Rating: PG (violence)
Disclaimers: Nope, not mine!
Notes: This was for the weekend challenge for the LJ comm, ShepsAtlantis
"Major, I'd like you to go along."
"Yes, Ma'am," Sheppard replied, following Colonel Sumner down the stairs.
Sumner stopped as soon as Sheppard was behind him. "Let's get one thing straight, Major, You will follow any orders I give. If you put one toe out of line…"
Sheppard sighed as the Colonel turned away. This was going to be a long expedition. He had lost track of Sumner and was abruptly pulled into a corner. He felt a fist slam into his stomach and fell to the floor.
Whoever it was had a friend who didn't think Sheppard needed to see his attacker and held his head down as he spoke. "Sheppard, Holland was like a brother to me and the fact that you're here and he's not makes me realize what a coward you really are. You're just lucky Dr. Weir likes you."
A pause and then another punch, this time his face received the blow.
"Or maybe Weir's paying you in other ways," the voice said with a sneer.
Okay, that really pissed him off and Sheppard was able to break free and look into the face of the man before him. "Bates."
"Sergeant Bates, they're dialing the 'Gate now, let's go!"
"Yes, Sir!" Bates replied. "This isn't over yet, Sheppard."
Sheppard sighed, wiping the blood from the cut on his lip. "Coming out here was a great idea, Shep," he muttered.
After the celebration and two glasses of champagne, Sheppard thought it was best to turn in. He was exhausted (not that he would ever admit it to anyone) and just wanted to sleep for five days.
He had just turned the corner when he saw someone blocking his way. "Sergeant Michelson," he said with a nod. The man didn't budge. "Is there something I can help you with?"
Before Sheppard knew what was happening, Michelson had slammed him against the wall. He felt his head hit hard and saw stars. He now knew what cartoon characters felt like. Sheppard tried; with every ounce of strength he had left, to kick the sergeant.
After four futile attempts and two more head bangs against the wall, John hit the payload. He grinned in satisfaction as Michelson dropped to the floor, clutching at his groin. Sheppard gingerly stood up and headed back in the direction he came, calling Lieutenant Ford on the way.
Dr. Weir was heading to her quarters when her battered and bruised second in command came into view. "Major!" she cried, catching him as his knees gave out. "We need a medical team in the main hallway near the Gateroom!
She nodded. "It's me. Don't worry; we'll get you safely into the infirmary."
Her heart leapt into her throat when he lost consciousness. She looked around for any trauma and was shocked to feel wetness on her hand. Moving it from back of his head, she saw it was stained with blood.
Dr. Weir was relieved that they didn't have to wait long. That's a good thing when dealing with what could possibly go wrong. Case and point lying next to her on the floor.
Beckett immediately knelt beside her, checking Sheppard's vitals. "Can you tell me what you know, Love?"
"I…" She blinked, looking up at the physician. "I was heading to my quarters when I saw him. I rushed to catch him and then he lost consciousness. He hasn't been out of it for more than seven minutes."
"Get that gurney over here!" Beckett exclaimed. "I'll take good care of him, I promise. I need you to find out what happened. Can you do that?"
Dr. Weir was about to respond when a very angry Ford arrived followed closely by three Marines. Two were guarding the larger one in the middle, who had a scowl on his face. "Lieutenant?" she asked.
"Ma'am, this is Sergeant Michelson. He attacked Major Sheppard."
She had never known true hatred until that moment. How could anyone do that to another human being was beyond her. "Tell Dr. Beckett exactly what happened," Dr. Weir ground out.
"I slammed him against the wall a couple of times." The man said with a shrug, "I can't help it the guys weak. He's the reason Colonel Sumner's dead. He was too chicken to save him. No, he was probably eyeing the position Colonel Sumner had."
Ford was a little freaked out by Dr. Weir's expression. In fact, he had never seen anyone's face get so red. "Get him out of here, Lieutenant! I believe Dr. McKay found a brig, we'll keep him there for the time being."
"Yes, Ma'am," he replied.
Ford glanced at Sheppard as he was placed on the gurney. "We'll keep you posted, Lieutenant," Dr. Weir told him. He nodded and led the Marine away.
And all Dr. Weir wanted to do was scream.
John Sheppard hated concussions and he definitely had one, he could tell. Upon opening his eyes, he saw blurry versions of Dr. Beckett, Dr. Weir, McKay, Teyla, and Ford. "Hey," he tried, but nothing came out so he tried again, "Hey!"
Beckett turned around with a grin. "Oh, thank God, Major! You had us worried there for a bit, son."
"Three days," Elizabeth said.
Sheppard couldn't believe his ears. Three days! He spent his first three official days on Atlantis asleep? Jack O'Neill would be pissed at him.
He was snapped from his thoughts by Beckett fiddling with his IV. "Major, now that you're awake, we can assess your injury a little easier. We ran an MRI while you were unconscious and I'd like to do that again."
"Okay," Sheppard replied, still out of it.
Beckett sighed in relief as he looked at the MRI scans. "Well, Major, I can safely say the subdural hematoma is completely gone. You're going to be a might tired for the next few days, but as long as you stay in bed, you should be just fine."
"In bed? How long?" John asked.
"Ah, Major Sheppard!" McKay exclaimed. "Just the person I wanted to see."
"Rodney…" Beckett warned.
"I won't be long, I promise! You can work your voodoo magic over long distances anyway, right?"
Sheppard swore he heard Beckett muttering something about "cheeky little buggers".
"What did you need, McKay?"
"I found this personal shield thing," he explained. "I'm going to do a little research on it, but if I'm right, this thing could be a valuable asset to us."
"That's fine; let me know when you're ready to have me test it."
McKay nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. Hmm… I have to ask Carson…"
Sheppard was glad when McKay was out of earshot. The man was nice enough but the long winded explanations that went with him were hell on your head and he already had enough trauma on his!