Sheppard had been sitting in the centre of the weapons store room for a few minutes when he realised he'd been on his way to gradually greying out. He shook his head to wake himself up and slowly got to his feet. He swayed for a moment as he got his vertical bearings and then began to grab some weapons. He found his P90. The magazine had been expended but he discovered his spare amongst some of the archaic knives. He grabbed Ronon's gun, a few smaller daggers and a crossbow which he put over his shoulder.

Loaded up and fuelled by adrenaline again he headed for the door and peered out into the darkened hallway.

He wandered the halls in a state of abstraction, feeling his way along the walls in a bid to keep himself alert and upright. The coarseness of the brick and concrete keeping him grounded to reality as his fingers traced over the various grooves.

He was exhausted, both mentally and physically and all he wanted to do was find a corner and curl up into a ball. In some ways that was the benefit of the cells. You could be still and quiet and nobody would bother you if you looked dead enough. He knew he didn't have much time, which meant Ronon and Beckett didn't have time, so he pushed himself onwards with the stubbornness he knew he was equipt with.

When he reached the cells, he examined the large door and knew he'd have to wait until another unfortunate pair were taken off to fight. He stood before it, feeling vulnerable and exposed, and breathed out as he look up. He hadn't noticed before but the ceiling was a series of wooden beams and there was just enough room, if he could get up there, for him to sit and wait. He managed to get a foothold in a section of crooked wall and hefted himself up into a small space, the weapons cumbersome and unhelpful. When he had got up, energy spent, he sat with his legs outstretched on the beam and his back pressed against the wall. He positioned the weapons in his lap and waited.

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

Beckett had been roughly jerked awake from his hard mattress and manhandled out and down to the lower sections of the complex.

"What's going on?" he asked as he was pushed forward through the halls. He turned to look at the Syth who was aggressively walking behind him, "Hey!"

The Syth continued to press him on.

"Has somebody been injured?" he asked.

He was met by silence and for a minute he listened to their footfalls on the concrete.

"Because I don't have my medical bag."

He arrived at a large wooden door, the bolt was pulled back and he was shoved through roughly. He turned to question his treatment as the door slammed in his face and he turned to look at the place he had often looked down on.

He was in the arena.

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

Lorne skilfully manoeuvred the puddle jumper through the skies as Mckay watched the landscape below move by in a blur.

"I hope their still alive," said Mckay as he watched the Jumper, to his eye, narrowly miss a tall tree.

Lorne shot him an antagonized look, "I told you why we couldn't get them yesterday."

"I know," said Mckay holding up a placating hand, "I'm just saying."

"They will be alive," said Teyla as she walked up to the front of the Jumper.

"We're going to crumble the structure at its centre and fly the jumper in," said Lorne, "In stealth." He said before Mckay could interject.

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" asked Teyla.

Lorne threw her a look over his shoulder, "Well if Mckay's calculations are correct there should be enough room."

"And by all accounts it's a large open area."

"What if Ronon-"

"Ronon is still in the same place as he was before. He won't be affected by the blast and if Sheppard and Beckett are with him they shouldn't either." Lorne said concentrating.

"That's if they are all together," said Mckay.

Lorne nodded, "We only have one go at this."

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

Sheppard must have drifted off because he was startled awake by a noise below him. It took him a minute to remember where he was and his precarious balance on the beams. His mind was fuzzy and as he sought clarity through the fog in his mind he peered down and over the edge.

There was a guard and he was taking somebody from the cell. What struck Sheppard as unusual was that he was only taking one person and the other guard was beginning to close the door.

Sheppard knew that it was a case of now or never and he moved into a better position and then dropped down on top of him.

They crumpled to the ground in a heap, the crossbow he had positioned in his lap jostling him in the ribs and eliciting a pained groan from him. He reached around for his knife and dug it into the Syth's throat. The gargled squawk that it emitted echoed through the corridor as Sheppard pushed himself off him. The door was still unbolted and he kicked the Syth aside before pulling it fully open.

He stood in the doorway, scanned the confused faces and then said, "Okay, everyone's getting out of here but-"

He didn't have time to finish; he was knocked down to the ground as bodies piled out of the room in a frantic mixture of excitement and panic. They were scrambling in different directions, shouting impatiently, lost in their own thoughts of freedom.

"No," said Sheppard getting up shakily, "We need to stick together."

Somebody stamped on his foot as they went by and he stepped to the side to let them pass.

A few remained in the cells, either too ill or fearing it was a ruse, but of the standing Ronon was there, arms crossed over his chest, "Took your time," he said walking over to him.

"You said you came in here conscious; think you can find a way out of here?"

Ronon nodded and walked past him. He had taken a few strides when he realised that Sheppard wasn't following him.

He heard a pained gasp and then turned to see that Sheppard had slumped down to the ground. He was pale and sweating, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Get up."

"I just need to sit for a minute," he said breathlessly.

Ronon retrieved some of the weapons off him and then pulled up his t-shirt. He took one look at the stained bandages and then grabbed Sheppard by the back of his vest to haul him up to his feet, "You move or you die."

"We had that fight remember," said Sheppard through a grimace.

"You're going to die if you don't keep moving."

Sheppard looked down at the blood on his stomach and he said, "Oh that, yeah." Ronon helped up into a standing position.

"You okay to do this?" Ronon asking as he surreptitiously peered out of the door.

Sheppard heaved in a deep breath, "Let's get out of here."

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

Lorne positioned the Jumper and started to concentrate on releasing a drone.

Mckay glanced at him nervously, "Don't miss."

"I'll try not to," said Lorne. "Okay I've got the target locked."

There was a moment of strained silence.

"Fire."

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

As Beckett was struck in the face by a well aimed fist he bit down on his tongue and tasted metal. He fell onto his back, vision jarred by the blow, and hands reaching out for his knife.

He got up slowly, took one step forward and then felt the ground below him shake.

He and his opponent looked up at the ceiling and watched as it crumbled above them. He dove to the side as concrete slammed to the ground where he had been standing.

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

Sheppard and Ronon had been running down the gloomy halls when the wall beside them blew out in a rain of debris and hard concrete. Sheppard fell to the ground as a chunk caught him on his temple and Ronon slammed against the wall from the force.

"What the hell was that?" Sheppard called out as he got up to his knees.

Ronon was pushing himself up off the floor and looking at the hole in the wall with narrowed eyes.

They moved to the hole, clearing the dust with their hands as they fought to see through to the arena.

The arena was in chaos. Syth were screaming, there was rubble everywhere and a large crater in the ground.

"Looks like we're getting out of here," said Ronon as he looked up at the caved in ceiling.

Sheppard spotted Beckett lying on the floor, bleeding and injured, his opponent off to the side, dead.

A swirl of dirt picked up and assaulted his face as he knelt down but when he looked up he couldn't see anything.

"What's that?" asked Ronon.

"Sounds familiar," said Sheppard over the hum of increasingly closing engines.

Beckett stirred under his touch and cracked open one eye, "Sheppard?" The confusion which laced his features was apparent and he reached out to touch Sheppard on the shoulder, "You're alive."

Sheppard nodded and helped him to sit, "You okay Doc?"

"Ronon didn't kill you?"

"No," said Sheppard.

"But….I saw him stab you," said Beckett as he struggled to sit up.

Sheppard moved away from a probing hand that went to lift up his t-shirt, "I'm okay." The words were hollow and a blatant lie as he felt the increasing slickness on his skin.

The puddle jumper materialised itself in front of them, just as prisoners streamed out onto the top balcony overlooking the arena. The lights looking down on them ceased and for the first time, Sheppard could look up and see the people above him. The prisoners were fighting the Syth in an extremely vocal and bloody battle.

Sheppard turned his attention back to the Jumper and stood slowly as Lorne and some soldiers appeared from its rear, guns aimed forward.

Mckay ambled out after them, with Teyla at his side, side arm drawn.

"You're alive," Mckay said over the shouting above them.

Sheppard looked at the jumper and then back to Mckay, "You come to rescue us?"

"No, we thought we'd join you here," said Mckay, voice dripping with sarcasm. He looked up at the stalls, "What's going on?"

"Explain later," said Sheppard, "We need to get Beckett onto the Jumper."

Ronon and some of the soldiers each took an arm and a leg and carried him into the jumper.

"You ready to go Sir?" asked Lorne, coming up next to him, and casting his eyes around the room.

A body fell from the stalls and dropped between them. It was Syth and it writhed for a second before being still.

"What is this place?" he asked as he watched the spectacle above.

Sheppard righted himself and pressed his hand firmly against his stomach. He didn't answer the question, finding his mind wandering and listless.

"What about them?" Sheppard asked pointing up at the prisoners.

"We only came here to get you Sir. There wouldn't be room in the Jumper for all of these people."

"We can't just leave them," said Sheppard gripping his side as it flared up. Pulsing and throbbing and reminding him of his need to get it repaired.

"Are you kidding? There must be fifty men up there," said Mckay pointing his weapon in the general direction of the fight above them.

There was a high pitched shriek from above them and another body was thrown down into the arena. It connected with the ground with a sickening thud.

"I'm not leaving if…" Sheppard pitched forward and slipped down to his knees.

Teyla and Mckay were at his side in an instant, preventing him from falling further, "You are not well Colonel. And in no condition to fight. You must get on the Jumper so we can get you back to Atlantis." Teyla looked at Mckay with a concerned expression as Sheppard panted.

"I'm fine," said Sheppard through gritted teeth, "Just give me a minute and I'll be good to go."

Mckay's eyes were drawn down to his exposed midriff. He could see the extent of the wound he was saying was 'fine' and his blood dripping onto the dirt.

"You call that fine?" Mckay said and Lorne's eyes followed his.

"We need to get out of here."
"Not without getting some of these people out," said Sheppard. He pushed Teyla and Mckay off him to stand. The effort failed and he landed on his front.

"We need to get him out of here," he heard Mckay say over the din in his head. He couldn't move, didn't have the energy to get back up and trying to, was only futile. His arms and legs felt like jelly and his vision was very slowly fading on him.

He was rolled onto his back and he could look up at the hole in the ceiling, the light burning his eyes, and he could hear the raucous noise above him. He could see blood spraying out into the air above him, could hear the garbled screams and groans and the flesh on flesh sound of hand to hand combat.

"Get them out," he said his voice a low rasp.

Mckay's face appeared over his and he looked worried.

He tried to speak again, tried to move, and then the pain in his side reached a new overwhelming pinnacle and he watched as everything faded to black.

TBC

Sorry if this all felt rushed but I had just stabbed Sheppard and realistically he wouldn't have much time so things needed to move quickly so he could live and I know you all appreciate an alive Sheppy.