Sheppard slowly weaved his way out of the darkness and back into the headache inducing light of consciousness. He opened his eyes slowly and saw a blurred form sitting across from him, hunched over and watching his tentative journey back into reality.
Sheppard licked his lips and swallowed before forming words that came out weak and far away sounding, "Rodney?" he questioned.
A face appeared over his, the features coming into view sharply and abruptly. Sheppard sucked in a painful breath through his teeth as recognition dawned, "Colonel Stark."
Stark continued to hover over him, his head inclined so close that when he spoke Sheppard could feel his hair moving from the force of his breath.
"Colonel Sheppard. It's good to have you back with us."
Sheppard strained under the covers and gasped when he felt the distinct pull on aching and abused muscles.
Stark straightened up and rested his manicured hands on the bed railings, "How are you feeling?"
Sheppard placed a hand onto his stomach and closed his eyes briefly to adjust to the pain. His fingers felt heavy and he realised that he had pulse ox equipment attached to him, as well as an I.V line.
"Where am I?" Sheppard asked on looking towards a window and seeing dark skies rolling past outside. Last he remembered Afghanistan had had crisp blue skies the morning of his doomed mission.
Stark cleared his throat loudly and glanced towards the window before speaking in an even voice, "You're at Peterson Air Force Base Infirmary."
"Colorado?" Sheppard asked feeling the wooziness of sleep still clinging onto him.
"Yes," Stark replied quickly in a clipped voice, "You had some internal injuries that needed attending to."
Sheppard had been sure that Stark would abandon him and leave him to die on his office floor.
"So they shipped me home?" Sheppard asked numbly, "How long have I been out?"
"Three days," Stark stated in what sounded like an irritated voice.
"Three?" Sheppard attempted to get up onto his elbows, but found Stark's hand upon his chest restraining his movement.
"The committee will want to talk to you when you're fit enough, to discuss what happened on your assignment."
Sheppard cringed. The failed assignment.
He narrowed his eyes and settled back onto the pillow, "Don't worry. I'll give them the truth."
"I did the best for everyone concerned," Stark said in a low voice.
"You are responsible for the deaths of four men," Sheppard admonished.
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Mckay had been hunched over his laptop when Sheppard started to show signs of alertness.
He started talking, mumbling in his sleep and shifting in the bed as if he was agitated and uncomfortable. His face was creased as he slurred and kicked out and shuffled under the covers.
Mckay placed his Laptop aside and slowly moved towards the bed with an edge of hesitance.
Sheppard shouted out suddenly and his hand flew up and struck Mckay in the side.
"Ow!"
"No!….." he mumbled, "You're responsible……not me…."
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"Because of you I never progressed as I should have. You think I like being a sixty year old Colonel, pushing paper in a tiny office?" Stark said as he stepped back and ran a hand through his close-cropped hair.
Sheppard sat up, intermittently grunting in pain, and edged backwards until he was comfortable, mindful of his stomach and his broken ribs, "You know they were taking too long with extraction plans."
"You told me that you could get them out… that's why I let you go dammit!" Stark swore as he paced.
"You waited too long," Sheppard said, flinching when he twisted too much, "I lied for you back then. I did what you asked. Said I had defied your orders and gone it alone……"
"But they still held me responsible for your actions." Stark sighed and walked over to the bed.
Sheppard was tired, his head was hurting, his chest pulsated with pain and he just wanted this hell to end.
"What do you want from me Sir?"
Stark met his eyes with a cold stare and stated, "I want you to lie for me again."
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"Carson!" Mckay called out as he held down Sheppard's flailing arm, "Carson!"
Beckett appeared looking flustered and tired and asked, "What's wrong?"
"I don't know, that's why I called for you," Mckay snapped as Sheppard bucked and groaned in his sleep.
Beckett took out his penlight and prised Sheppard's eyes open to look at his pupils. As soon as his fingers brushed Sheppard's skin, he could feel the heat radiating off it and see the thin film of sweat that was covering his face.
"What's wrong with him?" Mckay asked as Sheppard's eyes slid open for the briefest of moments.
"Looks like he's running a fever," Beckett said pulling the covers off Sheppard's body.
"What are you doing?" Mckay babbled as Sheppard squirmed under his grip.
"I'm checking he hasn't developed an infection from his wound," Beckett said as he untied the sides of Sheppard's gown.
"No!" Sheppard cried out.
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"No."
"You owe me," Stark pleaded.
"No," Sheppard replied adamantly.
"If this gets out…." Stark looked deflated and old.
He was getting angry, his usually composed demeanour was falling away and instead he was wringing his hands and there was a bead of sweat on his hairline.
"If what gets out?"
Sheppard and Stark turned to see Colonel Caldwell standing in the doorway of Sheppard's private room, hands on hips, face stern, a file tucked under his arm.
Sheppard eased back onto the bed and looked between Stark and Caldwell feeling some of his own stress ebb away.
"Colonel, good to see you awake," Caldwell said as he entered the room.
Sheppard smiled and glanced over to Stark.
"Am I interrupting something here?" Caldwell asked shooting Stark a look.
"No," Stark said smoothing down his uniform and wiping a hand across his forehead.
"Well, I've come to inform Colonel Sheppard that he will be transferred to the SGC later today for his secondary care."
Sheppard felt a wave of relief wash over him.
"Well," Stark said with a firm nod, "I'll accompany him."
Caldwell barely concealed a wry smile, "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
Stark spluttered out a laugh.
"Why?" he asked.
"You have insufficient clearance."
Stark sighed, "I have been working with the SGC's committee on a private matter. I think I have clearance."
Sheppard watched the two men from his bed, feeling tired and washed out and wanting nothing more than to be able to sleep.
"Well if you did, you don't now," Caldwell said passing Stark his file.
Stark pursed his lips and smiled embarrassedly.
"Sheppard?"
Sheppard shrugged.
"What is this?"
"I've been instructed to issue you with your DD-214."
Stark took the file and flicked through the pages while muttering under his breath.
"What?"
"You are being honourably discharged from the United States Air Force due to fulfilment of service obligation."
Stark looked from Sheppard to Cadlwell and then back again, "I don't understand."
Caldwell chewed the inside of his lip and then said, "I'll supervise that transfer. I'll be right back."
Stark was standing silently in the centre of the room, staring at the file in front of him with a look of utter disbelief.
"I guess I don't have to lie for you anymore," Sheppard said.
It was the worse thing that could have happened to Stark.
Honourable discharge without reaching his promotion.
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Sheppard awoke suddenly. He sat bolt upright, clinging onto the guard rails of his infirmary bed with a white knuckle grip and panting in and out with heavy breaths. He felt unsufferably hot and suffocated and kicked off the covers.
"Stark!" he called out in an angry voice, "Stark you bastard!"
The infirmary was dark and Sheppard felt confused.
Pain.
His side hurt and he vaguely recalled being shot, but his mind was so fraught he couldn't remember the circumstances.
"Hey!" he called out in the darkness, "Hey!"
For a while it seemed like nobody would respond to his calls.
"Colonel, what's all this racket about?" Beckett asked as he ran into the infirmary.
Sheppard moved towards the edge of the bed, "I have to…..I have to get out of here," he said gripping Becketts shoulder and trying to use it as leverage.
"No, no," Beckett said attempting to settled Sheppard back onto the bed, "You need to stay in bed. You have a fever and-"
Sheppard blinked through wide, glassy eyes and shook his head adamently, "It's too hot in here, I need to get out of here."
"It's not hot in here," Beckett said as he passed Sheppard a glass of water, "You have a temperature of 103."
Sheppard greedily drank the water and then handed it back to Beckett. He wiped a hand across his forehead and then fanned the top of his gown to get some air circulating, "I can't stay in here. " Sheppard tried to move to the edge of the bed again, "I need my P90. What if the wraith come?"
Beckett shook his head, "You're perfectly safe in here."
Sheppard grabbed Beckett by the lapels of his white coat and whispered, "Stark lied. I know that there are wraith here."
Beckett called a passing nurse over, "Can you get me some Haldol love?"
The nurse gave Sheppard a quick glance and then rushed off.
"I have to…" Sheppard pushed Beckett aside and managed to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.
He started to pull the tape off his hand and Beckett tried to pull his fingers away, "No, you need that."
"Who needs a needle in their hand?" Sheppard asked.
"You do."
Sheppard swung his legs back and forth and reached up to his chin.
Beckett pulled his hands away.
"What is that?" Sheppard asked as he distractedly looked past Beckett's shoulder.
"You cut it open when you passed out," Beckett stated, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't pull the stitches out."
"It's so hot!" Sheppard said in a loud voice and a few bodies in the neighbouring infirmary beds started to stir.
The nurse returned and handed Beckett a syringge.
Sheppard looked at it in wide eyed fascination, "What's that?" he narrowed his eyes.
"It's something that will make you feel cooler," Beckett lied.
Sheppard licked his lips, "Ooo-kay," he said holding out his arm.
"You should really get back onto the bed."
Sheppard sighed and sat back onto the bed, kicking the covers away from his legs.
"Okay, this will sting a little so-" Beckett depressed the plunger and watched as the contents emptied.
Sheppard looked over to Beckett as he discarded of the syringe and blinked heavily, "I still feel hot."
"Give it a second," Beckett said as he helped Sheppard lie back down.
Sheppard blinked a few times and started to list backwards. After a few minutes of incoherent mumbling he settled into a deep sleep.
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Beckett had been up most of the night with Sheppard, trying to abate his fever and keep him calm whenever he cried out in his dreams. He was exhausted himself and when he finally pushed himself out of his office chair and resurfaced in the infirmary he wasn't surprised to see Teyla, Ronon, Mckay and Elizabeth.
"You look tired Carson," Elizabeth noted as Beckett came to stand beside them.
"Aye," he said rubbing his eyes, "Colonel Sheppard had a bit of a rough night."
"How is he doing now?" Teyla asked glancing over towards his bed.
Sheppard seemed to be sleeping comfortably for now, he was still, his hands resting atop the covers, his chest moving up and down rhythmically, but his face was still flushed red.
"He's got a fever as the result of an infection," Beckett informed them, "And he's been having some nasty nightmares, which he refuses to talk about."
"Do you think he should talk to Heightmeyer?" Elizabeth asked tearing her eyes away from Sheppard's bed.
"I do, but I don't think he'll talk to her," Beckett said as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
"Of course he wont," Mckay said with a sigh, "he doesn't even talk to us, his team, why would he talk to Kate?"
"Rodney," Ronon warned, when Sheppard stirred slightly.
"One of Sheppard's team mates reported that he hadn't seen Sheppard sleep while they were off-world. The man had exahusted himself to the point where his immune system is having a hard time fighting off this infection."
"It has something to do with the time he had away," Mckay said loudly.
Beckett turned to Sheppard's bed and held a hand up to silence Mckay.
Mckay opened his mouth to protest when Sheppard started to call out to an invisible enemy. He swiped his hand out as if he was trying to fight somebody off and as a result of his thrashing his I.V line became disconnected, and a rivulet of blood started to dribble across his hand.
"No!" he called out, eyes wide open, but unseeing.
Ronon and Beckett ran over to him.
"I need you to keep him still," Beckett said as he called for some Haldol.
Ronon planted a heavy hand down onto Sheppard's chest, careful not to cause him pain, but he contniued to move despite the pressure, "I need to get them to safety!" Sheppard shouted at the top of his lungs.
"What's happening?" Elizabeth called out, worry marking her face.
"He's having another hallucination," Beckett replied quickly.
Teyla stepped forward and reached for Sheppard's hand, "John, you are okay. You are in Atlantis. You are safe."
"He's not going to hear that," Mckay said in a derrisive voice. He was pacing back and forth and everyone knew that his snapping was a result of his concern.
"Keep talking love," Beckett said as the nurse passed him some Haldol.
Sheppard suddenly met Ronon's eyes and shouted, "Are Cole and Martins okay?"
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Elizabeth crossed the docking bay, weaved her way through the various boxes of supplies and new personnel and found Colonel Caldwell talking to one of the Daedalus's engineers. When he spotted her, he broke off from his conversation to meet her.
"Doctor Weir."
"Colonel, it's good to have you back," Elizabeth remarked as she stepped out of the way of two men carrying boxes.
"Well it was a quick trip," Caldwell noted with a nod, "but Atlantis' coffee supply is replenished one more."
"Ah, no more complaints from the science department then," Elizabeth said with a smile.
Elizabeth looked over to the Daedalus and shook her head, "I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that."
Caldwell turned back to his ship and smiled, "Me either."
A comfortable silence borne of mutual respect passed between them as they walked through the bay.
"How is Colonel Sheppard?" Caldwell asked.
Elizabeth didn't know why, but she found it slightly odd that Cadlwell was showing concern for Sheppard. They had never been friends and they had clashed on several occasions, but his unprompted concern was, well frankly, concerning.
"He's in the infirmary, but Carson is positive he'll make a full recovery."
"Is he awake?" Caldwell asked her.
"Not at the moment. Carson had to put him under sedation."
"That's a shame." Caldwell said, "I bought him a visitor."
"Oh?"
Caldwell turned and called over a young man. What was noticable about his appearance was that he had a number of cuts and scratches marring his face. He also had a sizeable bruise along his jaw.
Elizabeth tore her eyes away long enough for Caldwell to make introductions.
"Doctor Elizabeth Weir meet Lt Laraby."
"Hello Ma'am," Laraby stated with a polite nod.
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TBC
not too many chapters left now. I estimate two or three...
Any mistakes are mine as i operate without a beta...yeah...i live on the edge!!
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