Chapter Two
The next time he woke up, there was a dark-haired man sitting in the chair by his bed, and after a moment, Michael realized that it wasn't Beckett. Blinking to clear his blurry vision, he took in the man's dark clothing that was very similar to the uniform worn by the guard posted at the door. When he noticed that he was being watched, the man gave him an easy grin.
"Hey, Lieutenant," he greeted, his voice cheerful like Beckett's. "Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"
"Okay, I think," he said, hesitantly. Studying the man, he asked, "Who are you?"
"Sorry," the man apologized, an abashed look on his face. "Doc warned us you might not remember. I'm Major Evan Lorne; you're on my Gate team."
"Gate team?" Michael echoed, curiously.
"The Stargate," Lorne clarified, but his brief attempt at an explanation only left Michael even more confused.
"You said that I was on a team?" he asked, instead, hoping to learn something that made at least a little bit of sense.
"My Gate team," Lorne reiterated. "Along with Lieutenant Laura Cadman and Dr. David Parrish."
"Talking about us behind our backs?" a new voice spoke up from the doorway.
A few seconds later, a woman in the same uniform as Lorne appeared at the foot of his bed, followed by a man in a light blue shirt. The man gave him a nervous grin and a quick wave, and the woman reached down and gave his foot a quick squeeze.
"Hey, Mike," she greeted. "How's that bump on the head?"
"It hurts a little bit," he admitted, and then he frowned in confusion. "Mike," he repeated, dubiously.
"It's short for Michael," the man, presumably Parrish, told him. "It's your name," he added, hesitantly.
"I know that," Michael said. "It's just – Mike?" he repeated, incredulously. No matter how many times he heard it, it just didn't sound like him.
"Well, we could always call you Squirt like your older sister does," Cadman said, cheerfully, ignoring Lorne's exasperated glare, "but I figured you'd like Mike, better."
"Mike is fine," he decided.
"So, when does Beckett say you'll be released?" Parrish asked, politely, and Michael jerked his shoulders in a wordless shrug.
"Not for at least another day," a familiar voice broke in, and Michael looked over to see Beckett coming over, a syringe in his hand.
"More insulin?" Michael asked, warily, remembering how the stuff had burned going in last time, making his skin itch.
"More insulin," Beckett confirmed, with a sympathetic smile.
He injected the medicine into a port on the IV line and Michael winced in anticipation, resisting the urge to scratch at the site where the IV was taped into the back of his hand.
"Well," Lorne said, after Beckett had left, "We should probably let you get some rest. See you later, Lieutenant."
"Yes, sir," Michael said, as Lorne stood up from his chair. "Thanks for stopping by."
"See you later, Mike," Cadman said, reaching out and ruffling his hard with an easy grin that Michael couldn't help but respond to in kind.
He watched the trio leave, Parrish giving him a quick wave before he ducked out the door.
"They seem nice," he commented, after they were gone.
"That they are," Beckett confirmed. "You're on a good team, Lieutenant."
"Could – could you call me Michael?" he asked, hesitantly. Protocol aside, his rank just sounded strange coming from the other man.
"Michael it is," Beckett said, cheerfully. "And you can call me Carson."
"Carson," Michael said, testing it out. "You're not going to give me more of that stuff that makes me fall asleep, are you?" he asked, suddenly, remembering the last time Carson had injected him with insulin.
"Not this time," Carson told him. "Do you want anything to read?" he asked. "I've got some books in my office."
"Actually," Michael asked, "I was wondering if you could answer some questions."
"If I can," Carson offered, taking the seat Lorne had vacated.
"Tell me about myself?" Michael requested, hesitantly.
"My pleasure," Carson said, smiling.