Six

She has finally lost her sense of time. She really has no idea if she's been sitting here for ten minutes or ten hours. The only thing she knows is that Evan is still alive, and as of now, that is everything that counts for her. Alright… so maybe not everything… but somehow being so near to him and knowing him to be alive, even after everything, makes bearing all the other things – no word from Carson, her edginess towards Meyers and the overwhelming feeling of dread their captor inspires in her every time she has to be in the same room with him – a little easier.

Evan has been drifting in and out of consciousness, once or twice being lucid enough to banter a little with her. During one of his lucid spells he managed to lift up his left hand and gently grab her own left hand which had been lying on his shoulder just then. If she hadn't known better then she'd have said that he was actually drawing comfort from the simple fact that it was her hand he'd been reaching for.

She needs so very much to get out of this. Right now she feels herself sliding down a spiral she'd never wanted to descend. If someone had asked her a year ago how likely she'd have thought to develop such disturbing feelings for one of her COs she'd just have laughed in that person's face and had declared it impossible. Stories like that… only had happened to other people, once upon a time.

Of course everyone at the SGC and succinctly in Atlantis as well knows the story of Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill, eternal not-quite-couple. But there have been other stories of not so famous people over the years. She's glad, for example, that Captain Reece is going to have her own team in a few days and thus being more or less free to do whatever she wants with her then former team leader. She also remembers stories about other military personnel of the SGC that used to sneak off to unused storage rooms or members of the Atlantis military detachment "exploring" the Ancients' city in pairs.

At times, she thinks a little disgruntled, while she absentmindedly lightly caresses Evan's cheek with her thump, the SGC and Atlantis feel like one big college dorm, because it's not only the soldiers, but also the technicians and the medics and the scientists… practically everyone. She used to roll her eyes at them – well, before she'd started to develop feelings for a certain then CMO, that is. Then she started to shrug at them.

But even a few weeks ago she'd have sworn every oath that she'd never be so dumb as to fall in love with a fellow soldier. It's cliché and corny and downright stupid. But sometimes… life seems to have a very absurd sense of humor and it throws you right into a cliché, only to show you that clichés do come from a very real background. She makes a face at that thought. For all I care, life can very well go and kiss my ass, she thinks.

And anyway, she isn't in love. Not at all. She just… has some confusing feelings she needs to think about a little. Yes, sure, she gets a little flutter in her stomach every time he smiles at her. And of course she feels flattered when she thinks about his beautiful sketches of her – which seem to make her more beautiful than she actually is. But that doesn't mean she's in love. At the utmost, it means that she has a silly little crush, that will fade with the weeks and months to come. And the… deeper things? Well, he is her best friend, even after everything.

So it's totally normal to suffer with him, right? It's totally normal never wanting to let him go again, wanting to protect him from this guy, isn't it? Yes, of course. Absolutely normal.

Aw, who is she kidding, anyway? Herself, mostly. She heaves a sigh. This is running in circles. She has enough of sitting around, she wants – needs – to do something. "Hey… would you mind stopping this drumming-your-fingers-on-my-shoulder-thing?" A little startled, she jerks, which prompts a groan from below. "Thanks. That really served to make me feel better." Oh, right. Evan. Still having his head on her thigh. Oops.

"Glad to be of service, sir." She smirks and he smirks back. Or at least tries to. It's really difficult to spot it with the flickering light from the fire and his split lip and everything.

"I thought so. You know, you've got nothing to be nervous about." God, not him as well. Why do they all think that she needs some encouragement or counseling? She's been trained for this – well, maybe not exactly for this, but that's not the point right now – and she knows how to handle this situation.

"I'm not nervous. I just… don't like sitting around. And quit giving me encouragement. I'm not the one with the broken rib." He takes a shaky breath. To keep himself from laughing, she realizes. What is it, she wonders, that makes him strong enough not to lose his sense of humor even in situations like this?

"For all we know, no one of us might have a broken rip. I for my part feel perfectly fine." Now she does give him a little slap on the shoulder. If… when they make it out of here, she's so gonna kick his ass the next time they spar for all the quips and the bravado. Mainly because she knows that he's mostly doing this for her sake, and she hates it when someone tries to mollycoddle her.

"Don't you dare admonishing me for that. You deserved it. Now… I think I have to remove your pillow, because you know… I lost feeling in my feet a while ago."

"Alright. Just… be a little careful, right. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself in any way, huh?" She just rolls her eyes and takes off her jacket to replace it with her thigh that she indeed carefully extracts from under his head. She manages to get this whole thing over with in only a few painful minutes and the first thing she does when her legs are finally free to move is stretching them with a long sigh of relief.

And yes, immediately her feet start to tingle painfully. Alright, note to self: Don't play pillow for a wounded ever again, is the first thing crossing her mind as she finally manages to stand up and move her legs. "Hey, you know… while you're at it… could you have a look at the Doc's bag if there are any painkillers left?" Ah, someone is becoming desperate. She smirks to herself.

"And here I though you were doing "perfectly fine", mister.", she throws at him while rummaging through Carson's supplies… and yes, there they are.

"I… might have been a little exaggerating." Mh… now that she's got the stuff… she has no idea how much to give him and everything. About time she wakes up Meyers anyway. He'll be delighted to do something again. She gets up again and walks over to Meyers to nudge him awake.

"Yeah, you might have been. Hey, Sergeant Sleeping Beauty, how about you do your job?" Immediately Meyers is wide awake, as she notices with quite some envy. She's mastered a lot of military necessary skills, but falling asleep at every spot possible and impossible and going from deep sleep to wide awake in a few seconds is not one of them.

"With pleasure, ma'am. If you tell me what to do, that is." Sometimes she really doesn't know if he's mocking her. Throughout this mission, Meyers has continued to amaze her. Under the usual disguise of a stoic tight-lipped Sergeant there's a guy full of cocky optimism and a healthy lack of respect for authorities. Not disrespectful, but… not in awe of his superiors. She likes that, she decides.

"Putting the Major out of his misery and administering some painkillers would be a good start." He gives her a half-grin, as if to say "He been getting on your nerves, Lieutenant?" and she just rolls her eyes in acknowledgement.

"Will do, ma'am. Anything else? Change in his condition?" She shakes her head. At least that hasn't happened yet. Meyers just nods and walks over to Evan, who thankfully doesn't make a lot of fuss about being checked through again. Now, if only Carson would be back again…

And with that the door opens again. Fate surely has a sense for drama, she thinks a little sourly. She didn't need to have "Speak of the devil" illustrated literally to her, thank you very much. Well, but at least Carson comes back through the door seemingly unharmed. His face looks haunted and kind of haggard, but overall, at least there's no blood anywhere on his body. She has to hold herself back from running up to him by force, because of course there's Mr. Evil coming in with him.

This time, though he doesn't even spare her a glance but goes straight for Evan which causes a surge of fear going through her body she has absolutely not expected. "Look who's conscious. Your Dr. Beckett helped me a great deal, you know, and I'm such an impatient man… I really want to start testing as soon as impossible… as of… now." No. No, he's not going to take him with him a second time. Evan won't last through that, and she will never forgive herself if she lets this happen now.

Before she has even thought this through, her mouth has already opened. "Hey, why don't you pick on someone your size, huh?" Everyone whips around to her. Well, here she goes. No turning back now.

"And look who just won't shut up." Mr. Evil comes sauntering over her. She can't believe he took her bait so fast, and so she forces herself to stay wary. "Well… what is it you wanted to say, little girl?"

Again, he is invading her personal space by standing very close to her. It takes all her force of will not to show him what she usually does with people who invade her personal space uninvited. "I think you're a coward. And I think you're all talk and no action." Her eyes dart behind the guy, and she can see Evan trying to get up. How she wishes now to be psychic and be able to tell Meyers and Carson to stop Evan from what he's trying to do.

"You do? What would it take me to show you I'm all about action?" She's nearly got him. He's giving her nearly all of his attention, and he's almost let his lower regions get the better of him.

"Actually showing instead of telling would be a good start." Now Evan is doubling his efforts to get up, and finally Meyers and Carson, whose brains are not as muddled by pain, drugs and exhaustion and who obviously got what she's playing at, are trying to subdue him, with Carson furiously shaking his head at Evan.

"Oh… I think I can arrange that. And come to think of it… a break would be in order, after exhausting my intellect. Maybe, little girl, there's more to you than I thought. I'm already excited to find that out." Good God, he took her bait all the way, hook, line and sinker. He's taking her with him and letting Evan in peace, giving Carson time to take care of his wounds and everything. Her only problem is… that she's mortally afraid of what will follow. But it's too late for regrets now.

Without waiting for her answer, he grabs her by arm and drags her toward the door. When she's passing by Evan, she catches his eyes. They're difficult to read now… fear and disappointment and hurt and shame are in them, and all she can do is mouth "I'm sorry." to him, before Mr. Evil finally drags her through the door. Only now it occurs to her how much she'd actually been afraid of that door.

When they're through, she notices that Evan was right. The first door to the right is closed while the first to the left is open and she can catch a glimpse of a room stuffed with all kinds of scientific equipment. Then there's the second door and she's pushed in. In a corner of her mind she realizes that this is the room where Mr. Evil knocked Evan around.

But her he just pushes to her knees on the ground and crouches in front of her, with a mad leering grin on his face. "And now… scream, little girl. Or I'll make you."

If there was ever a situation where she would be really grateful for the humiliation that Marine training can be, it's this one. Because if they managed to drill one thing into her it's this: No one can take her dignity and her pride from her. No one. So she still can hold her head high and sound totally unfazed when saying: "Yeah, I bet."

"No, I mean it. Scream. Because out there, they will hear you. And I want them to imagine what makes you scream." Goodness gracious, that guy is worse than anything else she's ever encountered in all her time as a soldier serving in combat operations. He's mad, but not the stark raving kind of. More in an insanely cold way.

"So you are all talk." His eyes light up and he pulls out a small pocket knife.

"You are about to discover that sometimes… talk is all that is needed." With that, he opens the knife and she starts to furiously curse at herself. She seriously needs to ask someone to sew her bloody freaking damn mouth shut for ever. Maybe then it will stop getting her into trouble again and again.


A/N: Oh people, that was so sad today... Wouldn't that have been great? Germany European Champion? ducks rotten tomatoes from Holland, England, Czech Republic, Sweden... Anyway, where was I?

Oh, right. Chapter.

Thanks for all your reviews, guys! I find it especially interesting when you focus on other things that I focused on or post questions I didn't even think about when writing the chapter. That really helps me to develop my stories, even if it goes into a different direction than you've pointed me into ;) Thank you a lot for that :)