A/N: Thank you all so much for your feedback. I'm glad you like this so far. Now that I've thoroughly cornered our dear Colonel, let's see if we can get him some help...

A hand on his shoulder stopped Sheppard dead in his tracks.

"Where do you think ye're going, lad?" Beckett's Scottish brogue was thick.

"Offworld," Sheppard said irritably. Where had Beckett even come from?

"Not without my permission, ye're not," Beckett replied sternly. "I have nah yet cleared ye for active duty. Ye're going nowhere before I've examined ye."

As if someone had suddenly turned up the volume, Sheppard heard the commotion in the gate room. McKay and Dr. Weir seemed to be arguing about something, though he couldn't make out what they were saying exactly.

"We don't have time for this, Carson," McKay complained loudly. "There are at least four hive ships heading for Atlantis."

Dr. Weir's voice was a lot more diplomatic. "I'm sure, Dr. Beckett understands the seriousness of the situation. He won't be keeping the Colonel for long." That last part almost sounded like an order addressed at Beckett.

The doctor didn't waver. "Aye, I know this is a serious situation. But my assessment of Colonel Sheppard's health will take as long as it takes." His jaw was firmly set and though he didn't right out say that he outranked any other member of this expedition in all medical questions, it was quite obvious that he would remind the others if they dared to challenge him.

"All right, all right," McKay grumbled. "Do whatever voodoo magic you need to do, but do it quick. We need this ZedPM, because without it we're sitting ducks."

"Carson, this really isn't necessary," Sheppard groaned. "I'm perfectly fine." The truth was that his nervousness increased with every passing second. He really didn't need the time to second guess his decision to go back to MX-650. He gritted his teeth.

Beckett's jaw ticked. "No point in arguing this, Colonel. Ye're coming with me."

The doctor folded his arms in front of his chest and fixed Sheppard with a steely gaze. Sheppard held the doctor's stare for a moment in a silent battle of wills. It was more a question of saving his face than any real act of defiance. He knew that Beckett wouldn't back down. And part of Sheppard was almost grateful for the reprieve.

Eventually, he broke eye contact and gave a quick nod. "All right. Let's get this over with."

Without further comment, Beckett turned on his heels and headed back to the infirmary. Sheppard followed him with a sigh. His heart rate slowed down, now that he didn't have to face the Rahelians right away. Breathing had become a lot easier all of a sudden. Instead, a deep sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach.

When the doors of the infirmary closed behind them, Beckett turned around to face the Colonel. Deep lines of worry creased his forehead. His lips had become a tight line.

"What is going on, John?" he asked softly.

"I told you, I'm fine," Sheppard said through gritted teeth.

This time he didn't manage to look into Beckett's eyes. He knew that his lie was rather obvious, a cry for help so to speak. Because some part of him desperately wanted to talk about all the things that troubled him. Some part of him hoped that Beckett, or anyone else for that matter really, could come up with the solution that he hadn't been able to find yet. But there was also this stubborn streak of him that insisted he should deal with all this on his own. And that voice in his mind sounded strangely like his father's.

The doctor's frown deepened. "Do ye think I'm bloody daft? I've treated enough panic attacks to recognize one when I see it. Ye're clearly not fine, lad. Do nah dare to tell me otherwise."

Sheppard felt like someone had squished the air out of his lungs. For a moment, he was too stunned to speak. He'd really thought that he had managed to cover his reaction well enough, that Beckett would just be referring to all the other freaky stuff he'd done today.

Beckett seemed to read his mind. "Don't ye worry, I do nah think that any of the others noticed anything odd about yer behavior in the gate room. So, are ye going to tell me what is bothering ye, or do I need to relieve ye of duty permanently? Ye know I could. Yer suffering from panic attacks after the ordeal Koyla put you through would be enough of a reason to develop PTSD. But I got a feeling that's not what's happening here. So, help me out, John."

Sheppard let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He looked around the infirmary, spotting a few patients and some nurses on the other side of the room. "Can we talk somewhere else? In private?"

Beckett's eyes widened at the request, but he simply nodded. "Fair enough."

He led Sheppard into an adjoining room that was empty and often used as isolation unit. When the doors closed behind them, he looked at the Colonel expectantly. For long moments, neither of them said a word. Sheppard was grateful that Beckett didn't do any further prodding. His heart beat in his throat and his mouth ran dry. Though he wasn't looking forward to talk about this, he knew he had to. And perhaps that was for the best.

Sheppard started pacing like a caged animal and wrung his hands." This cannot leave this room. Doctors-patient confidentiality, you hear me?"

The doctor nodded. "Of course, lad, ye have my word." His eye-brows raised and now he looked definitely intrigued.

Sheppard took a steadying breath. "When I returned from MX-650, I left a few things out of my report. After using the chair, I was so tired and dizzy I could barely stand or walk. The Rahelians took care of me, let me sleep." He cleared his throat and felt a furious blush tint his cheeks. "When I woke up, they offered me the services of their women."

Beckett's mouth opened, as if he wanted to ask for clarification. But as his eyes came to rest on Sheppard's flushed face, he seemed to understand what exactly the Colonel was talking about. His lips formed a surprised 'ooh'.

Sheppard swallowed hard and looked down uncomfortably. "Apparently, they had this ritual for centuries. Any man who saved the city using the chair has to father a child. Since none of the Rahelians has the gene anymore, this ceremony hadn't been held in a long time. Tarhan told me that they'd almost forgotten about this ritual, let alone its significance until I told him about genes.

"I see," Beckett said quietly. "They want you to pass your gene on."

"Uh huh," Sheppard nodded. He stopped his restless pacing for a moment, to really look into Beckett's eyes. "And not just to one child. They want me to get as many of their women pregnant as I can. I guess, most guys would just love that particular offer."

"But you don't?" It wasn't really a question, more of an observation.

Sheppard heaved a sigh. "I couldn't do it. I mean sleep with a woman I don't love." He covered his face with his hands and resumed pacing. "I know I don't have that kind of reputation. Rodney keeps calling me Captain Kirk. And it's true, at least partially. I like flirting with women, like most guys, I guess. There are rumors about me being quite the ladies guy."

Beckett gave him a wry grin, practically confirming that he, too, had heard the rumors.

"Well, they're not true," Sheppard said softly. "I have never tried to stop these rumors, because in the military it's the kind of reputation that makes life just a bit easier."

Beckett turned serious again. "I can imagine. It can really be nasty when the guys start speculating whether or not yer gay. Not that it would make any difference if ye were."

"Well, I'm not." Sheppard stopped pacing, and leaned against the single bed in the room. All nervous energy had rushed out of him and now he just felt defeated. He clenched hands in to tight fists until his knuckles turned white. "It's... It's been years since I have been intimate with someone. I don't sleep around, even if everyone believes I do. And some of the females they offered me were still in their early teens. They looked so scared, as if they'd never been with a man or even knew what that entailed. I couldn't give the Rahelians what they asked of me. I just couldn't."

He looked at Beckett, pushing himself up from the bed. Much to his relief, the man seemed sympathetic rather than sneering. That made it a lot easier to add what really needed to be said. He ran a nervous hand through his hair and flopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh.

He stared at his hands. "They tried to rape me when I refused."

Beckett paled, looking completely taken aback. He sagged down onto the bed next to Sheppard.

"Rape ye?" he gasped.

Sheppard merely nodded, still looking at his hands as if he'd spotted something particularly interesting there.

Beckett's eyes widened. "Did they hurt ye?"

Instead of replying, Sheppard simply rolled up his shirt to show the doctor the collection of blacks and blues on his upper body. But before Beckett had a chance to examine him, he put the fabric down again.

"Just a few bruises," Sheppard said dismissively. "They hurt, but not as badly as they would if anything was broken. I managed to get away just in time, before they…" He trailed off and involuntarily moved away from Beckett to keep his distance. "That's why I didn't want to go back to that planet, least of all alone. But I no longer have a choice in the matter."

"Now, at least, I understand why ye were so desperate when I told ye that the gene therapy wouldn't work," Beckett said slowly. "Ye need to tell the others about this. Elizabeth, Rodney, Teyla – they need to know what they're asking of ye."

"I'm not going to tell them!" Sheppard jumped up from the bed, his jaw firmly set. "Rodney would have a field day if he ever found out about this. And I guess he'd think I would enjoy it, too. I don't want the whole city to start discussing my love life or lack thereof. I refuse to provide that kind of entertainment."

"But ye can't go!" Beckett protested.

"Didn't you hear what Rodney just told us?" Sheppard shouted angrily. "There's a whole fleet of Wraith ships waiting to wipe us out. I can't let that happen, just because I have certain sexual preferences."

"That's insane, and ye know it." Beckett disagreed heatedly. His face was turning a deep shade of red. "Ye will never be able to trade for this ZPM in time! Even if you sleep with every single woman on that planet, do ye have any idea how long it will take until ye know if ye've gotten any of them pregnant? Weeks, months more likely, since they lack any kind of advanced technology. And even if I was there to help you determine if they were pregnant, it would still take at least two weeks before I could say anything for sure. By that time, the Wraith could have wiped us out at least twice."

Sheppard slumped down on the bed, staring at the doctor in shock. He blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around what Beckett had just said. He hadn't thought about that at all. Not one moment had he stopped to think about how long this special assignment might actually take. He'd been so consumed with his own problems, that he hadn't considered all the implications.

Of course, Becketn was right. Now, he remembered how nervous Nancy had been for weeks, when she had feared that he'd gotten her pregnant at a particularly inopportune time. How long they'd had to wait to know for sure. Almost three agonizing weeks. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe through the nausea that was suddenly rising in his stomach.

Beckett wasn't done yet. "And even if you succeeded fathering their children, it wouldn't help them. How long would it be before any of those children could operate the chair? Twelve years? Fourteen? Longer? At the current rate of Wraith attacks in this galaxy, the Rahelians would be completely wiped out before any of them could control the ancient systems. And who is to say that any of yer supposed children would ever be strong enough to work this particular chair if even ye almost failed."

Sheppard felt his heart beating madly in his chest. "Then what do you suggest? I have to at least try to get this ZPM."

Now it was Beckett's turn to heave a sigh. "Honestly? I don't know. Maybe I could come with ye to try and talk some sense into these people."

"Good luck with that," Sheppard huffed in frustration. He got up again. "As long as we don't have any better ideas, I'm going back to MX-650 and see that I get us this ZPM. No matter the cost. Are you going to clear me for active duty now or are you going to ship me back to Earth?"

He didn't wait for Beckett to say anything. He just turned to walk out of the infirmary. When he looked up, he froze. They were no longer alone. He hadn't even heard that someone had entered thr room and was now standing in the doorway.

"McKay," he gasped. A rush of anger filled him. "What do you want? How long have you been standing there? The word privacy mean anything to you?"

McKay's face was pale. "I wanted to see what took you so long." His voice was quiet, regretful even. And I've been standing here long enough to know what the Rahelians want from you. Why didn't you say anything?"

"And what would you have done if I had?" Sheppard replied, not just a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Would you suddenly be able to make the adjustments to the chair systems I suggested? Can you give the Rahelians a shield that works without the need for a gene carrier to activate it?"

McKay didn't meet his eyes. "No."

"I guess that settles it," Sheppard spat. Hurriedly, he headed for the door.

McKay grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "John, you can't go there."

"I can't?" Sheppard growled. "Whatever happened to 'we need a ZPM and we need it now?' Do you have any miracles up your sleeve? Do you have something we could trade with the Rahelian's that would be worth more than getting back the gene? If so, I'm all ears."

McKay hung his head. "There has to be a way. We need to tell the others."

Sheppard fumed. "Don't you dare!" His eyes had a very dangerous sparkle to them.

McKay threw up his hands. "But Sheppard..."

Sheppard cut him off. "No buts, Rodney. If they knew, going to the Rahelians would only become so much harder."

"Why?" McKay whined. "We're on your side, don't you see that?"

Sheppard closed in on McKay until his face was mere inches from the other man's. "Do you know what was the worst part about being tortured by Koyla and his pet Wraith?"

He lowered his voice, desperately trying to contain the anger that was currently burning inside him. He bore his eyes into McKay, willing him to understand what he'd been going through. And his friend's eyes widened because even weeks after his ordeal Sheppard had never really spoken about it to any of his team mates.

Sheppard's breath came in panting gasps. "It wasn't the pain. It weren't even the years I'd lost or the very real possibility that I wasn't going to survive. It was knowing that you all had to watch without being able to do anything about it." He took a step back. "I can't go to the Rahelians when you see me off with these expressions on your faces. It will be bad enough that I have to do sleep with however many women the Rahelians deem necessary, before they give us this damn ZPM."

He let out an angry huff. "So, are you two now done embarrassing me? If so, I'd like to get this over with before I had a chance to really think it through."

"I'm coming with you," Beckett said. His tone of voice left little doubt that he considered the discussion closed.

"Me too." McKay crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"No, Rodney, you're not," Sheppard disagreed. "I need you here to come up with some miracle solution. I have a feeling we're going to need that."