** Well, here's the next chapter, as promised. I hope you all enjoy it. I've been feeling inspired today and almost have the next chapter finished, too. And there's still nine hours till bedtime! **

Teyla woke with a start, choking and clawing at her chest as if fighting off an attack. Ronon instantly restrained her, talking her through it until she came to her senses. They all knew the signs; Taylor had somehow connected with the Wraith.

Carson added his ministrations, calming the shaken Athosian until she was able to explain what she'd seen.

'I saw a Wraith queen; she was threatening the colonel, but he fought to free himself. She fed upon him and restored him as punishment for his insolence.'

Ronon's top lip quivered in a sneer of pure hate, and he stalked away to the back of the jumper, giving himself space to come to terms with his anger.

'What? Is he…is he all right? McKay stammered, his hand moving to his chest as if subconsciously protecting himself from the mere thought of it.

'He is injured, but alive. I sense they have a great purpose for him. They will not kill him willingly…he is too valuable to them.'

'Any ideas what that purpose might be?' Lorne asked, turning in his seat to face her.

Teyla shook her head sadly. 'I could not see that much…perhaps as we get closer to the planet the answers will come to me.'

'I'm not sure it's safe for you to be connecting to them,' Rodney pointed out, his face frozen in abject terror. 'I mean, if they work out we're looking for him, they'll come after us, right?'

'I am not doing this by choice, Rodney,' Teyla assured him. 'The visions are coming to me voluntarily.'

'All the same,' Carson interrupted. 'Rodney may have a point. We know the connection can go both ways. Is there any way you can make yourself less receptive?'

She shrugged her slender shoulders. 'I have never needed to try.'

'She doesn't need to,' Ronon grunted, joining them again. 'Teyla is the closest thing to a tactical advantage we have. Since we can't track where Sheppard is in that building, we might need her to take a look around for us in advance of heading in there.'

Lorne nodded slowly, considering the suggestion. 'That might work. We'll need you to sever the connection if you suspect the Wraith can feel you, but it might help us to locate the colonel.'

Rodney looked as if he might actually choke at the thought of using Teyla that way again. 'Have you people forgotten what happened last time we did this? Teyla was taken over and we struggled to get her back!'

'We're aware of that, Dr McKay, but would you prefer to go into that complex completely blind, or take a risk and potentially cut down the length of time we have to spend there?' Lorne asked him.

'Well, it's not much of a choice, is it?' he spat. 'It's like asking me to cut off either my right arm or my left leg. Either one will probably kill me.'

'Exactly,' Ronon growled. 'But whatever happens, at least we're better prepared to defend ourselves than Sheppard is.'

Clearly feeling guilty for thinking of himself again, Rodney averted his gaze, then nodded. 'Of course, you're right. We have to try something.'

Teyla felt some sympathy for the scientist. She had been a leader of her people and a warrior for many years. She had face the threat of the Wraith all her life, as had Ronon, but it was certain Rodney had never thought his trip to Atlantis would involve such dangers. His brilliance could not be questioned, and the expedition would have struggled without him, but at times like this he seemed like nothing more than a lost and frightened child. When backed into a corner, he defended himself with sarcasm and insults, but they didn't hide the fear at the root of it. At least not from her. That was why she allowed Rodney to rail when he needed to. Once it was out of his system, he always came around.

She reflected on what a diverse collection of people her team was. Rodney - intelligent beyond anyone's comprehension, but scared of his own shadow; Ronon - undoubtedly damaged by the things the Wraith had done to the people of Sateda and his time as a runner, his bitterness bubbling just beneath the surface like a sea of molten lava that could erupt at any time; Teyla herself - calm and collected, able to communicate at all levels and engender trust and hope in people when all seemed lost. Then there was John. Though she had known him for years, she suspected she hadn't even scratched the surface with him. Certainly, he was loyal and protective, with a wicked sense of humour that was born out by the constant glint in his eye, but there were moments - moments when he thought no one was watching him - when his eyes would lose that customary sparkle and he would seem weighed down with concerns he simply couldn't share. The torture at Kolya's hands only seemed to have exacerbated that withdrawal; she feared what this new encounter with the Wraith would do to him.

Glancing at her watch, she saw they were still thirty-two hours away from the planet. How much more would he have to endure before they could pull him to safety?

oooOOOooo

The sensation of water hitting his sandblasted throat caused John to cough and splutter himself back to consciousness. He didn't remember passing out, but he didn't remember making it back to his cell either, so figured it had happened somewhere en-route.

He got the feeling someone was cradling his head - had he been rescued?

That thought made his eyes snap open, only to find Orial gazing down at him from the gloom of their captivity. As he immediately tried to put space between them, she restrained him with ease.

'Do not try to move. You are too weak.'

He still struggled, and in the end she moved herself aside, laying his head gently on the floor. Every cell in his body ached; even the thought of moving made him feel sick. Whether he wanted to get up or not, it looked like he lad little choice but to stay right where he was. 'How long have I been out?' he croaked.

His cellmate looked at her watch. 'A little under four of your Earth hours.'

'Guess I screwed up their machines pretty good,' he said with a slight smirk, regretting it as even his jaw muscles ached at the movement.

'What happened?' she asked.

He lifted his head a little way off the floor to test the pain levels. They were still too high to warrant moving at this point. 'What do you care, Orial?'

She looked surprised to hear him speak her name. 'You know what I am called?'

'Yeah, the queen and I had a cosy chat, just before I broke her nose.'

'Then that is why she punished you,' she sighed. 'I should clean that wound again.'

She knelt beside him, tipping some of the contents of a cup of water onto a strip of material she'd torn from her jacket, and reaching out to dab at his still oozing chest wound.

'No, what you should do is keep your hands to yourself,' he told her, batting her attempts to help away. He winced as pain shot through his bicep and shoulder.

'They brought me some food and water…not much, but I saved some for you,' she said, looking embarrassed by his rejection of her assistance.

'Yeah? You shouldn't have bothered. I couldn't eat right now even if I wanted to.' Digging deep, he forced himself into a sitting position and shuffled back to lean against the wall. It hurt like hell, but he didn't feel quite so vulnerable sitting up like that.

'You are in pain?'

'That's a dumb question,' he grunted.

She caught hold of his hand and pushed the rag into it. 'Hold this to your wound. It will ease the discomfort a little.'

'That's the least of it,' he muttered, but he did as she suggested. The cold water did cool the burning sensation around the injury, but he still felt like he'd jumped out of an aeroplane at 10,000 feet without a parachute.

He closed his eyes and waited for the wave of nausea his movement had caused to pass. When he opened them again, Orial was beside him, her expression a portrait of concern.

'Don't go thinking this makes us friends,' he warned her. 'You have a hell of a lot of ground to make up before that happens.'

'Does it hurt far more than last time?' she asked, ignoring his snipe, as her eyes wandered down to the cloth he clutched over the feeding mark.

'Well, it didn't hurt at all after that Wraith fixed me up last time, so yeah, it does.'

'She withholds the enzyme.'

'Huh?'

'When that other Wraith restored you, it was an act of camaraderie. He must have released some of his enzyme into your body to help you heal. When the intention is punishment, they can withhold the enzyme, releasing only enough to help you survive, but not recover quickly.'

He nodded, too tired to keep his eyes open. Instead, he leaned his head back against the wall and hoped the world would stop tilting soon.

'It does get easier…eventually,' he heard Orial say. 'You learn to let go…to stop fighting against them…and when you can detach yourself and let go of what makes you 'you', you become almost numb to her tortures.'

There was an emptiness in her tone he'd never heard before, and it touched him more than he'd expected it to. But he couldn't let go of his anger, he couldn't let go of his fight. He needed both of those things to face down the Wraith and make them react the way he needed them to. But right now, he felt like slipping into unconsciousness again.

'You said you didn't understand how I infiltrated your base,' Orial said, as if trying to help him focus.

He forced his eyes open a fraction. 'No, I don't. But right at this second, I couldn't give a damn, either.'

'There was a real Dr Travis. It wasn't always me.'

Interest piqued, he decided this was something he wanted to hear after all. 'Go on.'

'The Wraith have been watching Atlantis for some time. Centuries ago, they planted sensors on the sunken city so that when the Lanteans returned they would know. When the city rose, they began to monitor trips made out of the city via the Stargate, observing your people. It soon became clear to them that not everyone in the city was a Lantean, but that you most certainly were. Once they decided who they needed, they picked someone inconspicuous to replace. Dr Travis…the botanist. Then I was chosen; I was the member of my race who resembled her the most so needed the least alteration to make me her double. Then, they replaced her with me, and I have been watching you ever since, waiting for the ideal time to lure you away from your base.'

It suddenly dawned on Sheppard the exact moment she was talking about. 'The attack on her team when she was on H5S- 782,' he gasped. 'That's when they planted you. I helped you back to the jumper.'

Orial nodded. 'In a first sweep by the Wraith craft, Dr Travis was removed, then, on the second pass, I was put in her place.'

'That explains why you were so shaken up. So, what happened to Dr Travis…no, actually. Don't answer that. It was a pretty redundant question.'

'It took a long time to get up the courage to see this through,' she confided. 'The people of Atlantis weren't what I was expecting to find at all.'

'What were you expecting?'

She shrugged. 'The Wraith had convinced us the Lanteans were heartless, and we had no reason to believe otherwise. What I saw on Atlantis, what I saw of you, showed me something quite different.'

'Not enough to get you to change your plans,' he pointed out.

'Believe me, I thought long and hard about it. Atlantis made me feel safe for the first time in my life. It would have been so easy to stay and enjoy the sanctuary it provided, but I couldn't leave my people to suffer the consequences of my failure to fulfil the Wraith queen's plan.'

'I guess I can't hold that against you...' he muttered, too exhausted to be angry with her anymore.

Without asking, she tipped her cup of water to his lips again. This time he didn't complain; he was too weak and too thirsty not to accept the gesture. He hated being like this and wanted to know how long it would last. But he didn't dare ask Orial; if she told him this feeling lasted for days it would only deflate him and he had to stay strong. He decided to give it half and hour and then he was going to have to seriously pull himself together, whether he liked it or not.

Unfortunately, the Wraith had other ideas. Just as his eyes fell shut and he began to drift away into slumber, the door of the cell retracted and in walked the lead male Wraith with six subordinates. Sheppard gaped at the bunch, unable to think of a single witty remark about the fact there were so many of them this time - and there had to be tons of good things to say if his head wasn't so messed up. C'mon, John. Don't show 'em you're scared, he urged himself, but as the lead male stood over him and let our a vicious hiss, his heart let him down and skipped a panicked beat.

His eyes wandered down to the stunner the Wraith held in his hand, and then up to the larger stunners carried by the guards patiently waiting for instruction.

'The queen wishes to speak with you again,' he rasped, following it with a broad grin that turned Sheppard's blood to ice. Beside him, he sensed rather than saw Orial shuffling away from him, putting some distance between them. 'Will you come quietly?'

'Told you before; I'm no so good at the whole quiet thing,' he quipped.

The shot from the stunner gave him a brief relief from the agony his body already endured.

By the time he was thrown face down on the grubby floor in the laboratory, the numbing effect of the stun was already beginning to wear off. Not that a stunning was pain-free; it hurt like hell, but in a milder massive-electric-shock kind of way that he could ride…once he came round. Now the bone deep aches were returning, yet despite that he struggled to his feet.

The queen was standing some distance away, arms folded over her chest as she regarded him. He stared back at her, wondering how long it would be before his legs gave up on him.

Slowly, she sauntered toward him. Kneel.

The unspoken instruction echoed inside his throbbing head, and his knees thudded onto the floor. Thank God, he thought, they were headed that way anyway.

'We require information from you,' she hissed, stroking his cheek as they always had to. 'Once we have perfected out experiments, we need to know the best source of information on Lantean technologies and planets rich with human life.'

'I bet you do,' he grunted, feeling her dipping into his mind as she spoke to him. Determined to keep her from finding anything vital, he imagined up a brick wall in there, blocking her out.

'You are still resisting,' she purred, dragging her nails down his neck toward the feeding mark she'd left on him. 'I see your punishment wasn't enough.'

'I don't know; as punishments go it was pretty impressive, but the whole saving me at the end kind of takes the edge off things.' Tremors set in throughout his body caused by the fight going on in his mind. He had to keep her out. He wasn't going to give her anything she could use against them - he wouldn't let his people down.

'You still do not fear me?' she asked, her eyes searching his face for signs of the true answer.

'Well, yeah, you have the whole space vampire thing going for you, which is pretty creepy, but like I said, if I know you're just going to reset me back to normal at the end of it all, what's to worry about?'

'There is much for you to worry about,' she assured him. 'You have no idea of the degrees of pain I can put you through to get the answers that I need.'

He gave her a grim smile. 'I think I have some.'

Beyond her, he noticed other more senior ranking males working on the laboratory unit. He wasn't an expert on these things, especially not where Wraith tech was involved, but it looked to him like they were finalising repairs and running through their programmes. He'd seen it done on Atlantis enough times when things failed, as they often did. That's what you got when you tried to combine twenty-first century technology with Ancient machinery that had stood dormant for ten thousand years. A quick reboot rarely did the trick.

'We have heard that there are ancient repositories of information spread about this galaxy and others. Do you know there locations?'

In his mind, Sheppard stood behind the brick wall he'd built, sheltering himself and his thoughts from her. 'Nope, sorry. Haven't come across one of those,' he answered honestly.

The queen leaned in close, watching him, and the closer she got, the more his head hurt. It would be so easy to give in to her, to let her have some small piece of information that might not do too much harm, but he knew if he gave an inch, she wouldn't stop probing him for more. He couldn't believe he already felt so ready to give up the struggle. He was definitely going soft. More sparring with Ronon and Teyla, that was what he needed. Pull yourself together, John, he ordered himself.

'But you do know of planets hosting ancient technology. These would be an excellent starting point, wouldn't you agree?'

She bore down on him, stroking his face seductively as she probed deeper into his memories. In his mental image, the cement between the bricks of his walls began to crumble, raining dust down on him.

The queen placed a solid hand on his shoulder and squeezed as she pressed her fingers against his temple. 'I have never felt strength like this. Why do you protect others when you know it will cost you so dearly?'

'Because I already have enough issues in my life; I don't need another guilt trip over this, too.'

'Guilt? I sense this is an emotion that troubles you deeply. But what do you have to be guilty for, Human? Perhaps the fact that you awoke the Wraith almost single-handedly from their hibernation?'

Sheppard pressed his lips together hard as the burning pain in his head increased. She was searching for the exact memory he possessed of that moment, her talons clawing and scraping at his defences until a small hole appeared in the mental wall he'd constructed against her. He tried to pull his physical form free of her, but she held him fast in her grip. She obviously sensed his defences caving in; he had to think of something else to keep her out.

Well, you're my friend

And can you see

Many times we've been out drinking

Many times we've shared our thoughts

In his mind, the queen was through the wall and circling him, frowning and tilting her head as she listened to his thoughts. 'What is this?'

Did you ever, ever notice, the kind of thoughts I got

Well you know I have a love, for everyone I know

And you know I have a drive, for life I won't let go

His imaginary self walked her, an angry smile spreading across his face as he saw her mounting confusion. Her expression passed through varying degrees of uncertainty and annoyance as she listened to his puzzling thoughts, trying to fathom something useful from them.

But sometimes this opposition, comes rising up in me

This terrible imposition, comes blacking through my mind

'Enough of this nonsense,' she screeched, ripping her mind free of his and backing away from him. 'What words are these you fill your mind with?'

He swayed at the force with which she tore her mental and physical presence away from him. 'Not a Johnny Cash fan, huh?' he panted, trying to catch his breath. 'I guess he's an acquired taste, but he might grow on you.'

'You will not do that again!' she raged, pushing her face into his.

'Actually, I've got a lot more where that came from,' he assured her.

She hissed, making him flinch, but then a voice from behind her diverted her attention. 'We are ready for him, my Queen.'

Her face brightened at the news, her glee and cruelty shining in her snake eyes as they bored into him. 'At last, Human, you will now do something that helps our cause.'

Her Wraith assistant stepped forward, carrying a loaded syringe much like the one Orial had used on him aboard her craft. Sheppard wanted to get up and fight, but the feeding and mind probing had sapped any strength he had. As the guards moved forward to restrain him, he put up token resistance even though he knew it was futile. But he couldn't let them think he was weakening; he wouldn't give them the pleasure.

The Wraith jabbed the syringe into his neck and released its contents. Within seconds his head was spinning, his pain reduced, but he didn't pass out as he had hoped to. It seemed the queen wanted him awake for whatever she had in store. As his bones turned to rubber, he felt the guards lifting him and carrying him toward the chair waiting for him beyond the queen. His mind was muddy, clouded, but he still strained against them as felt cold, clammy hands pulling at his clothes, stripping him of his last defences and his dignity before depositing him in the seat where tendrils of Wraith organic tissue extended and wrapped all around him, cocooning him hard against the chair and trapping him in place.'

'Begin collecting the samples,' the queen ordered, standing close by as her assistants fired the unit into activity.

Somewhere inside his head, Sheppard could hear a voice shouting at him to fight, but he had nothing left to give. Anger welled inside him, anger at himself rather than his captors. He'd failed to prevent the Wraith fulfilling their aim; he'd let everyone depending on him down.

The machines began their work, piercing, drilling and slicing at sections of his body in a relentless and systematic process of collecting and storing his Ancient DNA. Even through the haze of the drugs they'd used to prevent his resistance the pain registered, as time after time he was punctured and lacerated in the name of science. Against his wishes, the constant bombardment finally drew a reluctant scream from his compressed lungs.

As unconsciousness eventually wrapped him in her comforting arms, he took the image of the queen's satisfied smile into the stifling blackness.