Ian didn't appear to be hurt. That was good.

Sam rolled River over, noting there was a nasty bruise forming on the blonde's deeply tanned chest. In the center of that bruise was a welt that Sam recognized was probably caused by some kind of dart.

"It looks like he was drugged, Jack."

Ian jerked his attention from Thor at the sound of her voice, and realized for the first time that he wasn't alone.

"Thor, I need you to take care of Shawn."

"Of course, O'Neill."

Ian jerked his eyes from Sam, turning them on Jack O'Neill, and then he looked over again, eyes wide as the little whatever it was actually spoke.

"Holy shit..."

Brooks stumbled to his feet, feeling like he'd just woken up in an episode of the Twilight Zone.

"Ian, it's okay," Sam couldn't miss just how pale the cadet was – and she couldn't blame him. She didn't really have time to reassure him, though, not until she was sure River was all right – and Jack had the same problem, since he was holding Shawn. "He's a friend."

He shook his head, watching as the little whatever it was moved over to stand next to Jack, holding something that was glowing an odd blue color and leaning over to press it against Shawn's head.

"No!"

The cadet lunged forward, certain that it had to be a trick of some sort.

"Jaffer!"

The New Yorker's charge at Thor was stopped abruptly as Jaffer responded to Jack's command and cut off Ian's attack. The black lab didn't use his teeth; he simply jumped at Ian – who didn't have a chance. Unsteady already and still reeling from the side-affects of the knockout drugs, he went down in a heap under the weight of the dog, cracking his chin painfully on the floor of the bridge. Jaffer straddled Ian, using his considerable weight to hold the cadet pinned – but the blow to his chin had pretty much stunned him, anyways. He watched in horror as the little whatever it was touched Shawn with the blue thing and it started glowing.

"No! God Damn it, let me up! Leave him alone!"

Then Sam was there, her hands holding him down, but her voice trying to soothe.

"Ian, watch... it's not hurting him. Jack wouldn't let anything hurt Shawn."

He didn't have any choice, anyways. Pinned by the others, he watched helplessly as the blue device continued to get brighter the longer it was held against Shawn's head. A minute later, he heard a gasp of pain from his roommate, and felt more than heard Sam's sigh of relief above him.

Shawn struggled awake, wondering what was going on. When he opened his eyes he was shocked to find himself being held by Jack, who was looking down at him with an expression of relief mingled with concern.

"What happened?" He asked, wincing around the pain in his head.

"That's what I'd like to know..." Jack brushed his hand against Shawn's forehead for just a moment – a tender touch that he couldn't resist – making sure the boy was truly all right, then he let him go reluctantly, and eased him to the floor and stood up.

Looking over at the pile of Sam, Jaffer and Ian, he didn't really have time to wonder what the hell he was going to do about what the cadet had just seen. There were too many unanswered questions, and far too-

"Hey... what the hell's going on...?"

River was sitting up, one hand rubbing his aching chest, the other bracing himself into a sitting position. Wincing against a headache like none he'd ever felt before – another side-affect of the knockout drugs – he looked at the pile of people sprawled in front of him.

"Ian... what...?"

What the hell was Major O'Neill doing sprawled on Ian? And why was the dog – that was Jaffer, he was sure – doing on them? When had they left the academy and how had he gotten to where ever it was he was? And-

"Shit."

He turned at the voice and saw Colonel O'Neill was there as well. River's first thought was that Ian better not let Jack O'Neill catch him with Major O'Neill like that – that would probably get him his ass kicked – and his second thought was to wonder why no one seemed to be wearing much for clothes. He frowned, wondering if this was just some warped dream he was having, and then the alien stood up from where it had been just out of sight behind Jack, doing something on the floor.

"Holy Christ!"

River lunged to his feet almost in exact imitation of Ian's earlier motion. And like the New Yorker, found that his legs weren't ready to hold him up just yet. He fell backwards, stumbling, but never took his eye off the little gray form.

"Stop!"

River froze at the order, looking from the... alien?... over to Jack O'Neill, who realized that things were completely out of hand now, and that he needed to get it all sorted out.

"Jaffer, let him up."

The black lab moved off Ian – River just realized that he'd been pinning him down – and moved over to stand by Jack, looking at the cadets cheerfully. Jack reached down and helped Shawn to his feet, giving the young man a bit of much needed support. Shawn shook his head, trying to clear it, and winced. While Thor's device had healed the concussion he'd received from his blow to the head, it hadn't healed him completely, and his head was pounding like a drum.

"You two need to calm down for a minute," Jack ordered, looking at River, who was looking once more at the little... alien?... and trying to regain his feet around his own dizziness and headache. He felt like he was going to throw up, and only the fact that he refused to do so in front of his roommates was holding it back.

"What's going on?"

River turned to Ian, who was getting to his feet as well. The dark-haired cadet looked like he felt about as awful as River did, which actually made the Californian feel a little better. And he'd certainly asked the million dollar question.

"What happened?" Jack asked them, looking at Shawn first.

"What happened?" Ian asked, incredulously, looking over at River and then at Shawn and finally down at the little whatever it was that could walk and certainly looked like it was alive to him. "That's a good fucking question..."

"You watch your mouth." Jack ordered.

"Fuck you."

Ian wasn't about to watch his mouth. He wasn't about to do anything. He'd been in his room minding his own fucking business and trying to sleep, then he'd been woken up by some jerk-off bastards toting guns and shit, and if that wasn't bad enough, now he was being attacked by a dog that he'd thought was a good dog – since it belonged to a guy he'd thought was a pretty good guy – only to find out that the guy was in on some kind of fucked-up experiment or something with some kind of walking animatron that was designed to look like aliens. It was all a bunch of bullshit, and he couldn't get out of this nightmare fast enough.

"Where's the door? We're out of here..."