NOTE: We're ba-a-a-a-ck. This is a Phantoms tag that begins shortly after they get back to Atlantis. We hope you enjoy! Obviously there are spoilers for Phantoms.
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HAUNTED - Part 1
John was tired. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt as tired as he did now. His body felt almost sluggish, his head ached, his stomach felt twisted into knots and yet he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep.
Getting through the debrief with Elizabeth had been tough. Keeping focused on her and on what he was saying had made John's head hurt. After a time she took his distraction as concern for Rodney, going so far as to contact Beckett and ask him about Rodney's condition. John had been glad to learn that Rodney was fine and sleeping. After all, the gun shot wound had been a deep graze and not life threatening.
Making himself focus after that, John had made it through the debriefing, promising Elizabeth that he would give her more details in his report. Or rather, as much detail as he could. He wasn't about to tell her about his hallucinations. That was information she didn't need to know beyond the bare minimum.
That John hadn't been alone in his hallucinations didn't make him feel better. He knew Ronon would deal with what happened just fine and Rodney had seemed almost fascinated by it. Carson was feeling messed up, that John had clearly seen and he thought maybe he'd try and talk to the Doc about it sometime. Maybe. Right now all he wanted to do was shower and make an attempt at sleeping.
To that end, John made it to his room. He had just stripped down to step into the shower when his ear piece beeped. John grabbed it and wasn't all that surprised to find Carson on the other end. "How's it going, Doc?" John asked.
"You tell me, Colonel," Carson replied. "Are you all right?"
"Peachy." It was an automatic response and John was glad Beckett wasn't there to see him rubbing his temples. He needed a double dose of Tylenol something fierce.
"You're supposed to stop in for your post mission check, Colonel," Carson stated. "I'm waiting on you."
John heaved a sigh. "Can we do it in the morning? I'm halfway in the shower and ready to crawl into bed." He figured if he added the bed part, Beckett would let him off the hook.
But no such luck. "You'll come in or I'll come there," Carson replied, firmly. "Your choice, Colonel."
"Give me fifteen minutes," John countered. "I need a shower first."
"Fifteen minutes," Carson allowed. "But if you blow me off I will send Ronon to fetch you." That said, the Scotsman clicked off.
"Great," John muttered to himself, setting the radio aside. He headed into the bathroom and turned the water on. A moment later he stepped under the hot spray and felt some of the weariness washing away. Sadly, it didn't last. By the time he got out, dried off and pulled on sweat pants and a t-shirt, John was swaying on his feet. He actually felt a bit dizzy and caught himself with a hand on the wall. Nausea followed the dizziness and he ended up on his knees next to the toilet, but he didn't puke, he just gagged up some bile.
John figured there was nothing to bring up since he couldn't remember the last time he ate. Not that he was hungry. The pounding ache in his temples made just the thought of food nauseating. Rising to his feet, John made his way to the sink and rinsed his mouth before brushing his teeth. He checked his reflection and winced. Carson was going to know by looking at him that he felt like shit, but there was nothing for it. John knew he had to go to the infirmary or Carson would follow through on his threat and send Ronon to get him.
Cursing to himself, John sat down to pull on socks and sneakers. He thought about changing into uniform pants or jeans, but figured it wasn't worth the bother. He wasn't on duty and he didn't intend to be long in the infirmary. A quick check and he'd be back in his room, not sleeping. Although maybe he could get Beckett to give him something without being too obvious about it.
Rising to his feet, John felt a head rush and sat back down till it passed. He knew he needed to eat something and maybe he'd grab a bite after his exam. A bit of food and some sleep and he'd be better. Rising again, John felt more steady so he headed out. He made it to the infirmary without further complications and he grimaced to see Beckett hovering in the doorway, waiting for him.
"I told you I'd come," John said, feeling a bit irritated when Beckett grabbed his arm and practically dragged him over to the corner bed.
"You've lied before," Carson responded, patting the bed for John to sit.
"Not intentionally," John shot back. "I'd just get sidetracked by things sometimes." It was a weak protest but he felt compelled to make it. A hand on his back nudged him towards the bed and John pulled himself on to it. He had to resist the urge to pout while Carson did his thing.
While taking John's pulse, Carson tutted a bit.
That made John nervous. "What?" he demanded.
"A bit thready," Carson replied. He grabbed his pen light, gripped John by the chin and shone his light in his eyes. He didn't look happy when John winced and tried to pull away. "Headache?"
"Just a little one. Nothing a couple of aspirin won't cure." John plastered a fake smile on his face as he spoke and tried to look sincere. He was pretty sure he failed. Then Carson was checking his heart and lungs before turning away to scribble on his chart. John took the opportunity to slide off the bed, only he kept going, hitting the floor when his knees buckled.
He heard Carson call his name, then the lights went out.
THE END...of part one
