This is a light chapter. Just bringing 'em home...
THE THERMOPYLAE
By TIPPER
——————————————————————————————
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: JOY TO THE WORLD
Sheppard was sitting on the rubble, leaning back against the metal that was currently boxing in McKay, one arm resting on Teyla's calves curled by his right hip. Ronon sat up near McKay's head, looking down at the scientist and Teyla, both sleeping.
Around them, torches were set up in a ring, shedding much needed light throughout the engine room. The Wraith corpse had been hauled away and dumped somewhere, Sheppard didn't ask where. The fires at the other side of the room were being put out, as were the ones in the mess hall and the center of the ship. Amazingly, they found McKay's dart buffer still intact near the engine room end of the mess hall, and it was still hooked up to the auxiliary power system through the wall. Its location had saved it—had it been in the front of the ship, power would have been cut the moment the overhead wires joining front and back were snapped. There wasn't much power left in auxiliary, but there was enough to sustain the buffer for a few days at least—especially since it was no longer being used for the shields.
Villagers were currently making all four of them as comfortable as possible with blankets and hot drinks, and Innis was pulling out bandages and medicines from the two cases that Beckett had left behind. She would hold up bottles for Sheppard, and he'd tell her what each could be used for.
He knew he was slurring as he spoke to her, feeling both warm and sleepy as he watched her lay things on the ground. He knew those feelings would disappear in a minute, when Innis, Fallen and the others started trying to clean them up and fix their wounds, but for now…now, with his team around him and alive…he was happy.
"Thank you for coming," he said finally. He'd already said it to some of the others, but Innis and Fallen were the two he knew best, and he wanted to make sure they knew how much he appreciated their presence.
"I am only sorry it took us this long to come down," Innis said, shaking her head as she worked. "We had to convince the others that the kalakala would not attack, and that, surely, if we found any surviving Wraith, that we could kill them." She smiled up at him, then over at Ronon, who was blearily watching her now as well. "We have your weapons, by the way. The Wraith just left your guns atop the cliff." Ronon smiled in return, clearly happy at the news.
"What are the kalakala again?" Sheppard asked, wiping a hand through his hair, and grimacing when he felt the clods of mud.
"The giant snakes," Innis replied. "You remember—one attacked you and Doctor McKay earlier. We saw no others when we ventured down, but old fears are hard to overcome. Really, I can't imagine one coming out unless provoked." She smiled again, then gestured to someone behind her, so she missed the tiny smirk on Sheppard' face at her comment. A moment later, a young man came toddling up with a couple of buckets of water.
"Are they warm?" Innis asked, peering up at the man. He gave a tired looking nod.
"Boiled on the fire, as we were taught by Doctor Beckett."
"Good," Innis smiled, and looked back at the Colonel. "I'm going to clean and set your left leg now, and I presume you'll want a..." she hesitated, as if unsure of the right words, "'shot' of this morphine first, correct?" She held up a syringe with a measured dose inside.
"Yeah," Sheppard said, giving her a nod.
"All right, then. Are you ready?" She made a move to remove the syringe from the protective plastic.
"Oh, uh, wait…" Sheppard held up a finger, not really wanting to get doped up just yet. "Hang on." He turned his gaze to Ronon, "Wake up McKay, will you?"
Ronon stared at him, then leaned over and jostled McKay's shoulder. The scientist didn't react.
"McKay," Ronon muttered, shaking him a little harder. "Wake up. Sheppard needs you."
That earned a frown, then a sigh. Blue eyes fluttered partially open, and peered unhappily out at the world through long lashes. "What?"
"McKay," Sheppard called, "You hear me?"
"No, go away," McKay replied, closing his eyes again. "Bug someone else."
Sheppard lifted his eyebrows, and looked up at Ronon again. The Satedan jostled McKay's shoulder hard this time, and the scientist gave a pained grimace, pulling the shoulder away from the heavy hand.
"Damn it, my back! My back, remember?" he muttered in annoyance. "Don't do that!"
"It's just a shallow cut, McKay," Ronon replied, "I checked. Didn't go much deeper n' an inch or two. You'll be okay."
McKay just harrumphed, and opened his eyes again, focusing at some point beyond both Ronon and Sheppard. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, you sadist," he grumbled. "What do you want?"
"Sheppard's got a question."
"Shock. What does he want?"
"He," Sheppard said loudly, to reassert his authority, "wants to know how long it will take the Daedalus to get here from Atlantis."
McKay sighed and frowned, his nose pinching as he obviously went through some calculations in his head. "Um," he licked his still pale lips, "I'd guess about eight hours or so."
"It was scheduled to dock in Atlantis at about 1800 hours, Atlantis time. So, when was that in this planet's time frame?"
"You're so annoying," McKay replied, closing his eyes again. "Find my tablet, it has the exact time difference in the upper right hand corner."
Sheppard tilted his head, "McKay, do you recall the setting your in? I don't think your tablet is readily handy."
McKay opened his eyes again at that, and frowned unhappily. "My laptop too, I presume," he noted quietly.
"I'd say it's shish kebab, yeah."
McKay sighed sadly. "Someone needs to download what's left in the ship's database onto something else then. It needs to be preserved. Tell whomever comes from the Daedalus to do that." And McKay shut his eyes again.
Sheppard stared at him, rolled his eyes and nodded at Ronon. The Satedan shook McKay again, adding a twist into the shake and earning a singular groan of true irritation.
"Oh for God's sake," McKay muttered, "What now?"
"You didn't answer his question," Ronon said. "When's the Daedalus gonna get here?"
"That's not what he asked," McKay replied snidely.
"No, but it's what he meant."
"He already knows the answer. He knows the time difference because I told him several times before and after we arrived on this planet. He knows what time it is now. He can work it out for himself."
"McKay," Ronon said, nudging him. "Just tell him."
"He's just being lazy. I'm tired, bleeding and trapped under a ton of heavy metal...he can do it himself."
"McKay..."
But Rodney just closed his mouth, the still colorless lips set in a firm line. Ronon was about to speak again, but Sheppard held up his hand.
"Rodney," the colonel called.
"Rodney's asleep," McKay replied. "Try back later."
"If you don't help me," Sheppard wheedled, "I'll sing something."
McKay grimaced, and his eyes opened, narrowing to slits as he peered down at Sheppard. "You wouldn't." Sheppard could play guitar, and he knew music, but his singing voice…left something to be desired.
At which point, the colonel launched into a surprisingly perky version of Three Dog Night's 'Joy to the World,' complete with terribly improvised instrumental.
"Jeremiah was a bullfrog! Dun, dun, dun Was a good fried of mine! Dun, dun, dun. I never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine, and he always had some mighty fine wine. Singing, joy to the world! And all the boys and girls! Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea! Joy to you and me! Joy to the world! And all the boys and girls! Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea! Joy to you and me!…"
McKay's face scrunched up in pain, and color touched the cheeks for the first time since they found him as he obviously fought his gag reflex. Around them, the villagers stopped, watching Sheppard like he had suddenly gone crazy.
When he got to the verse about being a "high flyer and a rainbow rider, a straight shootin' son of a gun", Innis started to hum along to addictive little refrain that followed, and someone else actually tried to tap the beat on the debris.
"STOP!" McKay shouted, using the last of his strength. "Please, for the love of God, Sheppard, stop!" The effort left him panting, but he was awake. He glared at Sheppard, the expression on his face so dour he looked like someone had just told him Canada was being annexed into the U.S. "Okay! Okay, you win. My God, that was just...just cruel!"
Sheppard just grinned. "So, Answer Man, what's my answer?"
McKay's glare lessened, until it was mostly just a sneer. "I need to know what time it is here first."
"Around 8 turns," Innis supplied.
McKay closed his eyes, and his breath evened out. Finally, just when they thought he had gone to sleep again, he opened them. "A little less than five hours, maybe four and a half, if they left immediately after arriving."
Innis stopped pulling things from Beckett's case, her hands stilling over the materials. The other villagers, where they had been slowly clearing the engine room to make room for when more Atlantians arrived, had paused as well and some looked up towards the sky.
Then, slowly, they returned to their activities. They knew they were leaving, but now they had a time frame. To them, it had probably sounded very final.
Less than five hours, Sheppard mused, watching them. To the villagers, they probably hoped it would be longer, but to him…he was worried it wouldn't be soon enough.
Sheppard's expression soured, looking at McKay. The scientist's eyes had closed again, and the brief dots of color on his face faded, his skin returning to its wan appearance. He appeared to be asleep again. He'd loved getting a rise out of the man, to see him respond normally to him, but he knew it was just fleeting. Frankly, he couldn't tell how much blood the scientist had lost—he just didn't have the expertise, no matter how many wounds he'd seen in his life. There seemed to be a lot on the floor, but was it too much? Sheppard just didn't know. All he knew was they needed to wrap that left arm in a real bandage, one that wouldn't cut off his circulation, which Teyla had nearly done with her jacket sleeve. At least the one of his back appeared shallow—but infection was a nasty possibility. Thankfully, the scientist seemed to be past the phase where he might have gone into shock…at least, Sheppard hoped so.
Five hours…
And he and Ronon were in a similar boat. Ronon's leg wound was deep, and he'd lost a significant amount of blood as well, not to mention getting it covered in mud. Sheppard himself hadn't lost much blood, at least, not that he could tell, but his broken left leg and sprained right were in a world of pain, and he knew, now that he was sitting, he wouldn't be getting up again without a lot of help. His back had already begun to seize up.
But the one he was most worried about was Teyla. She had not woken once since they'd found her, her head still resting on McKay's shoulder. Even when Ronon had lifted the scientist a little to check on his back, she hadn't stirred.
And it was scaring him.
They needed Beckett.
"McKay?"
Rodney didn't answer, and gave no sign of having heard.
Ronon made to shake his shoulder again, but Sheppard shook his head. "No. But…try Teyla again, will you?"
The Satedan's expression darkened. He didn't look happy at the request.
"I'm hoping it's just a nasty concussion, and, if it is, waking her every so often is necessary," Sheppard said. "If it's worse, there isn't much we can do, and you probably won't wake her anyway. Either way, if we can awaken her…we need to try."
The Satedan closed his eyes, then opened them again. With a gentleness he didn't show McKay, he reached down and shook Teyla's shoulder.
"Teyla," he called, "wake up."
She didn't. Just as she hadn't woken up the first time he tried about half an hour ago.
"Teyla, please. It's Ronon. You need to wake up." He shook her arm again, more forcefully. "Wake up, Teyla."
McKay opened his eyes, obviously awakened by the shaking. He watched as Ronon tried a third time to wake her. The scientist tilted his head back, looking up at Ronon sitting there, then, with a sigh, he dislodged Ronon's hand from Teyla's shoulder and touched his own cold fingers to Teyla's face.
"Teyla," Rodney said quietly. "We need you. Wake up."
She didn't respond, so McKay pinched his blood caked fingers around her nose...and pulled hard.
Instantly she jolted up into a sitting position, eyes wide open and blinking, and stared in utter confusion at McKay. She was clearly disoriented, and she swayed a bit before Ronon stabilized her with a hand to her left shoulder. One hand went to her nose, and she frowned, not at Ronon…but at McKay.
"Rodney?" she asked, swallowing as it came out a little rough.
"Hi," he replied. "I guess that worked, huh?" She frowned at him even more deeply.
"Did you just pull my nose?"
"You told me your father used to do that when you wouldn't wake up, and threatened to use it on me when I didn't get up fast enough when we were off-world once. Figured it might still work."
She stared at him, then blinked slowly. "You remember that?" she asked softly, clearly surprised.
McKay just closed his eyes. "I remember everything you tell me," he muttered, already half asleep again, "except the names. All those people you know..." He sighed. "Just too many names to remember…" His voice trailed off at the end, to the point of barely being audible, and he was clearly asleep again by the time he rolled the last "r".
Teyla watched him for a second, then seemed to realize she herself was being watched. Her brown eyes blinked a few more times, finally noting the brightness of the room around her, then down to the hand on her left shoulder. She stared at it for a moment before lifting her head to the left to see Ronon.
"Ronon?" she breathed.
The Satedan gave her a nod in reply, then looked over her shoulder and nodded again.
She turned to the right, and her eyes widened upon seeing Sheppard. Slowly, her frown lifted into a beautiful, thankful smile.
"Colonel?" she asked, clearly having as hard a time believing it as the other two. "Is that really you? We thought..."
"I know," Sheppard replied with an answering grin. "It's good to see you too, Teyla."
——————————————————————————————
The minutes stretched out, and the villagers settled down to wait with them, obviously even less willing to risk the dark now than before.
Teyla had quickly succumbed once more to sleep after being woken, and they let her, fingers crossed that they would succeed in waking her again in a couple of hours. McKay fell asleep immediately after having the jacket sleeve loosened and a new bandage wrapped over the saturated black fabric, and they didn't disturb him again. Despite the torches and the blankets they managed to drape on him, his temperature remained dangerously low. But, as with Teyla, there was nothing more they could do.
Ronon tried to stay awake, but it was clearly a losing battle and Sheppard finally ordered him to sleep...and the Satedan didn't argue too hard. The colonel now had three sleeping teammates all lying within inches of each other. Ronon, at one point, had slipped down so that his head was on Teyla's waist, where she slept on her side, her head still on Rodney's shoulder.
It was almost as if they were afraid to be away from each other again.
Sheppard still had his arm on Teyla's leg as he tried, valiantly, to stay awake as well. He was probably the only one to get any real sleep before this, thanks to that snake. But between the agony of having his leg cleaned and set, and the other various cuts on his body cleaned (he had a nasty head wound—who knew?), and now the pain-killers…he was having a really hard time keeping his eyes open.
But he wanted to keep watch over them. At least until Beckett came. Then he'd turn them all over.
Innis had kept him company for a while, telling him what she knew of what had happened on the ship, but she had wandered off now, probably to talk to some of the other villagers.
Sheppard tipped his left arm up, to look at the watch.
Still three hours to go.
He could make it. He would make it.
——————————————————————————————
"Colonel Sheppard? Son? Can you hear me?"
Sheppard felt something touch his face, then jostle him lightly. He felt something else lift his arm, and a soft needleprick a second later.
"Colonel? Colonel, wake up, son. We're here. Can you wake up for me?"
Gamely, John tried to do exactly that. Slowly, he blinked his eyes, trying to see through the blur. He knew it was Carson. That voice was more distinctive than anyone else's.
"C...son?"
"Yes, lad. It's me. I need to know what's wrong with you besides the leg. And anything you can tell me about the others..."
"Sir," another voice called from somewhere, "I think Ronon's coming around." It sounded like a marine, but Sheppard couldn't pinpoint who it was.
"They were both worried about Miss Emmagen and Doctor McKay in particular, Doctor Beckett," a woman said. Probably Innis.
"Carson," Sheppard tried again, licking lips that felt impossibly dry. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls. "Carson...McKay's trapped..."
"I know, son. They're going to beam him out as soon as I tell them I'm ready. He has at least two nasty lacerations that I can see. Do you know if there are any others? Or if he's injured anywhere else under there?"
Sheppard still hadn't managed to clear his vision. He was looking at the world through a strange sort of thick film. He blinked a few times. Hell, even his eyes hurt.
"Don't know. Couldn't see down his legs. Said he could move them both, though. A little." His throat was hurting now, like someone had poured sand down it. He coughed harshly at the thought, and he felt warm hands rubbing at his chest and back, tilting him up a little off his makeshift resting place.
"Okay, son, that's fine...We'll figure it out, not to worry. We're going to beam you up, now, Colonel. We'll get all four of you home, I promise."
"Wait, wait," Sheppard grabbed at Beckett's sleeve, "McKay...told me...There's a buffer," he said at last. "Need to rescue the people..."
"Innis told me, Colonel. And I know about the database as well. We've also got some folks do a quick exploration of the other decks for anything else we can salvage before we leave. It's all sorted, trust me."
Sheppard smiled at that, and patted Beckett's sleeve (or at least, what he hoped was his sleeve), before closing his eyes again. "Good man, Carson. Good man."
"I try," Beckett replied, the smile in his voice clear.
The presence lifted away, and Sheppard felt oddly colder because of it. He was about to try to open his eyes again when Beckett said something like "go ahead, Hermiod," and then the world outside his eyelids flashed bright...and everything went dark again.
——————————————————————————————
When he woke again, he was lying on a bed. One leg was elevated in a cast, and he studied it for a moment, trying to recall again exactly what he had done to it...
As he did so, he focused beyond the leg to the rest of the room...and smiled.
He was home. Atlantis's walls rose up pink and warm from the floors, and he could see a window on the far wall that showed the ocean. The sun was blazing. It was a beautiful day.
Sighing softly, his brow pinched a little when memories came back, and his heart-rate increased. Breathing more quickly, he turned his head to the left and right, searching the infirmary for...
Ronon. Right on his left. The Satedan was curled, but his feet still stuck out over the edge of the bed. He was asleep.
Sheppard smiled slightly, and looked to his right. There were monitors and machines in the way but...yes. Had to be Rodney. He couldn't see the man, but he saw a left arm swaddled in bandages. Had to be.
Which only left...
He tried to push himself up on his elbows, struggling with both the lethargy and the weakness in his limbs. He had to see...
The increased heart rate must have alerted someone, because a nurse was jogging quickly towards him. Maria. Thank God.
"Maria," he croaked, the name coming out more like a strangled moan. He coughed harshly, and she had a straw to his lips the moment he lowered his fist from his mouth. He sighed gratefully when she pulled it out, and opened his mouth to speak again, but she raised a hand.
"I know what you want to know. Ronon's to your left. He'll be fine. A few broken ribs, a very sore shoulder, and some blood loss due to that wound in his leg, but otherwise, he's all right. I tell you, he's tougher than a three-day old steak—he never had any sign of infection, almost as if he was immune to every bug in the Pegasus galaxy." She shook her head, smiling a little as she looked at the Ronon's shaped lump in the next bed. "He'll be up and around long before either you or Doctor McKay, I would imagine." She moved around behind him and leaned him forward, so she could fluff his pillows.
"Wha—" Sheppard tried, but Maria just shushed him with a pat on his shoulder.
"Rodney's to your right. Poor boy, he lost a lot of blood, and there was some worry about infection, but he's so stubborn—just refused to let it get him. He's coming back well, and will get better even faster once he wakes up fully, like you." She finished with the pillows and pushed Sheppard back against them. Then she reached down and pulled up the device to raise and lower the bed, hitting the button to raise it.
"And—"
"Teyla, well, I can tell you, we were very worried about her. From all outward appearance, that knock on her head...," Maria clucked a little as Sheppard was raised, her eyes watching his monitors as she spoke. "Well, we feared the worst, but," Maria shrugged, "when we finally got her in for a scan, the contusion was not as deep as it appeared. No sign of bleeding or hemorrhaging, just a very nasty concussion. She must have some very loving people watching over her." She smiled, and looked down at him.
"So, she..."
"Was released this morning. She's resting in her quarters—but I know that Doctor Beckett is looking in on her regularly. I imagine she'll be by to see the three of you soon enough, though. She was very worried about her boys."
Sheppard's eyebrows lifted at the phrase "her boys," but Maria just smiled at him.
"Actually, there are a number of people worried about the lot of you, including a large number of refugees. They're currently camped out on the east pier, while we find them a new home. A lovely blond young man and his sister have been by numerous times, seeking information."
Sheppard frowned then, wondering just how long they'd been there. "How long—"
"Three days, Colonel." She gripped his bare arm tightly, "For you and Doctor McKay, it was a long three days."
"Me?" Sheppard was confused.
"You got a nasty infection as well, Colonel. Your leg...," she frowned, then sighed and smiled again. "It's all right now. Everything is all right. We're just glad to have you back." And with a final pat to his arm, she twirled around and walked over to Ronon to check on his vitals. The Satedan wasn't hooked up to any monitors, so she very lightly checked his pulse using her fingers and her watch.
Sheppard watched her for a moment, then turned to look to his right. Now that he was elevated, he could see more of Rodney. The scientist's face was turned slightly towards him, his skin still looking extremely pale and dark shadows under his eyes and in the hollows of his cheeks.
He watched for a moment, listening to the monitors all around, assuring him of the life still beating within.
And after a while...without even noticing it...he fell asleep again, a soft smile on his face.
——————————————————————————————
Teyla stood just outside the edge of the curtained infirmary area housing her team, watching Colonel Sheppard's face soften as he fell back to sleep. In her hands was the jacket that they had cleaned for her, the soft green material now sporting a few dark stains that refused to fade, but she didn't mind.
She didn't mind at all.
She heard quiet footsteps come up behind her, and then a warm hand on her shoulder.
"One hell of a mission," Carson said quietly.
Teyla smiled, and glanced at him. "One hell of a journey," she amended.
He met her gaze, and smiled back, though she could tell he didn't quite understand the point of her word change. Giving him a nod, she stepped forward and headed towards the bed on the far side of Rodney. She wanted to be there when they woke up next time.
——————————————————————————————
TO BE CONCLUDED in Chapter Twenty-Six
Okay, I admit, I get a kick out of the idea of Sheppard having a bad singing voice. Hey, you don't have to sing well to be a great artist – just look at Bob Dylan, Tom Waits and J.Lo. Okay, J.Lo not so much with the other two, but you get my point. :)
Just the epilogue to go folks! Thank you for sticking with me! Any thoughts, questions, curiosities, ask me now, 'cause I'm writing it now...