Next Day

Beckett had visited Elizabeth and he had told her the bulk of the story regarding Sheppard. She had been surprised to hear that his father was responsible for both the deletion point in the file but also his relocation to Antarctica. It sounded as though Sheppard had had a tough time in the period before Atlantis and she wondered if his life had always been so traumatic.

Beckett had told her that the withdrawal wouldn't be pleasant as even though Sheppard had insisted he was done taking the tablets and had before managed to get off them, the second time around would be worse and he would be screaming out for relief by the end of it.

A groan from inside the infirmary had both Elizabeth and Mckay looking at each other with a terrified expression. Again the pained noise sounded out and a fist slammed down onto something.

"Do you think he's okay in there?" she asked as she sat across from the nervous scientist.

Mckay stood up and started pacing, "I'm going in."
"Rodney, Carson said to stay out here for a reason."

"Sheppard needs me. He told me himself," said Mckay crossing his arms and attempting to peer into the infirmary.

Elizabeth stood now and rubbed her hands together, "He sounds like he's in pain."

Something clattered to the floor within the infirmary and Mckay finally sighed and ran in to see what was happening. Sheppard obviously wasn't happy and when he pulled back the curtain he could see Beckett crouching on the floor retrieving a bed pan and Sheppard shouting some colourful expletives.

"What's going on?" asked Mckay running over to the side of Sheppard's bed. The man looked tired beyond exhaustion and he appeared to be sporting a fever. His hands were shaking as he gripped onto the railing loosely, "I'm not going to the bathroom in that," he said pointing and lying back in bed.

Beckett emerged from the floor and looked over to where Elizabeth was hanging back and watching the commotion. "I'm not letting you go," said Beckett haughtily.

"I need to pee," said Sheppard angrily, "You can come watch if it makes you feel any better but while I'm still…cognitively here.." he said waving his hands around madly, "I want to go…..Elizabeth!" he said turning and seeing her suddenly.

"How are you……feeling?" she asked taking a cautious step forwards.

"I need……" he paused, "Me and Beckett are having some issues, aren't we?"

Beckett walked towards Elizabeth and ushered her out of the room, "He has a fever as a result of his withdrawal, he's not thinking straight," and once they were out into the corridor he said, "He's not too happy either."

"How is he doing?" asked Elizabeth as she heard Sheppard shout something at Mckay behind her.

"He's losing some of his lucidity with the fever. He's had some stomach cramping and sickness but nothing to worry about at the moment. He'll be feeling bad for a while but Percocet has a short half life. He'll be taking half a tablet every 6 hours."

"He's still on the pain meds?" she said disappointedly.

"The rule of thumb is "the lower the slower".I cant take him off the tablets all at once.
I'll be doing it more like 2, then 1 3/4, 1 5/8, 1 9/16." he touched her arm, "He'll be fine. He just needs to work out why he did this again."

She nodded.

Sheppard was making some noise again behind them and yet again there was the distinct clatter as equipment hit the floor.

"If you'll excuse me." He said as he raced back into the room.

He found Sheppard standing up next to the bed one hand around Mckay's neck, the other reaching for the bed rail and Mckay's hand was outstretched towards the I.V pole which lay on the floor now, "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Toilet," said Mckay feebly as he tried to hold onto Sheppard.

Sheppard pushed off the bed rail and started to walk unsteadily towards the bathroom, "Whether you like it or not," he said, "I'm going to keep hold of my dignity and I'm going to go in a toilet." As he walked off his gown flapped open to reveal his bareass and it was Beckett who scrambled after him to pull it tightly closed.

Sheppard shoved him off and stumbled into the toilet.

"He begged," said Mckay as he repositioned the I.V pole.

"I don't care," said Beckett putting his hands on his hips and waiting outsode the bathroom door, "He shouldn't be up at the moment. He should be resting."

"He's not really physically sick though…is he?" asked Mckay, "He's mentally unhinged."

"He's not unhinged," said Beckett sadly, "He could help himself if he realised why history is repeating itself."

"What do you mean?" asked Mckay.

Beckett opened his mouth to answer when there was a flush and the door reopened. Sheppard was helped back to bed by both men and he flopped back onto the pillows as soon as he was back to where he should be.

"Now you need to rest," said Beckett.

"I feel fine," said Sheppard.

Beckett knew that he was hiding the inner misery he most likely felt and just like nicotine addiction the urge to take the easy way out and have one of the numbing pills would be knawing away at him.

"You're not," said Mckay pulling up the covers to Sheppards chin.

He slapped at his hands and pulled the blanket up himself, "Really, I don't feel bad. Not like the first time."

"Well you will," said Beckett, "So I'd rest up. Perhaps you could get him some food Rodney."

"I'm not hungry," said Sheppard.

"I'll get him some," said Mckay and he walked out of the room.

Out in the corridor he slumped against the wall and took in a deep breath.

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Mckay dropped the tray down noisily in front of Sheppard and some of the soup within the bowl slopped out onto the side.

Sheppard snapped his fever addled eyes and brain into action and eyed the soup with a disgusted look on his face, "Have I just been sick in that bowl?"

Mckay sighed and dropped down into a seat next to the bed, "Its pea soup. I think there are little croutons in it too." He had a bowl himself and set it aside to cool.

Sheppard picked up a spoon and circled it around the swill, "Where's the smiley face?"

"You didn't appreciate my artistic talents before so I figured this time you could go without."

"Well if it hasn't got a smiley face, I'm not eating it," said Sheppard pushing it away and groaning as his stomach did a roll. Either way he wasn't going to eat it.

"You just don't want to eat it," said McKay, "I was afraid of this," and he took the soup away and replaced the bowl with a silver bag, "Open it."

Sheppard squinted against the light that came off the bag and with a deep breath he pulled it open and looked inside, "Turkey."

"Your favourite."

"Usually," said Sheppard now rejecting this heavenly sandwich.

"What about some.."
"Rodney, I'm not hungry!" Sheppard snapped suddenly. He immediately put a hand over his eyes as he had jolted his head and reawakened the headache he had managed to shift, "Shit," he muttered as his stomach continued to feel unsteady, "I'm sorry, just stop showing me food, talking about food, eating food." He opened his eyes and watched as Mckay took a bite of the sandwich and then slurped some of the green soup off the spoon. It would have been enough to send anybody over the edge but amazingly he kept himself fairly controlled and merely groaned and slunk back into the bed, "You're killing me," he said holding his stomach as a ripple surged through it.

"You okay?" asked Mckay.

"Stomach cramps," said Sheppard rolling onto his side and knocking the tray to the floor, "They come and go." He clenched his teeth together and gripped the rail, "The worst thing is, is I know…." He pointed at the medical cabinet across the room, "I know..what could help is in there," he breathed in sharply and rolled onto his other side, "Talk."
"What?" Mckay said.

"Talk about anything. Who do you hate in the lab this week? Anything."

Mckay realised that he needed a distraction and he settled back to eating his soup and started talking, "Kavanagh. He stole my stool."

"What?" Sheppard managed to grind out, "Stool?"

"Yeah, it was there one minute and then next…poof……gone."

"You..sure…?" said Sheppard and he sat up stiffly, hunched over and pushed his hand into his side, "You sure it wasn't Radek?"

"No, it was Kavanagh..bastard," he said through a spray of bread, "I mean, that guy is an ass."

"No kidding," said Sheppard and he sat back as the pain passed for the minute.

"Better?"

"Yeah,…" he breathed in slowly and sighed, "I'm a mess."

"Well that's a given." Mckay joked but his eyes held an edge of seriousness, he watched Sheppard despite his knowledge in the hopes he was showing the signs of being anything but a mess.

"No..I am. I let you all down."

"How so?" asked Mckay pushing his food to the side, "-because you need a little help?"

"Ha," Sheppard said, "I did this. Me."

"You ever stop to think why?" The Scottish brogue permeated the room and both men looked around to the kindly Scot, "How are you feeling?"

Sheppard shifted in the bed, "Stomach cramps again," he said as he felt the heat fire up on his body again. Beckett took out his thermometer and popped it into his ear, "Rodney bothering you?"

"Hey!" said Mckay.

"No," said Sheppard, "I need someone to distract me and McKay's pretty annoying so…" he shifted in the bed as his stomach clenched, "Ow,"

"Your temperature's up again," said Beckett with a shake of his head, "I'll give you some fluids so you don't get dehydrated."

"Great, good," said Sheppard as he stared off at some point in the room.

"Only a few more days now. You're lucky you weren't taking enough pills for this to last weeks."

Sheppard sighed, "I'm considerate that way," he said as he was hit by a sudden flush of pain and intense nausea. He sat forwards and put his hand over his mouth.

Beckett rubbed his back, "Breathe."

"I'm breathing," said Sheppard as Mckay stood up.

"Where are you going?" asked Beckett.

"If he's going to…..look the soup looks like…." He put a hand up to his own mouth, "I'll be back later."

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He'd done this to himself, he knew that.

He was responsible, just like for everything here in Atlantis. In his feverish dreams Sumner, Everett and Ford's images swam in front of his eyes and mocked him.

Told him he had made bad decisions, told him he was responsible for Davey's death. Told him he had been responsible for Ford and let him down.

Davey was young and a member of his team and so had been Ford. They both paralleled each other remarkably and he had let both of them down in one way or another.

He rolled over in the bed and reached his hands out to where he thought his bed side table was. The percocet was there and where as before his fingers had curled around a plastic bottle this time they curled around something warm and fleshy. A hand.

"Its okay John," A hand swept through his hair and the voice was strangely familiar, "You're okay."

"Mum?" he said and opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes and to try and assemble some kind of order in his brain.

It was dark but some light illuminated dark eyes and hair, "Elizabeth," he said moving his face towards her hand and gripping it tightly.

"You were having a nightmare," she said as she noticed his pale face and shaking hands on hers. She attempted to still them, but she found the tremors escape to her own fingers like minute vibrations.

"Cold," he said and she reached up and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"You're fever is spiking," she said and looked towards Beckett's door where he had only just gone to get some sleep.

"Pain," he said still clasping her hand in his.

Elizabeth almost wished she could get him something to stop the pain, but knew this was the only way for Sheppard to heal. She knew what they had seen on that chair screen must have been traumatic for him but everything which followed seemed like an even worse chain of events.

He had been reluctant to come with them to Atlantis and she wondered if this was one of the reasons, "You're okay," she said shushing him and still moving her hands through his hair.

Moaning and legs writhing under the covers as he sweated out his fever, he looked so vulnerable and young. He reminded her of her younger nephew. She had gotten him back to sleep in the same manner, by talking to him soothingly and running her fingers through his hair. She thought it was working on Sheppard until his eyes snapped open and he leant over and started heaving.

"Beckett!" she called out as she continued to hold his hand.

Sheppard was choking and spitting bile onto the floor when Beckett ran into the infirmary from his office, rubbing at his eyes, "What's going on?"

She nodded down to where Sheppard was leaning over the side of the bed, gripping her hand for all its worth. Beckett ran to her side and helped Sheppard back onto the bed. His eyes were already closed and his fingers were loosening around hers. He was pale and sweaty from the exertion.

"It's okay," said Beckett tucking him back in.

Elizabeth watched the scene before her with an eerie detachment and it was only when Beckett finally asked if she was okay that she felt her shoulders sag and a sob escaped her.

Beckett put his arms around her and guided her into his office where he knew Sheppard would not be able to hear her.

"Here," he said handing her a tissue.

She took it and wiped at her eyes as she tried to control her emotions, "How did this happen Carson?"

"The second time is worse round. Percocet makes you feel a thousand times better, but the good news is they seem to be easier to get off, maybe it's the psychology of them being controlled or… I don't know." He paused, "Look, he's going through the worst of it right now and after that…he'll need support."

"My commanding Officer is a drug addict, "she said.

"No," said Beckett coming to kneel beside her, "Narcotic addiction and pain medication addiction is different.."

"He just looks so.." she rubbed at her eyes.

"We're all tired. But Sheppard's a fighter. I know he looks bad now but give him a few days."

"Beckett!" he heard the frantic cry from the infirmary and he got up, knocking the tissues to the floor as he sped passed Elizabeth.

"What is it?" asked Beckett,

Sheppard was clutching his side and leaning over the rail again, "It really fucking hurts," he said through clenched teeth. He dropped his head onto the cool railing and tried to breathe in short burst.

"I know," said Beckett as he tried to soothe the broken man.

"Cant you.." he looked up with pleading eyes and paled, "I need something to stop the pain…my side feels like its on fire."

"You know I can't do that," said Beckett helping Sheppard lie back.

Sheppard bought his hand up and shoved his hands away, "Well if you wont help then go ……away."

"You know the rules," said Beckett, "You've been here for three days and you're down to one pill. You have to go through the pain."

"You go through the pain," ground out Sheppard and he groaned, "I don't want you to see me like this," he said as he rolled away. He bought his hand up and smashed it down onto the side of the railing.

"If you don't stop I'll have to restrain you."

Sheppard stopped moving for a moment and Beckett thought the threat had worked but instead Sheppard sat bolt upright and tried to push him aside, "I need to get out of here."

"Lie down."

"What's going on?" Elizabeth walked out of the office and up to the two grappling men, "John?"

"I need to get out," he said feebly and stopped his fighting.

"You're going to lie down and close your eyes and that's an order," said Elizabeth walking over to him and pushing him back.

Sheppard's eyes connected with hers and he shook his head, "You can't order me."

"John," she said more softly now,

He looked at her momentarily and lay back down, moving against another spike of pain, "I'm hot," he said as he pushed off the covers they tried to put over him.

"I'm going to restrain you," said Beckett and Sheppard stiffened.

"No,"

"John," said Elizabeth.

Again his glassy eyes met hers and he nodded, "Okay."

"Right," said Beckett putting the restraints on loosely, "I know it hurts but tomorrow you'll feel better."

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Sheppard could feel the restraints being removed in the morning and he lay there, blinking up at the ceiling and feeling the same stab of pain in his abdomen which had caused so much trouble the night before. He still felt hot and sick, but the crawling under his skin had subsided to some extent. That at least was good news.

The smell of coffee assaulted his nostrils and he blinked, "Rodney, that you?"

Mckay face popped up in front of his, "Hey."

Sheppard tried to push him away, "Go."

"Morning, grumpy," he said as he sat back down.

"Morning," he heard the Scot say and he raised his head to look at the man. Beckett looked like he hadn't slept in years.

"How are you doing? You thought anymore about what I said?"

"About what?" asked Sheppard sitting up and swaying. Everything was spinning and he figured it was from dehydration from the amount of fluid he had lost last night.

"Never mind," said Beckett.

"I feel like crap," said Sheppard rubbing his wrists, "But thanks for taking the restraints off. I guess I had a bad night."

"You don't remember?" asked Beckett.

Sheppard shook his head, "Bits and pieces. Its all a bit blurry."

"You feel up to eating?" asked Mckay.

"Always with the food," said Sheppard sinking back down into bed, "No, I just want to lie here and feel ill in silence."

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"He's gone. What do you mean he's gone?" Mckay said when he returned from the bathroom.

The nurse in front of him was raising her hands and trying to speak to him in a language he didn't understand, "Where did….Sheppard…" he tried to mime Sheppard's hair, "Go." He said pointing his finger.

She raised her hands again.

"Why don't you speak English!"

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When Sheppard had watched Mckay go off to undoubtedly get more food he took his chance and headed for the door. He still felt sick and shaky and his fever was not yet at a reasonable level but he had to get out of that damn room. He had to get out.

He'd stopped by his room and grabbed his handgun and somehow ended up in the men's communal washroom. He walked over to the shower area and sat down with the weapon.

TBC

Last chapter tomorrow and this ISN'T a death fic, so please all take a calming breath.