AN: Thanks so much for the reviews, and parisindy, here you go! I'm going to try and get the updates to where we are currently on this fic this morning, and get the newest chapter of our other fic posted before I have to get to work.

rogue, yeppers, Shep is going to owe Teyla an apology, but methinks he might temper it a bit with a 'what were you thinking' over suggesting the tea. The poor guy has been force fed treatments that are worse than the Insomnia (yes, you all are very right, we are cruel evil disturbed whumpers)!

INSONMIA...part 6

John wasn't sure if he should be thrilled or terrified, but he was tired enough to ask, "What's the idea?"

Moving cautiously, closer to the bed, Rodney replied, "Massage therapy."

"What?" John and Carson spoke in chorus.

"Did I stutter or something?" Rodney shot back, looking irritated. "No...of course I didn't. But I'll say it slower so you neanderthals can understand me. "Maaaassaaaage theeerapyyyyy."

John closed his eyes and curled up into a fetal position. He felt like shit warmed over then shit on again. Let Carson deal with Rodney. But a hand gripped his shoulder and shook him, so John snapped his eyes open and attempted to glare at Rodney. Apparently it had no effect.

Rodney was still looking smug. "This will work, trust me. I know of what I speak." He squeezed Sheppard's shoulder then seemed to remember that the Colonel was sick and he snatched his hand back, rubbing his palm against his pant leg. "You fall asleep but you can't stay asleep, correct?" he continued.

"Aye, that's the problem," Carson interjected, answering for Sheppard.

"Then we relax him enough, along with one of your sedatives, to keep him asleep. He's really just too wound up to shut down his brain. Happens to me all the time."

John blinked at Rodney and had to ask. "So you use massage therapy? What...you smuggled a masseuse to Atlantis in your back pocket?"

Rodney was looking smug again. "Andrea, she's a botanist, she used to work as a therapeutic masseuse."

"And you know this how?" John prompted.

"She overheard me talking about my back and how I pulled a muscle in it while out on a mission one day and she offered to help." As he spoke, Rodney flushed a pale pink and stared resolutely at his feet. "Anyway...I was going to refuse, of course, but she gave me a demonstration and it was so effective I let her...um...do her thing. My back felt much better."

John snorted as he watched Rodney go from pink to red. "I'll bet, he drawled," then he glanced over at Beckett. "You're not saying anything, Doc. Bad idea?"

Carson shrugged. "Perhaps not. At this point I think we should try pretty much anything. But you do realize you have an appointment with Heightmeyer, Colonel." Carson broke off to glance at his watch. "She's supposed to be here in an hour."

"You know what...I don't feel up to talking to her right now," John countered. "Seriously...I just want someone to shoot me and put me out of my misery."

"Aye...I know." Carson offered a sympathetic smile. "I'll postpone the session until you're feeling better."

Rodney looked impatient. "Good...that's good. So when should I send Andrea in? She's available as needed."

John groaned and closed his eyes again. "I appreciate the thought, Rodney...but I seriously doubt massage therapy will help."

"Genius here," Rodney interjected. "It will help. Trust me. Besides...it can't hurt, right?"

"Rodney might have a point, Colonel," Carson stated. "But first things first. Let's get you feeling better." He reached for Sheppard's wrist to take his vitals. "How's the nausea?"

John considered and was pleased to realize his stomach was actually settling. "It's better," he replied, gratefully.

Carson looked pleased. "Good. Rest a bit then I want you to try eating a bit of toast. We need to get something in your stomach."

"Later, way later," John protested, as did his stomach. The very thought of food made him want to barf again.

"You'll actually feel better with something in your stomach," Carson assured him. "Once you're able to keep something down, I'll see about giving you something else to help you sleep. Meanwhile...we'll pump more fluids into you and that should make you feel better as well."

John hoped Beckett was right. "What about the massage thing?" he asked, and he was surprised at himself for doing so. It wasn't like he really thought it was going to help.

Rodney looked happy though. "Rest like Carson says and when you feel up to it I'll bring Andrea in."

"Let's just hold off on that for the time being," Carson stated.

"I want to try it," John declared, and he almost laughed at the surprised expression on Beckett's face. "Like you said, Doc. It's worth a shot. I'm pretty desperate." John was being completely honest at this point. He wanted to sleep and he would try anything that might help him. Other than Athosian tea.

Carson gave a defeated sigh. "Aye...I suppose it's worth a try. But first things first. You have to get some food in you."

John winced but nodded. "Fine...whatever. Just have a basin handy."

"On that disgusting note, I'm leaving," Rodney interjected, then he turned and headed for the door.

"Thanks!" John called after him. It was nice that Rodney was trying to help.

Rodney waved a hand and kept walking.

John sighed and closed his eyes.

Carson fussed with the blankets. "I'll get that toast," he said, then he was gone.

John didn't move. He just lay there, willing himself to sleep.

oOo

By the next morning John felt better. He was able to keep down toast and normal tea. He felt strong enough to shower and that made him feel even better. Enough so that he asked to be allowed to return to his room. Carson had hemmed and hawed but finally agreed. But only after John promised to keep his appointment with Kate the following night.

John had promised and now he was back in his room. He had just gotten his boots off when a knock sounded on the door. Not all surprisingly, it was Rodney. And he had a pretty blond woman with him. "You must be Andrea," John said to her, offering a weak smile.

"Yes I am," Andrea replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Colonel. Or may I call you John?"

"Uh...sure. John is fine." He smiled then looked at Rodney. "I thought we were going to wait on this?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Why wait? You're tired now, right?"

John couldn't deny that if he tried. Especially when he swayed on his feet and would have fallen had Rodney not caught his arm. "Right...tired." He let himself be pushed down onto his bed.

Andrea knelt beside him, a hand on his knee. "It's all right, John...I'll take good care of you." She then looked at Rodney and waved a hand at him, "you can go now."

"Oh...right." Rodney nodded then headed for the door. "Just you wait, Colonel...in a few minutes you'll be sound asleep."

"Great." John was all for that. He watched Rodney leave then looked at Andrea. She had a slightly feral smile on her lips. "Um...so...what do I do?"

Andrea stood up. "Strip and lay down on your stomach."

John frowned at her. "Strip?"

"It works better if you're naked."

"Oh." John felt his eyebrows climb up his forehead. "Ooookay. Um...how about stripping down to boxers?"

Andrea shrugged. "I suppose that will work, but I'm surprised you're so shy, John. I don't think you have anything to be ashamed about."

John realized she was flirting with him and that he was way too tired to appreciate it. He decided, instead, to trust in Rodney's word. With that in mind he stood up, stripped down to his boxers and stretched out on his stomach, on the bed. A moment later he felt Andrea moving on the bed and then her warm weight settling over his thighs. Then slick hands were gliding over his back and John wondered when she had oiled them, only to decide he didn't care. It felt like heaven. He let his eyes drift shut as Andrea worked her magic. He could feel the tension unknotting from muscles he didn't even know he had. Then, finally, he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

He didn't feel Andrea slipping off his boxer, or feel her nipping kisses across his skin, leaving faint hickeys. But John did dream about his first lover, an older woman, and the great summer he'd spent learning all kinds of fun and sexy things about women. It was a great dream until his girlfriend turned into a red-haired wraith and John relived killing Sumner all over again. Only Sumner turned into Ford and Ford wouldn't die and John couldn't stop him when he killed everyone on Atlantis.

"NO! NO!"

"John!"

He felt hands on his face and a soft voice and his eyes flew open. He had to blink hard to bring Elizabeth's worried face into focus. "What? What time..." John broke off as he tried to remember. "Andrea?" He looked around but the blond was gone.

Elizabeth looked grim. "I sent her away."

"What? Why?" John was more than a little bit confused. He made to sit up, the sheet sliding down his torso, only to realize something. He was naked under the blankets. "What the hell?" John gripped them and brought them up to his chin, fighting a flush as he realized Elizabeth was sitting on his bed with him naked. Maybe he was still dreaming.

"Long story short, I came to check on you and I found Andrea naked and...well...you get the picture." Elizabeth looked a bit uncomfortable, but her expression was calm enough.

John groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "My life sucks. Seriously sucks. How long did I sleep?" As pissed off as he was, pissed off and embarrassed, he figured maybe there was a saving grace to what had happened.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Just over an hour."

"Sonofabitch!" John's voice echoed through the room and he winced. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I know you're running on empty right now." Elizabeth reached out as if to pat his arm but dropped her hand and rose from the bed. "I'm going to send Carson in to see you. I think he intends to try sedating you again, and in the morning you're set to talk with Kate."

John knew she was telling him he had no choice and he was worn out enough to accept it "Fine...whatever."

Elizabeth nodded and took her leave.

The moment she was gone, John got up and got dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. He had just settled back in bed with War and Peace when a knock sounded. "Come on in, Doc!" John called out. He watched Beckett enter, move to his side, then stare at him. "What?"

"Nothing." Carson was obviously lying. "So...we know massage therapy doesn't work."

"Weir told you what happened?" If he hadn't been so tired, John was pretty sure he would have blushed.

Carson nodded. "She did. Now...I have another sedative that's very strong. It might make you sick, so I'm leaving it up to you to decide if you want it or not."

John didn't hesitate, he just held out his arm. "Go for it."

"I'll hook up an IV. It works better as a drip." That said, Carson went to work unpacking his medical bag.

"God I hope this works," John whispered, as he closed his eyes. If it didn't he was pretty sure he would go insane.

THE END of part 6