AN: So here it is, the conclusion. Thanks so much for sticking with me until the end, and an even bigger thank you with a cherry on top to everybody who's left me a review. They really make my day.

Quickly, the two men set up the trap for the elusive Wraith spirit. Dean found a large beaker and set it on the floor, within easy reach of the high voltage cable. He also moved a few metal cabinets closer for them to hide behind, before pulling a long, wicked looking blade from the duffel bag. Ronon pointed at the machete type weapon.

"You will do the honors?"

"Yup," Dean replied. "You zap it, I cap it."

Ronon's eyebrows arched. "And what makes you think you should be the one to deliver the killing blow?"

Stopping in his tracks, Dean turned slowly to face the Satedan. "It's my knife."

"I've got a sword," Ronon pointed out.

"It's my plan," Dean insisted.

"It's my galaxy," Ronon countered. "And anyway," he looked Dean up and down, "are you sure you're up to it with your damaged shoulder?"

The ghost of a smile played over Dean's lips. "I was about to ask the same question, considering your bruised ribs and torn chest."

"I fought with worse," Ronon replied with a scowl.

"Well, same here," Dean shot back.

The two men stood glaring at each other, neither willing to back down.

"Fine," Dean finally growled. "We'll settle this like men."

"Really? You want to fight me?"

Dean looked genuinely taken aback. "Whatever put that idea into your noggin? We're gonna throw rock-paper-scissors. There's nothing more manly than that. But first things first."

Putting the weapon on the floor, Dean rummaged through the duffel bag and extracted a couple of pressure bandage packs from the first aid kit. Throwing them to Ronon, he pulled a smaller knife from a sheath on his ankle and made a quick cut across his lower arm, letting the blood drip into the beaker on the floor. As the level in the glass rose slowly, Ronon got one of the pressure packs ready.

"Don't overdo it," he warned Dean, but the hunter shrugged him off.

"Better err on the side of caution. I want this to work on the first try."

Ronon estimated that about two pints of blood had dripped into the beaker, when Dean turned his arm around and held it out for Ronon to put the pressure bandage on. His face had paled somewhat, but his eyes sparkled at the prospect of the impending kill.

Despite Ronon's protests Dean would not let him contribute as much as the hunter had, since Ronon had already lost quite a bit of blood during his earlier encounter. Wrinkling his nose at the metallic smell that was filling the air now, Dean quickly wrapped the pressure bandage around Ronon's arm to stem the bleeding.

"We better hurry. Our ghost must be salivating already, and I wanna bet…"

That's how far he got when one of the heavy metal cabinets toppled over and fell in Dean's direction. With reflexes that were only marginally slowed by pain and blood loss, Ronon dove for the duffel bag, extracting the bottle of salt water, and hurling its contents in one fluid motion at the ghost that had risen from behind the fallen cabinet. But the Wraith appeared to have learned its lesson. With superhuman speed it evaded the liquid and disappeared around a piece of machinery.

Ronon was torn between following the specter and checking on his team mate, when a low moan coming from behind the fallen closet made the decision for him. Stepping around the end of the piece of furniture, Ronon saw to his relief that most of it had missed Dean. Only his right leg was buried under the cabinet - but Ronon's breath hitched when he saw a puddle of blood spreading from under the hunter's midriff at an alarming rate. Stepping closer and dropping to his knees, Ronon breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that Dean had knocked over the beaker during his fall, and that the blood didn't come from an open wound.

Meanwhile Dean was trying to push himself up from the floor, but Ronon put a restraining hand on his back.

"Stay down, your leg is trapped," Ronon warned him. "I'll find something to use as a lever, and…"

"No!" Dean's hand clamped down on Ronon's wrist like a vise. "No time. He'll be back." He broke off when the small movement made the bone ends in his broken leg grate against each other. A wave of pain shook his body, and he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth until the agony that ran up his leg was once more contained in his throbbing calf. "We gotta… stick to... the plan." Taking a deep breath to chase away the black veil that was starting to crowd his field of vision, Dean pointed at the power cord. "Gimme that."

With a nod, Ronon picked up the requested cord and put the end in Dean's fist. It was just long enough. "Now scam," the hunter panted, "and remember… don't throw the… switch until it's… close enough…"

Ronon nodded again, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You okay?"

Dean almost replied with his usual 'peachy', but then he saw the look of concern and determination in Ronon's eyes. "I'll make it," he said instead, in answer to Ronon's unspoken question. Then he watched as the tall Satedan rose to his imposing height and disappeared from view.

Dean dropped his head and rested it on his forearm. The relentless pressure on his broken leg provided an exquisite agony that had him fighting to stay conscious. Gripping the electric cord to ground himself, he forced his breathing to even out, determined to hang on.

Ronon looked with concern at the way Dean's head slumped to the ground. From where he was positioned against the wall he could not tell if the hunter was still conscious. Everything depended on whether Dean would be able to perform his part of their scheme. Not to mention the fact that he might get electrocuted if the cable slipped from his grip. Ronon was almost tempted to go and check on the fallen hunter when he saw the ghost again. It was approaching slowly, carefully. He didn't know if he was imagining it, but it appeared to be sniffing the air. Then it reached Dean's immobile body, and Ronon tensed, ready to throw himself at the thing if it made a move to hurt his companion. But the Wraith ghost only had eyes for the blood on the floor. Reaching out with a trembling hand, it put its palm into the puddle, once again throwing its head back in ecstasy.

This was the moment they had been waiting for. Praying that Dean was still conscious, Ronon threw the switch. A spark erupted from the end of the cable, and in the next moment Dean had pushed the severed end into the ghost's body. The Wraith stiffened and started to jerk like a puppet on a string. The next moment, there was a rushing sound, and the blood on the floor disappeared as if it had been sucked up by a giant vacuum cleaner.

The next moment the lab was thrown into darkness, and Ronon's heart almost stopped. They must have overloaded the circuits - how was he going to find his prey now? Luckily after only a few seconds - that seemed like hours to the Satedan - the emergency generators kicked in and a row of orange lights flickered to life along the ceiling. In their light, Ronon saw the Wraith. It was on its feet, swaying slightly, a dazed expression on his face. Then it lifted its right hand and looked at his palm, an expression of rapture on its face. That was all the confirmation Ronon needed. With a motion that was as natural to him as breathing, he pulled his sword from the scabbard at his back and swung the heavy blade in an arc that neatly severed the Wraith's grinning head from its shoulders.

The head bounced a few times before it rolled to a stop by Dean's side. The hunter took one look at the Wraith's face and recoiled as far as his trapped position allowed.

"Man, you never told me how fugly these fuglies are," he gasped.

Ronon dropped to the ground next to Dean. He was glad their plan had worked, because he wasn't sure he would have been able to fight the Wraith off again. He cast a doubtful look at the heavy cabinet pinning Dean down.

"You have to give me a minute until I can get this off you," Ronon admitted.

Dean shook his head. "No way, you've done enough today. Time to call in the troops, I'd say."

When Ronon started to protest, Dean continued, "I'm not going anywhere under my own steam on this gimp leg, and I'll be damned if I let you carry me out of here like a swooning beauty. Lorne has had enough time off, let him do what's left of the heavy lifting."

Two days later...

A deep belly laugh caused Sheppard and Woolsey to turn around, just in time to see Dean hobble into the gateroom on his crutches, followed by Ronon who was shaking his head and still had the biggest grin on his face. It really was a shame the hunter would have to leave them so soon, Sheppard thought. He was surprised how much the usually so stoic Satedan had opened up around him. But Woolsey felt that Dean - in spite of his successfully completed mission - was too much of a disturbance for this expedition, and was glad to see him go back to Earth. Carson had cited medical concerns, but they fell flat when Dean checked himself out of the infirmary after the first night.

"Ready to go home?" Sheppard asked the hunter.

"You know what, this place isn't half bad," Dean replied, grinning up at Ronon. "But I think it's about time I check up on baby bro. We can be cast buddies," he added, knocking on the plaster around his right leg.

"Yes, it is unfortunate that you were injured on this assignment," Woolsey commented. "But I have made provisions that you receive the sick pay a soldier wounded in combat is entitled to."

"That's mighty civil of you, thank you," Dean said.

"It's the least we could do. We are in your debt, you have rid this galaxy of a great threat."

"Well, it wasn't just me, I couldn't have done it without my buddy here." Dean turned to Ronon, holding out his hand. "Seriously, it was a treat working with you. If you ever get tired of this gig, let me know, we could use somebody like you on our side."

Ronon grabbed the offered hand in a firm shake. "You honor me. But my team and my fight are here."

Dean nodded, the familiar smirk back on his face. "Probably a wise choice. There are things to being a hunter that suck donkey balls. But," he added, turning to Sheppard and Woolsey, "one of the perks is seeing another monster bite the dust. Gentlemen, it was a pleasure."

"Likewise," Sheppard replied. Then he nodded at Chuck to dial the Gate.

As Dean hobbled towards the open wormhole Ronon called after him, "Make sure you hide all the sharpies!"

"Will do!" Dean called back over his shoulder, and then he disappeared into the shimmering event horizon.

"What was that all about?" Sheppard asked Ronon.

"Dean told me what he drew on his brother's cast while he was asleep," the Satedan explained. "Now our friend's afraid of retribution." He looked at Sheppard with a big grin. "As they say on your planet, payback's a bitch."