Sheppard can't escape torture even when he's supposed to be safe on Atlantis.
It had all started on an unassuming city that the denizens of said planet called 'Sentari Bay'. Oh, it had been a charming place. The gate was kept in a large temple that was the headpiece of Sentari. The priests there had been surprised, certainly, when Major John Sheppard and his team had stepped through the gate, but had otherwise greeted them with hospitality. They had been ushered to the dinner table of the High King, who governed with a fair and mighty fist, or so they claimed. And a fine feast the Lanteans had, too.
Unfortunately, a little way through dinner the High King decided that a more binding relationship with Atlantis might be a good thing for his people. And he offered the hand of his daughter Kaerie to Sheppard in the way of solidifying the union of the two peoples. Now John was no stranger to the ladies, but as any man of his age and upbringing, he had a healthy respect for getting to know a woman before becoming, as the High King called it, the 'Master of her House'.
Sheppard could tell by that evil glint in McKay's eyes that he was going to be the recipient of a fair amount of teasing later on. As aggravating as that prospect was, it wasn't to be the worst of his worries. Sheppard very politely, or so he thought anyway, declined the High King's most generous offer. Kaerie was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that. And the way she eyed the Major didn't exactly suggest she was against the idea. But all in all, a little getting-to-know-you time was called for.
Kaerie's eyes had gone icy. The room fell silent. McKay ignored the sudden tension brewing and took another bite of his meat.
Pandemonium broke loose like a flood lashing out upon a small town.
To say that there had been a brawl was a vast understatement. When the guards came down on the party and by the end everyone could boast of blood, scratches and bruises. John, much to his embarrassment, had taken a little bit stronger of a beating than he would have liked. That's not to say he didn't put on a valiant effort. He could still kick ass with the best of them, after all.
Maybe it had been an off day. Yeah. That had to be it. An off day. Nothing to worry about.
He supposed he should be thankful that Ford had gotten to his stolen weapon in time, else they might all be dead. Or worse, on public display so the people of Sentari could throw food. (This had been one of the High King's first promises after the scuffle began.)
So now John sat in bed in the infirmary sporting a black eye, sprained ankle, and a nice cut across his shoulder blade. It could be worse, he reflected, staring at the wall with an expression of boredom.
Carson, that demented little twerp. He wouldn't let Sheppard go and recuperate in the comfort of his own quarters, no matter how much John promised he wouldn't even attempt to do anything resembling work. He was standing there across the room with his little doctor toys, for the world not looking at John's impatient expression.
Overstressed? Overworked? John Sheppard? Yeah, he and about 99 of Atlantis. John sighed and settled back against his cot. The least Beckett could do is give him a sucker. All the good doctor's had sweets in their office to comfort their patients with. But no. Not Carson Beckett.
"Hey!" John called, waving his arm to get the doctor's attention. Beckett looked up from a notepad, one eyebrow raised. "What if I contacted you over the radio every hour so you could make sure I was still in my quarters?"
The doctor looked back down at his work. "I don' think so, lad. I told ya I'm goin' ta monitor yer blood pressure, an' how long it takes ya ta fall asleep, an' ta do that you're goin' ta have ta be here."
"That's the last time I admit to having a little, and I stress that, little trouble sleeping," John folded his arms in front of him. "We all have trouble now and then. So I'll cut down on coffee and you can shoot me up with some Ambien. Come on, Doc."
Carson cocked his head. "Humor me, would ya? Just try ta relax."
The doctor sat down at a nearby desk, pouring over his notes, and John counted bottles of pills behind a glass cabinet door across the way. Beside him was a tray that was annoyingly devoid of the desert he had polished off about a half hour ago, so there was no distraction there. Unless…
John swiped the napkin from the surface, ripped one of the corners off and balled it up. He spent an elaborate time rolling it until it was perfect, then set it down on his stomach to admire his handiwork.
There it was. A mostly round ball of white paper. He entertained a private fantasy of painting a face on it and calling it 'Wilson', but decided that was just overdoing things.
So he threw it instead, aiming straight for Carson's head.
The little ball hit Carson's temple with a papery little thwack, then bounced off and hit the floor. The second one John forged and tossed hit its target and managed to stick in the doctor's gelled, pointy hair. The pad went down and Beckett's eyes rolled for a second before he turned to give Sheppard a look.
"It's boring in here," John complained in his own defense. He smirked. "You know this is going to continue until you let me leave."
"Ya want somethin' ta do?" Beckett asked, and instinctively the Major knew something decidedly parental was coming next. The physician pointed. "Why don' ya go take a look on those shelves back there? There's some Ancient devices I canna make heads or tails of. There's a chair there."
For a long moment Sheppard just stared at Beckett as the doctor went back to his work. A closet full of mystery items, eh? Well, it beat sitting around tracing imaginary lines with your eyes.
John pulled himself off the bed, took the crutches Carson had given him, and hobbled his way to the closet in question. Pulling the chair over, he took a seat and looked at the array of technology before him. "You don't know what any of them do?"
Beckett looked up briefly. "Some I can guess, but a few are a complete mystery. Tried ta have Rodney take a look, but I s'pose medical technology isn't very high on his lost o'priorities."
John grunted and picked up a small cylindrical thingamajig, turning it around in his grasp. There was a small touch pad on the bottom that, when he placed his thumb on it, made the other end light up. It was a rather anticlimactic discovery, he thought. The least these Ancients could have done was left a few Gameboys lying around.
Several devices later he picked up something that perked his interest. It wasn't a very big item, just something that strapped to your palm, but when he put it on it gave off a very potent vibration that made him do a double take. The hum of its motion filled the air, drawing Carson's attention away from his work. "What'd ya find, lad?"
John lifted his quivering arm to show the doctor. "Some sort of, I don't know, massage device?"
Beckett got up from the desk and approached to get a better look. "I been wonderin' about that one," he commented, watching in fascination. "It wouldna activate for me, nor Rodney when I badgered him to try it on."
"Must be the gene strength," John replied thoughtfully. He smiled innocently. "C'mere."
"Ah, no." Carson took a few steps backward.
"I just want to try something."
"Forget it."
John stuck his tongue out. "You ruin all my fun." He sighed, holding his shaking hand out and watching it bob. "What do you think it's for?"
The doctor reached tentatively towards the device, turned John's hand palm up and knit his brow in thought. "Well, knowin' the Ancients, who knows? It might be as ya say, but that's an awful hard vibration setting for something as trivial as back tension. Maybe…"
An urgent beeping caused the doctor to trail off. Both men peered down at the device. The vibrations grew more intense, so much so John couldn't keep his arm straight. "Okay, this is seriously weirding me out." He reached for the strap.
The sudden crackling noise was an ominous sign, he knew. His fingers didn't even hit the strap before a jolt shot through his arm and spread across his body like wild fire. The force of it knocked him back off his chair and to the cold, hard floor. The air was forced out of his lungs momentarily and he saw stars.
"John!" Carson called out, dropping to his knees beside the Major. He pulled the device off and the vibrations went dead. "Lad, are ya a'right?"
John looked at Carson and said simply, "Ow."
The doctor shook his head in dismay. "Lord, lad, if I'd have even thought any o'these things'd be dangerous, I woulda never asked." He took Sheppard by the arm, pulling him into a seated position. "How ya feelin'?"
"A little…" John shook his head, blinking his eyes to get the stars out of them. "I feel weird."
"A'right," Beckett said, taking hold of him. "Up ya go and back ta bed."
When the two men reached full height John discovered he couldn't even stand on his good leg. His body felt like jelly and he slid through the doctor's arms like he had been poured out of a Smucker's jar. Luckily, Carson caught him before he hit the ground again.
Sheppard wasn't sure how he got there, really, but after a minute he realized he was being lifted and stretched out on his gurney. He moaned as a wave of nausea passed through him. Whatever that device did was not good. Not good at all.
A stethoscope was pressed against his chest even as he was hooked up to a heart monitor. Carson listened intently, lines of tension creasing his forehead. "Heart's racin'," he said to a nurse that had come to aid him. He shook his head. "We need ta get that down stat."
Carson rushed across the room, leaving the nurse by Sheppard's side. "How are you feeling, Major?" she asked in a tone of forced calm.
John looked up at her with the hope that the spinning would stop long enough for him to focus. He groaned and fell back against the bed, wrapping his arms across his chest. "Pain," was all he could tell her.
"Dr. Beckett!" she called urgently. John was aware of her fingers pressed against his wrist.
"We need ta hook up an EKG," Carson said, coming back into Sheppard's field of vision. For the briefest of moments their eyes met and John could see the worry written in his friend's eyes.
He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what it was when he tried. Not that he could speak anyway. His breath was coming too short and fast. John felt his cheeks flush and then there was nothing but darkness.
By the time he woke up the infirmary was darker, the staff was considerably cut down and a form slumped over the nearby desk suggested Carson had fallen asleep. John inhaled a deep breath, surprised he was able. It felt nice, actually, except then he noticed he had oxygen tubes attached to his nose. He lifted his arm to fiddle with it and saw he was also sporting a nice new IV. Wonderful.
He closed his eyes and listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor near him. It sounded steady, if a little quick. There was still heaviness in his chest that made him want to curl into himself, but he knew that was impossible given all the tubes running this way and that.
A noise across the room drew his attention and he looked up. Another form entered the room on swift feet that carried him to where Carson was. He was poised to rouse the doctor from his slumber, but then noticed John's watchful gaze and threw his head back in surprise.
John waved weakly and the physicist jogged over. "Whoa, Carson said he was just keeping an eye on you. What the hell?"
"We had a little problem," John replied, though to him the events of earlier seemed like a distant, albeit bad, dream.
"I'll say." Rodney shook his head. "You look like crap."
"Thanks." Sheppard closed his eyes again.
A sleepy voice from the desk joined in their conversation at that point. "Rodney, what are ya doin' here?" Carson asked, stretching tired muscles and getting to his feet. The moment he was within reach of the ailing Major, he started checking the readouts.
"I just got done with some work and wanted to know if you were still up," McKay said, then moved back to the subject at hand. "What happened to Sheppard? Surely the Sentari guards didn't do this to him."
"No, unfortunately, I did," the doctor replied softly.
John opened his eyes. "It wasn't your fault. I was bored."
Rodney spread his hands. "What? Did you try to escape and Carson beat you up or something? Anyone wanna tell me what happened?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "As if." He tried to shift his position and found his limbs wouldn't cooperate. This attempt hadn't missed Carson's gaze and a flicker of guilt flashed across his face. "It was nothing," John insisted. "Was just poking around some Ancient devices over there and one of them freaked out on me."
"Whoa, those things?" Pointing across the way, Rodney took on an irritated look. "Carson, I said I'd get to them."
The doctor sighed, but declined to respond. John absently rubbed at his chest. "Well, Rodney. Go on over there. Bet you can't guess which one did this to me before it hits you too." He grinned.
The other man's eyes narrowed to slits. "Funny." McKay turned back to Carson and asked the question on Sheppard's mind as well. "So, is he okay now?"
"Aye." Carson nodded as he looked down at Sheppard. "You'll be a'right, I think. Gave me quite the scare earlier when your pulse quickened like that, and then ya fainted…"
"I didn't faint," John amended, watching as Rodney wandered towards the devices.
The Scot pursed his lips. "When ya fell unconscious, then? That make ya happy? Anyway, you're havin' a wee case of tachycardia still, but it's definitely improving with time and rest. As far as I can tell there's nothin' permanent wrong. The device, whatever it was, gave ya a little jumpstart, so ta speak. I'm guessin' it's not for back massage, lad." He gave a pale smile.
John mirrored that, shaking his head. "No, the vibration was a building charge. The more I find these little tidbits out about the Ancients, the more I think they weren't all they were cracked up to be. I…"
A familiar hum filled the air. Both the Major and the doctor turned towards Rodney with wide eyes. "Lad!" Carson barked, rushing around Sheppard's bed. "Take that off now!"
Startled, Rodney jerked the device off his palm and backed off as the doctor scooped it up. "You left it out?" he asked irritably.
"Ya ought ta know better than ta go puttin' things on yerself," Beckett admonished him. "Did that little incident with the shield teach ya nothin', then?" He shoved the device into his pocket.
The two men wandered back to John's side. After giving Rodney a teasing look, he said, "So, I guess I'm going to be here longer than I thought?"
Carson nodded with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, lad, but yes. I'm pretty sure that you'll be right as rain in a few days, a week tops, but I canna let ya outta here yet, I'm afraid."
"Well, that's comforting." John laid his head back and gazed at the ceiling. He looked down at himself. "Can I at least have my clothes back? I hate this hospital garb."
The doctor blanched momentarily. "Well, see lad, I had ta cut the shirt off ya ta be able ta hook the equipment up ta ya. I could go ta your quarters, if ya'd like?"
John rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't do any good. I've been rough on my wardrobe, if you hadn't noticed."
McKay knit his brow. "What are you saying?"
"That was my last shirt." The ailing Major smirked at the irony. "I guess this isn't my week. 'Course, it'll give the girls something to look at."
"Oh, hell no." With angry eyes and a huff in his tone, Rodney shook his head. "No, no, no. You're wearing a shirt. I don't care if I have to rip one off my own back and stuff it over your head, pal, you're not wandering around here topless so that we can watch all the girls gawk."
Sheppard waved the other man away. "It was just a thought."
"Well, think again." McKay crossed his arms over his chest. "Come on, Carson. We'll go grab something to eat and then I'll get Major Kirk here something to wear."
John coughed. "Carson ain't going anywhere."
Both men looked down and said, "What?" at the same time.
The Major shrugged his shoulder with a lazy smile. "Fair is fair. If you had just let me go, I would be safe and sound in my own room. As it is, you're keeping me locked up in here and I demand entertainment."
The doctor cocked his head to the side. "Lad, ya need ta rest, not be entertained."
"I'm not sleepy."
"Ya will be."
John stretched his unfettered arm back and pillowed it behind his head. "Tell me a story."
Beckett set his jaw. "I'm no' tellin' ya no bloody story."
"Carson."
"John."
"Carson."
The doctor held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed. "It's goin' ta be a long week."
Sheppard threw a sly look at the physician. "Oh, I'll make sure of that."
Just a bit of fun for my dear friend, Karri. Happy Birthday, girlie!!!!
Author: Ruse
Email: angelruseATgmailDOTcom
Disclaimer: I don't own them!