A/N: I wrote this tag a quite a few months ago, and I'd like to think that my writing style has improved a good bit since then. :P However, since this was just sitting on my computer, I decided to throw it up on here. Enjoy!
Disclamer: I own none of the Stargate franchise. Shame, though, 'cuz I'd really like a puddlejumper. ;)
Night Phantoms
"You shot me!" Rodney whined for the millionth time that night.
An aggravated sigh was heard from the other side of the cave. "Come on, McKay! It's almost midnight, would you give it a rest?" John asked in a petulant voice.
"Not until it stops hurting. I can't believe you actually shot me!"
A rustling sound came from Sheppard's sleeping bag.
"What are you doing?" McKay asked.
"I'm gonna go see if Carson has any more morphine, just so you'll shut up!" John snapped, then mumbled something else under his breath.
"What was that?" Rodney asked.
"Nothing," John grumbled.
"Mmm," Rodney said, less than convinced. "Well, I wouldn't be so annoying if the Daedalus hadn't been delayed," he said defensively.
"Oh, and that's my fault now?" John retorted as he rummaged through Carson's medical bag.
"No, but you shooting me is!"
Sheppard huffed and rolled his eyes, renewing his search efforts.
Suddenly he stopped, as though listening for something.
"What?" McKay asked.
"Did you hear that?" Sheppard asked him.
"Hear what?"
"Sounded like . . ." he trailed off and crawled over to check on Teyla.
"Teyla?" he asked worriedly.
She looked awful. Her face was pale except for two bright red feverish patches on her cheeks, and her face was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her brow was knitted in consternation or pain, or both. As she tossed her head back and forth in her sleep, she moved her leg again, eliciting another groan of discomfort.
"John," she mumbled in her sleep, "John, listen to me--"
"Carson!" John yelled, reaching over to shake the sleeping man. "Wake up!"
The doctor sat up, squinting to compensate for his bleary vision. "What? What's wrong?" he asked sleepily.
"Something's wrong with Teyla," John said concernedly.
This instantly put the doctor on alert. Shaking the fogginess from his brain, he moved over and knelt at Teyla's side, putting a hand on her shoulder and shaking it gently. "Teyla," he said. "Teyla, can you hear me love?"
Her eyes remained tightly shut. "John," she said again. "Please--"
Carson lifted the field dressing on her leg, and grimaced at the sight of the wound. There was a large, red, inflamed area surrounding the bullet hole, which was still bleeding slightly and beginning to ooze pus.
"The wound's gotten infected," he said. "I was afraid of this. The bullet probably caught a piece of her pants fabric, and since we haven't gotten either out they're festering and causing a nasty infection."
By this time Ronon had woken, and joined in. "How come McKay isn't having the same problem?" he asked.
"His shot was a through-and-through, given the close range of the weapon whatever cloth may have been caught by the bullet was shot straight out," Beckett replied distractedly as he rummaged around in his medical bag. He took out a syringe of something, inserted the needle into Teyla's arm and depressed the plunger.
"What was that?" John asked.
"Antibiotics and pain medication. Nothing much, but a bit to take the edge off," Carson said. "Hopefully, the antibiotics will keep the infection down until the Daedalus gets here."
"What about the hallucinations?" John asked.
Carson sighed. "She's lost a lot of blood, and what we've been through is enough to give anybody nightmares," he said. "They're most likely not hallucinations. She's probably just dreaming."
John nodded, and Carson continued. "That was the only syringe of the antibiotic mixture I had left, and I only have one more of morphine," he said. "Hopefully that will be enough. There's really not much I can do until Daedalus comes." He gave John a sympathetic glance, then turned and went to check on Rodney.
John sat down on the ground next to Teyla and took her hand, rubbing his thumb across it comfortingly. She looked so pale and small, an almost frightening change from the woman who normally could have him flat on his back whenever she pleased. He leaned back against the wall. It was going to be a long night.
--
John checked the luminescent dial of his watch yet again. 03:00. He sighed, stretched his sore back muscles and glanced around the cave. Carson and Rodney had nodded off, and Ronon looked like he would at any moment. He almost felt like taking the man's blaster and stunning him. It was so aggravating to see his head alternately sag, then jerk up, sag, then jerk again . . . stupid watchdog complex. It was worse than Chinese water torture. He sighed again, looking at Teyla. She had gotten a little paler, but the hand he was holding was burning up. The antibiotics must have worn off. He was about to go get Carson when she began to toss in her sleep again.
"John, no! Rodney—" she cried, her face once more pained. "you can't die, not after Ronon . . ."
John's brow knitted. Ronon? Oh, no, had he killed Ronon in her dream? She continued to speak, though now quieter, almost brokenheartedly. "He can't be dead, no . . .why wasn't I faster?" John's heart twisted. Oh great, now he had killed Ronon and Rodney. He may have, though, if Teyla hadn't knocked his aim askew. He quickly thought of something else.
"Shh, it's alright, we're safe," he said in an attempt to comfort her. Instead of calming down, she started to toss even more.
"Doc!" John shouted, attempting to hold her still.
Carson immediately woke and crawled over to them. "What is it?" he asked
"She was having a bad dream and started to thrash around," John said. "I don't know what's wrong."
Carson lifted the bandage on her leg, concern coming to his eyes. "The infection's getting worse," he said worriedly. "we need to get her to the Daedalu--"
Before he could even finish his sentence, they were all enveloped in the bright white light of the Asgard transporter beam, depositing them conveniently in the infirmary. Carson took no time to get his bearings and was soon barking out orders about the wounded. He shooed John out of the room even before Caldwell could welcome them aboard.
Sheppard's radio crackled to life in his ear. "This is Colonel Caldwell. I trust you're all here in one piece?"
"More or less, sir," John replied. "Nice timing," he added.
Caldwell seemed slightly confused. "I wasn't aware that there was any hurry," he stated. "Did something change?"
"Teyla developed a nasty infection on the planet, and Carson didn't have the supplies to take care of it down there," John explained. "It was just starting to get worse when you arrived."
"Well, I'm glad I didn't come any later then," Caldwell replied. "Keep me apprised."
"I will sir," John said.
--
A few hours later, John was sitting in the mess hall, sipping a cup of very black coffee. His mind, however, was still very much preoccupied with Teyla. She had gotten out of surgery a couple hours ago. The bullet and all surrounding fabric had been removed, the infection was getting better, and her fever had dropped considerably. Despite the good news, John was still worried about all they had gone through on that blasted planet. They had lost a lot of men down there, and nearly lost more. He got up from the table, deposited his empty mug in the dirty dish receptacle and headed for the infirmary.
--
The infirmary lights were dimmed, but he could see that only two beds were occupied, one by McKay and the other by Teyla. They were both hooked up to I.V.'s and seemed to be fast asleep. He walked over to Teyla's bed and looking down at her. She looked a lot less pale than before, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. There was a stray piece of hair over her eyes, and he gently brushed it away.
"I'm sorry, Teyla," he said quietly. "I wish I had been able to take better care of you. I don't know for sure what happened down there, but it couldn't have been easy. I should have been strong enough resist that device, or I don't know, something," he said, scrubbing his hair in frustration. "Anyway, I'm just really, really sorry I wasn't able to help you more." He looked down at her for a second, then turned and started to leave the infirmary.
"John, wait," Teyla said.
John's head whipped around to see Teyla looking at him from the bed, smiling a bit at his astonished expression. "Wha—you—I thought you were asleep!" he said indignantly.
"I was, until you came," she said.
John looked slightly uncomfortable. "So you heard everything I said?" he asked.
"Yes."
He looked even more awkward, so she hastily continued. "John, I don't blame you for what happened on the planet. The wraith who built the device are the only ones I hold at fault. You did everything you could."
John looked relieved, and walked over to sit on the foot of her bed. "So . . . you feeling better?" he asked.
"Much," Teyla replied. "And you? No more hallucinations?"
"Thankfully, no," came the genuine reply.
"That is good to hear," Teyla responded.
A short but companionable silence fell between them.
"You know," Teyla said, "in a way, Major Leonard saved you some trouble by shooting me."
John looked startled. "What do you mean?"
A teasing grin came across Teyla's face. "You cared for my wound because you thought I was an injured comrade, which, in turn, caused me to be the sole member of your team that you did not shoot."
John inhaled deeply and shot her an exasperated look "Oh, now don't you start . . ." he said warningly.
"Start what?" Teyla asked innocently.
With a knowing look, the colonel got up off her bed and started toward the exit. "I think I should go, since you obviously need your sleep," he said as he pressed a button to open the door.
"But John--"
"Ah!" Sheppard cut her off with an upraised finger. "No 'buts'," he said. He stepped into the doorway then turned back to her with a slight grin. "G'night, Teyla."
Teyla gave a resigned sigh, then returned the smile. "Good night, John."
The door whooshed shut behind the colonel, leaving the infirmary once more in darkness. Teyla settled into the pillows and closed her eyes. It was good to be back.
The End