The darkness ebbed away and light began to seep through his eyelids. Sheppard cracked his eyes open to slits and promptly closed them when his brain felt as though it was going to leak out of his ears. As sensation began to return to his body, he could feel that he was moving and where he was lying, vibrations coursed beneath him. He rocked slightly and with curiosity overriding any compulsions to remain inert and quiet, he opened his eyes fully to stare upwards. The ceiling above him moved by in a blur.
"Colonel?" A hand clamped down onto his shoulder and grounded him to reality.
He craned his neck round to see that he was lying on a gurney and was skilfully being manoeuvred down the hallways.
"Carson?" He was wracking his brain to try to remember how he had ended up in this situation. When his memory didn't provide sufficient explanation he asked, "What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
Sheppard shook his head and instantly regretted it, "No."
"He doesn't remember?" he heard a voice call out. He tried to move to see who it was.
"Get me closer."
Sheppard narrowed his eyes until, suddenly, a wheelchair occupied by Mckay and being pushed by one of the nurses, appeared in his peripheral.
"How can you not remember?" Mckay asked.
He snapped his fingers at the nurse that was pushing him, "Faster!" he shouted when the nurse began to slow.
"Mckay, are you trying to race me?" Sheppard asked.
"Yes, this was all an elaborate plan so that we could have a gurney versus wheelchair race," Mckay said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
"It wouldn't exactly be a fair race," Sheppard noted idly.
Sheppard tried to push himself up onto his elbow. Beckett promptly restrained the action and ensured he remained flat on his back.
"What is the last thing you remember?" Beckett asked. In his mind, he was already starting to list the number of tests that Sheppard would need. He'd definitely require a cat scan.
"I was in Rodney's lab," Sheppard provided thoughtfully, "And…." He remembered something, "Hey! You drew a picture of me with a noose around my neck."
"You remember that?" Mckay grumbled, "What about after that?" His attention was drawn elsewhere and he snapped his fingers, "Nurse, you need to push faster so we can keep up. I'd be better off pushing this thing myself."
"You're welcome too," said the nurse and she let go of the wheelchair.
Mckay disappeared from Sheppard's line of sight for a few seconds and then reappeared with the nurse pushing him again and him complaining, "Fine, okay. You push."
"You were handling a device," Beckett clarified for him, "You collapsed."
"I did?" Sheppard licked his lips, "I really don't remember."
"So you don't remember where the device took you?" Mckay asked.
Sheppard shook his head again.
They arrived at the infirmary and their conversation was cut off abruptly as Sheppard was taken to one end of the room and Mckay was taken to the other.
Mckay hopped out of the wheelchair before it came to a stop, getting his feet tangled in the footrests, and rushed over to where Beckett was adjusting the height on Sheppard's bed.
Sheppard was allowing Beckett to fuss, arms crossed in a relaxed pose, his eyes following Beckett as he retrieved his penlight.
Mckay decided to intervene before Beckett could start his battery tests.
"When I touched the device I was…." Mckay felt himself pale, "I saw one of your memories."
Sheppard's attention grabbed he swatted the penlight away from his eye, "What? How do you know that?"
"Rodney, I need to examine Colonel Sheppard and you're not helping matters. Go and sit on one of the other beds and I'll be over in a minute."
Mckay sighed and rolled his eyes, "Carson, I'm fine. I didn't pass out."
"But you were exposed to the device," Beckett argued.
"Hang on Doc," said Sheppard raising his hand.
"Colonel," Beckett warned.
"I know you need to examine me," Sheppard said. He raised his eyebrows as he asked Mckay, "What did you see?"
"I'm not really sure," Mckay admitted as he hooked a stool over with his foot and sat down.
Beckett was hovering, his hands resting on the bed railings with an air of uncertainty.
Sheppard turned to him with a pleading look. "Carson. Can you give us a minute?"
"I really need to check you over." Beckett knew that he was fighting a losing battle.
"I feel good right now," Sheppard said, "And this could be important."
Beckett sighed, "You have a few minutes."
Mckay and Sheppard watched as Beckett disappeared into his office and then turned their attention back on one another.
Sheppard knew that he would probably regret indulging Mckay. He didn't know how it would have been possible for Mckay to even witness, or be part of, one of his memories. What concerned him the most, if it was possible, was what memory had he seen. "Okay, what did you see?"
Mckay was tapping his feet on the floor. He was nervous. "Stark was there."
Sheppard gritted his teeth. His mind was running through simulations of what Mckay could have witnessed. Any memory involving Stark wasn't going to be a particularly enjoyable one.
"Could you be more specific?"
"I don't know where I was," he sighed, "But-"
"Rodney?"
Sheppard was beginning to get the sense that Mckay had seen something really bad. It had to be to have Mckay so clammed up.
"You were getting your ass kicked by a load of soldiers."
Sheppard chewed on his lip.
"It was in a shower room. I'm not sure where but-" Another deliberate pause.
Sheppard was sifting through his memories when he realised what Mckay must have witnessed. "Oh, was that it?"
"What do you mean was that it? Isn't that enough?"
Sheppard readjusted his position in the bed to get more comfortable, "Rodney. Forget about it. I have."
"What?" Mckay stood up quickly with a look of shock on his face.
Sheppard didn't know how to make him see it the way he did. In his mind, that memory had been viewed out of context. Of course, it was going to look bad.
"Look those guys, they were just letting off some steam."
"Letting off steam." Mckay repeated slowly, "They were kicking the shi-"
"Look. It happens. I'm over it."
"Colonel."
Stark sat down at the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down as Sheppard continued to prod at his food.
"Sir," he said deliberately straightening in his seat and feeling a distant pull on his sore ribs.
Stark met his eyes. "I want you to know that I spoke to the men responsible this morning. Nothing like that will happen again."
"I'm sure it won't," said Sheppard as he pushed his plate aside and reached for his glass of water.
"I meant what I said. No official complaints. It will slow up our objective."
"I won't be doing that, Sir," Sheppard clarified, "You said to expect resentment."
"Especially since some of those men are going to be on your team."
Sheppard met his CO's eyes and clenched the hand at his side, "They are?"
"Laraby," Stark said as he clasped his hands on top of the table, "He's one of the best explosive experts here, graduated first in his class. I wouldn't want what happened last night to ruin his whole career with a court martial."
Sheppard struggled to find words.
"Laraby was friends with Alex," he said.
Sheppard felt his hand shake and he put the glass of water down.
"He was?" he asked, knowing what Stark was referring to.
"So, as you can imagine. He felt he had just cause to do what he did."
"Having him on my team might be a problem then."
"It wont. Like I said, I talked to him." He went to stand, "Of course, if you wanted to level the playing field in a manner you thought fit, I would allow it. You need those men's respect and right now, you're not looking too respectful." He turned and walked off.
"What?" Mckay said incredulously.
"Mckay, lets just say that I dealt with it."
It was dark as he moved through the dorms. He could hear the patter of the rain outside, the odd rumble of thunder in the distance combined with the soft snores emanating from the beds.
Stark had told him to deal with his men and he wasn't going to miss a chance to reassert his authority.
Sheppard smiled, remembering similar events in his career that he was now going to instigate, and then banged the two metallic pans in his hands together as hard as he could.
He watched as the once contently sleeping figures jumped out of bed, sliding on their clothes in a move borne of practice. After a few minutes they were all standing stiffly besides their beds trying to blink the sleep from their eyes.
"What's going on?" asked Laraby, when he saw Sheppard standing in the centre of the room.
Sheppard placed his hands on his hips and in a tone laced with cheerfulness he said, "Fallout men. Training exercises in the quad." He turned and walked off, knowing that they had to follow.
He found himself thinking back to his own basic training. They would be woken in the middle of the night and called upon to follow their Commanding Officer. If you were told to follow, you were expected to run and this one time he had made sure that he was the first out of the dorm, running after his Training Instructor, keeping him within sight as he descended the steps of their block.
His TI had stopped suddenly, turned about face, and Sheppard had stopped just in time before colliding with the man.
His TI had looked him in the eye and in a loud voice he had shouted, "Can you read son?"
Sheppard had stood stiffly and said, "Yes, Sir!"
His TI had smiled and pointed at a notice that was pinned to the wall. In big letters it said 'Do not run. Please use the handrails."
For the remainder of basic training, whenever the recruits had left his block, he had had to stand there and repeat that phrase over and over until the last of his group had passed him. It had meant that as well as being humiliated everyday, he had also been the last to line up in the quad.
Outside, the rain had begun to fall harder, droplets of rain splattering the floor like tiny bombs, exploding on impact and merging to form muddy puddles.
"Okay," shouted Sheppard over the rain as he pulled the hood of his raincoat up over his head, "I want you to start running some laps."
They'd got away with their actions the following night, but not again, and this time they had to do what he asked.
He heard the chorus of 'Yes Sirs!' and watched as the men started to run, arms slick with rain, water falling down their faces in streams.
He pulled his coat tighter around himself, shoving his hands into his pockets as they ran.
Payback really was a bitch.
He pulled out a thermos from his pocket and drank hot coffee as they ran, bounding up and down on the balls of his feet, to keep himself warned up.
After an hour of continuous running, he got them to do press ups in the rain, followed by a strenuous regime of sit ups until all of them were panting and sweating hard. It wasn't an exercise in fitness, it was an exercise in authority. It was important that he established himself as a force not to be reckoned with. Stark had taught him that much over the years.
When he had had enough of standing in the rain, he shouted, "Line up men."
He walked down the line, stopping at Laraby and speaking loudly over the rain.
"I know why you did what you did," he said in an even voice, "I don't want it to happen again"
Laraby met his eyes, shivering in the rain, his short cropped hair soaked through, "Yes Sir!"
"There's something going on that's much bigger than you and I."
"Yes Sir," Laraby said in a flat voice.
"I mean it Lt. You're going to be following my orders and if you can't do that-"
"I'm sorry Sir," Laraby said loudly, "It won't happen again Sir."
"Have you got this out of your system?"
Laraby nodded.
Sheppard nodded and stepped back, turning his attention to the rest of his men, "I get it, you're bored, you're lonely, Lt Laraby suggests teaching me a lesson and most of you follow." He walked the length of the line, "I'm not going to take action this time, but if it ever happens again, I won't hesitate in getting you all court marshalled. Your careers don't have to end because of one mans stupid idea."
He looked up at the sky and watched the rain fall briefly, "Remember, I can make you do this every night if I want to. Luckily for you, I hate getting up in the middle of the night, to teach pointless lessons, so just take this as a warning."
He sighed and jammed his hands into his pockets. "Briefing at 0800 hours. I expect you to be there and check your attitudes at the door."
"Yes Sir!"
"Dismissed."
He stood in the rain for a further few minutes before following them in.
Tomorrow was the beginning of the end.
TBC
This is short, but it's to let you know that I'm still writing this story. Sorry, it's a long one so you'll have to piece together the bits of info as you go along :D