Hi all. Well, here is a bit of angst and comfort stuff. Thanks to my beta (see other chapters) and also to highonscifi. She noticed a rather moderate size inconsistency in the story.

Oh, I could not respond back to a couple of the PMs but wanted to say I am never offended by constructive feedback. I might not always agree, but I always think about it and I totally appreciate it!!

Chapter 12 A Reluctant Vader?

O'Neill allowed himself to be guided to the nearest bed. He accepted chastisement for self- medicating himself with a head injury, water and then reluctantly an IV after he dressed himself into some sort of scrubs. After nearly an hour they finally left him alone with a promise to wake him up regularly for at least the next 24 hours. Diagnosis: grade 1 almost grade II concussion. Hell, had worse, much worse, he thought. He dozed off still blaming himself for their capture.

He woke with a start, head pounding. He vaguely remembered being awakened several times before, but this time it was on his own. He could hear a beeping noise and looked around to find the source. He looked across from him to the left and saw a heart monitor and Sheppard with a ventilator. What the hell!

"Doc!" He said trying to sit up. "Doc!"

Beckett came rushing in. "Aye, general? What is wrong?" he asked looking O'Neill over.

"You said he was going to be okay." In his book people on ventilators were not okay.

"What? Oh, aye, he is, general. We had to put him under general anesthesia after he warmed up first mind you, for minor surgery on the arm to make sure it set correctly with no difficulties. It was an unusual break that appeared had been injured again after the break. He just got back a few minutes ago." O'Neill had an instant flashback to Sheppard pulling him up the ledge. "Nothing too serious, but I wanted to make the lad comfortable. We also needed to finish cleaning him up, gash on his head was nasty, lungs had a bit of fluid. The vent will come out shortly. He just had a wee complication due to the hypothermia. Sad to say he has been through worse."

O'Neill looked at Sheppard, then back at Beckett. "He pulled me up over a ledge with that arm."

Beckett nodded understanding now how the damage occurred. "It will take a day or so for him to get on his feet. Mostly exhaustion."

"Yeah, it was a rough 24 hours."

"I can imagine. How is your back and head?"

"Better."

Beckett took a syringe and filled it with something. "Aye, if you are anything like the colonel that means it still hurts but not incapacitating. Should be safe to give this to you now."

O'Neill smiled. Beckett was a good doc. "Sleep now, general," the Scotsman said injecting the contents of the syringe into his IV again.

O'Neill closed his eyes and tried to think happy thoughts. He could hear the pilot inhaling the water, gasping. He opened his eyes. Try again Jack. He fought off sleep as long as he could, then just prayed that he did not dream about water.

oOoOoOoOo

"They are both going to be alright, Elizabeth. I imagine we will be back on Ilium in a day or two."

"Good. I can tell you Saphides and Rodney are beside themselves. I don't know which is the bigger worrier."

"I can imagine. I'll check in after they wake up. Beckett out." He did not envy Elizabeth.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Teyla looked at John sleeping peacefully under several heavy blankets. He looked no worse considering what he and the general had been through. She noticed the bruise on the side of his head and the raw skin where he had been restrained. Ronon had told her what he had seen…the water and John nearly choking a man to death. The colonel was a paradox to her. So gentle, gentlemanly, humorous, stoic, yet vulnerable and he did not hesitate to kill. She might have been able to imagine Ronon capable of nearly choking a man to death. The Satedan had barely contained fury at times, yet she had not imagined Sheppard doing this. She touched his hand. It was warm now. It had felt like ice when she had first been able to see him. She turned to the general who was still asleep. He and Sheppard would have much to discuss.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Ronon looked at the prisoner cowering in the corner. What had Sheppard done to him? He turned to the old man, the one Sheppard called Yoda. "Can you help him?"

The old man nodded gravely. "I believe so, but I am not sure."

Ronon shrugged. He really did not care. The man deserved what he got. If you want to pick on a warrior then you have to be ready for what comes next. Ronon had seen Sheppard angry. He had seen Sheppard kill others to defend himself and his people. He had never seen him do something that made a man scream and turn into a cowering idiot without even touching him. One thing Sheppard had was style. Ronon figured he would have just kicked the bastard unconscious out of anger. That was the thing. He had seen Sheppard angry, but never really react out of anger and certainly never hurt anyone out of anger. What he had seen today, scared him some. He also saw the look on Sheppard change quickly, but what was his friend capable of now? Had this experience changed him or had that small bit of darkness always been part of him? He left the small man to the prisoner and went to find Teyla and check in on Sheppard.

Sheppard had made it clear to take care of these prisoners. They had been ordered to bathe, per General Sorhan, and then fed. Let their king decide what to do with them next Ronon thought as he walked down the corridor. General Sorhan had begun interrogating them, but they had quickly gathered their information after just a few prisoners with corroborating stories. After Sheppard's work yesterday, many had willingly talked.

oOoOoOoOoOo

O'Neill woke up and looked immediately to the bed across from him. Sheppard was asleep but the ventilator had been removed. He was hooked to an IV but nothing else. "Sheppard!" he whispered. O'Neill got up. Thankfully he no longer had an IV and was mobile. He walked over to the other bed. "Sheppard!" he said commandingly. Worked before.

A fist struck out and connected to his jaw. Luckily he had quick reflexes and missed most of it, but it still stung. He gently grabbed Sheppard's arms. "Whoa, son." Sheppard did not wake. "Shep, you okay? John?"

Sheppard did not open his eyes but mumbled something. O'Neill cautiously moved closer. "What's that, Shep?"

"I broke my arm, dad," Sheppard mumbled, eyes still closed but furrowed.

O'Neill felt his heart literally hurt and his throat constrict. He froze for a moment, not sure what to say. Finally, "It's okay, John. Rest."

Sheppard was not quite young enough to be his son, close but not quite. He also knew that Sheppard had lost his father as well as his mother and was basically alone. But being called Dad brought back too many memories. He stood up. Back was tight but no pain. He turned and faced Beckett who he had not imagined would be lying in wait.

No tears, good. Can't let the doc see my misery. They are always too snoopy with their concern. Carson was looking sympathetically at John, then O'Neill. Had he heard the exchange? "The kid clocked me, Doc." O'Neill said trying to sound indignant.

"Aye. It's happened to me enough that I know to either keep my distance or restrain him. The other military members do the same usually with the marines being the worst. Except the colonel here seems to be able to do it with either arm. I learned that the hard way."

"I don't doubt it. How is he?"

"He will be fine. How is your back?"

"Much better. Tylenol should do the trick now. I would like to get into my own gear."

Beckett nodded. "I will have something brought to you. I want you to stay here for a couple more hours…Headaches?"

"No." Just heartache. Broke my arm, dad. "I'll just hang around here for a bit. They probably checked me out of my room anyway."

Beckett understood the code and nodded. He would hold vigil until Sheppard woke.

"I'll have them send some clothes in."

O'Neill talked to Ronon and got a low down on the prisoners, when the big guy had come in to visit Sheppard. He had heard the colonel call him "Chewie" which made it hard for O'Neill to keep a straight face with him now. Sheppard must have a thing for Star Wars. The Yoda guy apparently had helped the leader that Sheppard had incapacitated somehow. After Ronon left O'Neill sat in the chair next to Sheppard's bed and thought about the event then thought better of it. He closed his eyes. His head was still hurting but he figured closer to a Grade I than Grade II, because he did not even feel nauseous anymore, and could remember everything before the crash and after he woke up on the ledge. He had concussions that made you sick for days and things that he had to swear not to remember when others had tried to recollect stories. Maybe that was a good thing.

"General, you okay?"

O'Neill turned quickly to Sheppard's bed. Was he kidding? "Yeah, kid. I am not the one laid up in bed, arm wrapped up. How are you doing?

Sheppard raised his eyebrows and looked at both of his arms. "Not bad. Just a headache and I guess arm ache, but I have had worse."

"How much do you remember?"

"The crash, the run, the water, the..." he hesitated then looked away from the general.

O'Neill raised his own eyebrows. Not him choking the guy or making the ringleader a pile of whimpering mess? They could talk about demons later.

"Thanks for saving my butt out there. I am kind of glad that I wasn't awake for the ejection part."

Sheppard said nothing but nodded. There was silence until Sheppard turned to O'Neill. "I'm sorry,"

O'Neill looked at him incredulously. "For what!"

Sheppard did not say anything and just shrugged.

O'Neill walked over to him. "I am the one that is sorry, kid. Neither of us saw that bogey; I fell asleep for Christ sakes. You nearly drowned. What the hell are you sorry about?"

"I should have known you may have been more injured. I thought afterwards that you passed out and I should have taken first shift."

"Do you always take responsibility for everything?"

"Yes sir, don't you?"

"Yes, that is the problem, I guess. We're both sorry."

Sheppard knew it was harder for O'Neill than it was for him. O'Neill was truly helpless to prevent what happened to him and that is really what Sheppard was sorry for. He looked up at the general.

"I really am okay, general. Everyone will worry about how I cope with this, but hell, I have been through worse here and well back in Afghanistan. I am not scared or worried or anything."

O'Neill looked down at him and put a hand on his Sheppard's shoulder. "I know you have. Everyone has a breaking point...I know that."

"Yes sir, "Sheppard said quietly. "This wasn't it. But I know it was worse for you than for me."

O'Neill looked away and sat down in the chair. He had not really talked to anyone else this way so much and so directly about the ugly stuff. "Yeah, kid. I don't like to see one of my good men being tortured."

Sheppard smiled and almost laughed. "Torture?" He shook his head. "Sir, that wasn't torture. I know that much. That was just a bumbling attempt at an interrogation."

O'Neill caught Sheppard's eyes. They were intense and burned through him. He felt ashamed. This kid knew torture, like he himself knew torture. He was trying to make it right for his general. "I am sorry, general, that it is harder for you than for me...but I really am okay...at least about the...interrogation."

Sheppard turned away and O'Neill sensed him closing himself off.

"Okay, John. I will take your word for it, but what is eating you?"

Becket walked in saving Sheppard from O'Neill's gaze. "How are you feeling there, colonel?"

"Feeling pretty good, Carson, "Sheppard said cheerfully. He was good, O'Neill had to admit. "Right arm hurts a bit though."

"Aye, well maybe because you caught the general in the chin with it when you were stirring a couple of hours ago."

Sheppard looked at O'Neill wide-eyed. "Uh, sorry, sir."

"That's alright, Sheppard. I should have known better. Glad you did not grab me by the throat at least." Oh shit! How the hell did that slip out? Sheppard looked down at his feet. "Yes sir," he said quietly.

"General, you are free to go," Beckett said unaware of any potential problem. "Why don't you come back in a couple of hours?"

"Right, Doc." O'Neill looked at Sheppard. He recognized the mask. Military members all had it when needed, but pilots were the masters of it. Especially pilots who had to survive in a world that no one could even dream of. Way to freakin' mess things up Jack! He stormed out of the sickbay. His eyes burned from anger. Stupid!

oOoOoOoOoOo

"You alright, lad?" Beckett asked

"What? Oh yeah. Just tired"

"Aye. You have a slight temperature. Probably all the exposure and maybe an infection from the wound. I gave you antibiotics via IV. Can do the rest in pill form. Are you warm enough?"

"Toasty."

"Good. Get some rest. If you feel up to it, we can head back to Ilium tomorrow sometime."

Sheppard nodded. "That would be good."

He closed his eyes. Sophistides. I need you.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The old man excused himself from dinner. I am here, he said in his mind entering the infirmary.

Sheppard did not look him in the eye and said nothing as Beckett hovered nearby removing the IV.

"Ah, Sophistides. How are you doing?"

"Very well Dr. Beckett. Thank you. Mind if I visit?"

"Not at all. My patient is doing very well."

The old man took a seat next to the bed. "I am glad you are well Your Royal Highness."

Sheppard smiled but said nothing. Beckett finished and patted Sheppard on the shoulder.

"I'll send someone soon to help you get up. Need to get up sooner just call me."

"Okay."

Beckett left and Sophistides walked up to his bed.

"What troubles you, sire?"

Sheppard sighed. "I did something wrong today. Very wrong, Yoda."

The old man nodded. Sheppard had given him that nickname or call sign, as he said it. Sophistides thought it an odd tradition for earth pilots but went along with it. Sheppard had described the character and Sophistides understood then how Sheppard would view him and his role.

"Tell me."

Sheppard said nothing. How could he say how ashamed he was for intruding the mind of another, trying to destroy him the way the Wraith signature tried to destroy him? How could he say how he had nearly killed someone with his bare hands out of not just survival, although his purpose was to break free, but also out of anger? What had he become?

"I tried to destroy a mind today. I did not mean to try to destroy it, but I did mean to harm him," he said quietly, "But I was so angry at the stupidity of their greed. They wanted to kill me for information for an enemy that would destroy us and I have information that could help us all. I was angrier than I had ever been at least for a long time."

Sophistides had felt the anger.

"I nearly killed a man with my bare hands. I have killed many before, but not out of anger. I was trying to get away, but I wasn't really thinking. There were too many, I couldn't have gotten away, but maybe a distraction, trying to buy more time. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to kill that man and then the next one if I had to."

"You wanted to survive, sire. Not just for yourself."

"Sophistides, I just don't do that kind of thing. I literally saw red."

The old man sighed and went and put a hand on the colonel's shoulder. "I was able to help the leader recover and ensure that your ability was hidden. If the Wraith ever found this out, they would hunt you."

"Yes. I remember. I did not know this is what you meant. I put dark horror in his mind, Sophistides."

"Yes, John. I have helped him rid it. The Wraith would hunt you not just for this ability to hurt their minds, but the ability of your mind." Sophistides looked at Sheppard. "Sire, I think it is part of the Wraith signature that imprinted on your mind that took you to that path in your rage."

"What are you saying? It is going to make me a killing machine?!"

"No,not at all! We all have a darker side to us. It gives us strength. You just have a stronger one than most now. Warriors know how to tap into it. We just need to practice some on how to shield yourself so that you can use it only when you purposefully choose so. Do you think that this was not such a purpose?"

"I don't know. It just caught me off guard. I did not really think about it. I just wanted to kick the guy's ass so I could get out of there and get to business."

"Sire, you are not a monster as you have been thinking. In a way you are lucky because you are aware of this side. But this is not new to you. You have had to make choices have you not?"

"Yeah, but I did not think I would go Darth Vader on the guy. I get what you are saying, but I can never do that to anyone's mind again, Sophistides, or I am no better than a Wraith. I have killed before. There just seems to be plenty killing in this universe. Either that or just crawl up and die and let those you care for die."

"Killing a person is different?" Sophistides asked.

"Yes, you can kill a body, buy when you kill a mind, you have killed their soul."

oOoOoOoOoOo

O'Neill had checked on the prisoners. General Sorhan had been able to get tons of valuable information without having to do much work. Ronon said that they were scared of Sheppard. The one Sheppard dubbed Pirate had survived. O'Neill filled in Caldwell who had been discussing gathered intelligence with Air Defense Minister Lear. If Caldwell had heard the story of what Sheppard had done, he said nothing, but he spoke positively of the colonel. "Sheppard seems to have a knack for getting results." he had said. No kidding. Single handedly, Sheppard's actions had garnered them more information than they had been able to gather through their operatives.

O'Neill went to shower. I broke my arm, dad. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Why was that small vulnerability eating him so much? Sheppard was a grown man, but in that moment he was vulnerable, needing help. O'Neill knew that part of it was being called dad, and being needed again. But it was more. What had the Air Force done to this kid, this man who had seen so much that being nearly drowned was not viewed by him as torture? What had the Stargate program done? So many times he had lost people under his command since he had been in Special Forces up until even now. Sheppard was no stranger to this either, but if he had remained a pilot, the man would not have experienced anything near what he had gone through. What would Sheppard's mother think to see her young son, now a man, putting himself in danger nearly every day? You never think about the mothers Jack! O'Neill had initially felt guilty for strong arming Sheppard to come. He also knew now as he knew then that the pilot was special and would thrive in this environment. Yet he still could not put that moment of vulnerability out of his mind. Well, he could not avoid Sheppard because of a stupid remark. The colonel/king could use someone who had been through as much as himself and also responsible for saving millions. He had a peace offering from the kitchen that he had to pick up first. Ronon had mentioned it after their discussion.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Hey there, Shep," O'Neill said walking close to the colonel's bed. "How about some real food?"

Sheppard looked up from his bed and smiled. Well, that was a good sign, but you could never tell with the guy. "What is it?" he asked eagerly.

God, how did this guy mange to seem so young?

"Seems that your penchant for chocolate cake has made its way around to this galaxy. They could not figure out how to make popcorn although they are still working on it, but the baker was up all night working on this."

Sheppard grinned. "I have not even had my supper yet."

"That is alright, colonel. You are hereby given a pass on dinner tonight. Unless of course you get hungry. They are trying to figure out how to make pizza but I would not trust it."

Sheppard accepted the cake. He winced as reached for it, but said nothing as he put it in his mouth. O'Neill knew better than to ask to help so he sat in the chair and slowly ate his. After a few minutes, Sheppard sighed. "That was good. Wonder where they got the chocolate?"

"Ronon had some in his MRE, as did Caldwell."

Sheppard shook his head slightly side to side and looked quizzically at O'Neill. "Why the heck would they bring MREs? The food around here is better than anything we've had."

O'Neill shrugged. He took Sheppard's plate and put his own down. "I don't know, maybe they thought the search would go longer and they would be out in the field, but aren't you glad they did?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. Hope they have more."

"Oh, they do. The baker won't let anyone else have any. He gave me a piece only because I told him that I was required to taste your food first."

Sheppard laughed then started coughing for a bit. "Can you help me get up, general? I am ready to get out of here. "

"Carson okay with that that?"

"Yeah, sure. He likes me to move around. I just want to go to that chair. But if I try to get up by myself and fall, then both of us are in trouble."

"If Becket yells at me, then I am going to blame you."

"It's okay, general. I am used to getting yelled at by him."

O'Neill helped Sheppard out of bed. "Damn, Shep, you are too skinny. I can go get you another piece of cake."

Sheppard laughed quietly. "Yeah, Beckett keeps telling me I am too skinny but I eat like a pig. Just burn it off as fast."

O'Neill put a blanket on Sheppard. "Didn't want your teeth to start chattering."

Sheppard smiled and relaxed. It felt good to get out of bed. They sat quietly for a few minutes in their own thoughts. Finally O'Neill turned to Sheppard and said, "Hey kid, I am sorry about what I said earlier. Throat thing and all. I just have a way of putting my foot in my mouth."

"It's okay. Really. I'm good."

"No, Sheppard it wasn't okay. What you did many people could not do. Most people would just give up and die, or squeal their guts out. You are worried about losing your humanity, losing yourself. It is easy to doubt that part of you in a place like this. People like us have to live with things and parts of ourselves that 99 of the world or in this case galaxies do not have to worry about. They question our instinct to survive and protect because they don't have to face that on a daily basis like you and I. I know it bothers you, and that is how you keep your humanity. You let it bother you and you move on. You don't like to kill, Sheppard, but you do it when you have to. That is why you are a warrior. I just wanted you to know that," Sheppard opened his mouth to say something but O'Neill continued. "I know your world will never be the same. The truth is Sheppard, I am sorry for strong arming you here, but I also know that you belong here. You fit here in this galaxy and not just part of the SGC. You are a king, Sheppard. I don't mean King of Denmark king. I mean like the freaking King in the Lord of the Rings king. I saw that in you yesterday, I saw that in you since after they put that crown on you. Maybe you don't like wearing the garb, maybe you hate the pomp and circumstance, hell I would. But you are the leader of these people whether you like it or not and you and what is in that brain of yours are the best hope that we have. You might as well enjoy the fruits of royalty because you will bear the burden of commanding them." Wow did I say all that out loud?

Sheppard was looking at O'Neill with an open mouth. Was he getting lectured again! First, McKay, Teyla, Sophistides, now O'Neill.

"Sir. That is the most I have ever heard you talk in one breath. You actually outdid McKay on the lecture."

"Oh. Well, yeah, I do surprise myself sometimes."

Sheppard grinned. "I get it, sir. Really. I thought about that. But like I told Yoda yesterday. I went Darth Vader on those guys. I can live with killing if I have to do it. But there is no excuse for messing with a man's brain. I did not know I could do it, but I almost made him crazy. Luckily Sophistides fixed it, but I can't go back there. It was a dark place and I cannot go back there." Sheppard looked down at the floor unable to meet O'Neill's gaze. Ronon had not know exactly what Sheppard had done, but O'Neill figured it out. The colonel had used his mind to hurt the guy, and he had heard Sheppard in his own mind telling him not to say anything during the interrogation. Yeah, that was a little scary. The general reached over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Look at me, son." Sheppard did not move. "Look at me!" Sheppard met his eyes reluctantly. "I have done many things I am ashamed of, John. I have dark spaces that I just do not go to. You have to fight it or it will pull you in the way it pulled me. Anger and despair can eat at you until there is nothing left. No, I don't expect you will go there again, but you can't worry about it. Trust yourself. Know the darkness is there, but let it feed you when you need it. Hey, even Darth Vader figured it out."

Sheppard grinned, "Yeah, but he killed a lot of people first."

O'Neill shrugged. "Details."

Sheppard smiled. "Thanks, sir. I still have to make amends."

"I'd expect nothing less of an Air Force officer worth anything...or even a king."

An attendant walked in with pizza and more cake.

"The meat pastry, sire and chocolate cake as you requested." Sheppard looked at O'Neill. Meat pastry? The general only sighed in amusement.

"Uh, thanks," Sheppard said, accepting it from the attendant.

"Just water?" O'Neil said disappointed.

"Aye," Carson said walking in. "I don't think anything stronger at the moment is wise. And I don't remember telling you to get out of bed, colonel."

"He helped me out," Sheppard said quickly. O'Neill shot him a glare that said traitor.

"Well, not up too late. If you both are ready to get back to Ilium then I expect you to get some rest today."

"Yes sir!" They said in unison.

Beckett shook his head and left. Sheppard took a bite of the pizza. "Hey it's not bad."

O'Neill followed. "Yeah, you're right." They talked well into the night. O'Neill noticed Sheppard dozing off. "Come on, son. Let's get you to bed before the doc comes back."

Sheppard closed his eyes once in bed. "Thanks," he whispered before drifting off.

O'Neill knew that there would still be dreams, and Sheppard would struggle, but they had an understanding. Even if they never spoke of it again.

O'Neill lay in the adjoining bed. They would dream together. He had in fact been thrown out of his quarters where Caldwell now stayed. They were going to give him some new ones and Caldwell dutifully offered his own to him, but the infirmary on this planet was like a posh hotel so he knew one more night would not bother him.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Have you heard of anything new?"

"No, lord. No information has come through. There was an incident on Quadari a few days ago, but seemed only to involve the rebels shooting down a plane and trying to hold the pilot for ransom."

"Fools."

"Yes, lord."

"Are the forces ready?"

"Close, my lord."

"We need to finish making preparations soon. I do not want to take a chance that the Guardians suspect anything, king or no king."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Sheppard's eyes shot open. He was covered in sweat. It usually happened this way after a battle, torture or whatever. He would have bad dreams for a few days then back to normal condition yellow dreams. He did have good dreams, but those usually involved long past family members, or kicking Wraith or Genii ass. Bad dreams were when they kicked his ass. In this dream he was drowning. He looked over and the general was still sleeping. At least he had nightmares quietly this time. He sure as hell did not want to talk about those things anymore, even with the General. He knew that it was hard for O'Neill to reveal himself, just as it was hard for Sheppard, but it was good to talk to someone who he was not responsible for. He hid most of his anxiety and worry from the others. Granted, he was rarely overcome by it. He usually felt it as a small twinge in his gut, but he learned a long time ago that strong emotions had to be channeled or they destroyed you little by little or all at once if you really screwed up. He closed his eyes again and hoped he slept of kicking Wraith ass.

oOoOoOoOoOo

O'Neill sat up. He saw Sheppard tossing and turning. He stood and put a hand on his shoulder. There were always dreams no matter what. "Leave him alone...you bastard," Sheppard rasped. "Take me...Leave...the general...alone..."

O'Neill eyes widened. What the hell?! O'Neill knew then that Sheppard's greatest fear was losing those he was loyal to or cared for. He gathered that from the mission reports. He would die before he left anyone behind. Losing them was how he judged failure or success. From the reports he had read, losing Ford had been more distressing to Sheppard than when he had been captured and tortured by Koyla. "You are more like Darth Vader than you know, Shep." He put a hand on Sheppard. "It's okay. Everyone's good."

O'Neill saw Sheppard relax. He sat in the chair as he could not get back to sleep. Was that Sheppard's Achilles' heel, those who he cared for? He obviously would disobey orders for those he felt responsible for, and would give his life. Yet he also knew that this Achilles' heel was a strength. It bred loyalty to him. O'Neill also knew that this Achilles heel was his own. Fortunately he had more successes than failures, but each life lost, each failure hurt him dearly. Sheppard slept more soundly and O'Neill dozed off.

"General?" A voice called him out of his dreams, "General?"

O'Neill's eyes shot open. "What?"

"Sir, it's morning. Why are you in that chair?"

O'Neill turned to Sheppard. "Oh, ah. The damn bed was hurting my back."

Sheppard squinted his eyes as he eyed the bed then the chair. "And the chair was more comfortable?"

Well, no. "Yeah. Do you find that hard to believe?"

Sheppard shrugged. "We can get out of here today. Beckett should be in about…now."

Three breaths and Beckett walked in followed by attendants with breakfast.

"Well glad to see that ye are up and about. Quick check-up, breakfast, then, your majesty, you can leave at your leisure."

He moved to Sheppard first. "Did you sleep okay, colonel?"

"Yeah, Carson, fine, but I prefer my own bed rather than this one."

"Well I can't help it if you keep finding trouble. How is your arm?"

"Left is fine in the cast. Right is sore but not too bad."

"How about the head?"

"Good."

"Great. Well I think you are good to go. Light duty, mind you, colonel. No horses, no spaceships, airships or any other ship for at least a week."

"Got it, Carson."

"I mean it colonel."

"I know. Got it, Carson!"

Beckett shook his head. "Alright, lad. Get dressed."

Sheppard's hand hurt from nearly strangling the man, but he did not want to tell Carson that. There was nothing he could do anyway. He was thankful when he left him to barrage the general.

Finally Beckett turned to them. "I don't know why you military types give me so much trouble. It would be easier on me and you if you just fessed up and followed my directions."

Sheppard walked up to the doctor and put his hand on his shoulder. "I know, Doc. We are pains in the ass, but don't think we don't appreciate what you do for us."

Carson's face softened. Sucker, O'Neill thought. He knew Sheppard meant what he said, but he also knew why Sheppard said it. "Yeah, doc. I mean being a mother hen is part of the job description of being a doctor, at least for us military types," O'Neill added.

Beckett shook his head. "Incorrigible buggers. The whole lot of you."

Sheppard had back on some kingly looking uniform. He did have to admit that it was very comfortable, but he missed wearing his tac vest. He needed to get a new designer to accommodate for that. He looked over O'Neill whose pants looked a bit too short. He smiled.

O'Neill glared at him. "How is it that you get nice spiffy clothes from your closet, on another world I might add, and I get someone's hand me downs?"

Sheppard half grinned at him. "Because I am a king...and you are a...general."

O'Neill tried and failed to look offended. "That is still higher than a Lieutenant colonel…colonel. How about we blow this joint?"

Sheppard looked at him seriously. "Something I have to do first. Would you come along, sir?"

O'Neill nodded.

Sheppard was met outside the infirmary by General Sorhan, and Sarik, as well as Caldwell, Teyla and Weir. "Well hello everybody!" O'Neill said cheerfully. "Nice to have a welcome committee."

"We are glad both you and Colonel Sheppard are well." Teyla said.

"Thanks." Sheppard said with a smile. "We should be ready to go soon. Need to take care of something first."

O'Neill said something to Caldwell who nodded and left to go speak to Lear.

"General Sorhan," Sheppard said moving away from the others. "Please escort us to the prisoners. I wish to speak to the leader."

Sorhan bowed. "Yes, my lord."

"My lord. I apologize for what occurred." Sheppard turned around to see Sarik looking down at the ground.

Sheppard put his hand on the Guardian's back.

"This was not your doing. Don't blame yourself. I don't. I need you to put this behind you and focus on what needs to be done to protect our kingdom."

Sarik bowed low. "Yes, my lord. I thank you for your continued faith in your people and in me." He opened a small case revealing the crown. Sheppard sighed and took it then put it on.

"This way, my lord." Sorhan stepped to the side.

Sheppard glanced at O'Neill who nodded. The general followed him in.

The cell was small, dark, but clean and well kept. There was a shadow on a bed in a corner. Sorhan opened the cell, and Sheppard walked in. The sun shining through the small window hit the stones on his crown lighting up the small cell and Sheppard's face.

"Stand, Pirate," Sheppard said softly yet firmly. The man looked up, stood quickly and knelt in front of Sheppard with his head down. O'Neill saw Sheppard roll his eyes, annoyed. Well what do you expect when you act like Darth Vader? Sheppard gently touched the man's head. "I said stand, Pirate, not kneel," he said quietly. He bent down and took the man by the elbow and helped him up.

"What is your given name?" Sheppard asked.

"I am Dragan, my sovereign lord," whispered the man.

"Dragan," Sheppard said. "I have come to apologize." The man looked at Sheppard quickly then down again.

"No, my lord. It is I who should apologize. My avarice endangered all of our people. I would have endangered our lives if harm had come to you. I beg your forgiveness."

Sheppard sighed in frustration. "Yes, Dragan. What you did was wrong and selfish. Your way of life is not conducive to good order. We need everyone to protect our kingdom from those that want to harm it. I am sure that you will find a way to make amends...but I have come to ask your forgiveness. I am sorry for what I did to you and your man. I allowed my anger to control my actions. That will never happen against any of my people again."

Dragan was not sure what to say. "My lord. I accept your gracious apology. It was my actions that initiated the course that was taken."

Sheppard looked down at the man who was about 7 inches shorter. "We need to move forward from our mistakes and protect this kingdom from those whose greed will endanger millions."

"What would you have me do, lord?"

"There is one who seeks to harm me and my kingdom, to take it as his own and dominate everyone and everything. If he does that, millions will be at risk to the Wraith. I want you to be my eyes and ears. If you hear anything then you are to contact General Sorhan. I expect an attack soon. It would help us if we knew where they were going to strike first. I am not asking you to seek the information actively, only pass it on if you hear anything that you even think might be suspicious."

"My lord, we will fight alongside you, of course."

"If the time comes, Dragan, then we will need every volunteer. You owe me nothing, so I ask this as a favor."

"Of course sire, if my men will follow me. You will spare them of course."

"Would you forfeit your life for them?'

"Of course, my lord," The man said without hesitation.

"Follow me."

Sorhan had assembled all of the men into the courtyard outside. When Sheppard stepped outside the men knelt.

"Hello, Pirates," Sheppard said loudly. Several of the men chuckled, having heard the definiition and finding it agreeable. "Attempting to kill your king is considered treason and punishable by death." Sheppard raised his eyebrows and quipped, "Regardless of whether you knew I was king or not…Your leader Dragan here has agreed to die so that you can live. I am not sure if that is a fair trade considering that there are over a hundred of you and just one of him. However, I accepted his offer. But I think it would be a waste to kill him, so I have given him a mission. Follow him or don't follow him, it does not matter to me, although it is rare to find a leader willing to die for you. Whatever you decide, make sure that you understand this...those that commit further crimes will be punished accordingly as dictated by the law. That includes trying to kill your king. So...you are all free to go."

O'Neill watched the men look at each other in disbelief then slowly rise. They stood there and stared up at Sheppard who was shaking Dragan's hand.

"Armentarius!" Someone shouted. Then a roar, "Armentarius!! Armentarius!" It continued until Dragan joined his men. Sheppard made eye contact with the Pirate and nodded almost imperceptibly. Slowly the shouting stopped and they began to file out, following their Pirate leader.

O'Neill watched Sheppard's expression. Nothing except a hint of bemusement. He was completely unfazed by the show of devotion from these who were once enemies. A lesser man would probably have enjoyed it completely...feeding his ego. Sheppard watched them for a click more, then turned and looked at O'Neill. He raised an eyebrow in askance noticing O'Neill's expression.

O'Neill shrugged. "Pirates have ships."

Sheppard grinned as he removed the crown handing it back to Sarik. "Oh yeah, I know. These guys have boats, too. I overheard them when we were back at camp, planning a raid on a transport ship on the river."

"You did?"

"Yes sir. Why don't we get back?"

O'Neill shook his head. Amazing.

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