Ophidia
A Stargate Atlantis Fanfic
Tuesday, 4 September 2007

Chapter 25: Ethics

Weir strode into the infirmary, wondering what was so urgent that Beckett needed her there immediately.

However, all other worries were cast aside as she crossed paths with one Rodney McKay, and froze in place. He went by her a few steps, before pausing and doing a double take. Meanwhile, Weir continued to stare at him in apprehension, prompting him to try and start explaining. She cut him off, however; "Carson?" she called, a note of alarm in her voice.

"Elizabeth?" he replied, his voice equally filled with concern. However, as the physician ducked out of his office, he tilted his head back in appreciation of what was going on. "You don't have to worry," he assured her, striding towards the front of the room.

Turning her head towards him, but not taking her eyes off of McKay, who was beginning to look unnerved at her continued suspicion. "How can you be sure of that?"

"Oh, now that is completely unfair," McKay said, unable to take it any longer. "You let Carson off the hook—"

"Because we had proof that the Goa'uld was in someone else," Weir reminded him, before looking at Beckett incredulously.

"Aye," Beckett said softly, the look on his face telling her that something wasn't right.

Her breath caught in her throat. "No…"

Even McKay began to shift uncomfortably, his eyes falling to the floor. Beckett gestured towards a bed where Sheppard was laying. "You need to see this."

The three of them clustered around the unconscious form, and Weir let her eyes run over it, scrutinizing him closely, looking for some clue. Beckett, however, was a step ahead of her.

"I've been postulating that the creature is weakening every time it takes a new host."

Weir's eyebrows shot up appreciatively. "You think so?"

McKay began gesturing with his hands, going over the symptoms he recalled— apparently, Beckett had gone over this with him. "Yes, yes, uh, less superhuman strength, shorter time outside a host, lessened ability to suppress said host—"

"And an inability to heal injuries properly," Weir filled in.

Beckett nodded an affirmation. "That's right. It's also part of the reason I thought it could still be in Rodney…" The woman saw an uneasy glance exchanged between the two, and wondered what had happened that she was missing. "Now in the case of the colonel—"

"No, no no no, wait," McKay interrupted, his brow furrowed in thought. "Sheppard was stopped with a Wraith stunner, he shouldn't have any injuries."

"Not from that," Beckett corrected, his voice seeming oddly tight. "This," he said, pulling the colonel's head slightly forward and to the side, enough to reveal a still-pink scar. He let the other two process it for a few seconds, while he lowered the colonel's head back to the pillow gently. He could see both visibly pale; Weir was finally coming to the same conclusion— that Sheppard had undeniably played host to the Goa'uld.

For Rodney, though, it was hardly a surprise. "Ronon and Teyla said he didn't give any sign he was, um…"

Weir looked over to McKay. The man trailed off, looking a little lost, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to will some comfort to the man. "It may already be in someone else," she suggested.

He tried to smile in gratitude, but the weight of what was being presented… God, what did he have to smile about? This was his fault!

A soft cough from Beckett interrupted McKay's thoughts. Having reclaimed his audience's attention, he continued, though he now seemed to be speaking almost reluctantly. "Now, it still seems to have the capacity to deal with injuries while it's in the body… It's when it leaves that things get interesting." Beckett glanced at the other two, who nodded, despite their concern. Himself, he had to swallow hard and force himself to continue. "The entry and exit wound the Goa'uld left on me healed relatively quickly, suggesting that as it departs it leaves behind some kind of chemical or enzyme that speeds the process. Rodney's, on the other hand," he said, gesturing to the other man, "were still bleeding by the time we reached him."

"Yeah," McKay cut in again, brandishing his bandaged arm, "and they haven't completely stopped, by the way."

Beckett ignored McKay's complaints for the time being which made the man huff irritably; even so, Rodney couldn't completely conceal the worry he was feeling. And Beckett sighed, knowing he was about to make it that much worse.

"Sheppard would be the parasite's fourth host— at least. There's no possible way it could have healed the wound to this extent unless—"

"Of course," McKay said quietly as he realized where Beckett was going with this. He turned to look at the doctor, wide-eyed, for once wanting nothing more than to be completely wrong, only to see Beckett staring grimly back at him. "It's still in him."

Weir had recoiled a half step; she entirely missed the exchange between the two men as she came to the same inescapable conclusion Rodney had— and the abhorred look on her face proved it. She hesitated a moment longer, watching the colonel's still form before tapping the radio at her ear. "I need a security team to the infirmary."

Beckett held up his hands to placate her. "Relax, Elizabeth, I've got him sedated."

"Yeah, but for how long?" McKay asked, his voice bordering on shrill and expression incredulous. Beckett gave him a long look, but Elizabeth held one hand up to halt any reproach.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Rodney," she said, gently. "It's only a matter of time before the sedative wears off, and we have no idea when that may be. Besides," she added, forestalling a protest from Beckett; "We can't keep him permanently sedated. Eventually we're going to have to talk to the Goa'uld if we're going to convince it to leave him." She cast another pensive look at Sheppard.

For a moment, there was a silence between them. "So," McKay said, strangely quiet, "Should we move him back to the, uh…" He gestured back towards the back room where he himself had so recently been imprisoned. It was the closest bed with restraints on it.

Beckett followed McKay's gaze, before shaking his head slowly. "I'd prefer to not keep him in the infirmary, since he has no other injuries that need tending." Weir's scrutinizing gaze fell on him, and he glanced away. It was a valid reason and she knew it. His personal apprehension had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all, he whispered in his mind.

A strange, tense silence fell over them. "So what happens to Sheppard now?" McKay's voice was tight, and Beckett gave him a sympathetic— and apologetic— look.

"Well, we've contained the parasite. I suppose it's safe to contact the SGC now; no doubt they'll want to deal with it on Earth," Beckett replied, after Weir gave no answer. In fact, she seemed startled at Beckett's suggestion.

"Earth? Couldn't they do it here?" she asked, an unintended note of rebellion leaking into her voice.

Despite his misgivings, the doctor could sympathize; looking at McKay, he could see a similar expression on his face. The possibility of letting their teammate into someone else's hands in such a state— "They are the ones with the equipment and experience in these matters," he admitted. It was hard to openly say it though; he might as well yell, I can't take care of the people I'm responsible for, the people I care for! There were few things harder to swallow than that for a physician. All the same…

It seemed to bring no ease McKay or Weir, the latter of which he could tell was uncertain of the next move she should make. It was a strange thing to watch, but both men could understand.

"We don't have to call the SGC," McKay started without warning. "Look at how many scientists we have here, you think we can't come up with a solution? You don't have to cart him off through the 'Gate," he added, trying to keep the anger from rising into his voice; "Not without even trying!"

As he finished those words, without warning, a security force led by Major Lorne stormed in, and Weir hastily held up a hand to slow them. "Ma'am?" Lorne asked, striding over to where the three senior personnel stood, eyeing McKay for a second longer than the others. Their expressions, and his unconscious CO brought him to a halt. "Colonel Sheppard's not—"

"I'm afraid so," Weir said, loud enough for the rest of the security detachment to hear. She turned to Beckett; "Carson?" When he didn't respond, she pressed further for a decision. "I'm deferring to you on this one."

The doctor hesitated; he didn't know what to do in this situation any more than she did. Inwardly, he kicked himself. He was being weak-willed and indecisive and he hated it. It's under control… there's nothing to fear… Yet every time he looked at Sheppard, he found the first thing that came to his mind wasn't concern for his teammate, but revulsion. I can't keep doing this… I'm still the Chief Medical Officer. I'm still responsible for taking care of them. He took a deep breath, mulling it over before exhaling loudly. "All right." He gestured to Lorne and his team to move closer. "We'll move him to a prison ce—"

"Carson?" McKay suddenly called out, his voice an octave higher than usual. Both he and Weir had backed away from Sheppard. A glance down at the aforementioned revealed that he was starting to come to, as he shifted in place. Only Beckett crying "Wait!" stopped the security team from jumping on the man. "Just restrain him where he is. He'll be easier to transport on the gurney."

As the three civilians moved back to let the military do their work, Weir murmured to Beckett, "Is that going to hold him?" They watched people pull out handcuffs, securing each of the colonel's limbs to the rails, for lack of anything else. Beckett offered no answer— he had none to give.

None too soon, as Sheppard began to actually wake. "Mm… wh…where?" he slurred. "Carson?" he then said, sounding more lucid. The CMO froze, unable to tear his eyes off of the colonel. The security team backed off a step, bringing their weapons to bear on him; the movement caught his attention and his eyes snapped wide open. "What the hell?"

Beckett snapped out of it, glancing to Weir, who was looking on with a pained expression as Sheppard tried to push himself up and realized he couldn't. None of this sat well with the doctor, but he saw little alternative. The same seemed to be true of Weir, who turned her head, unable to watch.

"What's going on," Sheppard demanded, his voice hoarse, curling upwards, only to have one of the guards push him back down. He twisted away, his face contorted in anger. "Get off of me!" Another stepped forward to assist the first, and Sheppard began to struggle in earnest. It was then that he took notice of Beckett, Weir, and McKay. "Carson!" he called again. "Elizabeth, Rodney— what's going on?!" Clenching her jaw, Weir walked to the opposite side of the room. Sheppard's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Elizabeth!" As yet another set of hands tried to push him down, he slammed his body to the side, catching the marine with a headbutt and breaking the young man's nose. He staggered back, but the other three practically jumped on top of Sheppard to keep him from lashing out again.

Deciding this had gone too far, Beckett strode to a nearby cabinet, pulling out a needle and vial, drawing some up— trying to ignore the tremble in his hand. McKay, who had been staring in horror, took a moment to notice what Beckett was up to. When he did, he stepped between the man and the now screaming colonel. "What are you doing? Elizabeth said—"

"I know what Elizabeth said," Beckett said, giving McKay a reprimanding look. "It'll only keep him out for maybe twenty minutes. Just long enough to move him," he muttered. Without waiting for McKay to move, Beckett walked around him and over to Sheppard. "Hold him still," he declared, holding up the hypodermic needle and tapping the air bubbles to the top.

The shock of seeing someone whom he thought would help him trying to sedate him froze Sheppard long enough for the four guards to get a good enough hold on him that they were able to keep him pinned as Beckett put the needle to his arm. "Carson, what are you doing?" He tried to squirm away, but Beckett had already gotten it in. He jerked his arm, eliciting a sharp pain in the crook of his elbow.

"Hold still," Beckett repeated, voice cracking the tiniest bit.

He glanced back up to see Sheppard, no longer thrashing around, but still resisting. Slowly, his tensed muscles began to relax, and the security detachment eased off of him; all the while, though, he held Beckett's eyes with his own, silently questioning why? Beckett continued to watch, feeling suddenly helpless, until the other man's eyelids had fluttered shut and his breathing slowed. Then, he let his gaze fall to the floor. The parasite is trying to trick us into thinking it's gone. Even when he repeated it silently, time after time, it didn't make him feel any better.

He had thought he would gain satisfaction from being in control of the situation. Instead, Beckett just felt like he had stabbed Sheppard in the back.

From where he was standing, McKay was experiencing a similar dejection. Not certain what to do, he turned, looking around the infirmary, looking anywhere but at his friend. It upset him, not only to see Sheppard like he was, but to think that… thing… was in his head. It was also an unnerving reminder of what he himself had gone through. What was it now doing, what horrible things had it conjured up in some living nightmare for its latest victim?

His eyes then fell on Dr. Weir, still standing apart from the commotion, facing away from everything that had just happened. As he watched, she bowed her head, rubbing at her temple. Unsure of what he could say, but still feeling like he should say something… McKay walked over, gently placing one hand on her shoulder. She started at first, twisting to see who it was, but then gave him a thankful look.

"He'll be alright, Elizabeth."

She held his stare for a long moment, before bringing up her own hand and resting it on top of his, turning back towards the infirmary exit. Not wanting to pull his hand away, McKay instead stepped closer, coming up beside her— in time to see a small, strange smile on her face.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, completely baffled at her expression. She turned towards him, and he saw a sadness in her eyes, though the smile didn't disappear.

"I'm trying to make myself think positive, Rodney," she said by way of explanation.

"How's that working for you?" Through the sarcasm, there was a little… what, hope?

Her smile took a more rueful turn. "Not that great."

"Yeah well…" He mumbled under his breath, "I fail to see what about this could possibly be construed as positive…"

Elizabeth paused before responding. "We've finally isolated the parasite. We've stopped it from jumping between hosts. And," she added, a bit more uneasiness to her words, "maybe it's for the best that we caught it in John."

McKay gave her a disconcerted look, unconsciously pulling away from her. "What?"

Despite being the one who said it, Weir looked like she was struggling to accept it herself. "I know it sounds terrible, but… John is strong. If that thing really is getting weaker, well," she said, getting worked up; "He might just have a chance of beating it," she added, now staring into McKay's eyes again, imploring him to agree with her. He licked his lips, suddenly aware of how dry they were, and tried to say something, but… Weir watched him, eventually realizing that he wouldn't answer and nodded, resigned.

The sudden clatter of the gurney being wheeled past distracted the two for the moment, They watched it disappear with two marines and Beckett around the left hand corner.

"…He would rather take this burden on himself, than put it on anyone else," Weir said, not taking her eyes off of the opening that her coworker and friend had just been taken through. "I know he would. He did that for you, Rodney." And then, she too departed, turning right as she left the infirmary, opting for a longer route that meant she had no chance of running into that gurney again.

"…Yeah," McKay said to himself with a sigh. "I know." Glancing towards the beds, where a nurse and Lorne were seeing to the marine with the broken nose, and then towards the exit, McKay started in that direction. He hesitated for a second at the doorway, before turning left.