As the day wore on, Carson refused to let himself fall asleep in the infirmary, not wanting to suffer another terrible nightmare and risk waking other patients. Never in all his life did he have nightmares that were so vivid or forced him to wake so violently. He wondered if the wraith somehow deliberately caused it to their victims. Though the notion seemed impossible, Carson had learned a long time ago never to underestimate anything that happened in the Pegasus Galaxy.

The painkillers had helped his headache somewhat. His friends coming and going all afternoon helped keep him awake, and after the team brought food—too much food—and ate dinner with him, a very tired Carson was just about to leave.

Unfortunately, Dr. Biro chose that moment to walk around the corner. "And where do you think you're going?" she asked.

Carson frowned where he sat on the side of his bed. "Ta my quarters."

She crossed her arms and shook her head. "I don't think so."

Carson sighed. He knew that by the end of this conversation, his headache would likely be back full-force. "I'm fine; there's no reason ta keep me here."

Biro's eyebrows shot up. "There isn't? How about that headache? A mind-probe isn't something you expect me to ignore, do you? Who knows if it caused some damage, or latent effects? I think this is the wisest place for you to be right now, especially since you won't let me do an MRI!"

Carson sighed. "I understand what yer sayin', but there's no need fer an MRI; he messed with my mind, not my brain, and it's no' like it only just happened…" Carson suddenly realized something, and his words trailed off.

Biro frowned when he stopped talking so suddenly. "Carson?" she said, walking closer.

Blinking, Carson looked at her. "How long was I…gone?"

"Two days," she told him. "Today is day four since we left you on that planet."

Carson's face paled. "Two days? I was Michael's prisoner fer two days?"

Biro frowned. "You didn't realize?"

He shook his head, looking off into space.

Biro put a hand on his arm. "Lie down, get some sleep."

He looked at her again. "No, I need ta sleep in my quarters."

"Why?"

Carson sighed. He had no choice but to tell her. "I've been havin' nightmares. I don' wanna disturb the other patients."

Biro frowned. "You should talk to Heightmeyer."

Carson inwardly rolled his eyes. "Whether I do or not won't change the fact that I can't stay here."

Biro folded her arms with a sigh. Shrugging with one shoulder, she nodded.

Carson smiled and stood. "Thanks."

"Wait," she said, holding out a hand. "How's your headache? I was coming to see if you needed more painkillers."

Carson hesitated. His head still hurt more than he cared to admit.

His silence was all the answer that Biro needed. She walked over to the cabinet and took out some pills, bringing them over and placing them in his hand. "Would you like a sedative, to help you sleep?" she asked.

Carson shook his head. A drug preventing him from waking would definitely be a bad idea if he had another nightmare.

Biro studied him for a minute, clearly concerned. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Carson smiled. "Thanks."

She nodded and watched him leave the infirmary.

Carson headed straight for the nearby balcony, going through the door and over to the rail. Leaning his arms on it, he dropped his head into his hands with a sigh. I can't believe I was Michael's prisoner for two days, he thought. He didn't remember most of it, and knew that to be a bad sign.

Opening his eyes, he inhaled the ocean air, watching the waves. The light from the setting sun increased his headache, making him squint. What did Michael find out from the mind-probe? he wondered. He knew that Elizabeth would want a detailed report, and he had no idea where to begin.

He dreaded writing it. It was bad enough that he kept reliving the horrible experience in his dreams; he really didn't want to type it all up into a neat little tale for people to read.

Unknown to Carson, Rodney watched from inside the door. He took a step towards it, before wondering if Carson would rather be alone. He didn't know the extent of what his friend had suffered at Michael's hand, and almost didn't want to know.

After a few minutes, the pitiful sight of his friend became too much, and Rodney stepped onto the balcony, figuring that Carson had been alone long enough.

The doctor gave no acknowledgement when his friend leaned on the rail next to him.

Rodney tried to be nonchalant, as if he had every reason to be standing there. When he looked at Carson, he saw him rubbing his forehead, eyes closed. "Hey," he said, nudging his arm with an elbow. "You okay?"

Carson opened his eyes and looked at him as if he hadn't known he was there. "Aye, fine," he said, looking back out at the water.

Rodney hated these types of situations. He wasn't a very friendly person and wasn't good at comforting people, so he always found himself at a loss of what to say. "Is there…uh…anyway I can help?" he asked, awkwardly.

Carson looked at him again, smiling this time. He shrugged with one shoulder. "If there is, you'll be the first ta know."

Rodney smiled back.

They were silent for a few minutes, before Carson said, "I dunno what ta tell Elizabeth."

Rodney frowned. "Why? You simply tell her what happened to you."

Carson sighed. "But that's just it, Rodney, I can't remember it all. I had no idea that I was Michael's prisoner fer two days until Biro just told me."

Rodney's frown deepened. "What do you remember?"

Carson sighed, closing his eyes again. "The threats. Ya wouldn' believe all the horrible threats he made, Rodney! He keep interrogatin' me, tryin' ta get info. I kept refusin', and he kept demandin'. I dunno how I held up."

Rodney said nothing, quietly listening.

"Ya found me unconscious, ya said?" Carson asked. "I can only assume that happened after the mind probe. Maybe I was unconscious fer the whole second day, and that's why I can't remember it."

Rodney shrugged. "Makes sense. So the mind probe is the last thing you remember?"

Carson hesitated. "I'm not sure." He closed his eyes with a sigh, dropping his face back into his hands again. "It's all so confusin'! There are too many questions, and I have none of the answers!"

Rodney sighed. "Maybe you'll remember more as time passes," he said. "Maybe after your headache goes away."

Carson made a humorless sound, lifting his head and rubbing it again. "I'm beginnin' ta doubt that it'll ever leave."

Rodney studied his friend, unhappy to see how tired and pale he still looked. "Is it possible that he did the mind probe more than once?"

Carson stopped rubbing his forehead, his eyebrows shooting up. "I don' know. I have no idea."

Rodney sighed, shaking his head. He absentmindedly took a powerbar out of his pocket and took a bite, before frowning and turning it over to check the expiration date. "This thing is stale!"

Carson inwardly grinned. Rodney was such a character.

"Let's go eat," the scientist predictably said.

Carson frowned. "But we just had dinner."

Rodney copied the frown. "Just? That was a few hours ago. It's snack time."

Carson shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not hungry."

Rodney sighed exasperatedly. "I'm sick of hearing you say that. You haven't eaten a full meal since we found you! So, like I said, it's snack time."

The thought of eating turned Carson's stomach. "Rodneeeey," he whined, rubbing his aching forehead again.

Something in the doctor's tone caught the scientist's attention, and he stopped walking towards the door and turned around.

Carson sighed, not saying anything.

"What?" Rodney asked, walking back.

Carson threw his arms up. "I dunno! I dunno." He turned back to the water.

"You want to be alone," Rodney stated.

Carson turned again, the motion making his head throb. "No! No I don't. I don't wanna be alone." He sighed again. "I dunno what's wrong with me. My mind's all messed up! Some doctor I am."

Rodney frowned, the wheels in his brain starting to spin. He took Carson's arm and turned him around. "I bet Michael did this to you."

Carson made a face as if to say, 'ya think?'

"Nonono, I mean, I bet he purposely messed with your head and scrambled your brain! After he got what he wanted, he deliberately jumbled your mind up." Rodney twirled his finger next to his head in the 'crazy' gesture.

Carson's face dawned with understanding. "Ta confuse me. Ta make it hard ta remember, ta try ta erase his tracks."

"Right, and let's not forget, 'to get revenge'," said Rodney, dryly.

Carson sighed and leaned on the rail again with his head in his hands. "This makes matters worse. I might never remember what information he took!"

Rodney echoed the sigh, and they were both silent for a minute. "All you can do is tell us what you remember. That's it, Carson."

"But it might not be enough."

"Yes it will. I mean geez, the wraith is dead, Carson. Michael is dead, so it doesn't matter what info he got!"

Carson looked at him. "Do we really know that fer sure? What if he survived, or one of the other wraith did? What if he sent the info somewhere before we fired on the camp?"

Rodney said nothing.

Carson was quiet again for a minute, before he straightened up. "There's no sense in procrastinatin'. I should just write the report and get it over with."

Rodney nodded. "Good idea…but after our snack!" He grabbed Carson's arm and pulled him out the balcony door.

"Rodneeeeeey!"

TBC