Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Thanks, as usual, to the lovely Kodiak for keeping me on the straight and narrow!

Chapter 2.

Carson had given John the promised medication several hours before, yet John still wasn't feeling the benefit. His nausea had continued to the point that Carson had needed to put in a second IV line, this time in John's right hand. He had started to become dehydrated, and as John couldn't even keep a few sips of water down, and was sweating out the fluids from his existing IV, another line was essential, so Carson had explained. That had left John with both hands sore and aching, and complaining every time he moved them. Those were the least of his problems though.

John's stomach felt like someone had kicked him repeatedly, his throat burned and his back ached mercilessly. He also felt feverish and sweaty, and was finding it hard to concentrate. He felt so tired; exhausted summed his present mood, yet much needed sleep eluded him. Every time he shut his eyes and drifted into a restless slumber, he saw the wraith above him, and even felt the hand on his chest – and the agonising pain that had followed that.

Opening sweat-filled eyes, John saw Teyla's blurry features above him.

"Teyla?" he asked groggily.

John saw the Athosian smiling compassionately down at him.

"I would ask how you are feeling, but I can see that you are unwell. Can I do anything to help?"

John stifled the small chuckle that threatened to hysterically leave his dry lips.

"You could shoot me. Put me out of my misery," he answered, not entirely without levity.

Teyla's face showed both her indignation and surprise at John's words.

"I will do no such thing. We nearly lost you, John, and though I am sorry you are hurting, I am glad you are at least here to feel your pain, as unpleasant as that is for you. We could have lost you – I thought we had," she replied sternly, but with emotion tinged in her voice.

Ouch. John flinched at the gentle rebuke in his friend's voice. Teyla was right, as usual. Yes, he felt like crap, yes, John knew he was in for a rough couple of days, if he was lucky, but he was alive – and young, and that was something he should be grateful for.

"Sorry. Just not feeling so great at the moment. Just ignore me," John replied as he swallowed down another bout of nausea.

John felt Teyla gently wipe a cool cloth across his hot forehead, and he let out an involuntary sigh.

"You do not need to apologise, John. You have been though more than anyone should. Perhaps if you talked about it…"

"No!'

John's answer was short and to the point and he was a little surprised at his anger.

Teyla smiled again, John noticed, as he peered at her through his half-lidded eyes.

"I understand. Shall I sit with you, or would you like me to leave?"

If John had felt bad before, he felt much worse after his little uncontrolled outburst. Teyla's understanding and sensitive nature really made him feel…small, and pathetic in comparison.

"God, I'm sorry, Teyla. It's just…" John closed his eyes as he tried to put into words what he was feeling. "Every time I close my eyes…I…I see him, and I feel the pain of him feeding on me. It's bad enough that I feel like crap, without having to come to terms with being fed on, and everybody watching…" John faltered again, as his grip on his emotions started to waver. His carefully constructed wall of emotional indifference was crumbling, and he didn't want anyone to see him trying to fight his way out of the rubble.

John felt a cool hand on his arm.

"You do not have to say anything," Teyla gently soothed. "If what happened to you had happened to me, I would be feeling humiliation now; frustration and anger at my violation and inability to escape my torturers. That my friends had witnessed my torture…it would be very painful for me to come to terms with, and I understand how you must be feeling." John felt a small waft of warm air caress his face as Teyla chuckled. "However, I know you have difficulty expressing these feelings to me. I know you would tell me those things if you were able to say them out loud."

John sighed and looked up at Teyla.

"You know me too well."

"I think I do. You are dreaming because you have a fever. You should rest now. Carson says sleep will help you to heal," Teyla explained.

"Where's Ronon? Is he okay, and Rodney?" John asked in concern, suddenly remembering that he hadn't seen his two other team-members since his incarceration in the infirmary.

Teyla shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Rodney is most upset, Elizabeth sent him to see Dr. Heightmeyer. He is presently in his lab, working. Though I do not think he will accomplish much," Telya reported evenly. "Ronon is…angry. He is 'letting off steam', as you would say, in the gym with some of the marines. I do not think the marines will be happy in the morning."

John smiled tiredly, and pain crossed his features as a spike of agony from his flank radiated upwards and outwards again.

"Don't suppose they will. Are you ok?" John asked a little quickly, trying to get past his pain.

Teyla creased her brow at John's question, noticing her friend's discomfort.

"I am fine. It is enough that you have been returned safely to us, nothing else matters. You should sleep. I will stay."

"'Kay. Thanks."

John closed his eyes, and drifted into a restless sleep as he felt Teyla gently wipe the cool cloth across his forehead again.

-oOo-

The pain was indescribable. Nerves screamed in agony at their abuse. Pain radiated from his chest, snaking down his torso, up into his shoulders, into his arms, and stole his breath away. John felt the tacky warmth of blood above his heart, and shivered as he felt his life being stolen away from him. Being unable to bear it any longer, he did what he had tried not to do – he screamed. He cried out until his throat burned and he had no breath left, until the pain finally ebbed away - leaving John spent, shuddering and panting. He felt the salty tang of tears in his mouth, and knew he should have been furious at his weakness in giving in to his tormentor. The wraith craved his fear, longed to bear witness to his pain, but John was past caring.

In the distance, he heard a soft voice calling him, and as he came back to himself, John realised it wasn't the wraith or Kolya demanding his attention - it was a familiar Scottish brogue.

"Colonel. It's all right, Son. It's just a dream. It's over, I promise you. That's it, Lad. Try and breathe slowly and deeply for me."

John felt something being placed over his mouth and nose – a mask. He recognised the familiar hiss of the oxygen and greedily breathed in the much-needed gas.

Moaning, as he rolled his head slightly to the side, John managed to prise open his eyes, and sure enough, Carson's face gradually came in to focus.

"That's better. I know you're confused and frightened, but you're safe, in the infirmary on Atlantis. You've taken a turn for the worse, I'm afraid. That's why you've been having these nasty old dreams." John saw the pained look on the doctor's face. "You've got a wee build up of toxins in your blood, and a nasty fever, and that's why you're not feeling so good."

"Don't let it feed on me again - please? It hurts," John pleaded breathlessly in his confusion, as he weakly batted away the mask covering his face. Why was Beckett there and not helping him? "I…I can feel it taking my life, and there's nothing I can do…I don't think…I…I can't take any more." John closed his eyes in shame that he'd begged for his torment to end.

"It's okay, Son. Listen to me, it's over. You're on Atlantis. You're safe, and everything's going to be all right."

John felt a tug on his hand, and flinched away. What were they doing to him now?

"I'm just giving you something to help you relax, Colonel. You need to sleep, and this will help."

John groaned as another wave of pain assaulted him, deep in his flank. Ronon. Where was Ronon? He'd end this.

"Can you find Ronon? He'd…he'd stop the wraith…and Kolya. Wouldn't hesitate to kill him…I did, and look…where that's got me…Won't make…mistake…'gain."

Carson sighed in relief as his patient finally succumbed to the medication, but bit his lower lip as he took in John's words. Carson mused that Ronon wouldn't be needed if he got anywhere near Kolya in the future. He may be a doctor, but even doctors could be pushed too far.

Carson checked over John one last time, gently replacing the mask John had dislodged, and headed towards his office to catch up on much needed paperwork.

-oOo-

Several hours later, Carson looked up from his messy desk to see Elizabeth approaching, anxiety obvious on her care-worn features.

"I just went to see John, and he was…I don't know what he was, as your nurse chased me away. Carson, he was screaming in agony. What the hell's wrong with him?"

Carson stood, and guided Elizabeth to a chair, and walked to a nearby table, pouring her a cup of coffee from the jug simmering there. Passing the steaming cup to Atlantis' distressed leader, he walked back to his desk, and sat, putting his own cup down, before running a weary hand though his hair

"His kidneys are failing. He's delirious, feverish, and to complicate matters, the wraith enzyme is pumping around his system." Carson reached and snagged his mug, taking a cautious sip of the coffee, before returning it to its former resting-place. "I've also discovered another enzyme in his blood, and I have no idea what it is or does. Quite simply, he's a mess. He keeps hallucinating and re-living the feedings he suffered, and no amount of soothing or reassuring helps, I'm afraid. It's very distressing for my staff, and as for the poor Colonel…" Carson's worlds trailed off, and he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Elizabeth nodded, and chewed her lip, before cradling her own cup to her chest, trying to find comfort in the warmth radiating from the china.

"What can we do? Can we get some enzyme and wean him off it?"

Carson exhaled and briefly closed his eyes.

"I don't know how much that would help. It's not simple withdrawal he's going through. Any more enzyme could kill him, and it's possibly the other, unidentified enzyme that's causing the complications with his kidneys. His body has suffered terrible trauma, and there were bound to be consequences."

Carson exhaled, and took in a deep breath. "If he continues to deteriorate, I'll have no choice but to send him back to Earth for dialysis. I just don't have the equipment I need here, and the medications I've got the colonel on, just don't seem to be helping at the moment."

Weir sighed and sipped her drink.

"How long before we get to that stage?"

"He's not producing any urine at the moment, which is why his body is such a mess, or partly why. His kidneys are failing to filter the toxins from his body, and he's retaining fluids. If there's no improvement in the next twelve hours or so, we should go ahead and send him through the 'gate. He'll stand a better chance on Earth."

Elizabeth exhaled and pursed her lips.

"Can he recover from this?"

"Yes. Acute renal failure is totally reversible, especially if it's due to narcotic or toxic poisoning, which I believe is somewhat akin to what the colonel's suffering from. If it's not, and his whole body is failing, then I'd have expected to see some signs of multiple organ failure, and as yet, I haven't."

Elizabeth smiled slightly, and her eyes searched Carson's face hopefully.

"That's good, isn't it?"

Carson sipped the last of his coffee, and grunted.

"Yes. Multiple organ failure would not be a good thing right now. Don't get me wrong, even if the colonel recovers quickly from this, there are still possible problems ahead. Infection's a risk, for one."

Carson was interrupted by one of his nurses rushing into his office.

"Doctor Beckett? Melissa asked me to get you. Colonel Sheppard's seizing!"

"Damn. Wait here, Elizabeth. I'll let you know when I have any news," Carson shouted as he ran from his office at full pelt.

Elizabeth watched in shock as the doctor left, and let her head fall into her hands.

Lifting her head, she sighed.

"Oh, John. What now?"

Tbc.