Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis - and all the characters and settings related to the show - do not belong to me, obviously. That credit goes to MGM, Brad Wright and Robert C. Cooper. The plot of this little story, however, does.

A/N – Hello again! First of all, I just want to thank you all for all the wonderful reviews I received for the first chapter - the response was so overwhelming and unexpected! You were all so lovely, and it really inspired me to keep going, so here I am with a brand new instalment for you all. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I really hope you like it too! So, without further ado…enjoy!

~ Alone ~

Part Two

The storm raged on, battering the alien land indiscriminately with gale-force winds that ripped through the air and ice-cold rain that drenched the land and everything on it. It was furious, unending and unforgiving, and had John been in a better frame of mind, he might have been more than a little worried by it.

But he wasn't. In fact, with his mind all over the place, he barely even noticed the deluge that was soaking him to the skin and freezing him to his very core. His thoughts were elsewhere, and he couldn't seem to pull himself back. He was frozen; stuck in another time and place.

A place where his friends hadn't left him. A time when they hadn't betrayed him.

Please don't do this. Please don't leave me here alone…

John shook his head, but couldn't dislodge the doubt that had taken up residence there. He knew it was unfair. His friends had been with him from day one, and he trusted them more than he trusted himself. Deep down he knew that they would never have left him here voluntarily, but the longer he sat on the cold, wet ground, unable to move because of the ropes holding him down, the harder it was to remember that.

He could feel the tingling of anger rising up in his chest, and it was getting harder and harder to hold it back. It was irrational, but the truth was, with his thoughts a raging mess and his heart aching with the fresh stings of betrayal, he wasn't feeling in a particularly rational mood.

He was on a desolate planet, light-years from home, trapped, scared and - worst of all - completely alone. He was no longer on PX6-662 – the original planet they'd gated to - but he had no idea where his team had brought him. All he knew about his new – and hopefully temporary – home was that there didn't appear to be any sign of life other than him.

He was alone, with only the wind, rain, and trees for company, and no one but his drugged up team knew where he was.

Please, come back for me...

John could feel his anger grow, and he did nothing to stop it. His friends, the people who he trusted with his life, had dumped him on some godforsaken planet at the other end of the freaking galaxy without so much as a goodbye. He had a right to be pissed.

Although pissed didn't really cover it. He was furious now. And it felt good to let the anger swirl around his head. It helped take his mind of the desperation of his situation, so he clung to it with everything he had. He knew he would need a miracle to survive this situation, and the anger – as exhausting as it was – was helping him get a grip on the dark thoughts that were swirling around in his mind.

John wasn't sure if he was really angry at his team – or whether it was just his own pathetic efforts that he was pissed at - but he was definitely angry at that priest from PX6-662. That bastard had drugged his team and ordered them to exile him on this wet, uninhabited planet.

John knew – even with the anger temporarily ruling his mind – that there was no other explanation. His team wouldn't have done this, not on their own. They…cared about him.

Didn't they?

John hated that doubt that had taken root at the back of his mind, and it only made his anger grow. Damn that priest for doing this. He'd make him pay. As soon as Atlantis came back for him – and they would, dammit - he would go back to PX6-662 and he would make the entire damn cult pay for making him doubt his team.

Please don't leave me…

Please come back…

John shook his head forcefully, jolting himself away from the dark thoughts that were creeping on his psyche. He had to think rationally. John knew that he couldn't afford to panic. Once he pulled himself free of these ropes – and he knew he would, given enough time - and made it to the DHD, maybe then he'd be able to get off this damn planet himself. He didn't have his IDC - Ronan had made sure of that - but he could still dial the Alpha site. He'd made it back home somehow…

And even if he couldn't manage it by himself, John knew that help would soon be on its way. He just had to wait for them. As irrationally angry as he still was with his team, he just had to trust them.

They didn't leave their people behind.

Please don't leave me behind...

Almost as if the mere thought had jinxed it, John heard a sudden and very loud beeping noise begin to emanate from the DHD. He squinted through the rain, but could only make out a faint, small flashing light from where he was sitting. It didn't look part of the usual DHD design. It almost seemed like an alarm. A warning...

Then realisation hit…

No…

John felt sick with fear. Surely Rodney wouldn't have…

BOOM!

The explosion was huge, rocking John to his core. Almost as if happening in slow motion, John saw the DHD scatter into a million different pieces before being swallowed up by fire and light.

Then a flying piece of the DHD caught him right on the temple, and he saw nothing but black.

Woolsey was worried.

Absently he straightened some papers on his desk as he tried not to worry, but it was easier said than done of course…

Sheppard and his team were overdue. Actually they were well overdue. Which, Woosley considered, wasn't all that unusual when one took into account their combined history, although it certainly wasn't reassuring. The premier team on Atlantis seemed to find trouble as easily as most people fell asleep. It came with almost always being the first team through the gate, Woolsey knew, but still Sheppard's team seem to have a special knack for it. Even the simplest missions seemed to go belly-up when they were involved.

He sighed and rubbed at his temple, glancing around his office as if the walls held the answer. He could feel a headache coming on, and he had a feeling that it wouldn't be going away any time soon. Honestly, he couldn't understand how Elizabeth had managed with the stress for as long as she had.

"Sir," came Chuck's voice in his ear.

"Go ahead," Woolsey replied, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"Someone's dialling the gate."

"Keep the shield up," Woolsey replied. "I'm on my way."

Woolsey was quick, and made it to the control platform just in time to see the final symbol lock. Thankfully the shield had long been in place, although Woolsey hadn't doubted it for a second. Even the most inexperienced of gate technicians had been doing this job longer than he had. For a brief second, Woolsey felt a rush of inadequacy, although he quickly pushed it away. He didn't have the luxury for such self-indulgence. Inadequate or not, Woolsey was in charge. Atlantis needed him to act like it.

"Any indication of who it might be?" Woolsey asked Chuck, who was looking at the gate with no small amount of apprehension. They had three teams off-world at the moment, and none of them were scheduled to return now. Of course, only one of those teams was overdue…

"No –wait," Chuck typed rapidly as he quickly studied the incoming data. "It's Dr McKay's IDC, Sir."

"Open the shield," Woolsey ordered, rather redundantly he thought, since Chuck had already started to type the commands into the computer. Then he had a thought. "Wait, try to get McKay on the radio first -"

No sooner had he said the words that the man himself started speaking through the speaker on the desktop.

"Atlantis, this is McKay," Rodney said. The line was crackly, and Woolsey got the impression that the weather was bad where they were. Not a good sign when one considered that the planet they had originally gated to had been said to have a mild climate at worst, and had been experiencing one of the hottest summers on their records when Sheppard's team had first gated through. Woolsey's instincts were screaming at him; something was very wrong…

"Good to hear your voice, McKay," Woolsey replied, trying to hide his growing tension. "Is everything okay? You missed your scheduled check-in."

"We've accomplished our mission," Rodney replied. "We're coming through."

Mission? Woolsey frowned. That was an odd way to describe trade talks…

Woolsey shared a worried look with Chuck. "Everything okay, Doctor?"

"Explain later," McKay replied sharply. "Can we come through?"

Woolsey hesitated, for reasons even he didn't fully understand. "Yes, we're lowering the shield now. Give us a couple of minutes and you're free to come through."

Woolsey nodded at Chuck, and the gate tech immediately began to put the commands in to lower the shield.

"Good," replied McKay. Then he signed off without so much as a goodbye.

McKay was always short and to the point, but that was a little too short, even for him. He also hadn't questioned why it would take a couple of minutes to lower the shield, when ordinarily it would only take a few seconds. Something definitely seemed off…

"Major Lorne," Woolsey said, tapping his radio. It took only a moment for the man in question to respond.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Meet me in the gate room, and bring some of your men," Woolsey replied before he could change his mind. If there was one thing he'd learned on Atlantis, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Now, Sir?"

"As soon as you can," Woolsey replied. Then he paused, thinking for a moment. "And grab Dr Beckett on your way. I have a feeling we're going to need his expertise."

"Yes, Sir."

Woolsey nodded, even though the Major couldn't see him. Then he gestured towards the soldiers on duty, and ordered them to be ready for hostiles. They followed his orders without question, guns raised, waiting at they watched the rippling wormhole with eagle eyes.

Just in case…

Then he took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the return of Sheppard's team, all while wondering what the hell they had got themselves into this time…

Please don't do this…

He twisted and turned, but the ropes were too strong. They were suffocating him, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He could feel the pressure on his chest, gripping his arms, pulling around his neck, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't get free.

Let me go, let me go, please just let me go…

He tried to scream, to beg for help, but even though his team were standing right there next to him, they made no move to help. Instead they just stood by and watched, arms folded and looking for all the world like they were quite happy to stand there and watch him die…

John jerked and struggled, desperately trying to get free, but the ropes just pulled more tightly against his already battered and bruised chest. Then the ropes moved on to his neck again, almost like a boa constrictor would to its prey, and pulled tight. They were choking him, cutting off his air. He couldn't breathe...

He was dying…

John woke with a sudden gasp, bile rising quickly the back of his throat as the pain in his head spiked to a sickening level. He swallowed it back with a force that sapped most of his energy, but it didn't make him feel much better.

Dammit…

With his mind still a little fuzzy on what had actually happened to him, John pulled his eyes open, but he groaned as light burned his retinas and the pain in his head spiked again. He kept his eyes open through force of will alone, but it took a couple of seconds for his dizzy vision to adjust to the bright sunlight.

When it did, what he saw didn't bring much comfort.

Alone. John swallowed hard as the memories came flooding back. He was alone.

Please don't do this…

As he glanced around the empty clearing, John tried to calm his battered and faintly shaking body. It was difficult though, mainly because even though the rain had stopped, John was still soaking wet from the earlier deluge. Cold was seeping into his bones, and it was numbing his limbs. After a few seconds, John decided that the numbness was good. Numb meant no pain. Numb was good.

Except it wasn't, not really. What he needed to do was...something. Anything.

John jerked his body reflexively, and made a decision. He had to get himself free from these damn ropes. Yeah, John thought, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his chest. That's what he had to do. Except, he thought tiredly, that was easier said that done...

John shook his head and tried to concentrate. It felt as if his mind was covered in a thick blanket of fog, but he did his best to push through it. Using every ounce of experience and training he had, John forced himself to assess his situation, even though all he really wanted was to fall asleep and wait to be rescued.

Except a rescue might take a while now, John realised with a heavy heart. He'd been banking on the idea that Lorne would realise that something was wrong and come and get him, but now, even if Lorne did work out that his team had left him behind, a rescue would be no easy feat.

John squinted. The Stargate definitely didn't look in working condition, and with hindsight - and the scattered DHD fresh on his mind - John realised that he'd been optimistic at best - and stupid at worst - to expect a quick rescue.

The gate looked damaged and the DHD was decimated. John knew he wouldn't be able to gate off world himself, especially since their jumper was dead, but he also had a feeling that the damage to the gate was too great for anyone to gate in either.

And that didn't even come close to the biggest obstacle his rescuers faced.

His team had originally gated to PX6-662, but they certainly hadn't stayed there. He didn't even know which planet he had been dragged to by his drugged up team members; how was Lorne supposed to work it out? His team probably wouldn't be much help either; even if Beckett or Jennifer could fix whatever was causing them to act so out of character, there was no guarantee that they would even be able to remember where they'd left him to die.

Would they even remember they'd left him at all?

No - surely, no matter what was influencing them, they wouldn't forget him. They'd come back. He just had to survive long enough for them to come the long way round, that's all.

Please don't leave me here…

John shook his head, trying once again to shake the latent fogginess from his mind, focusing all his remaining energy on his own survival.

First things first, he definitely needed to get free from his binds, which, he realised, at least felt a little looser after the havoc of the DHD explosion.

With that in mind, and with no time like the present, John immediately began to wriggle his aching body, twisting and turning until he felt the strong ropes give a little more. He pushed his chest in and out with all the strength he had left, pulling on every muscle he had to help him break free; he didn't expect the ropes to snap since he wasn't exactly the Hulk, but he did think that he could at least loosen the knot enough to allow him to pull himself up and climb out.

He would do it, he told himself firmly, leaving no room for doubt. He had to. And then once he had, he would assess his situation properly.

Then he would worry about first aid and shelter and getting home.

Then he would worry about everything else…

A/N – So, what did you think? I realise that this is another relatively short chapter, but these first two chapters are really just setting the scene for the main part of the story, which will mainly focus on John reaction to being left alone (and the challenges he faces on the unknown planet), and also his team's efforts to find him again. Hopefully you're still interested, and that you like where this is going? If you've got a spare minute, I'd love to hear your thoughts, but otherwise, thanks for reading!