Chapter Four

Desperate Times, Desperate Measures

I was becoming aware of noises around me. I heard the soft shuffling of feet, and murmured voices; in their effort to keep quiet they spoke in hushed tones, but it only served to remind me of a funeral. I wasn't dead, so what's up with the walking on eggshells around me?

I opened my eyes, and was surprised to find McKay staring at me. If I hadn't been strapped down, I probably would've fallen out of the bed. As it was, I jerked back, as far as you can go on an infirmary mattress with your wrists and ankles tied down, and the movement sent waves of nausea rolling through my gut. "Jesus, McKay, what the hell are you doing?" I snarled. Surprisingly, my voice worked pretty good, which meant I hadn't been out for long.

"One could ask you the same thing?" McKay retorted, and he ran an angry hand through his thin hair. "What were you doing, attacking Beckett, and the infirmary crew? You know that blond nurse that has a crush on you? I wouldn't worry about it anymore."

I groaned. Damn. I had gone berserk, thinking they were Wraith, and even though I knew in that rational part of my mind, that it was a hallucination, my body had reacted on pure reflex, and I had tried to get the hell out of there before I was dinner. "I thought they were Wraith," I explained.

"Apparently," McKay drawled.

I saw him move to my right side, pulling his head back from hovering over me, and heard him sit down in a chair. The downside to his change in location, I had to crane my head to make eye contact. What kind of small talk do you make? Nice to see you, sorry I flipped out, seemed kind of lame given the circumstances. Of course, it could be worse. They could have actually been Wraith.

"So," I twisted my neck, trying to look inconspicuous, which is kind of hard to do strapped down, "I guess I've acted a little crazy lately."

I heard McKay snort in his arrogant 'you don't know the half of it' way. "A little?"

I stared at the ceiling, trying to find something inane to focus on. I swear that was a spitball hanging to the right of the light. I made a mental note to talk to Ford, had to be him, he was a little kid in a six foot body. "Just tell me Beckett has a clue what's going on?"

Now I heard Rodney shift in his self-conscious manner. Who needed to look when you could hear everything the guy did? I had dubbed him open-book McKay, and never a truer statement had been said. "Not exactly."

"What exactly does he know?" I questioned acerbically.

McKay paused. I wasn't sure what was the cause of the delay, so I tore my gaze off the spitball, as fun as staring at it was, and contorted to the side to see him looking uncomfortable. "Well?" I prodded.

"He knows you're seeing things."

I stared at McKay. A second passed, and then another, and I could tell Rodney was wishing he was anywhere but here. I couldn't help it. I laughed. Of all the weird situations, this is one for the books. I was going crazy, and the best that the Chief Medical Officer could come up with, was that I was seeing things. Well give the dog a bone, and spank the Sparky, because that was about as obvious as the nose on McKay's face.

"I don't see what is so amusing, Major," Rodney huffed. "You could be suffering a psychotic break, or something."

"Or something," I said. It wasn't funny, but a psychotic break? Me? Never.

"I see you're looking better, Lad."

Beckett. I didn't reply to the better comment because clearly I had knocked him a good one, as there was nothing better about going from being a functioning individual, to a restrained man, and waiting for the next freak out episode of the day. When this was done and over, I'd have to give Carson some lessons in small talk.

Sure enough, his face peered down at me, and I inwardly winced at the damage. Hot damn, but I had slugged him a good one. His right eye was a mixture of black, and blue, and purples. The yellow and greens wouldn't kick in for a few days, and when they did, it'd be a spectacular show. That alone was bad enough, but as my eyes traveled downward I noted the swollen jaw and cracked lip. "Uh, Doc?" I cleared my throat nervously. "You aren't going to hold that against me, are you?"

I wasn't in a good position here. I'd beaten the one guy up whom at this moment, had total control. Carson smiled wide. "I'd never, Major."

McKay stood, and I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was brushing off his pants. What was on his pants? Crumbs? Ten to one, he'd smuggled in power bars, and been munching away while I lay senseless. What was it with him and eating? I hadn't totally bought the hypoglycemia thing, not yet, at least. I was still begrudging him the one he'd asked for when I'd been about two steps away from death on the Jumper. That bug had been killing me, and he was hungry?

"McKay, bring my football game," I asked him. We had plenty of computers that could play it, all they'd need to do is prop me up, and I'd be entertained for hours. Hail Mary, and all that, the popcorn could wait, although, they'd have to free my hands eventually so I could eat.

Beckett was shaking his head no before the words had barely passed my lips. Rodney shrugged, and gave me his best 'I tried', before heading out the door.

I waited, seething, for Beckett to explain himself. He busied himself taking my vitals, and shoved a thermometer in my mouth. What the hell good did a thermometer do? I'd think I'd know it if my hallucinations were the result of a high fever, if anything, I was freezing. The infirmary was kept cooler than the other rooms, and they'd only covered me in a sheet. I was still dressed in the scrubs, but the thin material did little to retain heat.

Beckett took the instrument out, checked the reading, and noted another number on my chart. He seemed blasé, and I was beginning to get that uncomfortable buzzing in the back of my mind. "Doc?"

He held the clipboard in front of him, almost as if it were a shield that'd protect him from another attack. He sighed. "I'll be honest, Major. I don't have a clue what's going on with you."

You know that saying about the truth hurting? Scratch that, the truth sucks. My Doctor, my lifeline out of this mess, was brutally blunt, and telling me he had no idea what was causing me to see things that weren't real. No ideas, no maybes, no possibilities, just an 'I don't know'. That wasn't the answer I wanted, and it wasn't the answer I needed.

I wasn't ready to voice McKay's suggestion, so I worked my jaw, trying to find words. "Can I go?" What the heck, right? He had no idea, and they couldn't keep me locked up indefinitely.

"Absolutely not," Beckett looked like I'd hit him again. If the situation hadn't been as rotten as it was, I probably would've laughed. Apparently the linebacker had been given a run for his money. It's funny what you can do when you're operating on pure adrenalin. "We're going to keep you for observation, and then "

"And then you don't know what you'll do, is that right?" I snarled. Now I was starting to get mad. Whatever was going on, I'd been cognizant since I had awoken, and I was getting tired of being immobile, and the open-ended timeframe for my stay wasn't making the situation look any better from my view. "At least take these off," I yanked up at the straps. "I'm not seeing things."

"Not now," Beckett declared, and I knew where he was going before he'd finished.

"Post guards, something, come on," I whined. I never whine, but I whined today. I guess there's one limit I've found. I can be put in a position where I will whine to get my way. Before coming here, I'd never have believed it. Of course, before coming here, there was a lot of stuff I never would've believed.

"If you start to notice anything different, you'll tell me, promise?"

"Cross my heart, swear to die, poke a needle in my eye," I repeated the stupid childhood rhyme that I probably said a thousand times as a kid. I don't even know where it came from, but it was spoken before I could take it back. I closed my eyes, jerking my head ever so slightly with disgust. What the hell was wrong with me?

When I opened my eyes, Beckett was gone. So, did I scare him off, or was he going to recruit my jailers, and let me up? I waited, and I tried to stay awake, but I found that my eyes were drooping shut of their own accord, and soon I was snoring blissfully unaware of the passage of time.

When next I awoke, the restraints were gone. I pushed myself up, and rubbed my wrists where the material had caused a fair amount of chafing. I must have been a restless sleeper, because I didn't recall it hurting before. I noticed about the same time that Markham and Stackhouse were guarding me. I smiled cockily, and gave them a small wave. They stood at attention, and as still as stone guards over an ancient cathedral. What was up with that?

I pushed myself off the bed, and that drew a reaction. Stackhouse came forward, ever so slightly. "What are you doing, Major?"

"I'm just using the little airmen's room, Sergeant."

Score one for the officer, that caused Markham to crack a small smile, but it was gone before it'd barely registered. I headed over, a little gingerly, seems that battle I'd had earlier hadn't left me unscathed either. As I aimed for the bathroom, I passed by Beckett's office, and I heard my name. Curious, I lingered, acting as if I had dropped something. There's a reason why those two were Sergeant's, because if they'd had their wits about them, they would've realized I didn't have anything to drop.

Instead, they seemed to be content that I wasn't making a break for it, and that was all that mattered. Beckett was talking to someone, sounded like Weir, and he said the test results on me were inconclusive. I heard Elizabeth's voice in the radio piece, but it was only noise, I couldn't make out individual words. Carson's reply caused my blood to freeze in my veins.

I panicked. I had to get out of here. Autopsy, what was going on here? Carson had told Elizabeth the only way they could determine what was happening, was to examine my brain. My brain! I threw a furtive look over my shoulder. Stackhouse and Markham looked ready to pounce. They had sensed something was wrong. The thing of it was, they'd made a crucial mistake. I was closer to the exit than they were. And, I had the ability to manipulate Atlantis tech unlike anyone else, certainly those two.

I bolted. I slid out the door, and willed it shut, and imagined the door locking behind me, and indeed, I heard the pounding and yelling on the other side, letting me know I had been successful. I had my back against the wall, and was checking out the corridor. There were a few people walking by, and they were staring at me, and taking mental notes. I had to find an area of the city that was isolated.

That'd be about as easy as taking candy from a baby. I thought about stopping by my quarters, but figured they'd be two steps ahead of me if I did that. By now, Beckett had sounded the alarm. It wasn't without some irony, that the claxons began to sound throughout the city.

"Attention everyone, this is Doctor Weir," Elizabeth's voice boomed over the citywide communications. "As some of you may know, Major Sheppard is suffering from some type of illness, the origin we are uncertain of. He is suffering from hallucinations, and should be considered armed and dangerous. He's escaped from the infirmary, and we need to get him back under Doctor Beckett's care as soon as possible. Please, if anyone knows of his whereabouts, contact myself, Sergeant Bates or Doctor Beckett."

Damn, now he had to get out of sight immediately. He took off at a dead run, heading down the corridor away from the milling people who were whispering, and pointing. He rounded the corner, and ran full force into McKay, and we went tumbling to the ground in a heap of body parts.

"Sheppard, what the ?"

I pushed myself off of McKay, and was getting to my feet. "Sorry, McKay, no time to talk." I patted him on his shoulder, but before I could take off, he grabbed my legs, and tackled me down to the floor.

"Son of a bitch, let go!" I swore, trying to free my legs from his hold.

"Stop fighting," McKay snapped. "I'm trying to help you!"

I stilled. "How?"

"I can hide you, get you food and water."

I narrowed my eyes, searching Rodney's face for any sign of subterfuge. "Why?"

"Because I've uncovered a conspiracy. They're out to take over, Major, and they're behind your episodes."

I continued to stare for a minute, debating whether to believe him or not. "You've got proof?"

McKay shook his head, "Not yet."

I'm not one for waffling. You make your mind up, and you do it. Debating a decision too long can lead to disaster. I had to either trust McKay, or not, and if I was wrong, I might end up on the wrong end of a scalpel. I looked at those intense blue eyes, which were staring back, and neither of us blinked, or broke eye contact. "Okay," I said, and I hoped it was the right choice.

We got to our feet, and he grabbed my arm, and I almost pulled back and ran, but soon he was propelling me forward. "I know of a lab we explored before. It's off of any main areas, and since it's already been explored, it's safe."

I was letting myself be led through the maze of the city, and McKay had taken us on a path that was deserted, as empty as my hopes of getting out of this were becoming. I didn't know what was going on. Who could I trust? Was McKay only leading me to a worse end? I let my eyes close, just for a second, and continued to follow, like the trusting soldier, and hoped Rodney was the one I could trust to make sense of this insanity that I had tumbled into. If I couldn't believe him, whom could I believe? I couldn't even trust myself.

AN: This is an edited version of chapter 4, had to fix a few of my, ahem liberal uses of a certain four-letter word. Also, rudhweth, very good point! I spent the day discussing this on an email list trying to figure out a possible fix, or a change I could make, but didn't wind up with anything that really sounded good for what I was trying to do, so, this might end up contradicted down the road because we've got limited background info. I'm going to assume, for the mercy of the story, that he attended medical school in the US, and therefore, got to play American Football (not European Football-which is soccer to us yanks). I did consider switching to Rugby, but then there's the problem that most of us would be unfamiliar with the positions, so, kind of a rock and a hard place. Just wanted to let you know that you made a very good point, and it's something I'll have to try to keep in mind for other stories definitely! This international thing can be a real PIT...well, you know. :)

Addendum: rudwheth, I just wanted to let you know, I'm not bothered at all, I tried to make sure you knew that above. I appreciate all comments from readers, and your comment was excellent, and I felt it brought up a very good discrepancy. But, due to the things I mentioned, I decided to let it go as is, but, your question was great, and absolutely right, so please don't think I got upset or bothered, or anything by it. I did some background work to see if it was an easy fix, and couldn't come up with an easy fix, so I left it, however, that doesn't mean you weren't right, okay? I hope this helps you feel better! I value input and I'd hate for anyone to feel otherwise. All constructive input/critiques, is much appreciated. The same goes for debenham's comments. I think she had a valid complaint, and I explained my view on the issue. Okay, slinking back to work on the story, chapter 5 is completed, and will be arriving soon!