Chapter 4
Waking up in the infirmary was never fun. It was something he'd never expected to know as one of the great truths of life, but here he was, again, waking up in the infirmary.
He stared at the ceiling, knowing - from experience he never intended to have - that sooner or later all the balls would drop, his ducks would line up, and he'd remember exactly what happened to land him and McKay in here again.
McKay.
He tilted his head one way, then the other, and stared down between his feet. Memory returned. Then worry. Then deep alarm, verging on panic. He was the only one there.
"McKay?" His voice was hoarse from disuse.
He coughed, cleared his throat. "Carson? Anyone? Where's McKay?"
He kept looking around, and the line between alarm and panic had almost vanished by the time Beckett - scrubbing one hand over his face as if roused from a nap - headed down the row of beds towards him.
"Where is he?" His voice was rough, harsher than he'd intended. Carson moved to stand by the bed, and his hesitation wiped the line out completely. Something inside curled up hard and cold.
"You're not going to tell me he's dead," he said firmly, helplessly, knowing if that were the case denial wasn't going to help.
Carson drew a breath. "No. He isn't. Exactly."
Beckett had been rehearsing this for hours, what he'd say, how he'd say it. Now he was for it, and it all vanished like the mist.
"John, he was beyond our help. He was in pain, dying, and we'd done all our technology could do." Sheppard's face grew frighteningly blank, and he hastened to finish.
"We put him in stasis."
"Like Elizabeth?"
He nodded, but Sheppard's face grew colder.
"Couldn't help him, so you tossed him in the freezer..."
"No! John, I said he was beyond our technology. Not beyond the Gou'ald's."
The Major blinked, and the mask lifted slightly. "I thought they were the bad guys."
Carson stared at him a moment, then shook his head at his own denseness.
"I'm sorry. I forget sometimes you're new to all this." He busied himself removing the IV. "The System Lords are what the SGC have been fighting all these years. But there are other Gou'ald who call themselves the Tok'ra. They're allies, and they have all the abilities of the Gou'ald."
He wrapped the tubing up and took the bag down. "They can use all the Gou'ald technology - including a healing device that I've see work wonders. Elizabeth sent the request just after we took him down."
"Work wonders," Sheppard repeated flatly.
"John, it's not a guarantee. I would be lying if I said it was. But we're not giving up."
Sheppard nodded. "He isn't, either."
Beckett gave him a tight grin that didn't reach his eyes, and it served to remind Sheppard he wasn't the only one concerned.
"You'll recover, by the way," he commented, not surprised he hadn't been asked yet. He knew Sheppard's first concern would be his friend. "It'll be a while till you can safely move much, though. Had to use a clot buster drug, and you've had four units of blood since. There was a clot in your lung, but it's gone; I won't bore you with details, but you'll be here several days at least."
Then his comm chirped.
Sheppard tried to hitch himself up, butthere was a stiffnesswrapped around his hip, and it made it hard to move. Beckett went white, listening, and glanced at him before tearing out of the infirmary like the hounds of hell were after him.
"Beckett? Beckett! Damnit, what's going on!"
He dropped back, knowing it had to be McKay, and that it couldn't be good. Smashing his fist into bedding did nothing to relieve his frustration, and he shot a look over to the side table, almost hoping to see something breakable - he saw better. His comm.
By dint of a bit of squirming, he managed to grab it. Clipped it into his ear. And felt the colour drain from his face, too.
He lay in bed, eyes distant, as he listened. The stasis chamber was failing. There had been no response from SGC, the time calculated as possible for the earliest arrival had come and gone. Zelenka had been on the horn, demanding another generator - the one powering the living quarters had been detached and was being rushed down.
oOo
His incapacity was unendurable. He'd been lying there, listening, for almost an hour, while only a few floors away McKay's life was ending. He was dying. Not alone, at least, but he knew - he was certain if he were there it would make a difference, buy some time. They'd held on together through so much. He had to get down there. It was a physical need.
Beckett had removed the IV, and he'd discovered he could actually slide up on the mattress by dint of concentrated effort. It meant he wasn't actually restricted - except he couldn't sit properly, couldn't walk. If he could make it to a wheelchair he couldn't actually get down there.
He'd gone through the proper channels, tried to explain, tried to get the duty nurse to help, but to no avail. The best he'd gotten was that she'd find Teyla or Ford and send them down, so if the worst happened someone from the team would be there - as if they weren't there already, Sheppard thought bitterly. If they weren't, he could've called them, gotten their assistance - but he couldn't make it.
Not in time. Not alone.
Frustration vented in a wordless roar.
"Major?"
It was Halling. He remembered - once the Athosians in the city had heard of McKay's condition, they'd mounted a sort of prayer meeting.
"Halling? Listen, I need help."
"I shall call someone."
Sheppard met his gaze. "No. I need your help."
oOo
Ford showed up at the door, out of breath, generator on the cart.
"Over here," snapped Kavanagh, and Zelenka slipped behind the panel, tester in hand, worried. It was a theory, a nasty little thought that had crossed his mind, and one he hoped would be disproved…
"Boze," he swore softly. "Dr. Kavanaugh. It is not only the generator." He peered out. "It is the transformer."
"Well, you can replace it, can't you?" Ford asked.
"If we had another one, yes."
"It's finely calibrated, and designed for this pod only," Kavanagh disagreed, sounding for all the world like a lecturer. "When it fails, the field will fail. We can throw power at it from now till doomsday. It won't make any difference."
Ford stood stiffly, at attention. "How long."
"Got me." Kavanagh wandered over and stood, hands in pockets, surveying the man inside the chamber. "Didn't think it would end like this, I have to admit," he said calmly.
It was apparent Ford was containing himself by main force, and Zelenka stepped in.
"Perhaps you…should contact Teyla," he said quietly. "And inform the Major."
oOo
Sitting hurt like hell, but he gritted his teeth and reminded himself he'd felt worse. The 'when' escaped him, but he knew there had to have been a time.
Halling looked at him with concern, but he shook his head, gripped the armrests of the wheelchair till his knuckles turned white. "I'll be ok. We've gotta go."
oOo
Carson read the monitors with growing concern. The faltering field seemed not only to be removing support for McKay, but actually beginning to have a negative effect.
"We're going to have to pull the plug and get him out," he said finally. "Radek, give me a hand. Dr. Kavanagh, be ready on my signal."
oOo
Teyla met them halfway down, eyes widening at the sight of Sheppard in the chair. She stepped up to Halling.
"Please go to the group and tell them the hour is near. We will work for his recovery, or ease his passing. I will take the Major down."
Halling nodded. "Be well, Major. We will not rest until this is over."
He nodded shortly, appreciating the thought, knowing that miracles took believers. And right now a miracle was the only thing that would help. He gritted his teeth, the pain in his hip was growing.
oOo
"Cover him. We can at least keep him warm."
Zelenka started from his reverie. McKay's body had been so light, he was musing. It was as if he'd already abandoned them, left only his husk behind, breathing, heart beating, but there was no sense of him, nothing of what made him the man he was could be felt.
He nodded and helped Beckett snug several blankets around the physicist. Beckett had started an IV - with difficulty - and was injecting something. Zelenka eyed it and raised a brow.
"Painkiller," the doctor said softly. "I don't want there to be the chance of him suffering."
He nodded, looked at Kavanagh, who merely returned the glance.
"I believe I am no longer needed," he said, with dignity, and left. Zelenka made a move to stop him, but Beckett shook his head.
"He's right, Radek. He can't help, you can't, hell - I can't."
It seemed so…final. Zelenka stared at McKay. "He's come up with so many last second answers. It is not right that we should not be able to do the same for him."
Beckett sighed. "So much of this isn't right. I've stopped keeping track."
Zelenka began to detach the generator, wrap cables. He was deep in thought, but a voice brought him back.
"Carson?" It was Sheppard, in a wheelchair.
"Damnit, lad - I left you for a reason!" Beckett trotted over. "Get him on the gurney, Teyla - give me a hand. That wound is in a bad place, you could damage yoursel' worse... Do you want to be crippled?" He slipped one arm under one side, and Teyla mirrored the movement on the other. Between them, they lifted Sheppard to the gurney, and Beckett wrapped a blanket over him. "What are you even doing here…oh." He'd seen the comm.
Sheppard tapped it. "I had to come, Carson," he said flatly. "You were wrong to leave me behind."
Carson closed his eyes a moment, recalling the cave. "Aye," he admitted heavily. "I was. Come, let's get you a bit more comfortable, and then you can see him."
Zelenka could see the pain in Sheppard's face, and it had nothing to do with the wound.