I love you guys so very much that I'm posting another chapter today. Two in one day! Now that is true love. Oops! It's after midnight, so I guess it's not technically in one day. Close enough. This might ease your pain a little.

Chapter 13

One of the soldiers guarding Kavanagh followed Weir out into the corridor. "Dr. Weir...ma'm...did you say...I mean...Major Sheppard..."

Weir turned to the stammering soldier, who looked for all the world like someonehad just knocked the windout of him. Gosh he looked young. When did the marines start enlisting children? Weir supposed that meant she was old. Today she felt old...really old. "I'm sorry, Lt., I didn't mean to frighten you. I was trying to make a point to Kavanagh."

A glimmer of hope crossed the soldier's face. "So the major's not...?" He was afraid to finish the sentence...afraid he had misunderstood.

"No...he did go into cardiac arrest." Weir shivered at the memory, less than a half an hour old. "Dr. Beckett was finally able to get his heart started again. He's holding on ...for now at least. I'd appreciate it if you didn't let Dr. Kavanagh in on that yet. I want him to sweat a while."

The soldier grinned broadly, relief flooding his face. "Yes, ma'm. Don't worry. We won't let on." He nodded and went back into the holding room. Weir turned and headed back to the infirmary.

McKay sat by Sheppard, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator whooshed in the background. Muscle tremors still shook his body, but the constant squirming had stopped. Beckett said he was unconscious again. which was very thankful at the moment.

"I"m sorry...John..I should have figured this out earlier. You shouldn't be here now." He got up and started pacing back and forth.

"Rodney, you're going to wear a path in my floor," said Beckett as he approached the bed.

"Well, this place could use a little redecorating. It's bound to be an improvement." Rodney stopped pacing and watched Beckett check the monitors and machinery keeping Sheppard alive. "Is he...is he okay?"

"No , Rodney, he's a long way from okay. But he's still with us ...and for now I'll take that."

Weir joined them at Sheppard's bedside. "I didn't miss anything important, did I?" She tried to keep her voice light in an effort to hide the fact that she had been afraid she would return to find John gone.

"Where'd you go anyway?" asked McKay.

"I had my own little visit with Dr. Kavanagh."

Both men widened their eyes in suprise. "You didn't slug him too, did you?" asked Beckett, scanning her hands for damage.

"No...I prefer mental games. He started yammering about going back to earth and I shut him down. I told him that he would not be going back to earth...ever. I told him those of us here in Atlantis would decide and carry out his punshment. Then I told him Major Sheppard had gone into cardiac arrest...and I left."

McKay began to smile slightly. "He thinks the major is dead...and all of his friends and comrades get to decide his punishment. Oh, Elizabeth, I have seriously underestimated you. That is ingenius. I bet he's shaking in his boots."

Weir nodded. "Let's let him stew on that for a while."

It was late the next day when Beckett and Nick noticed the next crisis looming on the horizon. Beckett had been filling Nick in on Sheppard' condition and reminding him to contact him if there was any change during the night. As Beckett rattled off test results and treatment plans, Nick interrupted.

"Carson?"

Beckett stopped talking and glanced over at Nick. "What?" Beckett noticed Nick was watching Sheppard.

Sheppard was just beginning to move around. They stood and watched in silence as the movements became more frantic and exaggerated. "Oh please no," whispered Beckett. Beckett finally moved to the side of Sheppard's bed and leaned over. "Major, can you hear me? Major, if you can hear me, open your eyes."

There was no response, just the continued shuffling of positions. As the movements increased in intensity, Sheppard began trying to roll over on his side. Nick and Beckett had to pin his shoulders to the bed to keep the ventilator tube in the proper position. Beckett called for the nurse.

"Kelly, we're going to need the restraints." She hesitated a second, and then turned to follow his orders.

Nick seemed suprised. "You're putting him in restraints?"

"Aye. He's still needs the ventilator. His diaphragm is spasming with the other muscles now. I'm just praying he's not conscious enough to be aware of what we're doing. The fact that he's giving us no response is a good sign in that direction."

Nick still looked worried. "What if he starts showing signs of waking up? We still can't give him any pain medication without risking his heart stopping - especially after what happened yesterday."

The nurse had arrived with the restraints and the three worked together to get them on his hands so he couldn't reach for the ventilator tube or turn completely on his side. It was quite a wrestling match and all three were breathing hard when they finished.

"I don't know. I just don't know what we'll do."

The agony began rolling over Sheppard a little more slowly this time. His body was exhausted. The white hot pain burned through him like an ever-tightening vise, moving randomly through the muscles of his body. He tried to move with the pain...to ride the crest until it tilted downward, gliding to a level he could tolerate. His body was sluggish with its response and he couldn't seem to coordinate his efforts with the reverberating anguish that had become his being. He fought and struggled, not quite ready to give up yet.

He was choking. He realized he couldn't breathe and real panic set in. He lost his rhythm with the pain as he tried to gasp for air, realizing he was unable to. Then, without warning, he couldn't move. He was pinned somehow...trapped. The pain continued to blaze through him as he struggled to move with it and desperately tried not to choke. He wanted to scream...to scream in frustration...to scream in pain...to scream for help...but he couldn't do that either. So he screamed in his head. And that's when he realized that sometimes silent screams are the loudest.

It was two days later when the motion finally stopped. McKay and Weir had been sitting with him for several hours, talking to him and trying to let him know they were there. There had never been any true sign of consciousness. He had not opened his eyes or spoken or given any indication of awareness. Beckett was hopeful that the constant motion was an automated response to the muscle cramps and spasms and that Sheppard was not really aware of what was going on. McKay had been the first to notice that, while the shaking remained, the rolling and thrashing had stopped. He had searched for Beckett for several minutes before finding him in the far, back storeroom.

"Carson, what are you doing back here, sacrificing chickens? You need to get up here right now. I think Sheppard's really asleep. He's quit all that flailing around he was doing."

Carson was at Sheppard's side a few moments later, checking him and his machinery over. He looked relieved when he was finished. "The worst of it's over. Looks like the cramps are finally settling. He should really be able to get some rest now." He looked over at the two exhausted friends. "And now, it's time for you to get some rest as well. Out with the both of ya." He shooed them out, telling them they could come back later...after they had gotten some rest.

Beckett stood watching the sleeping shell of John Sheppard. Pale, thin, and still on the respirator, he had a very long way to go. He had friends to help. Friends that wanted to help. He sure hoped that was enough.

TBC