A/N: Massive spoiler for the episode "Sunday."

As always, many thanks to ladygris for reading over this chapter though her fav character dies.

Namaste,

~Sandy

Broken Mirror

Chapter One

Ringing bells awakened him from an uneasy sleep. No, that was wrong. There were no bells. They were in his head, or rather his ears. He concentrated and bit by bit the ringing faded away until he could hear voices. Sort of. They sounded like they were talking under water at first. Eventually, he could distinguish individual tones, one tentative, the other strong and confident yet tinged with anxiety.

"The good news is he may need only a few skin grafts."

Keller.

"And the bad news?"

Elizabeth.

The voices moved away and he could no longer hear what they were saying. Or maybe they hadn't moved and something was wrong with his hearing. But that couldn't be right because he could hear other things. The beeping of the heart monitor, the soft susurrations of the oxygen being pushed into his lungs through the nasal cannula, footsteps. The heavy tread of men and the lighter ones of women all wearing rubber soled footwear. And breathing. His and someone else's. Several someone elses.

His sense of touch returned slowly and he realized he was on his right side covered with crisp cotton sheets that were touching him yet not, held away from his body by being draped over the rails. Moving his left hand just enough to touch his chest he encountered no scrubs or gown. Most of the hair on his chest was gone, replaced by bandages and rough skin that stung when he touched it. He also felt the heart monitor and an elastic bandage around his ribs.

Struggling to remember what had happened that would've put him here in this condition made him none the wiser because the drugs going into the I.V. in his right hand were making his mind fuzzy. Morphine.

He tried to roll onto his back and was prevented from doing so by a stack of pillows. When he reached back to move them, pain shot up and down his left side and the muscles in his back contracted, objecting to the abuse. Gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, he finally opened his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he was confused when blackness greeted him. Is the power out? No. The computer's being used.

Moving slower this time, he brought his hand up to find the upper half of his face also covered in bandages. Feeling around, he encountered the edges of the gauze secured with paper tape and the EEG leads affixed to his temples. Touching the skin around the bandages, he again hissed in pain, the areas feeling as if he'd been badly sunburned. Continuing around to the side, he felt the bumps of blisters and the short rough hairs on the side of his head where the hair had been cut.

Moving up to the top of his head, he breathed a small sigh of relief that most of his hair was intact except for a few missing patches that were tender. His questing fingers found a lump on the side of his head. As if that were the impetus he needed, his memory came flooding back.

He saw himself, still in his dark blue golf shirt and chinos, surging with hope when Rodney tells him he broke Carson's lockout code. Running out the door, he hit the override to keep Ronon from following. Taking the stairs three at a time, he rushed to get to Carson before the tumor he'd removed from James Watson exploded. What he'd do when he got there, he had no idea, but he had to try.

Up ahead he heard the creak of the wheels as the blast containment receptacle was maneuvered out of the lift.

"We just made the handoff."

Hearing Carson's voice in his headset as well as his uncovered ear told him he was close, just a few more meters and… He reached the corner just as an explosion pushed at him. Instinctively he raised his left arm to protect his face, but he'd still been facing into it when the white hot light surged overloading his vision. The concussive force lifted him into the air and slammed him against a wall.

In his mind, he saw himself fall though he had to have been unconscious when he hit the floor. Hot debris cascaded down, some of it landing on him, burning his clothes, hair and skin. Those areas throbbed as his memory reminded him of the events that put him where he was now.

Sonofa*****! Why'd you have to…

The sound of feet whispering over the floor of the Infirmary stopped his thoughts in their tracks for the moment. "Hello? Anyone there?"

~~O~~

Jennifer and Elizabeth conferred in quiet tones as the medical doctor gave her prognosis for John's recovery. "He has first, second and third degree burns on the left side of his body from his hip to the underside of his arm as well as on his scalp and back. His back isn't broken, thank God, but he does have a few bruised ribs on the right side. The concussion isn't as bad as I thought it would be considering how hard he hit the wall."

"What about…"

"Dr. Keller! He's awake!"

Marie's voice interrupted the two women, both of them rushing to John's bedside, Elizabeth crossing her arms. "John, can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can hear you, Elizabeth." He grunted in pain when he tried to roll onto his back again. "What the hell's goin' on?"

Jennifer glanced at the VS monitor then back to John's face. Even knowing he couldn't see her, she kept her doctor's mask firmly in place. She didn't know John well, but she'd been around the military enough to know not to show fear or let it be heard in her voice. "You were injured in an explosion, Colonel."

"I got that." His voice was slightly raspy from the breathing tube he'd had for a short time. "How long?"

"You've been out for three days." She gave him a quick rundown of his injuries, ending with, "…the blindness was caused by oversaturation of the retinal pigment as well as corneal scarring."

"But I'll be able to see again, right?"

Jennifer hesitated. "It's possible that the tissue will heal on its own. But it may not. We won't know for a couple of weeks." He seemed to accept the vagueness of the prognosis though she knew better.

"Where's Beckett? How badly is he hurt?"

Just for a moment she let the anguish in then pushed it away willing herself not to cry. "I'm sorry, Colonel. Dr. Beckett didn't make it. Nor did Captain Wilkerson."

John was silent so long she thought he wasn't going to speak. When he did, his voice was quiet as he hid the grief Jennifer knew he must be feeling. He grasped the top bar of the safety rail pulling himself up onto his right elbow. "Where's the body? Take me to him. I want to see for myself." The women didn't respond immediately. "Doc? Elizabeth?"

"I…" Jennifer couldn't continue.

Elizabeth looked at the floor reluctant to voice the truth but knew it had to be told. "There's nothing left, John. Not of Carson or Captain Wilkerson. The explosion was stronger than the one that killed Hewston and injured Teyla. Rodney's team is checking for structural damage and beginning repairs on the corridor as we speak."

The shock on John's face as he slowly lay down again was painful to watch. He'd never been one to let his stronger emotions show and seeing it now… Jennifer took his hand to show him the call button. "We're gonna let you rest. Just call if you need something." John didn't respond as Jennifer pulled the privacy certain around his bed. She gave Marie a few whispered instructions, exchanged a glance with Elizabeth then went to her office while Elizabeth strode purposefully from the Infirmary.

~~O~~

From her bed, Teyla listened to Elizabeth telling John that Carson had been killed. She rolled over onto her right side allowing silent tears to wet the pillow. Footsteps neared and she closed her eyes pretending to be asleep. The nurse adjusted the I.V., lifted the edge of her scrub top to check the bandages, tapped information into the bedside monitor and left again.

Reaching through the bars, she took a tissue from the box and used it to wipe the tears from her eyes. A futile gesture as they were immediately replaced by more. She thought about how empty she felt knowing that Carson would no longer be a part of her life going forward. Coming to the Infirmary would be difficult knowing he wouldn't be here with his gentle smile and lilting accent.

~~O~~

In her office again, Elizabeth powered up her workstation and began composing the speeches she'd give at the memorial services. While most of her mind was focused on the loss of her friend, as the leader of the expedition, she knew she had to say something about Lenny Wilkerson as well. He hadn't been on Atlantis long so she didn't know him well except what she read in his file. With his pristine military record and the amount of knowledge of explosives he possessed, he'd been at the top of the list to replace Cadman when she rotated back to Earth.

She'd run into him in the Mess Hall a few times and they'd talked about life in Pegasus and the possibility of him training as a backup for offworld missions. And in those times, she'd found him to be quite intelligent, pleasant to talk to and a little more knowledgeable about art than average. He didn't paint like Major Lorne or create jewelry that were works of art in themselves like Aylanna, or even tap dance like his predecessor though he did have an eye for beauty as well as whimsy. He always had a smile for everyone, except Kavanagh, and she didn't blame him there.

At one time he'd been married but his wife had passed away from cancer a few months after their wedding. Though she'd seen him talking to some of the single women on the base, he didn't seem to be interested in anything more than friendship.

But Lenny did deserve to be remembered and she would do him justice at his service.

When she could put it off no longer, Elizabeth opened a new document and sat there, fingers resting on the keys but not moving, her eyes focused on a spot nearly three years in the past to the day she'd met then-Major John Sheppard. With a wry grin, she recalled how Carson had nearly blown up the chopper in which John and General O'Neill had been flying.

The Ancient equipment and weapons used not only the ATA gene but a mental component as well, and Carson had been frightened of the fact that he'd had the strongest gene on the base. At least until John had come along. It had been that fear that had sent the drone out into the cold morning sky though Carson had managed to calm down enough to shut it off before anyone had gotten hurt.

And the look on Carson's face when Rodney, in the process of changing into a super-evolved human, had used the medical doctor to demonstrate his ability to levitate objects nearly made her laugh out loud.

Instead of writing an epitaph for her friend, Elizabeth opened the staff files for medical, tabbing through several before she came to the one she wanted. Jennifer Keller had been acting as Carson's unofficial second-in-command since her arrival several months ago. She was young though she did have all the qualities that the chief medical officer needed. Her surgical skills had been proven time and time again as well as her diagnostics expertise. And she wasn't arrogant about her abilities like many doctors. When it came down to it, Elizabeth knew she would stand by her principles and not let anyone push her around.

Working had done for her what running did for John. It helped keep her from laying her head on the desk and crying until she couldn't cry anymore. Mike Branton had come by with the offer of coffee and talk. She'd politely yet firmly declined and he'd been understanding. Too understanding.

Afraid she'd hurt his feelings, that she was avoiding him after their date and the sweet kisses they'd shared, Elizabeth shut down her computer and slipped into her jacket. She felt like talking now, and knew just where to find him.

~~O~~

"Rodney?"

"Yeah?" The physicist looked up when Radek called his name. From the look on his face, the Czech had called him several times before he'd responded. "What?"

His eyes filled with sympathy, Radek touched Rodney on the arm. "Are you alright?"

"Why?" Rodney's voice was soft lacking the usual power and arrogance, his features without the scowl he put on with his clothes in the morning and took off at night.

"You've been staring at your tablet for ten minutes." Gently but firmly, Radek pulled the computer from his friend's hands. "Leave this to us and go rest."

"Uh…okay. Call me if…" He didn't finish his thought. Just turned and walked away from the charred walls, floors and ceiling of the corridor where his best friend had been killed a few days before. Not watching where he was going, Rodney ended up at Carson's quarters. In front of the door stood Ronon, his arms crossed and his scowl in place.

The two friends shared a glance, Rodney looking away when his eyes began to sting with unshed tears. Without a word, he chose another corridor and kept walking until he reached the door leading to the East pier. The Daedalus wasn't due for at least a week so it was safe to linger.

He moved over to the spot that Carson loved the best, especially at sunset. From here, the sun fell straight down as if disappearing into the water where it would rest until morning, bursting into the sky from the other side of the world. Sunset was his favorite because it meant that they'd all survived another day of battling the Wraith, Asurans, Genii, rogue Asgard, and whatever else might be out there.

Guilt surrounded Rodney, making him sway with the breeze. "I'm sorry, Carson. I should've…" The wind picked up a little bringing with it a light mist and the tang of salt water.

No worries, Rodney. Tell Mum my last thoughts were of her.

"I will."

~~O~~

In the Satedan tradition, Ronon stood guard over Carson's home to prevent looting. Not much of a problem here in Atlantis, but he knew of no other way to honor his friend. Later, he'd mourn in private, but this time was about honoring the dead and here he would stand for another seven hours. And when the memorial ended, he and Carson's other friends would carry him home to his family.

It mattered not that there wasn't a body as long as the Beckett family had something of his to see and touch. As nothing remained of his body, they would have to be content with possessions. Ronon had already chosen the items he would take for Carson's family. One for each of his six older sisters and one for his mother. Something cherished by the man who'd been a great doctor and an even better friend.

~~O~~

When he was alone again, John let the worst of the memories wash over him. Memories and the bright light of guilt that he hadn't been able to save Carson.

His friend had been consumed by fire so hot that nothing of his physical body had survived. When his coffin was carried home to be buried in the family plot, it would be empty. His mother and sisters would not be able to have a final glimpse of the man they loved. No closure. No good-byes. Nothing. Just white satin that would never bear the imprint of a body lying in repose, and a small pillow upon which no head would lay.

And while the bandages hid the evidence, John wept.

TBC