Chapter 3: Anything different this morning?
"Are you with us Colonel?" Doctor Weir asked, bringing John's awareness back to the conference room.
"Sorry?" Sheppard glanced around the room, wondering how long he'd been day dreaming. The look on Teyla's face and the fact that Rodney was shaking his head subtly made him realise Elizabeth had probably tried to get his attention more than once.
"I was just wondering if you were intending to join us this morning," Doctor Weir looked at him pointedly, making it clear she was well aware his mind had been elsewhere since the moment he'd sat down.
"Sorry," Sheppard sat up straighter, mentally shaking himself in an effort to clear his befuddled brain. "I was ah ... up early this morning."
"Well perhaps you could make sure you get more sleep next time," Doctor Weir suggested helpfully before returning to the topic of the meeting.
Sheppard still felt disconnected from the conversation, from himself. It wasn't unusual for him to miss sleep – hell he'd gone days without sleep in the past and managed to function better than he was this morning. No, tiredness alone didn't explain his distraction ... the absence of his awareness of Atlantis was just as much to blame. His attention was continually being captured in listening for the city, something he was aware of only when he came back to himself moments later to realise what he'd been doing. Sharpening his focus Sheppard made a conscious effort to pay attention for the rest of the meeting.
Rodney hung back as Doctor Weir dismissed them and the others all left the room.
"Anything different this morning?" Rodney asked cryptically.
"I ah ... haven't checked," Sheppard prevaricated, knowing the continuing absence of the usual hum meant the answer was probably no. Still he sent out an internal request to talk directed at that place within his mind he'd always associated with Atlantis, paused for a few seconds and then shook his head mutely.
"Well the diagnostic came back clean," Rodney reported. "Are you willing to admit there's a problem now?"
"No I'm not Rodney," Sheppard said firmly, getting up and walking quickly from the room.
"But ... you can't just -," Rodney stammered as he almost ran to keep up.
"I can," Sheppard insisted, stopping suddenly and turning to face Rodney. He glanced quickly around to make sure no one was listening. "Look," he offered almost hopefully, "maybe I was never meant to have a permanent connection to the city. Maybe the effects of that energy beam wear off over time."
"Did Atlantis ever give you any indication that would happen?" Rodney shook his head in disbelief. "And don't say maybe because I know that's not true. I get that you're not keen on the whole 'my special friend is a city' thing but I think it would be a mistake to ignore the signs of a real problem so you can deny there's anything different about you compared to the rest of us!"
"What do you want from me Rodney?" Sheppard demanded impatiently. "I don't know how the talking thing got switched on ... in fact you have no proof other than my own word that I was ever talking to anyone but myself."
"I saw you in action," Rodney said simply. "That was proof enough."
"All I can do is keep trying to re-establish contact," Sheppard offered that compromise. "Beyond that I'm at a loss just like you."
"And what about that system I wanted to find out about?" Rodney resorted to petty complaints. "We won't be able to do anything with that now."
"I'll come back this afternoon and try to get something out of it for you," Sheppard promised, glad Rodney had finally given up on pushing his connection with Atlantis for now.
x
Instead of heading back to his office Sheppard found himself detouring to his quarters. He felt tired enough that a short nap sounded very appealing. Maybe if he just got a little sleep he wouldn't feel so disconnected from everything, nor so distracted. Stretching out on his bed Sheppard closed his eyes and dropped into a deep sleep.
"Sheppard," a voice that seemed to be both Wraith and somehow human as well dragged him up from the dark well he'd been lost in. John opened his eyes, not surprised to find himself in that same forest, running through the trees with the sense that something sinister was after him.
"Colonel?" the voice came again. Sheppard picked up the pace, sprinting away from the source, looking behind him to see if his pursuer was visible.
Slam! Sheppard's body impacted with something at high speed, throwing him back through the air to land hard on the ground. Winded, Sheppard struggled for breath as he raised himself up to see what he'd hit.
The Wraith. While Sheppard was still recovering the Wraith leapt up off the ground where he'd fallen, appearing above John in seconds.
"SHEPPARD!" It was the Wraith and yet not, the contradiction distracting John from his immediate danger. He turned his head to look back into the forest, searching for an explanation. The Wraith put a hand to Sheppard's shoulder, pinning him to the ground. John looked back up to see its feeding hand poised to strike.
"NO!" Sheppard yelled, panting harshly, trapped in the nightmare world. "Get off me!" Struggling he managed to get a hand free, clamping it fiercely around the Wraith's throat and squeezing as hard as he could. Sheppard was accustomed to holding a P90 steady for hours on end and it pleased him that he could hold on pretty damn hard.
The Wraith's eyes bulged in its head as it tried to breathe. "Sheppard," it choked out, pleading for new air to fill its starving lungs. John held on grimly as the Wraith grabbed his wrist and tried to pull his hand away. "Jo ... hn," the Wraith gargled torturously. Sheppard flinched at a sudden pain in the hand he wasn't using to squeeze the life from the Wraith. He blinked ...
... and found himself back in his own quarters with Rodney McKay looming over his bed.
"Ouch!" he snapped to waking instantly, glaring at Rodney angrily. "You bit me!"
"Jo ...hn," Rodney gasped out faintly, still constrained by Sheppard's hand around his throat.
"Crap!" Sheppard let go abruptly, watching sickly as Rodney slumped back to sit on the floor, gulping in huge lungfuls of air. "I told you not to sneak up on me when I'm sleeping!"
"I called you three times!" Rodney protested in a still breathless voice. "You were dreaming ... having a nightmare by the looks of it."
"It wasn't a nightmare!" Sheppard denied angrily. "And you mustn't have called out very loudly if you couldn't wake me up."
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Rodney asked irritably, getting slowly to his feet and putting a shaky hand to his throat. "You were supposed to come down to the lab hours ago but instead you've been in here sleeping all afternoon."
"You keeping tabs on me now?" Sheppard felt the unreasonable anger bubbling away inside ... he reached for the iron control he usually placed on himself but today he just couldn't find it. He was sick and tired of always being on call – no matter what time of the day or night, sick of people who only ever wanted something from him.
"No," Rodney denied hotly. "It's not like you to break a promise."
"I don't remember promising to be at your beck and call McKay," Sheppard snarled, jumping from the bed and taking a few intimidating steps in Rodney's direction. "In fact I don't recall signing up to be at anyone's beck and call and yet that seems to be what I've got ... twenty four hours a day every bloody day of the week."
"Huh?" Rodney backed away in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? What's wrong with you?"
"NOTHING!" Sheppard yelled, making Rodney jump fearfully. "Why can't you people just leave me the hell alone for five frigging minutes?!"
"Fine," Rodney's voice fairly dripped with confusion and hurt. "I'll leave you alone ... Colonel. But you should think about what you just said because that's not you."
"Get out," Sheppard's tone was quiet and deadly. He turned away, unwilling to even watch Rodney leaving.
"I'm going," Rodney said quietly. "Oh, and thanks for your concern by the way," he added bitterly. "You almost succeeded in choking me ... and even though you don't appear to care – I'm fine." With that Rodney spun and almost ran from the room.
"RODNEY!" Sheppard ran to the doorway calling for Rodney to stop but it was too late. John couldn't believe what he'd done. He'd almost strangled his best friend and then, instead of saying sorry, instead of insisting Rodney get checked out by Beckett, he'd proceeded to make it worse by yelling at him and practically blaming him for the whole thing.
"DAMN IT!" he yelled, punching a fist into the nearest available surface with all his strength. The control panel next to the door was just as unforgiving of him as he was of himself – sharp pain lanced from his fist down his arm at the forceful contact. Looking at his hand in sick detachment he felt a sinking feeling inside when he realised he'd smashed the panel cover, embedding a large jagged piece of hard plastic through the gap between two fingers straight into his palm. His whole hand throbbed which meant at best he'd probably fractured something and blood was flowing freely down his arm and onto the floor. How the hell was he going to explain that to Doctor Beckett?