And so begins the first of the last chapters of Forgotten Half. This chapter is kind of short, but I thought it was the best place to cut it.
For three days they all worked and waited. For three days they watched little Rodney grow weaker and weaker, his small body breaking down before their eyes. The child was in constant pain, and Beckett had finally begun administering high dosage pain-relievers. John wasn't doing well either, his brother's pain mirrored in his sympathetic eyes.
Elizabeth felt helpless. She could do little other than hold Rodney when the pain convulsions hit him, or when he had nightmares. Lieutenant Ford as well was often around, giving John hugs and trying to keep his spirits up. The young soldier obviously felt a sense of responsibility for the boys as the first person on Atlantis that they trusted. When Teyla returned from the mainland, she too visited often with the children, singing Athosian lullabies and giving what little comfort she could.
By the end of the third day Beckett had finished the gene-activator. His face was grim, though, as he administered it, an expression mirrored by the others. They all knew that, despite the nearly super-human speed with which Carson created the activator, it was most likely too late.
Weir held a nearly unconscious Rodney in her arms, listening to the heart monitor. Aiden stood against the wall, Teyla sitting in an empty chair beside him. Beckett closed his eyes as he sat next to a hauntingly silent John, listening to the beeping, holding on to the sound that meant his friend was still alive. There was nothing he could do now. If Rodney's heart stopped, he knew there was little chance that he could restart it again. The doctor ached to put the child on a ventilator, to use any means possible to keep him alive; but one look at Elizabeth told him that it would be beyond cruelty to prolong Rodney's suffering like that, to keep him in unending pain. No, the gene-activator had worked, but not in time. Dr. Zelenka could not reverse the de-aging process, and Carson could not stop his best friend from dying.
John's hazel eyes seemed to stare off into space, but it was only a mask to cover his troubled feelings. 'I can't lose Quinn, I can't. He's my twin, my other half; I don't know if I can live without him.' Salty tears ran down his face, and he felt a comforting arm hug him. John looked up at Carson, seeing the pain in the doctor's eyes, pain mirrored in the eyes of everyone in the room.
A soft whimper caught his attention, and John turned his head to look at his brother. Rodney could barely move and was having trouble breathing. John felt his own breath hitch as he realized that this was the end, his brother was almost dead.
Rodney's blue eyes met his own and suddenly John had an idea. It was crazy and dangerous, and Rodney would be angry that he did it, but at the moment John didn't care. It was his only chance to save his brother. He needed only to wait a few more moments…
Elizabeth felt her heart clench as Rodney's breathing suddenly stopped, the heart monitor starting to screech out its warning. She heard Carson stand and reach out to the boy in her arms, felt him halt in midair before forcing himself to sit down again as he fought his doctor's instincts. As the heart-monitor continued its shrill cries, Elizabeth kept her eyes on the still child. The sound of the flat-line was suddenly cut off as Ford turned off the machine, unable to bear the horrible sound. As tears filled her eyes, Dr. Weir placed one last kiss on Rodney's soft hair.
Well, I hope you liked where I ended it…just kidding. I wouldn't do that to you. On to the next part…
A small hand snaked over Elizabeth's to settle on Rodney's now motionless chest. The leader of Atlantis looked down to see John, eyes closed and forehead wrinkled, softly whispering to his brother. The words grew softer and softer until the boy fell silent, never moving his hand.
All of a sudden, John tightly gripped the front of Rodney's hospital gown. Beckett barely had enough time to grab the boy as he collapsed, never letting go of his brother. The physician checked the boy's vital signs, frightened to find that he wasn't breathing and his heart had stopped. This wasn't supposed to happen; it was Rodney who was dying, not John!
He gently placed the child on the bed as he yelled for the nurses. "I need a crash cart!"
Beckett leaned over to start chest compressions when John's eyes opened for a moment. "No," came the soft whisper before the boy fell back unconscious. Beckett checked again, still no pulse.
As the crash cart was getting set up, Beckett cut John's shirt off of him, quickly setting up a heart monitor. He was handed the paddles, yelling "Clear!" when Weir shouted his name, stopping him before he could shock John.
Carson turned his head, his eyes widening as the body in Elizabeth's arms drew a short breath. John's heart monitor began responding, one short beep at a time. "Carson, I think John's trying to bring Rodney back!"
The doctor hesitated, then put the paddles away, though he kept them in reach just in case. He didn't like it, but with what little they knew he would have to take that chance. Moving to Rodney's side, he turned the heart monitor back on and watched as it spiked again and again, slowly gaining strength. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, both boys gasped and opened their eyes.
Elizabeth was elated. Somehow John had just brought Rodney back from the threshold of death, in a way that she couldn't possibly begin to understand. The twins quickly fell asleep, both exhausted, but both alive and presumably well.
It was Teyla who noticed the heart-monitors first. "Dr. Beckett, I did not think it was normal for two people to have the same heartbeat."
Beckett blinked, than looked at the monitors. They were beeping in unison, a phenomenon he had never encountered before. The four friends, Elizabeth, Carson, Teyla, and Aiden, all stared at the sleeping children, listening the steady, synchronized beating of their hearts. Beckett shook his head. "I don't pretend to know what just happened here."
Elizabeth heartily agreed as she held the now alive boy in her arms. "Honestly, I don't think it matters. I'm just glad it worked."
Everyone could agree with that.
I promise to finish posting tonight.