Because you've all been so wonderful and left lovely words of encouragement, I shall reward you with the next instalment.

But be warned – this is NOT going to be pleasant. So if torture (actual or implied) makes you feel icky, look away now…

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Chapter 9: The Scientist and the Psychopath

Ow…

Rodney's eyes fluttered open and he let out a low moan as the pain flooded his body. Deciding to focus on his situation rather than the few parts of him that didn't hurt, he let his vision adjust. He was in a cave, strung up like a slab of meat, but thankfully alone.

Oh, that's a really bad analogy, McKay, he thought to himself, trying to banish images from the horror movies he'd seen on team-nights.

He tried to think back to what had happened. As soon as they'd arrived on P3X-433, his other self had shifted back into phase and dialled out to another location. And then they went to a whole host of others before they'd finally ended up here.

Wherever the hell 'here' was.

The Canadian wasn't an idiot. He knew that their doubles had made it virtually impossible for John and the others to track them. Even if they managed to somehow narrow down the hundreds of possible locations, it would take months if not years for them to find him. And something told the physicist that he wasn't going to be around for that long…

He felt a jolt of worry at the thought of the wild haired pilot – the other Sheppard had hit him hard, but Rodney was convinced that he'd seen the soldier run into the Gate room just before the monster wearing his friend's face had pulled him into the rippling blue puddle.

His shoulders were burning from the unnatural position they'd been forced into and Rodney was certain that they were on the verge of popping from their sockets. He tried to balance himself better, almost screaming at the jolt of pain that burnt its way through his left arm. Sheppard's double had smashed the cast that had been protecting his shattered bones, claiming that Rodney could slip out of his bindings. That had hurt more than he thought possible but he'd grit his teeth, determined not to cry out. Unfortunately, his stoic attitude had simply egged the other John on, leading to a beating.

Now, though, the appendage was beginning to go numb, and Rodney was worried. That can't be good. If only he could stand more upright…

Before he could dwell on how screwed he really was, his captors came back. He noted the camera and laptop tucked under his alternate self's arm and fought down the panic.

"Oh look," the other John drawled, "he's awake again."

"Sheppard, enough," McKay's twin snapped. "You know damn well he's no good to us dead."

Rodney really didn't like the sound of that.

"Spoil sport," the alternate Sheppard griped.

"You know," Rodney croaked, "you could… be a little more… hospitable."

"You're right," his double agreed with a sick smile. "I suppose it's only polite to explain the situation to you." He placed the items on the floor and walked over to the scientist, lifting Rodney's head gently before frowning at the bruises and split lip. "John really made a mess of you, didn't he? Naughty Colonel." Behind him, his team-mate chuckled. "On the bright side, it'll help convince your friends how serious our intentions are."

"Leave them out… of this…"

"Now where would the fun be in that?" his copy asked. "You see, originally we were simply going to push you and your Sheppard through the mirror and take your places. No one would have been any the wiser and I could have arranged for a little 'accident' with the device to prevent the two of you from reappearing."

"But your John was quick to rumble us," the alternate Sheppard continued. "You really should have a talk with him about that paranoia. It wasn't very nice of him to sic his long haired guard dog on me."

"Why… did you want… to do that?" Rodney asked, trying to keep them talking. His vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, making him feel nauseous, so he opted to shut his eyes.

"You mean other than the fact that we were going to be sent to prison for the rest of our lives?" John's copy replied. "We're wanted men, doc."

"Poor thing," the other Rodney crooned, stroking his counterpart's face. "I think we've confused him."

"We'll have to explain it better then," his team-mate said. "Simply put, we were hired by the Trust to steal Ancient technology." He smiled wolfishly. "But things got a little… out of hand."

"You… you lied to… Elizabeth…" Rodney whispered, trying desperately to cling onto the fragile grip he had on consciousness.

"No, that was all true," his twin stated. "Up until the Prometheus, anyway. That was my doing actually, causing an overload in the hyperdrive system. They never even knew what hit them."

"One of your better explosions," Other-John said, giving his friend a proud look.

"Thank you," Other-Rodney replied with a malevolent grin.

"But… I don't understand," Rodney muttered. "Why would… you do that? How…?" He trailed off, feeling sickened. The man in front of him was meant to be him, effectively. How could he be so cold about causing the deaths of hundreds of innocent people?

"Because it felt good."

Rodney felt like he was trapped in an unending nightmare. "Bastard," he growled, wrenching his head out of his double's grasp. "You're sick…"

"Maybe, but I really don't care any more. Losing Carson and Elizabeth was… well, it was too much to take," the alternate McKay replied after a moment. "For a while, I didn't know what to do with myself, but then I found out that Sheppard was considering the offer from the Trust," he grinned and continued, "so I figured I'd join him."

The grin fell and his face hardened. "After all, I don't have anything else left to lose."

"Neither of us does," John's double added.

"What… are you going to… do with me?" Rodney asked, terrified by what he might hear. The men in front of him were psychopaths, no question about it.

"Since your Colonel Sheppard threw a spanner in the works, so to speak, we're going to have to do things the old fashioned way," the alternate McKay said. "We want sanctuary in this dimension, and you're going to help us get it."

Rodney's heart thumped loudly in his chest as he realised what his counterpart meant – they were going to use him as leverage, a bargaining chip. Over my dead body…

"It'll never work," he said defiantly, receiving a whoop from his inner Sheppard.

"And why would that be, Rodney?" Other-John asked.

"Because… Elizabeth won't negotiate… with terrorists," Rodney replied, panting from pain and fear. "And Sheppard… would kill you… rather than… let you stay."

"Oh, believe me, doc, by the time I'm through with you, they'll do whatever we want."

"I should listen to him if I were you," Other-McKay said. "John's an expert when it comes to torture, really has a knack for prolonging the agony." He moved back and retrieved the equipment he'd placed on the ground. "Let's get on with it, shall we?" he asked, looking at his team-mate as he set the camera up and pressed the record button.

John's twin grinned and took off his jacket. "Thought you'd never ask, buddy," he replied before advancing on Rodney.

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John woke up slowly, his head throbbing. Blinking to clear his blurred vision, he realised that he was in the infirmary. What the hell…? Looking around, the pilot noted that none of his team-mates were there. That was strange – they usually had to be pried away with a crowbar if he was a resident, especially a certain scientist…

Then a memory surfaced that had him scrambling about in his bed, trying to untangle his body from all the wires surrounding him.

"McKay!" he yelled hoarsely, panic and fear taking control and lending him a frightening strength.

Within seconds, Carson was by his side having heard the commotion from his office. "Colonel, calm down! You'll do yourself a mischief!"

"No, no, no, gotta get out of here, gotta get Rodney," Sheppard babbled frantically, not registering Beckett's words. "Bastards took him…" He lashed out blindly, trying to free himself from the physician's grip. "Let go of me, doc! I've got to go! I have to find him!" He groaned as the room span wildly.

"John Sheppard, you listen to me!" Carson growled in an authoritarian voice. "You've a whopping great concussion! I need you to calm down and stop fighting me." He held onto the Air Force Man with all his might as he repeated himself in an attempt to calm the agitated man.

Finally, the Scotsman's words began to sink in and John ceased his struggles. "Carson?" he asked in a tiny voice, as if he was only just beginning to properly register where he was.

"Aye, lad?"

The soldier turned an alarming shade of green. "Think I'm gonna be sick…"

Beckett sighed. "I'm not surprised, what with the way you were thrashing about." As he spoke, he grabbed a bed pan and gently rolled his friend onto his side, rubbing comforting circles on John's back as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

John let out a shaky breath once he had finished, gladly accepting the glass of water offered. Relieved when it didn't make an immediate reappearance, he closed his eyes. Carson took advantage of the moment to administer an injection.

"What was tha' for?" Sheppard asked suspiciously, knowing that he must have been in a bad way not to notice the needle.

"To help with the nausea, son, and the headache from hell that I'm certain you have."

"How… how's Radek?"

Beckett smiled at Sheppard's selfless question. "The boy'll be fine," he replied. "He's got a mighty fine headache and a couple of nasty bruises on his neck, but nothing that can't be fixed. Now you, on the other hand…"

John gave him a wobbly version of his usual cheeky grin. "Hard headed, doc, you know me. Any word from Lorne yet?"

"Oh, so you remember that part then?" The teasing grin fell as Carson shook his head. "The Major got back about half an hour ago. His team scoured the planet from top to bottom with the help of our friends, the Damarians, but there was neither hide nor hair of them."

The pilot's face remained impassive, but the Scotsman could see the worry flicker in his eyes. "Must've gated somewhere else," he stated eventually. "Maybe to dozens of other planets."

"Radek's working on it, but I fear you're right, son," Beckett replied.

John gave a weak shrug. "It's what I'd do." He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"And speaking of 'doing', what on Earth are you up to?" the doctor demanded as he watched the Colonel pull out the IV line in his hand.

"I can't stay here, Carson," Sheppard explained. "Not while Rodney's in trouble."

Beckett was about to argue, but then remembered the conversation he'd had with McKay earlier that morning and shut his mouth.

John saw the look that crossed his friend's face and stopped changing out of his scrub top to place a hand on Carson's shoulder. "Don't go there, doc," he said firmly. "None of this was your fault."

"I wish I could believe that, John," Beckett replied sadly, "but I can't help but think that if only I hadn't been so heavy-handed, we would nae be in this situation. After what I said to Rodney…" He shook his head. "Honestly, Colonel, I wish I'd never banned him from his lab. I could've prevented this."

Sheppard shook his head. "No, we'd be in even more trouble. Look, McKay's a law unto himself at the best of times. Every now and then, we've gotta be firm with him." He smiled gently. "And before you start beating yourself up about over-stepping your boundaries as a doctor, remind yourself that you were doing it as a friend. Rodney knew… knows… that." He grimaced at the slip, telling himself firmly not to go down that road.

He was going to find his errant geek and then he was going to knock seven shades of shit out of his double. If they've so much as split a hair on McKay's head…

"Since when did you get so wise?" Carson asked, pulling him away from his vengeful thoughts.

John chuckled. "Let's just say that I had a good teacher." He squeezed the Scot's shoulder affectionately before letting his arm drop.

"So what's the plan then?" Carson asked once Sheppard resumed getting dressed.

The Air Force man scowled. "As much as I hate to say it, the next move is theirs."

"We wait?"

"Yeah, doc, we wait." And pray, John added silently, feeling sick to his stomach.

We pray…

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Oh, poor boys! Aren't I evil? I wonder what the dark!boys are planning to do to our beloved geek…

If you want to find out, click on the shiny review button. It'll only take a few seconds, and you know feedback makes me type faster!

Go on, you know you want to.