AN: Wow, new chapter...I'm really slow at pumping these out aren't I? Well, you can thank my busy work schedule and the new house arrangements...it's all blehhh and taking up way too much of my time. Here's the next one. And I lied, there will be one more chapter after this one. THEN it's done. :) Please enjoy and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (x1000) review! I really like the review, no matter the nature.

Thanks: Thank you, Sterenyk Strey for being an amazing Beta with a truckload of patience and a head full of fantastic advice. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of it's characters. The plot line, Jagrin, and Lieutenant Thompson are the only things I stake a claim on.

John Sheppard awoke in a confused daze.

His body was sprawled across the floor in the center of the prison cell and, upon further investigation; he saw that his left shoulder was bleeding profusely through an old and useless bandage. Guarding the shoulder, he pushed himself to sit on his haunches. John couldn't remember anything about what happened before he woke up. He recalled something about a burning pain on his back but nothing else. The last thing he remembered – clearly - was Victoria being stabbed.

Thompson!

Quickly, he rose to his feet and almost immediately fell back down.

Everything had spun around him and his head still swam from the effect. The room was dizzying colorful and Sheppard knew full well that he wasn't in his right mind. It was also well within his knowledge that it probably had everything to do with the metal plate on the back of his head. But getting back to normal would have to wait till after crunch time.

"Lieutenant?" he called, placing his head in his hands as he struggled to shake off the lightheadedness.

There was no answer. Lifting his head, he searched for her. The cell was dark and difficult to see through, especially in the state he was in, but he tried nevertheless. He stood to his feet again, this time more slowly and more cautiously.

When he was finally to his full height, he could make out a small shape in the corner of the prison and he began making his way towards it, still at a careful speed.

The knife was no longer in her body, but rather on the ground next to her, and he sighed with relief. He figured Carson must have come in and removed it. Still, she didn't look very good and he worried that she would not return to full health very easily or very soon. He would have to keep protecting her against Jagrin and his goons until she could fend for herself.

John staggered away quietly, not wanting to wake her and he slumped against the opposite wall. He was still dizzy and he couldn't make the room stop spinning. The nausea set in soon afterwards, sending waves of pain over him and making it nearly impossible to concentrate.

And so, it was not too far-fetched to think that fate had a bone to pick with him when Jagrin stepped through the cell doors, red-faced and bright-eyed.

"Two of my men have been discovered dead at the entrance of the facility," he informed Sheppard. "I'm guessing it was your men trying to rescue you."

A salient surge of hope rushed through John's frail body and he smiled, despite the pain. They had found him. Somehow, they had found him. Those nasty hours – or was it days? - They'd spent in the facility had not been fruitless. They had bought time, and now, help was on the way.

A swift blow to the head from the angry Genii interrupted his happy thoughts and he fell to the ground. Quickly, he glanced over at Thompson, who still lay still in the corner. Hopefully, she hadn't awakened.

"How many of them are there? Where do they come from?" Jagrin demanded.

"Go to hell," Sheppard croaked, pushing himself off the ground slowly. The pain was everywhere now and it was getting harder to stay conscious.

His attempt to get up was halted when he felt a hard shove from a sturdy boot slam down on his back, causing his body to slam into the floor. A low moan emanated from Sheppard's lips but he kept his hands to his sides, ready to push himself back up as soon as the pressure from his back was released.

"I've lost all patience with you, Colonel," the villain hissed. "Tell me what I want to know."

Despite everything, John began to chuckle. He didn't believe it was his own voice until his body began to shake from the tremors. Why he was amused at such a time was beyond him, but he accepted it as a distraction from the misery he had been feeling.

Jagrin growled and kicked Sheppard in the ribs before retreating from his form, mumbling and cursing all the while.

Lifting one eye open to watch the Genii's actions, John's heart began beating wildly as Jagrin neared Thompson.

Through an impossible feat of self-pressure, he pushed himself up and stood to his feet. He swayed slightly as the room began to whirl once more but he forced himself to focus while Jagrin stood over her body.

The Genii lifted a solitary leg toward her figured and pushed her body with his foot.

That action caused all of hell to stir within Sheppard, and he leapt from his position. The room rushed past him as he shoved Jagrin to the floor. Unable to think of any other sensible option, he threw his body on top of Thompson, shielding her from the attacks of the villains. "No!" he shouted, knowing even now that all sanity had left him and he was now acting out of pure instinct and emotion. He no longer knew strategy or planning – only feeling.

What followed were shouts and railings, but John could not separate them into individual words. Things were beginning to get fuzzier and darker nevertheless he knew he needed to hang on to what little sense he had left.

He hurt again – all over his body. But it was new pain, not soreness - like his shoulder, his head and his back. This was fresh. They were hurting him, but that's all Sheppard could tell. Everything else required too much thinking than his mind was capable of.

Time passed slowly. With every new pain, John clung to Victoria tighter, knowing that if he died, he would have to die defending her. He was in charge, he recalled, of her and many other things. If she died, he would fail. If he died, it wouldn't matter.

Closing his eyes, he finally let go and prayed that by some power, Thompson would stay protected.

xXx

"What a miserable failure you are, Johnny," Kolya laughed. "What will become of the rest of your team? You've abandoned them, John, John, John…."

"John!" A woman's voice ripped through Sheppard's dreams like a knife and his eyes slowly opened to reveal a familiar face that he could quite place.

She was beautiful; olive skinned with bronze hair. Her eyes were dark and attractive, but they showed an expression of intense worry.

"Teyla," he groaned in surprise but didn't move a muscle. He felt as though he couldn't.

Her face relaxed slightly and she nodded. "Yes, John, it is I. We are all here. But we must leave at once. Can you walk?"

"Thompson," he mumbled, unable to put together a coherent sentence. His eyes flickered to the body beneath him. "Help."

Teyla's face creased as she looked down to where he was motioning. She extended her hand towards Victoria's face and he grunted. "Careful." He spoke harshly. The woman looked at him in surprise but then nodded reassuringly as she continued her hand towards the Lieutenant. John watched as she stroked her cheek, feeling her temperature, and then moved down to her neck. She kept her fingers at a specific spot for a couple of seconds before retracting them slowly.

"John, I'm afraid –

"Teyla, we gotta run," a familiar voice grunted from behind him. "This place is crawling with Genii. We didn't even get half of them on our way in."

Teyla looked up to the owner of the voice, who still remained hidden to Sheppard. "We might have a problem, Ronon. Colonel Sheppard refuses to leave without Lieutenant Thompson."

Ronon growled and shouted. "Doc, get in here."

A quiet shuffling of feet indicated that another person had entered the room. "Oh dear Lord, I almost forgot. Sheppard informed me earlier that Thompson had been stabbed. That was also almost two days ago."

"She is no longer living," Teyla told him. "But I am not sure that John will accept that information while in this condition."

"What's wrong with him?" Ronon asked gruffly.

"It's a long story," the Doctor sighed and placed a gentle hand on Sheppard's back. "Help me get him off her."

Teyla reached over to assist him. When John finally realized what they were doing, he resisted. "No! Leave her alone!" he shouted, clawing at the arms of those who separated him from his priority.

"Colonel," a soft voice soothed, "it's alright. We're not going to hurt her."

John watched helplessly as he was held back while Thompson's head was lifted and the dog tags removed from around her neck. She was dead. He had failed.

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