All his fault.

Carson wearily replayed that sentiment in his aching head two hours later as he watched the Daedalus physician from earlier – Dr. Jenkins, he'd finally been informed – point to the results from his CT scan. Or at least tried to watch. Despite the fact he'd finally cleared enough of the disorientation from earlier to provide a skeletal detail of what *might* have happened to him, he found himself painfully squinting at the bright computer images of his brain.

"Based on the limited information you have finally provided, Dr. Beckett, it would appear you have a grade three concussion with a point of impact here." Jenkins pointed to his frontal lobe, and Carson was pleased he could easily identify it. He wasn't too sure he could have a half-hour previous.

"Point of impact? But he said he didn't hit his head. Or did you just not pay attention to that important piece of information?" Carson blinked at the new familiar voice, turning his head slightly to find not only Teyla still at his side, but that Rodney had apparently joined her. He frowned.

"Rodney?" How had he missed his entrance? He wasn't paying enough attention.

"Carson." Rodney gave a curt nod his way. "Like I was saying, he didn't hit his head, so how can your voodoo possibly say that-"

"What Dr. McKay is trying to ask," Teyla interrupted, and Carson was immediately grateful, as he wasn't sure his head could handle the pitch of Rodney's berating tone. "Is how can Dr. Beckett have a concussion when he did not suffer a blow to the head?"

"Yes, well," Jenkins lowered the datapad that displayed the scan. "Concussion is a term that can apply to a general head injury. In this cause it didn't involve a direct physical impact to the head, but Dr. Beckett had indicated that Michael entered his mind and…"

/You're exactly what I need…/

"…we are unsure exactly how Wraith mind-probing effects…"

/Now…let's begin…/

"…there is still evidence of a moderate brain injury. The disorientation, slightly depressed respiration, and elevated heart rate and BP are enough to warrant continued monitoring for a while."

Continued monitoring? Carson blinked at those words, feeling a sudden urge to get up and away. He pulled off the O2 cannula, reached for the blanket across his lap, flung it aside, and pushed himself up with all the energy he could find.

Which only got him as far as tangling his IV line before he found his head back on the pillow and peering up at the concerned faces of Teyla, Rodney, and Jenkins. He sighed in frustration as the room swam slightly around him.

"You need to stay here, Carson," Teyla took him, her hand on his arm. Jenkins reached around her to untangle the IV tubing. Rodney stayed rooted to his spot, looking like he didn't have a clue what to do.

"Um, what she said," Rodney finally ventured before looking back at Jenkins. "Just a concussion?"

Carson heard Jenkins sigh. "As far as our diagnostic tools can tell. I've spoken with the Atlantis infirmary and Dr. Biro wants to get him under the Ancient scanner. It could reveal more. For now, we'll treat the symptoms." He picked up the discarded oxygen line. Carson groaned.

"Don't need that," he managed to mutter. If he was going to stay put, he wanted it gone. Jenkins ignored him.

"We'll treat the symptoms," he repeated. "Which includes the oxygen, Dr. Beckett. You know as well as I do, you're on it for a reason."

"Aye, to annoy me." He tried his very best to peer at the vitals monitor he knew was directly behind him. "Sats are—"

"90," Jenkins interrupted as he finished securing the oxygen and reached for the datapad he'd placed on the edge of the bed. "And that is with the O2." Jenkins punched a few buttons on the datapad. "I don't want to mask any further symptoms but I can give you some acetaminophen for the headache."

"You mean paracetamol," he countered.

Jenkins just shook his head. "Fine, paracetamol, as non-Americans like to call it," he repeated with a sigh. "I can't say I envy your staff when we get into beaming range in about," he glanced at his watch, "ten hours. We'll be doing hourly neuro checks until then. I'll be back in a bit."

The doctor hurried off, leaving only Teyla and Rodney behind. He wondered where Ronon and Colonel Sheppard were, though he supposed the latter was no doubt angry with him. Despite the guilt, Carson was still upset at the fact that John could make a call to kill over one hundred human lives with so little hesitation. And Ronan had agreed.

/It has to be done./

But no such call should have ever had to be made. Carson had hated the idea of using the gas on a hive ship to begin with, despite the good results tests had yielded, but they'd had little option when Michael had reappeared with a hive behind him. The only reason they had a couple hundred Wraiths-turned-humans was because of his experimentation on Michael originally. And Carson hadn't even begun to contemplate Morrison's death, again ultimately a product of his drugging and essentially creating the hybrid Michael was.

Perhaps it was no wonder Colonel Sheppard hadn't stopped by. He sighed softly.

"Where's Colonel Sheppard?" He watched Rodney and Teyla exchange a look.

Teyla gave him a small smile. "He is speaking with Colonel Caldwell and briefing Dr. Weir via radio, I believe. It has not been that long since we arrived on the Daedalus. Ronon was here when you were in the scanner. Do you remember?"

He started to shake his head, and immediately regretted the decision. "No."

"You need rest."

/"A giant, flying barn! We couldn't hit that."/

He ignored her and frowned. "Did we hit the planet?"

"Hit the planet?" Teyla repeated, and she turned to Rodney.

"You fired at it, I thought," Carson expanded, wondering if his mind was still playing tricks on him.

"Oh, that. We did but there is no telling how accurate our fire was," Rodney admitted. "But you were there and conscious at that point. You don't remember that?"

/"There's still over a hundred men down there that believe that we are their saviors."/

"Not really," he lied. "But I remember that there were one hundred people on that planet, Rodney." He needed the facts; tried to convince himself that they would help ease the guilt.

"Were, Carson," Rodney confirmed. "The only life signs the Daedalus could detect were ours in the jumper. So I was either a very good shot or—"

"Michael escaped, taking one hundred innocent people with him as a sacrifice for the other hive," Carson finished. The pain in his head increased greatly at the thought and he reached a hand up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it. Teyla gave him a look of concern, but again he ignored it.

"Well, yes, there is that possibility."

"So either way, all those people are dead." From either an explosion or a Wraith culling, he thought, leaving those words unsaid. His head continued to throb and a nurse suddenly appeared, bearing water and a paper cup with the promised paracetamol in it. Behind her was Ronon, holding a tray.

"They were Wraith, doc. No matter what you turn them into, they are still Wraith." He pushed the tray towards Carson. "I brought you jello. It's green."

Carson wanted to smile at the sentiment, but the sight of the wiggling green substance only made his stomach churn. He tried to push himself up, but the nurse shook her head, put the cups with the pills on in his right hand and the bed control in his left. He gave her a smile of thanks.

"I'll get you some water," she promised, heading a few feet away from his bed.

"Did you notice if they had blue jello?" Rodney asked Ronon as he studied the tray in Ronon's hands hopefully. Ronon just shrugged and pushed the tray back in Carson's direction. He gave Ronon a pained smile and shook his head.

Ronon shrugged again, reached for the fork on the tray, and began eating the jello himself. Carson steered his eyes away from the green blob as the nurse returned with a glass of water. He took the pills, grimacing at the unpleasant way they seemed to sit his stomach. He closed his eyes.

"We should go and let you rest," he heard Teyla say. Part of him wanted to open his eyes and tell her no, but a greater part of him wanted to be left alone. He kept his eyes closed, trying to unsuccessfully let his pounding headache drown out the rest of the thoughts in his head.

/"But you, on the other hand, are trained to have an open mind, and you have a strong sense of empathy toward others."/

He felt a soft hand brush his forehead a moment and the sound of footsteps.

/"It's not as strong as it used to be, believe me."/

He let that thought echo in his mind as he gave into his weariness. When he next blinked his eyes open again, his head was still pounding in time to his heartbeat, Teyla, Rodney, and Ronon were gone, and Jenkins was back, ready to conduct a neurological exam.

As he tried to best to follow Jenkins' finger with his eyes, he briefly wondered if this was the experience that would finally break him.