AN: Oh god, it's alive! =D I had to remodel this chapter a few times because it just kept growing. You should see my notebook, it looks like it's been hit by a bomb. Thanks for the reviews so far, I hope you'll like this chapter!

x - x - x

Rodney must have fallen asleep over his calculations at some point. He had spent the rest of the day scribbling nubers over numbers and filling a huge amount of paper with them. Numbers helped him to get a clear head, helped him to escape into a world which was mach more... uncomplicated. Well, uncomplicated might be the wrong word since it was complicated enough to make most of the best mathematicians cry. But for Rodney it was a easier, even happier world.

Numbers didn't expect him to socialize. Sure, he was a talkative person, but he never managed to find the right words to say at the right time. That had been one of the many things which led to the break-up with Jennifer.

Numbers didn't complain if Rodney got snippy and offending. That's just how he was, that's just how he always had been. No need to say it was another reason why he and Dr. Keller went their separate ways.

But the most important reason for his love for math was the contrast to his work. Even if Rodney wasn't good with people, one thing he could handle even worse was death. And given his choice of career he often had to deal with it. Whenever he couldn't safe a man, woman, or even worse, a child, he came back to his apartment and found the needed distraction in mathematical problems.

x - x - x

McKay lay on his couch, hands folded on his belly, snoring lightly. The morning sun touched his face, a sunbeam emblazed his crooked lips almost like a spotlight. The mouth which usually never stopped talking lay silent now, his owner lost in a dream about cats and coffee.

A noise startled Rodney awake. His still clouded mind fought with the haze of sleep and the last images of his dream slowly disappeared. The metallic noise which caused him to wake was followed by footsteps. Rodney frowned. Then he remembered yesterday's events and bolted upright. Panicked he looked over to the bedroom door, but it was still closed.

Rodney tried to locate the sound of somebody walking around in his flat. It came from the hallway. He looked around, desperately searching for an item he could use to defend himself. Silently he cursed himself for not listening to Ronon when he told him for the thousandth time to always carry a knife.

His eyes fell on a white vase made of porcelain which had to make up for a weapon right now. He rose from the couch and slowly started approaching the doorway. When he reached the door there was only one step left that separated him from seeing the intruder. He raised the vase in his hands just like a baseball bat.

Rodney took a deep breath and stepped over the threshold into the hallway. He already started swinging his makeshift weapon when he realized the intruder was actually Ronon. He tried to bring his arms to a halt but Ronon already reacted to the sudden attack. With a skillfull move he fended off Rodney's arms and slammed his right shoulder into Rodney's sternum. The impact threw McKay against the wall behind him and the air was forced out of his lungs when he crashed into it.

He thought he felt every single bone in his back breaking. When Ronon realized he wasn't in actual danger, he let go of Rodney and held him upright by grasping his shoulders. Rodney felt like rolling up into a ball, lying down in a quiet corner of his apartment and crying - no, not crying, more like screaming and dying.

The pain in his chest and back was worse than everything he had ever experienced before. "Breathe, buddy." Ronon said in a deep rumble. Only now Rodney realized he had been whimpering. Despite the agonizing pain he drew a shuddering breath. After a while, when the pain had worn off, he looked up into Ronon's concerned face.

"What the fuck, man? Where you trying kill me?"

"Actually, yes, I was. You attacked me. Thought you were that kid."

"And I thought you were that kid. Or some killer friend of his."

Ronon looked at him and started to laugh.

"Why are you laughing? This isn't remotely funny!"

"Yes it is. I see you took my advice and took a course in self-defense. Still a little bit slow though. It's all about the element of surprise. Next time scream like a madman when you pounce on me. Would be a little more shocking than you stomping around the corner, trying to be sneaky." He still chuckled. Rodney couldn't help but laugh, too.

"You okay now?" Ronon sobered up.

"Yeah, I think so. But my back probably won't agree with me tomorrow. I think I'll have to go and see my chiropractor."

"Sorry 'bout that, man."

"Anyway, how did you get in?" Rodney asked when he remembered that Ronon didn't possess a key to his flat.

"Let myself in." He answered and went to pick up his lock pick set from the floor where he had dropped it and put it back into his pocket. He acted like it was a totally normal thing to do.

"You know you're not allowed to enter my home without my consent, right? Maybe I should call Evan and make him arrest you or at least take away your little toys you have there." Again, he thought about buying an expensive alarm system. Or a dog. An overly aggressive one at that. But he more likely would end up being bitten himself.

"Okay, won't do it again." Ronon said with a mischievous smile and Rodney didn't believe him.

"So how's your patient doing?" Ronon changed the subject.

"I don't know, I just woke up to the sound of you breaking in."

"Well, then let's go and check." Ronon started advancing the bedroom.

The sight that awaited them when they opened the door wasn't really different from what the room had been like when they closed the door yesterday. The glass of water on the nightstand was still untouched and John lay there without so much as having shifted during the night. Rodney went over and checked his temperature.

"His fever is in remission." McKay informed Ronon. Then he sat down at the edge of the bed. "Do you think we should try to wake him up?"

"Probably a good idea, he has to drink something. And he might be able to tell us what happened."

"John." Rodney tentatively called his name. When the boy didn't react he tried again, this time lightly shaking his uninjured arm. "John."

This time the boy flinched at the sound of his name but still didn't wake up.

"Come on, open your eyes. Wake up." Rodney continued in a soothing tone.

Then John whispered something, so softly Rodney almost missed it.

"Stop it, please...don't... leave me alone..."

Ronon and Rodney looked at each other. Ronon shrugged his shoulders.

"Uhm, it's okay. Just open your eyes."

And then finally the boy seemed to react. He blinked once, twice because of the bright light which came through the windows.

His clouded eyes slowly panned the room. He didn't seem to realize he had company, so Rodney cleared his throat. As soon as the sound escaped his throat, John yanked his head around and looked at Ronon and Rodney, shock in his eyes. He tried to crawl backwards to the other side of the bed to get as far away from them as possible. He stopped his efforts when he felt a shooting pain in his right arm.

"Whoa, easy! It's okay, you're safe." Rodney tried to touch him in order to calm him, but it had quite the opposite effect. John only backed off closer to the edge.

"Where am I?" His voice was raspy because of his dry throat. He coughed and then held his head. "Ow."

"You're at my place. Do you remember me?"

"You were at the hospital. A doctor, right?"

"Yeah. Do you need anything? Painkillers maybe?"

John nodded. Ronon went off to bring the pills from the bathroom cabinet.

"Does he have to be here? He's huge."

"He helped me to patch you up, you should be thankful. And besides that, he wouldn't harm a fly."

Ronon returned and John swallowed the pill with the water from the nightstand. McKay gave him the antibiotics to take right after the pain reliever. He seemed to have relaxed a little bit, so Rodney decided to start a conversation.

"So, your name is John, right?"

"Yeah." Rodney waited for John to continue talking, maybe tell his last name, but he remained silent.

"So... how old are you? 17?"

John shot him an angry glare. "19."

Rodney wasn't surprised the teenager reacted like that. His lean build must have often fooled people and this probably wasn't the first time someone guessed that he was younger than he actually was. They fell silent again. Suddenly John startled, panic in his eyes.

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Tell whom? And what?" Rodney asked confused.

"Where I am. If he finds me, he'll do it again!"

"Do what again? And who are you talking about?"

But John didn't answer, he looked at Ronon.

"You aren't related to him, are you?"

"Depends on who you're talking about." He looked just as confused as Rodney.

"His name is... uhm... Ford, I don't know his first name. They all just call him Ford."

"So this guy, Ford, did he hurt you?" Ronon asked.

"Yes... I mean, no... I don't think he wanted to... it just... happened."

"Wait, I'm not following. So he hurt you but he didn't want to? That doesn't make any sense."

"He wanted money. I didn't have more than five dollars, so he got angry. He didn't mean to break my arm. He lost his temper, it's the stuff that he takes, makes him moody." There was a pause in which nobody of them spoke. Then John broke the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm tired now, can I sleep?"

Rodney furrowed his brow but nodded. "Okay. Sleep now, you can tell us the rest later. Call me if you need anything."

John settled back into the middle of the bed and lay back to sleep. Ronon and Rodney retreated into the living room.

"What the hell was that?" Ronon asked when they had both taken a seat on the couch.

"I don't know." Rodney sighed. "Either he's telling the truth and is scared of whoever this Ford might be or he's playing with us."

"We should go and see Lorne. He wanted to know if the kid woke up and started talking."

"Yes, that's probably a good idea. Maybe he can find out what this is all about."

x - x - x

They drove Ronon's pickup down to the police department. When they arrived, Officer Parrish welcomed them.

"Hey Ronon, hey Rodney, long time no see!"

"Hello Parrish. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. I suppose you want to see Officer Lorne?"

They both nodded.

"You're lucky it was his turn for desk duty today. You know where his office is."

Ronon and Rodney went down the hallway to Lorne's office and greeted every passing officer with a nod. They were regulars here and everybody knew them. The three of them had been friends since high school and they were still close. Rodney often wondered why Evan and Rodney got along with him so well.

Ronon knocked on Lorne's door but didn't wait for the permission to enter. Evan looked up from his paperwork and smiled when he saw them.

"Hey, any news from your mysterious patient?"

"Yup, that's why we're here." Ronon said. "We woke him this morning and he told us who injured him. A guy named Ford, he wanted money and was on drugs." He informed the prying policeman.

"Ford? As in Aiden Ford?"

"Said he didn't know his first name."

"Well, it would perfectly fit him."

"Who is this Ford guy?" Rodney asked.

"He's a 30 year old drug dealer and addict. Known for his violence against customers who couldn't pay their debts. Caused a few broken bones out there, but he's hard to catch."

Lorne's words made Rodney sick to his stomach. He thought another kid has done this to John, but it had never occurred to him that it could have been a man at the same age as himself. And then another thought crossed his mind. Was John addicted to illegal substances and owed this dealer money?

While Rodney's mind had been wandering, Lorne had moved over to a file cabinet and pulled out a file. He opened it and spread out pictures of Ford in front of them. It must have been photos from an undercover operation because the angle and quality of the shots wasn't the best. As soon as he looked at them it became clear to Rodney.

"He's black!" He exclaimed.

"Well, obviously." Lorne said.

"That's the reason he was scared of Ronon this morning. He thought he was caught by one of Ford's henchmen because of Ronon's darker complexion!"

"If he really owes him money he has every reason to be afraid. I'd say we go back to you apartment and I try to talk to him. That might be a unique chance to get on Ford's tracks."

x - x - x

But when the three of them returned, John was nowhere to be found. They searched every room, but he was gone. Then Lorne found a letter and Rodney's wallet on the table in the living room.

"He left a note." He said and handed it over to Rodney.

Hey.

I'm sorry I took your money and left, but I have to keep moving. Don't try to look for me, I'll leave the city. I don't want you to be in danger because you helped me, so please don't ask for me on the streets. He might try to harm you, too.

Thank you for all you've done. Take care.

John

Rodney looked up from the note in his hands. Evan and Ronon could tell that whatever was written on that paper, it must have been something bad.

"He left the city." He quietly said. He didn't know why he felt like someone had just punched him in the guts. He didn't really know this boy, but he knew that somehow, even if that was the most irrational thing he had ever felt, he cared for him. And now John was out there somewhere, on a bus to wherever and Ford looking for him, maybe even trying to kill him. Lorne had taken the note out of his hand and read it. He looked at Rodney.

"Do you want me to go after him?"

Rodney shook his head.

x - x - x

After everybody had left, the thoughts in Rodney's head wouldn't stop racing. Confused and angry he threw himself into his calculations again. He kept going until it was dark and he was too exhausted to make it into the bedroom, so he crashed on the couch. John had managed to do that to him two nights in a row. That boy had really gotten under his skin.