Teyla and Ronon were treated and released but refused to leave. McKay uncharacteristically insisted he was fine even as his blood dripped on the floor and it took all of Weir's authority to get him to submit to an examination by a nurse, who recommended stitches and wrapped his arm instead when he declined treatment. Not even she could make McKay sit down through the long hours while Beckett operated on Sheppard. Ronon and Teyla sat quietly with Weir while McKay paced and paced and paced. It was only when he became lightheaded with hunger and blood loss that he finally agreed to stop and eat a Powerbar. Then Beckett came out, his face weary with sadness, and they all stood together to hear the prognosis.
"I wish I had good news," the gentle Scottish doctor began. He sat down with a sigh and they gathered around him. "The colonel was shot in the head. Now I've removed the bullet, and part of his skull as well until the swelling goes down…"
"But…" prompted Weir.
"But there's brain damage. We won't know how bad it is until he wakes up. If he wakes up. His condition is extremely critical and truthfully…" Beckett took in the anxious faces and his voice faltered. "I'm surprised he's made it this far. I have him in a medically induced coma to reduce the stress on his brain, and if he makes it through the next twenty-four hours, I'll have a better idea what his chances are."
"I'm staying with him," said McKay flatly.
"As are we." Teyla's voice was soft but firm and Ronon nodded.
"You're all daft." Beckett rubbed his eyes. "Did you not hear me say the man's in a coma? He won't know you're there." The team regarded him stonily and he sighed. "Aye, well, I knew that's what you'd say. Go ahead, then, but don't touch him. Just sit with him if you must. And keep your voices down." He frowned at McKay. "I'll have a look at that arm now."
"In a minute, Carson." The scientist was already walking away, followed by his teammates, and Beckett sighed.
"It's always the same. Whenever something happens to one of them, they all have to be in there."
Weir smiled with affection. "I can't imagine four people more different. Who would have thought they'd get so close?" Now she was the one who faltered as she thought of the team gathered around their leader, willing him to live, and she asked softly, "Are you sure there's brain damage?"
"No doubt about that, I'm afraid." Becket got to his feet. "He won't be the John Sheppard we knew, but let's not borrow trouble, Elizabeth. The brain has an amazing capacity for healing. Let's just wait and see how it goes.
