Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of it's characters. I claim all rights to characters of my creation including but not limited to Marion and Billy.
A/N-Story set-up: This is set in a slightly future universe where nobody is trapped in Wraith ships or missing or presumed dead. Atlantis has the power to make a gate trip back to earth, but just barely and would only use it in a dire emergency. Thus, the Daedalus is still their closest contact with earth.
A/N2 This is my first venture into the Stargate universe. If anybody is interested in being my beta I'd appreciate it.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, it really had. After all the Athosians were official allies now, and had proven themselves capable and willing to defend their new home. To John the next logical step had been to teach them how to do that in the most effective way possible. Rodney would probably have told him that was where the plan had started to go wrong, with the attempt of logical thought.
It had been a sunny day, average temperature, and they'd found a clear field a safe distance from the Athosian's settlement. He'd taken six Marines, and paired them with six Athosians who Teyla had handpicked, four men and two women. They'd covered basic safety, then set up targets at the far end of the clearing and begun practicing. John and Teyla had looked on as the Marines coached their students, both of them proud of their respective people.
He'd turned to say something to her, he couldn't remember what, because a second later it had been lost in blinding pain that radiated out from his thigh and paralyzed the rest of his body. All John remembered was being picked up and carried to the jumper. Then, vaguely, as though they weren't his own, screams as one of the Marines dug his fingers into the wound and pinched the femoral artery shut.
He'd woken up two day later to Elizabeth's sympathy face and known it was bad. Carson tried to tell him he was lucky to still be alive, that with a gunshot wound like that he could have bled to death in as little as seven minutes, but John didn't feel lucky. A year long recovery, that was what he'd finally dragged out of the Scottish doctor, a year long recovery that required physical therapy and still didn't guarantee he'd regain full use of his leg.
In her office Elizabeth tapped her pen against her lip. It was a habit she'd developed in high school. She'd thought she'd broken it, but it had resurfaced early in the Atlantis expedition, and she'd decided she liked the familiarity of it, of knowing no matter where she was, or what she was doing there, that key elements of herself were always the same.
"Dr. Weir?" a hesitant voice broke through her thoughts. The pen stilled and she looked up to see her chief medical doctor standing in the doorway.
"Yes, Carson?" she waved him to the seat in front of her. She'd been expecting this visit ever since John had woken up.
"I just can't provide the kind of care the Colonel will need," he looked at her like he'd rather be saying anything else, "He'll have to be sent back to the states."
"I know Carson," she admitted, "I've known that since you explained the injury to me. I just didn't want to."
"Aye, I didn't want to believe it myself," he replied.
"So, honestly, what do you think the chance of a full recovery is?"
"Well, he's healthy and relatively young, if he does his physical therapy properly I see no reason why they aren't very good."
"How long before he'll need to begin the physical therapy?"
"Well, it'll be 4-12 weeks before he can put any weight on the leg, he'll have to do some exercises to keep the limb from atrophy, and to prevent blood clots in the meantime. I can oversee those, but after that I've not got the knowledge or expertise that's needed."
"We board the Daedalus for the annual briefing in two weeks," she said, thinking out load, "Another eighteen days to earth, that puts it at approximately five weeks, will that be acceptable?"
"I'd like to get him to a specialist as soon as possible," Carson frowned, "but it's not worth the power required to gate back to earth. I don't see much of a choice really."
"No, I suppose not," Elizabeth replied. She began to unconsciously tap the pen again. "Thank-you Carson. I'll be in to speak with Colonel Sheppard soon"
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Marion tapped her pen against her lip, lost in thought. The monthly expenditure list for the shelter was sitting in front of her, and it was going to put them several thousand dollars in the red if she didn't come up with something. Though the shelter had been open for three years it had just started to gain a reputation and they'd had five women, four who had children, arrive in the last two months, a new record, and a huge strain on the budget. Her start-up money from her aunt had long ago dried up and they now depended on government grants and donations. A little money came from Billy's horse training, but not nearly enough to keep them afloat.
She jumped as somebody tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up into the smirking face of Billy Henderson, her right hand at the shelter, who obviously thought it was hilarious that she'd completely missed the fact that a telephone had been ringing just across the room
"It's your aunt," he told her as she snatched it from his hand.
"Oh my God, Aunt 'Lizabeth!" she exclaimed as she recognized the voice on the other end, her irritation with Billy completely forgotten.
"Surprise," Elizabeth laughed. She'd always been particularly fond of Marion, and it was nice to know somebody was so happy to get a phone call from her.
"Where are you?" Marion demanded. She'd gotten a couple of tapes from her aunt in the last few years, sent a few of her own back, but had not had direct contact.
"Colorado. I'm in town for a week."
"A week?" Marion couldn't help but whine, "That's not very long. Am I even going to get to see you?"
"Actually that's why I called. I have a favor to ask.
"Anything," the answer came without thought.
Elizabeth chuckled. "You may come to regret that."
Marion frowned a little at her aunt's tone, but didn't hesitate. "So I'll regret it."
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Elizabeth looked around the hotel room she'd rented in Colorado Springs. She'd convinced General Landry that after three days of briefings there was no reason for her to remain on base for the rest of her minimal leave. She had a special issue cell phone in case of emergency, but that was it.
John lay on the bed idly flipping through channels. He'd left his room claiming restlessness a half-hour before. She wasn't sure how watching TV in her room was any different than watching TV in his own since he didn't seem all that interested in conversation, but she'd just left him to it. The last month had become increasingly awkward. She'd kept trying to assure him that there would still be a place for him in Atlantis once he returned to active duty, but he remained apathetic. Elizabeth was almost relieved when she heard a knock at her door.
