Rodney sat in Elizabeth's office, staring down at his hands. He knew she wanted to talk about what had happened in the Gate Room. He didn't want to talk about that. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to grab his crutches and hobble out of there as fast as he could. But he just sat there, waiting for her to speak.
Elizabeth sighed softly, her gaze steady on Rodney as she stated, "I sent Bates out with a team."
"You did?" Rodney's head shot up in surprise.
"I did." Elizabeth looked uncertain for a moment then her gaze hardened. "The Wraith don't usually stick around after culling, so I deemed it safe to return."
Rodney was pleased by that, for all of ten seconds. "That's...that's good, I guess. It should have been sooner though."
Elizabeth let her eyes close briefly. "I know, Rodney. I wish it could have been sooner, but it still wouldn't have been soon enough."
"Yeah...I guess not." Rodney didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to remember the sight of Ford, resting on his side, P90 at the ready, given them all a chance to escape. They had left him there. Alone. "There's stuff I need to be doing in the lab," Rodney said, as he pushed himself to his feet, one hand gripping the chair for balance as he reached for his crutches. He was klutzy as hell on the damn things, but at least they made him mobile.
"Don't work too hard, Rodney," Elizabeth called after him.
Rodney sighed. There was no such thing. But instead of going to his lab, he took a detour to the infirmary. Major Sheppard was still out.
Teyla was released the afternoon of the following day. But she did not leave the infirmary. Not at first. Instead she sat in a chair next to Major Sheppard's bed and said a few prayers, in the way of her people. One of them was a prayer for the major's recovery. She knew it would not be easy, but he would not be alone.
Rising at last, Teyla bent over him, letting their foreheads touch briefly, feeling the heat of his skin against her own. She knew he was battling a fever, knew that his body would be weak and that he would hate it. But his spirit was strong and she knew that he would find a way to get through what was to come. But it would difficult for them all. Their unity had been shattered. Teyla knew that John Sheppard was the center core of Atlantis. That everyone looked to him to be the heart, soul and strength of Atlantis. If he shattered, they would all fall to ruin.
Closing her eyes against the sting of hot tears, Teyla slipped away. She had more prayers to say. For those they had lost.
John felt disoriented. Something had awakened him. Voices. It took a moment to identify them. One was Beckett and the other was McKay. That sounded about right. Except hearing Beckett's voice usually meant only one thing. John let his eyes flicker open. Yep, he was in the infirmary. He closed his eyes again, letting himself remember what had happened. It was better than staying trapped within the dreams that had haunted his sub conscious mind, even while sedated. And John knew that he had been sedated, he was all too familiar with the after effects. Cotton mouth, muscles that felt like lead, and a fuzzy head.
"I think he's awake."
"Aye."
John had hoped to go unnoticed a while longer, but he turned his head and forced his eyes fully open as he watched Beckett and McKay approach him.
Carson was smiling. "Welcome back, Major. How do you feel?"
"Sluggish." John knew enough to give Beckett something to work with. Denying his symptoms always made things worse. He lifted a hand to scrub at gritty eyes and realized an IV was taped to the back of it.
"You're dehydrated and battling a bit of an infection," Carson explained, without being prompted.
John nodded and regretted the motion. Pain stabbed in his temples and his fingers moved to massage them.
Carson was watching him. "I can give you something for the pain."
"It's fine." John didn't trust Beckett not to give him something strong enough to knock him out again. "I'd like some water."
"I got it." Rodney was closest to the bedside table and he balanced his crutches under his armpits as he grabbed the water glass and held it out to Sheppard.
John took it, gratefully. "Thanks." After a few sips his throat felt less like sandpaper and he handed the glass back, then he forced a smile. "How are you doing, Rodney? How's the ankle?"
Rodney shrugged. "It's annoying, but it could have been worse."
"Where is Teyla?" John remembered hearing her soft voice, as if in a dream. He turned his head, searching the other beds for her.
"I released her a few hours ago," Carson replied "She needs to take it easy, but she'll be fine."
John was glad to hear that. It helped that Rodney and Teyla were going to be okay. "How long was I out?"
Rodney winced and didn't answer.
Carson cleared his throat then replied, "About twenty-seven hours."
"What?" John was stunned to hear it had been so long. Too much time had passed. He started to throw back the covers when thick fingers gripped arm. John looked up and glared at Beckett.
"You're not going anywhere, major," Carson stated, firmly. "You'll be here a few days."
John opened his mouth to argue but clamped it shut. He pulled his arm free of Beckett's grip and made the effort to still the anger that had flared up inside him like a white-hot flame. Getting angry wouldn't help. John took a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly then he forced a smile and nodded at Beckett. "Sorry." He saw the surprised look the doctor exchanged with McKay and was rather pleased at himself for catching them off guard.
Carson moved to check Sheppard's IV then said, "It's all right, Major. Just rest. I'll send for some soup and you can eat a bit then sleep. It's what you need most."
"Can I speak with Dr. Weir first?" John requested, and he saw that surprised Beckett. Rodney too. Although he thought it shouldn't have.
"I'll get her," Rodney offered, as he shifted on his crutches then headed out, knocking a basin off a nearby tray table as he hobbled by it.
Carson moved to pick it up then he returned to Sheppard's bedside. "Can I get you anything?" he queried.
John shook his head. There was nothing Beckett could do for him now. Weir was the only one who could make things happen and John's fingers plucked at the blanket as he felt another flare of anger. He fought to control it. He had to keep his cool. He had to make her understand this time. Ford's life depended on it.
"I'll go send for that soup then," Carson said softly. "Call if you need me."
"I will," John promised, not looking up from the blanket. But after a moment he let his head fall back against the pillow and closed his eyes. And the image burned into the inside of his eyelids was Ford's face. There had been trust shining in the dark eyes. Trust and pain. Ford trusted him and Sheppard was not going to let him down. He was going to bring Ford home.
"Major?"
John started at the sound of Weir's voice beside him. He opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. She looked nervous and uncertain and that surprised him, but he could worry about that later. "Doctor," he replied. "You need to send a team for Ford. Send Bates." John paused as Sgt. Bates suddenly appeared beside Weir and John realized he had been there all along.
Elizabeth reached out and touched Sheppard on the arm. "Major...I already sent Sgt. Bates back for Ford," she said softly.
"You did?" John was surprised by that. She had been so determined to keep him from going back before. He could still here her words echoing in his head. Acceptable loss, Major.
"I did." Elizabeth looked grim and then she turned to Bates and nodded.
John watched as Bates moved to his side. Then a hand was being held out towards him and dangling from the palm were a pair of dogtags. John knew what that meant. He felt his throat tighten and he shook his head a moment. He did not want this to be real. For a moment he simply stared at the tags, but then his own hand was reaching out, fingers curling around the chain, and the jangle of the tags was sharp in his ears as he closed his hand into a fist. John locked eyes with Bates. "What happened?" He had to know.
Bates cleared his throat then gave his report. "The planet was deserted when we got there. We found the ruins and located Lt. Ford's remains. We brought him back to Atlantis. I thought you would want the tags, sir."
"Thank you." John's voice was hoarse to his own ears then he remembered something. "We need to put a message together for his grandparents, for when we're able to contact earth."
"Already taken care of," Elizabeth replied. "There's going to be a memorial service in a few days. As soon as you're out of here, Major."
John nodded but he had already tuned her out. He closed his eyes and tightened his fist, feeling the edges of the silver tags digging into his palm. He had failed Ford. That was all he could focus on at the moment. He heard Weir speaking to Bates. Heard her say goodbye to him and then they were gone. John didn't open his eyes. He just lay there with the last image of Ford dancing in his head. Mocking him.