staff. The number of actual injuries was minimal, and she'd recognized that most of the villagers just needed someone to assure them that they were safe from the Wraith for the moment.

She'd seen John running around Atlantis throughout the three days, making sure everything and everyone was taken care of. He'd looked tired and stressed after the first day, exhausted after the second. She'd made sure he'd got some sleep last night, but she was positive he was still tired and still worrying about the new group of people suddenly under his care.

Teyla heard Rodney sigh again loud enough to ensure that everyone heard him. John had called them to the Hajos' residence wing about twenty minutes earlier. Ronon had arrived a few minutes before Teyla, and they'd waited with varying degrees of patience for Rodney to finally show up. John had explained that one of the ruling council's children had gotten upset and run away, and Teyla had accepted the explanation that they needed to help look for him without hesitation, but now that she thought about it, Rodney had a point, too. With all the technology on Atlantis, it seemed like the scientist would be more productive searching the city from a computer console.

The team and the five village men stopped in front of a transporter. Teyla caught John's glance at one of the villagers, a large scruffy man with dark eyes and a wide jaw. The man frowned, shifting back and forth on his feet. He didn't seem overly concerned about the missing child, so Teyla surmised it wasn't his child who had run off.

Impatient? Tired? Frustrated at being roped into the search like Rodney? Teyla couldn't quite place the man's expression. John hadn't bothered to introduce any of the villagers, just waved his hand at them and said they'd be helping.

Teyla watched her team leader move toward the transporter and study the map a minute before turning to the rest of them. His face still looked pale, and dark circles ringed his eyes. He pointed to a spot on the far edge of the city.

"Let's start our search here."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

John stared at the map outside of the transporter, feeling everyone's eyes on his back. Teyla kept moving closer to him, studying him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fool her for long.

Please don't ask if I'm alright, he begged her silently. His chest and stomach were raw with pain as he reached up toward the map.

"Let's start our search here," he said.

"How do you know the kid got in a transporter?" McKay asked, too logical for everyone's good. John cringed. The runaway kid story had been the first thing to pop into his head when he'd called his team down to the lead councilor's quarters. It really wasn't going to last much longer.

He felt a sudden surge of anger—mostly at himself. He'd let his guard down, and now he was paying for it. Before the day was out, his whole team might pay for his mistake. Pain lanced through his chest again and he bit his lip to keep from moaning or crying out. As he stood there, his mind flashed back to earlier that day.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

John Sheppard weaved his way down one of the newly opened residence halls of Atlantis, stepping over and around running children, groups of gossiping adults, and the occasional small herd animal. He shook his head in shock at how quickly circumstances on Atlantis could change. He'd spent the first day of the Hajos' arrival frantically cleaning out of one of the empty residence wings. Most of that night had then been spent overseeing room assignments and making sure everyone was settled, that those who needed medical help were taken care of, and that they had enough food stores to cover everyone's need. This is not happening. Not here, not on Atlantis. Hands ripped his handgun and knife from his belt and his radio from his ear. A few moments later, he felt his muscles beginning to relax and he let his forehead fall to the floor. He'd been tired enough to begin with…

Less than four hours of sleep later, John was back and dealing with an onslaught of questions and complaints from people overwhelmingly traumatized by the Wraith attack, which sounded like it had been way more brutal than was normal—even for the Wraith.. He'd stopped in to check on Keller at one point, and sympathized with the run on the infirmary of sick, injured, and terrified patients. John had managed a little more sleep the night before—thanks mostly to Teyla's prodding to get some rest—but only three cups of coffee had managed to keep him awake during Woolsey's early morning briefing to go over possible relocation sites.

John turned down a side hallway off the main wing to where the refugee ruling council had taken up residence. He slapped the folder holding one-page descriptions of the refugees' options for a new planet lightly against his leg. All this information could have easily been put on a thumb drive, as McKay had pointed out, but Woolsey liked his paper.

He reached the farthest door—Lead Councilor Tebel's, the head of the Hajo ruling council. John had only talked to the man a few times. He'd seemed almost overwhelmed at the responsibility placed on his shoulders, and John could certainly relate to that.

"Colonel, hello. Please, come in," the man said as he opened the door. He looked even more tired and stressed out than John remembered.

The colonel smiled, stepping into the room. It was unexpectedly crowded, and he greeted the rest of the council, who had jumped to their feet at John's entrance.

"I apologize, Colonel Sheppard. We were holding an impromptu meeting."

"Oh, that's alright. I'm glad you're all here," he said, glancing around. Most of the council was sitting in the small room, as well as a few faces he didn't recognize. He waved the folder in his hand. "We've found some planets for you to review, that would be suitable for relocation."

The head councilor nodded absently, signaling John forward. He took the folder and sat down at the desk that had been dragged into the center of the room as a makeshift conference table and sighed heavily as he opened it up and began flipping through the pages.

"Is everything alright?" John asked.

"Yes, fine," Tebel answered without looking up.

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw someone moving behind him, closing the door and blocking his only exit. Alarm bells instantly went off in his head, and he reached for his sidearm and radio.

He had just reached a finger up to tap his radio earpiece when his hand was jerked backward. His arms were wrestled behind him as he was forced to the floor, and a couple of quick kidney punches had him subdued before he realized what was happening.

"What the hell?" he yelled, and then a knee pressed into his back, pressing his chest into the floor and forcing the air out of his lungs. He gasped as he struggled against them, but there were too many holding him down.

"Watch his face! Don't bruise his face," someone growled above him.

John felt a sharp prick on his shoulder, and he groaned.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Sheppard?" Ronon's voice broke through John's thoughts, and John jerked his head around. He winced as raw nerves pulled in his chest and stomach, but he managed to cover it up as he turned back toward the transporter. He hoped so anyway.

"We'll have to split up. We can't all fit into the transporter," he said, stepping into the small space. If he could just get those five villagers far enough away, maybe he could salvage this situation. Or at least minimize the damage.

"How do you know which way to go?" Rodney asked, folding his arms.

Stop thinking, McKay. Stop asking so many damn questions, John pleaded in his mind, but he forced a scowl into his expression and glared at the scientist.

"We aren't the only people searching for this kid. Our job is to search this section," he snapped, waving his hand over the farthest edge of the city. "If you question me one more time about this, I will have Ronon shoot you."

McKay glared back at him, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. John would get an earful later, he was sure, but for now he'd managed to silence the scientist.

His team stepped forward, planning to join him in the transporter. One of the villagers cleared his throat, and John looked up to see all five of them staring intently back, their faces hard. The man in the center casually stuck his hand in his pocket and John swallowed in trepidation, waiting for the flood of pain to his midsection. He could see the man's teeth clenching behind his large, unshaved jaws.

"Uh…Ronon and McKay, why don't you two bring the second group? Teyla and I will go first."

Ronon stepped back, pulling the scientist with him but pinning John with a strange look. John knew the man was getting suspicious, but he couldn't risk doing anything. Not yet. He carefully avoided the runner's gaze and turned to the villagers. The large man stepped forward, taking his hand out of his pocket, and John sighed in relief when his body wasn't wracked with agony. The largest villager was followed by two of the others. They crammed into the transporter and John tapped the farthest corner of the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

John lay face down on the floor, breathing heavily and feeling like he'd just run a marathon. The hands holding him down shifted suddenly and he felt himself being lifted up. John stared at the dozen feet standing on either side of him as they moved him from the floor to the bed, stripping him of his vest and t-shirt. His arms flopped uncontrollably as the muscle relaxant took effect, and then he was lying face up on the bed and staring at the ceiling.Gjon, that was the guy's name. Like my name but with a 'guh' at the beginning. Guh. Guh-jon…That voice was not Guh-jon's. That was the man with the jaw…Jaw Man… Jowels…Jaws…Where have I seen him before? John tried to turn his head, but his neck muscles refused to move, and he lay limply on the bed.Jaws, John silently dubbed him—appeared again in front of John, kneeling down next to the bed. He held a small, silver disk in his fingers about three inches in diameter and a half an inch thick, and John stared at it, mesmerized, as the man flipped it around in his hand. The soft light in the room kept catching the shiny edge of the disk with a bright flash.

A man appeared overhead, his face unshaven. He had a large jaw and small, dark eyes, and he glared at John. John blinked back at him, a small part of him screaming at himself to do something, to raise the alarm, to defend himself. The urge to go to sleep was overwhelming, though, and he let his eyes drift closed.

"Hey, hey," someone said, thumping their knuckles against his chest. John groaned, forcing his eyes open. A different face was looking down at him, this one thin with bushy eyebrows that moved up and down when he spoke. John knew this man—recognized him as one of the councilors under Tebel.

"Gejj…Gezz..ahn…" John muttered, trying to say the man's name. His mouth felt weird and he couldn't quite form the word around half-numb lips.

"He is awake," the eyebrow man said.

"How much did you give him? We need him awake and coherent."

"We have a bottle of Tikkar. That will awaken him with speed."

"No, not yet. It is probably better to do this while he is still uncoordinated."

The man with the large jaw—

"Do you know what this is?" Jaws asked, and John forced his eyes to move so he could look at the man who was obviously in charge. He had no idea what the disk was, not that he could have expressed that at this point.

"I need your help, Colonel Sheppard, and this will insure that I get it."

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Teyla squeezed into the corner of the transporter. They could hold four—maybe five—people but not comfortably. One of the villagers pressed in next to her as the doors slid shut, and she stepped away from him as much as she could, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. She could understand searching for a missing child, but she hadn't heard anything about anyone else searching, and John's whole approach seemed a little too haphazard.

Ronon had noticed it too. She'd seen it in the look he gave them as the transporter doors slid shut. Something was wrong—with John or with the villagers, or something else entirely. She couldn't pinpoint it. She felt a niggling of unease curl and twist in the pit of her stomach.

The transporter flashed and the doors slid open. The villagers stood frozen for a second, obviously having no idea what to expect. She jumped through the doors at the same time as John and grabbed his arm as he stumbled forward.

"John?"

He didn't answer, just swayed for a minute, his hand once again hovering over but not touching his midsection.

"John, what's wrong?"

The three villagers had finally stepped out of the transporter as well and were now gathering around them. John seemed to realize how closely everyone was looking at him, and he shook off Teyla's grip.

"I'm fine, Teyla. Sorry."

There was another flash behind them, and then Ronon, McKay and the other two villagers stepped out. Teyla kept her focus on John. His face was definitely pale, and his forehead had broken out into beads of sweat.

"John—" she started but before she could finish, he interrupted.

"I didn't eat much for dinner last night, and I missed breakfast this morning. I think I'm just hungry," he said quickly. He wiped a shaky hand across his forehead.

"Well, why didn't you say something?" Rodney asked, immediately digging into his vest pockets and producing a powerbar. "You know I always have food on me."

"Yeah, right, thanks," John mumbled. He took the powerbar with a grimace and began fumbling with the wrapper. "Come on. We've got to keep moving."

John headed off down the hall without a glance, and again Teyla wondered how he could be so sure they were heading in the right direction. The others followed, and Teyla hurried to catch up to John. He still had the powerbar in his hand, but he didn't seem to be eating it—not the way she'd expect a man dizzy from hunger to be eating, at any rate.

She wanted to ask him if he was alright, if he knew where they were going, if there was something else going on, but she bit her lip, holding back the flood of words. The villagers followed silently, appearing almost excited, and again Teyla swallowed back that sense of unease and discomfort. Her instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong, but John plunged forward down the hall with reckless abandon.

ooooooooooooooooooooo