INSOMNIA...part 8

"Everyone dies because of you, Sheppard."

He shook his head. "No, Sir. That's not true!"

Sumner laughed, a harsh sound rattling out from the thin, deflated, chest of an old man. "Sure it is. You started long before coming to Atlantis too. Dax and Mitch and countless others. I feel almost honored to have been your first in the Pegasus galaxy. But you rack 'em up fast, Sheppard. All those Genii...pop, pop, pop. Gone. Gall and Abrams? All yours. Now Ford."

"NO!" John was shouting now, shouting out a lie and they both knew it. He raised his hand, his berretta tight in his grasp and pointed it at Sumner. But only for a moment. Arm trembling, John lifted it to press against his own temple and pulled the trigger...

"SHIT SHIT SONOFABITCH!" He came out of sleep, jerking upright, feeling the IV needle rip out of his skin, heart thudding hard against his ribs, pulse racing, skin slicked in a cold sweat and bile rose in his throat. He tried to fumble out of bed when suddenly a bed pan was in front of him and a solid hand curled around the back of his neck, offering support as he vomited until it felt as if his stomach had turned inside out.

By the time John stopped puking, he was shaking so hard and felt so weak that he was pretty sure he zoned out for a few minutes, because the next thing he knew a cool cloth was on his forehead and someone was taking his pulse. John peeled his eyes open, blinked hard, and recognized Doctor Bailey. She was in her fifties with gray hair, dark eyes and a soft smile. Before he could open his mouth she was holding out a glass.

"Mix of water and mouthwash," Doctor Bailey informed him. "Rinse your mouth and you'll feel better."

John did as she suggested and getting the sour taste out of his mouth did help. He handed the glass back, noting that his hand was still shaking, then glanced at his other hand and saw that his IV was back in. God he hated those things. "Sorry about this," John said softly, and his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

She shrugged. "Not your fault. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit." John was too worn out to even consider lying about it. "Where's Beckett?"

"I sent him to bed about half an hour ago. He's dead on his feet." As she spoke, Bailey fussed with the blankets.

John felt a twinge of guilt. It was his fault that Beckett was exhausted. "Maybe he'll get in a few z's for me," he joked. Or tried to joke. By the look on Doctor Bailey's face, his attempt fell short.

She eyed him with concern. "Feeling up to trying a bit of toast? You need to get something in your stomach, Colonel."

"Maybe later." John felt nauseous just thinking about food.

"Try a bit of juice then," the doctor countered, holding out a mug.

Before John could accept it, not that he intended to actually drink it, a knock sounded at the door. He watched her cross the room to open it, taking the mug with her. A moment later, Zelenka entered and moved to his bed side. "Is something wrong?" John asked, trying to read the other man's expression.

Zelenka shook his head. "Nothing is wrong, I wish to visit you." He turned to look at Doctor Bailey. "Is that allowed?"

"If Colonel Sheppard feels up to it," Bailey conceded, but she looked doubtful.

"Sure...I'm good," John replied, and he didn't even wince at the lie. He was rather glad Zelenka had shown up. He needed to be distracted.

The doctor looked like she might argue with him, but instead she nodded. "All right then. Chat for a few minutes while I head to the messhall for some toast." She shook a finger at Zelenka. "But only for a few minutes."

John made a face "What difference does it make?" he countered. "It's not like he's interrupting my sleep!" John knew he sounded a bit peevish but he was past the point of caring. He would play nice later.

"A few minutes," Doctor Bailey reiterated, before stalking out the door.

"How are you really, Colonel?" Zelenka asked, the moment the door slid shut again.

John sighed then shrugged. "Not so good," he allowed.

Zelenka nodded. "Rodney has told me," he confessed. "I have brought you something." He dug in one pocket then pulled out his hand and opened his fingers. Lying in his palm was a small, red, pill.

"What is that?" John queried, his curiosity piqued.

"You would call it a downer," Zelenka replied, without hesitation. "Is very potent."

John could feel his eyebrows arching into his hairline. "Where did you get it?" Suspicion colored his tone. Not that he was going to yell at Zelenka or anything, but the Czech was pretty damn crafty when he wanted to be.

Zelenka grinned, his eyes twinkling, before shaking his head. "That you do not need to know. Do you wish to take it? Is your choice."

"Is it safe?" That wasn't exactly what John had intended to say. He figured he was stupid to even consider it, yet he was also desperate.

"Is safe," Zelenka stated, looking a bit offended. "I would not offer if it wasn't."

John knew that. "Sorry. I'm not thinking all that clearly right now." He watched Zelenka relaxed and knew that he was forgiven. "Hand it over." John held out his own hand and watched Zelenka drop the pill into it. He glanced over to his nightstand and snagged the glass of water that was sitting there. A moment later he tossed back the pill with a few sips of water, letting Zelenka put the glass back. John leaned his head back into the pillows, closed his eyes and asked. "How long?"

A moment of silence then Zelenka said, "Should be immediate."

"Okay." John waited for lethargy to wash over him but, instead, he felt a kind of buzzing. Then a tingling sensation and suddenly he felt wide awake. Pumped up awake. "Uh oh," he whispered.

"Uh oh?" Zelenka echoed.

John opened his eyes and blinked at him. "I don't' feel sleepy," he explained. "I feel...buzzed."

Zelenka looked stricken. "Oh no!"

"Don't say that," John requested. Something bad always happened when someone said that. And this time he knew whatever it was, it was going to happen to him.

"Kavanagh is a dead man!" Zelenka snarled, and as he spoke he pulled at his hair, making it stand up on end.

John chuckled as he stared at him. "You've got that Albert Einstein vibe going on," he teased.

Zelenka wasn't paying attention to him. He was muttering to himself in Czech before heading for the door.

"Later!" John called after him, then he found himself tugging out the IV and rising to his feet. He felt a bit loopy but much more focused than he had in days. He didn't know how long this feeling was going to last, so he was going to take advantage of it while he could. First up was a shower. John felt clammy and sticky and he was tired of lounging around in bed. So he jumped in the shower, dressed in his uniform, minus the jacket and his gun, then he made his way to Elizabeth's office.

She was more than a little surprised to see him up and about. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" She asked.

John shrugged. "Probably and I'm sure I'll be back there pretty soon, but I feel pretty good for the moment."

"Doctor Weir!" It was Beckett and he looked ragged and was panting and when he caught sight of Sheppard he looked stunned. "Bloody hell, Colonel!" he snarled.

"Chill out," John told him. "I'm okay. For the moment." A very short moment, because even as he spoke the room tilted a bit and John found himself being manhandled into a nearby chair. He blinked Beckett's worried face into focus and felt fingers circle his wrist. "I'm...I'm good," John whispered.

Beckett huffed a sigh. "No...you're not. I just got done talking to Zelenka. What the hell possessed you to take the damn pill, Colonel? At the very least you should have checked with me first and I would have told you not to do it!"

John winced as Beckett's voice rose in volume. "Sorry...sorry." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Look...it seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean...Zelenka said it was safe and I trust him."

"Back up!" Elizabeth interjected. "What am I missing? What pill and what does Zelenka have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," John replied, not wanting Zelenka to get in trouble. But he could tell that Elizabeth didn't believe him.

Carson glared at Sheppard then turned to Elizabeth. "Long story short, Zelenka gave Sheppard what he thought was a downer. Which might have helped him sleep or it might not. I'm inclined to believe not. But that's neither here nor there given that the pill was actually and upper. A very potent upper."

Elizabeth looked like someone had slapped her. She turned to look at Sheppard, eyes narrowed and gaze intense. "So you're high at the moment?"

"Guess so." John wasn't feeling particularly buzzed, just pleasantly awake. It was a relief in so many ways and he wanted it to last forever.

"He's going to crash, badly," Carson stated, ruining the moment.

Elizabeth winced. "How will it affect him health wise?"

John stood up and stated loudly, "Hey! I'm still here you know. Stop talking around me!" That said he pushed past both of them and stalked out of the room, ignoring Elizabeth's order to get his ass back in there. Instead John stepped into the nearest transporter. He didn't have a particular destination in mind, he just didn't want to waste a single minute of feeling almost normal again.

oOo

He ended up at the gym. Ronon was there and John didn't stop to think. He just invited him to spar, using sticks. He was glad when Ronon accepted the offer and a moment later they were in combat.

John's body had never felt so fluid, so in synch. Ronon had the greater strength, but he had less agility and speed overall which John used to his advantage. And the best part of all was that he could be as aggressive as he wanted. So John let it all out, his sticks clashing against Ronon's as they circled the room.

But all good things had to come to an end and John felt a wave of vertigo that sent him stumbling to his knees. He vaguely heard Ronon calling his name as white dots danced before his eyes, then they blazed into blinding light that faded to black.

John didn't feel Ronon catch him, lift him into his arms, and run with him as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

THE END...of part 8