DAVID COOK is THERAPY for me!

Fic: Purple when bruised...part 5

Sun, 13 Sep 2009 21:59:07 GMT

PURLE WHEN BRUISED...PART 5

David woke up with a jolt, pain crackling through his body and bringing tears to his eyes, even as he sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to slow down the rapid beating of his heart. It thudded so hard against his ribs that it pulsed in into his temples, making his head ache.

“David? Honey?”

He knew that voice. Opening his eyes he was surprised to see his mother sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at him with eyes dark with worry. Sitting up slowly, trying not to wince at the pain in his ribs and entire right side, David reached for her and almost sighed in relief when she enveloped him in her careful embrace.

After a long moment of outright clinging to his mother, David eased back and whispered, “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Where else would I be?” Beth countered, blinking hard in an obvious attempt to hold back tears, even as she smoothed his hair off his forehead.

Which David hated, but allowed. It was comforting and he soaked it up in waves.

Beth pressed a kiss to his temple then said, “You’re father’s here too. And your brother. We’ve been so worried since we got the call. But seeing the attack on the internet made it worse. I was so afraid…” her voice broke on a sob and this time she was the one clinging to him for comfort.

David bit back a curse as he did what he could to comfort his mother. He was pretty sure he fell short in his attempts, but figured it was the thought that counted. In the end they were pretty much just clinging to each other when his father opened the door and found them.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur for David. He ended up ensconced in his father’s strong arms, soaking up his strength. Then Andrew was there, hugging him and cracking jokes before David shooed them all away so he could use the bathroom and grab a shower. He felt overwhelmed with emotion and used the time to ground himself. Besides which, he hadn’t showered in a couple of days and felt incredibly grungy, which wasn’t helping his present state of being.

Because he was so sore it took what what felt like forever to shower. Certainly too long for his mother’s comfort because she sent Andrew in to check on him after 15 minutes. David was actually glad for his help. He’d managed to wash his hair and self and rinse, but he was feeling wiped out by the time he managed to -sort of - dry off. Andrew didn’t say a word as he helped David get dressed. Which David was grateful for since Andrew brought in the clean clothes that David hadn’t remembered to grab before hitting the shower.

He was feeling crappy enough to allow his brother to help him back to his bed, which his mother had changed herself, and didn’t quibble over being tucked in by her. But he didn’t want to talk about what happened and he was more than happy to take some pain meds and fall back asleep.

His father was sitting with him when he woke up again. David knew it was time to talk, but he put it off for a bit by making a bathroom run. When he came back out his Dad asked if he was hungry. He wasn’t really, but knew he needed to eat.

Twenty minutes later, Room service delivered dinner for everyone. David insisted on eating in the living room with everyone else, but it started out being awkward and tense, until Neal belched after a swig of beer and David couldn’t help laughing.

It hurt to laugh, but at the same time it felt wonderful when everyone else laughed with him. It broke the tension enough for conversation to become normal. Or what passed for normal these days.

Not wanting the feeling of normalcy to pass, David asked for the remote. Joey handed it over and David flipped through the channels, pausing when he saw an image of himself. He stared at the screen and realized it was the local news. The news interviewer was talking to a pretty young woman who looked like she’d been crying.

“David, don’t watch that,” his mother beseeched, trying to grab the remote.

He shushed her, apologized quickly, then focused on the screen. There was a video clip of the attack and David froze as he watched himself being kicked repeatedly, while down. It still boggled him more that someone had taped it instead of helping him, than the fact that he’d been beaten to begin with.

Arms wrapped around him and David realized he was shaking and that his mother was hugging him. But he didn’t stop watching, and then the news lady was back with the young woman and David listened as she apologized to him.

It was Brian Werner’s girlfriend. The one who had turned him in to the police. David stared, in disbelief, as she dissolved into tears as she apologized over and over again. He didn’t blink until his brother snagged the remote and turned the channel. Still wrapped in his mother’s arms, David turned to Michelle.

“I want to talk to her,” he stated. “Amy, right? Isn’t that her name? I want to talk to her.”

“I can arrange that,” Michelle replied, reaching for her phone. “I’ll set it up for tomorrow.”

David shook his head. “Tonight, if you can. I want her to know I don’t blame her for this. She shouldn’t feel guilty. It wasn’t her fault.” Wriggling free of his mother’s hug, David searched the room for Joey, who still looked sad and guilty. Pointing a finger at him, David stated, “That goes for you too. Stop blaming yourself for what happened. Okay?”

Joey grimaced, his curls bouncing limply as he shook his head. “I can’t help it. I should have been there. I should have stopped it.”

“No!” David felt anger course through him and he ignored the pain crackling through him as he surged to his feet. “The only person who should feel guilty is the bastard who filmed the attack and didn’t do a damn thing to stop it! I’m not half as pissed at Brian Werner for beating the shit out of me as I am for that camera jerk for filming it and posting it all over hell and back!” The adrenaline rush David was experiencing at the moment dulled any pain. He was pissed and shaking and he wanted to punch something or smash things. He even searched the room for something to throw.

“David.” His father’s tone was soft but firm and cut through his fury like a hot knife through butter.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” His legs suddenly felt rubbery and David slumped back down to the couch, his ribs and arm protesting the movement. “This is just…it’s senseless!” It was frustrating as hell not being able to put what he was feeling into words.

Warm, soft, hands cupped his face and David looked into his mother’s worried eyes.

“Maybe you should come home for a while,” she beseeched him. “Just come home and give yourself time to heal and for this whole thing to quiet down in the media. You’ve been go go go since you won, David. You need time to breathe.’

“I can’t stop now.” He didn’t know how to explain it to her. There was no way she would understand unless she walked a mile in his shoes. His bandmates could relate, but convincing his Mom wasn’t going to be easy.

To David’s surprise, his father stepped up for his cause. “He has to do this, Beth. He’ll be fine. We’ll all get through this, but it’s David’s call how to proceed.”

“Thanks, Dad.” David was more grateful than he could say. He focused on his mom again, plastering a tired smile on his face. “I’m going back to LA tomorrow, and you guys are going back home. I’m sore, but I’m fine and at this time next week we’ll be back on schedule with the tour. Meanwhile I’ll do a few interviews to tell my side of the story and then the press will be bored. Right, Michelle?”

His manager nodded. “Best way to go,” she agreed. “Ellen is ready when you are, and I’ve got ET lined up as well. And, I just arranged for you to talk to Amy whenever you’re ready. I have her cell phone number.”

That surprised David a bit, but he decided now was as good a time as any.” He got up, slowly this time, and glanced around. “Anyone know where my cell is?”

Andy found it for him.

“Thanks.” David moved to Michelle. “What’s the number?” He punched it in as she recited it, then headed for the bedroom while it rang. Amy picked up as he closed the door behind him, wanting to keep the conversation private.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Amy, it’s David Cook.” He didn’t know what else to say.

There was a long and heavy silence and he feared she might hang up on him. “You there?”

“Y-yes. I’m so sorry, David. So very sorry. I wish I could make it up to you.” Amy babbled on until her voice broke into tears.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” David was quick to reassure her. “You’re not to blame for what happened.”

His words apparently fell on dead ears because Amy continued to babble apologies in between bouts of weeping. By the time David managed to calm her down, assure her he didn’t blame her for anything and that he would be fine, he felt as drained as if he had run a tri-athalon.

Tossing the phone on the bed, David went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He wished he could turn back time and go back to before the beating and start over. He didn’t have the energy to deal with the fall out, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it. On any level. His family and friends were feeling it right along with him, and the media sure as hell wasn’t going to fade away. Dealing with them was part of the gig.

David wouldn’t trade his life for anything. He loved what he was doing. He loved every show and every crowd and making music with his friends. It meant everything to him. Never in a million years would he have imagined being where he was would mean dealing with getting the shit beaten out of him because of some fan’s jealous boyfriend. It was insane. And headache inducing.

Knowing that he couldn’t will any of the bad shit away, David dried his face and returned to his friends and family. He brushed off his mother’s concerns that he should take another nap and convinced everyone into watching movies. Although he had to accept lying on the couch covered with a blanket as a concession to getting his way.
Halfway through the movie, David fell asleep. And dreamed.

THE END...of part 5

Does the HAPPY DANCE! David Cook's LIGHT ON goes Platinum!!

Thu, 03 Sep 2009 09:59:21 GMT

I love the man and his music! And now he has 2 platinum singles and a platinum album! What next? I can't wait to find out. WOOT!

Fic: Purple when bruised...part 4

Sun, 19 Jul 2009 21:10:33 GMT

Title:PURPLE WHEN BRUISED
Author: Clarkangel
Disclaimer: Not mine. Sadly.
Rating: Mature, for language
Summary: David is attacked and hurt and he and his band have a rough time dealing with the aftermath.
Author's note: Sorry this is so short yet so long in coming. I'm taking baby steps in wrangling RL and getting back into the flow. This will be finished, probably in about 3 more parts. Or less, if I go long.

PART 4

David spent the next twenty-four hours sleeping intermittently. Because of his concussion a nurse would check on him every hour and even when he managed to fall back to sleep, bad dreams haunted him. Every time a dream woke him, Neal was there making David feel both grateful and guilty. Grateful that he wasn’t alone, but guilty that he was keeping his friend awake.

Once he was up for good, David called his mother to reassure her that he was fine. It wasn’t an easy conversation because, truth be told, he wasn’t fine. He hurt like hell and he felt sick about the whole thing. Nothing about the attack made sense to him. Brian had messed up his future because of jealousy when there was no basis for his jealousy. It freaked David out to realize that he had ended up in the hospital because some guy had felt the need to beat the shit out of him based on nothing more than insecurities. Insecurities incurred because his girl friend was a fan. It was too stupid to make sense of and it was making his headache worse trying to sort it out into some semblance of reason.

It took David until afternoon to get released. Everyone tried to talk him into staying one more day but he was adamant about leaving. He wanted to get back on the road and on to the next tour stop. He had two days off before the next show and he hoped it would be enough time to feel up to playing, because just the car ride back to the buses had about done him in.

When he entered his hotel room, David’s eyes went wide as he took in the assortment of fruit, flower, candy and wine baskets scattered about the room. Tossed in and among said baskets were a variety of stuffed animals. “What’s all this?” David queried, as Michelle stepped forward to grab at his good arm and attempt to guide him straight into the bedroom. Only David dug in his heels and shook her off. Which hurt like hell but he gritted his teeth and bore the pain in silence. No way in hell was he going back to bed after just getting out of one.

Neal snuck up on Dave and maneuvered him over to a nearby couch. He didn’t give ground until Dave was sitting down, then he promptly dropped down beside him.

It was Andy who answered David’s question. “Your fans are worried about you.” He gestured at all the gifts, which David now noticed included balloons and gift bags.

It made David feel a bit weepy to realize how invested his fans were in him, but he managed to sniff back the tears and smile. “I’ll have to post a vlog on the website to thank them.”

“You can do that later,” Art interjected. “For now you need to rest and heal.”

“I know.” David hid a wince as he shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable, but his whole right side ached from head to toe. “I’ve got two days to rest. So when do we hit the road?”

Art moved to sit on the coffee table, directly across from David. “You have a week to get better because I’ve cancelled the next three shows.” He raised a hand to cut off any protest and continued. “We all talked about it and we all agreed it was the way to go. And, before you flip out, I’ve already rescheduled all three shows. Which brings me to some news you’re not going to like much.”

David didn’t like the way Art said that. “What kind of news?”

“Well..even though we were able to sneak you out of the hospital without any fanfare, there wasn’t any way to keep what happened out of the media.” Art waved a hand in the direction of the flat screen in the corner of the room. It was on with the sound muted.

A quick glance and David realized the news was on and his face was flashing on the screen. It hit him like a punch in the gut, what Art was trying to tell him. “How much attention has this gotten?” he asked, even though he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

Art shrugged. “It’s everywhere and my phone is ringing off the hook. All the entertainment and news sources want an interview with you. I’ve set up an interview with ET and Ellen Degeneres has called to offer her condolences and to let you know that if you want a venue to talk about what happened, she’ll be happy to have you on and to make sure it doesn’t go off track. And once you’re feeling up to a few phone calls, People want and exclusive and I think they’re the best bet for getting the facts out there.”

“I hate this shit!” David knew it was part of fame and he wouldn’t trade being where he was for anything, but he wished the press would forget he existed some times.

“There’s more.” It was Joey who spoke up and he looked miserable as he moved to sit next to Art.

David hated seeing the guilt that glimmered in Joey’s eyes when he looked at him. Pretty soon they were going to go off and have a long talk and David wasn’t going to relent until Joey got it through his thick skull that he didn’t have any reason to feel guilty about what had happened. But that thought flickered away when David realized everyone looked antsy all of the sudden. “What’s up, guys? What’s done is done, it can’t get any worse, right?”

Joey sighed, one hand rubbing over his face as he avoided David’s gaze. “Apparently a news crew had arrived early to interview you and the videographer was kind of stalking you around campus. He filmed the whole thing of you getting beat….” Joey’s voice broke and he buried his face in his hands.

“This wasn’t your fault, dammit!” David shouted, instantly regretting it when his head pounded and his ribs throbbed. “And what do you mean he filmed the whole thing.”

“The asshole filmed every second of that asshole, Brian, beating the shit out of you,” Andy picked up the story and continued. “From the moment that jerk tackled you until Neal and Joey and I found you. He saw it all happened and didn’t do a damn thing to help you!” Anger sharpened Andy’s tone until he was almost shouting. Andy never shouted.

David stared at his friend, then turned to look at Neal. “Did you know about this?”

Neal nodded. “Yeah. Art called me but one of the nurses had already filled me in. I saw it on tv and it’s all over you tube.”

“So…my mom and dad and everyone saw it?” David didn’t want to believe it but he could see by the look on Neal’s face that it was true. He just wasn’t sure what to think or how to process it. Bad enough some jealous asshole had beat him up, but some fucking journalist, who could have helped him, who could have stopped it, had just stood by and filmed the whole damn event. What the fuck!

“David, are you okay?” Michelle was suddenly on his other side and eyeing him with concern.

He shook his head then struggled to his feet. “Gonna be sick,” he mumbled, before clapping a hand over his mouth. Neal was on his feet and guiding him to the bathroom, offering support as Dave bent over an retched until he thought he was going to pass out. His ribs protested all the heaving and by the time he was finished, David felt dizzy from the pain.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Neal said, as he supported David on his good side. He guided him over to the sink and got some mouthwash so David could get rid of the sick taste in his mouth. Then they somehow made it into the bedroom and David floated off into a hazy-gray darkness. A somewhat pain-filled yet blissful oblivion.

The End...of part 4

PURPLE WHEN BRUISED...part 3

Tue, 26 May 2009 10:14:08 GMT

Title: Purple When Bruised
Author: Clarkangel
Disclaimer: Not my boyz and girlz
Rating: T for language
Summary: David gets hurt and the band deal with the consequences of a senseless act. Your basic H/C.

PURPLE WHEN BRUISED...PART 3

When they got to the hospital, Neal wasn’t allowed past the double doors. Elaine and her partner walked along side Dave’s gurney, filling in the doctor who came out to meet them. Usually only the kind of scene you’d see on a tv show, but Dave had enough star power now that Elaine had called ahead to prepare the ER for his arrival. Neal was happy for that now, although David hadn’t been all that pleased. He didn’t like being treated like he was special and Neal had given up, long ago, trying to get his friend to recognize that particular truth.

Staring at the closed double doors, Neal wished he could light a cigarette. He needed to be doing something, like beating the shit out of the piece of shit who had done this to Dave.
“Neal?”

He turned to see Art, Michelle, Andy, Kyle and Joey running towards him. They’d made good time. “Hey,” he replied, through gritted teeth. He was so damn pissed and worried that it was hard to vocalize a simple greeting. A part of Neal felt like screaming.

“How’s Dave?” Joey and Michelle blurted out the question at the same time.

“Hell if I know,” Neal muttered. “He was conscious when they took him in, but he’s really hurting.” Turning to Art, Neal asked, “Can you talk to campus security or the cops or somebody? Cause I need to know who’s ass to kick!”

Michelle reached out, gripping Neal’s shoulder. “After Andy and Joey explained what they knew, I called security and they’ve called in the police. They’re sending someone over to question David in a bit. Hopefully they’ll have something to tell us.”

Neal had that same hope, because he really needed to know why the hell this had happened. And to David of all people. His friend wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t the type of guy to incite people to beat the shit out of him. “I’m gonna go smoke,” Neal stated, abruptly turning on his heel and exited the hospital.

He was working on his second cigarette when Andy joined him. “Anything?” Neal asked, hopefully.

“Not yet,” Andy replied. “Some rep from the college showed up. She’s telling Art and Michelle how sorry the school is and that they’re going to put us up at some hotel next to the hospital.” Andy was turning a slow circle as he spoke and suddenly he pointed over Neal’s shoulder. “I think that’s the hotel.”

Neal didn’t bother to look. If Dave had to stay in the hospital, then he was parking his ass in the chair next to his bed.

Andy tried to chit chat for a moment, but fell silent when Neal didn’t respond. For which Neal was grateful. It was a comfortable enough silence, since they’d been friends a long time, but there was a palpable tension. A shared worry for their friend.

************

David wasn’t happy when he realized he had lost track of time. He had to blink everything back into focus and that’s when it hit him that he was ensconced in a hospital bed with an IV in the back of his right hand. He was reaching for it with the intent to rip it out when a hand caught his wrist, putting a stop to his action. Trying to pull his arm free sent a shockwave of pain throughout his body and David had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

“Relax,” Neal rumbled, eyeing David with concern. He released his grip and offered a grim smile. “Good to see you awake.”

David grimaced, started to nod, but thought it best not too, given the throbbing in his temples. “How long have I been here?” he asked, his voice sounding raspy to his own ears.

Neal shrugged. “Few hours. And before you ask, concert’s been cancelled.”

“Fuck!” David was not happy to hear that, although he was realistic enough to know he wasn’t in any condition to perform right now. He’d gone on while sick with a cold, the flu and some damn stomach virus, but never after getting the shit beat out of him. His body felt like one giant ache and he doubted he could even hold a guitar.

“Art’s already working on getting it rescheduled,” Neal stated. “So don’t sweat it.” He stared at David for a long moment before asking, “How do you feel?”

David wasn’t sure how honest he should be, but I was Neal, and he and Neal were always honest with each other. “Like crap. Did anyone get the liscence plate of the bus that hit me?” He meant it as a joke but Neal didn’t crack a smile. His expression was morbidly grim.

But before Neal could respond, the door opened and Michelle and Andy came pouring into the room.

The first words out of Michelle’s mouth were, “I talked to your mother.”

David felt himself grow pale. “What did you tell her? She’s not coming here, is she?” His mom had been through all the ups and downs of his crazy new life before, during, and now after idol - so to speak. David didn’t want her worrying about him unnecessarily.

“She’s worried sick about you, but I convinced her to stay put until I get an update from your doctor,” Michelle replied. “Who I just talked to in the hallway and he’ll be here in a minute.”

“Cops are here too,” Andy chimed in, moving to the empty side of David’s bed and eyeing his friend with eyes dark with worry. “They want to get a statement from you.”

Neal looked pissed and his voice was tight with anger as he spat out, “Are they looking for the bastard who did this?” He stabbed a finger towards David as he spoke.

Which made David feel like the center of attention in a most uncomfortable way, along with reminding him of that horrific moment of getting beaten while he was down. He couldn’t help the shudder that rippled through him.

Which Michelle noticed. “David? Are you okay? Should I get the doctor now?”

He managed a shaky smile and hoped he sounded sincere when he replied, “No…I’m fine. I just want out of here ASAP.”

“Don’t count on that happening,” Andy stated. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dave…but you don’t look so good.” To his credit, Andy didn’t look happy saying that and it bothered David how sad he looked. Sad and worried and that wasn’t how this day was supposed to go.

Picking at the blanket with the fingers of his left hand, David avoided eye contact, his voice sounded rough to his own ears as he whispered, “I’m okay, guys. Really.” He shifted a bit to ease the ache that seemed to have settled deep in his bone and it took biting his lip to stifle a yelp of pain. All at once everything hurt. His head, his shoulder, his ribs, his arm and his thigh. Pretty much his entire right side.

Neal was hovering over him in an instant. “Dave?” When David couldn’t reply, because opening his mouth would mean whimpering in pain, Neal turned to the others in a near panic. “Get the fucking doctor in here! NOW!”

As if on cue the door opened and a man in a white-lab coat entered. He took one look at David and hustled over to check on him.

David felt gentle fingertips ghost over his face then skim his arm before settling at his wrist on the pulse point. He managed to catch his breath enough to say, “I’m fine.” He seemed to be saying that a lot and he wished it was the complete truth, but once in a while a white lie or two came in handy. “Just…just moved wrong.”

“Movement of any kind is going to be painful for a while, I’m afraid, “The doctor responded. “You took one hell of a beating, Mr. Cook. Just to give you a run down, you have cracked ribs, deep bruising of your forearm, shoulder and thigh and a mild concussion. I’ve bound your ribs and you’re going to need to take it easy for a few days. In fact, I’d like to keep your for observation for the next twenty-four hours.”

“I’m not staying.” David was adamant on that point, but he had a feeling the intensity of his tone was lacking. He was also pretty sure he was slurring a bit and that confused him.

The doctor seemed to catch on to his confusion. “I’ve got you on strong pain meds and that’s another reason I want to keep an eye on you. Not to mention the blood pressure issues your manager told me about. That said, there is an officer who would like to speak with you and since I’m pretty sure your next round of meds is going to put you out like a light in about twenty minutes, I think it’s best I send him in and then everyone needs to clear out so you can rest.”

Before David could protest the meds thing and the staying over night thing, Neal spoke up.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he growled. Parking his ass in a nearby chair as he spoke, Neal made his point perfectly clear. And, not so surprisingly, no one objected, not even the doctor.

Which David was grateful for. He didn’t want to stay here, and he fully intended to make a getaway in the very near future, but it was nice to know Neal wasn’t going to abandon him.

Art popped his head in the door at that moment. He locked his eyes on David, moving straight to the end of his bed and looking worried and a bit guilty. “David…I am so sorry this happened,” he blurted out.

“Not your fault,” David was quick to reply. “Just bad luck and bad timing, or something.”

“Some asshole did this on purpose!” Neal spat out, eyes glowing dark with anger. “Bastard is going to pay in kind. I promise you that.”

David believed him, but he made a mental note to talk to Neal about his need for revenge. Not that he wasn’t behind the idea of getting even with the jerk who’d used him like a punching bag, but David wanted to believe there was a reason behind why this had happened to him. A reason he could get behind and find the heart to forgive and forget. Not that forgetting would be easy. At least not until his body had a chance to do some healing. Which he would will it to do as fast as possible. Cancelling the show tonight was eating away at David, so there was no way in hell he was going to miss another one. Which gave him two days to be up to par.

Art was talking again and it took David a moment to focus.

“I spoke to a rep from the college,” Art was saying. “She’s going to put us up in the hotel and the college will pay all bills incurred.”

“That’s not necessary!” David protested. It wasn’t the college’s fault this had happened.

Art patted him gently on the leg. “It’s a done deal. And she wanted me to let you know how sorry she is for what happened and if you need anything just ask.”

David sighed and let his eyes close for a moment. He felt bone tired and he wished he could just go to sleep and wake up to find out this was nothing more than a bad dream. But he knew it was real and that he had to face up to it. “I feel like we’re jumping the gun on everything,” he whispered. “We don’t even know who did this.”

“I think we do,” called a voice from the doorway. A heavy-set man with graying hair and dressed in a dark blue suit offered a grim smile. “Detective Morgan,” he stated, moving into the room. “I have a few questions to ask you, Mr. Cook, but I also have answers to the questions I’m sure you’re dying to ask me.”

“I just want to know who did this and why,” David said softly. Although, at the moment, he felt so damn worn out and achy that he wasn’t sure he was up to knowing the truth.

“I can answer both of those questions,” Detective Morgan replied.

“Bout time!” Neal muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear him.

David felt relief wash over him, along with a wave of trepidation. But he needed to make sense of what had happened to him. After scrubbing a weary hand over his face he requested of Michelle, “Bring everyone in. We all need to hear this.” He knew everyone was angry and worried and it would be easier if they all heard what Detective Morgan had to say for themselves, rather than trying to repeat it later.

There was silence in the room, and even the doctor hovered quietly in the corner. It occurred to David that he didn’t know the man’s name. A trivial issue at best, at this point.

A moment later Joey and Kyle entered the room with Michelle. David managed to smile at them, trying to let them know he was okay. “Looks worse than it is,” he told them, as they moved closer and looked at him with shock.

Joey looked particularly upset and David realized he was feeling guilty. “Hey!” David said sharply, catching Joey’s eye. “Don’t even go there. Okay? This was not your fault.”

“If I’d run with you this wouldn’t have happened,” Joey shot back, stubbornly, a mulish expression on his face.

“Don’t be stupid,” David countered, anger welling up. Anger that wasn’t directed at Joey but at this situation. In the course of getting the shit beat out of him, for no reason that he could comprehend, the action had affected each and every one of them in some definable way. It pissed David off that his friends were suffering right along with him.

Joey shook his head at him. “I should have stayed with you,” he insisted.

David sighed. “Keep it up and I’ll tell Neal to kick your ass! He’s itching to hit someone.” It was meant to be a joke, to lighten up the mood in the room, but it fell flat given the current circumstance that brought them all here together.

It was Neal who prompted Detective Morgan to spill what he knew. “So who’s the asshole who did this to Dave?” he queried, cutting right to the chase.

“His name is Brian Werner,” Det. Morgan replied, his tone gruff and serious. “He’s a basically a jock with hopes for a career in engineering and this was his senior year.”

“Was?” David interjected.

Det.Morgan shrugged. “Seems he’s flunking this semester so he’ll have take it over next year or drop out. Not that it matters now. He’s in a cell cooling his heels.”

Neal looked pleased for a moment, until he asked, “Why the fuck did he beat the shit out of Dave?”

“Jealousy,” Det. Morgan replied. “To fill in the blanks as quickly and precisely as I can - His girlfriend is a fan of yours, Mr. Cook. She had plans to go to your concert tonight and when she heard it was cancelled and that you had been taken to the hospital she called us. She’s the one who tipped us off about her boyfriend being the guy we were looking for. He was drunk when we picked him up and we didn’t even have to prod him to get a confession. I just need to hear what happened in your own words, Mr. Cook, then we can wrap this up and you can concentrate on getting better. Unless things change he’s going to plead guilty and do his time without complaint. He even asked me to apologize to you. I think the reality of what he did took time to seep into his pickled brain, but he knows he did wrong and that he’s going to pay for it.”

“Pay for it how?” David asked. He’d heard everything the Detective had said, but it wasn’t making sense. It seemed far too simplified for what had happened. Why the hell would someone beat him up because of jealousy. What was he jealous of?

Neal was the one who replied. “Who cares how? Hopefully lots of jail time. Bastard!”

David looked at Det. Morgan. “You said he attacked me because of jealousy. I don’t get it. What was he jealous of?” It was the one question that now burned in his soul. The one thing that made zero sense.

“Jealous of you, Mr. Cook,” Morgan replied. “His girlfriend confirmed that he hated the very sound of your name and that she intended to break up with him because he’d become a jerk about it.” As if reading David’s confusion, he added, “It’s not going to add up because jealousy is never anything but senseless and stupid. It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do, Mr. Cook. It was just some stupid, drunk jock acting out on his insecurities.”

“And ruining his future because of it,” David muttered, because the thought of that bothered him as well. Detective Morgan had it right. This whole thing was senseless and stupid and David wanted out of it. At the very least he wanted out of here.

Locking eyes with Art, David stated, “I want out of here.”

Art shook his head at him. “Not happening. You need time to rest and heal, David. Doctor’s orders.”

A doctor who, at this moment, was fiddling with David’s IV.

David opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, but his lips started to tingle a bit as a heavy warmth stole over him, wrapping him up and dragging him down into darkness.

THE END...of part 3

David Cook is my #1 hobby, but STAR TREK takes #2 spot

Sun, 10 May 2009 21:25:26 GMT

STAR TREK the movie is made of WIN! Now, if I could somehow get David Cook in the next Star Trek movie, I would die a happy fangurl! My 2 loves/worlds would truly collide and it would be AWESOME!

Thu, 30 Apr 2009 00:49:19 GMT

Fave Person Meme
angelicfruicake tagged me with David. Heh ::Hugz you::

1. Do you like this person?
I lurve me some David Cook. Like isn't meaningful enough. He's an amazing singer, and amazing person. What's not to like/love.

2. How do you call this person?
Since I don't know him I don't call him anything to his face. Heh. But when speaking about him on boards and with friends who love him too, I calls him David or Dave.

3. Which color do you associate with this person?
Green. A mix of greens really. Because of his eyes and because of his Irishness and because he looks great in green.

4. What do you like best about his/her look?
That he never looks the same. From his everchanging looks/transformation on Idol to his continuing changes post Idol. And so far, other than faux mohawk hair, I've pretty much like/loved all his looks.

5. Looking at his/her character, what blood type do you think he/she has?
Not a clue. Don't get the connection.

6. What do you want to tell that person?
Thank you - For giving me music again. For helping me become a better person by example. For the alpha waves of your amazing voice that soothes me when troubled. For simply being you.

7. What do you want to do with this person: hug, kiss or shake?
Hug. David just looks so huggable. And I've heard he gives great hugs.

8. Pick five of your friends and pick one person for them:
Have to give this some thought. My Friends are diverse.

Fic: Purple when bruised...part 2

Sun, 26 Apr 2009 01:50:43 GMT

Title: PURPLE WHEN BRUISED...part 2
Author: Clarkangel
Rating: R for language
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me ::pout::
Summary: David gets whumped and his friends help him deal. Whump and angst galore.

PURPLE WHEN BRUISED...part 2

Neal noticed David fading out on him and panic set in. He looked up at Joey and snapped, “Did you call a fucking ambulance?”

Joey knelt down beside them, reaching out towards David with a shaky hand, but pulling it back suddenly as if afraid his touch would hurt his friend. “I called, they’re coming. Oh god! I can’t believe this happened!”

Before Neal could respond to that he heard voices and looked up from David’s - deathly pale - face to see campus security surrounding them.

“What happened?” Asked the tallest of the three, as he crouched down at David’s feet.

“Hell if I know!” Neal replied, scowling. “I wasn’t here when it happened! If I had been it wouldn’t have happened!

Andy reached out, gripping Neal’s shoulder in a gesture of gentle chiding and comfort combined, then he focused on the security guy. “We found David stumbling towards the building,” he replied, his voice gritty with emotion. “Before that I’d tried calling him on his cell a few times and when he didn’t answer I got spooked so we went looking for him.”

Joey had jumped to his feet and was pacing nervously, but he interjected to say, “He was fine not even half an hour ago. I was with him and he was fine!” He looked scared and sick and remorsed line his features, making him look like he’d aged ten years in just minutes.

“We called for an ambulance,” Neal snarled. “It should be here by now!” As if on cue a siren pierced the air around them.

“I’ll direct them over,” the pudgy security guard offered, taking off at a trot.

Neal wanted to scream at him to run faster, but he knew Andy would tell him to chill out. Only it was hard to be calm when Dave was so pale and still in his arms. Neal couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe that David was lying there, forearm bruised and swollen, blood streaking his temple, body limp yet quivering even in unconsciousness. When they found how who did this, Neal was going to kick the bastard’s ass. Repeatedly. He knew Joey and Andy would side with him on that one, either helping him kick ass or cheering him on.

“What happened?” asked a female voice.

Neal looked up to see that the EMT’s had arrived. The woman was probably in her thirties with dark hair and a kind face. She nudged Andy out of the way to kneel next to David and she touched him with a gentleness that Neal appreciated.

“We don’t know what happened, beyond the obvious,” Andy replied, his tone a bit sharp, revealing his worry for David. “Someone beat him up.”

The woman ignored Andy’s tone, nodding instead as she reached out and patted David on the cheek. “Mr. Cook, can you hear me?”

For some reason Neal wasn’t the least bit surprised that she knew who Dave was. His friend had fans from all over the place and was drawing more and more attention by the day. But all he cared about now was making sure David was okay. So he watched everything the EMT did. He willed David to wake up as she continued tapping his face. Relief washed over Neal when Dave’s eyes flickered open.

The EMT was smiling as her partner took David’s blood pressure. “Mr. Cook, my name is Elaine and my partner and I are going to take good care of you. Can you tell me what happened?

David blinked a few times before seeming able to focus on her face, which worried Neal more than a little. “Wha…” he mumbled, looking confused.

“Do you know where you are, Mr. Cook?” Elaine asked, her tone soft and even, but Neal had a feeling she was just as concerned as he was.

“D-david…call me David.”

Neal felt a twitter of relief at David’s response. His friend was polite to a fault at times, but it was a good sign that Dave was okay.

Elaine smiled at that. “It’s nice to meet you, David. I’m a big fan.” As she spoke her hands ran over David’s arms, starting at his shoulders. He didn’t react to her touch on his left arm, but he flinched and whimpered when she touched his right side.

“You’re hurting him!” Neal snarled, fighting the urge to push her away. He knew she was just doing her job but it hurt to see Dave hurting.

“S’kay,” David replied, gritting his teeth.

Neal stared at his friend, seeing the pain that darkened bright eyes to stormy gray. He wished to hell there was something he could do to take the pain away. Instead he was helpless. He wasn’t an EMT and he didn’t know who the hell had done this to his friend so he could kick some ass. Neal was glad he didn’t have high blood pressure issues, otherwise he would have popped right now. He was that fucking mad and upset.

Elaine glanced at Neal, as if reading his thoughts, nodded, then went back to her examination of David. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked him.

David blinked a few times, as if to steady his focus on her, then grimaced. “Felt like I got hit by a cement truck,” he whispered, wincing a bit as he shifted position, as if trying to sit up.

Elaine pressed a hand to his left shoulder, keeping him still. “That’s okay,” she told him. “Just relax and we’ll get you loaded into the ambulance and on the way to the hospital.”

“I have a show!” David was trying to sit up again, gasping and cradling his ribs, but still working against the obvious pain in an attempt to get up.

“Fuck the show!” Neal snapped, bluntly, startling Dave enough that he froze. “We can reschedule the show. You need to get checked out!” Neal could feel Dave searching his face and he locked eyes with his friend, letting him see that there was no compromise on this. David had a habit of downplaying any sickness or injuries. Even when he’d come down with Meningitis he hadn’t mentioned feeling sick until he’d nearly passed out while in the recording studio, working on Analog Heart. Neal had wanted to smack David upside the head for being so damn stupid about his health.

“We’re doing the show,” David insisted, getting that *stubborn as a damn mule* look in his eye. The look that usually got him the result he wanted, but it wasn’t going to work on Neal this time.

And he said as much. “You’re going to the hospital, Dave. This is non negotiable. I’ll go with you.” Neal looked at Andy. “Go find Art and Michelle and meet us there. He nodded at Joey next. “Grab Kyle, he’s gonna want to be there.”

Elaine’s partner was bringing the gurney over and she stood up to get it ready for David, but interjected with, “We’ll be at Mercy Hospital. It’s straight down highway 108, first exit on your left and about two miles down. Close and easy to get to.

Neal was grateful to her. He got up so he could help get David on the stretcher, but of course his friend refused to let them do all the heavy lifting, so to speak. Instead David held out his good arm to Neal and Neal gripped it in his own. As carefully as he could, he hauled David up enough to get on the gurney. He bit back a wince as David swallowed a moan, stepping away as his friend was strapped in. He watched Andy and Joey say a few words to Dave before heading off to inform everyone else about what happened. Then Neal followed the gurney to the ambulance, resisting the urge to light up a cigarette to soothe his nerves. Instead he got into the back after they had loaded Dave in, and spent the next fifteen minutes praying to a God he wasn’t sure he believed in.

***************

Amy stared at her closet, eyeballing her shirts and frowning. Nothing seemed right for tonight. She was excited about seeing David Cook, live, in concert. She had loved him on American Idol and had texted for him until her fingers went numb. Now she had the chair to see him in person. To be close to him. She had a front row ticket and the hope that she might be able to meet David after he concert, because she knew that he often came out for pictures and autographs after a show.

Since she couldn’t make up her mind about a shirt, she grabbed her cell and called her best friend, Sarah. They were going to the concert together. Sarah didn’t watch Idol, but Amy had gifted her with David’s album when it came out and she was totally codified now.

The moment Sarah answered, Amy blurted out, “Come over and help me pick out the perfect shirt for tonight.”

“You haven’t heard?” Sarah sounded shocked.

“Heard what?” Amy countered, feeling her stomach twist into a knot. She sensed it was going to be bad news.

There was a long moment of silence before Sarah replied, “I don’t know the details, but Kayla texted me she heard that David’s concert for tonight is cancelled.”

Amy was stricken. “No!” she screamed. “Why would they cancel. Didn’t the buses arrive like three hours ago? David wouldn’t cancel!”

“Kayla’s not sure what happened, but rumor has it that David was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.” Sarah sounded remorseful. “Didn’t you tell me that David has blood pressure issues?”

“Yeah…he does.” Amy was suddenly terrified for him. “I’ve gotta go, Sarah. Call me if you hear anything more. I’m gonna go ask around and try and get details.” She hung up before Sarah could reply.

Amy was at the door when a heavy knock sounded. She flung it open to find her boyfriend, Brian, looming in the doorway. They had been fighting for the past week about her going to tonight’s concert. He hated the fact that she was a David Cook fan. Amy had tried to tell him, over and over again, that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. But in regards to anything David Cook, Brian seemed to have selective hearing an inability to get over his overwhelming jealousy. To the point where Amy was seriously considering breaking up with him in the very near future.

Whatever his issues at this moment, she wasn’t ready to deal with him. “Brian, this isn’t a good time. Sarah just told me the concert might be cancelled.” She didn’t care if he bitched at her again, she just wanted to find out what was going on. She had been waiting for over two months for this night.

“I bet it is,” Brian drawled, smirking at her. “Pansy ass Rocker boy isn’t going to make his gig. He’s going to be too busy crying over his boo-boos.”

“What?” Two things occurred to Amy at that moment. One, that Brian was drunk and, two, that he knew something about what had happened to David. “What are you talking about, Brian?”

He shrugged before pushing his way past her into the room. “We had a little talk, your little rocker boy and I. Well, not a whole lot of talking went on. Unless you consider my fist and foot kicking his ass as talking.”

Amy felt horror wash over her, making her feel dizzy as Brian’s words sank in. She stared at him in disbelief, then forced herself to ask, “Are you telling me that you beat up David Cook?”

“Little pansy boy made it easy,” Brian boasted, swaying on his feet and knocking into Amy’s bed stand. “I knocked him down and he didn’t even try to get up.” He looked pleased with himself as he spoke.

“You bastard!” Amy hissed at him, before heading out the door at a run.

THE END...of part 2

PURPLE WHEN BRUISED...part one

Sun, 19 Apr 2009 18:15:07 GMT

Title: Purple When Bruised...part one
Author: Clarkangel
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: I don't own David or the band or anyone else I'm using
Summary: David gets WHUMPED! This story is for Roo, without whom I would not have discovered the AMAZING David Cook. Luvs ya, Roo.

PURPLE WHEN BRUISED...part one

“Hey! When did you get to be Speedy Gonzalez?”

David laughed at Joey’s disgruntled tone as he continued to pull further and further ahead of him. Running was not his favorite thing, but once he put his mind to doing something, his competitive nature made him push himself to the limit and beyond. Hence his finally being able to out run Joey after only three and a half weeks of training.

To be fair, David knew he had a bit of advantage. Joey had gorged himself at lunch an hour ago, where as David had played it smart and stuck with a chicken salad. “Eat my dust, Jazzercize Jonas!” David mocked him, but it was all in fun and they both knew it.

“Ow…cramp!” Joey hissed, coming to a abrupt halt and bending over as he rubbed his side.

Which made David pretty much screech to a stop before running back over to him. “You okay, man?” He was genuinely worried about his friend.

Joey grimaced but nodded. “It’s my own fault for eating like a pig. I should have made Andy run with you.”

“I’ll walk you back to the hotel,” David offered. Luckily the hotel happened to be right next door to the college campus, and since they were only twenty minutes into their run, they wouldn’t have all that far to walk. Besides which, they had been taking a rather circuitous route.

“No…you keep running,” Joey countered, managing a crooked grin. “The cramp’s already gone so I’ll just walk back myself. No reason for you to miss your run. You’ve come a long way in three weeks. Don’t let me mess you up.”

David appreciated that, but he was still worried. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can run later.”

Joey mock-punched him in the shoulder. “I am fine, Dave. Seriously. Go run already, before you cool down.” He shoved David to give him the hint to leave.

“I’m gonna call you in twenty minutes to make sure you made it back okay,” David countered, patting his shorts pocket where his cell phone resided.

“Okay, mom…” Joey drawled, walking backwards from him. He made a shooing gesture with both hands. “Get already.”

David chuckled. “Okay…getting.” He saluted Joey then headed off jogging. A moment later he was back running, reaching a hard-paced stride. He really wanted to run the full three miles of the Race for Hope run/walk. The more money raised for Brain cancer research, the better the odds in his brother’s favor. And the more hope for anyone who suffered the same. This was something David could do that made him feel like he was able to give back some of the amazing goodness that kept washing over him since winning Idol.

So he settled in to beat his personal best time to date. And he might have surprised himself with a new record if a rock-hard body hadn’t bull-dozed into him, slamming David hard down to the ground.

David hit hard, the impact stealing his breath even as his body reacted to the pain in his hip, side, shoulder and elbow. Because he went down so fast he didn’t even have time to try and protect his head, so his right temple slammed into the hard ground, making him see stars.

Stupid…fucking…rockstar wannabe!” The words stabbed into David’s head as he tried to focus on the source. A blurred image wavered before him. A face twisted in anger, eyes almost shooting sparks of hatred. But that was all David could sense about the figure looming over him, because every fiber of his being suddenly became tuned in to the pain that was exploding throughout his body in white-hot bursts.

A sneakered foot slammed into his ribs and David curled into himself, gasping for air. He couldn’t even suck in a decent breath when pain burst through his shoulder then, somehow, instinct kicked in and he managed to protect his head by shielding with his forearm. Until pain rippled throughout his entire arm, throbbing sharply as he was kicked again.

David heard more swearing and the sound of his name, then fingers were gripping his hair, pulling his head up before a fist slammed into his temple and all he saw were burst of lights blinking in and out of a fading darkness. A flash of pain in his hip elicited a grunt from him and he felt himself curling up into a ball, waiting for another flash of pain.

Blessedly, it didn’t come. Not that the pain was gone. It throbbed throughout his veins, pooling in specific places like his head and arm and ribs, making him feel sick and dizzy.

There was a strange sound in his ears. Something that infiltrated past the white noise of pain. It took a moment for him to identify the sound. His cell phone. Swallowing a groan as he tried to roll over so he could reach the phone, David suddenly found himself yanked upright and almost off the ground by a pair of beefy hands. David blinked hard, trying to bring the blurred face in front of him into focus.

“You fucking bastard piece of shit!” Snarled a gravelly voice. “Think you own women because you sing and won some fucking stupid reality show! Think you’re hot shit!”

David wanted to deny the accusations but he couldn’t get his voice to work. Not that what he was hearing made any sense. He couldn’t think clearly. There was nothing to focus on but the pain that was coursing through his body from head to toe, making him nauseous and dizzy with it. The hands shaking him like a rag doll weren’t helping. And none of this made sense. One minute he’s running and the next he’s being screamed at by some dude.

“Shit!” Gravel-voice cursed as David’s phone went off again and, without warning, he dropped David like a rock.

Hitting the ground again hurt like a bastard and David’s breath froze in his lungs as he tried to ride out the pain. By the time he could breathe again his phone had gone silent. David made an attempt to reach it but his muscles didn’t want to work right. It took all of his concentration to keep breathing through the pain that crackled through him.

Time seemed to move sluggishly around him as David realized he needed to get up and find someone to help him. It seemed to take forever to roll onto his knees and he stayed there a moment, unbalanced and trying not to puke. His right side burned with pain from his temple to his shoulder, down his forearm and ribs. Breathing became a labored effort because each inhale was like stabbing a knife into his side and temple.

But David was determined to stand up. He knew he had to get up. So he pushed with his good arm and somehow made it to his feet. His legs felt rubbery, but he stared down at his feet and forced them to move. First step on his right foot and he almost hit the ground again. His hip and thigh throbbed in pulses of pain, adding to the tidal wave of pain washing over him.

But he kept going. One step then another, limping and shaky and curled over to one side so that he was mostly lurching along. Step by - agonizing - step, David made his way towards the nearest campus building. He stumbled several times, breath hitching in his lungs, until a wave of dizziness sent him to his knees and he emptied his stomach onto the grass. He could feel himself shaking as he dry-heaved, his ribs screaming at him and he found it almost impossible to catch his breath.

“Dave!”

He heard his name being called but he couldn’t lift his head. Then suddenly hands were on him and he flinched and tried to pull away.

“Jesus, Dave!” hissed a familiar voice. Neal. “What the hell happened to you?”

Another familiar voice was saying, “Joey, call 911!” It was Andy on his other side and David was grateful, but feeling too sick and dizzy to say anything. Like no 911. He just wanted to go lie down somewhere after downing half a bottle of aspirin.

“Dave, what happened?” It was Andy asking.

He wanted to tell them but it was too much effort to form the words and spit them out. Besides which, he really wasn’t too sure what had happened or why. What he did know was that everything hurt and as much as he was comforted by the hands supporting him now, they were causing him more pain. David heard himself whimper when hands jostled his ribs and pulled at his shoulder and suddenly the voices around him faded and he felt himself falling into oblivion.

THE END...of part one

Happy St. Paddy's day to everyone, but...

Tue, 17 Mar 2009 10:16:59 GMT

Why no posts since last night? Did something happen?

David Cook: He makes or breaks my day!

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 13:17:02 GMT

Another year of AI. Yep. Don't care beyond catching DC tidbits. So far the DC pimping has been AWESOME!

I'm so happy for him and feeling like a proud parent. He's come so far so fast. Platinum Magic Rainbow, Gold for Light On, gold - soon to be platinum -for the RECORD/album.

Fantastic appearances everywhere he's appeared. Imagine singing a song for Hilary Clinton at Carnegie Hall? Woot. He was beyond awesome at SNL! Seriously, just awesome whereever he goes. The dude can SING!

Thank you, Roo ::Hugz Roo:: For being persistant in your quest to get me to watch David Cook. I can't thank you enough. There is a bit of drama here and there in Cook fandom, but nothing like what I suffered through with SGA.

So, THANK YOU - David Cook. And here's to another banner/BIGGER year in 2009.

I will follow wherever you lead cause I know you're gonna leave the LIGHT ON!

I has a beautiful new header! SQUEEEE

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 17:47:32 GMT

Thanks to Roo's amazing sister Hannah who isn't obsessed with Cookie but is made of COMPLETE WIN! THANK YOU, sweetie!!! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Fic: Feeling The Heat

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 00:44:24 GMT

Title: Feeling the Heat
Author: Merlin7/Clark angel
Disclaimer: Not mine. I wish David had a clone I could have though.
Pairing: Group. David centric with Carly and Michael on the side
Rating: T to be safe language wise.
Summary: This is for ROO who introduced me to DC. I would not have this obsession without her. So this is Cookie sick with a fever and surrounded by his friends. Takes place after DC won and the gang is on tour. It’s really just a short bit of fluffy whump.

Feeling The Heat

Two days off. They had two whole days off. Only two weeks into the tour and everyone was as excited as a kid at Christmas to have two days off. The concert last night had gone well and everyone was excited to be on tour, but it was surprisingly taxing, especially to those who had never done this kind of thing before.

David had never played venues this big, but he had done the traveling from show to show route and he knew how exhausting it could be. Which was why everyone had been so happy to sleep in a hotel room last night, instead of on the bus. He’d been pretty happy about it himself.

Now they were all gathered in the dining room of the hotel, being treated to a private breakfast buffet. It made David happy to see his friends so happy and chattering about what to do today. He was glad for these two days as well. They were the only two days off he was really getting. Once the tour started up again, he would start work on his album, so he would spend his days recording, his nights performing and in between there would be the extras of interviews and photo shoots for things to come and the like. It was going to be extreme, but he loved what he was doing so he would embrace it all with a smile.

“What do you want to do today, mate?” Michael asked, as he sat down next to David. He had a plate full of food and a mug of coffee.

“Haven’t thought that far ahead,” David replied as he toyed with his glass of orange juice. He’d woken up with a headache and a general feeling of blah. A hot shower had helped the blah feeling somewhat, but the headache was still nagging him.

Michael started to dig into his food, but stopped when he noticed David didn’t have a plate. “You eat already/’

David shook his head, making a face. “Not hungry. I’ll grab something later.” Way later, maybe, because right now just smelling the eggs on Michael’s plate was making him a bit nauseous. “I’m gonna go for a walk,” he announced, pushing back his chair. “Come find me when you’re done and we’ll plan the day.”
“Will do,” Michael replied, waving goodbye with his fork in hand.

As he walked out, David greeted various other tour mates, until finally escaping outside. Though it was fairly early in the morning, the sun was warm and bright and it felt good against his skin, somewhat chasing away the chill that had plagued him in the air-conditioned dining room.

There was a pool to his left, which they had all indulged in last night after the concert. They didn’t get to stay in a hotel often. In fact this was only the second time, the first being the fourth of July. So David headed for one of the lounge chair and stretched out, closing his eyes.

It was always hard to fall asleep after a performance. The crowd was so receptive to him, and feeling the love and support of the people who had voted for his win was like an adrenaline rush. David loved being able to pay them back by giving them his best. Which meant putting on a show and working the stage and interacting with them, and he loved every minute of it. But coming down from that high was exhausting

Relaxing in the sun felt good. He was starting to feel blah again and he couldn’t seem to shake the damn headache.

“Sugarfoot.”

It took David a moment to realize Carly was calling him. He peeled his eyes open and squinted up at her. “Hey, Tater. What’s up?”

She nudged him over so she could perch on the edge of his lounger. “You feeling all right, David? You look a bit pale.”

He had to laugh at that. “I’m always pale, you goof. You know my color range. White, pink, red, back to white.”

“You look extra white today,” she replied, not looking amused as he had meant her to be. “They push you too hard, sweetie.”

“I’m tough,” David drawled, winking at her. “I can take it.”

Carly finally smiled. “I know you’re tough, for all you’re mushy inside.” She leaned in to give him a hug and he sat up into it. David always welcomed a good hug and Carly gave great ones.

“Thanks for caring,” He mumbled into her hair.

“You make it easy to care, David.” Carly eased back, ruffling his hair for a moment before pressing her cheek to his forehead. “You feel awfully warm. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’ve been baking in the sun for the past…” David broke off to glance at his watch. “…twenty minutes. Of course I’m warm. It feels good.” He still felt a bit chilled inside, not that he shared that fact. Carly had a *mom* complex that got over active at times. Like when he’d had his blood pressure scare. She had watched him like a hawk and mothered and smothered him for over a week after the fact

Carly didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and let it drop. “Michael’s looking for you. He wants to know if you’re interested in hitting the shops. There’s supposed to be some cool vintage places around.”

David had some money to burn, so he was a bit intrigued. “Vintage what?”

“Everything,” Carly replied, grinning. “Instruments, music, clothes, jewelry.” She hooked one of his many chains with a fingertip and teased, “Not that you need anymore bling.”

“Hey!” David protested, unhooking her finger and patting the chain back into place. “I can’t help it if people give me jewelry.”

Carly snorted. “Doesn’t mean you have to wear it all at the same time.”

David pouted at her. “You’re being mean,” he whined, because it was the kind of teasing they did with each other. The kind of teasing he had missed after she had gotten booted off the show. He had missed her so damn much, especially with Michael already gone. So having them back with him now was like living a dream. It was going to suck when the tour ended.

“Come on, let’s go grab Michael before he eats round three,” Carly said, standing up and grabbing David by the hand to haul him to his feet. And she was strong enough to do it.

“You coming shopping with us?” David asked, as they headed inside.

Carly nodded. “Brooke and Rami and Kristy are going makeup and clothes shopping and I’ve had enough of that for now. I’d rather hang with my boys.”

David one-arm hugged her. “I’m so glad we’re back together.” He knew she would get that he meant the three of them.

“Me too.” She hugged him back. “And I’m so glad you won, David. You worked your ass off to get here and you deserve it. I knew from the day I met you that you’d win. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No.” David was surprised to hear her say that. “You didn’t really believe that.”

Nodding decisively, Carly stated, ”I really did. I told Michael you’d win after you did Hello. The moment you put yourself out there for all the world to see, I knew it would be you, Sugarfoot. And I was rooting for you all the way, almost harder than I was rooting for myself.”

David felt inexplicably humbled by that. By her faith in him. He blinked hard, not wanting to cry in front of her because she made fun of him enough about that as it was. “I wish it could have been the three of us at the top. Not that Archie and Syesha aren’t awesome, because they are. I thought Archie had it from the get go, and for sure at the top 2.”

“You do know Simon wanted you to win, right?” Carly reached out and swiped the pad of her thumb under David’s eye, smearing the tell tale wetness. But she smiled fondly at him as she did it.

“We talked about it after I won,” David confessed. “He said a lot of really nice things. He’s a good guy with a bad reputation.”

They both laughed at that, linking arms as they stepped inside and moved down the hallway to the dining room. Where they ran into Michael, who was muching on a danish.

David shook his head at his friend, wishing he could eat like that without gaining an ounce. He was working hard right now to turn his one ab into six, and it was hell. “You have glaze on your nose,” he said, helpfully pointing out the spot to Michael.

Who went cross-eyed trying to see it. He swiped at his nose with his sleeve then held out the half eaten danish. “Want some?”

“Pass.” David suddenly felt nauseous again and, to add to the misery, he got hit with a sudden hot flash. He felt his skin prickle as he broke out into a sweat.

“David?” Carly had noticed his reaction and gripped his arm tighter. “You okay?”

He wanted to tell her yes, but suddenly the floor was tilting under his feet and he felt himself falling. He didn’t hit the ground because hands caught him and eased him down, but everything was shading to gray then swirling into black.

OoO

“David?”

He heard his name being called even as he felt a tapping on his cheek. Both things were annoying and he wanted to be left alone to sleep. Why was someone trying to wake him up anyway? He really wanted to sleep.

“David! Come on, mate! Wake up!”
He knew that voice very well. Michael’s accent always got thicker when he was worried. David couldn’t imagine what he would be worried about. The show was over so they didn’t have to stress about being kicked off or anything. He really just wanted to sleep a bit longer. “G’way,” he mumbled, slapping at the fingers that were tapping on his cheek again.

“Open your eyes, sugarfoot.” It was Carly pleading with him this time.

David wondered if it would make them leave him alone. If opening his eyes would appease them so he could go back to sleep, then open his eyes he would. Although it wasn’t as easy as it should have been. He had to pretty much peel them open then blink rapidly to bring fuzzy faces into focus.

Both Michael and Carly were staring down at him. Michael was the first to speak.

“How are you feeling, mate?”

“Kay,” David whispered, because his head ached and talking loud would make it hurt more. He was sure of it.

Carly pushed Michael aside, leaning in closer, her eyes wide with concern. “The doctor is on his way, David. Just stay with us, okay? And please don’t scare the shit out of me like that again!” She sounded angry and relieved at the same time.

David frowned at her. “What?” he asked, because he was confused. Why was Carly pissed at him for sleeping. Although it hit David, in that moment, that he wasn’t lying in a bed he was lying on the floor with Carly and Michael kneeling beside him. So he tried to sit up.

“Lie still,” Michael ordered, pressing hands to his shoulders to keep him down. “The hotel nurse said you’re to stay put until the doctor arrives.”

“What happened?” David’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, but he got the words out clear enough to be understood. He hoped.

It was Carly who replied. “You passed out, sweetie. Scared the hell out of me and gave me about a thousand gray hairs.”

David was sure he hadn’t heard her right. “I…I passed out?” He thought back to the events that might have led up to that moment and he suddenly remembered walking with Carly to meet up with Michael and something vague about a danish.

“Turned a whiter shade of pale and just collapsed like a house of cards,” Michael confirmed.

“Sorry.” David hated the fact that he had worried his friends. However, what he hated more was lying on the floor and feeling like a freak show attraction. Because there were people lingering around, watching. “I’d really like to get up now!” he hissed, trying to push Michael’s hands off him.

But Michael wouldn’t budge, but it didn’t matter because a stranger with silver-gray hair was suddenly kneeling beside him. David guessed he was the hotel doc.

He was and he introduced himself as Dr. Benton. He was polite and all business, taking vitals, conversing with the nurse lady, asking Michael and Carly what happened and pretty much ignoring David, until he tried to sit up again. Which he almost managed to achieve, until a major headrush made him list to his left and then Michael and Dr. Benton were pushing him back down again.

Things got kinda hazy after that. David felt nauseous, his head ached, his vision kept graying out and the next thing he knew he was in his hotel bed and Carly was sitting beside him, reading a book.

“Hey,” David croaked at her.

“Hey you,” Carly replied, looking relieved. “It’s about time you woke up.”

David frowned at her. “I was sleeping?” Cause the last thing he remembered was lying on the floor in the hallway. But maybe he’d just dreamed that whole scenario.

Carly reached out, smoothing David’s hair off his forehead. “You’ve been in and out of it for a bit,” she allowed. “Long story short, you have an inner ear infection. Dr. Benton gave you a couple of shots and he said you should feel better in a few days.”

“A few days?” David pushed up against the pillows, but regretted the motion when it made him feel vaguely sea sick. “We have a concert tomorrow. Right? I can’t be out of commission for a few days.” There were fans to perform for. It was his only way to say thank you to the people who had spent time and money voting for his win.

“The dates we had to cancel have been rescheduled,” Carly replied. “Don’t worry about it. Just rest.”

David felt tired and ready to sleep for a week, but he had a pressing matter to take care of first. “Need the bathroom,” he whispered, feeling his face flame with embarrassment.

Carly chuckled and patted his arm. “I’ll call Michael. That’s his department. Do you feel up to eating something? I can grab some soup if you’re hungry”

“I’m not.” Even the thought of food made his stomach twist into knots.

“Okay. I’ll go get Michael.” Carly gave him a smile, slid off the bed and exited the room.

The moment she was gone, David shoved the covers back, feeling a bit weirded out to discover he was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt that someone must have dressed him in. He didn’t even want to think about who it might have been.

Inching off the bed, he stood up on wobbly legs, but damn if he wasn’t capable of going to the bathroom by himself. However, the first step he took he ended up on all fours on the floor, panting through a wave of nausea.

“Idiot,” Said a familiar accent next to his ear and David kept his eyes closed as he felt Michael lift him to his feet.

“This sucks,” David whispered, as he was guided across the room. He was grateful that Michael was big and strong because he knew he wasn’t pulling his own weight much. His legs felt like rubber and he was pretty much just stumbling along.

The arm that was looped around David’s waist gave him a gentle squeeze. “I bet it does,” Michael allowed. “But the Doc said you should feel better in a couple of days.”

David risked slanting his eyes open and he was relieved to see they were at the bathroom. He took things into his own hands for the next five minutes, then they made the slow trek back to the bed.

Carly was there, waiting to tuck him in. David felt so crappy, he welcomed her ministrations. Once snuggled back under the covers, he did accept a glass of water and took a few sips, then he curled up on his side and closed his eyes. “Thanks guys,” he whispered. He would take them out to dinner when he was feeling better, for a proper show of appreciation.

“You’re welcome, hon,” Carly replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Sweet dreams. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

David believed her. So he let his thoughts drift away as warm darkness gathered him into her sweet embrace.

THE END

Fic: TRANSFORMATION

Sat, 24 May 2008 04:12:40 GMT

I love David Cook and I'm so thrilled he won American Idol to the point where I had to write fic. So here it is.

Title: Transformation
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just writing about a real boy.
Rating: T for language
Summary: This is from Carly's POV about how David has changed since the beginning and what's to come.

TRANSFORMATION

It was a good thing she had a big heart, Carly thought to herself, as she felt the confetti falling on her head. She loved her husband more than she’d ever thought it possible to love another human being, but he had to share space in her big heart with another man. David Cook. Who was smiling and crying and singing his heart out as the world lauded their new American Idol. She was so damn proud of him.

He had earned this moment, he truly had. They had all worked so hard to get there, but no one had worked harder than Cookie. He was the real deal, the entire package. He had the kind of talent that made her feel a bit in awe of him most of the time. Like now. Right now she felt her heart swell with love and pride as she watched him doing his thing. He was so beautiful in this moment, making her catch her breath as she watched him, remembering the first time she had met him.

They had clicked from the start, falling into a deep and easy friendship. He had caught her eye from the beginning with his faux hawk, nerdy clothes, perfect smile and gorgeous eyes. They were both fair-skinned, both had tats and she had noticed a touch of red in the soul patch he used to sport. Right from the start there had been something about him that had drawn her to him like a magnet. And she hadn’t been alone in being mesmerized. He had pulled everyone into his realm and they’d all gone willingly.

Carly didn’t think she could be happier had she been the one standing in the spotlight right now. It was impossible not to be thrilled for Cookie. Impossible not to want this for him. And, being typical Cookie, he was bringing them all along for the ride, gathering them together, making them a team again. Always. That was Cookie and she loved him for that, so much it almost hurt.

She was so caught up in watching him that it took Carly a moment to realize he’d finished singing. She smiled wider as she watched him and MJ hug. In many ways Cookie was the team leader of them all, but MJ was Cookie’s mentor and they had a beautiful friendship that warmed her heart.

Then they were all hugging Cookie and he was looking happier than she had ever seen him look. He was glowing with happiness and it was well deserved. He hugged them all, then they ended up drifting off stage and David bounced up and down, almost dancing through the blanket of confetti and he looked like a little boy at Christmas. Best Christmas ever, no doubt.

He had been in the spotlight for months and she knew how hard it was to feel like you were under a microscope, every nuance of who you were being studied and dissected, so Carly slipped away, wanting to give David some space. He deserved the chance to absorb this moment on his own, to imprint it into his heart and memory for all time.

It seemed like as good a time as any for a bathroom break, before heading to the VIP party. So she headed down the hallway and spent a bit of time preening in the mirror before stepping out and almost colliding with Cookie. He was laughing as he reached out to steady her.

“I thought you’d left already,” he said, making it sound almost like an accusation.

“Potty break,” Carly replied, drawing him into a hug. Cookie hugs were the best and he gave them freely. Resting against his solid warmth, Carly could almost feel him vibrating with joy. “Congratulations, Cookie,” she whispered. “You deserve this so much.”

He squeezed her, just right, vibrations shifting into tremors. “Thanks, tater,” he breathed against her neck. “Can’t believe it’s real.”

Carly hugged him, hard. “Believe it, Cookie. It’s as real as it gets.” Easing back, she looked into his eyes, seeing the wet brightness in his gorgeous hazel eyes. But he had earned his tears as well. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Wouldn’t have made it here without you,” he shot back, swiping a hand over his eyes. “You’ve always had my back.”

“Always will,” she assured him

David shook his head and exhaled slowly, one hand pushing through his hair and ruffling it so it stood on end, reminding Carly of his early hairdo’s. He had changed so much since the beginning. Not his heart or soul or personality, but his looks. He had always been beautiful to her, and inside he was as exquisite as they come, but somewhere along the way he had become as painfully beautiful on the outside and she wondered if he realized it. Wondered if it would matter. Cookie would always be Cookie. Always be true to himself.

As if snagging onto the general theme of her thoughts, he locked eyes with her and said, “It’s been a long and winding road, Tater. Can you believe the word nerd with the bad hair and no charisma is the American Idol for 2008?”

“Yes, I can,” Carly replied, reaching out to smooth an errant lock of his hair back into order. He was going to be facing an army of press in a few minutes and she wanted him to be tidy because this was television and they all knew it was all about appearances. “I’m so glad it’s you and that you did it your way. You never sold out.”

“Wasn’t ever an option,” David drawled, but his sincerity was viable. “I just got to be meeeeeeee….” he sang, straight-faced for maybe thirty seconds, then he dissolved into laughter. “It feels like a dream. Seriously. And I’m scared to death I’m going to wake up any second and…poof…it’ll be gone.”

Shaking her head, Carly hugged him again before whispering,”It’s real and no one can ever take it from you, love. You own this.”

He squeezed her and inhaled sharply, sniffing back tears. Before he could reply, however, someone called his name. It was time to move on and back into the spotlight.

Carly gave him a gentle shove. “The world awaits,” she teased gently.

“Yikes.” David straightened his shirt, tugging at the hem, and only then realizing it was unbuttoned up to his sternum. “Oh god,” he groaned. “I freaking flashed thirty-million people.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Carly assured him. “You’ve got a lovely tummy. Lovely everything. No reason to hide it.”

There was a moment of silence as David stared at her, his eyes flashing a *Thank you* at her repeatedly. Then he was tugging at his shirt again and almost shuffling his feet. “See you at the party?”

Carly nodded. “I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She watched him nod then walk away, smiling as he pulled himself together with each echoing step of his booted feet. This was his moment to shine and she wanted him to glory in it because she was pretty sure this was the only space to breathe he was going to get.

David Cook was the American Idol, but he was so much more than that. His transformation during the past eight months was mind-boggling and beautiful, but it was just the beginning.

Not wanting to miss a moment, Carly ran to catch up, giggling as she caught David having stopped and now bending over to pick something up off the floor. Which afforded her a great view of his ass, and a mighty fine ass it was. She might be married, and deeply in love with her husband, but she wasn’t blind.

David Cook was the entire package. Beautiful, smart, talented and with a heart as big as the great outdoors. But he had only just begun to shine.

Carly made a mental note to buy a pair of metaphorical sunglasses, cause she was damn well going along for the ride,.

Catching up, she patted him on the ass, watching him jump and straighten up, looking shocked. But then he was grinning at her.

“Hand’s to yourself, tater,” he mock-warned her.

Which was all the challenge she needed to dig her fingers into his ribcage, making him explode with laughter. It was music to her ears and his smile was radiant.
“When did you get to be so beautiful?” she whispered, feeling a bit awed as she stared at him.

David blushed, shaking his head. “It’s all smoke and mirrors,” he whispered.

Carly knew better than that. “Not you, Cookie,” she replied. “You’re the real deal.”

“DAVID, COME ON!” an impatient voice shouted at him.

“You’re public awaits. Go wow them.” Carly nudged him forward. He smiled at her, eyes suspiciously bright again, before turning and walking towards his future.

David Cook was a star who was transforming into a superstar with every second that passed swiftly by, as molten and dazzling as quick-silver. Carly knew in her heart that he would always burn bright and he would always be beautiful. Catch your breath and forget how to breathe beautiful.

And she felt warmed by the glow.

THE END

Fic: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy...part one

Mon, 18 Feb 2008 23:43:43 GMT

TITLE: The Grass is Greener on the Other Side of the Galaxy
AUTHOR: Merlin7/Clark angel
RATING: T
DISCLAIMER: Not mine
ARCHIVE: Anywhere
SUMMARY: Shep whump post Trio events. Sam returns to the SGC for a few weeks, leaving Shep in charge of Atlantis. Things don’t go as planned.

THE GRASS IS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GALAXY…part one

John was sitting in Carter’s office, behind her desk, eyeing the laptop with disdain. With the Colonel out of commission with a broken leg, John was charged with taking over her duties until Keller released her back to duty. Estimated release date was three to four days. John sighed. He really hated paper work. He hated sitting at this desk more, because being there was a painful reminder that Elizabeth wasn’t.

Shaking off such thoughts, John made himself tap the enter key and start reading reports. Carter was off duty, but she still wanted to be updated, which meant John had to slog through the daily reports. He wondered if it would be cheating to have Lorne do it then give him the cliff notes. But as tempting as that idea was, John knew he wouldn’t pass the buck. Carter trusted him to do the job, so he would do it. However, he was going to need bout three more cups of coffee if he was going to stay awake long enough to get through twenty-three more reports.

Pushing away from the desk, John stood up and took a moment to stretch the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. He’d already been at this for four hours and it promised to be a long day. Maybe he’d grab a sandwich to go with his coffee. The hollow feeling in his stomach reminded John that he’d forgotten to stop for breakfast. Although it wasn’t so much that he had forgotten as he’d ended up working through breakfast.

After only managing to get three hours of sleep, John had been awakened by Lt. Bays to mediate a situation between one of the botanists and one of Rodney’s engineers. Since Rodney needed his sleep, thanks to the stress of what he called - being trapped in a big hole with two annoying women for what felt like days - John had handled the argument himself. Which had to do with the botanist accusing the engineer of stealing a plant. Which turned out to be the engineer actually stealing a few rose-like blooms to offer to the botanist as a sign of his affection. But it had taken 4 hours for the engineer to fess up.

Carter had gotten a kick out of the story when John had radioed her from her office. She had been willing to let him forgo documenting the event so, officially, it never happened. But John had still missed breakfast.

Heading for the door, he hadn’t taken one step out when his radio beeped. John sighed and tapped the ear piece. “Sheppard here.”

“It’s Colonel Carter,” Came the reply.

“Everything okay, Colonel?” John countered, because she sounded a bit tense.
There was a moment of silence before she replied, “Everything is fine. But I need you to come to the infirmary ASAP. We need to talk, John.”

That sounded serious and John found himself running scenarios through his head. But he couldn’t think of anything he might have done that would get him yelled at. “Be right there,” he responded, then he tapped off.

Five minutes later he was standing next to Carter’s bed. She had a private corner, curtained off, and she was propped up against several pillows, with another pillow holding her heavily-casted leg. She was smiling, which was a good sign, and gesturing to her open laptop that was perched on her blanket-clad thighs.

“Thanks for your prompt response, John,” she stated.

“Thanks for the rescue,” he countered, a bit cheekily.

Carter chuckled. “Daily reports?”

John nodded, hands clasped behind his back and rocking slightly on his heels. “So…what’s up? You sounded a bit odd on the radio. Some type of emergency?” He tried to glimpse what was on her laptop screen, but the angle was all wrong and all he could see was blue screen and a bit of glare.

“There is an emergency of sorts,” Carter allowed. “But not here. I’m needed at SGC. I have knowledge of a project they’re involved in so I’ll be heading back in the morning.”

“I see.” John didn’t bother to ask what the project was. Carter was as much of a genius as McKay, so he could guess he wouldn’t understand what she was talking about. “How long will you be gone?”

Carter shrugged, wincing a bit as her bruises protested the movement. “Upwards to six weeks, maybe longer. Which actually is advantageous to everyone. I don’t need mobility for the project the way I do here on Atlantis.”

John knew what she was saying and she had a point. For all she was technically a pencil pusher now, running Atlantis meant being able to get around the city as needed. “They sending Caldwell in your place?” he asked, figuring the man was the logical choice.

“You’ll be running things while I’m gone, John,” Carter replied, watching his reaction and cutting him off with the wave of one hand before he could respond. “Don’t look so surprised. “It won’t be the first time you’ve been in charge. You did a hell of a job running the place before I got the position.”

“I ran things out of necessity,” John reminded her.

Carter nodded, her expression letting him know she understood his position. “Doesn’t change the fact that you did good and that you were on the short list. I know I’ll be leaving Atlantis in good hands. It makes it easier to go, knowing I can trust you to take care of things.”

John appreciated her faith in him, but he really didn’t want to deal with the added responsibility. “You know, Rodney would love the chance to run things. He does bossy well.”

“I want to come back to the City in the same condition I left it in,” Carter countered, leaving no doubt as to her meaning and her concerns.

“Rodney might surprise you,” John continued pleading his case, because he could handle the job for the couple of days while Carter was in the infirmary, but the idea of six weeks in charge left a bad taste in his mouth and his gut coiling into knots. Like he’d told her. He’d done the job before out of necessity, but he’d prefer not to be in that position again. And the few other times he’d run things in her place since she’d started, it had only been for a day or two at a shot.

Offering up puppy-dog eyes, John made one last attempt at getting out of the job. “I still have nightmares about the paperwork. I really suck at that. Think of all the reports you’ll have to fix when you get back.

Carter studied John, her gaze intense. “I need you to do this for me, John. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

“Crap,” John muttered, because he knew he’d lost the battle. “No more than six weeks though, right?” He wanted her promise on that one.

“That’s the plan,” Carter replied, narrowing her gaze at him. “But we both know how things can change. But I’ll make every attempt to be back in six weeks.”

Since he knew Carter would keep her word, John nodded. “Okay then. Good luck with your project.”

Carter looked relieve. “Thank you. I’ll be released to my quarters around dinner time. Why don’t you bring some trays and I’ll update you on everything you need to know.”

“Sounds like a plan,” John allowed. “I’ll let you rest.” He gave a mock salute then he turned and made his way out of the infirmary.

OoO

After leaving Carter, John headed for the messhall. He wasn’t exactly hungry anymore, but he knew he needed to get something in his stomach besides coffee. Although he fully intended to grab another cup, or three, to take back to the office.

When he got there he went through the line and grabbed a turkey sandwich and an apple, along with a cup of fresh coffee. Turning with his tray, he spotted Teyla, Ronon and Rodney in the corner. Ronon was waving him over.

“Hey guys,” John drawled as he reached them. He sat down and reached for his coffee mug first.

“How is Colonel Carter doing?” Teyla queried.

John stared at her, wide-eyed. “Are you psychic now? How did you know I was with the Colonel?”

Teyla laughed softly, eyes flashing with amusement. “I went to visit her and you were already there and Jennifer informed me that Colonel Carter wished to have a private conversation with you.”

“Oh.” John realized he was way more tired than he had thought, because he normally would have figured out such a scenario on his own. He knew he was wound up about being in charge again. He wasn’t even sure why it was bugging him so much this time.

“Why did Sam want to have a private conversation with you?” Rodney interjected, looking irritated.

John sighed and took a long swig of coffee before replying. “She’s heading back to SGC for six weeks and she wanted to inform me that I’m in charge of Atlantis until she gets back.”

Teyla looked concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“They need her for some project she was involved with in the past,” John replied. “And she figures she’s more useful there until she heals.”

“Why are you in charge?” Rodney demanded. “Why is it always you?”

John stared at his coffee, pondering that very same thing. After a moment he reached for his sandwich and slowly unwrapped it. “Can’t answer that, Rodney,” he said before he took a bite.

Rodney glared at him. “I should be in charge. I’d be good at it!” He had his arms crossed over his chest and was practically pouting. But he spoiled the effect by wincing and hissing “Ow!” While shaking his, still bandaged, hands.

“Go for it,” John replied around a mouthful of turkey. “If you can talk Carter into it, be my guest. I’d prefer not to do it.”

“Seriously?” Rodney looked surprised by his response.

“Seriously,” John drawled, nodding. He started to take another bite of his sandwich but dropped it back to his plate. He really wasn’t all that hungry now, especially since his head was starting to throb. The almost headache he’d started out the day with was threatening to become full blown. “Seriously, Rodney,” John confirmed. “You can be in charge. Clear it with Carter and the job is yours.”

Rodney scowled at him. “She won’t put me in charge. But you can do it after she leaves.”

It was tempting, but John shook his head. Stupid move. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the pain, as he replied, “Doesn’t work that way and you know it.”

“It’s not fair,” Rodney grumbled. “Why won’t she put me in charge. I’d be great at it.”

“Says you,” Ronon commented, around a mouthful of sandwich. Which looked to be his third, if the wrappers on his plate were any indication.

Rodney glowered at him, then turned back to John. “Why are you so unhappy? You get to run the place. Again!”

John just shrugged and picked up his apple, buffing it against his shirt sleeve. “It’s not that much fun, Rodney. Mostly just a lot of paper work and listening to complaints.”

“You’re just mad because it means you can’t go off world much,” Ronon interjected, waving a cookie in John’s direction.

“That too,” John confirmed, because that was a big part of why he didn’t like running Atlantis. It meant being stuck behind the proverbial desk, instead of out and about with his team. Running the military and leading his team were one thing. Being in charge of Atlantis was just one giant headache.

Teyla reached out and touched his arm, drawing John’s attention. She was calm and smiling warmly at him. “You do well at running the city, John. And it is only for a short while.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. And I’m sure the six weeks will fly by.” He took one bite from his apple, finished off his coffee then stood up and grabbed his tray. “I’ve got an inventory check to do so I’ll see you guys later.” John locked eyes with Ronon. “You gonna be around for some sparring?”

“Be in the gym all day,” Ronon replied.

“Good. See you later.” John waved to his companions then strode off. He dumped his tray then headed for the nearest transporter. He was going to need a handful of Tylenol to get him through the rest of this day.

OoO

Keller made John sit through a quick exam, frowning a bit when she took his blood pressure. John didn’t think it was because of the reading so much as the fact that she was having a difficult time working the equipment, since her palms were still bandaged.

John decided to pretend like he didn’t notice. When she was done he slid off the bed and asked, “So, can I have the aspirin?”

“You can,” Keller allowed. “And it probably wouldn’t hurt if you took them then laid down for a quick nap. You look tired, Colonel.”

John nodded carefully, mindful of his aching head. “That’s what happens when up you get called in after three hours of sleep. I’ll catch up tonight.” At least he hoped he would. Going to bed early and getting a good eight hours was certainly on his *to do* list for today.

Keller narrowed her gaze at him, as if uncertain she could trust his word. But after a moment she turned away and rummaged in a nearby cabinet. She turned back and held out two, tin foil, packets of white pills. “Take one every six hours and if the headache isn’t gone by the time you’re done, come back and see me.”

“You’re giving me the good stuff,” John commented, as he studied the packets before tucking them in his pocket. He would down one the moment he left and could grab some bottled water. He wasn’t desperate enough to try dry swallowing horse pills.

“I know you’re going to have a busy few weeks ahead of you, Colonel,” Keller countered, gesturing over her should at the bed in the corner, where Colonel Carter was presently asleep. “I know that she’s leaving in the morning and that you’ll be in charge again.”

John sighed. “Yeah…don’t remind me. Technically, I’m already in charge again.”

Keller let an amused smile curve her lips. “You don’t look happy about it.”

“You’re very perceptive,” John drawled, waggling a finger at her. “I’d rather be out in the field. Running this city is a tad bit out of my comfort zone.”

“I know the feeling.” Keller looked suddenly lost in thought, but shook herself out of it quickly enough. “I wasn’t ready to be put in this position. It was a really crappy way to get a job I didn’t even want.”

John was all too famliar with that particular scenario. He had come to terms with having executed Sumner four years ago. He’d only done what needed to be done. Heading the military contingent on Atlantis had been a by product of his actions. At that point in his life, he had expected his future to involve nothing more than playing air taxi to higher ups in Antarctica. The thought of being in charge of anything hadn’t even crossed his mind. But in the past four years he had learned to accept hi position and the responsibilities that came with it.

Smiling wryly, John reached out and clapped Keller on the shoulder. “It gets easier with time,” he assured her. Then he felt suddenly lost in his own thoughts and memories, as Carson’s face materialized in his head.

There was a long moment of heavy silence between him and Keller, until John willed Carson’s image to shatter. “You’re doing a good job here,” he told her. “Carson would be proud.” John knew that the Scotsman had considered Keller to be a protégé and he’d often mentioned to John how she’d be taking over for him some day. There had been times when Carson thought hard and long about returning home to Scotland and his mother.

John hated the fact that his friend had gone home in a wooden box.

“Colonel?”

Keller’s voice startled John out of his reverie. “Sorry. Um…I’m gonna go now. Thanks for the drugs, Doc.”

She smiled and nodded. “Thanks for the pep talk. And remember what I said about coming back if the headache persists.”

“Will do.” John waved at her then made a brisk exit. He made a quick pitstop at his room, grabbing a bottle of water and downing one packet of pills. He let himself drop down onto his bed for a moment, massaging his temples and willing the pills to work fast.

Suprisingly, John felt the pressure lifting, thereby easing the ache in his temples. Or maybe it was nothing more than a simple case of mind over matter. He didn’t care which it was, he was just happy it was going away.

Remembering Keller’s suggestion of a nap, John decided it couldn’t hurt to lie down for a few minutes. But even as he shifted around to lift his legs up on the bed, his radio beeped. Swallowing a sigh, John tapped it and answered, “Sheppard here.”

Zelenka’s voice crackled in his ear. “Colonel…we have issue in Lab 4.”

“What kind of issue?” John countered, rising from the bed and heading for the door.

“Bad kind of issue,” Zelenka squeaked, sounding breathless.

John got a bad feeling as he picked up speed, jumping into the nearest transporter. “Define bad,” he ordered, his tone sharp as his insides twisted.

There was the sound of voices in the background, someone shouting, then Zelenka was back. “There might be a slight explosion,” he blurted out. “Small one.”

“An explosion?” John couldn’t believe what he was hearing and - hello - his headache was back full force. “What the hell is going on, Zelenka?” Stepping out of the transporter, John started running. But even as he rounded the corner, he heard a boom. “Zelenka?” He ran faster, reaching the lab as the door opened and smoke curled outward. A man in blue stumbled out. One of Rodney’s scientists. John blanked on the name as he grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him away to the other side of the corridor.

“You okay?” he queried, easing the man to the floor.

The scientist nodded, coughing too hard to speak.

John tapped his ear piece, calling for a med team, taking time only to explain that there was an explosion in lab 4. He then heard Rodney’s voice in his ear.

“Zelenka blew up lab four?” Rodney sounded furious. “I told him not to touch anything!”

“Bitch at him later,” John snapped. “I need the med team now. I’m going in for Zelenka.” Tapping off, John knelt beside the scientist. “How many others are in there?”

The man sucked in a breath, holding in a cough long enough to reply. “Just…Zelenka.”

John nodded, clapping the guy on the shoulder. “Stay here. Help is on the way.” With that he stood up, sucked in a lungful of air, then ran into the room.

It was hard to see through the haze of smoke which was curling upward in thick coils from what looked like some lumpy device on the floor. John lifted one arm, tucking his nose in the crook of his elbow, and peered about the room, searching for any sign of Doc Z.

A moment later his eyes started watering and John realized he was pretty much flying blind, so to speak. “Radek!” he shouted, regretting it the moment he had to suck in air and smoke was pulled into his lungs. John coughed, fought for a breath to hold, and plunged deeper into the room. His eyes caught a flash of blue and he moved towards it.

Stumbling forward, John nearly tripped over something solid only to realize it was Zelenka. He knelt down, fumbling for a pulse, and letting the soft moan that reached his ears reassure him that the scientist was alive. Not able to spare the breath for talking, John simply grabbed an arm and hauled Zelenka to his feet. When the Czech turned out to be a dead weight, John hauled him into a fireman’s carry.

“Crap,” he muttered to himself, when he realized he couldn’t see the doorway. Going by instinct, John headed towards where he thought the exit was. He hoped like hell he was going the right way because he was staggering more and more with each step and gray dots were starting to dance before his eyes. Whatever caused the smoke, it wasn’t from a regular fire. John, absently, noticed there weren’t any flames.

“Sheppard!”

Relief washed through John as he recognized Ronon’s bellow. He sucked in a breath to shout out a reply, but coughed instead. The gray dots were turning black.

Stumbling toward the sound of Ronon’s voice, John blinked hard, willing the darkness to hold off until he was out of the room. Then suddenly there were hands on him, pulling him along, pulling Zelenka off his shoulder and John sank to his knees. He heard voices babbling all around him even as he closed his eyes and let the black dots eat the gray.

He woke up coughing, face covered by an oxygen mask, Zelenka foremost on his mind. Shoving the mask aside, John peeled his eyes open and saw blurry whiteness. A few blinks and the infirmary walls came into focus. He started to sit up but his chest hurt and hands were there, pushing against his shoulders.

John looked up into Ronon’s face. “Zelenka….” It was all he was able to say before the coughing hit him, sucking air out of his lungs with the force of it. The oxygen mask was pressed back over his face and suddenly Keller was there, checking his vitals before pushing Ronon aside so she could glare at John.

“Dr. Zelenka is fine,” she said firmly. “Now I want you to relax and leave the mask on. You suffered smoke inhalation and I’m keeping you overnight for obervation. Do as I tell you and I’ll be able to release you in the morning..” That said, she turned on her heel and strode off.

Ronon moved back to John’s side. “Better listen to her,” he rumbled. “She’s kinda mean.”

John nodded and let his head lean back against the pillows. His temples throbbed a bit, but not as bad as he would have expected. Mostly his lungs felt a bit like they were burning when he inhaled, and his chest felt tight. But the oxygen did help and he had suffered smoke inhalation before, so he knew he would feel better soon enough. He was just glad Zelenka was okay. Later he’d have to get in touch with Rodney to find out the details of what had happened. For now he was content to doze.

Which he did for four hours, waking up to find Carter sitting in a chair next to his bed, a pair of crutches propped up beside her. John frowned at her as he got his bearings, first off noticing he was on a nasal canula now. Second, he noticed the IV taped to the back of his left hand. He didn’t remember having that before, or maybe he just hadn’t noticed.

“Keller put that in to help keep you hydrated and to give you some pain meds,” Carter spoke up, as she watched John fiddle with the line.

“Ah.” John stopped fiddling and studied his CO. “How are you feeling? I see you’re up and about.”

Carter smiled and nodded. “I feel better. I’m sore, but I’m also on the good stuff.” She revealed the latter in a stage whisper, pretending to shift her gaze in case someone might be lurking to hear her.

It made John grin back at her. He liked the fact that Carter had a sense of humor and wasn’t shy about sharing it. “You ready to go tomorrow?”

“I’m starting to have second thoughts,” Carter confessed. “Are you going to be feeling up to running things tomorrow?”

“I’m fine.” It was a reflex response, but John meant it. When Carter shot him a skeptical look, he hurried to reassure her. “Keller said I’ll be released in the morning and I’m already feeling lots better. What happened was just a typical day in the Pegasus galaxy. And, sadly, if it comes right down to it, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run the place from an infirmary bed.” Not something he was happy to admit too, but a fact was a fact.

Carter looked convinced, and relieved. “Good. I’m glad you’re feeling better, John. That was one hell of a rescue. Zelenka is very grateful.”

John snorted. “Yeah, well I doubt he’ll feel all that grateful once I’m done reading him the riot act.”

“Rodney beat you to it,” Carter replied, chuckling. “Although I don’t think Zelenka was all that impressed. I’m pretty sure he was cursing Rodney in Czech and I’m guessing there were a few threats in there.”

“No doubt.” John was amused, knowing full well how Dr. Z and Rodney behaved. He started to laugh right along with Carter, only to choke into a coughing fit that left his chest aching and his throat feeling raw.

Keller must have been lurking close by, because she was suddenly there, rubbing his back to help ease him through it, then offering water when he could breathe again.

John took a few sips, sighing with relief, then he leaned back against the pillows and croaked, “That sucked.”

“Sounded like it did,” Carter commiserated. She had gotten to her feet and was precariously perched on her crutches, looking like she wanted to help, but totally at a loss as to how.

Keller checked John’s IV then turned to Carter. “It’s dinner time so you need to get back to bed, Colonel.”

Carter nodded. “I’ll talk to you in the morning, John.” She waved then made her way out of his corner, moving slowly and awkwardly.

Keller then turned to John. “Feeling up to some soup and toast?”

“Sure, sounds good,” John replied, even though he didn’t feel hungry. He did take a few more sips of water, which felt good. He thought he might even try to take a cat nap while he waited on dinner, only to hear a famliar heavy footstep and he turned his head to see Ronon striding towards him with Teyla and Rodney close behind.

The Satedan was carrying two trays, while Teyla and Rodney each had one. Setting one tray on the rolling table, Ronon grinned at John. “We brought dinner.”

John could see that, so he nodded. “Thanks.”

“Are you feeling up to company, John,” Teyla queried, as she moved to his side and smiled at him.

“Sure,” John drawled, letting her pat his hand. “But you know I’m fine, right. You don’t have to sit with me.”

Rodney snorted. “Of course we know that. Personally, I’m just hanging out here and waiting for Zelenka to wake up so I can yell at him again.”

John grinned as Ronon rolled the table over his lap and he reached for his spoon. “You’ll have to update me on what happened in the lab. I’m guessing some ancient doohickey gone bad?”

“Something like that,” Rodney allowed, before taking a bite of potatoes. He swallowed quickly and waved his fork as he announced, “I talked to Sam about me running Atlantis.”

“Oh?” John wasn’t really surprised to hear that. He’d figured Rodney would at least ask. To be honest, he had rather hoped Carter would agree to it. But given the conversation he’d just had with her, he knew that was a bust. Still, he let Rodney say his piece while he concentrated on his soup. It was pretty much just broth, but it felt smooth and soothing going down his throat.

Rodney nodded and continued. “She turned me down. Flat. She said you have more experience.”

“Which he does,” Ronon interjected, as he speared a chunk of meat on his fork before tearing off a big bite.

“And how did he get that experience?” Rodney countered, looking aggrieved. Before anyone could respond, he answered his own question. “Because he’s been allowed to run the place. Hell, even Teyla’s had her moment in the sun. It’s not fair.”

Teyla, ever the peace - maker, was quick to intervene. “You helped to run things with Colonel Caldwell, when Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir were…possessed. And you did a wonderful job, Rodney. Do not sell yourself short.”

Rodney was nodding. “That’s right, and I did a great job. See? I should totally be in charge this time.”

“I’m sure Colonel Carter has her reasons for why she has chosen Colonel Sheppard over you,” Teyla countered, trying her best to appease Rodney.

“She does have her reasons,” Carter announced, as she clunked her way towards them. She looked a bit guilty as she faced them all. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.” She glanced at Rodney as she continue. “You’re kinda loud.”

Rodney scowled at her. “I would do a great job running this place and I’m not going to be quiet about it.”

Carter grimaced. “It’s not about that, Rodney. But you have enough responsibility here. When something goes wrong with Atlantis and her systems, I need all of your attention to be focused there. I’m trusting you to keep things running as smooth as always, and to be on top of anything that could go wrong.” Her tone was soft and sincere as she spoke.

John believed she meant what she said, but he had something to add that might cheer Rodney up a bit. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t kind of, co-run the place.”

“That would be fine,” Carter allowed, giving John a small nod of approval. “But with the understanding that John has the final say in things.”

“Fine by me,” Rodney allowed, with a shrug. “If something goes wrong, I can blame him.”

John wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, but he did nothing more than smile his agreement.

Ronon grabbed a chair for Carter and they sat around chatting for the next half hour, until Keller sent Carter to her bed, and chased the others away so John could rest. He was happy to curl up and close his eyes. His chest still felt a bit tight, and he felt bone weary, but he was pretty sure he’d be feeling much better in the morning and he needed to be up early to see Carter off.

As he drifted to sleep John sent up a little prayer, to whatever deity might be listening, for smooth sailing ahead.

THE END…of part one

Fic: Not So Sweet Slumber

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 17:39:17 GMT

TITLE: Not So Sweet Slumber
AUTHOR: Merlin7/clarkangel
DISCLAIMER: Not mine
RATING: G
SPOILERS: Midway stuff
ARCHIVE: Anywhere
SUMMARY: Nothing but a whump Shep tag for Midway

NOT SO SWEET SLUMBER

"You feeling okay?"

The question surprised John and he narrowed his gaze at Ronon, who was watching him intently. "I'm fine. Why?" He countered, as he poked at the eggs on his plate. They had been rescued by the Dadaelus after the Midway station had blown up, and the first thing Rodney and Ronon had wanted to do was eat.

The first thing John actually did was take a shower, which was why he was dressed in a generic cammos that were slightly too big for him. His teammates had still been eating when he arrived in the messhall, but Rodney had excused himself to take his own shower after John had sniffed at him while making faces. It had taken about fifteen minutes for McKay to get the hint.

Ronon had remained with John, finishing off a third stack of pancakes. "Thought you liked eggs," he said, pointing at John's, still full, plate.

"Just not hungry," John replied, pushing the plate in Ronon's direction. The Satedan was alike a walking, talking, Hoover when it came to food. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Food didn't go to waste with the big guy around.

"You look kinda pale," Ronon continued, before digging into the eggs. "McKay said you almost died. Did you get checked out?"

John scowled. "I didn't almost die!" Because, in his book, almost only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades. Suffocation wasn't in the running.

Ronon merely shrugged at him. "Just telling you what McKay said."

"Well, you know better than to listen to Rodney," John chided. He reached for his coffee mug and took a sip, but grimaced as he swallowed because it had cooled off. Pushing back his chair, he stood up and felt himself lurching to the left. Grabbing the edge of the table with both hands kept John on his feet but swaying.

"I think you'd better sit back down," Ronon said, pushing John into the chair.

Which made John wonder when the Satedan had gotten up and moved over to him. He should have noticed that. Flattening his palms on the table, John took a few deep breaths and after a moment the dizziness passed.

Ronon was crouched beside him, looking concerned. "You don't look so good." Succint as always.

"I just stood up too fast," John stated firmly, because no way in hell was he going to the infirmary and Ronon totally had that *look* on his face. The one that let John know he was about to disobey him in some way. Not that he was giving orders or anything, but Ronon could be one stubborn bastard when he wanted to be. Which, when combined with the fact that he had a bad habit of trying to take care of John, in a mothering sort of way, at the most inopportune times. Like now.

"I'll take you to the infirmary," Ronon said, reaching for John's arm and hauling him out of the chair as easily as if John were nothing more than a rag doll.

Digging in his heels didn't work all that well in a literal sense, when he was on a flat-surfaced floor, but John made the attempt anyway. "I'm not going to the infirmary!" he snapped, all the while trying to tug his arm free of Ronon's iron grip.

The Satedan wasn't listening. He just started manhandling John towards the exit. "Might as well give in, Sheppard," he drawled. "I'm going to get you there one way or another. Best way would be on your feet." He left no doubt to what he meant.

Being well versed in Ronon-speak, John stopped struggling. No way in hell was he going to suffer the indignity of being carried to the infirmary like a sack of potatoes. He'd been in that position too many times in the past for his liking. But as he fell into step, arm still trapped in Ronon's fingers, John leaned in to hiss, "We are so having a long talk about insubordination when we get back to Atlantis!"

"Look forward to it," Ronon replied, giving John a cheeky grin.

The continued on to the infirmary in silence. A silence that was broken when the rounded a corner and nearly collided into McKay.

The Physicist glared at them. "Watch where you're going! You almost flattened me?"

Ronon poked McKay in the gut. "You've got enough padding to cushion your landing," he replied.

"Oh, ha-ha. Very funny. Not!" Another glare for Ronon, then Rodney turned his attention to John. "Hey, you don't look so good. Not that you were looking good before because you weren't. But you look worse now." He glared at Ronon again. "What did you do to him?"

"He didn't do anything to me, Rodney!" John exclaimed. "And thanks so much, by the way. Love what you're wearing." He let the sarcasm ooze from his tongue. Rodney did look ridiculous in what appeared to be a too small sweatshirt and too baggy cargo pants.

Cheeks flaming, Rodney defended his attire, gesturing to it with flailing hands. "This is not my fault! The marines wouldn't let me borrow a uniform!"

John wasn't really surprised to hear that. "Whatever." He made another tug at his arm, hoping Ronon was distracted enough by McKay to let him slip away. No such luck.

Ronon clenched his fingers and said to McKay," Sheppard almost passed out so I'm taking him to the infirmary."

"What?" Rodney's indignant expression was replaced by concern. "You passed out?"

"No, I didn't pass out!" John snapped. "I just stood up too fast. It's no big deal."

But Rodney was shaking a finger at him. "I told you to get checked out. You almost died on the station. You had the oxygen sucked out of your brain. You should get lots of scans. There could be permanent damage."

John rolled his eyes, which was not a good idea, it made his head ache more than it already did. "I didn't almost die, Rodney. I might have been mostly dead, but it's not the same thing." John hoped his Princess Bride reference would distract his friend so everyone would get off the topic of taking him to the infirmary.

"You and your stupid movie references!" Rodney spat, looking annoyed now instead of worried. "Forget about oxygen deprivation causing brain damage. Your brain was rotted out during adolescence. There's nothing left to damage!"

"I like that movie," Ronon interjected, before tugging on John's arm again. Then they were moving down the corridor, ever closer to the infirmary, with Rodney trailing behind them, still complaining.

The infirmary doors were open and Dr. Flint was headed their way even as they crossed the threshold. His eyes were locked on John's face and he looked concerned. John was beginning to wonder if maybe he really did look like shit.

Reaching for John's wrist, Dr. Flint asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," John replied, resisting the urge to jerk his wrist away. Between Ronon still clutching his arm and the doctor hovering in front of him, John was feeling the lack of personal boundaries.

"He nearly passed out in the messhall," Ronon offered, helpfully, ignoring John's death glare.

Rodney decided to join the chorus as well. "He nearly died on the Midway station. We had to vent the station and he was trapped on the outside for hours without oxygen!"

John muttered a curse before turning his death glare on Rodney. "It wasn't hours and you know it. It was minutes and I got myself in the space suit. I'm fine!" But his knees decided to pick that moment to make him out a liar, buckling hard and nearly sending him to the floor despite Ronon's grip on him.

The next thing John knew, he was lying on a bed in the corner and Dr. Flint was fussing over him. He felt too lethargic to protest much until an oxygen mask was fitted over his face. John tried to pull it off but Ronon grabbed his wrist.

"It's just a precaution, Colonel," Dr. Flint explained. "Just relax and let me do my thing."

"Fine," John mumbled, his voice sounding hollow beneath the mask. So he lay there and let Flint take his BP and his temp and do a few other things, like check his eyes. The penlight thing sucked, no matter who was doing it to him. It sucked even more with a headache.

Flint studied him with a squint-eyed gaze. "I'll get you something for the pain in a moment. We'll get you in scrubs and settled in then I'll push it through an IV, it'll be more effective in the long run."

John tensed at hearing the words scrubs and IV. He started to sit up, pulling the mask off. "Wait a minute there, Doc. I'm not staying here so I don't need any scrubs. We're being beamed back to Atlantis in the morning."

"I'm well aware of that fact, Colonel." Flint's tone sounded a bit snide as he pushed John back against the pillow. "But until that time you're going to get into scrubs and rest where I can keep an eye on you and run a few tests."

"There's nothing wrong with me!" John protested, staying down only because Ronon had slapped a heavy hand down on his chest. "I don't need any tests. Look, I'm a bit tired and probably need to eat. Other than that I'm fine!"

Ronon kept John down as Flint grabbed the oxygen mask from John's hand and put it back over his face. "You are dehydrated and suffering a headache, which isn't uncommon after the experience you had. It's also not uncommon for symptoms to show up after a lag period. We've caught them and I'll treat them and you'll be back to yourself in a few days. Understand?" His tone went from doctorly compassion to Drill Sgt extreme in the blink of an eye.

John wasn't happy about it, but he knew he wasn't getting out of here any time soon, so he relaxed back down and nodded. "I understand," he replied, trying hard not to pout about it. "But I don't like it!"

"Shut up and let the doctor do his voodoo thing," Rodney countered, as he crowded Ronon over so he could lock eyes with John. "You almost died. You can chill out and nap for a day. What's the big deal?"

"Go away," John said, waving at both Rodney and Ronon. If he had to get into scrubs, he was going to do it without an audience. And, right on cue, Flint appeared with green scrubs in hand.

Ronon clapped John's shoulder. "Be back to check on you."

John glared at him. "Traitor." He wasn't happy when Ronon merely laughed.

Rodney hovered a moment, looking uncomfortable. "I can bring a lap top later and we can play games?"

John knew it was Rodney's way of trying to make ammends. "That sounds good," he replied, a smile almost curving his lips. "See you later." He watched them leave, then Flint was drawing the privacy curtain. Five minutes later John was in scrubs, tucked into bed and attached to an IV. Sometimes his life really sucked.

What sucked more was sleeping the afternoon away, nearly puking up dinner, and being too tired and achy to even consider playing video games with Rodney. By turns John felt anxious, lethargic, hot, cold, achy and miserable. For two hours his head pounded and made him feel nauseous, then he switched over to heavy cramping and wanting to curl up and die.

The only positive thing was that Dr. Flint assured him that his symptoms weren't that surprising and that it should all pass soon. Only soon couldn't come soon enough for John. He was tired and feeling bleary-eyed and miserable when morning finally rolled around. He peeled his eyes open and saw Ronon sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed. He wondered how long the Satedan had been keeping watch, but didn't have the energy to ask.

Ronon had, apparently, picked up the ability to read John's mind. "Been here most of the night." He pointed to the bed next him, which held a Rodney-shaped lump. "McKay too."

"I must have gone deaf last night," John said, wincing. "I didn't hear him snoring." But he could hear him now and it sounded too loud in his skull. LIfting a hand to scrub over his face, he was surprised to find the nasal canula gone. At dinner time Flint had switched John from the mask to the canula, and he had no clue when he'd lost the latter. He was just grateful it was gone. However, the IV was still in place.

Before Ronon could reply, Dr. Flint bustled over and did a quick IV, pulse and eye check. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

John considered carefully before replying. He wanted out of here, like right this minute, so he went with the semi-truth. "Better than I was. A little tired but good to go."

"We've reached the Pegasus galaxy so you'll be beamed over to Atlantis shortly," Dr. Flint replied. "I figured you'd want to change first." He pointed to John's own uniform which had been laundered and pressed and was now lying on a nearby chair.

"That's great, doc. Thanks." John was already pushing the covers back, forgetting about the IV. He held out his hand and was relieved when Flint removed it without comment. Rising to his feet, John leaned against the bed to make sure he was steady enough to walk before attempting it. He felt a bit light-headed, but it quickly passed. Gesturing to McKay, John said to Ronon, "Get him up and ready to go. I'm gonna change in the bathroom.

John didn't wait to see if his order was obeyed. He knew it would be. Once in the bathroom he took care of mother nature before shucking the scrubs and sliding back back into his own gear. He felt better once dressed, taking the time to splash water on his face and use one of the disposable toothbrushes that were packaged in a drawer for just such a purpose. After finger combing his hair, John felt more himself. Still tired, a bit weak, but himself.

Leaving the scrubs on the counter, John made his way back over to his teammates. Rodney was sitting up, his hair flattened on one side and sticking up on the other, complaining about the lack of coffee. "Let's grab a cup before going home," John said, clapping him on the back.

But Flint was a killjoy. "No coffee for you, Colonel. Or anything else with Caffeine, at least for a few days. Some toast or oatmeal would be good for you though."

"I'll eat when we get back to Atlantis," John promised. He nudged Rodney. "You can get your own coffee stash at home. Let's go." He rounded up his team and they headed out. After a short discussion with Caldwell, John stood with Rodney and Ronon and a moment later they were back in Atlantis.

Being beamed always gave John a bit of a headrush, and this time was no different. He felt himself sway and then Ronon was grabbing his arm to steady him. John whispered, "Thanks," then brushed him off, turning as Carter approached them. Out of the corner of his eye he caught something that made him tense up. To his right was Keller, two medteam members and a gurney. "That had better not be for me," John growled.

Keller wasn't the least bit intimidated by either his tone or his glare. "Dr. Flint contacted me and gave me an update on your condition, Colonel. I want to do my own exam and we'll go from there. If you clear then you'll be free to go."

John would have argued with her but Carter spoke up before he could.

"I want you to get a check over, John. I need to know you're okay." Her smile was as genuine as her tone, so how could he argue with that?

"Fine, I'll get the all clear." He turned back to Keller. "But I don't need the gurney." To John's annoyance, his body disagreed with him. When he took a step around Keller to prove his point, his knees buckled and he nearly toppled over. Only Ronon's quick reflexes saved him. "Sonofabitch!" John hissed.

Keller was right beside him. "Up on the gurney now, Colonel. We'll give you a smooth ride."

John didn't budge. "Look...I'm tired and I haven't eaten in over 24 hours. I just moved too fast. I can walk. Really. I can." He knew he was pleading with her to believe him and he didn't care. He would beg if it would get him out of the gurney ride.

But the choice was taken out of his hands when Ronon suddenly bent and scooped John off his feet before smoothly depositing him on the gurney.

"Hey!" John protested the action, only too late. Keller's team was already covering John with a blanket and buckling him in.

"Enjoy the ride, Sheppard," Ronon rumbled at him.

John pinned him with an incinerating glare that should have reduced the Satedan to ashes. However, all Ronon did was chuckle. "I hate you!" John hissed, as Keller's team started rolling him away.

Ronon nodded. "I know." Then he was moving to catch up.

Keller was keeping pace at his side. "If it's any consolation, Colonel, I doubt I'll have to keep you longer than twenty-four hours for observation. Some food and a good night's sleep and I'm sure you'll be yourself again. It's no big deal."

John didn't respond. Instead he heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, listening to Rodney rant and ramble from somewhere behind him, as he was pushed along.

On the bright side - he was home, sweet home.

THE END

Fic: A Good Day

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 02:25:03 GMT

Title: Another Good Day
Author: Merlin7/Clarkangel
Rating: T for language
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Archive: Anywhere
Summary: This is nothing but Shep whump just for the sake of Shep whump. There is no plot. There is no deep meaning. There’s not even any real angst, just a sliver of it maybe. Basically it’s about the team/family thing I love about SGA. And Shep getting WHUMPED, just because I can.

Dedicated to Titan, simply because she’s so very awesome and puts up with me.

A GOOD DAY

John sat on the gurney, resisting the urge to swing his legs back and forth like a bored kid. Although he was feeling a bit bored, as he waited for his turn under the Ancient scanner. Rodney was in there at the moment, having insisted that Dr. Keller take care of him first since he was positive his ankle was broken. John didn’t believe it for a minute, but since he only had his mission report to look forward too, after his check up, he figured he was cool with Rodney going first. Teyla hadn’t gone on the mission, since she was pregnant and due in two months, and Ronon had walked away from the unexpected attack on MXC-655 without a scratch. No surprise there.

The attack, on the other hand, that had been a complete surprise. John had taken his team there, after Zelenka had informed Carter about spiking energy readings that might possibly lead them to a worthwhile discovery. Or not. The energy spikes turned out to be buried electronic explosives. Booby traps.

The terrain of MXC-655 was both rocky and forested, which meant they hadn’t been able to take a Jumper. Which meant hoofing it back to the gate, after they managed to avoid blowing themselves up. They had been about twenty yards from the gate when they were attacked by a group of men that might not have outgunned them, but they sure as hell outnumbered them and they were fierce fighters. John had ordered Rodney to the gate while he and Ronon laid down cover fire and did some hand to hand combat when necessary.

Rodney had stumbled and hurt his ankle, distracting John with his cry of pain so that one of the bad guys got in a good slug to his temple which had taken him down, and had followed through with a kick to his ribs. Not one of John’s better days. But Ronon had stunned the bad guy, had scooped John up onto his feet so they could keep shooting and running, and Rodney had the gate dialed and ready when they reached him.

Which brought John up to his current place in the infirmary, waiting his turn for scanner time. He thought about stretching out and dozing but his ribs protested when he did little more than shift around on the gurney. So he stayed put.

Almost on cue, Dr. Keller appeared with Rodney in tow.

“He okay?” John asked, starting to nod at McKay but changing his mind and pointing instead. Nodding made his head throb.

“He’s fine,” Keller replied, patting Rodney on the shoulder. “He twisted his ankle but there’s no sprain or break so I wrapped it and gave him some Tylenol and if he takes it easy for a few days he’ll be good as new.”

John grinned at Rodney, who was sucking in a breath in preparation of blasting Keller in some regard. It was time to cut him off at the pass. “Nice work back at the gate, Rodney,” John drawled. “You worked through the pain and got the gate dialed in a timely fashion. Saved my ass.”
Rodney exhaled in a huff, glaring at John as if fully aware of the fact he was being patronized. Still, he shrugged it off, flapping a hand in John’s direction. “Hurry up and get your scan thing done. You owe me a rematch, messhall, one hour. Don’t be late.” With that Rodney shuffled an about face and stalked off, not even limping.

“Rematch?” Keller queried, as she gripped John’s left bicep and helped guide him off the gurney.

“Chess,” John replied, only to hiss out a breath as his feet his the ground. The movement jostled his ribs and jarred his head, sending a spike of pain through his temples and making him reel from a sudden bout of dizziness.

“Colonel!” Keller leaned into him, trying to keep him on his feet.

John locked his knees, grabbed behind him for the gurney, and managed to steady himself. “Sorry,” he apologized, relieved when the world stopped tilting. “Stood up too fast.”

Keller eyed him for a long moment then she patted his hand, the one gripping the gurney. “Stay put a second, I’m going to get a wheelchair.”

“I don’t need a wheelchair!” John protested, shifting to follow Keller as she stepped around him. Shifting hurt his ribs and his head swam a bit, and he gripped the gurney hard enough to turn his knuckles white, but he stayed on his feet, thereby proving his point. But given the look on Keller’s face, John knew he was going to lose the fight.

“Stay put,” Keller repeated, then she was gone.

John didn’t get a chance to miss her. She was back in a moment, pushing the dreaded wheelchair. “I swear I can walk to the scanner,” he insisted, even as she positioned the chair next to him and locked the brakes.

Moving to his good side, Keller peeled John’s fingers off the gurney and gently nudged him towards the chair. “Since I have the medical degree, how about I make the wheelchair call, Colonel?” she countered, her tone clearly stating that she was not making a suggestion.

So John let her ease him down into the chair, shifting a bit to keep pressure off his ribs, then she was pushing him to the back of the infirmary where the scanner was waiting. “I can get out of the chair and on the table by myself,” John insisted, when she stopped the chair by the bed and leaned down to help him. “I really did just stand up too fast.”

“You also really did get slugged in the head with a blunt object and kicked in the ribs with a heavy booted foot,” Keller shot back.

“Ronon is so in trouble,” John hissed between gritted teeth as he pulled himself onto the scanner bed.

“He’s just looking out for you, Colonel,” Keller calmly replied. “It’s what team mates do. It’s what you do for your team.”

John couldn’t deny the truth of her words, so he said nothing as he let her ease him down flat. As Keller moved back to set up the scanner, John closed his eyes. With the adrenaline rush long gone, he felt tired and achy and he had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t be meeting Rodney for the rematch.

What felt like a heartbeat later, Keller was by his side, helping him to sit up.

“We’re done?” John asked, feeling a bit groggy as he sat up. That is until his ribs pulled and he had to grit his teeth against the sudden burn of pain scorching his side. Sitting upright wasn’t helping his head all that much either.

“We’re done,” Keller confirmed. She looked a bit grim as she helped him off the table and guided him back to the wheelchair.

John sat down without a fight, because he was wise enough to know Keller would win any and all battles right now. “I’m not leaving, am I?”

“Not tonight,” Keller confirmed. “You have a mild concussion and three cracked ribs. I’m going to bind your ribs and give you something for the pain. You’ll be my guest overnight for observation.”

“Crap!” John hated the infirmary and he knew he had a night of being woken up every hour on the hour in front of him. Then he remembered. “I need to contact Rodney about the chess match.” John looked up at Keller and gave her puppy dog eyes. “Unless we can play here? I’m not tired enough to sleep yet and Chess isn’t exactly a physical game.” Truth be told, he was way too wound up to even considered sleeping, and just lying about would drive him crazy.

Keller was silent as she pushed him over to the bed in the far corner, his usual resting place when in the infirmary. John winced as he noticed scrubs lying on the blanket, waiting for him. Keller parked the chair and moved to stand before him. “I know your team will want to keep you company for a while, so I’ll allow them to bring dinner and you and Mckay can play chess for a little while. But I expect you to stop if it wears you out and to tell me when you’re hurting.”

John could live with that. “Deal, Doc. I promise to be a model patient.”

A decidedly unladylike snort rent the air as Keller shook a finger at him. “Just be honest with me, Colonel. Let me do my job while you’re in here and I’ll be happy. Because we both know you’re not going to be good.”

“Hey!” John protested, but with a grin crooking his mouth. “I think I resemble that remark!” But the fact that she was teasing him a bit made John feel better. He was hurting, but he knew he’d heal up fine and that he could recoup in his room. So Keller playing with him a bit gave him hope that he could charm his way back to his room first thing in the morning.

“You most certainly do resemble it, Colonel,” Keller conceded, taking his arm to help his rise. “Get changed then I’ll wrap your ribs. Need any help?”

John reached for the scrubs, being careful to reach with his good side. “I think I can manage, but I’d really love to shower first?” He launched the puppy dog eyes at her for good measure. “All that running and fighting left me feeling gritty and a bit rank.”

Keller heaved a bit of a melodramatic sigh. “Fine, you can take a quick shower. I know you military types are used to the quick part.” She tapped her watch. “You have five minutes, starting now, before I come barging in to check on you.”

“Make it ten?” John was sore enough to know he wouldn’t quite make getting washed up and dressed before his time was up. And the thought of Keller barging in on him freaked John out more than a little bit.

“Nine minutes and thirty seconds,” Keller counted.

As John had no doubt but that she would follow through on her threat, he made a beeline for the bathroom. Which, given how slow he was forced to move thanks to his headache and sore ribs, left him with about seven minutes to take care of business. The two minutes it took to relieve his bladder, get dressed and in the shower, left John feeling a bit shaky. He didn’t let that deter him, however, as he scrubbed shampoo through his hair, used the lather along with a few swipes of soap to wash up, then rinsed from head to toe and stepped out.

Not wanting to jinx himself, he ignored his watch and concentrated on getting dressed. Generic boxers were mixed in with the scrubs, which meant he’d been a visitor of the infirmary enough times for Keller to get to know his quirks and quibbles. All of which might have bothered John a lot more than it currently did, if he hadn’t felt like shit warmed over and shit on again.

The ache in his head had turned into a steady, pounding, throb of agony, which sent off a chain reaction. Every move he made he made while getting dressed aggravated his ribs to the point where he couldn’t take a deep breath. The combination made his insides coil with nausea, which he couldn’t even breathe through because it hurt too damn much to draw breath.

In the end the nausea won and John ran out of time. When Keller came barrelling through the door, John was on his knees and emptying his stomach into the toilet.

He didn’t argue when Keller moved to support him, or when a nurse appeared and helped the good Doc to guide John over to his bed. Once he was settled against the pillows, it was a relief to let the nurse smooth cool, damp cloth over his face while Keller hooked him up to an IV.

“I’m going to give you something for the pain and once it take effect we’ll bind your ribs,” Keller was saying, as she fussed over him.

John waggled the fingers of his IV-free hand to let her know he’d heard her. All he cared about right now was trying to breathe without feeling like he was going to suffocate or puke again.

Whatever Keller gave him in the IV worked pretty fast, because it felt like only a heartbeat later when coolness seeped into his veins, gently washing away the worst of the pain and, with it, the nausea.

“Better..” John muttered, without being asked.

“Good.” Keller made enough noise as she moved around his bed for John to keep track of her even with his eyes closed. She clicked up the side rails before speaking again. “I have a feeling your concussion is more serious than I thought, Colonel,” she stated.

John wasn’t going to argue with her. All he wanted to do was sleep right now. “Got a harrrd head,” he slurred, as the pain meds really kicked in.

Keller chuckled, keeping her voice low, no doubt in deference to his head. “Be that as it may, I’m going to run a few more tests and draw some blood. Cover all the bases, as it were.”

“Just like Carsshon,” John whispered, feeling a bit like giggling as he heard how distorted his words sounded in his head.

“I intend to do my best to live up to his standard,” Keller vowed. She then shushed him when he would have replied. “Rest, Colonel, while you can. I have a feeling you’re going to have a rocky road ahead of you.”

John let his body melt into the mattress, more than willing to slip into soothing darkness. But he felt the need for the last word. “S-story…of…my life,” he breathed.

Then he drifted away.

OoO

It was the night from hell for John, at least for the first half. He managed to sleep for two hours before Keller woke him up to flash her penlight in his eyes and ask a few questions. He then dozed for about another hour before his stomach decided it needed to expel the few sips of water he’d had at the last wake up.

That moment in his life had truly sucked. Once he was done trying to upchuck his insides, he was up for the night. All the heaving and gagging made his ribs burn with pain, his head felt like someone was pounding nails into his skull and his stomach was coiled into knots so tight, John was pretty sure he wasn’t going to eat again. Ever.

The only time he could remember spending a more miserable night was when he’d been changing back from bug to human. Not a night John wanted to think about.

Keller came gliding over to his bedside, as John shifted and bit back a moan. “Time for another dose of pain meds, and I have a little something to help the nausea.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason, Doc,” John teased her. He watched her empty one syringe after another into his IV port, and he felt relief loosen tense muscle as the wash of coolness spread through his veins, easing the pain to a more bearable level. Shifting to try and find a more comfortable position still hurt like a bitch though.

“Breathe through it, Colonel,” Keller advised, as she rubbed his shoulder.

John appreciated her bedside manner, and might have told her so if he wasn’t gritting his teeth so hard against another wave of burning pain. But it finally eased as he resigned himself to lying on his back. “That sucked,” he muttered.

Keller nodded. “I bet it did.” She smoothed his blankets and refilled his water cup. “Can I get you anything?”

“Aren’t you off duty yet?” John countered. “It’s got to be about 2 am, right?” He wished they hadn’t stripped him of his watch. He hated not knowing what time it was.

“Something like that,” Keller allowed. “I’ve been dozing. I just want to keep an eye on you.”

John grimaced. “I don’t do tricks,” he drawled.

Keller actually chuckled at that “You do one hell of a vanishing act, from what I’ve heard.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” John advised her. His eyelids felt heavy and he hoped against hope that he would fall asleep and drift through the worst of the pain and suffering he knew awaited him. He was almost at the drift off point when a thought occurred to him. “I’m still getting released tomorrow, right?”

“We’ll see what the morning brings, Colonel,” Keller replied, somewhat evasively. “Just sleep now.” She turned off the small over head light then silently drifted away.

As good an idea as sleep sounded, and despite the meds, John found himself unable to drift into a restful slumber. Dreams invaded the darkness of his mind, shifting him through horror-movie moments from his very real past.

About the time his dreams hit the replay button of when he’d been - repeatedly - fed on by by Kolya’s pet Wraith, John jolted awake. He found himself swallowing hard to force back the bile that crawled its up his throat. The memory of that particular horror was too fresh and too raw. To the point where he had to yank down his scrub top and stare at his smooth chest, to convince himself it was only a dream.

He was trembling, staring at his hands as he laced his fingers together in an attempt to stop shaking. It didn’t work. The tension he was feeling made the pain in his temples spike, which added to his nausea. It was a viscious circle and John wasn’t sure how to break it.

“Dammit!” He muttered to himself as he drew back the covers and slid his legs over the side of the bed. He needed to be in motion, to walk off the shakes. He’d run if he could but he knew he wasn’t in any condition to push himself that hard. Not without disastrous results, and he wanted out of here asap.

With that end result in mind, John stood up, cradling his bound ribs, and pressed a hand to the bed to steady himself until a wave of dizziness passed. The floor was cool against his bare feet, but doable, even though it made him shake a little harder. At least it was for a different reason.

Once he was able to stand without support, John grabbed his IV bag off the hook and headed for the back of the infirmary. He knew he ran the risk of getting caught out of bed, so he might as well have a good excuse. A trip to the bathroom was both in order, and would cover his ass.

He was still shaking when he got there, but it felt good to be moving. Managing the IV proved tricky, so John just disconnected himself, not really caring that Keller was going to yell at him. He wasn’t sick so he really didn’t need it. Truthfully he was feeling sluggish from the pain meds, and whatever else she’d been giving him, so getting that stuff out of his system was for the best anyway.

Now free from the tubing, John answered the call of Mother nature, washed his hands, splashed cold water on his face while wincing through the movement, then turned and headed back out.

To find Keller waiting for him.
John grimaced. “Uh…hi. Had to use the bathroom. I’m good, by the way. You?” He realized he was babbling a bit, but he figured a preemptive strike in his own defense was probably the way to go.

Apparently it wasn’t, since Keller was still glaring at him.

“I’m pretty sure you know how to use the call button, Colonel,” she replied, her tone more than a little frosty.

“I didn’t need any help,” he protested. “I feel better now. I’m good to go. Seriously. And since I’m already up, you could just release me back to my room. I’ll rest better there anyhow.”

Keller eyed him, her skepticism written all over her face. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. “Funny, but you look pale and shaky and like you need to be in bed and under observation to me.”

Heaving a sigh, John locked eyes with the Doc. He was going to be very honest with her. “Look, you said I have a concussion and I know my ribs are battered. I’m not an idiot. I know I need to take it easy, and I will. I want back through the gate, Doc. So, I promise if you let me go back to my room, I’ll take it easy and let myself heal. Despite what you might have heard, I do know my limitations.” He was watching her carefully as he spoke, trying to gauge her reactions. Only she wasn’t giving anything away.

After a long moment of silence between them, Keller nodded. Curtly. “I’ll release you to your room, but only if you agree to daily check ins. And you call me if anything feels wrong or you get worse.”

“Deal.” John was quick to agree and he intended to bide by her rules. Mostly. He wouldn’t mess with his health, because he needed to be one hundred percent to do his job. But he knew his body better than Keller did. He knew how hard he could push and he knew when he needed to back off and chill. Offering a hopeful smile he asked, “So I can go now?”

“You can go.” Keller didn’t sound happy about it, but she wasn’t backing out of the deal. “I’ll get your boots. The floors are cold.” She started to go but turned back to waggle a finger at him. “No playing hero with your health, Colonel. You need to take it easy and to keep your check ins. I want you to get some sleep and make sure you eat and I expect you back here before suppertime.”

John nodded, regretting the movement as it sent off sparks of pain in his temple. But he plastered on a smile and breathed through the pain without letting on. “Will do, Doc. Thanks.”

Keller made a face. “Just don’t make me regret my decision, Colonel. I will make your life miserable if you do.”

It was a promise that John fully believed she would keep. “I’ll be good,” he assured her. He was relieved when she led him over to the cabinet in her office and a moment later he was stepping into his boots. Despite the throbbing in his temples and the fact that every breath made his ribs ache, John felt relief washing through him. In just a few minutes he would be back in his room and finally able to get some real rest.

But his relief was short lived when he turned around to see Keller waiting for him with the wheel chair.

“It’s the chair or you stay here, Colonel,” Keller said, before John could protest.

“I can walk just fine,” he argued anyway. “I didn’t break my legs.”

Keller merely shrugged. “My way, Colonel, if you want to hit the - figurative - highway.” She nudged the chair towards him. “Sooo…What’s it gonna be?”

John knew when he was beat. But he wasn’t very gracious about giving in. In fact he downright pouted as he lowered himself into the chair. He probably would have whined about it too, but he was wise enough to bite his lip and remain silent as Keller wheeled him through the infirmary doors.

And right over to where Ronon was propped up against the far wall.

“What are you doing here?” John queried, even though he could guess at the answer. No doubt Keller had called for reinforcements the moment she’d discovered his empty bed. Obviously his rep for disappearing from the infirmary had preceded him.

“Wasn’t doing anything, so I figured I’d give you a ride home,” Ronon rumbled, as he pushed off the wall and over to John’s side. He nudged Keller aside and took position behind the chair, grabbing the handles. “Ready to go?”

John caught himself before nodding. “Ready,” he replied, smoothly. He felt Ronon give a push then they were off down the corridor. He had lost track of the time, and just realized he’d left his watch back in the infirmary. Even so, John’s body clock told him it was early morning. The deserted corridors were a bit of a clue as well. “You’re up extra early,” he commented to Ronon, as the Satedan strode down the corridor, long strides eating up distance, so that they reached the transporter in record time.

Ronon shrugged. “Wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“Bad dreams?” John asked, because sometimes they talked about those things. Not in depth conversations, but simple comments with details a given. They were both soldiers,
so they understood bad dreams.
“Just thinking about stuff,” Ronon countered, shifting the wheel chair so John could make an easy exit.

Smiling his gratitude at Ronon for letting him ditch the wheelchair, John stood up slowly and hugged his side as he stepped up into the transporter. He moved into the corner so Ronon could lift the chair in and crowd in behind it. A moment later John touched the panel. “So…what stuff were you thinking about?”

Ronon shrugged. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt back there. I should have been more careful.”

“You did your job back and saved my ass doing it,” John replied. “A bump on the head and sore ribs are a fair trade off.” He broke off to shake a finger at Ronon. “Besides which, I can take care of myself.”

“I know that.” Ronon was nothing if not succinct.

They reached their stop and stepped off, John moving slowly towards the door at the end. He thought it open as he reached it and stepped inside. He glanced at his laptop, but knew Keller would inform Carter that he was off duty, so his report could wait. Still, a part of him was tempted to fire it up and just get it over with.

Ronon was right behind John, pushing the wheel chair out of the way into a corner. “Keller said you’re supposed to rest,” he commented, following John’s gaze.

“Yeah.” John turned away and went to his bed, slowly easing himself down, wincing all the way.

“She gave me these.” Ronon set a bottle of pills on the bedstand. He was watching John closely. “You’re supposed to take two then get some sleep.”

John toed off his boots then sank back against the pillow. He grabbed the end of the blanket and drew it over his legs. He felt too warm to get under the covers. Eyeing the pills he drawled, “I’ll take him later…if I need them.” He didn’t think Ronon would rat him out. The Big guy wasn’t big on pill taking either. One more thing they had in common.

Ronon watched John, arms crossed over his chest, as if waiting on him for something. But after a moment he just nodded and turned to go. “Check on you later,” he called over his shoulder.

John knew he didn’t need to reply, so he simply willed the lights off and closed his eyes.

OoO

He dreamed again. This time about Heightmeyer and Rodney dying. He dreamed about his doppelganger at least once a week. Which was a distinct improvement considering for the first month after it happened, he had dreamed about it every night.

Jolting awake at the moment when Keller pronounced Rodney dead, John sat up, biting back a moan at the pull in his ribs. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, making him pant hard to catch his breath. Which made his ribs burn with pain. Once he got his breathing under control, John reached for the pills on the bedside table and popped three of them, washing them down with a few swigs from a bottle of water.

He was too wired to even try to go back to sleep, so John figured he might as well grab a shower, get dressed and scrounge some food. Getting up hurt and made him curse a bit, especially when he lurched sideways and had to press a hand to the wall to stay upright. When the vertigo passed he crossed the room and rummaged in his sock drawer to find his spare watch. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but it was after noon and he hoped once the pills kicked in he’d feel better. A shower and food had to help. That way when he checked in with Keller before dinner, she’d let him off the hook.

To that end, John pulled out clean clothes and headed for the bathroom. Showering wasn’t much fun, because everything seemed to pull and hurt, but he felt more human once he was done. Getting dressed wasn’t much of a picnic either, but he felt better just being up and dressed. His stomach felt a bit off, but he was pretty sure a sandwich would help.

John glanced in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom, grimacing as how pale he looked. His hair was standing on end, more than usual, but he didn’t care enough to even make the attempt to tame it. Lifting his arms hurt. Washing and drying his hair with a concussion hadn’t been one of his better ideas either. But he was as good to go as he was going to get.

Only by the time he reached his door, he was ready for another nap. Maybe lunch could wait. John had just turned back towards his bed when the doorbell rang. He thought it opened and wasn’t all that surprised to see Teyla standing there, along with Ronon. They both carried trays with sandwiches and milk.

“You are awake, John,” Teyla said, smiling warmly. “I was hoping we would not have to wake you.”

“Nope, I’m up.” He stared at the food. “Uh…I take it you brought lunch?”

Teyla nodded. “Rodney suggested it after Dr. Keller told us that you were resting in your room.”

John was surprised to hear that. “Soooo, where is Rodney? He doesn’t usually pass up lunch.”
“I’m here!” Rodney sounded out of breath as he came rushing down the corridor. He skidded to a halt next to Teyla, reaching out to snatch a cookie off the tray. He took a big bite and chewed as he studied John. “You look like shit. Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary? And, for the record, I’m not letting you off the hook with the chess match.” He sprayed cookie crumbs as he spoke.

“I’m ready when you are,” John drawled. “How about after we eat?”

Rodney nodded. “Fine by me.” He stepped forward, nudging John out of the way as he entered the room.

John stepped back, realizing he was being a bad host by making Ronon and Teyla stand there with loaded trays. “Sorry, come in.” As Teyla entered, John tried to take the tray.

Teyla, gracefully, sidestepped him. “Just sit, John. I have it.” She moved to the table in the corner, followed by Ronon.

“Thanks for this guys,” John said, as he watched the simple feast spread out. Then he was settled into a chair by Teyla and a sandwich, milk and cookies placed before him. But John didn’t start eating until the others joined him. He didn’t eat much as he listened to Rodney complain about some new engineer, but the company was nice. Sitting up and trying to eat with sore ribs and an aching head wasn’t much fun though.

Teyla, being Teyla, was the first to notice his discomfort and call him on it. “Perhaps you should lie down, John,” she suggested. Although she wasn’t actually giving him an option. Before John knew it she had him out of his chair and lying down against a mound of pillows.

“Did you take your pills?” Teyla gestured to the bottle on the bed table.

“I did,” John confirmed. He watched as she fussed with his blankets, draping two over him after tugging off his boots. It made him a bit uncomfortable, even though this wasn’t the first time she’d done that for him. Teyla had a great bedside manner and she was more than happy to take care of any one of them when needed. John was a bit disgruntled that he needed it now, but he didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t Teyla’s fault he’d gotten the crap beat out of him. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes shit just happened, and sometimes John wondered if he didn’t have a damn target painted on his forehead.

“Can I get you anything?” Teyla was asking.

John had to stifle a yawn before he could reply and he wondered just what pills Keller had given him, because he was suddenly feeling very sleepy. “No, I’m good. Sorry I’m such lousy company.”

Teyla smiled and reached out to pat his arm. “It is fine. We will come back later and check on you.”

“You don’t have too.” But John knew they would.

Ronon was up and grabbing the trays. He stopped by John’s bed. “I’ll be back to take you to your check in. Sleep well.” Then he was gone.

Teyla followed him out, both of them disappearing before John could reply. They were sneaky like that.

Which left Rodney, who was eating another cookie. He didn’t move from the table other than to reach over for John’s lap top. He opened it up and started typing. Totally ignoring John.

After a few moments of fighting off sleep, John asked, “Rodney, why are you still here?” Because he really wanted to go back to sleep now. When he had his check in with Keller later, he was totally going to ask her what she had slipped him. Whatever it was, it was good stuff. The throb in his head and the ache in his ribs had eased and he felt warm and lethargic and ready to drift away.

“I’m working,” Rodney said around a mouthful of cookie. “Be quiet and go to sleep.”

“Don’t you have a lab for that?” John heard how slurred his voice was, but he didn’t care.

Rodney snorted. “All I need is a lap top. I’m sticking around for our chess match.”

John thought he might have giggled, because he was feeling a bit of a buzz at the moment. He shifted onto his good side and mumbled,”Thanks…for sticking around.” He didn’t need a baby sitter, but the company was nice.

“Go to sleep,” Rodney repeated.

John smiled and did as he was told. And this time he didn’t dream.

OoO

Three days later he was cleared for light duty. His team were still hovering around him, but not quite as obviously as before. Still, they were waiting for him in the messhall and were happy to hear the good news.

“We could do some stretching exercises later,” Teyla offered. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“Sounds good,” John replied, because he knew it would help keep him limber and less sore overall. Because he had every intention of being gate ready in one week, not the two Keller had projected.
“Should I wake you for a run in the morning?” Ronon interjected.

“Make it a jog and you’re on,” John replied, as he split open his blue berry muffin.

Rodney was working his way through a second muffin, but he looked up from his laptop long enough to ask, “Rematch in one hour?”

John had beaten Rodney three times in the past three days, so he knew his friend was itching for another shot at him. He was happy to oblige. “Make it two hours on the balcony. I have a staff meeting with Carter in twenty minutes.”

“Have fun with that,” Rodney replied, smirking.

“I believe you have a staff meeting tomorrow,” John countered, with a smirk of his own.

Teyla rolled her eyes and reached for her juice, but she was smiling.

John caught her eye and smiled back. “I’m gonna go grab another cup of coffee and catch some air,” he said, rising to his feet. He grunted as his ribs pulled a bit, but waved off the concern of his friends. “I’m fine, I just moved too fast.” He was careful as he grabbed his tray and deposited it in the bin before grabbing a mug of coffee on his way out.

He sipped as he strolled to the balcony and discovered it was already occupied. “Colonel,” John offered in greeting.

Carter smiled and raised her own mug of coffee in salute. “Nice day today, Colonel.”

“So far so good,” he agreed, as he joined her at the railing.

“How did the check up go?” Carter turned to study him.

John grinned. “I’m sure you got the update from Keller, but I’m fine.”

Carter seemed satisfied by what she saw. “Good. Any plans for today?”

“Nothing much beyond whupping Rodney at chess again after our meeting.” John was looking forward to getting Rodney riled up again. Truthfully, they both enjoyed the challenge, at least he knew he did.

“I never pegged you for a chess player,” Carter mused. “Maybe we could play some time.”

John eyed her carefully, wondering if she was setting him up somehow, but she looked sincere. “We could probably do that.”

Carter eyed her watch. “Almost time for the meeting. I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your coffee. See you in a few.”

“See ya,” John replied, his eyes on the water instead of her exit. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh air. He was tired, having suffered another night of nightmares, but it was a good tired. The kind of tired that reminded him he was still alive and that was a good thing.

Swallowing the last of his coffee, John gave himself another moment to enjoy the quiet, then he slipped inside and headed for the conference room.

He had the feeling it was going to be a good day.

THE END

Fic: Not on the Outside, Looking In

Sat, 02 Feb 2008 14:21:51 GMT

Title: Not on the Outside, Looking In
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Disclaimer: Don't own anything SGA related
Rating: G
Archive: Anywhere
Summary: Tag for OUTCAST

NOT ON THE OUTSIDE, LOOKING IN

To John’s surprise, when he stepped through the gate, back to Atlantis, Rodney was waiting for him. “Hey,” John said, starting a bit as Ronon swept by and snagged his duffel bag.

“I’ll drop it in your room,” the Satedan called over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs.

“Thanks!” John called after him, then he fell into an awkward silence as he shot a glance at McKay. “So…everything okay here?” he asked when the silence got suddenly oppressive.

Rodney looked surprised by the question. “Everything is fine. Why wouldn’t it be? Atlantis can survive without you for a few days, Colonel. After all, I was here.” Rodney sounded completely offended.

For some reason it made John smile. God he was tired. He scrubbed a hand over his face and said, “I know you took good care of the place, Rodney. I was just kinda wondering if I missed anything.”

“Nothing major,” Rodney replied. He was pacing back and forth as he spoke but suddenly he stopped in front of John and blurted out. “So…you okay? I mean….you know? You okay?”

“Sure, I’m fine.” It was an automatic reply. Truth was, John wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Other than tired. And achy. Being hurled into a wall a couple of times does not do a body good. Not at all.

Rodney was eyeing him with what looked like genuine concern. “You don’t look okay,” he stated, bluntly. “You look pale and tired.”

John sighed. He really wanted nothing more than to grab a hot shower and a few hours sleep, but Rodney was like a dog with a bone. “I am tired, Rodney. It was a rough few days. I know you heard about the Replicator incident.”

“Of course I read about it!” Rodney hissed. “And I would have come and helped you and Ronon, but I just got back myself a few hours ago.”

“Appreciate the thought,” John countered smoothly, hoping to appease Rodney enough so he could slip away. He knew that Rodney was just trying to be a good friend, he just wasn’t very good at it. Much the way John wasn’t good at it either. He reached out and patted Rodney on the shoulder. “I’m gonna hit the shower and chill out for a bit. Catch you later.”

Rodney nodded. “Sure. Later. Dinner maybe?”

John nodded, hissing a bit at the sudden flare of pain in his neck that traveled both up and down. The headache he’d had since he’d found out about his Father, went up about six notches and a band of pain seared across his shoulders and down his back, settling into his ribcage. He felt like crap.

“Sheppard!” Rodney was suddenly in his face. “What’s wrong? Should I call Keller? You aren’t going to puke, are you?” He stumbled back a step.

“I’m fine,” John gritted out, although for a moment he wondered about the puking part. He felt a head rush and his stomach started coiling into knots, like a one-two punch meant to TKO him.

“I’m calling Keller!” Rodney’s hand went to his ear.

“Don’t!” John grabbed his arm. “I’m fine, Rodney. I just need a minute.”

Rodney studied him for a long moment and looked like he was going to relent.

So John took the opportunity to head down the steps. Only to stumble on the last one and almost hit the floor.

Rodney caught him just in time. “That’s it! I’m calling Keller.”

“Please don’t,” John begged, because an infirmary stay would just be the topper on what had been one of the worst weeks of his life. Talking to his brother before leaving had put a few things into perspective for John, but it hadn’t made his father’s death any easier to accept. Especially after reading the letter his father had left for him. A letter that was crumpled in his pocket.

“You really don’t look good,” Rodney insisted. He was gripping John’s arm hard enough to bruise and the expression on his face was one of worry and fear.

John peeled Rodney’s fingers off and forced a smile. “I’m just tired, Rodney. A hot shower and a long nap and I’ll be good as new.”

“You need some food in you.”

Those words of wisdom came from Ronon, who came striding forward to stand at John’s other side. He looked ready to make a grab for him.

“You didn’t eat while you were gone?” Rodney looked appalled.

“I ate,” John countered, casting a glare at Ronon. The Satedan was not helping matters. “I thought you were dropping off my stuff?” A change of subject seemed appropriate.

Ronon shrugged. “I did, but I wanted to check on you.”

Now John was getting mad. “I don’t need checking up on! I’m not a kid!”

“How could you not eat?” Rodney was still stuck back on that issue. Dog with a bone indeed.

“I ate!” John snapped, which made the pain in his temples spike. The tension he felt was making his body tighten up and ache more. Not a good combination. A handful of Tylenol was in order before hitting the shower.

Ronon snorted. “Didn’t eat enough to keep a snorgat alive.”

Rodney was gaping at Ronon. “What the hell is a snorgat?”

“What you’d call a bird. Small one.” Ronon was keeping an eye locked on John as he spoke, so he was ready when John suddenly listed to the left. “Gotcha.”

“I’m fine!” John tried to shrug off Ronon’s arm but the Satedan’s grip was like steel. “I just need a shower and some sleep. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ronon stated. He started to haul John along, not in the direction of his room.

John dug in his heels and managed to stop. “Wrong way, big guy.” He had accepted the fact he was going to have an escort, but they’d get to his room faster if they went the right way.

Rodney was on John’s other side, hovering, and he seemed to have learned how to read Ronon’s mind while they were gone. “You’re going to the infirmary first,” he declared, but glancing over at the Satedan, as if for confirmation. Rodney was smart enough to know he couldn’t get John there on his own.

“I’m not going to the infirmary!” John snarled, twisting in a move Teyla had taught him, so that he could free his arm from Ronon’s grasp. Which worked, only he put a bit too much force behind it which meant his body screamed in protest as pain stabbed through his ribs and into his head. Nausea made itself known as well as John closed his eyes and fought to breathe through the pain.

It didn’t work. There was a rush of darkness and John felt himself falling. Oblivion claimed him before he hit the floor.

OoO

The moment consciousness returned, John knew where he was. The infirmary. Knew it from the scent and sounds surrounding him.

“Colonel?”

He peeled his eyes open to see Keller’s concerned face. “Doc…” John rasped, his throat feeling dry.

She offered him a glass with a straw and he took a few pulls of cool water. “Better?”

“Better.” He meant it. His body felt achy, his temples still throbbed a bit, but it was all low level and doable. John scrubbed a hand over his face and made a guess at how long he’d been out, based on the stubble. “Over six hours?”

“Almost eight,” Keller replied. “How are you feeling?”

John sighed. “Like I could sleep for a week. In my room.” He felt the need to get the last part in.

Keller chuckled. “You can go back to your room tomorrow, Colonel. I’d like to keep an eye on you tonight and make sure you eat.”

“Right.” John didn’t have the energy to argue with her, and he appreciated that she was simply stating the facts, which he already knew, and not harping on him. He suddenly noticed the privacy curtain, and the fact that no one from his team was there. Usually, when he woke up in the infirmary, someone was waiting with him.

“I kicked them out,” Keller said, as if reading his thoughts. “I figured you could use a bit of down time.”

“Thanks.” John meant it. He was rather glad to have a moment to himself. Realizing he was in scrubs, he had a moment of panic. “My pants!”

Keller was still a step ahead of him. She moved to the bed table, opened the drawer and pulled out the crumpled letter. “I sent your clothes to the laundry, but I thought you might want this.”

John accepted the letter. “Thanks.” He shifted, trying to get comfortable, then realized mother nature was calling. “Um…I need to use the…ya know.”

“Right.” Keller looked almost as embarrassed as John felt. “Um…need some help getting there?”

“I’m good.” John pushed the covers back and stood up. He felt a bit shaky, but the pain didn’t spike anywhere and after a moment the slight headrush passed. “Got it. Be right back.”

Keller touched his arm before he took one step. “Don’t be long. I’m going to send for a tray and I want you to eat then take a nap.”

John nodded. “I can do that.”

“And for the record, you’re off duty at least for a week.”

“What?” That caught John by surprise. “

Keller shook a finger at him. “You bruised your ribs, you have bruising on your neck that’s going to take a while to fade, and you’re exhausted. You need to take some time for yourself, Colonel. That’s an order, and one you know I can enforce.”

John did know and he had learned that Keller was as stubborn as Carson and harder to charm. “Fine. But just a week, right?”

“That’s up to you and how you do at your check up at that time,” Keller replied. Giving him a nudge, she turned away. “How does soup and a turkey sandwich sound?” she called over her shoulder.

“Sounds good!” John called back, although he had little interest in food. He shuffled off to the bathroom, took care of business, washed his hands then sat down on the closed toilet lid. He had tucked the letter into the waist band of his pants, but now he pulled it out and smoothed it open.

It was short and to the point, the way John remembered his Father always being.

Dear John,

It’s been so long since I’ve tried to talk to you that I’m not sure what to say. Other than I’m sorry. I wanted you to be a carbon copy of myself, and that isn’t who you are. Not that I know who you are. My fault. I know I pushed you away and that you stayed away because I never made the effort to pull you back in. Forgive an old man’s stupidity. I’ve always been set in my ways and too stubborn to change.

Just know that I never stopped loving you. I just wish I had figured out a way to tell you that before it was too late.

Love, Dad.

John folded the letter back over, then bowed his head. He closed his eyes against the sudden sting of tears. He hadn’t had time to let his dad’s passing really hit him, but the letter reminded him of how much he’d really lost. Of all he couldn’t ever get back.

“Sheppard!”

Pounding on the door made his head jerk up and he swiped at his eyes with the back of one hand. “What?” he called out, having recognized Rodney’s voice.

“Get out here, already! We brought breakfast!” Rodney sounded excited. John chuckled to himself. There was food involved, which always made McKay happy.

“Better hurry, Sheppard!” Ronon’s chimed in. “Teyla’s eating for two and she’s eyeing your tray!”

That made John laugh out loud, especially when he heard Ronon grunt. Teyla would always get even. “Be right out,” he said. He got up and splashed cold water on his face, the letter safely tucked in the waist band of his scrubs. A moment later he was climbing back into bed and Teyla was pushing the rolling table over his lap.

She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Welcome back, John.”

“Good to be back, “ he replied, squeezing firmly before letting go and reaching for a half of his sandwich. Suddenly he was starving.

Rodney was already munching away. “So Ronon tells me you’re rich. You never mentioned being rich.”

John swallowed a bite of sandwich before replying. “I am rich, Rodney,” he allowed. “But not in a way that involves money.” He looked at his team as he spoke and he saw Ronon and Teyla get it right away, but it took Rodney a moment.

“What are you talking about?” Rodney scoffed. “Rich and money go together. Even though you American’s have stupid money.” He grunted when Ronon poked him, then his expression suddenly changed as the light bulb clicked on. “Oh…um….right. Rich in…other…ways.” He locked eyes with John for a moment, before turning his attention back to his own sandwich.

John shifted, feeling the letter crinkle against his skin. He would miss his father, and regret what he had lost. But he had something money could never buy.

Family.

“Ronon said your family has horses,” Teyla interjected his thoughts.

John smiled at her. He’d shown her and Ronon some westerns, so they both knew what horses were. “Yeah. I grew up with horses.”

“Did you ride them?”

“Every day,” John confirmed. “Kinda miss it.” It was a tidbit from his past he had never shared with anyone. But these people were family, and John realized it was time to let them in. So he did, as he let Rodney and Ronon split his dessert, explained to Teyla about growing up in three different houses and fell asleep as Rodney tried to explain the difference between Stanford and Harvard.

He was finally home.

THE END

HARMONY

Sat, 26 Jan 2008 04:06:31 GMT

Well, it was way better than I expected it to be. Right up until the incredibly STUPID last 15 minutes or so.

The start was stupid cheesy, but I was relieved to see a KIRKING reversal between Sheppard and Mckay. About time. Shep is SO NOT KIRK!
The McShep was fun. It's so great to see how far they've come and that they are truly friends. Harmony's crush on Shep was sweet because it was simply that. And Harmony's time with McKay opened his eyes a bit and that was cool. But the moment he tackled her I knew what was going to happen and it was STUPID! Had it ended with her thinking they were both brave and both depicted that way in the portrait. Great. Because Sheppard saved her and Rodney time and again and she wasn't a stupid child to this point. What John did was cool and I was like WOAH And YEAH. Then she did that stupid shit and the stupid portrait and blech. Ruined the ep. I had feared the cheesy beginning would do that but the McShep saved it till the end. Future viewings will end with Shep saving the day with the mini drones and that's that.

However, next week looks AWESOME through and through. Woot!

Fic: Like Broken Glass (tag for Spoils of War)

Sat, 12 Jan 2008 15:27:18 GMT

Title: Like Broken Glass
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Disclaimer: Not mine
Spoilers: Spoils of War
Rating: T
Archive: Anywhere
Summary: Sheppard angst with some whump dumped in (because that's what I do). What happened in the aftermath of Spoils of War.

LIKE BROKEN GLASS

When they returned from the Hive ship, intact, John was relieved. He was all the more relieved when he found Teyla and she told him that Keller had cleared her. She and the baby were fine. It shook him a bit, however, when Teyla informed him that she had come close to losing her child. It made him feel a bit sick inside when she fought tears and it hit home that had he hesitated, just a second, in killing the Wraith Queen, then Teyla's child would be gone and maybe even Teyla with him. And there was another hit to the gut. She was having a boy.

A part of John wished he could turn back time and start over. Teyla now realized she couldn't stay on his team in the same capacity, and that would give John some measure of relief. One less thing to worry about in that regard. But at the same time he would miss her. With Teyla gone his team would be fragmented. Everyone on the team was a piece that fit together to make a whole. Now a piece would be missing and John knew, even after Teyla's baby was born, that the team would still be fragmented. The baby would be her first priority in everyway, which was as it should be, but it meant everything would change. He wasn't sure he was ready to deal with that right now.

So he let it go, compartimentalizing it into the back of his mind. All he wanted to deal with at the moment was a hot shower, a change of clothes and maybe something to eat. Not in that order though. Sliding into first place on his *to do* list, was hit his stash of Tyelenol and swallow a double dose. He had the headache from hell throbbing in his temples.

"Going the wrong way, Sheppard!"

John faltered in his step, then turned to see Ronon fast approaching. "Hey, big guy. And, for the record, my quarters are this way." He pointed in the direction he had been heading.

Ronon grinned. "Yeah, but the infirmary is that way." He pointed back the way he'd just come. "Keller is looking for you."

"What for?" John felt himself tense, which didn't help his headache. Maybe Teyla hadn't told him the truth. Maybe she wasn't okay after all.

"She wants to do a post check on you," Ronon replied.

John frowned. "What for? We get stunned all the time."

Ronon didn't argue that point. "True. But McKay went for a check and he babbled on and on about how he almost got fed on and he made sure to mention how the Wraith Queen got inside your head and how painful it looked."

"Sonofabitch!" John hissed, cursing himself as much as Rodney. His own voice echoed too loudly in his head, making the pain spike. Which made him catch his breath and grab for the wall when the world around him tilted to the left for a moment. He felt strong hands grab him and support him and it took longer than John would have liked to get his feet back under him. "I'm...okay," he whispered after he was sure he could support his own weight.

"I'll walk you to the infirmary," Ronon said, with quiet certainty.

John thought about arguing. Thought about pointing out that he was in charge, but he knew those arguments would fall flat with Ronon. Knew, from past experience, that the way the Satedan ended those arguments was by simply picking John up and carrying him to the infirmary. He did not want a repeat performance of that happening any time soon. So he let Ronon take his arm and lead him to the nearest transporter.

By the time they crossed the threshold into the infirmary, John's head felt like it was splitting open. He was walking without support, but he could feel Ronon hovering at his left shoulder, ready to catch him. He wanted to make this a quick check and himself heading back to his room with a handful of pain pills, but John knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

Keller spotted them and rushed over, even as she pointed Ronon to the bed in the corner. John felt a hand on his arm and he didn't protest being manhandled, since gray spots were now dancing before his eyes and his knees felt like rubber. He was pretty sure he zoned out because after feeling a pin prick in his shoulder, the next thing he knew the pain had eased, he was lying on something soft and relatively comfortable and he felt warm and almost content. Until he opened his eyes and realized he was in the infirmary, dressed in scrubs and attached to an IV.

Moving his head sent little throbs of pain dancing in his temples, but it was doable. His throat fell dry and he really wasn't happy about the IV, but then he spotted Keller coming his way and the moment she reached him he asked, "How long was I out of it?"

"About six hours, Colonel." Keller was checking his vitals. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Truthfully, he felt like crap but she didn't need to know that. She didn't need to know that he felt a bit like he had been broken apart and put back together without all the pieces. So much shit had happened to him and Atlantis in the past few weeks, and John felt like he didn't have time enough to even catch his breath before something else hit them. Hit...him. He was usually pretty good about bouncing back from any type of hit - emotional or physical - but right now he felt worn out. The kind of bone weary exhaustion that was hard to come back from. Only he had no choice but to get right back up and keep going.

Keller was watching him closely, as if she were trying to get inside his head and read his mind. Thank god she couldn't do that. "You're exhausted, Colonel, and I'm betting your head still aches."

He figured he should offer as much truth as possible. "Aches a little, but it's much better. Thanks."

"It's better because I've got you on the good stuff." She held up a hand to hold off whatever he might have said, then continued on. "For the record, you're not leaving here today. Probably not tomorrow either."

"I have work to do!" John protested. "And I'm not sick! I don't have to be here!" He felt tension coiling his muscles and anger burning up from his gut.

But keller was ready for him. "I've spoken to Col. Carter and she's in full agreement with me that you need some down time and a chance to rest and regenerate...so to speak. You've pushed yourself past your limits, Colonel and now you're going to take the time to refuel. And as CMA, we both know my word is law."

John did know, which was the only reason why he clamped his mouth shut and made himself lean back into the pillows. "What do I have to do to get out of here, ASAP?"

"Sleep and eat and relax for the next few days," Keller replied.

"I can do that in my room," John pointed out.

A smile almost cracked Keller's *tough Doc* persona. "But I can't keep an eye on you if you're in your room. Face facts, Colonel. You're only human and you need to rest. Think of this as some down time for your team. They can use the rest too."

John clenched the sheets in his hands, wanting to just fling them off and stalk out of the room, but a part of him knew if he got up he'd simply fall on his face. He could face facts and in doing that he could feel every ache and pain in his body. He knew Keller was right, but he didn't have to like it. "How long am I stuck here?" He needed a number so he could plan his strategy. Whatever she gave him he planned to cut in half.

"I'm thinking at least 5 days," Keller replied, seeing John's stunned reaction. So she went on to explain. "I ran a scan on you and compared it to other times you've had your brain probed by a Wraith Queen. Let's just say I can understand why you came in here with the headache from hell. The only reason you're not in agony right now is because I've got you on the good stuff, like I said. It's going to be a few days before it gets better on it's own."

"Just give me a bottle of Tylenol and I'll be good," John countered, knowing the reaction he would get.

She didn't disappoint him. Shaking her head, Keller pinned him with a glare. "Let's not bullshit each other, Colonel Sheppard. We both know that you're feeling like crap and that you wouldn't get two steps if you got out of this bed right now." She paused, visibly making the attempt to calm down. She mastered herself and sighed softly before she continued. "You're job is to take care of Atlantis. My job is to take care of you. You've done your job, Colonel...now let me do mine."

John rubbed at his forehead, feeling the dull throb escalate to a sharp ache. "My job is 24/7, Doc. You know that."

"I also know that if you don't take the time to get back to one hundred percent, you're going to regret it," she countered firmly.

"I'll give you two days," John shot back, closing his eyes and pressing his head into the pillow, hoping to ease the ache.

Keller moved around to his other side and the next thing John felt was a coolness seeping into his veins. "Rest, Colonel," she said softly. "We'll talk the next time you wake up."

John was glad to feel the ache in his head lifting, but he fought against the heaviness that seeped into his limbs. He didn't want to be out of the loop. He didn't want to fragment his team further.

Suddenly cool fingers smoothed over his forehead and Teyla's soft voice whispered, "Rest now, John. We will be here when you wake up."

He forced his eyes open and wasn't all that surprised to see Teyla smiling at him. Ronon was looming beside, growing fuzzier by the minute, and John could hear familiar clacking sounds, which he recognized as someone typing on a keyboard.

Right on cue Rodney piped up. "Don't waste the good drugs, Sheppard. Go to sleep already. You need to be up in time for supper. We're having Lasagna. The good stuff. I've got dibs on your piece if you sleep through chow."

"...sic R'n on you..." John slurred, feeling the darkness pulling at him. He heard Rodney grunt, felt Ronon's heavy hand on his knee and Teyla's soft "hush.." as he let himself drift into sleep.

His team might be shattered a bit, but he would always see - and they would always be - a reflection of the whole.

THE END

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!

Mon, 24 Dec 2007 19:29:58 GMT

I hope you all have a wonderful, warm and joyous Christmas. ::group HUG::

Fic: Into the Void

Tue, 18 Dec 2007 11:14:05 GMT

Title: Into the Void
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Hero related
Rating: Teen for language
Spoilers: Takes place after the events of Powerless
Summary: Mohinder feels like he's trapped in a void after realizing Sylar is gone and he took Nikki's chance to be cured.

This is my first Heroes fic and it's just a little muse that demanded to be heard.

Into the Void

He felt beyond exhausted, both in body and mind. His head ached and the pain could only partially be blamed on his injured nose. He was bone deep tired and it hit him as he tucked Molly into one of the beds at the Company, that he hadn’t slept in a couple of days.

All of that should have mattered, but it didn’t. The only thing he could focus on was the fact that Sylar was alive. Alive and with his powers back, and Mohinder had no one but himself to blame for that. He had been too focused on Maya coming back to life instead of paying attention to what Sylar was doing. Now Nikki would die and her death would rest squarely on his own shoulders. Mohinder wasn’t sure he could bear the weight of his guilt any longer without crumbling.

Molly was already asleep as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He didn’t want her here at the Company, but right now it was safer than taking her home to his apartment. Mohinder didn’t want to risk Sylar showing up again. He had already failed to protect Molly from the killer, he would not put her at risk again. He had failed in so many ways in the past few days. He had failed so many people.

Slipping out of the room, Mohinder reached for his cell phone and dialed Matt’s number. He sagged against the nearest wall, needing it solidity to hold him upright. When Matt answered the phone, Mohinder blurted out all that had happened, pretty much without stopping for a breath. It felt better to get it all out. He was a little bit surprised that Matt was okay with him keeping Molly at the Company until his roommate informed him he was in Texas at the moment and that Nathan Petrelli was barely clinging to life.

“He’s a strong man,” Mohinder whispered.

“Yeah.” Matt didn’t sound convinced.

Mohinder wasn’t convinced either. He thought about Claire’s blood. A few drops and Mohinder knew Nathan would heal, but he didn’t have the blood on hand to offer, so he said nothing. He didn’t want to think about Claire’s blood. He didn’t want the reminder of how he had killed Bennet. It didn’t matter that he had turned around and saved the man. It didn’t change the fact he had killed him first.

“When will you be home?” Mohinder queried.

There was a long pause before Matt replied. “I’ll let you know. Give Molly a hug for me and tell her I love her.”

Mohinder could do that. “Sure,” he replied, biting his lip against asking Matt to come back now. He wasn’t sure he was capable of taking care of Molly the way she deserved. The way she needed to be cared for.

“I have to go,” Matt said, then he clicked off.

“Shit,” Mohinder hissed, as he closed his phone and let himself slide down the wall. He had never felt more alone than he did in this moment. He missed his family, he missed his home, he missed his simple life in India and he wished, more than anything, that he could click his heels and turn back time and start over again. But life wasn’t a fairy tale. At least his life wasn’t. His life was this cold empty void he was trapped in.
Heaving a sigh, Mohinder flipped open his phone and dialed Nikki’s number. He waited but she didn’t answer so he tried again, expecting the voice mail to pick up, but nothing happened. He took it as a sign that he could wait until tomorrow to call her with the bad news. He’d lost all track of time right now so for all he knew she was sleeping peacefully and he didn’t want to wake her from what he hoped were sweet dreams. Time enough to do that later.

Letting the phone drop to the floor, Mohinder drew his knees up to his chest, wincing as they pressed against his sore ribs, but the pain grounded him. He closed his eyes and let himself drift into the darkness of the void.

Maybe tomorrow would never come.

THE END

Fic: One Day at a Time (Seer tag)

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 20:52:35 GMT

Title: One Day at a Time
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Disclaimer: Don't own Shep and the others.
Rating: PG
SPOILERS: For SEER ep
Archive: Anywhere
Summary: What Vision did the Seer have about John?

ONE DAY AT A TIME

John couldn't sleep.

It drove him nuts when his dreams took over, smothering him in memories and visions and regrets best left behind. For awhile he'd been dreaming about leaving Elizabeth behind with the Replicators, intermixed with dreams of Rodney dying and it being John's fault for touching the damn crystal entity. But tonights dreams were filled with images of Atlantis being destroyed by both the Wraith and the Replicators, without John being able to do a damn thing to stop it. He knew these dreams were curtesy of the vision Davos had given Colonel Carter.

Shoving back the covers, John rolled to his feet. Since he'd only been able to manage one hour of sleep out of four, he figured he might as well give it up for tonight. After a trip to the bathroom he pulled on sweats and a t-shirt, stuffed his feet into sneakers and went for a run.

He pushed himself hard, wanting only to focus on his body and the burn. He pushed so hard that by the time he made it back to his room, two hours later, his legs felt like rubber and he could feel muscle tremors. A long, hot, shower helped a bit, but John was already feeling sore by the time he got dressed and decided to head out for breakfast. If he stood still for too long, he knew that his nightmares would haunt his conscious mind.

Stepping out of his room, he started and was reaching for his gun when he realized Ronon was the hulking shadow off to his right. John relaxed his grip on his gun and nodded at his teammate. "Mornin'"

"Mornin'" Ronon shot back. "Going to breakfast?"

"Yeah." John gestured to the water bottle Ronon had in one hand. "About our run this morning..." he began.

But Ronon cut him off. "I know you went already, so I did a short run and I'll double my workout later. Figure we could eat together like usual."

John was relieved that Ronon was so accepting this morning. Usually he refused to accept any and all excuse John might give for skipping a morning. An actual injury or sickness was doable as an excuse, but nothing else. "I think I overdid it a bit," John confessed, as they headed for the nearest transporter.

"Happens," Ronon rumbled. "Bad dreams?"

"Something like that." John wasn't surprised that Ronon guessed the truth. The big guy was a man of few words, but that didn't mean he didn't pay attention. Besides, if anyone knew about bad dreams, it was the former runner.

They journeyed the rest of the way to the messhall in silence. Which John greatly appreciated, and it was one of the reasons he enjoyed Ronon's company so much. Neither one of them were big on the need to talk about their feelings, or to talk in general.

Since it was still early, there were only about a dozen other people around. They got into line and breezed through it, finding a table in the corner to sit at. The moment they did, Ronon dug into his food. John, on the other hand, looked at his eggs and pushed them away. Suddenly he wasn't the least big hungry. He felt anxious, achy and pain throbbed in his temples in time with his heartbeat. Heaving a quiet sigh he bent his head and rubbed his forehead.

"You look beat," Ronon commented, between mouthfuls of eggs and toast. "You should go back to bed."

"Too much to do today," John replied, which he was actually glad about. Because even just sitting here he was seeing Atlantis being blown to bits in his head. The creepy thing being it hadn't even been his vision, but Carter hadn't been shy with the details. She had given him a full blown, detailed description of the destruction of the city.

Ronon stopped chewing and studied him a moment. "Did you ever talk to the Seer guy? I heard he wanted to chat with you."

John made a face, easing back in his chair and trying to subtly stretch the kinks out of his aching muscles. "What he wanted was to show me a vision of my future," he confessed. "He had Keller and Teyla both hunt me down and I did talk to him, but no way was I letting him touch me."

"Afraid of what you might see?" Ronon sounded amused as he asked.

"Pretty much," John admitted, seeing Ronon's surprise at his honesty. "If you know what the future holds, then you spend all of your time trying to change it without knowing if you're simply making things worse. It's like trying to second guess your second guessing. As it is, Carter is having a hard enough time dealing with what she knows. To the point where it's starting to freak me out as well."

Ronon went back to chewing and there was a long moment of silence before he replied. "That's what's keeping you awake, isn't it? Thinking about the city being destroyed."

John shrugged, not wanting to talk about it in detail and he knew this way Ronon would get the hint. "That and what to do about Todd."

"Todd?" Ronon echoed, looking confused.

"My Wraith buddy." John watched a scowl darken Ronon's face. He knew the Runner hated having the Wraith here, but they had no choice for now. Todd didn't have anywhere else to go since his Hive ship got blown up, and John didn't just want to dump him on some unsuspecting planet. Besides which, he and Rodney were still working on the virus thing. The Replicators needed to be stopped.

John rubbed his head again as the image of Elizabeth filled his mind. Just one more regret he had to live with. Rodney was feeling the guilt as well, about Elizabeth and the humans that the Replicators were now destroying instead of the Wraith. John just knew how to box up his guilt better.

Ronon set down his fork and pinned John with a glare. "You need to kill the wraith!" he snarled.

"He's helping us," John countered, even though a part of him felt the way Ronon did. He owed Todd his life and he had repaid that debt by imprisoning Todd, but he couldn't help his lack of trust. Everytime John had trusted someone, it bit him on the ass. And given the destruction the Wraith caused, John couldn't give his trust this time. He couldn't risk everyone in Atlantis that way. But it ate at him a bit, because if Todd helped Rodney with the virus, then they could take down the Replicators and John wanted that to happen. He needed that to happen. But keeping Todd a prisoner was a hell of a payback. And trying to deal with all the shit that was going on was giving John the motherlode of all headaches.

Rising to his feet, he grabbed his tray and forced a smile. "I think I'll hit Keller up for some Tylenol then have a talk with Todd. See you later, Ronon."

The Runner nodded. "Yeah. Call me when you talk to the Wraith, I'll be the bad cop."

"When aren't you the bad cop?" John muttered to himself, as he dumped his untouched tray then headed out. He made straight for the infirmary, rather hoping he'd run into a nurse instead of Keller, but no such luck.

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" Keller queried, her eyes roving over him from head to toe.

Which made John fidget a bit, because he knew she was seeing to much, like the shadows under his eyes and the fact that he looked like crap overall. Still, he managed to fake a grin and shrug. "Actually, I just popped in for some Tylenol. I'm fighting off a headache and it's starting to win." He'd learned from experience to tell at least the partial truth. Lies about his well being always seemed to get him into trouble.

Keller narrowed her gaze at him then she gestured to a gurney in the corner. "Hop up and let me take a quick look at you, Colonel."

"I just need some Tylenol," John protested, even as Keller grabbed him by the arm and started hauling him over to the corner.

"And I just need to give you a once over," Keller countered, firmly.

John knew he was beat so he pulled himself up and suffered an exam. The penlight made him wince and when Keller stumbled and gripped his thigh for support, John couldn't swallow a hiss of pain. Which, of course, made her suspicious and she eyeballed him with concern.

Staring at his thigh, Keller let her hand hover over it while she asked, "Did you injure yourself?"

"No, I just ran for too long this morning." John hoped the truth would save him. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit sore. No big deal."

"You look tired," she replied, glancing at his face again. "Need some help with that?"

John was tempted, but then he shook his head. He didn't like relying on pills, he much preferred toughing things out. Time would make the dreams fade away. Sure they'd be replaced by new ones, but some nightmares were easier to deal with than others. "I'm good. A couple of Tylenol and I'll be out of your hair."

Keller made a face, looking hesitant. A long moment passed before she nodded. "All right, Colonel. I'll give you the Tylenol, but I want you to come back here after supper tonight."

"What for?" Even as he asked, John was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

"I want to do another quick exam and if I don't see any improvement you're going to be my guest overnight," Keller replied. She had moved to the cabinet against the wall where she pulled out a silver packet. Returning, she handed him the pills.

John took them, resisting the urge to swallow them dry, and tucked them in his pocket. "There's nothing wrong with me!" he ground out, hearing how defensive he sounded.

Not surprisingly, Keller wasn't the least bit phased by his reaction. In truth she was harder to manipulate than Carson had ever been. She stood her ground now with determination glittering in her eyes. "You're exhausted and stressed and a bit dehydrated. An overnight stay will fix all those things in one shot." She raised a hand to still his protest. "We both know you need to be one hundred percent, for Atlantis's sake, Colonel. I can help you with that. At least for the short term."

He appreciated her honesty, even though he railed against the thought of needing her help. She was right about him, but that didn't mean he had to accept it. "Give me a couple of days to straighten up on my own," John countered.

"I don't think so." Keller was steadfast and obviously had no intention of being swayed. "If we catch this now it's just one night, Colonel. If you make things worse you'll be here longer. I know you don't want that."

"No, I don't." John couldn't fault her logic. Sliding off the table, he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "Fine, I'll come back, but I doubt I'll be staying."

Keller's response was to squeeze his shoulder then walk away.

John wasn't sure how to take her reaction, but he didn't stick around. He headed off to meet with Carter. They had alot to discuss, because at some point her vision would come true if they didn't find a way to stop it. And it was logical to believe that the Replicators would be behind the destruction of Atlantis in some way. So stopping them was on the top of the *to do* list.

It was a long, hard day.

Ten hours later, John outright went and hid on the West balcony. He stuffed his radio in his pocket so he could pretend he didn't hear it when Keller radioed him for his check up, which he was totally blowing off. He'd had a crappy day and he really didn't want to end it with an infirmary stay. Which was what would happen if he let her get her hands on him.

He hadn't been able to eat all day, he was hyped up on caffeine and his headache was back with a vengeance. Keller wouldn't have to do anything but take one look at him before she'd be reaching for an IV line. John really didn't want to go there, he just wanted to be alone and figure out some way to shut his brain off. Right this very moment he was so damn tired he wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and go to sleep, only he knew that he was too burned out to actually fall asleep without dreaming, which made trying to sleep an exercise in futility.

So he leaned against the rail, sipping at yet another cup of bad coffee, and willed his tension to fade away. Sadly, it still wasn't working when Carter appeared at his side.

"Keller is looking for you," was what she offered in greeting.

"Yeah...I know." John took another sip of coffee.

Carter studied the night sky for a long time before turning to look at John. "I want you to report to her for an overnight stay, John. Sometimes all the shit in the universe catches up to us and we have to give in to the inevitable."

John finished his coffee before asking, "And what is the inevitable?"

"That we all need help sometimes." Carter's tone was matter of fact as she locked eyes with him. He looked away first. "It's been a hell of a few months here."

"Yeah," John drawled, because there really wasn't much else to say.

Carter looked back at the sky. "Davos had a vision of you and he asked me to relay it to you," she announced. "I've been waiting for the right time to do so."

John was so surprised by her words that it took him a moment to collect himself and manage a lethargic shrug. "You know what...I really don't want to know."

"Fair enough," Carter allowed. "I won't force you to hear it."

"Thanks." John was grateful and not a little bit surprised that she had acceded to his wishes so readily.

Carter nodded. "I am going to tell you what he said about you though, and you can take it as you will."

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. "Lay it on me." The sooner she said it, the sooner he could file it away and forget it.

"He said to tell you to believe in yourself, John." Carter spoke softly and without looking at him. "Because you're the hope for the future of the human race."

"Pressure much?" John shot back, because the words were echoing in his head and making his headache worse.

Carter faced him again, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "We all have a destiny, John. I believe Davos. I believe you will save the human race. But I don't think you have to do it alone. Remember that, okay? You have alot of friends, John. And I bet they're scattered over both galaxies."

He didn't argue that fact, because it wasn't worth the time. Instead he stared down into his empty mug, wondering what the hell Davos meant by trusting himself. To do what? And how the hell was he supposed to save the human race? Hell, he hadn't been able to save Sumner, or Ford or Elizabeth or so many countless others. Dax and Mitch and the list went on and on. If he couldn't save the individuals, how the hell could he save the whole damn human race?

"John?"

He jumped at the sound of his name, opening eyes he hadn't realized he'd shut tight, and staring at Carter's worried face. "What?" he snapped, only to immediately apologize. "Sorry, you startled me."

She nodded. "Do what Davos said, John, and believe in yourself. The rest will work itself out."

"Right," he drawled. "Saving the human race in two galaxies should be a piece of cake." He turned away, meaning to head for the door, but he stumbled and fell to his knees, feeling the world tilt around him. He was so damn tired.

He heard Carter calling for a medteam and he opened his mouth to tell her it wasn't neccessary, when the world faded to black.

OoO

John woke up to an IV, a beeping monitor and Ronon and Rodney arguing over a game of Rummy. Teyla was sitting beside him, reading a book, but she jumped up to offer him a glass of water.

"How are you feeling, John?" she asked softly.

"I'm good," he replied, seeing Ronon and Rodney both look up from their cards to stare at him. He smiled and they nodded before going back to the game and the argument. "How long have I been here?" he asked Teyla. Because he could feel the catheter and that was never a good sign.

Teyla patted his shoulder, apparently understanding exactly what she was asking and why. "A day and a half, but Dr. Keller says that you will be fine. You needed the rest. Go back to sleep, John. We will be here when you wake up."

He nodded, letting his eyes slip closed. Because he suddenly got the message Carter had been trying to send him. That he wasn't alone.

As he drifted back to sleep, the image of Elizabeth's smiling face dancing in his head, John knew that he and his team would find a way to save the human race.

One day at a time.

THE END

Fic: Missing scene from MISSING Shep Whump

Sat, 10 Nov 2007 14:39:01 GMT

I'll be honest, I found MISSING to be a borefest in the extreme. So to make myself happy I wrote this little missing scene. Which is AU because it doesn't fit the canon of the ep, but it so should have been a part of it.

MISSING the MISSING scene

It wasn't until they were back in the jumper, Ronon having herded Teyla and Keller off ahead of him and Rodney and John firing off shots to cover them, that anyone noticed the arrow sticking out of John's shoulder. John included.

Rodney stared at him, aghast, almost accusing as he snapped, "You've been hit!"

"I can see that Rodney," John replied, wincing as he probed the area around the shaft. It was a shorter arrow than the others that had been hurled at them, but no less painful for it.

"Well why didn't you say something?" Rodney was winding up to a full blown panic.

John started to shrug and thought better of it. "We were a bit busy running for our lives," he reminded his team mate.

Keller had been standing there, looking a bit lost for a moment, but then she surged into doctor mode and was pushing John down onto one of the benches, via a hand on his good shoulder. "Sit so I can take a look at you, Colonel." Her tone was pure steel and her eyes were flashing a warning at him not to argue.

"You can look all you want after I fly us back to Atlantis," John countered, making an attempt to get up.

"Sit or I'll strap you down," Ronon rumbled at him.

John looked between him and Keller and realized they were sending each other signals. About him. Great. John knew Ronon liked Keller, so he had no doubt but that he would do anything the Doctor asked of him, even if it meant going against John's orders. "We need to get back to Atlantis," he reminded them.

Rodney snapped his fingers, suddenly looking excited. "I can fly us back!"

"Can you do it in a straight line?" John drawled, only to gasp and clench his teeth when Keller started yanking open his tac vest. "Easy there, Doc. It stings a bit." He wasn't about to admit how much it really hurt. Hard enough to make him grip the edge of the bench with white-knuckled fingers.

"Sorry...I'm sorry." Keller looked more than a bit frazzled. "I need the med kit."

Teyla was right there, handing it over and eyeing John with concern.

He eyed her right back. "You okay?" he asked gently, sensing that she wasn't okay by any means.

"I will be," Teyla vowed, determination glittering in her eyes.

"You look like you got beat up a bit, maybe Doc here should be checking you out," John countered, because Teyla really did look the worse for wear.

But Teyla was both strong and proud and fiercely protective of those she considered family. Of which John was included. "I will be fine," she stated. "You are the one in need of attention."

Keller had finished getting John's vest off and his shirt open and she winced in sympathy as she probed the wound. Then she was pressing a dressing around it and making more faces. "Sorry, I know it hurts, Colonel." Because it wasn't like he could swallow every hiss and moan of pain. "We'll be taking you straight into surgery when we land." She looked at Ronon. "Can you contact Atlantis and tell them to have a med team ready with a gurney and to prepare OR?"

"I can do that," Ronon allowed, moving towards the front where McKay was sitting. He was babbling as he checked the controls and Ronon thumped him on the shoulder. "Just drive the thing, okay?"

"How is Sheppard?" Rodney sounded sincerely worried.

Ronon held up a hand to tap his radio. He gave Carter the message from Keller, then he looked at McKay. "He's been better. Doc will take good care of him though. Just get us home."

Rodney nodded. "I can do that."

OoO

The surgery went without a hitch, although John lost alot of blood and he ended up being out of it for pretty much a day. Add to that a bad reaction to the *knock out juice* as Ronon called it, and he was pretty much feeling like shit when he woke up and was lucid for the first time.

Not surprisingly, Teyla was sitting at his bedside. She noticed him waking and was on her feet, smiling at him even as she called for Keller.

John thought he managed to smile back, then Keller was there and there was fussing, pain from having his dressing checked, a few ice chips to ease the dryness in his mouth, then reassurances that he would be fine after a few days of rest.

"How are you doing?" John asked Teyla, once Keller was finally gone. He hadn't missed the doc's wrapped ankle and foot brace, nor the bruising on Teyla's face.

"I have been better," Teyla allowed. "I must find my people."

John reached out, not liking how his hand trembled, until he found Teyla's hand. He gave it a squeeze and whispered, "We'll help you find them."

Teyla blinked hard, leaning over to rest her forehead against his. "I know," she whispered back. "Thank you." Easing back she smiled again and there was less tension to it this time. "Now rest. Ronon and Rodney will be coming to visit soon and you'll need your strength."

"Right." Knowing she would be there, John let his eyes close as he drifted slowly into darkness.

THE END???

Anyone who would like to take this and go further, feel free. Like Shep getting a fever/infection. Him trying to slip away before he's better. All kinds of good stuff can happen.

Fic: Tabula Rasa (Extended Shep Whump tag version)

Sat, 03 Nov 2007 14:41:29 GMT

Title: Tabula Rasa Tag
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: T
Archive: Anywhere
Summary: The extended Shep-Whump version

TABULA RASA (Extended whump version)

Ronon kept throwing glances over his shoulder, to make sure that Sheppard was keeping up with him. He was, barely. Slowing his stride, Ronon let Sheppard catch up to him, giving the man a careful once over. Sheppard didn't look so good. He was pale and sweating and trembling. "You okay?" Ronon asked, switching the bags with the plants to one had so he could grip Sheppard by the arm when he stumbled.

"Uh...guess so," John replied, looking confused. "Where are we going?"

"To find Teyla and..." Ronon broke off when he realized Sheppard didn't remember who Teyla was. He tightened his grip on Sheppard's arm and guided him along, picking up the pace again. "We're going to get help," Ronon ammended.

John made a face then nodded. "That's...that's a good idea."

Ronon just grunted and moved them along. He could hear Lorne and the other soldiers following in their wake. A few minutes later he was in Rodney's lab, dumping the bags and locking eyes with Teyla. "How's it going?"

Teyla looked relieved to see them. "Rodney did it, we can spread the cure to everyone." She moved closer to them, eyeing Sheppard the way Ronon had done a few minutes earlier. She reached out to Sheppard. "How are you feeling, John?"

"Strange," he whispered. He lifted one hand to his temple, pressing hard. "Hot. It's hot in here."

"You will feel better soon," Teyla promised.

John looked at her, an expression of confusion on his face. Then his knees buckled as he went beyond pale and it was only Ronon's hand on his arm that kept him from hitting the floor hard.

Teyla helped support John as she locked eyes with Ronon. "I will take care of things here, get him to Keller."

"Will do." Ronon knew there was nothing more he could do here, but Sheppard needed him. With gentle ease he lifted his team leader into his arms and carried him out of the room. Behind him he heard the echo of Rodney asking,

"Is that guy going to be okay?"

Ronon strode off too quickly to hear Teyla's reply.

Five minutes later he was laying Sheppard out on an infirmary bed, then searching for Keller. It took Ronon another ten minutes to convince her she could help Sheppard. To remind her that she was a doctor and to use instinct to do her job. But there wasn't much she could do but make Sheppard comfortable while Teyla took care of sending out the cure. So it was Ronon who stripped Sheppard out of his uniform and dressed him in scrubs and got him settled under the covers of the bed in the corner. It was the least he could do for the man who had believed in him and offered him a home and a family. Because Ronon knew that's what he had here on Atlantis. So he sat beside Sheppard and waited for another miracle to happen. Because on Atlantis, it seemed like miracles happened all the time.

OoO

They all gathered in Keller's office, crowding the place as they sprawled whereever they could find room.

Carter looked at Keller. "How is everyone doing?"

"Better. Most people, like myself and you and Rodney and Zelenka and even Lorne are recovering swiftly." Keller looked surprised as she explained, but no more surprised than her audience.

"Why was Sheppard hit so hard?" Rodney asked. "And Katie." He almost stumbled over the botanist's name.

Keller shrugged. "It hits everyone differently. With Katie I'd say it's the fact that she was hit first so she suffered the effects the longest. With Sheppard, I'm guessing his genetic make up. His test results were a bit different." She didn't explain further.

Rodney snorted. "Why am I not surprised? He's part human, part Ancient, part Iratus bug and after having his life put back into him he's probably part Wraith." A glance at Teyla and he mumbled," No offense."

"None taken," Teyla calmly replied, then she turned her attention to Keller. "Will Katie and John be allright?"

"I'm a little concerned about Katie, but I think she's strong and she'll pull through," Keller said firmly, eyeing Rodney as she spoke.

"And Sheppard?" Carter prompted, looking tired, relieved and worried all at the same time.

Keller shrugged again. "He's tough and his vitals are good. Right now it's like he's in a really deep sleep and I can't help but believe that it's good for him. He'll wake up when he's ready."

Rodney jumped up. "I'm going to go sit with Katie." With that he was gone.

Ronon headed for the door as well, Teyla on his heels. As he passed Carter he rumbled, "Gonna sit with Sheppard," then he was gone.

Carter watched them go then she got up and patted Keller on the shoulder. "You did good," she stated warmly, and she meant it.

"Thanks." Keller didn't look convinced, but she headed out as well, no doubt to check on her patients.

Carter stayed put for a moment, giving herself the time to feel everything she was feeling. Letting her exhaustion wash over her but not settle. Then she squared her shoulders and headed out to visit her people. They had passed the crisis, now it was time for the healing to begin.

OoO

John heard voices. They were soft but they still made his head ache a bit and he couldn't quite identify them so he peeled his eyes open and was relieved to see Ronon and Teyla staring at him.

"You are awake, John," Teyla said, looking pleased.

He nodded. "What happened?"

"Teyla got the plant distributed through the ventilation system," Ronon replied.

John was glad to hear that. "So...everyone's okay?"

Teyla sighed and shook her head. "We were not able to save everyone."

John glanced around the area he was in and his eyes narrowed. "Where's Rodney?" he demanded, getting ready to get up and find his friend.

"He's with Katie Brown," Ronon replied, pressing a hand to John's shoulder and keeping him in place. "He's fine."

"How are you feeling, John?" Teyla queried, not even trying to hide the fact that she was trying to distract him.

"Um...good," John replied. He let himself relax against the pillows. "So...how long have I been out of it?"

Teyla and Ronon exchanged glances then Ronon replied, "About a day."

John was surprised to hear that. "A day? What about everyone else? Is everyone down for the count or what?"

"A few of those first affected are still here," Teyla replied. "Most everyone else recovered swiftly. They're just tired."

"You got hit hard," Ronon added, looking amused.

John refused to let himself pout. He just told himself he'd been tired before the whole thing started and was making up for lost sleep. "Well...I'm feeling fine now so where are my clothes?"

Teyla quirked an eyebrow at him. "Dr. Keller locked them up in her office."

"What?" John narrowed his eyes at Teyla, searching deep to see if she was just messing with him. But she looked sincere. So he asked her outright. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I am not." Teyla patted his leg. "She said she does not trust you to try and leave without permission. She has read all of Dr. Beckett's notes concerning your infirmary stays."

John knew he couldn't beat that bad rep, but he felt a twinge at the mention of Carson's name. He missed him. "Fine. So how long am I here for? Can you get Keller for me?"

Ronon stood up. "I'll get her, but she told us you'd be here for at least another twenty-four hours once you woke up." He patted John on the leg as well, hard enough to sting, then was gone.

"I really do feel fine," John said to Teyla, offering up puppy dog eyes. Which he knew from the past didn't work on her, but he was feeling desperate. "You could grab my gym bag for me." He had a full change of clothes in it at all times.

"You need to rest and to obey doctor's orders, John," Teyla chided him gently. "I'm going to check on Rodney and Katie and I will be back soon. Be good." With that direct order, she glided away.

John watched her go and behaved himself for a whole two minutes. At which point he realized he really needed to go to the bathroom. Since no one was around and he didn't even spot a nurse, he slid out of bed, catching himself on the corner when his knees buckled a bit. Once the dizziness passed, John made his way to the bathrooms in the back, shuffling along a bit because he felt surprisingly weak and lightheaded. He told himself it was lack of food and clung to that thought as he reached the bathroom, did his business, washed his hands then staggered back out.

He really didn't want to stay here. There were about a dozen other patients and Keller had her hands full. He would go to his room, grab a shower and rest. No problem. Other than the fact that his legs felt like rubber. But John was determined, and determination had gotten him through alot of rough times. So he made it back to his room, took his shower, managed to get dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt when everything tilted to the left and he felt himself falling. Then there was a white-bright burst of pain, then the lights went out.

OoO

It was a clacking noise that brought John back to awareness. A familiar clacking noise along with a familiar muttering. John peeled his eyes open and wasn't the least bit surprised to see Rodney working on his laptop. A glance around did surprise him though. He was back in the infirmary.

"You're awake." Rodney always accused John of stating the obvious, but he was guilty of it just as much.

"Guess so," John mumbled, his tongue feeling like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He turned his head and there was the ever present water glass. He reached for it but Rodney beat him too it.

Looking peeved, Rodney handed it over. "You're an idiot!" he snapped.

John took a few sips of the cool water then made to set it back down on the table, only to have Rodney snatch it out of his hands and do it for him. "Thanks," John replied, his voice working better now. "How's Katie?" Nothing like diversionary tactics, when faced with a verbal assault from McKay.

"She's fine and your'e still an idiot!" Rodney hissed. "What were you thinking leaving the infirmary?"

"I was thinking I felt fine and Keller had enough on her plate," John replied in his own defense, and he was starting to get pissed.

The sound of footsteps approaching distracted both of their attention from eachother. Carter looked grim as she approached and Keller looked angry.

John tried to sink back into his pillows as both women approached him. He shot a pleaful glance at McKay who merely shook his head and faded into the background as much as he could.

Keller spoke up first, checking his monitors at the same time. "How are you feeling, Colonel?" Her tone was perfectly proffessional but her expression was a bit frosty.

"You tell me, Doc," John replied, feeling too weary to fight. Besides which, now that he was awake he realized his head and side ached. He didn't remember then aching before. Well, his head had ached a little, but not like this.

"You have a mild concussion and bruised ribs, Colonel," Keller announced. "Received when you fell in your quarters. Which wouldn't have happened had you been in this infirmary bed where you belonged." She sounded almost pleased by his injuries, and way too smug.

John wasn't sure how to respond to that so he decided to focus on Carter to gauge her reaction to him. She still looked grim with an underlying dash of amusement. So John sighed, carefully, taking into account his soreness. "I'm sorry, Doc," he replied, and he meant it. "I felt fine when I left and you had a full house. I figured I'd just go rest in my room."

Keller looked like she wanted to yell at him, but instead she rolled her eyes and fussed with his covers. "I appreciate the thought, Colonel. But in the future, let me decide the state of your welfare. As it is, you'll be here for another four to six days."

"What?" John was stunned and angry and confused. "Why so long? I have a hard head and I've bruised my ribs before. No big deal. I don't need to be here for four more days."

"Or six!" Rodney piped up, sounding delighted.

John would have glared at him if he hadn't been blocked by Carter. "I'm fine," he insisted, looking at both women. Both of whom were in charge of his fate. Sometimes his life really sucked.

Carter moved closer, locking eyes with John. "Dr. Keller and I both feel it's best that you remain here until you're one hundred percent, John. And it's not just because of your irresponsibilty in leaving too soon. Your blood work isn't back to normal and you're running a temp. Until both things have cleared up, I think it's best that you remain under Keller's care."

"Oh." John took a moment to assess how he was feeling and he realized he did feel fever achy and a bit chilled. "Why hasn't my blood work cleared up yet?"

"I don't know." Keller didn't look happy about it either. "The bacteria just seems to be taking longer to break down in your system. It's almost gone but I'd rather be overly cautious for now."

John knew it was the right thing to do, but it figured he'd get hit harder than anyone else. Which reminded him. "How's Katie?" he asked, watching as Rodney stepped around Carter and moved to his side again.

"She's fine," Rodney replied, looking happy. "She got released to her room this morning."

"That's great!" John meant it. He was happy for Rodney. But he wasn't so happy when he looked around and realized he was the only one left in the infirmary. It also sucked that he was feeling tired again and he had to stifle a yawn.

Which Keller caught. "Time for you to get some more sleep, Colonel. It's the best thing for you."

He decided to do as she said and maybe if he was on his best behavior she'd let him out earlier. However, he had one quibble. "Can I eat first?"

"I'll get you some soup," Keller replied, looking pleased.

"I'll get it," Carter offered. "Be right back."

John felt a little weirded out by his CO getting him soup, but he let it go in favor of picking at the tape on the back of his hand. And it was freaking him out a bit that he had only just noticed he had an IV. A slap on his fingers made him look up.

"Stop that," Keller ordered, waggling her forefinger at him.

"Sorry." John didn't feel very repentant though. He felt tired and achy and cranky and hungry with a side order of growing nausea. All of the sudden he didn't want the soup. He just wanted everyone to go away and leave him to his misery.

Keller seemed to get the hint. She scanned his vitals. "Temp's up a bit, I'll get you something for that. Just rest, Colonel." With that she was gone.

Which left John with Rodney, and Rodney had settled himself back in his chair and was clacking away at his laptop. John watched him for a moment, feeling his eyes grow heavy. "You don't have to stay," he mumbled.

"I know that!" Rodney snapped, in a rather muffled tone. "Go to sleep."

It was an order John couldn't help but obey. He drifted off into warm darkness, knowing Rodney was watching his back.

OoO

He made it out of the infimary in three days, due to good behavior. But it wasn't a clean escape. Keller had assigned his team to keep watch over him for the next three days, which meant they were taking turns camping out in his room. Or would take turns, once the movie was over. Rodney had found the equivalent of an LCD TV screen and had hooked up a DVD system in connection with his laptop and now they were watching the Pirates of the Carribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Ronon was enthralled, Teyla was entertained, Rodney was chowing on popcorn and John was dozing.

He jolted awake when something brushed over him and he realized it was Teyla covering him with a blanket.

"Sorry," she apologized. "You looked cold. Can I get you anything?"

"No..I'm good," John whispered. He kept his eyes open long enough to see that the movie was at the halfway point, then he let him close as he rode a wave of contentment back into slumber.

Life was good.

THE END

Fic: Where Shadows Linger (Travelers tag fic)

Sat, 27 Oct 2007 17:50:41 GMT

Title: Where Shadows Linger
Author: Merlin7/clarkangel
Rating: T for language
Disclaimer: Don't own them. ::Sobs::
Archive: Anywhere
Summary: John's still feeling the after affects of his time with the Travelers. In more ways than one.

WHERE SHADOWS LINGER

After his time with the Travelers, Keller put John off duty for two days. Which didn't make him happy, but he accepted it in the hope he could convince her to let him back to full duty after one day of being a good boy and resting in his room. Only he didn't rest, he dreamed about getting the life sucked out of him then put back in again. Over and over in an endless loop until he finally gave up, turned on the lights and played video games on his laptop until it was time for his appointment.

"It's early, Colonel," Keller said, stating the obvious as he slid onto the gurney she gestured at.

He would have jumped onto it but he was feeling a bit too sore to do much more than ease on up. Not even a long hot shower had helped the stiffness he was feeling this morning. "Figure I'd stop in before the rush," John drawled, offering his most charming smirk.

Which Keller cocked an eyebrow at before grabbing her stethoscope and reaching for the hem of his shirt. She started to lift it but let go when he hissed in pain. "Colonel? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." John figured blatant lying was his best shot at the moment. He wasn't about to admit that her knuckles had brushed over a surprisingly tender spot of his abdomen. So he tried smiling at her instead of smirking.

"Where does it hurt?" Keller demanded, obviously not believing his lie. She pushed on one shoulder, pressing him back to lay down.

John shrugged her hand off but she was persistant. He scrunched up his face as he made himself lay back slowly. "You just hit a sore spot, Doc," he finally confessed. "Nothing to worry about."

Keller was lifting his shirt again, this time more carefully. She frowned as she studied his stomach and ribs. "The bruising is pretty heavy this morning. I think I'm going to do a scan after all. I shouldn't have let you talk me out of it yesterday."

"I got punched a few times," John countered, making a futile attempt at brushing his shirt back down, but she wouldn't free it from her clutches. "Of course I have brusies, they punched hard. I'm resting, they'll heal. It's nothing that I haven't suffered through before." John was trying his damndest to make her see reason. His reason.

"I'm running the scan." Keller finally released his shirt, but only so she could use her stethoscope. She had John breathe in and out slowly, then she wrapped the stethoscope around her neck and went for her penlight. Once that was done she took his pulse and BP, waving him back when he tried to sit up.

John couldn't help but glare at her a bit. "I really don't need a scan. I'm fine."

Keller glared down at him. "That's my call to make, Colonel. But I can back it up by calling Colonel Carter if you like."

"No...don't do that." John relaxed into the pillow with pissy grace. "How long is this going to take?"

"You'll be here about half an hour," Keller replied. "I want you to stay here until I get the results." She patted his leg. "Take a nap, Colonel. You look like you could use it."

He knew he could but he was feeling defiant so he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling until he was placed under the scan. Then he stared at the ceiling some more, dividing numbers in his head in an attempt to keep the boredom at bay, only to finally succumb to darkness.

"No! Stop you sonofabitch!" John was screaming at the Wraith to stop taking his life only to give it back. To stop playing with him.

"John!"

The sound of his given name snapped John out of the dream. He found himself gasping for breath as he stared at Teyla's concerned face. "Sorry...sorry," he mumbled, wiping a hand over his face and staring at it when it came away wet from the cold sweat that sheened his skin.

Teyla shook her head at him. "Nothing to be sorry for. You were dreaming. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." John sat up slowly, biting back a moan as he swung his legs over the side of the gurney." He felt stiff and sore and achy. Glancing at his watch he was surprised to realize almost three hours had passed since he'd first put himself into Keller's clutches.

As if sensing his thoughts of her, Keller came striding over to them. "How are you feeling, Colonel?" she asked, reaching for his wrist to take his pulse. "A bit rapid and thready."

John tugged free and shrugged. "Dreams will do that to you. I'm fine. Can I go now?"

"You can in a minute." Keller dug into her lab coat pocket and pulled out a small pill bottle and two packets. She held up the packets. "These are ambien to help you sleep. I want you to take one tonight and I will send Ronon to check on you to make sure that you do and I'm pretty sure he'll know if you're lying."

"Right. Take one tonight." John accepted the packets, already plotting ways on how to not take it yet convince Ronon he had. At least figuring out a way would keep his mind off other things. Like getting his life sucked in and out of him repeatedly. John shuddered a bit and tried to shake the thought out of his head.

Keller tapped him on the knee, obviously knowing she had lost his attention. She held up the pill bottle. "These are for pain. Go get something to eat then take one pill as needed for the next three days."

John nodded, taking the bottle and shoving it and the packets in his pants pocket. "So now I can go?"

"You can." Keller watched him slide off the table, but she grabbed his arm when he turned to go. "You have some heavy bruising, Colonel. Nothing serious for now, but if you don't take it easy, it can get worse. I've already contacted Colonel Carter to let her know that you're off duty for the next week and that I'll update your status during your follow up check up."

"A week?" John was stunned and angry and confused. "Look, I've got a few bruises, Doc. Not a big deal!" He would have argued more but Teyla took his arm, drawing his attention.

She smiled at him with sympathy. "Dr. Keller is doing her job, John," she said in a tone that had warmth but a shade of chiding to it. "Do as she says. We can all use the down time."

John opened his mouth to disagree, but it wasn't worth the battle. Truth be told, Keller was probably right to keep him grounded for the time being. He was too sore and right now he was too tired and he was definitely off his game. He wouldn't go back through the gate with his team until he was one hundred percent. "Fine. One week. I'm going to go rest now." He didn't look at Keller as he shrugged off Teyla's hand and walked away.

He knew he was supposed to eat and take the pills, but he wasn't hungry. Instead John wandered off to the jumper bay and he found Zelenka working on one of the Jumpers. "Need some help?" John offered. He wanted the distraction and Zelenka was good about being willing to teach him how to fix things on Atlantis. Some stuff John had simply learned by watching Rodney do his thing, like when he had to fix the chair on the warship before he could take out the Wraith. But Rodney wasn't big on actually showing him how to do things, not the way Zelenka was.

"Help would be appreciated, Colonel," Zelenka replied, moving over to make room for John to sit beside him.

For the next four hours John learned how to do some seat of his pants rewiring, and other things that might come handy if he was on his own again or if Rodney happened to be out of commission. He would have happily stayed there if Zelenka didn't call it quits for dinner. John waved him off before deciding to head out to the nearest balcony. He was tired and aching and he knew he should eat, takes his pills and get some sleep, but he didn't want to sleep. He'd finally gotten over the dreams about his doppleganger self, now he was reliving his captivity with Kolya and being fed on repeatedly.

John reached the balcony and he breathed in the cooling air as he sat down and simply stared out at the water. He knew why he was dreaming. Seeing the Wraith give Lairin her life back had kickstarted the memories, but he hadn't expected them to hit him so hard. Letting himself think about it, he knew why though. Because being fed on had been one thing. Fed on and then suddenly given his life back in spades. But to see it being done to someone was to see what had truly happened to him and it was both fascinating and horrifying and it was fucking him up in the head something fierce.

Being kidnapped, beaten and having his life threatened repeatedly hadn't helped matters either. That too was a reminder of being captured by Kolya, and a reminder of the three other times in his career that he had been a prisoner. The first time he'd been 25 years old, captured in enemy territory during a mission and threatened with being shot in the head for six days in a row until he'd been rescued. He'd been beaten alot worse that time, so he figured he had alot to be grateful for. Only it wasn't helping him feel better.

It also wasn't helping that so many issues were pouring out of him now. Another being his fear at being left behind. For all that he had insisted, time and again, that his people were coming for him. There had been a few moments when John had doubted that they would really come. Not that he would ever mention it to them, or even say it outloud to himself. But that didn't make the doubt any less real. It also didn't make it go away.

Leaning back against the side wall, John stifled a moan. He hadn't brought a jacket and it was getting chilly. His body was aching, his head was pounding. He knew he needed food and sleep and that he should take his pills, but he couldn't make himself move. He felt fragile in this moment, like he just might shatter. More than that he felt alone and he felt afraid. Stupid of him to feel that way, because he knew that he had family on Atlantis. Stupider still to be afraid when he was home again and safe. But there it was.

So he drew his knees up carefully, wrapped his arms around them and cradled his head there, closing his eyes and willing his demons to simply go away. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door whoosh open or realize he wasn't alone until someone touched his arm.

John's head snapped up, illiciting a moan of pain, but that faded as he stared at Teyla. Then his eyes moved to encompass Rodney and Ronon. Before he could say anything, Teyla was draping his coat over his shoulders. Then Rodney was spreading a thick blanket on the floor and Ronon was setting down a huge tray filled from edge to edge with plates of food and drink. "What's going on?" John asked.

Rodney looked uncomfortable as he replied, "We thought you could use the company. Well, Teyla figured you could. I mean...she thought you were acting weird and knowing that you wouldn't talk about it she figured we'd just hang out or something." He realized everyone was staring at him somewhat dazedly and glared back. "Fine! Shutting up now!"

"What Rodney was trying to say is that we're here if you need us," Ronon translated, as he sat down and grabbed a roll. "Now let's eat." He tossed a roll to John.

John caught it and found himself smiling as Teyla tugged him over to the blanket. He even let her fuss to get his jacket on and lay a small, light, blanket over his shoulders. But as he joined his friends, John realized the warmth he could feel seeping into him was from their presence, not from the blanket. He looked at them and said, "Thanks."

They knew they didn't have to reply. Ronon and Rodney dug in while Teyla urged him to eat then asked where his pills were. John took a bite of the roll and dug out the bottle. He accepted a glass of juice, took the pill, then continued nibbling as Rodney and Ronon argued over who got what dessert.

His demons were still lingering over his shoulder, and John knew he would need the ambien if he were to get any sleep tonight, but he also knew that things would be all right in the end. Sure he was still afraid, and he knew he'd still struggle with his most recent demons for the next few days. Or weeks. But he also knew that his friends would be here to help him through it.

John could feel the shadows melting into the light.

THE END