It's chapter 2 – let the whumpage begin in earnest :)

I'll be honest here and admit I've got no idea where I'm going with this one – it started from a very simple concept and from there on in I'm pretty much making it up as I go along.

I can't wait to find out what's going to happen next! –Grin-

As ever, please read and review and let me know your thoughts...


The pain was waiting for me when I woke up.

My head was throbbing, a heavy, hot pain pulsing at the base of my skull. My shoulder was on fire, burning with a sharp pain that spiked, hot and angry, down my arm and up the side of my neck. As consciousness returned, I became aware that I was seated and that my arms were pulled back behind me, something coarse and scratchy wrapped tight around my wrists, holding them in place. The position really did nothing for the pain in my shoulder.

I realised groggily that I was leaning forward, putting further strain on my shoulder, my head hanging heavily. I struggled to lift my head and couldn't help a small groan as the throbbing pain kicked up a notch, making my head spin dizzily.

"Colonel!"

McKay's voice, tight with barely-controlled panic mixed with a hint of relief.

I got my head upright on my shoulders, still feeling as though the room was rotating around me, and risked cracking open an eye. Bright light stabbed into my retina and I cringed, screwing my eyes shut.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

Okay, Teyla was here too. Wherever here was.

I kept my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to subside a little.

"Ronon?" My voice sounded about how I felt – rough as hell.

"I'm here, Sheppard."

Hey, hey, the gang's all here. I felt a rush of relief.

"You guys okay?" My head was swimming a little less now.

"No, we're not!"

"We are.. well enough"

As usual, Rodney's voice was raised in indignation where Teyla's was calm and considered. The comforting familiarity of that made me smile briefly.

I decided to risk a second go at opening my eyes. This time I squinted against the light and let my eyes slowly adjust and, gradually, my surroundings came into focus. It wasn't an inspiring sight. The room was plain; bare, stone walls and no windows, brightly lit from an overhead light source. I turned my head gingerly to the right and found Ronon slouched defiantly on a plain wooden chair, his long legs stretched carelessly out in front of him, his arms pulled back, obviously also tied together behind the chair back. He looked uncomfortable but not injured, more angry than anything.

"Sheppard." His tone of voice spoke volumes of frustration and growing rage. I had a moment's sympathy for anyone who was unlucky enough to cross Ronon's path after he got loose from here.

Teyla greeted me with a solemn nod from her chair to Ronon's right. Familiar posture, arms pulled back behind the chair. And that left... I turned carefully to the left, still wary of aggravating the throbbing pain in my skull, to find Rodney, his face pale and set, his arms stretched back around the chair.

"You okay, Rodney?"

"Oh yes, just fine thanks!" he snapped acidly. "Being kidnapped by goons with guns is fun for me!" His sharp words didn't quite mask the note of fear in his voice. I realised belatedly that both Rodney's and Teyla's tac vests were missing and a quick glance down at myself confirmed the diagnosis. Our captors, whoever they were, had taken our vests and weapons – even my thigh holster was missing.

This really sucked. My right arm was starting to go numb and I wondered how long I had been out, just how long we'd been tied up in these chairs. I tried to sit up a little straighter and sucked in a rapid breath as the movement sent pain shooting down my arm. Shit. For a moment, spots danced before my eyes. My arm sure wasn't feeling numb anymore.

"Colonel?" There was a quaver to McKay's voice, panic bubbling just under the surface. I bit down on the pain, trying to concentrate. We were in a bad situation here. I gritted my teeth and twisted as far as I could to look over my shoulder. Nothing new there. Same stone walls, no windows. The room was small, only one door in the wall facing us. I wondered if whoever had stripped us of our weapons had found the knife strapped to Teyla's calf.. or any of the many blades hidden about Ronon's person.

I took a moment to properly assess my various aches and pains. Aside from the obvious – bleeding gunshot wound in my shoulder and a headache the size of Mount Everest thanks to some over-enthusiastic lackey trying to crack my skull open – my arms ached from being twisted at an awkward angle and my hands felt slightly numb and tingly; the coarse material – rope? – that chafed at my wrists was obviously tight enough to be restricting circulation. I gave my wrists an experimental pull and for my trouble got an angry response from skin rubbed raw by the rope and a jolt of pained protest from my shoulder. No give whatsoever in the bindings on my wrists. Other than that my butt felt kinda numb, like I'd been sitting in the same position for a good while. Just how long had I been tied to this damn chair, anyway?

"How long've I been out?" My head felt like someone had jumped up and down on it a few times.

"Coupla hours." Ronon's response was short and succinct, as ever, his tone matter of fact. Two hours? Shit. I looked to Teyla for confirmation and saw in her face the evidence of hours worth of frustration and concern. I imagined how I would be feeling right now if I'd spent the last hour and more tied to a chair, with one of my team injured and me not able to do a damn thing about it, not even check to see that they were ok. I suddenly had a better understanding of Ronon's gently seething fury.

I pushed my anger aside. That wasn't going to help us right now. We needed to start looking for a way out of this.

"Anyone have any idea what's going on here?"

Heads shaking all around. "They have not spoken to us since our capture," Teyla explained. "We were brought here under armed guard; we have seen no-one since then."

"D'you know where this place is, where they brought us?"

Ronon shook his head, dreadlocks bouncing. "They blindfolded us."

Dammit. Okay, think John. 2 hours - and from the feel of things we've been tied to these chairs for a good while. So.. moving on foot, with three blindfolded prisoners and one unconscious, they can't have taken us far. Definitely not off-planet; blindfolded or not, the others would have noticed a trip through the gate. We'd been due back at Atlantis approximately an hour or so from the time of the ambush so that put us one hour overdue already. Probably another hour or so at least before anyone would really start to worry.. as far as we knew this planet was low-tech and peaceful, nothing to get too concerned about. And when they did miss us they'd send a team to check up on us and they'd find.. what? A smiling, friendly village who'd last seen us waving goodbye as we headed back to the gate.

I cursed.

We had no idea who had captured us, or why.

"Teyla, Ronon, either of you guys still got a.."

I was interrupted by a sudden scraping noise, like a bolt being drawn back, and, with no more warning than that, the single door swung open.

The man who entered the room was of medium height, with dark hair and cold eyes. Hello, Mr Mystery Voice. He was followed by a couple of goons, big muscular types who looked plenty intimidating enough even without the guns they were pointing at us. I was kinda thinking that was exactly why our host had brought them along.

I'm not very good at being intimidated.

"Good afternoon," I smiled chattily, feigning a nonchalance I didn't feel, "or is it evening already? It's kinda hard to tell in here."

Mr Mystery Voice regarded me silently with those cold eyes, not a flicker of reaction on his face. Whoah. Tough crowd.

I met that cold gaze with one of my own and let the levity drop from my voice. I was done playing around here. "You wanna tell me what the hell this is all about?"

That got a reaction. The briefest flicker of a smile. Not good. Not good at all. I was starting to get that bad feeling again – real bad. He was enjoying this. He liked keeping us in the dark, not knowing why this was happening to us. And that significantly lowered the odds that this was any kind of misunderstanding or disagreement that we could negotiate our way out of. There was an agenda here and I didn't have a clue what it was – only that it did not bode well for me and my team.

"Lt. Colonel John Sheppard." The same voice that I'd heard over the radio; smooth, confident, uncompromising. He regarded me with that same hidden amusement, his gaze flicking quickly over the other members of my team before returning to me.

"And who might you be?" I asked, unable to keep an edge of sarcasm out of my voice.

Mystery Voice gave a tiny nod and one of his goons stepped forward, holstering his gun. I had about a second to brace myself before he ploughed his fist into my gut, sending the air rushing from my lungs in an agonised gasp. My body tried instinctively to curl up around the hurt, my shoulder screaming in pain as the ropes at my wrists pulled, keeping me pinned to the back of the chair. I tried desperately to suck in air, my lungs burning, and my vision began to gray out on me. I was vaguely aware of cries of protest from my team and a sudden scuffling to my right.

I forced myself to breathe through the pain, to pull in oxygen despite the protestations of abused muscles. I was caught between conflicting needs; wanting to curl forward to relieve the sharp aching in my gut, needing to lean backwards to prevent the angry pain of the pull on my shoulder. My breath came in a harsh pant that sounded loud in my ears.

When my vision cleared and I had the strength to look up he was standing over me, a small smile on his face, secure in his dominance. He looked away and I followed his gaze to see goon number 2 with a gun to Ronon's forehead. The Satedan was straining forward in his chair, his face bared in a snarl of fury. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a shallow gash above his left eye. I could guess what had happened. Right now that gun was the only thing stopping Ronon from killing the guard, tied-up or not. From the look on his face, the goon knew it too.

Our host crouched down in front of me, putting himself at eye level, bringing my attention back to him. I concentrated on controlling my breathing, swallowing down on the pain, unwilling to give the bastard the satisfaction.

"My name is not important, Colonel." The cold eyes were alive now, shining with a sadistic pleasure that was more dangerous than any gun. "All you need to know is that you and your team are going to be my guests.. for the foreseeable future."


TBC...