A/N:- This is just a very short fic I wrote in response to the Shep H/C comm on LJ. I'm still not sure whether I like this myself or not but I thought I'd post it up here and let you all decide for yourselves, I'll be interested in hearing what you all think so thank you in advance for any feedback. And as always thank you to my beta, the fabulous Alipeeps.
Ghosts
By Pilgrim Soul
Once again he'd ended up in the infirmary. Nothing life threatening this time but he'd done enough damage that both he and Rodney had been confined to the infirmary for the last three days. Carson had planned on releasing them today but the Colonel had decided not to wait, practically running out of the infirmary bare footed and still dressed in his scrubs.
Elizabeth had never seen him lose his cool like that, it just didn't happen, John was the epitome of calm. She could count on her fingers the times she had heard him raise his voice in anger. His rage was slow burning and quiet and she had seen many a cocky grunt's swagger falter under the stare of those unnerving hazel eyes. And that made the scene she had just witnessed all the more difficult to comprehend. He'd not just shouted, he'd screamed and what she'd seen in those same eyes wasn't just anger but fear and panic.
The object of his venom had been a dying woman; her name was Kasia. For three days he had lain in a bed beside her, watching as the Atlantean doctors did all the could to ease her suffering and make the end of her life as comfortable as they could. Three days and then this. The cancer was untreatable. Carson had done all he could but it had spread too far and too fast.
The Atlantean medical team had managed to save many of the Genii scientists, treating the various forms of cancer that their atomic experiments had caused. But in this case there would be no happy ending. Things had gone wrong, the coup had only delayed the plans of the more radical Genii and again Atlantis found itself an enemy of the Genii people. This woman would die in an alien city far from her family and friends.
She hurried through the corridors of the quiet city, following in his wake until she found herself outside his quarters. No answer. She tried again, knowing he was in there, and when again she got no response she entered the darkened room.
"I hope you're decent." The figure hunched on the floor against the bed, still in hospital scrubs, didn't reply. John sat huddled on the floor, his forehead resting on his knees, which were pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped over the top of his head. "John? Do you want to tell me what that was all about?"
"I'm sorry." He didn't move and his voice was quiet and muffled.
"I'm not really the one you should be apologising to."
"I can't go back there." She stood awkwardly by the door, looking at him curled up on the floor. "I'm sorry I lost it but I can't go back."
"She deserves an apology. I know you've been through a lot at the hands of the Genii but…"
"She looks like her." The words tumbled out, almost merging into one, his voice thick, and she felt a tightening in her chest as she realised he'd been crying.
"She looks like who?" She stepped nearer to him and reached out a hand, unsure whether to touch him or not. "John?" Crouching down beside him, she gave in the urge to place her hand on his head, gently stroking back his hair. "Talk to me, please." He raised his head slightly, sniffing back tears, wiping his face with his hands.
"I just keep seeing her lying there instead. I don't want to remember her like that but it's all I can see now. It's so hard to remember what it was like before. Before she got sick she had really long hair, right down to her waist, but then…" His voice faltered and in the dim light she could see the tears glistening in his eyes. "We used to joke about it but I hated it; she looked so different - it made her ugly. That's a terrible thing to say isn't it?"
When she had first met him, Elizabeth had read through John's file more than once, looking for a clue as to who this man really was, but she'd soon realised she wouldn't find any answers in the empty words on the page. All she'd got was the cold hard facts. Mother: Sheppard nee Devlin, Kathleen Mary (deceased).
"I didn't understand how something that was supposed to make her better made her so sick." His brow furrowed as if he still didn't understand and his eyes shone with tears he had given up trying to hold back. "But it didn't make her better…they said it would fix her…but…I found her in her room…I couldn't wake her up and she was so cold, I got her a blanket…I tried…she was all alone."
"You were just a little boy."
She moved forward to hold him, wanting to comfort him, but he flinched away from her touch. He wiped his face with his sleeve and took in a deep breath. "Oh Jesus, look at me. I'm making a complete ass of myself."
"No. No, you're not." Standing up and heading for the bathroom, he washed his face in cold water and cleared his throat. "John?"
"I'm fine."
"It's okay to be upset. I'm your friend John, if you need to talk…"
He ran his fingers through his hair. "She just looks like her that's all…she just looks like her."
"You should have said something earlier. I can't imagine how painful it's been for you."
"It was a long time ago," he dismissed her comment. "It's been a bad week. I guess I'm in worse shape than I thought."
"John, you're only human. You're entitled to a little breakdown every now and then."
"Like I said it was a long time ago. You should go and apologise to …um…to Kasia and Carson. I'm going to take a shower and then I'll come myself." He lifted his eyes to her and she saw that the wall was back in place, his emotions tidied up and locked away, and not for the first time she found herself wondering if she would ever really know John Sheppard.
Fin.
