A/N: I've got a much shorter chapter for you today. Though it's short, I hope you still enjoy it. I'm also sorry about the delay. I normally try to post more frequently, but I've been really sick for the past few days and any time I sat down to write/edit, my head was super foggy and I couldn't focus. But I'm feeling quite a bit better and thought I'd at least get a little something posted for you.

As always, I hope you enjoy. :) Please read and review! You know how I love to hear what you think.

She had exchanged one form of imprisonment for another.

Perhaps that was a bit dramatic. She would take being kept under lock and key within the safety of the city of the Ancestors over being hunted day and night by life-sucking predators. They had rescued her, after all, and following a long and demanding surgery, they had successfully removed her tracker. They had even offered her a hot meal; or rather, some of their leftover MREs. She should be grateful. But somehow, none of that managed to take the sting from the cold metal clapped around her wrists.

They had wrapped someone's bandana over her eyes while they dialed their home address – as if she didn't already know it by heart anyway – and shoved her, blind and cuffed, through the event horizon. After the instantaneous shock of cold, the hum of an active Stargate, the beeping of machines, and the quiet, characteristic chatter of Atlantis gate room technicians met her ears. Before she could even crack a smile at the welcome familiarity, the cloth was removed from her eyes. Colonel Sheppard and Ronon flanked either side of her, each gripping tightly to one of her arms. After two months of total solitude, struggling for survival, she expected to finally feel safe and protected with her father at her side, but now his presence lacked its usual reassurance.

The rest of their team, as well as the extra medical personnel sent to assist Dr. Beckett for her surgery, were already finding their way back to the armory and the infirmary. Her pupils adjusted to the brightness of the room to behold a middle-aged bald man with big ears and thin-rimmed glasses standing directly in front of her.

"This is the Runner?" he asked Colonel Sheppard.

"This is her," he confirmed. "Where do you want her?"

He returned his spectacled eyes back to her and looked her up and down. "Interrogation Room 1."

"Interrogation?!" she spat.

He gave a nod to Sheppard and her father who rotated her body toward the stairs.

She planted her feet as best as she could against the slippery floor. "But I live here! This is my home!" She looked about the gate room. "I was raised here!"

"And yet none of us seem to recognize you," he replied with a simple shake of the head. "Care to explain that, young lady?"

"Not to you," she retorted as she stared directly at the man. "I don't even know you. Who are you, anyway? Where's Carter?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Samantha Carter?"

"No. Jimmy Carter." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Samantha Carter!"

The man noiselessly mouthed the word Jimmy, blinked a few times, then shifted his gaze back to Sheppard. "You said you found this girl on Sateda?"

Sheppard tilted his head to the side. "I told you she knows things."

"Apparently so…" he murmured before straightening his back. "Very well. All the more reason to interrogate her. We need to figure out what she knows. Take her away."

The two men pushed her forward, down the stairs, and out of the gate room.

"You're kind of a dick, you know that?!" she hollered back to him as they disappeared behind a corner and down a long hallway. "Young lady, my ass," she muttered. She craned her neck over her shoulder to make eye contact with Sheppard. "So no one believes me?"

"We just need to confirm your story," Sheppard explained.

"And until then you're gonna lock me up? You've gotta be kidding me."

"We're just going to put you under observation." Sheppard's voice strained with the effort to remain calm as she struggled against him.

"Dad!" she pled, turning to look at Ronon. "You can't let them do this!"

He refused to meet her gaze. "Look, I don't know who you are," he replied with a dismissive shake of the head. "And don't call me that."

She roared loudly, grappling with her restraints and would-be rescuers turned captors.

"Easy. Calm down or we'll have to sedate you again," Sheppard warned. "You're gonna tear those stitches on your back."

"Like I give a –" She released a grunt and donkey kicked Sheppard in the shin.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, hopping onto one foot.

She felt the barrel of the gun against her temple before she heard the beep marking the switch from kill to stun. "I wouldn't do that again," her father snarled.

Turning her head so the muzzle pointed directly between her eyes, she peered up at him. "You and I both know that's set to stun."

"And you're a tiny, weak, starving little girl. You might not survive a stun blast."

"I am not weak! And you would nev -"

"You wanna put it to the test?" He bared his teeth and shoved the gun into the skin of her forehead.

"Look, kid," Sheppard intervened, "you come willingly and we'll get you anything you want to eat…provided we have it here."

She angled her face down and away from the blaster and listened with baited breath to the Colonel behind her. Her mouth watered and her stomach growled; she hoped they hadn't heard it, too.

"But if you struggle, we're gonna have to either stun you or sedate you and you know what they say: you should always wait at least thirty minutes between eating and being stunned."

Head bowed, she weighed her options. After a few seconds, decision finally made, she lifted her face with the intent to cooperate but instead laid eyes on a young woman with dark red hair about thirty feet away from them. Side-by-side with a man who also had blue stripes on his uniform, both were bent over a tablet and deep in discussion as they walked briskly toward an intersecting corridor.

Forgetting the gun still aimed at her head, forgetting the offer Sheppard had made her, she lunged forward, only to be yanked back by sheer military muscle. "Mom!" she called out, her heart jumping in her chest.

The woman continued to walk away.

She tried to wriggle away from her escorts. "Mom!" she yelled louder.

Still no response.

She growled. "Emma!"

The woman finally glanced up from the tablet and knitted her brows upon locating the source of her name. She bade farewell to her colleague, changed direction, and headed their way.

"Mom?" Sheppard asked with astonishment, looking down at Eva, then back up to Emma.

Emma wasted no time on greetings or pleasantries. "Who is this?" She regarded Eva with a confused expression on her face. "How do you know my name?" It would seem that teenage girls weren't a common sight in this Lantean city, and were an even rarer prisoner.

"This is the Runner we found on Sateda," Ronon answered hastily.

"And she's claiming to be Ronon's daughter," Sheppard elaborated.

Emma's eyes widened, then traveled from Eva's face to the particle magnum still pressed to her temple. "I see…" she breathed, gaze lingering on the weapon.

"Well…Ronon's and yours apparently," Sheppard added.

"What?" Emma hissed. Her eyebrows shot straight up and her eyes flickered over to Ronon's.

The glance they shared was fleeting, but the awkwardness of it was missed by no one.

Eva narrowed her eyes. "Hang on," she started, "you two aren't even together?" She looked from her father and then over to her mother and back. "Oh, this is so fucked up."

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Also, part of the bit where Eva is talking to Woolsey is something I stole from, believe it or not, the Princess Diaries movie. There's this scene where Lily is chasing Mia down the sidewalk and she yells something at her and this group of people in between them turn back to look at her because they think Lily is yelling at them and she goes. "Not YOU. I don't even know you!" I always thought that was such a hilarious thing to say and so I included it here. Inspiration comes from such strange places.