A/N: Reviews for the last chapter came fast. You really do like it! I shall try to not disappoint. I hope you like this chapter. Lots of Sheppard.

Ch. 3

Oh What Bright Eyes you Have

Pain. Pretty much the story of Sheppard's life. He was a soldier, paid to run head-on into dangerous situations, so it was only reasonable that pain came with the territory. Still, it wasn't anything one got used to. Tolerated out of necessity, yes, since pain insisted on being the biggest distraction it could be. But to get used to it? Normally that indicated a major flaw in one's own mentality. A massive flaw if one came to actually enjoy the pain. Now that was messed up.

John was definitely – thankfully – not to that point of mental deterioration. In fact, he wasn't even to the point where he could push the distraction that was pain to the back of his mind for later dealings. The pain he felt now was a body-consuming torrent of agony, brought to life with the slightest movement. There was no possible, sane way he could ignore what he was feeling.

Therefore, his occasional gasps and whimpers of pain were justified. It was hard to maintain a brave facade when he could feel his ribs grating together.

The pain was the only thing he was aware of, say for distant sounds and strange sensations of movement that reignited the agony like water spilling from a busted dam. Sometimes, to his shock, he became aware of something prying his jaws apart. Following that came a terrible, bitter liquid that burned down his throat, making him gag and writhe, only to pass out because of the pain. Yet, when he regained partial consciousness, it would always be to a numbed body free of the torrent. He could still feel his ribs grate, though.

He never became fully aware of anything. He was swimming in darkness as though he had gone blind, and sometimes panicked, thinking that he was in fact blind. Then his eyelids would peel themselves apart, just enough to allow a thin sliver of light to peek through, and calm his hammering heart. After that, he would drift back into the darkness, lulled into lethargy by distant sounds that reminded him – oddly enough – of dolphins.

Atlantis has dolphins? Or maybe something dolphin like. But that couldn't be right. They had yet to encounter any sea creatures say for a few small fish and something that resembled a leg-less otter. Those were rather cute, but horribly shy.

When the lethargy passed, though never enough for him to fully awake, Sheppard strained his ears to catch the distinct accent that could only be Beckett, or the rapid-fire monologue that was McKay. The problem was, none of the sounds he heard even remotely resembled human speech. And as his sluggish brain processed this, he also realized that there were a few other factors missing. No horrid sensation of choking because he had a tube down his throat, or the softness of a medical bed beneath his body, or even an oxygen mask covering his face.

With these first realizations, others soon followed. There were strange smells, something metallic and wet. He felt smooth, leathery material beneath his fingers, and there was something tugging at his ankle.

Sheppard forced himself from the pleasant, numbing darkness in order for his mind to recollect. He remembered being on some weird world, all red dust and not much else. No, wait, there was something else. A great big hole, a chasm. John remembered looking into it, then stepping away, then...

Reality rushed back into John's fogged brain, ripping apart any chance of returning back to a peaceful oblivion.

I fell.

The sensation of falling, of being swallowed into darkness as his body was battered and broken against the rocky wall, consumed him. And with that memory, his heart started pounding faster and faster. His eyes snapped open, and he immediately tried to sit up. He barely pushed himself off the hard ground more than an inch when the pain returned with a vengeance, forcing him back down with a groan. He lay on his back, panting, staring up at a red ceiling flecked with small, colored crystals and stones.

John furrowed his brow.

Okay, that's definitely not right. He was supposed to be looking up at the chasm entrance, with blackness surrounding him like a wall.

John rolled his head slowly to the side. He was in some kind of cave, more like a cavern big enough to hold a blue whale, illuminated by a yellow tinted light that seemed almost like natural light, if slightly dimmer. There were items in this cave – odd skins for the most part, one of which Sheppard was lying on. The skins were brown, scaly, but thick, soft, and warm. On one of the skins was what looked to be a ball – a large ball - stitched together from patches of the same material, plus some sort of braided rope tied to what could only be described as the branch of a yellow tree. There were other objects on the skin, and objects scattered about the cave, all with a purpose unknown to Sheppard.

But they were hand-made, which was good enough for the Major. Better a thinking culture that can use its hands to build rather than one that used hands only to tear meat from bones.

Sheppard tried to take a deep breath, but winced. His chest and sides still hurt, but at least he wasn't being plagued by that grating sensation. When he tried to move his arms, his right arm cramped, causing him to suck in a hissing breath.

Well, won't do that again, he thought. But pain or no pain, he wanted to get up and assess his situation. So, using only one arm, he slowly pushed himself up while simultaneously scooted himself back little by little until his spine touched the uneven wall. With the same cautious monotony, he eased himself back with a few curses and winces until his back was resting as comfortably as possible against the rock.

The first thing Sheppard did was to look down at himself, and almost burst out laughing. He was fully dressed, with bandages of the same skin but tanned thin wrapped around his chest and arm on the outside of his clothes. Apparently, this was a very inhibited society he had stumbled upon, or they had been unable to work the vest and the zipper of his jacket.

Sheppard glanced around to see if any of his saviors were about, but the cave was absolutely empty. It ended at a solid rock face to the right, but continued on to the left at a downward angle where it appeared to open up into another cave or tunnel. The dolphin-like sounds echoed to him from somewhere within that tunnel, but there came no cries or shouts indicative of battle. Whatever the creatures were that made those sounds, they were obviously not dangerous.

John took the opportunity of solitude to fix the natives' attempt at healing him. Both his hands were wrapped tightly in a thin, yellow gauze-like material stained brown by dried blood. He unwrapped the gauze from the hand of his busted arm, and found the gashes in his palms scabbed over and pain free.

" Huh," John said, arching his brow in amazement. He rebound his hand, then began undoing the bandage around his arm, then his chest. With nothing supporting his busted arm, the act was a lot more effort then it should have been. The knot holding the bandage in place wasn't tight, so once undone the bandage fell away. Then came the hard part, removing his vest, jacket, and shirt. It was worse than the bandage. He winced, grimaced, and let out broken cries of agony as he removed the the three layers of clothes. It left him doubled over, panting and trembling with the pain and sudden cold. The cave was freezing, which shouldn't have been a surprise, but he hadn't noticed until now.

John looked down at himself. His body was a mess of dark bruises and scabbing cuts, especially about his ribcage. He was glad he couldn't see his back.

His arm was just as mottled, but thankfully not crooked at the break. John wrapped the bandage back around his arm as tight as was tolerable, then took the second bandage and proceeded to wrap that around himself. The problem was, it needed to be tight, and John's broken arm hurt too much to move and press one end of the bandage against his side.

Pain sapped John's strength fast. He tossed the bandage down in frustration, breathing heavily. He unconsciously sat back against the wall, only to pull away at the cold that bit into his unprotected flesh. He wrapped his arms around himself, pulling his knees up to his chest, shivering harder. He wanted to put his jacket on, but his previous movements had tapped him out, and the pain was taking longer to abate. The only thing he could do now was wait for one of the natives to return and help him out, considering whether or not they were friendly. For all he knew, they had saved him just to keep him alive for questioning, and couldn't care less if he was in pain.

John watched the entrance of the cave expectantly, verging on desperately. The cold actually hurt, soaking into his skin to touch his bones, adding to the pains already in existence.

A high trill pierced the air louder than the distant calls that had kept away the silence. John's heart lurched, and he stiffened, slowing his breaths.

There came scrapes, clacks, and clattering of small stones down the incline. Suddenly, the most unusual head John had ever seen crested over the rise. The creature was bright red, gold, and orange, with a beak-like snout ridged along the top by tiny spikes. Two large, webbed ears flanked either side of its head, and two small horns curled back toward the neck. It also had a thick bronze-colored mane of fur starting from its head and extending down its long, reptillian neck like the shorn mane of a horse. The creature glanced around with wide, oval, phosphorescent eyes, its mouth turned up in what looked to be a smile.

The creature's glowing eyes landed on Sheppard and stayed there. Sheppard's own eyes rounded over, and the breath caught in his throat.

I'm screwed.

The creature moved toward Sheppard, revealing the thing's body. It walked on all fours with its mane continuing along its back, rising and peaking at the shoulder blades then decreasing down to the tip of its long, lizard tail. Yellow-tinted light glinted off of copper bracelets around its wrists, ankles, tail, and various metals attached to braided ropes dangling from the thing's neck.

Sheppard's gaze, however, kept returning to the long curved claws clacking on the rocks as the thing trotted over to him. John's heart beat faster and faster as it neared. The thing was roughly the size of an Asian elephant, and capable of taking Sheppard's head off with a single bight if it wanted to.

Fear consumed Sheppard, sending his mind reeling into panic. Ignoring the pain, he began to scrabble back as the thing slowed and approached as though about to pounce. John fell several times, inflaming the bruises on his back. Suddenly, he was brought to a halt when something pulled against his ankle. He reached down to try and pull it away, feeling more of the soft leather weaved together, forming a kind of bracelet. As he felt along this binding, his hand encountered more of the leather trailing away – a rope. He turned his head, briefly, to see the rope tied to a large stake of yellow wood hammered into a crack in the floor. John had been tethered like an animal.

The creature had slowed even more on its approach, and all John could do was huddle, cringing, against the wall, panting fast and shaking. He searched for a loose rock, a piece of wood, or anything else that could be used as a weapon. When the creature was closer, he tried yanking at the rope again, but both it and the stake held fast.

" He-Hey!" he cried, hoping one of the natives caught the call and came rushing in before their pet decided to make John a chew-toy.

" Hey! Help!" he cried again. The creature stopped, lifting its head on its sinewy neck, twitching its head from side to side like a curious pup. Then it moved closer, and reached out tentatively with its four-fingered paw.

John pulled back, only to fall onto his back, crying out when pain radiated from his spine. Still in the throes of panic, he rolled onto his chest, trying to push himself up with one arm. He was shaking too bad to keep his balance, and fell onto his side with another cry. Pain filled his brain with a gray fog, and his mind wavered on the precipice of consciousness.

Something touched his back, and he cringed, curling into himself and hugging his chest. He heard a strange clicking sound; that dolphin sound again. Something touched his exposed back once more, warm against his spine, and leathery, then it was gone. The cold of the rocky floor numbed some of the pain, and he was able to uncurl himself as the haze lifted. He raised his head to meet the blinking, glowing gaze of the creature now looming over him, still cocking its head. It lifted its paw, reaching out. John flinched and watched the curved claws nervously.

The creature seemed to take notice, and drew its arm back. It began trilling and clicking, then reached out to the side, picking up John's vest with one claw and studying it with child-like wonder. It brought the vest over to John, and set it down at his feet.

The fear that had held John's mind in a death grip was now ebbing away. If this creature intended harm then it should have done so by now, and there was nothing animal about its curiosity as it picked up John's jacket and looked it over as though it were the most amazing thing in the world.

After it had set Sheppard's clothes within reach, it picked up the bandage, only to toss it aside. It squeaked, then bounded over to one of the many skins scattered about the floor, only to return with another strip of the same stuff in its claws. It dropped it at Sheppard's feet, and nudged it closer to him.

John looked from the bandage to the creature. He slowly reached out and snatched the tanned skin. Without taking his eyes from the beast, he pushed himself up into sitting, and tried – once again – to tie the skin around his chest. Again he failed, wincing and cursing.

The creature squeaked and took the bandage from John's hands between two claws. It began to trill and click continuously as though chattering aimlessly away. It reached out with both paws, and John tensed as the thing wrapped the bandage around him, gasping whenever a rib was twinged. The creature paused every time he winced, pulling away, then resuming when John's face visibly relaxed. Soon, the creature had the bandage wrapped and was tying it off delicately using the tips of its claws. John looked up at the creature in amazement, and the creature smiled at him; actually smiled.

John shivered, remembering the cold. He placed his torn shirt back on, then his tattered jacket and finally his ripped vest. The creature made a high-pitched squeal as though realizing something. John smiled nervously and nodded.

" Yeah, clothes," he then looked at the creatures 'jewelery'. " I think you get clothes."

The creature cocked its head about again, trilling. In the cave, echoing off the walls, the sound was almost pleasant - musical.

Suddenly, the creature snapped its head around, lifting its ears some as it caught a noise. Soon, John was able to hear the scrape and clatter of more claws, and the biggest beast John had ever seen came up over the rise. It was like the smaller beast, but without horns and with a shorter mane. It was as big as a brontosaurus, and made the ground vibrate with each step. John's heart started up another rib-shattering pound, and he shrank back, trembling. This thing could crush him like a bug if it stepped on him.

The little creature bounded up to the larger, clicking, squealing, and trilling excitedly. The bigger beast made similar sounds of its own, but much deeper and louder, like whale song.

The little creature pointed at John, and the bigger beast looked at him, then back at the smaller beast. The bigger beast nodded, then approached John, lowering its great head to study him with glowing eyes. John swallowed.

" Good furry dinosaur," he murmured through a tightening throat. The beast sniffed at him, then clicked, nodding. The various metal bits of its many necklaces clinked together. Like the smaller creature, the big one wore various bracelets, as well as some of the brown skins on its back like a cloak, stitched together with pieces of braided rope.

That's when it finally hit John. Had there been any humanoids on this world, they would have shown up by now. The beasts he was looking at – animals at first glance - were not some pet or creature of burden. These were the natives.

SGSGSGSGSG

A/N: Not all intelligent alien life has to be biped and human in form. If you need help imagining the creatures, just think of something that's a cross between a dragon and a monkey (not ape, monkey).