Chapter 8: The Episode

It was the weekend on Atlantis. Dr. Weir opted to put on a jogging suit, one of her favorite outfits to wear off hours. She felt more optimistic than she had since John was dragged through the Stargate that fateful day earlier in the week.

Elizabeth looked forward to this morning's visit with John. On her way to the infirmary, she made a stop by the Major's quarters to retrieve the novel he had brought along - War and Peace. She knew he had been crawling through its pages and figured she would read it to him since she was running out of one-sided dialogue.

Dr. Weir greeted Dr. Beckett as she passed his office. "Working the weekend, I see, Doctor," she exclaimed cheerfully as she approached his desk.

The Doctor smiled brightly. "I gave the staff the day off since we have been working so hard on our favorite patient. Which reminds me, now that I have you here, would you mind if I went down to the mess hall for some breakfast and a wee cup of coffee?"

"Of course not."

"Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you, Doctor. I'm fine."

"Alright then," the Doctor resoundingly responded. "I'll be back, shortly."

Elizabeth felt that Carson was in high spirits considering the long hours he had been putting into John's treatment. Things did seem to be looking better she thought to herself as she made her way to the Majors bed cradling his book in one arm.

Elizabeth frowned. She was greeted with an empty bed with the covers rumpled up. Where was the Major? He couldn't have started his physical therapy so soon. Hadn't the Doctor just said that the staff was off for the day?

Good god. Something was definitely wrong she determined as she felt that familiar feeling of the hair on the back of her head standing up. She quickened her pace. Was that whimpering she heard? Dropping the book at the foot of the bed, she went around the far side closest to the wall and braced for the worst.

There, curled up in the corner leaning against the wall in a vertical fetal position, was the Major. His knees were pulled up to his chest in a tight ball and he was rocking back and forth muttering something to himself. Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. She approached John cautiously, all too familiar with the effects of PTSD.

She gave a quick glance towards the Doctor's office and considered calling out to him but decided it would do no good since the mess hall was at least 10 minutes away and he wouldn't have returned by now. Elizabeth instead turned her attention back to the man trembling in fear in front of her.

"John?" Elizabeth called his name out softly not wanting to startle him. "It's, me. Elizabeth. Its okay. You're on Atlantis. You're safe."

"No. Please stop," the Major uttered defeatedly.

She very carefully inched closer to the Major, shushing and cooing soothing words at she went along. When Dr. Weir felt that he wasn't going to strike or lash out at her, she reached out and touched the Major lightly on is left shoulder.

The Major flinched slightly at her touch but eventually accepted it. She moved to sit on the floor next to and slightly behind him. He was facing towards the corner away from her looking so very vulnerable in his hospital gown.

"Shhh. It's okay," Elizabeth took her right hand and placed it on the Major's right cheek gently pulling his head down to her shoulder as she continued to shush him. Taking her left arm, she wrapped it around John's shoulder pulling him a little closer taking care to not aggravate his injuries.

"Elizabeth?" It came out as a barely audible whisper.

"Yes, John. I'm here," she whispered back in his ear daring not to speak louder for fear of disrupting the moment.

"Please, make them stop," he pleaded.

"Don't worry, John. I'm not going to let them hurt you. You're on Atlantis. You're safe now."

With this reassurance, he turned his body towards Elizabeth's arms curling up in her embrace, burying his head deeply into her warm chest. She tightened her hold on him hoping to make him feel more secure.

Elizabeth caressed John's head, smoothing down his, even more-than-usual, unruly hair. She rested her cheek on his head ever so lightly. The Major's shaking subsided considerably as she continued to speak soothingly to him. She noticed that he was panting now only slightly.

The only indication the Major gave that he was crying were his rhythmic, raspy, repetative breaths, and occasional sniffling. Dr. Weir managed to not get caught up in the moment and gave him the space he needed to deal with his raw emotions realizing she would be no help to John if she broke down along with him.

They remained this way for several minutes. Her shushing and cooing reassuringly, wiping away his tears...and the Major sobbing quietly. Time stood still.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Dr. Beckett returned from his breakfast run. "Doctor? Carson?" Elizabeth called out. "I could use some help over here." Her voice surprisingly did not sound panicky but very much in control.

The Doctor hearing Elizabeth's cry for assistance quickly put his breakfast down and went over to see what the commotion was about. He was not ready for what he was about to see as he rounded the empty bed.

"Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus!" he cursed. "What the bloody hell happened?" he exclaimed his voice going up an octave.

"I'm not sure. I just found him on the floor curled up in a ball scared to death."

"He must have had an episode," the Doctor speculated in a more professional manner referring to the PTSD.

"It looks like you did a fine job of calming him. Let's get him back on the bed."

The Doctor helped Elizabeth extricate the Major from her embrace. Having cried himself to exhaustion, it was easy to convince the Major to get back in bed without much protest. Between the two of them, they hoisted the Major to a sitting position. He was practically dead weight since he wasn't able to use his legs.

Once in a sitting position, the Doctor lowered the Major's upper body back on the pillows and Elizabeth pivoted his feet onto the bed. She caught a glimpse of the book she had dropped and picked it up.

War and Peace. The irony of the title did not escape her. This was supposed to be a peaceful morning with her simply reading to the Major. She wasn't, in her wildest dreams, expecting him to have an episode but she was glad that she was there for him and that he accepted her gestures of comfort.

John rolled over on his right side. Placing the book on the bedside table, Elizabeth proceeded to cover him with a sheet and a blanket tucking them around him as the Doctor took the Major's vitals. Dr. Beckett allowed him to stay on his side not wanting to disturb him further.

"I'm going to give you a mild sedative," the Doctor explained to the Major as he prepared the syringe.

Within a few seconds, the Major was drifting off to sleep. Doctor Beckett replaced his two IV's speculating that the Major must have pulled them off during his episode.

Dr. Weir watched in mild shock. "I thought I was getting through to him," she said to the Doctor staring out absent-mindedly.

"You are," he assured gently. "I don't believe that he would have responded to me as positively as he did to you. PTSD is very unpredictable and there is no way of knowing when it will happen or what will trigger it."

Elizabeth sighed. "I guess you're right, Doctor" she agreed as she glanced at the now slumbering Major, concern etched on her face.

"Why don't you come back later this afternoon I think it's imperative that you be there when he wakes up. It would reinforce the notion that he has support and help him to feel more secure Besides, it looks like you could use some rest, yourself," the Doctor kindly suggested noticing the fatigue on Dr. Weir's face.

Dr. Weir wearily shook her head affirmatively. "Let me know when he begins to wake up." With that she left the infirmary not feeling somewhat drained herself.

A/N: Merlin71, Les1, and Allegra.
Thanks for taking the time to review. You guys are not going to let me off the hook, are you? laughs. You do realize this is beginners luck! How do you keep from runing out of good ideas? I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think its my best h/c so far. You have challenged me to continue so I will give it a shot and write some more. I do have some ideas about the physical therapy. I'm so in love with John. sighs I'll try to get Ch. 9 up by this weekend. Hugs...