When the lights went out in my cell, I was plunged into inky blackness and complete silence.
The only sounds I could hear were the dull echo of my breathing and the scratchiness of the rough linen on my bed when I shifted. Although I had access to water from the washroom setup in the other corner of my cell, my stomach started to twist and growl with hunger after a while. I had no sense of the passage of time in the quiet darkness, but I'm sure many hours passed, eventually stretching into days, before I heard anything besides myself. Where was Colonel Sheppard? Where were Rodney and Teyla and Ronon? I thought it doubtful that Michael could've gotten me off-world without me knowing, so shouldn't they have been able to follow him? Shouldn't they be able to track us down? What could be taking them so long to rescue me?
The lights suddenly flickered into life with a steady hum, temporarily blinding me, and moments later I heard a key being turned in the lock to my cell door. The door opened slowly with a loud creak to admit Michael, and then closed behind him.
"Good morning, Doctor," he greeted me with mock cheerfulness. "Did you sleep well?"
I chose not to give him the benefit of an answer.
He smiled at me as if he knew some secret that I didn't, then pulled a small cloth sack from his belt and tossed it to me. "Eat. You need to keep your strength up."
I hesitantly opened the sack to find a chunk of stale bread and a few strips of cured meat. My mouth watered and my stomach twisted in my gut at the faint aroma from the paltry meal, but I was determined not to let him sway my resolve. Without a word, I threw the food at him and spit at his face, and his smug pretense dissolved into a grimace of pure rage. Fear then gripped me like I had never felt before, and I was petrified by it. It felt like his eyes were boring straight into my brain, and then the sensation twisted. I screamed with pain and terror and would've fallen, but I felt his hand close around my throat and shove me back against the wall.
With each breath I fought to take in, I began to feel violated as my mind was unlocked to him, like opening drawer in a desk that he was now rummaging through in an effort to glean some useful information. I tried to shut him out, tried to think of something, anything that would distract me from thinking about the things he wanted to know. I allowed the memory of Rodney's face to fill my mind and concentrated on it. Where are you, my friend? Why aren't you here yet? Michael squeezed harder, bringing me crashing back into the real world. A black haze of unconsciousness now loomed at the edge of my vision.
"They aren't coming," he snarled angrily. A spiteful grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. "In fact, they aren't even looking for you. There is so much useful information in your mind, just waiting to be used in my research..."
I didn't want to believe it could be true. I wanted to call him a liar, but whatever influence he had over my mind was assuring me that the truth was far too enjoyable for him to be lying. Why wouldn't they be looking for me? I could almost hear Colonel Sheppard in my head. 'We don't leave our people behind.' How could he possibly know they won't come for me? No, I won't believe it! I won't believe they'd abandon me! I clenched my eyes shut so I wouldn't see his smile, denying him what little satisfaction I could.
When I was finally released, I fell to the floor gasping for breath. Both physically and mentally exhausted, I hadn't the ability to do much except curl up into a ball and hope he was finished. He considered me for a moment before he knelt down and spoke softly. "There will be no escape from this place for you, Doctor. Your friends will never find you. You've given me so much information already, but I will be patient. Rest assured though that if you continue to defy me, the pain you experienced today will have only just begun."
After that, he left me to the darkness. I soon began to feel alone in my mind again as well. I thought about the hellish nightmare that I'd just experienced and wasn't so sure I could bear to have my mind torn and picked apart like that again. But what defense was there against an alien creature that could enter your mind at will, pick and choose amongst your memories like a buffet, and leave a trail of pain and destruction in its wake?
Hopelessness and despair threatened to overwhelm me as I strained to pull myself back up onto my bed. Starvation wasn't the kind of death I'd hoped for myself at the end, but if there really was to be no rescue as he claimed, it seemed to be the only means I had left to me to refuse him. But even then, considering Michael was a Wraith and could give life as well as take it, perhaps my death might not come soon enough.