A/N: Sorry for the delay, but here it is. Thanks to everyone that's reviewed.

The first thing that he became aware of was that his head felt like it would explode, every muscle, even ones he wasn't aware he had made their presence known. His mouth felt like sandpaper, his stomach grumbled ferociously, and he was tired, bone weary tired. Nothing new there then, he thought to himself. Although as he lay there, he realised that something was different. He felt clean and safe.

Preparing himself for the bright light that he could see even through lidded eyes, he cautiously opened them, only to snap them shut again as the pain in his head intensified. He let out an involuntary hiss at the pain.

"Colonel Sheppard? Can you hear me lad?"

He recognised the comforting Scottish accent immediately as belonging to Carson Beckett.

"If you can hear me, open your eyes."

He thought up a few choice words for the doctor at that suggestion, but his voice didn't seem to want to cooperate. He shook his head, hoping that Beckett would notice the barely imperceptible movement, and catch his meaning.

Beckett who had been watching his patient intensely, turned the lights down before adding,

"It's okay, you can open your eyes now, I turned the lights down."

Sheppard tried again to open his eyes finding the tired but smiling face of Carson Beckett staring back at him.

"Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

He tried, unsuccessfully to voice a reply. Carson anticipating Sheppard's need, reached for a cup of ice chips and placed one on his tongue. John swirled the melting ice chip slowly around his mouth, enjoying the sweet relief as the cool liquid ran down his parched throat.

Carson tried again, "How are you feeling lad?"

John decided that he needed to be honest with Carson if he was going to get the good stuff, which he decided he definitely needed.

"Head feels like it's about to explode, everything aches, ribs are hurting, really hungry, and still tired." John reeled off his list of symptoms.

Carson slightly taken aback by the honesty of his most frequent, but reluctant patient replied,

"I'll get you something for the headache and then I'll send a nurse down to get you some food. You've lost a lot of weight, and it's not like you had much to lose to start with. You look like you haven't eaten in days." Carson didn't like the way Sheppard winced at the last statement. "When was the last time you ate Colonel?"

"How long have I been gone?"

Not liking where this was headed Beckett replied, "Three weeks"

"Two weeks, six days", Sheppard stated matter of factly.

"What?"

"You asked how long ago it was since I ate, two weeks, six days."

"They didn't feed you at all?" Carson replied outraged

"Guess they didn't plan on keeping me around to long," Sheppard replied through heavy lidded eyes. He could feel Beckett bustling around him as he drifted back once more to the oblivion of sleep.

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The next time he woke it was to find that the pounding in his head had been replaced by an incessant tapping. Cautiously opening his eyes he found that thankfully the infirmary lights had been turned down. Turning his head to the left he saw that Rodney Mckay had taken up residence by his bed and was now ferociously tapping away on his laptop.

"Rodney?", it had barely been a whisper but thankfully Rodney had heard him. He nearly dropped his laptop as he jumped up,

"Hey you're awake. Finally. I mean come on how much sleep can one man need. Can I get you anything, drink? I should go get Carson, don't move I'll be right back."

Mckay had disappeared across the infirmary before John, brain running at half speed had time to register what he had said. Seconds later he returned followed closely by Elizabeth Weir and Carson Beckett. Carson immediately began fussing with the many wires and monitors that John had up until then failed to notice. I must really have been out of it, he mused to himself.

"How's your head now son?"

"Huh. Oh better thanks doc." At least he hoped that it was the right answer, he had spaced out for a second, brain still not fully functional. He tried sitting up but failed miserably as his broken ribs protested the movement. Rodney rushed forward and raised the head of the bed to a more comfortable sitting position.

"Thanks." He flashed him a weak smile. Seeing Elizabeth staring at him he realised that he must look awful. He was covered in bruises, no part of his body had escaped unscathed from the almost daily beatings, he had lost weight that he could little afford. Beckett had been lecturing him about his weight even before his capture, and Rodney was always telling him that he was too skinny. He was also sporting a three week old beard, which he had discovered from previous experience did not suit him at all. He was clean though, that was one saving grace, although Elizabeth had already seen the state he was in when he had first come through the gate, no wonder she was now looking at him with pity in her eyes. He hated how weak he had become.

"John. Glad to see you're awake, you had us all worried there for a while."

"Yeah well sorry, I had a bit of catching up to do, how long was I out?"

"You've been drifting in and out for about a week" Carson replied

"A week! Well I guess I had a lot of catching up to do. I suppose that's the after effects of not sleeping for three weeks."

There was an uncomfortable silence as Rodney, Elizabeth and Carson exchanged stunned glances.

"It's a bloody miracle you're still alive," Carson exclaimed "Sleep deprivation, coupled with food deprivation and the beatings. It must have been hell."

"To be honest Doc, I can't really remember all that much after the first week. Nothing made much sense, I was having hallucinations, couldn't be sure what was real and what wasn't." He turned to Rodney, before adding "You were there Rodney, well not you obviously but a hallucination you. That's what got me through it, you told me to hold on and that you would come for me. Guess you did, huh. How did you find me anyway?"

Again there was an uncomfortable silence as no one seemed to want the task of telling the Colonel that they had given up on him, and that they hadn't brought him home.

"Um, well, you see, here's the thing" Rodney began nervously, beginning to gesture wildly with his hands. John noticed he did that a lot when he was nervous. "We didn't rescue you. In fact we had given up searching for you. We did everything that we could, I worked for days to find a solution but we just had no idea where you were and…"

"Rodney!" Elizabeth cut in before Rodney could go off on one of his rants. "What Rodney's trying to say is that you made your own way back."

"Yes well I was getting to that part, if you'd just given me a chance." Rodney began, stopping as he caught sight of Sheppard's face, looking up at them with hurt and betrayal in his eyes. That look could not make Rodney feel anymore guilty then he already did. He had abandoned his friend twice, once when he was first captured, then he had given up on any chance of a rescue. Sheppard had been out there, waiting for them to come for him and they had failed him. If roles had been reversed he wouldn't have given up on Rodney, he never had and never would.

"How? Why?" Rodney was snapped from his thoughts by Sheppard's question.

"We were hoping you could tell us that." answered Dr Weir

"It's all just a jumbled mess. I remember that they wanted me to activate some ancient weapon for them. I refused of course, that's when they became heavy handed. Other then that it's all just a blur. Sorry." he added

"You have nothing to be sorry for son," Carson replied "It's quite normal for someone who has been through an ordeal such as you have to experience confusion and memory loss. It should likely come back to you , in time." He turned to Elizabeth and Rodney "Right now, visiting hours are over, my patient needs his rest.

As Rodney and Elizabeth were gently but firmly shuffled out the door, Rodney protesting all the way, Sheppard found himself unable to shake the feeling of loneliness, hurt and betrayal that had settled over him upon hearing that they had given up on him. He was more confused now then ever, trying to piece together the fragments that were his memories of the last three weeks, but nothing would come. He was quickly becoming frustrated with himself for not being able to remember, when he was snapped from his thoughts by a familiar voice.

"Colonel Sheppard? John?", came Carson's gentle probing

"Huh, Oh sorry Carson. Must have spaced out for a minute then."

Carson studied him before replying, "You know it's only natural to be frustrated at your lack of memory."

Carson spooked John frequently with insights like this, it seemed at times as if he was able to read minds. Maybe John was just a little out of practice at hiding his emotions.

John eyed the bowl that Carson had placed in front of him cautiously. It had the appearance of tomato soup but with the cooks on Atlantis one could never be too careful.

He had barely managed five spoonfuls when his stomach was telling him that it was full. Putting his spoon down he looked at Beckett with trepidation. He was expecting a chewing out over how little he had eaten, Beckett always seemed to be commenting on Johns eating habits, telling him he should eat more, and that he was too skinny. He was pleasantly surprised however when Beckett smiled and said, "It's ok Colonel, I didn't expect you to be able to eat much yet anyway, not after three weeks. Now lay down and get some rest" His mind was telling him that a week of sleep was plenty, but he could feel his body betraying him, as his eyes slid closed and he slid into an uneasy sleep.

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He found himself standing in the middle of a makeshift village, much like the Athosian camp back on the mainland. He was surrounded by tents, people bustling around him, seemingly unaware of his presence. He watched as children ran around him, clearly enjoying the bright summers day. He saw a mother nursing her child beside a roaring fire, with an older woman cooking beside her.

He heard it first before he saw it. The familiar high pitched whining of a wraith dart as it flew overhead, he watched in horror as the two women by the fire disappeared in the darts beam. As the dart continued to fly overhead, circling for more prey he saw wraith, on foot walking towards the village. Long black cloaks billowing as they marched menacingly towards him and the remaining villagers.

As they got closer he was horrified to discover that these wraith were him. Well, what he would like look if he were a wraith. All of them the same, all of them him. He watched as the lead wraith began to run towards the group of children who had earlier been playing, now stood frozen with fear. He shouted for them to run but they didn't hear him, didn't even acknowledge that he was there.

Finding himself unarmed, he acted on instinct and charged towards the wraith. He was momentarily stunned as instead of connecting with the slimy skin of the wraith, he found himself connecting with the cold, hard ground. From his position on the floor he made to grab for the only part of the wraith that he could reach, his ankle, but found that his hand passed straight through it, as if it wasn't even there.

Powerless to help he found he could only stand and watch as one by one the wraith versions of himself fed upon the defenceless villagers, leaving only dried, desiccated husks in their wake.

He woke with a start to find himself drenched in sweat, heart pounding in his chest, body aching as though he had just ran a marathon, safely ensconced in his bed in the infirmary.

A/N: All reviews welcome and greatly appreciated