Everyone knows Angela right? She's the ultimate brain! Yeah!

Notes: Naughty words will make an appearance in this chapter. You know Rodney, when he's upset...naughty. Also, aaaaaw, you guys are great! Glad you're enjoying this and soooooo pleased you're taking the time to review! I hope you won't hate this chapter...writer's paranoia :)

Chill

Waking, he wondered when the world had gotten so foggy.

While he attempted to sit up, his arms decided they wouldn't hold his weight; he collapsed back unto warm, comfortable softness. The slight movement efficiently consumed all his energy and he started to drift back, welcoming sleep. A soft voice spoke to him and a cold touch made him shiver.

"Settle down, John, you are safe." Teyla hated telling lies under any circumstances but what else was she to say? Everything is fine Colonel, we have been thrown into a cell masquerading as plush accommodation, Major Lorne and his team have disappeared, and we have been unable to tend to your wounds adequately? Somehow, she didn't think that would've been reassuring. She ran her hand over his forehead and saw him shiver.

"Are you cold?"

"Cold…on my head…" It was Teyla, she spoke to him. She was here, they were here. He burrowed his face in the very fluffy pillow and pulled a thick blanket up to his cheek, rubbing it against the material, enjoying the feel of it against his skin. A happy but weak smile graced his lips and he was content, despite the cold, the headache, the sore throat and aching muscles. He remembered waking up before to the same touch and the sound of voices speaking to him, speaking for him. John Sheppard lived and, for the moment, was glad. Friends, pillows and good knock you out for the week drugs, what more could a man want? Possibly, to be without the knowledge his very dead body reposed a few feet away and that, he who lay on the bed breathing, was just as insignificant. For now it didn't matter, barely registered in the haze that was his mind.

Teyla removed her hand. She had meant to comfort him back into sleep but had forgotten the cold. Carson had remarked, when he'd attempted to touch them many days ago, that he could only feel a cold resistance. It felt like placing your palm against seawater. Tall flames flashed through her mind and she smiled mirthlessly; they certainly could sense warmth. Thus, she knew John's skin was hot and it would be inadvisable for him to burrow deeper under the blanket as he was. She pulled it away from him gently, the slack hold he had easily countered.

"Uhnnnnnnn…blankets…" A hand snaked from under the pillow and it attempted to reclaim the warming weight.

"You must breathe. Let air circulate, I will cover you in a moment." She took hold of his hand and stroked his palm. A surge of tenderness towards the man ran through her when he smiled and hummed an appreciative noise before he went back to sleep.

She felt Rodney press against her, trying to see the Colonel. She turned to him and saw her concern reflected in his expressive face. "How is he?"

"I fear the infection has progressed. We must request medicine once more. He is shivering despite the warmth of his skin."

"Still feverish?"

"A little, yes."

Rodney was silent and breathed in deeply, apparently attempting to stop the flare-up he felt coming. His efforts were in vain. "Well then, that's just perfect isn't it? We come to save his ungrateful ass and what does he do? Get infected! Great! Goliath had to go homicidal on Lokas' sister and now, what, we get the speech on the value of life, a threat of serious punishment, and then they leave us to rot in here for days!" He breathed deeply once more and Teyla hoped he was done; she didn't want him to wake John.

Of course, he wasn't, was merely getting into stride. "Fucking idiots! That's all everyone is! MORONS! I thought my science team was a disgrace but they just might be the cream of the crop! Another galaxy and suddenly, by comparison, everybody on Atlantis is a damn genius! He's going to die again! Two bodies! Won't that be fun! Maybe I can lie between the two, make the whole thing even more grotesque! Can't we get a break! A BREAK! DO YOU KNOW WHAT A BREAK IS MURPHY? Slave-driver! That's what it is you know, a slave-driver, always wanting us to work work work so ir keeps sending trouble our way, making sure everything we do gets mangled in the worst possible way!"

She had not the patience for him this time. They'd coddled Rodney long enough. They were all in this situation together, what right did he have to claim all the misery as his own! She could understand, he was expressing his feelings the only way he knew how, but it was maddening. "I have had enough of you! You will be quiet, unless you can speak in a calm and respectful manner or can contribute a plan of escape!" The minute she saw his face harden further she regretted her words, but he needed to hear it, needed to stop being like this. She had no more to give, she couldn't comfort him. He had to be strong.

Knowing he was out of line, that they were just as upset as he was, didn't stop him from being a bastard. It felt good to yell, it was freeing. Rodney was so worried and scared and, yes, angry. Always angry because it was the most practical emotion, the most acceptable. What was he going to do; cry on Teyla's shoulder? Better yet, on John's dead body while he waited for him to die a second time! He couldn't do this anymore! He just wanted to be alone to…deal! Losing John had been so hard. Thinking about it brought physical pain, his heart constricted and his breath hitched. He couldn't handle this, he just couldn't and if Teyla wanted him to be nice and respectful well she could go back to her damn village! Who did she think she was anyway, huh? Damn her and her superiority complex! Ah, good ol' anger, so reliable, always there when you needed it! Concerned? Get angry. Fearful? Get angry. Sad? Get angry. Yep, rage, the McKay way of life.

"I don't care if you've had enough, got that? I'll say whatever I want, whenever I want and there's nothing you can do about it! You'll get no respect, no gratitude and I'll certainly not bow down to your imagined status in this team…"

"DOCTOR! You will be quiet. We must tend to John. You can be the selfish, cowardly, despicable man I know you to be later! Try to put your self-importance aside and think of another for a change. He needs us! I will not hesitate to harm you if you continue to behave this way!" He angered her so! She knew it was not the right thing to say, it would only create more pain, but it was what she needed. She couldn't be reasonable all the time! Assuredly, fighting amongst themselves would serve no purpose, but she was only human.

"Fine!" Teyla had called him Doctor and that stung; he had been Rodney to her for months now. Doctor was so cold, dismissive. She was right, though knowing that didn't abate his anger. For John, he would try to calm down and play nice.

Ronon didn't speak; he never did anymore, there was no point, no one listened. They'd been in this room for days; stuck to each other for two weeks. So close, yet drifting apart. Unable to say what they felt, to show vulnerability, to say they needed help. Choosing to hurt each rather than face their pain.

Yesterday, Lokas had come to explain in great details what would happen. McKay had asked innumerable questions about the device and what had happened to Sheppard. Not so much about what would happen to Ronon but he'd seen the look, McKay's 'you're going to die but we won't talk about it' look.

Ronon had perpetrated the highest offence on this world: taken a life. The ultimate punishment was severance. It seemed a terrible faith, but it wasn't. They'd rip his soul apart and send it to all corners of the universe. He'd be able to claim it back once he discovered the worth of life. Ronon had just laughed; he had no soul, not anymore. When you lost everything and were made a toy for the Wraith you couldn't afford a soul. He'd brought cullings to so many worlds just by spending the night, that he had resolutely closed himself off, discarded his feelings, his hopes, his dreams. Until he had come to Atlantis. A new beginning and a life that had been seized from him again. Sheppard, believed to be dead; Teyla growing bitter and hurtful from the strain of it all, McKay becoming increasingly callous and frantic. His family was drifting apart and it was the last battle, all over again. Betrayal, weakness, to each his own despite the consequence on the whole community. Theirs was small, only four people, almost strangers now, but a community nonetheless.

They were all too stubborn, himself included. He wouldn't say it but it burned within him. Regret, despair, the acuteness of loss. He was sorry for what he'd done; not because the woman had died but because he'd precipitated their destruction. If he hadn't given in to instinctual urges, they would be home and Sheppard would be getting the treatment he needed instead of thrashing helplessly in fever's clutches.

Home.

Little did he know that, on Atlantis, they were thinking of him as he thought of them.

Elizabeth was ready to tear her hair out of her scalp. She'd been negotiating the return of SGA-1 for days and the man wouldn't heed her.

"I apologise, but it cannot be prevented. Justice dictates that he be severed."

"I understand, it is your law, but can't we reach an agreement, find another way?"

He shook his head, eyes fixed on the table.

Elizabeth couldn't believe all that she had heard. John was alive, his team safe exception made of Ronon who would soon have his essence scattered across the universe. She still wasn't sure she understood it. "Please, explain this process again."

The man smiled and inclined his head in acceptance. "It is the highest form of justice on my world. It is meant to teach the value of life. One who has killed must return to the basis of being; he becomes his senses and true self, the core. The six senses are then sent through the Ring and find their carrying circle, or the family that will produce the carrier. These carriers are unaware of what they are."

"Colonel Sheppard is one of those carriers?"

"Indeed he is, as were five others, born only when the senses were ready to return. It was through a grave mistake that they returned so early in their progression. The carriers are not meant to be told of their status before it is time for the essence to come home. Only in the last moment of their lives are the senses taken to be assembled. He should never have known."

He fell silent for a moment, gaze fixed on his hands. "I will not lie to you, Doctor Weir. It was through the doings of my sister that he came to find himself in such a position. She would've been severed for her actions had Mister Dex not taken justice upon himself. The High House has no other choice but to uphold the law. He will be severed as soon as the veil has lifted. The others will be free to go but he will remain. I am truly sorry for the sufferings my sister's actions have brought upon you and yours."

She believed he was. This was a gentle man bound by obligations. His people's beliefs necessitated that Ronon be made to atone for the murder. She couldn't fault them though she had argued vehemently. Ignorance was not innocence, even in the Pegasus galaxy. She didn't want to lose Ronon but neither did she want to risk John, Rodney and Teyla. She knew John would never forgive her for not allowing Major Lorne to mount a rescue mission the minute he had come back from the planet where they'd been held, but it was her decision. How could they win against a world that had the ability to sever souls and reassemble them!

"I appreciate your position but wish there was a better solution." She stood, this meeting would only end the same way the previous had; with nothing lost but nothing gained. Ronon would be severed. There was nothing she could do.

Lokas left Atlantis with a heavy heart. It was not right. He missed Oblee but was wise enough to know she would've have been severed and he would've lost her regardless. At nearly five hundred years old, he wouldn't have lived to see her return. It was their fault Mister Dex was in this predicament. Had Mira come to him sooner, had he confronted Oblee instead of waiting, hoping she would not go forward with the plan, these people would never have lived through this. Truth be told, he had hoped Mira was lying, hoped she was the vengeful, evil person Oblee had made her out to be. Oblee had not been well. If only he had seen it sooner, helped her in some way, none of this would've happened. He could only hope she was at peace now…

He heard the pounding of running feet and saw Mira approaching, followed by four guards. He idly wondered why she was here rather than on Atle. The reminder of the world where Mira had been forced to stay for so long drew a sigh from the saddened man. A world made to obey a fake Celebrant. The Atle's High House was only a pale copy of their own; only meant as an excuse for Mira to meet any new arrivals. Meant to trap the carriers and send them to Oblee. How could he not have known! Mira had simply disappeared one day and it had been assumed that what Oblee said was true; she had attempted to prevent Banee's severance and had disappeared before she could be brought to justice. Oblee; lies upon lies. She had blinded them all, defied them on their own world without arousing suspicions.

Mira had drawn close enough for him to hear her cries. "Lokas! The veil has lifted!"

"When!"

"An hour ago! The High House is awaiting your return to proceed with the severance!"

He hurried his steps to follow as she told him of the events since his departure for Atlantis.