Getting his life back to normal wasn't going to be as simple as just returning to Atlantis, as much as John had hoped that would work. It was surreal to walk through the corridors knowing that for everyone else there only a few hours had passed. Hell, most people hadn't even known there was a problem. Although he did a get a few double-takes in the hallway when people realized that it was Colonel John Sheppard, military commander of Atlantis walking down the hallway with a full beard and in native dress.
All he really wanted was to go to his quarters and have a real shower and shave, put on his uniform, reacquaint himself with his city and with his life. Somehow he'd known it wasn't going to be that easy. Beckett's hand on his shoulder when they reached the transporter brought him up short.
"Come on, Doc," John said bitterly. "Let me just shower and change. I'll come straight to the infirmary when I'm done," he promised sincerely, hoping Carson didn't see the lie in his eyes.
The doctor must have seen something, or maybe he just knew the colonel all too well, because he shook his head.
"I'm afraid not, colonel." John tried to shake his arm free, but the doctor just gripped all the tighter. "Now, I left you alone in the jumper because I thought you needed a little time and space, but we really have no idea what exposure to a time dilation field might mean. You were not supposed to come out of there, it was supposed to be a one way trip. I just want to make sure you're alright."
"But you all went in and came out, too," he pointed out, knowing he sounded childish and not really caring. He just didn't want to go to the infirmary. Deep down inside he was afraid of what Carson would find.
"And they will come in for checks, too," Carson responded evenly, glaring at McKay when he opened his mouth to disagree. "But your exposure was much longer. And don't think I haven't noticed how you're favoring your right leg. You've got an injury you've been keeping to yourself, haven't you?"
"John, please," Elizabeth said softly. Up to this point she'd stayed mostly silent, letting McKay and the doctor run things, but now she stepped in. "We need to know that you're alright. Just go along with Carson, please."
Teyla and Ronon nodded their agreement. McKay just crossed his arms and looked guilty, as if everything that had happened to John once he stepped through the portal was his fault.
John nodded, defeated by the good will of his friends. They were all looking at him with such good intentions shining in their eyes and he didn't know how to tell them that he didn't want their consideration or their thoughtfulness. He just wanted things back the way he remembered them.
He had a feeling once Carson had him in the infirmary he wasn't getting out any time soon. He was still tired and achy from his last encounter with the beast, wounds he hadn't allowed Hedda to fully heal. Then there was the matter of his first encounter with the beast and the scars left by that. Yes, Carson was going to freak. Which meant a protracted stay in the infirmary and the rest of his friends would soon know about what he'd gone through in the 'sanctuary.'
Still he was tired and he couldn't think of any logical reason to escape Carson. He shrugged, and rubbed a hand through his hair, "At least let me take a shower and change clothes."
"Oh, aye, colonel," Carson said as he steered him into the transporter, the rest of his team and Elizabeth following along. "I'm fairly sure the nurses will be insisting on that."
His ordeal in the infirmary was as long and gruesome as John had feared. Carson ran every test known to medicine and some he might have made up on the spot. How did you test for the effects on the human body from a time dilation field? John did his best to not know, even though all of it happened to his body.
Still, three days later even Carson had to admit that he wasn't suffering any lasting affects from his time spent in the sanctuary. He complained greatly about the half-healed cracked ribs and the pulled groin muscle, but there was really nothing serious enough to keep a bored Sheppard in the infirmary. There was actually an audible sigh of relief when Carson arrived to release him.
"Now, Colonel," he began.
Sheppard held up a hand, "Yes, yes, I know, call you right away if I experience anything strange or out of the ordinary. Trust me, doc, you'll be my first call." John grinned at his friend, knowing that Carson was only overprotective because he cared so much.
Carson had the grace to look abashed, although he couldn't resist teasing, "Now, Colonel, perhaps I was a wee bit hasty in saying you could leave, I still have a test or two I could..."
John was up from the bed and heading to the door before Carson could finish. "Trust me, I'm fine, I'll call if there are any problems."
Of course it wasn't as simple as just escaping from the infirmary. John found Rodney standing outside the door, leaning against the wall. "Making an escape?" he asked with a grin.
"Actually, McKay, the good doc released me. Now barring any more calamities, I'm going to my quarters, get rid of this beard at last and put on real clothes." He took off down the hall hoping McKay would get the hint and leave him alone.
As usual, Rodney was oblivious and fell into step beside him, "So, no strange skips in time, no flashes forward or backwards?"
"Hate to disappoint you, McKay, but I'm fine."
Rodney flashed him a frown, "Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed? I'm just glad you're alright."
"I know that," John sighed. The doors at the transporter opened for them. John pushed the destination closest to his quarters and just like that, the doors at the other end opened for them. "It's all just so weird. I'm having a hard time getting my head around the fact that I was only gone for two hours. That's not even time enough for anyone to miss me."
Rodney glanced over at him, eyes narrowed, "Is that what this is about? Nobody missed you?"
"No. Yes. Hell... I don't know." John kept his eyes resolutely ahead as they walked. "I just know I missed you guys... a lot. I imagined all sorts of crazy things, that the Wraith had culled you and you couldn't come for me. Maybe you didn't want to come for me. I don't know. It was just... hard."
John knew he was revealing more of himself than he might normally, but he was still feeling raw and unsettled from his enforced stay in the sanctuary. He'd missed his friends, dammit. They'd reached his door and John thought it open.
"Sheppard," Rodney's hand stopped him from walking through. "I'm really sorry."
John blinked at him. "You're sorry? For what, McKay?"
"I should have checked the facts out more thoroughly before I let you go through that portal. Hell, I practically pushed you through. I just…"
"McKay, just stop now." John said harshly. Yeah, he'd wanted to blame Rodney, too, in those first days of his exile. He'd even hated the scientist, but he'd gotten past that. Now he had to figure out how to get Rodney past it. "Stuff happens, okay."
Rodney paused, mouth agape, just staring at him. "Stuff? You've just reduced everything that's happened to us here in the Pegasus Galaxy to 'stuff?'"
Sheppard smirked at him, it felt good to just listen to Rodney rant, "I'm a simple guy. Anyway, stuff happens. You came and got me," and Rodney would never know just how much it meant to John Sheppard that he'd done that. From what Carson had told him, Rodney had single-handedly bullied everyone into Sheppard's rescue. While everyone else had been standing around with 'their fingers in their ears,' Rodney had been pushing and pulling to keep people focused and moving, "before I was old and grey. I really appreciate that." He shifted not sure what else to say. "Listen, if you don't mind, I'd like to shower and shave…" he gestured uncertainly with a hand hoping Rodney would get the hint this time.
Rodney just took it as an invitation to come in. "I'll wait. I thought you might want to watch a movie or something. You do have the week off remember?"
He plopped himself down on John's couch, looking for all the world like he intended to stay. John sighed and let the door shut. "I may be awhile."
John's laptop was lying on the table in front of the couch. Rodney opened it, booting it up. "I'll keep myself amused," he assured Sheppard.
John just shook his head. He was too tired to argue with a determined McKay, so he just grabbed a change of clothes, along with the rest of what he needed. He went into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.
He could have shaved in the infirmary, but it hadn't felt right. It felt like he was finally getting rid of the last traces of his time in the sanctuary and he wanted to do it properly. Heightmeyer would probably have some fancy psycho babble for it. John just knew he wanted to do it in his own quarters, in his own bathroom.
He turned the water on and adjusted it until he found the temperature he was comfortable with – not too hot, but warm and soothing. He picked up the bundle, he'd brought in with his clothes. He didn't have an ordinary razor for this job. He thought it deserved something a little more traditional. He'd borrowed a shaving kit from one of the scientists with a straight razor and razor strop, it even included a brush for the soap.
He splashed his face with the warm water and spread soap over his beard. Picking up the razor, he admired its sharp edge before taking a careful swipe. The blade was just as sharp as it looked and it left a clean swath of skin in its path. He lost himself in the rhythm of shaving. It felt good to see John Sheppard emerging again in his mirror. He tilted his chin back and carefully placed the blade against his throat, ready to be done.
"John," the feminine voice startled him. His first thought was that it was Elizabeth or someone on his headset. Then he remembered that he wasn't wearing a headset. Besides the voice wasn't anyone from Atlantis. The voice was…
He paused with the blade at his throat, frozen when he saw her in the mirror standing behind him. Teer.
"So this is the Atlantis that you left us for?"
He could feel her hands on his shoulders, her warm breath ticked his ear as she leaned into him. She put her fingers over his and pulled down on the hand holding the razor. In the mirror he could see the blood that began to seep as she applied more and more pressure.
"Teer," he whispered, not daring to move.
Inexorably, she continued forcing his hand down and the blood began to truly flow, falling in a stream into the sink.
To be continued...