Chapter 5:

Spoilers: Suspicion, Trinity and Critical Mass, maybe others.

Beta: J.A.B. – but any remaining mistakes are my own.

A/N: Any resemblance to actual medical procedure is purely by accident.

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John wouldn't say he was depressed, but he was as restless and impatient as he could be with a hole in his side.

Lorne and his teammates had left the infirmary to do more investigating into the weapons from the rock and water planet and to do a little preliminary interviewing of the suspects.

Of course, Ronon was kept on the weapons side of the investigation. No one wanted to pull him off any more guards considering how many he had thrown around before Teyla brought him down.

Sheppard stared moodily at the doorway, wanting an update. Just knowing that someone he had picked to be a member of the Atlantis personnel who had then tried to kill him was definitely eating away at him.

He'd always been somewhat of a screw-up, but John had hoped he could do this one thing that Elizabeth had entrusted to him without messing it up.

Sheppard hissed in pain as his right hand automatically went to his right thigh, looking for his gun. Its reassuring weight was gone, replaced by white scrubs, so he balled his hand into a fist.

He wanted his gun, but Beckett had insisted that he wasn't well enough to have it.

He now had a roommate of sorts. The guard that Ronon had practically throttled in the cell room was a couple of beds down with his knee propped up and his neck turning red and purple.

That wasn't counting the four mean looking Marines that were at the door, glaring at anyone who passed by the infirmary.

'Too little, too late,' John mentally snorted to himself, not feeling any safer. 'Yeah, who needs a 9 mil.?' He stopped himself before he raised his hand as if he were in high school volunteering to go to art club instead of staying in biology to cut up some poor frog.

John sat up slowly in his bed, his left arm across his stomach to ease the pain and the right arm propping him up to study the damage from the grenade. The hastily swept up confetti and burned items teased him from the corner as he sullenly tried to will himself better so that he could participate in the upcoming formal interviews.

John wanted to be there, to look in their eyes as the members of his new teams explained what happened to them on the desolate planet. He wanted to see if he could tell if one of them was lying.

"Ah, still wallowing I see," remarked Rodney as he had some of his flying lab monkeys drag in some boxes and place them next to Sheppard's bed.

"I'm . . . not wallowing," croaked John.

Rodney snorted. "Sure, whatever. Anyway, I have a present for you." The scientist was practically bouncing on his toes.

John raised an eyebrow, one of the few things on his body that didn't hurt. He tried not to let Rodney see that his right arm was shaking like a leaf, as it grew weaker from trying to support his upper body. "Really?"

McKay snapped his fingers at his flying lab monkeys and then equipment started to appear and be attached to the infirmary bed.

"Yes, I feel responsible now that I've saved your ungrateful life—again—so I brought you something to test for me."

John moaned and briefly closed his eyes. "I've thanked you. Over and . . . over again."

"You know, in some societies I would now legally own you. Several times over, in fact. You're just so much chattel right now."

"McKay—"

Rodney turned away with his hand-held computer, taped a few commands, and then barked at his people.

Beckett popped up suddenly, making Sheppard jump, causing pain to throb through his body. He listed to the side and groaned. That caused his side and abdomen to tighten painfully.

"Colonel, I told you not to sit up. What am I going to do with you?"

Sheppard tried not to grab his injured side as the pain died down. He did have the decency to look ashamed of himself. "I sat up . . . and then couldn't get back down." He winced at the look Beckett shot at him. "Hey, don't look at me . . . talk to McKay. He says he owns me . . . so I'm not responsible for my actions right now."

"That's not what I said," grumbled McKay.

Beckett stepped forward and put a strong hand on Sheppard's back. "Okay, now I want you to slowly relax and let me do the work."

Sheppard nodded with his eyes screwed shut. He allowed his arms and body to relax and Beckett took his weight without complaint.

John was slowly lowered to the bed and he sighed in relief when his head hit the pillow.

"Now, that's better, isn't it? Don't get up again until I say you can," said Beckett in his best 'don't mess with me, I'm the doctor' tone of voice.

"Sure, Doc. I won't." And he wasn't lying; he wasn't going to try that again anytime soon. It hurt too damn bad.

McKay shook his head and then slapped a rectangular metal box next to Sheppard's left hand. "Now, touch it and think 'on.' Just pretend it's one of your space bimbos."

"What is . . . all of this?" Sheppard eyed the set up with trepidation.

"It's a portable H.U.D." The smugness was thick in Rodney's voice. "I managed to scrounge up some extra parts from the Jumpers you've managed to crash, and a few things from the Wraith Dart you stole . . . and maybe an extra Atlantis part here and there."

"Atlantis parts? Rodney—"

"Yes, yes, never mind that now. Think 'on' like a good little lab rat."

John closed his eyes and thought 'on' at the thing, his left hand caressing the metal box. He popped open one eye when he heard a feminine gasp to see a nurse through a green heads-up display that was hanging in mid air.

"Wow," murmured the nurse, her eyes going from the H.U.D. to McKay.

McKay bounced on the balls of his feet again. "Yes, genius here."

"Very impressive," replied the nurse with a smile as she ran a hand through the display, causing a faint ripple. "Do you know how to fix laptops?" she asked coyly.

Rodney seemed to swell up to the size of his ego. "Of course!"

Sheppard watched through the H.U.D. images as McKay tapped a few buttons on an open laptop, which was on a roll around tray table beside the nurse.

"See, you just need to do this . . . and this . . . there, that will fix it."

The nurse smiled again. "Thank you, Dr. McKay!" She grabbed the tray table and pushed it over to the young Marine with the propped up leg two beds down. "Hey, Karl, I got your laptop fixed! You want to play a game of Solitaire with me while I'm on break?"

The Marine with perfect teeth and perfect hair flashed the nurse a mega watt smile as he opened the game program.

McKay stopped bouncing, frowning at the couple.

John shifted painfully and motioned for McKay to come closer. As McKay bent close, John grinned. "If the women don't find you handsome . . . they should at least find you handy," he whispered weakly.

"Hey! I'll have you know—"

"Just kidding, Rodney." Sheppard tried not to snicker; his side would not be able to take the shaking. His hazel eyes went back to the H.U.D. "This is very cool. Very, very cool."

McKay was still glaring at him and at the young Marine playing a game with the nurse. "Good, because you're going to be testing it for me during the interviews."

Their attention was drawn from the H.U.D. when the four guards stiffened and moved out of the way of a still furious looking Major Lorne.

"Major . . . report."

Lorne nodded to his CO, put his crutches together, and hopped over to a chair. He flopped down with a grunt.

Beckett popped in again. "Major, I told you to take it easy on that leg. You don't want to get any complications from re-injuring it."

Lorne waved him away. "I'm fine, Doc. It just hurts from the long walk up. I'll sit here for a while. I promise."

Beckett pointed a finger at the Major and Lorne threw up his hands in surrender.

"I promise, Doc. Cross my heart."

"Just remember that," responded Carson as he turned to collect his nurse from the bedside of the young Marine.

After the doctor was gone, Lorne turned to Sheppard. "I've talked to the guards in the cell room. It seems that a few of the prisoners wanted playing cards and pillows, and then Dr. Mawyer wanted to go to the restroom. The guard took them out in two groups, and broke up the teams in case one of them decided to make a break for it."

McKay was frowning so hard, the left corner of his mouth was slanting. "If the guards were with the groups, then how did your new list of suspects get access to this area?"

Lorne heaved a sigh. "They forgot to take a female guard, so they couldn't monitor Mawyer. And the two men that did go got into a 'philosophical' discussion with Woodson and they completely lost track of the male prisoners for at least four or five minutes."

Sheppard's eyes hardened. "Oh, a 'philosophical' discussion. I know what that means—women or sex. I want those two back on the Daedalus and sent back to Earth."

"Colonel—"

"No . . . we can't afford to have Marines that don't take their jobs here seriously. We're in a war. You . . . understand me?"

"Yes, sir!" The Major looked at the floor. "They have been taken off duty and confined to quarters."

"Good. Now what . . . about the recovered weapons?"

"All accounted for and none were recently fired, sir."

Now Sheppard frowned. "None?"

"No, sir. I did find evidence in one of the guns of inadequate maintenance, but none of them were fired on the planet."

"I want you to contact the SGC and get every . . . scrap of paper they have on the new people."

"Yes, sir."

Sheppard turned his head to glare at the H.U.D. as he thought of what happened on P3M-390. And was surprised when a topographical map of the planet popped up in the green image.

McKay eagerly leaned forward. "Ah-ha! I was over here." He put his hand over Sheppard's on the flat box and his hiding place behind the boulder started to glow red.

Lorne forgot his promise to Carson, got up and hopped over to lean on his CO's bed. "Wow."

Sheppard's face cleared. "Yeah, wow." He concentrated again and little red dots began to spot the map. "This is where I put the teams . . . when we set up watch. Teyla and Ellmore were at the gate."

"Don't forget that Ronon came over to watch the scientist like they were five year olds," snorted Rodney.

"Yeah, and I was here on the rocks," murmured John as his eyes half closed in thought. "What else did you see, McKay. I . . . was down by then."

McKay nudged Sheppard's hand over for better contact with the device. "I saw White, Mawyer and Grant over by the water." The red dots glowed brighter. "And Ronon. Then the shot . . . and Meeks, Woodson and Turner showed up as ordered to stay with the scientists."

The images on the map changed to show the new positions from the original watch positions.

Sheppard nodded slowly. "Call Ronon and Teyla. Maybe they can add to the map."

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It didn't take long for Teyla and Ronon to arrive at the infirmary.

Teyla came in first with a stack of papers. Her chin was tilted with one of her eyebrows raised in barely suppressed amusement at the man who clopped in behind her.

Ronon was snarling as he entered, causing the Marine he had attempted to strangle to shrink back in his bed and attempt to hide behind his laptop.

Sheppard and McKay both looked up at the same time and saw the huge shiner on the Satedan's face.

"Damn, what the hell happened in . . . the cell room to give you a bruise like that?" asked John with a dry, almost soundless whistle.

Ronon just glared at Teyla, who pursed her lips in all innocence.

"Colonel, I'm glad you are feeling somewhat better," the Athosian leader said as she moved closer to the green mid-air display. "You wish us to add to your map?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yes, I was down and McKay was behind . . . a rock. Just tell me what you saw . . . and I'll put it up on the map."

Teyla stepped forward to study the image. "I was here, by the stargate. Private Ellmore was with me—here." She pointed a finger at the gate symbol. "That was all that I could see until we took a head count of the teams."

"Ronon?"

"I didn't see anything but the scientist diving for cover."

Rodney snorted. "I saw you diving for cover just as fast."

"Rodney," grunted Sheppard.

"What? The scientist weren't the only ones diving for cover is all I'm saying."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Okay, so that leaves Hernandez, Shay, Tuck, Bitterman, Killip and . . . Cash unaccounted for."

Teyla offered up her papers. "Here are the pre-interviews that Major Lorne requested. Corporal Halford was kind enough to keep notes in English."

Lorne took the papers and flipped through them until he got to what looked like a crude sketch. The Major shoved the sketch at McKay.

"Oh, looks like Lieutenant Tuck is a wannabe map maker. I should be able to add this to the H.U.D. He is a little off on his distance measurements. Oh, and that rock wasn't over there—"

"McKay, the positions?"

"Sure-sure," nodded Rodney to Sheppard. He put his hand on the corner of the box and lit up seven more positions.

"Who's this down here?" asked Lorne. One of the dots was in front of a rock, not behind one.

McKay looked back at the crude sketch. "Lieutenant Tuck says that it was Lieutenant Hernandez."

"What the hell . . . was he doing without cover?" asked Sheppard.

Lorne flipped throw the pre-interviews until he reached Hernandez's. "Says he was trying to get to you after you were shot—until his Sergeant told him he'd most likely get shot for his troubles."

Ronon rumbled in agreement. He would have taken down anyone who had come close to Sheppard without permission.

Lorne pulled away from the bed, the notes in his hands as he hopped back to his crutches. He stuffed the information down the front of his vest to free up his hands.

"Interview time?" asked Sheppard wistfully.

"I think so, sir. Can I borrow Teyla?"

Sheppard nodded. "I guess Ronon has to stay here."

Lorne gave the big warrior a hard look. "Yes, I'm not letting him near the prisoners after what happened."

Ronon just glared right back.

"I'll send off that request for the records, Major," said Rodney briskly. "I have a few projects that need checking on in the labs. I'll be back later to see how you're doing with the H.U.D., Colonel."

After they cleared out, Sheppard was left with a pissed off Satedan, a slightly cowering Marine two beds down, and four guards. He tried to ignore them by playing with his new toy, making the little red dots glow as he labeled them with names and ranks.

John still wished he were going to the interviews.

Then a weird thing happened.

TBC . . .