Mckay was shadowing Lorne as he moved through the undergrowth, his portable laptop nestled in his hands, and eyes erratically flicking from the screen to where he was walking. He must have been staring at the screen a little too long at one point because he walked into the back of Lorne and he spun around quickly to give him a long, hard, stare.

"Doctor Mckay, don't you think it would be better if you kept your eyes forward," he said as he readjusted his P90 on his vest.

Mckay looked up at him and held a finger up, "He's moving."

"Who? Ronon?" Lorne asked standing beside him to peer at the screen.

"Within the complex," said Mckay pointing at the flickering red dot, "You see here. He's in a large open area."

"He is?" said Lorne looking closer at the screen. It just looked like a bunch of lines and dots to him.

Mckay nodded, "The transmitter I gave him is meant to bounce off of the walls so I can calibrate the size of the place he is in, as and when he goes to a new area."

Lorne looked up at him, "I'm impressed."

"Well, Its just one of my many talents," said Mckay.

"How much of this complex have you got laid out?"

"Just from where he was initially taken and the halls leading to this large area here," he typed a few commands on the keyboard.

"That would be a good place to lay explosives if we have to," said Lorne as he scanned the area around them. Mckay noticed his roaming eyes and his fingers tensing on his weapon.

"What?" said Mckay wrestling a hand down to his side arm, "Are you sensing something?" He started to scan the tree line too.

Lorne placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "No, I'm not sensing anything. What am I, superman?"

"Actually," said Mckay with a straight face, "It was Spiderman who had the senses. You know, spidey sense?"

Lorne continued to stare at him for a moment before saying, "Lets keep moving. Put that away and get your side arm out."

------------------------

Ronon had won his first fight outright. His opponent had been equally as strong as he and he had fought hard. It had taken multiple blows before he had sank to his knees. As he was brought back to the cells he spotted Shepard sitting in his corner. His head was resting on his knees and his arms were wrapped around them tightly. He looked up when he sat down beside him.

"You won then?" he said dryly.

"I did what I had to do."

Sheppard dropped his head back down onto his knees.

"I would have dishonoured him by not fighting him," Ronon explained and he heard Sheppard strangle out a laugh.

Sheppard was tired and his thoughts meandered. Should he be doing that? Should he be fighting fair so as not to dishonour his opponents? He sighed again, the lines of killing were becoming blurred and it was a distinction he had never thought about before. He fought in war and killed and that was acceptable. He fought the wraith; killed numerous, without a second thought and that was fine. He'd murdered Genii soldiers and it had been necessary, but fighting for the sheer sake of fighting seemed wrong. Perhaps he should start thinking about it as a fight for his own survival. Problem was, when it came to his own survival over somebody else's that line also became distorted.

---------------------

Beckett walked down the corridor leading down to the cells and saw that a door was open to his left. As he tried to slow his pace he felt himself being moved on by the Syth that was escorting him. In an act unbeknownst to him, he deliberately dropped his medical case by the door and some of the supplies rolled free.

"Pick those up."

Beckett knelt down and as he retrieved his supplies he gave the room a sideways glance. There were people moving around in there and the room was pretty dark but he could see that it was a weapons storage room.

A strip of gauze had rolled into the room slightly and as he reached for it, his eyes upward, he was wrenched back and made to stand. The Syth retrieved the gauze for him and picked up his medical bag, "Get moving."

As far as he was concerned he had fulfilled an objective for Sheppard and he entered the cells with a bit of a spring in his step. The door was closed behind him and as he gave other prisoners a cursory look to check that there was no one needing his immediate attention, he sought out Sheppard and Ronon.

He found them sitting in the usual place, Sheppard was unmoving from his spot in the corner. His head resting on his knees.

"Is he okay?" he asked Ronon as he came to kneel in front of him.

"I'm fine," he heard Sheppard say into his knees.

"I see you've had a fight," Said Beckett as he examined Ronon. Ronon pushed his hands away from him and said, "So has he," he gestured to Sheppard. Shortly arriving back to the cell Sheppard had been dragged off himself to engage in a bloody fight. He'd returned not so long ago, quiet and contemplative. It would seem he hadn't dishonoured his opponent just like Ronon, but the guilt was effecting him far more.

Beckett moved over to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Colonel?"

"I'm okay," he said weakly into the fabric of his trousers.

"Just let me have a look," said Beckett looking back at Ronon. He would need to fix up Ronon's face and enquire as to why he was listing to one side.

Sheppard slowly raised his head and Beckett grimaced. His face was a mask of blood.

"What happened?"

"I fought Marif," he said in a low tone.

Beckett looked into his eyes with a penlight and found his responses slow and listless. He had a gash on his hairline which was bleeding profusely and his one eye was swollen closed.

"I killed him," he stated flatly, "Didn't want to dishonour him," he rested his head back down again.

"Sheppard, stay with me."

Sheppard wouldn't move.

"He's been like ever since he got back." Ronon was holding his side again in pain.

"What happened?"

"He told me he snapped the guy's neck," said Ronon with a shrug, "I think he's guilty about actually fighting for his own survival."

"Come on Sheppard, raise your head."

Sheppard reluctantly raised it but his eyes were glassy and he was obviously having problems staying awake, "Did you hit your head?"

Sheppard laughed in a pained guttural tone.

"Okay, so you hit your head. Any nausea, headache?"

Sheppard went to drop his head again and Beckett had to place his hand under his chin to stop him from dozing, "Sheppard?"

"Headache," he said trying to force himself to stay awake.

"Nausea?"

In answer to that question he suddenly moved over and vomited onto the cold floor. He heaved until there was nothing left in his stomach, Beckett rubbing his back and then repositioning him against the wall, "That answer your question?" he stated and dropped his head back against the wall.

"Certainly does," said Beckett.

"He okay?" asked Ronon moving over to the two of them.

"He'll be better once he gets out of here," said Beckett. He sat down on the floor. He opened his medical bag and started to reach for some gauze. At this rate, his supplies would be depleted soon.

"You found anything yet Doc?" Sheppard asked from behind his closed eyes. He swallowing against still rising bile and Beckett examined his face closely before speaking.

"I've got a better understanding of the layout," he said quietly, "The corridor can go left or right out of here. Right to the arena and left takes you up and around the arena. There's a weapons store halfway down the corridor and then steps which lead up onto the second level. Their living quarters."

"Good," said Ronon, "We can do something with that information."

"The only way out of her is if your dead," said a voice from a dark corner and Sheppard opened his eyes and recognised it.

"Tev."

Tev came out of the dark, looked around shiftily and then knelt down beside them. He regarded the puddle of vomit next to Sheppard with disgust and edged back slightly, "You're talking about escaping aren't you?"

"No," said Ronon.

"Oh come on. I heard you. Schematics of the complex, that's escape talk."

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," said Sheppard.

"Kind of hard in here," said Tev.

"Has anyone ever got out of here?" asked Beckett.

"No," said Tev with a grin, "A few have tried."

"Great," said Beckett.

"And you really think he's going to get out," said Tev pointing at Sheppard, "He looks half dead already."

"I'm still alive," said Sheppard making a move to show he was listening and not passed out.

"All I'm saying is it aint gonna happen," said Tev raising his hands.

Beckett turned to Ronon, "Well it isn't going to happen if you both keep taking beatings. Let me take a look at your side."

Ronon sat back against the wall and lifted his top.

"Looks badly bruised. Any pain when you breath?"

Ronon shook his head, "No."

"Okay, well, I can give you-" He turned back to his medical bag and found it open after he had just closed it. He pulled it close and had a look inside it. Supplies were missing, and so was Tev, "That bloody-" he paused and rubbed his face.

"You want me to get those supplies back?" asked Ronon.

"I'll get them later," he said angrily, "Didn't you see anything?"

Sheppard snapped his eyes open, "What?"

"Never mind."

----------------------

The five teams scouting the planet had got close enough to see a possible entrance to the underground facility but had been pushed back by a sudden and overwhelming attack by the syth's and this time one of them was wielding a familiar P90 at them.

Mckay was running as fast as he could, with Lorne behind him and Teyla up ahead who would stop and fire back sporadically. Mckay was getting sick and tired of running.

"Keep moving," Lorne shouted into his earpiece as he ran.

The other teams were bringing up their six and the sound of gunfire sounded into the darkening skies with an echo.

"What are we going to do now?" Mckay shouted as he near tripped on an outlaying root. Lorne caught his elbow and pushed him on, "We go back to the jumpers and regroup," he stopped, turned and fired, and then ran alongside Mckay again.

"We're never going to get them out," shouted Mckay over the roar of gunfire.

"Pessimism," shouted Lorne, "Is most unbecoming on you." He tripped and fell face down, smacking his head as he went down.

Mckay grabbed him this time by the back of his tac vest and helped him up to his feet.

"Thanks."

They manoeuvred through trees, their attackers becoming less and less as they finally made it back to the waiting jumpers. Once inside it was a mad rush to complete a headcount and to tend to any injuries.

"Show me this large area of open space within the complex," said Lorne.

------------------------

Beckett had been expecting to go back to his room for another night of solace but they had moved down another corridor before hitting his own and he was taken to a familiar room. It was the cell he had ended up in when he had first arrived here.

The leader of the Syth was already in there with him and stood beside him was the character he recognised as Tev.

"What's going on?" he asked looking at Tev rather than the Syth.

"I have been informed that you have been spending more time with two prisoners."

Beckett kept his mouth clamped shut.

"I believe you know them. They are….friends?"

Beckett was beginning to feel nervous and he dropped his medical bag to the floor.

"You know, that would be an interesting fight."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Beckett as confidently as he could muster, "The two you speak of were injured. I was just tending to them."

"I know for a fact that you know them."

Beckett clenched his jaw, "What? And you trust him?" he said pointing at Tev, "He's just another prisoner."

Tev looked angry and he stepped forward. The Syth put a hand on his chest to restrain him.

"My informant is usually very reliable."

"Well, he's not in this case. You'd be a bloody fool to believe him."

He was struck across the face in a move that was both quick and fierce. He could taste blood in his mouth as he straightened up and he regarded the Syth with a confused look, "I'm telling you the truth."

"If that's the case then them fighting each other shouldn't be a problem for you."

Beckett was trying to keep calm, trying not to give anything away but he could feel his resolve weakening as he stood there.

"And this time you get to watch."

---------------

Sheppard watched in strange fascination as Ronon finished his bowl of slop in record time. He was using his bread to mop up the last bit of it and was showing it into his mouth when he saw that Sheppard was watching him, "What?" he said through a mouthful of food.

Sheppard blinked and pushed his own bowl of food over to him with his foot, "Nothing. Just can't believe you actually like that stuff."

"You get used to it," he said with a shrug and reached out for Sheppard's unwanted food.

"You think you'll get used to this?" said Sheppard as he stood up slowly, "Because it doesn't look like we're going to get a rescue any time soon."

"They'll come." Ronon continued to eat in silence.

As the doors opened to the cell and two Syth came in, Sheppard pondered on how used he had become to this state of affairs. They'd come in, pick a couple, drag them off, one would return. It was all so normal.

He was, however, not used to the finger being pointed at both he and Ronon.

----------------

Sheppard and Ronon had walked down to the arena in stoic silence. Now they were both stood beneath the lights and were under the glare of their spectators. They turned to one another and shared a blank look.

There was the rumble of collective voices above them, growing and breeding like parasites, until finally, one clear voice spoke above them all.

"You will fight each other or…both die."

"I can live with that," said Ronon plainly.

Sheppard agreed. There was no way that he was going to fight a fellow team member.

"Or…if that is not enough to convince you. Your Doctor Beckett will die instead."

"What?" Sheppard stepped forward and tried to cover his eyes from the light. He could only make out shadows above him and nothing concrete.

"Is Beckett up there?" said Ronon. He too was moving in a circle, trying to pick out shapes above.

"Make your choice and fight."

Sheppard felt his forehead crease up, his eyebrows draw together, and he let out a groan. "I was not expecting this," he said holding his side as he moved towards Ronon, "Any plans?"

Ronon hit him across the face and he recoiled backwards. His hand immediately moved up to where his cheek stung and Ronon had the grace to look apologetic.

"What the hell was that for?"

"We're going to have to fight and think," said Ronon moving towards him, "Spar."

Sheppard nodded in understanding. That he could do. They had on a number of occasions sparred in the gym and it was a rhythmic dance of sorts. They would be able to hit each other without it doing any real damage and buy themselves some time.

Sheppard moved his hand up to strike him in the face and Ronon blocked it.

"Just avoid my face area," said Sheppard as he moved in a circle around him, "And my ribs. They're broken…oh and my wrist."

Ronon sighed and swung his leg around to connect with the flesh of his thigh. It would look to all appearances as if that move had hurt when in reality he barely felt it.

"Okay, so do you have a plan?" asked Sheppard as he swept his foot out. It caught Ronon on the back of his heel and he wobbled slightly.

"Can't see a way out," he said and they both turned as weapons were dropped into the arena with a dull thud.

"No," said Sheppard risking a glance over his shoulder. He missed Ronon striking out and got a fist to the chin.

"Ronon."
"Sorry," he said as he pulled back his hand, "We have people above us, it's only us down here." He paused and Sheppard lunged forward and gave him a light jab to his torso.

"And no rescue," said Sheppard. He was getting frustrated and even just sparring was beginning to wear him out, "Okay, so we have no options."

Ronon nodded and pushed his hand into Sheppard's shoulder to knock him backwards.

Sheppard groaned, hunched over, and said weakly, "And avoid my previously dislocated shoulder."

Ronon moved over to him and helped him straighten up whilst grabbing his uninjured arm, "We can't do this forever."

Sheppard looked thoughtful and wrenched his hand free, "Maybe we could," he sighed and punched Ronon in the face. His blow caught him square on the jaw and he tried to look as apologetic as possible, "We're going to have to do something. I'm not so worried about myself, but I do worry about the Doc. Anything happens to us and he has no chance. We don't-" he ducked Ronon's swinging arm, "-know if our rescue effort will be able to get in."

"We're underground," said Ronon.

"We are?" said Sheppard stopping suddenly and connected with Ronon's elbow.

"I thought you knew."

"I was dragged in here unconscious."

"I wasn't," said Ronon, "But the way in isn't easy."
"And you thought you would just tell me this now?" He swiped out his leg, connected with Ronon's, and went down to the ground in a tangled heap. Okay, so he had some pent up anger now.

"You never asked," said Ronon.

"It's kind of important," he said getting up to his feet.

"Well I didn't see much. I had to pretend I was out of it, but I know we're underground."

Sheppard looked up at the crowd and then back to Ronon, "We need to grab some weapons and make this look more realistic. Nothing too big," he said as they both ran off in different directions to retrieve a weapon.

They returned to the centre of the arena, Ronon with a small knife and he with a much larger hunting knife, "Okay, so now what?"

Ronon lunged forward with the knife, deliberately missed and then reeled around for a second attempt.

Ronon watched as a strange expression crossed Sheppard's face and the next time he got close enough he gripped him by his clothes and pulled him close.

--------------------

"This is ridiculous," said Beckett from his position beside the leader of the Syth, "They're not going to kill each other."

"Then you will die, "the Syth said without a hint of emotion in his voice.

Beckett didn't know which the better outcome was. One of his friends dying, two of them, or himself.

It was an utterly impossible situation.

He leant forward on the balcony and watched as Sheppard and Ronon moved up close to one another. He could see that Sheppard was saying something, Ronon didn't look pleased, and the next second Ronon was pushing Sheppard away and shouting back.

---------------

"No," said Ronon.

Sheppard sighed resignedly and walked forward with his knife up, "If you don't do it. I will."

"There has to be another way."

"I'm already dead," said Sheppard, "I've got these shooting pains in my gut. I'm bleeding internally. Do it! That's an order. Don't go against another one of my orders dammit!"

------------------

Beckett wished he knew what was going on down there. Sheppard and Ronon seemed to be having a heated argument and they both looked genuinely angry. Beckett knew that Sheppard wasn't happy seeing Ronon in the cell, he had expressed as much, and now had their time in the cell together cemented a downward spiral into violence. It would seem so. Sheppard already had issues with the way Ronon often defied his orders and getting caught deliberately was one way to make him pissed off.

Sheppard moved forward and punched Ronon in the face, hard. He reeled backwards spitting blood and fell to the ground, stunned.

-------------

"I am ordering you Ronon," said Sheppard.

"Hitting me isn't going to make me angry."

"Will you ever listen to an order of mine? Listen to me," Sheppard moved up to him and using the butt of his knife he slammed it into Ronon's chin. A cut appeared, gushing blood, and Ronon swiped it away. He licked at his lips, tasting the metallic tang of blood and smiled, "Sheppard."

"Am I making you angry?" asked Sheppard.

"No," said Ronon and he used his elbow to hit Sheppard across the nose.

Sheppard was looking angrier by the minute, but he was also paling by the minute.

Had his words about having pains been the truth? He'd been awfully quiet in the few days he had been there. He almost seemed to be looking for a way out of this.

Sheppard kicked out a leg into Ronon's gut and he doubled over with pain, "Sheppard."

-----------------

"Stop this fight," said Beckett turning to the leader Syth, "You've proved your point. They are my friends."

"I'm not trying to prove a point. I'm making this fight more enjoyable."

Beckett didn't know what possessed him to lash out but before he could stop himself his fist was clenched and was aimed at the Syths face. It struck hard, bones in his hands cracked, and he retracted it to his chest. He was panting hard when somebody grabbed him from behind and made him look into the ring.

Sheppard and Ronon were fighting. It was a fast match, fists were flying, legs were being kicked and swiped out at one another and both men were looking to be gasping hard.

It was in one split second where the two men stopped to look at one another and then before Beckett could turn away, Ronon moved forward and grabbed Sheppard close.

He watched as Sheppard's eyes went wide in horror and then Ronon stepped backwards. He tossed a bloody knife down to the floor and walked away.

-----------------

Sheppard had felt the impact of the knife and had hardly believed it. The sensation as the blade slid in slowly and retracted was sickening and it made his stomach immediately lurch. He managed to stand for a moment, in which he moved his hand away from the wound and saw blood puddle at the entry wound. His hands were slicked with it and he could feel the blood running down to the waistband of his trousers and collecting there heavily. He managed a strangled groan as his vision started to grey at the edges and he looked over to where Ronon's back was to him. His brain was in sensory overload as he fell forward onto his knees. He was doubled over, watching his blood drip onto the ground below him, and before he could stop himself he went down. He tried to claw away from the darkness but it was a move that proved ineffectual. It had claimed him and it was too late.

----------------------

Sheppard's pain was palpable. Beckett felt the bile pool at the back of his throat and he swallowed to keep it at bay, "No," he said standing straight, "No…. that can't be right." He turned to the leader Syth and felt tears well at his eyes.

What had he just witnessed?

"I guess they weren't friends after all."

----------------

Ronon watched one of the Syth come over to tend to Sheppard's body. He stood, staring down at him with an unflinching gaze and watched as blood spread out from under him.

"He's dead," he said, kicking the Syth's hands away from his body.

The Syth looked up at him with a look of confusion.

"I made sure I did it right," said Ronon. His eyes were drawn down to the bloody knife on the ground.

He did what he had to do to survive.

The Syth grabbed Sheppard's prone body and lifted it up with little effort. He began to walk towards a side door, Sheppard's legs dragging along the floor as he went, his hands moving lifelessly from side to side.

He watched as he disappeared and turned to go back to his cell.

He hadn't dishonoured Sheppard.

TBC

This is not a death fic…………