AN: Well, you may be wondering what I'm doing working on this when I haven't finished the other, but it was hounding my mind to no end, wanting to be written, so I'm doing something I didn't want to do, and that's write two fics simultaneously. This is a dark fic, and it will be shorter than Paradigm. I had this one rolling around in my mind since I began Paradigm, and I've been taking notes for it as I wrote the other. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Thanks, TJ, for the beta!

Prologue
A famous philosopher, Renee Descartes, once made a statement that became the Rosetta stone for the science of philosophy. He said, I think, therefore I am. When I studied his essay in college, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly that proved. It seemed vague, and left a lot open to interpretation. By what do we define I? If we believe Freud, then the I, is the id, and the ego, and they reside in constant conflict, allowing our actions to betray our inner desires. If we believe Buddha, then the I could be the sum of an old soul's experiences.

I believed it was somewhere in between. I'm not religious, but when you're facing death, you've got to believe in something. I haven't lived by the Eight Noble Truths, or journeyed to the Wailing Wall, but I've said a few prayers to whoever might be listening in the great big beyond. I don't usually waste a lot of thought about who I am. Pilot, guy. That's about it.

But I'm also a soldier, and I know that a lot of people wouldn't consider a military guy to be capable of deep thoughts, but when you're faced with only yourself as a companion, and trusting that only your deepest thoughts are real, you begin to consider a lot of things you've never had the time to ponder before.

Now, I've lost track of time. I can't recall the days, or weeks, that may have passed. I no longer know if bed I'm lying on is real, or another figment, one that will shift before I blink, and I'll wake somewhere else. If someone had told me that the day would come where I wouldn't know fact from fiction, reality from make-believe, I would have said that they were crazy. The only problem with that, is now I know, I am the one who is insane.

Chapter One

Cracks in Reality

"Major!"

I knew that voice. I was walking down the hall, heading towards a breakfast that I had been dreaming about since I'd landed. I had finished my last trip to the mainland, and the last person I wanted to run into was Elizabeth Weir. You might be wondering why, sure she's attractive, and usually we get along pretty well, but I knew why she wanted me, and I was going to wring that little weasel's neck.

I stopped walking, and turned to face her. "I'm not doing it."

Elizabeth had the grace to appear flustered. "Major, be reasonable "

I cut her off. "No, Doctor Weir," I drawled. "He had no right to go crying to mommy because I told him it would have to wait."

"Actually, you told him, and I quote, a cold day in hell, or when Atlantis freezes over, whichever comes first, end quote."

Okay, so I did. I was a little irritated at the time, and a guy's entitled. I'd spent the night ferrying Athosian's back and forth to the mainland. They were establishing their camp, and we didn't have anyone trained on the Jumper's, yet. It hadn't been that long since we'd caught Steve, and frankly, I was tired. "I may have said that."

She sighed in that way that let me know she was getting equally as tired with me. "John, this is important. We need every piece of equipment that Rodney can get working, especially now with the Wraith out there."

I folded my arms against my chest, and regarded her with a fair amount of defiance. "I'm not the expedition's pet guinea pig."

"Yes, you are."

Well, when she put it that way, I guess I was. The whole reason I was here was because of that damn gene. What are the odds? I still wonder at the twist of fate that had me sit in that chair. I hadn't meant to, but I was curious, always curious. This line of argument wasn't going to work. "Look, Doctor, I need a break." I tried for the sympathy vote. "I've been up all night, and I was heading for breakfast when he intercepted me. Let me eat, and get some sleep, and then I'll be there with bells on."

The sympathy line seemed to work because I could see that maternal instinct rolling in like a thunderstorm across her features. I knew I looked like hell. I hadn't eaten since dinner the night before, and night flying made me feel all racoonish. "Fine Major, see that you do."

"I promise."

She seemed to size me up, once more for good measure, then headed back the way she had came, calling over her shoulder, "Good luck."

Wiseass. Good luck wasn't what I needed. I needed some kind of protective equipment, like that personal shield McKay had found. Half the stuff they asked me to try shocked me or knocked me out or threw me across the room. My bruises had bruises, and I'd threatened mutiny the last time I'd woken up in the infirmary. Who knew being almost Ancient was dangerous to your health?

I sauntered into McKay's lab five hours later. He was where I'd left him. "How do you do that?"

He looked up, and judging by the irritated expression, I was in for it. "Do what?" he snapped.

"Work on the same thing for five hours straight?" I said. It wasn't that I couldn't work on something that long, but it didn't happen often, and McKay was always doing it. He'd start on a project, and his normally frantic mind would become focused. You could barely pull him away. He reminded me of a pit bull when their jaw latches on, and you can never get them to let go.

"It's called attention span, Major, something you seem to be lacking."

Touché, the physicist had a bite this evening. It might be because I'd kept him waiting. He'd get over it. "It's not an attention span, it's called a life. Get one," I snapped right back at him. When it came to exchanging words, McKay and I gave the Webster dictionary a workout.

"Are you going to do what I need, or stand around and throw juvenile insults?"

I was kind of partial to the insults, but whatever. "What do you want me to do?"

"Pull out your hair." McKay said, and pointed at my head.

I stared at him. That wasn't normal for McKay. "What?"

McKay rolled his eyes at me, not very subtle. "I said, go over there," and this time he was pointing to an area behind me.

I shook my head, thinking maybe I needed more sleep than I had gotten. I saw a platform behind me, looked almost like a transporter pad out of Star Trek. "Just stand on that?"

McKay nodded absently, his attention already pulled off me, and back on the controls for the device. I hesitated before stepping on the lighted circle. "What exactly does this do?" Rodney's head remained down. Whatever he was working on was getting his full attention, and I needed a piece of that. "McKay, what does it do?" I tried again.

He finally looked me, and it was a look my mom gave me when I asked why the sky was blue, and the grass was green. "Major, if I knew what it did, I wouldn't need you."

Fair enough. "It's not going to hurt, is it?" That was my main concern at this point.

"It might."

And this was supposed to reassure me? "You're not helping," I said.

He was ignoring me again, and his head bent over some console filled with buttons. He pushed one, and I felt a spark slice through my body. "Hey!"

McKay looked up. "Did it do anything?"

"It shocked me," I said angrily, and started to step off the pad.

"Don't move!" he shouted, holding a hand out. "It gave your body an electrical charge, or at least, I think it did."

He was busy tapping away, and reading Ancient text scrolling by under his nose. I hesitantly put my foot back down. The thing of it is I trusted McKay. If he told me to stay, I'd stay. If he told me to jump, I'd jump. I might bitch about it, and say a few things I shouldn't, but I'd do it.

"If I try this, maybe," McKay muttered to himself.

I thought about reminding him I was still in the room, stuck on the pad, waiting. He raised his eyes, and they bored into me. I narrowed mine, confused, because he seemed different. "McKay…"

I saw him twist a knob, and found myself locked in place. My knees, elbows, neck, every single joint and muscle in my body froze, and an unbelievable pain soared over my consciousness. "Stop!" I managed to shout. Rodney was still looking at me, and his eyes remained steady, his features unaffected by my plight, and to my horror I saw him deliberately twist the dial a notch higher. It was the last thing I saw before the growing darkness took over.