Friendly Fire
By: Antares Star
Chapter Six: 10-44
PG-13: For character whumping, blood, and language
A/N: Thank you everyone for the kind reviews. It's gonna get a bit more complicated from here on, so hold on to your horses!
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Sheppard was dreaming, and it wasn't pleasant. He was fighting for his life. He could barely keep up with his opponents. They just kept coming, one after the other. He'd beat one back just to turn and slug another. Their faces where blurry but began to sharpen into focus. John slugged one enemy particularly hard, followed him to the ground and wrapped both hands around his neck. The air was choking out of him and Sheppard grinned. The face cleared and he leapt back like he'd been burned. Rodney was on the ground staring at him with blank eyes and blood pouring from a chest wound. He smiled.
"Nice one John, wanted to kill me did you?"
The face changed to Teyla. "I always knew you didn't trust me."
Elizabeth's face was next. "Want to take my place that badly John?"
He awoke with a start, sweating and panicked. A monitor next to him was screaming and a flustered nurse was bending over him, hands pressing down on his chest. "Oh, Major Sheppard! Sorry, you wouldn't wake up; you were having a nightmare." John took a deep breath and willed himself to relax. Just a dream, a damned dream. "Your heart rate's too fast, try to relax." She stuck a thermometer in his mouth.
Sheppard tried to control his breathing, wishing the nurse would get her hands off him. He was shaking and felt jittery, but at least his entire body was no longer numb. After checking over him briefly she said, "Major, you need a full night's rest. You have five more hours of prescribed sleep; I'm going to give you a mild sedative, okay?" She removed the thermometer, seemed pleased with the reading.
He attempted to sit up, feeling inordinately pleased when he managed to jerk his legs a bit. "No! I don't feel like sleeping. Who the hell prescribed that? What the fuck are you doing?" She injected the IV that was pocking from him, yet he couldn't feel it. Sheppard wanted to jump up and shove that needle in her damned arm, but couldn't convince his muscles. Everything quickly faded to black. His last thought was of how scratchy the material of the hospital gown felt. Huh, he didn't remember feeling that earlier.
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Carson and Lydia had been resting relatively quietly for going on three hours. Völker was left to watch over them as his coworkers experimented with treatment options. It was difficult, no one knew what to expect since they where dealing with alien venom. The patients' sleep was fitful and their temperatures towered around 105, much too high. They'd been given a cocktail of ibuprofen and other fever reducers, anything stronger would be too risky at this point, but it hadn't been affective yet. He had to get their fevers down, and it looked like the old fashioned method was the only way.
"Well, there's nothing else to it, let's try some ice." The wounds had been iced steadily since arrival to slow the poison, but now it was time for more drastic measures. Nurse Jennings helped him roll each patient so they could lay cooling pads underneath. Next, they placed coldpacks around the patients. Carson flinched away from it when a pack was wedged behind his neck. He jerked awake with a surprised gasp.
"Carson! It's good to see you awake."
Red-rimmed eyes took in everything around him. "Infirmary?" He whispered hoarsely. Völker nodded. Carson was shivering so badly his voice stuttered. "Bloody freezing in here. Hans, what the hell are ya doing with that?" He vaguely watched as Völker maneuvered a pack against his armpit.
"Carson, you have a fever, we need to get it down."
"You're mad, it's baltic in here." With uncoordinated efforts he removed the bothersome pack and tossed it aside. Völker returned it and placed Carson's hands firmly at his sides. His eyes began to water; the ice was so cold against his hot skin that it stung.
At that moment the doors whisked open as Rodney and Teyla entered. Seeing Carson aware, Rodney let an uncharacteristically candid smile take over his face. Teyla nodded fondly at him, "It is good to see you awake Doctor Beckett. Is it permitted we stay with him at this time?"
"Of course, he could use the distraction, right Carson?" Völker raised his voice, trying to get a response.
Carson didn't answer, he was too busy wondering what his idiot staff was doing giving him frostbite. He frowned at the coldpack shoved in his armpit, "I thought I moved ya."
Rodney whispered to Völker, "He's talking to the ice. Is that bad?"
Struggling harder to shrink away from the cold, he whispered blearily to the pack, "It's beyond my ken how so daft a man is a bloody doctor." Völker looked uncomfortable even though Carson was clearly not thinking straight.
While Teyla stroked Carson's forearm, Rodney lightly commented, "And it's beyond my ken how some sheep-herding highlander is one either." Carson squeezed his eyes shut, seemed not to even hear him. He dug his heels into the bed. His back tensed and he let out a frustrated groan when it didn't relieve the iciness cutting into him. Rodney felt uncomfortable, almost wishing he hadn't come down to visit. Teyla however was familiar with this practice since her own people used it in similar situations. It was quite uncomfortable at first, but the good results outweighed the discomfort.
Resigned and exhausted, Beckett finally relaxed onto the bed and surrendered to the stinging cold. He wanted to scream, cry, anything to release the pressure that was building in his body. The pain seemed to accumulate instead of lessen. Surely it wasn't ice around him, but acid. His breath hitched and began to come in gasps.
Rodney looked worriedly over his shaking form at Völker. The German shook his head regrettably. "I hate to do this to them, it's certainly an uncomfortable procedure but I was worried they might go into seizures or develop heat stroke symptoms with temperatures so high." Lydia hadn't even stirred, had taken the treatment without a twitch, which actually worried Völker far more than Carson's reaction.
A moan from Carson confirmed his disagreement with the treatment. In a slurred voice he whispered, "Be useful and bring me a blanket." Rodney tensed uneasily, thinking the man was speaking again to his armpit coldpack. However, Carson rolled his bright, feverish eyes up to Rodney's face entreatingly. "Rodney?"
"Me? Uh, well." Rodney felt guilty but could do nothing. He remembered after his episode with Kolya, Carson had done everything he could to help even though he'd been barely conscious himself. "No can do. Doctor's orders."
"I'm the bloody doctor." Carson shot daggers at them all. He wasn't used to being on this end of an injury, and frankly didn't enjoy it at all. Tense minutes passed in silence, with Teyla continuing to stroke his arm comfortingly. He finally stopped writhing in discomfort, although his trembling didn't abate. He seemed more aware although his breath came in fits and starts as he asked quietly, "How…Lydia and Major Shepp..." Before getting the answer he drifted back into a restless sleep. A sigh of relief went up from everyone, and the temperature readout was a healthier degree.
Rodney immediately turned to Völker, fingers dancing nervously against his thigh. "Okay, now answer his question, how is everybody? Is he gonna be okay? What about Sheppard?"
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Ford and Teyla met in Dr. Weir's office. She stood and greeted them, then got right to the point. "The doctors inform me that they are stuck developing any type of medicine to help the patients. They need a live sample." She watched them for a reaction, knowing they'd immediately pick up on what she meant.
Teyla spoke first. "Do you wish for us to return to the planet and attempt a capture of the creatures Dr. Weir?"
Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded. She hated to send them, hated to put anyone else in peril but knew her people's lives may depend on it. "You leave as soon as you possible. I want you to take any and all precautions…the last thing we need are any more wounded."
"Understood ma'am." Ford was just glad he could do something to help. The memory of their recent debriefing had been very unpleasant. He could hardly believe his ears when Teyla told her story. Everyone had been shocked. It was hard to envision Sheppard beating up on the good doctor. Yeah, he'd get one of those nasty buggers if he had to drag it back by its slimy fin.
An hour later found them back on the planet, thankfully the rain had ceased and the water receded somewhat. "Okay, let's do this." Ford stepped onto the muddy ground first.
"We shall have to return to the river." Teyla led him to a gorged river tucked amidst the thin forest.
"Okay, set it up here." They placed a large net they'd finagled together into the water. Ford crouched and slowly poured a vial of blood they'd been given into the water. "Come to daddy."
They waited. The water was flowing quickly, and the blood would already be downstream. "Damn, this won't work." Ford muttered. Despite this, the water began churning, almost like it was boiling. The telltale dark shapes were now visible. "Wait for it."
With no warning, one of the sharks leapt from the water, heading straight for Ford. He yelled and ducked away. It landed on the ground and flopped pathetically, talons digging into the soft ground. Teyla grabbed it carefully and tossed it into the metal box they'd brought along. They filled it with water and pressed a lid on. "Wow, they sure have some springs on them. Let's get this back to Atlantis."
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Sheppard awoke feeling like he hadn't slept at all. He was drained and tired. It felt wrong to wake up without Rodney or Carson at his bedside. He'd had his share of injuries and those two always seemed to be around when he woke up from them. Rodney was usually pecking away at his laptop and Carson always looked overjoyed to see him, though perhaps a few hours shy of a good night's rest.
"Major Sheppard, how are you feeling?" A different nurse stood over him and offered a nervous smile.
He thought maybe he'd scare her and say "violent" or "pissed someone stuck a damn needle in me," but he didn't have the energy. He simply sat up and swung his legs around to hang off the bed. She jumped in surprise. "Oh, you moved!"
Ya think? He glared at her as he stood, albeit unsteadily, and swatted her hand away bearing an ever-present thermometer. Despite her protests he pulled the monitor off his finger and the IV from his arm; stretched his aching muscles. Ah, the simple pleasure of being able to move again! He twitched the curtain aside only to be cornered by one of his men, Lieutenant Jackson, who uncomfortably explained, "Sir, I have orders to keep you here." The fretting nurse was asking him to sit down. Why won't these people just leave me the hell alone?
Sheppard glared at him, considered pulling the gun from his fingers and hitting him across the face with it. "I just gotta pee Jackson." He stumbled to the infirmary bathroom, painfully aware of the scant gown he was wearing. Jackson trailed his step. The Lieutenant reached around him to open the door. "You wanna unzip my fly for me too?" The man backed off, embarrassed. Good.
He shut the door firmly, wishing there was a lock. God, why was a security escort trailing him? He wasn't dangerous, he could barely walk! He sighed regrettably; he had been dangerous a few hours ago, hadn't he? The fuzzy feeling in his head was retreating, giving way to fractured memories. No he was better now, crazy John was over with.
After washing his hands he emerged and gave the soldier a nasty look then sauntered over to some medical machines and began checking them out. He was bored and pissed, not a good combination.
"Major Sheppard, good to see you up and walking!" Dr. Völker came out from the adjoining lab, closing the door carefully behind him. He looked tired and bleak. "We are currently working on treatment options; hopefully you'll be back to normal soon." Sheppard tried to look like interested, when all he really wanted to do was get out of the infirmary. "Has your memory returned? How do you feel?"
How do I fucking look? "Like a rattlesnake in a Chevy rut on a rainy day." Völker looked confused. "Means I feel down," he explained.
"Ah, I understand." He didn't, crazy Americans. "Well, we've hit a roadblock in the venom samples; Carson and Lydia have been stabilized but aren't recovering on their own like you. Hopefully we'll have some live samples soon, which would help Doctor Padgett and Brooks immensely, allow them to develop an antivenin."
"So, you're working on one of these thingies for me too?"
The doctor paused, almost uncomfortably. "Well, your venom seems to have worn off, hence your returned mobility. What we don't understand is its continued presence in your body. You seem to be getting better, but it hasn't worked its way through your system yet. If all goes well, you should be back to normal soon."
Sheppard glared at the German. "'If all goes well'? What if it goes unwell? You just said that it's still in me. You could at least pretend to do your job."
Völker had a moment of irony when he realized this was the second time today his ability as a doctor had been questioned. "As I said, it is unnecessary; it's there but not doing anything. Anyway, I'm a trauma surgeon; poisons aren't really my specialty."
"More of a blood and broken bones guy, huh?"
"Something like that." The young man looked as though he'd aged ten years in the past few hours.
"I hope I never end up on your table." Sheppard scowled. "Do you think I could get out of here?"
"Major, I can't let you go, not in your condition. You have to understand."
"Look, I feel fine, really. I'm not gonna jump anyone, I just want to go for a walk."
Völker shook his head firmly. He shot Sheppard a sorrowful look. "I understand your restlessness, but the venom is as strong as ever in your bloodstream. Look, we've been concentrating on Carson and Lydia because of their deteriorating condition, but I'll see what I can do about you. It isn't right to ignore you because it doesn't seem fatal. I know you don't exactly feel up to par right now, I'll take a look at it."
"Just for shits and giggles?" Sheppard growled. He had a feeling the doctor was just trying to appease him. Völker cast him a nervous look before retreating to his microscope on the opposite side of the infirmary.
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Sheppard was resigned to wait. Rodney had promised to come down and deliver a change of clothes so he could get out of the damned gown. Just as he was wondering what the hell was taking so long, the doors slid open.
"Sheppard?" Rodney stopped a few steps away. He seemed to be deciding if the major was safe to approach.
"McKay?" Two could play this game.
Appearing to come to a resolution of some sort, Rodney snorted derisively. "Don't take that tone with me Mr. shoot and don't worry that the most important man on Atlantis is in the line of fire." He dumped the supplies on the bed.
"You would rather that thing maul me?" Sheppard began digging around the pile for some pants.
"Yes, you're expendable." Sheppard grunted at that. "So Major, how did you like being paralyzed? Not as funny when it's you, is it?"
Sheppard smiled, truly smiled. It felt good and normal. "I wasn't really in the mood for funny, but at least I didn't drool."
"I do not drool. I also do not tease friends when they're down." McKay accused as he thought back to the incident involving a Wraith stunner to his face. Not fun. "As I recall you were quite amused at my expense."
"Of course I was. What is all this crap McKay?" He'd only asked for a change of clothes and it looked as though his whole wardrobe was here.
"Well, I didn't know if you wanted sweats or pants or shorts. And I wasn't about to touch your boxers so I emptied them into a bag and brought them all." Oh please. Well, that explained half the load. "And I brought your book, I must say I'm impressed; page twenty-three." Sheppard shrugged noncommittally. "And I brought you a laptop," he finished.
"The one with Alien Invaders on it?"
"Of course, I can't see you playing any intellectual game."
Sheppard gratefully accepted all the supplies. Rodney turned around hastily as he started pulling on his pants, opting for the comfortable sweats.
"That's why they have a bathroom Sheppard. I did not come down here to get flashed." Rodney's voice grew serious. "How's Carson?" He craned to see, but the other two patients had been granted some privacy with a screen.
The question froze Sheppard with one arm in his shirt. He felt his face go red; of course McKay knew what he'd done. Teyla would have revealed everything in the debriefing. "Uh, I dunno. I haven't seen him." He didn't remember every detail yet, but had a clearer picture of what had happened. He knew enough that he would be in deep shit with the Scot when he woke. The wrath of Carson was not something to be reckoned with.
"Well, maybe you should." Rodney went over to the screens.
"I doubt he'd want me to." Sheppard followed grudgingly, hopping as he pulled on socks. He peeked around the curtains at Carson, who was fast asleep. "Okay, that's that." He did a one-eighty. Rodney grabbed his arm.
"What's the hurry?" Sheppard didn't meet his eyes. In a moment of uncharacteristic understanding Rodney said, "Hey, Carson knows you weren't yourself, he'll forgive you."
For some reason, the words made him thoroughly incensed. "Why the hell should I need forgiveness McKay? I saved your sorry lives, every one of them!" He yanked away from McKay and stalked to the doors. Jackson rushed to block his way.
"Sir."
Sheppard stopped not two inches from his face. "Out of the way Jackson." The guard stiffened, finger itching on the trigger. "Now dammit!" McKay looked shell-shocked. He'd witnessed the Major go from guilty to enraged in a second flat.
"Sorry Sir." The guard made like he was going for his radio. Sheppard ripped the wire from his ear and crunched it underfoot. Jackson lifted his gun only to have it knocked violently from his fingers. Sheppard was ready to finish this. He punched Jackson hard and watched in satisfaction as he went down with a grunt.
McKay shouted, "A little help here!" Sheppard rounded on him. "Eep!" The scientist retreated behind a defibrillator cart. Sheppard dove after him and knocked the expensive equipment to the floor. The noise brought out one of the nurses, but he had already grabbed McKay by his tender upper arm. With that, Sheppard bent and retrieved the gun, stepped over his fallen Lieutenant, and left, pulling a protesting Rodney behind.
"Don't just stand there woman!" was Rodney's parting statement.
Nurse Hennings, the very one he'd refused treatment from earlier, gasped and reached for the wall radio, but they were already gone.
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A/N: Please review. Poor boys can't get a break!
Chapter Title translation: 10-44 stands for "Permission to leave." hehe, or not.