Chapter 4
John had been floating in the twilight between awareness and unconsciousness for quite some time. Noises infiltrated occasionally - voices, beeping, a steady whoosh and hiss. Any time he neared wakefulness, the most incredible pain invaded. It was everywhere, in his head, chest, abdomen, legs, back. Almost immediately, relief would wash through his veins, and he would retreat back into the numbness. But the moments of clarity were coming more often and lasted longer.
This time, he felt a hand on his, gripping his fingers. He squeezed back and heard a gasp.
"John?"
Teyla.
He swallowed thickly as he tried to make his voice work. His throat was so sore. What happened? A memory danced just out of his reach. He concentrated until a face formed. Ronon!
His eyes flew open and found complete darkness. He heard Teyla's sharp intake of breath.
"Ron-"
"Hush, John. Do not try to speak. Let me get Dr. Beckett."
He turned his head toward her voice and tightened his grasp on her hand. He coughed as he tried again.
"Ronon?" he whispered.
"Ronon is fine, Colonel. I will return shortly with Dr. Beckett."
Sheppard fought to stay awake but lost the battle. He was asleep again by the time Carson arrived.
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The strident tones of Rodney McKay woke him the next time.
"…every trading partner we've had and asked. No one knows where the Satedans currently are. We've found a couple on Belka and a few on Manaria, but they've all been merchants or soldiers. Not a farmer or scientist to be found."
Satedans? Why would McKay be looking for Satedans? Ronon! Something had happened to Ronon. What was it?
He was surprised at the absence of light when he opened his eyes. John attempted to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Why would the infirmary be completely dark? Was there a power outage? No matter how valiant his efforts, he couldn't think clearly. Utter exhaustion overcame him, and sleep claimed him again.
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The hand on his forehead was cold. He shifted underneath it and groaned, opening his eyes.
"Oh my God." She sounded horrified. "John?"
"Liz'beth?"
"Let me get Carson. I'll be right back."
All of the lights must have been off in the infirmary since it was pitch black. How strange. He listened to Weir's quick, unhesitating steps as she hurried to retrieve the physician. No one walked that surefooted in the infirmary in the dark, not even Ronon.
He reached a shaky hand to his face. No bandages over his eyes or around his head. He wiggled his fingers and succeeded in hitting his nose. Comprehension dawned. Oh, God….
The beeping near him sped up, and he realized it beat in synch with the pounding in his chest. Heart monitor. He moved his hand down to his chest to find cardiac leads attached. What the hell had happened to him?
"How are you feeling, lad?"
John startled at Carson's voice. He hadn't heard the man approach.
"I'm so sorry, son. I didn't mean to sneak up on you like that. Would you like an ice chip?"
John nodded and felt a hand on his face. He opened his mouth and sighed in relief as the coolness quenched his thirst.
"Better?"
"Yes. What happened?"
"What do you remember?"
"A planet. A farm. Ronon." He shook his head, wincing at that pain, wanting to recollect. "He had a reaction. Is he OK?"
"Yes, Colonel, he's recovering nicely. Anything else?"
"You came, and we got him to the gate. Not much after that."
Carson gave Sheppard another ice chip as he explained. "You ingested some of the spray that caused Ronon's allergic reaction, and it made you very sick. Your body has been fighting the toxin for a week now. Your heart and lungs have had quite a time so expect to feel very weak. I believe you are past the worst of it. We'll start building up your strength, but you need to know it will be a slow process."
"And my eyes?"
John could tell from the immediate silence that the answer wouldn't be good. He struggled to stay awake, needing to know.
"Just tell me, Carson."
"Your eyes were affected by the spray, John. I'm not an expert on the eye so I can't tell you the extent of the damage or the prognosis. The SGC is sending one of their top ophthalmologists on the Daedalus. He should be here in a couple of weeks."
"Weeks? So long?"
"I know, Colonel, but it will give us time to get the rest of you well. Now, I can tell you're exhausted and maybe in a wee bit of pain?"
John smiled. His head felt like it was splitting open, and it took every bit of his strength to stay awake. He heard footsteps approaching and turned his head toward them.
"I heard Prince Charming is awake. How are…. Oh, I mean, um, so, how are you?" Rodney stammered.
Sheppard frowned at McKay's question. Why was he tripping over his words like that? He turned back in Beckett's direction.
"What aren't you telling me, Doc?"
"What do you mean?"
Evasion. Damn. He swiveled his head in Rodney's direction. "McKay?"
"Sheppard."
"Goddammit! Just tell me!" He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. What kind of scars must he have for this kind of reaction?
"John, please calm down."
"Then you tell me, Elizabeth. Why is everyone acting like I'm Frankenstein?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your initial reaction. McKay fumbling for words. Carson dodging questions. What's wrong with me?" He could hear the panic in his voice, but no amount of self-control could get rid of it. He felt Elizabeth's hand on his.
"Your eyes look…different."
"Different how?"
Carson cleared his throat. "You have extensive corneal scarring, Colonel. Have you ever seen anyone with severe cataracts?"
Oh, no. Please, no. Anything but his eyes. He couldn't function without his eyes, not as the head of military operations of Atlantis. They would send him back to Earth. He wouldn't have a place here. He could command without an arm or a leg, but not without his eyes.
When Carson had said damage, he hadn't really realized what that meant. He did now. He had seen people on Earth that had no medical care, especially in some of the poorer countries where he'd been stationed. One old man had massive cataracts. It was impossible to see his pupils or his irises, just a cloudy, milk-like covering on both eyes.
John snapped his eyelids closed and clenched his jaw, shaking with the effort to control his emotions. He drew in a deep breath.
"I think I'd like to get some sleep now."
"Of course, Colonel," Carson soothed. "Rodney, you can visit later."
Sheppard heard McKay and Carson leave. Weir's fingers still gripped his hand.
"I'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."
"Are you sure, John?"
He nodded, turning his face away from her voice. She released his hand and walked away. He felt the despair well up inside. He was going to lose everything.
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Sheppard awoke several times over the next few days. The first few instances he forgot to not open his eyes, until someone would walk by and gasp. After that he kept them closed all the time. People came and went, but he was lousy company and didn't encourage them to stay.
He progressed from bland broth to hearty soup to solid food by the end of the first week. He caught on quickly to the art of eating without sight. Carson had warned him that they were going to get him walking in a few days. He was not looking forward to it.
He monitored the passing of time by the sounds of the infirmary. The stillness and silence signaled night and the return of one his team. He was typically so tired that he fell asleep before they arrived and woke after they left, but he knew they had been there.
This night he been dreaming about the quality time he had spent recently with Kolya. He jerked awake, gasping at the memory of the feeding. He heard movement to his left as someone approached his bed. He felt a delicate touch on his hand.
"Are you all right, John?"
He remembered to keep his eyes shut and nodded. "Bad dream." He shifted away from her, hoping she'd take the hint.
After a moment, he felt Teyla's hands on his face.
"Open your eyes, John."
"Leave me alone."
He tried to turn away, but she pulled his face back toward hers.
"Open your eyes."
"Why? I can't see you."
"But I can see you. Please, John."
He drew in a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Still total darkness.
"You told me when we went to rescue Ronon that you thought of us as your family. Has that changed?"
"No," was the hoarse reply.
"Then know that you are our family as well. I am unsure of the kind of family you had as a child. In my experience though, a family celebrates your victories and shares your pains. You are not alone. We will walk through this with you."
"They'll send me back to Earth, Teyla. I can't fly, and I certainly can't run military operations like this."
"All is not lost yet, John. Allow this doctor to examine you when he arrives. Between Earth medicine and Ancestor technology, surely there is a way to reverse this."
"It's a nice thought, Teyla, but I doubt it. I've seen ocular damage before. Some things just can't be fixed."
"Please do not give up hope."
He attempted a smile. "I'll try not to. And, Teyla, thanks. It's good to have family."
He heard Beckett approach. "Teyla, love, could you give me a minute with the colonel?"
"Of course, Dr. Beckett." He felt her hands move to his shoulders and her forehead gently touch his. "Goodnight, John."
John could hear her as she made her way from the infirmary.
"She's right, you know."
"Carson…."
"Don't give up, John. We aren't sure of the extent of the damage, remember? This may be completely reversible."
"You don't believe that any more than I do."
"That's where you're wrong, Colonel. I have seen more impossible things actually happen in the past two plus years than I could have ever imagined. This is the Pegasus Galaxy. Apparently anything can happen here and often does."
Sheppard did smile at that. After a quick check of vitals, Beckett bid him goodnight. Maybe….
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John jerked awake, breathing heavily, the cardiac monitor broadcasting the hammering of his heart. He'd tried to convince Carson he didn't need it any more, but the Scot wanted to leave it on for a few more days. Damn nightmares.
As he calmed down, he became aware of a presence. He listened intently but couldn't pinpoint a location. That meant only one thing.
"Ronon?"
He heard a creak from a chair to his right as the Satedan leaned forward.
"Sheppard."
"Hey, Big Guy. How are you doing? Sorry I haven't been awake long enough to talk to you before now."
"No big deal. Doc says I'm good as new."
John could hear it in his voice, a sound he'd hoped to never hear again. The quiet pleading that he'd heard on that planet where the former runner had stuck a knife to his own throat to bargain for the lives of Sheppard and Teyla.
"What's wrong, Ronon?"
"I just told you I'm fine."
"Don't lie to me."
"Sheppard-"
John heard the crack in his voice, and he suddenly understood. Survivor's guilt.
"This isn't your fault, Ronon."
"If I hadn't-"
"What? If you hadn't what? Had an allergic reaction? You can't control that. And you don't know that the outcome would have been any different."
"If you had washed that stuff off instead of-"
"You think I'd trade your life for my eyes? Are you nuts?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Yes it is. If I had taken the time to wash my face and hands and rinse out my eyes, you'd be dead. Do you really think that's what I'd prefer? Would you, if our positions were reversed?"
"No."
"Then stop it. I made my choice, and I wouldn't change it, no matter what happens."
John felt something settle inside. He meant it. He'd been feeling supremely sorry for himself for the past week without thinking of the impact it would have on the others. That was going to stop right now. If saving Ronon's life meant losing his eyesight, then so be it.
"Can you do something for me, Chewie?"
"Name it."
"My aviator shades are in my quarters. Can you get them for me?"
"Be right back."
Sheppard heard the Satedan's long strides as he left the infirmary. Tomorrow they would see the old John Sheppard. He smiled to himself as he drifted off to sleep.
An hour later, McKay arrived to spell Ronon. He found Dex sprawled in the chair next to the colonel's bed, snoring softly. Rodney wondered why the lights were on around Sheppard's bed and decided it wasn't important. He gave a soft laugh at the sunglasses sitting on the rolling tray table next to the water glass and cd player.
He walked around the side of the bed, evaluating Sheppard for a moment. His color had returned to normal, and the tension lines were fading from his face. McKay blinked at a small pink scar that caught his attention until he realized what it was. The Wraith feeding mark. He knew he'd see three other pink scars crisscrossing it if he looked hard enough. Sheppard had never talked much about what had happened, and for once, Rodney hadn't pushed him. It was hard enough the first time. None of them wanted to relive it.
Taking advantage of the situation, McKay leaned in for a closer look and gaped in dismay. Five scars. He knew of three feedings and the gift of life. That left one unaccounted for. He closed his eyes and dropped his head as he rubbed the scar on his own arm. That could only mean the Wraith had fed on Sheppard four times.
Rodney slumped against the bed next to the pilot's. McKay had been stabbed once in the arm and screamed like a girl, giving away the precious secrets of Atlantis to Kolya. Sheppard had been fed on four times by a Wraith and had never backed down or begged for mercy.
Sheppard was special ops trained, and McKay knew intellectually that the comparison wasn't fair. But deep inside, Rodney was ashamed that he'd caved so easily.
He stretched out on his side on the unoccupied bed, facing the military commander and the runner. Two of the toughest people he'd ever met in his life. McKay understood what losing his sight would mean for the Air Force colonel. A quick trip back to Earth and forced retirement. There was no way in hell the physicist was going to let that happen. He would think of a way to fix this.
Rodney woke as something brushed his hand. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He watched as one of the night nurses checked Sheppard's vitals. She was good. The pilot never stirred as she noted his blood pressure and pulse, wiping his face with a damp cloth after adjusting the nasal cannula. With the light, McKay could see her lips moving. The thought of her talking to herself made him grin as his eyelids drooped closed, and sleep reclaimed him. He didn't see her turn his way with a smile or feel the small touch on his shoulder as she walked past him, lips still moving.
A clattering sound rang through the infirmary and yanked McKay from his dream. He opened his eyes to find an instrument tray on the floor, and a very embarrassed Beckett trying to pick everything up before anyone noticed. His gaze drifted to Sheppard, who had slept through it, and then to Ronon. The last tendrils of the dream solidified as he looked at the three men. Of course! For a genius he could be a real idiot sometimes.
He sat straight up and grinned at Ronon. "Want to go for a ride?"
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tbc
