The Greater Good

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Hello again, peeps !! Yes, as promised (or threatened, depending on your point of view...) I've taken inspiration from Hypercaz (thanks, sweets...!) and written this sequel to Twice Blessed.

We left our favourite lovebirds as proud parents, without a care in the world - well, apart from who got to change two lots of nappies...!

All that, though, is about to change. Hypercaz wanted to throw some threat or danger into the mix, and... oh yes, it's coming, big time...! The question is - how far will Carson go to protect his family...?

So read on, find out - and, as always, I hope you enjoy ! Special thanks, too, for the wonderful Hypercaz, for giving my plot bunny something to nibble on, besides mouldy old carrots... :o)

Chapter One

Hunter, Hunted

"Oh, God, no... sweet God, no..."

Rarely in the three years that they'd been on Atlantis had a single, barely audible voice conveyed such heartfelt dread. And more rarely still had Carson Beckett's face turned so pale, in complete shock, as it did now – the pure horror in his eyes saying it all, expressing everything he couldn't bring himself to say out loud.

He'd even rubbed those eyes, in the silently desperate hope that what they were telling wasn't real. It was, though. However much he tried to deceive himself, the scanners in front of him weren't lying.

Wraith ships. A whole bloody fleet of them. And they were headed straight for Atlantis.

Through a sickening twist of irony, Carson now stood in front of that screen in a trance of silent horror. Seconds ago, he could hardly bear to look at it. Now, though, he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

An attack of that magnitude...? A fleet of that size...? Its likeliest source...? Its likeliest target...?

And a question which horrified Carson more than anything else, one that chilled him to his core. How the hell had they managed to stay undetected, even on Atlantis' deepest scanners, for so long...?

'You're exactly what I need... now, let's begin...'

To the rising alarm of those around him, Carson now all but collapsed onto the desk-edge behind him. His face had lost all its colour, his eyes all their focus – and, it seemed, his body all its strength.

Not even John Sheppard's gentle hand on his shoulder could break the grip of a returning nightmare. And that nightmare, one that had nearly claimed both his mind and his life, went by one, single name.

Michael.

He must have whispered that name, reacted to its memory, since the grip on his shoulder tightened – John Sheppard's voice, the quiet firmness of its conviction, conveying the same rallying strength.

"We don't know that, Carson. But even if it is him, even if he is leading this attack, we'll stop him. I promise you that, Carson, okay...? We've stopped him once, remember...? We can do it again..."

Stricken blue eyes finally met his, struggling to find hope, the ability to believe this heartfelt promise. But one crucial difference between the past and the present made it impossible for Carson to do so.

When Michael had wreaked that brutal revenge on him, down in the Wraith POW camp all those months ago, he'd been... expendable.

If he'd died then, well... well, yes, his loss would have devastated many lives, shattered many hearts. His mother's, the rest of his family. His surrogate family, here on Atlantis. And, of course, Laura's too

They would have mourned him, celebrated his life. Recovered and regrouped. Bravely moved on. But to possibly face that threat again, with not just those lives to consider now but his children's too...?

True, Megan and Jamie were only three months old still, both much too young to form any real memories of him, but –

'Oh, cr-...'

"Carson...? Hey, buddy, come on, it's gonna be alright, we're gonna stop them... it's gonna be okay..."

Coming to with a start, Carson blinked up towards that voice's source through strangely blurry eyes. From his left side, to dazedly puzzled surprise, a cup of water was pressed gently into his hand – another anxious voice to his right frettishly asking whether or not he 'needed something stronger...'

"No, Rodney, he doesn't... it's okay, he's coming out of it now... just give him some air..."

'What the hell are ye on about, son...? Comin' out o' what...?'

Carson blinked once more, gingerly shaking his head to clear it as the panic attack relaxed its hold.

The hand on his shoulder had moved now, circling up and around his back in gently reviving sweeps. John Sheppard's voice continued to gently coax him back from... well, wherever the hell he'd been. And at Teyla's gentle prompting, more sips of water finally brought him back to still dazed reality.

Yet even as he returned to it, that reality was still almost too much for Carson Beckett to cope with. His re-woken nightmare was still there, relentlessly advancing on the main scanners beside him.

In just over five days, unless John Sheppard could stop them, the Wraith would wreak hell on Atlantis. And a day that had started so happily, to such joy and laughter, was now ending in complete despair – because Carson Beckett now had to make the most painful decision that he'd ever faced in his life.