Sheppard strolled into the jumper bay, praying that there would be someone to talk to or something to do. He was going stir crazy. He felt wired most of the time, in spite of the fact that he wasn't sleeping well. So far, he'd been successful in hiding it from Beckett, but he knew it was just a matter of time before it caught up to him. He needed some real activity to tire him out.
The hatch to one of the jumpers was open and he heard voices coming from inside. Good—something to do. He walked up the ramp to the back of the jumper. The door to the compartment under the control panel had been lifted up about two feet and a pair of legs emerged from the opening. Someone else was sitting in the pilot's seat, bent over and peering into the darkness.
"What do you see?" asked the man in the chair. Sheppard recognized the voice as that of Lt. Bond.
"This is really weird, nothing like any engine I've ever seen. You are keeping watch, right?" came the muffled voice of Major Lorne.
"Oh, yeah," said Bond as he turned around. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened at the sight of Sheppard standing there watching them.
"Colonel Sheppard," said Bond loudly as he stood up.
"No, you're not watching for the Colonel," responded Lorne. "He's on sick leave so we shouldn't have to worry about him. You're supposed to be watching for Dr. Harrison."
Lorne backed out of the small opening, smacking his head on the edge when he failed to duck far enough. "Ow! Dang it! We're not . . ." Lorne's eyes fell on Sheppard, leaned against the bulkhead, his arms crossed and a bemused expression on his face.
"Colonel Sheppard?"
Sheppard nodded. "Major Lorne. Lt. Bond. Mind telling me what you're up to?"
The two men looked at one another, each willing the other to explain. Lorne finally took the lead. "Well, Colonel, I sort of work on cars as a hobby. Or, at least I did when I was back on earth. Anyway, I was just wondering what was under the hood, so to speak."
Sheppard looked at the gaping hole under the control panel door. "This looks like a lot of trouble to look under the hood."
Lorne glanced at the opening and then back to Sheppard. "Oh, no sir. That wasn't us. Dr. Harrison was down here making some adjustments and they called him away to the lab. We were restocking the jumper and happened to notice the opening, and . . ." Lorne gestured forward with his hand.
One side of Sheppard's mouth curled into a lopsided grin. "You just thought you'd have a look."
Lorne shrugged his shoulders. "Well, yes sir. It's pretty cool, sir. You should take a look."
Sheppard had no intention of crawling around on the floor, but he had to admit, his interest was piqued. "So, what does it look like?"
"Hard to describe, sir. You just have to see it."
Sheppard brought his right hand up, resting his thumb under his chin and rubbing his lower lip with his index finger. "You know, we pulled a lot of the maintenance on our helicopters in Afghanistan. It might be kind of interesting to see how these babies compare." He turned and looked toward the back of the jumper. "How long has Harrison been gone?"
"About twenty minutes, sir," responded Bond. "But he had to go all the way back to the lab and fix whatever problem they had. We should still have at least fifteen or twenty minutes."
Sheppard moved forward and got down on his hands and knees, peering into the dark opening. "Maybe just a quick peek." He reached around and took the flashlight that Lorne had extended. "And remember, I was never here." He stretched out on his belly and crawled forward until the upper half of his torso was under the console.
"Hey, guys, this is really cool."
Lorne and Bond grinned at each other, relieved to know they weren't in trouble. Bond went to sit back down, but he stumbled over Sheppard's outstretched legs and fell into the seat, his own legs flying up and his foot connecting with the clip that was holding the door suspended in place. The heavy panel came crashing down, striking Sheppard across the shoulder blades. His muffled cry jolted the two men into action.
"Colonel! Lt., help me get this off him!" Scrambling to the large metal door, Lorne and Bond each grabbed one side lifted it off the Colonel, then secured it back in the open position. As they knelt on either side of Sheppard, they heard a low moan come from under the console.
"Colonel, you okay?" asked Lorne.
Sheppard groaned and mumbled as his feet searched for purchase on the jumper floor.
"Colonel, do you need help getting out?" Lorne looked up at Bond as Sheppard mumbled a response. "Did you hear him?"
Bond just shook his head as Lorne considered the situation. Sheppard's entire upper body was under the console, and the only way Lorne could see to help the man out was to grab him by the legs and pull. If he'd damaged his back, that could make things worse.
Both men were relieved when Sheppard finally began backing out of the hole. When he was almost out, they grabbed him by the upper arms and help him the rest of the way, then turned him so he could sit.
"Oh, crap." Sheppard squeezed his eyes closed. "How much does that door weigh, anyway?" He tried shifting his shoulders in various directions to alleviate the pain, grimacing as each one failed.
Lorne looked petrified. "Sir, we should get you to the infirmary."
Sheppard continued to search for a comfortable position. "It's just bruised, Major. I'm okay."
Lt. Bond was also starting to look concerned. Despite Sheppard's protests that he was fine, the young pilot thought he looked a little pale. "Sir, I think Major Lorne is right. I think you should go get checked out."
"I just got out of there a few days ago. I wasn't planning a return trip quite so soon. Help me up."
Each man grabbed one of Sheppard's arms and pulled him to his feet. His legs gave way and began to fold underneath him as soon as he put weight on them. Lorne and Bond held him up.
"Whoa, sir," Lorne said.
Sheppard got his balance and steadied himself against his men. "I'm good."
"Sir, I really need to insist that you let us help you to the infirmary," said Lorne.
Sheppard slumped slightly to one side. His back was hurting to the point that he could barely move his arms, and it wasn't showing any signs of getting better. He hated to admit it, but if he didn't want to be up all night in agony, he would probably need some help from Beckett. "Okay. Okay."
The look of relief on Lorne's face was almost enough to make the chewing-out he was going to get from Beckett worth it. He pulled his arms from the grip of the two soldiers and immediately regretted it, groaning and wincing at the stabbing pain it caused. "I can walk," he grouched, but he didn't object when they followed him to the infirmary. It was easier just to let them come.
Sheppard had never realized before how much you use your shoulders and back when you walk. By the time he had reached the infirmary, he was walking slowly and stiffly, desperately trying not to jar his aching shoulder blades. Beckett noticed them as soon as they crossed the threshold and headed their direction with a scowl on his face. Sometimes Sheppard thought the doctor was psychic and just hadn't told anyone.
"Colonel, would you be walking like that for a reason?"
Oh, he was in so much trouble. "Funny thing, Doc. I had a bit of a mishap."
"Funny, is it. You don't seem to be laughin', Colonel. What have you done this time?"
"Just a bruise. I may need a little Tylenol . . . or something."
Beckett snorted. "A little Tylenol. Can you make it to a bed?"
"I can make it." Sheppard eased himself across the room and onto an exam bed.
Beckett looked over at Lorne and Bond. "So, what happened? You better tell me, because I doubt he will."
"Uh, we were just looking under the hood of a jumper, and the Colonel came along and decided he'd take a look too. Anyway," continued Lorne, "the door panel fell and hit him across the back. It's pretty heavy, so we thought maybe he should come see you."
Beckett raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware jumpers had a hood."
"Metaphorically speaking," said Lorne.
Beckett crossed his arms and turned to face Sheppard. "You do remember the part about you not being on active duty, right?"
"It was just a quick peek at the engine. I didn't think anything could happen." He winced as he inadvertently leaned too far to one side.
Beckett looked back at Lorne and Bond. "Thank you lads for deliverin' the Colonel. I can take it from here."
Lorne and Bond nodded. "Sorry, sir. Hope you're okay," called Lorne as they turned and left.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," murmured Sheppard. He looked up to see Beckett staring at him. "Okay, let's get the lecture over with. Then I think maybe I need to lay down a minute." The pain across his back now seemed to be radiating into his chest, and sitting upright was making it worse.
"Let's just have quick look." Beckett raised Sheppard's shirt and looked at his back. "You're starting to bruise already."
"I think I could have told you that. Can I get some Tylenol now so I can get back to my room and lay down?"
"Not yet. Let's get your shirt off and let me have a closer look. I need to make sure you don't have any serious damage and check the older wounds on your back. Then I'll get you something for the pain."
Beckett helped Sheppard get his shirt off, a process that left the Colonel panting and pale, and then helped the injured man ease onto his stomach. When he began to probe the bruised area, Sheppard flinched.
"Carson?" Beckett looked up to see Elizabeth walking in. "I just saw Major Lorne in the hall and he said they brought John in."
Sheppard raised one hand up at the wrist. "Present," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow in which his face was partially buried.
Elizabeth smiled until she reached Sheppard's bed, where she saw a dark bruise across his upper back. What took her breath away, though, was the heavy scarring from the injuries inflicted by the Genii, still fresh and raw. She gasped before she had a chance to steady herself and silently prayed John hadn't heard. Then she turned her eyes to Beckett, her expression asking if it had been as bad as it looked. He just nodded.
Recovering her composure, Elizabeth asked, "So, is he okay?"
"Looks like some deep bruising. I think we'll put some ice on it for a bit, try to alleviate some of the swelling and soreness. He should be fine."
"Good. I'm not exactly sure what happened; Major Lorne and Lt. Bond were a bit vague, but you need to be more careful, John."
"More careful. Got it," came the muffled response.
Elizabeth smiled at Beckett. "Let me know if anything changes."
"Aye." Beckett turned back to Sheppard. "Stay put, Colonel. I'll be right back."
"I'll be here." In truth, Sheppard wasn't sure he could move if he wanted to.
Beckett returned a few minutes later. "Okay, Colonel, let me help you up." Beckett gave Sheppard a hand as he rolled onto his side, swung his legs off the bed, and sat up.
"Change into these scrub bottoms," Beckett said as he placed a set of scrubs on the bed. "Then we're going to take a quick X-ray just to be on the safe side, get you some pain medication, and ice your back for a bit."
Sheppard stared at the scrubs. "Why do I need scrubs for that?"
"Because you're going to be my guest for the night."
Sheppard frowned. "It's just a bruise, Doc. You even said so yourself."
"You're not stayin' because of the bruise. You're stayin' because you look like you haven't slept in a week. I'm willin' to bet that when we take your blood pressure, it'll be high."
Sheppard sighed and looked at the floor. "I can go to sleep, Doc. I just can't seem to stay asleep for very long. And then I get to feeling anxious and can't stay in bed."
"Why didn't you come talk to me, son? That's what I'm here for."
"I don't know. I guess I thought you'd either send me to Heightmeyer more or pump me full of drugs."
"You're not very trusting, are you?"
Sheppard was relieved that Beckett's tone was one of concern and not offense. "It's not a lack of trust, Doc, and it's nothing personal. I've just . . . I've had to rely on myself for so long that it's hard to lean on anyone else."
Beckett patted Sheppard's leg. "Well, we'll have to work on that."
----------------
Kolya's men had come to take him back outside for more fun. He pulled back hard and fast, ramming his back into something that caused a stabbing pain. He breathed in sharply, groaning as it persisted.
"Colonel?" Kolya was in his face, grinning like he'd won the lottery.
Sheppard mustered all his energy and struck out at soldier. "Get away from me! I'll kill you!"
The guards grabbed his arms and pinned them to his sides while Kolya stood back and laughed. "You'll never be rid of me, Sheppard. Never."
Sheppard struggled harder against the men holding him, desperately trying to break away so he could kill Kolya and be free.
"Colonel Sheppard!"
Sheppard froze; the voice coming out of Kolya's mouth wasn't right.
"Colonel, can you hear me? I need you listen to my voice. You're in Atlantis, John, and I need you to calm down. We're just trying to help you."
Kolya's face slowly dissolved away into Nick Strauhan, sporting a bloody nose. Two nurses and a marine were holding him down instead of Genii guards. Everyone was panting heavily, including himself.
"Doc?"
Nick nodded. "Colonel, are you with us?"
"Yeah. I . . . I'm sorry."
Nick nodded at the three people helping him. "Okay, let him go. He's okay now."
They released Sheppard and the marine excused himself, returning to guard duty in the hall. Amy went to get something for Nick's bloody nose and Kelly helped Sheppard shift around so that he wasn't pinned up against the railing.
"Are you okay, Colonel? You slammed your back against the railing pretty hard. Maybe I should take a look."
"I'm good. I guess I did that," he said, nodding toward Nick's face.
"It's okay. I think it's stopped bleeding already." Amy returned and handed Nick a damp cloth. He rubbed the blood from his face and folded the cloth over, placing it against his nose for a moment before pulling it away and looking at it. "Yeah, see? Almost stopped. I've had a lot worse than this, believe me."
Sheppard's concerned expression didn't change. "I was having a nightmare . . ."
Nick dismissed Amy and Kelly with a nod and sat down in the chair beside Sheppard's bed. "I think I set you off when I touched you. I thought I was going to do a quick check to make sure you were okay without waking you. I guess I failed miserably at that little chore."
Sheppard sighed. "Not your fault, Doc."
They sat in silence for a moment while Nick contemplated how to proceed. "Has this happened before? Is this why you can't sleep?"
"It's not usually this bad. I've been having the nightmares, but I haven't attacked anyone else like that. Of course, there's no one in my quarters to attack." Sheppard's frown deepened as he gazed at Nick. "I'm losing it, aren't I?"
Nick shook his head. "I don't think you're losing it, I think you aren't giving yourself time to heal. You have this idea that you should just pop up ready to go a week or two after something happens and that just isn't possible sometimes. This is different than your standard war injury. Somehow, I doubt anything in your training prepared you for being systematically tortured by a bunch of civilians. This was a personal attack and it's not the same thing as getting shot in a battle with the enemy. You aren't superman and you're running yourself into the ground trying to be. Slow down and give yourself time. And while you're at it, let us help now and then."
Sheppard started to bring his hand up to rub his face, but grimaced and let it drop to his side. He leaned his head back into the pillow. "That's easier said than done, Doc. I've got a lifetime of depending on no one but me to overcome before I can do that."
Nick smiled. "Then I guess you'd better get started."
-------------------
Nick walked up to stand beside Kelly, who was sitting at the nurse's station updating charts. "Hey."
She glanced up. "Hey back at you."
"Uh, would you like to . . . you know, uh . . . get something to eat when we're done here?"
"Sure," she chirped. "I'm usually starved when we go off duty."
"I meant . . . like a date."
Kelly's mouth opened a bit and Nick tensed, expecting her to take back her acceptance.
"Well if it's a date, then maybe I should get cleaned up a bit first."
Nick sighed with relief. "No, that's okay. I just thought we could get something to eat and then go for a walk, maybe? It's kind of hard to take someone to a restaurant or the movies in Atlantis."
Kelly smiled. "I like walks."
Nick grinned. "Maybe sometime we could"
"Doc."
Nick paused and looked up. "Was that the Colonel?"
Kelly was already standing up. "Yes, I think it was."
They arrived at Sheppard's bed to find the Colonel pale and sweaty, his legs shifting restlessly beneath the covers.
"Colonel, what's wrong?" asked Nick, moving to the side of the bed.
"Feel sick."
Kelly grabbed a basin and Nick helped Sheppard sit up just as he vomited. When he was finished, Nick eased him back onto the bed and Kelly reappeared with a damp rag to wipe his face.
Pressing his hand to Sheppard's forehead, Nick said, "You've got a fever, Colonel. Looks like you've picked up some kind of bug."
Sheppard winced. "Please don't say bug."
-----------------------------
Beckett walked beside Nick and looked down at Sheppard. The Colonel was curled up on his side, asleep, the pillow rolled up under his head and one arm.
"Kelly said the Colonel was sick."
Nick nodded as he finished writing in the chart. "He started vomiting at 0400 and he's running a temp around 102. Muscle aches, nausea, headache. I haven't started an IV yet, but he can't even keep water down right now, so unless that improves it's probably inevitable. I don't know what he's picked up, but it hit hard and fast."
Beckett looked dismayed. "He hasn't been anywhere to pick anything up. Has anyone else shown up sick?"
"Nary a soul. You think we should have quarantined him?"
"No. We might want to limit contact with him though. It sounds like the flu."
Sheppard stirred and mumbled in his sleep.
"Carson, did Kelly tell you what else happened last night?"
Beckett sighed. "Yes, she filled me in. I'll pass it on to Kate, although I doubt she'll be surprised. She's afraid she's hit a wall on his progress with her. And I'm afraid the wall she spoke of is leading to some of his physical problems."
"What are we going to do?"
Beckett shrugged. "The only thing we can do right now is treat his symptoms and hope he opens up to someone before long. The way things are goin', I hope it's sooner rather than later."
TBC