Blake really didn't expect anyone to come for them.

After all, not only were they just not that important in the grand scheme of things, but they were major pains in the ass. Sheppard was most likely celebrating that his two main source of headaches were out of his hair, and Beckett was probably thanking whatever God he prayed to that he wouldn't have to treat the casualties of their pranks anymore.

Kavanagh, may he burn in some type of hell, was most likely doing some type of ass-holeish happy dance in the lab now… McKay would be bitching at him, most likely.

McKay, he suddenly thought of the man, he wasn't a bad guy. Got a little annoying and often was a chicken-shit, but on the whole, he was a decent guy. He probably wouldn't be rejoicing at their loss… Blake felt quite sure that he wouldn't.

Of all of his superiors, McKay was the only one he really had seemed to connect to. Even Lt Ford, who was the same age as Forrester, hadn't really been friendly with either of them. That's what happens, though, when some people are just considered more important than others. Some people, he could understand, were just expendable.

'Fuck that,' he thought angrily, 'I've done plenty! I'm not just some anonymous scientist in the background – not just some little soldier in combats and shiny boots. I have a girl waiting for me at home; I have my folks to look after, they're getting old and can't handle the farm all by themselves. And what about Sara?'

Shut up, he told himself. This kind of thinking wouldn't get him anywhere.

But God his arms hurt and the ribs he had once thought merely cracked were now definitely broken. His breath was strained, painful, and bubbled in his chest.

Something was broken on the inside, he knew, tasting blood in his mouth. It wasn't from his nosebleed. That had dried up a few hours ago and this stuff tasted fresh.

Calming himself, Blake took a deep breath – held it for a moment – then exhaled slowly.

It hurt like a bitch and a new wave of bloody mist drifted out of his mouth.

He cursed as he could hear his insides moving and gurgling.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed, wincing at the pain caused. It was a punctured lung, definitely, and being hung like this wasn't helping the inability to breath to much. If he didn't get let down soon he'd smother standing up.

This was, on the whole, a rather unpleasant prospect.

"Hey," he called out, "Frog?"

He couldn't see behind him but he hoped that the guard that he had heard moving behind him earlier was paying attention.

"Frog?"

He was feeling very light headed, he thought that it was just him when the room started to spin, but then realized that the room was moving. The guard behind him had come silently up and twisted the chain he hung from, rotating the agonized prisoner on the spot.

"What?"

Blake blinked and looked at the big red headed guard and smiled awkwardly.

"I'll talk to….senor frog….now."

The big man smiled back and shoved the panting prisoner lightly, setting him spinning.

Wow – just realized that I need to catch a bus. Aw hell, I can catch the next one…. But I really should be studying my psychology. If I get a bad grade its all your fault, okay?

Life in Atlantis had gone back to what was as normal as a city in a different galaxy could be for nearly everyone. Rodney was still mad.

There had been a nice little ceremony on the mainland – two headstones were laid down with nothing below them. The words written on their headstones 'lost but not forgotten' were the furthest thing from the truth Rodney could think of.

Already the small bouquets of flowers and candles laid by the entrance to the junior ranks mess had been cleared away, and the personal effects of Forrester and Donovan had been cleared out of their blocks and placed in storage to be sent to their families if there ever were a chance. All traces of their deeds, of their very existence, were erased from visibility. Rodney hated it.

Small condolence were the empty graves, the black italicized names written on a small plaque in the control tower, and the two upturned shot glasses in the junior's mess that sat in front of a small Polaroid picture of the two.

The sight of the small memorial had nearly caused McKay to burst into tears. The picture was one he remembered – they had just pulled off their greatest prank ever, their faces were glowing, and they stood in ceremonial dress outside Weir's office for official reprimand. They were absolutely exhilaration itself in that picture.

He was torn between laughing at the memory and sobbing at the knowledge that they had been abandoned by their comrades. For who knows, they could still be alive waiting for someone to come find them, or they could be on a Wraith hive ship having their lives sucked out of them.

In his grief, Rodney pocketed the picture and took it to his office where he thumbtacked it to his bulletin board right next to his head.

In some odd twist of fate, the same marine passed by his office again. She saw him sitting there, gazing at something on his wall with the most heart wrenching look of loss on his face. This time, she couldn't help but walk over and comfort him. He gratefully accepted her embrace and they sat there for most of the night in each others arms.

When they drew apart some time later Rodney attempted to make a small joke and apologize for the tear-soaked patch on her shoulder, but she didn't care.

The kiss was long, tender, and oh so meaningful.

Awww... I couldn't help it -I just had to stick something in for Rodney... he's such a bastard - he needs someone to have a nice little fling with.

Sara woke up screaming as the thing tried to rip her shirt away from her body.

In her sleep it had tied her ankles and wrists together and now was trying to get over that obvious obstacle of undressing the struggling Atlantian. The creature was heavier than she was and had her pinned against the wall, but didn't seem to have enough hands to both hold her down and get her pants off.

"Pretty kitty, pretty kitty," it leered, "can't use her claws! Purr pretty kitty!"

Its breath was repulsive and was positively the most disgusting thing she had ever smelt. When it gloated at tying her up, Sara was tempted to bite it but reconsidered – it would leave an even worse taste in her mouth than the fuzz on her teeth.

Struggling wildly, she managed to use momentum to toss it off of her and she found her way to her knees, but was unable to stand. That was all the thing needed and pushed her backwards into the corner, forcing her hands behind her head to keep from smashing against the stone wall. It smiled terribly showing yellow, rotted out teeth that were pointed like a canine's.

"Kitty, kitty… kitty must be ready to play after having so much sleep. Kitty needs to play. Is kitty playful?"

Sara gritted her teeth and tried to squirm away from its grasp, but its hands were like suction cups around her throat. One filthy paw moved away from her neck and trailed down to her chest, using the talon-like fingernails to tear the fabric away from her.

"I swear I will fucking kill you, you son of a bitch," she growled at the thing, but it only made freakish whimpering noises and ignored her threats.

"Pretty kitty, pretty, pretty, pretty… kitty's going to play now."

Before she blocked off her senses completely, Sara glanced over to the door where the little panel had been opened and now a pair of cold eyes looked in and the sound of cruel laughter drifted to her ears.

Blake was let down from the chains after Senor Frog had all the information he wanted. A doctor or someone that knew a bit about medicine had come and gone, setting his ribs and fixing a few various things that were broken. However, the pain in his lungs was sharp and he continued to cough up blood. He would bleed internally to death if he didn't get real medical attention, and Senor Frog had made that known that he would receive that treatment if he gave up more information.

"Ahh, I haf heard zat zee bleeding vrom eenzide es za most painful vay to die."

Blake would have cried if it didn't hurt so much.

"I can't tell you that," he sobbed, gasping for air. "I can't tell you."

Another man, this one darker and more Greek-looking stepped forwards and leaned against the heavily breathing prisoner's chest with callous deliberacy.

"You can't or you won't? Maybe this whole physical pain isn't enough for you," he sneered. "You seemed to have forgotten that we have one of your friends in our care."

A cold shiver went down Blake's spine as the man put an unnerving emphasis on the last word. He looked at the dark man, hate in his eyes.

"You wouldn't dare hurt her!"

They both smiled widely.

"Ah, but I vill introduce u to my esteemed colleague, meester Matthias. Your leetle girl friend's personal interrogator."

Blake looked in rage at the second man.

"Ah yes, young miss petty-officer-second-class-Donovan-Sara-Lee… or do you just call her bitch," Matthias asked leaning on Blake's chest.

"Her name is Donovan," Forrester ground out, pain flaring in his ribs and blood trickling into his mouth.

Matthias smiled and leaned in closer to Blake's prone form, "tell me, mister Forrester. When you fuck her does she always scream like a banshee?"

The blood drained from his face and he felt sick to the stomach. "You fucking bastard!"

"No, it wasn't me," Matthias grinned, moving away from the enraged man. "It was one of the prisoners – he's been locked up for quite a long time and, I'll tell you, did he ever put on a show."

Blake's body went tense and he had to force himself to breath.

"But how rude of me, I should have extended the invitation to yourself," Matthias faked smacking his forehead. "How rude… next time I guess I'll have to make sure you're there. Frohog – lets arrange a session, how about now?"

Frog smiled and rubbed his bony fingers together, nodding freverantly.

Blake felt sick as he was pulled up and dragged away down into the dungeons where already he could hear muffled screams and curses drifting up to torment him.

The guards laughed as he sobbed and Sara screamed.

When it was done, when they had made him watch, they asked him if he would tell them everything they wanted to hear.

Blake hesitated, but when yet another scream reached him and the laughter of guards overpowered him he sobbed and nodded yes.

God I'm horrible! I think I should get my head looked at... either about the perv or the senor frog. spooky.