Title: Torment

Author: chokolaj

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing, I swear – just borrowing nicely.

A/N: This started out as a mini-fic born on the Shep whumping thread over at GW. The only reason I'm even posting it here or continuing with it is because of all of you on that thread – we all wish we could get more Shep whump (both hurt AND comfort) on the show and never get any satisfaction. I'll try to do my best in that regard, but no promises – can't satisfy everyone, after all.

--//--

Large drops of rain pummeled the ground, washing into little swirls of muddy brown around his boots. A darker color plopped down into the midst of one of the swirls, disrupting its momentum. Deep red lines began to blend with the brown and as the rain fell harder, the colors merged and washed away. He needed to find shelter, yet all he could do was stare at the depressing color display beneath him.

More drops of red intermixed with the rain and it took him a few moments to realize the drops were coming from him.

He turned his gaze upward, dazed eyes blinking heavily against the raindrops that threatened to drown his very spirit.

He was defeated. His team was missing. He couldn't recall which way the gate was. And his time was running out...

--//--

Muddy water splashed around his boots as he ran. It took all his power not to slip and fall. There was a trail of tracks but the heavy downpour was quickly washing it away. He could no longer discern whose tracks they were or what they were. He only hoped that they led him to his team.

He didn't want to think about whom else they could possibly belong to.

A sharp sting upon his forehead awoke him to a new threat. White pebbles began to emerge all around him, splashing into puddles, ricocheting off his boots, peppering his head and shoulders like rapid fire from a P90.

Hail.

If there was one thing that could possibly be more threatening than man, it was the elements. Here he was, exposed to it all and no way to know when he would next find shelter - or his team. His mind was as clouded as the darkening skies above.

Where had he left them?

Thunder rolled overhead, reverberating in his bones as he scanned all around for possible shelter. Nothing but rocks in every direction - as far as one could see in a hailstorm.

Lightning flashed and in an instant, he saw the source of what made those tracks. He skidded to a stop, arms flailing to keep his balance, his eyes wide with shock.

He reached for his 9mil and pointed it at a man he knew had been long dead, by his own hand, in fact.

"What the hell?"

--//--

Eerily enough, the hail had stopped and so had the rain. A swift wind whipped across him like a blade, chilling him to the bone.

There wasn't just one man standing before him. There were several. At first it had only been Sumner, but now he could see the dark eyes of Kolya staring at him from the growing crowd. More and more men, even Wraith began to fill the area before him, each staring at him with pure hatred intermixed with glee.

Man, that had better be one hell of a concussion he had better be suffering to see this.

Something trickled down his forehead and began to invade into his left eye. He quickly swiped at the area with the back of his hand and slowed when he caught the sight of bright red. Swallowing hard, Sheppard raised his eyes to stare back at the silent group of seething men before him - and women, as he caught sight of a Wraith Queen or two glaring in the mix.

"Er...hi." He greeted them with a small wave and a bit of charm.

And in the next second he was fleeing in the opposite direction, firing his weapon behind him...

--//--

"Sheppard, stop!"

Someone was grabbing him by his arm, pulling him to an abrupt stop. Hands grasped either side of his rain-drenched face and his eyes focused on one Dr. Rodney McKay.

"Geez, McKay! What the hell?!" He exclaimed, grabbing roughly at the scientists cold hands and pulling them away from his face.

"John, you are bleeding." Teyla's soft voice carried to his ears from his left.

"Why didn't you hail us on the radio?" Ronon's rough voice came from his right.

Sheppard shook his head in bewilderment. There his team was, standing before him, dry as a desert and staring at him as if he were a madman.

"Why didn't...what the...where the hell have you been?" He finally managed to sputter out, spittle flying from his face as he rubbed a hand through his drenched hair, leaving it to stand on end.

His teammates shared uneasy glances with one another before all three turned to stare back at him with an equal look of bewilderment.

"What do you mean, where have we been? We've been standing here watching you lose it in the middle of an otherwise mundane mission." Rodney responded with a quirked brow.

Sheppard took a step back, eyes narrowing with mistrust.

"What?"

"John, are you all right?" Teyla took a step forward and it was at that moment that he noticed something truly off about the entire situation.

None of his team was armed. Their gear, even their tack vests were missing. They hadn't seemed to notice however, as they stared at him with genuine concern and worry.

He took another step back.

Why was every member of his team dry when the ground at their feet was muddy and the puddles were still running wild to lower ground?

Something was definitely not right...

--tbc--