A/N: Commence with the excitement. In five... four... three... two...

19

" Oh you've gotta be kidding me!" John gaped. " How the freakin' hell did they get in on this?"

Kace exhaled slowly through pursed lips. " Oohh, long story that would be better told in picture form. But from what I gathered – and I'm still reeling over this one – Morel contacted them."

Blow number two that John's mind automatically refused to except, leaving him blinking incomprehensibly. " What?"

Kace held up both hands and shook his head. " No questions, just listen since I don't know how much time we have. You were a much desired asset, Shep, after it came to Morel's knowledge – thanks to a planet they used to trade with nearly wiped out in a culling not that long ago – that wraith were about. They knew you could light up Ancestor gizmos – heard the rumor about it or something like that, which doesn't matter – and got a little overexcited when you crashed landed in their back yard. Hence; the immediate torture. Morel had left the 'convincing'," Kace quirked his fingers into quotation mark shape when he said this, " up to Harl since being keeper of a prison gave him experience with breaking people down into being good little puppets. Then you escaped, another trading planet was culled, and Morel panicked. He set the whole kidnapping up but – and get this – not simply to get you back, but to get the whole lot of you."

McKay visibly paled. " What!"

As did Elizabeth, who took an uncertain step forward. " All of us?"

Kace nodded. " Morel may not be all that bright considering what he's just done, but he isn't stupid. He knew you all would come to negotiate for help in getting your people back. And no, he doesn't know you're the real leader, Doc Weir, but in the long run it doesn't matter. Just like he knew Shep could make all the shinys light, by the same methods he knew the wraith had it in deep for you Lanteans. His plan was to make a deal with the wraith – a bunch of Lanteans in exchange for the wraith to skip over their world like a bad restaurant. Long story short, he got desperate, and actually contacted the wraith using the ship Shep crash-landed in. So they're coming here, time not exact though Morel had put it between today and tomorrow according to what the wraiths' response was. And since we're all quite aware about how well deals with the wraith go, I might suggest that we forgo playing nice, bust your people out of jail, and hightail it off this rock before the real festivities commence."

McKay raised a nervous hand. " I'm with the mind reader on this."

" Me too," Ronon jumped in, though John was perfectly certain his vote stemmed more from the jail-break suggestion.

John looked over at Dr. Weir, who nodded.

" We don't have much of a choice in the matter," she said. Story of their Atlantean life as far as John was concerned.

John jerked his head in the direction of the still-cloaked jumper. " Let's go then."

Jumper one decloaked for all of them to board, Weir first, followed by McKay, then the others. John stopped, forcing Ronon and the marine behind him to suddenly halt in return.

" Wait," John said, struck cold by sudden thought. " What about the people here?"

McKay turned to give him a pale, impatient look. " What about them?"

John narrowed his eyes. " Look, Morel and Harl might be pond scum, that doesn't mean their people are." His thoughts flicked like lightening back to a girl sifting through Kace's bag of goodies, looking at Sheppard with sympathy behind usually hardened eyes, and a tunnel to salvation she had let them use. " The wraith are going to cull this planet, deal or no deal, and the people here don't deserve being put on the menu just because their leader's a moron."

Elizabeth, folding her arms over her chest as though cold, gave John that look that expressed sympathy but said plainly ' be prepared for me to say no'. " What can we do about it?"

Sheppard threw up both arms in exasperation. " Warn them! Spread the word, give them a head start in evacuating off the planet."

" Everyone?" Elizabeth asked. " Would they even believe us? They would go to Morel first, and you know what he'll do. Assure them that everything is fine. The fact that he hasn't already evacuated his people says as much."

John shook his head vehemently. He didn't believe in futility, that said and done was said and done with nothing left to accomplish. They had time as long as the soonest the wraith arrived was late afternoon. This planet had the opportunity to save itself and like hell John could deny them that. Like hell he could let Morel kill off his own people in the name of pride and panic. " We don't know that. We can't honestly leave these people to the wraith..."

" You don't have to," Kace jumped in, leaning out of the jumper with one hand clinging to the rim. " You're going to have to go into Harl's to get your people, and as fortune would have it, that oversized hut contains a room normally used to make mass announcements throughout the whole city and then some, plus happens to have a switch that when flicked sets off alarms that'll get the people scurrying into the tunnels. Morel, Harl, and several other officials have these switches but you only need to set off one. The trick is to make sure it keeps going, because as long as it's on, the people'll stay hidden."

John reared his head back in surprise. Kace was deftly shoving McKay aside from his position as answer man. " And they'll be safe in the tunnels?"

" If they're smart enough to go into the tunnels. It's tradition to talk about going into the tunnels when the alarms go off, but these people haven't had a drill in a couple of decades."

" Even with the wraith waking early?" Weir asked.

" They haven't been attacked yet. Not on the wraith route, I guess. But Morel was more interested with finding a weapon than relying on the tunnels. And Harl, of course, more interested in saving his own hide. So folks are going to be a little rusty about the tunnels. More than likely they'll just hide in them rather than using them to escape. The tunnels should do the trick. Part of the tradition is knowing their location, that much I know from my friend Sereeka."

" Do you know where this switch is located?"

Kace grinned that reassuring, self-confident grin of his. " I can certainly find out."

Weir released a drawn out breath, hesitating in that split second to give herself a moment of thought. Finally, with jaw set, she gave a curt nod. " All right. So how are we going to pull this off? The less bloodshed the better, and we can't give Harl any time to call in reinforcements or move the hostages."

John cleared his throat uneasily. " Um... I have a plan."

Every eye turned his way, but it was Elizabeth's gaze he felt trying to burn a hole through him.

" Really?" she said, and with that 'I'm not going to like this' expression that made chills disperse outward from John's spine.

John shifted uncomfortably, and decided to just state the obvious. " Yeah, really. Though... you're probably not going to like it..." Too bad, though. He'd had this plan thought out from the beginning, just in case, and now – apparently – for what had become the inevitable.

Weir cocked an eyebrow. " I already don't."

SGA

" Never thought I'd actually be walking back to this place voluntarily," Kace said beside Sheppard. The telepath was wearing an Atlantis jacket and vest – both John's – with the hood pulled up to stay off immediate recognition (had Harl locked Kace's face away in memory, but something told John it was doubtful.)

John, seemingly restrained by both Kace and Lorne keeping a grip on Sheppard's arms, would have felt next to naked in only the black long sleeved shirt that did absolutely nothing to hide how toothpick thin he was -no vest and no jacket - but the knife in the leather sheath hidden within his pants at the hip (courtesy of Ronon) made him want to grin. " You didn't have to come. We told you that."

" And I'm grateful you give a man his agency, but I've got friends on this world I'd rather not see sucked into dry, bony husks. You understand."

" Oh, completely."

" Will you two can it!" McKay hissed. " We're getting closer, so stop acting nice, Sheppard start acting pissed or scared or whatever, and let's get this over with."

McKay was keeping pace behind Ronon, who was on 'guard' behind Sheppard. The Satedan was absent one leather coat traded for a hooded jacket. Teyla, McKay, and the three marines surrounding them were identical in dress with hoods hiding their features. It wasn't perfect (Kace and Ronon weren't exactly fitted for BDUs being as tall as they were, so retaining their pants) but if what John had in mind worked, it wouldn't matter. Everyone of the Harl residence would be too distracted to take notice of minor apparel differences.

John's heart beat fast with the house in sight and getting nearer. If he stood any more rigid, he was certain his spine would snap, and the tension wracked him with minor tremors.

He was scared, but a manageable scared since he was also pissed. The leaders of this world were idiots; completely selfish, heartless, SOB idiots. There was no justification for what Morel and Harl was doing. Pompous freakin' windbags were yanking Armageddon down around their ears and yet kept on yanking. They'd made an enemy of Atlantis, had called on the wraith – the complete lack of intelligence staggered John. If it wasn't for the rest of the inhabitants, John would have merrily left the two stooges to their self-provoked fate.

On reaching the door, Lorne gripped the knocker and slammed it four times against the door. The sound rumbled like distant thunder on the other side. John swallowed without saliva, and clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palm.

" Easy Shep," Kace whispered.

Lorne knocked again, harder and five times. Several rapid heartbeats later, the door moaned open to Harls' stringy, nervous drudge. John didn't recall the servant personally, but the little man certainly seemed to remember John by the way his eyes tried to bug out of his skull. He sputtered rather than spoke, pointing at John with a knobby, arthritic looking finger.

Major Lorne took an inch step forward. " Where's Harl?" he demanded, laying the acid thick on his words. " We got what he wants. Time to give us what we want."

The drudge nodded shakily. " O-o-of course. Please, wait here..." He started to shut the door, but Kace's hand shot out to stop it.

" I don't think so," Kace said.

" How about you just take us to him," Lorne said.

The drudge wasted another few seconds with more stuttering until he finally bowed his head and stepped back for the others to enter. The Lanteans filed in and drudge led the way through gut-wrenching familiar corridors. Cold filled John starting from the pit of his clenching stomach and radiating outward. He fought not to cringe, and found that by averting his eyes to the floor it helped keep the need to vomit at bay. Images flashed – painful ones – and deja vu hit him with the force of a freight train, tilting his reality so that for a brief moment he believed himself back in Harl's bad graces, going in for another game of refusal and abuse.

Heavy, clomping footsteps forced John to look up, and he immediately pulled back, stumbling, his heart rocketing into his throat. Gorek was moving toward them, flanked and followed by eight other uniformed thugs, and Gorek's gaze was laser sighted on John.

" Easy Shep. Be calm," Kace hissed. His grip on John's arm tightened, halting the subconscious action of the Colonel's hand attempting to go for the knife in his waist band.

Both sides halted, both staring eachother down, and after a long moment of tense silence that could have snapped at a sigh, Lorne moved to be slightly forward and in front of John.

" Where's Harl?" He demanded.

Gorek's gaze never even twitched from John. The stare he gave the Colonel was unreadable, until John caught the the minuscule quirk at the corner of the big man's mouth. Again Kace's grip tightened when John tried to move his own arm.

" You've brought him," Gorek said, amused. " Guess that proves Lanteans aren't as dumb as we thought. Please leave your weapons here and follow us."

The pain of disarming was made evident by the identical expressions of anger, especially on Ronon's face. The soldiers took the weapons, patting down the Lanteans for any that might be hidden. Gorek searched John personally, and was none too gentle about it, but Ronon's skills at placing concealed weaponry kept Gorek from finding the knife. When finished, he grabbed John's upper arm, squeezing hard enough to leave a mark for later. He tried to jerk John out of Lorne's and Kace's grasp, only to have both men jerk back.

" Uh-uh," Lorne said. " Not yet. You get him when we get our people back. Now take us to Harl."

Gorek finally let the smirk show, but his eyes flashed with fury. He said nothing, just turned and led the way with goons surrounding the Lanteans. John knew from fragmented memory growing more potent by the second where they were going. Harl's office, the one Kace had ransacked. They stopped before the door where Gorek knocked then entered. After two minutes, he opened the door and signaled the others in. Harl was sitting behind his desk, but rose and moved around to stand before it, wide eyed and brow furrowed.

" You- you brought him..." he breathed. He began wringing his hands, and his lips started creeping upward toward a smile.

John stared at this bald little man, right in the eyes. His heart thundered in his chest, and blood roared in his ears, boiling with magma hot hatred that made his clenched fists shake with the torturous desire to strike out, if not with knife then at least with his fist. It was a desire that made his whole body shudder and ache, sharpening the rage that he focused on, using it like fuel to sum up the energy he was going to need very soon.

" You brought him," Harl breathed again, and moved forward. " You actually brought him." He stopped in front of John, looking him over, and the scrutiny made John's flesh crawl.

" Yeah, we brought him," Lorne spat. " So time to live up to your end of the bargain. Now where the hell are our people?"

Harl didn't appear to be listening, intent on John as he was. He reached out, placing his hand against the side of John's face. John pulled away with a sneer of disgust, but Harl kept up with being touchy/feely. He moved John's head for a view of both sides of his face, then stuck his knuckles into John's jaw, forcing his head up.

" Looks as though he's regained quite a bit of his strength," he said, sounding and looking mildly disappointed.

" Our people," Lorne pressed. " Then he's all yours."

Harl finally pulled his eyes away to look Lorne. " That simple? I did not expect such immediate give to our demand."

Lorne tilted his head toward John. " He agreed to it."

Grinning like a drugged cat, Harl looked back to John. " Did you now?"

John shrugged. " One life or many lives. Not exactly hard math there."

Harl nodded, still, apparently, not fully listening. His eyes went wide again, and he held up a single finger. " Wait. You'll get your people back, but I have one more request. But do not worry, it is a small one."

Harl went to one of the many shelves, and pulled down John's 'favorite' device – that round ball. He hurried over, then held it out to John, eyes wild and teeth flashing through his smile.

" Make it work," he commanded. " Then your people will be freed."

John couldn't suppress the bitter smirk. He'd seen this coming the moment he stepped through the door. He pulled both arms from Lorne and Kace, and reached out, taking the object into both hands. It lit up like Christmas lights around the middle, and warmth increased in the palm of John's shaking hands.

Deja vu was hammering him into the ground. History truly did like to repeat itself.

Might as well play along with it, then. He glanced, looking as uncertain and nervous as he could possibly make himself, to Lorne then Kace. Their return looks spoke without words, and John moved his head almost imperceptibly in a nod.

John licked dry lips. " It's doing something."

Harl brightened like a kid on his birthday about to open presents. " What? What is it doing?"

" This," and John hurled the thing at Gorek. The metal ball smashed him in the face, knocking him down, and in the same instant John whipped out the knife while grabbing Harl by the collar of his robe, hauling him around to have the bald man against his chest and the large knife at the bald man's throat.

" Don't move!" John snarled, and his body went from trembling with anger to trembling with glee, heart beating in uncontained joy at Harl's own shuddering and his gasps of terror. John tightened his arm across Harl's shoulders, and pressed the blade in closer to the jugular. " So much as sneeze in a way I don't like and it'll be your boss' blood being cleaned off the floor."

" No!" Harl whimpered.

The goons lowered their weapons, and the Lanteans took them.

" Into the corner," John said. The guards shuffled over to pack themselves into the corner of the room. John started off the careful retreat from the room.

" McKay, grab that round thing."

" Why?" McKay said, gun in one hand and LSD in the other.

" Trust me, it may come in handy."

McKay grabbed it with a grimace when he glanced at Gorek's blood smeared face, and brought his pack around to shove it inside. The Lanteans backed out of the room, with Ronon last to close the doors. A marine pulled out some nylon rope to wrap through the handles, locking the guards inside.

" It won't hold 'em for long once Gorek wakes up and takes the secret exit out," Kace said.

Harl gaped. " How do you..." but was cut off by the increase of pressure on the knife.

" None of your business," John snapped, and relished being able to. He shoved Harl to another marine, who deftly yanked the bald man's arms behind his back to tie them off with more nylon.

John slipped the knife back into the hidden sheath and took the gun offered to him by Lorne.

" All right, phase two time," John said. " Kace, go with Ronon, Lorne and McAllister to that room you were talking about. McKay, go with them in case things end up being a lot more technical than they should be. The rest of us'll head to the prisons. Keep in radio contact at all times, and when finished head back to the jumper unless otherwise told."

" You sure about this?" Rodney said. The man didn't hide fear well, but it was different from the arrogant veiled fear John was used to seeing. In fact, it wasn't so much fear John was seeing, but worry, worry aimed at Sheppard, and momentarily mirrored by Ronon also looking at him.

" As sure as I'm going to get. Now move. We don't have a lot of time here."

SGA

Elizabeth leaned with both hands on the head rest of the copilot chair. Listening to the cacophony of voices over the com was like listening to one of those old fashioned radio programs minus a narrator to fill in the details. Every shout, garbled multi-conversation, and sudden non-voice related noise had her heart leaping hurdles that took her breath with it.

Why did I agree to this? Why, why, why the hell did I agree to this? Because the plan had merit, and because of the desperate look on John's face. His trepidation as he had explained his idea was hard to miss. No, trepidation wasn't the right word - John had looked all out afraid. But his resolve had outweighed his fear, keeping him standing straight and able to stare Elizabeth straight in the eye as he talked. Fear could pour from him like a downpour, it didn't mean he was going to give into it. And thus far, hearing him over the com, it was very much the old Sheppard, with the situation in his control.

But that was only thus far, with a ways still to go, and sudden shifts in the voices and noise trying to get Weir's skin to jump off her bones. As much as Sheppard sounded in control, that could easily change. Concerning his mentality, she wasn't as concerned. No reason to be according to everything she was hearing. John physically was another matter

" Sheppard to Jumper one," came John's voice over the come. " We've secured Harl. Are on our way to get our people and set off the alarm."

" We read you, Colonel," Elizabeth replied. " How long do you think it'll take?"

" Probably not much longer. Fifteen, twenty minutes tops give or take. Maybe less as long as Mr. Harl is willing to cooperate. You willing to cooperate, Chief Judge?"

John's tone was like venom, and Elizabeth caught what sounded like a whimper. She'd been hasty about setting aside worry for John's mental state.

" John, just... try not to do anything you'll regret later."

" What's that supposed to mean?" John asked, sounding pissed.

" Don't kill Harl."

" Wasn't planning to. Well, not unless the situation calls for it. Doesn't call for it, does it Harl?"

Again came another whimper then a stuttered no. And since Weir heard no voices of protest coming from the others, felt it safe to say that John was just getting his revenge kicks by scaring the crap out of Harl.

Elizabeth wished she could see it. Selfish tormentor cowering away under the arctic glare of malice from the tormented. The physical didn't really matter, it was the mind within the pale and thin body that mattered. Cunning, dangerous – had John remained emaciated, even lost a limb or two, he'd still come off as threatening. Harl was learning that the hard way, and a smile lifted up at the corner of Elizabeth's lips.

" Just be careful and hurry back," Elizabeth said.

" All part of the plan." And Elizabeth pictured clearly his lop-sided smirk.

SGA

Kace was far superior to any life signs detector, and allowed McKay to pocket the device, enabling him to get a better handle on the gun slightly larger than a nine mil. They moved at a fast walk through a maze of corridors, pausing when Kace paused, ducking into doorways or behind corners when he raised a hand and waved them back. They avoided the sentries for a good while until one particular intersection became a road block when two of the sentries decided to stop for a chat with eachother. Their murmuring echoed hollowly down the hall, droning on and on, interrupted by the occasional chuckle or sigh.

The droning, and time slipping like water through their fingers, was grating McKay's nerves. It was Ronon, however, who snapped with impatience first, lifting his gun, whipping around the corner, and stunning the two gossips with two quick blasts.

McKay tossed up his arms as the rest of the team joined Ronon. " Thank you!"

Kace chuckled, patting Ronon on the shoulder before passing to retake the lead. " I like your style, friend Dex. What say we proceed your way. Hell of a lot faster."

They resumed their semi-jog down the corridor decorated in tapestries and some kind of black, plastic looking armor.

" How much farther?" Lorne asked.

Kace pointed ahead. " Just up these steps and to the right."

They jogged up, only to have Kace slow, then stop, tilting his head to the side as though listening. " Friend Dex, I believe this is your party."

Ronon moved around Kace to the top, just in time to blast off a stun with the thud of a fallen body following. Kace waved for the rest to follow, but let Ronon take the lead. The hallway they entered was far smaller and massively more narrow than the corridors downstairs, with thick, colorful carpeting instead of veined stone floors. They moved right with footsteps muffled from taps to barely audible thumps as they passed door after door. Kace stopped before wide double doors that he quickly yanked open. Inside was equipment straight out of a cheesy 1940s style science fiction flick, cluttered in small switches and blinking lights.

McKay narrowed his eyes. " Oh you can't be serious."

Kace moved to the over sized circuit board on the left, and slapped his hand on the control panel. " Here it is. Think you can work it, Doc McKay?"

Rodney shouldered past Lorne and the other marine, moving his gun to his other hand. " A five year old can work it." He looked the control panel over, and flipped a small, metallic switch. Several red and blue lights blinked on, and McKay strained his ears into the silence, catching the distant rising and falling howl not unlike tornado sirens (McKay knew after having had the unfortunate luck of staying overnight in Kansas during tornado season.)

Rodney clapped his hands together and rubbed them. " All right, then. People warned, world saved, mission accomplished. Can we go now?"

" Gladly," Kace said. They hurried from the room with Lorne last to shut the doors and slap on what McKay could only describe as some sort of high-tech handcuffs onto the handles.

" That should keep them out for a good while," he said.

" Good," Kace said, once again leading the way, but this time in a full out run, " because the bruiser squad is already heading our way."

SGA

Sheppard wanted to be the one pressing the gun into Harl's back, marching him out ahead in the direction of the prison. But he couldn't trust to his strength, or his mind, and had to keep reminding himself of this with jaw clenched and anger burning hot through his body. He controlled the anger by letting himself enjoy the satisfaction of watching Harl tremble as John had once trembled right before the little man had torn his back up with a metal switch.

Little man. That little, cowardly, selfish, brainless man. Big muscled goons gave him brawn, but without them he was nothing but a mouse, a flea, a freakin' amoeba. Tense muscles pulled the knitting skin on Sheppard's back, the cloth of his shirt catching scabs of the larger, fresher wounds slow to heal thanks to infection. Ribs twinged, not painfully, or even uncomfortably, just always reminding him. And his arm, still cocooned in a cast. Harl hadn't broken his arm, but he'd broken his mind, the madness leading to the breaking of bone. Harl hadn't been present but he'd still managed to ensure Sheppard got tortured. And for what? Ancient toys, toys that didn't do jack except go all sparkly. The good stuff was the big stuff – chairs, jumpers, Atlantis itself – not toys. The small stuff had their moments, but they sure as hell wouldn't be taking down any hive ships any time soon.

The prison wasn't that far, and with most of the downstairs patrol locked in Harl's office, no resistance was met. The two guards on either side of the bar-windowed door exchanged looks on spying their gibbering boss' approach surrounded by armed visitors. The gaze exchange was as far as they got when Teyla zapped both with a wraith stunner courtesy of Harl's collection. Both men crumpled like stringless puppets to the floor, and the second marine snatched up the keys to the cell from one of the guards' belt. Unlocking the door produced a clunking sound, opening it a thunk, both making John involuntarily flinch.

But it was the stench – urine and unwashed bodies rising up like an invisible mist to slip through John's nostrils – that made his stomach finally tie and tighten into an impossible knot. He shuddered, and couldn't stop his body's reaction.

The first marine, Lt. Mercer, jabbed Harl with the gun, prodding him forward down the winding stairs. The second marine, Lt. Jones, followed. John was about to go in after when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. He glanced back into the tight, worried face of Teyla.

" Will you be all right?" she asked, sympathetic to the soul.

John swallowed and smiled a sincere smile of gratitude. " I've gotten this far... Might as well face the rest of the beast."

He stepped through the door, and followed the winding steps deeper into the scent cesspool. Groans, shouts, and raucous conversation rose up like a building tide. The two young marines were already at the second door with Lt. Jones hovering over the fat warden menacingly until the clank and thump put a damper on the prison noise level. Again, John flinched, and his heart hammered in an adrenaline rush of fear and anticipation, his body tense as a bowstring in excitement over the ultimate form of sticking it to the man by waltzing in with his abuser held hostage and prisoners about to be released.

The moment the door opened, Teyla and Lt. Jones rushed in, Harl, Lt. Mercer, the fat Warden and Sheppard following after. Teyla and Lt. Jones rushed down the line of cells peering in each. The noise was deafening with prisoners shouting and tossing food and who knew what else at Harl and the warden, and a few whistling or shouting at Teyla.

" Do you see 'em!" John shouted above the roar. Teyla rushed back up the cells, shaking her head, and Lt. Jones shrugged.

" Don't see them in any of the cells, sir," Jones said.

John's excitement was quick to get knocked aside by fury. Cocking the gun, he surged forward and pressed the business end to Harl's temple.

" Where are they?" he said, flat, cold, and barely controlled. At that moment, that single moment, John had never wanted to shoot anyone more in his life than he wanted to shoot Harl, not even Koyla. He barely breathed, his heart barely beat, as numb filled his body to smother all sensation, all thought, except for that single and all consuming desire. It would be easy; pull, bang, splat, dead. So easy...

And Harl knew this, saw the desire in Sheppard's eyes, and knew without a doubt that Sheppard was going to kill him. Harl cringed, sputtering, whimpering, tears rolling down his face like rain. John's rage boiled into disgust, and the desire dissipated like water on dry sand. Harl really was pathetic, absolutely pathetic, and weak. Killing him would be a waste, nothing more than an act of revenge, cold blooded and pointless, and Sheppard wasn't a cold-blooded killer. Death was an unpleasant necessity when lives were at stake, when the world was narrowed down to to heat of the moment, kill or be killed so don't think about it times in the heart of battle. This wasn't one of those times. Harl was a threat to no one except himself, and no way was John going to bring himself to this coward's level just for the sake of revenge. He was a better man than that.

John never did like death anyways.

But he kept the gun to Harl's head, and kept the anger pouring out by the gallon, stoking the fury to keep up its blaze in his eyes. Harl kept up the stream of inane chatter that John deciphered to be pleads for his life. John pressed the gun in harder.

" Where – are – they," John ground out.

" Y-You – you wouldn't," Harl gasped. John tilted his head to the side, the numb creeping back over him, shrinking the world until it was just him and Harl. No, he wouldn't shoot Harl, but he'd gladly settle for knocking a dent into the little man's skull.

" Think about that carefully Harl. Think about who's got the gun to your head..." With his other hand, the casted one, he lifted his shirt, flashing still visible ribs, fading bruises, healed and partially healed wounds that would leave vivid scars. " I never paid you back for your hospitality," he spat, and lowered the shirt to hide the remnants of abuse on his body. " Now seems like a good time." He pressed the gun in even harder until Harl nearly stumbled sideways trying to lean away from it.

" All right, all right! D-don't, please don't!" he sobbed. " Th-there is another cell... Frun, show them."

The fat warden shuffled timidly forward, all the way to the end of the hall with Teyla and Lt. Jones following close behind. Furn pushed in a stone block with a shaking hand. There was a clank, then part of the wall shifted and slid away. Teyla peered inside, then glanced over her shoulder, smiling.

" They are here!" she said, then stepped aside as the wayward team emerged, Stackhouse exiting first looking filthy, tired, but otherwise unharmed. He blinked raising a hand against the glaring light, then hurried up to Colonel Sheppard, saluting.

" Sir...!"

" At ease Sargent. How is everyone? Anyone hurt?"

Stackhouse shook his head. " No sir. Except Corporal Sanders..."

" Safe at home, Sargent. So less talk, more escaping. Let's go."

John grabbed Harl by the collar of his robe and shoved him back into Lt. Mercer's clutches. With Harl acting as a shield by being prodded forward first, the rest followed, John eying each soldier and scientist as they passed to assess their condition at a glance. Dirty, relieved, but none apparently tired to the point of collapse. John was about to follow when Teyla's hand gripping his arm almost painfully stopped him. He whirled around, staring into her pale, terrified face.

John's heart sank fast. He knew that look.

" Oh hell no. No freakin' way..."

Teyla swallowed. " The wraith... They are here."

SGA

A/N: I do love them twists. And don't worry, Kace won't be replacing Rodney as the answer man.

The only setback to fanfiction is fighitng the urge to totally do your own thing. So I must keep saying to myself - " I will not give Sheppard magical powers, I will not give Sheppard magical powers, I will not give Sheppard magical powers... unless I find some plausible, canon way to do so." Thank goodness I got turning him to a dragon out of my system... or have I?