Sarah woke slowly the next morning. As she did, she tried to figure out why she struggled to regain consciousness. On any normal day, she normally popped out of bed in a semi-decent mood. Lately, she'd had problems waking up because of late nights with her mother. But this was different.
She was warm. Not that she didn't stay warm under her own blankets. But the warmth came from in front of her as she lay on her left side. A steady beat reached her ear, and she slowly realized that her right arm was draped across another body.
That woke Sarah faster than anything ever had, including the time BC stuck ice under her blankets. She jerked up a bit and blinked at Carson's face. He stirred as if she'd jarred his injuries and then settled back to sleep, his face turned somewhat away from her. The lines that normally deepened when he was thinking, smiling, or in pain had eased in sleep, leaving only a hint of them on his skin. Sarah stared at the laugh lines around his eyes, happy he was asleep and she could sort out her feelings.
Did she crawl out of bed or simply settle back in until he woke? And what time was it? She remembered being so tired after her emotional melt-down that she didn't want to move, but she couldn't say at what point she'd fallen asleep. Her mind just recalled Carson's warmth and quiet patience with her.
Looking back at his face, she smiled slightly. Her experience with men had never been great, primarily due to her desire to do the exact opposite of what her father wanted. Her father wanted a good, stable man for her life, so she went for rowdy, bad-boy types. But Carson was good, stable, with a career, and a man who would likely leave the great Benjamin Cooper MacKenzie, Sr. speechless if he ever let loose with that Scottish accent and amazing mind. And he did have an amazing mind. In the time she'd been on Atlantis, they'd shared enough conversations for her to know that Doctor Carson Beckett was even more formidable than the man bearing the name. It was what defined him, what gave him purpose, and what helped tame his natural Scottish temperament into something that made him lovable to all who met him.
Even confined to a wheelchair, he was the most attractive man she'd ever met. Last night, when she'd arrived, she'd had to force herself not to stare at him. He'd worn a black polo shirt and tan slacks then, wheeling around his room like a pro and smiling without being embarrassed about it. Now, he lay next to her—on top of the blankets—wearing the same tan slacks but a blue shirt. Or so it appeared in the one small lamp he'd left on the night before. She wondered exactly how blue his eyes would be when she saw him awake and then wondered if she'd be able to handle that.
"Are ya goin' ta stare all day, love?" His amused voice startled her, and she felt her face darken several shades.
But she had an answer. "It's not staring, Carson. It's observation. I figured you'd know that being a medical doctor."
He opened his eyes slightly to study her out of the corner of them. A smile tipped his lips upward, and she suddenly had to remind herself to breathe. She'd seen Carson smile before, but never this close. He turned his head to look at her, his grin blossoming and the dim light causing the dimple in his left cheek to seem even deeper. "Aye, that it is." He moved slightly, and she smiled at the way he rubbed his eyes. Even though she'd seen Carson in a hospital bed, she'd never seen him like this.
Realizing that she was still partially draped over him, Sarah quickly sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Not only was he still fully dressed, but she was missing only her shoes. He'd covered her with a warm blanket, but the SGC's environmental systems made even that almost unnecessary. The clock on the wall ready 10:38, and she quickly checked her watch for an AM or PM to add to that. When she'd stopped by, it had been nearly seven in the evening. She'd slept for thirteen hours? Turning to face him, she finally found her tongue. "I'm sorry for falling asleep."
He slipped a hand under his head and simply looked at her rather than sitting up. "Don't be, love. You needed the rest, and I didn't mind bein' a pillow."
Sarah flushed at that. "Yes, but your injuries. . . ."
"Don't give it another thought." He grinned at her and appeared to be searching for something to say.
Rather than waiting for him to awkwardly figure it out, she pushed to her feet. "Mind if I use your shower?"
He gave her a relieved look. "Go ahead. I'll probably slip out while you're showerin' ta check in with Dr. Lam. Then, would ya join me for some breakfast in the mess?"
Sarah grinned at that. "You mean lunch?" She pointed at the clock, and he lifted his head slightly to see around her. She saw the grimace he tried to hide when he moved and suddenly understood that he was trying to avoid showing her how badly he was hurting.
He met her eyes. "Aye, lunch it is."
Satisfied that he'd be okay, Sarah pushed to her feet and retrieved her duffel bag from near the door. Carson's eyes followed her all the way into the bathroom, and she closed the door behind her with a relieved sigh. Spending the night with him, though not in any inappropriate way, was still a huge thing to her. It meant that Carson was more than just a friend. She trusted him, and that was something she'd tried to avoid.
The bathroom offered her yet another moment of surrealism. She'd spent time in these guest bathrooms before, but she'd never felt as if she'd stepped into a man's domain. With his aftershave sitting on the tiny bathroom sink, next to his toothbrush because the mirror wasn't a medicine cabinet, this seemed rather intimate. Hearing him moving around on the other side of the door, Sarah made quick work of starting the water. She still couldn't bring herself to begin disrobing until after she heard him leave the room entirely. Then, she climbed under the hot water and let it wash away the remaining tension of the last day.
oOo
As soon as Sarah disappeared into the bathroom, Carson dropped his head back onto his pillow. He'd slept better last night than he had in the entire previous month, likely due to the idea that he was no longer in a hospital bed. But his subconscious had prevented him from moving during the night so as not to wake Sarah, and he now regretted it.
Gritting his teeth together, he slowly sat up and shook his head to clear it. The pain was still there, however, as his healing burns and the shrapnel damage tightened muscles and skin. He knew physical therapy would be difficult at best, but he also looked forward to becoming even more independent than he'd been up to now.
The water in the bathroom started, and Carson used it as cover to change into fresh clothing and then slip out of the bedroom. By his leaving so early, he hoped no one would notice that Sarah also left his room some time later. It was inevitable that talk would occur, but she'd been hurt in recent months. While nothing had happened, he knew people wouldn't believe him if he told them. Instead, he headed for the infirmary, ignoring his empty stomach in favor of putting his plan into motion.
Lam turned when he wheeled through the door. "Dr. Beckett. I thought you were leaving today."
"Aye, so did I." He gave her a rueful smile. "I had a visitor last night, though, and I wanted ta talk with ye about it."
Rather than pressing him right there, Lam led him to her office. Once the door was closed, Carson explained Sarah's situation, ending with his idea to spare the SGC a nurse to travel with him as well as helping another member of the Atlantis Expedition to grieve for her family. Lam surprisingly agreed, particularly after Carson explained that Sarah had not taken any time off and likely did not plan to do so. When he left the infirmary, his mind was made up. He just hoped that Sarah would agree with him.
She waited outside the mess hall door, her hair looking freshly washed and dried. It stood out a bit at the ends, and the uneven layers actually accented her beauty rather than taking away from it. Today, she wore another sleeveless top—this one with a collar and buttons—and a pair of black jeans. The dark blue was to be expected, and her heeled boots clicked as she paced. Carson watched her for a moment. He'd been drawn to her back on Atlantis because of her classic beauty. This wild edge to her personality, something that didn't make itself known until now, appealed even more. There were depths to this woman that no one saw, and Carson was thrilled to have even begun to see them.
She spotted him before he finished working through his recent impressions of her. Walking to his side, she smiled with a slight flush on her face. "I'm sorry about last night."
"Think nothing of it, love." Carson pushed his chair toward the mess hall. "Lunch?"
Her stomach growled loudly, and her flush deepened. "Good idea."
Rather than laughing like he wanted, Carson simply waited while she held the swinging door and pushed through. He hadn't yet mastered going through a serving line, balancing a tray, and wheeling his chair forward, so he was grateful when Sarah naturally filled her tray with selections for the both of them. Today, the mess hall had served baked chicken with rice pilaf. They'd managed to arrive right as the food was fresh, so it actually looked somewhat appealing. A garden salad and iced tea finished off the meal.
At their table, Carson and Sarah shared light chatter while they took the edge off of their hunger. Neither of them mentioned the previous night, and the mess hall filled while they ate. Carson paid attention to those around him, knowing that he could avoid the elephant in the room only so long. When the crowd around them finally thinned, he reached for the piece of chocolate pie he'd swiped from the dessert line and met Sarah's eyes. "What are your plans, now?"
Her face, which had been somewhat relaxed, sobered. "I don't know." She stared at her empty salad plate, not having a dessert with which to cover her nervousness. "I figured I'd head back to Atlantis."
"Aye, I thought ye'd say that." He smiled when her head snapped up. "Ye've been through a rough time, love. You should take some time to yourself."
"I planned to. On Atlantis."
"It never works out that way," Carson replied. "Trust me. I know how easy it is to get drawn back into work."
"Do you have a better suggestion?" Her voice held a challenge, and he knew a good portion of it was a result of her relationship with her father. This woman wanted to make her own decisions, and she would do nothing to hinder that freedom.
"Aye, I do." He met her eyes. "Come to Scotland wi' me."
Sarah blinked at him, clearly not expecting that answer. "I beg your pardon?"
"You can stay wi' my mother, sleep until ye want ta get up, wander the garden, whatever ye'd like ta do." He heard his accent thicken with just talking about what might await her in his home country. "Ye need the time, love. An' I could use the help."
Her face changed as she obviously figured there was a catch. "Help?"
"Aye." He allowed his smile to slip and a bit of his frustration to show. "Once I get home, my brother will be movin' in wi' us, and he's an in-home health care provider as well as a physical therapist. But he cannae fly wi' me. I need a bit o' help in the airports, especially since there's likely to be some long layovers."
Sarah stared at him, and Carson waited for her to make the decision. He held her gaze, however, not letting her look away for fear that she'd find the strength to say no. Then, he saw it. Something in her gaze gave way, and she looked down to her empty plate. At that moment, he let a small smile escape. He'd just gained a traveling companion.
oOo
Sarah stared at her plate. She could not be considering this. Not seriously. In all honesty, she'd expected Carson to be up and about when she arrived at the SGC, a result of that healing device. Instead, he was still confined to his wheelchair and asking for her help. Not in the long-term, of course. Just to get him to Scotland. "I can't stay long. I only have two more weeks."
"I know." His voice was soft, and he was smiling slightly. "But those two weeks will be the best thing ye could do."
"I know." Admitting that hurt. Sarah wanted to go somewhere that her father couldn't reach her, some place where she could escape the pressures of life in New York City. Atlantis sounded about as far away as she could get, but she had to confess a bit of intrigue with seeing Carson's country. Knowing that her decision had been made the moment she broke eye contact with him, she lifted her chin. "I'll pay my way." When he opened his mouth to speak, she lifted her hand. "You're paying for a one-way ticket now, and then another later. That's cheaper than a round-trip ticket for two weeks. I know it is, so don't even try to argue. I've got the money, and I'll pay for my ticket."
He clearly realized that it was the only way she'd agree because he nodded. "Alright. I haven't purchased my ticket, so would ye like ta do that now?"
She agreed, and they returned to his quarters to purchase tickets. Letting Carson man the computer, she looked over his shoulder as they organized a ticket for him and a round-trip one for her. The fact that he was still confined to a wheelchair made it a bit more problematic, but it was soon over and relatively painless. They would leave Denver the next day around ten in the morning and spend the next twenty-four hours either flying or waiting for a flight. Arrival in Edinburgh would be a welcome reprieve.
As they discussed their options, however, Sarah found her focus straying from the topic at hand. Carson had positioned his chair so that she could sit next to him. As a result, they were rather close together, sharing the same personal space. More than once, she was tempted to prop her chin on his shoulder and just listen as he spoke. She managed to resist and was grateful she had when he turned to look at her rather suddenly. Rather than staring at his amazing eyes so close to her face, she kept her focus on the computer screen and pretended to not notice the way he hesitated for a fraction of a second.
With the tickets bought, Sarah excused herself and made herself comfortable in her own guest quarters. All through that night, she tried to sleep and tell herself she was going to Scotland to take some time for her. Carson asking her had nothing to do with it in the least. Around one in the morning, she gave up trying to deny the truth if only to get some rest. She was going simply because he'd asked, and she'd been struggling to say no long before he even told her that he'd need help.
The next day, Carson allowed her to drive the short trip to Denver, and Sarah didn't try to engage him in conversation. He looked determined even though just getting into and out of the car would take some doing. Thankfully, the place where she'd rented this particular car was in Denver's airport, so she wouldn't have to worry about that. And the route they'd chosen avoided La Guardia and New York altogether, landing for their second layover in Newark, New Jersey.
Once through airport security, they had an hour to wait before their plane even landed and began disgorging its passengers. Carson wheeled his chair to a stop next to the window and looked out, lost in thought as Sarah studied him. She could imagine what was going through his head. According to everything she knew of him, he'd want to protect his family from his job. Now, he was returning home injured because he'd been doing his job.
Somewhat uncomfortable now that they were actually getting ready to take off, Sarah leaned forward and put a hand on his arm. When he turned to look at her, she smiled at him. "They'll understand."
The slight flush that colored his face told her she'd guessed his thoughts correctly. "Aye, they will." He shifted in his chair so that he could look at her better. "I was just hopin' ta never have ta do this."
"Go home injured?" When he nodded, Sarah smiled. "I understand."
"I know ye do." He moved to cover her hand with his, and his thumb rubbed over the tops of her knuckles in a slow, almost sensual, fashion. "I'm just worryin' that my mother will want ta treat me differently."
Sarah pulled her mind away from what he was doing with his hand, knowing he likely hadn't even thought about the action or its effects on her. "I'm sure she will. But she'll realize how lucky she is that you're still alive. Give her time, Carson. She'll adjust."
"Aye," he agreed.
They fell silent for a few moments, but Carson still hadn't released her hand. And Sarah didn't want him to, as much as she liked to keep her distance. Something in this man's touch skipped over her reservations and went straight to the core of who she was.
When he let out a deep sigh and released her hand, she let him go. But he seemed to put his brooding into the background and met her eyes. "I can tell ye have questions."
There it was again. He had the uncanny ability to read her eyes and figure out what she was thinking. Sarah shifted in her chair. "I was wondering about. . . ." She motioned vaguely toward his wheelchair.
He glanced down and then smiled at her. "My little setback?" When she nodded, he smiled. "Och, love, ya dinnae need ta worry about offendin' me. This chair is only temporary until I rebuild my strength."
"I can tell you're headed home, Carson." Sarah grinned at him. "Your accent's thicker."
"Aye, it always happens." He let his smile spread across his face for a moment before turning serious again. "Well, I thought I'd be up and walkin' about, too. But that device Rodney found had side effects."
"We figured it would."
"Aye, that we did." He lowered his voice, though there was no one currently around to overhear. "When I got home, I came down with TSLS."
"Toxic Shock?" Sarah blinked and thought over it. Though it was an illness often associated with women during their monthlies, she also knew that it could be contracted through other means. Then, the irritation that she hadn't even known festered. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because ye had more than enough to deal wi' while watchin' over your mum." He smiled to soften the blow. "Ye dinnae need ta be worryin' about me, too."
Sarah couldn't argue with that. "What did this device do?"
"Lowered my body's natural ability to heal and suppressed my already suppressed immune system." He shrugged. "It appears that the bloody thing heals unnaturally fast—which we knew—at the expense of the patient's own healing abilities. While it was in regular use, it caused severe pain because it lowered the level of my burns down to second and third degree, instead of the almost painless fourth degree burns in places. And that caused me to catch TSLS a wee bit easier than if I'd been healin' on my own."
"So you decided to do things the old fashioned way?"
"Aye." He met her eyes. "Don't worry, love. I'll be back up and about before ye even leave Scotland to return overseas."
The waiting area had started to fill, and Sarah fell silent as she thought over the last couple of days. She didn't feel like she was starting an adventure, but she was relieved to be going somewhere. And some place that she wasn't needed. Her trust in Carson wasn't complete, but she knew him to be a man of his word—or so she suspected. He likely had no intentions of even asking her to lift a finger to help his mother in the course of any day, but she knew she would. It was her nature.
When their flight was announced and they were allowed to board, Sarah pushed Carson's wheelchair and waited while he handed their tickets to the flight attendant. She appreciated his attitude, knowing that he could have become bitter and insisted on playing the part of the helpless invalid. But that had never been Carson Beckett.
Suddenly, Sarah looked forward to finding out how different the Carson Beckett the man was from Carson Beckett the doctor and Carson Beckett the patient. As the plane took off, she settled in for an adventure, even if it wasn't one she would have taken willingly. Maybe, with this man at her side, she'd find the peace she'd been looking for since leaving for Atlantis.
~TBC