Chapter 28: Major Davis

Alex hadn't realized he had missed Greg's presence, until Greg was the person showing up with some actual clothes for him. It took far longer than he would like to admit to change into the clothes – and that was going to take some getting used to for the next couple of days – but eventually, he felt more or less like a real person.

Greg had even brought him shoes.

His euphoric high of getting out of the infirmary lasted all the way until Dr. Beckett mentioned that he was to go nowhere other than his quarters or to see Major Davis.

Because, yeah.

Major Davis.

That was one conversation he was not interested in having.

"Major Davis wants to see you sooner rather than later," Greg said, the moment they stepped into the transporter. He seemed more serious than usual. Or maybe he was just annoyed.

And just like that, all hopes Alex had of avoiding that conversation vanished into thin air. "Yeah, alright."

Greg side eyed him for a moment, finger hesitating on the destination button. "You're… sure? You're… up to it?"

Alex squared his shoulders, faking health and vitality. "Might as well get it over with."

Greg sent him another wary glance – and really, he had been the one to bring it up first, so – then tapped the screen to send them to their next destination. Alex tried not to think about his momentous last transporter experience. The burning pain was seared into his memory.

Not an experience he really wanted to relive every time he went into a transporter…

Greg led the way down a generic looking hall and Alex truthfully had no idea where he was in Atlantis. One of these days, he was going to need to just memorize the maps.

Assuming he had very many more days…

Greg knocked on a door and, surprisingly, it didn't automatically open after a moment, like usual.

Perhaps the occupant was out?

Maybe he could avoid Major Davis for another couple of hours…?

No luck.

The door slid open, but instead of inviting them into the office, Major Davis just nodded a hello at Alex and waved them into another room across the hall.

This one felt slightly more like an interrogation room and was a little bit sparse for Alex's comfort.

Interview it seemed was code word for interrogation.

And his last experience with that hadn't gone too well.

Alex gingerly sat down on the edge of the chair that Major Davis waved him to and wondered how long this was going to take. After all, Dr. Beckett and Dr. Morray had warned him about sitting for prolonged periods of time. Not to mention, it was uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Simmons." Major Davis waved Greg out of the room, then shut the door.

The two of them.

Alone.

Alex couldn't help but fidget with his fingers, feeling uncomfortably trapped. And though he wasn't quite sure he was ready to look Greg in the eye and admit what he had done… it would've been nice to feel like he had someone on his side.

"It's good to see you're up and about, Alex," Major Davis took the chair across the table, looking much more relaxed and at ease than Alex felt. "They've given you a clean bill of health?"

Alex shrugged, going to the casual approach. "They let me out, if that's what you mean."

"Hmm… Still, major back surgery and up and walking in four days seems to be pretty good." He nodded as if that answered his question. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions about what's going on here, why I'm here, but…" He waved his hand, as if to encompass all of Alex's possible questions. "My job right now is to find out the facts."

Alex blinked. Facts. "Of what… happened?" It seemed a little extreme to bring in a major based on earth, in Alex's opinion. Sheppard could've asked him the same questions, easily. And he would've been more likely to answer.

"Yes, precisely."

"Why?" The question slipped out without Alex's permission.

Major Davis folded his hands carefully on the table, meeting Alex's eyes in a serious gaze. "Because there have been several… events, over the past week that have brought to light… issues in some of the lower-ranked personnel."

It was a very politically worded statement and it took a moment for Alex to parse through it. "Several events?"

"Six court martials and one official reprimand. A seventh is pending, but it could be a civilian colluder."

Six court martials.

What had he missed?

Was this why Sheppard had looked so stressed out every time he had come to visit in the infirmary – and refused to ask any questions about how he had gotten his injuries.

A civilian colluder.

"Do you suspect me?" Alex asked, horrified. He didn't even know what his rights were.

Major Davis looked just as shocked at that question. "No! What?" He shook his head. "Alex, you're a witness. A victim."

Ah, there was a word he didn't like. Victim.

He had made his own choices. That it had ended how it had… wasn't his fault though.

"Look, I'm going to record this." Major Davis pulled out a pen length device that had a simple on/off switch, and flipped it on. "I just need you to recount where you were and what you did on the evening of the 18th."

There were, of course, different ways he could approach this. None of it would look flattering on him. It would just give Woolsey more ammunition to get him off the city. Try as Sheppard might, Alex wasn't blind to that particular source of dislike.

He didn't understand it, but it was definitely there.

So, Alex picked his words carefully. "I… decided to leave my quarters and didn't tell Private Martins. Came across a group… training and well, joined them. I've done it with other groups. I guess things might've gotten a little… aggressive. My back started hurting. Tried to get to the infirmary, but… yeah." Alex shrugged a little self-depreciating. "Got lost. Pretty sure Major Lorne knows the rest of the story better than I do."

He hardly remembered seeing Major Lorne, much less anything that had come after that. Not until he vaguely remembered having a serious conversation with Sheppard. Something about agreeing to the sub cue. Other than that though… nothing.

Major Davis' mouth turned down. Clearly, he wasn't satisfied with Alex's explanation. He reached out and flipped the recorder off. "Alex… while I'm sure nothing you said there was blatantly false…" He tapped the table sharply. "You left out a lot of details. You just stumbled across this group training? You had no idea who they were or where you were? And they just let you leave when, oh yes, you were in so much pain you couldn't walk or stand when Major Lorne found you?"

Alex tried to hide his grimace. So, there were a few holes in it. Nothing blatantly false.

"I'm not sure who you think you're protecting – because so far this doesn't look good for anyone." He started ticking things off on his fingers, watching Alex closely. "Out of quarters without an escort. Potentially dangerous exploration of the city, alone. Mingling with supposedly unknown individuals for an unauthorized training session, after being told, explicitly that certain individuals would not appreciate your presence."

Alex wanted to sink down in his chair. Because this was how he got thrown off of Atlantis.

Hopefully they would let him heal first.

Give him a good head start on the Trust.

Major Davis wasn't finished. "Said individuals proceed to maim you and leave you behind, despite the fact that standing orders on this base are to promote civilian safety. This was no accident in training, because each one of those marines made a decision to shirk their duty."

Maim you.

Leave you behind.

They knew.

Or he knew. Some of the pieces, at least.

Enough to get a scarily accurate picture of what may have happened.

"Alex, we have enough evidence for these court martials, with or without anything you say. That's not going to change." Major Davis leaned into the table, fixing Alex with a serious gaze. "Your witness statement will help us put together some of the pieces though, connect the events, provide motive. Help us figure out what went wrong here and prevent it from happening again."

"And if there's retaliation?" The question slipped out before Alex even realized he was concerned about it. That someone else in the ranks would take up the cause and decide that Alex was persona non-grata because he had helped get someone kicked out of the marines.

"Of the people I've interviewed in connection with this case, they are all horrified that such an action was taken against a civilian." Major Davis rearranged himself, before frowning slightly. "Unfortunately, the only one who hasn't quite grasped the gravity of the situation appears to be Mr. Woolsey."

Lovely.

"Woolsey however, is a civilian, and as such, will not be privy to the results of today's interview. However, with your permission I will share it with Colonel Sheppard. So you don't have to repeat yourself." He shared a conspiratorial smile with Alex, perhaps realizing even before Alex did that he was going to have to tell the full truth. Major Davis reached out and turned on the recording device once again. "Alright, Alex, walk me through where you went and who you saw the evening of the 18th."

It had taken a couple of hours to get through the detail that Major Davis seemed to want.

What was the nature of his altercation with Sergeant Jamison earlier in the day?

How was Private Martins positioned that he missed Alex leaving?

What halls did he go through?

What was his original motivation for exploring that particular area of the city?

Did he ever notice the time?

What was his motivation to making an informal agreement with Jamison? Why did he think it would change the outcome?

Who all had he sparred with? Names, physical descriptions?

What occurred after the first match with Jamison? Did Alex think he could have forfeited the second safely?

Once he was injured, what happened? Did anyone offer assistance?

How long did he think it had taken to find help?

Question, after question, after question.

After about twenty minutes, sitting became painful, so Alex got up and started pacing. Slowly from one side of the room to the other. When that got too tiring, he switched back to sitting – constantly answering Major Davis' questions and probes for more information, more detail.

When Major Davis finally released him, Alex wanted nothing more than to immediately collapse on the floor, but he had to get to his quarters first. Which meant walking the halls – slowly, very slowly – with Greg all but hovering at his side.

He was about due for his next painkiller too and Dr. Beckett would kill him if he dared miss a dose.

Greg stopped him just before he got into his quarters, frustration apparently finally winning out over concern. "Just… what were you thinking?"

Alex grimaced, because he really didn't want to go through this again. "I wasn't."

"I told you that Jamison was bad news. And you, what, went and hunted him down?" Greg sounded appalled. "And fought him?"

Alex wanted to throw his hands up in the air, but that was directly on the list of things not to do. No sudden movements. "Didn't exactly hunt him down, but impulsive teenager, here." Really, it was the best explanation he could come up with. Exactly the same reason he had always gotten into so much trouble related to MI6. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. Jamison just happened to be the end result this time.

Greg just gaped at him and Alex took the opportunity to slip into his quarters and hide from the rest of the world. He downed a couple of pain pills, reorganized the multitude of pillows that had appeared in his absence, and laid down.

He was so done with today.

"Room service," A voice called out, pulling Alex out of the light doze he had slipped into.

Alex squinted an eye at the clock on the wall – past dinner time – then carefully rolled over to see who was trying to break into his quarters.

Sheppard had a tray of food, but notably, hadn't yet crossed the threshold. "And Carson says you had better have taken your meds. He's going to pill count tomorrow."

Alex groaned, then carefully maneuvered himself into an upright position. Fuck, his back ached. It was a dull pain, and he wasn't too far overdue. Just by half an hour. He waved Sheppard into the room, calling up the lights to 25%. The side effect to having no windows was that it was perpetually nighttime in his room. Great for sleeping. Not so great for getting up.

It took him a moment to fumble around for some water to wash down the pills, and by then Sheppard had made the hard bench appear from his wall and had set the tray of food down. Knowing from experience that trying to eat in bed quickly became uncomfortable, Alex crossed the room and gingerly sat down.

He wasn't wearing the brace, but so long as Sheppard didn't notice, Dr. Beckett would never know.

"Had a long chat with Major Davis," Sheppard said carefully. "You were… rather reluctant to talk at first?"

Alex shrugged, then took a bite of the sandwich. Not-turkey was probably the closest they had to earth lunch meat here and well, creature comforts of home were nice sometimes.

"I know it doesn't excuse your part in it, but I would really rather not have that type of marine on my city."

That point had been hammered home by Major Davis as well. That as unfortunate as the situation was, keeping those marines on the city was only to the detriment of the rest of the occupants. Whether or not Alex carried any responsibility was a moot point – the marines should have known better.

Didn't mean it didn't make Alex feel uncomfortable for being the instigating factor for someone's removal from the city.

"Major Davis is finishing up his interviews tonight, so he and Captain Morray, along with the uh, others, will return to the SGC tomorrow." Sheppard shot him a cautious look. "I'd suggest you stay away for the dial up."

Alex grimaced, then took another bite. Jamison was about the last person he wanted to see at this point. The others in his group – who Alex didn't even know the names of – were right up there with him.

"If you're feeling up to it, I think Carson is going to let you return to the labs tomorrow, after you check in with him."

That was good.

Though how much use he was going to be, Alex wasn't sure. He clearly couldn't sit for long periods of time.

Seeming to know exactly what he was thinking, Sheppard sent him a conspiratorial grin. "Don't worry about the sitting. There were a whole three weeks where Rodney couldn't sit down because he got shot in the ass with an arrow."

An arrow? Alex mouthed the word to himself, trying to figure out how that could have even happened.

Sheppard chuckled. "Just don't tell him I told you that. But, suffice to say, they'll figure out work arounds for you."

Huh. Alex shoved the last of the sandwich in his mouth, before deciding that he should probably slow down. He grabbed another sandwich, but this time picked it apart rather than practically swallowing it whole.

Sheppard pulled something out of his pocket and set it down next to the tray. "So, where'd you get this from?"

Alex blanched. "Oh, shit." It was the life signs detector. He glanced up and met Sheppard's eyes. "I, uh, found it?"

He raised a careful eyebrow at Alex, clearly not accepting that as the whole answer.

Alex just pointed at the wall. "It just appeared; I swear."

"Huh." He got up and ran his hand across the wall where Alex had pointed. After a moment, the same tray slid out – empty this time. "Okay… and where did you last see it?"

Last see it…? "In the… training room. I put it under my hoodie…" He trailed off, because Jamison – someone – had thrown his hoodie at him. He remembered that part pretty clearly.

Sheppard nodded. "And Jamison grabbed it, and tried to use it as his alibi."

"Alibi?" There was no way that would have worked. It was just proof that they had crossed paths… and perhaps the reason why suspicion was cast on him in the first place.

"Jamison reported he had confiscated the device from you, then sent you on your way back to your quarters. He was trying to establish a chain of events that would clear him of any suspicion – and possibly attempt to accuse you of being a Trust plant."

Trust scum.

And that would have been perfect going back to Woolsey. Just more kindling for whatever fire of hate he had burning toward Alex.

Alex picked at a few more bites of the sandwich, suddenly losing his appetite. If he hadn't been injured so seriously, he would have tried to sneak back into his quarters – it would've been more difficult without the life signs detector, but… It would have set up perfectly with Jamison's story.

"They didn't think I was really hurt."

Sheppard shrugged. "Perhaps, but they bailed just about as soon as you were on the ground. That seems awful suspicious. Not to mention, since you were breaking orders, they should have escorted you back to your quarters."

Alex grimaced. Right. Breaking orders.

It was good thing he hadn't ever signed onto a military contract, because he was known for breaking orders a little too frequently in his life.

"Which—we are going to talk about at some point."

Ah, Sheppard was just going to let him stew. Perfect.

"And you can expect a direct, but brief, reprimand from General O'Neill in writing tomorrow."

Alex very carefully didn't slouch. But he did want to disappear.

"And on a more exciting note, as soon as you're officially back on your feet, you've earned a spot as the newest marine training dummy."

He sounded far too cheerful about that title. "Training dummy. Does that come with a pay raise?"

Sheppard grabbed his own sandwich, then leaned back against the wall. Clearly, they were done with the serious topics for the night. "Well, you made it clear that some of my Marines are not very observant. Makes patrols seem a little useless, if they're missing the rebellious teenagers stalking through the halls." He took a generous bite, chewing it thoughtfully. "And just think, I'll keep your identity a secret – until someone catches you."

Training dummy.

It, dare he think it, almost sounded fun.

"It will, of course, be at very structured times for training. Dummy fire only."

Alex grinned. "No zats."

"Absolutely no zats."

Huh. It would be something different, at least.

He would just have to add it to the pile of things he was finding to do on the city.

Alex,

This is supposed to be an official reprimand, so make it look like you've been properly chastised. That said, good job at finding some of the bad apples – though your technique is a little lacking. You're not supposed to end up in the infirmary. Do better next time.

Enjoy the upcoming holidays and make sure to keep Sheppard on his toes.

General Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill

A/N: Only a week for something more? A miracle! More like I'm ignoring life. Heh.