McKay had already started working on the Gate long before John woke up. He opened his eyes to the sound of Ronon's gruff voice carrying a warning to McKay, who had apparently began to whine about his lack of coffee. John smirked and sat forward, only to fall back dizzily into the seat. He blinked his eyes a few times, shaking his head against the spinning sensation in his mind. His stomach threatened to empty itself over the console in front of him and he bit back hard to avoid the embarrassing occurrence. Feeling strange and nauseous, it felt as if his body had been shaken and kicked around a football pitch, every muscle seeming to burn and ache. He wondered if it had been such a good idea to eat Canor's less than delightful soup as he was sure that was the reason for his current condition.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked into the worried eyes of Teyla, his stomach finally settling.
"We did not wish to disturb you since you did not appear to sleep well last night," she said. "You were shaking a moment ago, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered as got to his feet quickly. "And I slept fine." He grunted, slipping back into his regimented I'm-OK demeanor that he tried to keep at all times. Teyla smiled back, obviously not convinced, but she told him that breakfast was ready and they both headed outside.
"I see Rodney got the door open again." he said as he walked through the hatch, hoping that come nightfall, if they were still here, Rodney would be able to close it again.
Teyla informed him that Thedila and Canor had been gone from early light to fetch fresh water from the stream and hunt for food for lunch time. He noted that the bodies of the two Moha they had killed the night before were gone, probably scavenged during the night by the other members of the pack.
Standing on the yellow grass and breathing in the fresh air of the day, he noticed that the light of the sun seemed to throw a strange colour over everything, something that he had not seen before. He rubbed his eyes hard as the strange light began to make them ache and his head hurt.
Deciding to go grab his sunglasses, he turned to go back inside the Jumper but stopped just before the open hatch and gasped, his eyes wide open despite the pain the light burned into them.
Teyla was quickly at his side, alert and looking around with her gun raised.
"What is it, John?"
"Look at that sky," he whispered. "Those colors, that...what is that?" He said, pointing at the blue sky.
"It is a cloud." Teyla replied, her voice laced with concern.
"Wow, never seen one like that before." He laughed as he walked into the rear of the Jumper, leaving Teyla with a small bemused smile on her face.
He located his sunglasses next to the pilot seat, on the floor. As he bent over to get them, his stomach lurched and he felt as if he might fall when his legs suddenly began to feel unable to hold him up. Steadying himself on the seat, he took a few deep breaths, then straightened. The feeling passed and he walked back outside, masking his face with a look of easiness that he did not feel. If he ever came back to spend a day with Canor, he would be bringing his own food with him.
Teyla stirred the pot over the fire as John returned and took a seat on the ground, with shades and a grin on his face. Ronon and McKay were arguing; well, McKay was talking loudly as he examined the damaged gate, while Ronon stared murderously back at him.
"I don't care what you say, cave boy. I have, in fact, gone over that sequence, twice. So unless you have anything important to add to this more than stirring, one-sided conversation, I suggest that you stop interrupting me and let me work on the next sequence!" McKay said as he continued to work with shattered crystals and reams of broken wires.
Ronon stood there for a minute more, obviously deliberating over whether he should hit McKay or just leave him. John was relieved when he saw the man shake his head and walk away from the irritated scientist, leaving McKay talking to himself while he worked. Ronon joined John and Teyla for breakfast, his face a cloud of anger, but he softened a little when Teyla handed him a bowl of hot oats and a mug of milk. While they ate, they listened to McKay rambling away, obviously annoyed at his lack of progress in fixing the gate.
"How's the leg?" Ronon asked in his usual gruff tone.
"Actually, it's fine. Forgot about it to be honest," John lied, his leg having been painful since he had woken. It burned intensely around the area of the scratch, but he would not mention it. It was such a trivial wound as to complain over.
"John was saying how beautiful the sky is," Teyla said with a small strange smile to Ronon.
"Yeah?" Ronon sniggered.
"Sure, go ahead and laugh." John muttered, embarrassed, wondering why the others did not find it unusual.
He looked again at the sky, raising his eyes behind the cover of his sunglasses so the others did not notice. Even behind his shades the colours were so bright and so...wrong.
The sky itself was orange with streaks of blue, and so bright as to sear the back of his eyes in burning pain even through the dark glasses. The large, lazy clouds made him uneasy, scared even. Blood red in colour, they moved ominously across the sky as if an omen for dark future events.
As he brought his eyes back down to his food, he felt queasy and a little light-headed. He placed his bowl on the ground in front of him as a violent shiver ran through his body. He swallowed hard when his stomach churned, wishing that it would settle down before the others noticed he was unwell. But his stomach heaved in rebellion against the food that he had just eaten and he got to his feet and ran as fast as his strangely weak legs could handle. He barely made it to the tree line before emptying the contents of his stomach into the tall grass. Hunched over, his hands on his knees to steady himself, he breathed long, wavering breaths to try and gain some control over his body. When he knew his stomach had finished having its voiding tantrum, he straightened up and wiped his mouth.
John was mortified as he walked shakily back towards the camp. Though they did not say anything, Ronon and Teyla eyed him in concern, but he ignored them and sat back down, taking a drink of water from his flask to clean the sour taste of vomit from his mouth.
"Canor's soup, I bet." he murmured in response to their stares.
He lay back on the grass and placed his hands behind his head, hoping to convince the others that it was just a dodgy stomach, nothing more. But he felt it was more than that, now. He still felt ill, still felt as if his body was trying to tell him something.
Eventually, the queasiness left him and his stomach settled, allowing him to laze on the ground in the warm air. Ronon eventually drifted off for a walk, but he eyed John as he left, as if knowing he was hiding something.
Teyla emptied the last of the oats into a bowl while surreptitiously watching John, seeing that his breathing was slowing down into a rhythmic pace. A soft purring snore started moments later, showing he had fallen asleep, stretched out on his back without a care in the world.
She forgot about the oats and simply sat there, puzzled as to what ailed John Sheppard. This did not seem like any food poisoning she had ever seen before. When she had entered the Jumper earlier to check on him, she had been convinced that John was recovering from some sort of seizure. She had seen enough of them in her time to recognise someone in the recovery phase, given that they had been a common symptom of Bunna fever on Athos when she was younger.
Still, at least he seemed to be better now, perhaps the stomach voiding had emptied his body of whatever it was that had made him sick.
Teyla jumped as a voice sounded close behind her and she turned to shoot an annoyed look at Rodney.
"Is there anything left? I'm starved." he asked while reaching over and lifting a spoon, eyeing the remainder of the hot oats like a hungry hyena. She handed him what was remained and began to clear her plate away.
"What's with Fly Boy?" he said between mouthfuls of oats, his head jerking to point at John's sleeping form.
"I'm not sure, he seems to think that Canor's soup may have soured his stomach."
"What? That stuff was amazing! Like a combination of aniseed and blackcurrant. A very clever, yet, simple dish." He did everything but lick the bowl, and Teyla was sure that if she had not been there, he probably would have.
Teyla smiled at him. "Yes, well perhaps there was something in it that simply disagreed with John."
"Huh. And yet I have seen him eat some pretty nasty things on some planets that never even fazed him. Anyhoo, time to get back to work!" Rodney went back to the Gate, leaving Teyla to think about what he had said.
She looked back at John, noticing a movement in his left shoulder. She realised is was more than a movement, it was a steady pulsing that was making his arm jerk back and forth. Had she not witnessed what she had earlier, she may have put it down to a strained muscle cramping, or some minor injury from the crash. But considering she had seen the way he had woken in the Jumper, her instinct was that something far worse was happening to John.
She was deep in thought when Ronon returned from his walk. He was practically leaning over her before she became aware of his presence. He sat down and stretched out his limbs, then reached for a drink from his flask.
"What you thinking about?" he said as he placed the cap back on his flask and laid it down.
"Just John. I wonder if he is more sick than he letting on."
"Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing," he agreed. "So what do we do?"
"What do we do about what?" came John's tired drawl from across the way. He yawned and stretched lazily, waiting on an answer.
"Nothing to concern yourself with, John. How are you feeling now?" Teyla asked, looking from him to Ronon, who shrugged back at her.
"I told you, I'm fine," John said as he slowly sat up, adjusting his sunglasses. "McKay any further forward with the repairs?"
"Not really, no. But he seems quite optimistic." Teyla replied.
"An optimistic Rodney McKay. You are kiddin' right?" John smirked as he got to his feet.
He stretched his arms above his head, making sure that neither Teyla nor Ronon saw how painful the movement actually was. Walking slowly, and to his relief steadily, he decided to check up on what McKay was doing as he knew that Teyla was about to ask him more about how he was feeling. Since he did not really know how he felt, he thought it better if she did not have the chance to ask.
Rodney spun around when he heard John approaching, and the smile he had for him froze on his face.
"Uh, you feeling OK?" he asked concerned.
John sighed, irritated. "For the love of...yeah, I'm fine!"
Rodney looked as if he wanted to say something more but was fighting internally with himself as to whether he would.
"Spit it out, McKay." John said, adding that inflection to Rodney's name that he always did when he was annoyed with him.
"You just don't look so good," he said meekly.
John just stared at him, making Rodney turn away to stare at the gaping hole in the side of the Gate.
"I'm making some progress," Rodney tried to shrug the awkwardness of the moment. "But it is going to take a while, yet."
"How long?"
"What? How the hell should I know! How long would it take you to run to Nasheta on a treadmill? Huh? I've got...John?"
He was seeing Rodney through a red haze and his head suddenly felt like it was full of tiny screaming robots that screeched in a high pitched tone while they continually smashed into the insides of his skull. He watched as Rodney grabbed his shoulders and wondered why he was doing so. Rodney was speaking but he could not hear what he was saying due to the noise that screamed in his head.
John took a staggering step away from him, the fear swelling within him fueled by the look of horror on McKay's face. He was vaguely aware of Ronon appearing next to him, then Teyla's soft and caring face looming before him, mouth moving silently. Waves of hot and cold were running up and down his body making him shiver in the warm air. He noted Teyla speaking, but still he could not hear any words. His eyes began to twitch back and forth, his heart sped up so much that it felt as if it was going to explode through his chest. John's eyes rolled up in his head and all he could see was that damned light that burned. His legs became suddenly unable to support him and he fell to the ground with a thud.
There was a moment of blackness from which he emerged slowly, painfully. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been over worked in hard exercise, throbbing and cramping. Opening his eyes, he quickly squeezed them shut with a short moan of pain as the strange light from the sky assaulted his retinas. He tried to cover them as uncontrolled noises of pain escaped his lips. His sunglasses had been knocked off when he had fallen and he reached to find them, only to have Teyla place them on his face again. The relief was instant and he sighed as the pain in his eyes eased.
"John?"
He shook his head and sat up with some help from Ronon who brooded quietly at his side.
"I'm OK," he said unconvincingly, his voice shaking ever so slightly. "Just not feeling too well."
Teyla was about to say something when John got back onto his feet.
"I'm fine. I think Canor's soup is as bad for my insides as it was for my taste buds." He grimaced as sourness filled his mouth, his face blanching at the taste.
"John, I think you should sit back down." she said, but he ignored her and began to walk.
John had only taken three steps forward before beginning to stagger, his legs refusing to obey his commands. He took a deep breath and started again, ignoring the concerned looks of the others.
His eyes blurred, as fresh waves of hot and cold moved up and down his body that were so intense, it was being physically hit with boiling and freezing water. He took another few wobbly steps before pitching forward, but he didn't hit the ground this time as Ronon grabbed his shoulders to steady him.
"What's up, buddy?" Ronon asked, noticing that John's eyes were pretty much vacant.
"I..." John's eyes rolled again and his legs collapsed beneath him as he blacked out. Ronon caught him and lay him down, watching as John's body twisted and bucked on the soft ground. He looked up at Teyla for some idea of what to do but she stood there aghast, momentarily frozen with her hand covering her mouth.
"What...what's wrong with him?" McKay stuttered.
Teyla unfroze as John's body stilled, checking his neck for his pulse.
"I don't know, Rodney, I think he is having seizures." she replied distractedly.
"Seizures, plural?" Rodney's voice raised as he spoke, clearly anxious. "But...when did this start?"
"I'm pretty sure he had one before he woke up earlier this morning, and he seems to have just suffered another." She looked to Ronon. "Help me get him back into the Jumper."
The big Satedan lifted John as easily as a child and carried him into the Jumper just as Canor and Thedila returned from their early morning hunt.
McKay nodded to the two as they came out of the tree line, but he turned and went back to work on the gate with a new sense of urgency. Despite his intense focus on his work, his mind continually returned to John and what was wrong with him, his eyes flickering up every now and again to stare at the Jumper in which his friend lay. He wanted to go and see John, find out what was wrong, but something told him that the best thing he could do to help was get them home. So, he continued to work on the Gate with the fervor of a man possessed.
Teyla went outside to fetch some of the water near the camp fire and was met by the weary hunters.
"Teyla Emmagan, we greet you the day we do." Thedila said in custom greeting before throwing down the fruit of his morning's labour next to the fire.
"Thedila Goran, I greet the day you do back." she said the customary reply quickly as she filled a cup with fresh water.
"What has been done with John Sheppard, that he is being asleep during the light?" Thedila asked warily as he saw Ronon place a rolled up jumper under John's head as a pillow.
"We do not know what is wrong with him. He seems to be getting sicker, having seizures..."
"Teyla, did Moha got blood of John Sheppard in the night last?" It was a rather anxious Canor who interrupted.
"Yes Canor, but it is only a scratch on his leg."
Thedila looked at Canor, who gazed back with troubled eyes.
"Teyla, John Sheppard will be better to get to Nasheta as quickly as your sky craft will allow." Canor said.
"But the... sky craft is still broken, Canor, it will not fly."
"But he must be coming to Nasheta quicker than feet." Canor looked worried and agitated. "I must be looking at him."
Teyla led them into the Jumper to where Ronon sat with the unconscious John. Canor pulled John's eyelids open and peered at his eyes with interest. The whites of John's eyes were tinged with an orange colour, a film that swam atop the surface of the eye. His pupils were dilated so much so as to almost obliterate the colour of the iris and Teyla realised at once why John had calmed when she had placed his sunglasses back on his face.
Thedila explained to them that the whip-like tail of the Moha was covered in tiny barbs that would embed into the intended target's flesh and release a toxin that raged through the system like an infection that, if left untreated, would eventually kill the victim. As he explained the situation to Teyla and Ronon, he could see that they had already seen symptoms of the toxin ravaging Sheppard's body. Thedila knew from experience that John was halfway through the poison cycle, already. He waited patiently for Canor to finish his assessment, already aware that time was running out for the man. They had no way to help him unless they got him to Nasheta.
"John Sheppard be coming down to death if he not be taken to Nasheta quicker than feet." Canor announced as he let John's eyelids close. He peered at the wound on his leg through the torn material and tutted as he poked at the now inflamed scratch with his cane. "John Sheppard has no time now, he be coming down dead before night here comes."
Ronon gritted his teeth and punched the side of the Jumper, then his anger took him outside towards McKay.
"Get... this... thing... fixed!" he growled at Rodney.
"Look, big guy, it isn't as if I have been sitting around doing nothing..."
"John is dying," Ronon told the scientist. "If we don't get him to Nasheta or home before night fall, he's dead."
McKay's mouth opened and closed like a fish, his eyes wide with horror. He had been working on the Gate all day and knew that it would not be fixed in the next week, never mind the next couple of hours.
"But Nasheta is...is...so far away." he finished miserably.
"They have Medics at their medicine facility in Nasheta who could help him. Get...something fixed." Ronon growled and walked back to the Jumper, leaving McKay terrified for more than himself.
Rodney watched Ronon until he disappeared back inside the craft, shocked that John was so deathly ill. He now hated the fact that he had worked on the Gate instead of the Jumper. His thinking had been to fix the gate and bring supplies back from Atlantis in order to fix the Jumper, but now he regretted his decision. He just stared at the Jumper, letting the tablet fall out of his hand to the ground, crushed that his decision had probably cost the life of his best friend.
TBC...