This is a bit of an SG-1/SGA crossover, mostly featuring SG-1, but the majority of the SGA have a cameo. Set sometime after Pegasus Project. I'm going to apologize now, updates are probably going to be a bit on the slow side; I'm super busy right now but this story was damanding to be written. Please let me know what you think.

Lt Col John Sheppard stepped through the gate and promptly glared at the grey sky pouring rain down his collar; it'd rained the last time they came to this planet too. He huddled further into his jacket as he turned the glare on his friend and fellow drowned-rat-imitating teammate, "let's just get this over with so we can go home."

"This is extremely important work," McKay sputtered as he too pulled up the collar of his uniform jacket. Under any other circumstances, Rodney would have been the one whining for all he was worth about the weather, but they were there because of him and he'd learned early on that if he complained too much on this type of mission, Sheppard would simple say ok, turn the car around and take everyone home. "Although, I don't see why we couldn't have brought a puddle jumper."

"We tried that last time," Ronan ground out, "there was no where to land."

"Right, right, of course I remember that, genius here."

Even Teyla had to fight the urge to drop her head into her hands, instead sharing a roll of her eyes with Shepard, as the team moved off toward the ruins that housed whatever signal had excited McKay so much the last time they were here. Unfortunately, a call from Atlantis had cut that expedition short soon after Rodney had discovered the anomaly; he'd complained for a week solid until Elizabeth agreed to schedule a return visit. So here they were, walking through a dense temperate rainforest in the pouring rain.

Fifteen minutes later they came to the edge of the ruins; even in shambles the ancient architecture was breathtaking. John, Teyla and Ronan dropped their packs under an overhang as McKay began moving through the ruins searching for his phantom signal.

"Hey, I've got something here."

Sheppard smirked, "of course you do Rodney; that's why we're here, remember?"

"No," Rodney answered slowly, throwing John a look that showed exactly how little he thought of his snark, "I've got a life sign besides our own."

John and Ronan's hands instantly went to their guns. Teyla also made sure her weapon was at the ready, "Rodney, this planet is uninhabited."

McKay shoved the life signs detector in her face, "well apparently nobody told him that. The signal is roughly two kilometers, um…" he spun in a small circle, "that way."

"Right, Teyla and I will go check it out; Rodney and Ronan try and find whatever it is that we came here for." The colonel dug out his own life signs detector and headed off into the woods followed by Teyla. John watched as the two dots signifying he and Teyla approached the unidentified being; that signal had yet to move since McKay had spotted it. The three dots converged as they entered a more dense section of the forest. "Do you see anything," he quarried Teyla, "we should be right on top of him- it- whatever."

They both spun in slow circles, searching for any inconsistency with the surrounding woods; on her third turn Teyla noticed what appeared to be small patch of black fabric, partially obscured by mud, peeking from beneath a downed tree. She laid a hand on John's arm and drew his attention to the area. They approached slowly, weapons ready; one never to what to expect in this galaxy.

John nudged the fabric with the toe of his boot and came into contact with a solid body underneath; there was definitely a person under there. But whoever it was had shown no reaction to the intrusion. Sheppard eyed the man's position; there was no doubt he'd been trying to hide himself from someone. There couldn't have been more than eighteen inches of clearance between the mossy ground and the trunk, large branches made their way to the ground providing further cover for the man's body.

He slowly lowered his P-90, making sure that Teyla still had the man covered, and removed some of the foliage that had apparently been hastily pulled in to cover the body. John's breath caught in his throat at what he uncovered; the man was wearing US military issued t-shirt, fatigue pants and combat boots.

He had to be one of theirs.

That's when he noticed the other part of the equation; the soldier's hands were tied securely behind his back with a thin strip of leather, and apparently had been for some time. The skin around the bindings was bloody and raw, his fingers nearly white from lack of circulation; the dark, thick bands of bruising encircling both wrists spoke of other restraints that had been used as well.

He motioned for Teyla to help him pull their lost comrade from his obvious hiding spot; the man's skin was ice cold, his clothes soaked and nearly frozen stiff. Mud covered much of his clothing and skin; the once black t-shirt hung in tatters on his shivering frame, and raised, red welts were visible through many of the rents in the fabric along his back and arms. A slow, thready pulse was barely discernable beneath John's fingers.

First things first, John decided as he reached for his radio, whoever this man was, he needed help, fast. "Rodney, get back to the gate, we need Beckett and a med team here pronto. And be careful, it looks like this guy was being chased, they might still be around."

"But I-, right, I'll have him here as soon as I can."

John nearly smiled at the sounds of McKay warring with his internal demons. The man clearly wanted to stay and continue his research, but he knew that if Sheppard was asking for a med team than it must be something pretty important. John stilled for a moment as he wracked his brain for a list of missing personnel that matched the description of the soldier at his feet. Coming up empty handed, he dropped to his knees next to Teyla as she cut the man's bindings and gently removed the leather from where it had become embedded in the skin. Sheppard quickly dug one of the emergency blankets from his pack and spread it on the wet ground so they would have a dry place to work. He and Teyla worked in tandem to tenderly maneuver the man on to his back; it was then that the pale light relected off the fractured knife blade patruding from the front of his shoulder. Even unconscious, he flinched at their touch and gave a weak cry as he was shifted. They tented another emergency blanket over the prone figure, doing their best to keep the rain off the injured man.

The Athosian leader left the knife blade alone, knowing that she could do much more damage by pulling it out than it was causing right now. She gave an audible gasp as the man's face finally came into view; even covered in mud, it was obvious that he'd been badly beaten, several times from the looks of things. She quickly searched her pack for a handkerchief and allowed the rain to wet it slightly before she began gently wiping the thick mud from the man's face, revealing more cuts and bruises as she went. Teyla studied his face closely as something sparked in her recent memory, "John, I believe I met this person recently, but he is not from Atlantis."

Sheppard looked up from where he was trying to inventory the injuries to the man's torso and legs. "No way in hell," he mumbled to himself as stared at the battered face, he fumbled for the silver chain that still hung around the soldier's neck. Eventually John was able to free the dog tags from the destroyed t-shirt; the name he found there only served to increase his confusion. At Teyla's imploring look, he simply held the tags up for her to read aloud.

"Mitchell, Cameron, Lt. Col."