"Rodney!"

"Major...help me."

"Where are you?" Rodney?"

"...help me..."

"RODNEY!"

"Major...take it easy. It's all right, you're all right now."

John's eyes flew open at the sound of Beckett's brogue. He could feel his heart thudding hard in his chest and he tried to sit up but the restraints held him back. "Goddamit!" John yanked hard but the leather straps held firm. He couldn't hide the desperation he felt as he locked eyes with Beckett. "Did you hear that? Did you hear him?"

Carson was frowning. "Hear who?"

"Rod…" John broke off, realizing that the voice had been inside his head. No one else heard it. He forced himself to relax back against the pillows then took a moment to remember what had happened. John noticed that Heightmeyer was gone, which gave him a sense of relief. He couldn't deal with her psychobabble right now. "I passed out?" he guessed, which freaked him out a bit.

"Something like that," Carson allowed. "It was almost like you had a bit of a seizure."

John did not like the sound of that. He was beginning to feel as if he were losing control of everything. His mind and his body. And add to that the frustration that grated on him, John was beginning to feel scared. He closed his eyes a moment, which allowed him to focus on becoming calm again then he opened them and looked at Beckett. "Do you think I'm crazy?" John wanted to know. He needed to know.

Carson sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know what to think, major. But the fact that you're asking is a sign that you still have your wits about you."

"That's good to know." John shifted to get more comfortable but that was hard to do with the restraints on. "Can you please take these off now? I promise to stay put." It was a bald-faced lie but John felt justified in telling it. Rodney needed him and the only way to find him and help him was to get free. So John would lie like hell now and apologize later.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, major." Carson looked regretful.

John went for the puppy dog eyes, letting Beckett see how sincere he was. "Look...I feel like shit, okay? And this doesn't help." He tugged at his bindings. "I'm tired. And to be honest...I don't think I have the strength to get out of this bed." Unfortunately, he wasn't kidding. John was worn out between the sedatives, lack of food and lack of mobility.

Carson made a face. "Aye...that I believe. I doubt you'd get three steps without collapsing." He contemplated a moment then started undoing the straps. "I'm gonna hold you to your word, laddie. You stay put."

"Where would I go anyway?" John was thrilled when one wrist was freed. As soon as the other was released he started rubbing the abused skin.

"There's nowhere you could go that Weir wouldn't send someone to get you and bring you back here," Carson stated. He grabbed Sheppard's arms and studied his reddened wrists. "I'll put some cream on that for you."

John tugged his arms back. "It's fine...thanks. Can I use the bathroom?" He wasn't asking to get away with anything, he really needed to go. And a shower sounded like a wonderful idea as well. "I'd like to clean up too."

Carson hesitated then nodded. "All right, but I'm hanging out while you shower just in case."

"Fine." John didn't care. He just wanted to get out of the bed and feel clean again. Normal. And this was about the only thing he had any control over at the moment. So he pushed back the covers and slid his legs over the side of the bed. But when he got up the room tilted and he was vaguely aware of strong hands catching him and easing him back down. After a moment the dizziness passed and John gave Beckett a rueful look. "That went well."

"Feel up to trying again or would you rather stay put?" Carson was watching him closely.

John didn't hesitate. He pushed to his feet again and locked his knees. The room didn't tilt. "So far so good." He was grinning. But the smile faded when he realized how far away the bathroom was.

Carson moved to Sheppard's side and wrapped one arm around the slender waist. "I've got you, laddie. Just hang on."

"I can do this!" John realized he was snapping at Beckett, but he hated being so weak.

"I know you can, major," Carson replied. "You could out stubborn a mule and that's a fact." As he spoke he eased them both forward.

John sighed. "Sorry...I'm a bit edgy." In truth he appreciated the help. His muscles felt a bit like Jello.

Carson nodded. "I know. And I know you're feeling weak and that grates at you. Side effect of the sedatives I had to pump into you, and lack of food. After you shower I'm going to send for some soup and you're going to eat. Then take a nap."

"I feel like I'm five years old," John confessed. And not in a good way. They reached the bathroom and he pulled away from Beckett. "I'm good to go."

"I'll be right outside. Just yell if you need me."

John nodded. "Wait...can I get some of my own clothes? I have sweats and a tee shirt that would be more comfortable than these scrubs." If he was going to prowl around Atlantis with Tim, John wanted to blend in as much as possible. Red scrubs were not good camouflage.

Carson shrugged. "I guess that won't hurt. I'll send someone to get them."

"Thanks." That said, John stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He took care of the necessities then stepped into the shower. It was slow going because he really was hampered by his weakness. Halfway through cleaning up he heard the door open and Beckett's voice.

"I've dumped your things on the seat!"

John was relieved. "Thanks!" he shouted back then he heard the door close again. He finished cleaning up, rinsed off then stepped out to dry off. By the time he did that and got dressed he had to sit on the toilet to dry his hair. A hard knock sounded on the door and made John jump.

It was Beckett. "You okay in there?"

"I'm fine." John stood up and only wobbled a little. He made it to the door just as Beckett opened it.

"You're looking mighty pale, major," Carson stated. "Back to bed for you." He didn't give Sheppard a chance to respond, he simply slung his arm around his waist again and basically hauled him back to the other room.

John wouldn't admit it, but it actually felt good to lie down. He let Beckett draw the covers over him and let his eyes drift closed. He would rest for a bit then sneak out in search of Tim.

Carson tapped his arm. When Sheppard's eyes opened, he held out a mug of steaming liquid. "What passes for tomato soup. It's thin and should go down easy enough. Try to drink it all."

"Uh...great. Thanks." John wasn't really hungry but he accepted the mug. He knew he needed to get something in him to get his strength up. Right now he felt fully depleted. So he sipped at the soup, which was almost palatable, and managed to drink most of it before giving up.

"Good enough, major," Carson stated as he took the mug back. "Now get some sleep."

John didn't reply. He was already drifting off.

When John woke up it took him a moment to realize that he hadn't suffered a nightmare, nor was he back in the restraints. The other thing he realized was that the lights were low and the infirmary looked empty. He slid out of bed and made his way over to the nurse's station. He recognized the nurse on duty. Emily. She was working on the laptop so John slid back into the shadows and headed out the other way. Soon he was moving down the corridor into the nearest transporter. He leaned against the wall until the doors slid open, cursing the fact that he still felt so weak. But then he was moving down the corridor and into his room. Once there John shucked his sweatpants and exchanged them for his uniform pants. He then laced on his boots then retrieved his berretta, which he shoved into the back of his pants and covered with his tee shirt. Then he headed out the door in search of Tim. John knew that once Emily realized he was gone, they would come looking for him.

Weir heard the knock on her door and glanced at her alarm clock. It was four a.m. She muttered a few choice words as she crawled out of bed. She made her way to the door and opened it. "Carson...what are you doing here?"

The doctor heaved a sigh. "I hate to tell you this but...Major Sheppard is missing."

"What?" Elizabeth turned around and found her shoes and her jacket. She was wearing sweats and a tee shirt so she didn't bother to change further. "How long has he been gone?"

"Maybe twenty minutes. Emily can't be sure. No longer than thirty."

Elizabeth was worried. "Check on Rodney, make sure he's okay. Then check the major's room. Maybe he just headed there to be more comfortable."

Carson winced. "I already checked there and I've got more bad news."

"Of course you do. What is it?" Elizabeth prompted.

"I found his thigh holster on the bed. Empty."

Elizabeth felt a headache coming on and she rubbed at her forehead. "Okay...let's wake up the troops. We have to find the major ASAP." With that she headed out of the room, with Carson on her heels.

John followed Tim down a long corridor in a section of the city that he knew they had never explored. Knew it because it was a section that was in a level that was underwater, so to speak. They hadn't discovered anything like this in their explorations. John was intrigued by it but didn't ask questions. He knew he was on borrowed time and all that mattered was finding Rodney. Finding Tim had been easy. John had gone to Rodney's lab and the creature had been there, waiting for him. It had taken all of John's will power not to pull his gun and shoot the bastard then and there. Which he still intended to do, after Tim took him to Rodney.

"We're almost there," Tim announced, as he quickened his pace.

"Good." John strove to keep up but it wasn't easy. His legs were starting to feel like Jello again. At one point he stumbled into the wall and was surprised when a hand gripped his arm to steady him. Surprised and horrified, for at Tim's touch, images popped in John's head. A blond woman, covered in blood and screaming his name. John pulled away and the image vanished. He rubbed his head then glared at Tim.

Tim smirked at him then continued on. He led the way through an open archway then stopped before a closed door. "Touch it, major," Tim invited.

John hesitated a moment, but he knew Tim was both taunting him and challenging him and this was all about finding Rodney. So he stepped up to the door and pressed one hand against it. It whooshed open and John stepped inside. The room was dark but lit up as he moved forward, almost guiding his way to the chamber in the back. A small room, enclosed in glass, and lying on a table was McKay. John lurched forward. "Rodney!" Without thinking he pressed his hands to the chamber wall and an opening appeared. John rushed inside, one hand reaching out to touch Rodney on the face. John shuddered because his skin was so pale and so cold. "Rodney?" He whispered.

"He's sleeping," Tim interjected.

"Rodney!" John spoke louder, willing his friend to hear him. He was about to turn away, anger at Tim burning inside him, when John felt Rodney twitch. Without thinking he pressed his other hand on Rodney's chest, over his heart and felt it thud against his palm. Rodney was alive. He turned to glare at Tim and was surprised to see the creature eyeing him with what looked like disbelief.

Tim took a step back. "You are...one of them."

John could almost believe that Tim was afraid of him. Almost. Well he was about to be very afraid. He stepped away from Rodney and pulled out his gun, aiming it at the creature. "Wake him up!" he ordered.

"It is not time yet," Tim replied. He took another step back, easing out of the chamber.

"Make it time!" John followed him, but his hand was shaking and he felt his knees start to buckle. Then he heard it, Rodney's voice in his head, louder this time.

"Help me, John. Help me..."

John fell to his knees, dropping the gun as he pressed both hands to his temples. Then he screamed.