The isle is full of noises - Shep HC Secret Santa 2012
******
Something was over his face, he bucked hard. He couldn’t get away. Breathing fast, his chest heaved as he battled. Sweat trickled down his face.
Alien. Aliens…..oh God….he tried to pull off the thing covering his nose and mouth.
The wraith grinned and reached forward but instead of aiming for his chest to feed, went low for his belly. He yelled in pain and tried to roll away. Hive tendrils grabbed at his arms and legs holding him down- he fought back.
"Colonel? Colonel Sheppard! Calm down and wake up for me!"
There was no mistaking that accent. What was Carson doing on a Hive ship?
Disorientated, buzzing with pain endorphins and slick with sweat he opened his eyes and looked straight into Carson’s worried face instead of a Wraith. Huh?
"You’re alright. Slow down! Breathe! Stop fighting everyone!" the doctor said.
Machines beeped a fast tattoo in the background. He frowned, still not quite with it. The beeping gradually slowed and nurses let go of his arms and legs, eyeing him warily as Beckett checked his IV and pulse ox clip on his finger.
Atlantis. He was in Atlantis. The thing on his face was an oxygen mask.
He shivered, trying to gather energy to say something as Ronon appeared in the infirmary, his fast lope reaching his bedside in moments.
"What happened? I wasn't gone long!" Ronon asked looking worried.
"His temperature spiked. Dreams or nightmares were making him hyperventilate." Carson replied, checking the monitors.
"Did we get him?”John asked, muzzy headed and his guts throbbing nastily. He shot out a hand and grabbed Carson’s nearest arm tight pulling him down towards him.
"Did we get who?" Carson asked, staring at his patient’s flushed face whilst gently untangling John's hot hand.
"Michael." John gritted out behind the mask.
"No, he got away- remember? You got Teyla back, she’s alright. And so’s her wee baby. Everything's alright."
"But there was a thing… a wraith… was here." He insisted. Hadn’t there been? There was danger, didn't they realise it?
"You’re ill, Sheppard. Calm down and rest. There is no wraith, everyone is fine. Keller is fine too." Ronon reassured him.
John surged up in bed - that was the danger they were all in, the thing…taking over Keller…. "Ow!" he grimaced and slumped back into the pillow.
Carson and his team worked expertly round John, removing the oxygen mask and wiping his sweaty face with a cool cloth, adding meds to his IV, and updating his medical chart. Ronon's gaze focused on John, managing to distract him from Carson checking his newest gut wound.
Ronon wouldn’t lie to him.
"Sure? It didn’t get Keller? You?" John sounded unsure, and tried to point at the bruising round Ronon’s neck. But he was fading fast, his body exhausted from fever and fighting the medical staff, his eyes already drooping shut. The darkness pulled him under as he heard Ronon say "There are no Wraith...."
******
"There are no Wraith. Keller is in quarantine. I’ll be okay. Zelenka is fine. You’re the one not fine Sheppard!” Ronon repeated, his voice gradually going more hoarse and croaky.
There was no response, the Colonel was asleep again.
"Doc?" Ronon queried.
"He’s a wee bit confused. It’s to be expected after surgery and the anaesthesia. Perhaps he's having a reaction to the Hive tendril too. We’re doing everything we can, you know that and...." Carson was cut off by Rodney appearing and talking nineteen to the dozen as he came through the doors, still clutching a work tablet.
"Zelenka said you ran out of the mess hall! You couldn't tell me something was wrong?! Is he worse? WHAT is going on- oh my God he looks awful!"
"Rodney, pipe down. It all happened very fast. We're getting it under control. I gather it’s only been a month since the building explosion and collapse you were all in. He'd barely recovered from that injury and now this happens." Carson interjected before Rodney could rant louder and longer.
“Been pushing himself too hard to get back on full duty and go off world looking for Michael.” Ronon muttered.
“Well, blame the SGC or more likely the IOA for removing Colonel Carter like that. No warning and in blatant disregard of changeover protocols.” groused Rodney. “Of course he wasn’t just going to lie there quietly with a horrific wound and do nothing when we were all pitching in keeping Atlantis going!”
"Okay- enough now. He needs rest. My staff will be checking on him while I’ve got to report to Mr Woolsey. Ronon - how’s your throat? Any problems swallowing? Rash?" Beckett turned to talk to Rodney and Ronon and motioned them away from the Colonel's bedside, so he could sleep undisturbed.
"I’m eating okay- kitchen made some slushy stuff.”
"Good, I put in a request especially for you. You can also use a cold compress to reduce the inflammation. Rodney, how was Radek? I thought I told him to stay out of the lab for a couple of days." Carson fussed, looking a little frazzled round the edges.
"I didn’t see him- he was in the mess hall and saw Ronon run out and radioed me. Ronon should go back to his lunch. I'll, uhm, stay for a bit. Jennifer's in quarantine anyway." Rodney offered, suddenly remembering that Carson must be tired too. He'd just come out of stasis, been injected with a wraith serum and propelled straight into several medical crises.
Pretty much any Thursday in the Pegasus Galaxy, Rodney mused, sidetracked for a second.
Rodney sat down in the plastic chair next to Sheppard's bed as Ronon departed.
Carson left orders to be contacted for any emergency relating to Dr Keller and the Colonel and to allow the use of a cooling blanket if the Colonel's temperature rose a degree or two more. The doctor left to see Mr Woolsey.
As Rodney opened up his latest schematics and equations on his tablet, he had a flash of déjà vu. Carson was right it had been only a month or so since he'd last sat by Sheppard's bed doing exactly this as he recovered from the building collapse and Teyla’s rescue.
He peered at the Colonel. All quiet for now although he still looked too warm. At least he hadn't thrown up on him this time.* Still, it was early days yet. Maybe it would be Teyla or Ronon next time.
That reminded him, he clicked his radio to contact Teyla and tell her the latest about Sheppard. She'd want to know how he was doing, even if she was stuck in her room with a crying baby (that he'd delivered!) and diapers.
******
By the time John woke up less fuzzy and more rational, he discovered that another day had passed. He hated being so out of it and lethargic. His whole body ached and his midsection was very sore. He was propped up in bed waiting on Carson's latest verdict. His eyes began to close and he felt himself listing to one side when Beckett's throat clearing jerked him awake.
"Why'm I so damn tired, doc?"
"Well, not only is this the second major abdominal surgery you've had in five weeks- which would be more than enough for most people. But you also crashed a jumper into the Tower and had an experimental drug that made you seize and require CPR. So forgive your body for feeling a little battered and bruised! All that crashing about has upset your previous injury as well." John could tell that Dr Beckett was less than pleased. But it wasn’t like he knew he was going to get impaled again.
"Right. But I'm doing much better now and when can I get out of here?"
"You managed to persuade Dr Keller to patch you up instead of being in the OR and then release you early post-op. I don't intend to be so accomodatin’ this time round," Carson warned.
"Doc, I had to - it was Teyla! We had to get her back from Michael and his experiments. It was worth it for Torren."
"Aye, I understand, but it was extremely reckless to play with your health like that. And I know it wasn't your fault that Colonel Carter was transferred back to the SGC at such short notice, leaving you and the others temporarily in charge."
"Guess that means I'm stuck here for a while yet then?" John grumped. He didn't want to admit to Carson that he'd still been napping a few afternoons right up til Woolsey arrived and could barely half walk-jog a mile with Ronon without his legs and belly aching.
"Colonel Sheppard, tell me honestly do you feel up to walking around just yet? Because I can arrange for you to get out of bed and sit in a chair for a while." Carson said exasperated.
Because he could never resist a challenge, John flipped back the bedcovers and tried to lift his legs and move to the edge of the bed. That put strain on his arms, back and abdominal muscles. And his body couldn't co-operate. Arms wobbled, his back twinged and his guts felt like he'd been split in two. He lay there gasping, one hand unconsciously going to his gauzed and wrapped new stitches. Puffing the pain away he angrily twitched the sheet and blanket back over his legs.
"Here," Carson held out a water beaker with a straw. John gratefully sipped at it.
"Okay. I get it. I'm stuck here for the moment. What kind of timescale are we talking about? "
"At least another day of rest on IV painkillers and antibiotics before I even start thinking about letting you move around in moderation- and only then with nurses or therapists. You could do serious damage, Colonel. You can graduate to a wheel chair for longer trips to the balcony, mess hall or the like. You know the routine."
"That's just it Doc. I've already done this and I'm doing it even slower this time! I'm gonna go nuts." John said, frustrated.
"No, you won't. We have excellent medical staff and you’ve got your team. I know you’re motivated to get better. Just don't overdo it or you risk further injury and my wrath."
"Gotcha," John yawned. "Hey, does that mean Woolsey says you can stay on after all? When's Keller come out of quarantine?"
“Dr Keller will be released later today and then on leave for few days. Woolsey decided I had better remain on part duty because of my drug therapy until she's back. Then I have to report to the SGC and after that I don’t know."
"I'm glad we got you back too, Doc. I'll miss you when you go."
"Aye well, so will I lad." Carson tilted his head to one side as his radio chirped in his ear and smiled “Are you ready for lunch? Because I think I hear it arriving any moment now."
"Is it toast by any chance?" John said with a wry grin, as his team mates clattered in all noise and bustle and trays. Teyla had brought Torren with her. He couldn’t get over how amazing it was to have her back and the miracle of the baby.
*****
A week later and John had graduated to the sanctuary of his room and oral pain meds. Still on limited mobility, he glared at the wheel chair folded up nearby. Lying on his bed, he tried to recoup energy to sit up and read for a while. Carson had gone and John missed his mother-henning.
Ronon had wheeled him out to his favourite balcony, and helped him stand up for a few minutes until his legs threatened to give way and his belly cramped. He couldn't believe how hunched over he was, damn healing stitches. Still it was worth it for the feeling of standing up like a normal person. He savoured the light breeze on his face and sunshine. He was determined to walk unaided to the same balcony by the end of the week.
His door chimed and he yelled “Open!” to let the PT staff in. He was half looking forward to it as it meant the beginning of recovery and also half dreading it as it meant some pain. But as he’d just done this so recently it seemed like it was someone else doing the stretches and exercises. Bracing his side with a pillow, he sat up and moved to the edge of his bed as the therapist came in and set up.
Time to get this over with and then he could look forward to his afternoon meds. How sad was that?
*****
“Sir? Colonel?”
John licked dry lips and opened his eyes. His XO stood looking down at him, balanced on his crutches.
“Damn. Is it 15.30 already, Major?”
“Sorry, sir. I did knock on the door first.”
John scrubbed at his face, sat up gingerly and started to look for his tablet on the bedcovers. Lorne had propped the crutches against the bed, and slid off his rucksack. nbsp; Unzipping a side pocket, he handed John a travel mug of coffee. He hop limped to the desk and propped his cast up on a cushion jauntily stacked on top of John’s footlocker. A routine well established over the last few days.
Lorne unzipped the other pocket for his own coffee to go, and his tablet. "Ready when you are, sir."
John blew out a breath and said "Okay let's do this. Unit inspection reports or Armoury Statistics and Requirements first?"
"Armoury, since you're good with the numbers."
John laughed and they worked for several hours sorting out paperwork and personnel issues. John had already spent time earlier wading through his email folder.
"When does the cast come off?" John asked as he walked stiffly to his door to see Lorne out.
"Two days time. Can't come soon enough. I almost sawed it off myself last week. Guess I'll be joining you in the rehab club."
"Yeah. Neither of us will be running five miles anytime soon." John said wistfully.
"Cheer up sir. It's been quiet. We've got a lot done on the base. We'll both be mobile and back to full duty in another few weeks. Then we can go off-world and kick ass."
"You were doing so well, until you said the Q word. Who knows what you’ve set in motion!" John said mock horrified.
"I'll ask Teyla to meditate some good vibes!" Lorne grinned as he crutched away up the corridor.
"You do that!" John palmed his door shut and thought all in all today had been a good day. Tiring but good. Lorne had left him with the latest graphic novels doing the rounds. Something to look forward to later.
He felt hungry and in need of company. He'd been in his room most of the day. Keller didn't say he couldn't socialise. Now all he needed was his team and transport, otherwise it would take him forever to slowly inch his way to the mess hall and then he would be too shaky to eat when he got there. He clicked his radio.
"Rodney? Whatcha doin'?"
“I’m busy!"
“Too busy for food? Meet you in the mess hall? Pass it on."
There was a long suffering sigh. "I'll tell Conan he's on wheel chair duty and see if Teyla and the munchkin are up for company as well."
******
John slowly recovered over the next few weeks, his fitness increasing steadily. Long distance and endurance were his current goals. He'd flown a few short hops in the jumper as long as he was only playing taxi and not marching for miles anywhere.
He knew he'd overdone it slightly today when his legs ached and burned after the morning's slow jog- still not up to his old time and distance. It made a change from the static bike, treadmill work and stretching exercises. The pain went away with some Tylenol as did the residual ache from his surgeries. Maybe he was running lop sided or something, his body still thinking he had to hunch up. Maybe he needed new running shoes.
His team adapted their routines round his rehab and therapies, and they adapted in turn to help Teyla and Torren while a decision was made about Kanaan and the other de-wraithed humans. Things were looking hopeful on that front.
John and his team were due to meet some allies for an annual trading meet and greet later that afternoon. Woolsey and Dr Keller had approved his going off world. Teyla couldn’t be away from Torren too long either. No excessive distances to walk and no jumper required through the ‘Gate- just an overnight stay (local time) and a communal dinner. They’d be back after a celebration breakfast.
And that was when John should have realised that the smelly brown stuff was about to hit the cooling whirly thing.
******
After walking for some twenty minutes from the Gate they arrived at the small township of Atoye, nestled in a large forest. John felt in good shape as they entered the town in time for the evening gathering and meal. They mingled with the locals and visiting traders.
Preparation for the shared meal was well under way. Various cold meats, breads and fruits adorned a side table in the main hall. Fragrant smells from rooms hidden out the back suggested hot food was in preparation. Women and children scurried to and fro with chairs and tableware.
Everyone was invited to sit at the long table in the centre of the main hall and have a drink while they waited for the main food to arrive.
Their hosts Moran and his wife Cate, mentioned that they had taken in some refugees from a wraith attack a month or so back. Integration was a slow and delicate process whether they were adults or children. After several years in the Pegasus galaxy this was something they’d become used to hearing and seeing in different variations. Of course the day John had met Teyla, her people had become refugees on Atlantis. Many preferred to hang on to their own cultures where possible. Most had learned to be adaptable.
Around the table introductions and bartering agreements were re-affirmed in an informal manner. This gave the group the opportunity to adjust the trading depending on the circumstances and needs of the group. And Camelot like, disagreements and changes were debated amongst the group to the best advantage of all concerned. It was certainly different and made a change from the usual misunderstandings.
As the evening wore on friendships were renewed and stories swapped about how they’d met and produce they offered to barter. John noticed one young girl of about eight staring at him as she served him food and juice. When the edited version of Teyla’s rescue and how dangerous Michael was, circulated in conversation, she ran out of the hall upset.
“That’s Neela, one of the refugees I was telling you about. She lost her family and most of the village. She doesn’t talk. It’s hard for her to accept being here. She's been helping in the kitchen for the first time today.” Moran murmured to John before standing up to propose a toast.
“We are glad that so many of our friends are able to be here at the start of a new trading season. May our harvests be plentiful and rivers full of fish! We shall survive as long as we fight together!"
Everyone cheered and finished up their wine or beer or juice. John and the others retired for the night in one of the guest rooms off the hall. Dumping his vest and sidearm on the bed nearest the door, John watched in amusement as Rodney tested out each bed like Goldilocks.
"Sheppard, that's the best one for my back!"
"Nope, you're not having it. I bagged it before you."
"Rodney, you know John likes the one by the door. Pick another one quickly so we can all go to sleep." Teyla semi ordered. Ronon just snorted and laid on the one in between Teyla and Rodney, in a slightly merry haze from the wine. John hadn't had much of it, Teyla none because she was still nursing Torren and Rodney had preferred the beer.
"Anyone else thirsty after those cakes? I could do with some water." Rodney mused but didn't get up from the bed.
" I'll go and get some. Be right back." John slipped out of the room.
In the kitchen he waited while the chief cook got some fresh water from outside and cups for him. He saw trays of canapé type things sitting off to one side by the back door. The food looked tempting, he popped two in his mouth. The taste wasn't quite what he was expecting but not totally unpleasant. He washed it down with some wine which was all he could find nearby.
On his way back John passed other guestrooms and was reminded of the custom of leaving footwear outside the room. Inside Teyla and Ronon had retired, unsurprisingly Rodney was still awake and waiting for his water. John washed up and laid down, ready to sleep. John could hear Rodney rustling around for a while before he dropped off.
Sometime later John woke up feeling odd. Slightly headachy and tingly at the same time. He gingerly sat up in bed. He squinted into the dark and took a deep breath. Nothing but the noise of his friends sleeping, Rodney's half snore counterpointed by Ronon's. Nope, still not feeling good.
And if he felt bad he didn't want to wake everyone by using the small washing alcove off to one side. There was another closet down the hall outside. He decided to use that and get some fresh air while he was out and about. He almost sniggered to himself at the jaunty thought. He lurched a bit as he quietly opened the door and stepped into the hallway. All was silent.
The hallway rippled and light bounced everywhere. He stared at the flickering wall sconces mesmerised until he stepped on something under his bare foot. Shoes. Bending over to put the shoes on made him subside to the floor. He fumbled around until he got them on. He crawled on his knees for a bit and found a table along the hall to pull his body upright.
Somewhere in the dim recesses of his brain he registered that perhaps he ought to tell someone where he was going and that he appeared to have lost touch with reality. But the lone thought was swamped by everything else being too weird, wonderful and absorbing all at once.
He still felt nauseous as he stumbled out into the dark night-time air. Fresh, cool air at last. He looked around.
My God the trees! He'd never seen anything like them before. He had to see more of them. There were so many of them he didn't know which way to go. He hurried into the forest, occasionally stumbling and tripping over roots and his stupid shoes which were making his feet hurt.
Suddenly there was a hooting noise and he whirled round alarmed, his heart hammering in his chest. Something rustled loudly off to his left.
Enemies! Things out get him! He had to get away. He began to run, zig- zagging sometimes on soft ground sometimes on hard packed earth. His feet and legs hurt, he had a stitch in his side from exertion. He slowed, tired out, only to jerk round when more noises screeched out of the dark. Wraith out to get him. He stumbled on, seeing wraith drones and even Kolya appeared from behind a tree. Finally he tripped hard and rolled down an incline. Lying on his back staring up at the enormous shimmering scary moon, John was afraid and closed his eyes. Exhausted, he slept.
******
The loud chirping of birds starting a morning chorus woke him up . He groaned, already feeling a nasty pulsing headache envelop his head and the first lurch of a roiling stomach. He shivered with cold.
He hadn't overdone the wine last night at the meal. That last bedtime drink must have really packed a punch, he thought as he opened his eyes and rolled over. Several things sprang immediately to attention. No shared room with a ceiling and walls. No team mates.
What the...? He was outside in a forest in the middle of freaking nowhere in his BDU pants and T-shirt!
As he scrambled up the steep bank, dizzy, every foot-step hurting, and stood on a hard packed dirt road - another thing came to mind. Why was he wearing someone else's poor excuse for boots? Heck these were barely shoes. No wonder his feet hurt- he wasn't even wearing socks. What the hell happened last night?
No clue where he was. He had some vague recollection of a bad dream of running away from wraith and drones. He felt bruised and had mud and leaves where he’d lain down or fallen over.
No dream. The running and visions must have been real for him to be in the middle of nowhere.
Birds chirped noisily nearby and flew around competing for branch space. He whirled round, heart pounding, non existent gun in his hand. Jittery much?
The sharp motion set off his queasy stomach and he stumbled over by a tree and lost everything he'd eaten over what felt like the last week. The meal last night. Food poisoning?! Maybe everyone was ill and wandering round the forest?
No, that was just daft! Think John!
It had been very late when they went to bed, it was barely dawn now. So he'd been running around and asleep for about four or five hours. Ronon had indulged in the wine, Teyla would be anxious to get back to Torren and so might be up early. Radio! He swipe at his ear, but either he'd taken it off last night or he'd lost it.
He stood on the ridge of the road and looked behind and in front of him. The track had to go somewhere, he just had to pick the right direction.
******
Knocking on the door woke Teyla and the others. Getting up, she noticed John's bed was empty. Opening the door a crack she saw their host Moran standing looking worried.
"Is everyone alright? I'm just checking because Neela was ill last night with the mushroom treats she made yesterday. We don't know who else ate any. Cook says several have gone from the serving dish. We prepared a lot of food yesterday but not all of it was set out."
"We are all well," she glanced back at Rodney still sleeping and Ronon, sitting up and yawning. John. "Although John is missing. I did not hear him leave."
"Well, all your shoes are outside, so he can't be far."
Teyla went to John's bed, it was cold and had been empty for some time. His outer jacket, vest and socks were under the bed as was his sidearm. Tucked into one of the Velcro pockets was his radio. Something was wrong.
"Is Neela recovering? What should we be aware of?"she asked.
"She behaved oddly, laughing and scared in turns, seeing strange things . Unlike a food poisoning. We purged her and she has slept. But she did talk of wanting to help and making her favourite food."
"That was what she made last night? Maybe she got some of the things wrong. You said she was new here. Mushrooms can be very deceiving. I hope she's all right." Teyla suggested, remembering her own food mishaps as a youngster trying to re-create a favourite meal.
Suddenly she just knew that John had to be ill too, somewhere without the aid of help. Rousing the others and waiting for Moran to round up more men, they set off to search for John. Ronon and the others could track. All they needed was a bit of luck.
At the hour deadline they'd set, Teyla was about to alert Rodney to bring a jumper through- one of Moran's men spotted something. Walking slowly and limping with each step, John's black dressed figure came in to view. They rushed to meet him. Ronon had his jacket and boots. Teyla had a small medical kit.
*****
He was shaking with cold and very muddy and dirty. The scratches on his arms were throbbing a bit. Each step sent shooting pains up his legs, especially below his knees. His feet and blisters he didn't want to think about. He focused inward and kept going. He had to have been missed by now. He raised his head when he heard shouts ahead.
People.
His Team.
He relaxed in relief. Trembling with pain he stopped and waited for them to reach him. Then he grew inpatient.
"Hey." he said, taking a shaky step and groaning in pain. His legs finally gave way as Ronon got to him. Ronon guided him to sit on the road.
"Are you alright? Where are you hurt?" Teyla asked him, kneeling beside him.
"It's my legs, think I've got shin splints from all the crazy last night. I've had it before, but nothing like this. Probably rubbed my feet a bit raw in these shoes too." He couldn't bear sitting up a moment longer and lay back flat on the road, one arm across his eyes.
Ronon looked at Teyla and she nodded, he radioed Rodney to get the jumper. It would take time to carry John back, there was no way he was walking another step.
"John! Did you eat anything that we did not last night? Did you see strange things that made you walk away? Have you been ill?"
"Had some food in the kitchen when I got the water for Rodney last night. Felt ill and went get some fresh air. Threw up this morning." He tried to sit up, frowning at them, worried "Have you guys been ill too?"
"No, we are fine. It was an unfortunate mistake with food, the girl we saw yesterday was ill to, but she's alright." Teyla assured him, checking with Moran, who nodded his agreement.
A familiar hum appeared, and John felt the tingle of the jumper technology as it landed gently on the road behind them.
Moments later he had been carried into it, as Moran's men set off back to the town. Teyla came with him as she had to get back to Torren. He made Ronon and Rodney stay for the breakfast, to show Moran and the others there were no hard feelings.
For once he was glad to see Dr Keller and the waiting gurney, as the hatch lowered in the jumper bay.
"What have you been doing now Colonel?" she said taking in his sore and bloody feet and scratches on his arms as they headed down the corridor.
"Taking a scenic walk in the woods," he replied. "And I'm guessing this puts me back to square one on the mobility front!"
"Let's get you under the scanner first and some blood work. I gather mushrooms were involved somewhere along the line?" she asked, shiny he penlight in his eyes as they stood in the transporter.
"Ow! Yes, but not deliberately. Let's just say I'll say no next time."
******
By the time the others had returned from Atoye and Teyla had fed Torren, Dr Keller was ready to report on her findings.
John lay gauzed and wrapped and finally warm.
"It turns out that John and the girl accidently ingested the equivalent of magic mushrooms. Because they were fresh they weren't as strong as dried ones, but nasty none the less.mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;mso-fareast-language:
EN-GB;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">However the Colonel also had alcohol in his system it may have added to the effects The psilocin produced in his body should break down easily and should do so by now," Dr Keller pointed to the saline hooked above John's bed." You've got that because you were dehydrated as well."
"What about my legs and feet?"
"Scans revealed a tiny stress fracture on one leg and MTSS in both. That means icepacks, anti-inflammatory drugs and bed rest. "
John groaned, but he expected it.
"What is MTSS?" Teyla asked.
"Sorry, because John obviously knows....medial tibial stress syndrome, or shin splints. An inflammation of tendons caused by over-use. I don't suppose the wrong shoes helped either in the forest." Keller explained.
"Guess that means you're back on wheel chair duty Ronon!" Rodney smirked.
"Hey, are you implying I'm heavy? You can wheel me to your lab any day!" John said feeling a little hurt.
"Okay, if you insist." Rodney sighed.
"Hold up. One day at a time folks. The colonel is going nowhere for the next day or two at least. Sort it out amongst yourselves later!" Dr Keller admonished.
"What would you like to do John?" Teyla asked.
"I don't want to sleep just yet. Stay and talk to me. Go get Torren." John didn't want to tell them what he'd seen and how foolish he felt running around a forest hallucinating like some crazed hippy on a bad trip. He wanted the here and now, the real things. His team. Atlantis.
END
Tridget asked for: Team , Lorne is a nice addition if it works for the story, I prefer Carson to Keller, but have no dislike for Keller if that works better for the story. Gen. H/C focussed on Sheppard sick or injured in some way
Something was over his face, he bucked hard. He couldn’t get away. Breathing fast, his chest heaved as he battled. Sweat trickled down his face.
Alien. Aliens…..oh God….he tried to pull off the thing covering his nose and mouth.
The wraith grinned and reached forward but instead of aiming for his chest to feed, went low for his belly. He yelled in pain and tried to roll away. Hive tendrils grabbed at his arms and legs holding him down- he fought back.
"Colonel? Colonel Sheppard! Calm down and wake up for me!"
There was no mistaking that accent. What was Carson doing on a Hive ship?
Disorientated, buzzing with pain endorphins and slick with sweat he opened his eyes and looked straight into Carson’s worried face instead of a Wraith. Huh?
"You’re alright. Slow down! Breathe! Stop fighting everyone!" the doctor said.
Machines beeped a fast tattoo in the background. He frowned, still not quite with it. The beeping gradually slowed and nurses let go of his arms and legs, eyeing him warily as Beckett checked his IV and pulse ox clip on his finger.
Atlantis. He was in Atlantis. The thing on his face was an oxygen mask.
He shivered, trying to gather energy to say something as Ronon appeared in the infirmary, his fast lope reaching his bedside in moments.
"What happened? I wasn't gone long!" Ronon asked looking worried.
"His temperature spiked. Dreams or nightmares were making him hyperventilate." Carson replied, checking the monitors.
"Did we get him?”John asked, muzzy headed and his guts throbbing nastily. He shot out a hand and grabbed Carson’s nearest arm tight pulling him down towards him.
"Did we get who?" Carson asked, staring at his patient’s flushed face whilst gently untangling John's hot hand.
"Michael." John gritted out behind the mask.
"No, he got away- remember? You got Teyla back, she’s alright. And so’s her wee baby. Everything's alright."
"But there was a thing… a wraith… was here." He insisted. Hadn’t there been? There was danger, didn't they realise it?
"You’re ill, Sheppard. Calm down and rest. There is no wraith, everyone is fine. Keller is fine too." Ronon reassured him.
John surged up in bed - that was the danger they were all in, the thing…taking over Keller…. "Ow!" he grimaced and slumped back into the pillow.
Carson and his team worked expertly round John, removing the oxygen mask and wiping his sweaty face with a cool cloth, adding meds to his IV, and updating his medical chart. Ronon's gaze focused on John, managing to distract him from Carson checking his newest gut wound.
Ronon wouldn’t lie to him.
"Sure? It didn’t get Keller? You?" John sounded unsure, and tried to point at the bruising round Ronon’s neck. But he was fading fast, his body exhausted from fever and fighting the medical staff, his eyes already drooping shut. The darkness pulled him under as he heard Ronon say "There are no Wraith...."
******
"There are no Wraith. Keller is in quarantine. I’ll be okay. Zelenka is fine. You’re the one not fine Sheppard!” Ronon repeated, his voice gradually going more hoarse and croaky.
There was no response, the Colonel was asleep again.
"Doc?" Ronon queried.
"He’s a wee bit confused. It’s to be expected after surgery and the anaesthesia. Perhaps he's having a reaction to the Hive tendril too. We’re doing everything we can, you know that and...." Carson was cut off by Rodney appearing and talking nineteen to the dozen as he came through the doors, still clutching a work tablet.
"Zelenka said you ran out of the mess hall! You couldn't tell me something was wrong?! Is he worse? WHAT is going on- oh my God he looks awful!"
"Rodney, pipe down. It all happened very fast. We're getting it under control. I gather it’s only been a month since the building explosion and collapse you were all in. He'd barely recovered from that injury and now this happens." Carson interjected before Rodney could rant louder and longer.
“Been pushing himself too hard to get back on full duty and go off world looking for Michael.” Ronon muttered.
“Well, blame the SGC or more likely the IOA for removing Colonel Carter like that. No warning and in blatant disregard of changeover protocols.” groused Rodney. “Of course he wasn’t just going to lie there quietly with a horrific wound and do nothing when we were all pitching in keeping Atlantis going!”
"Okay- enough now. He needs rest. My staff will be checking on him while I’ve got to report to Mr Woolsey. Ronon - how’s your throat? Any problems swallowing? Rash?" Beckett turned to talk to Rodney and Ronon and motioned them away from the Colonel's bedside, so he could sleep undisturbed.
"I’m eating okay- kitchen made some slushy stuff.”
"Good, I put in a request especially for you. You can also use a cold compress to reduce the inflammation. Rodney, how was Radek? I thought I told him to stay out of the lab for a couple of days." Carson fussed, looking a little frazzled round the edges.
"I didn’t see him- he was in the mess hall and saw Ronon run out and radioed me. Ronon should go back to his lunch. I'll, uhm, stay for a bit. Jennifer's in quarantine anyway." Rodney offered, suddenly remembering that Carson must be tired too. He'd just come out of stasis, been injected with a wraith serum and propelled straight into several medical crises.
Pretty much any Thursday in the Pegasus Galaxy, Rodney mused, sidetracked for a second.
Rodney sat down in the plastic chair next to Sheppard's bed as Ronon departed.
Carson left orders to be contacted for any emergency relating to Dr Keller and the Colonel and to allow the use of a cooling blanket if the Colonel's temperature rose a degree or two more. The doctor left to see Mr Woolsey.
As Rodney opened up his latest schematics and equations on his tablet, he had a flash of déjà vu. Carson was right it had been only a month or so since he'd last sat by Sheppard's bed doing exactly this as he recovered from the building collapse and Teyla’s rescue.
He peered at the Colonel. All quiet for now although he still looked too warm. At least he hadn't thrown up on him this time.* Still, it was early days yet. Maybe it would be Teyla or Ronon next time.
That reminded him, he clicked his radio to contact Teyla and tell her the latest about Sheppard. She'd want to know how he was doing, even if she was stuck in her room with a crying baby (that he'd delivered!) and diapers.
******
By the time John woke up less fuzzy and more rational, he discovered that another day had passed. He hated being so out of it and lethargic. His whole body ached and his midsection was very sore. He was propped up in bed waiting on Carson's latest verdict. His eyes began to close and he felt himself listing to one side when Beckett's throat clearing jerked him awake.
"Why'm I so damn tired, doc?"
"Well, not only is this the second major abdominal surgery you've had in five weeks- which would be more than enough for most people. But you also crashed a jumper into the Tower and had an experimental drug that made you seize and require CPR. So forgive your body for feeling a little battered and bruised! All that crashing about has upset your previous injury as well." John could tell that Dr Beckett was less than pleased. But it wasn’t like he knew he was going to get impaled again.
"Right. But I'm doing much better now and when can I get out of here?"
"You managed to persuade Dr Keller to patch you up instead of being in the OR and then release you early post-op. I don't intend to be so accomodatin’ this time round," Carson warned.
"Doc, I had to - it was Teyla! We had to get her back from Michael and his experiments. It was worth it for Torren."
"Aye, I understand, but it was extremely reckless to play with your health like that. And I know it wasn't your fault that Colonel Carter was transferred back to the SGC at such short notice, leaving you and the others temporarily in charge."
"Guess that means I'm stuck here for a while yet then?" John grumped. He didn't want to admit to Carson that he'd still been napping a few afternoons right up til Woolsey arrived and could barely half walk-jog a mile with Ronon without his legs and belly aching.
"Colonel Sheppard, tell me honestly do you feel up to walking around just yet? Because I can arrange for you to get out of bed and sit in a chair for a while." Carson said exasperated.
Because he could never resist a challenge, John flipped back the bedcovers and tried to lift his legs and move to the edge of the bed. That put strain on his arms, back and abdominal muscles. And his body couldn't co-operate. Arms wobbled, his back twinged and his guts felt like he'd been split in two. He lay there gasping, one hand unconsciously going to his gauzed and wrapped new stitches. Puffing the pain away he angrily twitched the sheet and blanket back over his legs.
"Here," Carson held out a water beaker with a straw. John gratefully sipped at it.
"Okay. I get it. I'm stuck here for the moment. What kind of timescale are we talking about? "
"At least another day of rest on IV painkillers and antibiotics before I even start thinking about letting you move around in moderation- and only then with nurses or therapists. You could do serious damage, Colonel. You can graduate to a wheel chair for longer trips to the balcony, mess hall or the like. You know the routine."
"That's just it Doc. I've already done this and I'm doing it even slower this time! I'm gonna go nuts." John said, frustrated.
"No, you won't. We have excellent medical staff and you’ve got your team. I know you’re motivated to get better. Just don't overdo it or you risk further injury and my wrath."
"Gotcha," John yawned. "Hey, does that mean Woolsey says you can stay on after all? When's Keller come out of quarantine?"
“Dr Keller will be released later today and then on leave for few days. Woolsey decided I had better remain on part duty because of my drug therapy until she's back. Then I have to report to the SGC and after that I don’t know."
"I'm glad we got you back too, Doc. I'll miss you when you go."
"Aye well, so will I lad." Carson tilted his head to one side as his radio chirped in his ear and smiled “Are you ready for lunch? Because I think I hear it arriving any moment now."
"Is it toast by any chance?" John said with a wry grin, as his team mates clattered in all noise and bustle and trays. Teyla had brought Torren with her. He couldn’t get over how amazing it was to have her back and the miracle of the baby.
*****
A week later and John had graduated to the sanctuary of his room and oral pain meds. Still on limited mobility, he glared at the wheel chair folded up nearby. Lying on his bed, he tried to recoup energy to sit up and read for a while. Carson had gone and John missed his mother-henning.
Ronon had wheeled him out to his favourite balcony, and helped him stand up for a few minutes until his legs threatened to give way and his belly cramped. He couldn't believe how hunched over he was, damn healing stitches. Still it was worth it for the feeling of standing up like a normal person. He savoured the light breeze on his face and sunshine. He was determined to walk unaided to the same balcony by the end of the week.
His door chimed and he yelled “Open!” to let the PT staff in. He was half looking forward to it as it meant the beginning of recovery and also half dreading it as it meant some pain. But as he’d just done this so recently it seemed like it was someone else doing the stretches and exercises. Bracing his side with a pillow, he sat up and moved to the edge of his bed as the therapist came in and set up.
Time to get this over with and then he could look forward to his afternoon meds. How sad was that?
*****
“Sir? Colonel?”
John licked dry lips and opened his eyes. His XO stood looking down at him, balanced on his crutches.
“Damn. Is it 15.30 already, Major?”
“Sorry, sir. I did knock on the door first.”
John scrubbed at his face, sat up gingerly and started to look for his tablet on the bedcovers. Lorne had propped the crutches against the bed, and slid off his rucksack. nbsp; Unzipping a side pocket, he handed John a travel mug of coffee. He hop limped to the desk and propped his cast up on a cushion jauntily stacked on top of John’s footlocker. A routine well established over the last few days.
Lorne unzipped the other pocket for his own coffee to go, and his tablet. "Ready when you are, sir."
John blew out a breath and said "Okay let's do this. Unit inspection reports or Armoury Statistics and Requirements first?"
"Armoury, since you're good with the numbers."
John laughed and they worked for several hours sorting out paperwork and personnel issues. John had already spent time earlier wading through his email folder.
"When does the cast come off?" John asked as he walked stiffly to his door to see Lorne out.
"Two days time. Can't come soon enough. I almost sawed it off myself last week. Guess I'll be joining you in the rehab club."
"Yeah. Neither of us will be running five miles anytime soon." John said wistfully.
"Cheer up sir. It's been quiet. We've got a lot done on the base. We'll both be mobile and back to full duty in another few weeks. Then we can go off-world and kick ass."
"You were doing so well, until you said the Q word. Who knows what you’ve set in motion!" John said mock horrified.
"I'll ask Teyla to meditate some good vibes!" Lorne grinned as he crutched away up the corridor.
"You do that!" John palmed his door shut and thought all in all today had been a good day. Tiring but good. Lorne had left him with the latest graphic novels doing the rounds. Something to look forward to later.
He felt hungry and in need of company. He'd been in his room most of the day. Keller didn't say he couldn't socialise. Now all he needed was his team and transport, otherwise it would take him forever to slowly inch his way to the mess hall and then he would be too shaky to eat when he got there. He clicked his radio.
"Rodney? Whatcha doin'?"
“I’m busy!"
“Too busy for food? Meet you in the mess hall? Pass it on."
There was a long suffering sigh. "I'll tell Conan he's on wheel chair duty and see if Teyla and the munchkin are up for company as well."
******
John slowly recovered over the next few weeks, his fitness increasing steadily. Long distance and endurance were his current goals. He'd flown a few short hops in the jumper as long as he was only playing taxi and not marching for miles anywhere.
He knew he'd overdone it slightly today when his legs ached and burned after the morning's slow jog- still not up to his old time and distance. It made a change from the static bike, treadmill work and stretching exercises. The pain went away with some Tylenol as did the residual ache from his surgeries. Maybe he was running lop sided or something, his body still thinking he had to hunch up. Maybe he needed new running shoes.
His team adapted their routines round his rehab and therapies, and they adapted in turn to help Teyla and Torren while a decision was made about Kanaan and the other de-wraithed humans. Things were looking hopeful on that front.
John and his team were due to meet some allies for an annual trading meet and greet later that afternoon. Woolsey and Dr Keller had approved his going off world. Teyla couldn’t be away from Torren too long either. No excessive distances to walk and no jumper required through the ‘Gate- just an overnight stay (local time) and a communal dinner. They’d be back after a celebration breakfast.
And that was when John should have realised that the smelly brown stuff was about to hit the cooling whirly thing.
******
After walking for some twenty minutes from the Gate they arrived at the small township of Atoye, nestled in a large forest. John felt in good shape as they entered the town in time for the evening gathering and meal. They mingled with the locals and visiting traders.
Preparation for the shared meal was well under way. Various cold meats, breads and fruits adorned a side table in the main hall. Fragrant smells from rooms hidden out the back suggested hot food was in preparation. Women and children scurried to and fro with chairs and tableware.
Everyone was invited to sit at the long table in the centre of the main hall and have a drink while they waited for the main food to arrive.
Their hosts Moran and his wife Cate, mentioned that they had taken in some refugees from a wraith attack a month or so back. Integration was a slow and delicate process whether they were adults or children. After several years in the Pegasus galaxy this was something they’d become used to hearing and seeing in different variations. Of course the day John had met Teyla, her people had become refugees on Atlantis. Many preferred to hang on to their own cultures where possible. Most had learned to be adaptable.
Around the table introductions and bartering agreements were re-affirmed in an informal manner. This gave the group the opportunity to adjust the trading depending on the circumstances and needs of the group. And Camelot like, disagreements and changes were debated amongst the group to the best advantage of all concerned. It was certainly different and made a change from the usual misunderstandings.
As the evening wore on friendships were renewed and stories swapped about how they’d met and produce they offered to barter. John noticed one young girl of about eight staring at him as she served him food and juice. When the edited version of Teyla’s rescue and how dangerous Michael was, circulated in conversation, she ran out of the hall upset.
“That’s Neela, one of the refugees I was telling you about. She lost her family and most of the village. She doesn’t talk. It’s hard for her to accept being here. She's been helping in the kitchen for the first time today.” Moran murmured to John before standing up to propose a toast.
“We are glad that so many of our friends are able to be here at the start of a new trading season. May our harvests be plentiful and rivers full of fish! We shall survive as long as we fight together!"
Everyone cheered and finished up their wine or beer or juice. John and the others retired for the night in one of the guest rooms off the hall. Dumping his vest and sidearm on the bed nearest the door, John watched in amusement as Rodney tested out each bed like Goldilocks.
"Sheppard, that's the best one for my back!"
"Nope, you're not having it. I bagged it before you."
"Rodney, you know John likes the one by the door. Pick another one quickly so we can all go to sleep." Teyla semi ordered. Ronon just snorted and laid on the one in between Teyla and Rodney, in a slightly merry haze from the wine. John hadn't had much of it, Teyla none because she was still nursing Torren and Rodney had preferred the beer.
"Anyone else thirsty after those cakes? I could do with some water." Rodney mused but didn't get up from the bed.
" I'll go and get some. Be right back." John slipped out of the room.
In the kitchen he waited while the chief cook got some fresh water from outside and cups for him. He saw trays of canapé type things sitting off to one side by the back door. The food looked tempting, he popped two in his mouth. The taste wasn't quite what he was expecting but not totally unpleasant. He washed it down with some wine which was all he could find nearby.
On his way back John passed other guestrooms and was reminded of the custom of leaving footwear outside the room. Inside Teyla and Ronon had retired, unsurprisingly Rodney was still awake and waiting for his water. John washed up and laid down, ready to sleep. John could hear Rodney rustling around for a while before he dropped off.
Sometime later John woke up feeling odd. Slightly headachy and tingly at the same time. He gingerly sat up in bed. He squinted into the dark and took a deep breath. Nothing but the noise of his friends sleeping, Rodney's half snore counterpointed by Ronon's. Nope, still not feeling good.
And if he felt bad he didn't want to wake everyone by using the small washing alcove off to one side. There was another closet down the hall outside. He decided to use that and get some fresh air while he was out and about. He almost sniggered to himself at the jaunty thought. He lurched a bit as he quietly opened the door and stepped into the hallway. All was silent.
The hallway rippled and light bounced everywhere. He stared at the flickering wall sconces mesmerised until he stepped on something under his bare foot. Shoes. Bending over to put the shoes on made him subside to the floor. He fumbled around until he got them on. He crawled on his knees for a bit and found a table along the hall to pull his body upright.
Somewhere in the dim recesses of his brain he registered that perhaps he ought to tell someone where he was going and that he appeared to have lost touch with reality. But the lone thought was swamped by everything else being too weird, wonderful and absorbing all at once.
He still felt nauseous as he stumbled out into the dark night-time air. Fresh, cool air at last. He looked around.
My God the trees! He'd never seen anything like them before. He had to see more of them. There were so many of them he didn't know which way to go. He hurried into the forest, occasionally stumbling and tripping over roots and his stupid shoes which were making his feet hurt.
Suddenly there was a hooting noise and he whirled round alarmed, his heart hammering in his chest. Something rustled loudly off to his left.
Enemies! Things out get him! He had to get away. He began to run, zig- zagging sometimes on soft ground sometimes on hard packed earth. His feet and legs hurt, he had a stitch in his side from exertion. He slowed, tired out, only to jerk round when more noises screeched out of the dark. Wraith out to get him. He stumbled on, seeing wraith drones and even Kolya appeared from behind a tree. Finally he tripped hard and rolled down an incline. Lying on his back staring up at the enormous shimmering scary moon, John was afraid and closed his eyes. Exhausted, he slept.
******
The loud chirping of birds starting a morning chorus woke him up . He groaned, already feeling a nasty pulsing headache envelop his head and the first lurch of a roiling stomach. He shivered with cold.
He hadn't overdone the wine last night at the meal. That last bedtime drink must have really packed a punch, he thought as he opened his eyes and rolled over. Several things sprang immediately to attention. No shared room with a ceiling and walls. No team mates.
What the...? He was outside in a forest in the middle of freaking nowhere in his BDU pants and T-shirt!
As he scrambled up the steep bank, dizzy, every foot-step hurting, and stood on a hard packed dirt road - another thing came to mind. Why was he wearing someone else's poor excuse for boots? Heck these were barely shoes. No wonder his feet hurt- he wasn't even wearing socks. What the hell happened last night?
No clue where he was. He had some vague recollection of a bad dream of running away from wraith and drones. He felt bruised and had mud and leaves where he’d lain down or fallen over.
No dream. The running and visions must have been real for him to be in the middle of nowhere.
Birds chirped noisily nearby and flew around competing for branch space. He whirled round, heart pounding, non existent gun in his hand. Jittery much?
The sharp motion set off his queasy stomach and he stumbled over by a tree and lost everything he'd eaten over what felt like the last week. The meal last night. Food poisoning?! Maybe everyone was ill and wandering round the forest?
No, that was just daft! Think John!
It had been very late when they went to bed, it was barely dawn now. So he'd been running around and asleep for about four or five hours. Ronon had indulged in the wine, Teyla would be anxious to get back to Torren and so might be up early. Radio! He swipe at his ear, but either he'd taken it off last night or he'd lost it.
He stood on the ridge of the road and looked behind and in front of him. The track had to go somewhere, he just had to pick the right direction.
******
Knocking on the door woke Teyla and the others. Getting up, she noticed John's bed was empty. Opening the door a crack she saw their host Moran standing looking worried.
"Is everyone alright? I'm just checking because Neela was ill last night with the mushroom treats she made yesterday. We don't know who else ate any. Cook says several have gone from the serving dish. We prepared a lot of food yesterday but not all of it was set out."
"We are all well," she glanced back at Rodney still sleeping and Ronon, sitting up and yawning. John. "Although John is missing. I did not hear him leave."
"Well, all your shoes are outside, so he can't be far."
Teyla went to John's bed, it was cold and had been empty for some time. His outer jacket, vest and socks were under the bed as was his sidearm. Tucked into one of the Velcro pockets was his radio. Something was wrong.
"Is Neela recovering? What should we be aware of?"she asked.
"She behaved oddly, laughing and scared in turns, seeing strange things . Unlike a food poisoning. We purged her and she has slept. But she did talk of wanting to help and making her favourite food."
"That was what she made last night? Maybe she got some of the things wrong. You said she was new here. Mushrooms can be very deceiving. I hope she's all right." Teyla suggested, remembering her own food mishaps as a youngster trying to re-create a favourite meal.
Suddenly she just knew that John had to be ill too, somewhere without the aid of help. Rousing the others and waiting for Moran to round up more men, they set off to search for John. Ronon and the others could track. All they needed was a bit of luck.
At the hour deadline they'd set, Teyla was about to alert Rodney to bring a jumper through- one of Moran's men spotted something. Walking slowly and limping with each step, John's black dressed figure came in to view. They rushed to meet him. Ronon had his jacket and boots. Teyla had a small medical kit.
*****
He was shaking with cold and very muddy and dirty. The scratches on his arms were throbbing a bit. Each step sent shooting pains up his legs, especially below his knees. His feet and blisters he didn't want to think about. He focused inward and kept going. He had to have been missed by now. He raised his head when he heard shouts ahead.
People.
His Team.
He relaxed in relief. Trembling with pain he stopped and waited for them to reach him. Then he grew inpatient.
"Hey." he said, taking a shaky step and groaning in pain. His legs finally gave way as Ronon got to him. Ronon guided him to sit on the road.
"Are you alright? Where are you hurt?" Teyla asked him, kneeling beside him.
"It's my legs, think I've got shin splints from all the crazy last night. I've had it before, but nothing like this. Probably rubbed my feet a bit raw in these shoes too." He couldn't bear sitting up a moment longer and lay back flat on the road, one arm across his eyes.
Ronon looked at Teyla and she nodded, he radioed Rodney to get the jumper. It would take time to carry John back, there was no way he was walking another step.
"John! Did you eat anything that we did not last night? Did you see strange things that made you walk away? Have you been ill?"
"Had some food in the kitchen when I got the water for Rodney last night. Felt ill and went get some fresh air. Threw up this morning." He tried to sit up, frowning at them, worried "Have you guys been ill too?"
"No, we are fine. It was an unfortunate mistake with food, the girl we saw yesterday was ill to, but she's alright." Teyla assured him, checking with Moran, who nodded his agreement.
A familiar hum appeared, and John felt the tingle of the jumper technology as it landed gently on the road behind them.
Moments later he had been carried into it, as Moran's men set off back to the town. Teyla came with him as she had to get back to Torren. He made Ronon and Rodney stay for the breakfast, to show Moran and the others there were no hard feelings.
For once he was glad to see Dr Keller and the waiting gurney, as the hatch lowered in the jumper bay.
"What have you been doing now Colonel?" she said taking in his sore and bloody feet and scratches on his arms as they headed down the corridor.
"Taking a scenic walk in the woods," he replied. "And I'm guessing this puts me back to square one on the mobility front!"
"Let's get you under the scanner first and some blood work. I gather mushrooms were involved somewhere along the line?" she asked, shiny he penlight in his eyes as they stood in the transporter.
"Ow! Yes, but not deliberately. Let's just say I'll say no next time."
******
By the time the others had returned from Atoye and Teyla had fed Torren, Dr Keller was ready to report on her findings.
John lay gauzed and wrapped and finally warm.
"It turns out that John and the girl accidently ingested the equivalent of magic mushrooms. Because they were fresh they weren't as strong as dried ones, but nasty none the less.mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-ansi-language:EN-GB;mso-fareast-language:
EN-GB;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">However the Colonel also had alcohol in his system it may have added to the effects The psilocin produced in his body should break down easily and should do so by now," Dr Keller pointed to the saline hooked above John's bed." You've got that because you were dehydrated as well."
"What about my legs and feet?"
"Scans revealed a tiny stress fracture on one leg and MTSS in both. That means icepacks, anti-inflammatory drugs and bed rest. "
John groaned, but he expected it.
"What is MTSS?" Teyla asked.
"Sorry, because John obviously knows....medial tibial stress syndrome, or shin splints. An inflammation of tendons caused by over-use. I don't suppose the wrong shoes helped either in the forest." Keller explained.
"Guess that means you're back on wheel chair duty Ronon!" Rodney smirked.
"Hey, are you implying I'm heavy? You can wheel me to your lab any day!" John said feeling a little hurt.
"Okay, if you insist." Rodney sighed.
"Hold up. One day at a time folks. The colonel is going nowhere for the next day or two at least. Sort it out amongst yourselves later!" Dr Keller admonished.
"What would you like to do John?" Teyla asked.
"I don't want to sleep just yet. Stay and talk to me. Go get Torren." John didn't want to tell them what he'd seen and how foolish he felt running around a forest hallucinating like some crazed hippy on a bad trip. He wanted the here and now, the real things. His team. Atlantis.
END
Tridget asked for: Team , Lorne is a nice addition if it works for the story, I prefer Carson to Keller, but have no dislike for Keller if that works better for the story. Gen. H/C focussed on Sheppard sick or injured in some way