SAMARITANS Part 6
A/N: thanks to all you wonderful folk out there for reviewing this, it keeps the plot bunnies hopping.And thanks to B7Kerravon for the loan of Dr. Lawrence.
Stormy Weather
"What is it with the Pegasus galaxy and storms?" Sheppard asked himself out loud. "God dammit." He added realising he would have to break up the bonfire beacon from the beach and carry it up to the cave to keep dry.
The Major would also have to get in a decent supply of water in case they were holed up for a while. A second glance at the sky showed how little time he had left as the storm clouds had advanced rapidly; the sea taking on a leaden quality, which looked unreal. Gathering up armfuls of wood, he forced his numb leg to move as fast as it could up to the cave. By the time John had brought up all the wood, he was exhausted, his leg would barely work and he still needed to fetch water. Beckett was awake, not quite with it, but enough to know something untoward was going on.
"Wha's happenin'?" he asked.
"A storm's coming," panted Sheppard. "I had to bring all the wood for our beacon up here to keep it dry, gotta go get some more water." He limped over to Carson and leaned down to collect his canteen, then John found himself on the floor beside the doctor.
"Major?" asked Beckett sharply.
"Nothing," lied the Major. "Just…just tired. Gimme a moment." For a few moments John lay there, dizzy, trying to catch breath that didn't want to come, then gradually he felt better, and sat up. Carson was looking at him owlishly.
"You alright?" the doctor asked.
"I am now," The Major replied breezily. "Really. How about you?"
"Oh, just dandy," was the reply, rather ruined by the harsh cough which accompanied it.
Sheppard bit his lip. He really wanted to get Beckett the hell out of here, somewhere with proper medical attention, not his bodged first aid and now this storm…
"Ok," John said, prepared for now to take it on face value. "I'll go get us some more water, then we hole up and wait for the storm to pass."
Carson nodded and lay back, face twisted at the pain movement caused. Sheppard looked at him again; decided time was wasting and pushed himself up, bracing his leg to prevent it from giving out. He looked at the charred remains of the limpet creatures he'd tried to cook earlier, but realised in all honesty, the way he was feeling, they probably wouldn't have stayed down long anyway. Limping, Sheppard made his way out of the cave and down the path into the rapidly darkening day.
Dr. Weir stood by a gurney in the infirmary, where McKay was resting. Once again, the physicist had managed to injure himself attempting to activate an Ancient device which had promptly blown up in his face. Dr. Lawrence had given him some initial treatment, but McKay was now insisting that Dr. Beckett be brought back to treat him 'properly'. Gauze pads covered Rodney's eyes, the skin beneath the bandages and all over his face reddened and beginning to swell ominously. Dr. Lawrence was attempting to apply burn ointment to the area but Rodney was being his usual obnoxious self, eventually demanding that the physician stop and await Beckett's return.
"This will help," said the doctor, exasperated.
"So you say, but while I appreciate your help, it stings and I want Carson. Elizabeth, you said yourself that Beckett should be called back."
"Yes, I did, but he went to help a more isolated community, he's out of radio contact."
"That was days ago! Carson should be back here now, to help people here who get into trouble."
Elizabeth's face twitched, but she kept her voice even when she said, "I suppose it is time he was back and with the Wraith coming it wouldn't hurt to have Major Sheppard back on base either."
"Exactly." McKay's voice was smug.
Weir turned her attention back to Dr. Lawrence. "Despite what he says, you're doing just fine. I'll go and see if the Marasians can call Major Sheppard and Dr. Beckett back early."
Dr. Weir left, Lawrence couldn't help but sigh with relief in anticipation of the Scotsman's early return. Really, it had been a trying few days with Beckett gone. "Dr. McKay!" he rapped out smartly. "Keep still. This wouldn't be half so painful if you didn't wriggle..."
Maroni was working at his desk, when his secretary interrupted him. "Forgive me sir," he said, "But a message from Kathlos has arrived. They are asking if you sent the Atlantean Doctor? It would appear he has not arrived yet."
The Marasian put down his pen and looked perturbed. "They should have arrived yesterday as arranged." He paused, and then added "I will speak to Kathlos myself."
Several minutes later, he returned looking even more worried. "No one has heard from them since they left and neither has there been any contact with Darlen. Are we able to contact the people of Atlantis?"
"I do not think so."
"Very well. Have someone wait by the Stargate in case they try to contact us. Let me know as soon as they do."
The secretary nodded his assent and left to send a messenger. Maroni sat back in his chair and stared out of his window at the sea, his expression one of deep concern.
Beckett sat by the fire, feeding it occasionally with bits of wood. He hated being like this, hated hurting and not being able to help. He knew he was in trouble, his leg was definitely infected, his medical training recognised the smell, thank God not gangrene, but still… the Major was doing his best to keep them alive, but Beckett knew there was something more to Sheppard's own condition as well and he could do nothing to help. Carson was trying to stay positive, but now a storm? What was with this galaxy and storms, he thought, unconsciously echoing Sheppard's own earlier. Despite his best intentions to stay awake and be more helpful when John returned, Beckett's eyelids began to droop and soon the doctor was sleeping again.
By the time Sheppard made it back to the cave with the water, the wind was almost stronger than he could stand up against. Horizontal rain had soaked the Major through and he was shivering as he piled more wood onto the fire. The numbness in his leg was worrying, as was the deep throbbing pain that was spreading up into his groin. He wasn't worried so much for himself as for Beckett. If he should become incapacitated, then the Scot didn't stand a chance. There wasn't much going for the doctor now, but the odds would shorten even more if he was out of the running. The Major had been concerned that he hadn't managed to bring back as much water as he wanted, but with the amount that was falling out of the sky, he should be able to collect enough in the limpet shells to keep them going.
Once John had managed to get his breath back, he checked on the doctor again, mouth tightening in worry at what he saw. The light in the cave was dim, the only illumination coming from the fire, but even in that poor light, Sheppard could see Beckett was getting worse. His friend was trembling, shivering, and only half aware, his face flushed and sweaty, the bruising melting into the florid colour of the man's face.
Scooting over, trying not to put much weight on his own injured leg, Sheppard put a comforting hand on the doctor's shoulder.
"How you doing, Doc?" he asked.
"Is tha' you, Major?" replied Beckett. "Wha' happened ta tha lights? Ah canna find ma medical kit. Where is it? Did Rodney hide it?"
Stomach clenching with worry, Sheppard tried to reassure him. "You lost it when we went into the water, Doc, remember?"
"Ah didni like swimmin'. Why would ah go inta tha water? Where is it? Where tha hell is it?"
"Easy, Doc, it's ok, you didn't lose it…its back in Atlantis," John hoped he was saying the right thing.
"Back in Atlantis? Where are we then?" Beckett's voice trailed off into a paroxysm of coughing.
"Aaah crap…hurts…" he gasped when it was over. "Where are we? Wha's happenin?"
Sheppard swallowed, feeling fatigue and dizziness sweep over him. He rubbed his free hand over his face, grimacing when it scratched against a day's worth of beard. "We're on Marasia," he reminded the Doctor. "Remember, we came to help them?"
Beckett looked at him blankly for a moment then wiped his own hand shakily across his face. He closed his eyes wearily, "Sorry, sorry," he whispered, "Ah remember, vaccinations…"
Another paroxysm of coughing shook him, Carson clutched at the Major grimly until it was over, then lay back spent. Sheppard helped Beckett with the canteen, water soothing the doctor's parched throat then both men sat back, listening to the howling wind outside the cave and prepared to wait out the storm.
TBC
