Chapter 3.
Thanks so much for the reviews! I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my betas, Merlin and Kodiak, for keeping me on the striaght and narrow. This chapter has spoilers from certain season 1 episodes as well as season 2. All mistakes are my own.
"What the hell is wrong with him, Carson?" McKay paced back and forwards in Beckett's office, nervously wringing his hands together.
Beckett sighed, looking at McKay. "Come and sit down, Rodney." Beckett looked over at Dr.Heightmeyer. "Kate, perhaps it would be best if you explain to Elizabeth and Rodney what we think is happening?"
Dr.Heightmeyer nodded in agreement. "We believe Colonel Sheppard is showing signs of a possible mental breakdown. The headaches, irritability, obsessional behaviour and aggression all are classic symptoms of him not being able to cope with events that have occurred recently…"
"You mean he's going nuts?" McKay interrupted.
Dr. Heightmeyer smiled patiently, before answering the scientist, "No, Rodney. I mean his mind can't cope with the trauma he's experienced. I believe the guilt of losing Ford and, in fact, many men under his command, has weighed far more heavily on him than we have realised. Combined with the burden of command and the physical stress of being interrogated by the Wraith queen as well as other physical hardships, put quite simply – his brain has had enough."
Weir grimaced. "So, you're saying the stress he's experienced has been building up, and now he's reached overload?"
Heightmeyer considered Weir's words. "Yes. That's a real possibility. The colonel is a very private person. He doesn't share his feelings easily. He internalises everything, while outwardly appearing strong. Underneath this strong exterior we don't know what he's feeling. He doesn't want us to. In previous sessions we've had together he is very guarded in what he reveals. He is always trying to deflect my questions with humour, or throwing questions back at me, yet always in a polite and charming manner."
The psychologist paused, smiling, before continuing, "Colonel Sheppard is unusually intelligent. I'm sure you all know his IQ is extremely high. He is very adept at evading my questions. From reading his past psychological evaluations I can tell you he has got it down to a fine art." Heightmeyer paused again, taking a breath before starting up again. "I believe recent events have pushed him too far, and the physical symptoms he's been suffering are a manifestation of his mental breakdown."
Weir nodded. "Okay. He's stressed, he's behaving out of character and it's making him sick. What do we do about it?"
Beckett sighed, before answering, "There are various therapies we can try. Medication can help. Obviously, talking to Kate is a must. The colonel needs to admit what he's feeling and talking about it will definitely help. However, knowing him, this will not be easy. He's not comfortable talking to psychologists, so you two," Beckett gestured towards McKay and Weir, "being closest to him, may be able to help."
McKay balked at Beckett's words. "Ah, yes. Not my strong point, Carson. Personal relationships, that is. Though obviously, I won't let him down. I'm here if he needs me."
Weir nodded. "Me too, Carson. What ever he needs, we'll be here. How long before he shows improvement? He is going to get better, isn't he?"
Heightmeyer smiled gravely, and answered the question for Beckett. "I see no reason why he shouldn't recover…eventually. If this is a stressed induced episode."
McKay and Weir looked at each other nervously. "Ok, what do you mean by 'eventually'? And 'if' it's stress induced? What the hell does that mean?" McKay asked, anxiously.
"Rodney, there are no magic figures I can quote you. The human mind is very complicated. The fact that he has been hearing voices and having nightmares is quite worrying. There could be any number of psychological illnesses he is suffering from, and it's going to take time to rule out certain serious ones," Heightmeyer replied.
"Hang on a minute. You don't think he's showing signs of something like schizophrenia, do you?" McKay suddenly became noticeably concerned, the pitch of his voice raising.
Heightmeyer frowned. "It's also a possibility. I can't rule anything out at this stage. I think it's unlikely though. Post traumatic stress disorder is another strong possibility. It's just too early to tell."
Weir's hands wearily rubbed her tired eyes. "Ok. This is more serious than I thought. Are you sure there is nothing physical causing his problems? The Wraith queen did interrogate him, and he was fine before that…"
Beckett interrupted Weir. "It's unlikely, Elizabeth. Every test I've run has come back negative, every scan clear. His seratonin levels are still a little high, but not seriously so. I can't find any physical reason for the headaches, voices or his recent behaviour. Therefore I must assume it's a psychological problem."
McKay snorted. "Oh, that's just brilliant! You can't find anything physically wrong, therefore he's nuts. Typical doctor conclusion. Now you see why medicine is not a science, Elizabeth?"
"Rodney, you're not helping," Weir solemnly warned McKay.
Beckett grimaced. "I know you're worried, Rodney. So I'll ignore that remark." The doctor smiled at Weir and McKay. "Let's not write him off yet. He's a very strong man, and I'm hopeful this is just a hiccup. When he wakes up and we can start talking to him, we'll have a better idea what's going on. As he's sedated he won't be waking up anytime soon, so I suggest we all get some rest. If anything happens, I'll call you immediately."
Weir and McKay nodded, both standing and exiting the small office. Weir put a comforting hand on McKay's arm. "He'll get through this. He's too strong not to."
McKay looked Weir in the eye. "I hope you're right, Elizabeth. I hope you're right."
-oOo-
Sheppard woke up feeling disoriented, foggy-headed and nauseous. His head felt a little better, though his mouth was dry, feeling as if it were stuffed full of cotton wool. Yet again, an IV was stuck in him, this time in his inner forearm.
Opening his eyes experimentally, he was surprised to discover he was alone, and as the lights in the infirmary were dim, that it was night.
Slowly sitting up, Sheppard thought two things. Firstly, that he needed to get out of the infirmary, and secondly, he was in deep trouble. The former problem he could do nothing about until Beckett discharged him. Trying to escape would only make matters worse. The latter was a huge problem. He accepted that Beckett and the others now knew about the Wraith queen's visits in his head, and probably thought he was insane.
Sheppard's musings were interrupted when Beckett walked in, smiling.
"Colonel? Glad to see you're awake. How are you feeling?"
"Better, thanks. Look…" Sheppard struggled to find the right words. "I'm sorry about earlier. I wasn't feeling myself and said a lot of things I shouldn't have. These damn headaches are killing me, and I can't think straight. I should've told you about the Wraith queen paying me a visit or two. I was scared you'd think I was…not in complete control of my faculties, if you know what I mean?"
Beckett smiled. "You couldn't help it lad, I know that. You should have been honest with me, though I do understand why you were reluctant to share your little secret. We need to talk, Colonel." Beckett's tone suddenly became serious.
Sheppard nodded. "I know. Listen, I'm not going nuts. I know you think I'm obsessed with finding Ford, but he's alive. Trust me. I have to find him…help him. I shouldn't have lost it with Elizabeth, but I was so pissed that she'd talked to Caldwell about me. That hurt, you know?"
"I know. She only did what she thought was best, lad. She was worried. Your behaviour has been, well, let's just say you've been behaving a little out of character recently. I want you to talk to Dr.Heightmeyer."
Beckett looked at Sheppard, and grimaced. "Before you complain, if you want to be put on active duty again any time soon, you're going to have to. You need help. You need to talk about what's going on in that head of yours, and you need to start right away. You can also talk to Elizabeth and Rodney, they're very concerned and they are your friends."
Sheppard answered immediately, "Okay." He smiled at the shock he saw on Beckett's face. "What? You think I want to be plagued by headaches and feel like crap all the time? I'll do whatever you want. I just want to get better."
Beckett patted Sheppard on the arm, and grinnned. "Good. I've already scheduled an appointment with Kate for tomorrow morning. Try and get some more sleep. How's the headache?"
"Still there, Doc. But I'll live," Sheppard answered honestly. He knew he had to convince Beckett he wanted to get help, and that he recognised he needed it. If he could get these headaches under control, then get back on active duty, he could continue his search for Ford. That was his priority now. Sheppard settled down in his pillows, knowing tomorrow was going to be a difficult day.
-oOo-
He was on the Hive ship, on his knees. The Wraith queen towering above him, as she ran a finger down the side of his cheek. Snarling, she taunted him. 'I will savour the taste of your defiance. Your friend was a coward. You, I will enjoy devouring.' He turned his head to look on the floor, and felt sick to see the dried husk of a man lying there. Ford, it was Ford. He screamed at his own impotence, the inevitability of his certain demise and at the injustice of it all. He screamed until his throat was raw, and gasped as he felt the dagger in his chest, as the life was slowly drained from his body…
Screaming, Sheppard jumped out of bed, clambered over the rail in panic, landing on the floor with a thump. His heart felt as though it was going to burst through his chest, sweat dripped down his back, and it was all he could do to stifle a sob. As adrenaline pumped through his body, Sheppard was aware of someone calling his name.
"Colonel. It's alright, lad. It was just a dream. Try and take a few deep breaths…yes, that's it." Beckett – it was Carson standing over him.
Sheppard gulped, and suddenly became aware that he was shaking, and – crying? Men didn't cry, was all Sheppard could think. Big, bad, macho airforce pilots didn't sob because they'd had a bad dream.
"Sorry," he managed to whisper hoarsely.
Carson sighed. "It's okay, lad. Let's see if we can get you back into bed. Can you stand?" the doctor asked kindly.
"Yeah. Sorry, Doc. God, what the hell is wrong with me?" Sheppard ground out, while furiously wiping his tear stained face.
After getting situated comfortably back in bed again, Sheppard was aware of Beckett gently cursing.
"Ah, Colonel, you've ripped out your IV, and you're dripping blood all over your sheets! Never mind, you've soaked your bed with sweat anyway. Let's tape up your arm, change your sheets, and we'll get you some fresh scrubs. Then you'll feel much better."
Just as the doctor had uttered those words, Sheppard's body decided to thoroughly disagree with Beckett. As bile rose in the back of his throat Sheppard managed to lunge towards the opposite side of the bed, and hung his head over the rail, retching and gagging as he vomited bile over the floor.
Sheppard was aware of Beckett calling for help, and slumped back down into his cold, damp pillows, before managing to grind out, "Sorry, again."
"It's okay, son. We'll sort you out. Just try and calm down. We'll get you cleaned up, and then I'll give you something to help you sleep."
Sheppard looked up at Beckett through heavy lidded eyes, and before the approaching darkness claimed him, whispered, "I don't think I'll be needing anything to help with that."
-oOo-
Sheppard sat up in bed, anxiously waiting for Dr. Heightmeyer to arrive. His dream last night had left him feeling weak and vulnerable, as well as humiliated. Beckett had popped in to see him briefly that morning, and though Sheppard had apologised for his embarrassing outburst, and Beckett had reassured him not to worry about it, he still felt raw and spent.
He really didn't like psychologists, though Kate was a decent enough one, and a good person; pretty, personable and certainly not as bad as some shrinks he'd seen over the years.
"Colonel Sheppard. How are you feeling this morning?" Heightmeyer's voice brought Sheppard out of his reverie.
"I've been better." Sheppard grimaced, wishing fervently that he were somewhere else.
Heightmeyer smiled as she sat down in a chair next to the colonel's bed.
"I know. Carson told me about your dream last night. You know why I'm here, Colonel. We need to talk about what's been happening to you recently. I think your dream is a good place to start," the psychologist began.
"I'd rather not talk about it." Sheppard testily answered.
Heightmeyer smiled. "We don't have to if you feel uncomfortable about it. But it would help me to understand what you're going through."
Sheppard groaned. "Fine. It started out with what actually happened to me on the Hive. I was on my knees; the queen was in my head, forcing me to kneel. She ran a finger down the side of my face, one of those metal clawed ones. She told me she was looking forward to feeding from me, but then suddenly Ford was there, and he was dead, sucked dry, and I screamed, and then she started to feed on me. The pain was…so real. It was agony…" Sheppard paused and let out a shaky breath. "Sorry. Then I woke up. I'm sure Beckett's filled you in on the rest of my thrilling little performance?"
Heightmeyer nodded seriously. "He did. Though I don't think he found what happened to you entertaining in any way, Colonel. He was actually quite upset about last nights events."
"Sorry, Doc. I didn't mean to imply he did. I'm feeling pretty humiliated at the moment." Sheppard exhaled and tiredly rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, wincing as he remembered the IV was now in his other arm after his little stunt last night.
"Do you often dream about Lt.Ford and the Wraith queen?"
"Yes," Sheppard quickly answered.
Heightmeyer nodded. "Okay. We need to find out why this has been happening."
Sheppard laughed bitterly. "You mean you need to try and work out why you think I've gone nuts. I'll save you some time, Doctor. I'm not insane, mentally ill, deranged or obsessed. Yes, I've heard the Wraith queen's voice. No, I don't know why. She's not been telling me to murder you all, or anything. I just keep replaying our little Q and A session over and over in my head," Sheppard paused, smiling insincerely at Heightmeyer.
"I have been suffering what Beckett thinks, are migraines. They've made me feel sick and tired. I can't deny that I've been…grumpy, and… less tolerant than usual. What can I say? McKay's obviously rubbing off on me." Sheppard plastered his best smile on his face yet again. He was going to keep smiling, until it worked or his face cracked, whichever came first.
Heightmeyer smiled back at the colonel. "I don't think you're 'nuts', Colonel. I believe that you may suffering from stress. That's what I'm here to determine, and hopefully to treat. Sometimes the mind can't cope with the events forced upon it, and the only way that it can tell you it's not coping, is to have physical symptoms manifest in your body. The headaches, dreams and voices you've been hearing certainly could be a result of that. Tell me about Lt. Ford. Why do you feel so responsible for the situation he's in?"
Sheppard briefly flinched, before composing himself. "Ford is…was, under my command. Of course I'm responsible for him. I let him down."
"How did you let him down?"
"I…I should have stopped him from escaping Atlantis after the Wraith attacked. I could have done more, talked to him, made him listen to me. I should have stopped him from diving into the Wraith beam when we found him on 'radiation planet'. That's what he would have named it, 'radiation planet'. He always gave the worlds we visited names. Used to drive me nuts. Now I miss that a lot…" Sheppard paused, his voice having grown gruff as his emotions overwhelmed him,
"It's perfectly normal to miss a colleague or friend, especially in circumstances such as those surrounding Lt. Ford's enforced absence. You weren't responsible for that, regardless of how you feel."
Sheppard listened to Heightmeyer's words knowing what she said made sense, yet not believing for a minute that her words were true.
After a brief pause, where Sheppard was aware of Heightmeyer's scrutiny, the psychologist continued.
"You feel responsible for the lieutenant's departure, yet realistically you couldn't have done anything to prevent his addiction to the Wraith enzyme or stop him escaping from you. Why do you think you blame yourself for his situation?"
Sheppard answered Heightmeyer's question with ease, though he was surprised by his honesty. "I woke up the Wraith."
Heightmeyer wrote something down on her palm pilot, Sheppard noticed. She then looked up at him.
"You didn't purposely wake the Wraith. You picked up a locket, and your gene activated a beacon, which alerted the Wraith. How is that your fault?" she earnestly asked.
"What does it matter? I still activated it. If I hadn't been on this mission, it wouldn't have happened. The Pegasus Galaxy would have been relatively free of the Wraith for another fifty years. How do you think that makes me feel?" Sheppard cried out, frustrated by his frailty and stupidity at letting Heightmeyer make him reveal things he wanted to keep buried.
Heightmeyer sighed. "Colonel, the Wraith would have woken up. What difference does it make that it was earlier than it should have been? You not being here would have been worse. Think of all the positive things you've brought to this mission."
Sheppard laughed. "Yeah. Like killing my CO? That was a positive contribution, wasn't it? What about pissing off the Genii, and then killing sixty of their men? That was one of my better efforts, wasn't it? Not to mention helping a load of convicts escape being lunch for the Wraith, and because of that innocent people were culled. Oh, yeah, I'm sure everybody is delighted I came to the Pegasus Galaxy."
Sheppard shakily took in a breath, desperately trying to calm down. His head had started to pound, and he suddenly felt the beginnings of a migraine starting up again. "Sorry, I need to lie down," he managed to grind out.
Heightmeyer put a hand on his arm. "It's alright, Colonel. Try and clam down. I'll get Dr. Beckett."
A few minutes later, Sheppard was aware of Beckett standing over him, he felt Beckett tugging at his IV, and suddenly felt a fuzzy warmth coursing through his veins. As the Wraith queen again entered his mind, he drifted off into drug induced sleep.
-oOo-
"Colonel Sheppard was unusually forthcoming in our session, and I feel we made a lot of progress. I'm optimistic that stress is the source of his problems, and nothing more serious." Heightmeyer looked at the three other people in the infirmary with her, before continuing.
"He is carrying so much guilt. I blame myself partly for not seeing this sooner. His charm, wit and intelligence can easily blind us, and we never see what's underneath his confidant and appealing exterior. So much has happened to him, none of it his fault, yet he blames himself for everything. I'm not sure there's anything we can do to make him change his mind about his role in events here. But, I believe discussing it, and getting him to admit how he felt, is the first step to his recovery."
Beckett was the first to respond to Heightmeyer's words. "That's encouraging news, Kate. You agree there's no need to medicate him at this stage?" Heightmeyer nodded her agreement. "Good. Obviously I'm giving him painkillers for the migraines. But I believe, in time, these will diminish, along with the replaying of his interrogation with the Wraith queen in his mind and his nightmares. In a way, this is like a mild form of PTSD. So, all things considered, I think he's turned the corner. Admitting those feelings will definitely unburden him, to a certain extent. Though obvoiusly this is just the beginning."
McKay snorted. "Sheppard just doesn't strike me as somebody who'd crack under the pressure. It's not him. You sure there's nothing physically wrong with him?"
Beckett considered McKay's words. "I'm pretty certain, Rodney. Sometimes these things can affect the most unlikely people. He doesn't vent his emotions or wear his heart on his sleeve like some of us do, and that can be very unhealthy for the mind."
"True. Something just doesn't add up, that's all," McKay grouched.
Weir smiled at McKay. "I know what you mean, Rodney. However Carson and Kate are the professionals here, and we have to trust them. What happens next?"
Heightmeyer answered Weir's question. "We carry on with the sessions. I feel we've made a real breakthrough here. He's admitted his feelings for the first time. Now he just needs to come to terms with what's happened. It will take time, but I'm feeling pretty positive."
Beckett grinned. "Good. I'll let you know how he's doing later. I'm sure he'd like some visitor's when his headache has improved. I'll just go and check on him now." Beckett walked away towards the curtained off section of the infirmary, as Weir and McKay wandered away.
-oOo-
The next three days passed slowly for Sheppard. His continuing sessions with Heightmeyer appeared to leave the psychologist very pleased with herself, Sheppard thought. He'd been released from the infirmary the previous day, and was confined to his quarters to rest, only being allowed out for sessions with Heightmeyer, check ups with Beckett or to go the mess for food.
Sheppard was pleased Beckett and Heightmeyer appeared to believe he was improving; he was obviously saying and doing all the right things. Deep down, Sheppard knew the two medical professionals meant well, but neither understood what he was going through, or what he needed to do to get better. He needed to find Ford.
His headaches had not really improved, but the analgesics and medication Beckett had prescribed for the migraines were working well. Sheppard had managed to keep the pain at a tolerable level, certainly low enough to fool Beckett into believing that he wasn't really suffering any more. He had enough pills left to last him for the foreseeable future, if he took them sparingly.
The voice of the Wraith queen was ever present in Sheppard's head, but somehow, and he really didn't understand why or how, he was managing to control his reactions to it. Certainly, losing his temper or becoming agitated exacerbated the problem, he had come to realise. His nightmares still hounded him though.
Sleeping was the most difficult thing for Sheppard. He dreaded it, constantly dreaming of Ford, the Wraith queen, with her hypnotic voice in his head. Just a few more days and he'd be allowed back on light duty, and then a couple more and he figured Beckett would ok limited active duty. Then he'd be able to go off and find Ford, and his problems would all be solved.
A knock on the door of his quarters brought Sheppard back to reality. On opening the door, he spied an anxious McKay standing outside.
The scientist smiled. "Can I come in?"
Sheppard stood aside, gesturing with his hand. "Yeah, sure. You ok?"
McKay snorted. "I was going to ask you the same. You certainly look better."
"Yeah. I'm feeling better every day. What about you?"
"Ah, I'm fine. I, er, came to have a talk with you." McKay sat down in a chair by Sheppard's desk.
Sheppard inwardly chuckled. "Oh -kaay. What do you want to talk about?" He knew full well the scientist had been sent there to talk about his 'feelings' and a part of him knew how difficult this was for Rodney. The other part was as amused as hell, looking forward to seeing the scientist squirm with embarrassment.
"Well, I just wanted you to know that if you feel the need to…if you want to…if it helps for you to…" McKay paused, and Sheppard thought he looked like a small animal trapped in a corner, desperate to escape its predator's clutches. "Christ, this is so not my forte. What I'm trying to say is, that I count you as a friend, and if you need to talk to someone, well, I'm here." McKay nervously put his hand through his hair, and Sheppard inwardly laughed as he heard the scientist mutter, "I am so crap at this stuff. Why couldn't Elizabeth do this? She's much better at playing friendships than me."
Sheppard smiled. "Thanks, Rodney. If I need to talk to somebody, I know where to find you."
McKay exhaled, and Sheppard felt a little guilty for enjoying the show. "Good, good. Well, if you don't feel like unburdening yourself anytime soon, I have a load of work to do. I'm going to get started analysing the readings on that artifact you touched the other day. As usual Zelenka has not been able to find out anymore. Sometimes to get things done properly you just have to do them yourself. Actually, I always have to do things myself, but I digress. I'll stop by later and we can get some dinner at the mess. That ok with you?"
"Yeah. Sounds good. McKay?" Sheppard paused as the departing scientist turned to look at him. "Thanks."
"Yes, well…what are friends for?" McKay replied as he walked through the doors of Sheppard's quarters.
-oOo-
As Sheppard had hoped, four days later and he was back on active duty. Beckett and Heightmeyer were thrilled at his progress, they'd told him. Of course they hadn't realised he was still suffering headaches, and still hearing the Wraith queen's ever-dulcet tones. Still, he rationalised, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. All Sheppard needed now was to be allowed off world. Beckett had told him he was not cleared to fly yet, because of the headaches, even though the doctor believed they had improved. He also wouldn't okay 'gate travel. Sheppard was still working on that one. Which brought him to where he was heading - Weir's office.
Sheppard stood in the doorway of her office and smiled, what he hoped was his most charming smile at the leader of Atlantis.
Weir looked up from her laptop. "John. You're looking better. I hear Carson has cleared you for limited active duty."
"Yeah. That's what I've come to see you about." Sheppard tentatively said.
Weir looked ruefully at Sheppard. "Why am I not surprised? Before you spend the next fifteen minutes alternately whining, begging, moaning, and plastering the 'John Sheppard lost puppy dog' face on. Don't bother."
Sheppard instantly felt deflated, and he realised that must have shown on his face as Weir started to laugh.
"We know you too well, John! Carson, Kate and I have decided you can go off world."
Sheppard suddenly felt shocked, had she really said yes, before he'd even asked?
"But - and it's a big but, there are certain conditions. Lorne is leading a mission to S6Q- 526 tomorrow morning. The rest of your team is going. It's a simple recon mission, and there's no sentient life there. You will not be in command of the mission, you will not carry any weapon other than a hand stunner, and Beckett will accompany you everywhere. I know this all sounds draconian, but we all have your best interests at heart." Weir looked up at Sheppard, and he thought she was waiting for him to complain. He really enjoyed surprising people, he decided.
"Yeah? Sounds great. Thanks." As he saw the astonished look on Weir's face, he decided he definitely liked surprising Weir.
She composed herself before replying, "Good. Get a good night's sleep. And I'll see you before you leave tomorrow. The mission briefing is scheduled for 0800 hours. John?"
Sheppard looked back at Weir as he started to leave her office. "Yeah?"
"It's good to have you back."
"Thanks. It's good to be back. 'Night Elizabeth."
Sheppard walked with an invigoured spring to his steps as he returned to his quarters. Tomorrow he would go off world, escape the team and gate to M3T-341, the planet where he believed Ford was hiding. Once he found his former lieutenant, and brought him back to Atlantis, everything would finally be back to normal.
Tbc.
