A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Real life is quite challenging at the moment, but I'm definitely not abandoning this fic. It might just take a while to finish it. I'm trying to get a chapter done every week. Big thanks to everyone who has been reading and waiting patiently. Especially, I want to thank everyone who has been sending me emails regarding the story. You have really been encouraging me to make time and work on this story.

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Aiden didn't pay any attention to where he was going. His thoughts were trapping his mind, distracting him from his surroundings. He felt exhausted like he had never felt before. Less on a physical level, although he felt the strain of days with hardly any sleep and little food. But compared to the mental weariness, it was merely irritating. He himself did not understand how the situation had gotten this far out of hand and where he had allowed to let himself be overwhelmed by circumstances. He knew fully well that there was nothing he could have done to change events, and even if there was, it was a moot consideration. There was no way to chance to go back and change what had happened. Rationally, he knew that he had to keep his eye on keeping up morale and getting the team back to Atlantis where his team members could finally get the much needed medical attention.

Aiden sat down on a fallen tree. If only it were that easy. He knew what he had to do, but when he was face to face with his team and the accumulation of disasters that had happened, all he could feel was numbness and quiet desperation. Everything they had done had gotten them into deeper trouble and they had been fighting against time from the start. He balled his fists. He was angry. Not at the misfortunes that had struck them. He was angry at himself. He had thought he could handle command better than this. He had thought he'd be more ready. But without anyone there to guide him, he had been in the dark, unable to assert his authority. He recalled bickering with Teyla. Not even she accepted him as he leader when Sheppard wasn't around to back him up. No wonder, she was a natural leader herself, her entire people looked up to her, while he couldn't even lead a small team, that now solely relied on him. In the end, his sense of duty came through, no matter how much anger and guilt he had bottle up inside, for now, survival was their first priority, everything else would come later. Ford took a deep breath and got back to his feet. Even if he couldn't lead them with the same serene calm as Teyla, he could consider her suggestion. He hadn't noticed how far from the lake he had walked. It took him over an hour to rejoin Teyla and Sheppard. Luckily they were still safe on the shore of the lake. The sun had climbed on the sky and the temperature was now reminiscent of a summer's day, but not uncomfortably hot. John and Teyla's clothes' were almost dried by the sun now.

As soon as he approached the pair Teyla called out: "Aiden, is it you?"

"Yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, but I'm worried about John. He seemed restless. I am certain that I felt him move against him before. I tried talking to him, but he didn't respond to him. I'm concerned that he had another seizure. We need to return to Atlantis so that Dr. Beckett can treat him."

Aiden moved over to John's side. He was still as ever since the incident in the cave. When Aiden removed the bandage to check the wound for infection or bleeding John started to move restlessly under his hands. His eyes remained closed, but he was moaning as if in pain.

"Sir? Major Sheppard, can you hear me?" Aiden asked hopefully. He grasped John's hand with a firm grip, but the pressure wasn't returned. The languid movements continued, but all efforts to communicate and further rouse the major failed. He wouldn't wake no matter what the they did, he remained semi-conscious. Teyla was finally able to stop him moaning when she managed to settle him in a comfortable position. Without blanket, they had to make due with their clothes to soften the hard ground. Both Teyla and Aiden maintained contact by holding John's hands until he slipped into unconsciousness hours later. Neither of them had spoken a word during the entire time, but the experience had heightened their spirits. Especially Aiden who had been hard pressed to see any possibility that John could survive could hope that his friend and commander might still come out of the situation alive.

"What did you mean earlier when you were talking about the transmitter?" Aiden asked Teyla, finally breaking the silenence.

"I was thinking that it might be possible to activate the transmitter of the ship to send out a signal. Hopefully it will reach Atlantis. I'm sure they are still looking for us. Dr. Weir will not give up easily." Teyla suggested.

"The ship is on the bottom of a lake, the transmitter might have been destroyed in the crash. But I see what you mean. It might be worth a try, we have nothing to lose. I see no way we can get off this planet." Aiden said, trying not to fall back to his earlier pessimism.

Aiden started to take off his boots, pants and vest. "I'm going to give it a shot. The lake seems to be pretty shallow, the ship isn't far from the surface and the cockpit window is busted. It should be possible to dive down there even without any gear."

"How will you make sure that Atlantis knows that the signal is from us?" Teyla asked, realizing that she hadn't considered that detail in her plan.

"Morse code, it's sort of a code system used for transmission on Earth." Aiden explained without going into any details.

"Be careful" Teyla urged him. In spite of her fearless façade, she was terrified that he plan would endanger Aiden. What if he became trapped in the sunken wreck? What if he spent too much time trying to get the transmitter to work and didn't have enough air in his lungs left to swim back up to the surface. While she could for the moment deal with her own blindness, she was not in any condition to protect her and John from animals, bad weather, or natives.

She heard a splashing sound as Aiden dove into the lake. Now all she could do was wait.

-

John woke up to the now familiar sounds of the infirmary. While he had been out in his dream world, he had woken up in the real world again. This time, it had been strange. It had been the same hard stone ground and like always everything was shrouded in a deep blackness leaving him totally blind, but this time, he hadn't been cold. His clothes had been wait, but he could have sworn that he had felt sunlight on his skin. That was impossible; no sunlight ever reached his underground prison cell. He had also felt hands touching him. Normally hands touching him always resulted in pain and more drugs. Hands carried needles while other hands pinned him to the ground when he tried to fight back. The hands that had touched him this time hadn't carried any needles nor had they held him down. They had just been there and had held his hands while a soft murmur had carried through the air. Maybe all the drugs were slowly driving him over the edge. Maybe that was why his dreams were going so horribly wrong, Rodney's execution replayed in his mind in gruelling slow motion. He shook his head as if the motion would help remove the image from his mind.

Slowly he became more cognizant of his surrounding. He was in the infirmary, strapped down to a bed. The curtains were drawn around his bed, preventing him from seeing what was going on around him. Judging by the noise and the light levels it was day on Atlantis. He didn't have to wait long before he heard steps approach. The curtain parted and Dr. Beckett stepped up to his bedside. The doctor's usual friendly expression was replaced by a grin that John could only describe as evil. He was still trapped in the nightmarish world of his dream, John realized. Rodney was really dead. Even though Rodney had never been real and therefore hadn't really died, John missed him far more than he even liked to admit to himself. Rodney had been the only one who had stood by him even when everyone had turned against him.

"I presume you have finally learned your lesson. Play by the rules, John. Trust me, if it were up to me, you wouldn't get out of here for weeks." Beckett bent down and played with the restraints that bound John to the bed. "But sadly, that's not up to me. I only get to piece you together after that fool Rodney got you shot. I really didn't think you were stupid enough to follow him. He's delusional, has been since his twenties. Why do you think he never worked at the SGC and why they had him shipped of to Russia and now off to another galaxy? They wanted his genius, but wanted to put him somewhere safe at the same time. He's insane. Weir finally put him out of his misery."

John was stunned. This couldn't be. "You're lying. It's not Rodney's fault that I got shot, that was Bates and his trigger-happy gang of Marines. Rodney isn't insane!"

"I expected you wouldn't believe me. Have a look at his medical file." Beckett tossed a thick folder on the night stand. Before he went to undo the restraints on John's arms, he warned him: "Don't even think about fighting back. You still have stitches in your side and there are armed guards posted just outside. You won't get far."

John nodded, he had already planned to elbow the doctor in the face to make his escape, but he realised that he wouldn't get very far. For the moment, he had no choice but to play along and wait for his opportunity.

-

The frigid water came as a shock to his system after the heat on the surface. For a precious second he lost orientation, being stunned by the sudden change in temperature. He quickly focused back on his task. His memories had been correct, the ship rested not far beneath the surface of the shallow lake. Even in the murky water, it was easy to spot the entrance to the wreck through the broken front window of the cockpit of the ship. Inside visibility was more of a challenge. He didn't have a flashlight, having lost all of his gear in the crash, so he had to rely on his memory and his hands to guide him around the remnants of what had been the cockpit. He didn't have much time, he could already feel the need for oxygen tugging at his lungs when he finally found what was probably the transmitter. It seemed to be still in one piece, as he ran his hands over the metal surface, searching for a way to turn it on, hoping that it operating independently of the computer system. It would make sense that a transmitter would work even in the event of a catastrophic computer failure, but who knew what the builders of the vessel had been thinking. Ford's fingers found a button of some sort and he pressed down on it. He was rewarded by a red light, penetrating the murky blackness around him. That was it. He didn't have anymore time, the need for air was already leaving his lungs burning. Hastily, he pushed himself upwards, towards the faint light of the lakes surface. He was slightly light headed already and brushed by the burst window of the ship, not being able to sort out his movements properly as the surface suddenly seemed kilometres away. His muscles were tired and he noticed that suddenly his limbs seemed to be made of lead. The weight was threatening to pull him under, away from the vague light far above. Aiden closed his eyes, resigned to his fate. The burning in his lungs had long stopped by now. He felt at peace for the first time in ever since the mission to the market when John had been taken. This was how it was going to end. There had never been another way.

-

Dr. Weir was sitting in her office trying to map of likely planets for future missions. During their explorations of the city, scientists had recently found a sort of an Ancient library. Translations were going slow, but so far they had sound what seemed like a database a planets, listing their resource and inhabitants. Of course the data was vastly outdated, but still had served them as a rough guide and they had sent teams to two planets based on the database already and had found suitable land for agriculture along with edible native vegetation. There were several more planets on the list of entries that they had translated so far that had gotten her attention and were worth exploring. Even though she was excited by the find, she couldn't help her attention shifting to her primary exploration team which had been gone for four days by now. There had been two heated discussion about launching a second rescue mission, but no matter how much everyone wanted to get the team back. There were too many risks and too many unknowns. They would most likely be vastly outnumbered without knowing were the missing members were, if they were even still alive. Still, in spite of all the rational arguments, Dr. Weir felt that she had made the wrong choice not pursuing the matter further and sending a second time to at least gather intelligence on the situation on the pirates's planet. But she knew that Bates had been right, she would be risking more lives.

A knock on the door got her attention.

"Yes, come in." she answered. Dr. Grodin entered, looking excited. As soon as he had entered he started to speak.

" We are scanning the area for any unusual signals, just as you ordered. A few minutes ago, we started picking up a signal. We don't know what it means, it just repeats over and over again. Our current theory is that it is some form of a distress call. We have triangulated it's position, it's coming from a planet in the same solar system as the planet were Major Sheppard was being held prisoner. Dr. Zelenka believes he can work out the exact coordinates but it will take him a bit of time. I though you wanted to know immediately."

-

For a while there, Rodney had really managed to forget about the trouble he was really in. he had been talking to John, they had snarked at each other, they had laughed. They interacted like friends, regardless of the fact that John was a glowy figure which probably only existed in Rodney's mind. Rodney started to get tired and hopelessness started returning. The glowing figure of his friend had disappeared as had the image of his dead body, convincing Rodney even more that everything had just been a figment of his mind slowly shutting down. His usual response to doom was to give up. What had he been thinking, spending hours talking to himself, or rather to a hypothermia induced hallucination of a man for who's death he was probably responsible. He wasn't so sure about whether or not he had killed John or not. He had replayed the events so many times in his mind, in waking times, in dreams and in delusions. He could no longer tell the difference between what he really happened and what had only happened in his mind. It didn't matter anymore. Rodney pulled his knees closer, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard stone floor of the ruins he had sought shelter in. He was about the drift off, when a warm wind brushed over him and he heard a familiar voice.

"Rodney, Rodney, I know you are tired, but you can't give up. Rescue is on it's way They are coming to get up, but you to stay awake. You can't give up now. It's only a couple more hours. I'll stay with you as long as I can." John sounded positively like he was pleading.

Rodney tentatively opened his eyes. Glowy-John was back, illuminating the entire room. He wore a concerned expression as he looked down on Rodney. "Come on Rodney, don't give up. What would Atlantis do without your superior brain?"

"The others aren't that stupid. They'll manage." Rodney mumbled, closing his eyes again. He had never felt that tired in his entire life. All he wanted to do was sleep, as far as he was concerned, the world could end and he wouldn't care.

There was a pause before glowy-John spoke again.

"If you won't fight this for your sake or for Atlantis, will you try for me?" he spoke softly and Rodney barely heard the word.

"What difference does it make to you. You're already dead. Even better, you've ascended, you don't have to worry about us mere mortal anymore."

"John's not dead, I'm just a part of him. If you stay awake, I'll explain everything to you. But you have to promise me that you'll stay awake until help arrives. It won't be long. John is going to need you."

"He's really still alive?"

"He isn't in very good shape right now, but he's alive.

Rodney was immensely relieved. He still wasn't sure whether all this was real or just another, more elaborate illusion, but he decided to believe glowy-John. It was not like he had anything left to lose.

TBC