Disclaimer – still don't own them, actually still don't own anything, All belongs to MGM and all the powers that be.

The man would just not learn!

How in the world was he supposed to keep this baby-faced hormoun alive when he was constantly pulling stunts?

It was as if the gods themselves had decreed that John Sheppard must continually flaunt his mortality in their face, demanding their attention, and taunting them with his reckless survival.

Any prison child had more common sense than the Colonel, Timeus thought.

Why, oh why, had he agreed to keep the man alive?

Nelea must have caught him in a weak moment. It was the only explanation.

The shift had not gone well.

However, Timeus' frustration towards the flyer was not completely based in anger. It truth, he was beginning to worry about the older man Nelea had taken a liking too. After today's shift he was seriously starting to doubt his ability to keep John sane, let alone alive. Timeus' eyes darkened as he reflected on the past number of hours.

Stopping suddenly and turning around, Timeus let out a silent sigh of relief as he spotted John following unsteadily ten feet behind him. The man looked rough, even to Timeus' untrained eyes.

Head to toe bruising, lacerations, and contusions were an expected reality in the life of a prisoner of the mines but John's constant habit for earning beatings had merited a truly spectacular sight. Even Timeus had to refrain from wincing as Nelea tended John's wounds each night before bed.

Life on a prison diet had been no more kind. While John had always appeared slightly scrawny since his trial and subsequent sentencing to the mines, his new menu of gruel had turned scrawny into truly skeletal, having the added effect of lowered body temperature and a newly acquired blue tinge which seemed to follow the slight man when he wasn't working, despite the relative heat the dogged most of the complex.

Completing Sheppard's picture of unhealthy, Timeus could also see the older man occasionally stumble and catch the jagged passage's walls in an attempt to steady himself, constantly favouring his left side. Although he wasn't positive, Timeus wondered if the flyer's last encounter with the guards had resulted in his ribs being snapped.

But, none of this is what scared him.

No, Timeus had long since grown accustomed to the walking wounded, stumbling down the mine's dark hallways. Nor did he fear the ghost-like prisoners who faded in and out of the shadows waiting to die

What scared Timeus was anything that threatened him or Nelea and, as of now, Timeus didn't know if John was an asset, a threat, or a liability.

Timeus hated unknowns.

Seeing Sheppard stumble again catching already raw flesh as he steadied himself against the nearest wall Timeus turned around and whispered "Need help?"

John slowly looked up from his patch of floor and let out a shaky breath, fear lurking in the shadows of his eyes "No, let's get home, Nelea and the girl will be worried"

"Done."

Squaring his shoulders, Timeus turned the approaching corner and headed down the last stretch which led to Nelea's cave, never letting the man behind him out of his sight, and pondering all he had seen during their last shift.

A.N.

I'm back all! I have a working computer again. Yay!

So, here's the deal. I'm hoping smaller but more regular updates until this is finished. I think I know where we're going but may still be swayed if anyone states a strong argument. . . maybe.

Also, I'm a bit nervous as I haven't written at all since my last update and feel very, um, well to be honest I've been sitting here self-critiquing for an hour. So any comments would be appreciated as I look to get back into regular writing again. Thanks everyone who has commented and encouraged me.

You are amazing!

P.S. anyone know why my line breaks are no longer working?