Note: Just thought I'd take a minute to say thanks for all the reviews and warn you that this thing is approaching monumental length. You know how we are when we get together.

THE WHITE ROOM . . . Part 17

Rodney watched John sleep, just as he and the rest of the team had done for two days now. After Ronon had placed John in the chair and it activated, the pilot had visibly relaxed, the lines of pain slowly disappearing from his face. An hour later, the chair had shut off, but Sheppard didn't wake up. Carson had moved him back to the infirmary and they had all kept a close eye on him.

"Why doesn't he wake up?" asked Rodney, sensing Carson's presence near the foot of the Colonel's bed.

"I don't know. But he doesn't seem to be in any pain and his vital signs are strong. I think he's healing."

Rodney tore his eyes from his friend to look at the tired doctor. "What do his test results show?"

Carson took a deep breath and pulled a chair closer to Rodney so he could sit. He looked at the unconscious man in front of him a few seconds before turning to Rodney. "Some of the tests are coming back with results similar to someone suffering from a traumatic brain injury. Rodney . . . even if Atlantis was able to help the Colonel, his recovery might take a while. And there is no guarantee that he will be the same."

Rodney's jaw line tightened, his expression darkening. "Kel and Purdie did this to him. I wish there was some kind of suitable punishment, but there isn't. There won't be any justice for Sheppard, not really."

Carson nodded sadly. "Aye, I know. Have you identified exactly how they did this?"

"Yes, between Hermiod and Radek and I, we came up with enough evidence they finally admitted what they did. They discovered an Ancient repository similar to the one SG-1 encountered several years ago, but it included both information and schematics as well as personal logs and memories. They believed if the information was downloaded in sections instead of all at once, the human brain might be able to handle it and be able to access the data."

Carson nodded. "Well, I can at least follow that line of thought. So how did they do it?"

"They loaded it into the Daedalus beaming technology and linked it to the record of Sheppard's DNA. Any time the Colonel was beamed on or off the ship, it stuck some of this stuff in his brain. But it was loaded into his subconscious, so he didn't know it was there and couldn't access it. Apparently the last download was too much, or maybe the combined effect of several times close together. Anyway, it spilled over into his conscious mind and began trying to take over, but the downloaded stuff was all mixed in with his memories and knowledge and it basically shorted out the system, giving us one Looney Tunes Colonel."

Carson nodded. "That makes sense I guess. How did Atlantis help and why couldn't she help him before?"

"I suspect she couldn't do anything before because his brain was so scrambled that she couldn't make any sense of it. Hermiod thinks one of the tests Kel ran shows that Sheppard's brain was actually beginning to deal with the excessive information and sort some of it out. Connecting to that disk may have calmed him enough to allow that to start happening."

Carson sat up straight, surprised. "So the Colonel might could have fixed himself in a bit more time?"

Rodney chuckled and crossed his arms. "Yeah, in about a hundred years or so. No, he would never have gotten everything sorted out in his lifetime without help. Radek found a program in the data base that we activated and Atlantis was able to modify it to help Sheppard. The program was originally meant to help certain people learn vast amounts of information during periods of crisis. But the chunks of data were much smaller than what was placed in Sheppard, plus he's not actually an Ancient."

"Meaning there are physiological differences that made the process more difficult," said Carson as the full ramifications of what had happened began to sink in. "That's why his brain is reacting like it's been traumatized. In a manner of speaking, it has."

"Right. Radek and I have looked at the readings from what happened while Sheppard was in the chair. We both think it probably helped, but we aren't sure how much or how long it will take for the Colonel's system to deal with everything. It's still an overload situation, so we aren't sure if he'll ever be able to process it all or not." Rodney looked sadly back to his friend. "You were right, we may never get the John Sheppard we knew back," he whispered, fighting the flood of emotion that came with the admittance.

Carson watched Sheppard breathe for a few minutes before speaking. "There's a fine line between not giving up and holding onto unrealistic expectations. We're going to have to find that line and stick close to it so that we can properly help the Colonel."

"How do we do that?" asked Rodney quietly.

"We stick together and give each other support when needed, just like we've always done." Carson stood and looked down at Rodney. "Call me if you need anything." He turned and had only taken a few steps when Rodney called him back.

"Carson, I think he's waking up."

Carson returned, moving to the side of the bed opposite where Rodney was now standing. Sure enough, the Colonel was shifting restlessly, his eyelids beginning to flutter. A few seconds later, his body stilled, but his eyes opened, blinking once as he stared at the ceiling.

"Colonel?" said Rodney, leaning over the prone man.

John's eyes focused on Rodney for a moment before his face registered recognition. "Azur . . . Rod-ney."

Rodney's mouth spread into a wide grin. "Yes, that's right." He looked up at Carson, excitement filling his face and voice. "He knows me, Carson."

Carson smiled. "Yes, but he already knew you." He looked down at Sheppard and tapped him lightly on the cheek. "Colonel, do you remember me?"

John shifted his head on the pillow and studied Carson for almost a minute before smiling. "Car-son . . . doctor."

Carson nodded, obviously pleased. "And do you know where you are?"

John looked slowly around the room before bringing his gaze back to Carson. "Home . . . Lantis . . . thank you." He smiled and his eyelids drooped a few seconds before closing. "Home," he whispered again.

Rodney took a deep breath, once again trying to shove down the emotions inside him as he gripped Sheppard's upper arm. "Yes, my friend . . . you're finally back home."

oOo

Elizabeth clasped her hands in her lap, trying to process everything Rodney and Carson had just told her. A quick look at Ronon and Teyla told her they were doing the same. She shivered a little at Rodney's announcement that there was a chance John might not fully recover. "How long before we know the extent of John's recovery?"

Carson sighed and she got the distinct impression he was hoping no one would ask that. "I can't answer that right now. I can probably tell you more in a few days, after he's awake and I've run some tests."

"Perhaps we can assist in John's recovery," offered Teyla.

"Aye, I'm counting on it. The Colonel will need lots of help and plenty of patience, from all of us." The doctor shifted his gaze to Rodney, who took almost a minute to realize Carson was staring at him.

"What? I can be patient."

"Since when?" asked Ronon.

"I've always been patient," said Rodney. "Well, except when people are being stupid or annoying or generally a pain in the butt."

"And how often is that?" asked Elizabeth, smiling.

Rodney grunted and stood up. "I think we need to go check on Sheppard," he said as he stomped out of the room. The others got up one by one to follow him. Rodney slowed as he neared the bed, realizing that Sheppard's eyes were open. "Colonel?"

John smiled at Rodney as the scientist came up to the side of the bed. "Home,"

Rodney nodded. "Yes, we've already covered that. You're home in Atlantis." Carson went to the other side of the bed, raising the head so Sheppard could sit up. Ronon, Teyla, and Elizabeth stood in a semi-circle around the foot of the bed.

"John, it's so could to see you awake. We've been very worried," said Elizabeth.

John grinned. "'m good . . . Liz-buth." He let his eyes wander over to the other members of his team. "R-Ronon . . . Tey, Teyla." He frowned like it took all his concentration to say the names.

Teyla's face twitched with concern and then she walked up beside John, Carson moving to allow her through. She studied his face for a moment before leaning her head forward and waiting. Several seconds later, John seemed to catch on. He leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. Smiling, Teyla pulled away and clasped John's hand. "It is good to have you back, John."

John nodded, looking almost embarrassed. "Back. Home."

Teyla gave one last squeeze to John's hand before switching places with Carson. "How do you feel, Colonel?"

"Good," said John.

Carson nodded and then looked at the others. "I need to run a few tests to get an idea what the Colonel's status is. Why don't you give us a little time and then check back."

Elizabeth nodded. "Okay. John, we'll see you in a little while. Don't worry, Carson can . . . " Elizabeth grinned and rolled her eyes. "I'm doing the bedside manner thing again, aren't I?"

John nodded. "S'okay."

Carson watched as Elizabeth, Ronon, and Teyla each said goodbye to John before leaving. Rodney continued to stand beside the bed. "Rodney, I need you to leave."

Rodney stood his ground, shaking his head. "I've been by his side since the beginning of this mess and I'm not leaving him now. You can do your test with me here."

Carson looked at John, who was watching Rodney closely. "Colonel, it's your decision."

John looked back at Carson. "Azur stay . . . Rod . . . Rodney stay."

Rodney smiled and gave a small nod to John. "The Colonel is used to me being here. It might make him more comfortable."

"Aye, I suppose you could be right. All right then, wait here and I'll be right back." Rodney watched as Carson walked across the room to retrieve a plastic bin and head back. Shifting his gaze downward, he noticed Sheppard seemed to be fascinated with his blanket, plucking fuzzballs off the surface.

Carson set the bin down in a chair and grabbed a clipboard from it. He wrote something with marker and then turned it toward Sheppard. "Colonel, can you tell me what this says?"

Rodney looked at the paper, reading it silently. My name is John Sheppard. He rolled his eyes as he looked back at John, wondering what the doctor was up to. His expression soon sobered, however, as he saw the pilot struggling. Shock turned to dread when John finally pushed the clipboard away, his face dark with anger and frustration.

"Can't."

Carson nodded, sad, but not surprised. He wadded the paper and threw it away as Rodney processed what he'd just seen. "He can't read? You knew, didn't you?"

"I didn't know, but I suspected." Carson handed the clipboard and marker to John. "Draw an A for me."

John held the marker awkwardly, as if he'd never written before, and stared at the blank paper. Finally, he put the tip to the white surface and drew, biting his lower lip in heavy concentration. When he stopped, he scowled at the paper. "Not right." He angrily handed it back to Carson.

Rodney looked at the scribble, his eyes going wide as he glanced at Carson. The doctor simply nodded and set the clipboard down, carefully schooling his expression.

Carson dug around in the bin a few minutes and pulled out a plastic toy in the shape of a hollow octagon. Each side had an opening with a different shape. He handed the toy to John, who studied with the fascination of a child. Carson took several small shapes that matched the openings on the part John had and placed them on his lap. "All right, Colonel, see if you can match the shape to its hole." To demonstrate, Carson picked up an oval and turned the piece in John's hand until he found the hole that matched, then slid it in. "Like that."

John nodded and picked up a square. He turned the octagon around, passing the square hole and causing Rodney to wince. His face lined with concentration as he tried in vain to push the shape through a rectangular hole. He turned it several directions, but couldn't make it go in and couldn't seem to grasp why it wouldn't. Rodney felt his gut twist into a knot and he had to fight the urge to grab it out of the man's hand and show him the right way. John finally gave up and picked up a triangle. A few seconds later, he began trying to push it through a star shaped hole. He tried several times before throwing it across the room and pushing the rest of the plastic pieces toward the foot of the bed. Rodney and Carson caught most of them before they slid off to the floor.

"No . . . no more!" John's face was red with frustration or embarrassment. He seemed to realize that he should be able to carry out the simple tasks. He rolled over, turning his back to Carson and pulling the covers up to partially cover his face.

Carson placed a hand on his shoulder. "Colonel, lad, please don't take it so hard. It will get better, I promise. You've been through a great trauma and it will take some time to work through. But we'll be here to help you every step of the way." He gave the man's shoulder a squeeze. Just before he turned away, he thought he saw Sheppard wipe the moisture from his face and he fought to keep his own emotions in check. He nodded toward his office and then waiting until Rodney followed.

Rodney closed the door when they were both in the small room. "He's . . . he's . . . you knew he'd be like this?"

Carson sat down heavily behind his desk. "We discussed this Rodney, what did you expect?"

Rodney paced in the small space between the desk and the door. "I don't know, I mean I knew there would be problems, but I didn't expect this. It's like he's retarded or something. He can't read, he can't write, he can't even match up shapes. Can he feed himself and go to the bathroom at least?" Rodney knew he was approaching full-blown panic and he couldn't seem to slow that train down.

"Sit down, Rodney." Carson's voice was firm and authoritative, making Rodney stop his frantic motions before dropping into a chair. "The first thing you will do is calm down or I won't let you anywhere near him. If you're this upset, think how he feels. He'd afraid and frustrated beyond comprehension. We have to be steady and calm and supportive or we'll hurt him more than we'll help him."

Rodney nodded, but the fear still remained. "Calm, steady, don't panic. Got it."

"I mean it, this is important. He will get better, but we'll have to work with him, reteach him things. He knows them, but his brain has forgotten how to get from a to b. It will go much faster than teaching someone from scratch, but we have to take him through the motions. There will likely be physical problems as well. He'll probably have some trouble with walking and fine motor skills at first, so we may have to help him with some tasks until he's regained muscle control."

Rodney looked even more worried than before. "Oh, God, what have they done to him?"

"That's not important any more. What's important is helping the Colonel and offering support and not making him feel inferior about things he's having problems with. Can you do that?"

Rodney's insides felt like they were twisted hopelessly by the whirling emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes, concentrating on the misery Sheppard had already been through. He had to do this for his friend. Opening his eyes, he looked solidly at Carson. "I can do this, for Sheppard."

Carson smiled and nodded. "I know that you can. We all can. We have to. I know I haven't tested his motor skills yet, but I don't think that would be appropriate right now. He needs some time to deal with what we just learned. And I think you and I should meet with the others and explain what we're dealing with."

"Yeah, I'm not sure we haven't jumped out of the frying pan into the fire."

Carson looked at Rodney, his expression hard. "We're being positive, remember."

"Positive. Right. Think positive."

oOo

John had felt so at peace when he first woke up. The voices and noises had stopped pounding around inside his head. They were still there, but he could almost make sense of them. Little by little, the known and the unknown were arranging themselves into retrievable slots. He knew where he was and he knew the people around him, although he seemed to have trouble bringing things to the forefront of his mind and even more trouble getting what he wanted to say to come out of his mouth.

He'd been even more pleased to see him team. He knew them; he remembered them. And he was home, where he belonged. Underneath everything was the gentle comforting thrum of Atlantis, guiding him through the maze that had become his mind. He knew he wasn't right yet, but he felt he was close, so much closer than he'd been in a long time.

And then Carson had asked him to read. The marks on the paper had been just that, meaningless marks on paper. They looked vaguely familiar, but other than that, nothing. The feel of the marker in his hand had been awkward and strange. He remembered writing before, but now it seemed foreign. The last task he'd recognized as a child's toy. He thought he remembered playing with something similar with the toddler of a friend shortly after he joined the Air Force. A toy for a baby and he couldn't do it. Heat flushed his face and he tasted the salt of tears. Swiping the wetness from his face, he was almost as frustrated at his loss of control as he was at his inability to complete simple tasks he'd been doing since he was a child. His thoughts were still so scrambled and foggy and he yearned for clarity, for a moment of pure lucidity.

Atlantis reached out, trying to comfort him and he pushed her away, preferring to wallow in self pity. But she would not be ignored and he soon felt her comforting embrace. Frustrated and depressed, he relaxed his guard, allowing himself to get lost in her hum.

TBC