A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews, here is chapter 2.

WHIP NO MORE

By ErikaHK

Chapter 2

Rodney remained on the same spot glancing at all sides. He saw a trail that formed when he disturbed the stillness of the forest. He could always redo his steps, but he hesitated before going back to unfriendly territory. The dealers weren't aware of his presence, or at least he hoped so. He took out his sensor to track down any life signs and started walking his way back.

He frowned as he walked step after another, glancing from the hand sensor to his surroundings trying to get a sense of familiarity from the trees around him. But it didn't happen. He continued pacing slowly, going over the smashed bushes and broken branches on the ground. He wasn't really proud of his skills of tracking, but it was very easy to follow the trail that he made. If it was easy for him, it would be a lot more to the dealers if they discovered his escape.

He was in such a deep trouble now. What if he wasn't able to find the stargate? What if he got even more stranded inside the forest and never got out of that stupid planet? What if he got captured too? He stopped his pace and considered all the possible fates he could suffer lost and abandoned on an alien planet. He could starve, maybe freeze on the possibly chilly night, be eaten by wild animals, shot by the evil arm smugglers, or worse; he could be captured and tortured by them.

Torture. What kinds of torture were his friends facing on their hands? They could be dead right now for all he knew. All their hope of escape was him: Meredith Rodney McKay. They were screwed. What could he do against a professional band of mercenaries and dealers?

"Nonononono. Focus. Help them. I've got to help them."

He resumed his walking with a rising determination. He had the brain. He would get over this. He grimaced and winced at the pathetic effort of optimism and let himself be overrun by the feeling of death and doom again. After a few seconds he took a deep breath and resumed walking again.

The forest continued unfamiliar for a few minutes and he continued apprehensive until he saw a large old tree. He remembered it from before. They passed it on the way to the camp and he joked about how it looked like a scary tree he had on his backyard when he was a kid. It used to be the home of squirrels that sometimes woke him up on the morning making loud noises. He hated squirrels since then and he hated the tree too. That meant that he was halfway back to the stargate. He only had to figure out the direction he had to follow from there.

What a turn of fate. How come I didn't see it before? He imagined it was because he was running so fast and concerned about the team's horrible fate that his vision was only one big blur. With a new sense of hope he smiled and chose the general direction he imagined would be logical to follow.

…

The door busted open. Startled, John covered the sudden brightness with his hand until his vision adjusted. The two big men entered the small cell and grabbed him harshly, forcing him to stand. They dragged him out with the same gentle hands they showed before. These guys really need to learn some manners. He didn't resist and was taken to a building similar to all the others of the camp, but it was bigger and resembled a warehouse. Inside was empty, except for a chair and a table. They shoved him in. He tripped, but quickly recovered.

He approached the chair and was indicated to sit down.

"What is this? Am I invited to the afternoon tea?" John asked sarcastically as he obeyed the men.

As soon as he sat the leader walked in from the door and sat on the edge of the table.

"No tea?" John teased the man.

"Your woman friend is very beautiful." The man said with a deep voice. "You collaborate with me and I may not let my men have her." He wore an unreadable mask.

"You try that." John's expression turned into a grim.

"You are their leader. You can finish this before things turn gray, and I assure you: they will." He narrowed his eyes and got closer as he said the last two words.

"You are wasting your breath. I'm not gonna say anything."

"Very well, we'll do it on the hard way then." The man got up and left through the door.

The two guards held him up and pushed him outside. They took him to the center of the camp where a group of poles stood and tied him to one with his arms over his head. One man turned him to his back, ripped his shirt open while the two others held him tightly on position. He already new what was to come. John closed his eyes and pressed his face against the wooden stake, preparing himself to the pain he new he was going to experience next.

The first strike came. He squeezed his eyes and swallowed a grunt as a shockwave of pain spread from his back. Before the pain eased, another strike came, and a third and fourth. Each time the leather hit his exposed skin, a surge of agony shot across his whole body like a lightning strike that increased after each blow. The entire time he kept his eyes shut, holding his breath as a way of suppressing a yell. He panted after the strike and held it again before the next, resisting with all his nerves the need to yell.

The sound of the whip echoed through the camp. As much as John resisted, he couldn't avoid the quiver after each explosion of pain and the silent grunt that escaped his pursed lips when the leather broke his skin. It became worse when the whip hit the uncovered flesh provoking the sensation of an electric shock burning beneath. He tasted the blood from the lips he was biting, his face burning with anger and forehead sprinkled with sweat.

After several minutes he was so painful and breathless he let out a cracked yell just as the last strike made him limp in the arms of the guards. His legs felt like jell-o and couldn't support his weight any longer. His throbbing back emanated heat throughout his body that trembled unnoticeably except by touch. He opened his eyes faintly and watched the blond man kneeling before him.

"Your word?" He asked serious.

"Screw… you." John answered weakly between heavy breaths.

The man thinned his lips and nodded. He got up and approached another guard.

"Bring the woman."

The guard smiled and left for a cell next to John's. He came back with a set of two more guards bringing Teyla under weapon's watch.

John watched her eyes surveying the camp until they encountered him hanging by his hands on the stake. He tried feebly to keep his head up and sustain his body as an attempt to show her some confidence, but his legs shook and failed to stand. He made a severe face and silently spoke to her to be strong, his eyes turned briefly to show an apology for what was to come. She had a worried face that glared at his. Her face showed that she received his message and then became stern as the guard tied her hands on the next stake in the same fashion as his.

It was her turn now, and he was going to watch her suffer like he did. The man knew that none of them would say a word, but he liked to torture them anyway. Sick bastard. After Teyla, Ronon would come, and after him it would start all over again, until they couldn't stand it anymore. But John would make sure to tell with the last breath of his body where the man should go.

As the sound of the whip reverberated, he half expected it to hit him instead of her. At each wince of her body he wished he could be at her place and spare her from this affliction. He suffered with her every time he heard the leather hitting her back, feeling his own burning as well. He watched the pain in her eyes and closed his, forcing himself to resist. He knew this was just the beginning and there was nothing he could do while watching his friends enduring torture.

…

There it was again. The same sound. A hack through air coming to a painful end on someone's skin. He knew what it was and who was being tortured.

Ronon waited anxiously inside his cell for his turn, his fists in a tight grasp. Freyr's time would come and he would be the one to deliver the final blow. He swore that seven years ago upon watching the destruction he had caused.

Ronon ran trough a grassy valley stumbling, limping, holding a fractured arm and cursing Freyr's name for keeping him loocked up in that planet. He had to get out before it was too late. But it was. Above him a wraith cruiser formed a giant shadow on the town he left behind. He watched in horror as the darts were launched to cull the helpless inhabitants. Even from far he could hear the screaming.

They didn't deserve that. No one does. But Freyr's taste for payback went beyond cruelty. He was evil. No human would take pride on causing the extinction of an entire population by the wraith just to make an example for the next buyer. And he was used for this purpose. The wraithbringer.

His wanderings were interrupted by the sudden bang of the door. Two men stood outside armed waiting for him to exit. When he didn't, they lifted their weapons and smiled.

"Obey." One said jerking his head and moving to let him see behind him.

He saw Sheppard and Teyla tied at the stakes on the center of the camp, beaten and weak. Between both was Freyr with a whip and a smile. He cocked the whip glancing briefly to the colonel hanging by his wrists. Ronon understood the warning and scowled at him walking slowly.

He let the guards guide him closer to his target and acted grabbing Freyr's whip and pulling him away from the prisoners on an abrupt blow against one of the armed men. He quickly grabbed the weapon from the other one and fired. The guard fell unceremoniously to the ground and was soon joined by the second one. He moved to target Freyr only to see twenty guards around the square aiming at him. He continued at the same posture wary of his surroundings. The guards took a step forward and some pointed their guns at Sheppard and Teyla.

"Ronon. How long has it been?" Freyr spoke.

Ronon continued to glare angrily at Freyr.

"Still wild. I expected you to be dead after all this time. But it looks like you continue to bring doom to others." The blond man said calmly.

"Like you?" Ronon answered back, he narrowed his eyes and spoke coldly the man's name as if it gave him power. "Freyr?"

The man laughed. "Business is business. I was really hoping you wouldn't take it personally. After all, it was just another village from… how many? Hmmm? Tell me."

Ronon snarled in response and tightened his grip on his weapon. He gave a step forward touching the man's chest with it.

"Ronon, don't." Teyla spoke warningly beside him.

"Do you really care if you and" He glanced behind "your friends die if you get to kill me?" Freyr glared back at Ronon with the same intensity as before.

"I do." Ronon said lowering his gun.

…

TBC…