AN: This series will be episode tags for all twenty episodes of Season 3. Because of this, I'm giving one big 'spoiler warning' here. This complete series will be spoilers for season 3. The episode tags will go in order and will be Sheppard centric. The basic idea was to focus on the small H/C bits we didn't get to see, but also to highlight any damage afterwards, emotional and physical.

Aftermath

Damn, but Sheppard had a headache. Between his ship being blasted, the oxygen deprivation, and the general lack of sleep during the trip back to Atlantis…yeah, his head ached like it'd been used as a drum.

McKay and Zelenka (along with a lot of other people) had managed to rig the Daedalus to pump enough oxygen into the bridge, and with Michael driving the hive ship full of Daedalus personnel and prisoners, they limped back to Atlantis. When Sheppard walked into the city, he might have said a little prayer of thanks to himself, because there'd been moments where he'd wondered if he was ever going to see it again.

Rescue Ronon and McKay…that'd been about as far as he'd thought ahead when he'd landed on the hull of the hive ship and locked on.

Pretty colors notwithstanding, the trip through hyperspace with a dwindling oxygen supply had been a little disconcerting.

Alls well that ends well is a motto he subscribed fully to, so, they were alive, and overall, headache and general muscle aches aside, today was a pretty good day.

"Colonel, it is good to see you."

Teyla grasped his arms and they did that head touch thing. While she had her head still bent, her murmurs were for him only. "We thought we had lost you…again."

He had to smile at the soft accusation. Pulling away, he said, "I'm the bad penny, remember?"

A long time ago, it felt like lifetimes, he'd explained the saying. Another mission, another near miss. There'd been a hell of a lot more since then. Before he could find something reassuring to say, Beckett came jogging up the stairs. The command deck was humming with activity as the personnel from the ships filtered down, while repair crews went back up. They had a ship full of de-wraithified prisoners, and Elizabeth was still on Earth, and would be until the Daedalus could get on her feet enough to begin the journey back.

"Colonel Sheppard, Son, did you not get my message?"

Of course, just in time for him to have to fight back a wince, his headache thrummed that little bit harder. "Doc, you've had an infirmary full of wounded; my post mission check could wait."

"Aye," he agreed. "You would think that." Beckett's face was a hundred and ten percent stern irony. "But you'd be wrong, now, infirmary and then when you're cleared, you can get back to…" He looked at Teyla, then Sheppard, and the milling room full of people. "Whatever it is you were doing," he said with a weary sigh.

"Colonel, I believe I can manage a little while longer." Teyla took a report from a tech and thanked the woman, before fixating again on Sheppard. "Colonel Caldwell will be here once he finishes going over necessary repairs with Hermiod, I believe."

Sheppard really was tired, and his head did ache enough that he felt it down to his teeth, so maybe a few moments to let Carson have his reassurance and scam some Tylenol wouldn't be so bad.

"All right, Doc, you win," he agreed. "Teyla, if you need me --"

She pushed him towards Beckett firmly. "I know where to find you, go, Colonel. And, John?" she raised an eyebrow at him when he turned to look. "It is good to see you alive and well."

Sheppard had to keep reminding himself they thought he'd died. "It's good to be alive," he smiled.

Then Doc was pulling him towards the stairs, and his headache erased his grin. Damn, mental note, having your ship blown almost in half was bad on the body. Carson prodded him for details during the walk to the infirmary. Sheppard explained how he'd latched onto the hive ship, and got a hold of Michael on the radio while trying to contact McKay and Ronon, then how when they were trying to damage the ship, the Daedalus has arrived, good timing and all that, and the last minute plan to save their lives by taking over the hive ship.

He might have left off a couple important things, like his ship being hit, but aside from the vise crushing his skull and neck, he was good. Headaches don't kill you, least not, most of them. And Sheppard was pretty sure he'd know if it was serious. It'd happened over ten hours ago and he was still on his feet.

"Colonel, I see Carson got his fingers on you finally."

"McKay," Sheppard drawled.

Rodney was lying on an exam bed across from where Carson steered Sheppard, and as he got stiffly on it, he studied the man as subtlety as he could. They hadn't gotten a lot of time to catch up on what'd happened to him and Ronon, but Sheppard had seen the cocoons. He knew how freaked he would've felt being stuck in one of those things…so, that means McKay had probably been a step ahead of digging his grave.

As Carson began strapping a cuff to Sheppard's arm, he said, "Rodney's fine. He and Ronon were dehydrated, but otherwise good. Ronon all ready left but I'm keeping Rodney for a little bit more."

Sheppard jerked his head slightly towards Rodney. "That's probably a good idea."

Sitting down, on the other hand, had been a bad idea. No, a really bad idea. Nothing like feeling the events suddenly catch up to you in the span of a heartbeat. As heavy as his body felt just then, it felt like he was pulling G's in his fighter.

After Beckett was finished with his vitals, he set John's chart on the bed next to Sheppard, and pulled the penlight out. "Look at me, Colonel."

He did what he was told and tried not to flinch as the light made his headache instantly worse. Sheppard fought against wincing, but it was mostly reflexive. Beckett pulled the light away and frowned at him. "Did you hit your head?"

Rodney stopped fiddling with his IV and fixed on Sheppard.

John paused too long, trying to figure out a way to deal with this. If he told them his fighter had been almost blown in two, odds were good, he wasn't leaving here until the mandatory twenty-four observation period for any pilot involved in an aircraft accident. Not that there'd been much accident

"Colonel, just how did you get on the hive ship?"

That'd come from McKay.

Trying to look, you know, like it wasn't a big deal, Sheppard shrugged. "I don't know, some kind of tractor beam I guess."

"You guess?" Beckett asked. He held up his index finger and ordered, "Follow with your eyes only, Colonel."

"Either it was, or it wasn't, Sheppard, and it'd be nice to know if the wraith have that kind of technology, because before now, we haven't seen any evidence whatsoever to that effect, so think hard," McKay suggested.

For Rodney, there wasn't much of an edge to his voice that normally would've been there, so either he was tired or he was actually concerned.

"Look," Sheppard started, feeling like he was losing ground here, "I don't know. There was a lot going on at the time." Like he'd been unconscious in the wrecked fighter, or merely stunned from the impact, hell, he couldn't even say for sure which one.

Carson lowered his finger and folded his arms. "Colonel, your neurological exam suggests you suffered some form of head trauma. I sincerely suggest you come clean about what happened, otherwise, I'll have no choice but to order a battery of tests to rule out other causes."

Damn it. This wasn't a good time to be in this situation. Elizabeth was gone, Caldwell had his hands full with the Daedalus, they had a hive ship full of prisoners…

"My ship was disabled by a hit from a Dart. I don't remember much until I was being hauled through a corridor by some wraith. That's it." Succinct was probably good here. He'd told the truth, so, that should do. "I feel fine; slight headache. Doc, I've been going nonstop since then and I haven't suffered anything that would make me think it was important."

"Your ship was disabled how?" McKay had given up any pretense of resting and had pushed himself into a sitting position, the IV still between the fingers in his right hand, rolling the tube absentmindedly. "Seriously, Sheppard, if they've got some kind of weapon that can disable our fighters --"

God damn it, McKay, he was like a pit bull sometimes. Frustrated, Sheppard accepted he wasn't getting out of here without fessing up. Gritting his teeth, he explained, "I took fire, my wing was disintegrated and next thing I know, I was in the hands of the bad guys. Is that enough, or would you like to go back to the hive ship and dig out the black box?"

Carson's face transformed between surprise, to irritability, before stopping on concern as Sheppard finished his explanation.

"Bloody hell, Colonel, you were shot out of commission, lost consciousness and I'm only now hearing about it?" He picked up Sheppard's chart and waved down a nurse. "Get a CT scan on the colonel ASAP."

"I'm fine," Sheppard insisted again through clenched teeth. "I've got a headache, but last time I checked, that's fairly normal for having your head smashed against something hard." He realized what he said and sighed, letting his eyes close momentarily before trying again. "I was wearing a crash helmet."

Rodney snorted.

Carson rolled his eyes and agreed with McKay. "The insides of your brain sloshing against your skull won't be helped by a crash helmet. Odds are, you're fine, like you say, but Colonel, you owe me the right as your doctor to be the one to certify you as unharmed after that kind of trauma to the head, am I clear?"

Dejectedly, and too damn tired to argue further, Sheppard nodded, wincing at the pain radiating from the base of his skull into his spine. "Got it. Since I'm going to be here until after the scan, how about some Tylenol for the headache?"

"Nice try, Lad," Carson smiled and patted his knee. "But you know procedure. Twenty-four hours and barring any complications, you'll be free."

"Not going to happen, Doc. We've got a hive ship in orbit, a crippled Daedalus and we're missing one key person. If the scan's clean, I've got work to do."

Thrusting a set of scrubs at Sheppard, Carson shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Colonel. You know better. As CMO, my say is final, and I'll not send you off and have you dropping from a bleed on the brain. Be good, and I'll let Teyla visit you here with anything important enough to warrant it…"

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "And who decides if it's important enough?"

With a nonplussed smile, Beckett said, "Me, of course. Besides, Rodney will be kept here for most of that time as well and I'm sure you have plenty to catch up on after almost dying together, again."

As he walked away, Sheppard looked over at McKay, who'd settled back down on his bed, pulling his blanket over his own scrubs-clad body, no longer fiddling with his IV. Rodney shook his head. "Don't look at me that way, I'm not the one that kept the whole 'being blown up in my ship by the wraith' secret." His face scrunched. "I was more than forthcoming about being stunned and cocooned."

"Fine," Sheppard grated. He moved off the bed, slowly, and yanked his curtain around for privacy. Undressing and getting into the scrubs wasn't a fast process because every muscle hurt after being thrown about in the cockpit; bruises along his side from the harness. Yeah, once Carson saw those he was even more screwed.

Finally into scrubs, he put up with being wheeled off to the CT scan in a wheelchair, feeling ridiculous the whole way.

When Carson came to report the scan was clear he did let slip an, "I told you so."

"Aye, and I'd rather hear that then get a call for a medical emergency and finding you dead on the floor, if it's all the same. Now, you have another," Carson looked at his watch, "twenty hours. The bruises will fade, I'm prescribing some Motrin to help with the muscle aches and now that your scan is clear I'll give you something a little stronger than Tylenol for the headache. If anything comes up, I'll wake you, promise."

McKay was all ready sleeping, and most of the patients had been treated and dealt with. The wounded hadn't been as bad as they'd thought. Those that weren't dead, had small things like contusions and burns. Caldwell had reported about an hour ago that the Daedalus would be ready to leave in less than a day.

His headache was still pounding hard enough to make him feel slightly sick now, and the temptation to sleep it off was strong enough that he nodded. "All right, Doc. But you make sure if anything happens, I know about it."

"You'll be the second."

Narrowing his eyes, Sheppard held out his arm for the nurse to start the IV line. "First," he corrected Carson.

Beckett chuckled. "Teyla would have to tell me first, Son. Now get some rest." He hovered while the nurse finished, and injected the sedative/pain killer combination.

Rest. He could do that…at least for a little while.

To be continued…after Misbegotten!