Not What You Believe
Title: Not What You Believe
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: John Sheppard, OCs
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 1,227
Prompt: Dark Bingo Fill: “Deprogramming”
Also for stargateland “heroes” challenge
They had grabbed him in a gift shop in Union Square when he went looking for a birthday card for Teyla. There were not too many people he would venture out into the tourist areas to shop for, Teyla was one of them. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, but he was in the States, on home ground, he shouldn’t have needed to be on high alert, not when shuffling through happy pictures of Snoopy, Chippendale dancers and fluffy kitties. He was looking at one with a pretty sunset and a schmaltzy poem when it happened.
No warning, no orders to put his hand up, no sound. He felt the press of a hypodermic against his neck and then everything went black.
When John woke, he was handcuffed to a hospital bed, both wrists chained to the rails. The room was meant for two but he was alone. He remained alone until an Air Force major came into the room, carrying a folder and clipboard.
“Major Sheppard, you led us a merry chase.”
Huh? Okay, he could play along until he figured out what was going on. “Well, I had some good training on how to do that.”
The guy’s nametag told John that his name was Wilson. “As we well know. You were supposed to be at McGuire Air Force Base, we missed you there. How did you get all the way across the country so quickly? You must have had an excellent travel agent.”
What the hell was going on? McGuire? “There must be some kind of mix up, I was on a mission and would not have been available to report to McGuire. And it’s Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, Major Wilson.”
The major gave him a blank look. “A mission?”
“Yes, check my records; I’m on an extended assignment out of Petersen under the command of General O’Neill.”
Wilson flipped open the file and started to turn pages. “General O’Neill?”
“General Jack O’Neill.”
“I know a Colonel Jack O’Neill, he retired at least ten years ago, I remember because it was tragic how his son died.”
John rattled the handcuffs. “Look, really, there’s been a mistake. How about Colonel Samantha Carter? She was my last CO.” He couldn’t give them Woolsey’s name; the IOA was classified, as was the SGC. His official records were supposed to have him based at Petersen AFB.
“Since you seem insistent, I’ll make a few calls,” Major Wilson turned and strode out of the room.
A nurse offered to feed him, but he wasn’t hungry so he declined the meal. He did take the coffee though, which he had to sip through a straw as she held the cup for him. When Wilson came back, John looked up hopefully. “All straightened out?”
“Major Sheppard, I’ve made a few calls. Colonel Jack O’Neill died six years ago in a car accident near his lake home. There is no record of your ever having been assigned to Petersen. There is no Colonel Samantha Carter in the Air Force. I was able to track down a research physicist that does freelance work for the military by that name, but she denies knowing you.”
Oh crap. There was something going on here. This was bad. Who were these people and what did they hope to gain by holding him?
“It’s Lieutenant Colonel.”
“No, I’m sorry Major, but you seem to be confused.” Wilson sat in the chair beside the bed.
John rattled the handcuffs as he struggled to sit up a little. “I need Rodney McKay. His number is on my cell phone, call him!”
“Look, Major Sheppard, we want to help you. Obviously something has happened to you to make you believe some things that are not true. We’re going to bring some people in to talk with you and get to the root of the problem. Maybe we can track back to where some trauma occurred that made you go off the reservation like you did.”
He slumped onto the bed. This was going to suck. “Yeah, sure. Why not? Let’s psychoanalyze me.”
With a satisfied nod of his head, Wilson crossed his legs and adjusted his clipboard on his lap. “Now, in your own words, what happened to Lieutenant Derry?”
“I don’t know a Lieutenant Derry, who is that?”
“She was assigned to your unit as a communications officer. You signed her promotion papers to second lieutenant.” Wilson pulled a paper off his clipboard, leaned over and held it up where John could see it. “Is that your signature?”
“It looks like it. It could be forged. I don’t know a Lieutenant Derry.”
Wilson sighed heavily. He pulled a photograph out and held it up, not far from John’s face. “Remember now?” The grisly photo showed a blonde woman soaked in blood, her throat cut open.
“I don’t know anything about this. I don’t remember anything, how could I?”
“You were found standing over the body, her blood on your clothes, the blade used to kill her in your hand.”
“No.”
“Yes. You escaped from the van transporting you back to McGuire.”
John stared at the photo. He didn’t know that woman. Did he? He peered closer. She looked a little bit like Kate Heightmeyer, but Kate had been dead for years, she had died in Atlantis.
“When was this taken, where?”
“Six months ago, in Atlantic City. You were stationed at McGuire at the time and on leave.”
John shook his head in denial. This was all wrong; this was not what he remembered. “No.”
“Obviously, you’ve got a big problem, Major. I’m going to see if the specialists can’t get in here earlier to work with you. Look, you never took your phone call when you were arrested, and you’re entitled. Do you want to call someone, your wife, your brother or your father? They’ve all been concerned about you since you went missing.”
“I don’t have a wife anymore, I’m divorced. And my father is dead; he had a heart attack and died.” John strained at the restraints, he wanted up from this bed and out of this nightmare.
Wilson stood up and went to the door. “You’re in bad shape, Sheppard. I’m not going to confuse you any more; I’m going to let the doctors take it from here. What a waste of a good chopper pilot.”
“Hey wait, don’t go! Don’t you dare walk out on me, Wilson, I outrank you! Come back here!”
He thumped his head back against the pillow in frustration. He could hear Wilson talking to someone in the hall, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make out the words.
~*~
“So, what do you think, Major Wilson?”
“I think the doctors have a really long hard road ahead of them bringing him back to reality. He is completely sunken into the life he created for himself; I guess the poor guy snapped after he killed Derry.”
“His records all note that he has a strong personality, he is willful and stubborn. It will take a great deal of counseling to get him to accept that what he believes is not real. He’s going to be in treatment for a very, very long time.”
“It really is a shame; he was a damned good pilot before this. A decorated hero.”
The End
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: John Sheppard, OCs
Rating: Gen
Orientation: Gen
Word Count: 1,227
Prompt: Dark Bingo Fill: “Deprogramming”
Also for stargateland “heroes” challenge
They had grabbed him in a gift shop in Union Square when he went looking for a birthday card for Teyla. There were not too many people he would venture out into the tourist areas to shop for, Teyla was one of them. He hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, but he was in the States, on home ground, he shouldn’t have needed to be on high alert, not when shuffling through happy pictures of Snoopy, Chippendale dancers and fluffy kitties. He was looking at one with a pretty sunset and a schmaltzy poem when it happened.
No warning, no orders to put his hand up, no sound. He felt the press of a hypodermic against his neck and then everything went black.
When John woke, he was handcuffed to a hospital bed, both wrists chained to the rails. The room was meant for two but he was alone. He remained alone until an Air Force major came into the room, carrying a folder and clipboard.
“Major Sheppard, you led us a merry chase.”
Huh? Okay, he could play along until he figured out what was going on. “Well, I had some good training on how to do that.”
The guy’s nametag told John that his name was Wilson. “As we well know. You were supposed to be at McGuire Air Force Base, we missed you there. How did you get all the way across the country so quickly? You must have had an excellent travel agent.”
What the hell was going on? McGuire? “There must be some kind of mix up, I was on a mission and would not have been available to report to McGuire. And it’s Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, Major Wilson.”
The major gave him a blank look. “A mission?”
“Yes, check my records; I’m on an extended assignment out of Petersen under the command of General O’Neill.”
Wilson flipped open the file and started to turn pages. “General O’Neill?”
“General Jack O’Neill.”
“I know a Colonel Jack O’Neill, he retired at least ten years ago, I remember because it was tragic how his son died.”
John rattled the handcuffs. “Look, really, there’s been a mistake. How about Colonel Samantha Carter? She was my last CO.” He couldn’t give them Woolsey’s name; the IOA was classified, as was the SGC. His official records were supposed to have him based at Petersen AFB.
“Since you seem insistent, I’ll make a few calls,” Major Wilson turned and strode out of the room.
A nurse offered to feed him, but he wasn’t hungry so he declined the meal. He did take the coffee though, which he had to sip through a straw as she held the cup for him. When Wilson came back, John looked up hopefully. “All straightened out?”
“Major Sheppard, I’ve made a few calls. Colonel Jack O’Neill died six years ago in a car accident near his lake home. There is no record of your ever having been assigned to Petersen. There is no Colonel Samantha Carter in the Air Force. I was able to track down a research physicist that does freelance work for the military by that name, but she denies knowing you.”
Oh crap. There was something going on here. This was bad. Who were these people and what did they hope to gain by holding him?
“It’s Lieutenant Colonel.”
“No, I’m sorry Major, but you seem to be confused.” Wilson sat in the chair beside the bed.
John rattled the handcuffs as he struggled to sit up a little. “I need Rodney McKay. His number is on my cell phone, call him!”
“Look, Major Sheppard, we want to help you. Obviously something has happened to you to make you believe some things that are not true. We’re going to bring some people in to talk with you and get to the root of the problem. Maybe we can track back to where some trauma occurred that made you go off the reservation like you did.”
He slumped onto the bed. This was going to suck. “Yeah, sure. Why not? Let’s psychoanalyze me.”
With a satisfied nod of his head, Wilson crossed his legs and adjusted his clipboard on his lap. “Now, in your own words, what happened to Lieutenant Derry?”
“I don’t know a Lieutenant Derry, who is that?”
“She was assigned to your unit as a communications officer. You signed her promotion papers to second lieutenant.” Wilson pulled a paper off his clipboard, leaned over and held it up where John could see it. “Is that your signature?”
“It looks like it. It could be forged. I don’t know a Lieutenant Derry.”
Wilson sighed heavily. He pulled a photograph out and held it up, not far from John’s face. “Remember now?” The grisly photo showed a blonde woman soaked in blood, her throat cut open.
“I don’t know anything about this. I don’t remember anything, how could I?”
“You were found standing over the body, her blood on your clothes, the blade used to kill her in your hand.”
“No.”
“Yes. You escaped from the van transporting you back to McGuire.”
John stared at the photo. He didn’t know that woman. Did he? He peered closer. She looked a little bit like Kate Heightmeyer, but Kate had been dead for years, she had died in Atlantis.
“When was this taken, where?”
“Six months ago, in Atlantic City. You were stationed at McGuire at the time and on leave.”
John shook his head in denial. This was all wrong; this was not what he remembered. “No.”
“Obviously, you’ve got a big problem, Major. I’m going to see if the specialists can’t get in here earlier to work with you. Look, you never took your phone call when you were arrested, and you’re entitled. Do you want to call someone, your wife, your brother or your father? They’ve all been concerned about you since you went missing.”
“I don’t have a wife anymore, I’m divorced. And my father is dead; he had a heart attack and died.” John strained at the restraints, he wanted up from this bed and out of this nightmare.
Wilson stood up and went to the door. “You’re in bad shape, Sheppard. I’m not going to confuse you any more; I’m going to let the doctors take it from here. What a waste of a good chopper pilot.”
“Hey wait, don’t go! Don’t you dare walk out on me, Wilson, I outrank you! Come back here!”
He thumped his head back against the pillow in frustration. He could hear Wilson talking to someone in the hall, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make out the words.
~*~
“So, what do you think, Major Wilson?”
“I think the doctors have a really long hard road ahead of them bringing him back to reality. He is completely sunken into the life he created for himself; I guess the poor guy snapped after he killed Derry.”
“His records all note that he has a strong personality, he is willful and stubborn. It will take a great deal of counseling to get him to accept that what he believes is not real. He’s going to be in treatment for a very, very long time.”
“It really is a shame; he was a damned good pilot before this. A decorated hero.”
The End