Chapter 8
'Dr Beckett, he is waking.'
The slight panic edging Teyla's normally calm voice brought Sheppard more quickly back to wakefulness, the steady electronic beep keeping perfect time with the throbbing of his head now telling him he was back in the infirmary.
He forced his reluctant lids apart, seeing Teyla's concerned face leaning over him. That expression was a sight he had grown very familiar with these past few days. He closed his eyes again, wishing himself out of there, but it didn't work.
'John...can you hear me?'
He could, but he couldn't find the energy to reply, so settled for a nod instead. That appeased her, and he heard her exhale, taking his hand between both of hers to let him know she was still with him.
Around him, the medical team arrived, led by Carson. 'Now, Colonel. I was really hoping not to see you in here again so soon. Can you tell me what happened?'
He forced his eyes open. His memory felt like a gaping void – he was standing on the edge of it trying to see the bottom, but it was just too far down to see. 'I...I guess I just passed out.'
'Have you eaten today?' the doctor asked him, making notes.
He had a vague recollection of breakfast in the mess hall, of an argument, and of losing his appetite. 'Some...not much.'
'You really have to look after yourself, Colonel,' Beckett chastised. 'You're still recovering from some serious injuries; you can't afford to go skipping meals that way.'
Sheppard adopted a suitably sorry expression and apologised for scaring them, promising not to do it again. But at the back of his mind a little voice told him the doctor should mind his own business...that he was a busybody with no right to tell him how to live his life...and he kind of agreed with the sentiment.
'I'll organise a meal for you once we've run through our checks,' Carson told him, shoving a thermometer into his ear.
'Perhaps I could see to that?' Teyla offered, and the doctor nodded his agreement.
'That would be a big help, love. Plenty of complex carbohydrates, mind. We need to get his energy levels up.'
She nodded her understanding, giving John a smile before disappearing.
As the other staff finished up their tests, they began to scatter to their various duties around the infirmary, leaving Carson and Sheppard alone.
The doctor, stood back, folding his arms over his chest and giving him a knowing look. 'I spoke with Rodney earlier,' he began, leaving it there no doubt to see how he would answer.
'Oh?' Two could play at that game.
'He said you were pretty hard on him...very critical, in fact.'
'You know, Rodney. He's just highly strung...'
'Aye, that he is, but Teyla agreed that you were behaving somewhat out of character...Ronon, too. And when all three of them are worried, I sit up and listen.'
Your friends don't trust you.
That voice. It had said something important to him before he had passed out, he was sure of it, but what was it? The more he groped around in his muddy memory, the deeper he sank in the mire. Nothing would surface, and all he got for his trouble was an increase in the throbbing behind his eyes.
He could see Carson was waiting for some kind of answer, but what was he supposed to say? Yes, he'd been hard on Rodney, and no, he hadn't been fair, but he hadn't meant to do it – the words had just fallen out of his mouth as if he had no control over them. 'What can I say? Everyone has a bad day.'
It wasn't much of an excuse, but it would have to suffice for now.
'Have you been sleeping, Colonel?'
He had, though he never felt fully rested, and his mind always seemed swamped in confusion whenever he woke. It wasn't sleep as he remembered it. It was just something his body demanded he do each night, but it apparently had little or no restorative value. He just wanted to sleep the way he used to...to feel the way he used to. He was tired of hurting all the time...tired of thinking...tired of the damned voice that seemed determined to undermine him and his place in Atlantis at every turn.
'Colonel?'
He lifted his eyes to Carson, seeing sympathy written across his kind face. Something inside him began to bubble. He didn't need sympathy from someone like Carson. He wasn't even a real person, just a facsimile...a shadow of the real man who had once graced this great city.
'Not as much as I'd like, no,' he admitted, through clenched teeth.
'And the migraines...I take it they're still bothering you?'
'Only when I'm awake.'
'And since you're not sleeping too well...'
'Yeah, you're getting the picture.'
Sheppard smiled at him, one of his best crooked grins, but inside he could feel anger knotting his stomach. Why was Carson asking all these dumb questions? He was supposed to be a brilliant doctor. He should have fixed all this by now.
'Well, I know this is probably little comfort to you right now, but it's perfectly normal for you to be experiencing these kinds of side effects after the injuries you sustained to your sight and hearing. As I've said before, it'll all settle down given more time.'
Sure, that was an easy thing to say and it meant Carson didn't have to do any more work on him. He probably didn't think he was worth the effort. As far as everyone on Atlantis was concerned he was damaged goods; he couldn't see properly, couldn't hear properly – what use was he to his colleagues if the Wraith attacked now?
'You'd have thought a guy who can manipulate genes could figure out a way to cure a damn headache by now,' he heard his voice say. But why he'd said it, he didn't know. He hadn't meant to criticise...at least not out loud.
Carson looked hurt, but quickly masked it. 'Let me get you something for the headaches. If we get on top of those, the sleep might follow.'
'It might...if you had the first idea what you were doing.'
This time, Carson's jaw dropped a fraction. He typed something into his datapad. 'I think it might be an idea to keep you in a while for observation...maybe run more scans –'
'So you can spot headaches on those things now?' Sheppard scoffed, folding his arms and glaring over them at the seemingly exasperated doctor.
'No, but I might be able to spot the cause of it. It's a proven fact that some brain injuries can cause changes to personalities. I didn't spot anything when we brought you in, but it might be prudent to repeat the tests considering the symptoms you're experiencing.'
'Whatever,' Sheppard shrugged.
Apparently alarmed by his indifference, Carson asked, 'Aren't you even a little concerned about your behaviour, Colonel?'
Narrowing his eyes, Sheppard pinned him with a piercing look. 'No, I'm more concerned that you're not the best doctor for the job.'
Fumbling for words, Carson strung together the best reply he could manage. 'Well...well, I admit it might seem like we're making no progress to you, but we've had a lot of people working on your case, Colonel, and from a lot of different angles. We'll get to the bottom of things...eventually.'
'Or not. Have you ever considered that you're just not smart enough to solve this, Carson? Maybe you should just admit defeat and stick to fishing.'
Carson jolted back as if he'd punched him. Somewhere inside, John could hear a distant voice telling him to stop because he was hurting the man's feelings, but another part, something much louder and more forceful told him Carson was arrogant and deserved it. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he stop doing this?
'Right...well,' Carson started, scratching his hair as if not sure how to handle him any more. 'I'll ask Marie to set up that scan and we'll see what it shows us.'
'Yeah, I guess we will,' Sheppard fired back, instinctively knowing the doctor's attempts to help would culminate in yet another failure, but unsure why he was so certain of that. Patient as ever, Carson shuffled away, leaving Sheppard to wonder just what he was becoming – someone who enjoyed undermining others, who revelled in seeing the hurt in their eyes. Whoever this new John Sheppard was, he didn't like him one little bit.
...oooooo...
While stifling a yawn and stretching out his tired limbs, Rodney spotted Carson making his way over to him in the lab. His stomach lurched, for a moment thinking something serious had befallen the colonel, then realised they had a communication system for communicating those kinds of emergencies and was highly unlikely to leave a seriously ill patient to bring the news to him in person.
'Hey, Carson. We don't see you down here too often,' he greeted his friend. 'Come to see how the real scientists work?'
'Very funny, Rodney, but I have just about as many derogatory remarks as I can handle for one day, thank you very much!'
Puzzled, Rodney looked away from the work he had started reading again. 'Really, how so?'
'It's a long story. Look, Rodney, I need to see all the research you and the geologists have done on the rock deposits from P5G 598, both here and in-situ.'
Rodney slid his chair over to a spare laptop and fired up the appropriate files, signalling for Carson to take a seat. 'So, what's brought on this sudden interest?'
Carson sighed, turning his chair toward Rodney. 'Because I'm sure we've missed something about P5G 598 that's important to Colonel Sheppard's current condition.'
'Oh, and of course you would assume I've missed something!' Rodney huffed, feeling a stab of indignation at the suggestion.
'Not really, it's just that I've already checked through every test I've run at least twice and I can't find anything unusual. But what I do know is that cheeky little bugger sitting up in the infirmary is not the Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard we've come to know and love, and I mean to get to the bottom of why...even if he thinks I'm not smart enough to do it.'
'You mean he's been criticising you, too?' Rodney asked, surprised to hear that. He and Sheppard had always shared and interesting and slightly prickly friendship by mutual agreement...well, he'd assumed Sheppard agreed to their banter because he always played along. They'd never actually discussed it because...well, they didn't really talk that much...not about real life stuff.
'Aye. Seems he thinks his problems might just be beyond my medical understanding. Trouble is, I'm beginning to think he might be right. I've run more scans, and there's nothing physically wrong with him now. His symptoms should be improving, but if anything, they're getting worse.'
'Well, you're not going to find anything useful in those files,' Rodney grumbled, dipping his head toward the laptop. 'Zelenka and I have been through the data time and time again and we can't find anything to account for what happened down there.'
Carson stared back at him, momentarily silent. 'I know Mr Woolsey put a ban on anyone returning to P5G 598 until we came up with some kind of answers that meant we knew what we were dealing with, but do you think he might change his mind since the colonel's condition has taken a dip?'
'A dip?' Rodney felt his heart leap into his throat. 'What kind of dip?'
'He passed out earlier...although that may have simply been down to lack of food. But the mood swings and bed temper are definitely getting worse...'
'Well, I'm ready to go back if you are,' Rodney said eagerly, jumping up and already beginning to gather the things he thought he might need.
'All right, Rodney. You do whatever you need to prepare here and leave talking Mr Woolsey round to me. I have a feeling this might take a gentler touch than you're capable of.'
Rodney stopped mid-rummage, his face suddenly puce, but after a moment of holding in a deluge of insults, he simply nodded. 'Maybe, you're right, Carson. I'm not sure I could stay level-headed about this, right now.'
'I promise you, I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand before the hour is up.'
He darted from the room, leaving Rodney beavering away behind him, collecting together all his vital equipment and feeling a mixture of excitement and fear at the thought of returning to the planet that had left Sheppard in such a mess the last time they travelled there.
...oooooo...
Lieutenant Andrews took the jumper through the 'gate smoothly, hunting out the rocky plain at the location Dr McKay had given him as soon as they passed through it. His landing was textbook perfect, but McKay couldn't help but feel it lacked something of the finesse Sheppard demonstrated with seemingly no effort at all. He sighed, checking the energy readings in the locality.
Nothing.
That didn't look promising. Rodney looked around at the others in the party – Ronon, Teyla, and Carson – swallowing deeply at the thought of leaving the safety of their craft. His subconscious was screaming that this was a dumb, dumb, dumb, idea, but what choice did they have? Only P5G 958 had any possible solutions to Sheppard's worsening condition.
'Okay. What now Dr McKay?' the lieutenant asked, looking over to where he was sitting in the co-pilot seat.
'Now we get out...I guess,' he said. What he meant was that now they acted as bait to try to lure whatever it was that had captured Sheppard out of hiding, but he didn't want to say that out loud. Everyone knew what he meant – no need to dwell on it.
'Let's go,' Ronon rumbled, drawing his weapon and taking point as they headed for the rear ramp.
Rodney let Andrews out first, then caught up with Carson who was hanging back for him.
'Ready?' the doctor asked him.
'Ready to go dangle myself like the proverbial worm on a hook. Oh yeah...what could go wrong?' he whined.
Carson gave him a sympathetic smile before pulling out his side arm and heading down the rear ramp beside him. 'Come on, Rodney. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get back and help the colonel.'
Emerging out into the dusty landscape gave Rodney the creeps. This time, unlike the first time they'd set foot there, he instantly felt as if they were being watched. He hunched his shoulders, altering the range of his hand-held scanner to see if he could pick anything up. Still nothing.
'So, what now?' Ronon asked, and then all eyes were on McKay, waiting for his answer.
'Well, I guess we could head through the rocks again. That seemed to get their attention last time.'
Ronon nodded and strode out in that direction, and Andrews gestured for the others to follow the Satedan so he could watch their six. At a lean six feet three, with Ronon a shade taller, the two of them looked like titans protecting their more diminutive charges, although Andrews' short, blond hair and spotless BDUs provided a stark contrast to the Satedan's more unconventional style.
McKay kept his eyes glued to his scanner, watching for a tell tale variation in the background energy levels that would show something was approaching. The sky above darkened, growing thick with clouds as they walked – clouds that eventually released great spots of rain, the type that heralded an approaching storm.
'Great, because this trip isn't bad enough as it is,' McKay mumbled, adjusting his scanner again.
'It's just rain, McKay,' Ronon pointed out.
Easy for someone like him to say. He didn't look like a drowning kitten when he got caught in a downpour.
On the very periphery of his scanning radius, McKay spotted energy building. 'Okay, I have something.'
'Where is it?' Teyla asked, arriving beside him and reading the scanner results along with him.
'Currently ten clicks north-west of here,' he said, watching the power levels mount. 'But you can bet it won't be that far away for long if they know we're here.'
Lieutenant Andrews came to an abrupt halt, his blue eyes searching the landscape, and called, 'Anyone else feel that?'
'The ground's shaking,' Ronon announced, raising his weapon and scouring the short distances he could see between the needles of rock surrounding them.
'What?' Then Rodney felt it, too – a gentle tremor in the earth beneath his feet. 'Oh, this just keeps getting better!'
'Are they coming any closer yet, Rodney?' Carson asked, joining both him and Teyla.
The scans still showed the power spike hovering at the same distance. Perhaps the hostiles were avoiding the area because of the earth tremors. 'Not yet. Maybe we should keep moving and then we'll get their attention.'
The group pressed on, winding their way through the rocks as the rain worsened, and the tremors shook the ground with increasing regularity. A piece of rock thudded to the ground only a few feet from Carson, making him start.
'I think it might be wise if we give the rocks a wide berth,' he suggested.
No one argued, though there really wasn't enough space to be sure they could be entirely safe. Once or twice, Ronon spotted a larger piece breaking free from a column and blasted it on the way down, showering them with smaller splinters, which, although they hurt as they struck their unprotected areas of skin, ultimately were much less harmful than the larger blocks.
Rodney watched his scanner, seeing no change in the proximity of the power readings. 'C'mon, for pity's sake! We're right here.'
'Did you hear that?' Carson suddenly asked from behind him.
Rodney stopped. 'What now?'
'I think I heard something...a voice.'
They all listened, but none of them heard anything.
'Should we move out?' Andrews asked, clearly keen to get the mission over with, and understandably so. They were making no progress and conditions were becoming treacherous; like Sheppard, he would see it as his responsibility to get everyone back to Atlantis in one piece.
'Everyone okay to keep going?' McKay asked, immediately receiving nods from Teyla and Ronon.
Carson, however, looked like he wasn't listening. 'Are you seriously telling me you can't hear that?' he asked again, eyes round with worry.
Once again, they stood still and listened, and this time Rodney heard something – something that sounded like a whisper. When Teyla opened her mouth to speak, he jabbed his index finger into the air as a signal for her to stay quiet. It came again, and this time he heard what it said.
Worthless.
'I heard it!' he gasped. 'It is a voice.'
'I think I heard it, too,' Lieutenant Andrews pitched in. 'It said something, but I couldn't quite make it out.
'Worthless,' Rodney and Carson said in unison, then gave each other a horrified look. If they had both heard the same word, then it had to be true.
'I can hear nothing,' Teyla told them, looking puzzled.
'Me neither,' Ronon grunted, but he did a 360 degree turn with his weapon set to stun to be sure there was no one around all the same.
Usurpers, the voice whispered, and this time, the three of them reacted as one, each levelling their weapons at nothing in particular, Rodney almost dropping his weapon in his hurry to fumble it out of the holster.
'Again?' Teyla asked, and they nodded, eyes searching out their hidden foe.
Above them, the clouds began to race unnaturally fast, coming in thicker and more bulbous with rain over the rocky terrain they were traversing and drenching them through to their skins.
'Rodney!' Carson called, and McKay knew the doctor thought they should go.
'Just give me a few more minutes,' he yelled over the winds now swirling around them. The power reading had started to move and grow, and he couldn't miss this opportunity to gather vital data.
Weaklings, the voice hissed inside his head, and he realised then that it really was inside his skull, and that was why he could still hear it clearly despite the worsening weather. So...what? Whatever was lurking on this planet was telepathic? He looked up to the racing clouds and shuddered as it occurred to him it could be much more than mere telepathy they practiced, but telekinesis, too. Perhaps they were controlling the clouds and the tremors, and if they were, presumably they could control rock growth and inflict physical injuries without any difficulty.
As if to reiterate that fact, a huge tremor shook them all so hard they stumbled, and one of the nearby spindles of rock split near its base and toppled against another.
Leave now, the voice hissed, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt sick, frightened, worthless...just as they'd said he was. Were they exercising control over his thinking now?
'Dr McKay, we really do need to leave, NOW!' Andrews ordered, and before McKay could express an opinion, the others were already heading back the way they'd come. Not wishing to be left behind, he followed them, hearing a disembodied voice rasp Leave now, over and over, as if its owner suspected he needed the incentive. He didn't, and to be honest the added pressure wasn't helping.
They ran without stopping, Teyla only slowing long enough to catch hold of his arm and pull him along with her. His lungs burned with the effort, his legs turning to lumps of lead too heavy to lift clear of the ground. They stumbled along as the land beneath them shook and cracked and all around the rocky shafts began to crumble, fuelling their urgent need to get back to the safety of the jumper. It looked like the planet was in the grip of a natural disaster, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
They reached the craft with the sound of crunching stone ringing in their ears. Lieutenant Andrews set the jumper in motion, taking them up to a safe level and away from the collapsing rocks.
They travelled back to the 'gate in silence, Rodney trying to make sense of what had just happened. If Sheppard had come up against those same beings, which it seemed likely he had, there was no wonder he'd been in the state he was in by the time they reached him. After just a few minutes of contact, he felt drained of confidence and ready throw in the towel.
All of which made the fact they had left Sheppard behind to save their own asses seem like an even bigger mistake than it already had.
A/N: Thanks again for all the comments and alerts/favourites. Keep them coming; it all helps to feed the muse! :D
