Hope is a Waking Dream

Chapter 2

Sheppard felt every heart beat as throbbing pain in his skull as he tried to open his eyes. The small pinpricks of light above him spun and made him sick. He squeezed his eyes shut and heard a low moan, then realized a few seconds later that the sound came from him. His limbs felt heavy and every part of him ached. Voices came from nearby, a low murmur.

For the life of him, Sheppard couldn't piece together what had happened. He moved his hand to touch his head, trying to find the source of the pain. His fingers brushed a hastily wrapped cloth bandaged tightly around his forehead. It was sticky and wet on the left side of his head and he opened his eyes again to find his fingers swimming in his vision, covered in dark blood. As he looked at his fingers, trying to remember why he had a head wound, a voice came from his right.

"You're awake."

He squeezed his eyes shut again, the few seconds they were open enough to make his stomach start to rebel. Swallowing, he attempting to wet his throat enough to speak.

"Where am I?"

"None of your business."

Sheppard tried opening his eyes again, realizing it was night-time, and the pinpricks of light he had seen earlier were stars shining through a canopy of trees. He was lying on the ground at the base of a large tree, with leaves crackling beneath him when he moved. A flickering campfire was lit about twenty feet to his right, and he turned his head gingerly, trying to find out who was next to him.

A man was crouched a few feet away from him, far enough away that if Sheppard were working at full capacity, he would have had time to jump to his feet to counterattack. The pilot had to search a moment to find the name.

"Jenar."

The man grinned. "You remember. I was hoping that head wound wasn't going to mess you up."

Sheppard groaned involuntarily as another massive spike of pain was sent throbbing through his head. He did a mental assessment, realizing he had been stripped of his jacket and tac vest, leaving him with only his pants, t-shirt and boots. Nothing to fight with. His boots were looser, so he suspected they had found the knife he had hidden there as well.

"You've been unconscious for three days. You need to drink something."

Sheppard realized he was thinking too slowly as it took a few moments for him to process Jenar's words. Dehydration, concussion. That would do it.

Jenar suddenly appeared above him with a canteen in hand. He held it to Sheppard's lips and the pilot suddenly realized how thirsty he really was as he sucked at the bottle. The water tasted earthy and sweet - the best water Sheppard had ever tasted. Jenar pulled it away after only a few gulps.

"You drink anymore and you're going to puke it right back up," Jenar said.

Sheppard knew he was right when his stomach roiled. He swallowed, trying to keep the bile down.

"You need to stay awake now," Jenar continued. "We couldn't wake you up. Got no response. We need to make sure the damage isn't too severe."

Sheppard was feeling very confused. "Why are you doing this?"

Jenar paused and looked down at him. "You thought we were going to kill you back there, didn't you?" He looked back at his men by the fire. "I was going to kill you. I was going to kill that woman on your team if you hadn't surrendered. You're valuable to the Genii. I could hand you over to anyone and get quite a prize for it. After I saw you in action that day, though, I had a better idea." As he spoke, he pulled a length of rope from his belt, grabbing Sheppard's forearm and roughly pulling him to a sitting position. The move left Sheppard feeling disorientated and he found himself unable to fight back when the man pulled his arms behind his back and swiftly tied his wrists together, lashing the rope up his forearms as well.

"You know the Wraith have runners. I'm sure you've heard of them," Jenar continued.

Sheppard bristled, wondering where this was leading.

"What you might not know is that my faction of the Genii are the top soldiers. We do the hardest and longest training before promoting men to the field. We have no women in our group. Too tough for them. I think it's time we had our own runner. Only difference is, I'm not putting a tracking device in you."

"You've got to be kidding me," Sheppard growled.

"I'm deadly serious," Jenar responded.

"My team will come for me."

Jenar looked at him, a small smile touching his lips. "No. They won't. We made sure of that." He pushed himself to his feet, his face hidden in shadow. "Your team thinks you are dead. I shot you in the head, Sheppard. McKay saw everything and I'm sure your team heard everything before we sent them through the gate. I may have only grazed your skull, but they don't know that. No one is coming for you."

He turned and joined his men at the fire, leaving Sheppard sitting still against the tree, his insides frozen at the man's words. If what Jenar said was true, he had no hope of rescue.

Sheppard retched, turning to the side in time to vomit up the bile that had been burning in his throat. Tears of pain were streaming down his face by the time the uncontrollable spasms relented, and he slumped, exhausted, against the tree. He leaned his bandaged head against the rough bark, looking at the stars overhead. They were unfamiliar, and he had no idea what planet he was on, nor any idea if there was a Stargate on this planet. He steeled himself to the fact that he would have to rescue himself this time around.