We Come In Peace----Chapter 11
Sharon Woodrow knew she had nothing concrete, but the more she thought about Carl Shelling's team and the way they died, the surer she was that he'd been negligent in causing their deaths. She'd toyed with the idea of confronting him, but she knew that would be a rookie mistake and could end in her death if what she suspected was even close to the truth. There was only one person she trusted enough to talk to, but even Samantha Carter would need more than just her word. How could she prove her suspicions before anyone else was killed because of Shelling?
She'd been back to the Shanderra before it disappeared, but had been unable to dig through the rubble at the entrance to the underground labyrinth. The Gelinyte device had warned them that the planet was unstable and would disappear within two hours and they'd had to leave without any definitive answers. Without more evidence, there was very little she could do except look into Shelling's background and find out if there was anything that could solidify her beliefs.
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Cameron Mitchell shifted on the bed and waited impatiently for Carolyn Lam to start her shift. He wanted to get out and back on his feet, but so far his CMO was adamant about him staying off his feet. He knew she was probably right because so far when he did try to stand, pain shot through is lower extremities. He knew Erostian had done a lot of damage, but he wasn't sure exactly what he'd done that was making him so damn weak. Sighing heavily, he decided one way or the other he was getting out of here today.
Mitchell frowned when Carolyn Lam made several long notations on his chart. It had been nearly three weeks since his ordeal with the Shanderrans had ended and he wanted out of the infirmary. Lam had told him she would think about it and that his release depended on the results of his latest tests. He knew she was worried about his lack of sleep, but he managed to pass it off as being a result of staying in the infirmary.
"Come on, Carolyn, I feel great and I…"
"You may fool your friends, Colonel, but I'm not so sure you 'feel great'. According to my notes and the notes of the nurses you aren't eating properly and that sleep is only possible with the help of a strong sleeping pill. Those are not the signs of a man who 'feels great'."
"Look, Carolyn, I'm tired of being stuck in this bed when I can sleep so much better in my own bed," Mitchell tried.
"I'm sure you probably could, but I'm not ready to release you completely…and I also want you to speak with Dr. Diego."
"I don't need a shrink…"
"Oh, I don't know if I'd agree with that," Vala said upon entering the infirmary with a hint of a smile on her face.
"Not you too?" Mitchell snapped impatiently. "Okay I'll agree to speak with Dr. Diego, but I can easily do that as an out patient can't I?"
"I'll make the appointments…"
"And I'll see that he keeps them," Mal Doran offered. "What about medications and changing his bandages?"
"Well, he won't be that far away and I'll be able to take care of those things if he's an out patient…"
"Are you finished mapping out my future?"
"Be quit, Cam," Vala lightly scolded as she folded her arms across her chest. "I could be his private…"
"Not for a minute!" Mitchell snapped, wincing as he slid his legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. Unfortunately the wounds on his legs were not healed and the strength had not returned. If not for Vala and Carolyn's quick reaction he would have wound up on the floor.
"Hmm, Colonel, should I remind you that you're still not wearing proper clothing," Lam said with a grin and handed the injured man a bathrobe.
"Thanks, but I'd rather have my own clothes," Mitchell told her, reluctantly pulling on the robe and tying it around the waist.
"I prefer the other look…without the robe," Mal Doran said, eyes sparkling mischievously. She'd spent a lot of time at Mitchell's bedside since he'd been brought in and wanted more time with him. She'd jokingly brought up being his private nurse, but the truth was she was dead serious with the offer. She reached out to untie the robe, but he slapped at her hands. "Come on, Cam, let's…"
"Say goodbye, Vala!" Mitchell told her. "Doc, isn't visiting hours over?"
"They are if you're a patient, Colonel, but as of two minutes ago you can return to your quarters…"
"What? Why didn't you say so?" Mitchell asked indignantly.
"Because you were too busy trying to stand on your own two feet," Lam told him. "Colonel, I'm telling you right now that you are going to have to take things slow and easy. The wounds to your leg are healing, but whatever the Shanderran's did has caused a lot of soft tissue damage and that takes time to heal. I'm recommending you use a wheelchair for…"
"No, I don't need…"
"Colonel, would you like a repeat of what happened a few minutes ago. If so then by all means stand on your own and I'll simply tear up these orders and help you back to bed," Lam warned.
"Carolyn, how long?" Mitchell asked and knew she understood what he was asking.
"I don't have a definitive answer for you, Colonel. I'm recommending physiotherapy to help build your strength back up. Look, Cam, it's going to take some time, but if there's one thing I know it's that you are stubborn and that you won't give up."
"I won't," Mitchell agreed.
"Good, now you just rest here and I'll get a wheelchair."
Mitchell knew there was no point in arguing and he turned his head toward the woman who was standing with her back to him. He reached out and took her hand, smiling as she turned to face him. She made a show of grabbing several tissues and swiping at her right eye while speaking.
"Damn it there's something in my eye," Mal Doran said and grabbed another tissue and dabbed again.
"Wrong eye," Mitchell told her.
"What?" Mal Doran asked and plopped down on the bed beside him. "Sorry, I wish there was something I could do to help."
"There is…you are helping, Vala, more than you realize," Mitchell told the strong woman. Again he reached for her hand and smiled when she stared into his eyes. "I know you've been with me…sitting here after everyone else has gone home. I saw you watching me and felt you fighting to bring me back when I was first brought in. You saved my life, Vala, and I owe you."
"You owe me nothing, Cam…I just want you to promise me you'll keep fighting and not give up when things look bad."
"I'll do my best," the colonel promised, releasing her hand when Lam returned with the hated chair.
"Am I interrupting something…I could come back," the physician said with a knowing grin.
"No, thanks, Carolyn, but I'm ready to sleep in a bed that doesn't come with monitoring equipment and a room where I'm not poked and prodded or stuck with needles," Mitchell quipped.
"You keep this up and I'm going to get a complex," Lam told him.
"Sorry, I know you're just doing your job…"
"It's not a job, Colonel, at least not for me."
"I know…and I appreciate everything you've done," Mitchell said, eyes downcast as they helped him into the wheelchair.
"It's just so easy to put one over on you, Colonel. I want you back here tomorrow at ten for some blood work and I'll need to check those wounds," the physician said.
"You're the boss…
"That I am, Colonel, now, Vala, why don't you get him out of here before I change my mind," Lam said with a soft chuckle as Mal Doran took control of the chair.
"Cam, should I head straight for your quarters or do you prefer a scenic route?" Vala asked, nodding to several people they passed.
"I'd rather not talk to anyone right now," Mitchell told her. He knew there were people at the base who'd been worried about him, but right now he didn't want to face anyone while stuck in the wheelchair. It was something that ate at his insides and the idea that he was helpless surfaced before he could stop it. There were other times when he'd been wheelchair bound, but none had affected him as much as that first time…years ago when he'd been told he might never walk again. He'd proven the therapists wrong then and prayed he could repeat the outcome this time. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore Vala's chatter, yet a part of him was grateful that she was with him.
"Hello, Miss Mal Doran…Mitchell it's good to see you out and about."
"Thank you, Shelling," Mitchell said, unaware that his voice had an icy quality to it. Shelling had been angry when Mitchell had taken O'Neill's spot on SG1, yet the man had tried hard not to show it.
"How long before you're back on the roster?"
"He was just released from the infirmary and you're asking him how long…"
"I was just curios as a friend…"
'You and I were never friends,' Mitchell thought, wondering why Shelling was feigning interest in his wellbeing. "Stop…look, Shelling, I don't know when I'll be cleared to return, but thanks for asking. Vala, my head is killing me so if you're through arguing with him could we please get to my quarters?"
"I assure you it was simply concern for a colleague. I'm glad to see you got your walking papers," Shelling said, smiling at the effect his small, intentional dig had on the injured man. 'So, she's helping you while you're off duty…hmm, wonder what else you two will be up to,' Shelling whistled softly and made his way toward stargate command. Things were really looking up and just maybe he'd be able to put his plan in motion sooner than expected.
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Hank Landry stood in the doorway and watched the physio therapist working with Mitchell. The younger man had been working hard to get back on his feet, but so far his legs just didn't seem ready to support him. Carolyn's report was thorough and expressed her worries that there could be some underlying causes to the weakness. Unfortunately, without more information on what the Shanderrans had injected him with, there was very little she could do. She was hopeful that with time and hard work, Colonel Cameron Mitchell would receive a clean bill of health. So far they had the time, and if Mitchell was as stubborn as his file indicated then the hard work was also a plus.
Carolyn had also told him she wanted Mitchell to speak with Dr. Diego and Landry readily agreed. It was a normal part of the routine in cases such as Mitchell's and he would make it an order if he had to. For now he was willing to let Mitchell take things in stride.
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Mitchell groaned as his therapist released his leg and helped him sit up. She'd been thorough in going through the exercises and giving him several he could do on his own. Right now his legs were throbbing and it felt as if his nerves were on fire, but that was something he could live with, it gave him hope that he would recover from his ordeal at the hands of the Shanderrans.
"You did very well for your fist session, Colonel," Melanie Redding assured him while making several notations on his chart.
"Thanks…feel like I ran a marathon," Mitchell told her.
"In a way you did. We need to keep on top of the exercises in order to build the strength back up," the therapist said and smiled when Landry entered the room. "Good morning, General."
"Good morning," Landry said and turned his attention to the injured man. It was easy to read the lines of pain and the evidence of perspiration that darkened his hair. "Well, Colonel, you look like you've been put through the ringer."
"And then some, Sir. She's thorough," Mitchell said and smiled at the therapist who simply raised her eyebrows and turned back to the chart.
"That's good to hear," Landry told him. "I want you back on your feet and that won't happen if you get lazy."
"He won't have time to get lazy, General," Redding assured them both and handed Mitchell a sheet of instructions outlining what he should be doing on a daily basis.
"Thanks…I think," Mitchell said and looked at the wheelchair. He shifted slightly and manipulated his body until he could slide onto the seat, but had to accept Redding's help when his arms threatened to give out. "Damn it!"
"Easy, Colonel, we talked about this," the therapist told him. "It will take time for your strength to come back. From what I've read in your file there are a number of variables that caused the damage and that means it could take a number of different practices to bring you all the way back."
"I just hate…"
"Having to rely on others?" Landry asked and watched Mitchell nod slightly. "Just keep working at it and you'll be all the way back before you know it."
"Yes, Sir," Mitchell said and used the controls to work the wheelchair and aimed for the door as Landry fell in beside him.
"Colonel, how would you like to keep busy between your therapy sessions?" Landry asked.
"What do you have in mind, Sir?"
"Well, there are several missions coming up and we'd like to set some parameters since there'll be several new people involved. Colonel Shelling will have his hands full with a new team…"
"A new team? What happened to…does this have anything to do with the Shanderrans?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it does. Shelling's team was lost during the rescue mission…"
"All of them?" Mitchell asked, horrified that he hadn't been told about the team before now.
"All except Colonel Shelling. He was cut off from his team by the Shanderrans and couldn't get to them," Landry answered.
"Did we…did they recover the bodies?"
"No, SG3 found Colonel Shelling and he told them there was no point in attempting to recover the bodies and that you were their top priority. SG3 has been back to the planet, but they were unsuccessful in finding an alternate entrance to the underground caves. There was a memorial service for the members of SG5…"
"I should have been there…they gave up their lives because of me," Mitchell said sadly.
"No, they gave up their lives doing their job, Colonel...don't make their effort be for naught by shouldering guilt when it's not yours to shoulder," Landry warned as they made their way toward Stargate Command. "Now, you still haven't answered my question about helping out with mission parameters."
"I'll do what I can, Sir," Mitchell told him.
"That's all I ask," Landry assured him. "When is your session with Dr. Diego?"
"Tomorrow afternoon," Mitchell answered, nodding to several people he knew.
"Excellent…what are your plans this morning?"
"I don't have anything until I see Dr. Lam this afternoon."
"Then you might as well join this morning's meeting with Shelling and his team. The rest of SG1 are already in attendance and I doubt anyone would mind you being there," Landry said.
"Thank you, Sir," Mitchell told him and followed the older man into the conference room.
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Carl Shelling fought the urge to lash out and forced a smile to his face when Landry held the door and allowed Cameron Mitchell access to the room. His hatred for the injured man had come form no where and yet he was finding it hard not to act on his feelings. It had felt right when he'd entered the conference room and found SG1 waiting for him. His first thought had been that Landry was giving him the team, but now it looked as if the man had something else in mind. He saluted smartly before taking his seat next to Carter and fisted his hands under the table as Landry moved a chair out of the way so Mitchell could maneuver the chair into position.
"I hope you don't mind that I asked Colonel Mitchell to sit in on this meeting," Landry said.
"Not at all, Sir," Shelling managed without showing the anger building inside him.
"The reason for this meeting is to pick new members of SG3 and I thought Colonel Shelling could use some inside information since SG1 has worked with several of the candidates," Landry offered.
'I should have SG1…not Mitchell! I am not going to let him take SG1 away from me again. I'll see him dead first!' Shelling thought as several files were slid across the table.
