The sun was burning down from the sky, mercilessly driving up the temperature down in the pit. Rodney had already stripped down to his tee-shirt, but still the heat was unbearable. He could already see the skin on his arms reddening and could imagine that his face looked similar. By the end of the day, he was going to have one hell of a sunburn. At least, he didn't smell it any more. The overwhelming foul smell of the shallow water on the bottom of the pit had him nearly gagging at first, but by now, he was so used to the stench that he didn't even smell it anymore. Fortunately the water was standing high enough to have prevented him from suffering any more serious injuries in the fall down what must have been at least 10 feet. The walls of the pit were steep, it would be impossible to climb out without help, Rodney leaned against the wall, trying to keep out of the water as far as possible while not wasting energy. They were overdue for nearly thirty hours now, Atlantis had to be searching for them, Rodney hoped. But he had no illusions. The jungle was thick, and he had no idea how far he was from the Gate. It could be miles. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Who was going to take care of John of he didn't come back? Sure, there were other people on the station, but they had lives and jobs of their own. He on the other hand knew that his life belonged to John. It was his form of absolving his guilt.

John frowned and pulled away when the nurse approached with a hospital gown in her hands. Carson watched him carefully. Now that Elizabeth had given her okay, there was no reason to wait with the procedure. Were the situation not so desperate he would never have suggested such a risky procedure, even now he felt uncomfortable about it. He was pretty certain that Elizabeth was right in her assessment about how John would feel about taking the risk. The man sitting on the bed wasn't aware that he risked permanent brain injury in an untested medical procedure. He hadn't yet had the heart to explain to John what was happening, but he had the feeling that he was already picking up that something was going on. John had been in the infirmary all day, mainly because everyone else had been busy with their daily work. Carson didn't have many patients at the moment and Dr. Woods had agreed to take care of the routine work to give him time to spend the day with John. Despite his best efforts to keep John occupied, he had been restless and agitated all day. Even his favourite games hadn't kept him occupied for long. Carson couldn't hope but wonder whether John missed Rodney. Not for the first time, he wished that Rodney was there now, he might be able to calm John and find the right words to explain to him what was going to happen. But Rodney wasn't there and he could only hope that the search team would return with good news. For now, his focus had to be on other matters. Carson sighed softly and walked over to the bed. He sat down next to John.

„John?" he touched the other man's arm gentle, trying to get his attention.

„I need to talk to you." John looked at him, returning the touch.

„I know you are a bit nervous today. You probably feel fine, but you probably noticed that you can't remember as much." Carson paused and searched for signs of comprehension on Johns face. He wasn't sure whether there was any understanding of his words, but he still had still John's attention. That was good.

„I'm trying to help you with that. I'm not sure it is going to work. But I'm going to try my best I promise." Carson wanted to be honest.

He watched John carefully for any reaction. John pulled his arms around himself, softly rocking himself on the bed. Carson immediately regretted his words. He shouldn't have said anything. He knew far too little about how much John really could understand and process to judge how he would react. Now, he had frightened him. He wanted to avoid having to sedate John.

There were already too many unknowns in the procedure and there was no telling who the interface would react to an unconscious state. He wanted to recreate the conditions of John's previous contact with the device as precisely as possible, so he needed him to be conscious.

Two hours later, John had calmed down significantly. It had taken lots of pats on the back, whispered reassurances that everything was going to be all right and two chocolate bars. John was still restless, but he had stopped rocking back on forth. He still sat on the bed, but was in perpetual motion, he was swinging his legs and his eyes were darting around the infirmary as if he was searching for something or someone. After some prompting he had changed into the scrubs, but he had refused to lie down. Carson had decided to resort to a compromise. Instead of sedating John, he was going to give him a mild tranquilizer, enough to calm him down, but not enough to knock him out. It would be the best for John.

John was quietly settled on the bed, starring lazily at the ceiling while Carson and one of his nurses were busy around him, setting up an IV and rechecking the interface and the device one last time to make sure that everything was in order. Dr. Zelenka was helping Carson was the technical side of the device, he had contributed significantly to developing the treatment and it had been his calculations that had convinced Carson to give it a try.

„Everything is in perfect working order. There seems to be just enough energy left in the device to connect it to John without drawing too much energy from him." Zelenka reassured him after he had run one last check on the alien device.

„I'm pleased to hear that. I can't thank you enough for all your help on this."

„Everyone would have done the same for him." Zelenka nodded in John's direction.

„How is he doing?"

„A bit nervous, I think. He knows that something is going on."

„Can't blame him for being a bit edgy. I can't imagine how I'd be feeling if you were about to hook me up to this sucker." Zelenka said. „Good luck."

It was time. Carson carried the device over from the lab and placed it on a table next to John's bed. John followed his actions with his eyes when he picked up the interface and approached him.

„I can't promise you that it isn't going to hurt, but we are all here for you." Carson reassured John when he saw him twitching slightly.

As soon as the interface made contact with John, it came to life and lit up. Mere seconds later, John's body went rigid, his hands gripping the blanket so forcefully that his knuckles seemed white. His eyes were still wide open, staring at the ceiling without sight. Carson didn't hesitate and swiftly injected a painkiller into John's IV. He waited for it to take effect, but nothing happened. If anything, John seemed to tense up even more, he was starting to tremble and the sound of his strained panting filled the silence.

Checking the monitors, Carson reassured himself that his patient's vitals were just within the acceptable range. For the moment, John wasn't in any danger, no matter how bad it looked. Carson was about to relax a little bit, when a raw, hoarse scream ripped through the tense silence of the infirmary. All other thoughts gone from his mind, Carson raced to John's side and got ready to administer another dose of pain medication. He was injecting the drug when John jumped at him, knocking him and the IV stand down. It happened so fast, Carson hardly knew what was going on. He heard the nurse screaming, felt the pain in his head and back and still dazed, he was yanked to his feet. He caught a look of John's face. It was a mere grimace of his normal expression, his features were contorted in what he could only guess must be terrible pain, his skin was pale and he was sweating. Blood was running down the sides of his face in tiny, but steady trails. For a moment, John started at him, keeping him in a steel grip. Carson tried to lock eyes with him, tried to get him to see who he was, that he was a friend, but the stare on John's face was cold and unseeing. As sudden as John had stopped moving, he started again. Taking by surprise, Carson was slammed against the wall and pinned there. He struggled to get free, but stood no chance against the other man. Not that he lacked strength, but John kept in better shape, and his strength currently seemed amplified to almost non human levels. John removed the vice grip on Carson's arms, but before Carson could move, John's hands were wrapped around his through with a force that he had not thought possible. He couldn't breathe. Panic welled up in him. There was no way he could get John lose, he was going to die. He already felt the desperate need for air. His aimless gaze struck the forgotten alien device perched on the table. Its three crystals were glowing with blinding brightness. That was not supposed to happen. It shouldn't have drawn energy, He had been wrong, Carson realized as he felt the pressure on his starved lungs increase. He didn't fight John. It would only cost him oxygen, and he knew he couldn't win. No. His mind screamed at him, as he started to feel dizzy and the edges of his vision started to blur and grey out. It couldn't end like this. There was noise somewhere back in the room, he tried to focus, but it was all blurry, there were people, the people were shouting. He couldn't hear them properly; it was as if his hearing was not working right, everything kept fading in and out. Just when he thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, the hands disappeared. His legs didn't hold him and he crumpled to the floor. The first breath was an effort and it hurt in his throat and lungs, but he could feel his mind and body come back to life.

Carson was still panting when a gunshot exploded close to him. The disrupting sound made his ears ring. He looked up and an image of horror spread in front of him. The nurse that had been helping him with the treatment, Kylie Morgan, was crouched on the floor a few feet from him, cradling her arm. Blood stained her uniform and was spattered on the floor. A uniformed man was on the floor was well, face down. A bloody, deathly pale Sheppard held a gun in shaking hands, vaguely aiming it in Carson's direction. Without warning, he fired a shot, missing Carson by a good ten inches. Transfixed, Carson stared at the gun, still pointed at him. It was shaking in John's grip, but that didn't make the weapon any less deadly. Carson didn't hear that security guards had arrived in the infirmary, standing in the door, guns pointed at the major. The only thing he could see was the gun and the shaking hand holding it.

„Please, don't shot." he said and it sounded like a whimper. He was scared, for the second time in one day he thought he was going to die. Time slowed down for him as he saw the hand tense around the gun, the muscles readying to pull the trigger. He closed his eyes, not able to bear it any longer. He waited for the explosion, for pain and death, for oblivion, for the next life or for eternal blackness. The explosion came, but he didn't feel the bullet penetrate his body. There was only numbness when the world slipped from his grasp.

Rodney couldn't stand up on his own when the chief of the native village pulled him to his feet. After three days, they had finally pulled him from the foul water of the pit. They had not fed him nor given him anything to drink. Rodney had been forced to relieve himself into the very water he was standing in. He had made very effort to stay on his feet, but eventually low blood sugar, heat and dehydration had caught up with him. At first he had just been glad that he had been pulled out of the water. Anything had to be better than the degrading experience of being stuck in that pit. But now, hours and a seemingly endless trek through the jungle later, he felt like he was about to die. The chief and several young men had dragged him out to a cave full of skeletons. They were talking to him in their language while he was on the ground, grateful that at least he was off his feet now. The thought of surviving the trek back to the village was inconceivable. Probably they were going to kill him here anyways, he thought darkly as he glanced at the bones in the mouth of the cave. The end of the great astrophysicist, not so great explorer and lousy friend, Dr. Rodney MacKay. He didn't deserve better. The memorial they were going to hold for him on Atlantis was going to full of people talking about his achievements, about how he had saved the City. But John wouldn't be speaking there. Nobody would be there to say how a rotten friend he was. He didn't have friends, not friends like John. He had doomed John to a broken life, a shadow of his former existence. He was ready to accept any faith life dealt him.

The chief yelled and one of the younger men poked Rodney and repeated the Chief's words. Rodney didn't care. If they were going to kill him anyways, what did it matter? Suddenly one man was at each of his sides and he was being dragged into the cave. Inside, cooler air and a musty smell greeted him. Once they were out of sight of the cave opening. They dropped him to the ground and swiftly bound his wrist and ankles with rough rope. One of the men said something in an odd sing-song tone of voice, and then both left without turning back. Rodney hadn't understood a word of what the young man had said, but the meaning was clear, Rodney was in that cave to die.

Rodney dreamed. He was back with John. John was laughing; it was a friendly open laugh. Rodney didn't know why John was laughing so he looked around. They were standing in the empty Gateroom. The Stargate in front of them was engaged, the blue puddle shimmering and lighting up their faces. He looked down at himself. He was dressed for a mission, while John was dressed as usual, jeans and sweatshirt. No more uniform.

„Why are you not going through?" John asked him." The team is waiting for you on the other side."

Rodney was taken aback to hear John speak. He had gotten used to John's silent presence.

„I don't want to leave you alone." He said the words without thinking.

John smiled.

„I'm going to be there when you get back. Go, they are waiting for you." John stepped up to Rodney.

„You can't change what happened. Go. I know that you are going to come back." John whispered, giving him a slight shove towards the event horizon. Rodney stepped back, into the open wormhole. The last thing he saw was John's face, his eyes alight and alive.

Rodney woke with a start. The darkness confused him at first, making him think it was night, but the musty smell of the stale air and the hard rock beneath his aching body reminded him that he was in the cave. He shook his aching head, the strange dream still fresh in his mind. John had told him that it was okay to leave, that he should stop worrying about the past. Of course, that was only a jumbled cook-up of his subconscious. Was he just trying to justify his actions? He had promised John never to leave him. But what choice did he have. He didn't want to die on a godforsaken jungle planet, tied up a cave that served as a mass grave for a primitive people.

Rodney rested his head on the cool stone ground. It wasn't comfortable, but the cold rock eased his headache slightly. It wouldn't be long. Dehydration would kill him in the end. There were worse ways go to.

TBC