You guys are blowing me away with all the reviews! Special thanks go out to Rogue1503 and togitnj for their encouragement and ideas and some big time beta activities. I'm sorry this chapter took a little longer to post. Trying to improve my writing means slower writing for me because I have to think a lot more (very painful).

The Day of Reckoning – Chapter 5

"Okay, he's out," said Beckett. He stood back and let go of Sheppard, as did the three nurses who had been helping him. How a man in his condition had put up that much of a fight was beyond the doctor—he must have been completely terrified. In his struggles, Sheppard had pulled out just about everything. The bed was a rumpled mess of blood and leaking fluids, the IV was leaking on the floor, and many of Sheppard's bandages had come off or soaked through. It was going to take a while to put everything right.

"What was that? What happened to him?" asked McKay.

Beckett looked up to see Rodney standing with his mouth open and his eyes wide. Reaching out to put his hand on McKay's shoulder, he said, "It's okay, Rodney. He's been through a lot and it's goin' to take a while to get him back. You have to remember he was tortured for near four days. Not only is he in a lot of pain, but he's still runnin' a fever, he's heavily medicated, and I wouldn't be surprised if they messed with his head. We just have to be patient."

"Is . . . is there anything I can do?"

"Yes. You can leave so we can get him cleaned up and settled in a fresh bed. Go get somethin' to eat and come back in a few hours. At this point, it's probably good to have someone here with him. As I decrease his pain meds, he'll wake more often and be a little more lucid; it would be good for him to see a familiar face."

"Okay. I'll . . . I'll come back in a . . . in a while." Beckett watched as McKay turned and shuffled part way to the door and then stopped. He came back, picked up his laptop, and left. Beckett turned back to an unconscious Sheppard, sprawled haphazardly across the bed on his stomach, and sighed loudly.

"All right, let's get goin'. We've got a lot of work to do."

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McKay sat watching Sheppard sleep. Ever since he had returned to a cleaned-up and settled Sheppard, he hadn't been able to stop watching him. He had tried to work on his laptop but eventually gave up. He couldn't concentrate. Sheppard stirred periodically, groaning and mumbling in his sleep. His face seemed . . . tense. Sheppard had been restless for several hours now and McKay thought he'd be waking up soon, but he was afraid of what would happen then. What if he flipped out again and hurt himself? He hadn't even seemed to know who McKay was last time. McKay shivered at the memory of Sheppard crouched in the corner, terrified, rocking and pleading not to hurt him anymore. That was not the Sheppard he knew. That was not the Sheppard he thought couldn't be broken. The man in the infirmary this morning was . . . broken.

"McKay?" He was so distracted that he had almost hadn't heard the whispered voice.

"Colonel . . . you know who I am?" McKay was afraid to move closer until he was sure the Colonel was in his right mind.

Sheppard scowled at him. "I don't have amnesia, McKay. Yes, I know who you are."

"Oh . . . okay. It's just that this morning . . . Never mind."

Sheppard frowned. "This morning what?"

"Nothing. You woke up for a few minutes, but you were a little disoriented and . . . you didn't seem to know who I was."

Sheppard sighed and closed his eyes a minute. "I don't remember. Just . . . some weird dreams. I thought I was here, but then I was back with Kolya. But now I'm here . . . at least I think I'm here . . ." Sheppard trailed off and reached up to rub his face.

"You're really here. In Atlantis. Colonel, I'm sorry. We should never have let Kolya take you."

"There was nothing you could do, McKay. Just drop it. I don't want to talk about it."

McKay reached out and touched Sheppard's arm, meaning to reassure him, but Sheppard flinched back and jerked his eyes open. McKay quickly pulled his hand back. "Sorry."

Sheppard relaxed. "It's okay. Just . . . jumpy I guess." They were silent for a few moments. "How long have I been back?"

"Five days. Colonel? Wh . . . what did they do to you?"

Sheppard's expression darkened. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it. I'm tired, McKay."

"Look . . . John, you'll have to talk about it eventually."

Sheppard closed his eyes. "Tired, McKay. Really tired."

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Elizabeth looked up from the report in her lap to watch John. He stirred beneath the blanket, moaning softly as his brow furrowed with the pain the movement caused. She had been sitting beside his bed for close to an hour, watching him struggle with sleep.

Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She couldn't tell if he was troubled or in pain or both. "What's going on in that head of yours to make you so restless?" she whispered.

John suddenly gasped and snapped his eyes open, lifting his head off the pillow a couple of inches before dropping back down. Elizabeth tossed the reports on the floor and moved closer to the bed.

"John? Are you okay?" His eyes were open but vacant, and he gave no indication that he had heard her. When she reached out and touched his forearm, he twisted away from her with a grunt, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes.

Elizabeth flinched at the reaction and her thoughtlessness—Rodney had told her of a similar reaction when he'd visited two days before—and pulled her hand back. "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

John relaxed a little against the pillows and opened his eyes. "It's okay."

He still looked pale to her, the whiteness magnified by the colorful array of healing bruises that marred his face and arms. "Are you in pain? I can get Carson," she offered.

"No," he said. His breath seemed to come easier. "I'm okay. What are you doing here?"

"I just came by to check on you. You were asleep, so I thought I'd wait a little while and see if you woke up. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay."

Elizabeth shifted her weight, uncomfortable with the lull in the conversation. "I'm here if you need to talk. It might help."

"No. I'm good."

"John, I think you need to talk to someone about this. If not now, then soon. What they did to you was . . ."

"No. I'm okay. I don't need to talk about it. I don't wantto talk about it."

"Okay. Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me. And I'm sure if you'd rather talk to Carson or Rodney, they would be happy to help."

"I thought I heard voices back here," said Beckett as he walked up to stand beside Sheppard's bed. "Good to see you awake again, Colonel. How's the pain?"

"It's not bad," Sheppard sighed.

"It's about time for another dose of pain medication, but if you're doin' okay without it, I'll wait. The sooner we can get you off it, the better." Beckett watched Sheppard's response carefully.

"I'm okay for now," he replied. Shifting his attention, he said, "Elizabeth, I'm tired. If you don't mind . . ."

"Oh, of course. I need to get back to work anyway. Get some rest John, and I'll stop by later." She waited for some acknowledgement from John, but he just pulled the blanket up farther on his chest and closed his eyes. Beckett didn't miss the look of disappointment that crossed her face.

"Come on, lass. I'll walk you out." He placed a gentle hand on her back and guided her away from Sheppard's bed.

"Is he always so talkative or is it just me?" asked Elizabeth.

Carson sighed. "He doesn't say much lately. The wee bit he's awake, he just answers questions and lays there. I suspect he's having some nightmares. He won't admit it or talk to me about it, but he's restless when he sleeps, even with the pain meds. He's startled awake several times looking mighty stressed, and he's called out in his sleep once or twice."

They stopped walking as they reached the door to the infirmary. "Maybe we just need to give him more time."

Beckett nodded. "Aye, you could be right."

"I really do have to get back to work. Take good care of him, Carson."

"I always do, lass. I always do."

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"He's asleep. Maybe we should come back later." Sheppard recognized Ronon's voice as he woke up.

"No. We have been here on many occasions and he has been asleep each time. This time we will wait. I wish to talk to Colonel Sheppard." It was Teyla. If Teyla said they would wait, then they would be there until he opened his eyes no matter how long it took. No point in continuing to pretend. He opened his eyes.

"Colonel Sheppard? I am glad to see you awake. We wish to speak with you and see how you are doing." Teyla smiled down at him.

"I'm fine," Sheppard said. "Are all of you okay?"

"Yes, we are all unharmed and happy to have you back in Atlantis. We were all very worried, as I'm sure you have been told. Dr. McKay was particularly fearful of what Kolya would do."

Sheppard's eyebrows raised—the first sign of emotion they had seen. "McKay?"

"Yeah," said Ronon. "You need to hurry and get back on your feet. McKay's been whining since we went to that planet. If you don't get out of here soon, I may be forced to kill him."

"Ronon!" snapped Teyla. "Dr. McKay was merely worried about the Colonel. I'm sure now that he is recovering, Dr. McKay will calm down."

Sheppard turned his head to look straight up at the ceiling. Teyla and Ronon exchanged a glance. "Colonel, are you in pain? Would you like for me to get Dr. Beckett?"

Sheppard winced, but continued to stare at the ceiling. "No, I'm fine. Just tired."

"Then perhaps we should leave and let you rest. Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm good." Sheppard turned back to face them. "I'm glad you made it back safely."

Teyla smiled warmly at him. "And we are glad to have you back. We will return when you are stronger. Please have Dr. Beckett call us if you need anything."

Sheppard once again focused his attention on the ceiling. After a moment of silence, the two worried friends slipped quietly away.

When Sheppard was certain that his visitors were gone, he curled onto his left side, lifting his weight from his aching back and easing the strain on his incision site. He was tempted to call Beckett for relief, but he didn't—the sluggish drug haze was more frightening than the pain and he wanted to be clear headed, if only for a few minutes. He could hold out until Beckett came to check on him.

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"Colonel, we need to talk." Beckett sat in the chair beside Sheppard's bed.

"What about?"

"Your condition and treatment. We're going to get you out of bed in a bit and try to get you moving. It's past time. And I'm going to have Kate come talk to you."

"No," snapped Sheppard. "I won't talk to her."

Beckett sighed. "Colonel, you've obviously suffered not just a physical trauma but a mental one, as well. You're attitude is slowin' your physical recovery and it's time to get help. You don't have to do this alone; there are people here who can help you. You just have to let them."

Sheppard closed his eyes. He really didn't want to relive any of it, and certainly not to a virtual stranger.

"Colonel, I'm not asking. You're going to have to talk to her to get cleared for duty. You might as well start now. I'll have her come by right after lunch."

Sheppard could tell by the look on Beckett's face that he wasn't getting out of it. "Fine, whatever."

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Sheppard inhaled sharply and held his breath as Dr. Beckett and Marcy hauled him to his feet. Sore muscles, stretching stitches, and still-healing bruises all screamed at him from every corner. Between the pain and the dizziness, he found himself sinking to the floor. Fortunately, the two medical personnel assisting him were ready and shouldered his weight until he regained his balance.

Marcy, her arm around his waist, reached back and held his hospital gown closed. Sheppard knew Beckett had been waiting for him to ask for scrubs. He would have preferred to be wearing scrubs at this moment, but he just hadn't wanted them enough to fight for them. That worried him a little, but not enough to do anything about it.

"Let's try a step, Colonel," urged Beckett. "We've got ya'."

Sheppard watched the floor as he pushed one foot forward, sliding it along the cool, smooth surface a few inches, leaning heavily on the pair holding him up.

"That's good. Now the other foot."

They continued slowly, making it once around the infirmary before helping Sheppard back in bed.

As they helped settle Sheppard, Beckett noticed the Colonel's trembling legs and sweaty face. Sheppard was hurting. "Okay, Colonel. I'll be back in a few minutes with something for the pain. After you've had a chance to rest, maybe we can discuss getting you a shower and some scrubs." Beckett paused. "Unless you'd rather stay in the gown."

Sheppard stopped picking at the corner of the blanket and looked up at Beckett. "I'd like the shower and scrubs."

"Good. I thought you might. I'll be back in a minute."

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Kate Heightmeyer showed up after lunch, as promised. Sheppard was propped up in bed, his hair still damp from the shower. He was thankful for the scrubs, but he was exhausted from the efforts of the day, which left him feeling at a distinct disadvantage.

"Good afternoon, Colonel. I'm glad you agreed to see me," Kate said as she adjusted the chair and sat down. She had a folder and a pen that she arranged on her lap so that she could glance through the folder as they talked. "Why don't you tell me what happened."

Sheppard offered her an empty look. "The mission to TLX 557 was a trap. Kolya and his men were waiting for us. He let the others go and I went with him."

"I'm sure there was more to it than that. Can you be more specific about what happened?"

Sheppard scowled at her. "They had guns and there were more of them than of us. There was nothing else to do but go along with what Kolya wanted."

"And what was that?"

"Me. Kolya wanted me."

"What did he want with you?"

"Revenge. 'Retribution.'"

"Retribution for what?"

Sheppard eyed her, his brow furrowing and his lips pressing into a hard line. "What kind of game are you playing? You know for what."

Kate ignored the look. "I want you to tell me what you think Kolya thought you owed him for."

Sheppard's hard look melted and he turned his eyes down to the bed, where his fingers were plucking at the sheet. "The death of his men. He said I owed the Genii retribution for the death of almost seventy Genii soldiers."

"So, what do you think?"

"What do I think about what?" he asked softly, his eyes now focused on a spot on the far wall.

"Do you think you owed the Genii people anything for killing those men?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"Colonel, I care what you think."

Sheppard closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the pillow. What had started as a mild headache had developed into a full-blown pain in the neck and head. He could see the shield go up on the stargate and hear the impacts as the soldiers were splattered against it. He could hear the Genii in the gate room yelling at him, screaming about getting the shield down. Then they were shooting at him as he ran and returned fire, buying some much-needed time. He hadn't really thought about the fact that he was killing; he was just keeping the Genii out of Atlantis.

"Colonel?" Kate stood and walked closer to Sheppard. "John, are you okay?" She watched his even breathing for a moment. He was asleep.

"It must be my sparkling personality," she muttered to herself.

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"You've made a lot of progress the last few days," observed Nick as he walked down the hall with Sheppard. When Sheppard didn't reply, Nick continued, trying to draw the man into conversation. "I guess you were glad when Carson expanded your walks to the hall. At least you get to get out of the infirmary a few minutes a day. You've got to be getting tired of that place."

Sheppard still didn't respond, so Nick tried a different tactic. "How's the physical therapy for the shoulder coming along?"

"It's okay."

"Still pretty sore, I guess."

"Yeah."

"How are the headaches? Are they getting any better?"

"Maybe. It's hard to tell."

"Colonel . . . if you need someone to talk to, just let me know."

"Carson is letting me talk to Dr. Heightmeyer. I think one is enough."

Nick cleared his throat. "Uh, Colonel, you may be talking to Dr. Heightmeyer, but the word on the street is that you aren't really saying much. I thought you might want a heads up that she's getting pretty frustrated."

Sheppard almost smiled. "She's a shrink. She can handle it."

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Sheppard knew he was in for it when he saw Beckett, Kate, and Elizabeth descending on him. Still, it didn't interrupt his study of the wall opposite his bed.

"Colonel, we'd like to talk to you," said Elizabeth.

"Talk. It's your dime."

Elizabeth sighed at the uncharacteristic lack of expression on Sheppard's face. "John, Dr. Beckett and Dr. Heightmeyer are concerned about you. They feel that you aren't cooperating fully with them and that that's hindering your recovery."

Sheppard started to cross his arms, but as he touched his still tender chest and stomach, he thought better of it. "Exactly what is it you want from me?"

Elizabeth looked at Kate, passing the baton to her. "Colonel . . . you refuse to talk about anything that happened while you were held captive. I think something happened there that's key to helping you get over this, but we can't help if you won't talk to us."

"Fine!" Sheppard snapped. "You're all so keen on knowing what happened, I'll tell you. Hope you have a strong stomach."

Sheppard offered them every graphic detail what had happened during the four days he was under Kolya's control. Beckett wasn't sure what was more horrifying—the story of what Sheppard had endured or the fact that he sounded so blank and cold when he told it, almost as if had happened to someone else. When Sheppard finished, he sat quietly and stared at the shocked trio.

"I hope that satisfies your morbid curiosity. Now if you don't mind, I'm tired and I have a headache." Sheppard pulled the blanket up to his neck and turned his back to them. Eventually they took the hint and left, and after a while, he dozed off.

He dreamed of the Genii and Kolya. He dreamed of the men who had been lost to their families when he raised the shield on the gate. He dreamed of telling Ford to put away the wraith stunner because they were shooting to kill. He dreamed of Kolya telling him he would put him out of his misery if he wanted to return. He awoke with a start, sitting up suddenly and bringing a shaking hand up to his sweaty forehead.

Sheppard got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom—he had been on his feet and walking unaided for several days now and suspected that Beckett was keeping him mainly to force the visits with Heightmeyer. He splashed cold water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror, tracing the fresh scar that tracked down the right side of his face. "Thanks Kolya," he whispered. "I should have killed you on Dagan." If only he had . . . He couldn't sleep; he just kept seeing the faces of the people he had hurt, kept hearing the names of those he had killed. He couldn't go back to the way he was, to a vague regret for lost lives. Lives that he knew nothing about. He knew about them now.

Kolya would always be a threat to Atlantis. As long as he was out there, he could try to take the city again. And Sheppard would always remember what the tyrant had done to Rodney and Elizabeth . . . how he'd almost lost her. Kolya needed to be eliminated. And though Sheppard knew he would likely never make it back off the Genii home world alive, it would be worth it.

He walked out of the bathroom and back to his bed, watching the nurses' station. No one was there. He kept walking, past his bed and out of the infirmary.

It was late, and the halls were dark and deserted. He made his way through them to his quarters, where he changed into a clean uniform. The simple action was made difficult and slow by pain and weakness, despite the therapy he'd begun. He'd need weapons.

His own personal gear had been lost to the Genii; he'd have to hit the armory. He left his quarters and made his way there. The guard seemed surprised to see him out of the infirmary, so Sheppard made up some excuse about being out of action so long that he couldn't rest until he had checked everything himself. The guard seemed to buy that and left him alone.

Sheppard helped himself to a new 9mm and holster, a vest, and a P90. He slipped out with the weapons and made his way to the gate room, where he watched from the edge of the room for several minutes. There were two techs on duty, but no one else. He took a deep breath and walked up to them, trying to act like he knew what he was doing.

"Hey, guys. I've got a quick slip in and out mission. I need you to dial the Genii home world." He stood tall and flashed them his best smile.

"Uh, Colonel Sheppard . . . sir . . . we thought you were still in the infirmary."

"Actually, Dr. Beckett finally released me. I need to hit the Genii home world to take care of a little problem, so if you would dial it up, I'd appreciate it." When the techs exchanged confused glances, Sheppard knew the ploy wasn't going to work. "Sir, we have to have clearance from Dr. Weir. Do you . . . have clearance from Dr. Weir?"

"Sure," lied Sheppard. "She'll be here any minute to confirm." He turned as if he were going to look for her and then wheeled around quickly, his gun drawn. "Don't move."

The two techs froze in place. Sheppard felt as horrified by his actions as the techs looked, but this was the only way. "Stand up." The two techs stood, never taking their eyes off him. "Take off your radios and lay them on the console." They followed instructions. "Okay, now move into the conference room."

Hands up, the two techs moved slowly to the conference room and stood as far from Sheppard as possible. From the doorway, Sheppard said, "I'm sorry guys. This is just something I have to do. Tell Elizabeth . . . tell her Kolya shouldn't be a problem any more. I'm going to take care of him. And tell my team . . . none of this is their fault and not to come after me."

"Colonel Sheppard, why don't you just tell her yourself when you get back?"

Sheppard just blinked at them. "I don't think I'll be coming back. This is a one-way trip. Just tell her I'm sorry about all the trouble and . . . and I hope this helps Atlantis." He backed out of the room and ran his hand over the lighted panel, shutting and locking the door.

Sheppard moved as quickly as he could to the DHD and punched in the address for the Genii home world. Walking stiffly down the steps to the gate room floor, he stood before the shimmering puddle, took one last look at Atlantis, and stepped toward the event horizon. He just hoped he could kill Kolya before the Genii killed him.

TBC