The previous chapters and this one were written before the last half of the third season of Supernatural aired.

Title: Shadow Play
Author: Cindy Ryan
Timeline: SG-1, SGA and Supernatural are AU

Sam swallowed the bile that had risen into his throat. Dean's injuries had confirmed Sam's worst fears. Dean really was in Hell and they were hurting him. Torturing him, more likely.

Sam had known this could happen when Dean's deal ran out. He had known what Dean would endure in Hell wouldn't be pretty.

Since Cold Oak, Sam had experienced many a sleepless, nightmare-infused night. His guilt-plagued mind conjuring up many scenarios of what Dean would go through after the Hellhounds came.

However, Sam had never expected to see it.

"Sam?" Beckett prompted with concern.

Sam tore his gaze away from Dean and looked at Atlantis' chief medical officer. Explaining his life to Weir and Sheppard had been daunting enough. Now Sam had to do it again.

Though Sam couldn't help but wonder how much Beckett would believe. He knew the Scot had to have seen a lot being in another galaxy but doctors were tethered in science and medicine.
Tethered to logic and reason.

"Sam, if you know somethin' that'll help me save your brother I need to know what it is," Carson implored as he placed a gentle hand on Sam's arm, mindful of his recent injury. "You can trust me, lad."

Sam nodded. "Doctor, you might want to take a seat. What I have to say is going to take some time."

Beckett studied the younger man for a moment before he pulled a chair away from the wall and placed it near Dean's bed. He sat down and waited for Sam to continue.

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and once again started at the beginning.

Dean didn't know how, he probably never would. Call it instinct, call it a guardian angel. Whatever it was caused him to wake up in the nick of time.
Literally.

The bullman's ax was just millimeters from Dean's neck when he woke. With renewed strength, Dean grabbed the handle of the ax and used the momentum to throw the Minotaur off balance.

The bullman growled and hefted the ax, lifting Dean off the ground in the process. Dean let go of the handle and reached for the Minotaur's face. He dug his fingernails into the creature's eyes.

The bullman howled in pain, causing the ax to slip. As it slipped, the blade hit the top of Dean's right hand.

Dean cursed as blood flowed freely from the deep cut. Still hanging on to the ax with his good hand, Dean swung his feet up and hit the bullman in the chest, almost at the neck line.

The two warriors went down in a tangle. The ax bounced to the ground a few feet away. Dean ripped the helmet away from the Minotaur. He knew that, with most creatures, the head was the most vulnerable.

The Minotaur wasn't done yet. The bullman stood and regained his footing.

Reacting on instinct or maybe a memory from a favorite classic horror flick, Dean grasped the Minotuar's horn. Just as he had partially ripped the horn off of the skull, the creature began to fight once again.

However, Dean hung on in an eight second ride that would make any professional bull rider proud. The creature thrust and bucked trying in vain to shake Dean off. He reached behind and clawed at Dean's forearms and hands. Dean ignored the pain and finally ripped the horn free.

The Minotaur let out a bone chilling wail as it fell to its knees. Dean turned the horn over so its pointed end was downward. He crushed it into the Minotuar's exposed head.

"Why do we always cut it so close?" Rodney wondered as he finally reached the computer consol in the control room. The readouts he saw did nothing to brighten his mood.

"Wouldn't be normal if we didn't," John countered, his gaze never leaving the screen in front of him.

"I could do without the normalcy for awhile," Rodney muttered as his fingers flew across the console. There was only so much he could do with what he had to work with. Rodney wasn't sure he could pull off a miracle this time.

The city shook from another blast.

John had enough. He leaned over Hansen's shoulder. "Target the underside of the ship, toward the back. Should be the most vulnerable spot."

The young lieutenant nodded as she hit the correct buttons. Then a frown crossed Hansen's face as she shook her head.

"Getting interference. Platform's not responding."

"Rodney?" Weir prompted.

Rodney gripped the console for support as the ship fired again. "I've rerouted everything I can, but we're still at only forty percent. We can't last like this for long."

"What about the interference?" Elizabeth asked.

"Working on it," McKay stated, not looking up from the console. "Even if I do manage to cut the interference, we won't have much juice left in the platform."

"All we need is one good shot.," Sheppard commented as he pulled up a closer image of the ship and moved over so Weir and Jackson could see. "It's smaller than a Wraith hive… just need a clear shot across the stern and it should at least take out their engines."

"Try the platform now," McKay interjected

"Interference is gone," Hansen acknowledged. "Platform is at sixty percent."

"Fire, Lieutenant," Weir ordered quietly.

"Weakened their shields considerably but didn't take out the engines," Hansen reported.

"Rodney, do we have enough for another shot?" Weir asked.

"We may not have to, look," Jackson pointed out before McKay could reply. "They're leaving."

"Why does that seem too easy?" McKay asked as he joined the trio.

"Let's not question a good thing," Weir commented as she moved slightly away from the console.

"Do you want me to take a jumper up and say hello?" Sheppard asked, not quite ready to let their enemy go so quietly.

Elizabeth thought for a moment than shook her head. "No, let them go. I need you to start assembling repair crews... We need to know how much damage they did. Rodney, table your work on the gate for now, I need the shield back up to full power as soon as possible."

"It's going to take some time," Rodney replied quietly. "This really depleted our energy sources."

"Do what you can. I don't want this attack leaving us vulnerable for the Wraith," Weir stated as she turned back to Jackson. "Daniel, if you'll follow me, I'll take you to our guests."