Stargate Atlantis A/U Fic: Untamed, Ch. 29
Category: Suspense/Supernatural/Alternate Universe
Characters: John, and well, everybody
Length: ~ 83,000
Rating: R (for language, violence, and future torture)
Diclaimer: Don't own them, not for profit, blah blah blah copyright cakes
Summary: Project Atlantis is a top secret think tank located off the coast of British Columbia. Acastus Kolya, the project's second in command and head of security, has been following his own agenda for the past year, and now he's eager to play with his latest specimen: John Sheppard.
Now, for the return of Woolsey and O'Neill, and a visit from a tiny rescuer....
Chapter 29
Carson made him walk before he got his breakfast, and he and Keller got to hear a few of those word combinations that only Teyla heard the night before. At least he did more than double his distance, and when flopped back down on his bed Keller gave him a very stern frown. “I didn’t realize pilots were so … creatively verbose.” But the gleam in her eye made John think she was taking notes.
“Learned that … from mechanics,” John panted out. He was drenched, and stank, and wanted a shower, and was hungry, and grumpy, and hurt…. As soon as he got the blankets situated he pulled the floppy gown off. “Hate those things,” he growled as he wadded it up and threw it to the foot of the bed. He leaned back and held a hand over his eyes - to top it all he had a headache and his pulse was making his temples pound. Then a cool touch settled on his arm, and he was squinting at Teyla a second later. He could feel her worry, but her expression showed nothing but calm. He lowered his hand and gave both women a faint apologetic shrug. “Didn’t sleep much.” He got a quick stab of guilt from Teyla.
Nightmares? she sent. Last night was the first night she hadn’t slept in the infirmary.
He nodded faintly and scratched his cheek.
Keller glanced briefly between them and just knew she missed something. She picked up the gown. “After breakfast we’ll see about getting you a shower and some scrubs.”
“Thanks,” he said. And Keller lived up to her word. He didn’t have to walk to the bathroom, thank God - they took him there in a wheelchair, and he was glad there was a stool in the shower to sit on. He had to have help getting the scrub top on with the i.v. still in his arm, and the pants felt uncomfortable against his stomach, but hell - it was so much better than one of those damn gowns that made him feel like a total invalid. That helped with the mood.
And he damn near dozed off during his shave, which was impressive considering he was slouched down and leaning back in the wheelchair at the time, his feet propped up on the toilet, and wasn’t really all that comfortable. When Shelly, who happened to be the nurse that blushed at him the day before, first pulled out the straight razor, his heart damn near slammed its way up through his collarbones. Teyla popped her head into the bathroom briefly to see what his alarm was about, then relaxed as John grimaced sheepishly. He was a little twitchy around sharp things at the moment, and Shelly promised to be gentle. And she was - that and her own practically Zen calm was why he nearly fell asleep.
He was back in his bed, alone, half asleep and finally comfortable, when he felt a conflicting wave of irritation and indifference hit him from outside the curtain. He lifted his head just as Carson pushed the edge of the curtain away and glanced in at him. “Are yae up to some visitors?” he asked, and John caught the implied you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.
John was actually curious, so he nodded sleepily and found the controls to raise the head of the bed a little more.
“All right, gentlemen,” Carson said to someone out of view. “He’s still in bad shape, so if he says no more, that’s it. Got it?”
“Got it, doc,” someone drawled back.
Carson nodded, then held the curtain aside. Two men entered, one a bald man in an expensive suit, the other a graying man with stars on his shoulders and wearing what John recognized as special ops BDU’s. His face seemed hard, but the calm, somewhat bemused indifference was coming from him. It was the suit that was uptight. Figures.
“You call if you need anything,” Carson said to John, one eyebrow raised. Then he gave the two men one last warning scowl before he ducked away. He missed their faint flinches.
John just raised one eyebrow and calmly looked at them through half open eyes. They’d taken him off the heart monitor, so they had no idea his pulse was hammering in his chest. Good thing Teyla wasn’t there right now, or she’d probably charge in and start knocking heads together, no questions asked.
Suit cleared his throat, and right then John could sense a touch of unease under the irritation. “I’m Richard Woolsey, and this is ….”
“General Jack O’Neill.” He actually offered his hand, and John shook it. Woolsey just kind of scowled at him, but didn’t offer his hand. The general rolled his eyes faintly and shook his head.
Yup, Dick fits, John thought and settled his hands lightly on his stomach. The brass seemed all right, though.
And it was the general who jumped right in, before Woolsey even opened his mouth. “We’re here ‘officially’ investigating the, ah, recent events and just wanted to ask you a couple questions. You up to it?”
John nodded, his expression neutral, but inside he was growling and showing his fangs.
Woolsey sat his briefcase on John’s table, and O’Neill reached out and caught John’s water before it went over and moved it out of the way. He flipped it open and pulled out a yellow legal pad, flipped through a few pages, then finally looked at John. “Have you ever had any contact with either Col. Acustus Kolya or Dr. Tatiana Chaya prior to … your first coming to Atlantis?” His question faltered when John narrowed his eyes and a very soft growl came from him. Woolsey backed up a step, and O’Neill even raised his eyebrows and jumped faintly.
John shook his head.
“Then how do you suppose they, ah, found out about you?” O’Neil asked hesitantly.
John shrugged. “Service record?” He’d wondered that himself - God knows they had a medical record of just about every conceivable body fluid taken from him. If they were looking for genetic markers…. He saw O’Neill nod thoughtfully.
“How about Lt. Michael Kenmore?” Woolsey asked after taking a few notes.
It took John a second with the name - so, he was a service man, too - then shook his head. He absently wondered where he’d been turned.
Woolsey jotted another quick note. The he dropped the pages and frowned, and John could feel an actual wave of anxiety come off the man. He fixed John with a stare that was somewhere between concerned and constipated. “As an official representative of the Board of Directors for Project Atlantis, I want to make it perfectly clear that what happened here in no way reflects the true goals of this project, and that they - we - regret any ….”
John clamped his lips down, and was breathing so hard he could feel his nostrils flaring and was one step away from growling again. O’Neill noticed and jumped right in, “What he’s trying to say in bureaucrat-eese,” he said and flashed Woolsey an irritated scowl. “That kind of crap is not Project policy, and we’re incredibly sorry you got sucked into those two whack-job’s personal agenda.” Then he rocked back a forth a few times. “And I want to personally apologize for not doing something sooner, too. I had no idea he was that unstable. None. And he managed to keep everything under wraps with means that were just … not right.”
The wave of pure disgust and disappointment and regret John felt roll off him hit him as hard as a slap. The answering surge of adrenaline made him tense up and hurt bad enough he sucked in a breath and hit the panic button. It took him a moment to get his breathing under control, and the two men must have taken his response as pure anger because he felt a touch of panic. But mostly from Woolsey.
“You’ve been found innocent of any wrong-doing in Kolya’s death,” Woolsey blurted out. “No charges will be….”
O’Neill sighed and rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t just say ‘self-defense’, could you?” he interrupted and glowered at Woolsey. “Simple. You should try it sometime.” Then he had his eyes focused on John’s. “And you can rest assured that Dr. Chaya won’t be doing anything to anything … anyone ever again. Hell, she’ll be lucky if she can go without diapers for the rest of her life.” Then he noticed John’s inquisitive frown. O’Neill waved a hand up by his head. “She apparently had some kind of seizure - now has severe brain damage and has been shipped to a special facility on the mainland. Guess spent three days in a body bag before they realized she wasn’t dead. Sad oversight, really, especially since things were so crazy there for awhile.” He caught Woolsey staring at him out of the corner of his eye and swiveled to face him. “What? It was.”
The general looked disgusted, but John could feel otherwise. Woolsey even let off a hint of, well, justified amusement even though his face was set in a perma-scowl. John just lifted his chin briefly and settled back into his pillow. “What about the major?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse. He reached for his water, and O’Neill could see it was a little too far away and nudged it closer.
“He won’t be facing a court martial, if that’s what you’re worried about,” O’Neill replied. “His actions last week helped his case immensely. However, he’ll probably be a major for the rest of his career, and he’ll be spared getting shipped to McMurdo.”
John closed his eyes briefly and took in a deep breath of relief as that weight lifted off his shoulders. He’d have hated to see the man destroyed for following orders. But then, not following them could be equally as damning.
Woolsey snapped his briefcase shut and startled John. “That was really all I had. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Sheppard. Again, I want to express my regrets, and wish you a speedy recovery.” He saw O’Neill frown at him, and scowled right back. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a flight to catch. General.” Then he was gone.
O’Neill stared at the gently flapping curtain for a moment, then turned his gaze on John. He rocked back and forth a few times, his lips drawn in, and it was clear something was turning over behind his eyes. John just calmly drank some more water and sat his cup back on the table. “I read over your service record,” O’Neill finally said. “If I had my star then, the outcome would have been a whole hell of a lot different.”
John blinked at the man, then ducked his head briefly. “So, is there anything I could say to help the major’s cause?” he asked quietly. “There should be some kind of commendation.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “In my opinion.”
O’Neill shrugged, too. “I’ll look into it. Get back to you. I’ll be here for awhile yet - serving as acting head of security until the new guy gets here. He’s … away at the moment.” The little wave of amusement was at complete odds to the general’s current expression. “Col. Caldwell, good man. He was the other candidate for the position.” Then he noticed John’s eyes were starting to droop. “Well, I better let you get some rest before Dr. Beckett decides to put me in a body bag for awhile.” He actually gave John a little salute before he disappeared on a wave of amusement and a tiny bit of fear.
John wondered what the hell that last bit was about since he felt about as threatening as a kitten at the moment. He lowered the bed and relaxed, and just as he was about to doze off he felt Carson and Teyla briefly check in on him. That was starting to get irritating, but there was no way to escape it. It didn’t keep him from smiling, though.
-oOo-
The rest of the day was an endless parade of visitors. Radek was the first to show after lunch, and he brought with him a portable DVD player and the Battlestar Galactica mini-series. “If that proves too much for your focus right now, I have all seasons of Xena. That requires no concentration,” he said with a little eyebrow bob. That earned a hint of a reproachful frown from Teyla, and the embarrassed Czech bowed out quickly.
Lorne and Ronon stopped by separately - Lorne wasn’t back on active duty yet, and could only stay a minute because he was on a break from showing the general around, helping him learn all the various quirks Atlantis had. Then they were going to the basement. John felt Lorne clamp down on his emotions, but enough leaked out that he knew something was up. But he didn’t pry.
Ronon showed up shortly thereafter, and he and Teyla got in a little bit of a pissing match. It started out as a few innocuous little comments about handling surprises, then something about overstepping bounds, then devolved into an outright challenge to see who was the better fighter. They left to head for the gym and John really wished he could see her pound him into the mat. He and Keller exchanged eye rolls as the two combatants stalked out of the infirmary. And about two hours later Ronon was back with a broken nose, two swelling eyes, and a mild concussion. John could feel Keller’s amusement from a room away. Teyla was limping, and favoring a shoulder, but was smiling smugly as she checked on him before she excused herself for the rest of the day.
Then John was forced to get up and walk again. He actually lost ground and almost didn’t make it back to his bed before he blacked out, and Carson hovered for several minutes until he was coherent again. “I need more than just broth and jello, doc,” John panted out. “A big thick ribeye would do. Red meat.” And his stomach did growl at the thought. He got a damn protein shake instead. Banana flavored. It was nasty.
Then after dinner he got a very unexpected visitor. John had asked that the curtain be left open a little ways so people wouldn’t have to constantly ask if it was okay. He had just shut off the DVD player - he watched the first hour and just couldn’t focus his eyes anymore on the tiny screen, plus the intensity was just too exhausting at the moment - when Rodney popped his head around the corner and gave him a crooked but friendly grimace.
“Hey, you’re awake! Good.”
“Hey, McKay,” John said as he closed the cover and pushed it out of the way. He hadn’t seen the scientist yet, and it actually perked him up to see him here. But then it could just be the nervous energy that was radiating off him continuously that did it. The air around the man practically hummed. “What’s up?”
Rodney stepped fully into the opening. “I, uh, would have stopped by sooner but I’ve been tied up with Woolsey and the investigation. How are you feeling? You, ah, certainly look better.”
John saw himself in the mirror that morning. His forehead, right eye and cheek resembled a banana that was about two days away from being perfect for banana bread, he had circles from hell under his eyes, and if it weren’t for his tan he’d have no color at all. “I feel better.”
“Good. Good.” Rodney fidgeted some more, then snapped his fingers. “I brought someone by who wanted to speak to you. Is that all right?”
John nodded. “That’s fine.” Then he secretly thought, go away, now - you’re wearing me out.
Rodney motioned to someone beyond the curtain, and a second later a short redhead with surprisingly sad eyes stepped shyly into view. She gave John a little smile, then at his befuddled expression she smiled even wider. She turned to Rodney. “Rodney? Could you give us a moment? Please?”
Rodney seemed a little surprised, but he nodded spastically. “Okay. I’ll be in Carson’s office if you need anything.” Then he ducked back out, and the woman closed the curtain.
She turned back to John. “Sorry, I’m Dr. Katie Brown, head of botany, and no, we haven’t met before, John.” She stepped up to the side of the bed. “But I have someone who has been dying to speak to you for the past week.” Katie pulled her shoulder length hair away from the side of her neck, and the pixie woman from the green house peeked out from behind her neck and beamed at him.
John started visibly, then a crooked happy grin lit his face.
The pixie stepped out onto Katie’s shoulder, and the doctor held up a hand for her. She stepped onto Katie’s palm, then took flight briefly to land on John’s stomach. “John, this is Eira. She’s been hiding in my greenhouse ever since she escaped from Chaya’s lab nearly three weeks ago.”
Eira had hair just a shade lighter than Katie’s and was wearing a simple multi-hued blue-green dress that seemed to be made from somebody’s silk handkerchief. She held the skirt and gave John a little curtsey. “It is a pleasure to see you are well, prince.”
John chuffed softly and dipped his head. “I’m not a prince, and it’s a pleasure to meet my rescuer.” The little pixie blushed and her wings clattered briefly. “You escaped from psycho Barbie’s lab? I’m impressed.” The blush deepened.
“My mate, Ifan, and I were both prisoners. I was able to crawl through the bars of the cage, but he was too big.”
John got a sinking feeling. “Is he….”
“He is alive,” Eira replied with a big smile. “He went into hibernation because of the cold, and she forgot he was there.”
“He’s in the greenhouse now, recovering,” Katie said. “He should be up and about in no time, now that I got Peter to quit lowering the temperature.”
“His brother did not make it,” Eira said and her smile disappeared. “Ifan saw him cut to pieces,” she added softly.
John almost didn’t hear her, even with his excellent hearing. He saw Katie frown - she didn’t catch it - and he wasn’t about to share, not right now. “I’m sorry. Please give Ifan my condolences.” He kept his words soft, but his voice was rough and betrayed the anger he was feeling. Then Eira completely shocked the crap out of him by walking purposefully up his chest and planting a kiss on his tip of his chin.
“Thank you for killing the monster, prince of Clan Onca.” And she curtseyed again.
John just blinked a few times and fought the urge to rub his chin. Then the corners of his mouth crooked up faintly, his expression incredibly feline. “My pleasure,” he replied softly and dipped his head again.
Eira nodded and walked back down his torso until she came to Katie’s waiting hand and hopped up. As she was being lifted back to Katie’s shoulder John couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Did you really pix Ronon in the eyes?” Keller had mentioned something about it earlier today.
Eira tossed her hair back as she stepped onto Katie’s shoulder. “Yes. The ogre needs to learn better manners.” Then she was ducking back behind a fall of red hair and hidden from view.
Katie grinned at John. “She’s pixed a few of my botanists, too. They never learn.”
John chuffed again. There were two rules when dealing with pixies - never call them Tinkerbell, and never mess with their gardens. There was no doubt in his mind that even though Katie called it her greenhouse, Eira considered it her garden now. He lifted his chin. “Thank you for stopping by.” Katie smiled at him and left.
John settled back and finally rubbed at his chin with a finger. He swore he could feel a little spot tingle, but it was probably just his imagination.
-oOo-
Rodney paused in Carson’s open door, his fist raised. Then he knocked rapidly several times and Carson looked up from his computer. “Hey,” Rodney said and stepped in. “Got a , uh, moment?”
“Sure, Rodney.”
Rodney closed the door behind him and stood there a moment, his hands twitching and his lips drawn in. He finally forced himself to sit, and he corralled his hands by trapping them between his knees. Carson was starting to stare at him worriedly, so Rodney drew in a breath and let his words out in one quick burst. “I’m so glad you didn’t follow through with your threat, because that, that, that would have destroyed the man and best friend I know.” Then he lowered his head and found the floor very interesting.
Carson just stared at Rodney for a moment, then had to lower his own eyes. “I sorely wanted to,” he said softly.
“I know you did - I heard and saw everything.” A minute of silence filled the office. “I had to share it with Woolsey and O’Neill. We’re the only three who know what really happened to her.” Rodney was grimacing miserably, his shoulders slumped and eyebrows practically crawling up the middle of his forehead. “I hope you understand and can forgive me, Carson.”
“Aye, I do, Rodney.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Another minute of silence passed. “I can make it disappear, if you want. Just give the word.”
Carson raised his head and the fear and concern he saw in Rodney’s eyes directed at him brought a lump to his throat. “Thank you - I would appreciate it.” His shame at violating his sacred oath would live on in his heart forever - he wouldn’t need a reminder.
Rodney nodded spastically and stood. “Be done before you know it.” He opened the door, then turned back briefly. “See you at breakfast?”
Carson nodded. “See you at breakfast,” he replied and forced a smile. Rodney grinned crookedly back. “Could you close the door on your way out?” he said very softly.
“Sure.” Rodney closed it carefully as he backed out, but not before he saw his friend’s face just crumple. As he was walking away, Keller was approaching with a printout in her hands. “Ah, he’s asleep on his keyboard again. You might want to give him an hour or so before you wake him up.” Then he ducked out before Keller called him on his lie.
Characters: John, and well, everybody
Length: ~ 83,000
Rating: R (for language, violence, and future torture)
Diclaimer: Don't own them, not for profit, blah blah blah copyright cakes
Summary: Project Atlantis is a top secret think tank located off the coast of British Columbia. Acastus Kolya, the project's second in command and head of security, has been following his own agenda for the past year, and now he's eager to play with his latest specimen: John Sheppard.
Now, for the return of Woolsey and O'Neill, and a visit from a tiny rescuer....
Chapter 29
Carson made him walk before he got his breakfast, and he and Keller got to hear a few of those word combinations that only Teyla heard the night before. At least he did more than double his distance, and when flopped back down on his bed Keller gave him a very stern frown. “I didn’t realize pilots were so … creatively verbose.” But the gleam in her eye made John think she was taking notes.
“Learned that … from mechanics,” John panted out. He was drenched, and stank, and wanted a shower, and was hungry, and grumpy, and hurt…. As soon as he got the blankets situated he pulled the floppy gown off. “Hate those things,” he growled as he wadded it up and threw it to the foot of the bed. He leaned back and held a hand over his eyes - to top it all he had a headache and his pulse was making his temples pound. Then a cool touch settled on his arm, and he was squinting at Teyla a second later. He could feel her worry, but her expression showed nothing but calm. He lowered his hand and gave both women a faint apologetic shrug. “Didn’t sleep much.” He got a quick stab of guilt from Teyla.
Nightmares? she sent. Last night was the first night she hadn’t slept in the infirmary.
He nodded faintly and scratched his cheek.
Keller glanced briefly between them and just knew she missed something. She picked up the gown. “After breakfast we’ll see about getting you a shower and some scrubs.”
“Thanks,” he said. And Keller lived up to her word. He didn’t have to walk to the bathroom, thank God - they took him there in a wheelchair, and he was glad there was a stool in the shower to sit on. He had to have help getting the scrub top on with the i.v. still in his arm, and the pants felt uncomfortable against his stomach, but hell - it was so much better than one of those damn gowns that made him feel like a total invalid. That helped with the mood.
And he damn near dozed off during his shave, which was impressive considering he was slouched down and leaning back in the wheelchair at the time, his feet propped up on the toilet, and wasn’t really all that comfortable. When Shelly, who happened to be the nurse that blushed at him the day before, first pulled out the straight razor, his heart damn near slammed its way up through his collarbones. Teyla popped her head into the bathroom briefly to see what his alarm was about, then relaxed as John grimaced sheepishly. He was a little twitchy around sharp things at the moment, and Shelly promised to be gentle. And she was - that and her own practically Zen calm was why he nearly fell asleep.
He was back in his bed, alone, half asleep and finally comfortable, when he felt a conflicting wave of irritation and indifference hit him from outside the curtain. He lifted his head just as Carson pushed the edge of the curtain away and glanced in at him. “Are yae up to some visitors?” he asked, and John caught the implied you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.
John was actually curious, so he nodded sleepily and found the controls to raise the head of the bed a little more.
“All right, gentlemen,” Carson said to someone out of view. “He’s still in bad shape, so if he says no more, that’s it. Got it?”
“Got it, doc,” someone drawled back.
Carson nodded, then held the curtain aside. Two men entered, one a bald man in an expensive suit, the other a graying man with stars on his shoulders and wearing what John recognized as special ops BDU’s. His face seemed hard, but the calm, somewhat bemused indifference was coming from him. It was the suit that was uptight. Figures.
“You call if you need anything,” Carson said to John, one eyebrow raised. Then he gave the two men one last warning scowl before he ducked away. He missed their faint flinches.
John just raised one eyebrow and calmly looked at them through half open eyes. They’d taken him off the heart monitor, so they had no idea his pulse was hammering in his chest. Good thing Teyla wasn’t there right now, or she’d probably charge in and start knocking heads together, no questions asked.
Suit cleared his throat, and right then John could sense a touch of unease under the irritation. “I’m Richard Woolsey, and this is ….”
“General Jack O’Neill.” He actually offered his hand, and John shook it. Woolsey just kind of scowled at him, but didn’t offer his hand. The general rolled his eyes faintly and shook his head.
Yup, Dick fits, John thought and settled his hands lightly on his stomach. The brass seemed all right, though.
And it was the general who jumped right in, before Woolsey even opened his mouth. “We’re here ‘officially’ investigating the, ah, recent events and just wanted to ask you a couple questions. You up to it?”
John nodded, his expression neutral, but inside he was growling and showing his fangs.
Woolsey sat his briefcase on John’s table, and O’Neill reached out and caught John’s water before it went over and moved it out of the way. He flipped it open and pulled out a yellow legal pad, flipped through a few pages, then finally looked at John. “Have you ever had any contact with either Col. Acustus Kolya or Dr. Tatiana Chaya prior to … your first coming to Atlantis?” His question faltered when John narrowed his eyes and a very soft growl came from him. Woolsey backed up a step, and O’Neill even raised his eyebrows and jumped faintly.
John shook his head.
“Then how do you suppose they, ah, found out about you?” O’Neil asked hesitantly.
John shrugged. “Service record?” He’d wondered that himself - God knows they had a medical record of just about every conceivable body fluid taken from him. If they were looking for genetic markers…. He saw O’Neill nod thoughtfully.
“How about Lt. Michael Kenmore?” Woolsey asked after taking a few notes.
It took John a second with the name - so, he was a service man, too - then shook his head. He absently wondered where he’d been turned.
Woolsey jotted another quick note. The he dropped the pages and frowned, and John could feel an actual wave of anxiety come off the man. He fixed John with a stare that was somewhere between concerned and constipated. “As an official representative of the Board of Directors for Project Atlantis, I want to make it perfectly clear that what happened here in no way reflects the true goals of this project, and that they - we - regret any ….”
John clamped his lips down, and was breathing so hard he could feel his nostrils flaring and was one step away from growling again. O’Neill noticed and jumped right in, “What he’s trying to say in bureaucrat-eese,” he said and flashed Woolsey an irritated scowl. “That kind of crap is not Project policy, and we’re incredibly sorry you got sucked into those two whack-job’s personal agenda.” Then he rocked back a forth a few times. “And I want to personally apologize for not doing something sooner, too. I had no idea he was that unstable. None. And he managed to keep everything under wraps with means that were just … not right.”
The wave of pure disgust and disappointment and regret John felt roll off him hit him as hard as a slap. The answering surge of adrenaline made him tense up and hurt bad enough he sucked in a breath and hit the panic button. It took him a moment to get his breathing under control, and the two men must have taken his response as pure anger because he felt a touch of panic. But mostly from Woolsey.
“You’ve been found innocent of any wrong-doing in Kolya’s death,” Woolsey blurted out. “No charges will be….”
O’Neill sighed and rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t just say ‘self-defense’, could you?” he interrupted and glowered at Woolsey. “Simple. You should try it sometime.” Then he had his eyes focused on John’s. “And you can rest assured that Dr. Chaya won’t be doing anything to anything … anyone ever again. Hell, she’ll be lucky if she can go without diapers for the rest of her life.” Then he noticed John’s inquisitive frown. O’Neill waved a hand up by his head. “She apparently had some kind of seizure - now has severe brain damage and has been shipped to a special facility on the mainland. Guess spent three days in a body bag before they realized she wasn’t dead. Sad oversight, really, especially since things were so crazy there for awhile.” He caught Woolsey staring at him out of the corner of his eye and swiveled to face him. “What? It was.”
The general looked disgusted, but John could feel otherwise. Woolsey even let off a hint of, well, justified amusement even though his face was set in a perma-scowl. John just lifted his chin briefly and settled back into his pillow. “What about the major?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse. He reached for his water, and O’Neill could see it was a little too far away and nudged it closer.
“He won’t be facing a court martial, if that’s what you’re worried about,” O’Neill replied. “His actions last week helped his case immensely. However, he’ll probably be a major for the rest of his career, and he’ll be spared getting shipped to McMurdo.”
John closed his eyes briefly and took in a deep breath of relief as that weight lifted off his shoulders. He’d have hated to see the man destroyed for following orders. But then, not following them could be equally as damning.
Woolsey snapped his briefcase shut and startled John. “That was really all I had. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Sheppard. Again, I want to express my regrets, and wish you a speedy recovery.” He saw O’Neill frown at him, and scowled right back. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a flight to catch. General.” Then he was gone.
O’Neill stared at the gently flapping curtain for a moment, then turned his gaze on John. He rocked back and forth a few times, his lips drawn in, and it was clear something was turning over behind his eyes. John just calmly drank some more water and sat his cup back on the table. “I read over your service record,” O’Neill finally said. “If I had my star then, the outcome would have been a whole hell of a lot different.”
John blinked at the man, then ducked his head briefly. “So, is there anything I could say to help the major’s cause?” he asked quietly. “There should be some kind of commendation.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “In my opinion.”
O’Neill shrugged, too. “I’ll look into it. Get back to you. I’ll be here for awhile yet - serving as acting head of security until the new guy gets here. He’s … away at the moment.” The little wave of amusement was at complete odds to the general’s current expression. “Col. Caldwell, good man. He was the other candidate for the position.” Then he noticed John’s eyes were starting to droop. “Well, I better let you get some rest before Dr. Beckett decides to put me in a body bag for awhile.” He actually gave John a little salute before he disappeared on a wave of amusement and a tiny bit of fear.
John wondered what the hell that last bit was about since he felt about as threatening as a kitten at the moment. He lowered the bed and relaxed, and just as he was about to doze off he felt Carson and Teyla briefly check in on him. That was starting to get irritating, but there was no way to escape it. It didn’t keep him from smiling, though.
-oOo-
The rest of the day was an endless parade of visitors. Radek was the first to show after lunch, and he brought with him a portable DVD player and the Battlestar Galactica mini-series. “If that proves too much for your focus right now, I have all seasons of Xena. That requires no concentration,” he said with a little eyebrow bob. That earned a hint of a reproachful frown from Teyla, and the embarrassed Czech bowed out quickly.
Lorne and Ronon stopped by separately - Lorne wasn’t back on active duty yet, and could only stay a minute because he was on a break from showing the general around, helping him learn all the various quirks Atlantis had. Then they were going to the basement. John felt Lorne clamp down on his emotions, but enough leaked out that he knew something was up. But he didn’t pry.
Ronon showed up shortly thereafter, and he and Teyla got in a little bit of a pissing match. It started out as a few innocuous little comments about handling surprises, then something about overstepping bounds, then devolved into an outright challenge to see who was the better fighter. They left to head for the gym and John really wished he could see her pound him into the mat. He and Keller exchanged eye rolls as the two combatants stalked out of the infirmary. And about two hours later Ronon was back with a broken nose, two swelling eyes, and a mild concussion. John could feel Keller’s amusement from a room away. Teyla was limping, and favoring a shoulder, but was smiling smugly as she checked on him before she excused herself for the rest of the day.
Then John was forced to get up and walk again. He actually lost ground and almost didn’t make it back to his bed before he blacked out, and Carson hovered for several minutes until he was coherent again. “I need more than just broth and jello, doc,” John panted out. “A big thick ribeye would do. Red meat.” And his stomach did growl at the thought. He got a damn protein shake instead. Banana flavored. It was nasty.
Then after dinner he got a very unexpected visitor. John had asked that the curtain be left open a little ways so people wouldn’t have to constantly ask if it was okay. He had just shut off the DVD player - he watched the first hour and just couldn’t focus his eyes anymore on the tiny screen, plus the intensity was just too exhausting at the moment - when Rodney popped his head around the corner and gave him a crooked but friendly grimace.
“Hey, you’re awake! Good.”
“Hey, McKay,” John said as he closed the cover and pushed it out of the way. He hadn’t seen the scientist yet, and it actually perked him up to see him here. But then it could just be the nervous energy that was radiating off him continuously that did it. The air around the man practically hummed. “What’s up?”
Rodney stepped fully into the opening. “I, uh, would have stopped by sooner but I’ve been tied up with Woolsey and the investigation. How are you feeling? You, ah, certainly look better.”
John saw himself in the mirror that morning. His forehead, right eye and cheek resembled a banana that was about two days away from being perfect for banana bread, he had circles from hell under his eyes, and if it weren’t for his tan he’d have no color at all. “I feel better.”
“Good. Good.” Rodney fidgeted some more, then snapped his fingers. “I brought someone by who wanted to speak to you. Is that all right?”
John nodded. “That’s fine.” Then he secretly thought, go away, now - you’re wearing me out.
Rodney motioned to someone beyond the curtain, and a second later a short redhead with surprisingly sad eyes stepped shyly into view. She gave John a little smile, then at his befuddled expression she smiled even wider. She turned to Rodney. “Rodney? Could you give us a moment? Please?”
Rodney seemed a little surprised, but he nodded spastically. “Okay. I’ll be in Carson’s office if you need anything.” Then he ducked back out, and the woman closed the curtain.
She turned back to John. “Sorry, I’m Dr. Katie Brown, head of botany, and no, we haven’t met before, John.” She stepped up to the side of the bed. “But I have someone who has been dying to speak to you for the past week.” Katie pulled her shoulder length hair away from the side of her neck, and the pixie woman from the green house peeked out from behind her neck and beamed at him.
John started visibly, then a crooked happy grin lit his face.
The pixie stepped out onto Katie’s shoulder, and the doctor held up a hand for her. She stepped onto Katie’s palm, then took flight briefly to land on John’s stomach. “John, this is Eira. She’s been hiding in my greenhouse ever since she escaped from Chaya’s lab nearly three weeks ago.”
Eira had hair just a shade lighter than Katie’s and was wearing a simple multi-hued blue-green dress that seemed to be made from somebody’s silk handkerchief. She held the skirt and gave John a little curtsey. “It is a pleasure to see you are well, prince.”
John chuffed softly and dipped his head. “I’m not a prince, and it’s a pleasure to meet my rescuer.” The little pixie blushed and her wings clattered briefly. “You escaped from psycho Barbie’s lab? I’m impressed.” The blush deepened.
“My mate, Ifan, and I were both prisoners. I was able to crawl through the bars of the cage, but he was too big.”
John got a sinking feeling. “Is he….”
“He is alive,” Eira replied with a big smile. “He went into hibernation because of the cold, and she forgot he was there.”
“He’s in the greenhouse now, recovering,” Katie said. “He should be up and about in no time, now that I got Peter to quit lowering the temperature.”
“His brother did not make it,” Eira said and her smile disappeared. “Ifan saw him cut to pieces,” she added softly.
John almost didn’t hear her, even with his excellent hearing. He saw Katie frown - she didn’t catch it - and he wasn’t about to share, not right now. “I’m sorry. Please give Ifan my condolences.” He kept his words soft, but his voice was rough and betrayed the anger he was feeling. Then Eira completely shocked the crap out of him by walking purposefully up his chest and planting a kiss on his tip of his chin.
“Thank you for killing the monster, prince of Clan Onca.” And she curtseyed again.
John just blinked a few times and fought the urge to rub his chin. Then the corners of his mouth crooked up faintly, his expression incredibly feline. “My pleasure,” he replied softly and dipped his head again.
Eira nodded and walked back down his torso until she came to Katie’s waiting hand and hopped up. As she was being lifted back to Katie’s shoulder John couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Did you really pix Ronon in the eyes?” Keller had mentioned something about it earlier today.
Eira tossed her hair back as she stepped onto Katie’s shoulder. “Yes. The ogre needs to learn better manners.” Then she was ducking back behind a fall of red hair and hidden from view.
Katie grinned at John. “She’s pixed a few of my botanists, too. They never learn.”
John chuffed again. There were two rules when dealing with pixies - never call them Tinkerbell, and never mess with their gardens. There was no doubt in his mind that even though Katie called it her greenhouse, Eira considered it her garden now. He lifted his chin. “Thank you for stopping by.” Katie smiled at him and left.
John settled back and finally rubbed at his chin with a finger. He swore he could feel a little spot tingle, but it was probably just his imagination.
-oOo-
Rodney paused in Carson’s open door, his fist raised. Then he knocked rapidly several times and Carson looked up from his computer. “Hey,” Rodney said and stepped in. “Got a , uh, moment?”
“Sure, Rodney.”
Rodney closed the door behind him and stood there a moment, his hands twitching and his lips drawn in. He finally forced himself to sit, and he corralled his hands by trapping them between his knees. Carson was starting to stare at him worriedly, so Rodney drew in a breath and let his words out in one quick burst. “I’m so glad you didn’t follow through with your threat, because that, that, that would have destroyed the man and best friend I know.” Then he lowered his head and found the floor very interesting.
Carson just stared at Rodney for a moment, then had to lower his own eyes. “I sorely wanted to,” he said softly.
“I know you did - I heard and saw everything.” A minute of silence filled the office. “I had to share it with Woolsey and O’Neill. We’re the only three who know what really happened to her.” Rodney was grimacing miserably, his shoulders slumped and eyebrows practically crawling up the middle of his forehead. “I hope you understand and can forgive me, Carson.”
“Aye, I do, Rodney.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Another minute of silence passed. “I can make it disappear, if you want. Just give the word.”
Carson raised his head and the fear and concern he saw in Rodney’s eyes directed at him brought a lump to his throat. “Thank you - I would appreciate it.” His shame at violating his sacred oath would live on in his heart forever - he wouldn’t need a reminder.
Rodney nodded spastically and stood. “Be done before you know it.” He opened the door, then turned back briefly. “See you at breakfast?”
Carson nodded. “See you at breakfast,” he replied and forced a smile. Rodney grinned crookedly back. “Could you close the door on your way out?” he said very softly.
“Sure.” Rodney closed it carefully as he backed out, but not before he saw his friend’s face just crumple. As he was walking away, Keller was approaching with a printout in her hands. “Ah, he’s asleep on his keyboard again. You might want to give him an hour or so before you wake him up.” Then he ducked out before Keller called him on his lie.