Chapter 9:
Beta: J.A.B.
Spoilers: SG-1 Enemy Mine, everything from Atlantis Season 1 and everything up to Michael are fair game.
A/N: If any of my medical stuff is even remotely correct—it's by accident. I swear. Make that double for military stuff.

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Elizabeth paused outside the infirmary door and studied John Sheppard. He was staring at the ceiling, his hand twitching every few second as he suppressed the urge to scratch at his healing cuts.

His expression was hard and his lips were pinched in a flat line of anger and pain.

Elizabeth looked at the blue folder she carried and suddenly decided it wasn't the time to show John what was inside. She motioned to one of the on-duty nurses and slipped the folder into the surprised woman's hands.

"Could you put that on Carson's desk? I don't think the Colonel is up to discussing it right now. I'll pick it up later."

The nurse let her hands clamp on the blue folder and nodded. "Yes, Dr. Weir."

Elizabeth steeled herself and then approached John's bed. "Hi, John."

He didn't look away from the ceiling. "You lifted my ban on civilians and non-Earth personnel going on missions," he said flatly.

She sighed. So, this was how it was going to be. "Yes, when you disappeared. I wasn't going to tell your team that they couldn't participate in the search."

"If I was missing, then it was too dangerous for them."

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest and held back her rising anger. It wouldn't do any good to get John worked up while he was healing. They could have this fight when he was in better physical shape. "So, what does Carson say?"

"A couple of weeks." His disgust was apparent in his tone.

"Well . . . I'll come by to see you again later," she said as she carefully backed away. She was trying for casual, but it was beginning to feel like fleeing.

"I want my ban back in place," John said absently, once again absorbed in his study of the ceiling.

Without answering, Elizabeth turned and made for Carson's piled up desk. She snatched her blue folder and made her escape.

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Ronon stood guard as McKay fiddled with his electronics. "Is this going to work, McKay?"

"Relax! I have a cunning plan." Rodney waited a beat for a snort of laughter until he remembered that it wasn't Sheppard with whom he was joking. Ronon was still a little shaky on Earth TV shows, so he didn't catch the reference.

Sheppard would have.

Meeting the neutral gaze of Ronon, McKay sighed. "Uh, yeah, it will work."

Ronon raised a shoulder in confusion and then went back to guarding as Rodney looked over the set-up in the small refrigerator.

-------

John's visits for the next week were limited, both by Carson's concern for his injuries and by John's deteriorating outlook.

His team took turns in trying to draw him out of his cold anger, but nothing was working. Not Teyla's calm support, not Ronon's silent solidarity and definitely not by Rodney's verbal torrents about his flying lab monkeys making mistakes.

One of the nurses was taking his vitals when John turned his gaze from the ceiling and glared. "I want to leave."

The nurse blinked. "Sir, I'll have to speak to Dr. Beckett—"

"Never mind," replied John as he pushed himself up and started searching for his clothing—hell, any clothing. When he found none, he settled for taking the white sheet from the bed to cover his loose gown.

He was out the door before the nurse could call for Carson.

-------

John shuffled by his room and changed into jeans and a soft gray pullover before wandering out onto one of the many balconies that lined Atlantis. He took a moment to watch the sun dogs and rainbows that were mixed in with the high clouds before going to his office.

They hadn't let him know about the official missions since he returned from the Cat Planet From Hell. He kept asking, but they kept putting him off. He found it disorientating not knowing what his people were doing.

Before going to sit at his desk, he stopped and did a little fiddling to the door.

He was very satisfied when the door closed with a hiss.

Now maybe he would get some peace and quiet.

-------

A tiny red light was blinking the next time Rodney checked on his equipment near his team's refrigerator. They had expected results long before now, but the prey was wiley and selective.

McKay rubbed his hands together in glee and popped up a viewing screen to look over the newest surveillance footage.

He shook his head in disbelief at the face of the thief as the figure leaned into the small fridge and took the decoy container with Ronon's name in big black letters on the lid.

"Oh, you poor, poor idiot," Rodney murmured. Then his lips twisted into a smirk.

Time to tell Ronon.

-------

Lorne wasn't a happy man as he walked into the infirmary and found a beehive of activity. Nurses were calling back and forth to each other as Beckett and two of his doctors were having an intense argument in the center of the room.

"Doc?"

Beckett turned to Lorne with a dour expression. "Major, thank God you're here. Your idiot of a CO decided he could check himself out of medical care. He left a few minutes ago."

Lorne sighed and wondered if he should have brought his P-90 and vest. Hunting John Sheppard in Atlantis was never a fun activity when the Colonel didn't want to be found. "Anyone catch which direction he was headed?"

Beckett shook his head. "No."

"Is he going to be okay? Physically?"

Carson hesitated. "He's still not at his best in the health department. It's not that I'm the most concerned with."

The Major left the infirmary as he called the control room for a trace and for a couple of teams to search.

-------

Rodney was still packing up his spying equipment when Lorne called him over the headset.

"McKay?"

"Yes, hey, busy here," sniped Rodney as he made sure the disc of information was securely stashed in his jacket so he could show it to Ronon. Hopefully, that would mean his part of the Ronon deal was over and he could go back to working in his labs without looking over his shoulder.

"Rodney," said Lorne's voice in exasperation. "Have you seen the Colonel in the last, say, ten minutes?"

Rodney raised his hands in disbelief and slapped them against his thighs. "Oh, don't tell me you've lost him? You know how hard I had to work to get him back to Atlantis?"

"So, you haven't seen him?"

McKay absently zipped up the soft, padded equipment case. He played with the zipper pull for a moment and then sighed. "No, I haven't seen him, but I think I know where you can look."

-------

John sat at his desk and drew in a deep breath and let it hiss out as he pushed at a few papers that lay in front of him.

Normal stuff. Just a few requisition forms, a few reviews of the newer personnel. A blank form that was for the upcoming peer evaluation of Elizabeth's leadership of the base.

The outbox on his desk was empty, but obviously someone had been working in the office. Must have been Lorne.

The inbox had a few memos and six mission reports from the recon teams.

He didn't pay much attention to the memos, but he was interested in the mission reports since he had been out of the loop. Flipping past the top page, John went to the meat of the report. The planet designations on the reports started the slow burn in his gut. A burn that turned into churning when he absorbed what he was reading.

They were scouting out new sites.

He almost threw up when the next report specifically mentioned setting up a new Listening Post.

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Lorne thudded up to the door of Sheppard's office like a boy being forced to go to the principle's office. Hell, if Sheppard wanted to be alone, then he should be alone. Who was he to get in the way?

He owed the guy after letting Sheppard get dragged off by the cat creatures. Lorne turned to walk away when his radio hissed.

"Is he there?" asked McKay's impatient voice.

Damn, caught. Lorne keyed his radio. "I just got here, McKay, give me a second."

Lorne swept his hand over the control but the door stayed firmly shut. He pressed his hand to the smooth surface and thought hard. It didn't budge.

"Well?" asked McKay.

"I don't think he wants visitors right now, McKay," replied Lorne after a moment of indecision. Hey, Beckett said he was okay . . . basically. Maybe the man just needed some quiet and space right now.

"Leave it up to you and he'll. . . never mind. I'll be there in a minute," huffed the scientist.

Whoops, there goes the quiet.

-------

"If I don't have a hulking barbarian manipulating me into helping find out who's stealing his goodies, I have incompetent military pilots . . . " Rodney trailed off as he reached Sheppard's office and all but shoved Lorne out of his way.

He spent all of two seconds trying to open the door before pounding on the flat surface. "Sheppard, I know you're in there! Open up!"

Silence.

"I'm not kidding here, Colonel. I'll-I'll superglue your P-90." Rodney leaned into the door and tried to think at the opening mechanism. "And I'll hide all your Johnny Cash CDs."

The door swished open to show a pale Colonel who seemed to have a bad case of the shakes.

"Oh, well, good," said McKay as he crossed the threshold before Sheppard could change his mind. The scientist turned back to Lorne in the hallway. "I got it from here, Major. Let Beckett know where he is."

Then Rodney tried for the dramatic 'shut the door in Lorne's face', but the door stubbornly stayed open. He turned to Sheppard. "What happened to the door?"

The Colonel seemed to straighten a bit. "Well . . . uh, here." He pulled out a small panel and touched a few things. The door shut.

Rodney's jaw was hanging. "Wait, wait, wait. When did you . . . oh, I see. You lulled me."

Sheppard turned away and made it back to his desk. "Lulled?" he asked hazily.

"Yes. You swagger in with your flyboy hair and your 'cool' and made me forget. You are smart. You lulled me."

Sheppard didn't seem to be listening, so it was surprising when he answered. "Well, I do watch you on missions, Rodney." He put out a shaky hand and grabbed up a piece of paper. "Did you know?" he asked as he shoved the paper at his friend.

Rodney looked down long enough to see the planet designation. He let out a long breath. The type of long breath he usually reserved for 'oh, my god, you just blew up five-sixths of a solar system.' "Yes," he said quietly.

The Colonel didn't say anything else, just sat in his executive chair and stared into space with the paper clutched tightly in his hand.

"Elizabeth thought a new Listening Post would—"

Sheppard put up a tired hand that shook. "I . . . hell. I can't talk about it right now, Rodney. Let's just sit here for a while, okay?"

"Okay," repeated McKay as he sat in one of the extra chairs.

-------

Weir was worried. Very worried. Rodney had finally gotten Sheppard to turn himself in to Beckett and to continue his bed rest, but the simmering anger was gone.

In it's place was a physical silence that seemed to suck all surrounding noise and light in like a blackhole.

Rodney told her that Sheppard was aware of the new L.P. plans, but John had yet to bring it up in her presence.

The few times she'd tried to get him talking, he'd begged off by indicating the letters he was trying to finish for the families of those killed by the female Ungue.

Neither brought up the fact that he only seemed to be working on them when she wanted to see him.

TBC