Part 4
By Mickey

Status: Completed 2/08/2009

Word Count: 1838

It had been McKay's turn for first watch and, as instructed, he woke John precisely one-and-a-half hours after his watch had begun. John groaned into semi-wakefulness as he was not so gently shaken.

"Wha'?" he asked sleepily then remembered why he was being woken up. "Yeah, okay, I'm awake." He batted away McKay's hand as he rolled onto his back, a soft moan escaping his lips at the pain the slight movement elicited.

McKay was unusually silent, not complaining at all about, well, anything. That was enough to shake the last vestiges of sleep from Sheppard. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly raised himself on his elbows, wincing slightly at the pull to his side. "You okay?" he asked the silent scientist.

McKay stared at him blankly and after a few seconds replied, "Huh? What?" Waving a hand absently, he added, "Yeah, I'm fine, just tired."

*Yeah, and I'm the queen of England.* Knowing it wouldn't do any good to argue the point and that McKay desperately needed sleep -even in the pale moonlight, he could see the dark circles under the other man's eyes- he simply said, "Get some sleep."

Nodding, McKay stood and walked to his sleeping bag. John lay still as he watched the other man. Literally within seconds of lying down, the self-proclaimed smartest man in Atlantis was snoring softly.

Forcing himself to ignore the pain, John pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He was pretty sure he'd cracked at least one rib, but there wasn't much he could do about it for the moment. Once standing, he stretched, trying to relieve some of the tension in his aching muscles, and immediately regretted it. Resisting the urge to grasp his side, John rubbed his hands over his eyes one last time, took a long drink form his canteen then began his patrol.

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A little over an hour and-a-half later, John gratefully slid back into his sleeping bag. He'd woken Ford several minutes earlier, giving the young lieutenant strict instructions to stay on high alert and not to let his guard down.

John's sleep was restless though, and it felt as though he had just lain down when he felt Teyla, much more gently than Rodney had, shaking him awake. He blinked and looked at her through bleary eyes. "Time 's'it?" he asked wearily.

"Oh-five-thirty," she informed him, then with a concerned look added, "Are you alright, John? You usually wake on your own shortly after the last watch has begun. It has been difficult to wake you this morning."

John was silent as he let her words sink in. He was never difficult to wake for a watch and was always, without fail, awake within ten minutes of the beginning of the final watch. Yawning, he lied, "I'm fine."

Looking around, he noticed Ford and McKay throwing each other worried glances as they looked between themselves and John. Annoyed, John pushed himself upright, forcing himself to ignore the pain as he got up. Careful not to make any sudden movements, he rolled up his sleeping bag and repacked his pack. Within minutes, the entire camp was broken down and only a well trained solider would have been able to see even the slightest trace that anyone had been there.

"Move out," John called as he took point. The others fell in line behind him with Ford covering their sixes.

After what felt like days, but was actually only three hours, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Without turning, he knew it was Teyla's before she even spoke.

"Are you alright, Major?"

Not slowing down or looking at her, he replied, "Fine." It was a lie. He wasn't fine, not even close to it, but he really just wanted to get the hell off the damn planet before they met up with anymore of those creatures. Ever since they'd left the facility he'd had a sneaking suspicion that there were more creatures like the one that had attacked him. After all, what were the chances that there was only one? Whatever it was had been strong too, and freakily fast. There was no way to tell if any had escaped the facility while he and his team had been doing their recon.

"You do not look well, Major, perhaps we should rest a while."

He hadn't even realized that he'd slowed down further, or that Teyla was now walking a step ahead of him, looking at him with great concern. As much as he appreciated Teyla's concern, it bugged him for reasons he could not explain. While he realized he'd set a much slower pace then he had the day before, he hadn't realized just how slow until he'd gotten a good look around. They hadn't covered more than two miles, tops. *Shit!*

He wanted to wave off her concern, to order them to keep moving, but he knew he couldn't deny it any longer. No matter how much he hated to admit it, the creature had done some damage to his side. Relenting, he nodded.

"Let's take ten, people."

John smiled slightly as McKay shrugged out of his heavy pack and dropped to the ground where he stood, with a grateful, "It's about time." Eagerly, he dug out an MRE and dug into with gusto.

John watched him with a mixture of amusement and disgust. No MRE tasted that good, no matter how hungry you were. Dropping his own pack to the ground, John turned to Teyla. "I need you to take a look at my ribs," he relented. "I think our little friend did more than just rattle my brains." The dull ache that had started when the adrenaline had worn off and he'd drifted off to sleep the night before had blossomed into near agony. Aside from that, something just didn't feel right. There had been a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that he had more than just bruised ribs.

Considering how badly his side ached, he didn't even want to know what his face looked like. It certainly hurt as much as his side. He could feel the swelling around his cheek and eye without touching it. Just the thought of what his face might look like was enough to make him not want to see a mirror for a week or two, at least.

Looking towards Ford, he caught the lieutenant's eyes and nodded. The young man returned the nod and began to setup a perimeter around their makeshift camp.

Looking back to Teyla, he watched as she removed her pack from her shoulders and quickly located her medical kit. Kneeling beside him, she helped John remove his vest. He winced as the material seemed to stick for a moment before pulling away.

"Why did you not inform us that you had been cut?" she demanded sounding very pissed off.

"Huh?" John looked down to see a dark stain, barely visible on the dark material of his t-shirt, as well as three slits approximately five inches long and a fourth shorter cut. There were also spots of fresh blood on Teyla's hand. His blood. *Shit.*

"I didn't know." Not a lie, really. He thought he'd felt something moist on his skin as they'd run out of the building the night before, but the adrenaline had been pumping and he'd just assumed it was sweat. *Stupid, John. Very, very, stupid!* he admonished himself, knowing he should have checked for injuries as soon as they'd made camp. "Honestly, Teyla, I hadn't realized the claws had gone through the vest. I just thought I had some bruised ribs."

Teyla looked at him skeptically, but said nothing more as she helped him remove the bloody shirt. The blood had formed a kind of seal against the wound and removing the shirt hurt like a bitch. He winced in pain as the shirt was lifted away from his side and the material pulled at the wounds. He gasped as Teyla yanked the shirt up to his armpits. She threw him a "serves you right" look then winced in sympathy.

"Hold your shirt up," she said. When John grasped his shirt, she released it. Her eyes softened as she removed some gauze from her kit and dampenrd it with water from her canteen. "This will hurt," she informed him, as if he hadn't already guessed that.

"Yeah, I know, just do it."

He inhaled sharply as she began to clean the wound. Ford, who was still patrolling the area, was shooting worried glances towards him as he circled around the camp. Ignoring the looks, John focused on breathing, staying upright and not passing out.

"This is serious. Doctor Beckett will not be pleased." Reaching back into the kit, she pulled out fresh gauze, antibiotic cream, and an ace bandage. She applied a liberal amount of the cream to the gauze.

John looked up at her, trying to decide if that was her attempt at a joke. "No kidding."

"Ahh," he groaned as she pressed the gauze to his side.

Using the ace bandage, Teyla bound his ribs tightly. Once she finished, he carefully lowered his shirt. When she reached for a pre-dose syringe, he stopped her.

"No," he said firmly.

"You are in pain. The morphine will help."

"No." It came out a little sharper than he'd meant to. "It will dull the pain, but it'll also make me loopy and I need to be alert and ready for anything. We all do." He just couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't out of the woods yet.

Teyla did not look convinced, but didn't press the issue further. Instead, she pressed a package of Tylenol into his hand, handed him a canteen, and stood. He accepted them gratefully, swallowing them with one long drink of water. Grabbing his vest, he got to his feet. Ignoring the pain, he put his vest back on and said, "Let's go."

McKay looked ready to protest, his half-eaten MRE clutched possessively in his hands. Seemingly taking in John's taut features, he simply shoved a few more quick bites into his mouth and went about disposing of the packaging and getting ready to leave.

In only a few minutes, they were all ready to leave. They'd only been walking for less than half-an-hour when John got the eerie feeling they were being followed. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Teyla moved up beside him.

"I do not believe we are alone," she whispered, obviously not wanting to alarm their easily panicked scientist.

"Yeah, I feel it too." He glanced back as he walked. Ford looked tense, his P-90 gripped tightly in his hands. "I think Ford's picked up on it too. Stay on your toes."

Teyla nodded then fell back into position. John glanced back again as she did and was relieved to see that McKay seemed blissfully unaware. A few minutes later, John heard a slight rustle to his left. Lightning fast, John barely had a chance to raise his P-90 as the creature barreled into him.

TBC