Disclaimer: I still own nothing…

AN: I hope you like this chapter…I had a lot of grand ideas for how it would go down but in the end, the writing pales in comparison to my imagination. Thank you to all of people who reviewed…without your support I probably would have stopped writing it 3 chapters ago.

And now on with the show….

John spent a restless night in the bed next door, alert for any change in her breathing, nodding off occasionally. Carson came in at dawn to wake him up and kick him out for a much needed shower. It was only knowing that she wouldn't wake up for some time that got him out of the room and to his own quarters.

He desperately wanted to stay there, but he was on the clock and with no immediate emergency to her situation, Elizabeth would not let him. He couldn't say just how much that hurt, but the rational part of his brain won out and decided that sticking it to her would not be helpful in the situation. So it was with great reluctance that he made his way towards the control room to report in with the boss.

Midway through is meeting with Elizabeth discussing the trade negotiations with a new planet, the COM cackled to life.

"Col. Sheppard. Please report to the infirmary. I repeat, Col. Sheppard. Please report…"

He was out of the room in record time.

By the time John got to the infirmary, she was in the final throes of an attack that far surpassed the previous night's. Everything about her body screamed. Her mouth was forming words but they were unintelligible with all of the activity around her. Her eyes were open, but unseeing and her head rose in supplication. Nothing prepared him for the sight of her whispering his name while in such suffering. It was a physical blow to his chest. Even though she was calming down as he stood there, his body immobile, he couldn't stop the past few seconds from replaying over and over again in his mind. Within moments, she was once again laid out flat on the bed with the monitors steadily beeping around her.

He was shooed out of the room by one of the nurses as they isolated her once more. Several minutes later, Carson stepped out to face him. Before John could speak though, he was on his COM calling for Dr. Weir, Major Lorne, Rodney and Ronon to assemble in the Med Bay.

"I'm sorry, Colonel. You just have ta wait until tha others get here. I don't want ta repeat myself about this. Rest assured though, she is fine now. I administered another dosage of tha sedatives ta give her body time ta really rest." Carson told him as he made his way towards his office before disappearing behind the closed door once again.

John was left standing there in the time between. The others arrived in record time, anxiously awaiting news of her condition. They were hard pressed to find a measure of objectivity enough to patiently go through their everyday tasks and this interruption only put them more on edge.

Carson returned with pages in hand to direct them towards his office for the next words he would deliver.

"Seeing as there is nothing physically wrong with her, the recent activity leads me ta believe tis' a matter of tha brain. She is showing signs of shock seen mostly in extreme trauma situations but there is nothing indicating what kind of trauma tha' is." Carson calmly explained to the congregation before him.

"I took tha liberty of hooking her up to an EEG while she was under the medication and good thing tha'. She suffered another mild episode this morning while supposedly sedated. Then when the big one happened, I noticed a variance in the readings tha' led me ta this."

Carson brought out the print outs and pointed to the gross variation, "See here. This is her normal brain activity under sedation. This here is her brain activity during the 'attacks'. Tha' is not normal."

"But couldn't this just be dreaming? Like how some people sleep walk…she has enough in her past that would inspire horrible nightmares in any sane person," Rodney cut in.

"You aren't understanding me, son. This is not dreaming. It does not merely rise ta R.E.M levels. It spikes. This is so far beyond dreaming, I would say it's in the realm of real sensory input. Her brain is acting like this is really happening ta her, so far as ta incite these physical responses."

"But it goes away, though, in time…"

"I fear it is far more serious. With the sedatives, she suffered what I would define as a mild attack. Without tha sedatives, it becomes far worse. And they last longer and do more physical damage now than they did during the night."

John butt in, "You said it was only shock. What do you mean damage?"

"Son, the harder and longer they continue, the more stress is put on her body. Already her vitals are in a weaker position than they were yesterday. If this continues, her body will fail ta recoup and she will eventually die."

"Then sedate her! You said it yourself: the episodes are weaker when she has the sedatives…"

"She can't bloody handle tha'! If I keep her under, we won't know how it will affect her. It could do more bloody damage ta her than not. She could go straight into a coma, then die. Or her liver and kidneys would fail and then die. It all ends the same way! I can't do a bloody thing!"

The occupants of the room stood in dazed silence after Carson's exclamation. Each pondering the reality of the circumstances and what would happen if Teyla were to die. It was too uncomfortable to be around each other and as a result, they filed out slowly, wandering to be alone and think alone thoughts.

Carson pulled John aside after the others left. He did not want to have to ask this question but the situation demanded it. "I have ta know: did she ever tell you about any torture tha's been done ta her?"

"What?" John's stunned reply was too loud for the quiet environment.

"She seems like she's reliving something over and over again and I've found some scarring tha' would indicate deep wounds. So I was wondering if you knew anything seeing as you're the closest to her," Carson tentatively explained.

"No…she's never told me anything about torture, but how new did those wounds look?"

"Well, I can't say for certain since her Wraith DNA may affect some of her healing abilities, but they look fairly recent. At least within the last six months…"

The pregnant pause that followed did not assure Carson in the least. "I don't know what happened, but I think I know who does…" John's quick stalk out of the room boded ill for his intended prey and Carson was glad to have not been at that end of John's anger. His face had been a calm mask, but his flinty eyes revealed the nature of his mission.

John spotted Lorne in a far corridor towards the West Pier after asking around for half an hour. The place was empty and John had no intention of letting the good Major get away this time. He was looking in the opposite direction and thus, did not see John as he came up behind him.

"You know something." John's quiet voice startled Lorne out of his inattention.

Lorne hesitated before replying, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You've known this whole time. And I want to know what that is."

"I really don't know what you want to know…" he repeated in haste.

John moved quickly, reflexes enhanced by his training with Teyla. Within a blink of an eye he had Lorne pinned to the wall, one hand at his throat and the other against the chest. "Teyla is going to die. Is that motivation enough for you?" John asked in the same deceptively soft voice.

"I can't! I swore to her…"

"Oath or not, she is dying! What you say could mean the difference between the blood being on your hands or on fate's. Now what is it going to be?"

"She…I…"

"She's your goddamn friend!"

"Okay! Okay…I'll tell you what I know. But I don't know much. She never told me why and I just cleaned up the mess."

John let go of the red-faced major and stood silently, waiting for him to continue.

"A week after you left, she asked for some personal time on the mainland. Since there was nothing important going on, I said yes. She requested that I fly her, but I was cornered by the science department and couldn't spare the time. So Miller took her and flew back within the day." Here Lorne paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts and courage to begin the second part of the story.

"Two days later, we get a hail on the radio – you know, the emergency one we gave to Halling – requesting someone fly over to collect her. I wondered why she didn't say so herself, but then I thought that she was busy at the time. As her friend, I flew one of the jumpers to the mainland expecting a quick pick up. When I got there, Halling was waiting for me at the designated spot…"

Lorne was silent once more, staring off at a spot beyond John's shoulder. Before he continued, he gave a pained glanced towards John's face before looking to the floor.

"There was so much blood. She was covered in it. Completely unconscious, which was not surprising. There were various wounds to her body but I couldn't tell how many or how serious they were because of all the blood. Halling carried her in his arms before dumping her in mine." His voice was softly cracking through the narrative, "He said something but…but I didn't hear him, I was staring at her. I flew her back here and sometime between the Jumper Bay and the Medical Bay she started waking up. The doctor on staff put her out and patched her up. She was unconscious for a day and confined to the bed for another two."

As he continued, his voice gained in vigor, "During her confinement, she begged me to swear not to tell anyone what happened. I told her no, citing the fact that everyone probably already knew from the activity in the Med Bay, but she was relentless. Turns out it was her lucky day since most of the staff was out and the rest were pretty easy to persuade. I told myself that I could watch her and make sure she was alright. She spent the rest of the weeks recuperating in her room and meditating in the gym. I tried asking her what happened, but she just clammed up. So I made a trip back and tried to get Halling to answer. But that was a bust as well. All he said was that she was my people now and then walked away. I didn't know what else to do and I couldn't report anything." He broke off, as if contemplating something quite foul.

"The thing is, the mandate for reports involve off-world or on-base activity of our people. But Teyla and the mainland didn't fit into either, so I thought it was okay." He stopped here, running out of steam and slumping against the wall. He held his head in his hands while he said the next few words, "But she isn't okay and it's my fault."

John mutely watched him. He was searching for the right words while trying to maintain his grip on sanity. His hands unconsciously fisted and his body tensed. The chasm between them was deep and wide though they stood but three feet from each other. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" John spit out.

"She didn't give me any choice! Everything was fine until she went on the mission. And I didn't think this would happen. This isn't normal! I've seen POW's and this isn't anything like it. You would have done the same thing in my position. If you were me, and she begged, you would have kept silent too…"

"But I wasn't. And I'm not," John flatly cut in before walking off.

Lorne was lost in his recriminations. He knew he should have told someone, but at the time, she was fine! She was fine and she goddamn forced him to keep shut. It wouldn't have done anything good if he told then and even now, there was nothing they could do. She was dying and the information he had only poured salt into the wounds. He would never forgive himself this.

TBC