Part of the "A World of Hurt" series – an ongoing, only slightly AU series of whumpy tag fics to the each of the Season 3 episodes. By hook or by crook I will work some Shep whump into every episode.. if TPTB won't do it, then I'll just have to do it myself :) These stories are designed to fit in with the canon of Season 3 – imagine, if you will, that they take place "off-screen" before, during or after the episode, as appropriate.
Seventh fic in the series – this is the tag for Common Ground. Slightly out of order I know but I will be going back and doing the tags for Progeny and The Real World. But I just had to get this one out of my system first. This was such a highly anticipated Shepisode and it certainly didn't disappoint. And healed or not, you can't tell me anyone can go through what Sheppard did in that episode and not have some psychological repercussions. So here is my take on that… First chapter is Carson POV, next chapter will be Sheppy POV.
Please read and review.
SPOILERS FOR COMMON GROUND!
Colonel Sheppard was unusually quiet. Well, perhaps not so much unusually quiet, Carson mused. After all, for all his easy charm, the Colonel was an oddly reserved man and never really much of a chatterbox. But today something was definitely different. The man was.. quiet, yes. But not just quiet, rather.. subdued. Yes. That was it. Subdued. The Colonel was a man who always played his cards very close to his chest, never really sharing his emotions with anyone, and yet Carson had the sneaking suspicion that John Sheppard was someone who nevertheless felt things very deeply; he simply chose to keep those feelings to himself. Over the course of two and more years in Atlantis, Carson had seen Sheppard deal with every kind of situation imaginable, and seen him cope with it all, and he'd seen some of those emotions leak through Sheppard's rigid control. He'd seen the man angry, he'd seen him worried, seen him scared – try though he might to hide it. But this was the first time Carson had seen Sheppard so still, so listless.
It seemed the light had gone from the Colonel's eyes, that sparkle of mischief, of interest, of.. vitality that was so much a part of the man. Strange how you could not really notice something like that until it was gone. The John Sheppard Carson knew had a constant energy to him, a certain impression of strength and power that went beyond the merely physical. But right now he sat uneasily on an exam bed, his shoulders rigid with tension and his eyes miles away, making no attempt to maintain his usual, cheerful demeanour. Sheppard seemed distant, his attention focused inwards.
The journey back from Kolya's secret base had been…oddly strained. Sheppard had been energetic and intense, focused entirely on finding a location to drop the unconscious Wraith and brushing off Carson's and his team mates' bemused concern. Everyone had been uncomfortable about the comatose Wraith laid out on the floor of the rear compartment, all of them still stunned by the revelation that the Wraith could give life as well as take it, still struggling to comprehend what exactly had gone on between Sheppard and the creature. They'd been none the wiser by the time Sheppard had stepped back inside the cloaked jumper and signalled to McKay to take off.
With the Wraith gone there had seemed to be a vacuum in the small craft, a big, empty space filled with questions and concerns.. and John Sheppard had wanted none of it. He'd held on to his outwardly calm, unruffled composure with grim determination, brushing aside his friends concern's with his standard "I'm fine," and making it clear he did not want to talk, saying only "Let's just go home." The short flight back to Atlantis had passed in uncomfortable silence, Sheppard's team mates sharing looks of concern and confusion that the Colonel had resolutely ignored, their tentative enquiries as to whether he was okay petering out in the face of his determination to act as if nothing had happened. Carson had found himself watching Sheppard closely, wondering just how much it was taking out of him to hold himself together for their benefit. Sheppard had looked outwardly relaxed as he sat on a bench in the rear compartment, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall. He'd only opened his eyes and leant forward as the jumper had begun its slow, controlled ascent into the jumper bay and, in that moment, as Carson had watched him straighten himself and settle his mask of nonchalance firmly into place, their eyes had met and the mask had slipped for an instant, Carson shocked by the hollowness of that gaze. He'd blinked and the moment was gone.
The mood on Atlantis had been understandably jubilant when Sheppard was returned to them, whole and healthy, but Carson had found himself watching Sheppard with a concerned eye, noting his abstraction, his reluctant response to being the centre of attention. The smile on Sheppard's face had been forced and Carson could see the rigid tension in the way he held himself, looking for all the world like he was about ready to bolt. He'd seen the relief on Elizabeth's face morph into worry when Sheppard visibly flinched as she hugged him.
He'd taken it upon himself to hustle Sheppard out of the jumper bay and straight to the infirmary, ignoring the protests of the Colonel's team as he'd refused to allow any visitors.
Sheppard looked up warily as Carson approached and the doctor's mouth tightened at the look on the Colonel's face; not a little tension and a whole lot of something much darker, much deeper – something Carson couldn't even begin to guess at. Things had happened in such a rush when they'd found Sheppard. They'd gone in there expecting the worst, having watched in horror as he was fed upon no less than three times by the Wraith, hoping against hope that there would be something left to rescue, that somehow Sheppard could be saved. And they'd found him not only still alive but restored to full health, looking no different than when he'd left Atlantis. From that moment on they'd been stumbling along in Sheppard's wake, trying to keep up with events without really understanding what was happening. And of course, as shocked as they were, they'd been relieved beyond measure to find their friend apparently uninjured. It was all too easy to forget that, though he may have been healed, though there was no remaining sign of the damage done to his body, Sheppard had nevertheless endured pain and suffering on a scale few could imagine. There may be no visible marks left… but Carson could see the scars in the haunted look to Sheppard's eyes.
"How are you doing, son?"
"I'm good." Sheppard's voice was quiet but Carson couldn't help but notice how tightly his hands gripped the edge of the mattress. The man was clearly on edge, holding on to his control by dint of willpower alone. He kept his voice calm and soothing, allowing a hint of a smile to colour his words,
"With respect, Colonel, that's what you always say. You've been through a lot…"
"I'm fine, Carson." There was a hard edge to Sheppard's voice as he interrupted, a sour taste of bitterness as he muttered, almost to himself, "Better than ever, in fact."
"Okay, son." Carson's voice was sympathetic but firm. "I'd still like to check for myself though, if you don't mind." Sheppard's shoulders tensed and the Colonel looked for a brief moment as if he were about to say he did mind, but Carson stood firm, his expression making it clear that, no matter how he'd phrased it, this was not a request. He knew the very moment when Sheppard acquiesced, the Colonel seeming to collapse in on himself a little, some of the tension draining from his body as he gave in to the inevitability of a physical exam.
Nevertheless, Carson couldn't help but notice Sheppard's involuntary flinch as he stepped closer. He found himself biting down on a raging anger unlike any he had ever known, a fury that had been building in his gut ever since he had stood in the control room and watched his friend being tortured over live video link. The mere thought of the lines Kolya had crossed, the suffering he had caused, made Carson almost regret his Hippocratic oath; if the Genii commander had been before him right at that moment, Carson would have been hard pressed to stay true to his vow to do no harm.
He stayed where he was, letting the edgy Colonel get used to his proximity, and kept his voice calm and relaxed. "Why don't you take your jacket off, Colonel? The quicker we get this over and done with, the quicker you can get out of here and get some rest."
Sheppard's offered a weak grin but the smile didn't reach his eyes as he agreed absently, "Yeah. Some rest.." His movements were slow, hesitant, as he shrugged the leather jacket from his shoulders.
Carson busied himself with settling the stethoscope in his ears, warming the metal cup in his hands as Sheppard let the jacket drop to the bed behind him. When he looked up he found the Colonel staring absently into space, one hand unconsciously rubbing at his chest. Carson's stomach lurched.
"Colonel Sheppard?"
Sheppard snapped out of his daze with a visible start and Carson watched as the Colonel determinedly gathered himself, breathing out a long, deliberate breath as he dropped his hand to the mattress beside him. He nodded. "I'm good."
Carson's eyes lingered on Sheppard's hands, the Colonel's knuckles almost as white as the bedsheets as he gripped the mattress edge hard, but he kept any scepticism from his voice, making sure his movements were slow and telegraphed as he moved towards his patient.
"I'm just going to have a listen to your chest, son." He kept talking as he moved around the bed, informing Sheppard of what he was going to do before he did it, acutely aware of the tightly reined-in tension in the Colonel's body. "Just going to lift your shirt up here and put the stethoscope to your skin, Colonel." Sheppard didn't flinch as he laid the metal cup against the man's back but nonetheless Carson could feel the trembling of muscles through his hands, the Colonel's posture stiff and uncomfortable.
"A couple of deep breaths now, lad. That's it.."
Carson listened to Sheppard's lungs, moving the stethoscope around, keeping up his commentary as he did so.
"Just another couple of deep breaths for me. Okay. And one more.."
He let Sheppard's shirt drop and removed the stethoscope from his ears. "Well, your lungs sound just fine, Colonel. I'll want to check your temperature and blood pressure too and we could do with taking a blood sample or two. We understand so little about the effects of Wraith feeding on the human body…"
He could have kicked himself, his words tailing off as Sheppard visibly shuddered, the sheets twisting in his grip.
"I'm sorry, son. I didn't.."
"Can we just get this over and done with?" Sheppard's voice was rough and he kept his head turned to the wall as Carson moved around the bed once more.
"Aye, lad." Carson's worked quickly but methodically, making sure to warn Sheppard before he inserted the in-ear thermometer, avoiding any quick or unexpected movements as he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around the Colonel's arm. He noted his findings down on Colonel Sheppard's chart; temperature was fine, blood pressure a wee bit elevated but that was only to be expected given the Colonel's current stress level. The man seemed perfectly healthy. How on earth that was possible, given what they'd seen on the video feed, Carson could only imagine. There was so much they still didn't know about the Wraith feeding process and what it did to the human body.. they still didn't understand exactly how the Wraith drained life from a person and they had not even suspected that the process could be somehow reversed. What Sheppard needed more than anything, Carson felt, was time. Time to rest. Time to get a decent amount of sleep. And time to deal with what he had been through. He thought about suggesting that Sheppard see Heightmeyer but he already knew what the answer to that would be.
Having said that… Sheppard's arm was rigid in his grip as he pushed a needle carefully into a vein, the Colonel's head turned resolutely away to face the wall. Carson could feel the trembling tension in the man's limbs, see it in the rigidity of his posture. He could only imagine what it must have been like for Sheppard; to endure not only the agony of repeated feedings but also the endless hours inbetween with the knowledge of what awaited him, that Kolya would sacrifice more and more of his life to the hungry Wraith, killing him by inches, draining his life bit by bit until there was nothing left.
He pulled out the needle with a sigh, pressing a cotton pad to the small wound. "Have you considered talking to Kate..?"
"Are we done?" Sheppard was already hopping down off the bed, refusing to meet Carson's eyes as he instinctively bent his left arm up to hold the pad in place. Carson frowned.
"Not quite yet, Colonel."
Sheppard sighed in frustration, impatience evident in every line of his body.
Carson bit his lip. His words were quiet, his voice calm, but at his question Sheppard finally looked up. "Do you have any pain, son?"
Sheppard's eyes were haunted, his mask of unconcern stretched tight and thin over memories of pain and fear and more. "No." His voice was rough, the words almost catching in his throat. "I feel fine. I feel… strong." Carson nodded wordlessly, unable to break from that painful gaze.
It was Sheppard who blinked and looked away, and Carson swallowed as he watched the Colonel struggle to compose himself.
"Okay, son. We're done here.."
Sheppard was on his way to the door before Carson had even finished his sentence and the doctor was forced to call after him, "I suggest you go to your quarters and get some rest, Colonel.."
His answer was an acknowledging wave of a hand as Sheppard strode through the infirmary doors and without a backward glance. The doors slid shut with a hiss and Sheppard was gone from view, leaving Carson alone in the infirmary.
TBC…
