A/N: Yeah, I know this chapter is a lot shorter than the rest, but think of chapters 11 and 12 as sort of a package deal. Two for one!


For a long time, I felt only that I was drifting through a veil of mist than hung over my eyes, listlessly and endlessly. I was not aware of being carried toward the Well of the Ancients, nor was I any more than only subconsciously aware of the heated discussion between Chuli'Ana and Sheppard as the dialing device was keyed to open a doorway to another world. I can recall none of the words that were exchanged between them except to say that they were both insistent about something, and then were both calmed swiftly and sweetly by Carson's chiding and desperate tone.

I did not remember being carried through the portal to be swiftly laid onto a gurney, but I do somehow remember the sensation that followed as my shallow breathing faded. Only vaguely aware of being in motion, I felt the cessation of each organ in my body giving up on life all at once. It felt like long ago that I had released my despair unto the ending of the world around me, and I was ready to pass through the dusk and into the dawn of my eternal life. A feeling of contentment and peace filled me, prepared me.

But the pressure in my chest would not let me go. Carson would not let me go, damn him. I wanted nothing more than to allow myself to fade away into the blinding nothingness that surrounded me, but he insistently pulled me back. Once… twice… then third time I was yanked back into that realm of pain and hollow sensations. How long had it been? I had no recollection of how much time had passed. I only knew that Carson was fighting for me, fighting to bring me back from the peaceful depths of my passing into the utter reality of pain as my life lay in his hands, back to that realm where I had suffered.

Suddenly, everything was all too real once more.

"That's it, Lass," Carson whispered desperately. A few cold drops of sweat dripped from his face onto the exposed skin of my left arm, and it almost felt as if his voice was emanating from inside my own head. I could not be sure it was real. "Keep breathin'. You're goin' tae make it through this, I promise."

I blinked my eyes groggily as the strength of his will seemed to send a jolt of energy from his hands through my body like a bolt of lightning. My eyes would not focus on him, though, and my body remained helplessly out of my control for some time. It was much easier to simply let Carson's hands do the work for me. I felt his fingers stroking my cheek, heard his voice trying to get my attention, but I could not move much less respond. A light began to glint as if far away and moved across my field of vision, and then the blackness took me once again.

-----

I remembered nothing more until that moment when I once again became aware of the pain. The ability to sleep lightly and remain lucid during those times I should have been unconscious was not a new experience for me. I can recall being quite lucid, though I felt no pain, as a dentist was tasked with anesthetizing me and removing one of my rear-most teeth; and I can also recall one particularly nasty bout of illness from my youth where I was quite delirious with fever, and each moment was still vividly burned into my memory. I inherited a strong constitution from my mother, both for pain and for feisty brews, and it enabled me to push past the familiar sensation of that medicinally-induced haze to reach consciousness well before it seemed I was expected to.

The room was utterly empty except for me in my bed and some kind of machinery that emitted strange sounds next to me. I had apparently been placed in a secluded area of this hospital, or the infirmary as I believe they had called it, and I was somewhat nonplussed to find myself surrounded by the same bleak off-white walls that I recalled from the Ancient structure on Lae'yere, only brighter. There were no windows to let in sunlight, and the air had only the faintest hint of an antiseptic smell in it. I was hit by pangs of regret and guilt as memories of the last few days flooded my mind, which worsened the condition of my unsettled stomach.

Biting back the bile and nausea, I knew I could not allow myself to retch, or else I'd rip the careful and studious stitching that held the two parts of my wounded abdomen together against the swelling. A line of fine tubing fed some blood from a bag hanging on a hook into my arm, and I marveled at the risk that they had taken to replenish my blood. Not everyone's blood is compatible with another's, and it was a well-known fact to me. I had once before encouraged some of the local healers to study the issue further, as the idea of transferring blood was thought of as 'unclean' among my people, but the benefits of being able to safely transfer blood from one person to another were immense.

Obviously, Carson's people had solved that riddle, and it pleased me that there was still so much more he would still be able to teach me since I was indeed alive and on the mend. Giddiness filled the gaps in my overly-medicated thought processes, and I would have chuckled heartily if it had not caused me so much pain. My short outburst must have been noticed, as I was quickly given a grievous amount of attention from several orderlies that asked me some of the strangest questions in an effort to accurately gauge my condition.

As strange as it had seemed then, perhaps it would not seem so now. Carson had entered shortly afterward, wearing the customary uniform that he had worn when I'd first seen him, but over it wore a thin, white linen coat. He offered me his most tender smile, but I could see that his fatigue had made it difficult for him. Dark circles were firmly entrenched under his eyes, and he appeared pale and in even worse shape than he was in even after I had just broken him out of the prisons. A shadow crossed my features as I realized he had probably not been able to sleep at all, his concern not allowing him to rest peacefully.

This time when he placed his hands in mine, they were cold and clammy to the touch. My strength had not completely returned, and so my grasp was weak, my hands trembling with the effort. Carson gazed down at me tiredly, but was confident and content to see me awake. He obviously hadn't expected me to recover consciousness so soon, and didn't seem to mind the lack of respite.

As he leaned over me with that luscious smile of his, it seemed as if there were a million things that he wanted to say, but could not find the words. "Are ye feelin' much pain?"

"Not too much," I said to him softly, offering a smile of my own. It seemed to put him at ease. "So, have you gotten word yet of what has transpired on Lae'yere while I have been recovering?"

Carson scoffed slightly, his grin broadening. "You've never been one to worry about yer'self before yer people, have ye?"

I resisted the urge to laugh, knowing the pain it would cause me if I did. "I suppose I'm not."

"Well," he began reluctantly, "we've not had a chance to send any other teams to your world since we brought you back with us. So, no, there's no news on that front. But your friend Chuli did assure us that she'd handle the matter of bringin' the queen tae justice until you returned, but warned us before we left not to come back without you safe an' sound."

I nodded solemnly, feeling intense fatigue about to overcome me. Carson looked over at the device and tubing that led into my arm and smiled expectantly, as if he knew something that I did not. I gave him a perplexed look just as my eyes were about to droop closed of their own volition.

"That's the morphine finally kickin' in, Lass," he said with a soft chuckle. "Remember when I told you about it in the hospital? It'll take care of the pain. You just rest easy."

My eyes would not remain open any longer, and my senses faded out of my awareness as sleep overcame me. My hands remained intertwined with his for some time, and it comforted me.