AN: I apologize profusely for the delay, RL has been mean mean mean!

Chapter Seven

"Twenty-seven bottles of beer on the wall, twenty seven bottles of beer, you take one down and pass it around, twenty-seven bottles of beer on the wall -"

This is pointless. The wall you so carefully build in your mind cannot stand. Unit McKay has been cooperative, and because of that, he is not nearly as uncomfortable as you.

Sheppard scowled into the darkness. His stomach growled traitorously into the room, echoing. Raising his voice, he kept singing. "Twenty-six bottles of beer on the wall, twenty-six bottles of beer – gah!"

A sharp shock twisted his words, cutting them off.

When the pain subsided, he straightened his back against the cold metal, still in the position with his body drawn as close together as possible to conserve heat. The constant barrage of messages about Rodney had driven Sheppard to this state – the need to occupy his mind with something, anything, but not McKay.

And with that in mind, "Twenty-five bottles of beer on the wall, twenty-five bottles of beer -"

Your trainer unit will be presenting water. You've been in this room for over two days, and you must drink and eat. It won't be pleasant, but it will sustain life.

Sheppard's harsh out-of-tune singing stopped. He peered towards where he thought the robot was. But then his mind focused on a point the aliens had mentioned.

"You told me yesterday it'd been two days, and you gave me water and food!" he accused. "It's been three, at least." Because he wasn't even sure if they hadn't been lying yesterday.

You are mistaken. Your mind is wandering in your seclusion. It has been two point four of your solar days.

Solar? God damn it! John desperately slammed another vision into his mind. The poster of Johnny Cash, and his skateboard – Rodney…not Rodney, "I need to see McKay," he blurted.

Even as he said it, it pissed him off. Why was he going there? John had thought of things that meant a lot to him and there the trail had gone from Cash to skate board to Rodney McKay. Go figure. The line between simple pleasures and complicated relationships was a pretty short one for John Sheppard.

We understand, and once you admit your feelings about unit McKay, you may have time together as a reward. To distrust is a natural state for you. His actions caused you to doubt him. It is understandable. To admit to a reasonable state is not wrong.

The anger boiled to the surface. John had been tormented, shocked, deprived, and now he was being told something that he knew wasn't true, and he hadn't even wanted to talk about Rodney with these psychological blobs. His issues with Rodney McKay, regardless of what they were, were his alone, and Sheppard wasn't into forced group therapy.

The emotion wasn't enough to generate heat, and he felt awkward and stiff, remaining tightly balled while he shouted at the ceiling. "I know what I think, and I trust Rodney McKay with my life! You read thoughts, you know I'm telling the truth, so this is all a game, which means nothing I do is going to help."

A flask of water rolled against his leg.

A reward? Did he figure something out? Good boy and all that stuff, or was he really getting dehydrated and needed the water? He'd urinated earlier, but he didn't even know where he'd gone in this stupid cell. He'd just crawled far away from his current spot, done it, and crawled back. John was weak, that's why he'd crawled, so there was that – maybe it had been two days, or three? More?

Closing his eyes against the disjointed thoughts in his mind, he pulled the flask to his lips, and started to drink.

The lie is not to us, but to yourself.

The denial sprang to his lips even as he swallowed his mouthful down. "I'm not lying to myself! Come on, you can't know that! If I'm lying to myself then you wouldn't know it was a lie – this is all a mental gambit– but for what? You never meant to protect, or get us to accept your rules. Who are you? What do you want from us?" he demanded, and tried to tell himself the anger he felt deep inside wasn't because their statement had any level of legitimacy to it.

Our job is to protect. We cannot protect until you allow us to do so, and we have determined that you will only allow this when you have been broken to the core. You and unit McKay share a bond of strength, and this is where we begin. You say you trust McKay, but you deceive yourself. We see the lie in you. If you do not trust this unit, then all you do now to protect him is contradictory, again, a flaw in your mental processes, proving again the need for protection. You cannot even do such a simple thing as care for yourself – you depend on us already for food and water, and air. If we took these things away, you would die. You are fragile, and destructive, and you must be protected until ready to be loosed again on the universe.

John knew his mind was dragging. He had moments where he drifted off and didn't know it until a shock brought him back to reality. They never let him sleep for long, only enough to get a sweet taste, and then always they brought him back.

But he was trying hard not to give up. John had thought left enough to resist, to ignore, and do whatever he could, to not give these aliens even an ounce of what they wanted, but he'd found himself slipping. Talking and responding when he shouldn't, and that was probably because of the fatigue.

To be this tired, it had to prove he'd been here more than two days, didn't it?

Trying to shake some clarity into his mind, John jerked his head. "We wouldn't need to depend on you, if you hadn't kidnapped us!"

We would not have come here if it had not been for the destruction of our colony!

The strength of the telepathic message rocked John, and he winced from the physicality of it. Colony?

The Protectors kept forcing the issue of the Dorandan disaster down his throat, and the Arcturus weapon – could it be that's where their colony had been? But, "The solar system wasn't inhabited! It was abandoned -" he protested, falling short, because when they considered life, they had considered only humans, and the sinking in his stomach had nothing to do now with his current condition.

We see within your thoughts you understand. We had a colony on the second planet from Doranda. Over a million of our people died. We came as soon as they failed to respond to communications, and we lost all forms of contact. We would not have known it was your people, except for an old, barely functioning monitoring satellite on the outer edge that wasn't destroyed. Heavily damaged, it still played back the horror of our lost colony. Now you see why we must protect? Not only yourselves, but others from you! When you consider life, you only considered yourselves.

Emotions ran hot and cold through John. If they were telling the truth, the impact of what they'd done, it was catastrophic – but if they weren't telling the truth, and it was just another mind game, what then?

And did it excuse them for the treatment of the two humans they had managed to capture?

"If that's true, then you'd hate us, and want to see us pay for our crimes, not protect us!" he shouted.

We told you, such feelings have long been controlled and contained by our race. We have evolved beyond letting emotions rule our actions. We see in you and unit McKay that you humans have not begun to pull away from rash decisions, based on emotions and inborn driven instincts. We must protect, not only you, but other life!

The mental barrage thundered to crescendo at the end, and John found himself wincing again from the onslaught. His head ached, and the water wasn't enough. It never was enough.

It was too much. All of it. The mixed thoughts about Rodney, the conditioning torture from these aliens. The very notion that their actions had slaughtered millions of innocents merely because they weren't like them.

His taut muscles relaxed as he just quit caring, at least for now. John hadn't given up, and he wouldn't, but just for this moment, he couldn't maintain his tight ball and his defiance. He wasn't Atlas, he wasn't anything, except a man doing his best and beginning to feel how woefully short the best was at times.

And damn it, he did trust McKay, regardless of what Karnack the Entity insisted.

"You hear that! I trust McKay with my life!" he snarled it with the force of his anger. "And the colony thing, nice try." John was pretty sure that was a lie.

You trust your life to unit McKay. So be it. We shall see if your trust is validated.

"What?" Sheppard's relaxed pose shattered. "That's not what I said! Listen, you guys really need to stop assuming things, just because you've got some higher power telepathy doesn't mean you're getting it right -" but as he protested, he felt the fog of the familiar drugged sleep began to creep over his senses, and suddenly he couldn't even remember what was making him worried.

OoO

McKay paced restlessly. It'd had to have been days, and more than the one the aliens were insisting had passed. He was thirsty, tired – the constant mental communication had given him a headache that made sleep impossible, even if it weren't for the Terminator Terror, as he'd dubbed the robot.

Trainer two, a thoroughly unimpressive mechanical creation, yet managed to chill him to the bones every time it approached him. He wondered how Sheppard was getting along with trainer one. Miserably, and probably worse than him, because John was stubborn, and when he was backed into a corner, he could be more difficult than Rodney on a bad day.

McKay had seen signs of his deviousness, and been surprised. John's little coup against the Genii when they'd gone to the hive ship to retrieve intel, had been his first real glimpse of the hardness of John Sheppard. The show of trusting others was shattered when he'd pulled Elizabeth aside and gave her instructions for having two additional jumpers poised and ready to defend their team if need be.

The fact that it had been needed hadn't seemed to surprise John at all. McKay hadn't seen it coming.

Rodney figured that maybe his screw up on Doranda had been worse, because even John hadn't seen that one coming.

Unit Sheppard is approaching.

His head came up, and he darted a look around the room. "Where? Here? I didn't think that was possible, you said we couldn't travel in your ship because of the environment."

We do not lie; he is being brought to you.

The spike of anticipation, relief, every possible positive feeling washed over Rodney, and it took that moment for him to realize how completely alone he'd felt.

But the logic in his mind wouldn't allow the warm fuzzy feelings to linger.

"That doesn't make sense. I haven't admitted anything – have I?" God, to be honest, he didn't even know what he was sure of anymore.

You continue to refuse that which is true, as does unit Sheppard. It is a pity, because once again, you have proven that more drastic measures are required. Our patience is not infinite.

McKay threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "Oh, I'm sorry we're screwing your timetable for conversion. Maybe the next aliens you capture will be more amenable to your – methods."

A clear tube rising up from the floor drew his eyes, and he watched mesmerized at the sight of the original robot, Trainer one, standing beside a slumped Sheppard.

Your friend is not injured. If you wish him to remain in that state, then you must do as we say.

Slowly, the robot rolled into the room as the tube continued up into the roof, pulling away from Sheppard and Trainer one, like a straw being retracted from a cup. The mechanics of the tube was fascinating, and new. Last time they'd used some kind of transporter technology, so why the change?

Focus, McKay – "That's original!" he shouted angrily. "Threaten one with the other's life and get them to go happily along, but one problem, that only ensures my cooperation!"

One is all we need. You give in, and he will follow.

It was distracting, splitting his attention between the robot dragging Sheppard across the room, and the conversation in his head.

"That doesn't make sense!"

Sheppard wouldn't go merrily along just because Rodney had weakly given in. In fact, Sheppard would probably be pissed at him.

And speaking of Sheppard, Rodney began to walk towards where the robot was laying him down, intent on being near him when John woke. The shock he felt surprised him, and as he crumpled to his knees, he realized that he'd stopped paying attention to his shadow, Trainer two.

"What was that for?" he cried out, pissed. All he'd done was walk towards his friend. "You could've asked!"

Do not approach unit Sheppard.

"Oh, really, thanks!" he bitched.

Clambering to his feet, Rodney tried unsuccessfully to straighten his clothes, but the events of how many days gone by, made the effort useless. The white scrub like clothes weren't holding up well to being shocked and tortured, go figure.

You have exactly sixty of your seconds to decide whether Sheppard lives or not.

Rodney froze. "Wait! I don't even know why? You want me to do what? Give me the stakes – you want to keep me like a nice little scientist pet, fine! Let him go!"

We want the location of the others of your kind. We have seen in both your minds two homes, one here, and one…far away.

Rodney McKay had felt fear, and despair, and the certainty that they were going to die before, but this – this was something new. Sheppard's life for betraying all of their kind.

"That's not fair. You can't possibly expect me to hand over the entire human race to save one life?"

Rodney had tried to muster every bit of indignation and scorn behind it, hoping they'd agree and release Sheppard, but inside, a small part of his soul was crawling frantically away because it knew that the aliens wouldn't stop, and that left him with one option only.

Fifty-two.

"He doesn't deserve this!" Rodney shouted. "I'll take his place!"

McKay's face paled and he dropped his eyes to the floor, rapidly thinking. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just said that. I don't want to die – but I don't want Sheppard to die." He looked back up, his face a mimic of wonder. "That's…downright selfless. Wow."

Forty-eight.

Apparently the aliens weren't interested in Rodney's epiphany.

"Stop!" he called. "Just stop, for a minute, please…" and there was another new one. He never said please.

Forty-one.

Seconds were all Sheppard had left. McKay knew there wouldn't be any reprieves. No last minute saves. John was lying there about to be killed because he couldn't do a damn thing.

Shaking his head numbly, McKay whispered. "I can't. You know I can't. Why are you doing this?"

Thirty-seven. He trusted you.

McKay knew that. Knew that even after the fiasco on Doranda, Sheppard trusted him. Sheppard would follow him wherever he said 'go' because of that trust. And now Sheppard was going to die because of him.

A dawning knowledge made him swell up with pride. Sheppard did trust him. "If you kill him, you're killing an innocent man, and going against the vaunted ethics you keep thrusting in our faces." Rodney sat on the floor and kept his chin up. "I won't hand over my friends, and my entire race, to beings like you."

Then unit Sheppard will die.

"And you will have failed to protect."

The voice in his head was quiet. McKay wanted to believe it was because what he had argued made a difference, but staring across at John's still body, he was afraid it hadn't.

The floor under his body shuddered, and Rodney jerked. He waited for it to come again, but he didn't feel it. Seconds ticked away, and he knew it'd passed the cut-off, yet trainer one stood impassively by Sheppard's body and made no move to kill the colonel.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Rodney got up and moved towards John, looking casually over his shoulder. Trainer two remained motionless. Closer he went, and still, both robots failed to react.

Just as he neared Sheppard's feet the ship shook again, hard, and Rodney was almost thrown to the floor. The two trainer units didn't move. Something bad was happening, he could feel it. The only explanation for those robots to be inactive was for the aliens to be preoccupied. Rodney had a hunch the preoccupation was the cause of the shaking of the ship.

Rodney latched on to Sheppard's upper body, and pulled. It felt like he was removing John from some kind of liquid stasis. There was resistance from something he couldn't see, but with one final tug, they both fell against the floor, Sheppard cradled in his arms.

While he tried to catch his breath, John began to stir fitfully.

"Wake up," huffed Rodney, jostling Sheppard's shoulder, and trying to pull his legs out from under Sheppard's weight. "Who would've thought you weighed this much?"

"You're never here when I need you. I drowned in the gate room, where were you? I was surrounded by wraith, where were you? Stupid damn Koyla and his goons, twice, no less, tried to make off with my body and intelligence, and again, where – were – you?"

Sheppard groaned, and tried to roll away from McKay, but Rodney latched on tighter.

"You're panicking, McKay," coughed John, blinking his eyes a few times before focusing on the hovering face above him.

"I'm not panicking," refuted Rodney.

The ship shuddered again, deep and hard, and metal groaned nearby. Alarmed, McKay relaxed his hold on Sheppard, who took the chance to sit up…sloppily.

"Yes, you are. There's a time for panicking and then there's a time for not panicking -"

Rodney bobbed his head irritably. "Yes, fine, this isn't the time for panicking."

John smiled ruefully. "No, I think this qualifies as a time for panicking."

As if the aliens had read their mind, again, the clear tube shot into the room, and then continued on up through the roof, before falling back down after only making it halfway. A loud popping noise, and the tube began to fill with what they could only assume was the aliens natural environment, because it was oozing into the tube from the ceiling.

"Then this is me panicking," agreed Rodney.

Both men stared worriedly at the filling tube and watched as drops began to escape the seal around the ceiling and fall to their floor at an increasingly fast pace.

Now was definitely the time for panicking.

TBC