Disclaimer: Nothing is mine

Chapter Fourteen: Dungeons. But Thankfully, No Dragons

The door to the cell was slammed shut after two guards deposited a body. The sound of metal on metal resonated throughout the entire dungeon, it was loud enough to wake the dead. Even though he had only woken up merely minutes prior, Shawn had watched the entire process while feigning unconsciousness.

He opened his eyes slowly and tried to push himself up into a sitting position from the packed-dirt floor. His brother was slumped to the ground, his face low and was propped against the wall opposite from Shawn.

"Dude, what happened?" Shawn sat up fast and his head attacked him further. It felt as though a locomotive was doing the macarena in his skull. Damn those stupid village girls with their feminine wiles. "How long have I been out?"

John didn't move at first and Shawn's heart skipped a beat. But before too long, John leaned back, exposing his face in the waning light. A cut lip, fresh bruising around an eye socket and some fresh blood, John was looking worse for wear.

He laughed gently, favoring the split lip. "You've been out long enough for us to have a party without you."

"Who did this to you?"

"Denek Kolya."

"Is that a name of a person or a decongestant?"

"Someone with an imaginary score to settle. Unfortunately."

"What does he want from us?"

"Well from me... who knows. Death, I think. I sum up he's figuring out what to do with me next." Shawn's face blanched while John continued. "I think you were just caught in the cross-fire."

John seemed too nonchalant about the entire thing. Apparently he had been in this predicament before, but this... well, this was all too new to Shawn. Sure he had been shot at, kidnapped, thrown into a pool with a man-eating shark, and the list goes on. But being trapped on a foreign planet while stuck in a rusting dungeon while imprisoned by vengeful sadists was an all too new experience. And it certainly had not been on his bucket list.

John obviously sensed Shawn's apprehension.

"I've been in worse situations. It'll be ok. They'll come for us."

"Who? The Grim Reaper and his friends?"

"No. My team."

Shawn closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his head threatening once again to explode on command. The cool, musty concrete blocks pressed against his back soothed him momentarily.

"Gus is probably freaking out." Shawn then thrust his eyes open and shot his head up, ignoring the pain. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, John spoke. "Don't worry. He made it back."

Sighing, Shawn sat back again. "Speaking of which, I bet my dad is freaking out. And Jules and Lassie." The reality hit him like a ton of bricks. He had been so caught up with visiting a new galaxy, his entire life on Earth had been thrown on the back burner. His return was going to be interesting. And messy.

If. If he returned. That is.

"How is he...?" He heard John ask.

"Lassie? Ugh. Horrible to work with. But funny in his own right. Haha, this one time, oh man, I got him sooooo good..."

John chuckled slightly. "No. No, I mean Henry."

This made Shawn pause and open his eyes. He sat up. "Well, he's good." He looked over at John. "To be honest, he misses you."

This made John laugh hard, which only made him wince more. "Yeah, I am so sure."

Shawn was serious. "No. He does."

This sobered John up. He too sat up. "Why?"

Straightening up his posture, Shawn thought it over briefly. "Because he feels bad, I think. For the way he treated you, I mean. You didn't deserve that and he knew it. Your own dad was an ass and he knew he could be one too. But that doesn't mean you needed two asses for father figures." He then shrugged. Getting to the nitty gritty about this sort of thing wasn't entirely his strong suit.

John mulled it over. "Well, I guess I would like to hear it for myself."

And Shawn agreed with that statement, it was only fair. "Then give him the chance." He then smiled. "I mean, he'll do it in his own Henry Spencer way, of course. Take you out on the boat. And then pat you on the shoulder when you least expect it and say, 'good job, kid.'"

The lesser damaged side of John's mouth curled upward, and it was one of the most genuine smiles Shawn had ever seen come from his older brother. "I would like that."

"And he would too."

The heavy silence that fell about their cell was almost deafening. And Shawn started to feel slightly... just slightly (and maybe it was just the dust in his eyes) verklempt. He blamed it on the trial and tribulation that he had endured so far with being imprisoned and the like.

He then rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. "Jeez! Who is cutting onions in here? Would they quit already!"

John laughed. "So, what's with you and that detective?"

"Huh? Wha?"

"That cute blonde one." John was always quick to pick up on Shawn's "types".

Shawn tried to play it cool. He shrugged. "I dunno. I'm in love with her and stuff."

"No! Really?" He grinned. "Well, I approve.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Go get 'em, tiger."

Shawn then growled and extended his arm out like a cat paw. "Oh she's gonna get it alright."

John the raised a brow. "Ok, play it cool. Don't freak her out."

"So, what about you? Any lovely ladies the Sheppard likes? Or are you still James Bond-ing around?"

John paused momentarily and thought it over. "Well, there is someone. But I don't think she knows how I feel about her yet."

"Back at Atlantis?"

"Yeah."

"Oh man, I totally called it. Totally. I even told Gus. And dude, she knows."

"What? There's no way."

"Um. Yeah she does. I would know these things. I'm psychic, remember?"

"How am I suppose to know if they're even on the same planet!" Rodney asked a frazzled Zelenka. "Who knows if they're even ali-"

He stopped and composed himself, throwing a wounded smile at Gus who, like the stressed Czech, was far from soothed by Rodney's rantings. "I am sure they're fine." He then turned back to the computer screen he had been staring at.

Weir placed a hand on Gus's shoulder. "I know we're going to get Shawn back. Alive." Gus merely squeaked in response and nodded. She then marched over to Rodney to glance at his screen and pressed her hand to her ear. "Teyla, other than the empty village, have you found anything useful?"

The camera that had been placed on Teyla showed everything she was seeing. It included a pissed off Ronan, her heavily armed group of militants and the tree-lined landscape. But nothing else, otherwise.

"So far, no. But we are not yet finished with our sweep of the area," Teyla's voice replied.

"I've found it!" Zelenka said while typing furiously. He tuned into Teyla's transmission. "I have found Sheppard's homing beacon! Teyla, I am sending you the coordinates now and you can dispatch it to the officer who is closest to the area."

Rodney grumbled. "I helped you find it," he muttered under his breath.

After minutes of held-breaths and heavy silence, Teyla once again came over in transmission. "We found it. Hidden among rocks. It is obvious they knew exactly what he had on him and covered their tracks. No Colonel Sheppard. And I am sad to say, no Shawn."

Weir lowered her head and pressed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "Teyla... please, direct each team to do one more sweep of the area. Perhaps you'll find a villager or something pertinent to our situation."

"Of course, Dr. Weir. I will inform you of any changes." With that, Teyla signed off.

Zelenka sadly swiveled around in his chair and then stood up and walked away, only to mutter something either supportive or disheartening in Czech.

Rodney was deep in thought. "There has to be something. Anything."

Gus's next thought hit him like lightning. He stood up so fast, it practically gave him whiplash. "IPhone!"

Rodney and Weir stared at Gus for a moment only to then share a concerned glance with each other.

"Yes, okay..." Weir started.

Gus started pointing at Rodney. "Shawn has his iPhone! There could be a chance they didn't find it on him!"

Weir then stared at Rodney. "That's actually not a half-bad idea."

Gus raised a brow and looked at Weir. "Half-bad? Pfft, oh you know it's good."

Rodney was back on his computer. "Give me his number. Wait, he doesn't have AT&T does he?"

"No..."

"Ok, good. Because they cannot get service out here. Ha... Sorry. Bad joke."

"And that was after I was a foot and ankle model."

John nearly choked. "Say, what?"

"Yup. Yours truly was the Achilles of the uh, well, Achilles. Good money." Shawn then shook his head. "So competitive. I was nearly tripped walking down the stairs by Reggie Ramirez. He was the Fabio of ankles. That guy had a face like a shaved yeti, yet he could pull off Birkenstocks to Chuck Taylors in a single shoot without breaking a sweat!"

John raised a brow. "Wow. No kidding."

"But that life of glory just wasn't for me. Too much pressure, too many pedicures. So then I..." Shawn then stopped and went rigid.

"You alright?"

"I think I'm ... vibrating." Also, both Shawn and John could hear the muffled sounds of some song. Shawn started patting himself down and soon found the source of his interruption. Reaching down, deep down, into the recesses of his pants, Shawn pulled out a bright green cell phone proudly playing the chorus to Glen Campbell's "Rhinestone Cowboy."

"Dude, I think Atlantis is calling. I am so screwed on roaming charges."