Ghosts and Guilt, SGA, R

[phantisma]

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Title: Ghosts and Guilt
Charcater: John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Samantha Carter, Dr. Keller, Rodney McKay
Rating: R
Word Count: 941
Summary: Sheppard is confronted by the ghosts from his past and the guilt he carries buried inside him.

A/Ns & Warnings: So that second card for angst_bingo Yeah...ladywinchester picked the SGA fandom for five prompts from that card. This is the first of those five prompts. Written for my second card for angst_bingo.




John Sheppard was not a man who dwelled on the past. He didn't rest on his laurels or wallow in his failures. He wasn't one to visit the graves of those he'd lost over and over, holding on to some fading memory of who he remembered them to be.

He learned a long time before that the past was the past and holding on to it only lead to heartache, missed opportunities and sleepless nights.

It was how he functioned as he rose, almost reluctantly, through the ranks and became a commanding officer. It was inevitable that he would lose people under his command. All commanding officers did, and if he let himself dwell on their names and faces, it would paralyze him.

So he didn't.

He said his goodbyes, he made the trip home through the gate to notify their families. He stood by the mothers and fathers and wives and husbands and daughters and sons as they buried empty caskets. He wrote his reports and filed them and he went back to Atlantis.

He didn't believe in ghosts, didn't allow the notion of those he'd lost to interfere with his daily existence.

And yet, he found himself here, trapped in some long forgotten part of the city, held prisoner by the very things he didn't believe in, didn't allow to bother him.

"Rodney!" John tried to keep the frantic out of his voice, tried to growl impatiently rather than in fear…but these….ghosts had already proven they could hurt him.

"Working on it," came Rodney's reply.

"Work faster." John said, moving away from the image of Lt. Barnes moving toward him.

"You ordered me into that trap."

"You're not real." John whispered. "You're just a part of my mind."

"Really?" Lt. Barnes punched him hard across the jaw. "That feel real enough for you?"

"Leave the poor lad alone, Lieutenant." Carson's lilting voice said behind him, his hand on John's shoulder. "Can't you see he's not quite himself, are you, Colonel?"

"Carson?" John turned, but Carson's face was scowling at him.

"Besides I get him first." Carson's hand tightened and dragged him backward, into a dark room. John could feel the others, gathering around him. "You let me die, Colonel."

He shoved and John crashed to the ground his gun skittering away into the darkness. Not that it was going to do any good against ghosts…or whatever the hell these were.

"Do you know what it feels like to have your body ripped to shreds and burned?"

"Carson…" John held up his hands to ward him off, but somehow his hands passed right through him. Carson chuckled and kept coming, straddling over him now.

"Lets say we show you, eh?"

Something cut into him, into his stomach and John gasped, curling forward. Carson cocked his head to the side. "Come now, we're barely getting started."

John crawled backward, pulling himself out from under Carson. "Not real." The blood soaking his uniform seemed real enough however and John pressed a hand to the wound.

"Now he's mine." A hand closed around his neck and dragged him up, pinning him against the wall.

"Ford?" John gasped and pulled at the hand holding him.

"I want a piece." Another hand closed around his wrist and pulled.

"Me too." His other hand was pulled and Ford growled.

John didn't even recognize the faces surrounding him now, villagers by the dress, nameless, faceless people who had died because of him. Killed by the Wraith, or worse…they were closing in on him and if they didn't pull him apart, he was going to suffocate under the weight of them.

His body shook with the blows of angry hands, of farm implements and blades until he was sliding down the wall to the floor and everything was going black.



"He took a pretty bad blow to the head, but otherwise, he should be fine."

He was vaguely aware that he was in the infirmary, and the voice was Dr. Keller's. He was thirsty and he hurt in places he didn't want to think about as he struggled to open his eyes. "Easy now, Colonel." Keller said, her hand settling on his shoulder.

John squinted up at Colonel Carter and McKay. "What happened?"

Sam put her hand on his foot and smiled. "Ronon found you in one of the corridors after the power failure. You seem to have hit your head."

John tried to sit up, but his head throbbed and he gave up, pressing one hand to the bandages wrapped around his forehead. "No…there was…" He frowned, remembering the room, the ghosts. His hand flew to his stomach where Carson had cut him.

He could feel their knives and hands, see their faces. They tried to kill him. He deserved to die. He let them die.

"Did you see something?" Carter asked, frowning at him.

"No." John answered, shrugging a little. His guilt roiled in his stomach, but he exhaled and looked up at her. "No, just…one minute I was going to the gym, the next minute I was here."

Dr. Keller checked his eyes and nodded. "I want to keep you a while, keep an eye on that concussion."

John closed his eyes, the sight of the ghostly faces, the feeling of their anger. It was real. He knew it was.

"Hey." John opened his eyes. Ronon was looking down at him. "You okay?"

John swallowed and nodded, glancing up at him.

"You were pretty out of it when I found you."

"I'm okay, Ronon." John answered. The others withdrew, but Ronon hovered. They both knew he wasn't okay. But John wasn't about to admit it.