Note: This chapter contains a brief reference to my story Mom Always Told Me, but you don't have to have read it to understand.

The Bad Luck Charm – Chapter 5

Beckett was surprised and pleased to find Sheppard's door unlocked. Once the door opened, he poked his head into the darkened room. "Colonel?"

There was no movement from the lump of blanket on the bare mattress of the bed. He knew it had to be Sheppard, even though no body parts poked out from the covers, not even so much as a hair. Sighing, he moved quietly into the room, setting the food he'd brought on the small table before going to the bed.

Carson was startled into jumping when Sheppard suddenly sat straight up in bed, the blanket falling away from him as he moved. His eyes were open, but unseeing as he sat panting, beads of sweat leaving a trail as they ran down the side of his face.

"Colonel Sheppard, are you all right, lad?" Beckett sat on the edge of the bed, bringing Sheppard out of his daze. His head whipped around to look at Beckett and he sat staring for several moments, obviously disoriented.

"Doc?" he said unsurely as he looked around the room, trying to get his bearings.

"You're in your room, Colonel," said Beckett, trying to fill in the obvious gaps for the confused pilot. "I just stopped by on my way to the infirmary from breakfast to check on you. I've brought you a muffin and some juice if you're hungry."

John looked toward the table Carson had indicated. "Uh, thanks. Maybe in a minute." His breathing was beginning to slow and his shoulders had relaxed some.

"I didn't realize no one had replaced your bedding. You should have come back to the infirmary or called someone to help you."

John shook his head. "No, it's okay. I found a blanket." He looked absently around the room. "Could have used a pillow though. They took my pillow." John moved around the doctor to the edge of the bed and stood up. "Excuse me a sec, Doc." He disappeared into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later. Beckett had moved to sit at one of the chairs beside the table. John sat down in the other one and began unwrapping the muffin.

"Thanks for the food, Carson. I am kind of hungry."

"Not a problem. I know the meds we have you on make you loopy and I wasn't sure if you'd feel like walking to the mess hall."

"Not really," said John. "I'm not much of a breakfast eater anyway. Something light like this is usually good."

Carson watched him closely. "Was that a nightmare I walked in on?"

John stopped chewing a moment and looked up at Beckett before resuming, as if he'd been caught at something. "Kind of." He swallowed and hesitated a second. "That old woman from the village . . . she kept following me around screaming at me and trying to attack me. I didn't want to hurt her, so I kept trying to walk away. She just kept popping up." John shivered a bit before taking a drink of the orange juice.

"What kind of things was she doing?" asked Beckett, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I'm not sure . . . it's kind of fuzzy. I think she burned me . . . cut me with something . . . . . . weird stuff."

Beckett seemed to consider this. "Are you starting to worry that this curse . . . bad luck charm, as Rodney calls it, is real?"

John looked nervous as he twisted in his chair for several seconds before finding a position he could live with. "No, I don't think that's it. I think she just freaked me out the way she went nuts and screamed at me for a stupid gene. I mean the food poisoning and the allergy stuff is just coincidence. The allergy stuff hit a lot more people than just me."

Carson nodded and seemed to relax a little. "True."

John wiped the sweat from his forehead and downed the rest of his juice. "I wish it wasn't so hot in here. I froze all night and now I'm about to roast."

Carson frowned at him and leaned forward in his seat. "Colonel, it's not hot in here." He stood and walked over to Sheppard, placing the back of his hand to the pilot's forehead. "You feel a little warm. I can't figure out what's making your temperature go haywire like this. Did it start with the food poisoning?"

John shook his head. "No, before that. It started . . . " He looked up at Beckett with wide eyes. "It started about the time we got back from that planet. What if she did something to me? What if there's something in that ink or paint that soaks into your blood and, I don't know, does stuff to you?" John had instinctively put his hand to this chest to cover the mark.

Beckett could have kicked himself. He should have thought of that earlier. He'd let himself get distracted by Sheppard's emotional reaction to the encounter and Rodney's ranting about the bad luck charm. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I should have thought of that and had it checked out. I want you to come down the infirmary in a bit and let me get a new blood sample and maybe a sample of that mark. Judging from the timing, I'd say it's entirely possible that there may be something to your theory."

John finished his muffin and wadded the cellophane wrapper up, dumping it on the table. "I guess the other possibility is this is all in my mind?"

Beckett hesitated, but decided he'd better be honest. "It's possible that your subconscious is buying into the bad luck charm idea and causing the temperature fluctuations. People can actually feel sick or feel better in response to certain beliefs and thought processes. There is something to the old adage of the power of positive thinking, and the opposite can be equally true."

"Great, I'm not sure which to hope for. I've either been poisoned or I'm losing my mind."

Beckett laughed and leaned forward to pat Sheppard's arm. "Oh, it's not that bad, laddie. How's the itching this morning? Looks like your rash and hives issues have improved."

John noticed for the first time that the red welts and patches on his arms were not as angry looking, as well as being fewer in number. "Hey, you're right. Finally, some good news. The itching isn't too bad, as long as I keep myself distracted."

"Let me listen to your lungs once before I go." Beckett pulled his stethoscope out of his pocket.

John frowned at the doctor. "You take that thing to breakfast with you?"

"I take this thing everywhere," he replied as he put the earpieces in place and pulled John's shirt up.

Several deep breaths later, Beckett was satisfied and John was beginning to get light headed. "Can I get you anything?" asked the doctor as he stood to leave.

"I'm good. I'll come down in a little while, when I get myself going."

"Good enough. Remember to take your meds on time." Beckett moved to the door and opened it.

"Doc . . . thanks," Sheppard said sincerely. He didn't like the infirmary and he didn't like being sick or injured and he really hated being fussed over. But he trusted Beckett more than he'd ever trusted any doctor and he was truly grateful for the concerned care that was always given to him.

Beckett turned back to face his patient. "You're welcome, Colonel." His head dipped down in a small nod as a smile spread across his face. It was one thing to know your patients appreciated their care, but it was still nice to be told ever so often.

oOo

John sat up suddenly at the sound of someone pounding on the door. He'd been working on his computer earlier, trying to catch up with the mission reports he was behind on, and had apparently gone to sleep. John woke to find his head resting against his arm and drool forming a wet spot on the table. He wiped his mouth as the pounding resumed.

"Colonel, if you don't open the door in ten seconds, I'm letting myself in, so you'd better get decent."

John smiled at Rodney's threat and thought the door open to reveal the scientist with his fist in the air as he prepared to assault the door again. Rodney dropped his hand and pulled down on his shirt. "Well, it's about time," he said as he walked in the door. "What took you so long?"

John stifled a yawn before answering. "Sorry, guess I went to sleep doing mission reports."

Rodney plopped down in the chair beside him. "How ever did you manage that, after all, they are so interesting," he said sarcastically. He squirmed sideways in the chair and cocked his head slightly, trying to see the exposed area of John's chest.

"Put your head back on your shoulders, McKay, it's still there."

McKay sat back up and tried his best to look innocent. "I wasn't looking."

Sheppard cut his eyes sideways at the scientist as he shut his computer down. "Yeah, right. Is that all you came for?"

"Actually, colonel, I'm here on a mission of mercy. I came to see if you wanted to go to lunch."

"Well, I'm not sure what's merciful about that, but I am kind of hungry. I told Carson I'd come by the infirmary, but I can do that after we eat. Can you wait for me to shower and change?" John was just realizing he was still in the scrubs from yesterday and he was feeling sticky and grubby.

McKay sighed dramatically. "If you must and only if you hurry. No time for primping and such."

"All I want to do is wash off the sweat and put on some clean clothes." John frowned as he got up and walked over the small dresser. "That's assuming I can find some clean clothes." He began rummaging through the drawers.

"Have they not brought your stuff back to you yet?" asked Rodney. "Mine was delivered this morning."

"Haven't seen it," Sheppard replied, pulling a worn pair of sweats from the drawer. "I have pants . . . sort of." A few minutes later he came up with a t-shirt. He opened the top drawer to find one pair of boxers. The faded blue pair with the holes he'd already embarrassed himself in once. He was pretty sure he'd turned four shades of red when he'd been hauled to the infirmary injured and they'd stripped him down to his holey skivvies. Well, better than the alternative, he thought. Hopefully he wouldn't have to show them off this time.

"Be back in a sec," said Sheppard, disappearing into the bathroom.

Rodney grunted. "I doubt that."

When Sheppard returned just a few minutes later, McKay was pleasantly surprised. He squinted at the pilot, trying to read the phrase on the threadbare dark blue t-shirt. "Pain is weakness leaving the body." He looked up at Sheppard's serious face. "That may be the dumbest thing I've ever seen on a t-shirt."

"Not any dumber than I'm with genius," Sheppard deadpanned.

"Well, at least mine was accurate."

"Can we go now?" Sheppard didn't wait for an answer, but headed straight for the door. McKay sighed again and followed. They made their way to the outside walkway on their level, enjoying the mid-day sun and the pleasant temperature.

"Why do you have to see Carson? You're not sick with something new, are you?" asked McKay as he took one step sideways, away from Sheppard.

"No, McKay, it's safe to breathe in my presence. Something has my thermostat all out of whack. I'm always either hot or cold and it started shortly after we got back from that stupid planet. Carson wants to take some blood and maybe a tissue sample from the mark Karyan put on me to see if there could be some kind of chemical that's being absorbed through the skin."

"Oh, that's actually a good idea. I'm surprised I didn't think of it," said McKay.

"I thought you didn't do biological?"

Before McKay could reply, their attention was diverted by the sound of thumping and crashing in the adjacent corridor. Stopping beside the stairs leading to the lower levels, they watched the hall entrance with a bit of trepidation. Two marines suddenly erupted from the passage, scuffling across the open walkway in an out of control brawl.

Sheppard's face hardened in anger as soon as he realized what was happening and he began to step forward toward the moving struggle. "Hey!" he roared. "Knock it off and I mean knock it off right – "

He was cut off as the mass of intertwined, stumbling limbs suddenly veered sideways into him. He saw it coming at the last second and twisted in an effort to get out of the way, but not fast enough. The thrashing bodies of the marines bumped him soundly as he pivoted on one foot, sending him hurtling sideways. For one horrible moment he saw the stairs rushing up to meet him before a crushing instant of pain slid away into darkness.

oOo

Ronon rounded the corner and almost crashed into Teyla. Quick reflexes on both their parts was the only thing that prevented a collision.

"Ronon, I am sorry."

"No problem, it was just as much my fault as yours. I was just coming to find you. Thought I'd see if I could talk Sheppard into coming to the mess hall for lunch."

Teyla nodded. "That is a good idea. I believe he is somewhat embarrassed by the skin discoloration. He is probably more likely to leave his room if he is not alone."

"That's kind of what I was thinking." They walked along in silence for a moment before Ronon continued hesitantly. "What do you think about this curse Karyan put on Sheppard? Do you think it's real?"

Teyla considered his question for several seconds. "I believe that there are things we do not understand. The Ancestors possessed powers that would shock us to see used. We have both seen Colonel Sheppard use some of the Ancient devices in a way that seems strange and almost magical. I do not believe in curses as such, but I do believe that some may possess abilities that are beyond our knowledge and would thus seem to be very powerful."

Ronon grunted, but did not disagree. "I suppose I've seen some things I didn't understand over the years. Not understanding something breeds fear and intimidation."

"I agree." Teyla sighed sadly. "I wish Charin was still with us. I believe she told me stories when I was younger of such a curse as this, but I do not remember much of it. I do not even know if it was the same thing or if it carried a mark like the one placed on the colonel."

"What about someone else?"

"I cannot think of anyone, but I might ask . . . " Teyla's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of scuffling. They looked up to see two marines s come staggering out of a side corridor while struggling with one another. About the same time, they noticed McKay and Sheppard headed their way. As the soldiers came crashing between them and their teammates, Sheppard yelled at them and started to step forward. The two man wrestling match suddenly shifted sideways, crashing into Sheppard as he tried to twist away from them at the last minute. Mouths open, they watched as their team leader disappeared down the staircase behind him.

oOo

Elizabeth rushed down the corridor, wondering when the hallways had become so congested. Her frustration and worry built as it seemed people purposefully stood talking in such a way as to block the hall or walked slowly side by side. She dodged and weaved, muttering apologies as she bumped into people. What seemed like hours later, she finally rushed into the infirmary. Almost immediately, she spotted Carson talking to Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla and hurried to join them.

"I got here as soon as I could," she said breathlessly. "There seems to be an abnormal amount of hall traffic today."

Carson smiled and patted her arm. "It's all right, I was just about to update everyone on the colonel's condition. I'm afraid he has a nasty concussion. The scan doesn't show any sign of fracture, but he's still disoriented and having trouble remaining awake, so we'll be keeping a close eye on him. We put sixteen stitches in his head, where it looks like he hit the edge of one of the steps. It's a wonder he doesn't have a worse head injury than he does."

"So, the colonel will be all right?" asked Teyla.

"Aye, he should be. He also broke his right arm, fractured both the radius and ulna, and cracked a bone in his wrist. He'll not be too happy about that. Apparently he instinctively threw out his arm to catch himself, but when you're being knocked down a flight of stairs, that's a little more catching than our arms are made for. He'll be in a cast for a few weeks. He's also got quite a selection of bumps and bruises. He'll probably feel like a bus hit him by tomorrow."

"Well, actually two buses hit him. Buses in marine uniforms . . . idiots could have killed him." Rodney face was slightly flushed with anger as he clenched and unclenched his fists and shifted his weight back and forth.

"Buses?" asked Ronon.

"Large forms of ground transportation on their home planet," said Teyla, having encountered the expression before. The three people from Earth found it odd to have one alien explain Earth terms to another alien in their presence.

"What happened exactly?" asked Elizabeth, her face now showing anger as she returned her attention to the cause of John's fall.

"Two marines were fighting and they crashed into Sheppard, knocking him down the stairs," explained Ronon. "He was yelling at them, but I guess they didn't hear him."

"Where are they now?" asked Elizabeth.

"Major Lorne took them after we patched them up," said Carson. "And he was a might angry, so I don't think they'll be getting off lightly."

"They shouldn't," said Rodney. "He didn't need this right now, not on top of everything else."

Elizabeth's face softened and she widened her eyes in surprise. "Why Rodney, it sounds almost like you care." Teyla and Ronon grinned and exchanged a glance before looking back to Rodney.

"Well . . . of course I care. He's our teammate and . . . okay, he's my friend. There, I said it, are you happy?" Rodney grunted in annoyance as he glared at the others.

Teyla walked around to face Rodney and placed her hand on his shoulders. "As we all are friends." She leaned forward and Rodney just stood looking uncomfortable for a second before leaning in to touch his forehead to hers.

He jerked back rather quickly, shuffling his feet and looking at the floor. "So, can we see him?"

Carson sighed and shook his head. "Not for a while. We've still got to set his arm and get the cast on. We're trying to get the swelling to go down a bit first. He's a might restless and disoriented right now and I don't want to agitate him further. When we get finished with his arm and get him a wee bit more settled, you can have a few minutes with him."

"We'll wait, if you do not mind," said Teyla.

"Not at all," said Carson, having expected as much. "I'll come get you when we're ready, but it may be a while," he said apologetically. They watched him leave and then settled into the chairs, prepared to stay as long as it took.

TBC

Note: Rodney's t-shirt was seen in the episode Home from Season 1.