"Do you think that whatever he was hit with, is causing all this?"
That was Elizabeth's voice. John could tell he was in the infirmary again, from the sounds and smells of the place. He couldn't be bothered to open his eyes and check to be sure. He was so damn tired.
"I do believe so." That was Carson. "Although I didn't expect him to go wandering off in the night."
John felt a hand touch his arm, then away. Then Elizabeth said something, and he heard Carson add something else. The voices moved away, and he lost track of what they were saying.
John wasn't sure what was going on, but something had knocked him off his moors. He felt adrift, like he was drowning. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was him, or related to the weapon or whatever he'd been hit with. He remembered a flash of light. Maybe that was the weapon. Leaves. Blood, there on the floor.
Maybe Carson was right. He trusted Carson. Elizabeth as well. If they felt he was acting kind of wibbly wobbly, then maybe he was. He chuckled, knowing Rodney would have enjoyed the "wibbly wobbly" reference from Doctor Who.
Rodney.
Maybe what he was seeing really was just dreams.
Or maybe not.
x-x
John woke to see Teyla sitting in the chair beside his bed. She seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, and he suddenly realized that the conversation she was having was with him. "I wish I could have…" She stopped, and looked down. She dragged in a deep breath.
"Not your fault," John said, knowing what the conversation was about, even if he'd missed the beginning of it. Rodney. He understood the sense of guilt. He felt like he himself should have done way more, should be doing more now. Closing his eyes, he asked, "How long has he been gone?"
It was dark as hell, other than the light making its dim way down from the hatchway overhead. He felt for his flashlight, but there was nothing. Hearing the woman's shuffling steps going away from him, he moved further into the space, feeling with his feet as he made each step. This felt like a stupid horror movie. Next thing would be something grabbing him by the ankle.
John hesitated. He knew he couldn't actually be here. That he had to be back on Atlantis. That he was dreaming again, somehow dreaming that he was in Rodney's head, experiencing what Rodney had experienced just after he'd been captured. But it all felt so real. Even if it was a dream, obviously his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Calming himself deliberately, he focused, forcing himself to stay in the moment.
The only sounds he could hear were his own breathing, the sounds of his feet as he moved in the darkness. He stood there, listening. He thought he heard… Yes, that was that woman down here moving off, people above him coming down that ladder. He realized that, now that his eyes had better adjusted to the low level of light, perhaps it wasn't quite as dark ahead of him. Slowly, with a hand on the wall beside him as guide, he started walking again. The wall was slimy under his fingers. He could smell the damp. He was probably going to catch something gross down here, end up sick. That was all he needed.
He realized he was starting to see things around him – the wall, the floor. Light. He squinted. Moving cautiously, he went around a corner.
John felt someone shake his arm, and he opened his eyes to see Teyla standing there. "Are you okay?"
Good question. He was dreaming and, maybe, not dreaming. What he was seeing might be what Rodney had seen. If it was, then he knew where Rodney had gone.
When John didn't respond, Teyla's brow wrinkled in worry. "Maybe I should get Carson…"
"I'm seeing… stuff," John finally said. He felt that, if anyone might understand what he meant, it would be Teyla, who also sometimes 'saw stuff'. He let his eyes fall shut.
He felt someone come up behind him, then he was shoved around that corner. The room was bright enough that he could see -
"Dreaming and not dreaming," he said, lifting a hand and trailing it above him.
"What are you seeing?" Teyla asked, her voice soft.
"Rodney and not Rodney," John said, opening his eyes and turning his head so he could see Teyla again. "Is Ronon still sick?"
"No," Teyla said with a tight smile. "He's quite well now."
John pushed himself up on an elbow. "You guys need to come with me."
Teyla placed a hand on his arm. "You aren't ready –"
John cut across her. "We need to go get him. I can see him." As Teyla's eyes widened, he added, "You don't believe me."
"You don't normally have visions," Teyla said. Her eyes searched the infirmary, obviously looking for help.
John tried to push himself to a seat. "You do, though," he said in response. He knew she'd had visions, or something like them, in the past, or maybe now. "So you know." The blanket tumbled to the ground, and he nearly followed it, but for a hand – Teyla – suddenly grabbing him by the shoulder.
"Please, Teyla," he said. "Just. Tell Elizabeth. Dr. Weir," he said, not sure if he was making sense. He probably looked crazy, completely off his rocker, but he needed to keep going, to get someone to believe him, and Teyla, with her own history, was his one best shot. "You have to go back and check," because he knew – he knew Rodney was still down there. "I can see where he is." He shook his head. "Or where he was." He was getting frantic, which wasn't helping his case. He felt hands pressing him back, saw some sort of syringe in his peripheral vision, and realized he didn't have much time. He met Teyla's eye, and he tried hard to focus, to get this out as clearly as he could. "At the back of the room, under the leaves, there's a trap door. It's dark, but there's blood, so you'll know, he did it so you could see. Under there, there's a room…" and that's all he got out before the world swept away from him.