2013 Winterfic exchange "Bad Wolf"
Title: Bad wolf
Author: roo1965
Recipient: Black_Raven135for Sheppard H/C LJ Winterfic 2013
Word Count: ~9,000
Rating: PG13
Warnings: none. Set around Doppelganger 4.4
Summary: Bad dreams affected more personnel than we saw. How they dealt with it depended on their situation, life experience and the support system of friends, colleagues and SGC medical protocols. What if Dr Heightmeyer was someone's coping mechanism? John's right to be worried about what his bad self did in dreamland....
Author Notes: Rodney, Sheppard, Keller POVs. Thanks to CoolBreeze1for the awesome beta.
Genre: Gen, Angst, H/C, did I mention whump?
Spoilers for: Sunday 3.17, Adrift 4.1, Lifeline 4.2, Reunion 4.3 and SG1 1.7 Cold Lazarus.
Also check out great Sheppard video by OBFreak- Somewhere a clock is ticking http://obfreak.parakaproductions.com/SomewhereaClockisTicking.avi
Bad Wolf
"I've got this feeling, there's something that I missed
(I could do most anything to you)
Don't you breathe, don't you breathe
(I could do most anything to you)
Something happened that I never understood
(I could do most anything to you)
You can't leave, you can't leave"
Somewhere a clock is ticking- Snow Patrol
Prologue
Entry 52
I’m prepared for this. Been to all the acclimatisation sessions, watched videos, talked to people that have been there. Gone through the weirdest training sessions. Learning some new stuff from a local- Ronon- his planet was trashed by the local bad guys. He’s some badass though.
Word has it the CO is good, a little unorthodox but worth watching- even if he is Air Force. I’ll just have to ensure the Pegasus USMC keeps its standards high. Oo-rah! My best bud Nick is here too, so it’s all cool.
Entry 72
Turns out being prepared is nothing like “being prepared”. How do you prepare for the truly unexpected? We try harder, train harder, be harder, fight easy.
Entry 104
I thought I’d be fine. The CO said I’d be fine, after that incident with the Wraith on PX34TX. Major Lorne said I could talk to him about it.
Even with plenty of firepower that thing kept on trucking. Freaky.
It had fed. Recently. Nick.
Jeez .I ran out of clips. Jenkins threw his blade. Major Lorne filled it with the rest of his ammo.
They lied - I’m not fine.
Dammit. Nick.
It’s not okay - seeing one of your best buddies turn into a shrivelled husk…and some of the civilians you’re supposed to be protecting.
How did Ronon evade them for seven years?
How did the CO ever survive one of those things feeding on him multiple times?
His ATA gene? Something in his blood?
Entry 137
What kind of a place is this where the Doc can get killed (explode?!) on base? That’s not good.
The Head Doc Heightmeyer will fit me in whenever I need to talk.
I will.
Maybe.
It’s not so much of a stigma in the ranks to visit the shrink as it used to be- but I’ll know.
So.
Don’t know.
Entry 160
Flying cities….WTF?
Everyone’s a little burnt out, too little sleep and too much adrenaline.
Lost in Space.
Haven’t slept properly for a coupla days now. Everyone looks so lost, shocked.
Of all the people we could lose, Dr Weir isn’t- wasn’t- one of them. I can’t believe she’s dead- gone. Replicated. Whatever.
How could Sheppard and Dr McKay let this happen? How could he leave her there with those things? Nobody is who they seem to be anymore.
I don’t like the Replicators, give me the creeps. But I hate the Wraith more.
Entry 170
I thought that maybe Col Carter would make everything better, less of the crazy. She’s seen loads of stuff on SG1. Don’t get me wrong- we all respect her like hell.
It’s just that the crazy keeps on happening. At least she gets right to the point and doesn’t agonise and talk about it for hours like Dr Weir used to before we got sent out.
We lost Ronon for a while. He went back to some old Satedan army buddies. Turned out they weren’t who he thought they were.
I could have told him that for free. Not sure who’s real all the time.
Maybe everything’ll be okay now he’s come back to stay for good.
He’s good at fighting the Wraith. That I can hang with.
I hate them. I kill as many as I can, when I can. I like seeing them die. It means they can't kill any more of our guys or civilians.
Entry 175
Heard from one of the nurses at lunch that Teyla dreamt about Colonel Sheppard all bug like trying to feed on her. Keller had to give out some Ambien. Disconcerting much?
I dozed off after stick practice and shower - and - dreamed the CO was after me, telling me how to kill wraith better, faster. How I could have saved Nick and everyone that we've lost since I've been deployed here. That I hesitated and had no back up clips. That I let Nick down. That others had to kill him for me. If only I hadn't lost my knife during the fighting that day. I fight Wraith in my sleep but they don't die.
Did I do my calming exercises today? I can’t remember. Tired.
Can’t sleep. Don't want to. It's like that song- Every time it rains you're here in my head....
Entry 176
Colonel Sheppard -he’s in my dream again.
Entry 177
Major Lorne had to be stunned. Pulling a weapon on your CO thinking he's a Replicator - not good. Lorne's definitely one of the good guys. Pretty sure.
Colonel Sheppard did go to the Replicator home world recently....
The Head Doc is dead. In her sleep. She listened to me.
Something bad happened in her dream.
Everyone’s spooked.
Even Dr McKay got visited by the big bad. Word has it that the thing almost killed him and then he went and helped the Colonel.
Is this real? Has it/he really gone?
Now do you believe me?
No way am I sleeping again.
Ever.
Command Channel says it’s okay.
Quarantine’s over.
We can come on out.
*~*
'When the scream subsides' (Ultravox)
John:
Nobody expected to sleep well after they returned from the planet with the creepy crystals growing on trees. They’d put the crystals back right where they found them, put a note in the database and had emphatically locked M3X -387 out of the dialling menu.
It was just going to take a little time to get over. Relatives to inform. A memorial service to hold for the Doctor before sending her back to the SGC and her family. People to calm and reassure.
Keller would probably end up prescribing a lot of Ambien over the next week or so. That would raise a nice red flag back at the SGC-‘We can’t cope right now so we need sleeping aids’. It wasn’t the first time certain drugs got flagged as ‘on the uptick’.
The impromptu gathering in the mess hall in the unsociable dawn hours reassured John that the others would still talk to him, even as they admitted that they were all Sleepless in Pegasus. There was still the widening of eyes and freezing of body posture when they first saw him sitting at the table, uncertain if he was going to do something to them. Personally- if he never saw a clown again he’d be happy. Rodney’s whale had been pretty scary too. God knows what the others had dreamt. He admitted it to himself: he was creeped out at what his bad self had made the others do or not do. Not a whole lot he could do about it though.
Life had to carry on for the living, heartless as it must seem to those close to the ones they had lost.
There were reports to write, evidence and data to be collected and filed for the SGC. General O’Neill had told him once that there was a whole filing cabinet labelled oddball and weird back in Cheyenne. John had laughed at the comment but O’Neill raised an eyebrow and threatened to show him, his eyes glinting steel for a second. Atlantis clearly needed its own cabinet.
John hadn’t read the SG1 report about the blue crystals and the Clone Colonel O’Neill. He’d gotten the gist from what Colonel Carter said, and he wasn’t sure he had the nerve for it now. The General’s clone had been trying to help, while his alter ego had preferred to feed on people’s fears. There were years of guilt ridden therapy waiting right there on that question alone, let alone the previous four in Pegasus, McMurdo and the rest of his service.
John declined Keller's offer of a medical panacea that evening and after a restless night, went for a very early long run on his own instead, missing Ronon’s morning thud on the door. Assuming that Ronon had called for him.
He was very tired and a little sore from being zapped backwards by the crystal on the planet, two days earlier and the defibrillator pads from the evening before, not to mention the mental wrangling of dreams and running around after people. Major Lorne had almost shot him for goodness sake. He was not in the best frame of mind to be thinking about tomorrow morning's senior staff meeting, but everyone else was going to be frayed too. It was too soon after losing Elizabeth and Ronon almost leaving to join his fellow Satedan’s.
They needed a new psychologist to replace Heightmeyer. The SGC promised to send someone ASAP.
In the meantime Keller was going to check Heightmeyer’s current notes here and talk to the SGC’s staff to see if there was anything or anyone who needed urgent attention.
Despite his own tussles with Kate in his mandatory sessions, she'd been a good doctor and hadn’t deserve to die like that. Scared and in her sleep. Alone. Teyla was upset. Keller was distressed and John felt guilty. How far had the wreckage of dreams gone? People were going to need counselling and support.
He headed over to the military command centre to rally the troops and talk to team leaders , urging them to be on the lookout for soldiers with issues with him or anything else stirred up by the bad dreams. He made his way to the office he shared with Lorne and the two of them had an awkward but good conversation about not aiming weapons at one's CO, since good XO's were hard to replace. After that, silence reigned in a good way as they got on with paperwork, interrupted at intervals by people with queries and requests. He discussed the city maintenance logs and No Go Areas with Major Lorne, wanting to keep on top of sweeping the city's still numerous unexplored areas.
He was deep into Jumper maintenance reports, pilot training schedules and armoury budgets when his radio chirped.
"Sheppard, go."
"Apparently it's lunchtime. I've just been rounded up and dragged out of the lab by Teyla. Get your skinny butt here, or she'll sic Ronon on you." Rodney sounded irritated, but that was because John knew how he sounded when head was full of numbers and he needed to eat.
"Really?" He looked at his watch.13.15. Major Lorne had left and he hadn't noticed and his last mug of coffee sat stone cold beside him; he’d forgotten to drink it. "Well, okay then. On my way. Sheppard out."
He couldn't fail to notice the skittish responses to his presence in the corridors and transporter as he made his way to the mess hall. Chatter paused noticeably as he made his way across the floor to the line up and grab a tray. ‘Wow, not awkward at all,’ he thought, picking up a biscuit to go with some purple and orange vegetable soup. He tried not to let it get to him as he ate. McKay was still burbling about his whale experience 'OMG '-complete with waving hands. Lunch was slightly subdued but good. Either that or they just wanted to see him in front of them while they knew they were awake. Time would tell later tonight as people headed off for bed. No problems had cropped up so far with earlier shifts that he was aware of.
Wisely, he pleaded paperwork and a meeting to beg off his usual sparring sessions with Teyla and Ronon. Not that he was overly paranoid, but he guessed he might come off worse than usual today or the next few days until the whole Bad Sheppard thing wore off a bit more for them. They could kick his ass pretty good any time he worked out with them; he didn’t want to give them added incentive. Heightmeyer would definitely have wanted to see him over his guilt issues. Mentally he shoved that away to the side. He’d deal with the new shrink when he or she arrived.
He finished off more paperwork, met with Colonel Carter and Doctor Keller again, and then went out to the pier for a relaxing think before going back in to get Rodney and the others for dinner.
He shuttled his team mates into one of the rec rooms and put on Back To The Future after dinner. It was non threatening and comforting as Rodney spluttered about flux capacitors and DeLoreans right on cue. Teyla and Ronon recognised the movie as a favourite and they watched, safe and together as the evening passed.
At 23.00 he and Rodney ambled back to their rooms. Rodney peeled off at his door with a mumbled goodnight, and John reached his room a few minutes later. He stopped inside, his eyes falling onto his small neatly made bed. He was achy and tired from being whammied and the lack of quality sleep. In truth, probably like the rest of Atlantis, he was wary of going to bed and trying to sleep. He answered some emails, pottered around and finally went to bed. After restlessly turning over for half an hour or more, he gave up and turned the lights back on and read for a while. He felt himself nodding off an hour or so later. His eyes burned as he squinted at the blurred pages. Finally the book slipped out of his hand, and the room darkened automatically.
Everyone's dead. You couldn't save them. All your fault. Ford, Beckett, Elizabeth. Bad Sheppard sneered at him, gloating as they fought in the Gate Room. You could have had a ZPM. But you lost it. The Genii are much better than you. Just give up now. Your Father was right. No stamina. You're not good enough for this. Look what you did to Michael - such a mess. Another enemy- and you have so many. Colonel Carter doesn't think much of you; she'll appoint someone else as Military Commander and send you to Earth demoted to Major, back to McMurdo or to the front line.
This time the Bad Sheppard threw him into the open Gate.
Gasping, John woke up flailing, as he fell out of bed with a muffled thud as he dragged the covers with him.
Jeez. Was that weird dreaming about himself? His body didn't think so judging by the sweat on his brow and pooling on his chest and arms. Uggh. Shakily he rolled over and stood up heading for the shower, stripping off his T-shirt as he went.
Clean and warm a few minutes later he wore his bath towel as he re- made his bed. He had to decide whether to get back in for a few hours or give up for the night. He checked his watch 04.37. More sleep than expected, he thought idly scratching his chin. He was awake now and decided to go for a walkabout and a run until it was time to meet Rodney for breakfast and prepare for senior staff meeting. Dressing in a T-shirt and sweatpants and running shoes, he left his room and headed for the Gate Room's control deck, checking in with the duty officer.
"Sergeant Lewis, any problems? Anything I should know about? Otherwise I'm going for a run."
"Colonel? Oh. wasn't expecting you this early. Patrols report a few more people out walking or in the gym or firing range than usual for early shift. But, you know..." Lewis shrugged tiredly.
John sighed ruefully. He knew.
"Oh, a few minor outages cropped up in sector Z10, sir. Door sensor not working. Maybe there's more damage down there from the attack. Henderson and Lawrence are on their way to check it out -for safety before sending in maintenance or engineers," Lewis added.
John tried to place the men but only had a vague impression. Mid to late twenties, been on Atlantis for over a year, maybe, not sure. Focused, intense, on SGA-7and one of them had an aptitude for hunting Wraith and drones. Both were good steady Marines.
"Okay. You know what? I’ll join them and see what’s up. On my way." John said, more of an order than a request. The Marines just "Yes, sir'd " him in his ears.
It was going to take half an hour or so to get to that lower level, even at a jog. It was prone to flooding since the attack and landing on the new home world, and navigating those corridors was a little tricky. But John needed the exercise, and after four years with McKay and Zelenka, he liked to think he knew a bit about control panels, glitching doors and sensors. No need to wake essential personnel if they'd managed to get some much needed sleep.
John ran along corridors and into the nearest transporter and then down to several more levels.
Z10 always smelt a bit funky. They couldn't get rid of the briny sea-weedy smell and the doors and sensors were constantly going offline or sparking a cascade to a nearby sector. There were still potentially useful storage rooms or labs down here though, and the scientists had been grumbling about more space lately.
As he jogged down the main corridor in Z10 John looked for signs of Henderson or Lawrence but he saw no-one. The lights throughout the corridor flickered on and off leaving various sectors dark.
As John rounded a corner at speed, he slid twisting an ankle, landing on his right side and slamming his wrist into the ground.
"Son of a ..." he grunted. He took a deep breath a pain sliced through him. After a minute, he decided he wasn't seriously injured and hobbled to his feet. He gingerly tested his mobility, wincing at the pang in his ankle as he moved away from the pool of water.
"Damned flooded wash rooms…" he griped.
Limping slowly over to a control panel on the wall he leaned over and popped the panel open. Before he could do anything else, he heard a noise behind him.
"Henderson? Lawrence? " he called out, straightening and beginning to turn.
Suddenly, someone grabbed his head and smashed it into the wall. Dazed, John fell against the wall, scraping his cheek against the control panel cover. He got an impression of uniform and boots as he was grabbed around the shoulders and thrown through an open doorway. His feet slid in the water again and he went over onto his back. His assailant landed on top of him a second later grabbed his head, slamming against the floor. Fingers scrabbled round his ear a second later and his comm was gone. John tried to get with the program. He heaved up and punched at the closest target, hitting someone's stomach. His fists hit Tac vest plate and he grimaced.
Stupid. Shoulda aimed for the throat, he thought and then more blows pounded him in the face and abdomen. He caught a glimpse of his attacked and frowned.
"Wha..? Lawrence? ”
Dammit, he wasn't in uniform. He had only his track pant, t shirt and his training, and he was at a severe disadvantage. But Lawrence hadn’t been alone down here. Henderson was with him. Would they both attack him?
"Hey! Henderson?” he called out, hoping only one Marine had gone crazy. “A little help here!" Lawrence’s weight disappeared and John immediately struggled upright and weaved to one side, dizzy and blood pooling in his eye.
He could hardly see straight and the move probably saved him as blue light arced into the dark and flashed off his right arm instead of his chest. The nerves went numb immediately and John stumbled.
What the hell? A stunner.
“Henderson's not here. Sent him back already.” yelled his attacker. "Only me." Lawrence rushed in again, and John saw him aim a Wraith hand stunner.
He spun and kicked out knocking the stunner from Lawrence’s hands. It clattered away into the dark and he moved in that direction, punching out with his left-hand. He took another hit to the ribs as Lawrence came at him with a savage yell.
John dropped to his knees, dodging most of Lawrence’s renewed attack, and saw an opportunity. The stunner lay just a half dozen feet away. He used Lawrence’s momentum to push him past him, then scuttled across the floor toward the stunner.
The blows had left him dazed and numb, and moving just a little bit slow. He wavered a moment too long , a sharp ache spreading through his back. It felt like he’d been punched or kicked twice in the back. Not good for his kidneys. Metal flashed in the corner of his eye and hot pain skimmed the forearm stretching out in front of him.
A knife?
He managed to jab an elbow backwards into a face , and Lawrence -now clammering on top of him to pull him away from the stunner-screeched. John felt hot blood splatter on his arm, but he wasn’t sure whether it was his or Lawrence’s. Both, maybe. John twisted, locking his legs with Lawrence’s and throwing the man off balance. They rolled, breathing harshly and panting as they struggled for possession of the knife. The stunner was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles out of reach. Above him, John heard mumbling about Wraith and not sleeping and things that weren’t real anymore and not dying.
“Lawrence, it’s Colonel Sheppard! Let me help you before it’s too late!”
“No! It will only end if ... I have to get this right, like you said. One more Wraith. ” Lawrence answered, his voice high-pitched and wild.
They rolled twice more, and then John felt the stunner underneath. With a surge of adrenaline, he kicked Lawrence back, grabbed the stunner, and fired straight at Lawrence’s chest one handed. Lawrence dropped like a sack of spuds, landing with a splat in a puddle of water, the knife dropping harmlessly to the ground.
John dropped the stunner and lay back, resting for a half a minute as he tried to catch his breath. Not wanting to wait too long, he groggily rolled over and stood up but then half bent over in pain. He staggered over to the Marine and knelt down again, fighting through the fiery pain spreading through his body. With one hand braced against the floor to keep himself upright, he searched for the zipties in Lawrence’s vest pocket. When he had one, he pushed the Marine onto his side, gathered his hands behind him, and clumsily put one on.
His breathing hitched in pain as he bent over. Blood dripped down his face, and swelling had reduced his vision to one eye. The adrenaline crash was setting in, now that the threat had lessened. Befuddled, he tried to remember how long the stunner incapacitated. Forty minutes, an hour? Couldn't remember. Dear Lord, his face and head throbbed, and his back hurt.
Groaning he reached round to rub his lower back and stared dumbly at the red blood coating his left hand. This was bad. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so good. Sweat popped out across his body, and he panted for breath. Dizzy, he found himself back on his hand and knees. He needed to stay awake. He needed Lawrence’s comm. He needed help.
The pain was too deep and heavy, and he slumped to the floor. He lost time- minutes, maybe? It was damp, and he shivered. His face and hand were wet. His right arm was still numb and useless. He tried to reach round and keep pressure on his back, feeling warmth run over his fingers, but the position was awkward and caused more pain to his ribs.
He had to move, get help. Abandoning the wound, he doggedly dragged himself along the floor making for the wall. Slowly he managed to sit upright. He glared back at the unconscious Lawrence as he did so. That would teach him for stealing a Wraith stunner.
Darkness edged in from all sides as John tried to slide and push himself up the smooth surface of the wall. If he could stay vertical long enough to reach the main corridor or even a transporter he could get help. The com! That’s what he needed to get. And bandages!
He managed a few feet before he fell, sprawling loose limbed on his left side. He noticed blood pooling and running into the puddle, a red stain spreading out around him, and then he passed out.
~*~
0600
Rodney was not normally up and awake at this time unless he’d pulled an all-nighter and was off to bed. But like everyone else last night, he’d slept a bit and woken, trying not to dream of whales and Evil Sheppard being all smug and taunting. His chest felt bruised from the defibrillator pads. But he supposed it had all been worth it to be rid of the crystal entity.
He was sure Sheppard would be up as well so breakfast would be super early today. A memory of Sheppard lying lifeless on the bed next to him flit through his mind and he shivered. That had been the second time he’d seen Sheppard shocked back to life. He shook his head, forcing the memory away. He could tease him about the lack of surfing beauties in Evil Sheppard Land instead.
“Sheppard? I’m awake so we might as well have breakfast. Yes, I know, Ha Ha it’s before six thirty am, wonders will never cease and all that," he called out on his radio.
Silence. There was no answering drawl or comment. Maybe Sheppard was in the shower.
He decided to try again in a bit.
First he needed coffee. He wandered along the corridor almost past John’s door when he decided to stop and knock. He waited, straining to hear movement on the other side, but he heard no sounds and got no reply. With barely a second’s hesitation, he overrode the panel and went in. The bathroom mirror was still steamy and the bed was made. Sheppard was definitely up, then.
“Ronon? Is Sheppard with you?” he asked, tapping his radio earpiece again
“ No, he was gone when I went by over half an hour ago,” Ronon replied instantly "Missed him yesterday too. I haven’t seen him on my run. Figured we’d meet up later at breakfast.”
Rodney tried Sheppard again, worry niggling at him. It was unusual for Sheppard to ignore any hail on the comm. Even if he was in the mess hall already.
“Colonel Sheppard? Come in?”
Another voice butted in "Doctor McKay, this Sergeant Lewis on the control deck. Colonel Sheppard left to catch up with a patrol team to check out section Z10, but none of them have checked back here in the last 40 minutes.”
Rodney didn’t like the sound of it. Trouble magnet, that’s what Sheppard was. How he ever made it through college and flight school- let alone daily life on Atlantis, he didn’t know. Rodney was already moving down the corridor his brain busy working out the quickest way to Z10.
“Check the scans for SubQ’s in the area. See if they are still there.”
“There are two in the right area. There should be three- I sent Henderson and Lawrence earlier. The Colonel said he’d jog toward them to secure the area and help out with glitchy panels and stuff before we sent out technicians or engineers.”
Rodney was already in the first transporter. “Call Major Lorne for a second team and alert the infirmary for whoever’s on call. We may need medical help.”
“Uh...” Lewis stuttered. “Why would they need med-”
“Because this is Sheppard we’re talking about,” he interrupted. “And he wouldn’t ignore me if there wasn’t something bad going on. I have a gut feeling he’s in trouble, and since I’m a genius, I would listen to my gut feelings and do what I say,” he snapped.
He hated running and any form of exercise, but four years of running away from angry Wraith and Genii had improved his stamina. While he couldn’t and didn’t want to compete with Sheppard and Ronon’s daily runs, he could jog along the long corridors faster than he used to.
Today he was glad for the extra stamina. He tried Sheppard on the radio again, then Henderson and Lawrence, with no answer. The bad feeling in his gut got worse.
Lorne’s voice sounded in Rodney’s ear. “McKay? I located Henderson. He says he finished his patrol at 0530 as usual and headed back to his room before Colonel Sheppard reached them. Lawrence said he’d wait for the Colonel in case Sheppard wanted to check out the glitchy lights anyway.”
“He left him alone down there?” Rodney asked, incredulous. An image of a whale floated through his mind and he shook his head, banishing the thought.
“Lawrence insisted on waiting in Z10. Henderson's a newbie, and Lawrence has been here longer, so Henderson figured it was okay."
“With everything that’s been going on, I’m sure he wouldn’t want either one of them wandering around down there alone! It’s against protocol!” Rodney persisted.
“I’m inclined to agree with you, but let's hope we're all mistaken." Rodney could hear Lorne’s rushed words and the sound of boots clomping as he and his unit made for Z10.
“Major, is the Colonel armed or what?”
“Henderson didn’t see him.”
"Control here,” Lewis interrupted. “No, Doctor McKay, he wasn’t. He looked like he was going for a run when I told him about the glitching log.”
“Dammit!” Rodney didn’t have his gun either.
"Hang on, Doctor, Major! I’m pulling the environmental logs from down there, and it looks like there was some weapon activity half an hour ago."
“Sergeant, what kind of weapons fire? P90 or 9 mil?” asked Lorne.
“Wraith hand stunner!”
“What?!” shouted Rodney and Lorne together over the comm link. Why would one of them have the stubby handguns? Either they knew something no-one else did, or one of them was having a bad day.
"McKay, wait until we get there!" Lorne ordered.
"I'll try!" Rodney didn't want to get hurt either, but now he knew Sheppard was in trouble.
Adrenaline pumped hard through Rodney’s body as he skidded round the last corridor causing his heart to thud madly. He slowed down. The last of the corridor light cast shadows and deeper darkness ahead. He couldn’t tell if the darker patches were other corridors or doorways into rooms. Z10 often had trouble with bathroom malfunctions, so water was likely an issue too.
“Lawrence? Sheppard?”
Silence.
He rounded a corner and his feet squished in liquid. He glanced down at his toes then jerked his head up again. The sight of two slumped bodies in the room next to him galvanised him into action He quickly checked for any trailing wires or sparks, but there was nothing. Electrocution threat eliminated.
“Lorne. They're both here unconscious. Checking them now.”
Where was the stunner? Was Lawrence dead?
“Medical alert stat to Z10 corridor 3. Two casualties.” Rodney called out. He needed help.
Rodney approached Lawrence slowly, knowing Lorne was still several minutes behind him, but relaxed when he saw the zip-tied hands. He checked Lawrence's pulse anyway, and sighed in relief. Okay, alive. He had some contusions and there was blood on his hands but nothing seemed life threatening. Rodney glanced around but still couldn't see the stunner.
He moved towards Sheppard next, his shoes squelching through the water and knelt down next to Sheppard . The Colonel was lying on his left side, his left arm outstretched . What was he wearing? Some weird patterned light and dark T-shirt Rodney didn’t remember seeing before. But it's not like he should know all of Sheppard's T-shirts. He pushed the random thought to one side as he felt for Sheppard's pulse and felt his heart ramp up again.
“Sheppard!" he called out. He checked Sheppard's body for injuries, then jerked his own hands away in horror as he realised that the blotchy dark colour on Sheppard's torso was blood. Sheppard's face was also covered in blood, contusions marring his cheek and forehead, one eye swollen closed Blood pooled into the light of the corridor , and Rodney searched for its source. “Dammit!” he bit out, spotting the slash on Sheppard’s arm. Rodney grabbed it and pressed his palm against it watching the blood slow to a trickle.
He had other wounds. Rodney was sure of it. Think dammit he thought. Sheppard's airway was open in case he vomited and he was already lying on his side. He was breathing. Circulation -there was blood loss- which needed to be stopped so Sheppard wouldn't go into shock before the medics arrived.
He tapped his comm and yelled for help again. “Lawrence’s is out stunned and restrained. Sheppard...Oh God, Sheppard’s bad. I need a Medic, Doctor Keller, somebody! There’s blood everywhere. He's been stabbed, maybe stunned too.”
Reluctantly he let go of Sheppard's arm for a few seconds and ran over to Lawrence’s vest. He grabbed the bandages from a pocket and was ripping open and unrolling the first one as he heard boots thunder down the corridor. Lorne appeared, scanning the room for half a second before waving two of his men over to Lawrence to stand guard. He ordered the third man to find the stunner and knife, and then he knelt on the other side of Sheppard. The extra hands helped tug and tie the bandage round Sheppard’s arm and then secure one round his torso.
“Sheppard, wake up. Come on!” Rodney yelled.
He pressed hard against the bandage on Sheppard's arm. P90 lights bounced around making everything nightmarish. Lorne braced Sheppard’s neck and back keeping them straight. It was lucky Sheppard had fallen over onto his side and not face down in the water.
“Can’t we move him out of the water at least?” Rodney asked.
“Not until we can get a C collar and back board on him." a medic called out, darting into the room. He ripped open his bag and dug out more bandages adding them to the one's Rodney and Lorne had applied to Sheppard's back. Rodney gulped, noticing for the first time that there were two wounds in his back not one. He felt sick.
“Has he said anything, woken at all?” the medic asked.
“No!”
“Infirmary, be advised he's non responsive to sound. Two wounds to the back, facial contusions, deep laceration to the left forearm. Possible concussion and neck trauma ” Lorne’s medic kept a hand on Sheppard's pulse as he spoke into his comm to the medical team.
More feet pounded down the corridor at last, along with the welcome sounds of the rattling gurneys.
Doctor Keller appeared a second later and Rodney breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the scene. She directed one team to the stunned Lawrence and moved immediately to Sheppard, taking off her stethoscope and shoving it against Sheppard's T shirt. Seconds later she peeled back his eyelids and shined her penlight into his eyes.
"Pupils round and sluggish, reactive to light. Excessive oedema to the left orbital. We're going to need the scanner. Make sure they've got plenty of O Neg and the rapid infuser ready." Keller ordered into her radio
Rodney watched in silence as one of the nurses attached a BP cuff to Sheppard's nearest arm, unable to move. Scissors appeared and the T- shirt was lifted out of the way, his dog-tags slid to one side and pooling into the water. Sheppard's ribs were palpated and Keller listened to his lungs and then sticky pads went onto the chest and beeps sounded on the monitor.
"Guarding and tenderness to the chest. Three ribs on the left a bit crunchy. Good breath sounds bilaterally, but keep let’s keep an eye out for tension pneumo or haemothorax. "
Rodney hoped that meant no ribs into the lungs.
“You can let go now Rodney, we’ve got this,” she said gently. He was still gripping the bandage round Sheppard’s arm. He let go.
Things happened all at once in a well worn choreographed manoeuvre. A rigid plastic C- Collar went round Sheppard's neck. A back board suddenly appeared behind him, and before they rolled him onto it Doctor Keller lifted up the corners of the bandage and gauze and pressed gently along his spine. A portable O2 cylinder clunked onto the floor and a mask was strapped to his face.
"Do you think his spine's damaged?" Lorne asked, worried.
"I can't be sure without pulling the bandages away and re-starting the bleeding.. There's the possibility of kidney, liver or bowel injuries. I don't know how deep these wounds are."
There was no response from Sheppard throughout. Rodney didn't want him to be in pain, but the silence was un-nerving. Small puffs of air fogged the mask, much to Rodney's relief.
Sheppard was log rolled onto the back board and his head taped in position. A saline IV was already feeding into his arm and the O2 bottle and monitor were tucked by his feet. Rodney finally stepped back and Lorne and the medical team slowly and gently lifted Sheppard onto the gurney As soon as he was secure they took off.
Rodney stood up slowly. Sheppard’s discarded T-shirt lay soggy and crumpled on the floor. The other gurney and guards with Lawrence had gone as well. When had that happened? He hadn't even noticed.
He walked down the corridor his pants, shirt and hands wet with water and smeared with blood. When someone touched his arm he startled and looked up. It was one of Lorne's men.
"C'mon Doc. The Major says I have to get you back in one piece." Rodney nodded numbly and followed him on auto pilot.
~*~
By the time he made it to the Infirmary, Teyla and Ronon had arrived. How could he have forgotten them? But they didn't tell him off. Their eyes widened and they looked shocked as he wandered in. Teyla came over and led him to a seat while Ronon hovered further in trying to see what was happening.
"Rodney! Are you alright?"
"Yes! No! Sheppard's...." he didn't know what he was trying to say. He felt hot and cold at the same time and he shivered. Suddenly a warm blanket was thrown round his shoulders.
"Doctor McKay, are you hurt at all? Is any of this yours?" a nurse asked. Teyla shook her head answering for him.
“Have something to drink. Here are some clean scrubs if you want to change or clean up here. We'll tell you any information when we have it." The mug of sweet tea (didn’t they know he hated tea?) trembled in his hand but he sipped at it. Teyla sat next to him the whole time. They didn't speak until he'd done with the tea, then she gently urged him towards the clean up area.
~*~
Keller:
In the trauma station it was organised chaos as Sheppard's gurney was wheeled and locked into place. New machines arrived and were plugged in to take over from the portable ones. A bag of blood appeared and a pulse-ox was clipped to his finger adding to the beeps and digital readouts.
"Okay, CBC, dip his urine. Get a sub-clavian going and squeeze that O Neg in there! Let's get those scans and films people! How’s his BP? Pulse 120… Lets...." Keller was interrupted by a choking noise and jerky movement from Colonel Sheppard.
"Look out, he's vomiting! Roll him! Watch for aspiration. " She ordered as she leaned forward, bringing her face level with Sheppard's. "Colonel? Colonel Sheppard can you hear me? Can you tell me what happened?" One eye sluggishly looked at her, but he didn't say anything, just grunted in pain and shut his eye again “Okay, he’s out again. Did I see him kick out there?” She watched as one of the team tore his socks off and ran a needle up the sole of one foot. “Babinski’s absent.” She breathed a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about. Machines rolled over and took pictures and then the gurney went into a scanner.
Machines beeped, alarms pinged and numbers were called out. Throughout it all Doctor Keller kept pace with what the test results and Sheppard's body were telling her. The head CT was negative, and current indications seemed to rule out any spinal injury- he’d been darned lucky.
By now he'd also been de-pantsed and stuck with a Foley and a sheet thrown over for modesty. He’d get the luxury of a gown after surgery.
The C collar and back board was removed and his forearm examined. It turned out to be a deep but clean laceration that would need many stitches, but there was no nerve damage that she could detect so far. He was rolled to check his back and the gauzes gently lifted.
" Two wounds 4 cm L2 mid line and L5 mid scapula line!"
"Pulse ox is 93 doctor. Do you want to intubate?"
"No, stay at 10 litres for now."
A collecting bag hanging from the bottom of the gurney was lifted up for her to see.
"Bright red blood in the urine!"
"Dammit, renal lac! Push the Versed and let's get him into the OR stat!"
~*~
Some hours later the doctors and support staff finished. Doctor Keller tiredly pulled her OR gown off and stuffed it onto the waste bin. She pressed her hands into the small of her back and bent, trying to ease the ache.
She watched as the gurney was wheeled out into the recovery area, monitors still beeping and two nurses started checking the numbers and vitals on his chart. She would stay until he was ready to be extubated and was breathing on his own. Only then was she going out to face the waiting members of his team. Until she could be sure that Colonel Sheppard was going to be okay. They were still replacing blood and fluids, so he was in danger of see sawing or springing a leak somewhere, infection from the water- so many possibilities. It wasn’t over yet.
Another hour went by and she was ready to talk to the waiting group.
~*~
"What do you mean he's not in her notes?" Rodney glared at Major Lorne.
"I checked the list Doctor Keller printed out. Lawrence only went to mandated sessions, not all these other times he's talking about in his diary. We’ve interviewed his team mates and the sergeant. "
"What does this mean?" Teyla asked
"It means the guy was more Loony Tunes than anybody realised!" Rodney shouted.
"Hey, what's all this noise in my infirmary?" she asked
That stopped the disagreement between Major Lorne and Rodney and silence fell. All eyes turned to her.
"Colonel Sheppard is through the surgery and is in recovery. He's extubated and breathing well on his own. He's being closely monitored as we speak. He’s stable at the moment, but we’re still topping him up due to the blood loss and surgery. So it’s going to be a long night until I’m sure he’s turned the corner. He hasn't said anything to us about what happened and he's not likely to for a while yet. He's shown signs of movement and lucidity, so I can rule out any permanent spinal or head injury."
Everyone looked relieved.
"However, there was some kidney damage that has been repaired but the trauma will take some time to heal. We'll be keeping a close eye on him for continuing function and any leakage. His arm laceration will be painful but I don't expect any mobility issues apart from 30 odd stitches. His facial contusions will look really bad but will fade in time. He avoided damaging his left eye socket by a few centimetres. Once again it looks bad but will heal in time."
"He was in there a long time. Was there a problem?" Rodney asked.
"Actually yes, his sats dropped badly due to bleeding that took some time to fix as well as a liver laceration. That was minor compared to the kidney. But that organ can repair itself so I don't anticipate trouble. The kidney perfused well and is functioning. Like I said before, he will be alright. It's going to take some time and he's not going to be happy about it. I'm sure you'll all rally round in your usual quiet manner."
"Thank you Doctor Keller. Can we see him for a moment please?" Teyla asked.
She had expected this request.
"Yes, but only for a few minutes each and one at a time. Don't expect a response. You can touch his hand but avoid any ports and get out of the way if alarms go off so my team can look after him. Just a warning- he’s still a bit shocky."
"Rodney, you go first. You need to see he's okay." Major Lorne urged, Teyla and Ronon gently pushed him forwards.
~*~
Ask me how I am (Snow Patrol)
John:
John thought it was day three or four since he'd woken up. The drugs messed with his ability to track time. But he could guess by the bland food he's left and changing clothes of his visitors.
He's not going to get better by eating this mush. He wanted real food- colour and texture wasn't much to ask for- was it?
Everything hurt. The food was boring. Reading or using a laptop was out, until his eye had settled down and the constant headaches. Sitting up and even breathing was painful thanks to the bruised and cracked ribs. It was also the first day he could see properly out of both eyes
Today he walked a whole six steps and then they wheeled him round back to his bed. Yay.
Doctor Keller wasn't a sweet young thing he could charm, he discovered.
No sooner had he woken the first time than she stuck a tuning fork on his leg. Something to do with sensations in his legs. Whatever. The next day she tortured him by making him get up and stand for a minute. Didn't she know he'd just had major surgery? He hadn't passed out but it had been very close. Thank goodness for the solid support of Ronon and one of the male nurses.
So here he was on day three or four and he hadn't been able to get anyone to tell him what the hell was going on. He'd had the crap beaten out of him. He deserved an explanation at the very least.
Doctor Keller was still enforcing the bubble wrap routine. Don't worry or get the Colonel too excited, or anything. In case, what? He was going to run around the room in a panic or something?
He was still awake after the current round of oatmeal. Progress.
Rodney had left one of those number puzzle books. He could do that. Perhaps he should get Keller to sort out the AC later. Lying in bed all the time, he was hot and achy. He wanted a balcony to look out from.
Right.
Puzzle.
Boxes. Spaces...there was a three, and a one, so that meant a....He cracked a huge yawn and the pencil slipped out of his fingers unnoticed.
~*~
"Colonel Sheppard?” he didn't recognise the voice and figured he'd better find out.
"Hmmm?" he opened his eyes. Damnation, he'd lost time again judging by the dimmed lighting.
"Who are you?" he asked the uniformed man sitting next to him.
"Doctor Levine, your new psychologist."
"Oh. Hi. Sorry, I'm a bit fuzzy."
"That's quite alright. Perfectly understandable. I'm told you're making good progress."
"Yeah? More'n they tell me." He grumped. He cleared his throat. He was sweating and the doc passed over a water cup as he wiped his forehead. His headache was back. "Thanks. Can you tell me what happened, why...anything?"
"Colonel Sheppard, as far as we can tell, Lawrence did not present as PTSD. He kept everything internalised. His teammates are as confused and upset as everyone else. He's not psychotic or mad. Unfortunately he was so focussed on the idea of Doctor Heightmeyer helping him- which I am sure she would have if he'd actually gone to her. Things got confused. His hatred of the Wraith after his friend died and then your unfortunate evil persona in the dreams brought things to a head."
"So he's getting help, right? Is he salvageable?"
"Yes, he's at the SGC being assessed as we speak. Time will tell. I don't think he could come back here, but he has shown remorse, Colonel, now that he understands what happened."
"Well, okay then." John was a tad nonplussed. "Wait, he didn't hurt anybody else did he?"
"No. I'll leave you to your puzzle book. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"Yeah. Jus' ya, know..." he mumbled, his eyes slipping closed already. His back ached and throbbed. His arm itched.
It went quiet for a bit and the world blurred. The new psychologist disappeared and John didn't notice much of anything until the doctors came around and poked and prodded. He grumbled at them, but they wouldn’t go away.
He had some bad dreams after that- running down corridors filled with water and darkness tripping him up. He was pretty sure he upchucked over somebody, and there was a lot of talking and beeping noises. And then they wouldn't let him go for a walk when he tried. Six steps and everything.
When he next cracked open his eyes, Rodney was slumped asleep in a chair next to him, data pad balanced precariously on his knees. He looked crumpled. John felt bone tired and sticky. He would love a shower right now. He even felt hungry enough for the boring food.
A nurse appeared and promptly shoved a beaker of water and straw under his chin. He frowned at her. Why was she so cheerful? He felt like he'd been run over by a Puddlejumper. He sipped at the water until she pulled it away and retreated back beyond the curtain around his bed. Rodney had dozed through the entire thing.
"Hey McKay? What day is it?" John called out.
McKay jerked awake "Wha..? Oh my God, you're awake!"
"Yeeaah? What was your IQ again?" he drawled, confused.
"What day? Why do you want to know?"
"'Cause I'm still stuck in here, and I think I lost a day. D'ya think I can get a shower or something?"
"Sheppard, try four days. You lost four days. Post operative infection, maybe something in the water you were lying in. Happens all the time, but it wasn't fun for any of us watching it. I'll go and ask Keller."
"Hey, thanks buddy for sticking around. And thanks for looking for me, I remembered that from before. Lorne told me I think. Is that right or did I dream that?"
"No, I found you. But Lorne and Keller were right behind me, so...wasn't all me. Guess we can thank Carson for all those First Aid sessions, huh?"
"Yeah, he'd have been proud of you."
"Right, um, I'll go see about food, a cleanup and whatnot."
John rested, secure in the knowledge that he had a great team and was determined to get better as quickly as he could. He just needed another nap first though.
~*~
Ronon hovered nearby with the wheelchair as John shuffled his way down the corridor to the nearest balcony, pushing his IV pole containing the final round of antibiotics and fluids.
“Half an hour.” Ronon reminded him.
“Yeah, I know. Wouldn’t want to get a chill or something.” John whined.
“Sheppard!" said Ronon sharply.
"Sorry. I know, I know. It was awful for everybody and I wouldn’t want undo all the hard work. I'm not ungrateful, just...it hurts. Literally. I want to go for a walk but I can only manage this far before I need the damn wheelchair. It's going to be weeks before I'm back on active duty."
"You will get better. It takes time. Two days ago you were full of fever. Now here you are. In another two days you'll get to the next balcony for an hour..."
"I know you're right. It's just hard to see it from this side of things. I've crashed, been shot at, stunned, broken limbs, had nasty illnesses and rashes, but I don't think I've been stabbed before. It's a little personal, you know? I still feel bad that we missed what was happening to Lawrence. If he slipped through, who else are we failing?"
"You're only human, you can't see everyone's problems if they hide them. That's what Dr Heightmeyer was for. It was her job to help people- and she did. And so will Dr Levine. Let it go for now. Concentrate on getting better."
By now they'd reached the balcony and John inched forward and leant against the ledge. It was a nice day, sunny with a light breeze. Perfect. He breathed in the fresh air, savouring the feeling of sun on his face. His back ached and his knees threatened to wobble. He turned round as Ronon nudged the wheelchair closer. He settled into the chair and enjoyed his remaining minutes outside.
Okay, two days at a time he could manage that. No more Mr Grumpy.
~*~
A couple of days later Teyla and Ronon came o his room to collect him for PT only to find John and Rodney convulsed with hysterical laughter over a music video playing on Rodney’s laptop.
“Ha Ha HA! Klingons on the Starboard bow!!” John lay on his bed and quaked.
"It's worse than that, he's dead Jim!!" snorted Rodney doubled over in a chair.
The song looped round again, making John laugh again. “Ow! That hurts. I hope I still have all my stitches. Damn but I needed that. Thanks Rodney. I hadn’t seen that before."
"I thought you might enjoy it."
Looking up at Teyla and Ronon staring at them in confusion, John grinned "C'mon walk me to the gym and I'll try and explain Star Trek..."
END
* 'Every time it rains you're here in my head' Cloudbusting by Kate Bush
* The song is Star Trekkin by The Firm
prompt: Sheppard is unable to sleep. He first drops by CIC and then decides to check out spaces below Atlantis. A few hours later Rodney drops by Sheppard's quarters to see if he is ready for breakfast, there is no sign of Sheppard.
Author: roo1965
Recipient: Black_Raven135for Sheppard H/C LJ Winterfic 2013
Word Count: ~9,000
Rating: PG13
Warnings: none. Set around Doppelganger 4.4
Summary: Bad dreams affected more personnel than we saw. How they dealt with it depended on their situation, life experience and the support system of friends, colleagues and SGC medical protocols. What if Dr Heightmeyer was someone's coping mechanism? John's right to be worried about what his bad self did in dreamland....
Author Notes: Rodney, Sheppard, Keller POVs. Thanks to CoolBreeze1for the awesome beta.
Genre: Gen, Angst, H/C, did I mention whump?
Spoilers for: Sunday 3.17, Adrift 4.1, Lifeline 4.2, Reunion 4.3 and SG1 1.7 Cold Lazarus.
Also check out great Sheppard video by OBFreak- Somewhere a clock is ticking http://obfreak.parakaproductions.com/SomewhereaClockisTicking.avi
Bad Wolf
"I've got this feeling, there's something that I missed
(I could do most anything to you)
Don't you breathe, don't you breathe
(I could do most anything to you)
Something happened that I never understood
(I could do most anything to you)
You can't leave, you can't leave"
Somewhere a clock is ticking- Snow Patrol
Prologue
Entry 52
I’m prepared for this. Been to all the acclimatisation sessions, watched videos, talked to people that have been there. Gone through the weirdest training sessions. Learning some new stuff from a local- Ronon- his planet was trashed by the local bad guys. He’s some badass though.
Word has it the CO is good, a little unorthodox but worth watching- even if he is Air Force. I’ll just have to ensure the Pegasus USMC keeps its standards high. Oo-rah! My best bud Nick is here too, so it’s all cool.
Entry 72
Turns out being prepared is nothing like “being prepared”. How do you prepare for the truly unexpected? We try harder, train harder, be harder, fight easy.
Entry 104
I thought I’d be fine. The CO said I’d be fine, after that incident with the Wraith on PX34TX. Major Lorne said I could talk to him about it.
Even with plenty of firepower that thing kept on trucking. Freaky.
It had fed. Recently. Nick.
Jeez .I ran out of clips. Jenkins threw his blade. Major Lorne filled it with the rest of his ammo.
They lied - I’m not fine.
Dammit. Nick.
It’s not okay - seeing one of your best buddies turn into a shrivelled husk…and some of the civilians you’re supposed to be protecting.
How did Ronon evade them for seven years?
How did the CO ever survive one of those things feeding on him multiple times?
His ATA gene? Something in his blood?
Entry 137
What kind of a place is this where the Doc can get killed (explode?!) on base? That’s not good.
The Head Doc Heightmeyer will fit me in whenever I need to talk.
I will.
Maybe.
It’s not so much of a stigma in the ranks to visit the shrink as it used to be- but I’ll know.
So.
Don’t know.
Entry 160
Flying cities….WTF?
Everyone’s a little burnt out, too little sleep and too much adrenaline.
Lost in Space.
Haven’t slept properly for a coupla days now. Everyone looks so lost, shocked.
Of all the people we could lose, Dr Weir isn’t- wasn’t- one of them. I can’t believe she’s dead- gone. Replicated. Whatever.
How could Sheppard and Dr McKay let this happen? How could he leave her there with those things? Nobody is who they seem to be anymore.
I don’t like the Replicators, give me the creeps. But I hate the Wraith more.
Entry 170
I thought that maybe Col Carter would make everything better, less of the crazy. She’s seen loads of stuff on SG1. Don’t get me wrong- we all respect her like hell.
It’s just that the crazy keeps on happening. At least she gets right to the point and doesn’t agonise and talk about it for hours like Dr Weir used to before we got sent out.
We lost Ronon for a while. He went back to some old Satedan army buddies. Turned out they weren’t who he thought they were.
I could have told him that for free. Not sure who’s real all the time.
Maybe everything’ll be okay now he’s come back to stay for good.
He’s good at fighting the Wraith. That I can hang with.
I hate them. I kill as many as I can, when I can. I like seeing them die. It means they can't kill any more of our guys or civilians.
Entry 175
Heard from one of the nurses at lunch that Teyla dreamt about Colonel Sheppard all bug like trying to feed on her. Keller had to give out some Ambien. Disconcerting much?
I dozed off after stick practice and shower - and - dreamed the CO was after me, telling me how to kill wraith better, faster. How I could have saved Nick and everyone that we've lost since I've been deployed here. That I hesitated and had no back up clips. That I let Nick down. That others had to kill him for me. If only I hadn't lost my knife during the fighting that day. I fight Wraith in my sleep but they don't die.
Did I do my calming exercises today? I can’t remember. Tired.
Can’t sleep. Don't want to. It's like that song- Every time it rains you're here in my head....
Entry 176
Colonel Sheppard -he’s in my dream again.
Entry 177
Major Lorne had to be stunned. Pulling a weapon on your CO thinking he's a Replicator - not good. Lorne's definitely one of the good guys. Pretty sure.
Colonel Sheppard did go to the Replicator home world recently....
The Head Doc is dead. In her sleep. She listened to me.
Something bad happened in her dream.
Everyone’s spooked.
Even Dr McKay got visited by the big bad. Word has it that the thing almost killed him and then he went and helped the Colonel.
Is this real? Has it/he really gone?
Now do you believe me?
No way am I sleeping again.
Ever.
Command Channel says it’s okay.
Quarantine’s over.
We can come on out.
*~*
'When the scream subsides' (Ultravox)
John:
Nobody expected to sleep well after they returned from the planet with the creepy crystals growing on trees. They’d put the crystals back right where they found them, put a note in the database and had emphatically locked M3X -387 out of the dialling menu.
It was just going to take a little time to get over. Relatives to inform. A memorial service to hold for the Doctor before sending her back to the SGC and her family. People to calm and reassure.
Keller would probably end up prescribing a lot of Ambien over the next week or so. That would raise a nice red flag back at the SGC-‘We can’t cope right now so we need sleeping aids’. It wasn’t the first time certain drugs got flagged as ‘on the uptick’.
The impromptu gathering in the mess hall in the unsociable dawn hours reassured John that the others would still talk to him, even as they admitted that they were all Sleepless in Pegasus. There was still the widening of eyes and freezing of body posture when they first saw him sitting at the table, uncertain if he was going to do something to them. Personally- if he never saw a clown again he’d be happy. Rodney’s whale had been pretty scary too. God knows what the others had dreamt. He admitted it to himself: he was creeped out at what his bad self had made the others do or not do. Not a whole lot he could do about it though.
Life had to carry on for the living, heartless as it must seem to those close to the ones they had lost.
There were reports to write, evidence and data to be collected and filed for the SGC. General O’Neill had told him once that there was a whole filing cabinet labelled oddball and weird back in Cheyenne. John had laughed at the comment but O’Neill raised an eyebrow and threatened to show him, his eyes glinting steel for a second. Atlantis clearly needed its own cabinet.
John hadn’t read the SG1 report about the blue crystals and the Clone Colonel O’Neill. He’d gotten the gist from what Colonel Carter said, and he wasn’t sure he had the nerve for it now. The General’s clone had been trying to help, while his alter ego had preferred to feed on people’s fears. There were years of guilt ridden therapy waiting right there on that question alone, let alone the previous four in Pegasus, McMurdo and the rest of his service.
John declined Keller's offer of a medical panacea that evening and after a restless night, went for a very early long run on his own instead, missing Ronon’s morning thud on the door. Assuming that Ronon had called for him.
He was very tired and a little sore from being zapped backwards by the crystal on the planet, two days earlier and the defibrillator pads from the evening before, not to mention the mental wrangling of dreams and running around after people. Major Lorne had almost shot him for goodness sake. He was not in the best frame of mind to be thinking about tomorrow morning's senior staff meeting, but everyone else was going to be frayed too. It was too soon after losing Elizabeth and Ronon almost leaving to join his fellow Satedan’s.
They needed a new psychologist to replace Heightmeyer. The SGC promised to send someone ASAP.
In the meantime Keller was going to check Heightmeyer’s current notes here and talk to the SGC’s staff to see if there was anything or anyone who needed urgent attention.
Despite his own tussles with Kate in his mandatory sessions, she'd been a good doctor and hadn’t deserve to die like that. Scared and in her sleep. Alone. Teyla was upset. Keller was distressed and John felt guilty. How far had the wreckage of dreams gone? People were going to need counselling and support.
He headed over to the military command centre to rally the troops and talk to team leaders , urging them to be on the lookout for soldiers with issues with him or anything else stirred up by the bad dreams. He made his way to the office he shared with Lorne and the two of them had an awkward but good conversation about not aiming weapons at one's CO, since good XO's were hard to replace. After that, silence reigned in a good way as they got on with paperwork, interrupted at intervals by people with queries and requests. He discussed the city maintenance logs and No Go Areas with Major Lorne, wanting to keep on top of sweeping the city's still numerous unexplored areas.
He was deep into Jumper maintenance reports, pilot training schedules and armoury budgets when his radio chirped.
"Sheppard, go."
"Apparently it's lunchtime. I've just been rounded up and dragged out of the lab by Teyla. Get your skinny butt here, or she'll sic Ronon on you." Rodney sounded irritated, but that was because John knew how he sounded when head was full of numbers and he needed to eat.
"Really?" He looked at his watch.13.15. Major Lorne had left and he hadn't noticed and his last mug of coffee sat stone cold beside him; he’d forgotten to drink it. "Well, okay then. On my way. Sheppard out."
He couldn't fail to notice the skittish responses to his presence in the corridors and transporter as he made his way to the mess hall. Chatter paused noticeably as he made his way across the floor to the line up and grab a tray. ‘Wow, not awkward at all,’ he thought, picking up a biscuit to go with some purple and orange vegetable soup. He tried not to let it get to him as he ate. McKay was still burbling about his whale experience 'OMG '-complete with waving hands. Lunch was slightly subdued but good. Either that or they just wanted to see him in front of them while they knew they were awake. Time would tell later tonight as people headed off for bed. No problems had cropped up so far with earlier shifts that he was aware of.
Wisely, he pleaded paperwork and a meeting to beg off his usual sparring sessions with Teyla and Ronon. Not that he was overly paranoid, but he guessed he might come off worse than usual today or the next few days until the whole Bad Sheppard thing wore off a bit more for them. They could kick his ass pretty good any time he worked out with them; he didn’t want to give them added incentive. Heightmeyer would definitely have wanted to see him over his guilt issues. Mentally he shoved that away to the side. He’d deal with the new shrink when he or she arrived.
He finished off more paperwork, met with Colonel Carter and Doctor Keller again, and then went out to the pier for a relaxing think before going back in to get Rodney and the others for dinner.
He shuttled his team mates into one of the rec rooms and put on Back To The Future after dinner. It was non threatening and comforting as Rodney spluttered about flux capacitors and DeLoreans right on cue. Teyla and Ronon recognised the movie as a favourite and they watched, safe and together as the evening passed.
At 23.00 he and Rodney ambled back to their rooms. Rodney peeled off at his door with a mumbled goodnight, and John reached his room a few minutes later. He stopped inside, his eyes falling onto his small neatly made bed. He was achy and tired from being whammied and the lack of quality sleep. In truth, probably like the rest of Atlantis, he was wary of going to bed and trying to sleep. He answered some emails, pottered around and finally went to bed. After restlessly turning over for half an hour or more, he gave up and turned the lights back on and read for a while. He felt himself nodding off an hour or so later. His eyes burned as he squinted at the blurred pages. Finally the book slipped out of his hand, and the room darkened automatically.
Everyone's dead. You couldn't save them. All your fault. Ford, Beckett, Elizabeth. Bad Sheppard sneered at him, gloating as they fought in the Gate Room. You could have had a ZPM. But you lost it. The Genii are much better than you. Just give up now. Your Father was right. No stamina. You're not good enough for this. Look what you did to Michael - such a mess. Another enemy- and you have so many. Colonel Carter doesn't think much of you; she'll appoint someone else as Military Commander and send you to Earth demoted to Major, back to McMurdo or to the front line.
This time the Bad Sheppard threw him into the open Gate.
Gasping, John woke up flailing, as he fell out of bed with a muffled thud as he dragged the covers with him.
Jeez. Was that weird dreaming about himself? His body didn't think so judging by the sweat on his brow and pooling on his chest and arms. Uggh. Shakily he rolled over and stood up heading for the shower, stripping off his T-shirt as he went.
Clean and warm a few minutes later he wore his bath towel as he re- made his bed. He had to decide whether to get back in for a few hours or give up for the night. He checked his watch 04.37. More sleep than expected, he thought idly scratching his chin. He was awake now and decided to go for a walkabout and a run until it was time to meet Rodney for breakfast and prepare for senior staff meeting. Dressing in a T-shirt and sweatpants and running shoes, he left his room and headed for the Gate Room's control deck, checking in with the duty officer.
"Sergeant Lewis, any problems? Anything I should know about? Otherwise I'm going for a run."
"Colonel? Oh. wasn't expecting you this early. Patrols report a few more people out walking or in the gym or firing range than usual for early shift. But, you know..." Lewis shrugged tiredly.
John sighed ruefully. He knew.
"Oh, a few minor outages cropped up in sector Z10, sir. Door sensor not working. Maybe there's more damage down there from the attack. Henderson and Lawrence are on their way to check it out -for safety before sending in maintenance or engineers," Lewis added.
John tried to place the men but only had a vague impression. Mid to late twenties, been on Atlantis for over a year, maybe, not sure. Focused, intense, on SGA-7and one of them had an aptitude for hunting Wraith and drones. Both were good steady Marines.
"Okay. You know what? I’ll join them and see what’s up. On my way." John said, more of an order than a request. The Marines just "Yes, sir'd " him in his ears.
It was going to take half an hour or so to get to that lower level, even at a jog. It was prone to flooding since the attack and landing on the new home world, and navigating those corridors was a little tricky. But John needed the exercise, and after four years with McKay and Zelenka, he liked to think he knew a bit about control panels, glitching doors and sensors. No need to wake essential personnel if they'd managed to get some much needed sleep.
John ran along corridors and into the nearest transporter and then down to several more levels.
Z10 always smelt a bit funky. They couldn't get rid of the briny sea-weedy smell and the doors and sensors were constantly going offline or sparking a cascade to a nearby sector. There were still potentially useful storage rooms or labs down here though, and the scientists had been grumbling about more space lately.
As he jogged down the main corridor in Z10 John looked for signs of Henderson or Lawrence but he saw no-one. The lights throughout the corridor flickered on and off leaving various sectors dark.
As John rounded a corner at speed, he slid twisting an ankle, landing on his right side and slamming his wrist into the ground.
"Son of a ..." he grunted. He took a deep breath a pain sliced through him. After a minute, he decided he wasn't seriously injured and hobbled to his feet. He gingerly tested his mobility, wincing at the pang in his ankle as he moved away from the pool of water.
"Damned flooded wash rooms…" he griped.
Limping slowly over to a control panel on the wall he leaned over and popped the panel open. Before he could do anything else, he heard a noise behind him.
"Henderson? Lawrence? " he called out, straightening and beginning to turn.
Suddenly, someone grabbed his head and smashed it into the wall. Dazed, John fell against the wall, scraping his cheek against the control panel cover. He got an impression of uniform and boots as he was grabbed around the shoulders and thrown through an open doorway. His feet slid in the water again and he went over onto his back. His assailant landed on top of him a second later grabbed his head, slamming against the floor. Fingers scrabbled round his ear a second later and his comm was gone. John tried to get with the program. He heaved up and punched at the closest target, hitting someone's stomach. His fists hit Tac vest plate and he grimaced.
Stupid. Shoulda aimed for the throat, he thought and then more blows pounded him in the face and abdomen. He caught a glimpse of his attacked and frowned.
"Wha..? Lawrence? ”
Dammit, he wasn't in uniform. He had only his track pant, t shirt and his training, and he was at a severe disadvantage. But Lawrence hadn’t been alone down here. Henderson was with him. Would they both attack him?
"Hey! Henderson?” he called out, hoping only one Marine had gone crazy. “A little help here!" Lawrence’s weight disappeared and John immediately struggled upright and weaved to one side, dizzy and blood pooling in his eye.
He could hardly see straight and the move probably saved him as blue light arced into the dark and flashed off his right arm instead of his chest. The nerves went numb immediately and John stumbled.
What the hell? A stunner.
“Henderson's not here. Sent him back already.” yelled his attacker. "Only me." Lawrence rushed in again, and John saw him aim a Wraith hand stunner.
He spun and kicked out knocking the stunner from Lawrence’s hands. It clattered away into the dark and he moved in that direction, punching out with his left-hand. He took another hit to the ribs as Lawrence came at him with a savage yell.
John dropped to his knees, dodging most of Lawrence’s renewed attack, and saw an opportunity. The stunner lay just a half dozen feet away. He used Lawrence’s momentum to push him past him, then scuttled across the floor toward the stunner.
The blows had left him dazed and numb, and moving just a little bit slow. He wavered a moment too long , a sharp ache spreading through his back. It felt like he’d been punched or kicked twice in the back. Not good for his kidneys. Metal flashed in the corner of his eye and hot pain skimmed the forearm stretching out in front of him.
A knife?
He managed to jab an elbow backwards into a face , and Lawrence -now clammering on top of him to pull him away from the stunner-screeched. John felt hot blood splatter on his arm, but he wasn’t sure whether it was his or Lawrence’s. Both, maybe. John twisted, locking his legs with Lawrence’s and throwing the man off balance. They rolled, breathing harshly and panting as they struggled for possession of the knife. The stunner was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles out of reach. Above him, John heard mumbling about Wraith and not sleeping and things that weren’t real anymore and not dying.
“Lawrence, it’s Colonel Sheppard! Let me help you before it’s too late!”
“No! It will only end if ... I have to get this right, like you said. One more Wraith. ” Lawrence answered, his voice high-pitched and wild.
They rolled twice more, and then John felt the stunner underneath. With a surge of adrenaline, he kicked Lawrence back, grabbed the stunner, and fired straight at Lawrence’s chest one handed. Lawrence dropped like a sack of spuds, landing with a splat in a puddle of water, the knife dropping harmlessly to the ground.
John dropped the stunner and lay back, resting for a half a minute as he tried to catch his breath. Not wanting to wait too long, he groggily rolled over and stood up but then half bent over in pain. He staggered over to the Marine and knelt down again, fighting through the fiery pain spreading through his body. With one hand braced against the floor to keep himself upright, he searched for the zipties in Lawrence’s vest pocket. When he had one, he pushed the Marine onto his side, gathered his hands behind him, and clumsily put one on.
His breathing hitched in pain as he bent over. Blood dripped down his face, and swelling had reduced his vision to one eye. The adrenaline crash was setting in, now that the threat had lessened. Befuddled, he tried to remember how long the stunner incapacitated. Forty minutes, an hour? Couldn't remember. Dear Lord, his face and head throbbed, and his back hurt.
Groaning he reached round to rub his lower back and stared dumbly at the red blood coating his left hand. This was bad. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so good. Sweat popped out across his body, and he panted for breath. Dizzy, he found himself back on his hand and knees. He needed to stay awake. He needed Lawrence’s comm. He needed help.
The pain was too deep and heavy, and he slumped to the floor. He lost time- minutes, maybe? It was damp, and he shivered. His face and hand were wet. His right arm was still numb and useless. He tried to reach round and keep pressure on his back, feeling warmth run over his fingers, but the position was awkward and caused more pain to his ribs.
He had to move, get help. Abandoning the wound, he doggedly dragged himself along the floor making for the wall. Slowly he managed to sit upright. He glared back at the unconscious Lawrence as he did so. That would teach him for stealing a Wraith stunner.
Darkness edged in from all sides as John tried to slide and push himself up the smooth surface of the wall. If he could stay vertical long enough to reach the main corridor or even a transporter he could get help. The com! That’s what he needed to get. And bandages!
He managed a few feet before he fell, sprawling loose limbed on his left side. He noticed blood pooling and running into the puddle, a red stain spreading out around him, and then he passed out.
~*~
0600
Rodney was not normally up and awake at this time unless he’d pulled an all-nighter and was off to bed. But like everyone else last night, he’d slept a bit and woken, trying not to dream of whales and Evil Sheppard being all smug and taunting. His chest felt bruised from the defibrillator pads. But he supposed it had all been worth it to be rid of the crystal entity.
He was sure Sheppard would be up as well so breakfast would be super early today. A memory of Sheppard lying lifeless on the bed next to him flit through his mind and he shivered. That had been the second time he’d seen Sheppard shocked back to life. He shook his head, forcing the memory away. He could tease him about the lack of surfing beauties in Evil Sheppard Land instead.
“Sheppard? I’m awake so we might as well have breakfast. Yes, I know, Ha Ha it’s before six thirty am, wonders will never cease and all that," he called out on his radio.
Silence. There was no answering drawl or comment. Maybe Sheppard was in the shower.
He decided to try again in a bit.
First he needed coffee. He wandered along the corridor almost past John’s door when he decided to stop and knock. He waited, straining to hear movement on the other side, but he heard no sounds and got no reply. With barely a second’s hesitation, he overrode the panel and went in. The bathroom mirror was still steamy and the bed was made. Sheppard was definitely up, then.
“Ronon? Is Sheppard with you?” he asked, tapping his radio earpiece again
“ No, he was gone when I went by over half an hour ago,” Ronon replied instantly "Missed him yesterday too. I haven’t seen him on my run. Figured we’d meet up later at breakfast.”
Rodney tried Sheppard again, worry niggling at him. It was unusual for Sheppard to ignore any hail on the comm. Even if he was in the mess hall already.
“Colonel Sheppard? Come in?”
Another voice butted in "Doctor McKay, this Sergeant Lewis on the control deck. Colonel Sheppard left to catch up with a patrol team to check out section Z10, but none of them have checked back here in the last 40 minutes.”
Rodney didn’t like the sound of it. Trouble magnet, that’s what Sheppard was. How he ever made it through college and flight school- let alone daily life on Atlantis, he didn’t know. Rodney was already moving down the corridor his brain busy working out the quickest way to Z10.
“Check the scans for SubQ’s in the area. See if they are still there.”
“There are two in the right area. There should be three- I sent Henderson and Lawrence earlier. The Colonel said he’d jog toward them to secure the area and help out with glitchy panels and stuff before we sent out technicians or engineers.”
Rodney was already in the first transporter. “Call Major Lorne for a second team and alert the infirmary for whoever’s on call. We may need medical help.”
“Uh...” Lewis stuttered. “Why would they need med-”
“Because this is Sheppard we’re talking about,” he interrupted. “And he wouldn’t ignore me if there wasn’t something bad going on. I have a gut feeling he’s in trouble, and since I’m a genius, I would listen to my gut feelings and do what I say,” he snapped.
He hated running and any form of exercise, but four years of running away from angry Wraith and Genii had improved his stamina. While he couldn’t and didn’t want to compete with Sheppard and Ronon’s daily runs, he could jog along the long corridors faster than he used to.
Today he was glad for the extra stamina. He tried Sheppard on the radio again, then Henderson and Lawrence, with no answer. The bad feeling in his gut got worse.
Lorne’s voice sounded in Rodney’s ear. “McKay? I located Henderson. He says he finished his patrol at 0530 as usual and headed back to his room before Colonel Sheppard reached them. Lawrence said he’d wait for the Colonel in case Sheppard wanted to check out the glitchy lights anyway.”
“He left him alone down there?” Rodney asked, incredulous. An image of a whale floated through his mind and he shook his head, banishing the thought.
“Lawrence insisted on waiting in Z10. Henderson's a newbie, and Lawrence has been here longer, so Henderson figured it was okay."
“With everything that’s been going on, I’m sure he wouldn’t want either one of them wandering around down there alone! It’s against protocol!” Rodney persisted.
“I’m inclined to agree with you, but let's hope we're all mistaken." Rodney could hear Lorne’s rushed words and the sound of boots clomping as he and his unit made for Z10.
“Major, is the Colonel armed or what?”
“Henderson didn’t see him.”
"Control here,” Lewis interrupted. “No, Doctor McKay, he wasn’t. He looked like he was going for a run when I told him about the glitching log.”
“Dammit!” Rodney didn’t have his gun either.
"Hang on, Doctor, Major! I’m pulling the environmental logs from down there, and it looks like there was some weapon activity half an hour ago."
“Sergeant, what kind of weapons fire? P90 or 9 mil?” asked Lorne.
“Wraith hand stunner!”
“What?!” shouted Rodney and Lorne together over the comm link. Why would one of them have the stubby handguns? Either they knew something no-one else did, or one of them was having a bad day.
"McKay, wait until we get there!" Lorne ordered.
"I'll try!" Rodney didn't want to get hurt either, but now he knew Sheppard was in trouble.
Adrenaline pumped hard through Rodney’s body as he skidded round the last corridor causing his heart to thud madly. He slowed down. The last of the corridor light cast shadows and deeper darkness ahead. He couldn’t tell if the darker patches were other corridors or doorways into rooms. Z10 often had trouble with bathroom malfunctions, so water was likely an issue too.
“Lawrence? Sheppard?”
Silence.
He rounded a corner and his feet squished in liquid. He glanced down at his toes then jerked his head up again. The sight of two slumped bodies in the room next to him galvanised him into action He quickly checked for any trailing wires or sparks, but there was nothing. Electrocution threat eliminated.
“Lorne. They're both here unconscious. Checking them now.”
Where was the stunner? Was Lawrence dead?
“Medical alert stat to Z10 corridor 3. Two casualties.” Rodney called out. He needed help.
Rodney approached Lawrence slowly, knowing Lorne was still several minutes behind him, but relaxed when he saw the zip-tied hands. He checked Lawrence's pulse anyway, and sighed in relief. Okay, alive. He had some contusions and there was blood on his hands but nothing seemed life threatening. Rodney glanced around but still couldn't see the stunner.
He moved towards Sheppard next, his shoes squelching through the water and knelt down next to Sheppard . The Colonel was lying on his left side, his left arm outstretched . What was he wearing? Some weird patterned light and dark T-shirt Rodney didn’t remember seeing before. But it's not like he should know all of Sheppard's T-shirts. He pushed the random thought to one side as he felt for Sheppard's pulse and felt his heart ramp up again.
“Sheppard!" he called out. He checked Sheppard's body for injuries, then jerked his own hands away in horror as he realised that the blotchy dark colour on Sheppard's torso was blood. Sheppard's face was also covered in blood, contusions marring his cheek and forehead, one eye swollen closed Blood pooled into the light of the corridor , and Rodney searched for its source. “Dammit!” he bit out, spotting the slash on Sheppard’s arm. Rodney grabbed it and pressed his palm against it watching the blood slow to a trickle.
He had other wounds. Rodney was sure of it. Think dammit he thought. Sheppard's airway was open in case he vomited and he was already lying on his side. He was breathing. Circulation -there was blood loss- which needed to be stopped so Sheppard wouldn't go into shock before the medics arrived.
He tapped his comm and yelled for help again. “Lawrence’s is out stunned and restrained. Sheppard...Oh God, Sheppard’s bad. I need a Medic, Doctor Keller, somebody! There’s blood everywhere. He's been stabbed, maybe stunned too.”
Reluctantly he let go of Sheppard's arm for a few seconds and ran over to Lawrence’s vest. He grabbed the bandages from a pocket and was ripping open and unrolling the first one as he heard boots thunder down the corridor. Lorne appeared, scanning the room for half a second before waving two of his men over to Lawrence to stand guard. He ordered the third man to find the stunner and knife, and then he knelt on the other side of Sheppard. The extra hands helped tug and tie the bandage round Sheppard’s arm and then secure one round his torso.
“Sheppard, wake up. Come on!” Rodney yelled.
He pressed hard against the bandage on Sheppard's arm. P90 lights bounced around making everything nightmarish. Lorne braced Sheppard’s neck and back keeping them straight. It was lucky Sheppard had fallen over onto his side and not face down in the water.
“Can’t we move him out of the water at least?” Rodney asked.
“Not until we can get a C collar and back board on him." a medic called out, darting into the room. He ripped open his bag and dug out more bandages adding them to the one's Rodney and Lorne had applied to Sheppard's back. Rodney gulped, noticing for the first time that there were two wounds in his back not one. He felt sick.
“Has he said anything, woken at all?” the medic asked.
“No!”
“Infirmary, be advised he's non responsive to sound. Two wounds to the back, facial contusions, deep laceration to the left forearm. Possible concussion and neck trauma ” Lorne’s medic kept a hand on Sheppard's pulse as he spoke into his comm to the medical team.
More feet pounded down the corridor at last, along with the welcome sounds of the rattling gurneys.
Doctor Keller appeared a second later and Rodney breathed a sigh of relief as she took in the scene. She directed one team to the stunned Lawrence and moved immediately to Sheppard, taking off her stethoscope and shoving it against Sheppard's T shirt. Seconds later she peeled back his eyelids and shined her penlight into his eyes.
"Pupils round and sluggish, reactive to light. Excessive oedema to the left orbital. We're going to need the scanner. Make sure they've got plenty of O Neg and the rapid infuser ready." Keller ordered into her radio
Rodney watched in silence as one of the nurses attached a BP cuff to Sheppard's nearest arm, unable to move. Scissors appeared and the T- shirt was lifted out of the way, his dog-tags slid to one side and pooling into the water. Sheppard's ribs were palpated and Keller listened to his lungs and then sticky pads went onto the chest and beeps sounded on the monitor.
"Guarding and tenderness to the chest. Three ribs on the left a bit crunchy. Good breath sounds bilaterally, but keep let’s keep an eye out for tension pneumo or haemothorax. "
Rodney hoped that meant no ribs into the lungs.
“You can let go now Rodney, we’ve got this,” she said gently. He was still gripping the bandage round Sheppard’s arm. He let go.
Things happened all at once in a well worn choreographed manoeuvre. A rigid plastic C- Collar went round Sheppard's neck. A back board suddenly appeared behind him, and before they rolled him onto it Doctor Keller lifted up the corners of the bandage and gauze and pressed gently along his spine. A portable O2 cylinder clunked onto the floor and a mask was strapped to his face.
"Do you think his spine's damaged?" Lorne asked, worried.
"I can't be sure without pulling the bandages away and re-starting the bleeding.. There's the possibility of kidney, liver or bowel injuries. I don't know how deep these wounds are."
There was no response from Sheppard throughout. Rodney didn't want him to be in pain, but the silence was un-nerving. Small puffs of air fogged the mask, much to Rodney's relief.
Sheppard was log rolled onto the back board and his head taped in position. A saline IV was already feeding into his arm and the O2 bottle and monitor were tucked by his feet. Rodney finally stepped back and Lorne and the medical team slowly and gently lifted Sheppard onto the gurney As soon as he was secure they took off.
Rodney stood up slowly. Sheppard’s discarded T-shirt lay soggy and crumpled on the floor. The other gurney and guards with Lawrence had gone as well. When had that happened? He hadn't even noticed.
He walked down the corridor his pants, shirt and hands wet with water and smeared with blood. When someone touched his arm he startled and looked up. It was one of Lorne's men.
"C'mon Doc. The Major says I have to get you back in one piece." Rodney nodded numbly and followed him on auto pilot.
~*~
By the time he made it to the Infirmary, Teyla and Ronon had arrived. How could he have forgotten them? But they didn't tell him off. Their eyes widened and they looked shocked as he wandered in. Teyla came over and led him to a seat while Ronon hovered further in trying to see what was happening.
"Rodney! Are you alright?"
"Yes! No! Sheppard's...." he didn't know what he was trying to say. He felt hot and cold at the same time and he shivered. Suddenly a warm blanket was thrown round his shoulders.
"Doctor McKay, are you hurt at all? Is any of this yours?" a nurse asked. Teyla shook her head answering for him.
“Have something to drink. Here are some clean scrubs if you want to change or clean up here. We'll tell you any information when we have it." The mug of sweet tea (didn’t they know he hated tea?) trembled in his hand but he sipped at it. Teyla sat next to him the whole time. They didn't speak until he'd done with the tea, then she gently urged him towards the clean up area.
~*~
Keller:
In the trauma station it was organised chaos as Sheppard's gurney was wheeled and locked into place. New machines arrived and were plugged in to take over from the portable ones. A bag of blood appeared and a pulse-ox was clipped to his finger adding to the beeps and digital readouts.
"Okay, CBC, dip his urine. Get a sub-clavian going and squeeze that O Neg in there! Let's get those scans and films people! How’s his BP? Pulse 120… Lets...." Keller was interrupted by a choking noise and jerky movement from Colonel Sheppard.
"Look out, he's vomiting! Roll him! Watch for aspiration. " She ordered as she leaned forward, bringing her face level with Sheppard's. "Colonel? Colonel Sheppard can you hear me? Can you tell me what happened?" One eye sluggishly looked at her, but he didn't say anything, just grunted in pain and shut his eye again “Okay, he’s out again. Did I see him kick out there?” She watched as one of the team tore his socks off and ran a needle up the sole of one foot. “Babinski’s absent.” She breathed a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about. Machines rolled over and took pictures and then the gurney went into a scanner.
Machines beeped, alarms pinged and numbers were called out. Throughout it all Doctor Keller kept pace with what the test results and Sheppard's body were telling her. The head CT was negative, and current indications seemed to rule out any spinal injury- he’d been darned lucky.
By now he'd also been de-pantsed and stuck with a Foley and a sheet thrown over for modesty. He’d get the luxury of a gown after surgery.
The C collar and back board was removed and his forearm examined. It turned out to be a deep but clean laceration that would need many stitches, but there was no nerve damage that she could detect so far. He was rolled to check his back and the gauzes gently lifted.
" Two wounds 4 cm L2 mid line and L5 mid scapula line!"
"Pulse ox is 93 doctor. Do you want to intubate?"
"No, stay at 10 litres for now."
A collecting bag hanging from the bottom of the gurney was lifted up for her to see.
"Bright red blood in the urine!"
"Dammit, renal lac! Push the Versed and let's get him into the OR stat!"
~*~
Some hours later the doctors and support staff finished. Doctor Keller tiredly pulled her OR gown off and stuffed it onto the waste bin. She pressed her hands into the small of her back and bent, trying to ease the ache.
She watched as the gurney was wheeled out into the recovery area, monitors still beeping and two nurses started checking the numbers and vitals on his chart. She would stay until he was ready to be extubated and was breathing on his own. Only then was she going out to face the waiting members of his team. Until she could be sure that Colonel Sheppard was going to be okay. They were still replacing blood and fluids, so he was in danger of see sawing or springing a leak somewhere, infection from the water- so many possibilities. It wasn’t over yet.
Another hour went by and she was ready to talk to the waiting group.
~*~
"What do you mean he's not in her notes?" Rodney glared at Major Lorne.
"I checked the list Doctor Keller printed out. Lawrence only went to mandated sessions, not all these other times he's talking about in his diary. We’ve interviewed his team mates and the sergeant. "
"What does this mean?" Teyla asked
"It means the guy was more Loony Tunes than anybody realised!" Rodney shouted.
"Hey, what's all this noise in my infirmary?" she asked
That stopped the disagreement between Major Lorne and Rodney and silence fell. All eyes turned to her.
"Colonel Sheppard is through the surgery and is in recovery. He's extubated and breathing well on his own. He's being closely monitored as we speak. He’s stable at the moment, but we’re still topping him up due to the blood loss and surgery. So it’s going to be a long night until I’m sure he’s turned the corner. He hasn't said anything to us about what happened and he's not likely to for a while yet. He's shown signs of movement and lucidity, so I can rule out any permanent spinal or head injury."
Everyone looked relieved.
"However, there was some kidney damage that has been repaired but the trauma will take some time to heal. We'll be keeping a close eye on him for continuing function and any leakage. His arm laceration will be painful but I don't expect any mobility issues apart from 30 odd stitches. His facial contusions will look really bad but will fade in time. He avoided damaging his left eye socket by a few centimetres. Once again it looks bad but will heal in time."
"He was in there a long time. Was there a problem?" Rodney asked.
"Actually yes, his sats dropped badly due to bleeding that took some time to fix as well as a liver laceration. That was minor compared to the kidney. But that organ can repair itself so I don't anticipate trouble. The kidney perfused well and is functioning. Like I said before, he will be alright. It's going to take some time and he's not going to be happy about it. I'm sure you'll all rally round in your usual quiet manner."
"Thank you Doctor Keller. Can we see him for a moment please?" Teyla asked.
She had expected this request.
"Yes, but only for a few minutes each and one at a time. Don't expect a response. You can touch his hand but avoid any ports and get out of the way if alarms go off so my team can look after him. Just a warning- he’s still a bit shocky."
"Rodney, you go first. You need to see he's okay." Major Lorne urged, Teyla and Ronon gently pushed him forwards.
~*~
Ask me how I am (Snow Patrol)
John:
John thought it was day three or four since he'd woken up. The drugs messed with his ability to track time. But he could guess by the bland food he's left and changing clothes of his visitors.
He's not going to get better by eating this mush. He wanted real food- colour and texture wasn't much to ask for- was it?
Everything hurt. The food was boring. Reading or using a laptop was out, until his eye had settled down and the constant headaches. Sitting up and even breathing was painful thanks to the bruised and cracked ribs. It was also the first day he could see properly out of both eyes
Today he walked a whole six steps and then they wheeled him round back to his bed. Yay.
Doctor Keller wasn't a sweet young thing he could charm, he discovered.
No sooner had he woken the first time than she stuck a tuning fork on his leg. Something to do with sensations in his legs. Whatever. The next day she tortured him by making him get up and stand for a minute. Didn't she know he'd just had major surgery? He hadn't passed out but it had been very close. Thank goodness for the solid support of Ronon and one of the male nurses.
So here he was on day three or four and he hadn't been able to get anyone to tell him what the hell was going on. He'd had the crap beaten out of him. He deserved an explanation at the very least.
Doctor Keller was still enforcing the bubble wrap routine. Don't worry or get the Colonel too excited, or anything. In case, what? He was going to run around the room in a panic or something?
He was still awake after the current round of oatmeal. Progress.
Rodney had left one of those number puzzle books. He could do that. Perhaps he should get Keller to sort out the AC later. Lying in bed all the time, he was hot and achy. He wanted a balcony to look out from.
Right.
Puzzle.
Boxes. Spaces...there was a three, and a one, so that meant a....He cracked a huge yawn and the pencil slipped out of his fingers unnoticed.
~*~
"Colonel Sheppard?” he didn't recognise the voice and figured he'd better find out.
"Hmmm?" he opened his eyes. Damnation, he'd lost time again judging by the dimmed lighting.
"Who are you?" he asked the uniformed man sitting next to him.
"Doctor Levine, your new psychologist."
"Oh. Hi. Sorry, I'm a bit fuzzy."
"That's quite alright. Perfectly understandable. I'm told you're making good progress."
"Yeah? More'n they tell me." He grumped. He cleared his throat. He was sweating and the doc passed over a water cup as he wiped his forehead. His headache was back. "Thanks. Can you tell me what happened, why...anything?"
"Colonel Sheppard, as far as we can tell, Lawrence did not present as PTSD. He kept everything internalised. His teammates are as confused and upset as everyone else. He's not psychotic or mad. Unfortunately he was so focussed on the idea of Doctor Heightmeyer helping him- which I am sure she would have if he'd actually gone to her. Things got confused. His hatred of the Wraith after his friend died and then your unfortunate evil persona in the dreams brought things to a head."
"So he's getting help, right? Is he salvageable?"
"Yes, he's at the SGC being assessed as we speak. Time will tell. I don't think he could come back here, but he has shown remorse, Colonel, now that he understands what happened."
"Well, okay then." John was a tad nonplussed. "Wait, he didn't hurt anybody else did he?"
"No. I'll leave you to your puzzle book. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"Yeah. Jus' ya, know..." he mumbled, his eyes slipping closed already. His back ached and throbbed. His arm itched.
It went quiet for a bit and the world blurred. The new psychologist disappeared and John didn't notice much of anything until the doctors came around and poked and prodded. He grumbled at them, but they wouldn’t go away.
He had some bad dreams after that- running down corridors filled with water and darkness tripping him up. He was pretty sure he upchucked over somebody, and there was a lot of talking and beeping noises. And then they wouldn't let him go for a walk when he tried. Six steps and everything.
When he next cracked open his eyes, Rodney was slumped asleep in a chair next to him, data pad balanced precariously on his knees. He looked crumpled. John felt bone tired and sticky. He would love a shower right now. He even felt hungry enough for the boring food.
A nurse appeared and promptly shoved a beaker of water and straw under his chin. He frowned at her. Why was she so cheerful? He felt like he'd been run over by a Puddlejumper. He sipped at the water until she pulled it away and retreated back beyond the curtain around his bed. Rodney had dozed through the entire thing.
"Hey McKay? What day is it?" John called out.
McKay jerked awake "Wha..? Oh my God, you're awake!"
"Yeeaah? What was your IQ again?" he drawled, confused.
"What day? Why do you want to know?"
"'Cause I'm still stuck in here, and I think I lost a day. D'ya think I can get a shower or something?"
"Sheppard, try four days. You lost four days. Post operative infection, maybe something in the water you were lying in. Happens all the time, but it wasn't fun for any of us watching it. I'll go and ask Keller."
"Hey, thanks buddy for sticking around. And thanks for looking for me, I remembered that from before. Lorne told me I think. Is that right or did I dream that?"
"No, I found you. But Lorne and Keller were right behind me, so...wasn't all me. Guess we can thank Carson for all those First Aid sessions, huh?"
"Yeah, he'd have been proud of you."
"Right, um, I'll go see about food, a cleanup and whatnot."
John rested, secure in the knowledge that he had a great team and was determined to get better as quickly as he could. He just needed another nap first though.
~*~
Ronon hovered nearby with the wheelchair as John shuffled his way down the corridor to the nearest balcony, pushing his IV pole containing the final round of antibiotics and fluids.
“Half an hour.” Ronon reminded him.
“Yeah, I know. Wouldn’t want to get a chill or something.” John whined.
“Sheppard!" said Ronon sharply.
"Sorry. I know, I know. It was awful for everybody and I wouldn’t want undo all the hard work. I'm not ungrateful, just...it hurts. Literally. I want to go for a walk but I can only manage this far before I need the damn wheelchair. It's going to be weeks before I'm back on active duty."
"You will get better. It takes time. Two days ago you were full of fever. Now here you are. In another two days you'll get to the next balcony for an hour..."
"I know you're right. It's just hard to see it from this side of things. I've crashed, been shot at, stunned, broken limbs, had nasty illnesses and rashes, but I don't think I've been stabbed before. It's a little personal, you know? I still feel bad that we missed what was happening to Lawrence. If he slipped through, who else are we failing?"
"You're only human, you can't see everyone's problems if they hide them. That's what Dr Heightmeyer was for. It was her job to help people- and she did. And so will Dr Levine. Let it go for now. Concentrate on getting better."
By now they'd reached the balcony and John inched forward and leant against the ledge. It was a nice day, sunny with a light breeze. Perfect. He breathed in the fresh air, savouring the feeling of sun on his face. His back ached and his knees threatened to wobble. He turned round as Ronon nudged the wheelchair closer. He settled into the chair and enjoyed his remaining minutes outside.
Okay, two days at a time he could manage that. No more Mr Grumpy.
~*~
A couple of days later Teyla and Ronon came o his room to collect him for PT only to find John and Rodney convulsed with hysterical laughter over a music video playing on Rodney’s laptop.
“Ha Ha HA! Klingons on the Starboard bow!!” John lay on his bed and quaked.
"It's worse than that, he's dead Jim!!" snorted Rodney doubled over in a chair.
The song looped round again, making John laugh again. “Ow! That hurts. I hope I still have all my stitches. Damn but I needed that. Thanks Rodney. I hadn’t seen that before."
"I thought you might enjoy it."
Looking up at Teyla and Ronon staring at them in confusion, John grinned "C'mon walk me to the gym and I'll try and explain Star Trek..."
END
* 'Every time it rains you're here in my head' Cloudbusting by Kate Bush
* The song is Star Trekkin by The Firm
prompt: Sheppard is unable to sleep. He first drops by CIC and then decides to check out spaces below Atlantis. A few hours later Rodney drops by Sheppard's quarters to see if he is ready for breakfast, there is no sign of Sheppard.