A/N: The moment has finally come, my friends! Shep is going to suffer big time in this chapter and the next, and I think you all will enjoy the angst as much as I did! But first, Rodney gets attacked by a wolf-boy, and Carson gets a little more hurt/comfort! I'm going to try to finish writing this as quickly as possible, as I have a term project due that I need to dedicate next week to. I'll be away at AnimeUSA this weekend, but I'll try to get some more of this done. I'm glad you guys have started leaving me reviews again, and I'm glad that you guys are enjoying it. I was starting to get worried that a werewolf had eaten all of you!


The hairy people that John had just introduced to him were quietly clustered around the campfire, sitting close for warmth. Rodney mused contentedly to himself that they didn't seem to be such a bad bunch after all. They had fed him, and had even offered him a lean-to of his own for the night to rest under, claiming that they could smell rain coming in the air. But he hadn't been sure how much that forecast could be trusted, and decided that he immeasurably preferred the warmth of the fire for the time being. A third helping of porridge had been offered to him upon slurping up the remnants of a second from the crude bowl, but he declined and politely thanked them for the much-welcome meal. There was no use in getting indigestion on some freaky, backward world that didn't have any pink bismuth readily available for consumption.

He lazily stretched out on the ground in front of the fire, his stomach pleasantly satiated for the first time in days. But just as he had closed his eyes, he felt a chilly drop of water fall on his cheek. And then another. The fire crackled and popped, but did not fade as droplets of water began to pelt it and him.

It just figures that they'd be right, Rodney thought to himself with a sigh as he sat up straight and pulled his knees up to his chest, attempting to defiantly wait out what could have just been a passing shower. The hairy people were beginning to take cover inside their huts and lean-tos for the night, and Rodney was soon left by himself at the fire, shivering from the chill of the water that was beginning to drench him. He turned his chin toward the fire as John approached, hiding his discomfort.

"Come on, Rodney," John said to him softly with a motion of his hand. "Pull your foot out of your mouth and come inside. Lo'Nan and Anara have invited us to dry off for a while by the fire in their hut."

With a disgruntled sigh, Rodney slowly climbed to his feet and silently followed John into a short, but sizable hut on the other side of the camp. Their hosts were already waiting inside, and Lo'Nan was stoking a cozy fire in the center as Anara laid out mats for them to sit upon. As he stepped inside, a small, black-haired creature ran past Rodney into the hut, and it startled him enough that he nearly tripped. It giggled softly, hiding behind Lo'Nan's well-muscled legs, and John snickered softly at him as he stared at the creature with surprise.

"That's just Jol'Nan," John whispered, leaning in close so that only Rodney could hear him. "He's an energetic little tyke, isn't he?"

"Hmm," he groaned contemptuously, but did not say more. He despised kids; they were monster-like by themselves enough already, and he wasn't sure how well he'd take to being around one that had been turned into a monster by the Wraith.

The poor kid, he found himself thinking instead. As much as he hated having to deal with the likes of him, he felt sorry for him. There were no other boys around that he could see, or any other kids at all for that matter, and life on that planet was harsh. He didn't envy the life the boy would have if he were to be forced to grow up in this place.

Anara scooped the boy up into her arms and quietly admonished him for his bad manners before turning back to speak to Rodney. "I apologize if he startled you. We do not often have guests."

"Oh... uh, sure," Rodney mumbled as politely as he could as he stiffly sat down cross-legged on a mat next to Colonel Sheppard. "No problem."

Rodney started to feel somewhat left out as John and Lo'Nan began to speak, conspiring together in soft, hushed voices. The adventurous little boy seemed confident around them, apparently put at ease by his parents' generous nature. He slowly crept closer to Rodney, who was watching with a bemused expression as the boy grinned at him mischievously. He continued to creep closer and closer, until he leaped forward into Rodney's lap and landed against his chest, almost as if pouncing on prey, causing him to make an 'oomph' noise. He was then caught in a furiously tight bear hug, and grimaced with discomfort as the boy's claws dug lightly into his flesh in the process.

It was like being terrorized by the kids on M7G-677 all over again, and he could do nothing about it while the rest of the room snickered with amusement at his expense. Rodney turned his head to the left and gave John a pleading look that bespoke of extraordinary discomfort, but he was too busy chatting with his new friend to really notice. Luckily for him, though, the boy soon settled down in his lap and nestled himself protectively and tiredly against Rodney's chest. It must have been getting close to his bed time.

When John and Lo'Nan finally stood and began to make their way to the exit without him, Rodney looked up at them in confusion. "Where are you going?"

"We're heading out for a while," John said casually, turning to face him as Lo'Nan waited patiently for him outside. "Carson is out there, and I'm going after him."

"And you're just going to leave me here?" Rodney outright protested. A surge of panic welled up within him at the thought of being left behind.

"We expect there will be resistance, Rodney," John explained furtively. "You're in no shape to do any fighting right now."

"Against others like them?" he argued. "No, I'm not, and neither are you!"

"We'll see about that," John shot back defiantly. "I'm not leaving Carson out there alone. You stay here with Anara. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Rodney watched him pull the cloth at the door back into place behind him, and knew in his heart that something was going to go wrong; horribly wrong. The boy wriggled around in his lap and wrapped his arms around Rodney's chest comfortingly. His eyelids drooped sleepily, and a yawn escaped between the tiny fangs arranged neatly in his mouth.

"Don't worry," he told him confidently, but tiredly. "My daddy will watch over your friend while they are gone."


Nia had been there for him when the pain had returned, and he was immensely grateful for it. He had just finished eating by the fire when the pain had begun to wrack his body again, and it felt the same as when he'd been a prisoner in the compound. Nia had dragged him into a hut and had laid him next to a smaller fire, where he had writhed and screamed for some time. But now that it had passed for the most part, he simply laid there weakly, trying to wait for the tremors to stop.

His breathing had come in short gasps, but was now starting to calm a bit. Nia had been sitting next to him quietly, and at first he had hardly noticed her presence through the haze. As the painful tremors faded and finally began to cease, he felt awash with a sweet, euphoric sensation. Carson rubbed absently at his jaw, which was soon the only part of his body that still throbbed. He'd been clenching his teeth together tightly against the pain, but he supposed that it was something he could deal with.

Carson had become fully aware of Nia's presence when she gently helped him sit upright and began to carefully inspect him for injuries. She allowed his head to roll forward against her, which came to rest against the bare curve where her shoulder met her neck. The soft fur that grew there tickled his forehead and nose as her hands completed their search, finally coming to a stop at his face. A sharp twinge of pain made him jerk his head back as she touched his jaw.

If there was one thing that he felt was different about him at that moment, it was that his sense of smell seemed to have become ever so much more sensitive, seemingly by a hundred-fold. He could smell the distinctiveness of the wood by the smoke coming from the fire, and could smell the distinct scents of the people that moved about outside, even through the rain that had begun to fall from the pitch blackness of the sky. But as his forehead lay nuzzled against her neck, the smell that surprised him most of all was how wonderfully feminine Nia's scent suddenly seemed. Her femaleness filled his senses. It was strangely intoxicating as he suddenly felt himself experiencing a very carnal, very primal desire for her.

If she sensed any of this from him, she did not show it. As he allowed the pitter-patter of the rain outside to soothe him, he slowly reached out a finger to trace a line of soft fur that grew in a pattern along her chin. But before he could follow the line further down across her neck and chest, she grasped his hand in hers and maneuvered it away safely into his lap.

"I'm sure these sensations are new to you," she whispered to him softly. "But right now, you should rest."

He was almost glad that the discoloration that had first appeared on his hands and arms had spread, and now reached up well past his neck and chin under his thick, scruffy beard. If not for that, she might have noticed him blushing beet red with embarrassment, even in the dim light given off by the fire. She touched his jaw again, and he flinched from the pain as his lips curled back to reveal what she had been seeking to inspect.

"Your teeth have shifted," she said with a compassionate frown, then reached into the pouch on her hip and produced a gnarled root. "Chew this, but do not swallow."

She slipped it into his hand, and he sniffed at it curiously. "What is it?"

"It will numb the pain," she explained. "Just don't swallow it. If you do, your throat will go numb as well, and you may choke."

Carson cautiously placed the root in his mouth and grimaced with pain as he crushed it between his teeth. It tasted strongly like mint, and it produced a tingling sensation in his sinuses that almost resembled that of menthol. Slowly and surely, his gums began to tingle too, and the pain faded away as he chewed.

"Thank you," he said with a cough. His words were slurred and distorted from the numbing effect of the root, but she understood, and he smiled at her gratefully.

She returned his smile, and they sat together in silence for several moments. Then suddenly, her back arched stiffly with nervousness, and her head turned toward the exit expectantly. As Carson listened intently, an eerie howl pierced through the relatively quiet drumming of the rain, but was difficult to pinpoint. Nia stood rigidly, and he looked up at her with concern.

"What is it?" he inquired softly, but she did not move. "What's happenin'?"

"Our enemies are preparing to attack us," she growled lowly, baring her fangs with anger. "Stay here, and do not leave the hut."

The sounds of harsh, guttural growling and shrieking sounded in the darkness around them, and Nia rushed outside to help. Carson's breathing became heavy and labored as he peered through the hut's door frame intently, sampling the air with his newly-sensitive nose, and he tasted the sickening scent of blood. Guilt stabbed at him again, and being that he was starting to feel better, he decided to try to help however he could. He stepped outside hesitantly.

The rain quickly soaked him, dripping down into his eyes over his thickened eyebrows, and he cringed with surprise as a body thudded against the ground near the hut. Tregan was standing over the prostrate and bloodied form of a creature that Carson did not recognize, and he howled with voracious bloodlust as he lunged for his next victim. He and a black creature fought violently, growling and slashing at each other with their claws. Blood was staining what little was left of their clothing, which hang tattered on their broadly-muscled chests. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark away from the fire, and he saw other shadows moving about in the darkness. As he watched with growing concern, the two creatures that were fighting closest to him seemed to be evenly matched.

Another shadowy figure approached Tregan in the darkness and leaped through the air, readying its claws for an attack from behind. Carson grabbed at the creature mid-air, and flung it to the ground with every bit of strength he could muster. Tregan had seen it coming, though, and snorted his approval at Carson as he continued to grapple with the black creature. But the creature that he had just thrown wasn't unconscious yet, and was pushing itself to its feet in the mud, its red eyes glaring furiously at him.

Carson backpedaled when it crouched down and leapt at him, and he tried to bring up his arms to protect his face and chest from its onslaught. It was strong, insanely strong, but he fought against it bravely until he felt the hands of two more enemies grasping at him from behind. He became enraged, kicking at them and struggled in their grip, managing to throw one behind off of him, and punched furiously at the one in front. A moment later, only one of them was left trying to hold him, and he raised his hand to slash at it with his new claws.

Putting the full brunt of his weight behind his swing, he slashed at the shadowy figure's chest. It fell hard and rolled onto its back, letting out a too-human cry of pain as it lay sprawled out over the mud. And as Carson's eyes completely adjusted to the dimness, he looked down to find that he recognized the figure that lied before him. His heart pounded in his ears, and panic welled within him. It was Colonel John Sheppard, and he was bleeding profusely from three very long and jagged lacerations on his chest.