Sheppard was forced to lay around all day flat on his back. He didn't see a difference between his bed and a prison cell, except there were curtains instead of bars. What he was even less thrilled about was an audience to his incarceration.

It was difficult to eat dinner when he was on so many narcotics that the fork wobbled in his grip. He kept telling himself it was the drugs, not the fact that he was in this poor a shape, unable to feed himself without making a mess all over his hospital gown. One thing was for sure even if a nurse wasn't around to help, no way in hell was he going to let McKay lend a hand.

"Oh, come on, I'm just trying to save Carson's staff the extra work. You don't want them to have to clean up after you, too," Rodney muttered as he tried to wrestle the utensil away.

Sheppard threw it on the tray and pushed his lunch away. "Not hungry," he grumbled.

"Oh, that's mature. And for the record, you're always famished when you're cooped up in here. You don't even have to wait in line for your meal."

"Then you can eat it."

"Stop being so pissy."

"Don't you have something better to do?"

The physicist snatched the tray, causing all the silverware to clatter to the floor as he marched over to place it on a side table. "Oh, yes, my idea of a fun time is getting into a squabble with a moody, sulking fly boy, who's miserable and trying to make all those around him feel the same way."

Maybe he was being a jerk, but Sheppard didn't know how to share his frustration any other way. His leg was a dull throb of pain even doped to the gills on his happy juice. There was nothing to do when he was awake and when he tried to fill the time with sleep a nurse came by almost every hour to check computer readouts, stick a thermometer in his ear, listen to his breathing and poke and prod his thigh. At least the leg wound weeped and drained less, making the re-dressing a faster process than before and his arm didn't require as much attention, even if it did still ache. He cradled it closer to his chest, cursing over the fact it was his predominant one.

His grimace didn't go unnoticed and, once again, Rodney was back to agitated, worried friend. "You want me to--"

"No," Sheppard replied, his eyes closed.

"What about adjusting the bed so you're more upright?"

"No," he sighed as he breathed heavily on his O2.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"You know, I was researching anemia, since that's the closest thing you're experiencing right now, and, um...Carson's got you on loads of supplements and in a few days you'll be feeling better."

Sheppard wiped at his sweaty forehead, raking his fingers through his tussled hair. He needed a shave and a shower. He felt grimy, his skin slick with perspiration from a low grade fever. He didn't want to imagine what his reflection looked like in the mirror, knowing his pallor would give even Casper a run for his money.

"You going to the meeting?" he asked changing the subject.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss the company of people who have tried to kill me on several occasions." Rodney stood next to his bed and began to pace. "We're taking no chances. Lorne and a bunch of Marines will go to the planet first, and then send the coordinates to Ladon."

Sheppard nodded, but Rodney didn't notice too lost in the game plan. "Once the Genii arrive they'll be disarmed. The rest of us will go and listen to what he has to say. If it's satisfactory, then we'll set up a meeting on Atlantis." He paused in his pacing and tapped the metal railing. "It's not a bad plan."

"Yeah, it's not," Sheppard replied. It'd been his plan.

"Caldwell will have the Daedalus monitor things from orbit, just in case."

"Of course he will," Sheppard mumbled. He wanted to be there every encounter with the Genii had proved to be more than met the eye.

He grabbed the bed control, pressing the device to increase the angle until he was sitting up more. As it climbed in degrees, so did the rotation of an invisible, searing knife. He held his breath, enduring the digging of the dagger.

"I thought you said you didn't want to move?"

Sheppard finally let go of the button, barely able to tolerate the increased strain on the limb and resulting shock waves. It was still a small victory to be sitting up more.

"Which planet did you pick out?" he asked, a tremble in his voice.

"PMX-5571, the one we were talking about before... well, before--" Rodney's hand gestured in the air, trying to come up with a politically correct term.

"Before I was skewered," Sheppard said matter of factly.

Rodney took offense. "Oh, there you go again, hiding everything behind a joke."

"If I can't make fun of it...who can?" Sheppard said, staring at his leg.

"You almost died."

Alone on some freaking floor. "Yeah, but I didn't." Sheppard stared the scientist right in the eye. "It happened, but now I need to get back on my feet and help out with--"

"Excuse me Colonel Oblivious, but just in case you forgot, there's some guy out there with an ax to grind for you."

"A lot of people haven't liked me. I'm used to it."

Rodney's face puffed up when he got mad, veins along his forehead protruding, his voice rising an octave. "There was more blood on the floor than inside you, Colonel. This wasn't a ..."

"Rodney... "

"You were a goner. A warmed over corpse had more life than---"

"Enough!"

"Why?" Rodney, with all his frazzled hair, fidgety hands and loud mouth, floundered for only a second before he was full speed ahead. "A belt and towels kept you alive. Ronon and his hands. Carson with forceps and a hell of a lot of hope."

"And I'm fine!"

"Fine?" Rodney pointed at his mangled leg and all the nifty little cushions under it. "You call that fine?"

Moving hurt. Getting all worked up made the beeping monitors beat at a frantic rhythm. Hearing what he didn't want to got the blood flowing, adding color to his cheeks that'd been absent the past few days. "Yes, damn it!"

"You are so full of it!"

"Can I do anything about the guy in my quarters, McKay?" Sheppard's fingers balled and twisted up the bed sheets. "The answer's no." He kept talking in a low, throaty rumble. "I don't know who wants to see me dead and I can't control something outa of my hands.

What I can do, is get out of this bed and help out with our other problems. Like not letting my team get ambushed again when we walk out of that wormhole. Or negotiate alone with people who've pulled the rug out from under us on numerous occasions."

"Oh, yes, I forgot. You're Superman. The people of Metropolis are incapable of handling things alone because they're so used to The Man of Steel swooping in and rescuing them at the end of the day." Rodney's voice grew more acidic as he spoke. "Guess what Colonel? We can handle things ourselves and you need to face the fact that you're mortal."

There was more to Rodney's tirade; Sheppard knew the man masked things he didn't want to admit with anger and arrogance. This time he couldn't get past that, too wrapped up in his own theatrical production of denial about his situation. "I have a job to do, McKay. I have to test my limitations every day because lives count on it. I don't have the luxury--"

"Why don't you save this for one of your speeches to rally the troops? Seems they'll buy the whole it's better to come back on your shield thing than the rest of us sane people."

Ronon's voice boomed from inside the curtained off area. "That's not a bad motto at all."

Both heads turned to face the new visitor as the Satedan's eyes pierced the physicist with a blatant mock.

All of Rodney's muscles tensed, his jaw jutted out and he balled up his fists. Sheppard's eyebrows furrowed as he wondered what he'd missed between the two of them. The air shuddered with the increased hostility and he licked his lips, wrestling with a way to get the situation under control.

But the arguing had garnered the wrong type of attention and, before any man could continue the argument, Carson stormed over, adding to the mix of emotions.

"What is going on here?" He turned to face his patient. "Your vitals just spiked and Janice said she heard a commotion." Carson pinned each visitor with a scolding expression. "This is an infirmary. There will be no bloody fightin'. If I catch either of you fussing with the colonel, I'll have both of ya banned during the duration of his stay." The irate Scot waited, watching to see if his words sank in.

Rodney marched over to the table with the abandoned food tray and snatched his PDA. "I've got things to attend to."

Sheppard watched him storm away and Ronon enter apprehensively. What was with everyone acting so out of character around him?

Carson derailed that train of thought by breezing over to take in the newest readings. "Well, I'm glad to see you awake for more than a few minutes, lad. I was thinking it was time to get you on your feet."

Sheppard's face brightened at the idea. "Yeah?"

The doctor's mannerisms didn't speak as highly about the prospect. "We'll see how excited you are in a little while. I think Janice is busy with another patient and I'll need her assistance to get you mobile."

"I'll help," Ronon offered, standing next to the physician.

Carson eyed him and, once again, Sheppard was confused by the downright earnest need in Ronon's voice. Something was definitely bothering his friend.

Beckett pursed his lips, but Ronon wasn't having any of the man's hesitation.

"Just tell me what to do."

Sighing, the doc relented. "Alright, but we'll do this slowly."

Beckett pushed down the metal rail and pulled away the sheet and blanket covering his patient's legs, folding them over the foot of the bed. Sheppard suppressed a shiver from the draft, but Carson wasn't fooled. The physician left and returned with an additional gown, throwing it around Sheppard's shoulders. The doctor then disconnected his oxygen and hooked the line up to a portable tank that hung from the IV pole.

Ronon stood stiffly, obviously unsure where he could lend aid. Carson wheeled the IV stand closer, ensuring the tubing wouldn't be in the way. The doctor assembled the catheter equipment and hung the bag on a hook at the bottom. Sheppard felt an uncomfortable tug and became acutely aware of how undignified this was going to be.

"I'm keeping the BP cuff wrapped around you; I want to take a few measurements as you get acclimated to standing before we move you to a chair. I don't want to risk you fai-- um, passing out on us."

"That would be bad," Sheppard said in a wry tone.

Carson turned to Ronon. "I want you to take his left side and support him as we get him to his feet- slowly. If he begins to sway or I tell you to lay him back down, do it gently. I don't want any sudden movements.

"Got it, Doc," Ronon said, moving over.

Carson looked at Sheppard in all seriousness. "Let me do most of the work right now."

Sheppard nodded, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. The heavy set of bandages that encircled his thigh felt like armor and ugly black and blue streaked out from under the dressing. Carson gently guided the limb away from the bed, flexing the torn and cut up muscle in the process. Every nerve ignited, screaming in protest at the movement of damaged tissue.

"Try to scoot up to the edge of the bed, Colonel."

The accent cut through a the buzzing in his head as he pushed forward with both hands, Carson helping swing both his legs over. He grunted, sucking in a harsh breath as his vision grew fuzzy, and squeezed his eyes closed.

"Easy now." Carson's voice, once again, was a beacon in a sea of misery.

Sheppard felt the BP cuff inflate around his arm as he waited for the spasms to taper off. The room spun and his stomach went queasy on him. His entire body trembled and he puffed for air like a choo-choo train.

"The head rush will settle in a second, you're doing fine," Carson soothed.

Sheppard didn't even want to look up at Ronon, feeling too humiliated. "Sure," he choked out, trying to tame his galloping heart.

Then he felt a hand grip his upper arm. "You're halfway there, Sheppard." Ronon gave him an encouraging expression.

Sheppard lifted his head from its bowed position and gave a weak grin. "Yeah."

"Now wrap your left arm around my shoulders,"Carson instructed.

Sheppard did as he was told, grabbing a hold of the doctor, the IV pinching the crook of his arm. "'Kay," he breathed heavily.

"Ronon," Carson signaled.

Satedan came up beside Sheppard and slung Sheppard's other arm around his neck, each man supporting his weight on both sides.

"On a count of three, let us pull you up," Carson ordered.

"Alright," Sheppard said between gritted teeth.

He was propelled forward and away from the support of the bed. The world tried to flip upside down as his feet found the floor and his left leg quaked, his knee unable to lock as it threatened to buckle. Ronon and Carson's shoulders held him up and their arms around his waist anchored him place, keeping him balanced.

"Easy does it. You still with us, Colonel?"

"Y-yes," his voice hitched, as the tremble in his bad leg worsened.

"Try to move just a wee bit. One step at a time," Carson reiterated, rolling the IV stand along.

Sheppard leaned on both his friends, depending heavily on his good leg. The room still tried to pull a few G Forces on him, playing havoc with his balance. He dragged his left leg along the floor, not trusting that it wouldn't just crumple from under him. Every second upright, his blood circulated with the much needed activity, testing out which parts of him worked and which were faulty.

He couldn't no longer delay the inevitable and finally placed weight on his left leg, experiencing first hand how a circuit felt when it fried from too much juice overloading it. On step five, the imaginary pins holding his body together began to pop out and even adrenaline couldn't keep the scotch tape from unraveling. Sheppard let out a groan half-way to the chair, four steps from collapsing under the pressure.

Ronon hefted his sagging weight. "You can do this, Sheppard."

"Colonel?" Carson's worried tone and Ronon's steadfast encouragement made him redouble his efforts.

"I-I'm... good," he grunted, fighting the fire that radiated down his entire limb.

He used the pain, fought it tooth and nail, one inch at a time. The three of them made pathetic progress, like partiers unable to walk in a straight line after a binge. By the time the blessed chair was within reach, his entire body quivered from stress and exhaustion.

"We're gonna turn ya around, so you can sit." Beckett's voice floated in and out of his head.

With the aid of the two men compensating for his inability to support himself any longer, Sheppard sank into the chair. His vision blurred and at first he thought he was going to pass out sitting in the damn chair. The oxygen flow increased and he felt the blood pressure cuff tighten around his arm again.

"There ya go, just breathe deeply, lad. Your pressure's picking back up."

Sheppard rested his head back against the wall. "Piece of cake."

Ronon snorted.

Carson placed another blanket over him, this time covering Sheppard's legs, since his gown did little to ward off the cold. "Thanks."

The Scot eyed him. "Any more dizziness?" he asked, checking his pulse.

"No...just wiped."

"Aye, I bet." Carson played with the BP cuff once again and, after checking the readouts, squatted to his level. "You did very well. That was a huge step."

Sheppard nodded, still trying to regain his equilibrium.

"I'm going to let you sit up for a while, enjoy being outta bed. Ronon will stay with you and if you need anything I'm just a call away."

"I'll be fine."

Sheppard missed the discussion that ensued, too lost in trying to piece himself back together. After a long stretch of silence, he opened his eyes to see Ronon staring at him.

"You don't have to stay. I'm not going anywhere," he joked.

"This won't be a long set back," Ronon replied confidently.

Sheppard flexed his right hand and tried to shake off the sting of the laceration on his forearm. "Yeah, I guess I've had worse," he murmured. He looked up to see the strong stoic mask of his friend. "Thanks, for what you did...you know, when you found me."

Ronon's eyes darted to the floor in shame. "I let him escape."

"Yeah? And I let him shish kabob me."

Sheppard could see his teammate straighten to full height, all the burdens of the world balanced on his shoulders. Releasing him of responsibility was the least he could offer. "It was a tough choice, but I'm glad of the one you made...considering the circumstances and all. I'll be on my feet soon enough and you can kick my ass next time we spar."

"It's my job to..." Ronon wrestled over words. "I failed to... I failed."

"Not from where I'm standing," Sheppard replied, drawing on his commander's voice.

Ronon offered no reply to that and things fell silent between the two men. Sheppard had McKay's words about mortality bouncing around in his brain and Ronon took a seat at the foot of the bed, apparently lost in his own musings.

Sheppard could feel his energy lag, sitting up not as relaxing as it should've been. He'd been pushed past his limits and had to admit, he wasn't going anywhere for a while.

"You do plan on going on the mission?"

Ronon seemed a man at a crossroads, unwilling to comment on something he was struggling with and Sheppard wasn't going to allow more doubt to fester. "I want you there."

The warrior shook his head. "I should be going after the intruder."

They were calling him the intruder, Sheppard thought ruefully. "I need your eyes and ears during the talks."

"That's not my place right now."

"Are you saying that the security of Atlantis isn't your top priority?" Sheppard challenged.

He knew of the runner's tendency to take on the brunt of responsibility for things out of his control. Sheppard did the same thing, but now wasn't the time to debate such issues. "I need your instincts. And don't worry about me, Lorne's team will find that guy."

Ronon relented. "Fine."

Sheppard held onto his small victory; now all he had to do was keep from falling asleep.

"I'm sticking around till the doc returns, this time let's see if you can make back to the bed without being such a pansy."

"Yes, sir," Sheppard replied tiredly, but with a grin.

The location for their talks with the Genii looked very much like any park on Earth... if she ignored the group of Marines and members of the expedition. They had chosen the greenest patch of grass to wait on and a summery breeze blew through Elizabeth's hair. She brushed an errant strand from her eyes as she took in the serene surroundings. The area was open save or a few large conifers in the distance; nothing that could conceal troops or the workings of a trap.

She studied those around her; most of the team carried on in a professional manner, but a few couldn't hide their nervousness. Rodney was a live wire of restlessness, still sporting a minor limp and talking with animated hands to a visibly relaxed Teyla. The Athosian's calm demeanor was a source of admiration and quite the opposite of the worked up scientist. Rodney had been splitting his energy between his regular duties and spending time in the infirmary. Things had been too hectic the past few days for Elizabeth to find the time to talk to the man about his growing irritability and more problematic mood swings.

People were'nt complaining. Yet.

Ronon walked the perimeter with a few of the Marines, awaiting the gate activation. She was relieved to see him on this mission instead of stalking the halls of Atlantis at all hours of the night. She wrapped her arms around her body, wishing for the presence of his military commander. John's absence was one of the myriad reasons why so many were on edge. She longed for his opinion during these negotiations, not only for his input, but as visible proof of his well being.

The investigation and its lack of results troubled her greatly. There was still the possible threat it posed to John and the unknown overall goal it represented. There were too many balls up in the air and she hoped they wouldn't all come crashing down at once.

Caldwell walked over to her after briefing a few of the Marines. He had taken over John's duties after his attack, but compared to the last time, the circumstances were much different. It was a very temporary position and their interactions were more cordial as a result.

"They should be arriving any minute. We just sent them the coordinates. Ladon replied and he is arriving with five of his men," Caldwell spoke.

"Good. Hopefully, these talks will bear fruit. It would be nice to have one of the few advanced races of this galaxy on our side for a change." She saw his skeptical expression and smiled. "Even if that only means we don't have to fear them as another enemy."

Caldwell arched an eyebrow. "I'll always consider them a threat, but lowering the bar from orange to yellow is a goal."

Teyla's voice interrupted any comments. "They are coming."

The signal rang for an incoming wormhole and a contingent of Marines surrounded the incoming group that emerged. Five Genii soldiers approached, guns lowered, their eyes scanning for threat. Ladon Radim calmly entered last, with a confident stride and a warm smile.

Elizabeth met him halfway, reaching for his outstretched hand. "Good to see you Ladon," she said, using his first name casually to set the tone.

"You as well, Dr. Weir." Radim stood at ease as the rest of the Atlantis group gathered in a loose circle around the leaders.

Elizabeth went on with the formalities "You, of course, know Dr. McKay and Teyla"

Ladon nodded politely to them both.

"This is Ronon Dex."

The runner stared at the Genii, using every intimidation tactic in the book without saying a word. Ladon grinned. "Nice to meet a new member of the Atlantis Team."

Elizabeth pointed to the military man. "And this is Colonel Caldwell."

Ladon looked around. "And where is Colonel Sheppard?"

She had been prepared for that question and she answered in a smooth manner. "Colonel Sheppard isn't unable to attend our talks at this time. Colonel Caldwell is here in his place."

"I'm surprised that he would miss this."

Radim's voice was calm, but his eyes divulged otherwise.

"Really? Why is that?" Rodney huffed suspiciously.

"Because of our past history, Dr. McKay. I thought he would want to be a part of a turning point between our two peoples."

"So, this would be a turning point in which you're not conspiring to kill or kidnap us?" McKay asked bitterly.

"Rodney!" Elizabeth snapped. "We are here trying to put our past behind us."

"Sorry if I'm not a beacon of hope," Rodney snarked.

"It's all right, Dr Weir. I understand any reluctance, but I've come here to try to mend our past. One of the first things on my agenda as the new leader of my people was to try to establish more friendly relations." He looked at the Atlantis inner circle. "Even become allies in our fight against the Wraith."

Elizabeth warned Rodney to back off with a cool glare, looking at Caldwell for a moment before continuing. "This is good news. Our intention from the very start was to build ties. And how are your citizens dealing with the latest political events?"

Ladon chuckled. "As I told you before. Things are very stable and we've focused on progress, which includes my dealings today."

Caldwell stepped forward. "And what are you proposing exactly?"

"That this becomes our first step in beginning real talks. I don't expect things to happen over night, but we both know that together we have a better chance of defeating a common enemy."

Teyla, who had been quiet, spoke for the first time. "That would detail what at first?"

"Trade, if you wanted. I know you may have need of crops. We, of course, would value any medicines and expertise in return."

"So, we just chalk up every past encounter to the previous trigger-happy regime and hope that you don't go back to your old tricks once we let our guard down," Rodney sneered.

Elizabeth was losing patience. "Rodney, this will not get us anywhere."

"He does have a point," Caldwell added.

Elizabeth wasn't naive. She preferred to choose her words carefully and tried to rein in the conversation. "What I think both gentlemen are trying to say is that this sounds promising, but I think we may need some type of good faith gesture on your part."

Ladon seemed perfectly at ease. "I surmised as much, which is the reason why I came bearing information that I think will prove my good intentions."

This had everyone's attention and Elizabeth waited for the next shoe to drop.

Ladon glanced to his left, making eye contact with one of his men. A thin, older gentleman with silver hair didn't seem pleased. The hesitancy had her full attention.

Radim cleared his throat. "It came to my attention earlier this week that several families who lost loved ones during the failed mission to take over Atlantis have conspired to seek revenge."

This was not what she was expecting to hear and it took a minute to let his words sink in. "What are you talking about? Revenge for what?"

"If you recall during the siege of Atlantis, Colonel Sheppard killed many of our men in defense of the city."

Some of the other Genii tensed up and the Marines guarding went on full alert.

"Colonel Sheppard was only doing his job during a hostile event," Teyla defended.

"I understand that, and I am not arguing the point. However, he did kill many soldiers, including over fifty men when he raised the shield as our reinforcements arrived. Many families lost loved ones and have often been very vocal about retaliating against those they hold accountable for the deaths."

"Try yourselves," Rodney growled, looking anxious.

Ronon's hand gripped his blaster, his eyes drilling accusingly at the Genii leader. This was a scenario that Elizabeth had never fathomed and she had to try to disarm a very volatile situation before it spiraled out of control.

"What plan?" she asked.

Ladon ignored Ronon's hostile posturing. "They hired an assassin to kill Colonel Sheppard."

"What?" Elizabeth's heart stuttered, skipping a beat.

"Come again?" Caldwell asked, astonished.

Teyla's eyes widened. She held back Ronon, whose agitated disposition was making the Genii and Marines even more tense.

For all the high emotion, Ladon remained cool. "We are still conducting interrogations to determine how many family members are involved. We have learned that they contracted the skills of the Rashakash Orderand employed a man by the name of Voulsh to carry out the hit."

Ronon broke away from Teyla's restraint, surprising everyone in the group. The Satedan grabbed the lapels of Ladon's jacket, lifting him to his toes. "A member of the Rashakash is after Sheppard and you're just now telling us?" he snarled.

Caldwell and Teyla tried to pull the enraged man away from Radim, who was unable to pry Ronon's fingers away. "It wasn't confirmed until today. We only had suspicions before."

"Ronon, get off of him!" Elizabeth ordered.

"Ronon!" Teyla urged and the runner let go.

Rodney was at a loss of words for once and looked to Elizabeth for guidance, but she was still trying to get Ronon to step away.

Caldwell took charge, his voiced booming with clear authority. "You're admitting that a group of Genii commissioned an assassination attempt on the military leader of Atlantis."

"To them he's a terrorist who murdered many of our people."

"You better give us as much information as possible on this Voulsh guy and the Order of whatever he works for," Caldwell demanded.

"I don't have anything more than that. The Rashakash Order is a secret society and I've only heard rumors of their existence. I don't even know how any of my people could have made contact with one of them."

"You're telling us that some super ninja is out running around Atlantis, trying to kill Sheppard? Are you guys nuts? Assassination plots! This isn't a Tom Clancy novel!" Rodney yelled.

Ladon scrunched his eyebrows. "I came here with this information in hopes of preventing it. If I wasn't earnest in my efforts, I would have kept silent."

"A little too late," Rodney snapped.

Elizabeth and Caldwell could have throttled him and for once McKay appeared regretful for the slip up.

"I see..." Radim said, realization visibly dawning on his face. "I'm sorry to hear it."

"He's alive, no thanks to your warning," Ronon hissed.

"I wondered if you ever talked," Laden addressed the pissed runner. "You still have a chance at catching him."

"You don't stop the Rashakash.You can only try to kill them," Ronon warned.

Elizabeth looked at him. "I take it you know about this Order?'

Ronon looked at all of their faces. "I know enough that the Rashakashwill not stop until Sheppard is dead or its assassin no longer breathes."

Suddenly the beginnings of their peace talks with the Genii had grown into a nightmare of epic proportions.