Not the Daddy…part nine

Pregnancy clock: 3 months 1 week

Sheppard was exhausted, no, scratch that, he was comatose. The walking dead. Zombified. How the hell was Dreya functioning like this? He could hardly put one foot in front of the other, let alone face the stack of reports on his desk.

He'd drifted off to sleep hugging the toilet, only to wake with drool sliding down the bowl, and his face mushed and cold from the metal. John had contemplated his bed, but realized that he may as well try to catch up on work while he felt okay. Seeing how that was such a rare event lately.

It was going on past a week of hiding in his room, and he knew his friends were getting worried about him, but Jesus, give a guy time to break down quietly alone, you know? It's not every day you become the first man to experience pregnancy through first hand experience – well, second hand, but with first hand emotions and physical sensations. He'd thought he was coping emotionally, thought he could get through this, but when the throwing up resumed, it'd been almost all he could do to not break down and cry then and there. Carson had said this was a normal variant of pregnancy symptoms, but he'd overheard Teyla explaining to one of the Athosian women she trained that Dreya was one of those unlucky women who experience a more severe type of sickness.

Just his luck.

At least they were delivering his work to his room. Elizabeth wanted him to talk. Rodney wanted to record every last detail, hear about each sensation, while Ronon was still debating whether to end the bond through nefarious means. Well, okay, Ronon wouldn't really do it – at least, John didn't think he would. Never could tell with the Satedan. Teyla just kept smiling at him. And the comments. You'd think he'd gated to another galaxy with a comedian troupe. 'Hey, Colonel, you're positively glowing today!' or 'How's the little mother?' And his favorite, 'Have some extra, Colonel, you're eating for two now' from the messhall workers. Except he wasn't eating for two, he was eating for one, and what good did it do to eat when the damn food kept coming back up with stunning irregularity. Just when he thought he'd found a routine, it went and changed on him.

He shuffled another file to the side, and stared at what someone had stuck in the pile, and was now at the top of the stack. A DVD case with a very pregnant Arnold Schwarzenegger stared up at him with a dumbstruck look on his face, and a hand on the swollen stomach, a grinning Danny Devito holding a stethoscope to his belly, and a woman hanging on his shoulders smiling. Except, Sheppard's face had been pasted over Arnold's, and Beckett's over Danny Devito's with McKay's face replacing the woman's.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he settled for a mixture of both and vowed when he got his hands on the culprit, he was so dead. Zalenka. Had to be. The Czech was finding this hilarious, and had taken to following him around. 'Should you be doing this, Colonel?' 'Is that safe for the baby?' 'You should eat better, for the baby.'

He tossed the DVD across the room, pushed back away from the desk, and covered his face in his hands. God, this was ludicrous. And more than anything, he was so sick of being sick. It had to let up soon. He'd been given that brief taste of almost feeling normal, and then had it snatched away. Beckett could say it was normal till he was red in the face and slipping into an accent so thick no one could comprehend, but it wasn't normal for Sheppard.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Doctor Beckett, pick up your radio, son."

John pulled his hands back, and swiveled enough to stare at the communication's piece on his nightstand. He debated not answering, but knew that Carson could pull a medical override and get into his quarters.

Scrubbing his hands across his face, and only succeeding in making himself look more disheveled, he picked it up and slid it on, tapping the ear piece. "This is Sheppard, whadda you need, Doc?"

"You, Colonel. We need to start routine visits to keep up with your weight and general health. Today is the first day."

John's mouth dropped open. Beckett had to be kidding. "You're pulling my leg, Doc. I'm not physically pregnant, just mentally. I'm not going to gain weight, and I'm sure as hell not going to sit through regular exams."

Sheppard felt the taut silence and winced. Maybe he should've been a bit more…tactful…in his reply.

"Colonel," the icy tone wasn't lost on John, "You will do as ordered. You may not gain weight, but you sure as bloody hell are losing weight, and that's as much of a problem as the other, and we need to monitor your condition. I expect you in one hour, Beckett out."

Sheppard had started to retort over his dead body, and thought better of it, and anyway, Beckett hadn't given him the opportunity to dig his own grave deeper. Guess the doc knew him too well. One hour. Crap. That was hardly enough time to do anything, which is probably why he'd given him an hour.

Sighing, Sheppard decided he might as well grab something to eat and then head over there and get this check-up.

OoO

He stalked in to the infirmary fifty-eight minutes later, having deliberately lingered at the messhall, and then went in with guns blazing. He didn't even know why he was going to be so contrary today, but he just felt it in his bones. He was irritable, sick of it all, and didn't feel like holding his punches.

Of course, coming through the double doors and finding Beckett, Elizabeth, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon, sitting around on beds and apparently deep in conversation with Kate being the icing on the cake, froze him in his tracks. He pulled up so abruptly, he wasn't sure if he'd cleared the door, but it swooshing shut behind him cued him in that he had. Too bad.

"What's the party for? Premature baby shower?"

McKay snorted, Teyla frowned, and Elizabeth started to smile and wisely toned it down, while Kate and Beckett just watched him with those assessing eyes.

"We're concerned, John."

So, Elizabeth was going to bite the bullet and call him out. And this was the result. Scowling at them all, he turned and started to leave, when Beckett called him up short.

"Colonel, there's the matter of your exam."

John stopped, and turned around, finding a deathly calm. "And here I thought that was an excuse to pull some kind of – intervention – on me. Trying to get me to talk about my feelings," he said with exaggeration.

Kate took a step towards him, and Sheppard took one more back, but bumped into the door, which didn't open, and he had to wonder about that. Guess they didn't want to give him the chance to run.

She stopped when she saw his reaction. "Colonel, people are concerned about your well-being. No one expects you to handle this alone."

"What if I want to?"

"Maybe, if you were handling it, but do you really consider putting yourself in some kind of voluntary solitary confinement coping?" pressed Kate.

"He's coping the best he can," spoke Ronon, leaning against a bed. His entire stance radiated his opinion. He was siding with Sheppard. "This wasn't his choice."

"Thank you," said John with feeling. "Someone gets it."

Teyla shot Ronon a look so dirty it made Sheppard do a double take, before she said, "Colonel, this is a miraculous time for a woman. You have been gifted with a rare chance. No other man in your culture has been able to truly understand what it is like to bear a child. To give life where none was before."

"No man in my culture wants to experience the miracle, Teyla. These Eradian men want to do this, fine, but I'm not an Eradian man, I'm from Earth, and on Earth, men don't get pregnant. We don't do anything but sympathize with our wives and try to be some kind of coach at the end, and pray we don't screw up and pass out during the delivery. That's about as good as it gets, and I was just fine with that. This, this is crazy, I feel like my entire world has been yanked out from under me, and if I could just manage to Stop. Throwing. Up. Every. Freaking. Hour." And he ran out of gas. Simple as that. He just flatlined on the emotional scale. Shit.

And then his stomach flipped, and he dashed for a sink.

Once the heaves stopped, and his lunch was being washed down the waste pipes, he leaned back on the sink and took the wet rag from Beckett. He limply stared them down and said, "Happy now? You've made the 'little mother' ill."

Elizabeth was overtly smiling now. "Actually, yes. You finally admitted how much this entire situation pales beyond the bad for you. But now, let me ask you, what do you think about the first time when you feel the baby move?"

McKay was whispering something to Ronon, who was still glaring. Sheppard wondered what was so interesting, but he tried to focus on Weir's question. He was kind of stumped. He hadn't thought that far ahead, or more to the point, he'd thought past that point to the end of the pregnancy. He had two time periods in his mind, and that was the stage he was at now, miserable, sick and tired, and then the labor and delivery part.

He narrowed his eyes and looked accusingly at Beckett. "I can have drugs, right? You said I could have drugs."

"What the devil are you talking about?" asked a perplexed Beckett.

"The labor," supplied John. "Doc, I've had to deal with a lot already, and there are some things I'd rather not ever feel in my life, labor being one of them."

"I'll be your labor coach," McKay offered smugly, apparently done with the private conversation he'd been having with Ronon, who still appeared disgruntled, but toned down a few degrees.

Now it was Sheppard's turn to snort.

"Yes, you can have drugs." Beckett shot McKay a warning look.

Elizabeth persisted. "You still haven't answered how you'll feel when the baby moves for the first time, John?"

"You need to prepare yourself for these things, Colonel," agreed Kate.

"Fine, I'll prepare myself. It'll be some kind of creepy alien experience, and I'll be sure to record every thought for you to digest, is that good enough?"

Kate remained nonplussed, but Teyla and Elizabeth looked annoyed and that was fine by him. He shouldn't be the only one annoyed.

"Look, Doc, seriously, if you want to do these regular exams, fine, do them, but the audience has got to go. I don't need the entire city finding out how much I weigh, and I'm not peeing in a cup."

Sheppard shot a warning look at Rodney just as he was opening his mouth. McKay reconsidered, and snapped it shut.

Ronon grabbed the physicist and said, "Doctor McKay was going to run some tests on my weapon. Have fun, Sheppard."

As John watched them leave, he had to wonder when Dex had developed a sense of humor. That was almost a joke. Have fun. Ha ha ha.

Kate seemed almost appeased. "Colonel, I think we've made progress today. Remember, hiding in your room won't change your situation. We're here to help you. Talk to us."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "That's an order, John. I want you talking through this at least once a week. I don't care who, but you need to tell me who you've been talking to, is that clear?"

Yeah, he'd talk all right, he'd talk to that freaky alien pet Lorne had found on PX7-590. Bet it'd understand. "Sure," he agreed lazily.

He saw Elizabeth's suspicious look, but she nodded, and turned to Beckett. Send me a report on his condition."

"Aye, I will."

Elizabeth and Kate left, Kate pausing near him and squeezing his arm reassuringly, and that one little touch almost undid him. No mocking, no pressure to be something he wasn't, just sympathetic understanding. God, he was turning into an emotional wreck.

Beckett tapped a foot. "Hop on the scale, Colonel."

Shit.

He didn't like it, but he did it anyway. Carson tsked under his breath and noted something in a file. It didn't look like his regular file, so he peered at it cautiously and read: Sheppard, John T., Colonel – prenatal folder.

"What the hell is that, Beckett!" he roared.

Carson noticed the object of his fury and shrugged noncommittally. "Relax, Colonel. There are certain forms that are standard in the medical community, and procedures for handling things. Routine tests and results, everything is filed and handled in this particular way and it's easy for everyone. This way, I know we won't miss anything crucial."

John was seething. "This isn't routine, and I don't want a prenatal folder, and what the hell do you think could possibly go wrong that you have to monitor me with regular exams anyway, besides weight loss?"

Now it was Carson's turn to get pissy. "Look, Colonel. I can't tell you I know, nobody knows, but we do know about pregnancy in a female body, and as far as that goes there are all kinds of complications that crop up, and we can't take the chance that the only side effect of this bond is emotions. In fact, it's been the opposite. If anything, we've got direct proof that the bond manifests pregnancy symptoms and complications physiologically in your body. You have been sick, you experienced the pain with the miscarriage, your body is tired and the latest blood tests from when you were injured," Carson stared pointedly at the slight lump under his shirt on his shoulder, "show borderline anemia indicating the depletion one would expect in a woman's vitamin stores is happening to you. This indicates a potential for pregnancy induced conditions such as diabetes, pre-eclampsia, bloody hell, plenty of things we need to monitor, whether you like it or not!"

His tirade stunned Sheppard…a little. But not enough to deter him. "Did you stop to think the anemia was from losing blood when I was SHOT?" He practically shouted the last word.

"Do you think I'm daft, man? Of course I did, which is why we repeated the tests before you were released. It was then that the staff decided you needed to be followed just as we would a pregnant woman, and there's nothing you can say that will convince me differently."

Sheppard could tell he was losing. The problem with being a patient is you've got little say when you are in the military. You follow orders, whether you liked it or not, and he supposed he should be thankful that Caldwell was currently en route to Earth and he didn't have to face being told by a superior to shut up and take it like a man. Like a man. Oh, that was funny.

"What's so amusing?" asked Beckett warily.

"Pretty much my entire life, Doc."

Wisely, Beckett didn't try to argue that one. "You're down almost ten pounds, Colonel. That's serious. Those are pounds you could ill-afford to lose. I'm sending you to the dietician, and you will follow her suggestions, understood?"

"Whatever," agreed Sheppard.

Beckett gestured for him to hop up on an exam table. He did so reluctantly.

"So, what can I expect from these routine exams, anyway?" John figured he might as well find out now what he was going to have to deal with and get it over with. Less painful in the long run, right?

"Standard tests. Urine, blood initially just to get a baseline on your levels. We'll be starting you on iron supplements today, and I'll prescribe a stool relaxer."

Sheppard spluttered, "What for?"

Beckett stopped writing and regarded him patiently. "The iron may make you constipated. It's a common side effect."

"As if I don't have enough 'side effects,'" grouched Sheppard.

Beckett set the chart down, and pulled the blood pressure cuff off the wall, strapping it to John's arm. "Blood pressure checks, weight, of course, and we're going to try something experimental today, just to see -"

"Experimental?" Sheppard didn't like the sound of that.

"Actually, it's a theory of mine that if we listen with a Doppler, we can hear the baby's heartbeat. I'm in the minority on this one, but we'll see."

John chuckled. "I think you're cracked, Doc. The baby isn't inside me, you aren't going to hear squat."

"I'm not so sure. It seems to me this bond was created in the Eradian people for something more than a way for the men to share. Usually biological evolution comes about to serve a purpose. The only survival purpose that makes sense is that the man sharing would serve as another 'monitor' to the baby, basically. If something happens to the baby, you'll feel it as well. And, I talked to Dreya, you started feeling the pain from the twin's miscarriage before Dreya."

The news stunned John. He sat their dumbfounded while Beckett finished taking his blood pressure, and forced a thermometer between his frozen lips. "Are'y s'rious," he asked in disbelief finally, speaking around the device under his tongue.

Carson rolled his eyes and took the thermometer out when it beeped. "As I thought, slightly high, which is normal in pregnant women."

"Is that why I've started to feel hot all the time?"

"Yes, quite normal, as I said, it'll get worse towards the end."

Sheppard had enough shocks for the day. "You know, you can stop trying to send me into a catatonic state, Doc. Enough revelations for the day."

"Forewarned is prepared, Colonel."

Beckett dropped the back of the exam table down, and started guiding John to his back. Panicked, Sheppard resisted, "Woah, woah, there, Doc. There isn't anything in that area that needs examining!"

Now Beckett did laugh. "The heartbeat, Colonel, lift your shirt."

John still wasn't sure about it, but he slowly complied. When Beckett pulled a machine out of his lab pocket and slathered some kind of jelly on the end of the wand, he seemed even more uncertain. When Beckett started unbuttoning Sheppard's pants, he bolted off the table, and maneuvered till it was between them. "There isn't any heartbeat down there, I promise."

Beckett pursed his lips. "Colonel, Dreya is roughly three and a half months along, which means the baby is still low in her uterus. I'm trying to get a similar location on your body. I won't go past the hair line, promise."

Sheppard thought about it, and with one hand holding up his pants, lifted a warning finger at Beckett and said, "You promise?"

"Scouts honor," swore Beckett.

"Okay, because there is only one hole down there, and I'll be damned if your sticking that thing up it," he muttered under his breath, then blushed furiously when a nurse behind him started giggling.

Oh, god, kill me now, he thought, but he hopped back on the table and laid down, this time slipping his pants to just halfway past his hips. This was mortifying.

Beckett approached, and slipped the Doppler on John's flat stomach. The cold gel caused him to suck air in between his teeth. "That's freezing!" he complained.

"Sorry, Colonel."

John didn't think he sounded it much.

He heard a heartbeat and stared at Carson in surprise. "Is that -?"

Beckett shook his head, concentrating on John's stomach, moving lower. "That's your heartbeat, hear how slow it is, the baby will be faster." And just as he said it, a rapid whush-whush filled the room.

Beckett's face cracked in a wise smile. "I knew it!" he crowed.

But John wasn't paying attention to Beckett. He was listening to the lightning fast, impossible sound, of a baby's heartbeat, coming from him, and it was the most amazing thing he'd ever heard before.

The End…of part nine