Chapter 4

Sheppard emerged from behind the curtain wearing uniform pants and a black T-shirt. He had insisted that he couldn't possibly go eat in his pajamas (scrubs), so Beckett had sent out for some clothes. He walked up to Teyla and smiled. "Can we go eat now? I'm hungry."

Teyla looked over at Beckett. "May we go now?"

"Aye, just don't let him out of yer sight. Come back here when yer done and I'll bed him down for the night." He looked at Sheppard and smiled. "And if Teyla tells me you were good, maybe you can go for a walk or somethin' tomorrow."

Sheppard nodded as he quietly looked down at the floor. Beckett thought he seemed troubled. "Is somethin' botherin' you lad? If you tell me, maybe I can help."

Sheppard hesitated, continuing to stare at the floor for a moment. He began nervously twisting his right foot, arching his heel up off the floor and pivoting on the ball of his foot. "I just wanted . . . I just thought . . . " Sheppard looked up at Beckett with sad eyes. "I'm sorry . . . for being so much . . . trouble. I was just . . . I was scared." He quickly looked back at the floor, embarrassed.

Beckett swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what to say. After a minute, he gently took Sheppard by the wrists and turned his arms so that his forearms were up. Puncture marks and bruises were scattered down both arms. He thought of all the times they had roughly held the major down and jabbed him with needles that day. On several occasions, Sheppard had been stuck multiple times because, as his staff quickly discovered, it's hard to find and maintain a vein in a moving target. The whole staff originated from military or research institution backgrounds, so no one was experienced in dealing with a child. And it was hard to think of Sheppard as a child when he was taller that anyone on the medical staff. When you really got down to it, they had treated him like an adult that was acting like a baby. They had been rough and impatient most of the day. It wasn't until he had seen the major curled up on the bed with his head in Teyla's lap that he truly realized they were dealing with a child. And they hadn't done a very good job.

"Look, I think you did very well. I think maybe we should be apologizin' to you. I didn't mean to be so rough with ya, lad. I promise, if at any point we have to use any more needles, we'll be a lot more patient and a lot more gentle."

Sheppard gently pulled his arms back and wrapped them around his waist, still looking at the floor. "Okay," he said softly. They stood there in an awkward silence for what seemed like a long time before Sheppard finally raised his eyes to look at Beckett. "I know something's wrong with me. I'm . . . different now. Everyone looks at me funny." His eyes bore into Beckett's as he asked, "Can you fix me?"

Beckett felt like someone had kicked him in the gut, taking his breath away. He could barely breathe and there was definitely the feel of the proverbial 'lump in the throat'. He hadn't expected this at all. He wasn't even aware that Sheppard thought there was something wrong with him. I am so losing my touch, he thought to himself. How could he explain this to a six year old when he didn't have a clue what was going on himself? Should he just lie and assure Sheppard that everything would be okay? No. The eyes were the same as they had always been. They were Sheppard's eyes and they were begging him to tell the truth, no matter what it was. Even as a child, the major needed to know what he was up against.

"Major - "

"Don't call me that," he snapped. He hesitated, and then, "I'm not really a major right now. It's just John."

"Okay . . . John. I don't really know just yet. We have a lot of good people working on the problem and I have faith that they will figure this thin' out. But I cannot guarantee that we will be able to reverse what has happened to you." He paused a second before continuing. "You do know that, if we can't . . . fix the problem and return you to the way you were . . . we will take care of you. We won't let anythin' happen to you. And that is something Ican promise." Beckett smiled at the major and was relieved when the major smiled back.

"Okay," he said. "Thank you." And Beckett knew he meant it.

Somewhere between the infirmary and the mess hall, Sheppard slipped his hand in Teyla's. He did it instinctively for security and she was pretty sure that he wasn't consciously aware of what he'd done. When they arrived at the mess hall, however, she became uncomfortable with the arrangement. Although it was late and there weren't many people there, the ones that were had begun to stare at them. She wasn't sure how much the general population knew about Major Sheppard's condition, so it was hard to figure out how they were interpreting the hand holding. She finally decided to ignore the stares and hope the major didn't notice.

They collected their food trays without incident and sat down at an empty table. Sheppard attacked the food like he hadn't eaten in days. Teyla watched him, eating at a somewhat slower pace. She had decided to actually chew her food before trying to swallow it.

"Maj . . . John," Wow, that feels weird. "I wanted to ask you something . . . if you don't mind answering a question."

"I don't care," he mumbled, his mouth full of food.

"I was just wondering, how much do you remember about . . . before?"

John stopped chewing for a second, then slowly resumed, looking deep in thought. He looked at her as he finished swallowing. "I remember who everyone is. I kind of remember who I like and who I don't like. I know we are in Atlantis and we came from earth." He cocked his head slightly to one side, as if trying to remember something. "There are little things I kind of remember . . . but they are like a dream . . . and I don't really understand them. I'm not sure if they're or not."

"Like what?"

"Like . . . being scared of a really big bug that was biting me . . . and a big storm . . . and flying. Just stuff." He shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating.

A large, balding man in a sweaty white T-shirt came out of the back room, looked around, and then walked over to their table, smiling as if he had found just what he was looking for. As it turned out, he found just who he was looking for. "Major Sheppard, maybe you can help me. The door to the food supply closet won't open. I thought since you have the Ancient gene, maybe you could coax it open. Follow me!" Without waiting on a reply, he turned and hurriedly walked toward the back of the mess hall. Before Teyla could react, Sheppard was hot on his heels. Teyla jumped up and and ran to catch up.

She followed the pair to the far back corner of the back room in the mess hall area. "Larry, I don't know if this is such as good idea right now . . . " she began, trying to figure out how she could explain the current situation. Before she could continue however, Sheppard had moved over to the panel controlling the door.

Larry touched the panel, but nothing happened. "See, it's stuck."

Sheppard held his hand about one inch over the panel and closed his eyes. The light in the panel flickered out. He then knelt down in front of the panel and pulled off the cover. "Wow! I didn't know you could do that. I knew you'd know what to do," Larry said in relief. Sheppard looked at several small crystals embedded in the hollow panel. After a moment, he took one out and looked at it closely. Turning it over in his fingers, he found a small splinter of material sticking up slightly on one side. He rubbed it until he was satisfied it was smooth, polished it briefly with the bottom of his shirt, and inserted it carefully back into it's original position. He put the cover back on the panel and stood back up. He then stood with his hand over the panel again and closed his eyes. The light in the panel came back on.

"Now try it," he said to Larry.

Larry obediently tapped on the panel and the door slid open effortlessly. "Gee, thanks Major Sheppard. I knew I could count on you."

Sheppard turned to Teyla. "Did you see? I fixed the door. That was cool!" With that, he turned and headed back to the table. It was then that Teyla realized she had stood back and watched the major play with Ancient technology, the very act that had landed him in the condition he was in. She shuddered, thankful that this had turned out well. She had been so amazed, it hadn't even occurred to her that she should probably stop him. She turned and rushed after him.

Teyla caught up with Sheppard at the table. "John, how did you do that? How did you know how to fix the door?"

He looked confused, as if he wasn't sure what she was asking. "I just knew."

Teyla and Sheppard arrived back at the infirmary to find Beckett and Weir talking. Sheppard's face brightened when he saw Dr. Weir. "Dr. Weir!" he shouted as he ran over and hugged her, almost knocking the two of them down. Beckett was standing next to her, however, and was able to throw his hand out behind her and steady them. He had to do some serious lip-biting to keep from laughing when he saw the shock on Elizabeth's face. When she was sure they weren't going to topple to the ground, she put an arm around Sheppard and hugged him back.

"Dr. Weir," said Teyla, grinning widely, "I think he's glad to see you." Beckett let out a small snicker. He quit as soon as he saw the look Weir flashed him, however.

Sheppard let go of Dr. Weir and stepped back. "I fixed the door! Tell them Teyla. I fixed the door."

Beckett and Weir looked at Teyla expectantly. "Yes, he did. The door to the food closet in the mess hall would not work. Ma . . . John took the panel apart and fixed it. Now it works fine." Beckett and Weir looked worried and glanced over at Sheppard, who had busied himself raising and lowering the head of his bed.

Teyla, reading their thoughts, replied, "He seems fine. It all happened so fast, I did not react in time to stop him. I'm sorry."

"Well," said Beckett. "He doesn't seem to be any worse for wear. But how did he know what to do?"

"I asked him that. He said he just knew."

Beckett crossed his arms and humphed loudly. "This gets weirder by the bloody minute."

Teyla nodded. "I must go now. I have some things I need to tend to. I can come back tomorrow, if you like, and take John for a walk." Weir arched one eyebrow when she heard Teyla call Sheppard by his first name.

"I'll explain later," he said to Weir. To Teyla, he said, "Aye, lass. I'd appreciate it. I'll be needing a break in there somewhere. It's hard to concentrate on analyzing test results while yer babysittin' a . . . Hey! Put that down. Ya can't be playin' with that stuff." Beckett hurried towards Sheppard, who was trying to connect a heart monitor to some machines in the corner. "Yer gonna bloody well electrocute yerself . . . "

Weir and Teyla laughed out loud as Beckett tried to catch Sheppard while he weaved in and out and under the beds. He may be an adult, but his wirey form was just about as agile as that of a child. "You think he'll ever believe us when we tell him how much trouble he was as a child?" asked Weir. "You know, after we bring our John back."

"Not in a millenium," replied Teyla, appreciating the confidence in Dr. Weir's voice.

"I guess I'll go help. See you tomorrow." Weir nodded at Teyla and turned to go rescue Dr. Beckett, who was really beginning to look like he needed rescuing.

An hour later, they had Sheppard back in scrubs and settling down for bed. Weir had sent Beckett to get some rest, assuring him that she would not leave until the major was sound asleep. Beckett had left strict orders with the night staff to keep both eyes on Sheppard so that he would still have an infirmary to return to in the morning. Somewhere along the way, it occurred to Weir that she was tucking the second in command of Atlantis into bed. She found that slightly unsettling.

"Would you stay with me?" She turned to Sheppard and realized his hand was on hers and trembling slightly.

"I'll stay for a while." She smiled.

"Please don't leave me. I don't like this place. I'm afraid if I go to sleep, they might come stick me again. I want to go home."

She looked at him intently. "Where is home, John?"

Sheppard looked confused. " I . . . I don't know . . . but not in here. This place is scary. I think home is . . . my room . . . here in Atlantis." He paused a moment. seeming to focus on something far away. "I belong in Atlantis. This is my home . . . I'm tired." Ending the conversation, he laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. Weir leaned back in the seat to get comfortable. She had no intention of leaving until she was absolutely sure he was asleep.

The frantic screams woke her suddenly and abruptly. She jumped out of her chair, unsure of where she was at first. Then she saw Sheppard, waving his arms around wildly and screaming in pure fear. She took him by the shoulders and shook him gently. "John, wake up. John, it's Elizabeth . . . you're dreaming and you have to wake up."

Sheppard went from screaming to crying hysterically, still not awake. "No. No. No. Please stop. Please go away and stop. Please, I want out of here!."

"John, it's Elizabeth, You're in Atlantis, You're safe."

His eyes partly open, struggling to make sense of what was happening, he suddenly started rubbing his hands. First he rubbed them together and then he rubbed them frantically on his shirt. "Get it off! Please, get it off! Help me get it off."

"What John, what do want get off your hands?" Elizabeth took his hands in hers, trying to hold them still. She couldn't see anything on them.

"There's so much blood. Please get it off me. Too much blood."

Shocked, Elizabeth shook Sheppard harder. "John you have to wake up. There's no blood. You're safe, I promise."

Although still crying and breathing hard, Sheppard seemed to calm down slightly. He stopped shouting and struggling with Elizabeth. She nodded at the duty nurse who had rushed over to help to let her know they were okay. The nurse watched a minute. "Would you like me to call Dr. Beckett?"

"No, it was just a nightmare. He'll be okay in a minute." The nurse looked skeptical, but slowly returned to her post. By this time, Weir had climbed up in the bed beside Sheppard and had her arm around him, his head on her shoulder. He was shaking and crying softly. "Tell me about it, John."

It was so long before he said anything, that she didn't think he was going to open up. Just when she was giving up, he began to speak, his voice low and trembling with fear. "There were fires . . . and lots of smoke . . . small houses . . . or maybe huts are on fire. Lots of people on the ground . . . they're dead . . . so much blood . . . I kept hearing loud noises . . . then there was this girl and she was sitting on the ground by the dead people. I think maybe . . . her mom and dad. She was crying and scared, so I picked her up . . . then we were running . . . " He took in a breath sharply. "Some body is shooting at me. I ran and ran and my arms were tired and then . . . they shot her. I felt her move when the bullet went in her . . . and then the bullet went through her into me." He sat up and pulled his shirt up, touching his skin around the middle of his lower chest/upper abdomen. He began rubbing a small scar. "The bullet was here . . . and there was blood. I fell . . . I couldn't walk any more and it hurt to breathe . . . and there was so much blood . . . her blood . . . and my blood . . . " He put his shirt down and turned his tear stained face to Elizabeth. "I knew we were both going to die. She was afraid, so I held her hand . . . and I laid down with her and hugged her . . . that way, we didn't have to die alone."

He laid his head back on her shoulder and she was aware of his tears soaking into her shirt, making a damp spot. She remembered the incident listed in his file. His helicopter had gone down behind enemy lines. By the time our side caught up to him, he had been shot and was almost dead. She wondered if the little girl had made it or died in his arms. This was a heck of a memory for an adult to live with, much less a child who did not understand it. No wonder Sheppard had trouble sleeping at night.

"It was just a dream. You are here with me in Atlantis and we are both safe." She wiped the tears from his face as he looked up at her, his eyes pleading.

"You won't leave me will you?"

"I'm not going anywhere. Now you go back to sleep and dream something nice this time. Think about doing something fun."

He tried to smile bravely. "I'll try." As he settled down into the bed, she curled up beside him, her arm around his shoulder and his head still on her shoulder. It never occurred to her how odd the situation was. She was just comforting a child . . . a very frightened child.

TBC