When they returned to Destiny, Young was waiting for them.
"Colonel," Scott greeted him and stopped. Both looked at Rush, who shoved past them without saying a word and disappeared in the direction of the bridge, followed by Eli and Melody.
"Have you found something else, Lieutenant?" the CO asked after the trio left the Gateroom.
Scott shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The cruiser was technically on a level with the SOFIA, the Stratospheric Observatory For Infrared Astronomy on earth. Any weapons they might have had aren't any better than our own."
"I see. Does Dr. Rush have an explanation for the major difference in technology between the cruiser and the larger ship?"
"No, Sir. He's as puzzled as we are, but he's probably hoping to find an answer in the downloaded data."
"Then let him have his fun. In the meantime it's best we have a look at the weapons we found."
"Did you test them already?" Matt asked, curious.
"No, it's best to wait until the next time we stop at a gate. We don't want to blow a hole in the outer hull by accident. Who knows what these weapons are capable of."
"So what do we do with them in the meantime, if we can't test them?" the lieutenant asked, disappointed.
"Try to figure out which button is responsible for what, Lieutenant," the CO replied with a smile.
Scott really couldn't see a point to that, but followed the Colonel without complaint.
An hour later Young also came to the conclusion that it would be more effective to actually test the weapons rather than guess at what they could do. Aside from that, he was suffering again from the permanent headache he had been experiencing for weeks now, since the visit to the planet where they'd encountered the hallucinogenic plants.
"Lieutenant, let's call it a day. Have yourself a nice evening," Young said, being careful not to distort his face.
Scott accepted gladly – he wanted to have dinner with Chloe and was afraid to postpone it.
"Thank you, Sir. Good night."
Young waited until Scott had left, then he moaned, sat down on a box, and massaged his forehead. It had been difficult for him in the last hour to concentrate on the weapons. He had caught himself with his mind wandering to Brody's distillery. He told himself it would be best not to have a drink today, but the little devil in him whispered that one little drink wouldn't hurt. One was nothing. And Young took it as an excuse to silence his guilty conscience.
Before the trouble with the A.I., he often drank one or two glasses an evening, but after his nightmare scenario, he had been in the bar every night, either sitting there alone getting drunk or taking a bottle back to his quarters to empty. That way at least he would wake up in his own bed rather than some section of the ship he'd never set foot in before. He didn't know if the crew had noticed anything, but frankly he didn't care. What could they do to him? They needed him, and any court martial was billions of lightyears away. Everett sighed. What has become of me? he thought, and shook his head. He had never let himself go like he was now, he had always been careful about what kind of man he would become.
This all happened because of that fucking A.I. There had to be a way of getting rid of her for good!
Frustrated, the Colonel stood up and left for the bar. He desperately needed a drink to distract himself from his dark thoughts. And he had to get rid of this headache.
Just one, Everett, he said to himself.
He took a bottle and glass from behind the bar. When he looked up, he was looking directly into a pair of familiar, bright green eyes.
"A little sip before bedtime, Everett?" Tamara asked quietly, giving him a sad look.
"I just… wanted to make sure everything was all right here," he came up with a completely implausible excuse and put the bottle and the glass back, looking away embarrassed.
"Wanna talk?" the young woman offered without being specific about the topic of conversation.
For a moment Young seriously considered telling her everything. After all, she was also the medical officer on board. But when he looked at TJ again, all the terrible things he had done to her in the A.I.'s scenario came to mind, and he realized he could never tell anyone about it. Especially not her.
"I think I'd better go to sleep, TJ. I'm pretty tired, and my head is pounding."
Tamara nodded. "If you're not feeling better by tomorrow, you know where to find me," she said. Young was sure her offer was not only meant for his headache. He swallowed. Did she suspect something? Or did she already know about his little vice?
"Good night, Tamara.".
The young woman followed him with her eyes and sighed softly. Since the gas leak in the shuttle and the high dose of psychotropic substances the plants had emitted, his overall condition had gotten even worse. As a well-trained medic she had noticed that for the last few months he often looked hung over in the morning. But especially since the incident he seemed to indulge in more alcohol every evening than was good for him. However, she had no idea why that was. Of course, he, herself, and Dr. Rush had struggled with the hallucinations on their journey back, and Everett had inhaled more than both Rush and she, but TJ, and even an SGC physician, had given him a close check up and taken some blood samples which came back negative for the substance. Physically, he was perfectly healthy. The first strange behaviour she had noticed was that he seemed to be avoiding the rest of the crew, particularly her and Dr. Rush. He was rarely seen in the mess and showed up late to take his meals, when most of the crew had already left. He sat alone at a table and pretended to read something. But since he never turned a page, TJ knew he was miles away with his thoughts.
She had repeatedly met him in the morning when he was on his way to the washroom and she could smell alcohol on his breath. She also noticed the tiny red flecks on his cheeks, caused by enlarged blood vessels.
She was seriously worried about him, but she also knew he would shut himself off if she confronted him directly with her observations and speculations. On the other hand, she had to do something, otherwise he'd continue to drift off.
Today had been her first try, by waiting for him. She knew that he would appear at some point, though she had hoped, deep inside, that she was wrong. Unfortunately, she wasn't.
Maybe a routine check-up of the whole crew is necessary again, she thought. That would give her the opportunity to check Everett unobtrusively. It would be a lot of work, but it was time yet again. And since she had nothing important to do at the moment, she decided to start the next morning.
When Everett had returned to his quarters, he checked his secret hideaway behind the ventilation shaft bars for some hooch. Approximately two weeks ago he had stored a small ration, after the bar had been occupied by two soldiers who seemed to celebrate throughout the whole night, and he had no chance to drink unnoticed. The next night he took a stock of bottles and hid them.
Now he fetched a bottle, sat down on his bed and took a large sip. He waited a moment until he felt a lot better. The pain in his head eased and he took a another big sip.
The next morning he was rudely woken by a hammering sound. At first he thought it was his neighbour hammering on his garage door because he had lost his key again, but then he remembered that he wasn't at home anymore, but on a ship somewhere in space.
He felt something solid in his hand. He was still holding the empty bottle and had fallen asleep in his uniform on top of his blanket.
"Colonel?" he heard a voice from the other side of his door, and rolled on to his side (not without a painful moan) and hid the bottle under his bed as fast as he could. He tried to sit up, and when he had managed that, he ran a hand through his hair.
Getting up was the most difficult part, but when he was finally standing beside his bed, he floundered towards the door and pushed the button to open it.
"Sir, are you alright?" a worried-looking Sergeant Greer asked.
Young knit his brows and realized that the sergeant wasn't on his own. Lieutenant Johansen stood behind him, looking even more worried than Greer.
"Yes… yes, Sergeant. I'm fine. Just didn't hear you knock." He tried to keep his voice controlled and steady. "Has something happened?" he asked and looked at both of them.
"You didn't show up for our morning briefing, and you weren't answering your radio. We wanted to make sure you were alright," Tamara explained.
"I wasn't able to sleep," the CO tried to come up with an excuse.
Tamara looked at Greer. "Thank you for your help, Sergeant. You may return to your post now. I have to talk to the Colonel for a moment."
Greer frowned but said "Yes, Ma'am," before he left.
When he was out of hearing range, Tamara addressed the Colonel, "Everett, what's up with you?" she asked bluntly.
"Nothing!" he fired at her immediately. "I just fell asleep late and overslept. Things happen!"
TJ scrutinized him. Young ran his fingers through his hair again and took a deep breath to calm down. This was just what he needed, TJ asking awkward questions.
"I want to see you in the infirmary, Colonel," she said authoritatively. Young knew she only used that tone to deal with rebellious, higher-ranking officers.
Young tried to talk her out of it by sighing deeply and smiling at her. "I am sorry, TJ. I didn't mean to shout at you. I was just having a nightmare and am still pretty flustered. It's not necessary to drag me to sickbay. Give me ten minutes to shower and get dressed and I'll be like new."
Tamara didn't let herself be taken in. "You'll get ten minutes, Colonel," she said, but before Young could thank her added: "Afterwards I'd like to see you in the infirmary, immediately."
Everett was getting upset and tried once more to soothe her. "Tamara, please, you know I have a slight aversion to sickbays… is that really necessary?" He looked at her puppy-eyed.
TJ sighed. "Then just tell me what's up with you. You didn't fall asleep asleep too late. You were drinking. Again."
Young went pale. He hadn't actually reckoned he could hide it from her, but he wasn't ready to talk about it. Not before he could come up with a story.
"Can we talk about it this evening?" he begged her.
"It's now or I'll see you in ten minutes in the infirmary," Tamara answered rigidly. "And please don't make me call Scott or Greer to drag you there," she added in a low voice.
Young sighed resignedly and looked down. Then he stepped aside.
"Come in," he said and closed the door after Tamara had entered.
She noticed the empty bottle lying under his bed. She had intended to go about it carefully, but a frontal attack might be better.
She grabbed the bottle, turned to him and looked at him questioningly while she held the corpus delicti directly under his nose.
Young looked embarrassed and quickly took the bottle away, placing it somewhere else.
There was a moment of awkward silence before Everett, who couldn't bear to look at Tamara any longer and lowered his gaze, felt her hand on his arm.
"Let's have a seat," she said and pushed him softly towards the couch.
TJ took a seat opposite him and asked "When was the last time you went to sleep without having a drink before?"
He sighed and looked at her again. He had to think about it for a moment until he confessed.
"Honestly, I don't know, TJ. A few weeks…"
She nodded softly. She had expected that kind of answer. "Not since the shuttle mission and the incident with the hallucinatory plants, am I right?"
After a moment he nodded.
"During the three days in which you were asleep, did you have any nightmares?" TJ asked.
"I can't remember having dreamt of anything," he lied, hesitating slightly as though trying to remember, and hoping the medic would buy it.
She gave him a scrutinizing look and probed. "Then why do you need the alcohol, Everett? I want to help you, but I have to know what's bothering you that much."
The Colonel rose and started to walk up and down his quarters.
"I don't know, everything's getting out of control. Morale is going down the drain more and more, the ship has more defects than ever, and this damn A.I…"
He suddenly went silent and stopped, so that Tamara, who was still sitting on the couch behind him, couldn't see his face. He hadn't intended to say something like that.
"What about the A.I.?" Tamara asked immediately. "Has something happened?"
"No," Everett soothed her. What should he say? He had to come up with an excuse quickly. "I just have a feeling that she could cause trouble."
He sighed, ran his hand over his face, and turned around. "It was a mistake for Dr. Rush to upload her to Destiny," he murmured.
"And this causes you so much trouble you need to drink every night?" she asked.
Young shrugged his shoulders. "The whole situation on the ship is getting more and more overwhelming. We're constantly being attacked, we always have to be looking for more food and hoping it's edible. The water, if we even find some, could also be contaminated, we lose people, we're lacking in medical supplies…. For God's sake, TJ! We just don't belong here!"
With the last sentence he glared at her. Of course he wasn't angry at her, but at the situation and she knew it. A bit hesitantly she got up, walked over to him and put a hand on his arm.
"I know. But somehow we have to deal with it. This is our new life now. But maybe someday we'll find a way back. You must not give up, the crew needs you. You are their point of reference. If you're giving up, they do as well. Please Everett, let us get through this together."
For a moment her calm and gentle voice gave him hope, but the next second he had to think about the scenario again. Abruptly he removed his arm and backed off a few steps.
"What should I do?" he asked quietly.
"For now some herbals could be helpful. And it would be good if someone stays with you until they take effect and you can sleep. Actually it would be best if I do it." She smiled at him. Young looked distressed but rallied quickly.
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" he asked doubtfully.
"Everett, please," she said with a chuckle. "We already spent some nights together. And I'll just claim the couch. Don't worry, your bed is your bed."
Normally her offer would have pleased him, but under these circumstances it was more like an announcement for the next disaster.
"TJ…," he began, as neutral as possible, "I don't know."
"If it's Varro you're worried about, we're just good friends," she said, thinking he was worried about her budding relationship with the former invader.
At least for now, she admitted to herself. Truly, she was having feelings for Varro, more than she was willing to admit at that moment. But she wanted to take it slow. And she was really worried about Everett.
The Colonel sighed. What choice did he have? Since the cat was out of the bag regarding his consumption of alcohol, he didn't even have the chance to deny it.
If he didn't give in now, she doubtless would use her power as highest ranking medical officer to relieve him of command and keep him in the infirmary. He was sure about that. So what other choice did he have but to agree? Maybe he could at least try to have someone other than TJ stay with him.
"What about Lieutenant Scott or Sergeant Greer, couldn't one of them do the job?" he suggested. He wasn't thrilled by the proposal – It would mean one of them had to be told – but it was still better than TJ spending the night in his quarters. What if he had the nightmare again? She would notice it for sure.
This damn fucking A.I., he thought furiously and clenched his fists.
"Everett, it's probably the best solution if I take care of you," TJ said softly, frowning slightly.
What on earth was wrong with him? Was he simply afraid that something would happen between them? Was that it?
"I will remain purely in my capacity as medical officer with you, if that is what bothers you. And as a friend who just wants to help you. Nothing more, okay? I can explain neither to Matt nor to Ronald how the doses might be increased and what they have to do if the herbals don't work at all. If it was possible, I'd suggest switching with an SGC physician if you're feeling so uncomfortable with me next to you, but since we lost contact with Earth I'm afraid that won't be possible."
Tamara's words were tinged with sadness on suggesting that, and Young's protective instincts were woken.
"No, that is not what I meant, Tamara. It's… it's just… well, I feel so embarrassed about the whole thing," he tried to explain.
"Don't be," Tamara said immediately. "We'll go through this together and no one needs to know about it," she said sympathetically.
After a moment Everett nodded. What else could he do?
