In the Mind's Eye

AN: Thanks again everyone who took the trouble to review. The plot bunnies are very pleased with the all carrots and yummy offerings :p... so they hopped to work, plotting away at the next chapter. Hugs back to all of you who left such lovely comments.

Part 20

When Teyla finally awoke the first thing she saw was the blurred image of Ronon, his arms folded together, eyes closed and his chin leaning on his chest as he sat upright asleep in the chair. The sight of the tall Satedan dozing on the chair next to her bed made her smile. She turned her head to study their surroundings, frowning slightly as she saw that the room they were in wasn't Dr Beckett's infirmary on Atlantis. It took her a while to recall that they were not on Atlantis but on P3X-279 instead. Despite the sleep that fogged her mind, she noticed that Ronon was dressed in a pale yellow outfit, very similar to scrubs worn at Atlantis: a plain collarless loose shirt without buttons, and a matching set of trousers. She looked at herself, noting that she too was dressed similarly. As she lifted her head back up again, she felt the Satedan's gaze on her.

"How are you feeling?" Ronon asked, leaning across from his seat, then stretching his arms above his head like a mountain cat.

"I feel... strange..." Teyla replied, rubbing her eyes to clear her sleep fogged vision as she turned to look back at Ronon. This time she noticed the horrible bee sting welts on his face and hands, reminding her of a spotted red and cream type fruit called Spotaroo that they had on Athos. She turned to look at her own hands sporting similar bites, and her hands went automatically to her face, feeling the swollen, painful stings with her fingers, which left her wondering whether she looked as bad as Ronon.

"They will not last," Ronon replied, gesturing towards the marks on her hands and face, as if understanding her concern. "You will feel normal soon. At least that's what I've been told."

Teyla nodded, feeling relief at the former Runner's words. She looked around again, her vision getting clearer now that she was more awake. "Where are we?" she asked curiously. The last thing she remembered was feeling terribly sick after the Precyn swarm's attack. The bite marks itched terribly, it made Teyla want to scratch them. However, the Athosian knew that to do so would only make it worse and elevate the scaring.

"The Gernosian City. We needed medical treatment. Dohan and his hunters took us here." Ronon replied. The Satedan began to scratch at the bite marks on his arm, frowning darkly in annoyance and discomfort.

Teyla lifted an eyebrow and glared at Ronon sternly. "I do not think you should do that. If it opens, it will become infected. It is best not to scratch." But as she spoke, her own fingers began rubbing against an extremely itchy spot on her arm.

The Satedan stopped his scratching, gave her an amused look and gestured towards Teyla's own actions. She looked down, only now realizing what she had been subconsciously doing and gave him a sheepish smile. "Perhaps, Ronon, we could help remind each other not to scratch," she said in her calm Athosian manner.

"We could do that," Ronon agreed with a feral grin. Then he turned and looked towards the door at the soft buzzing sound that was rapidly approaching. The sound was familiar and both Teyla and Ronon knew what it was even before the Eye came into view. It wasn't long before the Eye was soon buzzing in their midst, flying about in circular motions around Teyla's bed doing a happy little dance. It did several more spins and loops some high up above the ceiling, some close beside Teyla and Ronon before turning around, flying away to disappear in the corridor beyond. Teyla lifted an eyebrow at the antics of the Eye before sharing a look with Ronon. Both knew that the arrival and disappearance of the Eye probably meant that they would get visitors soon.

"The next time it buzzes in here, it's dead." Ronon finally spoke. The Satedan's words brought a smile to Teyla's face and she lifted an amused eyebrow at Ronon. "I do not think our hosts would appreciate that, Ronon. We are guests here, we should behave as such." Teyla replied calmly.

Ronon scowl deepened in annoyance. "Still, I don't like it," came the curt response.

Teyla gave a soft exasperated sigh, but said nothing more, she understood how Ronon felt. Having the Eye watching their every move reminded her too much of the Wraith's small spy drones. It made her uneasy.

oOo

In the end it took two days instead of three to complete all the modifications to the Puddle Jumper. Major Lorne had assigned additional engineers to help Radek out with the construction of the toilet facilities as well as modifications to the power source. It had been quite a challenge with so many people working under such tight confined space. However, all knew the stakes involved and the reason they were there; everyone tried to do their tasks professionally and efficiently under the strained circumstances. There was only one major blow out. The conflict was soon quickly resolved when Lorne threatened to place the bickering engineer and scientist in the same holding cell without lunch and dinner for twenty four hours so that they might work out their differences. Neither one looked forward to that prospect, resulting in the two individuals quickly amending their story, saying that it was an accident instead of blaming the other.

"How goes it, Major?" Lorne turned to see Dr Elizabeth Weir approach to stand beside him as he watched the final work being done on the Puddle Jumper under Dr Zelenka's supervision. He gave her a brief smile before replying, "We're pretty much there, ma'am, though you may want to check with Dr Zelenka. You never know with doctors, they're a weird bunch."

When he saw the strange look that Weir gave him at his comment about doctors, even though he actually meant scientists, Lorne felt his face grow hot as he realized his verbal blunder. "Uh... I mean, ma'am, I didn't mean... er..."

Elizabeth finally smiled, letting him off the hook. "That's okay, Major, I understand what you meant, but we're all part of the same family here, so weird bunch or not, we've all got to work together, and the scientific community is just as important as the military contingent here."

Lorne had the grace to look abashed. "Yes ma'am. I know that ma'am. I didn't mean like how it sounded."

Elizabeth smiled again, turning to look back at the modified Puddle Jumper. "Good. Then I take it that you and your men are all set to go?"

Lorne nodded with a grin, glad at the change of topic. "Since two hours ago," he replied. Elizabeth lifted a surprised eyebrow. "I see. I didn't expect them to be so keen. After all, staying together in an enclosed environment for a three day journey on a Puddle Jumper is no picnic."

This time Lorne paused, as he took a quick sideways glance at Elizabeth, before turning his attention back to the Puddle Jumper. "No ma'am, I wouldn't say that the team is eager for the trip, ma'am. But we are eager to get Colonel Sheppard and his team back to Atlantis."

An approving smile creased Elizabeth's lips as she turned once more to glance at him. "Good, I'm glad to hear you say that Major, because I'm sure that sentiment is shared by everyone in Atlantis too. I also understand that you'll have a medic accompanying you?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Austin is the best field medic that I know of. I understand that he even received some last minute instructions from Dr Beckett." Lorne replied.

Elizabeth nodded. "I asked Carson to ensure that the medic had all the essential information and gear he needed in case there anyone was injured." Elizabeth replied somberly, recalling the conversation that she had with Carson.

"Do you really think that there might be injuries, Dr Weir?" Lorne asked, looking concerned.

Elizabeth turned somber green eyes at him. She shook her head for a moment and then continued to look at the modified Puddle Jumper. "I don't know Major. I hope not, but there's always the possibility, and it's better to play it safe rather than sorry."

oOo

Despite wanting to maintain his level of optimism, McKay's condition had deteriorated rapidly as the day progressed. To John's annoyance, he discovered that Rodney had used the last of the morphine on Sheppard himself in the early hours of the morning, which explained why the pain felt dulled when he first woke up. Sheppard knew that this meant that McKay would be in a world of pain of his own, what with the compound fracture that he couldn't do much about. It wasn't long before McKay's voice started to sound weaker and he started to ramble incoherently, which really started to worry Sheppard. The scientist was getting delirious, and Sheppard wasn't sure whether it was the result of his injury or a hypoglycemic reaction, as Rodney had suddenly stopped eating his regular snacks and meal. He also knew that he needed to clean and wash Rodney's leg wound again in hopes of preventing further infection. However, he couldn't do that while Rodney was still awake, so he had spend his time badgering the scientist to get some sleep.

When Rodney finally dropped off to sleep or fell unconscious, John wasn't certain which, he had to face the fact that they were both in serious trouble. Rodney had been sleeping for two hours now when John's gaze went once again to Rodney's splinted leg. He knew that he should set about cleaning it soon, and he did not like the fact that he had missed a day from doing so. His eyes went to his backpack as he forced his wounded and weakened body to reach for more bandages and the bottle of antiseptic. There wasn't much antiseptic lotion left, so he had to use it with caution. However, there was only so much you could ration, especially if you wanted to do a good job to fight against a nasty infection. John sighed, and tried not to notice the tremble in his hands. It was best to do the cleaning while Rodney was out, especially now that they had run out of morphine. As soon as he had removed the old bandages on Rodney's leg, the rancid smell of infected flesh assailed his nostrils and he knew that the scientist was in serious trouble. He wondered about his own wound, which hadn't a chance to be cleaned; it was not something that he liked to think about. From the way he was feeling, he knew that it couldn't be good. 'Stay focused, John. Concentrate on helping Rodney,' he told himself. Biting his lower lip, a dark frown creased his brows as he began the process of cleaning Rodney's injury. When he was done and had the scientist's leg nicely bandaged and splinted again, the task left him feeling shaking and terribly weak. The fact that Rodney hadn't awakened during the entire time also worried him, not that he wanted the scientist awake to experience his ministrations, but it showed him how Rodney's condition had deteriorated.

He sighed, leaning back against the slanted wall of the broken vessel, contemplating whether he should try to make it to the power source on his own. He knew that he had given Rodney his word that he wouldn't earlier, but sometimes there were promises that were meant to be broken, especially when it came to saving lives. As of yet, he couldn't think of any other alternative of how to get themselves out from this fine mess that they were in. As he was considering other options, a dry irritation at the back of his throat came creeping up like a thief in the night. He didn't realize it was building to a crescendo until he started coughing, painful racking coughs, that seemed to start at the very pit of his stomach and welled up into a coughing fit that scared the life out of him. Once begun, he couldn't stop. Each cough sent shooting daggers of pain into his chest and injured side, his lungs felt as if they were drowning in molten acid. When he started to cough out blood, he knew that he was in serious trouble. The only blessing he had was that Rodney was still asleep or unconscious to have witnessed it. And for the first time in his life, hope faltered: he knew that if they didn't get rescued soon, there was a strong possibility that neither of them would make it out off this planet alive. Things were definitely looking screwed right about now.

Exhausted, close to losing all hope, with the maw of despair threatening to swallow him whole, Sheppard looked upwards, his mind not seeing the broken ceiling above but rather further beyond, imagining the late afternoon sky which he knew was above them. "Come on guys, where are you?" he whispered softly to himself, the tone of his voice was desperate as he thought about the S&R team that he was sure was on their way. "We need you guys, like about yesterday..."

'Rodney and I are dying and there's nothing that I can do about it.' The thought came like a physical blow to Sheppard. Never in his life had he felt so helpless as he did then. He felt something akin to despair seep into his soul. It was an unfamiliar feeling, for his nature tended to be more optimistic rather than pessimistic. The last time he felt this way was in Afghanistan, when he realized that he could not save his friend despite disobeying orders to do so. This time, not only had he failed McKay, but he too would die along side Rodney. The deal that he had made with Rodney would not be kept. It would be another broken promise to tag along with other broken promises that he had made to military friends in the past; those whose lives he had failed to save despite his best efforts to do so. Life sometimes sucked big time.

Sheppard moved his hand painfully towards his chest. His head lowered and breathless as he tried to repress another coughing fit. The recent bout of coughing had left him feeling weak and exhausted, he didn't know how long he could last. The pain was becoming almost unbearable now. His chest felt like it was on fire, and his breathing rattled painfully as he slowly drowned in his own blood. He knew that one of his broken ribs must have punctured a lung during that last fall. If they didn't get rescued and receive medical treatment soon, he didn't think he or Rodney would make it. He had never felt so helpless in his life, and he didn't know what to do about it. 'You just need to rest, John, if only for a while, perhaps later, you'll think of something.' Sheppard counseled himself.

He must have dozed or fallen unconscious, he wasn't sure which. The next thing he knew, he was instantly awake, feeling an indescribable sense of danger present. There was an echo of something, a noise of some sort that had jarred him awake. His hand crept to the makeshift wooden spear that lay close by, taking a firm hold on it. He tried to slow the harsh sounds of his raspy breathing, but wasn't quite successful. He didn't know what had awakened him, but he knew that it was something, some noise, an item that was out of place. His military training was fine tuned enough to sense when danger was close at hand, and so far his instincts had never failed him. Turning his head, he saw that Rodney was still asleep or unconscious, the scientist breaths now echoed his own. Rodney's pale, waxen face made him look more like a corpse rather than a living person. Sheppard frowned at his dark thoughts not liking where it was leading him.

A loud bang of something hard and metal-like falling somewhere deep within the confines of the crashed alien vessel brought Sheppard's startled head whipping around in the direction of the sound. The knuckles of his hand stood out pale white against the wooden spear that he clutching tightly in tensed anticipation. He forced himself to sit up straighter, groaning slightly as the movement awoke the stabbing pain of his wounds. He wondered what could have caused the loud noise, and for an instance, there was a glimmer of hope as he wondered whether it was the S&R team finally making their way through the crashed alien vessel. Then he recalled that the sound came from deep within the alien vessel it, not from outside. Perspiration fell from his forehead to drip into his eyes, blurring his vision slightly. With irritation, he wiped the moisture away and rubbed his tired eyes. His gaze never left the shadowed doorway from where the noise emitted, and he prayed that whatever was approaching, wasn't the ant creature to which he very much hoped was dead.

oOo

AN: Uh oh! Things are not looking good for our guys... Does John need some extra large cans of bug spray right about now?