Facing the Operative Word by AndromedaMarine

The Darker Side of a Coma in another Galaxy

The lights flickered in Rodney's lab. Not a good sign, they'd learned over the years. He ignored them for a few minutes, and then the screen of his laptop died and the Head of Science almost spilled coffee over the keyboard. "What the hell?" he squawked, hitting the laptop for good measure. "Damn naquadah generator."

The screen of his laptop thrummed to life but it didn't show what he'd been working on. Instead, letters began to flow across the screen, reminding Rodney of a file he'd read from the SGC. What happened? The letters spelled. Rodney leapt back and stared at the screen as if it were going to eat him. Where am I? What's going on? Why is everything so dark?

"Hello?" Rodney asked experimentally, after hyperventilating a bit.

Rodney? Is that you?

"Who is that?" The scientist should have been used to crazy things happening but this was too much.

It's John, you twit – can't you recognize my voice?

Rodney relaxed somewhat. At least he knew who was inside his computer. "Uh...I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you don't have a voice." Rodney felt stupid talking to a computer.

A stream of periods floated across Rodney's computer. What happened? Why can't I see anything? Where's Elizabeth, and what do you mean I don't have a voice?

Rodney coughed. "You were fighting a wraith hand-to-hand and he fed on you. You don't remember that? I might add that you're in a coma and my laptop."

Another line of dots drifted across the screen. I remember fighting the Wraith, but that was like, a while ago. Right? What do you mean I'm in a coma? I'm talking to and I can hear you right now! And what the hell do you mean I'm in your laptop? Stop trying to confuse me, Rodney; you know I'm smarter than that.

"I should get Beckett down here..."

--

Rodney took his laptop and sprinted to the infirmary, which wasn't too far away – Rodney was glad of this considering the transporter problem. "Carson, I have something you might be interested in." He barged into John's room and noisily set the laptop on a small table.

"Rodney! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing? The colonel needs peace and quiet!"

Rodney smiled and opened the laptop. "You won't believe this."

Hello?? What's taking so long?

"Who's doing that?" Beckett asked, eyes ghosting the room just to make sure, because Rodney's hands hadn't touched the keys, nor were the keys moving.

Carson? Thank God! I thought Rodney'd never help me.

The doctor's face was white. "Again, who's doing that?" The Scot's voice was rather high and Rodney would swear the doc's eyes had changed color too.

Oh yeah... It's John. Don't just stand there, help me out with this! Where is Elizabeth?

If not for his medical training and constant exposure to alien elements the good Scottish CMO would have fainted right then and there. "Colonel Sheppard?"

Unless someone changed my name, yes.

"Bloody hell... Lad, you're in a coma! You shouldn't be able to do this!" He ran a hand through his gelled hair and swiveled to look at the seemingly unconscious John Sheppard. "I suppose I should ask you things as though you were conscious... Lad, can you feel anything?"

No.

"Can you see anything?"

Just blackness, which I'm guessing is nothing.

"But you can hear."

Obviously.

Carson pressed on John's good shoulder. "Can you feel that?"

Feel what?

Apparently not. "Never mind."

Where is Elizabeth??

"I told her to get some work done. She's been by your side for too long, lad. Be glad of it," Carson berated. He felt uneasy about his strange communication with the colonel.

Why am I in a coma? I don't feel sick or hurt.

"I placed you into a medically induced coma because of the extensive injuries your body is sustaining. If I didn't your body would not have been able to handle the stress and you would have died." The back of the doctor's mind was fixed on John's previous sentence. "Do you feel any...emotion?"

...frustration, exasperation, maybe a tinge of anger. Why?

"I'm exploring options here, Colonel, be patient."

I don't like being patient! Where is Elizabeth??

Rodney, who'd known John for several years, knew this didn't fit John's demeanor. Usually the colonel was very calm and patient (except in dire situations or when Rodney was unbearably annoying).

Suddenly the lights flickered in the infirmary and big, bold letters started to marquee across Rodney's computer. Take me to Elizabeth. Now!

Both doctors knew something had gone horribly wrong.