Touched By An Ancient
By Ann3
Summary: One way or another, Carson Beckett has to face his fears, and accept his destiny.
Spoilers: None for the story itself, but reference made to Rising and, later in the story, Duet
Set during season two
Disclaimer: Really wish I owned these characters – but since I don't, I'll just have to borrow them.
They'll all be returned, safe and sound, to their respective owners – even Carson. Honest !
Writer's note: Carson's 'journey' within this story stems from the background I gave him in Hope Reborn, so you might want to read that earlier story first. Hope you enjoy !
Chapter 1
"Damn it, Carson, concentrate…! We need those drones…! Now…!"
"You try and concentrate, Rodney, with half a bloody ceiling falling on top of you…!"
At any other time she might have smiled. Or laughed. Or fought the urge to bang their heads together. When it came to bickering, these two could easily put the stroppiest of feuding siblings to shame.
But there wasn't time for Elizabeth Weir to enjoy this latest battle of wills and wits between them. Atlantis was in trouble. Serious trouble. She needed all the help she could get to defend her people. She needed her CMO to put his fear of it aside, and let that terrifying power back into his mind.
That power had already taken a heavy toll on his strength, Elizabeth now noted in guilty concern. Even with all the sweat and dust caked thickly across it, his face was pale. Unnaturally pale.
But Carson Beckett knew that, whatever its consequences, he had to ignore this mind-splitting pain. He had to do this. He had to overcome this deep rooted terror within him, because if he didn't – well, allowing Atlantis and, inevitably, Earth too, to fall to the Wraith just didn't bear thinking about.
He was so tired, though. Just so tired. So completely fed up with this whole bloody business.
Elizabeth's voice filtered through the searing agony, offering him much needed, rallying comfort.
"I know it's hard, Carson, but please… just – just do your best… without those drones to protect us…"
Another explosion rocked the room, choking its occupants in another cascade of dust and rubble. It was McKay's reaction, though, its panic-fuelled crassness, which caused the greater damage.
"…without those drones, Carson, we're toast. So just quit whining and get the damn things airborne. Whatever you were thinking when you almost took out Sheppard, start thinking it now…!"
It was a low blow. One that McKay already regretted, with or without Elizabeth's bullwhip rebuke.
"Rodney…!"
Regrets and rebukes meant nothing, though. The damage was brutally, and irreversibly, done. What little colour there had been in Carson Beckett's face now drained completely away – his telltale refusal to meet the scientist's eyes showing just how deeply those jibes had hurt him.
Leaving McKay to stew in his conscience, Elizabeth now struggled to repair the damage he'd caused.
"You can do this, Carson, I know you can. I've every confidence in you, you know that, don't you…? I know you can get those drones back in the air again, Carson, you just need to concentrate…"
That won her a still shaky smile as Carson nodded, screwing up his eyes in the struggle to comply. After several stuttering false starts, the Chair beneath him finally glowed and hummed back to life. Seconds later the city shook again, as her precious means of defence thundered back into action.
Yet beyond her pride at his courage, Elizabeth Weir felt a chill of irrational unease run through her. The laboured breathing was quieter now, settling into a much shallower, unnaturally slow speed.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open, wide and even more vividly blue against the paleness of his face – the surprise within them gradually yielding to a peaceful, almost resigned serenity as they met and held hers. Even as this struggle for survival swung back in their favour, it was almost as if Carson Beckett was telling her that…
"Atlantis, this is Sheppard. I don't know if you can still hear me, or who sent the fireworks up here. But if it's who I think it is, then way to go, doc…! At least you're aiming at the right guys this time. Just keep 'em coming, though, doc, and… well, thanks to you, we may just be home for dinner…"
However irreverent, the relief in John Sheppard's voice had sent fresh hope through the entire room. After several hours of terrifying assault upon her, the tide was turning. Atlantis was fighting back.
Within seconds, though, cheering applause for her other unsung hero died into horrified silence. Carson Beckett wasn't smiling. He wasn't enjoying this richly deserved, rare moment of appreciation. Instead he lay unnervingly still and silent, within a shroud of equally unnatural, pulsating light – beyond all reach of Elizabeth's horrified yells of his name as that light seeped slowly into his body.
"Carson…? Carson, can you hear me…? Carson…? Carson…!"