Ophidia
A Stargate Atlantis Fanfic
Wednesday, 19 September 2007

A/N: Ack, I know, up really late at night (whatever happened to those updates at 4 in the afternoon?) I wanted to have this one out earlier today… Blame David Hewlett. It was his DVD I spent about two hours playing with this morning. ;) (And OH MY GOD. If you haven't seen A Dog's Breakfast… just… Go. Go watch it. Now.)

This actually is approximately half of what this chapter was going to be— there was a fairly good breaking point in there, though, and I wanted to give y'all something.

I won't guarantee the next chapter goes up tomorrow… like this one, it's fairly… gigantic. Friday, at the latest. Till then!

Chapter 34: Decision Point

"That's it?" Carson watched Dr. Lam apprehensively as she circled the surgical bed.

"That's it," she repeated, for the third time. She could understand him being so apprehensive— this hadn't been his operation, for one; she had taken the lead, and he had assisted.

The man was still distracted, even as he was replacing some of the surgical instruments, for lack of anything else to keep himself busy with— suddenly there was a hissing sound, and Lam turned to see the man shaking his hand, before pressing one of his fingers tightly with his other hand. On the tray beneath him, one of the scalpels— a clean one, luckily— now had a smear of red on it.

Lam fought to hold in a sigh of frustration, as Carson moved to the sink. "You want to take a break?" she proposed, a bit hopelessly.

And naturally, he responded with, "No, it's just a tiny scratch; besides, we've more important work to do," he added, swiftly putting an adhesive bandage over the cut before she could see just how 'tiny' it was.

"Carson." Dr. Lam stood there, staring at the man's back drolly as he returned to the surgical tools. "There's nothing more you can do for him right now."

The Scot's brow furrowed, as he turned to look at her. "Why would you say that? There's a whole bloody lot we could do for him— we have to do for him—"

"I didn't say we," Lam replied evenly.

Even now, there were more machines, more sensors and tubes— those they couldn't add before the surgery, at any rate— both doctors took a pause to watch a technician hang a new IV bag, as more staff prepared to shift him off the surgical bed and onto a clean gurney.

It was a miracle the man had survived surgery… but it was just barely, and only because of the array of technology now arranged beside him. Carson was suddenly and very keenly aware of how very close to that brink Colonel Sheppard was right now— he had gone over it a more than once tonight… and a couple of those times, Carson hadn't been sure they would get him back.

"I said you," Lam concluded at last, glancing up at the other physician, who now looked ready to rebel. "And you are going to pass out pretty soon if you don't go rest. That doesn't do Colonel Sheppard any good."

Damn it… As much as he hated it, she was right, even though Carson knew Lam had only thrown that last bit in there to coerce him into leaving the infirmary. As much as the man wanted what was best for John, he couldn't just shake the responsibility he felt. He decided to try one last time.

"You know how I hate to leave Atlantis?" Lam's eyebrows went up, questioningly. Carson regarded her a moment longer, before he went on. "It's not the City I don't like to leave behind."

She said nothing for a moment, before reaching out and placing one hand on his shoulder, slowly turning him towards the door. "Get some sleep, Carson."

Defeated, and not in the slightest bit happy about it, Carson turned and headed for the exit. Perhaps he was listening for the sound of something going wrong, and that was why he caught the beeps of the heart monitor— the Scot spun in place, about to rush back, but Lam was already in his place at Sheppard's bedside, calling for a crash cart. He had only managed a few steps before she looked up— straight at him— and called out, "Sleep." The look on her face reminded him of Elizabeth—

"Sir?"

Carson jolted him out of his thoughts, and he looked over in surprise at a young technician. "Aye, what is it son?" he asked, trying to keep the irritability out of his voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the readings off the heart monitor, which had quieted— still not quite normal, still not quite healthy.

"I thought you'd like to know," the young man said in a quiet voice, "the Goa'uld has been destroyed."

After a few seconds, the technician excused himself and returned to his duties when Carson didn't respond. Instead, he had turned to watch the colonel's still form, and continued to do so, until at last, he turned to go.

"Why do you think you felt the urge to stay?"

"I'm not sure…"

Although it was going better than his first session with the resident therapist, Carson still couldn't pull up the answers she wanted… He didn't know quite why he'd agreed to this. Oh yes, the order. Where Elizabeth had let him try to take his own time, General Landry had put his foot down— probably with the encouragement of Carolyn Lam.

To be fair, Carson had hoped Dr. Heightmeyer would be able to answer a few of his own questions, though now he wondered why he had thought she would know… all she knew, after all, was what he told her. And that was proving to be a struggle.

Kate hadn't given up just yet, though, and approached the subject from a different angle. "Do you think doctors should stop to rest when they grow weary? Even in the middle of treating a patient?" Carson's frown told her enough on that front, and she added, "Even if it could pose a risk to the patient's health?"

He seemed to hesitate. "Well, no… I mean, yes. I mean—" He gave an explosive sigh, deflating just a bit. "Colonel Sheppard is my patient— my responsibility! It… It feels like I'm abandoning that."

It sounded ridiculous in Carson's ears, but Kate thankfully didn't laugh. She nodded solemnly, ducking her head for a moment to write something down in that notebook of hers. Then, she flipped back a page or so. "Is that why… what was it you said— 'it's not the City you hate leaving behind'? You meant, the people under your care."

Nodding a bit numbly, he said, "Aye."

She said nothing for a few seconds, before she asked an unexpected question. "Why John in particular? There are other patients…"

"Why Colonel Sheppard?" Carson repeated, almost incredulously. "Why else? Look at what the man's gone through, because of— because of that thing." He couldn't hope that the psychologist had missed his slip-up, and from the way she was regarding him now, Carson very nearly sighed. No, she hadn't missed a thing.

For the moment, Kate didn't call him on it. Instead, she asked carefully, "May I ask, how have you been with Dr. Weir?"

"Elizabeth?" Carson frowned slightly. "Fine, I suppose… Why?… Ah," he said, as it finally clicked. "You mean, after our arguments. Better, I think. I still haven't talked to her about it, but…" He hesitated, before admitting, "…I'd like to. I think ought to apologize." Then he winced, remembering that those arguments had been before… Well, before she had known what he was talking about.

Nodding along, Kate jotted down a few words, before asking, "And Dr. McKay?"

An even longer hesitation. "Him too," he said at last. "We've been all right with one another for a while now, but we haven't really…" Hell, how did you explain this? We haven't confronted the fact that we each tried to practically kill each other while possessed by an evil alien, then tried to bite each other's heads off after. Sure, we've been all right for a while, but that was really only because we wanted the company of someone who wouldn't ask questions, and then we had to save the City. All's well, right?

Dr. Heightmeyer was watching carefully, pen poised just above paper. "You seem to still have a lot of guilt about all of this."

Carson made a sound of surprise, eyes going wide. Perhaps a bit unconvincingly, he asked, "What would make you say that?"

She smiled, and he could see pity in the expression. "You haven't wanted to talk about the time the Goa'uld spent within you, but you're more than willing to talk about everything that happened after… and yet, you're still upset with yourself. It's as though you want to confess. Carson," she said all of a sudden, catching his attention, "You're not responsible for what happened. Not to Dr. McKay, not to Dr. Weir, and not to Colonel Sheppard."

"Yes, well;" glancing down at the floor, Carson could help but look a bit rueful. "I'd like to believe that."

Kate wasn't to be swayed, though. "You were being controlled. It deliberately took you because it knew you could take it to Atlantis— it didn't come to the City because of you." Her voice seemed to become a bit more intense, her words more firm. "You cannot take responsibility for its actions."

"I…" God, if she only knew! Making an aggrieved sound, Carson shut his eyes tightly. If only what had happened while the parasite was in him had been the worst of it! He still hated himself for everything that had happened then, everything he'd been powerless to stop— but at least he knew in his head that wasn't him, even if he couldn't accept it. "It's not its actions that I'm talking about!" he said all of a sudden.

"Tell me, Carson," she said, voice steady and insistent.

Like a dam that had burst, Carson couldn't keep it in. "No, I couldn't keep it out of the City— but what about Rodney getting taken?!" The condemning words had been his, even if he hadn't intended them. "And worse, Elizabeth. I was the one who had let the Goa'uld go when it was in Colonel Sheppard. I could have stopped it, then and there, but instead, I let it go—" By now, he was getting well and truly worked up. "And it went on to possess her, then take Sheppard a second time, all of which culminates in the colonel being where he is now…"

Carson felt a pressure in his hand, and glanced down to find Kate squeezing it, comfortingly— he hadn't even seen her lean forward and take hold of it, he'd been so caught up. "It took those words from you," she said simply. "And it instilled that fear in you, then played off of it. Am I wrong?" she asked all of a sudden, when Carson looked like he didn't believe her.

And yet… he couldn't meet her challenge. He couldn't think of a way to respond— when he tried to envision it, all he felt was the alien presence in his mind again, controlling his body, stealing his life—

"You're still having trouble talking about it," she noted, guessing what he was thinking about.

He smiled, bitterly. "I get the feeling you would too, Kate."

The psychologist considered it for a moment, before she nodded, a sad smile on her own face. "Probably."

Carolyn Lam double checked her side tote— all of her personal medical equipment was there, accounted for. She had changed back into her civilian clothes. Now all that was left was to detour past the temporary quarters they had given her, and—

A familiar voice ordering the staff about in the infirmary caught her attention, and Lam ducked out of the office she had borrowed for the past few days. Waiting for him to reach a break, she walked out, eventually calling, "Carson!"

He wheeled around, and looked as though he were about to greet her, before his expression became puzzled at her attire. She held up one hand, ready to explain.

"I just wanted to tell you… I'm off."

Carson's eyebrows went up in surprise a bit. "When you stayed on after the other SGC personnel left, I thought it would be longer." It wasn't an entirely unpleasant surprise, he had to admit.

Carolyn shook her head once. "There's not really anything I can do that you couldn't… I really only wanted to stay until I knew you had recovered enough yourself," she admitted quietly. "And besides," she added, a bit louder, "I've got my own infirmary to get back to."

A soft smile came to the man's face. "I know. And I'm sorry for how I acted earlier… It was shameful." His expression changed; now it seemed to match his words.

Lam shook her head at his chagrin, though. "It was understandable."

"All the same…" Carson trailed off, noticing someone standing patiently behind Lam.

Noticing his attention had drifted away, the aforementioned turned to see— "Dr. Weir!"

Looking like a small child being caught, sneaking a cookie from the jar, Elizabeth flushed slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt."

"Not at all," Carolyn assured her. "I was actually just about to head out myself."

"Well then," Elizabeth replied in stride, "it seems I arrived at the perfect time to thank you… For everything you've done here."

The earnestness in the diplomat's voice made the other woman blush herself underneath the olive tone of her skin. "You all give me too much credit," she said lightly, trying her hardest not to seem embarrassed by it. Carson wanted to grin, but figured that would just make things worse.

"You sell yourself short," he said instead.

The smile he received in turn told him that Carolyn really appreciated hearing that— things had been… somewhat awkward between them over the past few days. After all, she had stepped into his position, while he was still there. All for a reason, he had to remind himself.

Stating simply; "We needed you. With a patient that critical…" Carson added, under his breath, letting the rest hang implicitly. Lam nodded, and Elizabeth tilted her head back.

"Speaking of…"

"I guessed that was what you were here for," the Scot said, glancing over at John. The way grim expression on the woman's face confirmed it. "He's not in a good way," he told her, frankly.

Lam watched quietly, ready to slip off actually, now that she pretty much had her goodbyes done. Something had her hang back though, as Elizabeth asked, with a bit of uneasiness in her voice, "How bad is it?"

"Well, you can see he's on a respirator— his lungs aren't in good condition, especially the left one, and his diaphragm's pretty weak… Colonel Sheppard's not going to be breathing for himself for a while." Carson's mouth pulled slightly to one side in a frown at the look of displeasure on his superior's face, but she gestured for him to continue. He pointed to another machine. "That there is a heart monitor— if he goes into cardiac arrest one more time, we may have to hook him to a pacemaker, ridiculous as it sounds." He was shaking his head now. "Just one organ system after another."

"Yesterday we had to start him on dialysis," Lam put out there softly, met with a look of dismay from the other woman, and a soft sigh from the Scottish doctor.

"His liver's still working, thank God; I don't think we could have done anything for him if it failed, short of a complete transplant." He sighed; "I'm afraid that's about the only good news. And even that's not guaranteed."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"His immune system's almost completely given out," Carolyn filled in. "We've already fought off one systemic infection— and another one just turned up." She seemed to sigh herself.

Leaning back, almost in unconscious denial, Elizabeth asked, "Well, is there anything we can do for that?"

Both doctors gave a negative shake of the head. "If we get him healthy, and his body starts functioning properly again, it might heal itself…" Lam said after a moment. "But at the moment? No."

"He might as well have Acquired Immunodeficiency, for all we can do," Carson added.

Elizabeth turned to face him fully. "It's not that serious," she asked slowly; "…is it?"

"In the sense that Sheppard's immune system can recover, no it's not." The woman was barely able to keep in a loud sigh of relief. "But it will have the same effect in the meantime," he had to caution, though.

Elizabeth nodded solemnly; she glanced down, lost in thought, when she noticed her watch, and her eyes widened ever so slightly. "I'm sorry," she said all of a sudden, "But I'm late for an appointment."

Dr. Lam appeared confused, as the expedition leader was already in the infirmary… Carson understood, though, and asked, "Heightmeyer?"

She nodded, and he smiled sympathetically.

"Well, go on then. Good luck with that!" he called after her retreating back. Elizabeth spun to walk backwards for a few steps, giving him a slight wave, before she turned around and was out of the infirmary. Carson continued to watch the door for a few moments, before he returned his attention to the other woman. "All right, you'd best be off as well, Carolyn." She smiled for a moment, before stepping up and hugging the Scottish doctor. He let out half a chuckle as she pulled back. "Take care of yourself."

Carolyn nodded. Then her eyes strayed to the side, and they both turned a little to see John Sheppard, still in a coma-induced peace. "Take care of him," she said, strangely quiet.

"That I will," he promised, in an equally small voice.

That had to be enough.

"What would you like to talk about?"

Kate watched patiently as Elizabeth mulled it over. They had gone over the experience of the possession— as best Elizabeth could, that was— but again, there was something that wasn't right. Maybe she wasn't beating herself up as badly as Carson had been— but then again, maybe she was hiding it very well. Kate knew that Dr. Beckett wasn't very good at concealing what he felt— Dr. Weir, on the other hand, was a politician. She had made a living being able to control and manipulate her emotions before they had come to Atlantis.

She could hope Elizabeth would bring her right to the heart of the issue, but alas, it was not to be.

"Is there something you think we should go back over?" the other woman asked, politely.

Worst kind of patient, Kate thought with a secret smile.

After a moment, she picked one of the problem areas she had noticed in their first run-through, and rolled with it. "What happened with Colonel Sheppard?"

The polite, contented expression on Elizabeth's face faded, and she let out a long breath. "Colonel Sheppard… well, there was down in the chair room…" She trailed off as Kate continued to watch her expectantly. "The next time I really saw him was when the Goa'uld…" Unconsciously, her hand tightened around the armrest she was leaning on, and the psychologist nodded for her to continue. Swallowing hard, Elizabeth pressed on. "John— or, the Goa'uld, I should say… came to my office. He… it," she corrected with a sigh.

"Just tell the story as though you didn't know what was going to happen," Kate suggested.

Nodding, Elizabeth continued. "He… said he had something he needed to show me… I should have suspected something when he wouldn't tell me what—"

"Elizabeth," Kate cut in, a bit of reproach in her voice. Then, a little softer. "You trusted John. The Goa'uld abused that trust. You couldn't have predicted that."

Just tell the story like you don't know the ending, Elizabeth reminded herself. "No… I suppose not," she admitted. "We were talking about Rodney, actually, in the halls, and he… he seemed like he was troubled. Very troubled," she amended., "but trying to hide it." She couldn't help the small ghost of a grin; it was so typical of John. "I tried to comfort him…" She trailed off a bit, and suddenly seemed incredibly uncomfortable continuing.

Kate could guess why, though. "You know, I do have your medical report… I know the Goa'uld entered through the membrane at the back of your throat," she remarked carefully. "Just, keep in mind… Nothing you say in here leaves this room."

Elizabeth shot her an appreciative glance, but all the same… She took a deep breath, before glancing heavenward, a bit helplessly. "He caught me off guard. We were hugging— don't misunderstand, it was a little awkward, but he seemed like he needed someone to lean on. Then before I knew it…" Elizabeth shook her head. "I tried to push him off of me, even a little roughly, but I guess I thought he had gotten caught up in the moment, and everything that was going on; that it was making him act out of sorts" she added with a short, rueful laugh.

Holding up one hand; "Thank you. That's good," Kate said, a bit softly, trying to calm some of the anger the diplomat had aimed towards herself. "Tell me… Do you blame John for you becoming host to the Goa'uld?"

Suddenly looking aghast, Elizabeth wasn't able to answer for a moment. When she was, she said, "No! What…Why… John wasn't in control of his actions!" she was finally able to get out.

Kate nodded her agreement. "No more than you were in control of the situation." She held up one finger to silence the protest the other woman tried to form. "Would you consider Colonel Sheppard strong enough to force himself on you?"

Elizabeth gaped for a second again, before she said, maybe a little vehemently, "He wouldn't."

"I mean physically, would he be capable—"

"Dr. Heightmeyer!"

"Elizabeth." The psychologist stared her down, until even Elizabeth's righteous indignation began to simmer down. "Would he or would he not?"

For a moment, the woman just watched her coolly. Then; "He would."

Unfazed, Kate continued. "And even if you had judged that the actions of the colonel couldn't have been his own, and tried to stop him, do you think the Goa'uld would have been capable of the same?"

The room became very silent and very still, as Elizabeth found herself suddenly hesitating. "Yes," she finally answered, in a whisper. A second longer, and Kate nodded, her determined expression giving way to a more tired one.

"Thank you… I'm sorry, Elizabeth, I know it's a disturbing thing to think about," she added, almost guiltily as the other woman winced silently.

"What? Oh… no," the expedition leader replied, a bit distractedly. "It just made me think…" She bit her tongue, wishing she could take back those words, but too late, Kate was intrigued, and giving up, she finished the thought. "It made me think of when the Goa'uld jumped back into John…" Her eyes found the floor.

So quick to take the blame onto themselves, Kate couldn't help but think. "It was no more your fault than it could be John's."

"I know," Elizabeth said, quietly, not looking up. "Still… it's a disturbing thing to think about," she quoted back to the psychiatric doctor. She knew John would never force himself onto her— but the Goa'uld had done exactly that to him, in her body. And she was the one with the memory— Dear God, after everything she'd put that man through… "That wasn't the only thing," she remarked, almost as an afterthought. "The imprisonment—"

Kate shook her head. "Again, the parasite. You can't keep attributing its actions to yourself."

"What about Rodney?" Elizabeth suddenly demanded. "I did the exact same thing to him, and I don't have a Goa'uld to blame for it."

Not answering for a long while— nearly half a minute— Dr. Heightmeyer watched Elizabeth carefully. Again, it was an instance of the parasite having manipulated all of them, and they felt guilty for not realizing it. "You did what you thought was right," Kate said at last.

Elizabeth shook her head helplessly, obviously not believing her.

A muted sigh; "Everyone looks back and asks if they could have done something different, changed the outcome of a bad situation." Kate tilted her head, trying to catch Elizabeth's gaze. "But instead of judging your actions on the outcome, I want you to judge them on your intentions."

Elizabeth couldn't even keep in the self-deprecating smile. "You know what they say about the road to hell."

The psychologist wouldn't have any of it, though. She leaned forward. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth said, sounding weary. What could she have been thinking?

"Elizabeth." The woman looked back up, to see Kate staring at her— they locked eyes for a long moment, before she reiterated her question. "What was the reason, right then and there, for imprisoning Rodney McKay?"

"…I wanted to keep the City safe," she said at last, her voice quiet.

"Did he pose a risk to that safety?"

The expedition leader hesitated. "We couldn't be sure." And because of it…

"Who did the evidence suggest?"

"Well…" She paused, before admitting, "It pointed to Rodney."

"And had he been host to the Goa'uld, would the containment you established have been necessary?"

Elizabeth frowned. "Yes," she said, though it was almost uncertain.

It was more an uncertainty about where Kate was leading her. She didn't have to wait long, as Kate concluded, "So, your intentions were to keep the City safe. You took reasonable actions to do this, supported by reasonable evidence. In the end, it was incorrect, but tell me: when during this whole ordeal did you do something wrong?" she challenged.

"Well…"

"You didn't… Elizabeth, you made a mistake, but you didn't make an error in judgment." She tried to stress this again.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say… She knew everything she had told Kate was true… And the conclusion the woman had come to was perfectly logical. But somehow, it still didn't all seem to fit. Elizabeth shook her head, prompting the other woman to sigh. "I just can't help but feel that I could have done something… differently," she said, weakly.

"…There is always something you could have done differently. Don't ask yourself that," Kate said, softly. "Ask yourself if you did what was right."

"That's the thing," Elizabeth said, sounding remorseful. "I don't know."

After a few moments, Kate smiled, almost reassuringly, but holding a kind of empathetic hurt— she saw Elizabeth's pain and felt it through her. "I do."

Still, it just wasn't enough for the diplomat. As she forced a small smile, for Dr. Heightmeyer's sake, she thought, I just wish I could be so sure.

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Air Force. Military commander of Atlantis.

Why did it seem so incongruent with the frail main, lying there on that hospital bed? Elizabeth shook her head, eyes closed, and wrapped her arms around herself. For a moment, she kept them that way, listening to the steady hum of the machines, and under that, a low thrumming that she had come to know as the sound of the City. The distant sound of the ocean , almost drowned out of the mechanical noise here. With her eyes closed, she could almost imagine the illusion of peace.

The delicate peace was quickly shattered by a distinctive, familiar voice.

"Elizabeth! I uh…" The woman in question turned to see Rodney McKay approaching hesitantly. "I didn't expect to see you here… again. So soon, I mean."

She had to smile; not all of her amusement was for the way Rodney stumbled over his words, either— he was right, she thought. She did seem to be finding her way here quite often, didn't she? But then, the fact that Rodney was there to witness it said something in and of itself…

For a while, they stood and watched their comrade together— his critical condition meant he wasn't truly able to receive any kind of visitors yet, something which had upset Teyla and openly angered Ronon. Elizabeth felt a little guilty, but that was an argument she wasn't going to win with Carson. She could, however, ignore the order herself; Rodney had obviously done the same. And she was going to have a talk with Carson, she decided.

After about perhaps a minute, the expedition leader's mind drifted back to a similar scene, a little more than a few days back, and couldn't help but smile ironically.

"Weird sense of déjà vu, huh?"

"Yeah, tell me about it," Rodney remarked, before all of a sudden, he realized what she had said, what she was referring to; he practically gasped, and started floundering for something to say, to correct himself.

Elizabeth saved him by cutting him off. "It was just a joke, Rodney," she assured him, but still, the man looked a little uncomfortable. She sighed, returning her attention to the colonel. "I'm not going to let him get hurt, this time," she murmured. The last time they had been standing like this, she was watching John get handcuffed to a gurney. She hadn't been able to watch.

She was barely able to watch him, now.

"He wouldn't blame you for any of this," Rodney said, quietly, interrupting her thoughts. "Won't… won't blame you for any of this," he corrected, clenching his eyes and kicking himself mentally. "Won't, because, y'know, he's gonna be just fine, back to perfect health in no time;" He didn't even seem to realize he was rambling. "Probably going to milk the sympathy card for as long as he can, actually."

Elizabeth smiled, as warmly as she could, arms still wrapped around herself. "He wouldn't blame you either."

Rodney stopped short, before smiling ironically to himself and glancing away. "No… no, sure… He's going to be all right," he suddenly reiterated, looking back up at Elizabeth.

"I don't know," she reluctantly admitted.

Letting out an incredulous laugh that sounded just a hint shrill; "You don't know, what do you mean you don't know?"

"Is everything all right out here?" The unmistakable brogue turned both their heads and saved Elizabeth from having to answer. Apparently, Carson had heard the two of them, and was striding in from another infirmary room. Before she could explain, though, Rodney jumped on the opportunity.

"Carson! Here, tell Elizabeth that Sheppard's going to be just fine."

The doctor hesitated, bringing a look of alarm to the other man's face. "Most of his body systems are shutting down," he said after a moment, even as Rodney gave him an inscrutable look. "He can't breathe on his own… His heart's stopped three separate times since he's had surgery…"

"And it's getting worse," Elizabeth added, gently.

"That doesn't mean anything!" Rodney's cry didn't fall on deaf ears; Elizabeth just didn't know how she could believe it any more. "Sheppard still has a chance, he's still going to make it through… Hell, they said he probably wouldn't survive surgery, and yet here he is. After all that, you can't just give up!"

"I'm not," she retorted. "I'm not giving up on John," she repeated, with a bit more control, and a lot more hopelessness. "But he's not recovering. And if it keeps like this… he's not going to survive."

Rodney predictably looked over at Carson, practically demanding that the man refute her. When the Scot said nothing, the other man shook his head, refusing to admit it. "That can't be it, that… cannot… be it."

"We're not saying it is," Carson said softly. "But there's not a whole lot more we can do."

"So… so what, we stop trying?"

"Never. But Rodney," Carson said, voice suddenly taking a note of desperation; "that may not amount to long."

The physicist turned to give his best friend a good, long look… Carson was trying his damndest to impress on the other man the reality of the situation. At last, he began to cave, and said, "He's gonna die."

Carson closed his eyes, before he shook his head. "We don't that for sure either."

"But he might. He probably will," Rodney pointed out. "And if he does, the only thing we can do is… watch him go?"

"Not the only thing."

The two men turned, starting a bit, even, to see Elizabeth standing off to the side a bit. Again, she was staring at John's still form. She almost seemed to be musing to herself, and for a long while, she didn't say anything more. Carson was just about to ask what she meant, when she turned back to them.

"I want you to wake him up. I know it may put more stress on his body, but…" She bit her lip. "Better to live for one day than to be merely alive for two."

After several seconds of silence, Carson found himself nodding his agreement. Rodney followed the movement, before he suddenly burst out asking, "Wait, he doesn't only have… one or two days… right??"

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh, even if it was a bit dry, and even Carson smiled a little. "It was just a figure of speech, Rodney."

"Oh." Then, strangely enough, instead of getting insulted or upset, Rodney cracked a grin himself; maybe it was just relief that he had been wrong.

"We should probably wait for tomorrow," Carson put in, before he sobered up quite a bit. "You realize… even if I take Colonel Sheppard out of the medical coma, there's no guarantee he'll regain consciousness."

"I know." Elizabeth's expression had become somber once more. "That doesn't change my mind." She turned and let her eyes fall on the colonel one last time… "Who knows?" she intoned. "Maybe if we give him the chance to fight, his will to live can save him."