Part 7 – Where do You Think You're Going Colonel?

Elizabeth raced down the stairs when Sheppard's IDC came in. She wasn't ashamed at showing the relief she felt on her face. Only a few techs and guards occupied the gate room anyway at this time of night. However, her elation abruptly ended when she caught sight of him. She'd seen John return home in various states and conditions but this ridged - I'm trying very hard to be okay - was something else.

"John?"

"Look what we've got?" he declared pointing to the baskets, trying to distract her attention.

"Yes, very nice but…."

"Not here," he whispered as he presented her the flowers.

Elizabeth took them from him with a smile. "Thank you." Turning to the two soldiers, she ordered. "Take these things to the mess hall kitchen and then go off duty for the night."

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison.

When the two men moved off, Elizabeth turned back to find John walking away from her. "Where do you think you're going, Colonel?"

John cringed at the formality of her voice. He couldn't really think straight anymore, so frankly he didn't know where he was going. Only that he had to get away from prying eyes and too many questions. Making sure Rodney never got wind of this. Therefore, the only logical place to go was his quarters although, the infirmary would have been nice right now but that was far too public. Maybe, he could get Carson to come to him but at this time of night, the doc was probably tucked up, all nice and snugly in his bed. Like, he wanted to be if it wasn't for his back killing him, reminding him every second of the abuse laid upon it earlier today or was it yesterday?

Elizabeth's voice called out again but he kept on walking until he found her blocking his way.

"I said, where do you think you're going, Colonel? The infirmary is that way," she pointed.

"I know but it's late and the mission med can wait until morning."

"Are you crazy, John? You come back looking like hell and then use that as an excuse not to go. This is not like you."

"I have my reasons."

Elizabeth looked exasperated. "I'm sure you have but…."

John stopped her when he whispered. "Where's Rodney?"

The question caught her by surprise. "He's…err…in his lab, I think. He asked if you were back about an hour ago but I haven't heard from him since."

"Alright contact him, tell I'm back but I'm going straight to bed and then I'll go to the infirmary with you, but only if I can see Carson in private."

Wondering what in heavens name was wrong Elizabeth relented. Tapping her radio, she managed to pass the message along to a relieved Rodney who wasn't asleep yet and get Carson out of his bed. The doctor grumbled a bit but told her he'd be along in a minute.

Turning back to her second-in-command, she found John half slumped against the wall. "Hey, do you want me call for a gurney?"

"Na, I've made it this far I can make it the rest of the way."

Without another word, they both moved off in the direction of the infirmary. John was extremely grateful for Elizabeth's quiet support, as he didn't know how much longer he could last before his legs would finally give out.

Thankfully, it didn't take long until they entered Carson's domain and John was relieved that the man himself was waiting for them.

Beckett took one look at the colonel and sighed. "What have ya done to yourself this time, son? Come on let's go into the treatment room and check ya over."

John didn't hesitate as he stumbled after the doctor. Elizabeth couldn't decide whether to follow or wait outside but she desperately wanted to know what the problem was, so she slipped in behind them.

Carson led Sheppard over to the examining couch and John eased himself carefully down to perch on the edge.

"Ya know you're going to have to get rid of that thing?" Carson stated.

"What?"

"The damn weapon, son, ya don't need it here."

John looked down and realized that he was still clutching his P90 for dear life. Carefully, he unclipped it from his vest and held it out for the doctor to put down.

Carson could see what an effort that simple movement had cost the colonel, so reluctantly taking the weapon, Beckett placed it against the wall. "Now could ya remove your vest and jacket for me, please?"

Grunting, John attempted to ease out of his vest but the effort nearly made him black out. He heard the doc mutter something about needing a nurse before Carson stepped in and helped him to remove it. With an effort, the vest eventually came off and then the jacket by which time John was half out of it with pain and dizziness.

Carson wasted no time in quickly removing his 9mm, holster and belt. "Now what the bloody hell is causing ya so much pain. Is it your back?" Beckett questioned as he began to assess the man. John gave him a short nod and Beckett looked over John's shoulder to see that his black t-shirt was clinging in an abnormal way.

A nurse entered the room and she moved over the assist the doctor after he requested her help in getting the now half-conscious colonel to lay down on his front. Quickly grabbing a pair of scissors the nurse began to cut away the material of his t-shirt as the doctor waited to evaluate the damage.

"Oh, bloody hell," Carson cried echoing both the nurse and Elizabeth shocked gasps as they caught sight of John's back.

Elizabeth sat down quickly on a nearby stool. Tears welled up as she whispered. "How could anyone do such a thing?"

"I have no idea," Carson answered her. "Okay, we'd better get this cleaned up. Elizabeth would ya mind removing his shoes for me and then we can get him out of these trousers."

Elizabeth quickly moved to comply as the nurse was still trying to remove the remaining t-shirt, and she was having difficulties because dried blood and skin encrusted the material making it tricky to remove without causing more damage. John occasionally grunted when she hit a sensitive spot. Carson silently passed her some sterile solution, which she used to soak the material making it softer and easier to remove.

Shoes off, Carson gently turned John over enough to reach the fasteners of his uniform pants and then eased them down over his hips. Elizabeth averted her eyes slightly.

Carson smiled a bit. "'ave ya not seen the colonel's hairy legs before, Elizabeth?"

"It's not his legs I'm worried about." Elizabeth retorted.

"Oh, its okay we'll be leaving his boxers on for now. Although, I think its best ya wait outside. This is going to take a wee while and ya don't 'ave to watch."

Gratefully, Elizabeth left the treatment room without another word. Her thoughts were in turmoil. She had a suspicion about what had occurred, so could they in all honesty, trade with people like that? Grabbing a chair, she sat down and prepared for a long wait.

She must have dozed off because the next Elizabeth knew was Beckett standing over her with a hot cup of tea.

Gratefully taking it from him, she asked. "How is he?"

Carson parked himself down on a chair by her. "All cleaned up, wounds taped and dressed, pumped full of antibiotics, painkillers and a saline drip to replace lost fluids. The blood loss wasn't severe enough to require more than one unit of blood. How the hell he managed to make it home I'll never know. I swear that man is as stubborn as a donkey."

"He did it for Rodney." Elizabeth whispered.

"Ya what?"

"Rodney was facing some form of punishment for touching their shrine or something. I'm guessing that John took the punishment for him and that's why he's so desperate to keep it from Rodney."

Carson was flabbergasted. "Sheppard's need to protect those he cares about never ceases to dumbfound me and aye, I can understand the need to keep this from Rodney. I don't know if he would appreciate the gesture, so we'd better come up with a good cover story."

I'm posting part 8 as well today. Hope you enjoy and please keep reviewing. Thanks.