Parwan Detention Facility

Near Bagram Air base

Afghanistan.

In a Limbo

Voices...

There were a lot of them…each kept drifting in and out of the numb haze he had retreated into. He had learned to ignore them a long time ago. They wanted things from him, wanted to know things. They wanted him to do things, and in return things were done to him. And when he refused to get with their program, they started hurting him.

But then again, it wasn't the first time he had been in the same situation. It might well be the last though; he had a feeling that they may have taken things past the point of no return awhile back. He wasn't really sure, but he'd guess it was around about the time the constant agony that was his close companion born out of the various parts of his abused body like a gestalt, had gone silent. The ominous kind of silence, not the soothing kind.

His body had given up passing any kind of independent feedback on the dirty and long list of lacerations, breaks, dislocations, fractures, burns, cuts, tears and fuck knew what else. It had choked it all up into a fiery ball of unending misery and was now just waiting in a kind of fugue state for his brain to catch the hell up and start shutting the hell down. He was way past containing any reasonable resemblance of life now; he just had to get the message to his brain that was still firing synapses and the heart that was still valiantly beating away for him.

Well, let those assholes keep coming, he was a stubborn bastard anyway, was born that way; no reason to change now just because he was on his way to his grand finale. They were probably huddling together somewhere, plotting away at how to get him to cooperate. Or maybe they were confused by the last couple of fuck yous he had thrown at them in all the languages he was conversant in, before he lost the strength to do even that.

Besides it was peaceful here; just his own musings to keep him company until whatever that came after. If only these incessant yet incomprehensible voices would just go away… It wasn't too much to ask for, in the last couple of minutes he had on this earthly plane now, was it?

But it turned out the universe was a touch too cruel to grant John his last wish after all. It got worse. Touches joined the voices. They were everywhere. Touching, prodding and poking; trying to move him. The body parts that had begun to shut down were coming back online with a vengeance, releasing all the backlogged misery-related complaints at him in droves, in response to this new development.

He must've made a complaint of his own; a sound of some kind, because for a blessed second all touches and voices disappeared. But before he could revel in it, they all returned.

They were much gentler this time though; only a feathers touch on his shoulder and a soft murmur.

"Major Sheppard, son, we need to get you out of here. It's all right now, it's ok. We've got you."

John latched onto the commanding tone of the voice more than anything else. It had the confidence and the cadence of an officer that came from experience in the field of battle and war, not days spent behind a desk. It was reassuring that he was at least in the hands of someone who knew what they were doing. He lost the urgent calls the officer made into his comms, citing John's fast declining condition and the request for the emergency exfil. He also missed the hurried commands the mystery military man threw out at his team. They were to apprehend and round up the stragglers who had taken off running soon after the military unit had appeared and when it became obvious the fight was one-sided. He didn't hear the officer issuing last set of instructions to his second in command to secure the whole facility either.

He definitely did not see the white light and the mild buzz that enveloped the capable-sounding officer and himself, which whisked them off the floor of hell that was John's home for the past five days and deposited them in a very very cold place.

Infirmary

Terra Atlantus - Ancient Defense Outpost

Antarctica

The moment his base atoms reassembled into being inside the Outpost, John felt something in him settle in a way that he never even knew he needed. It was soothing and welcoming in a way that left him breathless. He took a second to wonder how he even went through his whole life until now without this vital and vibrant part of him that slotted into his mind like homecoming. Like it had been waiting for him too and like it belonged with him. He felt a warm bemusement and assurance wrapping around him like a blanket and he surrendered to the blackness that did not seem so endless and frightening now, with a soft sigh.

….

The scene surrounding John Sheppard was in direct contrast to his inner serenity. Medical staff around him was busy prepping him for the transfer to a stasis pod that was getting increasingly insistent about getting its charge deposited in it.

"Oh for the love of… get that man inside the pod already Carson, before this whole forsaken place decide to implode on all of us." Said Rodney impatiently from the corner he had been pushed into by one of the nurses. Seven kinds of error messages were chirping for attention on his PDA alone and he was pretty sure the chair had gone dormant already, diverting its own power to the cause as well.

"Aye, I'm going to get the lad's baseline quickly Rodney, in case this thing doesn't work as predicted. He is in bad shape so you had better hope this Outpost knows what its bloody doing." Came the acerbic reply from the Scottish doctor.

True to his word the doctor did not delay further and they had the prone body of one John Sheppard, Air Force Major, gently placed inside the pod that was waiting impatiently with its door slid open. It was emitting a soft hum and a warm room temperature setting complete with an interior filled with a soft blue gel like substance not unlike the pads of the weapons chair.

The whole apparatus had been hiding in the depths of the Outpost since the incident with General O'Neill. The scientists and the doctors had given up long ago trying to coax the stasis pod out of its shell for further study.

Once it had its charge, the stasis pod closed up and the nearest monitor woke up. It had some sort of medical jargon that made sense to Carson, judging by the relieved sigh that escaped him. The doctor wasted no time organizing his minions to monitor the screen and keep vigil. It was obvious the man was a skeptic when it came to trusting his patients to 10,000 year old medical equipment with agendas.

Rodney wondered what other juicy gadgets would be offered up to him on plates complete with light shows once the flyboy was fixed up enough to be useful. "Hmm might have to call dibs on him to get him on the chair, maybe work up a schedule. I will need to get him to focus on all those locked archives, power resource managements… hmm…if these military types ever release him to me that is. Huh…" He let his mind wander while he entered the thoughts and plans into his PDA that this new addition would bring.

Admin Building

Parwan Detention Facility

Near Bagram Air base

Afghanistan.

For one SEAL team platoon leader Lieutenant Steven J. McGarrett, the scene he found himself in was surreal. He was surrounded by Marines clad in black and grey, rather than standard issue uniforms. And except for one hard ass Colonel, none of them were showing any insignia. It reeked of black ops and he should know.

Whoever they were, these Marines were scarily competent as they had the whole detaining facility and the adjoining admin block in complete lock-down in mere minutes. The professional soldier in him admired the swift, no-nonsense handling of the offenders. The military and non-military personnel, who had imprisoned Sheppard, were zip tied and herded in to the conference room area in the admin building.

The Marine who identified himself as Sergeant Bates seemed mildly annoyed when inquired; but did let Steve know that they would be questioned by one of the higher ups shortly. He also politely requested that Steve should remain here to give a statement on his part of this cock up. Bates then posted a guard near the small office Steve had been escorted into, to make sure that he did as asked. Steve was just grateful that he wasn't being tied and thrown in with the others; the Sergeant certainly looked like he wanted to.

Not that he could blame him, Steve thought to himself tiredly. He had briefly seen Sheppard when they had broken into the holding cell. He wished he hadn't. Every time he closed his eyes he could see the half naked and broken body of John lying on the cold floor in a pool of blood. The image was burned into his retinas and the soft whimper that escaped him when the Marine medic checked him was ringing in his ears.

…..

When he and his team apprehended John and brought him here, Steve was confident he was doing the right thing. He'd had to listen to someone he knew, a good friend, die over a radio frequency. Freddie's last halting words were how the reckless zoomie had left them all to die, that cowardly bastard; and then a burst of an explosion had ended the tenuous connection Steve had to his friend. And when they had finally caught up to the said zoomie, he was covered in dirt, grime and blood and was wandering towards the downed helicopter in a daze. He had been silent throughout his apprehension, and the accusations Steve hurled at him had fallen on deaf and unresponsive ears. His team hadn't been gentle hauling Sheppard into the Humvee and they had brought him directly here to hand him over to the Parwans' CO for detention.

Then they had returned to their own naval complex on the other side of the Bagram base. Steve had been summoned by his CO, Commander Joe White, for a debrief where he had given a succinct account of the day's events. Joe White was not very happy about the fact that Steve had diverted from his objective, which was to keep observing the weapons supply convoy they had been tracking for days and had blundered into a downed black helicopter site, but he had understood. Freddie Hart was a SEAL no matter what or where and had needed help; Steve had responded.

Five days after that, Colonel Marshall Sumner, leading the band of black clad Marines had shown up out of nowhere and demanded to see Major Sheppard. He had given absolutely zero information about why he was looking for Sheppard. And whatever he had said to Commander White had him caving in to the Colonel's demands alarmingly quickly. Steve had been promptly ordered to take the Colonel and his team to the detention facility.

Instead of finding the Major sitting in a cell waiting to be processed back to the States, they had found him tortured and half dead in a pit. This made no sense to Steve. This was not what they did to their own soldiers. There was something else going on and it was connected to the downed helicopters and this classified band of Marines, and Sheppard had gone and got himself tangled in the middle of it.

….

Steve just sat there on a rickety chair with his head bowed down and prayed that they had got to Sheppard on time. He didn't know if he could forgive himself if Sheppard died. He had hand delivered him to these wackos in the first place and the guilt was already eating away at him.

He didn't know how long he sat there like that when the Colonel entered the office. Steve stood to attention automatically and the Colonel waved him down with a flick of a wrist. His feelings must have somehow shown through the neutral mask he wore when facing superior officers; because the Colonel took a seat opposite the small desk with a sigh and opened the dialog with an update.

"Well, the Major's been transported to a medical facility and he is getting the best care there is. So hopefully he will pull through. He was still alive when I left him."

So many questions about how, where and why bubbled up in Steve's mind; but he could only respond in one way to that.

"Thank you Sir."

"So why don't you tell me what happened Lieutenant, from the beginning. Start with how you got to the crash site and then Sheppard? Tell me everything you saw, heard and did. As I understand it, your team was tracking a weapons convoy to the north about 15 klicks away from the site, correct?"

"Yes sir. The forward element of my team was on foot along the road a couple of klicks ahead and I was in the transport at the back giving a status update to my base CO. Then the SOS came through on one of our private team channels and I responded. Freddie-ah the SEAL Chief Petty Officer Hart that is-was on the line requesting immediate backup and possible exfil. He gave me the coordinates to his position when I answered his call. He described the crash and that he had four more with him, two civilians and one critically wounded SEAL. He then also said that another chopper just landed there from the Air Force, it was Sheppard and one crew. And instead of evacuating them, Sheppard armed himself and ran off leaving his crew behind with Freddie and his group. So I took four of my team with me and drove off towards the crash site and left my 2IC to contact the base."

"And then what?"

"We got to the site within half an hour but it was too late," Said Steve flatly.

No matter how guilty he felt about what had happened to Sheppard, he still felt angry at the fact that the zoomie had taken off on a wild goose chase instead of evacuating the hell out of there. He couldn't think of a reason for that crazy stunt. Only that they'd all be alive if Sheppard hadn't done it.

"The enemy had already gotten to them when we arrived - a targeted hit from a somewhat advanced RPG from what we could tell; both the choppers had exploded and were on fire. We could see the five bodies and we couldn't find any survivors in the vicinity," Steve continued in the same flat tone.

"Then we started looking for Sheppard and we found him on his way back to the site. He was somewhat unresponsive. And then we apprehended him and brought him back to base."

Colonel Marshall Sumner just stared at him for a moment longer.

"Did you know him before? Sheppard I mean? Did your Petty Officer know him?"

Steve was thrown off guard by the comment. He didn't know how the shrewd Colonel had found that bit of information. But he knew he had to come clean on the topic.

"Uh… Yeah. We knew each other from previous missions. Sheppard flew our teams from time to time and did CSAR for us a couple of times as well. And Hart was on my team during some of those missions. That's how we got to know each other and we all became good friends."

He and Sheppard had become a bit more than friends whenever they'd crossed each other's paths, and it had been on the verge of becoming something more. Steve thought the Colonel did not need to know that particular tidbit.

The Colonel nodded to himself once as if that had clarified something for him and he'd decided to let Steve in on the other side of the story.

"The thing is Lieutenant, the chopper that your fellow SEALS and the civilians were in was supposed to be on total comms blackout due to the nature of the cargo they were transporting. They had a self-destruct directive on everything including themselves in case of capture by the enemy. They all had to volunteer and sign on this before undertaking the mission. They weren't even supposed to be on this side of the planet for this run."

The Colonel sighed to himself tiredly and Steve felt his mind boggle at that little revelation. What in the hell was going on here? This was the first time in his career that he heard of any mission directive quite like that!

"I can't give you any more details on that mission than that, but that is how my base caught the wind of this cock up- we tracked the origin of the appearance and the subsequent attack on that Black Hawk from our side. It wasn't any RPG you would know of Lieutenant and believe me when I tell you that there was nothing you could have done to save your fellow SEALS from that. The moment that call went up on an open channel they were dead. That was how they were targeted. I am sorry for your loss."

His voice softened then when he added, as if he knew what had been going through Steve's mind.

"And Sheppard couldn't have saved them either, Steven. He couldn't have done anything even if he tried. He was under a completely different and inescapable imperative by then and he did save a lot of lives by doing what he did that day."

And with that veiled and mysterious comment the Colonel got up, patted him on the shoulder and left the small office; most probably on his way to interrogate the others. Steve had a feeling that the Colonel somehow wouldn't be as reasonable with them.

On his way out of the admin building, Steve had a moment to actually think about what it meant if he believed the Marine Colonel; which he realized he did. Even though what the man said hadn't made any sense to Steve, he felt the Colonel had been honest. It meant that Freddie had called upon his own death and destruction along with his fellow team members and civilians. And the guilt over what happened to Sheppard came back on full force, almost doubling him over.