Chapter 4

He still couldn't figure out what the device was. What was wrong with him?

Rodney let his head fall back with a sigh. He knew exactly what was wrong with him. His friend was dead. And for possibly the first time in his life he couldn't do anything to bring him back. They'd had near misses, and Sheppard had cheated death so many times it had seemed he was genetically crossed with a cat. But Rodney had seen the evidence with his own eyes – something he dearly wished he could un-see – and now it was indelibly burned into his memory, destined to haunt his dreams for years to come.

Sheppard was gone. And he'd gone in a manner so horrific Rodney had thrown up his breakfast and not even been able to think of eating since. He couldn't imagine ever facing food again.

Stop it!

He forced himself to look back at the data readings again and try to make sense of them. Perhaps he should call on Hermiod...no...he wasn't ready to admit the little guy was smarter than him just yet...even if he did sometimes get the sneaking suspicion that he might be...

'Rodney...you know, I could probably do this without you,' Zelenka said, speaking up and interrupting his thoughts.

Rodney lifted his eyes from his tablet screen and blinked back at him a few times. He knew a comment like that would usually rip a lightning-fast put-down from him, but he just didn't have the energy or the will to formulate a sentence, let alone a witty come-back. 'Huh?'

'You've had a terrible shock...perhaps you should be resting.'

The sympathy on Zelenka's face almost reduced him to tears right there and then, but Rodney fought it back and set his jaw. 'No...I can do this. I just need to run a few more tests, gather a little more data. I almost have it cracked.'

'All of which I can do,' Zelenka pointed out, taking hold of Rodney's tablet and trying to ease it from his grip.

McKay just tightened his grip. 'I said I can do this,' he insisted, his knuckles white with determination to hold on to the device.

Zelenka let go with a sigh. 'I'll take a look at the device itself...see if I can figure a way to activate it.'

'Nononono!' Rodney gasped, grabbing the back of his shirt with his free hand while still hanging on to his tablet. 'Don't activate anything!'

Again, the sympathy in Zelenka's expression was crippling. Rodney felt his heart crack. But he wouldn't let the feelings out, terrified if he started to mourn the flood of emotions would be too much to bear.

'I doubt we will find anything worse than has already been discovered,' the Czech said softly, hands clasped in front of him as if that was the only way he could resist touching the Vanir device.

'Well, maybe not,' Rodney croaked, stopping to swallow away the lump rising in his craw. 'But I don't want to find out this machine is what caused...' He couldn't even finish his sentence, the memory of Sheppard's body making his dry heave and cutting him off. He took a deep breath and composed himself. 'We just need to figure out what this device does and if it's safe...let's try not to add to the body count.'

After they'd discovered Sheppard's body, Woolsey had made it their priority to examine the Vanir device before the search of the ship continued. He wanted to be sure it wasn't going to do something catastrophic before he allowed more people aboard to assist in the potentially mammoth task of checking every pod and cataloguing and collecting what lay within them. The section was now being guarded by Lorne and his team while they ascertained the functionality of the alien device. It didn't seem to be weaponised, which was an immense relief since Rodney really didn't feel like being ripped to shreds in an explosion...he cursed himself again for thinking that thought and the images that returned along with it. What had they used on Sheppard? A chainsaw? Did they even have those out here in Pegasus?

Stop it!

With another deep breath he forced that to the back of his mind again and scrolled through the data. It didn't make sense. All he could glean from it was that it was some kind of databank of genomes, but it looked far too complex a device to simply be some type of information store. There had to be more to it than that. And if he wasn't mistaken, some of the readings he'd taken suggested the machine contained biological materials, too. And that was what had him worried. It might be nothing more than a glorified casket for another of the faction's victims...or even the cause of Sheppard's traumatic death. He really didn't want to find out who else they had taken apart on this ship. He glanced up at the dozens of pods surrounding him and shuddered. This place might be a futuristic cemetery for anyone who'd got in the faction's bad books. How many more victims lay yet undiscovered?

The mere thought of what might lie within the machine's confines made him retch involuntarily again. Nope, he was definitely never going to be able to eat again.

'You got anything yet, Docs?' Lorne asked, his face grave as he approached them. He looked odd without the glint in his eye Rodney was so accustomed to seeing, but he supposed even the major had to have been affected by the remains they'd found. Hardened war veteran or no, it could never be easy to see a friend and colleague treated that way. 'Err, well, I can tell you what it isn't...' he offered.

'That's a start,' the major urged, fixing him with an expectant stare.

'It's not a weapon,' Rodney told him, seeing an instant release in the tension grasping Lorne's body.

'That's good news,' the major said, his voice flat and without even a hint of the relief he clearly felt. Briefly Rodney wondered how long it would take for them all to feel normal again because a humourless Lorne was just too weird to contemplate.

'I believe if we activate it, that would help us to understand it better,' Zelenka piped up now, and Rodney threw him a scowl that belied the fear the idea awoke inside him.

'So, do it,' the major told him, looking between the two of them as if puzzled as to why they hadn't done it already.

'Dr McKay does not wish to do it.'

Okay, so now Rodney understood what Zelenka was doing. He couldn't act without Rodney's permission because he was Chief Science Officer. He wanted Lorne to overrule and give him permission to do the work Rodney wouldn't let him carry out.

'McKay?'

It wasn't exactly a question, but Rodney knew Lorne was looking for an explanation. 'We don't know what we might find in there.'

'But you already said it isn't dangerous,' the major pointed out.

'No but –'

Lorne grabbed his sleeve and pulled him aside. 'Look, McKay. I understand where this is coming from, I really do, but we have to clear this ship so it can be fully examined and we can't do that until we work out what this machine is all about. If activating it can tell us that, we have to do it.'

McKay swallowed hard and gave a feeble nod.

'You don't have to be here,' Lorne added, his voice lower now. 'Don't you have to go check something out some other place?'

'Er...yes...yes...I need to head up to the bridge to collect a log of recent destinations,' Rodney agreed loud enough for the others to hear, grateful for the chance to save face Lorne had presented him with.

He tapped at his tablet as he left the room as if carrying out some vital work as he moved. One of Lorne's team instantly tucked in behind him, there to protect him from any hidden and yet undiscovered bad guys. The creepy sensation he'd been labouring under lifted the moment he left the stasis chambers behind him, but sorrow quickly seeped in to fill the gap that sensation had left behind. After carrying out a few cursory checks, he slumped into the command chair and dropped his head into his hands, no longer interested in concealing his grief. He didn't care who saw his pain. He just could not keep it in anymore.

He heard the marine move away to the door, hanging back, giving him the space he needed to get his thoughts into some sort of order. It was still hard to believe Sheppard was gone. He hadn't allowed himself to absorb it...didn't even know if he could. How had things gone south so quickly on that fateful mission? The truth was, he had a nagging feeling he was to blame for the fact Sheppard hadn't made it through the gate with the rest of them.

The day of the ambush had been one like many others. A peaceful trip to a village they had helped to rebuild after a Wraith culling almost a year ago. They'd done the same thing dozens of times before, mostly without mishap or drama, even though they always knew they could never take any trip for granted. Sheppard had been in good spirits, playing baseball with the local kids, a game he'd taught them on a previous visit, and, of course, he'd flirted with a particularly pretty girl who'd brought them all refreshments after their exertions. And later on they'd all enjoyed an impressive meal by Pegasus standards. As follow-up missions went, it had been an enjoyable one, if a little low-tech for his tastes.

And then, on the way back to the 'gate, the firing had started.

Great pulses of energy just like Ronon's gun had thumped through the air, shaking his body and leaving his eardrums reverberating so painfully he'd been forced to squat and cover his ears, dropping his gun in the process.

Sheppard had been out in front, but had obviously seen him stop so returned for him, dragging him up and hauling his sorry ass toward the Stargate. He'd shoved Rodney in the direction of the DHD while he, Teyla and Ronon had laid down cover fire. So he'd dialled the address and they'd all made a run for the 'gate...but Sheppard hadn't made it through. First he'd been shot, straight through his right hand. That had forced him to release his P-90 and go for his side arm, not easy when reaching with his left. But he'd managed it and was still a way better shot than Rodney despite the fact it wasn't his dominant hand. The ambush had been launched with the colonel only meters from the 'gate and, with the rest of them under heavy fire, and no way had those guns been set on stun, they'd been forced to throw themselves through the Stargate's gaping maw just to survive.

'McKay, we opened up the device...I think you're gonna want to see this.'

Lorne's voice broke off his sobs instantly. Whatever was inside couldn't be too bad if Lorne was calling him back. He'd been panicking over nothing.

'I'll be right there,' he barked back, bouncing up from the chair and sniffing back tears as if they'd never happened.

As he passed the marine on guard duty he snapped his fingers and ordered, 'With me,' to which the man said nothing but automatically fell in step behind him as he had done on the journey down there. Rodney told himself it was out of respect for him, not because his orders were to watch the helpless scientist.

Back in the oppressive atmosphere of the stasis room, Rodney clambered his way up to the hidden level, cautiously poking his head in to judge whether to go any further. 'What did you find?' he asked from the safety of his quick exit route.

Zelenka looked pale and disbelieving, never a good sign, and Lorne...Lorne looked dazed, as if someone had just punched him in the face. The man ran a hand back through his hair, then swiped it down his face, shaking his head. 'I dunno, Doc. You tell me.'

He pointed to the device, an invitation for Rodney to examine its contents. Warily, McKay rose the rest of the way into the chamber and edged over to the open device, peering inside with trepidation and a slight queasy feeling as if he was about to see the device's exposed intestines.

He gasped.

He blinked a few times.

He stepped back and almost fell, through the opening he'd just entered by, but Lorne was there to stop him.

Inside the device was John Sheppard, totally at peace and as naked as the day he was born. He looked as if he had just fallen asleep there.

'Is he...is he...' Rodney's mouth and his brain had somehow slipped out of sync. He couldn't form the question.

'He doesn't have any brain activity,' Zelenka told him softly, resting a hand on his shoulder as Rodney moved forward to take a better look at him.

'But his body is functioning,' Lorne quickly added. 'This machine seems to be doing everything required to keep the body healthy – food, oxygen –'

'Even electrical impulses to stimulate muscle development,' Zelenka picked up again. 'But there is zero brain activity.'

'But...why...' and then Rodney had his Eureka moment. He knew what the device was and he knew what Tareb and his men had done. 'We have to contact Woolsey. We've made a terrible mistake!'

oooOOOooo

There was a look in Ronon's eyes that told Sheppard he was in big trouble and no one was about to intervene. He glanced up at Teyla, saw the cold indifference with which she watched the huge Satedan enter the room with clearly murderous intentions, and knew there was no point in appealing to her. Whatever Ronon did to him would have her blessing. What the hell did they think had happened that they could turn on him this way?

'Ronon...buddy...there's been some kind of a misunderstanding.'

Ronon sneered and began to circle him. They'd done this dance a hundred times in the gym, but never before had Sheppard been in genuine fear for his life. Ronon was a big, mean bastard, but also a fiercely loyal friend who knew when enough was enough when they sparred. He rarely drew blood, and when he did it was more often than not because of a mistake Sheppard made himself.

'There's no misunderstanding,' Ronon growled, pressing in ever closer with each rotation. 'You're not John Sheppard. That's all I need to know.'

Sheppard raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. He had no desire to get into a fight with his friend. For one thing he didn't want to hurt the man, and for another, he knew which of the two of them would come off worse at the end of it. 'I am Sheppard. I swear. Don't you think Keller would have spotted something if I weren't?'

'I dunno...you were pretty convincing. You even had me fooled for a while.'

'I'm not fooling anyone. I am John Sheppard.'

The sudden punch connected hard, snapping his head back and leaving him staggering. For a second he thought he might pass out, but when his butt slammed into the floor it brought him back with a jolt. He sat there, staring up at his friend, blood flowing from his nose, so stunned he couldn't even think about getting back to his feet.

Ronon helped him with that dilemma by hauling him up by his shirt front and slamming him into the bars. His hot breath right in Sheppard's face came in short, angry pants. He was just waiting for an excuse to strike him again. Sheppard clamped his mouth tight shut to prevent himself firing off one of his customary wisecracks. He was in no shape to take Ronon on when he was in full health; in his present state the Satedan would probably snap him like a twig.

'Why did you come here looking like Sheppard? What do you want from us?' Ronon demanded.

Sheppard licked his lips, nerves leaving his mouth dry. He fixed his eyes on Ronon's, seeing the fury burning deep in them. There was nothing he could say that the Satedan wanted to hear. Ronon had already made up his mind that he wasn't John Sheppard. But he was. What could he do to prove that to him?

'I don't know what Tareb told you –'

'He didn't have to tell me anything. I know you're not Sheppard because he's lying in our morgue.'

A sick panic surged in his gut at those words. That was the second time one of his team had claimed to see his dead body...and then he thought about his own body, the new improved one minus all the bumps and scrapes. What if he wasn't John Sheppard after all, because something sure as hell wasn't right here?

'I don't know what's going on, Ronon,' he told him, keeping his eyes locked on his friend's to persuade him of his sincerity. 'And I'm not gonna say you're wrong because clearly you're convinced you're not, but I am John Sheppard. I have all my thoughts, my feelings, my memories—'

Ronon jerked him away from the bars and slammed him against them again, thudding the back of his skull against the solid metal surface. Stars blinked in and out of view for a few seconds as he laboured under the pressure of Ronon's body weight leaning into him. 'Prove it!'

'Prove it?'

Another jerk and his head collided with the bars again. 'I said prove it, not repeat the question.'

Ronon's weight against him was becoming excruciating, cutting off his oxygen and making it hard to concentrate on anything other than catching his breath. Sheppard thought about what he could say that might evidence the fact he was who he said he was, reeling off the first things that popped into his mind. 'Your name is...Ronon Dex. You were...ranked a...specialist in the...Satedan army before...the Wraith culled your planet...and destroyed your home. Now you're one of only –'

'You could have hacked into personnel files for that. Tell me something only Sheppard would know.'

Something only he could know? Dammit, they'd had hundreds of conversations, well, he'd talked and Ronon had offered up the odd word or two, but nothing that was so outstanding he could remember it in detail. There had to be something more memorable. They'd had...moments.

'Time's up,' Ronon hissed, shifting his grip to his throat and squeezing.

And that's when it came to Sheppard, the one moment they shared that had meant so much to the two of them.

'When the Wraith...had you hopped up on enzyme,' he wheezed, hoping Ronon could understand him. 'We brought you...back here and you...you were still addicted. You hated us...wanted us to let you go back to the Wraith...or kill you –' He tugged at Ronon's thick fingers, trying desperately to get a few gasps of air so he could finish his story. 'When you got through it I...I brought...you...your sword...to show I...trusted you.'

The look on Ronon's face changed from fury to confusion in an instant. But he didn't think to let go, and Sheppard was losing consciousness. The last thing he heard was Woolsey ordering Ronon to stop before his mind phased out and he felt what little strength he had left completely abandon him...

oooOOOooo

Waking alone once again in his cell, Sheppard balled himself up tight in a corner and hoped no one came too soon this time. He was hungry and he was thirsty, but that was preferable to the previous several times his captors had visited him. He couldn't give in to their demands...wouldn't give in...and the tortures they'd employed had grown steadily worse and more violent as their patience with him wore ever thinner.

Where was rescue? Why hadn't anyone come for him?

But he knew why. They were a moving target. It was hard to pin them down. The Travellers were adept at staying off the radar to keep themselves safe from the Wraith. These guys had to be just as good if not better. Rescue was going to take time. Probably more time than he had before Tareb and his cronies returned with their demands again.

An involuntary shudder shook through his body and he curled in on himself even tighter, as if making himself small would render him harder to find. He remained there, gently rocking, for an unidentifiable length of time, possibly minutes, possibly even hours, but then the all too familiar sound of approaching footsteps broke the enveloping silence and he knew it was time to put on the front and face his captors down once more.

Tareb led in his two henchmen as he always did. They crowded in at the bars, Tareb wearing the same smug smile he always did now. He knew he was getting to Sheppard no matter how hard he had tried not to show his fear. Sheppard rose unsteadily to his feet. He didn't know what these creeps were doing to him, but every time he thought he was dead for sure they would put him back together and the whole process would begin again, slowly unpicking the strands of his sanity until now he was beginning to doubt the reality of any of this.

Maybe this was just a nightmare. He had already had it pointed out all too painfully by the Sekkari A.I. that he had a habit of torturing himself after all.

'Good to see you awake, Sheppard,' Tareb drawled, those pale eyes drilling into him. Sheppard felt as if they were stripping away his layers of bravado, exposing the shaken soul beneath.

'Wish I could say the same,' he quipped, forcing on his own cocky smile. He had nothing else left in his ammunition. He couldn't talk his way out, fight his way out, or even beg his way out...none of those things would mean a damned thing to Tareb. All he could do was keep refusing to comply and hoping his people found him soon. They had to find him soon...didn't they? It had been weeks now..hadn't it? He couldn't really recall how long it had been, all he knew was he'd spent almost as much time unconscious as he had in agony and wishing he could be unconscious again. But he had to stay strong, even if they beat him mercilessly and woke him up again a hundred times over. He couldn't let even one innocent die because he had broken down. He didn't think his conscience would let him live with that.

'My friends and I were wondering if you were feeling any more inclined to listen to our term?' Tareb asked.

Sheppard raised his chin, watching a momentary flash of disbelief cross the faces of those three men gathered on the other side of his bars. 'Can't say that I am.'

Tareb stared a moment longer, then lowered his head, shaking it as he chuckled into his chest. 'Why do you persist in this stubborn refusal to even hear our request, Colonel Sheppard?'

'The same reason you keep asking me to listen,' he replied somewhat enigmatically. He didn't have a firm reason why if he was honest, only a gut instinct that told him these men were up to no good and nothing they said would be something he wanted to help them with.

Tareb lifted his head, then allowed a smirk to break out. 'That mouth of yours get you into a lot of trouble, does it?'

'Hard as this is to believe, it sometimes gets me out of it...too...' Sheppard stammered to a halt as the man at Tareb's left shoulder pulled something resembling a small chainsaw out from behind his back and gave it a buzz.

Suddenly, words eluded him.

The other heavy now stepped forward and deactivated the cell door, granting the three of them access to their prisoner. Still no words came, but the urge to scream was almost too strong to suppress. They'd done terrible things to him over the past...however long it was...but this...no way...he couldn't do this.

There was a beat of calm, a second of utter silence, and then they pounced. Struggling for all he was worth, Sheppard landed a few good blows before he was pounded into submission. Before he knew it he was pinned, wrists and ankles, clothes torn, face throbbing and his mouth filled with the taint of blood. But still he came up short of begging. He thought about the types of people he had met in the months previous to this...women and children, the elderly, people who were vulnerable and weak who had endured the attacks of this faction and lost loved ones to them. He kept a picture of one pretty little girl he'd met at the forefront of his mind, the one with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen...the one who had lost her mother only two days before. He could do this...he could do this to spare children like her the heartache of growing up without a mom the way she would...the way he had.

Tareb's face appeared upside down above him, grinning fiercely. 'I don't think you're taking this seriously, Colonel Sheppard. You will take us where we want to go, even if it takes several lifetimes to convince you. We can be patient. We've waited six months already to track you down and get you here.'

The heavy with the mini-saw gave it another rev, just for added effect. Not that he needed the seriousness of his current predicament emphasised in any way. He was up that certain creek without a paddle, just as he had been too many times before.

'My people will find me long before you change my mind,' he grunted, teeth gritted as he strained against their grip. But he was going nowhere; they had him beat.

'So you keep saying,' Tareb scoffed. 'The thing is, Sheppard, what you have apparently failed to grasp is that I don't need all of you present to fly this ship. There are parts of you that could be...removed...to help you change that mind of yours a little faster.'

The saw revved again.

Sheppard's throat instantly dried. He seriously doubted that whatever medicine the Tareb had used to heal him on the previous occasions would help him grow back limbs. He hoped to God he was hallucinating again, just like with the Sekkari, even if his propensity for imagining himself minus a limb or two was deeply disturbing.

Tareb pressed down harder on his pinned wrists, just to prove this really was happening. Tareb's reputation had been spelled out to Sheppard very clearly by a number of Pegasus locals in recent months. Sheppard knew he wasn't kidding; if he continued with his refusal to assist he was going to lose something...and not just his mind which had been his biggest fear on waking. That young girl's tear-stained face popped into his head again. Maribeth...that had been her name. He'd tried to cheer her up by giving her his flashlight and telling her the story of the Princess Bride...at least an abbreviated version. And even though he'd earned a smile, those huge eyes had told him of the pain she just couldn't shake. Fuelled for the fight he said, 'I guess you don't hear too well, Tareb. I said it's not gonna happen.'

He felt a surge of panic even as the words left his mouth, his mind immediately shifting to contemplation of which part of his anatomy would be departing first. At some level he was still hoping this wasn't real, even though his rational mind told him it was and he should agree to whatever they asked for and spare himself a world...no, a universe of pain.

'So where shall we start?' Tareb mused, as if reading his thoughts. 'We need your hands...and your arms of course. And then there's your head...we still need that...not to mention all those vital organs to keep the useful bits going.' The man's gaze hardened, the revving of the saw filling Sheppard's head along with the thumping of his heart. Tareb leaned right over him so his face was so close it was all Sheppard could see. 'So that leaves us with your legs. They're only good for running...and you're not going anywhere, Sheppard.'

The buzz changed, slowing and deepening as if the saw was suddenly working harder. It took only a second longer for Sheppard to realise that the teeth were already through his pants leg and tearing at the skin on his shin...

'I do not know how to feel,' a soft female voice whispered nearby. 'Is it possible he really is John? Or have they merely made a physical copy and inserted another consciousness within it?'

Sheppard blinked his eyes open, the nightmare instantly gone even if a sense of unease still lurked in his mind. He lifted his head a little off his pillows to look at the group of people gathered there at the end of his bed. They were so deeply engrossed in their discussion that none of them noticed he was awake. He dropped his head back down and closed his eyes, deciding to listen in.

Now he was properly conscious he felt the restraints at his wrists, thankfully the soft leather type used for medically restraining patients, not metal cuffs. They grounded him...made him feel like he was actually there not just imagining it. He felt tethered to his body in a way he hadn't felt since his return. It had almost felt as if he was separate from it and could float away at any moment until now. But he couldn't stay anchored this way forever...or could he?

'Well, I know he's been a little...off...but he's essentially Sheppard, right?' Rodney offered tentatively. 'Jennifer says his delta waves match up to what we have on record for him.'

'Hermiod told me the download hadn't been fully completed, as if it had been done in a hurry when they realised they might be boarded,' he heard Jennifer pipe up now. 'The data was still mostly retained in the chip in his brain – the filaments were connected with the areas of the brain required for him to function properly, but the information was one step removed from being in his actual brain.'

'Explains why he's been acting weird,' Ronon grunted, eloquent and succinct as ever.

And it did. So his memories and personality had been stored in a chip in his brain and were not actually in his brain. No wonder he'd felt so detached. Then he paused. But why had his consciousness been uploaded to a chip? What set of circumstances had led to that being necessary? Did his mind have to be removed from his body when the healing process Tareb had carried out on him took place? 'How can we know for certain that it is John in that body, and not someone else as Tareb has suggested?' Teyla asked.

Someone else in that body? What the hell? Enough was enough. He couldn't just lie there in silence any more. 'That body? It's my body, who else would be in it?'

All heads snapped around in his direction, and Keller was quick to rush to his bedside and reassure him. 'Don't get yourself upset, Colonel. We'll have all this figured out in no time.'

He cast a look around the group, each of them wearing expressions that flitted between wariness and shame. 'Don't get upset? Last I recall, my friends want me dead. I think that's worth getting a little upset over.'

Woolsey approached the other side of his bed, grim-faced and clearly nervous. 'We believe we know the reason you don't remember anything, Colonel.'

'Great...so tell me,' Sheppard insisted, looking around at all of them, seeing the mistrust still lighting their eyes.

'How do we know it's him?' Ronon said again, reminding Woolsey to practice caution as he shifted his stance to glare at Sheppard over his folded arms.

'He did know about your sword, Ronon,' Teyla responded, her eyes also fixed on Sheppard as if gauging his reaction. 'You said yourself that was a private moment. Only you and John knew about it.'

'So tell us some other stuff,' Rodney piped up. 'Stuff only Sheppard would know. Prove to us you are who you say you are.'

'Why are you doubting me?' he demanded, 'Don't I at least deserve an explanation?'

'Depends,' Ronon said, and that was all he said.

Sheppard sighed and rolled his eyes, wracking his brain for things he could say only each individual and himself might know. 'Uh...Teyla...when the city went into lockdown and we were stuck in Rodney's lab I was scared you would go into labour...and you let me feel Torren kicking. You took hold of my hand and put it right over where he was doing it so I could feel it too.'

A brilliant smile lit up her face, and tears, this time of happiness, moistened her warm brown eyes. 'That is true. I remember it well.'

'Okay...that's two for two,' Rodney announced. 'So what else you got?'

Sheppard shifted his focus to Woolsey. The man looked sheepish and swallowed hard. He was hugely private, just as Sheppard was. He wouldn't relish the idea of a confidential conversation being made public. But Sheppard had to do this...he had to make them believe.

'After we were put on trial for crimes against the Pegasus Galaxy, you confessed to me that you bribed Kelore to help gain our freedom.'

Now all eyes were on Woolsey. 'Well, it became clear to me very quickly that those people weren't going to listen to a purely reasoned argument. I merely...sweetened the pot, so to speak.' He ran a finger around his collar, something Sheppard hadn't noticed him doing so much lately since he'd grown more used to his uniform. He doubted it was the clothes making him uncomfortable now.

Rodney cracked a lop-sided smile. 'You sly dog!'

'Well, I for one am very grateful that you took whatever measures were necessary to free us,' Teyla smiled gently, dipping her head to him.

'Yeah...me too.' That was as close to a thank you as Ronon was likely to get.

'One last go, then,' Rodney said, facing him now. 'And I have the perfect thing.'

Of course Rodney would want control of what might come tumbling out of his mouth. They'd shared a few private moments in their five years together, times where Rodney had confided in him his fears and desires, with seemingly little understanding of how much trust he was putting in him not to share. Rodney had so few people skills Sheppard had just accepted his need to talk about just about anything from time to time with someone he clearly thought might now spill the beans. He waited to see what Rodney asked him to remember.

'When I was sick with that parasite in my brain and I was losing my mind...the night I came looking for you and you took me out on the pier for a drink...what name did I call you? The one when I pretended not to remember your real name.'

Sheppard remembered it well. Two hours of heartbreaking conversation, with Rodney struggling to string sentences together and trying to persuade him to say goodbye while he would be able to remember who Sheppard was. And he'd refused, because the thought of losing his friend had been too difficult to acknowledge even for a second. He smiled at the memory of those moments they hadn't really discussed since that day, glad he'd refused to say his farewells. He was the eternal optimist, and his hope had paid off. 'Arthur,' he grinned. 'You called me Arthur.'

'Yes!' Rodney cried, punching the air. 'He remembers.'

'Is it possible Tareb's people had access to Colonel Sheppard's memories and could be using them to fool us?' Richard asked. He was playing Devil's advocate and Sheppard didn't blame him. Of everyone here, he was the one best set to look at this analytically rather than emotionally. They had formed a good working relationship over the past year, but they didn't share the close bond he had with his team. That slight distance gave him an essential clarity the others might struggle to achieve.

'Even if they could, how would anyone else know which memories were attached to which moment? The thoughts of the human mind are chaotic unless you have some way of pulling them together, a chronological recall of the sequence those memories occurred in. Who else would have that sense of order but Sheppard?'

Rodney was grinning from ear to ear, true mad scientist style. Then, out of the blue, he flung his arms around Sheppard and pulled him into a crushing hug right there where he lay propped up in bed. Feeling awkward about the uncharacteristic show of affection, Sheppard croaked, 'Need to breathe, Rodney!

'Sorry! Sorry!' Rodney let go and stepped back, still grinning.

'Rodney is very happy you are not dead,' Teyla explained, lifting Sheppard's hand from the mattress and holding it tightly between hers. 'We all are. And we are sorry for doubting you.'

'I don't get it...why did you think I was dead? Why did you think I might be someone else? And who the hell is this body in the morgue you all thought was me?'

'That is a long and rather gruesome story, Colonel,' Woolsey told him. 'And one best kept until you're stronger.'

Oh, no. They couldn't drop breadcrumbs like that and not finish the explanation. 'What? Wait...no...you can't keep me hanging on like this!'

Keller gently but firmly pressed him back to his pillows and made him focus on her. 'I agree with Mr Woolsey, Colonel. You're staying here under observation until morning. Then, and only then, will I make a decision on whether or not you're ready to hear the truth.'

'But...'

'Doctor's orders,' she insisted.

He relaxed under her hands; throwing a fit over this wasn't going to win her over. Playing the good patient just might. 'Okay.'

'Now, if you don't mind, I'd like you all to give the colonel some space so he can get some rest. I think he's been through quite enough in the past couple of days, don't you?'

Looking shame-faced, his friends began to file out, wishing him well as they left. Teyla was the last to leave, still clinging to his hand even as she took her first couple of retreating steps. 'We are so very sorry for how we treated you, John. I am glad we were wrong.'

Unexpectedly, she advanced again, touching her forehead to his and grasping so tightly onto his shoulders it bordered on painful. It felt to him as if she thought if she let go this might not be real. He didn't complain – just let her do whatever she needed to feel better.

'All right, Teyla. I have to insist now,' Jennifer softly interjected, easing her away.

A stray tear spilled down her cheek as Teyla straightened, nodding her understanding. 'Of course. I will visit later, John. If that is all right?'

'It's already late, Teyla, and you're exhausted. Go rest. Spend some time with Torren,' Jennifer suggested, clearly a mild warning that Jennifer didn't want to see her in the infirmary again before the morning,

Teyla nodded again and hurriedly left, sniffing back more tears. John watched the door, feeling bad to let her go in that state.

'You think I was too hard on her?' Jennifer asked, apparently reading the expression on his face as she began to undo his restraints.

'No...you're right, we both need the rest,' he croaked, trying to clear his throat.

Jennifer tossed him a sympathetic smile. 'How about I get you some ice-cream for that throat?'

'That would be good.'

She patted his shoulder and headed out to arrange it.

Sheppard relaxed into his pillows, flexing his hands to get rid of the last vestiges of the pins and needles nagging at his fingertips. He really wanted to know what the others knew now, and morning seemed an eternity away right now. The black hole at the centre of his memory was driving him nuts. Maybe once they'd told him what they obviously thought he might struggle to handle all the pieces of his memory would fall back into place...for better or worse

A/N: The story has rolled over to six chapters now that I've finally completed it, so we still have two to go. With Christmas, hospital trips and family parties to attend it will most likely be next week before I finish editing and post another chapter. So, with that in mind, I want to wish all those of you who celebrate it a very Merry Christmas. And once again, thank you for the reviews. Keep them coming!