"Major Sheppard!" shouted Teyla, kneeling beside his prone figure. She checked the basics like Doctor Beckett had taught her. Breathing, pulse, it was all there. She dug the radio out of her bag, and slipped it over her ear, tapping it with speed. "I need a medical team to the gymnasium, Major Sheppard is unconscious!"
She could see dark circles under his eyes, and a gaunt, tired look to his face, even relaxed in unconsciousness as it was now. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well. She shouldn't have let him work out today, but she had thought that maybe it would give him a chance to ease whatever was eating at him. She had been wrong, and now the major was paying for it.
It didn't take long for the medical team, accompanied by Beckett, to arrive. "What happened?" asked Carson, sliding into his efficient Doctor mode, and beginning to check Sheppard's vitals.
"We had a training session, but he was struggling, he seemed tired. I suggested we stop for the day, and when he left, he collapsed." Teyla reeled off a short summary of the events without going into detail.
Carson nodded, and waved for the techs to get John on a gurney. He stood up, and placed a soft hand on Teyla's arm, "He's going to be fine, Teyla. He's just run down," he assured the Athosian.
Teyla nodded mutely, and watched as they hurried him to the infirmary. She wished she could believe it, but in her heart, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong with the major.
oOo
John was dreaming, of voices, and whispers in his mind, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He tried to call out, but found he couldn't speak. He felt as though he were tangled in a mass of dead vines, being pulled into a deep morass, and never again to see the light of day.
"Major?"
That voice…he knew that voice. He latched on like a drowning man, and reached out, his hand automatically finding his anchor. He opened his eyes, and looked upon Elizabeth Weir, holding him steady.
She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, tenderly. "You passed out, after a session with Teyla, Major," she said. "Gave her quite a scare."
John looked down at her hand in his, surprised at her familiarity. "Elizabeth?" he whispered.
"Yes, John?" she asked earnestly.
He rolled his head slightly to the side, and murmured, "This isn't real." And he let his eyes close –
oOo
"Major, wake up, son…it's time."
John groaned, Beckett. He obeyed, and looked around, and didn't see Weir nearby. "How long?" grunted Sheppard.
Beckett frowned. "A few hours. You gave Teyla quite a scare."
He remembered waking and seeing Elizabeth, but he knew it wasn't a real memory. "Elizabeth…here?" he asked, wanting to find out for certain.
Carson shook his head slowly. "No…do you need her?"
"No!" he said more forcefully then he intended. "Was she here, at all?"
Now Beckett was staring at him with concern. "Son, you just woke up, no one's been here except me."
Sheppard wished he'd been subtler. Now Carson was acting like he was in an even more fragile state than he felt. He had just wanted to make sure…his mind was foggy. "A dream," he uttered.
That seemed to reassure Beckett, and he pulled up his rolling stool. "Major, we need to talk."
John fought back a thrill of apprehension. He wanted out of here, now, and he didn't want to talk. Some of his anxiety must have translated into his body language because Carson frowned even deeper, the lines of his mouth becoming prominent.
"Um…later, I'm kind of tired," said Sheppard, stalling for time.
"No," Carson folded his arms across his chest. "How long do you think you can keep this up?"
"Keep what up?" he replied, obstinately. He wasn't stupid; he knew what Beckett was getting at. The problem was, he didn't think there was a problem, and Carson did. Headaches, tiredness…nothing he hadn't dealt with before. At the worried look that Beckett was sending his way, it wasn't going to be easy getting out of here.
"You're running yourself to the ground, and don't sit there and tell me you aren't having symptoms," reproached Beckett. "I've seen the medicine logs. You've signed out Tylenol at least four times in the past week, all during my off-shifts, I might add."
"You're reaching for straws, Doc," said Sheppard with more gruffness than he intended. "It's just headaches."
Carson regarded John with a measured stare. "Okay, then, you won't mind if I run some tests…just to make sure."
Sheppard did mind, but on the other hand - "You'll let me go, if they come back fine?" And there wasn't any doubt in his mind, at least, that the tests would be normal.
Beckett nodded, and stood, tucking Sheppard's chart under his arm. "Aye, but, regardless of the outcome, I'm prescribing more rest starting now. You can take a brief nap while we prepare the tests."
Over all, Sheppard figured he'd come out of this better than he had hoped. He agreed, and tried to close his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. He thought of all the things in the city that needed his attention, rooms that hadn't been explored. What if they found another body in stasis? What if the person had died because they took too long to find them, like Doctor Weir's alternate self had almost done.
And there was this constant itch in his mind, like a thought chasing after you to realize that you were forgetting something, but you couldn't remember what. It was keeping him unbalanced, always seeking something that he couldn't figure out. Was there something he kept forgetting? Why did it constantly feel like he was missing…something.
"When I said rest, I meant sleep," Beckett spoke beside him.
John's eyes flew open. He hadn't heard Carson approaching his bed. He lifted his wrist; it'd been over an hour. "I did," argued Sheppard. If he'd lost an hour to his thoughts, with his eyes closed, close enough to sleep for his definition.
Beckett snorted. "Major, lying in bed with your eyes closed, but thinking of everything you should be doing, is not sleeping. Sleeping is eyes closed, and dreaming up the pretty lass you met last week."
Sheppard was about to argue, but realized it was a lost cause, and besides, he hadn't met a pretty girl last week. He figured it'd be kind of petty to point that out. "Tests, Doc?" he reminded, at least getting it over with would get him a 'get out of infirmary' free card.
"About that," frowned Beckett. "Our equipment's malfunctioning, I'm going to have to keep you here over night…" At seeing Sheppard's shocked expression, he couldn't stop the chuckle. "Just kidding, we'll get started then, shall we?"
"Yes, we shall," Sheppard said grumpily. And if he thought he was grouchy, the size of the needle the nurse was approaching him made his day even worse.
oOo
"Major, there you are!" McKay jogged up to John's side, as he was heading towards the mess hall.
Sheppard raised an eyebrow, "I'm going somewhere, McKay." John tried to head off Rodney's attempt at dragging him to work on some other project, remembering their last parting. As rude as Sheppard had been before, he was surprised McKay had been looking for him. He'd thought the guy would've been hiding in his lab, nursing his bruised ego. But then, he should've realized, this was McKay, after all. You can't bruise his ego.
"Right, you are," deadpanned McKay, without a pause. "Back to my lab."
Sheppard rounded on McKay. "I'm going to eat," he inclined his head irritably. "Doctor's orders." The sarcasm wasn't lost on either of them.
"What's with you? All of a sudden you're walking around like you've got a stick up your…"
Sheppard raised a finger. "Don't say it."
"Ass," finished McKay with a gleam of satisfaction.
John pasted on a sick smile. "That'll get you zero gene usage points." And he turned, heading back on his initial course. He knew he was being an uncooperative jerk, but McKay was grating on his last nerve, along with everyone else, and he didn't even know why, so how could he fix it, short of go into avoidance mode?
Fortunately, or what would turn out to be unfortunately, Beckett came striding up, interrupting the two from getting into it further. "Major, I need to see you."
It was about this time, that Sheppard had had enough. "No," he answered succinctly, and kept walking, leaving behind a stunned Beckett and McKay in his wake.
He went into the mess hall, and collected whatever the dinner was supposed to be, and sat down, pointedly ignoring the fact that McKay and Beckett had tailed him in, gathered their own food, and sat down beside him. He made eye contact, poking a straw in his drink box, and took a long, slow sip, while making it clear that he wanted to be left alone.
Rodney decided to go with the spirit of the situation, and leaned towards Carson. "He can be a tad on the childish side, can't he?"
Carson grinned. "Aye, and you should see him when nurse…"
"Enough!" interrupted Sheppard. He sat his drink down with false care. "Do you two have a point, or is it 'torture Major Sheppard' day, and someone forgot to send me the memo?"
Beckett shrugged. "I have a point, but I can't speak for Rodney…do ye have a point, Rodney?"
McKay had one of his best 'smug am I' grins plastered on his face. "I have a point, I always have a point. What about you, Carson, is it a good point, or only a not-so-good point?"
Sheppard was practically shaking with the effort required to maintain a civilized manner. "Then make it, and leave me the hell alone."
McKay dropped the smugness. "I need you to help me with this console I found. It's important, and it won't work for me. There…is that clear enough for you, or should I send you a memo?"
Sheppard glared at McKay, but waited for Beckett to speak up, before deciding how rude his reply would be. Carson squirmed a bit now that the focus was on him. "Actually, Major, this is more of a private conversation, if you don't mind."
McKay spluttered his juice. "Private? Hello, it's me, the one who saved his ass every time he turned around. I think I've got a right to hear anything he has to hear."
Sheppard was feeling a bit like one of those moles in the whac-a-mole game, because between McKay and Beckett, he kept getting knocked around. "Anything you've got to say, can be said in front of McKay."
Rodney had a gleam of satisfaction, "Thank you, Major."
"Don't be flattered, it's a small world, I'm saving you the hassle of waiting, oh, the ten minutes till the rumor mill disseminates the information."
Beckett still appeared uncomfortable, but began to speak, only to be interrupted by Doctor Weir's arrival. She smiled warmly at the trio. "John, it's good to see you eating," she enthused.
Sheppard counted to ten. "And it's good to see you…not eating," he replied. All he needed now was for Teyla and Ford to show up and carry on about his choice of beef.
Weir failed to notice the panicked looks that Beckett was sending her, so she plowed on, "The sooner you take care of yourself, the sooner you can be cleared for missions again." She looked like she'd delivered a boon to a guy on death row; but instead, she'd flipped the switch on the electric chair.
The room got quiet, and Sheppard froze. Weir looked at Beckett, who was sliding a hand back and forth across his neck, sign language for, big mistake. "Again?" asked Sheppard, and his voice was deathly calm.
Weir winced. "I'm sorry. I thought Carson had talked to you already," she was limping through this. "John, your test results came back showing signs of malnutrition, and sleep deprivation. I think you can agree that's not safe." Weir had foundered, but landed on her sea legs, because the bottom line was, John was in trouble, and everyone but him seemed to realize it.
Sheppard's emotions over the revelation had been quickly shuttered in, and he pushed his tray away, needing space. "I see. If you don't mind, then, I suppose I'll start working on getting back in shape." Though he'd tried to hide his anger, his words were thinly laced with the resentment and betrayal he felt.
It didn't help that Rodney was looking at him in shock, clearly being as surprised by the events as John. Beckett stood abruptly, knocking his tray forward, spilling the contents. "Major, if ye'd give me a moment, I can help…"
But John wasn't giving anyone ground right now, least of all Beckett, whom he blamed for the situation. "I think you've helped enough, Doctor," he said coldly, and left the room without a backward glance.