"He's what?" Rodney reached up, his hand covering the radio earpiece covering his left ear as if it would help him understand Carson's excited rambling. "Delusional?" He rolled his eyes. "Leave it to Sheppard to be melodramatic about all of this..."
"Rodney!" Carson chastised, "the man is very sick!"
"Yeah, I know! Why do you think I'm down here?" Rodney waved absently. "Never mind. So if I understand that chipmunk chatter you've been flinging at me for the last two minutes, delusions are also a symptom of this bacterial infection?"
"Aye!" Carson exclaimed, "I thought I made that clear!"
"Yes, yes!" Rodney snapped. "I get it. I'm on it. McKay out." He reached up and slapped his radio, effectively cutting off any reply Carson may have had. "Delusions..." he muttered as he set to task refining his search parameters. "Is it so hard for people to give me all the pertinent information at once?" he groused. Rodney sighed and as his hands flew over the keyboard doing what he'd call brainless work, his mind wandered. Damn it, Sheppard, why do you have to be so difficult? Rodney's frown deepened. And why do I have to be so damn worried about you? He wondered.
He executed the updated search and letting it run, he straightened, wincing at the crick in his back. How exactly did Sheppard weasel his way into my world? "And why?" Rodney muttered. For most of his professional life... okay for most of his life in general, he'd perfected the art of keeping people away from him... keeping them from getting close to him. The wall he'd built around himself was solid, it served him well and in some ways he was proud of it. Hostility and unpleasantness kept people away, and in a lot of ways, Rodney preferred it. People were unpredictable, complicated and draining; far inferior to the silent companion of pure science. Again, he sighed. But, science was no companion on lonely nights, when for some reason he couldn't fathom, he actually just wanted to talk to someone. As the years passed, deep down he realized that while his work was a large part of his life, it wasn't everything... it couldn't be everything. But, he was so good... his wall was so efficient and so strong that not even he could break it. Somewhere along the way it had morphed from a protective barrier... into a prison.
Enter Sheppard... Rodney mused. He'd treated the colonel just like everyone else, but instead of leaving him alone or avoiding him, Sheppard took his hostility in stride, his easy going manner neutralizing just about every barb Rodney ever tossed his way. It didn't help that Sheppard was smart... really smart. Smart enough to mostly keep up with him... Smarter than I'll ever admit to anyone... Intentionally or not, Sheppard had quietly chipped away at Rodney's wall; weakening it... something he himself had been incapable of doing.
Rodney looked around, feeling the need to reassure himself that he was alone and in the semi-dark quiet solitude, a small and genuine smile turned up his mouth. Somehow, the term "best friend" seemed to fit Sheppard perfectly. Rodney's smile widened slightly. Science dictated that in order to be sure of anything you needed to have a solid set of proven facts and a starting point for comparison. Since he'd really never had a best friend before, he had no basis for comparison. What the hell, a light chuckle escaped him as, in a rare moment, he threw science out the window. He's my best friend.
Rodney's smile faded as determination once again took hold. He looked down at the search results on his laptop. It has to be here. He scanned the list, his eyes catching on one particular entry. Rodney stared for a moment before slapping the enter key and bringing up the details on the entry. He quickly scanned the symptoms, and particulars of one very specific and according to the database, rare, bacteria. "Typical," Rodney muttered. "This is Sheppard, it'd have to be something unusual..." he briefly and cynically wondered if he should've added the terms 'uncommon', 'atypical' and 'unexpected' to the original search parameters.
His gaze fixed on one line of text as his mind easily translated the Ancient language into words and sentences he could understand. Paranoid delusions, due to a specific toxin released by the organism are common in victims in the final stages of shock... "Final stages?" he croaked before he read on. Delusions are almost always followed by coma and death attributed to cardiovascular collapse. He punched the down arrow on his keyboard, his gaze skimming the extensive text. "Cure... come on, damn it, there has to be a cure..." Rodney had already stumbled onto several other organisms where no known cure had been identified, but he refused to believe this was another for that list.
"Treatment..." he muttered shaking his head at the foreign medical terms. He hated medicine, roughly comparing it to voodoo, but knew enough of the terminology to know the techniques discussed were unknown or way beyond their current abilities and methods. Still...
He opened a connection to one of the computers in the infirmary and smacked his headset. "Carson, its Rodney. I've identified the organism. Still looking for a cure, but I found some information on treatment. I can't make any sense of it, but maybe you can. I'm sending a data file to..." his gaze narrowed, "Argyll." Rodney frowned as he momentarily reflected on the argument he'd recently had with Carson over naming the infirmary computers. He'd set up perfect, identifying names for each station in the infirmary, only to go back later and find Carson had renamed all of them to something or another from Scotland. The first time he'd tried to send something to the infirmary he'd spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out why "Sterling" wouldn't accept a transmission only to find Carson had spelled it 'Stirling.' "Argyll," he snorted, "at least I can spell that one..."
"Copy that, Rodney," Carson responded.
Rodney's fast paced typing hands paused for a moment. "How is he?" His brows quirked at the loud sigh he heard from Carson.
"Not good. The sooner we have a cure, the better."
"Right." Rodney tapped off his radio and continued scanning the database. The information and notes on this organism were extensive, and he resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Can't write a power flow schematic to save their lives, but had no problem detailing one damn bacterium... He jerked his hand away from the keyboard and the scrolling text stopped as his gaze zeroed in on one word. Cure. Opening that specific section of the text, Rodney hungrily read the details, his mind devouring any and all facts documented. He sat back, shaking his head as he re-read the last bit of information. "You've got to be kidding me..."
-------------------
Elizabeth never left John's side save once, when Carson had made the decision to intubate him. She stared down at his drawn face, the sound of the ventilator not doing much to comfort her. Somewhere along the way his delusions had quieted, but instead of feeling relief for that, she felt dread as on the heels of his delusions, John had slipped into a coma.
She looked up as Carson quietly walked up behind her. Her brows furrowed. "Carson?"
He sighed. "I've read the treatment information Rodney sent me. I feel like a first year med student. The Ancient's medical technology was so far beyond us..." He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"There's nothing there that can help?" Elizabeth couldn't quite keep the pleading tone from her voice, and from the look on his face, she knew Carson heard it.
"Not directly, no. Based on some of the information, I'm changing the colonel's medication slightly. Hopefully, it'll help stabilize him because his current treatment is rapidly loosing effectiveness."
Elizabeth nodded, the lump in her throat stealing her voice. She felt burning in her eyes and quickly looked away, hoping Carson didn't see it. But, his warm hand on her shoulder told her otherwise.
"We're doing everything we can, Elizabeth," Carson said quietly.
"I know," she whispered. She was starting to feel like she was sitting a deathwatch... She blinked hard, pushing away the negativity and looked up as Teyla and Rodney left their chairs and walked over to join them. Neither one had a chance to say anything as the infirmary doors opened and Rodney burst through them. He quickly sidestepped a cart and ran straight for them.
"I found the cure!" His gaze settled on John. "Oh my god..."
Carson waved at the data pad in Rodney's hands. "Give it to me. We don't have a lot of time."
Elizabeth stared for a moment at the shocked expression on Rodney's face before she reached up and squeezed his forearm. "Rodney?"
Rodney inhaled and blinked. "Right. Well, ah, one slight problem. We can't synthesize it."
"Bloody hell," Carson ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
Rodney tapped a couple keys on his data pad. "Apparently, the bacterium in question is rare, only occurring on a handful of known planets including..." he looked at her expectantly.
"M44-296," Elizabeth whispered, naming the planet John had been held captive on.
"Bingo!" Rodney pointed at her emphatically.
Elizabeth focused on Rodney's face. "Okay, so what do we need to do?"
Rodney's attention returned to his data pad. "The plant that produces a cure is about as rare. It only grows on a half dozen planets in the galaxy, including, fortunately, this one. But, when I say rare, I mean... well, rare. According to the Ancients, it only grows in one remote location on the southern continent." Rodney grimaced. "We haven't even flown a jumper over that part of the continent, much less explored it on foot. But," He turned the data pad around to face her. A large, detailed picture of a thorny flower, roughly resembling a thistle dominated the screen. The rough leaves were dark green and the flower was coral red. "At least we know what it looks like and," He punched a key and abruptly the picture was replaced with a specific set of coordinates, "we have a good idea where to look."
Elizabeth sighed. "I don't see where we have any choice but to go find it."
"I will accompany you," Teyla interjected. "While we have not explored that continent, my people are very familiar with the wilds of the northern continent."
"Me too," Ronon stepped closer to McKay. "You run into any trouble, you might need my help. Besides, I'm no good at sitting around waiting."
Elizabeth nodded at the three of them. "Take a team of Marines and whatever personnel and supplies you need. You have a go."
"Going." Rodney turned and briskly headed for the door, Ronon and Teyla right behind him.
She smiled slightly and watched them go. John's team. She had a moment of confidence. If anyone could find this plant or this cure, they could.
-----------------------------
It was so dark. John looked around his spirit strangely calm. Somehow, he'd escaped but he didn't know how. Deep inside, he knew the others were safe and he drew immeasurable comfort from that. He took a step and stopped. Pain didn't plague him, his leg was healed... he was walking. He took another step and quietly smiled.
"John."
He turned towards the gentle voice, confusion breaking his tranquility. She'd been dead for ten years...
"John."
"Mom?" His eyes widened as the darkness parted and his mother stood before him, a soft smile gracing her face. He swallowed hard and stared for a moment, before he swiftly walked to her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, words escaping him, but somewhere inside he realized there were no words that could do any justice to what he was feeling at that moment.
He felt her pull away and he released her. He stared at her as she reached up and wiped a finger along his cheek.
"You never cry," she said quietly.
John swallowed. "I did at your funeral," he managed.
She smiled tenderly for a moment but said nothing. She took hold of his hand and turned. "Come with me, John."
He nodded, held tight to her hand and followed. "Where are we going?"
She didn't answer.
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"Carson!" Elizabeth jumped back as the monitor over John's head started beeping alarmingly.
Carson dashed around the privacy curtain, took one look at the monitor and swore. "He's crashing! Carolyn!" He stepped around Elizabeth and ripped the blankets off John's body. "Elizabeth stand back!"
She managed to shuffle out of the way in spite of the pain and dread that nearly paralyzed her. Elizabeth stared at John's pale face for a moment before a high pitched keen from the monitor assaulted her ears.
"Damn it! He's arresting! Crash cart!" Carson jumped up on the bed frame and started chest compressions as Lansing whipped aside the privacy curtain and pulled a crash cart close to John's bed. Carson looked at one of the nurses. "Lidocaine bolus to his IV stat."
Elizabeth backed up another step and ran into a stout column. She leaned against it, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she fought a sense of sheer terror inside. He couldn't die, not now. Not after everything they'd been through.
"He's in v-fib!" Carson jumped off the bed, punched a button on the defibrillator and grabbed the paddles. "Charging... clear!" He barked before slapping the paddles on John's chest and shocking his heart.
Elizabeth flinched and turned her head away as John's body arched off the bed before he fell limp again.
Carson stared at the monitor and shook his head. "Damn it, Colonel, fight!" Again, he stabbed the charge button on the defibrillator. "Clear!"
------------------------------
John stopped, pulling his hand from his mother's grip as something called to him.
"John?"
He looked over his shoulder before looking back at her. The serenity inside him faded as a sense of wrongness swept over him. "I can't," he shook his head. "Mom, I can't go with you."
"Yes, you can," she insisted.
John backed a step away. "I can't."
She was still for a long moment before she finally smiled and nodded. Taking one step towards him, she reached out and gently stroked his cheek. "So much like your father."
John's hand came up and claimed hers. "Mom..."
"Shh," she chastised gently. "You don't have to say it. A mother always knows." She backed away from him, breaking her hold on his face. "I love you, John."
He watched her fade into the darkness. "Love you too, mom." Swallowing hard, John turned and headed back the direction he came from...
--------------------------
"Hold..." Carson stared intently at the monitor as one blip crossed the screen, then another. "Come on, lad, ye can do better than that..." he muttered, nodding as another blip appeared and on it's heels another. Suddenly, the beeping from the monitor took on a regular beat. "Sinus rhythm. Carolyn?" He looked down as the medic pressed her fingers into John's neck.
Carolyn nodded. "Strong pulse."
Carson sighed deeply and set the defibrillator paddles on the cart. Relief washed through him as he looked up at Elizabeth and nodded. He looked back down as one of the nurses reattached John to the ventilator. Carson grabbed the end of a blanket and pulled it up over John's chest. "Crap, son, don't scare me like that," he muttered. He looked up at his nurse. "Sheila, I want vitals every fifteen minutes for the next two hours and keep him on the Lidocaine." He sidestepped the crash cart and slowly headed for Elizabeth.
Carson scrutinized her expression as he walked towards her. He couldn't remember ever seeing her so pale and so clearly scared. Put through experiences that would make the most hardened leader cringe, Elizabeth, Carson decided, had one of the strongest spirits of anyone he'd ever met. But, she hadn't left the colonel's side through all of this. Not eating... not sleeping... Inwardly, Carson berated himself for not noticing.
Pausing, he reached out and snagged a nearby stool and carried it with him as he approached her. "Elizabeth?" He set the stool down next to her. "Sit down, lass, before ye fall down." He smiled gently as a look of blunt determination crossed her face, before she smiled thinly and slowly sat.
"John?" She looked up at him.
Carson found a small reassuring smile. "Stable for now. I don't know how much more he can take though. Rodney had best hurry and find that damned plant." His smile faded as she looked away and silently nodded. "Elizabeth, I have two orders for you."
She looked back up at him and arched an eyebrow. "Orders?"
"Aye," Carson stared evenly back at her. "One, get something to eat. Two. Get some sleep. I'll contact ye if anything changes. I promise."
"Carson..."
He shook his head. "Don't 'Carson' me, Elizabeth. Ye are exhausted. I'm the CMO and I'm pulling rank. Go."
Her lips pressed into a thin line before she stood. "The same could be said for you, Dr. Beckett."
"Aye," one side of Carson's mouth turned up. "I'll catch a few winks in a bit, when I'm sure the Colonel is stable." He pointed at the door. "Now, go." He watched her retreating back for a moment before turning and walking back to John's bed. Carson sighed deeply as he stood next to the colonel and watched the steadily beeping monitor for a moment. He looked down at John's face. "Ye better fight, son," he said softly. "Doctor's orders."