HALF-LIVES

CHAPTER 8

Ronon walked out onto the balcony off the mess hall with his loaded tray in one hand, to find Sheppard sitting alone. A forgotten coffee cup sat on the table, and his crutches leaned at an extreme angle against the railing, looking as if they were ready to fall. Ronon was glad to see that Sheppard had finally shaved the stubble from his face, though. The man looked ridiculous with a beard.

"Hey," Ronon called, bringing his friend out of whatever thoughts he'd been absorbed in. Sheppard looked over at Ronon and smiled.

"Hey, yourself."

"Did I disturb something?" The Satedan asked, and Sheppard shook his head.

"Just thinkin', that's all. So what's up?"

Ronon sat back, but not before snatching both a fork and the dish of sliced pineapples from his tray. "Nothing," he replied.

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the salty ocean breeze that blew over them, softly ruffling their hair. Finally, Ronon's curiosity kicked in, and he asked, "So?"

Sheppard frowned. "So, what?"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ronon leaned forward, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "So, did you talk to Teyla?"

Sheppard nodded, clearly remembering the events of the night before.

"And?"

"We're good."

Ronon tossed the empty dish onto his tray, and let out another sigh. Sometimes talking to Sheppard was like trying to punch a Wraith unconscious. "So, she knows how you feel?"

"Yep," Sheppard replied, unable to keep the mischievous smile from his face.

His friend saw it, however, and raised an eyebrow in response.

"What really happened after I left?"

Now it was Sheppard's turn to lean back, and he crossed his arms. "Not much. I apologized for Kanaan, and for nearly getting myself killed, and…I might've told her how I felt about her."

Ronon eyed Sheppard suspiciously, trying to decide whether or not to make him go into further detail. He'd been waiting for a long time for either Teyla or Sheppard to make the first move, but when Kanaan came into the picture, Sheppard had wisely (or unwisely, the way Ronon saw it) backed off, and gave them some space.

"Sheppard," Ronon said then, "seriously."

Sheppard stared at him, willing him to quit this line of questioning, but then gave up when he saw that it was pointless. "Fine. If you must know, we may or may not have kissed."

Ronon's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I said 'may or may not have'."

"Quit being an ass and answer the question." Though his tone was serious, there was grin on his face.

"What is this, an interrogation?" Sheppard asked, and Ronon just shrugged. "You're a tough one to get around. Fine, yes. Yes, we did."

"So how was it?"

"Ronon!"

"My last question, I swear," Ronon replied, laughing at Sheppard's obvious discomfort.

Sheppard smiled disingenuously. "You're lucky you're my friend, or I'd throw you over the balcony."

"Uh-huh. So?"

"It was…okay." Ronon shot him a look of disbelief, and he added, "It was great, okay? Are you happy? Geez!"

"What was great?"

Sheppard looked up to see Rodney McKay standing next to the table, carrying a tray of his own.

"Uh," Ronon stuttered.

Sheppard just shrugged and replied, "The chocolate pudding they sent to the infirmary yesterday. Seemed homemade, y'know, like made from scratch?"

"Oh," Rodney said, oblivious to Sheppard's deception. Then, he frowned darkly. "Why do they always have the good stuff when I can't get down here?"

"Because they all hate you, McKay," Ronon joked.

Rodney stared at him, wondering if that were indeed true. Then, he shrugged and glanced at Sheppard.

"How's your, uh, leg?"

Sheppard grimaced. "Ah, well, it feels like someone ripped it open with a can opener, and then tied it back together with barbed wire. The meds Keller's been giving me keep me constantly nauseous, and my kidneys still feel like they've been put in a vise. But I'll live. How're you doing?"

McKay suddenly looked a little sick himself, and he pushed his tray away from him. "Um, I'm okay. I've been working on a few minor glitches here and there in the city, but they're nothing serious."

"That's good."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

A long silence followed, as each of the men tried to figure out how to bring up the subject they knew should be discussed.

Finally, Sheppard looked over at Ronon and asked, "Anyone been having nightmares again?"

Ronon shook his head. "You?"

"No. But I still can't shake the feeling that this isn't over yet."

Rodney cocked his head. "What do you mean? We jettisoned the module into the ocean. With the intense pressure down there, it should take them years to get out, and even if they did…"

Sheppard glared at him, and he stopped talking.

"All I'm saying is," Sheppard continued, "my gut is telling me that we missed something."

"Yes, but what?" Rodney asked, ignoring the look Sheppard was giving him. Then, he realized what his friend meant. "Oh, you don't think one of them is still lurking around Atlantis? Oh, that is so 'Night of the Living Dead'!"

"What's that?" Ronon asked him.

"It's a horror movie, where people basically turn into zombies and walk around trying to kill normal people and eat them," Sheppard explained.

"Sounds weird."

Sheppard grinned.

"So what do we do?" Rodney asked then. "With the module gone, there's no way we can possibly trap it."

"I know that, Rodney. Let's just take it a day at a time here, okay?"

Rodney sighed, but didn't argue with him. He should've known there would be a problem; problems were all they seemed to have on Atlantis. Why, he asked himself; why couldn't we just all have a normal day? Feeling himself becoming stressed, he pulled his tray back toward him and started eating.

"Well, I'm off to the gym," Ronon said, pushing back in his chair and standing up. "You wanna come watch?"

"No," Rodney said quickly, around a mouthful of food.

Sheppard shook his head.

"Maybe later. It'll just make me more frustrated to be on these damn things –" he pointed to the crutches "than I already am."

"Okay," Ronon shrugged. "See ya later."

"So," Sheppard said to Rodney after Ronon had gone, "you never answered the question."

Rodney looked up in surprise, his fork in mid-air. "What question?"

A strange expression found its way to Sheppard's face. "If you've been having any nightmares lately."

"Oh. Uh, no. No, everything's fine."

"Rodney."

Rodney dropped his fork and rested his forearms on the table. "Fine. If you must know, I had one. Two nights ago."

Sheppard didn't speak, but the way he looked at Rodney forced the scientist to continue. "Atlantis was sinking, filling up with water. The shield had failed, everyone was drowning."

"The whales were there, weren't they?" Sheppard asked playfully, and Rodney was less than amused.

"Oh, ha ha. Fine, yes, they were. But look, just because I had a nightmare, doesn't mean the energy beings had anything to do with it."

"No, it doesn't. But we can't exclude them, either."

Rodney didn't reply. Sheppard had him on that, he had to admit.

"Let's just keep this between us for now," he heard Sheppard say then. His head snapped back up to stare at the Colonel. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sheppard's hand was already up to stop him. "There's no use in freaking everyone out until we're sure either way."

"Well, yes," Rodney agreed. "Good idea."

The familiar leaden feeling had returned to Sheppard's stomach, and he could only hope that this time, he was wrong.

Teyla stepped up to Sheppard's door and sounded the chime, but he didn't open the door.

"John," she called, just loud enough for him to hear without her shouting. Still nothing. Instantly nervous, she waved over the control and let herself in. He wasn't in his bed, as she'd expected, though the sheets were tangled and hanging askew, telling her that he had indeed been there.

Most of the lights in the room were off, making her see strange shadows that turned out to be various harmless items in his room, like his Johnny Cash poster and the pile of clothes he called his "hamper". As she went further into the room, she finally noticed his crutches lying on the kitchen floor, looking as if they were unceremoniously dumped into a pile and forgotten. In the moonlight filtering through the kitchen window, she saw that the bathroom door was closed, a sliver of light just making it out from under the door.

"John?" she called, but was met with silence, and her stomach heaved itself into her throat. She feared what could be beyond the closed door – if she would see him lying there in a pool of blood, a Wraith standing over him.

Slowly, she crept toward the door, listening for any sounds from within the bathroom. Finally, she could hear an all-too-familiar noise, and her stomach relaxed slightly. She swung open the door, to see Sheppard kneeling in front of the toilet, his head laying across the arm he'd draped over the edge of the bowl. His eyes were shut tight, his brow wrinkled in pain. He heaved a few times, but nothing came, and after he flushed the toilet, he relaxed against his arm again.

"John," Teyla called softly, knowing that even two weeks after his injury, his headache was most likely still present, and that he wouldn't appreciate any noise louder than a whisper. He didn't look up, but groaned to tell her he'd heard her. She stepped into the room and grabbed a damp washcloth, then knelt beside him and wiped his forehead.

"How long have you been in here?" She asked him.

He didn't reply, only moving his hand to indicate that he didn't know.

"Are you all right to move?"

This time, he slowly nodded, and moved to push himself up off the cold floor. His leg protested the motion, however, and he winced and sat back down, too tired to try again.

Catching his sigh of defeat, Teyla stood and then reached down, pulling with all her strength until she had him up on his feet. Slowly, they made their way back toward his bed.

"I'm gonna kill Keller," he finally managed, and Teyla smiled at his comment.

"Is it just the painkillers?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly, and let her help him back into bed. As she untangled his covers and pulled them up over him, he said, "Migraine."

"Will you be all right for a moment?" She asked him then, and he nodded. After eyeing him for a second to be sure, she stepped back into the kitchen to retrieve his crutches and set them against his bedside table, then leaned down to feel his forehead again.

"I'm fine," he insisted, hating himself for needing someone to mother him. He reached for the glass of water he'd put beside his bed earlier and took a few small sips. "I hate throwing up. Haven't done it since my buddies died in Afghanistan."

Teyla nodded sympathetically. "It is not a good experience."

Sheppard grimaced. "No kidding. Listen, sorry you had to see that."

"John, stop," she scolded lightly. "If I had not come, you would have slept there on that floor all night."

He watched her for a moment, and then said, "Probably. Anyway, thanks."

"It is alright."

Though he tried to hide it, she saw him shiver, and she stood up again and grabbed an extra blanket from the couch, tucking it around him. Then, she pulled a chair beside his bed, and sat in it, one hand lightly clasping his, and the other slowly stroking the hair at his forehead.

Sheppard closed his eyes, trying to will his head to stop pounding, but gave up after a while. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that she was still sitting there, though she was starting to drift off.

"Teyla," he murmured, and her head jerked back up to look at him. "I'll be okay, really. You should go get some sleep."

She gazed at him curiously, then nodded. "All right. If you need me…"

"I'll call you. Go on."

Teyla stood up, letting out a breath and stretching her arms over her head. Sheppard watched her, enjoying the slight peek he got of her tight abdominal muscles when her shirt lifted, then suddenly cursed his aching head and unsettled stomach for ruining what could've been a great night.

Teyla caught him admiring her, and shot him a look. "Sleep well, John."

He pulled the blankets up to his neck, tucking them under his chin, and let his eyes drift closed. The last thing he felt before he fell asleep was Teyla's kiss, soft and cool on his forehead.

"I quit, Ronon," Major Evan Lorne said as he stared up at the Satedan from the gym floor. He held up his hands in surrender, and after a moment, Ronon reached down and grabbed one of his hands, pulling him easily to his feet.

"You sure? I can go even easier on ya than that," Ronon said with a small chuckle.

Lorne shook his head. "I'm sure."

"Okay."

Lorne walked over to a bench, where he'd tossed his towel and water bottle, and grabbed both. As he dried the sweat from his forehead, he glanced at Ronon, who was putting away the bantos sticks.

"How's the Colonel doing? I heard he was let out of the infirmary a day or so ago."

Ronon shrugged. "He'll be okay. Keller says his leg is getting better."

Evan shook his head. "I just can't believe I did that to him."

Ronon caught the worried tone in Evan's voice, and walked over to him, placing his hand on Evan's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault," he rumbled.

"Like hell it isn't," Evan spat. Then, he calmed down, and added, "Look, everyone's been saying that. 'It was an alien being that took control of you'. But the truth is, I should've been able to stop it. I could see myself doing it, but I couldn't do anything to stop. If I wasn't so tired…"

Ronon stared at him for a moment, then said, "If is a stupid word."

Evan looked at him, confused, and Ronon shrugged again.

"I'm just saying. You can wonder 'if' every day for the rest of your life, but it doesn't change anything."

"But I stabbed Colonel Sheppard…"

Ronon cut him off with a hard glare before he replied, "And Colonel Sheppard has done things, harmed people when he was under alien control."

Evan was caught there. Ronon was right, of course; many people on Atlantis had done the same kinds of things as he had.

"Have you spoken to Sheppard about it?" He heard Ronon ask.

He shook his head. "I've been too…nervous…about what he'd do to me."

Ronon laughed out loud. "Don't worry about it. If there's one thing I know about Sheppard, it's that he doesn't usually hold a grudge too long." Then, a mischievous smile found its way to his bearded face. "Besides, I'd say you have a one-leg advantage over him, anyway."

Evan couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "I suppose you're right. Thanks."

"No problem." Ronon held out his hand, and Evan reached out to clasp his forearm. "Now, let's get outta here. I'm hungry."

Evan nodded. "Sounds great."

Sam Carter was in her office, trying to stay awake while staring at her computer screen, when Teyla knocked on the doorframe. Torren was in her arms, giving little whimpers every now and then, and squirming as much as a baby could.

"Teyla?" Carter said, beckoning for her to enter. Teyla walked into the room, gently bouncing Torren in her arms to calm him, and then stood in front of Carter's desk.

"Colonel Carter," Teyla began, "I was wondering if you had a moment."

Carter sat back in her chair, glad for the distraction, and nodded happily. "Sure. Anything wrong?"

Teyla shook her head, though she seemed uncertain. She hesitantly sat in the chair facing Sam, and said, "I have been having nightmares again. It could be nothing, but when I spoke to Dr. McKay, he said that he also has been having trouble sleeping."

"You think it has something to do with the beings that attacked you before?" Carter asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Again, Teyla seemed conflicted. Finally, she replied, "I am not sure. It may be just our minds, playing tricks on us. But then Rodney told me that Colonel Sheppard felt as if something was still…wrong."

Carter frowned. If they had missed something, it could spell disaster for the team, as well as Atlantis as a whole. A rogue alien wandering around the city, overtaking people at will, could do some serious damage. Especially if those people were military personnel.

With a sigh, Carter stared up at the ceiling for a moment before asking, "What do you suggest we do?"

Teyla shook her head. "I do not know, yet. I am supposed to speak with Rodney again in the morning. Maybe he can find a solution."

"Have you spoken to Colonel Sheppard about this?"

Teyla seemed to blush at the mention of the Colonel, and Carter raised her eyebrows at the reaction. She had always known that Teyla and Sheppard had feelings for each other, but so far, neither of them had acted on them. She was about to say something about it, when Torren squalled again, and Teyla stood up and paced around the room, figuring the motion would soothe him.

"I have not," Teyla admitted, "for many reasons. The Colonel's headache has not vanished yet, and Rodney's conversation with Colonel Sheppard was supposed to be kept between them. I fear that if I mention it…" she finished helplessly, and Sam nodded, understanding what she meant to say. Colonel Sheppard had more secrets about himself than he cared to admit, and wouldn't take kindly to anyone, especially Rodney, letting them be known to anyone else.

However, in this case, Sam figured that he might let it slide. She said as much to Teyla, who nodded slowly before saying, "Then perhaps it is best if all of us have a discussion."

"I agree. And you should also see if there's anything Dr. Keller can do for his migraines. Though he won't like that suggestion at all," Carter finished with a smile. Everyone knew about Sheppard's hatred for doctors and medicine in general; he wasn't secretive about that.

"He will not," Teyla agreed. She stole a glance at her son, who had finally settled down and fallen asleep, and smiled in relief. Then, she turned back to Sam. "Thank you, Colonel Carter."

"You're welcome, Teyla."

Teyla left Carter's office, and met Ronon as she was walking back to her room to lay Torren down, and possibly get some sleep herself.

"Hey," her large friend called to her, and jogged down the hall to catch up with her.

"Hello, Ronon," she replied softly, gesturing with her chin to show him that Torren was sleeping. He grinned in understanding, and fell into step beside her.

"Where're you coming from?"

"Colonel Carter's office."

Ronon eyed her suspiciously. "You in trouble or something?"

Teyla chuckled quietly. "No. I went to talk to her about my nightmares."

"They're back?" He asked, suddenly worried. Though Sheppard was the leader of their team, Ronon still felt as if he had to be protective of his friends. And now that Sheppard was injured, it seemed to be even more reason to feel that way.

"Yes. As I told Colonel Carter, it may all be a coincidence. But I wanted to let her know in case it was not." When Ronon fell suddenly silent, she cast a sideways glance at him, and asked, "Have yours returned, as well?"

"I'm not sure. I don't usually remember my dreams after I wake up. A few nights, I've woken up sweating though, so…" he finished with a shrug.

Teyla's eyebrow lifted, but she said nothing.

"How's Sheppard?" He asked then, and she felt her heart skip at his name. She forced herself to stay calm, however, and merely frowned a little. Ronon had seen her embarrassed expression, but drew no attention to it.

"His leg is healing, but his headaches are getting worse." Suddenly, a thought hit her, and she stopped in the middle of the hall. Ronon stopped also, and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.

"What is it?" He asked her.

"What if it is not simply a headache?"

Ronon looked down at her again, waiting for her to explain. When she didn't, he said, "You lost me."

Realizing she had spoken aloud, she glanced up at him, a mix fear and confusion in her dark eyes. Turning around to head the other way down the hall, she said, "We must go speak to Sheppard."

TBC...

Notes: Oooh, a cliffhanger!! I usually don't leave them like this, but the muse (you-know-who) made me do it. LOL As you know, there was a little more ShepWhump in this chapter...why do I love harming my precious Shep so much? *Shrugs* I dunno...'cause it's fun, I guess. Anyway, enjoy, R&R and all that...another chapter may be up tomorrow or so...depends...