Edited Version to fix some editing goofs, sorry! Also, another comment follows the end to address a reviewers comment.

AN: This chapter is the final installment in a story that I hope you all enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Every author I think has a story that they write, and at the end, look back and think, wow...this is only the second story out of all my previous efforts that I've had that feeling with. It isn't perfect but it really took on a life of it's own that I didn't plan on happening. I want to thank the following readers for taking the time to leave feedback. I usually do not mention individuals unless trying to respond to a specific comment, but this story has found a special place in my heart, and because of that, I attribute a good portion of the motivation and desire to do good because of the people who took the time to review and offer support and information. So Thank you:

illman

fenestrae

highonscifi

redick4

Starstruck-SheylaFan

PurpleYin

nebbyJ

LtCol Carter

SK Roberts

WriterJC

mtee 1958

Erisinia I meant to say the Stargates in space, going to edit that soon, I promise!

Antares Star

ellex

minifish

cpc439

trappedandannoyed

Espiritu

And now, on to the story, but please remember this is a spoiler for The Defiant One, and this chapter is one of the worst regarding information for the episode. Do not read this if you have not seen the episode (unless you don't mind be totally spoiled, because it will)!

Chapter Eleven

Killed By The Cure

"How is he?"

Sheppard heard the question asked but he couldn't hear the answer. He didn't need to hear the answer. He was melting in the infirmary bed, and wondered if he'd just keep melting till there was nothing left but a puddle of sweat. He itched his arm frantically, the urge to rip the skin off almost unbearable. He was hungry, so very hungry. He tried to find a sense of calm. He shifted his shoulders against the material, but the material moved with him, stuck to his sweat-slicked frame.

"Major Sheppard?"

John opened his eyes and saw Elizabeth Weir leaning over him. She looked worried, and tired. He didn't know how long they had been back. He didn't recall their arrival. He was moving in and out of a shadowy world, barely cognizant of time passing and the people around him.

Her nearness set of a cacophony of need within. He was starving. He was going to die if he didn't eat soon. His fingers twitched without thought or cause from his mind. He cried in anger and pain, and reached out towards her chest.

"Restrain him!"

Hands pushed his shoulders back into the thin infirmary mattress, while his forearms were twisted down and forced into restraints. He screamed again, an animal scream. He was hungry. Why couldn't they see that? He felt a warm hand gently brush off the trail of a tear from the corner of his eye. He turned his face into the hand, seeking comfort from the same person he'd tried to attack moments before. "End this." He whispered, in a rare moment of clarity.

Weir's mouth tightened, "We're trying Major, but you've got to hang on." She fought to maintain control of her emotions. "You've got to fight this."

But he couldn't reply because he was all ready lost, fallen back into the shadowy world of hunger that had become his own living hell.

"We need solutions." Doctor Weir was seated at the briefing table. Doctor McKay, and the other members of Major Sheppard's team were also gathered, along with Doctor Beckett.

Carson sighed, "We're trying, but this protein, it's very elusive." His people had identified the cause of Sheppard's deterioration, but that was only a small victory in the larger war. "I don't know if there is a solution."

"That's not good enough Doctor." Elizabeth reacted strongly to his words.

Carson regarded her evenly, "Doctor Weir, I don't know if there's any magic pill that will make this better, in fact, I highly doubt there is."

McKay rubbed a weary hand across the growing stubble on his chin. "There's got to be something." They had made it back to Atlantis almost twenty-four hours ago, and in that time he had watched the man, who was becoming one of the closest friends he'd ever had, degenerate into some kind of Wraith thing. It felt worse than the day his Dad had come home and told him he'd put down Duke, his Labrador. He'd never owned a dog since.

"Time is running out." Elizabeth said, "If we don't do something soon there won't be a Major Sheppard left in that body." She relived those moments in the infirmary where the man had turned into a monster, and attacked her.

"I know, but think of what we do know, the Wraith are very hard to kill, almost impossible. This protein has resisted every known antibiotic we've tried." Beckett tapped his pen against the table with frustration, "Not surprising, since it's changing the Major on a cellular level and is not bacterial in nature."

"Faking death in the Major worked before." Teyla spoke up. She had been considering all she knew from stories when she was a child. She wasn't sure what was real, or an elaborate imagination from when she was a young frightened girl. "I remember something…my Father spoke to me about this, telling us stories when we were little. Perhaps Halling would recall more."

"Any possibility would help." Beckett sat up straighter in his chair, the first glimmer of hope present for the first time during the briefing, "There may be some tale that talks about saving their people from this type of infection, much like Earth tales of curing people turned into vampires."

"Didn't they describe how to kill vampires?" Ford regarded Beckett soberly.

"Right." Beckett cringed, "Bad analogy."

"It's a valid point, even if a poor comparison." McKay said, "Teyla, talk to Halling, the Major's time is running out."

Teyla stood, and nodded in one fluid motion, heading towards the control room to make contact, and hopefully find the answer to save their friend.

Elizabeth stared at McKay, "Rodney?" She was seeing a side to McKay she hadn't known was there. He had taken charge, moved them forward, and though she would have preferred he waited for her okay, she could understand the emotions behind his actions.

McKay seemed to realize he'd gone over her authority, "Oh, sorry."

"It's okay." Elizabeth smiled, "This time." She would have to talk with Sheppard about McKay's assuming the leadership role. She had all ready given him control over expeditions within the city. Maybe it was to think of giving him more practice as the person in charge, she needed more than one backup to be prepared to take over in case anything happened to her or Major Sheppard. The stark thought hit her that Sheppard might not be available if they couldn't save him hit her like a ton of bricks. Hang on Major, she prayed to herself.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

Beckett glared at Rodney, "It's not safe that's the point."

"Oh, right."

"Halling told Teyla that he could remember his father telling him the same stories, and that they saved their people by immersing them in the river, until they breathed no more, then brought them forth to the fire, and they were cured." Beckett reiterated what they had been told a short while before.

"Modern interpretation, they drowned the people, then revived them by heating them up." McKay said, his annoyance with medieval ignorance apparent in his tone.

"Something like that." Carson confirmed, "I'm going to go with it being the cold, not the drowning itself. We're going to lower his body temperature until he's clinically dead, then hopefully bring him back to life, the same way we would a severely hypothermic patient."

"Did you know a person can survive a cold drowning?" McKay had grown up in Canada, falling through the ice was a common danger. "There was this kid that was under for over half an hour, and they revived him."

"No way." Ford spoke up from a chair beside the bed, "That's crazy."

"It happened, I read about it in the Canadian Medical Association Journal." McKay said defensively. "Seriously."

"You read the CMAJ?" Beckett asked, incredulous, "You're a physicist, not a medical doctor."

McKay shifted uncomfortably, "I'm always concerned about advances in the medical field. I like to be an informed consumer."

"Doctors!" Weir interrupted further discussion, "How long before we know?"

That drew their attention back to the figure on the bed, covered in a cooling blanket, with wires and tubes poking out from under it in every direction. The blanket hid the black restraints, but they knew they were there.

"Hours, it depends on the person, how rapidly their body cools." Beckett replied, "I'll let you know as soon as I know."

Weir nodded. She wanted to stay, but the city didn't shut down because one life was in danger. There were many tasks she had to oversee, and she could only hope staying busy would keep her mind off of the fear for Sheppard's life. "You do that." She left the room, stopping outside the door and taking a moment to collect her emotions. She hadn't felt this worried since the bug had first latched on to Sheppard, and here he was, fighting for his life again because of it, she only hoped he'd win this time as well.

"Doctor, here are the latest test results." A friendly nurse with blonde hair handed a handful of papers to Beckett, who was reclined in a chair, feet propped against an empty bed near Sheppard.

Carson sat up, blearily focusing on the numbers. "It's working!" He crowed.

Figures slumped over in various locations sluggishly responded to his words. McKay was one of the first to gather his body from a dead sleep to a somewhat alert state, "It's working?"

"Yes!" Beckett jumped up, and peered over at the Major, noticing the reduction of green pigment in the Major's skin, and a lessening of redness around the initial bite location.

"How long has he been under?" McKay asked, referring to the clinically dead, hypothermic state.

"Forty minutes." Beckett answered after checking his watch, "We'll begin warming him, but it'll be a slow process."

"We'll he be okay?" Ford couldn't see how a body could be dead for that long and still be all right, regardless of the science behind it.

"I don't know son." Beckett answered truthfully. They had taken a huge leap, but ultimately the Major was going to die, which was the better way? In an attempt at a cure or doing nothing till his friends had to act or he managed to harm someone? He hoped this worked, because if it didn't, he'd have to face the fact that he'd ordered Major Sheppard's death.

"Major, you need to wake up." McKay stretched his long legs. He ached to the core. They'd taken up vigil once the Major had been certified warm and alive. It had been touch and go, something he hoped to never relive again, lasting longer than the time on the Jumper when his heart had fought to cooperate with Beckett after previously being shocked by Ford. "We need to make sure you didn't lose a few marbles." He cracked.

He'd hoped the joke would jolt the Major awake, that Sheppard would respond with some equally droll remark, and he'd pretend to not be amused, but the figure remained quiet, lying still under the sheet like a shroud of death waiting to be buried with the dead.

He sighed, and rubbed his knee some more. He wasn't good at this. He didn't know what to say. Carson had said to talk to him. Somehow it seemed ridiculous to tell him that it was another sunny day on the beautiful world of…hell, they hadn't even named this planet.

They had been taking turns keeping watch. Ford had gone first, then Teyla, and now it was his turn. He didn't want to be here as much as he did want to be here, talk about conflicted. "Major, don't do this. Wake up." He found himself saying. "I don't know if I can handle losing another so soon after…" His voice cracked before he could say Brendan's name.

The mission report for that debacle had been cold, impersonal. He had stated the facts. Doctor Gaul used the weapon to end his life, thus allowing me to save Major Sheppard. His sacrifice allowed me to play a part in saving the Major's life, delaying the Wraith's attack, and allowing the rescue team the time required to fire on the Wraith, saving both of us. What he didn't say was the horror he'd felt over Brendan's actions. He understood why, but he couldn't forgive himself for the small part he had played in his death. Brendan had been right; the Wraith had left him with just enough life so they'd have to watch him die. He wasn't going to get better, he wasn't going to walk away from it, and adding to his guilt was the silent relief that Brendan had ended both their suffering.

"Damn you, wake up!" Rodney snarled, giving in to his anger and feelings of helplessness. He instantly felt contrite, yelling at someone who couldn't defend himself. He closed his eyes, and tried to gain control. He opened them again, and regarded Sheppard with a wearier look than before. "Why won't you just wake up?"

Later that night, long after McKay had surrendered his vigil to Beckett, Sheppard did wake up.

"That's good, open those eyes Major." Beckett coaxed.

Sheppard was trying, he really was, but his eyes felt like someone had glued them shut, and it was taking more effort than he thought possible to do something so simple as open them.

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." Carson instructed him. That he could do. He felt the warm hand slide over his, which must be the Doctor, and he squeezed for all his worth. He knew it was a weak grasp, but he managed it nonetheless.

"Good." Carson said relieved, "That's very good."

Sheppard didn't think he could do much more, all ready he felt himself drifting back asleep. He tried to fight it, wanting to know what had happened, but it was as if a heavy weight was dragging him back down.

"Rest Major, you'll feel better next time." Carson reassured him, and now he knew there would be a next time.

He stood up, stretched, and waved a nurse over. "Watch him, I've got some very good news to deliver."

"Should you be up?"

Sheppard was on the balcony, watching the gentle waves, giving in to their hypnotic effect on his soul. He felt washed up, wrung out, and in need of a long vacation. "Beckett released me this morning."

"You didn't answer my question." McKay pointed out, coming alongside of him.

He hadn't, for a reason. Beckett had released him to his quarters with instructions to stay down for at least another day. He couldn't help it. He needed…he didn't know what he needed, but he knew he didn't need another twenty-four hours in bed. "No, I didn't."

"You're looking better."

"Hell McKay, I could be recovering from a three-day binge and look better." He barked, laughing at the absurdity of the statement.

"I was trying to be polite." McKay said stiffly. "If you want honesty, you look terrible."

"Now there's the McKay I've come to know and love."

Rodney narrowed his eyes, "You want to be alone." He observed. "I'll go."

Sheppard turned away from the lull of the waves, "No, McKay…look, I'm sorry. I'm just…still trying to wrap my mind around what happened."

McKay was quiet, the silence awkward. "Brendan said that to me before, before he…before he killed himself on the Hive ship." He finally spoke, rushing it out before he could think twice and take it back.

Sheppard looked at him, puzzled, "Said what?"

McKay faced him, "Save the day. He said, Go Rodney, save the day." McKay's emotions were raw and naked between them, "And then he shot himself."

Sheppard cringed. He remembered his words to McKay on the ship…let you have the honor of saving the day… "Mckay, I'm sorry…"

But McKay was gone. Sheppard released a frustrated breath. Damn.

THE END

PurpleYin, yes, I purposefully left it open like this, for two reasons. I want the reader left with this sense of unsettledness. It isn't finished, after all, it never is on the show. And, it does leave the door open to pick back up with another story addressing the issues that happened in this story. And last but not least, I went back and fixed some editing problems I missed the first time around, if I missed more, don't stone me!!