Nightwalker – Chapter 10

He woke up slowly, sounds and feelings gradually beginning to penetrate the fog. When awareness crept in enough for him to realize he was in the infirmary, he felt a moment of panic. He did not yet have a sense of time or any memory of what had landed him here. On top of that, his limbs felt disconnected and heavy and he could not seem to move any part of his body. But as soon as the panic began to rise within him, he felt a calming presence, almost like a comforting hand on his shoulder, easing the tension threatening to overwhelm him. He steadied his breathing and relaxed, letting the sensations soak in as his thoughts became more lucid and memories began to revive. Slowly he found enough strength to move his hands and feet, twitching his fingers and toes and trying to stretch.

The soft murmur of whispered voices began to sink in. "I think he's waking up."

"What? He's waking up? It's about time, my gosh, how much can one person sleep? You better go get Carson and tell him to get over here."

He managed to move his arm a bit and felt the familiar tug of something. He knew this . . . an IV. He found he could move his legs a little and shifted them slightly just because he could. Another invasion, one that indicated he'd been unconscious for quite a while. All he could remember was going to sleep in the infirmary, but he was pretty sure it hadn't involved IVs and catheters.

"Okay, Colonel, beauty rest is over with. The nurse went to fetch Carson and he's going to want to shine that pesky light in your eyes, so you might as well wake up."

He really wanted to open his eyes and see just how much trouble he was in. He wanted to ask McKay what he was doing here and what had happened. But his eyelids and voice weren't quite under his control just yet. It did feel like the ability to twitch his hand had progressed beyond just the fingers, though, so he was making progress.

"Has he said anything yet?" Sheppard recognized Beckett's voice moving nearer as he spoke.

"Said anything? I can't even get him to open his lazy eyes. I know he's awake, I can see his hands and legs moving."

"Colonel, can you open your eyes?"

Sheppard concentrated on doing just that. He thought maybe he finally got them to jerk a few times before quitting in exhaustion. And then suddenly, he was so tired he almost hurt. His limbs took on that heavy feeling again and the voices began to fade. He fought it for a few minutes and then just let it slip away.

oOo

McKay sat typing on his laptop, periodically glancing over at Sheppard as he lay sleeping, making sure the man was still breathing. In spite of the fact the Carson said he was fine, he still looked pale to Rodney. That and he'd been unconscious for three days. Three long days during which Sheppard only moved to breathe, his stillness setting everyone on edge.

McKay had thought the colonel was finally waking up earlier that morning, but it had been a false alarm. Carson said it had been close, though, and that it was probably a sign he'd come to pretty soon. So Rodney had settled down to sit by the colonel's side until he opened his eyes and was actually cognizant again.

Movement caught his eye and he looked up in time to see Sheppard sit straight up in bed. He stopped typing, his fingers in mid-air for a few seconds.

"Colonel?" Sheppard blinked a few times and then slowly turned his head to look at McKay.

"Hey," he said simply, his voice rough and low.

McKay quickly got up and set the laptop down on the floor. Moving to the bed, he poured a cup of water from the pitcher on the table and held it out to Sheppard. The pilot tried to take the cup, but his hand was shaking so badly that McKay continued to help hold it as Sheppard guided it to his mouth. After a few sips, McKay pulled the cup away and set it back down. "Not too much, Colonel."

McKay raised the head of the bed and Sheppard collapsed back against the pillows. He breathed out a soft sigh as he relaxed against the bed, the effort of sitting up having sucked up all available energy. He let his head loll to one side so he could see McKay.

"How long?" His voice was still so weak and soft that McKay could barely hear him.

"Three days. Do you remember what happened?"

Sheppard shifted his eyes up to the ceiling without moving his head. "Not really, just . . . going to bed here."

"You disappeared sometime during the night or early morning. We searched for hours before we finally found you working on the Ancient console, trading the crystals around. Then you just got up and activated it. It works, by the way. It's an energy scanner, looks for non-Ancient energy sources."

Sheppard frowned. "Don't remember."

Rodney sighed and looked down at the floor, rubbing his jaw. "I was afraid of that. I never could get you to answer me, so I figured you were sleepwalking. You collapsed soon after you activated the console and you've been unconscious ever since. Carson said he thought you'd be fine, just exhausted mostly. Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

Sheppard frowned as if thinking. "Weird dreams about Atlantis."

"What kind of dreams?" Rodney leaned forward in his chair, straining to make sure he didn't miss anything.

Sheppard rubbed his forehead. "I don't know . . . I was lost in an old section of the city, I think. It was dark and damp and . . . very, very nasty. I think maybe I fell a lot and . . . I was looking for something . . . " Sheppard shook his head as he trailed off, yawning and leaning his head back against the pillows. "I'm not sure, it's kind of fuzzy. I'm tired."

McKay leaped to his feet. "No, no, no, don't go back to sleep. Hold on, let me get Carson." McKay walked quickly across the infirmary, muttering to himself. "What's with him, you can't get him to go to sleep and now he won't stay awake. What is he, a narcoleptic all of a sudden? Oh, and then he fixes stuff and can't remember what he did? What good is he?"

Sheppard grinned at the feeling of normalcy. He was more tired than he ever remembered being in his life, but he felt peaceful, at ease. Gone was the stress and tension that had been eating at him for the last few weeks. He couldn't explain it, the Genii and the Wraith were still out there and yet he sat here smiling.

"Colonel? Lad, can you hear me?"

Sheppard fought to open his eyes again, surprised that he had allowed them to close. Several blinks later, he was looking at Beckett. "Doc? Hey."

"Hey yourself, Colonel. Good to see you awake finally. Rodney tells me he filled you in on what happened. How do you feel?"

Even as he quit talking, Beckett came at him with the dreaded penlight. Sheppard found himself flinching away, the light stabbing into his head and making him see bright dots after the light was gone.

"A little light sensitive I see. How about the headache?"

"Not until you hit me with the light. I think it's going away, along with all the pretty dots you stirred up. Other than that, I'm just tired, really, really tired."

Beckett continued to fuss, taking Sheppard's pulse and blood pressure before listening to his chest with the stethoscope. Sheppard was beginning to doze off as he finished.

"What's wrong with him?" asked McKay. "He keeps going to sleep."

"Nothing wrong," mumbled Sheppard as he struggled to open his eyes again.

McKay snorted. "Like you'd know, and like you'd tell us if you did. Seriously, Carson, there's something wrong when you can't stay awake more than five minutes at a time. Can't you look this up in your witchdoctor book or something?"

"Well, I admit, I'm a wee bit concerned myself, but in all likelihood, the colonel is just exhausted from the loss of sleep and from the strain of the interaction with that Ancient device he activated. His vital signs are all within normal parameters and his blood work came back clean. Just give him some time, Rodney."

"Time," repeated Sheppard, his eyes now closed, and both men smiled as they realized he probably had no idea what he was repeating, much less what the conversation was about.

"I just hope this experience didn't damage any brain cells, because he doesn't exactly have any extra to lose," commented McKay.

"Rodney, that's not very nice. The colonel isn't even able to defend himself."

"No, I suppose not. It's not much fun either. No point in insulting people if they aren't conscious enough to be insulted."

oOo

Sheppard decided that the third time must be a charm, because when he came to again, he was lucid and awake from the moment he opened his eyes. Gone was the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion and heaviness and he found he could move freely. He wasn't very happy to find the IV and catheter still in place, but he could beg for relief as soon as someone came to check on him.

His head automatically turned to the chair beside the bed, but he was disappointed to find it empty. He wasn't sure why, but he'd fully expected to see Rodney sitting there.

"I booted him out a couple of hours ago." Sheppard turned to see Beckett standing on the other side of the bed. Either the man had developed stealth skills, or Sheppard was more out of it that he cared to admit. "He was driving my staff crazy . . . well, and me too."

Sheppard nodded. "He can do that," he croaked, coughing a bit. He wondered if someone had stuck an old rag in his mouth while he slept, because that's what it felt and tasted like. He tried to lick his lips, but the moisture just wasn't there.

Beckett leaned over to raise the head of the bed and then poured a cup of water. Sheppard's hands were still shaking, but this time he was able to hold his own cup without dumping the contents all over the front of his hospital gown. He took a few sips and handed the cup back to Beckett.

"Thanks."

Beckett just nodded at him. "How do you feel?" Beckett watched his patient carefully, doing his own assessment even as he waited on the answer.

"Pretty good, actually. I'm still a little tired, but nothing like before. Headache seems to be gone and nothing hurts for once."

Beckett took in the relaxed posture and expression and decided that his patient was being honest with him for once. "Good. I think I'll send out for something for you to eat in a few minutes so we can start working on building your strength back up."

"Okay, I could eat. Doc . . . what happened to me?"

Beckett sighed and ran his hand through his hair, trying to decide the best way to answer the question. He finally decided on evasive maneuvers. "That will be a lot easier to explain when Rodney is here, and maybe Kate. I'd also like to wait until we can explain it to Elizabeth and you at the same time so we don't have to go through it twice. It's a wee bit complicated."

"Isn't it always," muttered Sheppard, shaking his head.

"Aye, it usually is. I'll see about that food."

"Doc? Could we take care of some other matters first?"

Beckett grinned as he patted Sheppard's leg. "I've been waiting on you to ask. Now I know you'll be all right. Just sit still for me and I'll be back in a minute."

True to his word, Beckett returned a minute later with some gloves and pulled the privacy curtain. Another minute found Sheppard free of both the IV and the catheter. As soon as the curtain had been pulled back, Beckett took Sheppard by the arm and began helping him toward the bathroom. He could tell the colonel was surprised and frustrated at how heavily he had to lean against the doctor at first.

"Keep in mind, Colonel, that you've been unconscious for four days now. You're bound to be a little weak."

"I know but . . . I really hate this."

By the time they reached the bathroom, Sheppard was supporting most of his own weight. "How about a shower and some scrubs?" he asked, looking forlornly at the gown.

Beckett hesitated. "Colonel, I'm not sure. Maybe you should wait until after you've had something to eat."

"I can do it. Look, I won't stay in long. Just let me wash off the grime and get my circulation going again."

Beckett had no idea how a full grown colonel in his mid-thirties could make himself look like a kid, but when Sheppard was truly pleading, that was exactly what happened. It was like telling a seven year old he couldn't have a puppy. Beckett opened his mouth to say no, and heard himself say yes instead. He was slowly loosing his touch.

Sheppard pulled away from Beckett before the man changed his mind andBeckett found himself suddenly looking at the door. "Colonel, don't stay in there too long and call me if you get into trouble. I'll drop you some scrubs off in a minute."

"'Kay, Doc, thanks," came the muffled reply as the sounds of running water fired up.

Beckett just shook his head as he walked across the infirmary. He sent one of the nurses out for a bowl of soup and returned a few minutes later with scrubs, which he deposited in the bathroom.

"Are you all right?" he couldn't help but ask as he stuck his arm in the door to deposit the change of clothes.

"Great. Be out in a minute."

As he closed the door, Marcy brought him a chart to check over. After reading the entry, he noted a change in the medication order and signed it. When she left, Beckett realized the water had stopped running several minutes ago. He knocked on the door.

"Colonel, you still all right in there?" After several seconds of silence, he knocked again. "Colonel, if you don't answer me, I'm coming in."

When there was still no answer, his pulse quickened as he palmed the door controls. He was a bit relieved to see Sheppard standing there holding his shirt in his hands, his pants already on.

"Colonel, why didn't you answer me? You had me worried there, lad." It was then he noticed the glassy-eyed stare and that the colonel had not moved since he had entered the room. He walked over to stand in front of the man, waving his hand in front of his face. Sheppard didn't so much as flinch.

"Oh, crap, Colonel, what's happened to you now? Colonel Sheppard, can you hear me? Colonel Sheppard?" Beckett snapped his fingers in front of Sheppard's face. The pilot finally blinked a couple of times and looked at Beckett. Obviously somewhat disoriented, he looked down at the shirt in his hands before looking back up at the doctor.

"Hey, Doc. What are you doing in here?"

Beckett puffed out a long sigh of relief. "You wouldn't answer me and I got worried."

Sheppard raised his brows. "I'm sorry . . . guess I didn't hear you."

Beckett took his arm and began pulling him to the door. "Let's get you back to bed."

Sheppard resisted Beckett's efforts to steer him out the door. "Doc, my shirt."

"Oh, right. Let me help you with that."

"I can do it," Sheppard said petulantly as he twisted away from Beckett and pulled the shirt over his head. He got one arm stuck while partially through the arm hole and staggered a bit as he tried to pull it loose. Beckett grabbed his shoulder to keep him from toppling over until he was able to finish pulling the shirt down over his chest.

"Thanks, Doc," he said as he steadied himself. "I'm kind of tired now."

Beckett nodded. "I'm sure you are, lad. Let's get you back to bed. Your soup should be here in a minute." Beckett took him be the arm and guided him back to bed, noticing that Sheppard didn't argue or pull away. He mentally made a list of tests he wanted to run, now concerned that Sheppard was beginning to suffer from some kind of after effects.

After getting the pilot settled in bed, complete with freshly changed sheets, he stood back. "Colonel, after you eat I want to –"

"Call McKay."

Beckett stood with his mouth still open from where he'd been interrupted. Sheppard's expression seemed more focused now, but he was grinning and twisting anxiously in the bed. "What?"

"Call McKay and tell him I need to see him. I know where I got the crystals."

Beckett frowned and tilted his head to one side as he brought his hand up to cradle his chin. "What just happened in there?"

Sheppard licked his lips and looked distant for a second. "I'm not sure, but . . . I think Atlantis was talking to me. I know where I got the crystals, she showed me."

Beckett took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Atlantis was talking to you? How do you feel, do you have a headache, any dizziness?"

Sheppard shook his head, grin still firmly in place. "No, I'm fine, really. I just felt a little weird there for a minute, but it passed. Please, Doc, call Rodney, I really need to talk to him."

Beckett held up his hand. "All right, all right. I'll call him as soon as you eat something." As if on cue, the nurse brought a tray with a bowl of watery looking soup and set it down on the rolling table, moving it so that it was over Sheppard's lap.

Sheppard sat looking at the blue-gray concoction in front of him. He picked up the spoon and swirled it around for a few seconds, noting there didn't seem to be anything solid in the bowl.

"I thought you said you wanted me to eat something?"

"I did," replied Beckett. "That's it."

"This is not food. I'm not sure what it is, but it's not food. It's colored water."

"Colonel, you haven't had any food in your system for four days. I can't very well serve you meat loaf and mashed potatoes. You know the drill, you start out with liquids and then slowly progress to more solid food."

The glare from Beckett made Sheppard feel like a scolded child who had asked a ridiculous question. Yes, he knew the drill, but this wasn't edible, as far as he could tell, and his stomach was growling rather loudly. Meat loaf and mashed potatoes sounded pretty good right now. He wanted something to eat, as in chew.

"What about a cracker or a piece of bread or something?"

"Maybe later. Eat your soup." Beckett stood firm, his arms crossed and his expression stern.

Sheppard swirled the spoon around a few more times, finally scooping up a spoonful and guardedly slurping it up. He immediately dropped the spoon back in the bowl and made a rather unpleasant gagging sound. He grabbed his glass of water and swallowed several mouthfuls. "I know it doesn't sound possible, but it tastes worse than it looks."

Beckett shook his head and looked down, rubbing his hand across his forehead. He finally sighed deeply as he brought his head back up to look at Sheppard. Sheppard swallowed hard, unsure of how he was getting out of this one.

"Colonel, you really are awake." Saved by the Rodney!

"Hey, McKay," greeted Sheppard enthusiastically.

"Oh, and Carson, thanks for calling me when Sheppard woke up like you said you would," said Rodney sarcastically.

Beckett had a shocked expression plastered on his face that he didn't seem to be able to rid himself of. "How did you . . . Rodney, I didn't call you. How –"

"Yeah, I know you didn't call me, and thanks for that. Radek talked to the nurse in the mess hall and called me to let me know." He turned to Sheppard. "I would have been here sooner, but it seems there's been a breakdown in communication around here, and the breakdown is named Carson."

Beckett sighed in exasperation. "Well I was a little busy getting the Colonel settled after he woke up. You know the first thing he does is want all support systems pulled out so he can jump in the bloody shower right away."

"Actually, he was using you for blackmail," added Sheppard.

"Me, for blackmail? Why Carson, I'm flattered. How'd he do that?"

"I told him to call you because Atlantis showed me where I got the crystals, but he said he wouldn't call you until I ate this . . . gruel."

McKay peered over the bowl. "Looks like dirty dishwater to me."

"Hah!" said Sheppard triumphantly. "Even McKay thinks it's nasty."

"You don't really expect him to . . . " McKay suddenly turned and looked at Sheppard. "Did you just say you knew where the crystals came from and that Atlantis showed you?"

Sheppard nodded, the silly grin from before rapidly reappearing on his face.

"Well, hurry up man, eat your soup. We have to talk." McKay snapped his fingers at Sheppard.

Sheppard looked back down at the bowl of gray liquid and frowned. He tentatively dipped his finger in it and licked it off, once again grimacing at the taste. "Okay, here goes. I'm not responsible if it doesn't stay where I put it."

He took a deep breath and held it, as if he was about to dive under water. Picking the bowl up, he tilted it to his face and quickly gulped the liquid contents down. Slamming the bowl down on the table, he wiped his mouth with the back of his left hand while going for the glass of water with his right. A few loud gulps later, the glass was empty and Sheppard looked a bit shell-shocked.

"Are you all right, Colonel?" asked Beckett, taken aback by his patient's quick method of disposing of the offending meal.

Sheppard sat there for a few seconds and then burped loudly. He face registered relief and his expression and shoulders relaxed. "I'm good."

TBC

NOTE: Okay, I got a little more long-winded on this chapter than I meant to. Kind of got caught up in the whole infirmary thing – guess you've noticed my weakness for that. I'll try not to dawdle too much more. Thanks for being so patient.