Carson was woken from a fevered sleep by the arrival of two of their captors. If he was being honest with himself, he was feeling absolutely lousy. The infection round his wounded shoulder was spreading and his whole shoulder felt as if it was on fire. His body thermostat was definitely set to over-heat, and he felt as weak as a newborn kitten.

He lifted his weary eyes to look at the men, the usual bright blue faded to grey.

"Come on, Doctor," one of the men said. "You've got visitors."

The remark peaked Carson's interest, but it took too much energy to show it. He allowed himself to be dragged onto his feet and along the corridors. His feet weren't moving very well on their own, but held between the two men, he was able to shuffle along the corridor. Each step, however, jarred his shoulder, and by the time the arrived at the main cave, Carson was only just able to cling to consciousness.

"Welcome, Doctor," Mikal said when he noticed his arrival. Carson stood before him, his head bent, as he tried to focus on staying upright. "You're not looking too well, Doctor," Mikal noted. "Maybe you're not such a good doctor as we were told."

Angered into a response, Carson looked up. "Aye," he said. "And maybe if you'd stop arguing, I wouldn't have to use all my supplies patching up the damage it causes."

"Tut, tut, Doctor," Mikal said. Then his gaze turned menacing. "Remember, if you annoy me, I would ask for a fight, I'll just take out my annoyance on one of those very appealing children in your care."

Carson lunged towards him, but Mikal easily avoided him, leaving Carson to sprawl on the ground, too weak to get back onto his feet.

"Now, Doctor," Mikal said. "Here I was, being nice to you, and all you do, is to threaten me."

Carson just looked at him, with no energy left to do anything else. Mikal just laughed.

He moved towards Carson, and dragged him to his feet. He then pushed him towards the cage at the far end of the cave. Carson let himself fall against the bars. He was vaguely aware that two men within the cage jumped to their feet.

Mikal unlocked the door, and pushed Carson in. As he fell, Carson was aware of two sets of hands reaching towards him, trying to break his fall. He looked up into the familiar faces of John and Ronon.

"Thanks," he managed to say. Then a horrible thought crossed his mind. "They didnae . . . .?" He couldn't continue.

"They haven't cut out our tongues," Ronon answered the question he was unable to voice.

"Yet!" John added. "Apparently, that is the reward for completing your first fight."

"Ahh," Carson said, relief evident in his whole demeanour.

"I hate to say this, Doc," Ronon said. "But you look awful."

"Thank you, lad," Carson said ruefully. "That just about sums up how I feel too. Bloody awful."

"What's wrong with you, Carson?" John asked, his concern for the doctor evident in the gentle hand he put on the doctor's arm.

"Just an infected wound, and a touch of flu," Carson said, sighing.

"Just!" John said. "I'm surprised you're still on your feet."

"I'm only just managing it," Carson admitted. He looked at them, a faint look of hope in his eyes. "Was this part of the rescue plan?"

"Not exactly," John admitted with a grimace. "Ronon's sense of justice overwhelmed his sense of self-preservation, and we had to do abit of thinking on our feet."

Carson smiled up at the Satedan. "I know how you feel, lad," he said. "These idiots," he nodded towards their captors, "could try the patience of a saint."

"And I'm no saint," Ronon admitted, eliciting a grin of agreement from John.

"Are you going to be okay, Carson?" John asked, looking at the pale face of the doctor, as he was overtaken by an attack of shivering.

"Aye, I will in time," Carson said. "I feel fair wabbit, peely wally, and drookit wi' sweat, but I'll be fine."

Ronon looked at John, puzzled. "Did you understand any of that?" he asked.

"I think he is feeling ill at the moment, but he will get better," John said, his tone uncertain.

"Aye, lad," Carson said, "that just about covers it."

"Carson, have you any idea what they will do with us?" John asked. "They said we would replace the injured fighters."

"Aye," Carson said. "All the fighters are unfit to fight. Next time a couple of our hosts out there have a disagreement, they'll force you and Ronon to fight."

"What if we refuse?" John asked.

"That I dinnae know," Carson admitted. In his weary state, his accent seemed stronger than usual. "But they may well use the children as incentive. They've done that to me. Forced me to do things by threatening them."

"Typical cowards' reaction," Ronon said, dismissively. "Using those who can't defend themselves to force the issue."

"We just need to delay things as much as possible," John said. "Teyla and McKay followed us here." Ronon nodded. He had noticed it too. "And they will be working out how to get us out, as we speak." John continued.

"Now that's a frightening thought," Carson said with a smile. "Just think o' the complicated plans Rodney could devise to get us out o' here."

"Teyla will keep him in order," Ronon said confidently.

"And Elizabeth will make sure they've got the firepower we need. And not just in Rodney's hands." John added. "And you know Carson, Rodney will be keen to get you back in one piece. He doesn't trust any other doctor to look after him."

Carson smiled. "Aye, just because they all shout at him even more than I do, lad."

"There's another one who would try the patience of a saint," John responded, thinking of all the times he had come close to losing his temper with Rodney himself.

"Och, but his heart is in the right place," Carson said.

"You should know, doc," Ronon said, with a grin. "You have to check it's still beating often enough."

Carson started to laugh, and then continued to cough, the coughs wracking his body making him wince in pain.

John got a glass of water and held it to the doctor's lips. "Are you sure you're okay, Carson?"

"How many times are you goin' to ask me that before you believe my reply?" Carson managed to ask between coughs.

"Maybe when you admit how ill you are, I'll start believing you," John responded.

"I'll be fine, lad," Carson repeated. "I just need to get home, and then I'll be fine." He said it almost as a prayer, as if by repeating it, it would come true.

Just at that moment, the door to the cage was flung open, and Mikal's large form took up the whole area.

"Well, gentleman," he said, with a sarcastic smile. "You're time has come. Two of my friends have had a disagreement, and we need your assistance to settle the matter."

Ronon and John exchanged glances, and Carson, fell back against the wall trying to hide the welling fear he was feeling. Just what would they do to his friends? And what would it cost them?