Ok my bad! Sorry for the long delay folks, RL got in the way! I now have it bound and gagged in the cellar, but the pesky bugger keeps bloody escaping!! This is a short one, more coming soon I swear! Although the story seems to be evolving as I write it….

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The light was back again, more subdued and solid then before. Half asleep Sheppard's face screwed up in confusion, something wasn't right; there weren't any windows in his quarters. The major cracked open an eyelid and with dismay felt his headache returning. Rubbing at his eyes he realised his face was drenched with sweat; he didn't feel exactly peachy either. He shifted suddenly aware his back ached and his butt was numb; he'd be lying in the same position too long. Memories of the previous days activities drifted slowly back.

Opening his eyes again John stared at the unfamiliar stone ceiling and listened to the room. Behind him he could hear two people breathing, one in the regular rhythm of sleep, the other shallow and ragged. He rolled his head to the side and watched rain falling through an open window. It had no glass or wooden frame and vines crept around its edges but never inside, not even a stray tendril. Strange the things you notice; he stored the strange fact away for later.

Closing his eyes once more Sheppard gathered his strength, put his good arm beneath him, the other was strapped to his side, and forced himself to sit. For a moment he sat with head in hand and tried to remember who'd hit him and exactly why he was trying to get out of the nice warm bed. Ignoring all the bits that didn't like the idea, John forced his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet connecting with the cool stone floor finally registered the fact he wasn't wearing any clothes.

"What are you doing?" Sheppard's head snapped up to find Erin staring at him from her place at Beckett's bedside. He felt heat rushing to his cheeks and pulled the blankets a little more securely over his lap.

"Erm...where are my clothes?"

"You don't need clothes to rest." Sheppard ignored her and doggedly began to gather the blankets around his waist.

Erin was on her feet before the Major got halfway to his. It quickly became all too apparent that half way was about as far as he was going to get. Dilemma, do you keep hold of the blanket and preserve modesty, or stop yourself falling flat on your face which has gotta hurt? Never mind being able to tie shoelaces or button your shirt, having one hand at the moment really sucked.

Sheppard was saved from embarrassment or further injury as Erin caught the stricken man and with surprising strength gently lowered him back onto the edge of the bed. He looked up to find she was on the losing end of trying not to laugh.

"Nice to see I'm so amusing." He grumbled and only served to make Erin giggle.

Grumpily gripping the edge of the blanket, he gathered it into his lap again, but found a smile pulling at his own lips despite how wretched he felt. The girl reached out a hand and touched his forehead again, her face remaining neutral this time.

"You had a light fever from infection, but it has passed." She announced, answering his unasked question.

"How do you do that?" He caught her hand as she pulled it away.

"Do what?"

"Make me feel...better every time you touch me?" She pulled her hand free and ignored the question, turning away. He moved to stop her, making it to his feet this time.

Erin turned back and grabbed his arm, steadying the Major and shook her head as if at the foolishness of a child. She reached for the blanket this time, which Sheppard had a death grip on.

"Don't worry I won't look." He looked at her sincere face, realised how totally ridiculous the situation was and let Erin take hold of the blankets, transferring his grip to her shoulder.

Carefully to save the stubborn man further embarrassment, she gathered up the long trail of blanket and flipped it over his shoulder. "I believe you will find that a little easier."

"Thanks, I feel like I should be singing Harri Krishna now but it keeps me honest." He flippantly joked.

"Harri Krishna?"

"Never mind."

"So what next...Major?"

"Call me John or Sheppard if you prefer."

"John...so will listen and rest?" John looked purposely over at Beckett, and felt a burning need to reach the doctor's side.

Without being asked Erin lead him, step by painful step to the chair beside his friend's bedside. John felt sweat trickle down his back from hobbling no more then a few steps and fought to catch his breathe. She was right; he really wasn't feeling up to a stroll, not even a crawl really, never mind being out of bed. Soft moans pulled his attention to more important matters.

If John felt bad, Beckett looked worse, his skin was an unhealthy ashen and bathed in sweat. The blanket rested half way down his chest revealing the broken arrow shaft packed with bloodied bandages. He wasn't a doctor, but he knew the signs of infection when he saw it.

"Its too deep, we can't get it out." If it weren't for his concern, the mind reading thing would really be starting to piss him off about now.

"Don't you have a doctor or something?"

"We have healers, but no skilled surgeon. Trying to cut it out would likely kill him."

"Leaving it in's not doing him any favours." Sheppard regretted his words immediately, anger and guilt making them harsh. Damn it why couldn't they have just stuck another arrow in me?

"What will happen if you don't get it out?" He asked softer, knowing the answer.

"He will die." A deep rumble answered from the doorway. The major looked up to meet the solemn eyes of Erin's father.

"If not for my daughter he would be dead already, but she is…stubborn..." His light tone did nothing to dispel Sheppard's anguish.

"Push...it...through." A weak voice declared from the bed.

Three sets of eyes fell on the Doctor's ice chip blue. They were filled with pain but clear and coherent.

"What Doc?"

"Push...it through." Beckett whispered, another wave of pain washing over him. It subsided a little as a cool cloth mercifully wiped across his forehead.

"You have already lost too much blood and the arrow could have pieced your lung." Erin whispered. Sheppard watched suspiciously as she lightly rested her hand on Carson's chest, wiping the rag across his face and neck. The moment her skin touched his the doctor seemed to get a little stronger.

"No lung...no choice...push it through."

"Hold on a second, why can't we just pull it out?"

"The arrow is barbed and buried deep, we can not pull it out and even if we could it would do more damage and kill him swifter." Khlan supplied.

"Will ya just...listen...whose the doc...tor here?" Sheppard grinned despite himself.

"If we push it through we could bury the infection deeper, or he could bleed..."

Beckett cut her off. "Willing...take risk...if it gets this bloody thing...out."

Beckett found himself staring at the beautiful young woman whose hand currently rested on his chest. Carson would probably have felt embarrassed and terribly shy if he had the energy. She'd been sitting on the edge of his bed before, when he'd awoken briefly in the night. For a moment Beckett had wondered if he'd died and she was an angel. But then the pain had made itself known and shattered that pretty illusion. He'd returned to oblivion with her lovely green eyes for company. Now he realised warmth seemed to radiate out from her touch, in fact he could have sworn it hurt less to breathe the minute she touched him.

"You heard the man." John didn't feel the confidence in his voice.

His gut tied itself in knots at the idea of what Beckett wanted them to do, but he was right, they didn't have a choice. If Ford got the rest of his people through the gate then at least Weir would know they were in trouble, even then there was no guarantee of a rescue anytime soon.

To Be Continued…