That Good Night

Cainwen: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy this interlude with our favorite flyboy and scottish doctor. There is some Disturbing material. Sensitive readers beware. Please Review
John Sheppard had been seen running almost obsessively all over Atlantis in the past weeks. Not that this was terribly surprising. He had escaped from Kolya with a wraith named Cullough, gone to a planet, hallucinated and shot his friends, and was dreaming the memories of the aforementioned wraith. That was a lot for anyone to take in a few weeks.

But today, he wasn't running along every catwalk, unused corridor and sparcly populated balcony in the city. Instead, he was sitting quietly on top of a tower in the southeast pier, gazing out at the ocean.

The fact that he hadn't stop in to see Rodney and Teyla in the infirmary, or met with Ronon to run was reason enough for Dr. Becket to coming looking for his second-most accident prone patient. The fact that no one could reach the flyboy on his radio was enough reason for Zelenka to use the internal sensors to find Sheppard for Becket.

And now Becket was standing behind Sheppard, watching, waiting to see if Sheppard would realize he was not alone.

"Hey Doc," he said tiredly, sadly.

"Hello Major," the Scot replied. "Wha' are yoo doing oop here?"

"Thinking" came the one word reply.

"Oh...what aboot?"

Sheppard turned around, and stared intently at Carson for a moment. "Carson, you ever want to die? I mean, really want to end it?"

Oh dear, he's feeling guilty, suicidal, better call Kate, the doctor immediately thought and reached for his earpiece.

"No no doc," Sheppard said, "Not me. Cullough."

"Cullough? The wraith?" Becket repeated, confused and sat down beside Sheppard.

"Yeah," the pilot replied distractedly. "It just hit me yesterday when I was running along the catwalks why he laughed before I stunned him. You know. It was like the dreams I have, but I was awake, except it was just raw emotion," Sheppard looked sharply at Carson. "He was hoping I'd kill him. The whole time, he was waiting till you all showed up and killed him...That's why he didn't put up a fight," he finished quietly.

Carson nodded slowly. "And yoo felt what he was feeling? Tha' desire to die?"

Sheppard chewed at the inside of his check and nodded. They were both silent for a moment.

"It was terrible," John finally said. "There was so much guilt and sadness and...self-hatred. He thinks of himself as a murderer, a torturer, a criminal derserving death."

The doctor studied his friend's face for a moment. "But yoo don't?"

John paused, then shook his head slowly. "No, I don't. I mean, yes, he fed on me, and I know I wasn't the first, but from everything he's showed me, it's as though he would rather have slit his own throat than feed on me or anyone else who didn't want to die."

Carson nodded again. John had shared with him the memories that Cullough had given him, included the memory of the feeding. Despite his initial revulsion at the mere thought at a feeding, after some thought, he had admit that it seemed to actually be a great kindness. Even the most advanced medicine can't cure every ill, and certainly not old age. A kind, quiet death after you were sure you had said goodbye to all you loved ones had a kind of quiet beauty to it.

"There was just such...a sorrow. He's been carrying so much guilt and grief for so many years... He'd been trying to die for centuries. He'd walked into Genii territory trying to get shot. He'd figured they'd shoot a lone wraith on sight. Instead, some brilliant, sadistic commander a couple of centuries ago realized what a great torture device a wraith would make. Just the threat of him would be enough to make most people give into his demands."

John locked eyes with Carson, trying to communicate more intensely what he was saying. "He'd slit his wrists--that's why they put the guards on his arms. He'd try to strangle himself with his chains--that why they put them behind him and didn't chain him to the wall. He tried to starve himself, refuse to feed. They put his hand on a person's chest and stabbed him--feeding was an autonomic response under those circumstances. He provoked them, hoping they'd go to far, but every time they would drag him back."

Sheppard, looked down quickly, and then out to sea. "He was waiting to die. He wanted that blast from Ronon's ray gun to be the last thing he felt in this life... He was terribly sad when he woke up again," he finished quietly.

TBC