A/N: Is anyone else ready to drive a spike through the brain of the guy who invented those ring tones? I swear, if I log on one more time todiscover that frikkin' frog yammering on at me... mutters death threats under her breath Anyway... sorry for the longer wait between updates. This was a hard chapter to write, and if I get some of the medical descriptions wrong then I can only apologise. Here goes...

Edited to correct tense errors. Thanks 'Grammar!'

The Puppet Master

Chapter Twenty Three - Definitely McKay

Driven by his growling stomach, Sheppard left McKay sleeping and headed back to the mess hall with Teyla and Ford in tow. They paused long enough for some sandwiches and coffee, and were sitting in quiet, contemplative silence when a simple call from Weir had declared: "It's time."

They arrived in the infirmary to find the party had started without them. The silhouette of Zelenka could be seen to the left of the room, partially hidden by a thin screen. His shadow seemed busy with a large, intricately shaped object sitting on a trolley. A nurse stood at the left side of the room, over a tray of instruments. Celia Vasquez, a thirty-something Chilean nurse with olive skin, deep brown eyes, and the mistaken belief that her weight required her to cover up in bulky cardigans and neck scarves. She seemed oblivious to the drooling parade rest that any military man would come to upon her approach in the mess hall. Sheppard offered her a smile and a wave which she returned, brightly.

Beckett was emerging, ruffled and bleary eyed, from a cot stowed in the corner of the room. The Scotsman shifted his head from side to side and winced, swiping at his mouth and wiping his hand on his jacket. "I thought I told you to wake me, Celia."

She made a slight, surprised noise, and said simply: "Difference of opinion, Doctor."

Sheppard eyed Carson cautiously, watching the man attempting to rearrange his uniform. "Nice bed head."

Carson scowled at him, one hand reaching up to pat his head self-consciously. "I hardly think you're one to talk, Major."

"Do not insult the hair," Zelenka advised, suddenly appearing from around the screen. "I hear it is violent animal, prone to biting."

Sheppard gave a pointed nod to the Czech's own wispy, receding hairline. "Green is not a good look on you, doc'."

Zelenka sniffed at him and muttered something unintelligible under his breath, then promptly disappeared back behind the curtain.

"How long has he been there?" Carson asked, blinking heavy eyes.

"About twenty minutes," Celia replied, from her bench. "I told him not to disturb you."

"How's McKay?" Sheppard asked, moving to grab the curtain around his friend's bed.

"Awake," Celia responded, stepping from around her desk to reach Carson's side. She twitched the curtain from Sheppard's grasp and pulled it aside, smoothly. "And refusing to speak to us."

Rodney was once again in restraints, his wrists and ankles held by padded cuffs. He was still wearing the red hospital scrubs, and lay on the mattress with no covering sheet. His jaw was clenched shut, his face turned defiantly up towards the ceiling, but his eyes darted about following the movements of Celia and Beckett. They flicked to the array of monitors and machinery plugged in to the left and behind of him, then back.

Carson moved to stand at his side, looking over him. "How are we feeling?"

McKay's mouth twitched, but stayed closed.

"We're not about to do anything to harm you," he continued, as though McKay had responded, "we just need to run a couple of tests, Rodney."

The silence persisted. Sheppard heard Carson give a soft sigh, turning away from the bed to look over the equipment.

"Gentlemen?"

Elizabeth was coming through the doorway, looking no more rested than when Sheppard had last seen her. Kate followed a few footsteps behind, her confident walk failing to hide a nervous expression. Weir stopped beside Celia with a deliberate pause, waiting for Sheppard and Beckett to join her. Ford and Teyla remained by the bed, and Sheppard heard several soft words of comfort coming from the Athosian – to be ignored by the physicist.

Weir spoke in a low voice. "Are we ready to do this?"

"Aye." Beckett glanced over his shoulder towards Zelenka's silhouette. "I wish Radek had found another way."

"There was never going to be one," Sheppard told him, grimly. "Does Kezan know what's going on?"

Carson shook his head. "I don't think so. Radek's pretending he's repairing one of the diagnostic consoles, and we've made sure that Kezan can't see him from the bed. He's demanded food, once or twice – a patient has to fast for about ten hours before treatment, and I suspect Rodney's low blood sugar levels are starting to make themselves known. I've told him he's here for some tests and to search for appropriate medication. So far he hasn't tried fighting the restraints, so I'm hopeful we can start an IV without too much trouble."

"He's probably afraid if he resists we'll have to sedate him," Kate said, softly.

"Aye, quite probably."

"If he does?" Sheppard asked.

"I'm going to administer a muscle relaxant and a low dose of painkillers. That should be enough."

Elizabeth frowned. "And Rodney will be able to wake up afterwards?"

"Yes, without too much trouble." A look of deep seated worry rose up in Carson's eyes, and he glanced towards the bed. "Normally a higher dose would be used but since we need to ensure Rodney regains consciousness quickly…" He stopped, clasping and unclasping his hands.

"Carson, if you think we shouldn't continue –"

"This isn't my area of expertise," he admitted, reluctantly.

"You're the best of any of us," Kate said, softly.

"I'd rather my first experience wasn't like this." He took a deep breath, and turned towards the bed, slipping back into the mode of professional medic. "Better to begin sooner than later. Celia –"

The nurse nodded at them, moving across to the bed. Teyla had taken up a seat but now stood up, stepping aside to allow the woman access to the bed, and indicating for Ford to do the same. Sheppard joined them, hovering several metres from the bed.

Kezan continued to ignore them.

"We're just going to give you a little something to help you relax," Celia told him, picking up a needle.

Sheppard saw McKay stiffen. "I don't need to relax."

"So you're speaking to us?" Beckett said, moving to stand next to Celia. "Then I can tell you that it's nothing to be worried by."

"You don't need to d-drug me," Kezan told them, clearly nervous, his gaze darting between both nurse and doctor. "I'm fine." His head turned to look at Kate, with a plea: "Tell them I'm f-fine. I did like you asked."

"I know." Kate took a step towards the bed, prompting a bristle from Sheppard he couldn't withhold. "And I appreciate that, Rodney. But Dr Beckett really is just trying to help you. We can't find a treatment for you unless we've found the cause of your problem."

He twitched, his hands jerking against the restraints. "You can't help me."

Teyla bowed her head. "This city is full of amazing creations, Dr McKay. I am sure there is something here which can cure your illness."

The blue eyes widened, looking at the Athosian appraisingly. "You think?" Then he shook his head. "N-no. Lies, all of them. You're all in on it. You won't listen to me!"

Carson nodded at Celia, his hands firmly grabbing McKay's arm below the shoulder. Kezan struggled futilely, his efforts unable to prevent able fingers from deftly inserting the needle and fitting an IV line. After several moments his body slumped, fingers unlocking from their tight grip on the bed rails, though his eyes continued to track Carson's movements defiantly.

"Just a simple muscle relaxant," Carson told him, firmly. "Just to help you keep still while we run the tests."

"I don't…" The words were slurred, barely comprehensible. "Don't need any t-tests…"

"Just do like the doc' says," Ford advised. "Take it easy."

Carson looked up from his attendance at the equipment. "Lieutenant, if you and Teyla wouldn't mind waiting outside."

Ford opened his mouth to object, but Teyla was already moving, nodding at the Scotsman. "You require the room."

"Aye, yes, if you wouldn't mind." Carson gestured vaguely at the door, then turned to Sheppard. "Major –"

He shook his head quickly. "I'm stopping." He moved to stand on the opposite side of the bed, resting one hand on the rail defiantly, daring Beckett to move him.

Carson sighed. "I thought as much." He glanced at Ford and Teyla, who were hovering in the doorway. "I'll send someone to tell you what's going on as soon as there's anything to tell."

Ford nodded, reluctantly, but only moved when Teyla took his arm and pulled him outside.

"Right." Beckett turned to Celia. "If you could start prepping the patient."

She nodded, picking up a second needle and inserting it into the IV line. Kezan watched her closely.

"What are you …"

His protest died abruptly, eyes blinking lethargically before falling closed.

"Just a low dose of anaesthetic," Carson told them, at Sheppard's worried look. "It should keep him out of it for a couple of minutes." He turned, placing stickered electrodes above McKay's temples.

"Dr Zelenka, if you're ready," Weir called.

He emerged from behind the curtain pulling a metal trolley, on which sat the parts of the alien storage device. Neatly laid next to them were an array of small tools, screwdrivers and pliers. Radek looked up from them to glance anxiously at the semiconscious McKay.

"He is alright?"

"He will be," Sheppard replied, tightly. His grip on the cold bed rail was staring to make his hand ache. "Let's get this done."

Beckett nodded, turning to the equipment behind him. Various monitors displayed wavering green lines, some Sheppard could identify, others alien to him. He tried not to pay close attention to the particular box Beckett was now controlling, instead turning to the figure in the bed.

Despite Carson's assurances, Sheppard had been busy imagining a variety of nightmares and none were as simple or basic as the one he saw now.

Carson, softly: "On my mark…."

A fine tremor ran through McKay's body, his fingers and toes twitching spasmodically, his eyelids fluttering. On the monitors the green lines danced, bouncing up and down energetically for thirty seconds or so, before slowly dropping back into a regular pattern. He uttered a very soft mumble, then lay still.

There was a long, pregnant pause, which Sheppard broke.

"Is that it?"

Beckett was busy with a penlight, prying McKay's eyes apart with deft fingers and waiting for a response. Absently: "We're not out to get fireworks, Major." He lifted his head to look at the monitors, addressing Celia. "Little change. EEG trace has levelled." Then he glanced at Weir. "We'll have to increase the current a fraction."

She nodded, her expression tightly controlled. "Do whatever you deem necessary, Carson."

He pressed his mouth into a grim line, then bent over the equipment again. Sheppard moved a little closer to the bed, watching McKay lie still.

"On my mark…"

The difference was dramatic. As before, McKay's fingers and toes twitched, but Sheppard could also see the man's muscles pulsing faintly beneath his skin, and he watched them, mesmerised. McKay's eyelids trembled, then suddenly shot open, the scientist drawing in a sudden, strangled gasp, arching his back slightly, his head pressing into the pillow as he issued an abrupt cry of pain before falling back into the mattress. His eyes darted about the room wildly as he gasped, his hands pulling back sharply against the restraints.

"Woah!" Sheppard was over the bed in a second, using both hands to push the scientist's shoulders firmly back against the mattress. "McKay! Calm down!"

"What?" His voice was a wheeze, strangled and broken. "No – I – stop, please, god, I'm not, I'm – don't, please, don't –"

"Hey, it's okay!" Sheppard felt the man buck against his touch. "Carson –"

McKay's eyes turned to fix on his, terror written clearly on his features. "John –"

Sheppard flinched, trying not to remember the cell, and Kezan's earlier deception. "It's okay," he repeated, willing his friend to believe it, and struggling to grasp it himself.

"No, no, it isn't. I'm trapped in here," McKay garbled, his words tumbling over each other in their rush to be heard. "An alien, on the planet – he's in my head – Kezan – I'm not, god, I'm not - don't do this –"

"We know about Kezan," Sheppard interrupted, quickly. "He's an alien from M4P-278. He was trapped in that little silver ball, right?"

McKay caught his gaze, staring up at him with fierce desperation. "You know," he repeated, as though daring Sheppard to now deny it.

"We know, and we're trying to get him out," Elizabeth broke in, stepping up behind Sheppard. "Just relax, Rodney. Let us help."

McKay broke off his intent gaze at Sheppard to look at Elizabeth for several seconds. After several more gasps he took a deep breath, then stilled, dropping back against the mattress. Turned his head to offer Sheppard a weak grin. "About time."

"Yeah, well," he gave a relieved shrug, lifting his hands from McKay's shoulders, "sorry it took us so long."

"You're sorry," McKay retorted, the tension visually evaporating from his body.

"How are you feeling?" Carson asked, penlight once again in his hand. "Headache, nausea…"

He was interrupted. "I'm fine."

A frown creased the Scotsman's forehead. "Rodney –"

McKay winced, admitting reluctantly: "It wasn't pleasant. But I feel fine now." He glared at the deadly penlight. "You can keep that out of my face though."

Sheppard grinned, and allowed himself to relax a little. "Definitely McKay."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Rodney," Elizabeth broke in, "Carson isn't sure how long the effects of this treatment will last, so we need to concentrate on Kezan."

"Right." McKay rolled his shoulders awkwardly, shifting his head to look at the doctor. "What treatment?"

Beckett winced, turning his attention to his task of lifting the bed. "Now, Rodney, don't overreact –"

"What treatment?" came back the irritable repeat.

"I've administered a small electrical current through your –"

"You've what!" McKay's eyes widened, his breath quickening. "Oh god, I've turned into Jack Nicholson."

"Not quite," Sheppard said, dryly.

"You try it!"

"Rodney," Beckett said, firmly, settling the scientist into an upright position, "if you don't at least try and be sensible I will have to sedate you."

"Or tape his mouth shut," Zelenka suggested, from behind his trolley.

"Right." McKay nodded to himself. "Fine."

"Safer than running into a forcefield," Sheppard pointed out, adroitly.

"True." He glanced at Carson again. "Isn't it?"

Beckett couldn't hide the concern from his face. "As the Major said, safer than the alternative."

"Oh god." McKay swallowed, his hands clenching and unclenching tightly. "Then I guess we'd better hurry up, huh?"

"We know all about Kezan," Elizabeth began, then hesitated. "You told us last time, remember, Rodney?"

He nodded, irritably. "Right. Right, sorry. I just –" he lifted his gaze, "you believe me now."

She nodded. "Dr Zelenka was able to retrieve some information from the computer on M4P-278 that confirmed his existence."

He turned to look at her, his face unusually open, a mix of fear and relief. "So you do know I'm not insane?"

"No more than normal," Sheppard jibed, gently.

"Hah hah."

"What do you know already?" Weir pressed.

"He's nuts." McKay grimaced. "Big surprise."

"How much are you aware of when Kezan is in control?" Kate asked, taking a step into McKay's line of sight.

He glanced at her, and Sheppard saw something dark flit across the scientist's eyes. "Most things," he responded, tightly. "He's tried shutting me out but I suspect it takes too much of his attention. At first he could barely keep control, but now, I –" He broke off, looking towards Weir. "Elizabeth, I'm sorry –"

"I know," she said gently, "you said last time. You don't have to apologize, Rodney."

He didn't seem convinced, but took a breath anyway and continued. "The only way I was able to jump into the forcefield was because I took him by surprise, and he's been more careful since. I won't get another chance."

"Not that we want to see a repeat performance," Carson said, pointedly.

"Trust me, Carson, I don't want to either." He winced, dramatically. "God knows what damage I did. Though I think you should give me some credit for working with what I had – it's not like there was an alternative." And he looked pointedly at Kate for a second, then turned his head.

She had the grace to flinch. "I'm sorry we came to the wrong conclusion, Rodney."

Sheppard gave him some credit for ignoring her.

"Do you know how Kezan is able to do this?" Zelenka broke in, hopefully.

McKay frowned thoughtfully. "Something to do with electrical charges. I think the shock I got from the ball –" He looked up and across at Zelenka, sudden desperation gripping his features. "Oh, crap, the artefact –"

"Is in pieces," Zelenka said, sombrely.

"I remember. I saw Kezan take it apart." He shook his head. "I told him to stop."

"Do you know how to put it back together?" Sheppard asked.

McKay rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Too difficult for you, Zelenka?"

Radek shrugged carelessly. "What can I say, Rodney, your genius continues to astound me."

"Ah. Sarcasm for the sick man. Nice bedside manner. You're simply bitter because you can't fix something."

"Can you?" Weir pressed.

"Of course." He stopped, his bravado faltering. "Probably. I remember seeing the pieces as Kezan pulled it apart but –" Cutting off again, McKay closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "It's hard. I can feel him, messing about in the back of my head. He wants to get back." He opened his eyes and looked up at Carson. "How long do I have?"

Beckett shrugged helplessly. "I wish I could tell you, Rodney, but to be honest with you I'm taking this time as a test run. It could only be a few minutes at a time."

"What if you upped the dose?" he suggested.

"I daren't. If I exceed the threshold it will produce convulsions, and I don't want to risk…" Carson paused, taking a breath. "It's too risky. There could be permanent damage."

Sheppard saw McKay flinch, a moment of fear revealed before it was quickly covered up with a pointed: "Oh, and there isn't with this?"

Beckett shook his head. "Of course I can't deny that this carries some risk, but at this level the likelihood is that any side-effects will be temporary. That likelihood decreases the greater the current. With a high-dose, aside from potential brain damage, the pain it would cause you -"

"I can take it," snapped McKay, the man who complained loudly at a stubbed toe.

Sheppard allowed himself a small, inward swell of pride. "Doc?"

"No." Carson's face had resumed its earlier, haggard expression, his voice hard. "I don't like doing it at this level. I'm already treating your system with succinylcholine, and if this were normal circumstances I'd administer a general anaesthetic as well. Without one…" He paused, shaking his head firmly. "No. I won't do it."

McKay was already opening his mouth to object, so Sheppard stepped in, placing his hand firmly on McKay's arm.

"Let's just concentrate on right now, okay?"

The scientist's mouth twitched, and he stared at the covers for a moment. "Right." He looked up at John. "So that's the plan?"

"Yup." He rocked gently on his heels. "You and Zelenka fix the device, we send Kezan back into it, and things get back to normal."

McKay was already shaking his head. "He won't go back."

"We'll make him."

"How?" The physicist's hands twitched, and Sheppard could see fine lines of pain drawn around his eyes and mouth. "You don't get it, Major. He won't go back into that box. He's spent hundreds of years there and he'll do anything not to live through that again."

"We won't leave him like this," Elizabeth said, firmly. "If we can trap him in the device, we can then decide on what to do with him – but our first priority is to help you, Rodney."

"Resident genius," Sheppard reminded him.

"Oh, well, sure." McKay glanced at Elizabeth, then back at Sheppard. "Of course. Simple."

"It is," he responded, in a drawl. "Come on, McKay. We're working to a deadline, remember?"

"I remember," his friend snapped back. "Believe me."

"So first we fix the box," he prompted, choosing to carefully ignore the hand dug deep into the mattress, "and then we work out what to do next."

"Right." The scientist looked unconvinced. "Sure. Not like it's your head, Major." He looked across at Zelenka. "I hope you've had the sense to bring everything here?"

"Of course," Zelenka said smoothly, pushing the trolley and its contents across to the bed. "You will help me, yes?"

"Hand holding," McKay muttered, loud enough for Zelenka to clearly hear every word. "I always knew you needed it."

"You took it apart," Zelenka retorted, mildly. "It is only fair you put it back together."

"Hmpf." He scowled, trying to sit up straighter in the bed and failing when the restraints on his wrist pulled him back.

"Take it easy," Sheppard warned, mildly.

"I could do that better if I wasn't chained to the bed." There was a tremor to his voice, a hitch to his breath.

Elizabeth took a step towards the bed. "I'm sorry, Rodney."

"I know." He sighed, then lifted his chin determinedly. "We'd best start with its central core. Since I can't point, I'll have to describe everything, so pay attention, Zelenka."

Radek gave a sloppy salute. "I am at your beck and call."

McKay rolled his eyes, and Sheppard grinned. "If only you always said that."