Elizabeth stood in the doorway leading to a more isolated part of the infirmary. It wasn't isolated in that it was far away. It was just a little more private, a smaller space near Beckett's office. He didn't want prying eyes peeking in at the Colonel. The whole base knew what happened and there was a lot of curiosity and whispering. He didn't want it interfering with his patient's recovery.

The bed head was raised to about sixty degrees. She watched for several seconds. His face was relaxed, but he stared blankly at his PDA. He suddenly frowned, turned the PDA off and dropped it on the bedside cabinet. He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck with both hands, wincing when the IV line on his right hand pulled tight. Elizabeth waited until he dropped his arms before she entered. She saw several leads trailing from the scrubs top to the cardiac monitor, and electrodes were pressed in various places on his head.

"Hey! Feel up to a visitor?" The carefully practiced smile of the experienced treaty negotiator appeared.

He stared at her without recognition for a moment before smiling. She saw his left hand slowly grip the rail of the bed. "Sure. What's up?"

"Just stopped by to say hello." Elizabeth pulled over a chair and sat next to his bed. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Sheppard glanced away then looked at her again.

"I'm sure Carson will figure this out quickly." She put on what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "It's probably nothing serious."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, obviously not convinced.

"I…I'm sorry." She was disappointed. "I know I need to work on my bedside manner."

"It's okay." He chuckled.

"John, they are working on it." Her voice was now very earnest.

"I know." He stared at her for a moment again before saying more. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

"John." Elizabeth was taken aback. This was completely unexpected. She laid her hand on his. He tensed but did not move. "I could have traded Ladon for you before the first feeding. I could have stopped it before it started."

"Kolya always intended to kill me, Elizabeth. He said it isn't personal, but it is." He looked at her hand without seeing it and swallowed hard. "Kolya wants both Ladon and me dead. Maybe how fast I died depended on what you did. But, he was going to kill me. Don't doubt it."

"How could he? We wouldn't have handed over Ladon unless you were alive." She went cold at the thought that followed her assertion.

"He probably would have let the Wraith feed until I was almost dead." He frowned and absentmindedly touched his chest. He seemed to drift away for a few seconds then remembered she was there. "Look, we have half a chance that Ladon will turn out to be a reliable ally. Kolya would have been as bad, if not worse, than Cowen."

"John, I came here to apologize to you, not the other way around."

"Elizabeth, you don't have anything to apologize for. You did the right thing. It was the only thing you could do."

She couldn't forgive herself as easily. "John, I'm not…"

----------

A door opened over his left shoulder. Sheppard turned his head to look.

What the hell? Oh, God, no. A Wraith, not a Wraith. Think, John. Think.

"Oh, my God." Her voice was barely audible over the speaker.

---------

Sheppard suddenly grabbed the other bed rail with his right hand and pushed himself into the mattress. He began to shake from the tension in every muscle of his body.

"Carson!" Elizabeth stood up. She was afraid to touch him. "John? Can you hear me?"

His back arched and eyes closed tightly. His breaths were deep and each one shuddered with the effort to control them. A cold sweat appeared on skin. The cardiac monitor beeped in alarm.

----------

"What was that?" McKay asked everyone and no-one in particular. "Did the lights just flicker?"

The three technicians shrugged and looked around. The bravest of them responded.

"Yes, Dr. McKay. Don't know why though."

McKay scowled at him. "Well, shouldn't you find out?"

"Yes, Sir." The young man nodded vigorously and hurried out the door. The others followed when they saw their boss eyeing them, too.

----------

"What happened?" Beckett rushed into the room. He looked at Sheppard then glanced at the monitor. It showed his heart rate was climbing fast.

"I don't know. We were talking and he…" She watched helplessly, just like she did when the Wraith was feeding.

Beckett was looking from Sheppard to the monitor and back. He spoke quietly, but firmly. "Colonel, can you hear me? John?"

Sheppard's straining muscles suddenly began to relax. Beckett and Elizabeth waited anxiously as his breathing and heart rate returned to normal. After a minute or two, Sheppard released the bed rails and looked around. When he saw them, he put his hands over his face.

He hissed through clenched teeth. "Dammit."

Beckett gently rested his hand on his patient's shoulder. Sheppard flinched at the touch then blinked at the Doctor. His eyes didn't seem to be focusing well.

"John, are you okay?" Elizabeth looked closely at him then at Beckett.

"Yeah. Yeah. I think so." Sheppard answered hoarsely. "What the hell is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Beckett pulled his stethoscope out of his lab coat pocket, but took his eyes off his patient only long enough to check the monitor.

Sheppard rubbed his face with his hands then looked at Beckett and Elizabeth. He exhaled heavily and shook his head. He was struggling to regain control. "For a moment, I thought I was back..."

"Back where?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Never mind. It was nothing."

"Just breathe for me." Beckett put on the stethoscope and listened to Sheppard's heart and lungs. After taking it off again, he peered closely at the Colonel. "What was it?"

He looked frightened. "You need to scan me for nanties."

Beckett was startled. "Nanites?"

"Yeah. Something's wrong." Sheppard was looking down at his hands. "I keep seeing things. Well, not only seeing them, but hearing them and everything."

"What kind of things?"

"I'm not sure. I…things from my past. At least, it seems like…they're so real. It's like I'm reliving stuff all over again. What if it's the nanites causing it? How do I know any of it is real?"

Elizabeth and Beckett exchanged alarmed glances.

"Listen to me, John." Becket put his hand on his shoulder. "We did two thorough scans after you went into Elizabeth's isolation tent. I did another one yesterday. There are no nanites in your system. None."

Sheppard took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet the Doctor's. "You're sure?"

"I am one hundred percent sure. Okay?" Beckett replied.

"Then, what the hell is going on in my head?"

Elizabeth stood quietly throughout the exchange. Mention of the nanites sent chills up her spine. She could see Sheppard was desperately trying to focus on Beckett.

Beckett glanced up at her before answering. "Remember I told you that the Wraith must have injected a protein into you when he restored you? The affect of the chemical produced by the reaction between it and the enzyme might be causing you to have hallucinations."

"They don't feel like hallucinations, Carson. They're more like memories. I felt like I was there again, in Kolya's prison. Everything was the same, the sound, the smell, everything. It isn't the first time today that it's happened. It's like I'm reliving events from my past, down to the tiniest detail."

Sheppard's left fingertips pressed his temple. His hand suddenly stopped moving. His face registered alarm. He looked from Beckett to Elizabeth. "What if they are hallucinations? Is any of this real?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Beckett grabbed his shoulder. "John, you are not hallucinating."

Sheppard snorted skeptically. "How do I know you're not part of it?"

"Well, we're not. I'm sure I'd know if I was a figment of your imagination." Beckett replied dryly.

"Then, why am I suddenly going into time warps?"

Beckett chewed his lip for a moment. ""It may be this substance is acting on the areas of the brain that process and store memories. You said you're experiencing them as if you're there, right?"

Sheppard nodded. He was still breathing as if he had been running hard and the monitor showed his pulse rate was nearer to normal but remained elevated.

"So real, I can taste them." He thought of the acid taste in his mouth after the Wraith fed and was there now.

"Okay, then it seems that this chemical is disrupting the brain's ability to keep that information contained. It's…it's…" Beckett searched for the right words. "To put it very, very simply, it may be acting like a potent truth serum. Only this one is letting your life spill out without asking for it. I still don't have all the test results, but this will give us a direction."

"You can just knock me out for a while, can't you? I mean, until this stuff is out of my system." Sheppard looked hopefully at the Doctor, who hesitated. His eyes narrowed.

Beckett shook his head. "We're working on it, but, to be honest, I don't think so. I have no idea how the chemical being released into your system might interact with our drugs. Preliminary tests indicate that it could be very dangerous to administer even the mildest of sedatives. John, I'm sorry."

Sheppard looked away and thought for several seconds. His hands were almost convulsively grabbing at the blanket. He looked back at Beckett. "Okay. How much of this stuff is in me? How long will it last?"

"I don't know, Son. Your body is breaking down the substance slowly so it could be a couple of days." Beckett glanced at Elizabeth again. It was difficult to watch his friend's distress. "I should know more in a little while. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Carson." Sheppard nodded then closed his eyes. His hands found the bedrails again and clutched them tightly. They could see he was deeply shaken.

Beckett looked at Elizabeth and indicated the door. He had to clear his throat to speak. "I want you to rest for a few minutes. I'll be right back."

----------

"Memories? How can this be affecting his memories like that?" Elizabeth asked when they got back to Beckett's office.

"This is not my specialty, Elizabeth, but as with much to do with the brain, we know little about how memory works. It was long thought that memory was stored in a particular area of the brain. That theory has changed in recent years. It is now believed that many areas of the brain are involved in both long and short term memory." Beckett laid the data pad on his desk. "This substance is somehow interfering with it. I just don't know enough about what's happening yet."

She looked back at the door. "So, there's nothing you can do?"

Beckett compressed his lips and slowly shook his head. "Well, at least now I know what some of the side effects are. Until we can come up with something to counteract this substance, no, there is nothing we can do. John may have to wait until his body rids itself of this stuff and hope there are no other side effects."

They heard a crash from Sheppard's room and the monitor began to beep loudly. When they ran in, they found him sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. There was blood across the bed and Sheppard's scrubs. His right hand gripped the rail, blood dripping from where the IV needle had been pulled out. The left clutched the edge of the mattress. He was breathing fast and deep again and seemed oblivious to their arrival.

"Colonel?" Beckett rushed to stand in front of him. He kicked away a tray that had been knocked off a nearby cabinet and grabbed a folded towel from the same cabinet. He pressed the towel onto Sheppard's bleeding hand as he reached out to turn off the squealing monitor. "The IV's been pulled out."

One of the nurses hurried in, relieving Beckett of the towel so that he could pull on gloves. They carefully tried to pry his hands from the bed but the Colonel just tightened his grip.

"He won't let go, Doctor." The nurse whispered as she held the towel in place.

"Just keep the pressure on, Connie." Beckett instructed her. He looked at Sheppard. "John? Listen to me. I need for you to let go. John, can you hear me? You have to let go."

They waited for several seconds, but Sheppard didn't seem to hear anything going on around him. He was engulfed in whatever was going on in his mind.

"Damn. I should never have left him alone. We have to break through this. Talk to him, Elizabeth." Beckett turned to the nurse and indicated the bleeding hand. "Get something to bandage this."

Elizabeth put her hand on his arm from the other side of the bed. She didn't think it possible, but he tensed even more with her touch. Beckett gestured for her to come closer. She was careful to keep her hand on him as she moved around the end of the bed to stand in front of him.

"John, listen to me. We're here. Please listen." Her voice was not much above a whisper, but it was filled with urgency. "When I was succumbing to the nanites, it was your voice I heard. You got through to me in that nightmare. You made it through their influence and the world they constructed for me and you showed me the way out."

She paused, searching his face for signs of comprehension but found none. Elizabeth took a deep breath and tried again.

"John, I hope you can hear me. If you can, please open your eyes." She glanced at Beckett, who nodded. "Carson told me what you did. They told me you were the only one who believed I could survive. You risked your life by coming into isolation to help me. Please listen to me. We're here."

She felt a slight relaxation in the muscles under her hand. He suddenly blinked and looked at her.

"Worth it." His eyes closed again and he began to crumple. They barely caught him before he slid off the bed.

"Connie!" Beckett shouted.

The nurse rushed back into the room, and, seeing them holding the unconscious man, set down tray she carried and came over to help. They quickly got him back onto the bed. Elizabeth moved back to let Beckett and the nurse do their jobs. Connie concentrated on the still bleeding hand while Beckett checked the monitor. He reattached two leads that had come loose. After he gently lifted each of his Sheppard's eyelids and flicked the penlight across them, Beckett looked up at Elizabeth.

"How is he?" Elizabeth held herself as if she was cold. She looked from him to Sheppard then back.

"He's stabilizing, but…." He looked back at Sheppard. "Give me about an hour."

----------

McKay tapped his transceiver. "Dr. Zelenka, this is McKay."

"This is Zelenka."

"What the hell is going on?" McKay looked around his dimly lit lab. This wasn't just a flicker like earlier. Something was definitely wrong. He got up and headed for the door.

----------

"Good evening, Captain!" The voice was not even remotely familiar and more than a little annoying.

"Mmmm. Where'm I?" He opened his eyes a fraction. Even the low light in the room was too bright. Was that me? Sound strange "Who're you?"

"Lt. Evans, Sir. You're in Wilford Hall." She was fuzzy. "Col. Dandridge is on the way, Captain."

"Wilford?" Wilford Hall? Hospital? Why the hell does everything hurt? What the…? He tried to move. "Ow!"

"Capt. Sheppard! I'm happy to see you're awake. How are you feeling?" Dandridge took his patient's chart from Evans and looked it over as he spoke. He was fuzzy, too.

"Wha' happened?" Wilford Hall? Why the hell am I in here? Sheppard tried to open his eyes more fully and look around. It was a hospital room, institutionally sterile. He saw the Doctor's rank, a full Colonel. "Sir."

"Well, from what I hear, you performed a maneuver that isn't in the books and the designers say can't be done." Dandridge leaned over and gently pressed the diaphragm of his stethoscope to Sheppard's chest. He listened for several seconds then straightened again. "How are you feeling? Do you want anything for the pain?"

Feeling? Pain? Huh. The head of the bed was slightly raised. He looked down and saw his right leg in a cast and his right forearm and hand in a brace. His head hurt like hell, too. "Like crap. No. Sir."

"Any dizziness, nausea?"

"No. What happened?"

"It'll come back." The Doctor pulled over a chair and sat down. He held a glass of water for Sheppard to sip. When he turned back from setting it on the bedside table, his face was serious. "Your Eagle had engine failure on final approach. From what I've heard, you managed a minor miracle when you avoided Methodist Hospital and the Southwest Research Institute, as well as God knows how many homes before you crashed."

"Crashed?" I crashed? When?

"Like I said, you had engine failure. Well, actually, one engine pretty much blew out and did significant damage to the other. The investigators are still analyzing the flight data recorder and putting all the pieces together, but, yes, your F-15 crashed. You were able to fly her out towards Castroville and put her into an empty field."

"Oh." That must have gone over well. At least the old man isn't here. God, he's probably on his way. He tried to sit up. The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder. He needed minimal pressure to keep Sheppard down.

"Hold on, Captain. Just take it easy." Dandridge put on a pair of glasses and began to read Sheppard's chart. "You ejected well below the safe minimum altitude. The result being, you have a fairly severe concussion, broken right tibia and fibula, three broken and a couple of cracked ribs, a cracked right radius and multiple lacerations, abrasions and contusions."

"Oh." Way to go, John. Way to go.

The Doctor set the chart on the bedside cabinet, his mouth twisted in a wry smile. "To sum it up, you're lucky to be alive and you are going to be here for a while. So, relax."

"What time is it?" Sheppard frowned at his bare left wrist. My watch is gone. Lucky to be alive? Wait until the Colonel gets here.

"Twenty-one-oh-five. But, you should ask what day it is. You've been drifting in and out for more than two days, Son." The now fuzzier Doctor smiled gently. "Why don't you get some sleep? We'll talk again in the morning."

----------

Sheppard opened his eyes for a moment. He glimpsed someone in scrubs standing next to the bed, adjusting the flow on the IV. The distinct smell peculiar to hospitals and infirmaries everywhere, registered as his eyes closed again.

----------

Sheppard cautiously opened his eyes again. Bad move. What was that smell? Hospital. Right. Oh, crap, that's right. Wilford Hall.

"Captain! You're awake." A young man was standing next to the bed, replacing one of the two IV bags. He adjusted the flow then looked back at Sheppard. "I'll fetch Col. Dandridge."

The young man disappeared. Sheppard looked around the room. His vision was marginally clearer today. Morning? Night? Where the hell is my watch?

A vaguely familiar man in a lab coat entered the room. He was tall, African-American and had close cropped graying hair. He smiled warmly.

"Good morning, Captain. I'm afraid your watch was broken in the accident." Dandridge pulled the chair up and sat down next to the bed. He pulled a penlight out of his pocket. "Sorry. I need to take a look."

The Doctor gently lifted each of Sheppard's eyelids and flicked the light across his eyes. He then pulled out his stethoscope and listened to his patient's heart and lungs. He folded up the stethoscope and pushed it back into the pocket.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"Still crappy." His voice cracked. Was that me? "Sir."

Dandridge passed him the cup of water. Sheppard held it with a shaky hand and gratefully took a mouthful. He let it slowly trickle down his dry throat then swallowed another mouthful.

"It'll get better. We're going to get you up in a little while, but do you feel like something to eat first?" Dandridge looked over his reading glasses at Sheppard, expression hopeful. Entirely too cheerful.

"Col. Dandridge?" The young man was back and was smiling. "Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but Capt. Sheppard has a visitor."

The Doctor stood up as an Air Force Colonel entered. He was resplendent in his crisp, by the book uniform, hat tucked properly under his left arm along with a large envelope. Out of the corner of his eye the Doctor noticed his patient tense. He saw a resemblance between them that was unmistakable, but there was a discernable lack of the warmth and concern that should be there.

"Col. Dandridge?" The new arrival stood stiffly just inside the door, gaze firmly fixed on the Doctor.

Dandridge picked up the chart and stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "Yes. Col. Sheppard, I take it?"

"Yes." He briefly took the Doctor's hand.

Great. Just great.

"Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Your son is doing well, better than he should be, actually." Dandridge glanced back at Sheppard, whose eyes were fixed on his Father. He saw the young man's face was set as if he were expecting something bad.

"Thank you. Can I talk to him alone?" The Colonel now turned toward the bed.

"I think a few minutes wouldn't hurt." Dandridge nodded and walked out the door.

"Way to go, John." Here it comes. The elder Sheppard's voice was controlled. No yelling, just quiet, but full of disappointment. Why the hell did he come all the way from DC if I'm such a screw-up?

"Dad…"

"That's Sir, Captain." Just keep your mouth shut. "You just had to be a cowboy again, didn't you?"

Cowboy? Have I done something I don't remember? Did that knock on the head do more damage than they're telling me?

"Sir?"

"Did I give you permission to speak?"

Sheppard felt the throbbing in his head intensify. His eyes slid to a point beyond the Colonel's right ear. Just keep quiet and get it over with. He saw the Doctor in the door way. Damn. Stay out of it.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." Col. Sheppard's voice now had anger in it. The iron control was slipping. Why the hell is he so pissed? "You just couldn't do something as simple as land an F-15, could you? Just had to make a mess of things again, didn't you?"

Bingo!

"Well, you've done it this time. Pilots that screw up like this don't get very far in the Air Force."

Dandridge came back into the room. "Colonel? Can I talk to you, please?"

The man continued to glare at his son. "I may not have the influence to have you discharged, but I can make sure you don't fly another thirty million dollar aircraft into the ground."

"Excuse me." Dandridge walked around Col. Sheppard to stand near the bed. "Colonel, I must ask you to…"

The elder Sheppard glanced at Dandridge. He took a step toward the foot of the bed and dropped the envelope on it. "Here are your orders. You've been reassigned. From now on, you fly Pave Hawks."

Sheppard felt the world fall from beneath him as his Father walked out.

----------