Dr. Dredd, I promise my manual for computer repair would love a P90 also. My computer is limping through the days lately. Mandy, what's very sad is this fic was started a while ago. Finally told Shelly we ought to start posting because it's the one thing that keeps me writing. Otherwise, I tend to procrastinate!
Everyone, thanks so much for the reviews, they are so much fun to read!
Part Two
John found himself practically running to Rodney's lab. Which was a very stupid thing to do. For the most part the corridors were empty, so he didn't get any funny looks for running around Atlantis at an ungodly hour. It was stupid because running made John's head hurt. But he ignored the pain and found himself in front of the doors to the lab. He didn't go directly inside. Instead John began to pace as he reconsidered why he was here. The rational side of his brain, the bit that wasn't completely sleep deprived, argued that it was ridiculous being here. Rodney was fine. He probably wasn't even in his lab given the hour. So John almost took a step back down the corridor, only to realize he couldn't walk away until he knew for sure. Until he saw Rodney alive and well for himself.
Heaving a sigh, John thought the door open and stepped inside, only to freeze at the sight before him. Rodney was slumped over his lab table and he wasn't moving. John felt a cold spike of panic, laced with terror, and was about to run forward when he heard a sound that made him reach for his thigh holster. Only to recognize it for what it was. Rodney was snoring.
Relief washed over John in waves as he stepped over to McKay and gripped his shoulder. "Wake up!"
"Wha-what?" Rodney jumped and babbled and forced his eyes open. "Major?"
"Colonel," John reminded him. Again.
Rodney rubbed his eyes then glared at Sheppard. "Who cares? What are you doing here? What time is it? Why did you wake me up?" The questions were fired like bullets from a gun.
John winced and turned away. He really didn't want to answer any of them. Now that he knew Rodney was fine, he felt stupid. "I um...I was just passing by and heard a noise," he fibbed. "You shouldn't sleep hunched over. Bad for your back."
"Like you care," Rodney countered, even as he staggered to his feet and pressed a hand to his back while trying to stretch out the kinks.
"I care," John muttered beneath his breath. Maybe too much, he told himself. So he turned away and headed for the door. "Get some sleep, McKay!" John shouted over his shoulder. "It's late!"
Rodney blinked at his retreating form, looking a bit owlish. He looked confused and a bit peeved. "Same to you!" he shouted back, only for his words to bang against the door as it closed behind Sheppard's back.
oOo
After leaving McKay's lab, John wandered the hallways for a time, stepping into the transporter repeatedly, so he could explore different levels. He finally made his way out onto one of the balconies and watched the sun rise. He was way past tired now and he didn't know what to do about it.
Today was actually a day off for him and his team. A designated Sunday so to speak, which left John at loose ends. Which was a bad thing. It gave him too much time to overthink things. So he left the balcony and headed for the messhall. Maybe if he ate then showered then tried to sleep again he'd be okay. He felt a bit better having a plan of action and he was actually smiling as he entered the messhall and found Teyla in line before him. There were only a few other people around, given the early hour. John grabbed coffee and what passed for a danish and joined Teyla at her table.
"Are you busy today?" John asked her, as they sat down.
"Did you have need of me?" Teyla countered, as she poured syrup over her pancakes. A food John had introduced her too.
John shrugged. "Not really. I mean...if you're going to the mainland like you usually do that's fine. I just thought maybe we could fit in a practice session." Which was something he had just thought of. Exercise might make him tired enough to sleep without dreaming.
Teyla looked thoughtful for a moment, then she nodded. "I have something to take care of first, but we could meet in two hours? I will have time to go to the mainland after our session."
"That's perfect. Thank you." John grinned then took a big bite of his danish. It didn't taste as good as it looked, however, and he had to drain half his coffee to make it go down. John set it aside as he chatted with Teyla while she ate, then they parted company for the time being.
John figured he would check in with Weir and catch up on his reports, then he'd meet with Teyla. But when he headed for the transporter and the doors opened, Beckett stepped out. John caught the way the doctor was eyeing him, and sometimes he swore the man could read minds. "Morning, doc," John said, courteously.
Carson nodded. "Good morning, Colonel. Did you sleep well?"
"Um..." John considered outright lying, but knew he'd get caught out. There was no way he was hiding how tired he looked. "The pills didn't work," he confessed.
"Not at all?" Carson looked surprised.
John shrugged. "Slept about an hour before I woke up. Bad dream." He made a face.
Carson was tapping his chin as he studied Sheppard. "Okay then, we'll try something else. I want you to come to the infirmary tonight and I'll sedate you. I have something that will most definitely knock you out for at least eight hours. It's not something I'd normally do and I'm going to keep an eye on you, but it should do the trick."
"You mean you want me to sleep in the infirmary?" John countered. At Beckett's nod he shook his head. "Forget it. Can't you just give me a stronger pill?"
"No...I can't!" Carson's tone was sharp. "And you will come to the infirmary tonight, Colonel...or I'll tell Dr. Weir you're grounded. Which you will be if you don't get some sleep. Are you following me?"
John opened his mouth with every intention of protesting, but snapped it closed and simply nodded. He knew when he was defeated. Beckett could, and would, ground him. And if he didn't get some sleep soon, John knew he'd have to be grounded anyway. "What time?" he asked.
Carson glanced at his watch, out of habit no doubt. "Make it ten, unless you want to come in earlier?"
"Ten is good," John replied. "See you then." He stepped around Beckett and into the transporter. John figured he might as well tell Weir about what was going on. She'd find out sooner or later anyway.
oOo
After leaving Beckett, John did head for Weir's office, only she was in the middle of a meeting so he side tracked off to do his reports as intended. Time ticked by slowly then John was off to the gym to meet Teyla. He stopped by his room for his bag but still made it to the gym early. John stretched out on the window seat and let his eyes drift closed. He figured a catnap couldn't hurt. Only the minute he slid into sleep, the darkness shifted into shadows and the shadows formed into Ford and Sumner. Wraith-Ford. And this time he was sucking the life out of Sumner, who turned his old, pain-filled, eyes on John and whispered,
"This is all your fault. You did this, Major. You destroyed us both..."
"NO!" John felt the scream ripped from his throat even as his eyes flew open. He nearly toppled off the window seat, and would have had strong hands not stopped him from rolling. John blinked hard and found himself staring at Teyla's concerned face.
"Are you all right, Colonel?" she asked.
John scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat up, then he nodded. "Yeah...I'm good. Guess I dozed off for a moment."
Teyla eyed him with a narrowed gaze, studying him closely. "Perhaps we should postpone our session for another time," she advised.
"No...I want to work out. I'm fine!" John realized he was blowing his cool by sounding so desperate, but he didn't care. He stood up and fumbled in his gym bag for his sticks, then he moved to the center of the room. "I'm ready...let's do this," he invited.
"As you wish," Teyla replied, as she moved to face him.
Twenty minutes later, John realized what a stupid idea this had been. He was too tired to focus properly and Teyla took him down over and over again. This time he stayed down. "Okay...I give up," he panted at her, as she knelt down beside him.
Teyla nodded then smiled gently. "You have not been sleeping, Colonel. You are off your...game."
"Tell me about it." John accepted her hand and let her pull him to his feet. He then turned and stuffed his sticks back in his bag. "Guess I'll go shower and take a nap."
"You were dreaming," Teyla interjected, even as she moved to block him from the door.
John shrugged. "We all dream, Teyla." He did not want to have this discussion with her.
Teyla reached out and touched his arm, concern shining in her eyes. "If I can help you, I wish to do so."
"I know and...thank you." John knew she was sincere, but he also knew there was nothing she could do. "Look...I've already talked to Beckett and he's going to knock me out tonight. Just...kinda keep that to yourself...okay?"
"Of course." Teyla looked relieved. "Perhaps we can practice again tomorrow? After you have rested."
John smiled at that. "Absolutely. Once I get some sleep I'll be able to kick your ass but good."
Teyla chuckled. "Only in your dreams, Colonel," she replied, whapping him on the butt with her sticks as she glided by him. "I will check on you tomorrow, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind." John knew he was lucky to have her as his friend. "See you later," he told her, before heading out the door. He felt worn out as he made his way back to his room and into the shower. Worn out enough to attempt sliding into bed and closing his eyes. But a heartbeat later they snapped open. The image of Ford was still dancing in his head. Heaving a sigh, John slid out of bed, tied on his boots, and headed out the door.
oOo
The last person John wanted to run into was Rodney. So of course McKay was the very person John ran into on his way to the infirmary. His day hadn't gone too badly, over all. John had finished his reports and did a few inspections. He cleaned his weapons, took care of a few security issues with Caldwell, then he managed to eat half his dinner before retreating to his room and wading through ten pages of War and Peace. But now he was faced with Rodney, who was eyeing him with something to suspicion.
"Where are you going?" Rodney asked, bluntly.
"None of your business," John shot back, before he could stop himself.
Rodney eyed him with suspicion, hands clasped behind his back as he rocked on his heels. "Let me guess...you're here to ask for more sleeping pills? Am I right?"
John felt his jaw drop. He snapped it shut then glared at McKay. There was no way the man could know about that. Yet, obviously, he did. "Who told you?"
"No one," Rodney drawled, looking pleased with himself. "Although you just confirmed it for me. Thank you. So...what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me!" John snapped, and instantly wished he hadn't. The throbbing pain in his temples slid behind his eyeballs and started banging with a vengeance.
Rodney snorted. "Please, Major. We both know there are infinite things wrong with you. But that aside—
John cut him off sharply. "It's Colonel now! Not major! Try and remember that!" And that said, John turned on his heel and marched into the infirmary. By the time he reached Beckett's office, John had a hand clamped on the back of his neck. It felt like someone had a vise clamped around his head. Right at this moment he was more than ready to be knocked out.
"Colonel? What's all the commotion?" Carson had come out of his office and he looked concerned. "Did I hear yelling?"
"Yes...you did." It was Rodney who answered. He looked worried. "Colonel Sheppard was biting my head off. What's wrong with him?"
Carson stared at Rodney for a moment, then he looked Sheppard. "I left a pair of scrubs on the bed in the back corner. Get them on and I'll be in in a minute."
John was grateful to Beckett. He nodded slightly then moved off, leaving the good doctor to deal with one Rodney McKay. John didn't have the energy to do so, but he knew Beckett would deal with Rodney. After a good nights sleep, John would confront McKay and assure him he hadn't missed out on anything and that John was just fine. For now he was more than willing to strip off his uniform and pull on the scrubs. In fact, John was stretched out on the bed when Beckett showed up. "Is Rodney pissed?" John asked.
"He's...concerned," Carson replied. "He'd hate to have to train a new team leader." A smile curved Carson's mouth as he spoke. He then took Sheppard's vitals and he didn't look happy. "I think I'll start and IV, you're a bit dehydrated, Colonel. Then I'll give you the injection."
"Whatever." John was too tired to argue about it. He closed his eyes and Beckett moved around him. He didn't move or flinch when the IV was inserted, nor did he twitch when there was a sharp sting in his shoulder. "How long before I'm out?" John asked, as he felt a blanket draped over him.
Carson patted his shoulder. "Not long. Sweet dreams, Colonel."
John felt darkness creeping over him fast and he wasn't sure if he responded or not before he was dragged down into slumber.