PROTECTIVE INSTINCTS part 7

A/N Sorry about the short delay in posting this part. RL has caught up with me I'm afraid.

Carson Beckett scrubbed at his tired eyes, then reached into the drawer of his desk for the Tylenol. It had been a long few days, and the guilt hadn't abated any. He looked up again, checking on the Major without really knowing he was doing it, sighing when it was apparent nothing had changed. Not that he was expecting anything to have changed, but he could hope. He swallowed the medication with a sip of lukewarm water that had gone stale from sitting on his desk for too long, mentally reviewing the past few days, trying to find anything that he could use to help the man currently in the bed on the other side of the infirmary, or anything to assuage the guilt that was preventing him from sleeping.

The first few hours after Sheppard had dragged him along as hostage were unclear; he had after all had a concussion himself, and even now the headache lingered slightly. He had woken in a bed next to Sheppard's and that had been fine to start with, he could check on the Major's condition without leaving the comfort zone of his own bed, but after 36 hours, he'd been discharged back to his own quarters. He'd spent a fruitless day there scouring the medical texts he'd brought with him trying to find any information on catatonia, and methods of rousing patients from such a state, but there was very little, trauma surgeons rarely having to deal with such occurrences.

After a day spent doing an information search, then a night spent waking sweating from dreams in which Sheppard variously shot him, became unresponsive, or died, he'd had enough, and reported for work the next morning, ignoring the advice from his own doctor that he should still be on downtime. He'd snapped at the nursing staff, barked orders at his medical team, and had been so thorough in giving post mission check-ups that eventually he'd been left alone, a situation that suited him well given his current feelings. Even Elizabeth, who at the request of the infirmary staff had come to try to talk him out of it had eventually left, reasoning that behaviour so unlike their CMO would eventually work out of his system.

And it had, and after apologies all round, they had settled back into an uneasy routine, the silent presence of the Major preventing the easy camaraderie they had become used to. The nursing staff were doing everything for John, he was incapable of doing anything for himself, and it was only their dedication that was preventing his physical condition from deteriorating. And that was puzzling Beckett. After several days of complete inactivity, he would have expected at least the beginnings of muscle atrophy, and other signs that Sheppard's body was not being used, and yet there were none. It was as if the man were simply sleeping, but the wide open eyes, the vacant expression and lack of response gave lie to that.

The infirmary was quiet, it was night and the lights were dimmed. The peaceful background combined with the steady and monotonous beep, beep, beep that came from the cardiac monitor attached to Sheppard, the only piece of equipment currently in use, began to have a soothing effect on Carson, gradually lulling him off to sleep. He was, frankly, exhausted, both physically and mentally. His inability to get a decent night's sleep combined with the thoughts that kept running round his head, the 'I should have seen it coming; I should have found a way to prevent this' thoughts were draining him. Gradually his head began to lower, his eyelids drooped, and within a short space of time, he was asleep, head coming to rest gently on his desk.

He awoke sometime later with a crick in his neck, and a feeling something wasn't right. Disorientation struck him first, and it took a few minutes to work out where he was and why he was where he was. It was always like that when he was exhausted from being on call, but gradually recognition filtered through.

"Bloody Hell," he thought, lifting his head quickly from the desk, and wincing at the stiffness in his neck. Just how long had he been out? Judging by the congealed skin on the top of his coffee, it had to have been a couple of hours, at least. The feeling of 'wrongness' persisted, and looking round the infirmary, he felt it was too quiet. His heart skipped a beat when he realised the Major was gone, and had been for quite a time. When he checked, the bedding was cold, and the blood left from where the IV had been torn out was long dried into the linen.

At first, he stood there, conflicting emotions preventing him from deciding what to do. On the one hand he was delighted that Sheppard appeared to have come out of the catatonia, on the other hand he was filled with dread as to why that should be, and what he was up to now. The infirmary was empty, of that he was sure. There had only been himself and Sheppard there, he'd sent the duty night nurse off a while ago. Standing a moment longer, indecision rooting him to the spot, he finally decided he had to go and find out just exactly what was going on. He was momentarily surprised that the infirmary was locked, but shrugged it off and used his medical override to open the door.

First port of call, John's quarters. That's where he usually went when discharged from the infirmary, and it seemed as good a place to start as any. No need to inform Elizabeth or the duty security team if all the Major was doing was sleeping in his own bed. Moving along the corridors though, Beckett began to feel something was definitely wrong city wide. The lighting was dimmed as was usual for night time, but even so the doctor would have expected to see an occasional security guard, or scientist pulling an all nighter wandering the corridors. There was no-one, and his apprehension kicked up a notch. For some reason, the thought of calling the control room made him feel uneasy, so he held off for now. Just until he was sure.

By the time he had got to Sheppard's door, he was sure, but went through the motions anyway, again using his medical override to disengage the lock. No-one there, and by the looks of things, there hadn't been anyone there for a long time. By now feeling very anxious, and still with that curious reluctance to call the control room he decided to head there himself, and find out what was going on.

On the way, he tried calling Elizabeth and Rodney on their communicators, but got no reply, and that was unusual in itself. One of them should have responded. Carson Beckett was a doctor. A medical doctor, not a commando, but he could rise to the occasion if he needed to, and this seemed to be one of those occasions. He felt a detour to the armoury was needed too, and headed off in that direction.

Once there, again he had to use his personal authorisation to override the locking mechanism, and stepping inside tried to choose a suitable weapon for whatever might lie ahead. After spending a short time variously selecting then discarding several pieces, he ended up choosing a Wraith stunner, deciding that if he made any mistakes, at least the person he'd shoot would eventually get up and walk away. He quietly exited the armoury, re-locked the door, turned and walked straight into Major Sheppard.

Startled, he stepped back. Sheppard looked at him, face expressionless in the dim light.

"Major," began Carson, "I wasn't expecting to see you here. How're you feeling now then?"

Sheppard said nothing, and Beckett began to feel uneasy. He backed up a little, noticing that the Major followed.

"Major Sheppard, stop right there!" barked Beckett with an authority he didn't feel, hoping it would cause John to stop. When the Major carried right on coming, he tried for a different tack. "You should come with me back to the infirmary right now," he said gently but firmly, still backing up. The Major remained expressionless, and most disturbing of all, silent

Suddenly Beckett found himself being pushed back up against the wall, and none too gently either. "Put me down," he wheezed, gasping as Sheppard's hands squeezed around his neck, lifting him off his feet, back still forced up against the solid surface.

Sheppard did as bid, tossing the medic to the floor as if he weighed nothing. Beckett lay for a moment gasping, then realised the Major was coming in for another turn. He scrambled back, hand accidentally brushing against the stunner that he had dropped in the initial skirmish. Sheppard noticed, and kicked the weapon out of Beckett's reach. Beckett lunged after it, seeing stars as the Major's foot connected with his lower back. The Major followed him as he tried to crawl away, picking him up, and pummelling a fist into Beckett's midsection. Carson folded over, desperately trying to draw breath into his bruised lungs, when Sheppard's fist again made contact, this time with the medic's jaw. Beckett sprawled on the floor, seeing stars again, but realised he'd landed on top of the stunner.

With a turn of speed he didn't know he possessed, Carson snatched up the weapon, pointed it at Sheppard, then fired, not knowing whether to feel remorse or relief when the Major dropped at his feet. Something fell out of John's pocket, and lay glinting in the reduced lighting. A set of small keys. Carson scooped them up, not knowing what they were for, but reasoning they were probably important, and stuffed them into his own pocket. Then regretfully looking down at Sheppard, beat a hasty retreat towards the gateroom, limping against the soreness where John's bare foot had connected. The worst thing about the whole attack was that Sheppard hadn't uttered a sound, not one, and all the time his eyes had held that peculiar emptiness, as if he wasn't really there at all. Beckett couldn't have been more wrong. Sheppard was aware of every thing his body did, but was powerless to prevent it, and the anger inside was building.

By the time Carson made it to the command centre, he was feeling totally unnerved. Atlantis was like a ghost town. There was nobody in the place other than himself, it felt like, and when he finally reached his destination, he understood why. He found a vantage spot in the shadows where he could see what was going on without being seen himself unless someone was looking hard, and from where he was, he could see Elizabeth, Rodney, Ford, Teyla, Bates and Zelenka, chained together and then secured to the railing running around the balcony. He couldn't see anyone else, but felt sure they were all securely held somewhere also. After all, Sheppard would only have needed to access the main computer and use his gene to lock every door in Atlantis if he'd wanted to. The only doors he himself had needed to access had been locked, he mused, but then he'd expected them to be. And why he himself wasn't being held at gunpoint with the rest? Well the jury was out on that one, maybe Sheppard hadn't noticed him in the darkened infirmary, and, he had to admit, the Major didn't act as if he was firing on all cylinders right now anyway.

The command team were locked together with handcuffs, and for once, Rodney was quiet, looking more shell-shocked than anything. Movement close to the group of Atlantis personnel caught his attention, and he was astounded to see Sheppard there, checking his prisoners were still securely held. It was impossible. The man shouldn't have been able to recover from a stunner blast that quickly! He watched, stupefied as the Major then went over to the main computer, and dialled out.

The wormhole established, and in a flat, expressionless voice, Sheppard told whoever was on the other side that Atlantis was secure. The worm hole snapped shut, then almost immediately, the gate began dialling again, this time an incoming wormhole. Beckett craned to see the address lit up on the DHD, but was unable to from his vantage point, not that it would have meant anything to him anyway, but he felt any information would be useful at this point.

Elizabeth's shocked "What do you think you're doing?" dragged his attention away from the DHD and the expression on her face chilled him. He wasn't given long to ponder though; people were coming through the gate, and to his horror, he saw it was Commander Kolya, and Cowan from the Genii.

oOo

The two senior Genii commanders strode into Atlantis as if they owned it, and judging by the small size of the military contingency they had brought with them, they must have thought it was theirs too. 'Well,' thought Beckett, 'not if I can help it.' He watched a moment longer, as Kolya walked around Sheppard, looking at him like he would look at an interesting specimen in a museum. He leaned into Sheppard's personal space, grinning like the cat with the cream. Sheppard merely stared ahead, totally oblivious. Around them, the Genii soldiers were moving into strategic positions, one of them standing guard over the captive Atlantis personnel. Carson sighed again. He hated violence, and it seemed as if there was going to be no other way to get out of this one. He began creeping quietly to the rear of the handcuffed group, hoping no-one would notice and give him away.

He heard Elizabeth take in a sharp breath, and Rodney cried out, "What do you think you're doing?" He risked a quick peek, and saw the Major on the ground blood dribbling from a split lip, Kolya standing over him. He winced as Kolya let fly with a couple of kicks that were bound to cause more damage, but Sheppard remained passive throughout, not flinching, not moving. Carson chose to move a little more quickly, ignoring his aching body, taking advantage of the distraction caused by Kolya's actions. He heard rather than saw Kolya lash out again, then give up in disgust.

"There is no challenge in this!" he spat. "No honour in taking on a man who is unable to defend himself. But there are other ways a man can get his revenge." He heard Kolya move away and begin conversing with Cowan, both in low voices. And that was when things began to go wrong for Carson. Suddenly Sheppard was there, staring down at him, and he found himself hauled up unceremoniously, disarmed, and marched to where Kolya stood.

"Well, done Sheppard," said Kolya, ironically. Who do we have here?"

"Ma name is Carson Beckett. Ah'm the Chief Medical Officer here," replied Carson, accent thickening as it always did when he was under stress.

"Do we need him?" questioned Cowan.

"I think not," replied Kolya

"Then kill him."

"No, wait!" called out Elizabeth. "Dr. Beckett could be useful to you, he also has the ancient gene."

"We have our own healers, Dr. Weir," replied Cowan. "And Major Sheppard will give us as much access to the Atlantean technology as we could possibly want. He won't be able to help himself. Dr. Beckett is just one more useless appendage to our takeover. Kill him."

An evil gleam appeared in Kolya's eyes. He took the P90 that Sheppard had been holding until the arrival of the Genii and gave it back to him. "Stand up!" he ordered the quiescent Major. Sheppard obeyed, standing before Kolya like a Zombie, gun loosely held. Kolya indicated Beckett. "Kill him," he ordered the Major.

"Wait!" said Cowan. "Kolya, you know the Suventans said that too much stress was the only thing likely to cause us to lose control over Sheppard. Don't push him too far."

Kolya merely said, "Carry on, Major."

There was the briefest of hesitations, then Sheppard turned to face Beckett, and drew the gun up to his shoulder, regarding the medic with expressionless eyes.

Time slowed for Beckett; all he could focus on was the barrel of the gun pointing at his chest. Dimly he was aware of Elizabeth, Rodney and Zelenka pleading with their captors to stop this insanity, but it was the look in the major's eyes that finally caught his attention. Bracing himself, willing himself not to close his eyes, he stood straighter while Sheppard flicked off the safety….

TBC

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