Chapter 6: Canadian Troubles
The next few days seemed to go a lot smoother. Elizabeth's talk with me, confronting my fears, seemed to have poked a hole, letting most of the steam out of my temper. That, in turn, eased some of the tension that had been fueling my headaches. It also appeared to cut back on the amount and severity of the malfunctions, easing everyone else's headaches. All around, a much better situation. It helped that I unconsciously found myself seeking out a certain balcony when things became too much. Within ten minutes, Elizabeth always quietly joined me, coffee cups in hand.
Today, though, when she was the one needing the shoulder and the sounding board, I finally realized something. I had fallen into an old, well-established routine, and with more than one person. The first was Elizabeth, and it hadn't been at all easy for me, but after that, things just seemed to fall in line. Instead of trying to force myself back in relationships I couldn't remember, I found myself rebuilding them through activities that I once again shared with the person.
The morning after the balcony encounter had seen the second routine slip into place, though it definitely hadn't been my idea. I had awoken to a heavy, insistent pounding on my door. Forcing myself out of bed, I had muttered dire threats against the life of whoever had dared disturb me, only to open the door and find- Ronon.
"Sheppard. Get dressed. Beckett says you can't run, so we're going for a long walk. Now."
It was a flat statement, bordering on an order, but I wasn't inclined to argue. I had been reluctantly holding back on the walks that my restless nature wanted, for fear of getting myself lost again. Nothing could compel me to face that humiliating situation again.
Ronon turned out to be a very quiet companion for much of the time, but it was the silence of comrades in arms, comfortable with each other, knowing they had nothing to prove. It was punctuated by short, frank conversations on a wide range of topics. It was relaxing, being with someone who just accepted me, amnesia or no. I also was able to get a native's view of the Wraith threat.
Not good. The phrase 'out of the frying pan and into the raging fire' comes to mind.
To my bewilderment, Ronon had not led me back to my quarters after we were done, instead coming to an area that had been set up as a gym. There, we found Teyla waiting for us. Or, more precisely, me. Apparently, we had been training together for most of the last two years. I was teaching her about Earth culture and she was training me in the Athosian stick fighting. Just because I no longer actively remembered the sessions, she insisted, was no reason to believe they weren't still there. Dr. Beckett had told her that muscles often retained familiar activity patterns even when the brain didn't.
Too bad mine are perfectly willing to have amnesia!
The short sticks had felt strange in my hands, the moves awkward, and my whole body sluggish. I was embarrassed, frustrated... If anyone other then Teyla had been teaching me, it would have been a recipe for disaster. Instead, she serenely brushed off my outbursts, simply waiting until I was done yelling, then continued. Along with the physical moves, she began telling stories- of her people, our meeting, worlds we had visited, trouble we got into, anything and everything.
Finally, today, it had paid off. Tired, focused on a few flashes of memory from that weird out-of-body point of view evoked by Teyla's latest tale, I didn't see the blow coming- but instinctively blocked it anyway, in a move I knew she hadn't retaught me. In seconds, I had her on the ground, stick at her throat in the kill position. I don't know who was more surprised- her or me! For one split second, everything just felt right. Then Teyla began beating the crap outta me, and I realized just how basic the moves she had been reteaching me were. Now, she didn't hold back, and I had quite a collection of bruises to show where my old skills were still lacking. Hence, I was now headed for the infirmary to beg, borrow, or steal some Tylenol from Carson.
For the first time, I think I really have a shot at getting some of the missing pieces back!
I was getting back into shape with Teyla and Ronon. A solid friendship was coming back between Elizabeth and I. I had read enough that the reports were actually beginning to make sense! Even the headaches were finally almost gone, though I wasn't about to admit to Carson that I still had them. Things were definitely looking up!
Until I turned the corner. I should have remembered one of my favorite sayings: 'Plans seldom survive the first engagement with the enemy.'
I had just enough time to glimpse the shocked face of one Rodney McKay, resident genius, before we collided, both winding up on our butts on the floor.
Oh, goody, more bruises to add to my collection.
"Damn it, McKay! Watch where the hell you're going!"
"Me! ME!" I winced as his voice not grew louder, but actually went up an octave.
Had I accidentally hit him somewhere rather sensitive?
"Watch yourself, Colonel Klutz! You almost damaged a very valuable Ancient artifact! Not to mention the effects on my very sensitive back! You could have crippled me! You could have-"
At that point, I tuned him out. It was going to be all I could do to hold my temper until he wound down without actually listening to him as well. This race would be a close one.
What was I drinking when I put this man on my off-world team? Self-punishment?
A hand appeared in front of me and I looked up as the other person pulled me to my feet. I met the amused and slightly aggrieved eyes of my second-in-command, Major Marcus Lorne, who made no move to also aid the irate scientist still sprawled on the floor. Rolling my eyes, I decided I'd finally had enough of this arrogant ass. He seemed to go out of his way to annoy me, and this time I wouldn't be silent.
Look out, McKay, no Mr. Tolerant this time!
Slowly surveying the ranting man, I crossed my arms and let fly. "For a genius, you look pretty damn stupid sitting there with a bucket on your foot."
Oh my! What a reaction! He stopped mid-rant, staring at me in shock for several seconds before a glint came into his eye. It looked suspiciously like pleased amusement! What had I just done? His reply was sarcastic and condescending at the same time. Neat trick.
"It's not a bucket, it's a device the Ancients were testing! Of course, only someone with my intellect would know that!"
Now, that one was too easy. "You mean the average five-year-old?"
The gleam of battle shown from blue eyes, but a choked snort from my right stopped his reply, reminding us both that we had an audience. Lorne was trying desperately to stifle a laugh, his face beginning to tint fairly red. McKay glared.
"So glad you find this amusing! This is all your fault anyway, Major Disaster!"
"McKay!" I growled, mercifully halting the rant we could both see building cold. "What happened?"
Reaching down, I helped the man to his feet...well, foot. His right leg ended in what did look an awful lot like a bucket made from that opaque crystal the Ancients seemed to like. I had absolutely no desire to know what the thing actually was. The scientist simply glared at me, though, so I raised an eyebrow at the major.
"Well?"
Lorne immediately winced.
This outta be good.
"I was doing advanced security training with some of the newbies the Daedalus brought in two weeks ago, including sweeping a lab. No one was supposed to be there, but someone forgot about the e-mail notice I sent out. Dr. McKay suddenly popped up from behind a table, yelling at Lieutenant Rand. She jumped and fell into me, and I knocked into McKay... He stepped back into that thing. His foot's stuck."
Scientist glared at Major. Major glared at Scientist.
Yep, these two get along just dandy.
I knew from reports that McKay occasionally went off-world with Lorne's team. How had the astrophysicist managed to keep coming back in one piece?
"And so concludes the report of Major Interference, who, of course, picked the lab of the busiest and most important scientist in Atlantis to disrupt! And why! To train the baby commandos!"
McKay's voice was once again rising in volume, hands gesturing so forcefully they threatened to topple the man. Lorne, meanwhile, seemed to be losing whatever control over his temper he still had left. His face was turning a lovely shade of red.
"That's not your normal lab, Doctor." Oooh, he was excellent at making a title into an implied insult. Maybe there was hope for the man yet. "And I received clearance for the exercise beforehand, including from you! It's not my fault if you forgot!" Lorne had actually managed to keep tone relatively civil, if scornful.
Abruptly, I realized something. During the entire fight with Lorne, McKay had actually been watching me out of the corner of his eyes! He appeared to be waiting for something...and I finally knew what it was. Snatches of conversations from times past rang in my ears. The two of us exchanging good natured insults, snarking, bantering! I couldn't recall whole pieces, just parts, but it didn't really matter at the moment. All those days of argument, him seeking me out just to insult me...it all made sense. Sort of. If trading barbs was natural...
Let's just test this, shall we.
"Sounds to me like you put your foot in it, McKay. It's not the major's fault the shoe didn't fit."
Lorne winced at my bad puns, looking distinctly pained. McKay, though... The man was actually smiling!
He shot back, too. "Well, if certain military types didn't take after their CO and have two left feet-!"
Satisfied, I rocked back on my heels, grinning. "He was just helping the newbies put their best foot forward."
"Keeping them on their toes, so to speak." Lorne smiled smugly, managing to insert one that had Rodney's eyes rolling. "Come on, doctor, let's get you to the infirmary. See if Dr. Beckett has any suggestions on getting that thing off."
I couldn't have asked for a better opening. "I'll take him, Major. I don't have anything better to do at the moment."
Good. Now I had an excuse for being there without putting signs above my head saying 'I got the crap out of me and need drugs.' Lorne met my eye with a grateful nod, and I took over herding the one-foot-wonder to the infirmary, merrily trading insults all the way.
An hour later, I was leaning against an unoccupied infirmary bed, watching the Canadian stock out with his toy, still griping. It had actually been rather entertaining, trading remarks with Rodney while giving Carson helpful suggestions on how to get the thing off. Trading a grin with a chuckling Carson, I shrugged.
"I don't know what his problem was. I thought amputation was a perfectly valid suggestion."
My dry statement set us both off laughing again, though at least part of it was sheer relief. We had actually been getting a little desperate, with Gloom and Doom McKay in full panic mode, when I had simply laid my hand on the stupid thing. It lit up and came off. Rodney had not been amused.
"Aye, well, that was good to see." Carson's comment brought my attention off the now closed door.
"What was?"
"You laughin'. Its been a while, Colonel. Not ta mention you an' Rodney goin' back and forth like normal instead o' screamin'. What brought that on?"
I resisted the urge to reach up and rub my once again aching head. My body was reminding me of why I had been heading here in the first place.
"I don't really know, doc. It just suddenly felt right. So that really is normal for us?"
"Oh, aye. Ya'd think the two o' you hated each other instead 'o goin' through hell on a regular basis because the other one needed ya. Quite a remarkable friendship you two have, actually. Now, son, what did ya really need?"
At my stunned look, he laughed again, lightly. "Donna be lookin' so surprised. Yer memory has a few holes, but yer still our Colonel Sheppard! What's hurtin'?"
"Everything. Some of my training came back, but not enough to avoid Teyla's stick consistently." Behind my back, my fingers were crossed, hoping he wouldn't push. My headaches were manageable, and the last thing that I wanted was to be stuck in the infirmary for more tests. Atlantis and I would work it out. Eventually.
Carson's eyes narrowed, so I put on my best 'innocent' face. He checked me over, grunted, and went over to a cabinet, pulling out a small bottle of Tylenol, then hesitated.
"Ya didn't get hit in the head at all, did ya? Even without losing consciousness?"
At least I was able to answer that one honestly. "No, not at all."
"All right. Follow the label, but I hear about it immediately if they don't help or things get worse." He fixed me with a stern glare. "Includin' that headache yer pretendin' ya don't have. Again. That's an order, Colonel."
Ouch! This guy keeps catchin' me red-handed!
"I will. Thanks, Carson."
My curiosity about a certain Canadian aroused, I swallowed the pills and headed back to my office for some careful re-reading of mission reports. Taking anyone or anything in Atlantis at face value seemed to be a big mistake. One I really didn't want to make twice.
What I found wasn't that much of a surprise, and I cursed myself for overlooking it before. McKay was a whining, annoying, know-it-all pain in the ass, but when it truly counted, the man came through. Bravery, lack of regard for his own safety, creativity, intelligence, a stubbornness that didn't know when to quit- it was all there. Amazing.
Now, if he'd just learn when to shut up and how to shoot without losing the clip out of his gun...
Gut clenching, I lost myself in another memory...
Several marines were down around a shaking McKay, a Wraith warrior steadily advancing on him. Rodney was screaming at the alien, apparently attempting to intimidate the thing. Not happening. Nearby, there was a box...and what I needed was in there. I could feel the power. Then Rodney tried to fire the gun almost point blank at the Wraith, but ejected the clip instead. We were doomed.
A crash and the impact of my body on the floor jarred me back to myself, head pounding and hands shaking. I knew. These couldn't be my memories! I had just read the reports on the only two times I knew of that we had Wraith in the city, and I wasn't with Rodney when he had the ZPM during the siege.
"SHIT!" Reaching out, I slammed my fist against my tipped over chair, not caring how much it hurt. Someone, something, was somehow playing with me. Scrambling up, I left, walking rapidly, aimlessly through the corridors, brushing past colleagues without acknowledgment.
I need to be alone.