Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and all characters therein are the property of MGM. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to Stargate Atlantis.
Title: A Time to Heal
Author: Pyrodragon2006
A/N: Thanks so much to all of you who have been reading and reviewing! My internet has been incredibly slow due to unforeseen circumstances, so I haven't been able to reply to each of you, but thank you, thank you, thank you... Now the fun really begins!
Chapter 3: A Time to Fear
"Colonel!"
A hard shake of his shoulder, a familiar voice in his ear, both drawing him back to consciousness. Attempting to open his eyes resulted in sparkles of light, like fireflies, dancing through his vision, bringing with them a spinning sensation. John quickly squeezed his eyes shut again, completely losing all equilibrium as his stomach joined the party as well. Hands grabbed at and held him, probably saving him from a rather embarrassing face to face with the floor.
"Easy, son, we've got you. Just ride it out."
The comforting Scottish brogue helped to ground him and he was able to let the waves wash through, keeping still until they finally began to subside. Gradually becoming more alert, he realized he was seated with his back to one of the city's smooth walls, hands braced on the floor as if the environment around him were actually rocking. Something covered his nose and mouth, edges rubbing uncomfortably against his cheeks. He assumed at first that it was an oxygen mask, then noted the lack of the familiar gas brushing his face and the crinkling sound of heavy plastic just below his chin. Cautiously reopening his eyes, the colonel was grateful to find everything staying steady, if fuzzy, even when he eased his hands from the floor. Someone knelt just in front of him, one hand on his shoulder, one checking John's pulse at the carotid artery at the neck, so he concluded it must be Beckett. He reached up hesitantly for the mask only to have his wrist grabbed and restrained while he blinked his eyes rapidly, struggling to clear his sight.
"Easy, colonel. That's a re breather mask, you were hyperventilating. You're goin' to be just fine."
The Scot's features finally swam into focus, kneeling in front of him, with Elizabeth off to the side, still holding down his hand. Behind them, a grim Major Lorne, Sheppard's second-in-command, stood watching. What were they doing here? He was late for the meeting, wasn't he? Conscious of his breathing, now, he forced himself to slow down, quit panting, stop his heart from pounding wildly in his ears.
"Good, colonel, that's excellent..."
After a few minutes, Carson carefully removed the mask from his face, John gratefully rubbing at the spots it had poked into.
"Doc? What happened? I was going to get the files..."
John trailed off uncertainly, noting the activity behind his friends, especially the marines coming out of his office in full gear. Several feet away, an emergency medical team stood clustered around a gurney, talking quietly. Rather then answering, the physician began a careful examination, which John forced himself to endure, too exhausted to object, though it was a clear stall on the part of the doc. Then memory kicked in and he was frantically batting away Carson's hands while attempting to get to his feet.
"My office! There was an iratus bug-!"
Multiple hands grabbing, holding, stopping him.
"Colonel! I need you to stay down, son! Every thing's fine, just let me look at you!"
The doctor was in his face, hands back on his shoulders, while the colonel was intent on getting around him, entirely focused on the open door to his office. For a moment, it seemed there would be a potentially ugly battle of wills, then Elizabeth stepped in.
"All right, John, that's enough! Sit back down and I'll have Major Lorne explain while Carson finishes checking you."
One look at her clenched jaw and flashing green eyes told him she didn't intend to be argued with, but there was no way John was letting himself be that easily placated. Not this time.
"If that thing is still alive-"
Lorne immediately shook his head, every movement telegraphing extreme anger.
"It was a model, sir. Incredibly detailed, life-like, but just a model. Almost filled it full of holes myself before I realized it wasn't moving. You're still recovering, must have thrown your aim off. Sergeant Kirov has it."
Now John did allow himself to be pushed back to the wall, but still stubbornly resisted sitting back down.
"A model?! Why would anybody..."
He trailed off, getting more pissed the longer he thought about it. If he ever caught who left the thing, they'd be very lucky if he didn't introduce them to a real one. Except the idea of going near enough to one of their planets to carry out such a revenge sent a shudder through him, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"I want to see it!"
Lorne winced at his superior's flat statement while Elizabeth blanched. Carson just shook his head even as John's anger went up another notch, overriding his fear. He needed to see the thing for himself, to be sure.
"Colonel, I think that's a bloody bad idea."
"No, John."
His friends echoed each other in their veto even as the object of their concern tensed, determination settling over his features.
"Now, Major!"
John barked harshly even as part of him noted with mild amusement that being on the wrong side of all those superiors over the years had an unforeseen benefit. He'd known just what tone to take to have Lorne turned around seeking out Kirov before he'd even fully processed what his CO had just ordered him to do. The doctors just stared at him, identical purse lipped disapproving expressions on their faces, but he really didn't care. The safety of Atlantis had to come before anything else, or at least that was the way his conscious mind was rationalizing it.
Unfortunately, his subconscious mind had other ideas. As Lorne returned with the young sergeant in tow, John felt his mouth go dry, then powerful shudders wracked his body uncontrollably. He heard Carson swear softly and held out a hand to prevent the physician butting in, just now registering the absence of his team. He needed them here. No running, he sternly lectured himself, gaze locked on a shape straight out of his nightmares being casually held in the soldier's hands. Lorne's eyes narrowed as he raked the other officer with an assessing glance then stopped the sergeant several feet from the colonel. Deliberately, he stepped between John and Kirov, blocking sight of the iratus bug.
"Sir, are you sure?"
John barely heard the question through his heart pounding in his head. A light touch to the arm caused him to flinch back, hard.
"John, why don't we wait a minute, get your team out here. They're just in going over your office."
Elizabeth's tone made it more a plea than a suggestion, at least telling him where the rest of his friends were, but he wouldn't be put off. His focus quickly tunneled once again, the bug all that mattered even as he continued to stare at the spot where the creature would be were Lorne not in the way. One hand went down to rest on his side arm, only to meet an empty holster as he waved his second to one side.
"I have your weapon, sir. You were still trying to shoot with an empty clip when I-"
A faint flapping buzz. A yelp of absolute shock and horror. Both were out of John's worst nightmares associated with the ugly black over-sized tick now scurrying across the floor. Soldiers and civilians scrambled away from the thing, panicked shouts calling for someone to kill it. Several nine millimeters were out, but no one dared shoot and risk a potentially deadly ricochet in the full hallway, some part of John absently noted. So many to choose from, a glutinous feast for an iratus bug. He felt as if he were being torn apart even as he was unable the move, feet seemingly bolted to the floor, heart once again beating wildly in his ears.
Kill it, run, SOMETHING!
Vision started to gray out as his lungs tightened, forcing John to struggle for every breath. The bug paused a few feet in front of him, then lept into the air, having chosen its target- Elizabeth, standing frozen in shock just to John's right. He didn't even think, just reacted as his military mindset took over, giving the woman a firm shove that sent her sprawling to the corridor floor leaving John in the direct path of the insect. He quickly brought his left arm up in an instinctual move to bat the thing away, protect his face, the impact jolting all the way up his shoulder. Four sharp claws dug into his arm as the thing latched on, bringing tears of agony and fear to his eyes.
Then- the thing let loose, flesh tearing, and the momentum of its victim's still swinging arm sent it flying down the empty side of the corridor. A familiar whine, a red bolt of energy, and the iratus exploded mid-air, literally splattering everyone nearby with bug pieces.
John had already sunk to his knees, legs suddenly unwilling to support him. He barely felt himself hit with instectal splatter, only heard part of the loud discussion that followed.
"Eew! That's just- I think I'm gonna be sick! Thank you for that, Ronon! Geez, you couldn't-"
"You're alive, McKay, quit whining."
Sheppard felt his lips twitch ever so slightly at that, wishing he had the strength to turn and get a good look at Rodney's face.
"Yes, yes, and not so incidentally dripping with the bodily fluids of a-" Anger turned to panicked sputtering. "Bodily-! Do you have any idea how many diseases insects carry?! Where are the decontamination showers?! And... blood? I'm not- Sheppard!"
He jerked at McKay's shout, pain shooting through his body, his vision darkening. People began yelling all around him, hands again... Why were they constantly grabbing at him today? Then, blessed darkness pulled him in, quiet, wiping out the cacophony of voices even as his body fell the rest of the way to Atlantis' hard floor, landing in a pool of warm, wet liquid.
Tbc... I never said the old enemy had to be human... blinks innocently, I'm typing as fast as possible, I swear...
