A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, I was really worried no one would read it. Anyway, here's the next chapter, bit slow but necessary. We'll found out just who has Shep in the next chapter.

As he slowly began to regain consciousness he felt like crap. His tongue felt like sandpaper, his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool, and his body ached all over, even breathing hurt.

From the way that he felt he surmised that Beckett had broken out the sedatives, although for the life of him he couldn't remember why he could have ended up in the infirmary. The last thing that he remembered was stepping through the gate onto MX4-238. The next thing he knew he was waking up here, although he was quickly becoming aware that here, was not as he had first surmised, the infirmary. Instead of the not so comfy mattress of an infirmary bed he found himself lying on a cold, hard stone floor.

He cautiously opened his eyes, fully expecting to be blinded by lights overhead. Instead he was met with complete darkness. Leaning against the wall for support, he gingerly shifted into a sitting position. Feeling a wave of nausea wash over him, he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to settle his rebellious stomach. Once he was fairly confident he was not going to lose his breakfast, he opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings, finding himself unable to see anything. Wherever he was it was hot and stuffy and although he had never suffered with it before, he was beginning to feel extremely claustrophobic.

Forcing his mind to focus he began to take an inventory of his situation. He no longer had his radio or P-90. They would have really come in handy right about now, he thought to himself. He was no longer wearing his pack or his boots. He found himself thinking, good job I decided to wear socks this morning. Strange the things you think about when in these kinds of situations.

Suddenly realising he was forgetting something extremely important he snapped his head up and shouted into the darkness,

"Ford! Teyla! McKay!" When he received no answer he tried again "Anyone there" Again getting no reply, he resigned himself to the fact that he was indeed alone. Thoughts of his team began to race through his mind, I hope they're okay. Maybe they made it back to Atlantis. Suddenly a thought struck him, maybe they were here and they were just still unconscious. Berating himself for not thinking of it earlier, he slowly pushed himself up, using the wall for support, his legs feeling like jelly from the drugs.

He began to walk the perimeter of the room slowly, so as to not step on any unconscious bodies, all the time using the wall for support, and at the same time feeling for a doorway. However he had barely taken ten steps when he walked straight into another wall in front of him "OW!" he yelped as he hit it face first. He turned and began to walk, again another ten paces and he hit solid wall, although this time he had been expecting it so managed to avoid any further injury. He continued his inspection of the cell until he had walked all the way around, which didn't take too long.

He had achieved nothing except to increase his feelings of claustrophobia, as he now knew the exact size of his tiny cell, and also to increase the feelings of uneasiness and worry for his team. He had found nothing, no door, no unconscious bodies. He didn't know whether to be relieved or even more apprehensive. The fact that none of his team were here with him meant that they may have made it back to Atlantis and were even now mounting a rescue. He felt dejected when he realised that it was far more likely that they too were in similar cells to the one that he found himself in.

Suddenly he felt a wave of dizziness and nausea wash over him as his legs gave way from under him. He crumpled to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to regain his composure. He would have missed the guard entering the room had he not heard the clicking of the lock. Snapping his eyes open he stared out into the gloom, hoping that he would finally he able to get some answers as to where the hell he was and what these people wanted with him. No such luck. As the door opened, Sheppard was temporarily blinded by the bright lights beyond the door. Forcing himself to try to focus on the figure in the doorway, he could barely make out the outline of, a human, he was definitely human. He was about 6"5 and extremely muscular, there would be no overpowering him to escape. Damn. Before he had a chance to recover the guard had dropped something on the floor, turned and left, once again plunging him into total darkness.

Ignoring his bodies objections he ran towards the door, and banged as hard as he could,

"What do you want with me? Where are my team? Hey come back, don't ignore me!"

He continued to shout until his voice was hoarse. Admitting defeat, this round at least, he dropped down to the floor. He sat for several minutes until his mind registered that the guard placed something on the floor of the cell, feeling his way through the dark, fumbling for whatever it was that the guard had placed on the floor. His hand came into contact with a cup, almost knocking the contents on the floor. Gingerly he lifted the cup to his lips, praying that it was only water and that it hadn't been drugged. Deciding that he really didn't have a choice, his throat parched, he downed the warm, foul tasting liquid in one.

Instantly he regretted his actions as he began to feel dizzy and light-headed. He curled into himself, trying to keep warm, as he slowly slipped into the oblivion of unconsciousness.

A/N: Please R&R.