Chapter 6

Beckett was appreciative of Tayla's and Ford's work on the wound. They had done a good job of stemming the blood flow. His patient had been immediately wheeled into surgery and slapped down on a gurney under glowing yellow lights. The bullet had found its way into the Major's appendix, which was easily removed. The blood he lost was easily transfused in. The stitches were easily sown in place. Yet, the patient had not recovered. In fact, there were no signs of recovery. The fever burned the body, as chills shook it.

He stared down at the military man. Anyone in the Major's excellent physical condition should have recovered. And yet, there were no fluttering of the eyes, no attempt to seize consciousness. Beckett prayed silently that it wasn't a coma. Three days after surgery...the patient should have woken up.

Weir watched in disgust as Mckay swallowed half a corn dog swimming in chili.

"Don't look at me like that. I haven't eaten real food in three days. Nothing would stay down."

"You're going to make me loose my lunch."

"Not hungry? Mind if I have some of that...ah...is it ceaser salad? Because I only like ranch."

Instead of responding she shoves a forkful of ranch dressed lettuce in her mouth.

"Ah. I'll just go get my own then."

She nodded as Mckay and his empty tray headed toward the mess hall.

They were in the infirmary, watching the Major sleep after some tests Carson performed on him. For some reason she couldn't tear herself away from John's bedside. Beckette even brought her food, and unfortunately Rodney as well, whom he found in line for chili dogs.

The Major couldn't wake up to eat with them. Then again he didn't need to. He was connected to a feeding tube, a venalator, pain meds...and Weir realized the real source of her nausea. John shouldn't have to go through this.

But that was one thing that comforted her. He was going through this. Carson said his brain waves were steady and that "the Major" was still in there.

Elizabeth swallowed the growing lump in her throat and put down her food. She couldn't eat, who was she kidding?

If you can't sleep, you can't eat, and you can't think.

And you don't know why you can't.

Beckette thanked the nurse for the results on Sheppard's blood test. He held it up next to Mckay's. Once again the doctor had been right. Sheppard should have recovered from the bullet wound. It hadn't struck any vital organs. But the damage wasn't the impact...it was the actual bullet.

Sighing, he glanced over at Weir holding Sheppard's hand. From across the infirmary he could see her blink back tears.

There had to be a cure.

But none came to mind.

The bullet, according to the data, released a stream of poison. The same poison that Rodney ingested.

He watched as his newly recovered patient took Weir's salad and ingested 2/3 rds of it in one bite. Definitely healthy.

"Rodney come over here."

"Sure."

"You have an artificial version of the ancient gene, and less of it than Sheppard, ay?"

"Yes."

"So if he had been exposed to the poison, he'd be dead. Instantly."

"Yes. Is that it? Because I have lots to do," he said as he eyed the remaining leaves of the salad.

"No. Listen. The bullet had the poison in it... released it into his system...and I don't understand why he's not completely dead."

"I threw it up...and felt really bad the whole time till it was out of my system. Maybe, I could give him some blood or..."

"No...no, you have different types. But you are on to something. Did you fight the poison or did you throw it up?"

"Umm..."

Carson looked squarely at McKay.

"What I'd do for a sample of those leaves..."

McKay diverted his glance.

"What I'd do for a sample of those-"

"Oh I heard you doctor. Fine. Fine. It's in my vest pocket. How did you know?"

"I know you too well."

"And...er...how exactly are you going to test this idea of yours? On that mouse you injected right? The one you tested your gene experiments on?"

The doctor let out a laugh.

"No, Rodney, no. I'm afraid they died from another little-ay-regrettable experiment."

"Then what are you going to use?"

The doctor let out a laugh again and asked Mckay to select a hospital gown in the color of his choice.

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