When Carson woke, it took a few moments for him to remember where he was. As he turned his head to look around, he felt the rough flooring in the corridor burn his face. It all came back to him in a flash of pain. He had been stunned but not by an ordinary stunner. He knew what that felt like after his little encounter with Phebus using Elizabeth's body, and this didn't feel like the same thing at all. Someone had modified a stunner. Carson frowned, thoughtfully. Whoever was doing this obviously had technical ability. First they adapted the medical laser and now they enhanced the stunner.

However, Carson's thoughts were interrupted when he turned his head to his right, and saw the marine who had been accompanying him.

Getting slowly and awkwardly to his feet, Carson went over to the body of the other man. He was lying in a pool of blood; his throat cut with almost surgical precisions.

"Och, lad, I'm so sorry," Carson said sadly. As he looked down at the other man, Carson's eye caught sight of something glinting in the dull light of the corridor. He nudged it with his foot, and saw, to his horror, that it was one of his scalpels. The marine's throat had been cut by one of his own scalpels. They were engraved with his initials and had been a present from his Mum. It made him even more sad to see one of these treasured gifts mis-used in such a way.

Without thinking, and acting instinctively, Carson reached down and picked up the scalpel. Just at that moment, he heard a noise behind him, and turned towards it.

"Carson," said John Sheppard. "Put that knife-thing down." The colonel stood there, his gun trained on the doctor, a frown on his face. Ronon stood beside him, his weapon trained on Carson too.

"It's a scalpel," Carson responded. Somewhere in the back of his still slightly confused mind, he felt the need to correct John.

"Okay," John replied. "Put the scalpel down."

Carson did so, placing it very carefully on the ground. "It's one of mine," he said, not noticing the worried glance that John and Ronon exchanged. "He killed him with one of my scalpels. They were a gift from my Mum. She wouldn't like that."

"Carson," John continued. "I want you to come with me."

Carson looked up at him, his eyes still holding a look of bewilderment. All that had happened over the last few days was starting to take its toll on him. Looking at John, he suddenly remembered why he had been in the corridor in the first place.

"Rodney," he said, again earning a worried look between John and Ronon. "You have to protect Rodney," he continued.

"Yes, Carson," John agreed, speaking simply, as if to child. "Why did you try to kill him?"

"I didn't try to kill him," Carson said, a frown on his face. "I was trying to warn you that since I didn't try to kill him, someone else did and might try again."

There was a real sadness on John's face. "You did try again, Carson," John answered, the sadness in his voice mirrored that in his face. "Someone tried to kill Rodney with this scalpel, after you escaped from your room."

"But it wasn't me," Carson said, still frowning.

"I wanna believe you, Doc," John responded. "But you were missing at just the time someone tried to kill Rodney. The evidence against you is mounting up, and for your own safety I think it's best if we lock you up, in a cell."

"Is Rodney okay?" Carson asked, not quite taking in all that John had said.

"Yes," Ronon confirmed. "Someone interrupted the attempt."

"Then, you must know it wasn't me," Carson said, pleadingly.

"You were identified, Carson," John said, gently, still not wanting to believe all the evidence himself. "Someone saw you try to kill Rodney, and saw you escape when you were found out."

"Who saw me?" Carson asked, his mind still trying to get round the facts. "How could they see me if I wasn't there?"

"It was Thomas," John said. "The new nurse who arrived on the Daedalus a few weeks ago. But he knows you well enough to identify you."

Carson's expression was still one of bewilderment. "But I wasn't there," he said.

"Then where were you?" Ronon asked.

Carson looked troubled. "I . . I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. "I lost consciousness and then when I woke up, I was here, and the marine was dead." He looked over at the marine's body sadly. "But John," he said remembering his reason for going to see John in the first place. "I've proof I didn't set up the laser to try to kill Rodney. I couldn't have. I was in my room, asleep, maybe drugged."

John listened patiently while Carson explained what he had found.

"Look, Carson," he responded with a sigh. "I'd love to believe you. But that would be kinda easy to set up. The evidence is stacked up against you, and that doesn't prove anything other than someone with the Ancient gene slept in your room that night. It doesn't prove it was you."

The look on Carson's face almost broke John's heart. He dearly wanted to believe the doctor had nothing to do with the attacks on Rodney, but it was getting more difficult with each incident.

"Carson," he said, putting his hand on the Scot's arm. "I've no choice but to put you in one of the cells."

"But Rodney . . ," Carson said.

"We'll keep a close eye on him too," John assured him.

Carson nodded. Slightly happier than before, he allowed himself to be gently led away by Ronon.

oOoOoOo

John made his way to Rodney's side, his heart heavy, his mind troubled. Teyla was sitting there, talking quietly with Rodney. She glanced up at John, her expression worried. John slowly shook his head, and she responded with a sigh.

"Okay," Rodney said, his voice still slightly hoarse. "What were the amateur dramatics for? All that head shaking and sighing. Just what are you trying to hide from me? And where is Carson? Why will no-one tell me where Carson is? You don't still believe he's trying to kill me? Is there still something wrong with me? Is that why no-one is telling me anything?"

"No, Rodney," John said, a false patience in his voice. "The reason no-one is telling you anything is that there is nothing to tell you."

"Oh, thank you," Rodney replied, sharply. "That makes everything so much clearer. Someone tried to kill me, and there is nothing to tell me. You don't think I might be interested in who is trying to kill me? And what chance have you got of finding out who killed me anyway? Unless it's some blonde, with long legs and cute dimples, you wouldn't notice."

"And was it me who almost got us killed trying to show off to Norina?" John retaliated.

"And was it your brilliantly inspired plan that got us out before we were all blown to millions of pieces?" Rodney asked sharply.

Teyla tried to hide her smile as she witnessed another round of the friendly fighting that was very much part of the relationship between these two men.

Then Rodney's expression turned more serious, and there was a look of hurt in his eyes.

"Do you honestly think Carson is trying to kill me?" he asked, a note of vulnerability in his voice that matched the look in his eyes.

"We are looking into every possibility," Teyla said, trying to reassure the scientist. "But we will also ensure whoever is responsible cannot hurt you any more."

But Rodney wasn't in the mood to be reassured. "But why would he want to kill me?" he asked.

"Do you want the obvious reasons?" John asked, with a grin. "Ouch," he continued turning to Teyla. "What was that for?" He looked down at his shin, which had come in contact with the edge of Teyla's boot.

"Do not worry, Rodney," Teyla said, reassuringly. "He is simply teasing you. Are you not, Colonel?" she asked pointedly.

John grinned in response, and was about to respond, when his comm-link interrupted.

"Colonel Sheppard," the voice said. It had a strident note that gave the words a note of urgency and almost panic.

Teyla's eyes met John's.

"It's one of the marines guarding Carson," John said, half to himself, half to the others.

"What is it?" Rodney asked, feeling left out of the conversation.

As if in response to Rodney's comment, the marine continued. "There's a problem with Dr Beckett. We need you here now, Sir, and some medical help too!"