Chapter 12 – Disconnected

John remembered pain, even though he had been unconscious and unaware of it at the time—searing fire as the Ancient drug pushed through his veins, trying to burn its way through into the rest of his body. He remembered the gathering storm, the angry clouds on the horizon, the bright white lightning illuminating them from within. He remembered the terrifying dive toward the ocean and having no strength to pull out of it, his body consumed in a blinding rush of agony and confusion. He remembered trying unsuccessfully to fight down the panic, to think, just think about anything. And he remembered hands closing over his on the controls, lending him the strength necessary to pull up and keep from crashing into the deadly storm-tossed waters below.

Sheppard knew without question that it had been Rodney. He remembered a frantic, freaked-out determination that only McKay could exude, and it had been oddly reassuring. He'd let go of the controls then, knowing that McKay had a better chance of getting them through the storm in one piece than he did. Apparently he'd been right about that because he found himself staring at the infirmary ceiling through half-open eyes. John didn't remember the trip home. After he'd let go, he didn't remember much of anything, except for flashes of pain and McKay's constant, frantic, annoying, centering presence. Now he felt numb. The headache that had plagued him for however many days was gone, his blood no longer tried to set fire to his arteries as it pulsed through them. He couldn't feel Rodney's presence anymore…which really wasn't very comforting at all.

John lifted his head anxiously and looked around, his strength giving out just as he spotted McKay in the bed next to his. Dropping back onto the pillow, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and listened to the beeping of the monitors, the one keeping track of his heartbeat slowing back down so that it nearly fell into sync with Rodney's. Even knowing that McKay was right there, alive, John still felt oddly detached and alone. He chalked it up to being tired and closed his eyes, fully expecting to be asleep again within seconds, but sleep just wouldn't come. He lay there for a few minutes before the silence got the better of him. "Rodney?" A moment passed, and John rolled his head to the right and tried again, "Hey, McKay, you awake?" Still getting no response, he sighed and turned his eyes back to the ceiling.

"Sheppard? God, what time is it?" Rodney groaned.

John turned back so quickly that he felt something pull in his neck. "Late…sorry," he shot the scientist a sheepish grin.

"Yes, well, since I'm awake now, what do you want?"

"Just…nothing, just making sure you were okay." John cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked back at the ceiling.

"Jeez, Sheppard, it's the middle of the night…that better not be the only thing you woke me up for, because if it is, I swear I'll…"

John ignored the scientist's grumping and asked hesitantly, "Do you...remember anything from when I connected with you before?"

"No. I was in a coma, remember?"

"Oh."

Was that disappointment in Sheppard's voice? Rodney turned to look at the colonel and frowned, "Why, do you remember something? Carson's the one you need to blame for that, by the way. He made me connect with you."

John laughed softly, but when he spoke his voice was sober, "I was flying through a storm, but the jumper wouldn't respond. I was going down, I knew I was, and I couldn't pull out of the dive…but then it felt like there was someone else there, holding off the storm, helping me fly…" Sheppard trailed off, looking at Rodney then and not missing the deer-in-the-headlights expression before the scientist became very interested in the ceiling. The silence stretched on for a few moments and John started to wonder if McKay was ignoring him.

"I did have a strange dream—more like a hallucination, really—before."

"Yeah?" John prompted when Rodney didn't elaborate.

"You know, I'm surprised those drugs Carson used are even legal because they seriously messed me up. I mean, I could've sworn you were doing a mind-meld on me. You even recited that saying from Star Trek…you know, 'my mind to your mind, etc., etc.' which you would totally never do."

John managed to close his mouth before Rodney saw that it was hanging open, and he cleared his throat, "No, no of course not."

They both turned back to stare at the ceiling, and it was fully five minutes before McKay broke the silence again, "Sheppard?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't…um…tell anyone about the dream, okay?"

"'kay. Don't tell anyone I almost crashed a jumper," John mumbled tiredly.

"Go to sleep, Sheppard."

"He's not awake yet, but his vitals have been stable since early this morning so I'm hopeful…no, no indication of brain damage…aye, same for Rodney…all right, love."

John listened without any particular interest, slowly figuring out that Carson was conversing with someone over the radio. He was still drifting a little and so the doctor's approaching footsteps didn't fully register until warm fingers wrapped around his wrist, checking his pulse. His body jerked slightly in surprise and with an effort he managed to open his eyes just a little, but they felt sticky and didn't want to focus.

"That's it, lad, come on back," Beckett encouraged softly.

Sheppard blinked, trying to comply with the request. He shifted, apparently the wrong way, and immediately squeezed his eyes closed against the painful throbbing that awakened in his arm. His breath hitched, his mind immediately recalling the incident in the rec room, but he managed to drag his focus back to Carson who was worriedly calling out to him. "Hurts…" John whispered, his throat too dry and breathing too shallow to do more than that.

"Your arm?" Beckett questioned, concerned until he received a small nod from his patient. With the way Sheppard had reacted, he had feared the migraine was still plaguing the man. He patted the colonel's shoulder. "Hold on for just a moment, son. I'll get ya somethin' for that."

John nodded, eyes still closed, and listened to the footsteps retreat. They soon returned, and he let out a deep breath as the throbbing faded away due to whatever the doc had injected in his IV. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Sorry about that, lad. Ya banged your arm pretty good when ya came to at the cabin and we had ta fix a few torn stitches when we got ya back here, but I didn't want ta give ya too much in the way of pain medication until I'd run some blood work and seen ya awake."

"'s okay."

"How are ya doing otherwise? Any pain?"

"Maybe a little stiff from laying around, but otherwise no," John said, sounding surprised. "Does that mean…?"

Beckett smiled and nodded. "As far as I can tell, aye. You're no longer bein' affected by the device. In fact, we left it back on PX9-253. Ronon wanted ta destroy it, but until I was certain ya wouldn't suffer any ill effects, I told him ta leave it be. Thus far, it looks like he may still get his wish."

"How'd you turn it off?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"Rodney would be the one ta ask about that, I'm afraid." Carson pulled up a chair and sat down with a sigh. "Your body was shutting down, most likely as a result of that drug, but possibly just from the stress of the past few days. I have no way of knowing, as there wasn't much of the drug left ta analyze. Then Rodney connected with ya like you'd done with him, and things started ta turn around fairly quickly. I admit the two of ya scared a few months off my life when ya collapsed in a heap right afterward, though."

John winced. "Sorry."

Beckett waved off his apology. "Not your fault, lad. I'd say some sort of reaction was inevitable with everything that happened, but you and Rodney are both doing as well as can be expected now and that's what counts."

"Yeah, he seemed good when I talked to him earlier." Seeing the odd look on Beckett's face, John frowned. "What?"

"Colonel…this is the first either of ya has woken up. You've both been unconscious since we brought ya back last night."

John shook his head. "I talked to him a few hours ago, Doc. We discussed our weird…connection. You can't tell me I dreamed it all."

"I'm not saying that ya did, in fact I very much doubt it. Ya were unconscious, Colonel, not asleep. We've been continuously monitoring both of ya, which is why I can say with certainty that neither of ya woke up earlier."

"Well if I didn't talk to him and it wasn't a dream, how would you explain it?" John countered.

Beckett shrugged. "I'm not sure that I can, other than the fact that you and Rodney had somewhat of a rough night. Your heart couldn't decide whether it wanted ta beat too fast or too slow, and his blood pressure got so low at one point that he should've been in shock. Around 0330, Megan reported that both of your brain activity increased briefly, and about five minutes after that is when your vitals finally stabilized for good. Maybe ya experienced some sort of residual connection from the device?" Carson suggested. "It's really hard ta say, but unless it happens again, I wouldn't be all that concerned. You've both been through a lot."

John nodded slowly, considering it. "You're sure that Ancient thing isn't still affecting us?"

"I'll be keeping ya here a day or two for observation, just ta make sure, but unless it's powerful enough ta span light years, I think it's safe ta say you're out of range, lad."

"Good to know," John said, looking over at McKay. "When do you think he'll wake up?"

Again Beckett shrugged. "It could be five minutes or five hours from now, but his vitals are good, so I don't doubt that he'll be awake sometime this afternoon. Speaking of which, if you're feeling up to it, Elizabeth has something she'd like ta discuss with ya. She said she'd stop by a little later on."

Sheppard nodded and opened his mouth to answer, but yawned instead. "Maybe I'll take a nap until she gets here," he said, giving Carson a sheepish grin.

Beckett snorted. "Good idea, Colonel. I'll leave ya to it. Just let us know if ya need anything."

"Will do. Thanks."

John was used to waking in the infirmary surrounded by his team, and while it wasn't unusual that Elizabeth would drop by at some point to check that he was all right, she didn't tend to do the whole bedside vigil thing. Waking from his nap to find Elizabeth rather than his team, then, caught John a little off-guard, even though he'd been expecting her. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," Elizabeth said, smiling as she put down the book she'd been reading. "Carson says you're feeling better?"

"Yeah, the headache's gone, hopefully for good this time." He yawned again, in spite of having just woken up. "Sorry, the painkillers Beckett has me on for my arm are making me a little sleepy."

Elizabeth returned his smile. "I'll say. He told me you decided on a 'nap' almost four hours ago."

John ignored her teasing and craned his neck toward Rodney's bed. "McKay's still out?"

"Yes, but Carson said not to worry. He still expects Rodney to be awake by tonight, it's just taking him a while. Apparently connecting with that Ancient device is hard work."

"Yeah, you could say that," John replied with a wry smile before deciding to change the subject. "I heard you wanted to talk to me about something?"

Elizabeth nodded. Her expression grew serious, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that John couldn't quite put his finger on. "I hope you don't mind, but I had Major Lorne temporarily re-arrange the duty rosters," she began. "A…situation…developed in your absence that needed to be handled immediately."

"What kind of a situation?" John asked warily, anxiety beginning to creep in.

"Nothing serious, just a trading mission that I felt could do with a little extra military backup. I had Major Lorne provide me with a list of…candidates…and assigned them to the mission based upon his recommendation. The major's own team accompanied them, just to make sure there was no trouble. It's only fourteen of your men, and they're due back just over four days from now, possibly sooner depending on how things go on P8X-992."

P8X-992?! John's eyes widened, then narrowed at the mischievous look on the expedition leader's face. "Elizabeth," he asked slowly, "what reason could you possibly have to send fourteen of my men, plus Lorne's team, to Snow Globe?!" They both knew the planet wasn't nearly dangerous enough to require an enhanced military presence for trade. It had gotten its nickname for a reason: its climate was frigid and snowy, and its people could have been the cast of a children's movie about Santa's village at the North Pole. They weren't elves or anything like that…just annoyingly, overwhelmingly friendly and cheerful. And they liked to sing. A lot. Thinking about it, John suddenly put two and two together, and grinned in spite of himself, but then his expression sobered, remembering his last trip there. "Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"

Elizabeth looked genuinely surprised. "You don't think I'm letting them off too easily? I would have thought after what Rodney showed you…"

"Rodney never showed me anything."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, then carefully unfolded a sheet of paper from her pocket and turned it to face him, smirking a little when his jaw dropped. "Still think I was too harsh?"

John just groaned, taking the paper from her. He felt a slight flush creep into his face as he stared at his and Elizabeth's faces plastered onto bodies—albeit bodies that were obviously not their own—clad in nothing but skimpy bathing suits and holding P-90s. He slowly brought his eyes to meet hers and they shared an uncomfortable look before he asked with trepidation, "How much damage was done?"

"I can't be sure. They were plastered over every inch of my office walls one morning, but somehow I don't think the culprit was quite brave enough to send it as a citywide e-mail."

"But I thought you said McKay had a copy…"

"He's been told in no uncertain terms what would happen if he passed this on. I think it's safe to say that, for once, his lips are sealed."

"At least until he wakes up, or needs some good material for blackmail."

"I thought it was customary to be nice to sick people," a voice mumbled nearby.

"Hey, McKay, it's about time!" John carefully shifted and grinned, watching his friend's attempts at getting his eyes open. He was somewhat jealous at how quickly Rodney succeeded.

"Yes, well, I would've been awake sooner but someone insisted on waking me up in the middle of the night to tell me stories about crashing jumpers."

"Hey! I thought we agreed not to discuss that further."

"No, you agreed not to tell anyone about my…hallucination. Then you listened to my advice and went to sleep," McKay smiled smugly.

Elizabeth watched their exchange curiously. She could have sworn Carson said they'd both been unconscious all night. Her radio beeped then, distracting her from their conversation. "This is Weir."

"Ma'am, Lt. Davis and Sgt. Munroe are requesting to return to Atlantis from P8X-992."

"Have they been briefed by Major Lorne about the consequences of an early return?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth grinned, fighting to keep the amusement from her voice as she replied, "Very well. Let them through." When she tapped off her radio, she found John staring at her.

"Consequences of an early return?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"They can stay the week, or return early and be subject to a week's worth of special duty assignments."

"What kind of special duty assignments?"

Shrugging, Elizabeth picked up her book. "That's up to you. I got mine, Colonel. Now it's your turn. Consider it a get well present that I never want to know another thing about."

"Yes, ma'am." Sheppard grinned and Elizabeth high-fived him on her way out the door.

THE END!!!!