want to thank everyone for the awesome reviews. Since FF has it's on and off problems, I wasn't sure anything would get through to people, so I want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH here. Where I know you'll see it. Thank you:D And I'm sorry for the delay. The past 2 weeks have been insane.
SLOW MOTION...part 19
John couldn't ever remember feeling more miserable than he did right now. One of the nurses had told him it had been six hours since the withdrawal had started. Felt more like six days. The cramping, pain and nausea had John curled up on his side, one hand clenching the bedrail. His throat burned from all the dry heaving he did, and he couldn't even sip water. The moment it hit his stomach it came back up and his gagging made his head hurt so bad that he couldn't hold back the tears that would track down his face.
"John?"
He recognized Elizabeth's voice but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see her or anyone. Mainly, he didn't want anyone to see him like this. John could no longer deny what was happening or that he had done this to himself, and he was angry at himself for being so weak. He wanted to be angry and sick and suffering alone.
A hand touched his arm and John flinched, but he lacked the strength to pull away. He opened his eyes to slits and saw Elizabeth watching him. He saw the concern in her gaze and hated himself for the lines of worry in her face that made her look older than she was. He knew he had put them there. He closed his eyes again so he didn't have to see them.
"Can I get you anything?" Elizabeth asked, obviously ignoring the fact that he was being rude.
"No," John muttered, opening his eyes again. Just then pain twisted in his gut and he couldn't swallow back a moan. He felt her hand shift to his forehead, felt her fingers combing through his damp hair. Surprisingly, it helped soothe him, but it didn't help the pain. It felt as if someone were twisting a knife in his gut.
Elizabeth sighed softly. "I wish there was something we could do to help you through this."
John didn't want to hear that. "My fault," he croaked. There was no sense in denying it any longer.
"Can I ask you something?" Elizabeth's tone was suddenly sharp.
It caught John's interest and he made himself focus through the pain so he could look her in the eye as he nodded. "Ask away." He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the question, but damn if she didn't have the right to ask it.
There was a moment of heavy silence before Elizabeth blurted out, "Why did you take the Shuloc?"
That was the 64, 000 dollar question. John rather wished he had an answer to give her. He hadn't even had time to think about why. Hell, he'd barely even begun to accept the fact that taking the Shuloc made him an addict. Shifting on the mattress, John reached for the edge of the blanket with shaky fingers, tugging it higher over his shoulder. One of the symptoms he was suffering was going from hot to cold in a flash. Now he was cold again. Trembling hard enough to rattle the bed rail. He watched Elizabeth turn away and thought maybe she'd gotten called and he hadn't heard it, but then she was back with another blanket, spreading it over him. It didn't really help warm him, but he appreciated the gesture. "Don't know," he replied.
"How long have you been taking it?" she countered.
"Months." John couldn't even really remember when it had started.
A frown twisted Elizabeth's mouth. "Where did you get the drug?"
That question pissed John off a bit. It made it sound like he went looking for it or something. Like he had meant for this to happen. "It was just some tea someone gave me on one of our missions." John wasn't about to name names. Who gave it to him really didn't matter, but then it hit him why Elizabeth wanted to know. "I'm not...I won't go back for more. I'm not some druggie hard up for a fix or something!" Anger made his tone razor sharp and he watched Elizabeth react to it.
"That's not what I think, John," she said firmly. "I'm just trying to figure out how this happened. I know you didn't mean for it to get like this. At least, I don't think you did."
He realized she was leaving it open for him to clear things up for the both of them. Shifting again in an attempt to ease the pain in his gut, John swallowed back a moan then found himself sitting up and reaching for the basin on his bed stand. Elizabeth was there before him, holding it as he retched. By the time he was finished gagging up bile, John felt weaker than ever and so tired that he wished he could close his eyes and slip into oblivion.
"Would you like a sip of water?" Elizabeth was eyeing him with concern. When he nodded, she moved to help him sit up, supporting most of his weight with one arm while she held the glass for him to take a few sips.
"Thanks," John managed to whisper, as she eased him back against the pillows. He hated this. Hated being so sick and weak, and most of all he hated that this was his own fault. "I fucked up," he said simply.
A sad smile curved Elizabeth's mouth. "Must have been your turn," she replied.
He knew she had a boat load of guilt resting on her shoulders, so he knew she understood what he was saying. "It made me feel better," John whispered. "I didn't realize why. All...all that mattered was that it helped me to function."
"But you had to know what it was doing to you after a while." Elizabeth sounded both surprised and disappointed.
"I guess I didn't want to know." That was a hard confession to make and it didn't make John feel any better after making it, but he watched Elizabeth's reaction. She seemed to understand. He wished he did. Right now he was too tired to care, one way or another.
Hunching down under the blanket, John closed his eyes. He wanted Elizabeth to go away.
She brushed his hair back then said, "I'll stop by later. Try to get some rest."
He listened to her footsteps as they faded away. Her words seemed to set off a fresh hell and time lost all meaning as John writhed in pain, zoning in and out of reality as his body and mind screamed for relief. But there was nothing but an endless wave of pain until his body finally gave up and sent him spiraling into blessed darkness.
OoO
Elizabeth looked at Carson who was sitting across from her desk. Twenty-four hours had passed since John had gone into withdrawal and the doctor had come to tell her that the Colonel had finally slipped into unconsciousness. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked.
"Hopefully good," Carson replied, looking uncertain. "He's worn out and he's in a deep sleep, but he is responsive. Which is good. I don't expect him to wake up for some time, unless he starts hurting again."
"Do you think that's going to happen?" Elizabeth sincerely hoped not. She had checked in on John at the seventeen hour mark and hadn't gone back. At seventeen hours of straight suffering, he had looked like a shadow of himself. Pale as the sheets, dark circles stained under his eyes, eyes glassy with pain and shaking so bad she thought he might shatter apart. It had hurt to see him like that. To watch him biting his lips hard enough to bleed. To hear the whimpers he couldn't swallow down any more. He was in loose restraints because he had started scratching at his arms hard enough to make them bleed, and there had even been a few hallucinations where he'd tried to get out of bed. Elizabeth blinked hard to banish the images from her head.
Carson was watching her, looking concerned. He relaxed a bit when she forced a smile. "I don't know what I expect," he admitted. "Thanks to Teyla going to talk to Halling, I know a bit more about what Shuloc is and how it will affect the Colonel, but as far as the withdrawal stage...I'm just trying to make him comfortable. So far it has played out similar to heroin withdrawal, only more intense. But I'm hopeful he's passed through the worst of it now."
Elizabeth hoped he was right. "So what do we do next?"
"Just get him healthy again," Carson stated. "Not that it's going to be easy. He's dehydrated and malnourished and exhausted. Getting him back to par is going to take some time."
"And there's no weaning him off the Shuloc, right?" Elizabeth had rather hoped they could wean John off slowly, but Halling had told Teyla that to give John more would just make things worse. Basically, he had to get off it cold turkey.
Carson nodded. "That's right. I think it's probably best anyway. I've run tests on the shuloc and it's got me stymied."
Elizabeth wasn't surprised. Nothing was easy in the Pegasus galaxy. Why would this be any different. "What about the bracelet? Did Rodney get a chance to study it?"
"He's doing that right now," Carson replied. "He seemed excited about it, but he didn't tell me anything before I came here." That said, Carson's eyes fell on the drawstring bag on Elizabeth's desk. "I take it that's the Shuloc the Colonel had stashed?"
"Yes." Elizabeth grimaced as she stared at the bag. "I had Ronon search John's room. That's all he found." She hadn't liked giving that order, but Ronon had reminded her it needed to be done. She knew he hadn't been happy about it either, but they to make sure John couldn't take the stuff again. He'd suffered enough.
Carson reached for the bag. "I'll take care of this, if you don't mind."
She didn't mind in the least. She just wanted it go. Waving a hand at it, Elizabeth replied, "Please do."
"I'll be going back to check on the Colonel." Carson rose from his seat. "Would you like hourly updates?"
"Yes, please." Elizabeth knew she wouldn't be able to relax without knowing John's condition.
Carson smiled his understanding. He headed for the door but turned back to caution," Eat and make sure to rest. You don't need to get run down."
Elizabeth smiled back and nodded. "I'll do that," she promised. "Send Rodney to me when he's done with the Colonel," she requested.
"I'll do that," Carson promised. Then he was gone.
Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her temples, wishing not for the first time since coming here, that she could turn back time and start over. But she knew it was an empty desire. She shoved it aside and tried to focus on the files that needed her attention. Her thoughts continued to stray to John. She needed him to be okay. For her sake and for the sake of Atlantis. So Elizabeth took a moment and said a silent prayer.
OoO
Three days passed before John became coherent enough to realize he felt better. Or rather, better in a - not screaming from the pain in his gut - kind of way. But he still felt like crap. His body ached, his head throbbed, and he felt tired all the time. He couldn't keep any food down and even drinking water gave him trouble, which meant he was still hooked up to an IV. Worse, he had a catheter. John was no expert on addictions, but he felt certain he should be feeling better than this by now. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
"Colonel?"
He opened his eyes and blinked hard to bring Carson's face into focus. "Hey," John croaked.
Carson looked unhappy. "Not feeling any better?"
"No." It took what felt like a monumental effort to say that one word and John let his eyes slide closed again.
"Rest then." Carson patted John's shoulder and walked away.
It took biting down on his lip to keep from calling after Carson. To keep John from begging him to drug him to the gills. The first time he'd been even a little aware of things, John had asked for something and Carson had refused saying it was too soon to give him anything. So John didn't ask now. He knew Carson would give him something if he could have it, but that thought brought no hope or comfort. John squeezed his eyes tight to hold back the burn of tears.
OoO
"He's not getting better." Rodney said what they all were thinking. He stared at the others gathered around the conference table. Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth and Carson. They all looked as worried as Rodney felt, which made him all the more worried.
Carson sighed then scrubbed a hand over his face. "No, Rodney...Colonel Sheppard is not getting better," he confirmed.
Rodney moved to confront the doctor, hands on hips. "Why not? He should be getting at least a bit better by now. But he's getting worse! WORSE!"
"Rodney." It was Elizabeth who chided him, waving a hand at him to make him back off.
"He should be better," Rodney insisted, although he did move to sit down, folding his arms over his chest and feeling disgruntled. He had visited Sheppard this morning and the man looked like hell. Pale and thin and fragile looking. It scared Rodney to see Sheppard like that. And when he'd looked at him the hazel eyes had been dull and lifeless. The spark that was Colonel John Sheppard had gone out.
"Halling does not understand why John is still sick," Teyla spoke up. "He has asked others and they have all said the same, that the withdrawal would be severe but after twenty-four hours he should start to show an improvement. Even those who have taken Shuloc for years have gotten better after a day or two off it."
Elizabeth got up and began to pace before asking a question. "What about cravings? Will he react like most addicts do?" She asked the question of both Teyla and Carson.
Carson shrugged. "I don't know enough about the Shuloc to say, but I would imagine the cravings would be there. At least for a while."
Teyla nodded. "Halling said the same, but he also said that it depends on the individual. Sheppard is a strong man with a strong will. He should be able to break free of it if he wishes to do so."
"He's not very strong right now," Rodney interjected, feeling pissed off. Not at Sheppard but at the situation in general. And at Carson, even though what happened wasn't his fault. Rodney just needed someone to blame.
"I wish there was something I could do," Carson said, locking eyes with Rodney.
Rodney didn't look away. "Can't you give him something? I mean, you must have some voodoo magic cure all kind of drug. Give him something. Help him get some sleep. Maybe it's that simple!"
But Carson shook his head. "Adding any type of drug to his system right now will only make things worse. Especially since I don't know exactly what might happen. I can't risk it. As you said, he's not strong enough right now."
"So what do we do?" Ronon cut through the crap like always, to get to the point.
"We wait," Carson said, sounding dejected.
Rodney shot out of his chair and headed for the door. He didn't say goodbye to anyone. He needed to be doing something. Anything, just to get the image of Sheppard out of his head.
OoO
John felt almost at peace. He felt something he had been missing. Her presence. Atlantis. She was with him again and he embraced her warmth, letting her seep into his mind and soul. She embraced him back and there was a moment when John felt nothing. No pain, no sickness, no cravings. There was nothing but a sense of sweet numbness. But then that faded away and he felt a buzz of something all too familiar. He felt pain crackling through his nerve endings, barrelling their way into his head. Then there was nothing but pain. White-hot and burning through him.
He screamed.
Beckett came running and froze at the sight of Sheppard. The sound of the man's scream still echoed in Carson's head as he watched blood drip from Sheppard's nose, staining the front of the white hospital gown crimson.
THE END...of part 19