1.
Chief Medical Officer Jennifer Keller pulled the suture tight with a pair of forceps, her eyes burning with the strain of little sleep and overuse.
"Almost done." She mustered a smile for the small Athosian boy perched on the table, dark little eyes staring at her like a bird. Jennifer tied off the suture and turned for the scissors, a flash of orange—
The Dedalus exploded.
One moment it was there, armored and formidable, outlined against the stars. And the next it was gone, vanished into a mushroom of orange flame.
A whole ship, gone. Hundreds of lives, snuffed out.
General Woolsey, gone.
McKay. Gone.
Vanished into the flames as if he'd never been, as if he hadn't sat at the breakfast table that morning expounding on some new theory while polishing off five pancakes with syrup. Gone as if they'd never stood on the bridge, arguing again.
If she hadn't said what she did, he wouldn't have gone. He would still be alive.
He was gone, and it was all her fault.
"Doctor Keller." A voice spoke sharply, as though it had spoken several times before.
Jennifer blinked, took a deep breath of sterile air, and the Atlantis medical center returned in a rush that sent her head pounding. She locked eyes with a little boy, his wide gaze frightened, and dropped her gaze to the scissors in her gloved hand.
"Doctor Keller." Her assistant spoke again, frowning at her. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes." Jennifer snipped the sutures and finished binding the wound with the ease of overmuch practice, humiliation rushing hot over her cheeks. How long had she been daydreaming?
She couldn't do this. Not with lives in her hands—she could hurt someone. The thought of being the cause of one more death clenched her heart into a hard ball inside her chest.
Perhaps it was time to leave Atlantis. If she couldn't do her job, was hurting those she came to help—
"Are you sure you are well?"
Jennifer looked up into the eyes of her aide, catching concern and a touch of fear.
"I am fine." Jennifer managed a smile. "Just over-tired."
"But—"
"Doctor Keller." Jennifer turned at the summons, grateful for the interruption. "The Colonel wants to see you in his office."
"I'll be right there," she said, removing her gloves. Wonder what Sheppard wants?
Sheppard sat at Woolsey's desk, only his mussed black hair and bent head visible over a stack of papers. Jennifer paused just inside the doorway and cleared her throat.
He looked up, and Jennifer frowned. He looked terrible, with the drawn features and shadows under his eyes that people get when they have slept too little and lost too much. Someone needed to sit on him and make him sleep a few hours one of these days. Teyla, or…
"Hi, Doc." Sheppard gave a half-smile, and cleared his throat. "Have a seat."
Jennifer frowned and moved a stack of papers to find a chair underneath. He wasn't looking for a brief status report. Not the Athosians, then.
Sheppard fell silent and she narrowed her eyes, watching the fast tap of his fingers on the edge of the desk. A sick feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. What was wrong? Was it Teyla? But no, if she were having complications Jennifer would be one of the first to know.
"How can I help you, Colonel?" She leaned forward in her chair.
He grimaced. "We received some news today."
Jennifer shifted in her chair, unnerved by his continued silence. It wasn't like him to be so reticent. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry, Doc." Sheppard tapped his fingers and then clasped his hands. "You know I'm not good at—emotional—stuff. It should be Woolsey, or…"
It was bad news, then. Jennifer took a deep breath. "Just tell me, Sheppard."
He cleared his throat, turning a gaze on her full of sympathy. "We received word this morning that your father passed away. A heart attack. I'm very sorry."
Jennifer grew still in her chair, her heart freezing in her chest. Her father? Her daddy, always so big and strong, who'd never been sick a day in his life? There had to be some mistake.
When she'd left him to come to Atlantis, torn herself away from his safe embrace, he'd just laughed and said he'd be there when she was done fighting the aliens.
She looked back at Sheppard, saw his lips moving without sound coming out. Saw the genuine sorrow in his eyes. The Colonel would not joke with her, not about this.
It was no mistake. Her daddy was gone.
Gone. Like Woolsey and McKay and so many others. Emotion filled her throat and burned, and she swallowed it down. There would be a funeral. She had to go, make the necessary arrangements…
"When—" She swallowed again. "When is the funeral?"
"Tomorrow," Sheppard said. "You are scheduled to leave at 0800 tomorrow."
Jennifer nodded, pushing herself up out of the chair. Her knees wobbled and she gripped the back of the seat, hoping he hadn't noticed.
"I would go with you, Doc, but—"
"Of course, not." Jennifer shook her head. "You are needed here. And you need to get some more rest." She managed a smile. "Doctor's orders."
"Doc—"
"Do not concern yourself, Sheppard." A light touch on Jennifer's elbow made her turn. Teyla gave her a gentle smile. Despite a belly swollen in the last stages of pregnancy, the Athosian woman was still silent on her feet.
"I will go with Jennifer," Teyla said.
Jennifer blinked, frowned. "Don't be ridiculous, Teyla. You could have your baby any day. You can't go traipsing around the galaxy just to hold my hand." The very idea, traveling in her condition. Jennifer would never forgive herself if something happened to either Teyla or the child on her account. But still, it had been kind of Teyla to offer.
"Thank you, Teyla." Jennifer squeezed her hand. "But I will be fine."
Teyla's elegant brows narrowed and she did not move her hand from Jennifer's arm. "You are part of our family, Jennifer. We will not let you face this fresh sorrow alone."
"Teyla…" Jennifer swallowed, warmth curling in her chest at the concern in both Sheppard and Teyla's expressions. It pushed back some of the dark pressing down on her heart. "Thank-you, but you must stay here and care for your little one."
Jennifer touched a hand to Teyla's belly and felt the child kick. Wait, little one, she pleaded silently. Wait until I get back.
"I'll go."
At the deep growl behind her, Jennifer whirled, her heart jumping into her throat. Ronan filled the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on Sheppard.
"Well, there you go." Sheppard smiled at Jennifer. "Ronan will go."
She managed a weak smile, not daring to look at the other two. Ronan hadn't spoken to her since that day—it seemed forever ago—in the hallway when she'd told him she was interested in someone else. In McKay.
Jennifer felt tears rising to the surface. She had to leave.
"Excuse me," she said. "I have to…"
But the rest of the words stuck in her throat, and swallowing just made it worse. Jennifer turned and fled, vaguely aware that Ronan moved out of the doorway to let her pass.
All those men—gone.
Woolsey—gone.
McKay—gone.
And now her father, her daddy, who would always be there for her. Would always make sure she had a home to come back to.
Her daddy, the only family she had left. Gone.
Jennifer wiped a tear from her cheek, waving blindly at the sensor to let herself into her quarters. She really was alone.
She'd always hated packing.
But since she couldn't sleep, she might as well pack. It beat laying in the dark for hours, feeling sorry for herself. Jennifer sighed and shoved the hangers with scrubs aside, searching in the depths of her closet for her black pumps. She thought she'd brought them—that, and a black dress—for the infrequent special occasions on base.
But neither the shoes nor the dress were to be found.
It always seemed that no matter how much she brought, she was always missing what she needed when the time came. Daddy would tease her about the size of her suitcases, heaving them into the car and then feigning back pain until she came rushing over, full of concern.
Then he'd straighten up, perfectly sound, and roar with laughter.
Jennifer bit her lip to stem fresh tears, backing out of the closet. She'd just have to buy proper clothes when she got to Earth. Would there be time to go shopping, as well as make the other arrangements? Perhaps she'd left something suitable in her closet at home.
Someone knocked at the door, and Jennifer sighed. She wasn't fit company for anyone.
"Jennifer, it is Teyla."
"Come in."
She crossed to the bed, picking up her toiletry bag and stuffing it into her small duffel. Only a night, and then she'd be back. With the ongoing troubles, they needed all hands available in the med center.
"Good morning, Jennifer." Teyla walked toward her with grace that should be impossible for a tiny, pregnant woman. "How do you fare?"
Jennifer glanced back at her duffel, pulling the zipper shut with more force than needed. "I am fine, Teyla. Thank you."
"Truly?" Her friend's calm, gentle voice seeped through Jennifer's defenses, and she felt tears welling up again.
Honestly. The only thing she'd been good for lately was crying.
"I thought not." Teyla rested a hand on Jennifer's arm. "Are you sure—"
"Positive." Jennifer moved Teyla's hand to rest on her extended stomach. "Look after baby here and I'll be back soon. All right?"
The concern in Teyla's eyes did not waver, but she gave a slight nod. "Sheppard and I will be standing by. If you should need us, don't hesitate—"
"I'll be back before you can blink." Jennifer attempted a perky smile, but her trembling lower lip ruined the effect. "Trust me. I'll be fine."
"Very well." Teyla took Jennifer's hand and squeezed it. "I am scheduled to instruct a sparring session at 0730. So, I bid you farewell now."
"Thank-you, Teyla." Jennifer hesitated, then pulled the slender Athosian into a hug, letting the woman's calm sooth her ragged emotions. Teyla returned the embrace.
"We will be here when you return," she said. Then gasped as the unborn child kicked inside her.
Jennifer gave a breathless giggle, stepping back and patting Teyla's belly. "I think the little one is telling me to get going."
Teyla smiled, a beautiful smile. "So it would seem."
Picking up her duffel—which felt startlingly heavy for such a small bag—Jennifer walked with Teyla to the door. She glanced back and sighed.
Be back soon.
Jennifer wished they would hurry up and activate the gate, before she started crying and humiliated herself in front of all these people. Again.
It'd been bad enough that Sheppard had intercepted her in the hallway en route to the gate room, again expressing his condolences in his genuine, awkward way and causing the fountain of tears to overflow once more.
It was just as well McKay was missing this. Jennifer blinked, swallowing. He'd never been good with tears. Or emotions. Or anything that didn't have wires and circuitry, really. Jennifer shivered. But that wasn't fair. He'd tried his best.
She brought her mind firmly back to the gate room.
And now this. What was the hold up? Now she had to stand and wait, while all the occupants of the busy gate room either pretended not to notice or—worse yet—came over to shake her hand and mumble apologies.
It wasn't their fault. If it was anyone's fault, it was hers for leaving her father alone.
She felt their sympathetic stares, knew what they were thinking. Poor Doctor Keller. First all the relationship problems. Then McKay is killed. Now this.
Jennifer stared down at her duffel bag by her feet. Not for the first time she wished she could disappear into the floor and wake up in a week. Or maybe never.
A large, brown hand crossed into her vision and grabbed the duffel bag. She gasped and looked up. Way up. Ronan.
He met her glance with a stoic nod, and Jennifer quickly moved her gaze to the gate. Now she really wanted to disappear.
She didn't want anyone to come. If she were going to fall apart into a sobbing mess—as seemed likely—she wanted to do it alone. Or with her friends back home. Not in front of her strong, brave co-workers at Atlantis. Especially not him.
"You don't have to…" Jennifer swallowed, the words sticking in her throat. "I'm fine."
She felt his gaze on her. "Okay."
Nothing. Great. If Sheppard had put him up to this, he wouldn't be easy to lose. Desperation rose in her throat.
"I mean—won't Amelia be upset if you come with me?" Jennifer clasped her hands in front of her.
"No."
No, she wouldn't be upset? Or no, they were no longer an item? Jennifer knew she'd been walking in a fog ever since—well, ever since the Dedalous—but had she missed a falling out? A flush rose in her cheeks. Not that it was any of her business.
What was she thinking, worrying about his relationship status when her father had just died? Had she lost her mind? Tears threatened again. She had to get rid of him.
"I know you have other things to do," Jennifer said. "More important than baby-sitting me. You can tell Sheppard, I'll be absolutely fine." She said it again, with conviction as if to convince herself. "I'm fine."
Silence. She could feel his eyes on her again.
"You want me to leave?"
Heat rushed into Jennifer's cheeks, and she stuffed her hands into her pockets so she would stop wringing them. It wasn't that—exactly. Why did the man always have to make everything so complicated? Why couldn't he just be a good little caveman and go away? Big caveman. Be a good big caveman and go away.
Sheesh. She really was losing her mind.
The stargate whooshed to life and Jennifer jumped. Ronan brushed past her, her duffel in one hand and his pack over a brawny shoulder. "Let's go."
Oh, terrific. This was going to go great. Jennifer brushed away a tear and hurried after him.