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.

This is the tag fic for Echoes – and for once I didn't have to strain my brain to fit whump into this one! Woohoo:) There will be one more chapter to follow, dealing with the infirmary scenes and the breakout..

As ever, all reviews and feedback gratefully received.

SPOILERS FOR ECHOES!

The headache hit out of the blue. One minute he was calmly controlling the jumper through a gentle descent towards the circling whales, the next moment sudden, sharp pain swelled behind his eyes, a tight feeling of pressure painful enough to have him take a hand from the controls, rubbing futilely at the source of the ache.

McKay was busy talking as Sheppard grimaced involuntarily but even the usually self-absorbed scientist couldn't miss the quick gesture as Sheppard pressed a hand briefly to his brow, taking his attention from the ship's controls, and Sheppard could hear the undertone of sharp concern in McKay's voice as he asked what was wrong. According to Carson, Sheppard had what would be considered a high tolerance for pain. As far as John was concerned, it was more a matter of practicality; a solider couldn't afford to be distracted by pain or injury. His usual habit was to grin and bear it unless and until he felt he needed medical intervention. For all McKay's usual scorn for Sheppard's "bone-headed stubbornness", John knew the fact that he'd visibly reacted to pain had unnerved his friend.

He made an excuse, shrugging off McKay's concern as he refocused his attention on controlling the Ancient craft, but the pain did not abate and it was a struggle to ignore it and concentrate on the controls. He was aware of McKay's look of confusion but he resolutely focused his attention on the viewscreen and found Rodney doing the same as they belatedly realised that the whales were nowhere in sight.

"Where'd they go?"

Sheppard leaned forward in his seat, determinedly ignoring the throb of pain at his temples as he peered through the viewscreen. "I don't know.." He sat back abruptly, surprised and not a little awed, as the entire screen filled with whale and an eye almost as big as he was floated by, the pupil contracting as the jumper's searchlights hit it. His headache kicked up a notch as Zelenka, a little late off the mark, radioed to say they were right on top of the whales. Pain frayed his patience and he couldn't hide the note of exasperation in his voice as he told the Czech, "Yeah, we're well aware of that!"

He turned to McKay, only to see the scientist hunched over in his seat, his face screwed up in pain, raising a shaky hand to his face. He frowned, ignoring his own pain as concern tightened in his chest. "What's wrong?"

McKay was pale, shaky, and his voice trembled a little as he admitted, "Now my head's hurting too."

A thrill of fear ran through him. "That's not a coincidence." This was getting serious. They needed to get out of here. "I'm pulling back." The feeling of tight pressure spiked in his temples as he focused on the controls, backing the jumper quickly away from the whales and turning it around.

He pressed his lips together as Zelenka chattered over the radio, something about the whales' echo location system. He really couldn't care less about that right now, his headache was getting worse and he could hear more than just irritation in McKay's voice as he snapped at the Czech scientist. "Yes Radek. We are moving away. Try to keep up.!"

"Oh, my!" That didn't sound good at all.

His frustration increasing along with the pain in his head, Sheppard queried shortly, "Oh, my what?"

Radek sounded surprised and not a little concerned as he told them, "I'm detecting several more whales."

That definitely didn't sound good. "How many more?" McKay demanded.

"Dozens more." He and Rodney were silent, staring out through the viewscreen at the depths of ocean surrounding their tiny craft as Zelenka explained, "They're still several kilometres away from you but.. they're heading towards you."

Sheppard didn't like the sound of that at all. Proximity to just two whales was giving him one hell of a headache and there were dozens more headed right for them? He threw a worried look at McKay and from Rodney's expression knew he was thinking the same thing. They really needed to get out of here. He was turning back to the controls when something caught his eye and he looked back at McKay, concern turning to outright fear as he saw bright red blood on his friend's upper lip.

"Rodney…" Sheppard was no doctor but he knew that a sudden nosebleed, combined with an unexplained headache, could not be good news at all.

"What?"

"Your nose is bleeding."

Confused, McKay pressed a hand to his face, surprise and disgust registering on his face as he saw the blood on his fingers. Sheppard watched in helpless concern as, with a grimace, Rodney tipped his head back, his fingers putting pressure on his nose to try and stem the flow of blood. What had started out as a fun little diversion, a reason to take the jumper out for a jaunt underwater, was rapidly turning into a disaster. A frown of determination on his face, Sheppard turned his full attention to the jumper controls, the little craft picking up speed as it reacted to the urgency of his thoughts.

There was no sign of the whales now; they were heading in the opposite direction, back towards the city, leaving the huge sea-creatures behind them. Yet his headache wasn't getting any better and brief glances across to the co-pilot seat showed Rodney still with his head tipped back, pain twisting his features as he breathed heavily through his mouth. Dammit. They were in real trouble here. Sheppard was beginning to feel not a little amount of fear mixed in with the urgent need to get McKay and himself back to safety. If the whales' echo location was what caused the headaches, shouldn't the pain be lessening as they moved away from them? His own head was still pounding and McKay really wasn't doing well at all…

"John, this is Elizabeth. How are you holding up?"

Sheppard grimaced as, in the seat beside him, McKay leant forward, his fingers still pressed to the bridge of his nose as he hunched over painfully. The pressure at his temples was becoming excruciating and, much as he would have liked to be more reassuring, Sheppard couldn't keep the tension from his voice as he responded, "Other than feeling like my head's about to explode, I'm fine!" He kept his focus on controlling the craft, wondering vaguely if it was possible for his head to explode. Well, maybe not his head, but it sure felt like his brain was trying to.

His heart sank as a whale appeared from nowhere, its huge body filling the viewscreen as it swam up and over the jumper. In another time and place, and without the teeth-grinding pain in his head, it would have been a majestic sight. Right now…

"I thought we were moving away from them!" McKay's words were low and frustrated, his voice thick with pain, cracking as tension tightened his throat.

"I'm trying to but they're cutting us off!" Fear made Sheppard's words come out clipped and angry but Rodney wasn't listening anyway. He slumped forward in his seat, letting out an inarticulate groan of pain as he pressed a hand to his forehead. Sheppard felt himself sway a little in his seat and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his concentration on flying the jumper as his head swam dizzily. He swallowed back a surge of nausea as Elizabeth's concerned voice echoed in the enclosed cabin.

"What happened?"

Sheppard struggled to focus. "Whales are getting way too close," he muttered.

There was a quiet choking sound from his right and he looked across just as McKay's head hit the console in front of him. Icy fear clenched in his gut as he stared helplessly at his friend's slumped body. Rodney was motionless, clearly unconscious, and was that..? "Oh crap!"

"John, what's going on there?" Elizabeth was started to sound panicked now and he couldn't blame her. This situation had gone from bad to worse and was now rapidly approaching disaster status. They were out of time; he had to get them out of there, right now. Determination made him focus his concentration despite the pain, made his words sound a lot calmer and steadier than he felt.

"Rodney's passed out and his ears are bleeding. We've gotta get out of the water."

He held tight to the controls, feeling the nimble craft respond as much to his thoughts as to his manual input. The pain swam and surged in his head, the sensation of pressure so intense that he actually heard it as a dull roaring in his ears, muffling what he thought might have been a voice over the radio. The pressure was making his ears ache as well as his head and he pressed a hand to his right ear, scrunching his face up as sharp pain spiked again in his temples. His hand came away from his ear wet and he looked in disbelief and fear at the smear of red on his fingers. The dull roaring in his ears was constant now and he realised with dismay that sound was muffled, even the building hum of the jumper's engines tinny and distant. Breathing heavily, his heart pounding in his chest, he grabbed hold of the controls and poured every last ounce of stamina he had left into one sole, single idea. Up. Up. Up. Responding to his desperate thoughts, the jumper made a turn sharp enough to make his stomach lurch and raced for the surface in a vertical trajectory. He hung onto the controls for dear life, his body betraying him as the pain in his head made his limbs tremble.

The ocean rushed past the viewscreen as the jumper ascended, the water becoming clearer, the colour changing from deep blue to azure to pale turquoise, and then sunlight flooded the cockpit as they broke the surface, water streaming from the viewscreen as the small craft shot upwards, leaving the ocean behind far, far below.

Slowly, perceptibly, Sheppard felt the pressure in his skull ease; his head was still pounding but it was at least marginally bearable now and he found himself able to think coherently beyond the need to just get away, get to safety. Rodney was still slumped forward in his seat, his head resting against the so-pilot console, and Sheppard's gut tightened with worry for his friend. He swallowed a couple of times, and stretched his jaw, trying to relieve the blocked sensation in his ears, but his hearing remained muffled and the roaring in his ears did not clear. He realised he couldn't hear the radio anymore and wondered if Atlantis had stopped calling him or if, as was more likely, he just couldn't hear them. He'd have to hope they could still hear him. "We're out of the water, Rodney's in trouble. Have a medical team ready!"

He pulled at the controls, swinging the jumper around and heading back towards the city. He was careful to maintain a high altitude approach, staying well clear of the water, not wanting to get any closer to the congregating whales than was necessary. The little craft sped towards the city, the urgency of his desire to get help for Rodney seeming to spur the engines to greater speeds.

The strain of the constant, throbbing pain in his head was beginning to wear him down, tension and fatigue making his arms tremble slightly as he guided the jumper carefully towards the open bay roof. The necessity of descending towards the city, bringing him that much closer to sea level, had caused a corresponding increase in the painful pressure in his skull and it was an effort to concentrate on the flight controls, his brow creased in pain and determination as he struggled to manoeuvre the jumper smoothly. He had never felt so relieved as when the small craft settled firmly onto the landing pad and he could let go of the controls, relax his mental focus.

Tired and aching as he felt, there was no time to rest; he hit the ramp control as soon as the jumper touched down and, even as the rear hatch descended, he was pulling himself from his chair, concern for Rodney churning his stomach. He hadn't been able to check on his friend, not even to lean over and reassure himself that he was still breathing, all his focus and concentration required just to fly the damn jumper, to get both of them out of trouble. His head swam sickeningly as he stood up, his knees threatening to buckle, but he locked his legs stubbornly and took two lurching steps to bring him to McKay's side.

Rodney was limp, his face pressed against the console, his skin ashen. Blood was leaking from his right ear. Sheppard pressed a trembling hand to his friend's neck, relieved to find his skin warm and a firm pulse beating beneath his fingertips. He breathed out heavily, feeling fatigue overwhelm him. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped, startled, nearly toppling over as he spun to find Carson standing right behind him. The doctor grabbed his arms, keeping him upright, and his lips moved but the sound was muffled, unintelligible.

Finding his balance, Sheppard shook off Carson's concerned grip and gestured to McKay; he could barely hear himself speak, his own voice sounding muffled and distorted as he listed his friend's symptoms. "He had a headache and a nosebleed then he passed out and he's bleeding from his ears…" Sheppard registered Carson's involuntary flinch as he spoke and realised belatedly that he must be shouting. He grimaced and tried to say "Sorry," at a quieter volume but it was impossible to judge when he couldn't hear himself and Carson waved his apology aside with a pained smile, turning his attention to Rodney.

The interior of the jumper was getting a little cramped as Beckett's medical team crowded in behind him, two doctors rolling a gurney up into the rear compartment. Sheppard's head was still pounding and now that the drama was over and he'd gotten them home, he was beginning to feel more than a little wobbly. Beckett was leaning over Rodney, absorbed in examining his patient, and Sheppard took advantage of his preoccupation to lurch back to the pilot's seat, keeping a tight hold of the console until he could lower himself gratefully back into his seat. Thankful that Rodney was receiving the medical attention he needed, Sheppard allowed himself to relax a little, closing his eyes as he rubbed a hand tiredly across his aching forehead.

He was concentrating on breathing, a slow, steady in and out of breath, doing his best to ignore the thrum of pain in his skull, when a gentle nudge to his shoulder startled him out of his fugue to find Carson peering down at him, a look of concern on his face. He watched in frustration as the doctor's lips moved soundlessly. Beckett frowned and his mouth opened wider, obviously shouting, as he tried again. This time Sheppard could make out the words, tinny and muffled through the roaring noise in his ears, "Let's get you to the infirmary, son."

Confused, he peered past Beckett to see the co-pilot's seat was empty. When did that happen? He tried to modulate his voice as he asked Carson, "McKay?" but his friend still winced a little before shouting in return, "On his way to the infirmary. He's going to be fine."

Sheppard nodded briefly and instantly regretted the motion as his headache spiked painfully, making him suck in his breath. Getting out of the chair was surprisingly difficult, Carson's hands steadying him as he wobbled and swayed. He realised with a shock that this wasn't just fatigue.. whatever the hell that whale sonar had done to his hearing seemed to have affected his balance too. A thread of fear tightened his chest as he wondered how much damage had been done – and how permanent it was. He didn't have time to worry about that as he quickly found that being upright did absolutely nothing for the painful pressure in his head and he found himself leaning heavily on Carson as the throbbing in his temples increased, making his vision grey out for a moment.

They wobbled down the rear hatch together, and for once Sheppard felt quite crappy enough that he didn't protest when he found a second gurney waiting along with the remainder of Beckett's team and a concerned Elizabeth. He gave her a shaky grin as Carson steered him towards the gurney. He hated riding around on these things but the way his head was feeling right now, he doubted he'd make it as far as the door on foot, let alone the infirmary. What he wouldn't give right now for a couple of Tylenol and a whole lot of sleep. He scooted onto the gurney himself, a couple of nurses grabbing for him when he wobbled and would have fallen off again, and slumped gratefully back against the firm mattress, pressing his hands to his face and rubbing tiredly at his eyes. His head throbbed and swam angrily and he felt oddly disconnected from his surroundings, the muffled, distorted roar in his ears surrounding him in white noise, cutting him off from communication.

He opened his eyes again to find Elizabeth gazing down at him from beside the gurney, Carson hovering beside her, his lips moving as he gestured at his half-deaf patient, apparently updating her on just what a mess Sheppard had managed to make of himself this time. Her face showed her concern and he remembered the note of panic in her voice the last time he'd heard it over the radio. It made him wonder just how many times after that she'd tried to contact the jumper, only to get silence in return. "You okay?" he asked and saw her smile despite wincing at the volume. She nodded, saying something that registered only as a faint buzz through the muffled roar in his ears, and then the gurney was moving, carrying him away towards the infirmary. Sheppard closed his eyes, feeling a frown crease his face as the motion of the gurney seemed to intensify his throbbing headache. He was almost looking forward to a nice, comfortable – unmoving – infirmary bed.

TBC...