PARADISE
By NotTasha

PART 12: AFTERMATH

They'd carried McKay back to their little camp, moving as quickly as they could – but Rodney had suffered for the move, and was pale and gasping again by the time they'd settled him near the fire. Sheppard did what he could to stop the bleeding, as he'd gone against his better judgment to keep everyone together, and ordered Teyla and Ford to go again for the forgotten water. He worried from the moment they'd gone – listening for any sound of gunfire, of insidious laughter, listening for the cries of his friends, remembering how he'd heard McKay's shouts – he'd been so far away.

Teyla and Ford kept their radios on, and he listened to their breathing, straining to hear anything that would forebode danger. But what good would that do anyway?

If Aiden and Teyla were hurt now, there was nothing he could do for them – he had to trust that they'd take care of each other. He knew he couldn't leave McKay now – not like Teyla had left him earlier. How could she do that? Didn't she realize what would happen? Sheppard had closed his eyes, trying to quiet his thoughts – drive them from his mind. He didn't need to be consumed with these feelings right now – he had to help Rodney.

"Is it bad?" McKay had asked, his eyes looking unnaturally bright against his pale complexion as Sheppard cut away the sleeve of his shirt.

"Looks like you got bit up," Sheppard said, trying to sound easy about it.

"Hurts like … hell…"

"I bet," Sheppard commented, his voice distracted.

"I don't do well … with pain," McKay confessed breathlessly, ashamed of his admission.

"Who does?" was John's response, trying to sound calm.

The wound at his shoulder looked nasty – puncture wounds front and back, bloody and torn. Everything would be okay, Sheppard told himself. Yes, everything will be fine. We'll take care of this. But how? Goddamn it, they needed Beckett!

In a perfect world, Dr. Beckett would come strolling up the beach right now, barefoot like Crusoe's Friday and maybe sipping a Mai Tai or some other frou-frou drink with a parasol. He'd take care of everything. Heck, that would be better than Glinda.

Sheppard swallowed, wishing he knew for certain what to do. God, if only Beckett were here! If they only had some decent supplies -- plenty of good water and bandages. Sheppard would have to rely on his first aid training; he couldn't recall if Sgt. Bishop covered animal bites -- certainly nothing was said about demon dogs from hell. At least Sheppard knew enough to set a piece of firewood under McKay's feet to elevate them, trying to keep him from going into shock – but now he had to get that bleeding stopped, and to clean up the wounds.

John opened the first aid kit and drew out a triangular bandage. It'd do for this purpose. He stated, "I'm not going to sugar-coat this. It's going to hurt like hell. You ready?"

Rodney gave him a pleading look that seemed to say that he was nowhere near ready, but he gave a short nod and closed his eyes.

Sheppard crammed the wadded bit of cloth against McKay's torn shoulder.

Rodney made a pathetic yelp, then bit his lip until the skin beneath his teeth turned white. He reached one hand up to clasp onto Sheppard's arm, but did nothing to shove him away. As John pressed on the wound, Rodney's grip became tighter, and he snorted breaths through his teeth.

Sorry, Sheppard thought. Sorry…How long do I have to do this? Why can't this be over! Has the bleeding stopped? God, I'm sorry, Rodney.

McKay continued to take hissing breaths, as Sheppard leaned his weight on him.

John glanced up, his eyes scanning the forest, then dropping his gaze to the Life Sign Detector. The thing was too riddled with dots to be of much good. He allowed himself only a moment to decide that nothing was moving at them, before he returned his attention to what he was doing.

It took so long. Sheppard didn't want to count how many tries… how many times he stopped, thinking he was done and had to press down again, making McKay whimper through his clenched teeth. "Almost done," he kept saying – wishing it were true.

Rodney had gone white by the time Sheppard finally stopped the torture, finding the blood flow substantially reduced. The major sat back, panting almost as much as McKay.

Teyla and Ford returned with the large pot of water. They set it on the fire, and Sheppard sent them back for another for drinking water. Rodney watched their movements through hooded eyes. The water took forever to boil. Teyla and Ford came back with another. They drained off as much of the sediment as possible, added the water purifying tablets, and boiled it again. By the time they were done, the liquid looked almost clean.

Sheppard did the dirty work. Ford acted as nurse, getting whatever Sheppard called for. The young man was nervous, but efficient – seeming to prefer following Sheppard's latest order to sitting still, waiting and watching. The major ordered Teyla to guard duty. They used the water and then the antiseptic from the first aid kit, and finally bound up the bite wounds with not enough gauze.

McKay said little through the ordeal, answering questions, but otherwise his attention was focused elsewhere.

By the time Sheppard was finally satisfied with the work, the day was half over, and McKay was spent. He was breathing shallowly, not seeing them, hardly hearing them.

"Go to sleep," Sheppard ordered.

McKay offered only a quiet, "Okay," and drifted off, leaving the rest of them to deal with what had happened.

Teyla apologized, profusely. She wasn't supposed to separate from McKay. They were to stay in pairs. No one would be left behind. Sheppard had nothing to say to her, leaving her to guard duty. "She probably saved your life," Ford told him quietly at one point, but Sheppard didn't see a fair trade in that matter.

McKay slept in fits, awakening often with a jerk, as if the animal was still attacking him. Someone had to stay near him, to calm him down, to reassure him. Teyla tried to take that duty, but Sheppard found her other tasks. She realized the rebuke, but kept her mouth shut, taking on any responsibilities that Sheppard would offer her.

At one point, Teyla produced a pocket full of fruit pits and shells that she'd taken from the caverns. She stated that the people in the caves seemed to have subsisted on the foodstuffs for some time. It would be safe for them to eat as well.

So she went through the samples they'd collected earlier, splitting open the fruit, compared seeds and chose what two fruit that she knew they could eat. Wordlessly, she served up what she'd discovered and, wordlessly, they sat around the campfire, eating strange-tasting fruit for dinner. Once that was consumed, she searched the surf for snails.

Sheppard and Ford guarded the camp and watched over McKay, trying to reassure him when he woke in a fright. It wasn't always easy – it seemed to take longer every time to calm him. "He's got a fever," Ford told Sheppard, as if it were a surprise, but Sheppard had been expecting and dreading that fact. There would have to be fever, wouldn't there?

The fever increased as the sun sunk lower in the sky.

TBC
A/N: hmmm... okay, it can't get any worse than this... can it?