A/N: Hey all sorry for the delay. I had some trouble with various illnesses and stuff. Definitely not my week, month whatever. So without further adeu here is the final piece.

Very Brief Beta'er: Lushelgirz

... .LV. ...

Going Commando

Vulnerable – Part 9

By Lady Valmar

4:00 pm

It was horribly miserable the next two to three hours as he lay there, a nagging itch on the middle of his back where the whip marks were. He'd tried to shrug it off and go back to sleep but the thing just kept itching. As the hour slowly ticked by so did the itch…getting worse minute by minute, second by second.

Maybe the itch was more desirable than what was running around in his head. Regardless of how badly he itched he couldn't stop thinking about yesterday and all he'd gone through. Dr. Whatever her name and the taunting then this woman. How could she expect him to suddenly forgive her and ignore all she'd done to him? Why was he even thinking about it like her knew her? She was a nobody to him, just another Gou'ld trying to rip what small paradise the Atlantis team had managed in this part of the galaxy, away from him.

He hated the thought that this could have been prevented. He should not have chosen not to take his coffee to his favorite balcony instead he should have just gone back to the lab, at least then he wouldn't have jeopardized himself and the lives of those others she'd killed just to take him.

That poor Athosian woman's face, he could barely remember her because at the time he'd been as drugged up as a bloated fish. Still, her eyes remained burned into his memory. The terror that she'd felt…just like …he had felt…he wasn't really admitting it to himself…maybe he was.

She had made him feel so helpless. John grinded his teeth. He wanted to hurt her… He didn't know what he wanted to … Just something to her. Make her feel like he had felt. Make her pay.

It was bad enough to be tortured but for her to do this made him feel so…vulnerable. She had taken advantage of him and he decided he felt anger at that and at himself for not doing more to stop her.

Angry was his best face when he was hurt because then he wouldn't have to face the tears or the depression he knew was soon to follow his rage.

Sheppard sat up slowly, ignoring the pain and tossed the cup of slowly melting ice chips across the room. He wasn't going to let this get to him. He wasn't just another guy, he was a Lt. Colonel now and he was strong. Pain burst soon after the cup rolled under an infirmary bed, it was like every wound he had was on fire, not to mention his throat was parched now.

Carson, hearing the noise came running to a skidding halt in front of Sheppard's bed. He immediately went into action, making Sheppard lay back down, while he checked the wounds to see if they were bleeding again. After he had retrieved the cup and sent a nurse to clean up what little a mess there was, he sat down in chair near the bed to hopefully talk.

"Do you want to talk?" asked Carson, unsure as to what to say. In his entire career he'd only encountered two rape cases, but both had been female. Those he had had an idea how to handle but this…

Sheppard's response was to look at his arms, that he had lain across his belly just a few seconds previously, while kind of jutting out his lip, giving the impression that he was sulking.

Carson knew it was more than sulking but he didn't think he should push him, so he waited. After a few moments, Carson cleared his throat, hoping Sheppard would say something. Anything at all.

But Sheppard had closed his eyes and had turned his head to the other side. He was refusing to say anything and Carson knew it was best he didn't try further. He'd leave that to Dr. Heightmeyer. Right now he felt it was important for Sheppard to at least recover his health before answers were squeezed out of him.

"Well, I'll just get some more ice chips for you and let you recover but I'm here if you need to talk," offered Beckett, pushing the chair back to its position between the two infirmary beds.

After he had left, Sheppard opened his eyes. He had tried to talk but it was like he was out of sync. He couldn't explain the feeling. All these raw emotions he'd been shoving down because he hadn't wanted to reveal that vulnerability to his captor had now bubbled to the surface. He had showed her his vulnerability, because if he hadn't why would she have kept torturing him?

Squeezing his eyes shut, he held still as the nausea that had suddenly risen settled back down. Her words kept swirling in his mind.

…it is threatening to break free Sheppard. Come on…just let go. I know how it feels…that's it I want to see you cry. Your worthless…you are nothing but a plaything accept it…

Grunting he focused on his wounds. At least they helped get his mind off the misery swirling in his mind. Then again they stood as painful reminders of what she had done to him…

He hadn't cried, he knew that but he'd held onto every emotion he wanted to let out during it. Now he wasn't sure what would happen when he finally did let those emotions out but so far he'd done okay. Maybe he figured it was, in part, due to his inability to really express his emotions or properly relay them to others…maybe that was why he was shoving those emotions down as far as he could so that he didn't have to let them see what he'd gone through.

Or it could have been due to the fact that people looked up to him and if he let his guard down then he'd be disappointing them by showing his vulnerability. Everyone thought he was a laid back, pretty smooth guy who could handle himself well but the truth of the matter was he was laid back only because it was easier…easier then having to deal with the reality of his own emotions.

It was far easier to play the smooth guy then to take off the facade, even after being tortured and let the emotions out. People couldn't get too close if he didn't let them see who he really was. Of course, he thought, maybe it was just because he didn't know how to be anything other than laid back despite these emotions.

For some reason that old analogy of the wolf in sheep's clothing came to mind. Though he wasn't a wolf. In fact he was rather a sheep in wolf's clothing. Maybe what had happened, he thought, was that he was so used playing the act that all he knew was the act.

Shaking his head, Sheppard snorted slightly. Stupid analogy. Stupid thoughts. Why can't I just stop thinking?

He longed to just let the darkness of deep sleep take him but no matter how hard he tried little things popped into his mind. Her laughter, as she cut him. The feel of her on top of him, riding him. The confusion as to what or how he was suppose to react. His final release…

That's it…I want to hear you tell me to stop. Beg me to stop. Tell me you hate come on. What's wrong not enjoying this. I want to see you in pain…

A whimper escaped his lips as he remembered how she had dug hard on him, pushing down without bothering with lube or anything else. He hadn't thought it could hurt that bad but dry skin on dry skin never felt good.

Rolling his head back and forth to get comfortable he almost could hear the sound of his own breath. The same labored breathing he had after she'd cut up his shoulder and then stabbed him with the knife. That terrible sound, shing, as she withdrew the blade from his shoulder and plunged it into his chest. He was lucky to still be alive.

Clenching the sheets with his hands, he shut his eyes, maybe if he just thought about something else he could sleep.

4:50 pm

"How's he holding up?" asked Dr. Heightmeyer, her pen and paper tablet in hand.

Beckett crossed his arms at his desk. "Well, his injuries are healing. It may take at least a week or two before the knife wound heals but many of the other wounds he's sustained are purely superficial. I expect by next week he should be well enough. I would like to give it an extra week."

Lowering his head Carson took a deep breath. This was not going to be pleasant. Sheppard was notorious for skipping any sessions he could opt out with Dr. Heightmeyer.

"Good. Has he said anything so far?" asked Dr. Heightmeyer, her eyes traveling over Carson. He looked pale. Weary almost. She'd seen this sort of thing right after a rape case came in. It was never easy for patient nor doctor.

Emotions ran high in these type of situations and at the moment, since she couldn't do anything for Sheppard, she hoped she could help Beckett.

"Not much, he threw a cup of ice and he is listening. That's for sure," said Beckett, reaching for a cup of tea. Finding himself lost in thought for awhile; he could hear pencil scratching away at paper.

"Dr. Beckett?"

Her voice drew him away from his thoughts. "Yes?"

"And you? How are you feeling?"

Smiling, Beckett knew her intentions were only in his best interest still he wouldn't be drawn in. "Dr. Heightmeyer am I under the impression that you are trying to evaluate me?"

Shaking her head slightly with a grin she replied. "I'm only here to help. If the one person I can help is unavailable there is always someone connected to them who could use some help." He took her intentions as honorable and mentally closed the door. "Is this a conversation where I'm the patient…?"

She put her hand up and smiled again. "No, as one friend to another. I promise," and with that she put the top of the paper pad down on it and pocketed the pen.

5:30 pm

Finally sleep was close but something wet was trickling down his face, groaning he opened his eyes to look around. Was there a leak on the ceiling from something? Or was someone playing around with him? He noticed now for the first time that a privacy curtain had been put up in the back and things were being moved around.

He figured Beckett knew he was going to need some time so that was why the curtain was being set up. After awhile of dazed confusion, he finally touched his cheek, wiping away the wetness that had made him wake. When he looked at his hand, it was wet.

Weird, he thought. His eye itching, he rubbed it with his fist and felt moist liquid come away. Uncurling his fist, he looked at it. He was crying? It didn't make any sense.

It had to be his eyes were watering that was all. Right? Closing his eyes, a blanket of darkness pulling him under.

6:00 pm

"If there is anything else you need…" supplied Elizabeth, aware the loss was felt by many of Teyla's people. Even Ronon had known several of them and that was saying something.

After the initial sweep to find Serket, two of the security teams had come across another two Athosians and one Daedulus personnel. They were still putting the pieces together, trying to figure out how the Gou'ld had even made it onto the Daedulus in the first place. After the first incidence with Colonel Caldwell, new scanners, made of mostly Asgard technology, had been installed to identify any Gou'ld intruders. This woman had somehow fooled the scanners, Elizabeth's guess was that the cloak or shield or whatever Rodney had called it was the culprit.

"Thank you. We will have the proper ceremonies come tomorrow evening. Tonight my people will prepare them," said Teyla to Elizabeth.

Nodding, Elizabeth pulled a blue folder out from under a stack of folders.

This had been one week of havoc and destruction, one right after another. First it had started off with someone in McKay's lab exploding an ancient paint machine, leaving an awful mess. Elizabeth frowned at the thought, though it was not without its humor. Then a fight had broken out between two marines and a scientist, just the day after the lab explosion.

The fight had something to do with name-calling and a disagreement on professions, that much Elizabeth could gather. The military were noted for their dislike of civilian management and going about things. The next day after that, Lorne's team had returned with some kind of small eel stuck to the middle of Lorne's forehead. That had been a real eye opener. Nevermind the three failed diplomatic missions that the flagship team had gone, worlds were the Wraith had culled.

One had brought Rodney back with a tiki mask on his face and Sheppard wearing a fruit basket for a hat. That had been the other eye opener for the week.

Just after that when it was time off and she'd hoped to get some peace from all the craziness this week, the whole incident with Dr. Rivas and then Serket had jumped into view. Not to mention that four people were dead including the SGCIS agent sent to Atlantis.

Shaking her head, she scanned smaller folders for the one needed. Catching the appropriately labeled "Hell Day," she opened it and pulled out the team's recount of events. "Now I've re-read all your notes and have concluded that the only other person who can finish this is Sheppard and until he is better I'd ask that all of you to please leave discussion of this until he is ready. For now I want all of you to report to Dr. Heightmeyer, should you feel the need.

Turning to the form slumped in the chair, trying to sneak a cookie into his mouth, she frowned. "Rodney?"

Rodney's head popped up from his hand as he blinked. "Um…" He quickly hide the cookie in his pocket, while dodging the arrows whizzing at him from Elizabeth's eyes.

"I want you especially to see Dr. Heightmeyer, if nothing else, about Dr. Rivas."

"Fine…did the Daedulus leave yet?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Their on their way back to Earth. So the information?"

Rodney scratched his neck, watching Dr. Reeds slump down in a chair. "Oh you again?"

Dr. Reeds turned to him. "Yes me. The Daedulus will come back in a month. I'll be going back later. Right now my prime target is this Serket. So Doctor McKay the information?"

Rodney glared. "Right, yes well ehem. From all the footage we were able to find of this woman, it appears this device she was using, is in fact an advanced form of Ancient technology."

A few surprised looks and one or two curious gasps escaped all assembled. "What?" said Elizabeth, finding it hard to believe.

Handing out photos and notes on the devices, that had he managed to put together, and that were not damaged, he pointed to one particular photo. "This one uses a projection of a person. So essentially you could use a few scans of a person, like myself, and put it into this device and then look like them. Of course there are flaws with it such as if anyone touched you, that would disrupt the projection…"

Time Unknown, Place unknown

Trudging up the next grassy hill, she yanked on her prize in tow. A few well-placed kicks and his squeals ceased. It had been difficult to drag him but since she no longer possessed the strength of a Gou'ld she had had to do it this way.

The wind had begun to pick up and was blowing weeds and dust into her face. Coughing, she shielded herself with one hand and tugged harder with the other. She was so close, it would only take one more piece of "research" and she would have all she wanted and more.

Finally her dreams of a power and dominance would be hers; all she needed to do was to get back to the ship. Trudging further through the grass, she heard two Wraith darts zoom in the distance.

She had to hurry, there was no time to waste. Just a few more steps and she'd be close. Coughing again, she felt something running down her chin. There wasn't time to look. Giving up on using one hand she turned and yanked with both hands to pull her prisoner into the ship.

Giggling once she had made it inside, she cloaked her ship and took off.

Those humans had no idea what she was and what she could do. She'd fooled them good. That Gou'ld had worked like a charm and the whole story too. She just couldn't help smiling and she'd got a good ride in for her trouble as well. That John Sheppard, she would have to look him up later when she had her target.

Laughing harder she slipped and deactivated the cloak just in time for the two Wraith darts to see her ship and fire. One of the drive pods took heavy damage and despite the quick switch back into cloak, her ship was losing power. It was crashing and it was taking everything down with it. Racing into the back of the ship, she released the bonds on the female wraith.

The Wraith scrabbled away from her and pounced towards her. She knew there wasn't much time left, diving for the Wraith's hand she pressed it against her chest. The Wraith thought it had won and happily drained her life from her that was until it saw a glowing white-blue, snake like creature slop onto the floor from her mouth.

The Wraith continued to drain her until there was nothing left, only to scream as the slimy slug climbed up her body to go down her throat. As the ship pummeled towards the dense forestry, the Wraith grinned.

"It worked."

And with that the doors to the jumper opened knocking her and everything else out, scattering it across the forest floor, just as the ship impacted with a explosion into the earth.

Two Wraith darts whizzed past only to have one return and send a beam down. It was carrying one passenger.

Their Queen.

9:00 pm - Tuesday

Teyla walked down the hallway to the infirmary; it was quiet and calm. Something that was very rare on Atlantis now days. It seemed like just a day or two ago, things had been pretty normal compared to this. She had wanted to check on Sheppard earlier but duty to the families that had lost a member, she hadn't the time.

The last time she'd talked with him, it had been a one sided sort of chat. He hadn't looked well at the time. Whatever or where ever this woman was, she had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last time they would see of her. Putting aside those dark thoughts, she stopped as the sound of weeping caught her ear.

Peering over the edge of the window to the infirmary doors, she saw nothing but a curtain in the back of the infirmary. Carson must have moved him there for more privacy. She didn't blame him either, after what John had been through…

She decided it was best not to disturb him but waited a while longer, listening as the occasional sorrowful sniffle or moan reached her ears. When a nurse came up to the infirmary doors to enter she moved but put a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"He needs to be left alone," said Teyla, her eyes stern and her mouth set in a grime line.

The nurse listened for a few seconds before nodding and returning to the other smaller infirmary. While Atlantis had thick walls the one thing that was unique was the infirmary. It had a few medical office rooms for staff and then there was the infirmary itself right next to them. The office rooms had slightly thinner walls allowing for sound to more easily penetrate between them and the infirmary.

Whether it had anything to do with poor construction or some kind of medical reason, Teyla did not know. All she knew was that John needed space and it was the least she could for him, seeing as anything else was out of the question.

Backing away from the infirmary Teyla went to the mess hall only to find Ronon, Rodney and Elizabeth all seated together. Rodney and Elizabeth had coffee in front of them while Ronon had a Danish on a plate. Teyla had been introduced to them awhile back, they weren't much different than what her people made for dessert foods.

Sitting down, she looked over at Rodney. He wasn't eating this time but he was drinking coffee by the gulp. When Elizabeth looked up from the paper she was reading, it was to stare at Rodney, who was lost in thought.

Ronon, Teyla noticed, was oddly silent, picking at the edges of the Danish. They all felt bad because this should never have happened to John. In one way or another they all felt responsible but now there wasn't anything they could do except wait for him to recover and hopefully repair whatever damage he'd sustained mentally and emotionally.

The physical recovery would take awhile, without a doubt, but the mental and emotional one… Teyla knew that no matter how badly he'd been tortured and abused that his friends would be there. It was just a matter of him accepting that help.

A Week Later…

12:30 am

Carson had just finished putting the files away on several members of a recent mission gone bad when he heard footsteps. It was probably just a nurse. His eyes straying to a folder still resting on his desk, made him take a look out his office window.

It was Sheppard. He was still recovering but was well enough to return to his own room. Carson had resisted but in the end for Sheppard's sanity and his own he had allowed him to go. There had been little progress from the two sessions with Dr. Heightmeyer, at least from what he'd heard.

There wasn't much he could contribute to the situation, as mental and emotional trauma was not his specialty however he did know how to lend a hand to a friend in need. Seeing Sheppard was sleeping in the infirmary tonight he lowered the lights a little more and waited. Once he heard Sheppard tossing for the fifth time, he walked out of his office to check.

Sheppard was laying on his side the thin sheets pulled over his head, as if to protect himself. He was shivering and Beckett could hear an occasional sniffle. He couldn't say it was crying because it sounded more like a stuffed up nose kind of thing. So returning to his office he picked up a blanket, some aspirin, a bottle of water and a box of tissues.

Quietly he walked over, upon his approach, he saw Sheppard stiffen. Slowly he lowered the articles down onto the chair near the bed and then unrolled the blanket to lay on top of him. After he was sure everything was covered he whispered a quick –I-left-a-few-things-here-on-the-chair-and-I'm-here-if-you-need-anything-else- before returning to his office.

Once Carson had left, Sheppard poked his head out and took the aspirin with a swig of water. Getting up once he had blew his nose, he went to Carson's office and knocked on the door. As soon as Carson entered, he cleared his throat. "Thanks…"

"No problem," said Carson, a mug in hand.

After a few awkward moments of silence passed Sheppard backed away. "Well…ah…goodnight." Once he had returned to bed, he lay down and found himself squeezing the pillow just a little tighter and closer to his head.

He was safe there was no reason to worry. She wasn't here.

But why then was he still unable to sleep? Asked his mind. To that he had no answer only that time would mend him… He hoped.

For awhile longer he lay there as his headache subsided and he felt his muscles relax until sleep claimed him. It was then in the darkness, he heard her voice.

Hello Sheppard…time to wake up and do my bidding…wake up..

Jerking awake, he felt his skin was coated with sweat. His eyes scanned the room but there was nothing there.

"Nothing but a dream," he told himself and lay back down but once he closed his eyes he heard it again.

And you thought it was over…this is just the beginning John…

Jerking awake, John looked around the infirmary. It was early in the morning he knew that. He also knew he had dreamed her voice and waking up. Feeling the sweat trickle down his neck he wiped it away and couldn't help thinking about something she'd done to him when he'd been unconscious. Maybe…

Nah…she wasn't a Wraith and he wasn't like Teyla…there was no reason to worry. Feeling relieved he lay back down but pulled the blankets closer around him. He had several more sessions with Heightmeyer and he still was recovering. Soon enough he'd be back on missions and everything would be fine.

Denying himself, the emotions that turned beneath his skull, he wouldn't break down again. He'd been sure someone must have heard him. It had been sudden the wave of tears and the break down not long ago. He guessed it had been good for him but he wouldn't let it happen again.

He was Lt. Colonel John Sheppard and he would not yield.

A/N: Well there is the end folks. I'm done but I promise a surprise and of course a little mix. So without further announcement or delay the next fic is a request fic that will be the continuation of this fic Going Commando. It will involve Amazonian women and Sheppard so…oh boy…and I won't say anything about our she-devil woman so you'll have to figure that one out for your self. Thank you for your support, comments and continued reading of this fic. Stay tuned until later this week for the next fic. Valmar out!

New: The sequel is nearing a finish, at least the first chapter. Keep your eyes open.