Previously:
Martin laid his head back against the pillow, breathing heavily. Rolling over he shut out the room and Dan, praying that when he woke up everything would be different.
Chapter Two:
As Martin opened his eyes, it took a moment to register exactly where he was. The SGC infirmary. On set. Vancouver.
Except the open door opposite his bed actually let out to a large storage area where the crew sometimes sat on quick breaks, rather than a long, very familiar corridor. The design people could have added in that corridor without him realising it right? Not considering there's a solid brick wall about 12 feet away, the sensible part of him added.
His eyelids were heavy, making him appear a little punch-drunk, but he was determined not to go back to sleep.
"What happened?" He spoke to the ceiling.
"You're awake again!" A voice answered as Dan…Siler…raised his head to look over at his friend. "Loose electrical wiring on the main lighting rig in the Gate Room. I told you," he repeated.
"It was a rhetorical question."
Martin blinked, not sure if this was Dan or 'Siler', and feeling the imminent guilt that follows snapping at one of your fellows. He tried to take on a softer tone, despite the continued pounding of his head.
"You're still wearing your cost-…fatigues." He figured he'd try a more subtle way of finding out which goddamn reality he was in. Apparently his guest hadn't noticed. "Well technically I'm still on shift, but I asked Colonel," he paused shaking his head, "General O'Neill specifically if I could stay down here, check you were ok, since he saw what happened. You took a pretty big shot you know!"
Did he actually sound impressed?! Martin rolled his eyes, huffing. "Right!"
He was clearly still wrapped up in some dream. With a huge amount of effort and pain on his part, Martin swung his bare legs out of the bed and stood up. He swayed violently, putting out his hand to steady himself as the world did acrobatics around him. Yeah, it was hard to believe this wasn't real. Siler hurried around the end of the bed to steady him.
"Wood, you really shouldn't be out of bed."
Martin knocked his hand away, taking an agonizing step forward.
"Look, if you're not going to listen to me, I'm gonna get back to work. The gate overview won't finish itself." The stocky sergeant turned to stalk out of the infirmary.
Something stirred in Martin's sore head. He turned sharply, wincing. "Wait!" Reaching out tentatively, he tried to apologise with a smile. "Dan-…Siler…whatever. I'm sorry. Do you think I could come with you?" The sergeant hesitated. Martin rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry for having a go. If your head hurt as much as mine right now you'd be lashing out at the nearest person too." Siler frowned. "I feel fine. Really!"
The sergeant sighed, nodding, and helped his friend out of the infirmary.
Taking a few tentative steps, Siler turned to Martin and raised an eyebrow. "You know, if we're going to go anywhere near the gate room we really need to get you some fatigues first!"
Martin blushed, pulling the open ends of his hospital gown together swiftly.
Walking through the halls of the SGC was surreal. Corridors, rooms, people. It was fictional. But it was right here, in front of him; a real world. He could hear snatches of conversation as other characters, he shook his head, people, walked by him. What was even more bizarre was the fact people kept smiling and saying hello. Extras he barely recognised, other more regular background artists he was quite friendly with, even Colin Cunningham, or Major Davies as she probably should say.
They would nod and smile, murmuring "Major" as he walked by. He shook his head, his heart pounding as he tried to take it in, to accept it. Martin was an open-minded man, but this was a little much, even for him. They approached the Gate room; the hubbub of activity increased and excitement began to course through his veins. He hummed, trying to contain it.
A Gate, a real Gate! If this world was real. It seemed real enough. He shook his head, trying to stay focused, drinking in as much of this surreal, make-believe situation as possible.
Siler stopped abruptly, and Martin walked into him. Muttering an apology, he waited as the technical sergeant nonchalantly used his base card on the Gate room door. Even Martin's toes hummed with excitement. The huge blast door opened with a familiar noise, the sound effect they usually added in post, and Martin breathed deeply.
Siler held out his arm, a little perplexed by his usually chatty friend's silence. "After you."
They were welding. Or at least, Martin was pretending to. Having never welded anything in his life, he graciously offered to hold the stepladder for Siler, looking around nervously as if daring anyone to ask him what he was doing. The Gate room was everything he had ever dreamed of. And by now he figured he must be dreaming. It did not, however, make the step ladder or the situation feel any less realistic. Something he had discovered to his discomfort earlier when he had had an unfortunate disagreement with Siler's large spanner.
"Wood!" The owner of the aforementioned spanner was leaning down to look at him, his welding helmet pushed back. "Pass me that box-end wrench would you?"
Martin obliged, handing the heavy object over before resuming tight control of the ladder, trying to appear helpful. Without being able to stop it, however, his attention wandered. Eyes straying on the control room, Martin noticed a certain blonde head bobbing up and down. He could only assume she was typing and – nodding? – at the same time.
Suddenly Amanda, or Colonel Carter as he supposed he should call her, leaned over the desk to catch an errant piece of paper. She caught his eye and smiled, raising a hand slightly in greeting. Martin couldn't help but smile in response, despite the weirdness of the situation. He missed her sudden, alarmed frown as he glanced upwards.
Siler, 'Dan', was engrossed in hammering something he could barely see and Martin turned his attention back to the control room. Another head had joined Carter's. This one was topped with silver hair and a tanned brow. O'Neill stood up, glancing around the room furtively before leaning to whisper something in Carter's ear. She clearly suppressed a giggle, looking over her shoulder, and he grinned, jerking his head in an ironic salute before promptly turning on his heel to march upstairs.
The smile remained on Sam's face for a long time as an odd realisation began to dawn on Martin.
"You know, I'm beginning to think you're more accident-prone than I am!"
Martin blinked, his thoughts broken. "What?"
"I said, I think you're more accident-prone than I am!" Dan grunted as he pushed down with his spanner.
Martin grinned. "Seriously Da-, Siler, that's not possible." He glanced back up at the control room. "What's Maj-, Colonel Carter working on today?"
Siler laughed. "You expect me to know?! It's some advanced gate diagnostic thing she's drawn up with Walter. Don't really understand it myself." He stopped, following his friends gaze. Raising an eyebrow, Siler tapped on Martin's shoulder.
"Don't even think about it Wood, Colonel Carter is way out of your league, besides she's taken."
Martin glared at his friend indignantly; Amanda was more like a sister, "I wasn't thinking about that! I was just…thinking."
"Right." Siler resumed tightening bolts.
Curiosity soon overcame Martin's embarrassment, and the return of his thundering headache. "So, she's taken?"
Siler smiled, continuing to work. "Yeah. Some cop or something. Lives in Denver. Book only gives it another couple of months before it peters out though."
"The 'Book'?" Siler did a double take, a blush rising through his cheeks as he attempted to stammer out some kind of explanation.
Apparently life at the SGC wasn't quite as exciting as the writers had depicted. Day-to-day happenings around the base didn't much interest the viewing audience, Martin supposed, so it often happened that SGC personnel were left to their own somewhat mischievous devices when the 'blanks' needed to be filled in. Not one member of the base took their position lightly; they simply needed a way to blow off steam, and aiming said steam at their respected co-workers seemed to Martin to be a common, and amusing, pastime.
He cut off Siler's spiel, raising his hand to a still-thudding head. Ideally Martin should still have been in bed. But not, he told himself vehemently, when there was a whole world of imagination crossed with reality at his fingertips. Dimly, he realised Siler was talking. He ignored whatever the sprightly tech sergeant had said, raising his brows.
"So why haven't I heard about this book before?"
"To be honest Major," Siler gulped, using his rank for the first time, "we weren't sure who to trust with it, so we've kept it as far down the 'managerial ladder' as possible, so to speak."
Martin rolled his eyes. "I suppose it was a 'mistake' you ever mentioning it?" Siler nodded grimly, turning back to work with as much concentration as he could muster.
Before too long, however, Martin's curiosity was piqued and he attempted to feign indifference. So this 'Book', it only gives Carter and Pe- the cop- a couple of months?"
Siler froze, looking around to check no one was listening.
"We really shouldn't be talking about it Major," he hissed, glancing up to the Control Room cautiously.
Martin rolled his eyes again, "Don't be ridiculous. This is me! Who am I gonna tell, really?" He stared his friend in the eye, willing the bluff to work. He had no idea really how friendly his on-screen character and Siler were; when he'd made up the part it was more to get himself a cameo than anything else.
The bluff paid off as Siler leaned down again, unable to resist the juicy base gossip.
"Word is he followed her on the one of the SG-1 missions before that stuff with Anubis. You know, when Osiris was knocking around." Martin raised an eyebrow at the apparently blasé sergeant. Siler ignored it, or failed to notice. "He stalked her, or as good as. He was injured; on the base for a bit. Man," he whistled, "you did not wanna cross O'Neill's path those few days!"
Martin frowned, "O'Neill?"
There was a significant pause as the other man clearly tried to work out whether or not to go any further. Martin suddenly remembered his rank.
"Look, Siler, I'm not going to reprimand you. I wanna know that's all."
Siler nodded covertly, apparently deciding to run with it. Glancing around stealthily, as if expecting the offending General to pop up at any moment, he whispered.
"Yeah! The cop really pissed him off, hanging around and getting himself part of a top secret mission." One you apparently know a hell of a lot about, thought Martin wryly. Siler had carried on talking.
"-those melons! Just wasn't the same for days afterwards." He shook his head. "Anyway, you know how he is about her." His smiling eyes strayed up to the blonde Colonel now standing over Walter's shoulder, scrutinising his work. Martin followed his gaze; finding this in-depth character discussion fascinating. It was so rare to find a 'shipper' in sci-fi creators; a person that really cared like Martin himself did about the personal and romantic relationships of the characters, that finding one in the Chief Technical Sergeant, notorious for his surly manner and lack of humour, was quite bizarre.
Suddenly, shrieking filled his ears and Martin clapped his hands over them, putting so much pressure on his ears he felt his head might explode. The noise was deafening; a thousand clamouring voices of different volume and pitch joined the screamer, splitting his head in agony. Unable to take the pain, Martin dropped to his knees, barely noticing as Siler called a medical emergency.
Two pairs of hands dragged him carefully by the armpits. He had a strange floating sensation. Then once again, familiarly now, everything went black.
TBC
A/N – Martin's open hospital gown is expressly dedicated, once again, to Jumble and the Woohoos on the Martin thread. Enjoy thunking that bum girls!
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