A/N: I was trying to keep up with answering all the reviews, but I'm hopelessly behind. I'm very sorry about that and don't think I'm not reading them or don't appreciate them. I LOVE them all, I'm just swamped and trying desperately to give nightly updates. If I could just figure out how to go without sleep, I could keep up (I think).

Nightwalker - Chapter 4

"John, I see you've been sleepwalking again."

Sheppard turned around slowly, cringing at how close he had come to escaping unnoticed. At least he wasn't standing there in his boxers like the last time.

"Uh, good morning Elizabeth. Sleep well?"

Elizabeth arched one eyebrow at him and he knew he was in trouble.

"John, you can't keep doing this. I think it's time to call for help."

"No! Look, just give me one more chance. I have a plan. I promise you, you will not wake up to find me in your room tomorrow." She didn't give in immediately, but he could tell by her expression she was wavering. "Please, Elizabeth . . . one more chance."

Elizabeth sighed and wished he didn't look quite so much like a boy pleading for a puppy. How did he do that, anyway? She could feel her resolve melting away like ice cream on a summer day. "Oh, all right, one more chance. But if I see you in here again uninvited, we go to Kate and Carson and ask for help, no arguments."

"Deal," he said quickly. "Thanks, Elizabeth, you won't regret it. I better get out of here." Almost before she blinked, he was gone. She smiled as she realized why he had made such a hasty retreat. He was afraid she would change her mind.

oOo

Sheppard was taking a jog around the far reaches of the city, looking for a place to spend the night, when McKay called. He figured if he slept far enough away from Elizabeth's room, he'd never find his way there even if he did sleepwalk.

"Colonel, where are you? We're ready for you now."

Sheppard slowed his jog and leaned over, his hands resting on his thighs. "What do you mean, you're ready for me?" He pulled one hand up to gently press against his aching ribs as he worked on slowing his breathing.

"Hel-lo! I told you last night I'd call you when we were ready for you to activate the console again. Do you listen when I talk?"

Sheppard had no idea what McKay was talking about and was about to say just that when he realized what the probable cause was. Time to cover for himself. "Okay, well, I'm on the far side of the city jogging, so give me about an hour."

"An hour! We're ready for you now. What are you doing all the way over there and why are you jogging, I thought you usually ran? Does Carson know you're doing that?"

Sheppard shook his head. "I'm jogging because my ribs don't really want me to run just yet. And besides, I don't remember you giving me a timeline on this thing." That was true, because he didn't remember any part of the conversation. But he was pretty sure from what McKay had said so far that he hadn't been given a specific time.

"Fine, fine. Just get here as fast as you can."

"Will do." Sheppard grinned, happy to have made it out of that dilemma. He looked down the hall he was standing beside. Could be just what he needed. He opened the first door he came to and looked inside. It wasn't a large room, but it was basically empty. It looked like it had been used as a storeroom at one time. Perfect place to bed down and stay out of trouble. He'd just return at bedtime with a blanket and pillow. Relieved at having solved one problem, he began the jog back to the city.

One hour later, Sheppard strolled into the lab, hair still damp from his shower. "Honey, I'm home."

McKay looked up from his computer screen. "It's about time. I see you had time for your beauty shower and make up. Now get your skinny butt over here and activate this console sometime today."

Sheppard rolled his eyes as he walked over to the ancient equipment and pulled up a stool. He placed his hands on the console and began to think it on. Almost immediately, the panel lit up and a low hum began to be emitted. Sheppard flinched at the jolt of power he that surged through him. His vision whited out and all sound faded into the background as a low-level buzzing filled his ears.

McKay and Zelenka were busy watching the readings on the computer screen. At first the data began to pour out smoothly and then, once again, the light flickered as the power fluctuated wildly.

McKay began to mutter. "No, no, no, not now. Why is this . . . Radek, tighten the blue crystal, I think it's loose. Come on baby, don't do this to me now." The power surged upward, causing the lights to momentarily brighten, before going dark, the hum slowly fading away to silence. McKay sat back in his chair in dismay. "Great. Here we go again. Guess you're done Colonel. Radek and I have more work to do."

The two scientist crowded around the laptop and began to bring up the data from the failed attempt at activation. "Look, Radek, right here. There's a power surge that seemed to . . . are you listening to me?" He had looked up to find Zelenka looking over his shoulder and past him.

Zelenka pointed behind McKay. "Look, Rodney, at Colonel Sheppard."

McKay turned around and looked at Sheppard, who was still sitting with his hands on the console, staring blankly at the back wall. McKay glanced back at Zelenka, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Colonel?" Sheppard gave no response. McKay leaned over and touched Sheppard on the arm. "Colonel Sheppard?"

Sheppard blinked slowly a couple of times and then looked at McKay. "What?"

McKay frowned, now worried that the power surge had somehow affected the pilot. "Are you okay? Maybe I should call Beckett."

Sheppard's head was finally beginning to clear enough to understand what McKay was saying. "No, don't call Becket . . . I'm okay. Just got distracted." He put his hand up to his head and rubbed his temple, sharp pains beginning to twist through his skull.

McKay looked uncertain. "I don't know, maybe I should call him anyway. You don't look so good."

Sheppard stood up suddenly. "I'm fine! How many times do I have to say that? Just call me if you ever really get this thing fixed so I can drop what I'm doing and come running, yet again!" The colonel stalked angrily from the room, knocking a chair over as he left.

The two men sat silently watching the doorway Sheppard had just exited through, their eyes wide in amazement. "Colonel doesn't usually get so angry," observed Zelenka.

McKay frowned and nodded. "No, he doesn't. Something's definitely going on."

All the way back to his quarters, the headache escalated until nausea rolled through his stomach and pinpoints of light marred his vision. As soon as he entered his room, he raced for the bathroom and emptied his stomach, heaving until his ribs protested loudly. Sheppard staggered to the bed, so dizzy he could barely stand, and collapsed on top of the blankets. The headache was blinding and incapacitating now, making him unable to get up and call for help, even if he'd wanted to. The flashing lights slowly faded away as he slipped into darkness.

oOo

Sheppard woke several hours later to a dull, throbbing headache and a dry mouth. He gingerly pushed himself up and climbed off the bed. Making his way to the bathroom, he rinsed his face and drank some water, downing some pain relievers as well. It was after supper time, but he wasn't hungry. He debated going to see Beckett, but the intense pain from before was just a faint memory and he convinced himself it had just been a headache. He had to admit, the stress and lack of sleep were beginning to get to him.

Sheppard stuffed a couple of bottles of water and powerbars, as well as his book and a flashlight into a pack. He then took the pack, a pillow, and one of his blankets and headed for the far side of the city, knowing it would take several minutes to reach his destination.

When he finally reached the empty storage room, it was almost dark. Thankful that his headache was better, he dumped his gear in the room and decided to explore some of the surrounding rooms. He poked around with the flashlight for two hours before deciding to turn in. Returning to the storeroom, he dragged the remnant of a chair into the room and used it to block the door, hoping it would slow him down in the event he went sleepwalking. Maybe he was so far away from the occupied areas that he wouldn't be seen by anyone, wandering around the city in his sleep. He curled up on the blanket in the far corner of the room.

He squirmed and shifted and finally got up and paced a while. Two hours later, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep, his head still pounding as he tried in vain to get comfortable.

He dreamed of Wraith in the city, attacking and killing everyone in their path. Sheppard was one step behind them, coming across the dead, desiccated husks of people that had once been his friends. His frustration grew at each corpse. Why couldn't he catch them? He followed the carnage to Elizabeth's door and thought it open, terrified of what was inside. His eyes locked onto Elizabeth's dying eyes, her face withering and drawing as he watched the Wraith suck the life from her. Through it all, he just stood and watched as she silently begged him to help her. He was frozen in place, unable to move. The Wraith finished and the shell of his friend dropped to the floor, shattering on impact as the abomination laughed at him from across the room.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Dr. Weir."

Sheppard opened his eyes and lifted his head from the floor a few inches. He was lying on his stomach, the floor cool and hard beneath him.

"John? John, this is Elizabeth, can you hear me?" Realizing the voice was coming from his radio, he keyed the mike and responded.

"Elizabeth, it's John. What's up?"

"John, where are you? I've been trying to reach you off and on for almost half an hour now so we could meet and discuss some things."

Sheppard pulled himself up to a sitting position, groaning as he strained aching back muscles. His hands and knees also protested the forced pressure against the floor as he moved about. He looked around, remembering where he was supposed to be and realizing this wasn't it. He was in a corridor inside the uninhabited area of the city, but he didn't recognize it at all. Great, he had no idea where he was.

"John, where are you?"

Sheppard sighed. "What do we need to meet about?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

"John . . . what's wrong?"

She knew. He wasn't sure exactly how, although the lack of response on his part for an extended period of time when he should have been around had to have been a clue. "Nothing's wrong, when do you need to see me?"

"Now."

Crap. "Now's not good for me, how about in . . . a couple of hours."

There was a pause, which he was pretty sure wasn't going to work in his favor. "John Sheppard, you either tell me where you are or you appear in my office pronto! That is not request."

Busted. "I'm . . . not exactly sure where I am."

Another pregnant pause. "How do you not know where you are? Unless, perhaps, you've been sleepwalking again."

So busted. His head hurt, along with his back, and knees. He was sitting there looking at his hands, scraped and scratched and raw from what? He had no idea. Maybe it was time to be worried. "Okay, this is what happened. I bunked in the uninhabited part of the city last night so that if I did the sleepwalking thing, I wouldn't bother anyone this time. But when I woke up just now, I discovered I'm not where I started and I have no idea where I am. I'm not sure how long it will take me to get back because I'm not sure what direction I even need to go."

Another one of those annoying bouts of silence, during which he was sure she was probably condemning him to the nut house.

"Okay, just contact me the minute you get back."

"I will. Sheppard out." He sat there a second, looking around and gathering his thoughts. He finally got to his feet, groaning as his back protested and his headache kicked up again. He looked down at the knees of his pants and saw that they were scuffed just above where his knees burned and ached. At some point, he must have taken a fall. How do you fall down and skin yourself up and not wake yourself up? He was beginning to get frightened at how out of control this was getting. It took a minute to get his achy body moving, but then he loosened up and made better time.

He realized thirty minutes into his walk that if he'd gone the opposite direction, he could have hit a transporter in two minutes and been almost back to his quarters. By the time he made the discovery, however, he was too far along to turn back, so he kept walking. What could have been a ten minute trip if he'd realized where he was took almost an hour of painful walking. By the time he reached his quarters, the headache had reached monumental proportions. As he rounded the last corner, he saw two people standing outside the door to his room. Carson and Elizabeth stood looking down the hall expectantly. If he'd seen them a second earlier, he might have considered turning around and running the opposite direction, but he didn't see them until they saw him. No use running now.

Elizabeth hurried down the hall in his direction. "John, are you all right?"

Sheppard sighed as he opened the door to his room and walked in. "I'm fine, just tired. I managed to miss the only transporter in the area and had to walk all the way back. I assume I've been the topic of conversation." He tried to walk normally, but he was pretty sure he was doing a poor job. His back and ribs were protesting loudly and he kept trying not to jar himself too much. Every step seemed to fire up nerve endings somewhere.

"John, I was worried when I couldn't reach you this morning. You weren't in your quarters and no one had seen you since last night. I was afraid something had happened."

Sheppard turned around to find Beckett standing beside him. "Let me see those," he said, taking hold of Sheppard's wrists and turning his hands over so he could see the raw, scraped palms.

Sheppard tried to pull away, but only succeeded in making his back and ribs pull. "It's just some scratches," he snapped, his voice heavy with irritation.

Carson held on firmly. "What happened, Colonel?"

Sheppard quit pulling, too tired and sore to fight it any longer. "I guess Elizabeth has filled you in by now on my recent . . . sleeping problems." Beckett nodded. "I tried spending the night in the far edge of the city so I wouldn't disturb anyone with my sleepwalking, I just woke up like this when Elizabeth called me on the radio. I assume I went wandering again and fell at some point."

Beckett took in the skinned hands and his gaze went down to Sheppard's scuffed pant legs. "Are your knees skinned as well?"

Sheppard grunted under his breath. "I don't know. There wasn't really anywhere to drop my pants and look," he said sarcastically. "But they are kind of sore, so probably so."

Beckett nodded, ignoring the attitude. "I also noticed you walking a bit off from your normal gait. Have you injured your back?"

"It aches a little, so I guess I twisted it when I fell. Look guys, I fell and skinned myself up a little bit. I've done worse than this falling off my skateboard. I really just want to take a shower, get a bite to eat, and crawl into bed. Surely that's a plan you can both approve of."

Carson nodded. "Yes, with one addition. I want to disinfect those cuts after you've washed up."

"That's not necessary, Doc. I know how to use soap."

Beckett's voice and expression hardened a little. "That may be, Colonel, but we have no idea where or how you got those cuts. That means we don't know what you may have been exposed to. So, if you don't mind, and even if you do, I'll be checking those abrasions myself in a wee bit."

Sheppard realized the doctor was right and nodded in agreement. "Okay, you win."

"Okay," said Elizabeth. "How about if I grab you some breakfast while Carson gets his kit and you get cleaned up? Any requests?"

Sheppard said, "Coffee," at the same time Beckett said, "No coffee."

Sheppard sighed, the fight gone out of him. "Whatever looks edible and some juice, I guess."

"And milk," added Carson.

"I don't like plain milk," said Sheppard.

"Then get chocolate," suggested the doctor.

Sheppard's eyes widened. "We have chocolate milk?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, where have you been?"

Sheppard sighed and shook his head. "Drinking coffee, I guess."

"So get him some chocolate milk," instructed Beckett.

"How long have we had chocolate milk?"

Elizabeth continued to grin, amused by Sheppard's obvious confusion. "The Daedalus started bringing it run before last due to all the requests. They bring it frozen and we thaw it as we use it."

Sheppard grinned. "I like chocolate milk."

oOo

The hot water burned his hands and knees at first, but felt good on the sore muscles of his back. When he finally felt clean, Sheppard climbed out of the shower and began to dry off. He was about to get dressed when there was a knock on the door.

"Colonel, I want to have a look at those knees before you get dressed," Beckett called through the door.

"Just a sec, Doc." Sheppard pulled on his boxers and a T-shirt before letting the doctor in.

"Have a seat, Colonel."

Sheppard sat down, feeling silly as Beckett wiped his skinned and bruised knees with disinfectant. He sucked in a deep breath at the burn of the liquid on his raw flesh. It only took a few minutes, and then Beckett left so he could finish dressing. The doctor was waiting on him when he emerged from the bathroom, and repeated the process with the palms of his hands. About the time he was finishing up, Elizabeth arrived with three trays of food.

"I got us all a tray," she explained. "I figured we could just eat together while we sort this thing out."

Sheppard was somewhat amazed. "How did you carry three trays at once?"

Elizabeth grinned. "I worked as a waitress when I was in college. At one time, I could carry up to seven plates without dropping them. I guess I haven't lost my touch."

The three of them sat down at the table and began eating. "John," she said. "We can't let this go on. It's mildly amusing here in Atlantis, but obviously we can't have you going on missions where this might happen. And it seems as if it can be a little dangerous."

Sheppard poked at his food, knowing she was right. "Elizabeth, I don't know what to do. I don't seem to have any control over it. I don't know why this is happening."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and prepared for the fight. "You need to talk to Kate. I can't help but think that something is bothering you and it's manifesting itself with the sleepwalking."

Sheppard groaned. "I just don't see what talking to her is going to do. If something is bothering me, she's not going to make it go away."

"Maybe not, but she can help you identify it so you can start dealing with it." Elizabeth placed a hand reassuringly on his arm. "Please John, just try."

He blew out a slow, deep breath. "Okay, I'll try."

Elizabeth smiled and relaxed her shoulders. "Thank you. Look at it this way, it can't hurt."

Sheppard wasn't sure that was true, but decided to keep quiet on the matter. They finished eating in silence and then stacked up their dirty trays.

"Off to bed with you, Colonel," encouraged the doctor.

Sheppard was so tired and achy that he decided not to complain. He climbed into bed and quietly let Beckett check his ribs and back, before tucking him in. He expected Beckett to offer him Tylenol for his aches, but the next thing he knew, the doctor was pulling out a syringe.

"I want to be sure you actually get some sleep and I don't think Tylenol will do it," explained Beckett as he injected the contents into the Colonel's arm.

A few minutes later, Sheppard was vaguely aware of Carson and Elizabeth leaving as he drifted off to sleep, hoping that he stayed put for once.

TBC