A/N: Thanks for all of the great reviews, I appreciate it. Keep them coming. (ANS4Christ) Of course I missed your reviews. Is my writing incredibly predictable, or do you have some freaky telepathic mind reading thing going on? Once again, you're correct in the direction I'm taking this. I promise I won't be overly horrible to Jonas, but he's so fun to bash, don't you think? Thanks again, and I look forward to everyone's reviews. On with the story.

Chapter 10: Marked

There were far off sounds, familiar voices that couldn't be understood. Jonas was trapped in the world between consciousness and darkness, and he was fighting to awaken. There was a sharp pain setting in his right arm, it felt as though the muscles were being continuously twisted, and the bones constantly rubbing against each other. He gritted his teeth, trying his best to bear the pain, and continued to fight his way to consciousness.

Finally, he felt himself breaking through the barrier that had been holding him under, and he charged to surface. The voices around him became clearer, and he could catch bits and pieces of phrases and words. The pain in his arm was excruciating, but he tried to ignore it, and slowly opened his heavy eyelids.

The first thing he saw was nothing, but blurred images, merging together to make . . . nothing. At least nothing that made sense. Jonas blinked rapidly to clear the images, and it worked. The sights around him softened and finally cleared. He saw Colonel O'Neill watching him anxiously, and the others were doing much the same thing. Johnston looked on in confusion, his jaw working in overtime.

"How is this possible? I do not understand. Your friend should be dead." Johnston said.

"Jonas has a way of beating the odds, and I'm not complaining about it." O'Neill replied as an aside to Johnston.

"How are you feeling, Jonas?" Sam asked gently.

"I've been better." Jonas replied his voice scratchy and painful in his throat. He grimaced slightly and accepted the glass of water that Teal'c held out for him.

"Thanks." Jonas replied, after he'd taken a small drink of the liquid.

"You are most welcome." Teal'c nodded.

Jonas smiled, and turned to face Colonel O'Neill. Jack was slowly making his way toward him.

"Now, how are you feeling?" O'Neill asked simply.

"Tired, but better." Jonas answered.

"Do you remember what happened?" Sam questioned him.

"I'm presuming I was scratched by the walking shadow." Jonas stated.

"You were not only scratched, but you were marked. I do not know how you survived. By all standards, you should be dead." Johnston replied.

"Thanks." Jonas said, allowing a slight amount of sarcasm to enter his voice.

Johnston looked at him in confusion, and Jonas only smiled slightly, shrugging the comment off. Jonas yawned, and felt his eyes getting heavy.

"It is very late, we should go to bed." Johnston said.

"That sounds like a good idea," Jack began.

Jonas nodded, as did all others present.

"C'mon, Jonas, I'll escort you to your room." O'Neill finished.

"Sure." Jonas replied, and carefully sat up, closing his eyes as pain dashed down his arm.

"You okay?" O'Neill questioned.

"My arm hurts a little, but other than that I'm fine." Jonas admitted, looking down to where Sam had cleaned and bandaged his right arm.

"Come on, you'll feel better after you get some rest." O'Neill replied, grabbing Jonas's left hand and helping him to his feet.

Jonas allowed himself to be led up to his room.

"How long was I out?" Jonas asked Jack as they climbed the stairs.

"A little more than three hours, I think. To be truthful, I wasn't really keeping time. You really scared us. It's a good thing you can beat the crap out of the odds, Jonas. I wouldn't want to lose you. You're too important to the team." O'Neill replied, opening the door to Jonas's room.

"Thank you, Colonel. That means a lot." Jonas said.

"It's only the truth, Jonas." O'Neill told him as he watched the young man slip off his boots and turn the blankets of the bed down.

"Still." Jonas replied quietly as he lay down, pulling the blankets up to his chest.

"Good night, Jonas. Get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning." Jack said, and left the room, shutting the door on the way out, before going to his own room.

A few hours later, O'Neill awoke to an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Quietly, he got up and turned to the window. The night outside had fallen thick, and there were no stars and no moon in sight. The only things he could see were dark clouds passing by.

He slowly reached for the bedside lamp and hit the switch. A dull light flooded the darkened room, and O'Neill looked suspiciously around. His gaze once again turned to the window, and he saw that the lock was undone. Cursing in relief under his breath, he was thankful that nothing had happened, and he rushed to the window to lock it. A lone click echoed through the large room, and Jack sighed in gratefulness.

"Wait." He spoke aloud. His mind wandered to Jonas, and he realized that he hadn't checked to see if the young man's window was shut and locked, before he left.

"Damn it!" O'Neill exclaimed, and all but ran to Jonas's room.

As he drew nearer to the door, he found that there was a feeling of dread in his throat. Quickly, he threw the door open and stared in horror at the room before him. The bed sheets were wrinkled and tossed in a ball on the ground, the mattress was overturned, and the bedside table knocked over, the lamp shattering upon impact with the floor. His eyes darted to the sidewall, where the window stood wide open, staring at him blankly, as if taunting him in gay delight.

Jonas was nowhere in sight.