WINTER WONDERLAND
By NotTasha
You guys have been so damn nice to me with the reviews. I love 'em :-) Thanks so much

CHAPTER 24: TRADE NEGOTIATIONS

Sheppard sat on one of the infirmary beds with his back pressed against the 'headboard'. His legs were stretched in front of him. Cradled in his hand – a mug of hot, sickeningly-sweet liquid. The stuff, he was certain, was melting his teeth. He sat with heating pads at strategic positions, and wrapped in warmed blankets, still unable to beat that awful frozen feeling.

"You haven't suffered any frostbite, Major," Beckett had declared. "You'll just need a bit of a warm up, and you'll be fine. And keep off that leg." He gave Sheppard an unhappy look. "Would like you to take better care of yourself. What were you thinkin', walkin' when your knee was in that shape and goin' without a coat?"

With a shrug, Sheppard stated, "Tryin' to save our lives."

Beckett nodded, knowingly. "I'd send you to your quarters like the rest of your team, but…"

Sheppard had promised to be good, to obey any orders and stay in bed if he could remain in the infirmary. Beckett gave in without much fuss. It had been hard enough to force Ford and Teyla to leave, and t he CMO knew where to fight his battles.

"And, the ice pack, Major," Beckett had said tiredly, again offering the item.

Sheppard shook his head sharply. "No way in hell you're gettin' near me with that," he declared hotly. "I've had my fill of ice for a while."

With a sigh, Beckett had responded, "We'll see."

The major had watched as the doctors worked over Rodney. He'd been trussed up to keep him still. John had felt a little sad to see the clothing cut from the man – down and feathers went everywhere as the red jacket was destroyed, and then the Maple Leafs sweater under it. Won't be able to replace them – Sheppard realized sadly. Nothing else like them in the Pegasus Galaxy. Sorry, McKay. I think I'll miss them.

Rodney never stirred – distressing Beckett, Sheppard and everyone else.

The physicist was a horrible mottle of blacks, blues and reds. He still bore the scars from the devil dogs from months ago – unpleasant looking scars over his shoulder and chest. No, Sheppard couldn't fault the man for hating those itnas -- for needing to get away from them. The major closed his eyes, remembering that island, remembering what he had to do to save them all -- what he had to do to McKay in order to save the Canadian.

Damn, he thought. I hated that.

A nasty cut marred McKay's bruised head. The area had been shaven, stitched and wrapped. He was taken away for x-rays, scans and other tests. Then the astrophysicist was brought back, strapped in place with a series of heating pads, blankets and an IV with a fluid warmer.

That done, Beckett returned to Sheppard. He sat on the foot of the bed, and explained, "Surprisingly, he doesn't have any frostbite, either. Amazing really. He has a concussion and is suffering from hypothermia," Beckett told him. "But you managed to keep that from getting as bad as it could have. If I can get his temperature up a bit, I'd be a wee bit happier."

"What about his back?" Sheppard asked over the top of his cup.

"There's no tellin' at this moment."

"I moved him," Sheppard said softly, changing his gaze to take in the Canadian. Rodney's head was wrapped in bandages, a collar to keep his neck still. It looked strange after seeing him with that blue fleece cap with the ridiculous earflaps for so long. "I should've kept him from moving, but I yanked him pretty hard."

"Lad, you know it was the right thing to do. Either that or be crushed by all that snow." The doctor gave him an encouraging look. "I wasn't able to find anything broken, and there's a great deal of bruising and swelling around his spine," he explained. "He's yet to show any signs of waking. When he comes around, and if his mind is working and if we're able to reduce the swelling and get him warmed up proper, he should get some feelin' again."

"All that?"

"Could be any one of them giving him the trouble."

"Will he walk again?"

"I can't say," Beckett responded. "The X-rays don't reveal everything, I'm afraid. There may be damage we can't easily see. Depending on what's gone wrong..." and he let his sentence trail off, not wanting to continue.

Carson went on to explain about medications, test results, X-rays, treatments and such like that, but the long and the short of it was – he had nothing really to say. McKay's legs weren't reacting to stimuli. There was no knowing if he'd ever be able to move them again – no knowing if he would be able to walk.

Damn Ekukians! Sheppard thought. If they'd only managed to control their freak dogs! If those people had never been stuck on that paradise island with their untamed animals! He wished he'd known sooner – wished he'd recognized the animals in the tapestry, figured it out quicker. He might have been able to get Rodney calmed down, get between him and the wilding creatures. He wished he hadn't just gotten annoyed with McKay -- yelling at him to knock it off. He wished he'd understood back then.

Should have done something, he thought. Wish I'd known.

"He might never walk again," Beckett had tried to tell him, stopping. "We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. No sense in thinkin' only the worst."

"Yeah," Sheppard responded, staring at the stuff in his cup. He sipped at it again, as Beckett sat on his bed and gazed toward Rodney. Finally, John asked, "Couldn't you get me some coffee? Tea even?"

"Now, what did you tell me earlier, Major? I'm allowin' you to stay only if you keep yourself quiet and do as I tell you. You're suffering from the cold, too, and caffeine isn't what you need right now. You need something hot and packed with calories. This'll be better for you. That, and an ice pack."

Sheppard growled, and Beckett held up his hands in surrender. Tired, John scowled at the mug, and took another sip. "Wish you could tell me more," he finally stated.

"I wish I could, too." His voice low, Beckett said, "But no matter what happens, we'll take care of it."

"Take care of him," Sheppard corrected the wording.

"Aye, we'll take care of him, no matter what comes of it."

Quirking his mouth into a half smile, Sheppard accepted this fact – whether or not he really wanted to face the possibilities of it. Yeah, they'd manage, somehow. McKay would persevere as he always did – but at what cost?

The weariness of the adventure had caught up to him. He settled the half-emptied mug on the bedside table. "Gonna stretch out for a bit," Sheppard told the Scot.

"Aye," Beckett returned as he stood to give the man more room. "I was wonderin' when you would."

"I'm not going to sleep," Sheppard told him. "I plan to stay awake until you have something to tell me that's worth hearing."

"Aye, lad," Beckett stated, nodding and rubbing a hand through his hair. "You do that." He picked up the mug as Sheppard stretched out, reorganizing his heating pads, being careful his aching knee.

Beckett sigh, and stated, "I could get you that ice pack now."

"No way in hell!" Sheppard snapped. "Just going to shut my eyes for a bit."

"I'll keep a watch on things. Don't you worry," Beckett told him as he wandered away.

Sheppard blinked and Ford suddenly appeared at his side. "Hey, Major," he declared. "Welcome back."

Furrowing his brow, Sheppard coughed and pressed himself upright. "What…?" he tried to ask, still feeling bleary.

"Major," he heard Teyla voice. "It is good to see you awake." She stood up from her chair on the far side of Rodney's bed.

"Ah, he's up, is he?" Beckett declared from a few beds over. He was checking on Sgt. Tanner, who looked annoyed at being held up in the infirmary. He was sitting on the edge of one of the beds while Beckett adjusted a sling.

"I gotta get goin'," the Texan drawled. "I'm late for an important meetin'."

Beckett smiled knowingly. "So, you have another poker game goin' in the jumper hangar?"

Tanner gave the doctor a grin in response.

"Well, I guess that can't be kept waitin'. You already have someone come to fetch you." And Beckett nodded toward the figure that was waiting rather impatiently in the doorway to the waiting room.

"There you go, son," Beckett told him. "Off with you."

And Tanner had hopped off the bed with a quick, "Thanks, doc." He paused long enough to nod to his CO. He caught up with his companion. The other man gave the sergeant a slug in the arm and managed to get away before Tanner could apply any retribution. Long-sufferingly, the Texan could only try to catch up, clutching his aching arm to his chest.

Funny, Sheppard didn't remember Tanner being here earlier – or Kavanagh for that matter. The engineer was sitting up in bed, looking annoyed as hell – his eyes swollen and black -- a bandage around the bridge of his nose. Beckett nodded as he walked by the tall scientist's bed. "Don't worry, lad," he said before Kavanagh could speak. "You'll be out of here and messin' with your experiments in no time. Just want to be sure you're seeing straight before I release you."

"I was right in the middle of a very important experiment," Kavanagh declared -- his tone had an added nasal quality to it. It made him sound rather like a duck. "If I don't get back to it, someone's going to mess it up. No one understands it but me." And a conceited duck at that!

"It was that experiment that put you here," Beckett reminded him. "Shouldn't 'a been messin' about with things such as that with no one around to keep track of you."

"So I passed out and smacked my head on the counter," Kavanagh muttered. "I wasn't counting on the fumes. Sgt. Tanner found me right when it happened." He glanced toward Sheppard and stated, "It's not my fault that he wrenched his shoulder getting me here!" He turned his attention back to Beckett and stated, "He's gone, so let me go, too."

"Patience, patience," Beckett declared, sounding like the most patient man in the world. He smiled when he reached Sheppard. "Feelin' better now, are we?"

Groaning, John rubbed his knee, annoyed to find that it was strangely cold. Someone had slipped an ice pack in on him! He glared around the room, looking for the guilty party. "How long have I been out?" he asked, frustrated at not finding a culprit.

"You slept through the night and then some," Beckett responded.

"We are glad you were able to get some rest," Teyla added, smiling reassuringly.

"Yeah, you were looking pretty tired, sir," Ford added.

"He wasn't the only one," Beckett put in, glancing from Teyla to Ford. "I think we all needed a night of it."

"McKay," John breathed out, then licked at his teeth uncomfortably, not wanting to think about the funk he had going on in there.

Beckett nodded to the bed beside the major. "He's sleepin' still." He gave Sheppard a soft smile before he moved toward the other bed. Rodney had been freed of the restraints that had held him earlier – looked a hell of a lot more comfortable if nothing else.

Carson pulled the coverlet back, exposing Rodney's feet. Taking a pen from his pocket, he ran the back of it along the bare soles. Reflexively, the foot twitched.

Sheppard returned Becket's smile, glad as all hell.

"What?" a voice sounded softly. "What the… I…" And the foot tried to scrunch up and retract from Beckett's administration.

"Rodney," Beckett's called, surprised. He quickly changed positions, to get in alongside the bed. "Rodney, do you know where you are?"

The physicist squinted up at the head surgeon. "Carson," he identified softly. Glancing around the room, he found Teyla and Ford leaning over him, and finally he looked to one side and spotted Sheppard sitting up in his bed. "Infirmary," he muttered. "Guess we made it back."

"That you did," Beckett returned, seeming pleased as punch to hear Rodney's annoyed response.

"Doctor McKay!" Ford called brightly. Teyla smiled serenely when the Canadian looked at her.

"McKay," Sheppard added, and gave the man a nod when their eyes met.

"How you feelin', lad?" Beckett asked earnestly.

Rodney fumbled with the blankets, trying to get out of them and escape the heating packs. "It's rather hot in here," he complained. "I don't do well in the high temperatures. I tend to get overheated and get all sweaty and…" He paused, thought a moment, and then smiled crookedly. "Hot… it's rather nice to be hot." His smile increased. "I thought I'd never be warm again."

Sheppard nodded. "Gotta say, I'm liking it, too! Just as long as no one is slipping any ice packs in on me." He flashed a glare around the room. Nobody flinched – damn them! "It's much better here than snuggling in a snow cave."

With a beleaguered sigh, Beckett stated, "I should hope so."

The major glanced toward Teyla and Ford, adding quickly, "Not that we did a whole lot of 'snuggling' or anything like that. It was more like 'huddling'. We were trying to conserve heat."

McKay glanced toward Sheppard and gave him a grin that dropped into panicked expression as he remembered. Hands reached toward his legs, and he winced pathetically as every bruise made its presence known. "Ow," he moaned. "Ow…seriously… Ow…."

"Hang on there, Rodney. Stop tryin' to move around like an ass," Beckett stated, as he pressed a hand to McKay's chest to shove him back into place.

"My legs," Rodney cried. "I need to know if I can…" and he stopped as he looked down to his exposed feet, watching the toes clench and unclench. He smiled, stupidly, as he managed to move his feet back and forth. "I can move!" he declared, delightedly. "Not as much as I'd like. And… ow… not as easily." He stopped his gyrations, and seemed happy just to watch his toes dance.

Becket smiled, glad to see Rodney's gleeful expression. "It'll get better, Rodney," he promised. "You're over the first hurdle."

"So… this means I'll be able to walk again?" Rodney asked quickly.

"Well, I'd like to run some further tests now that you're awake, but by the looks of things, I'd say, 'yes'," Beckett responded.

"What about physical therapy? Will I have to do any of that? Because…" And McKay's hands fluttered around in his nervousness.

"We'll see," Beckett responded lightly. "If all goes well, you might be on your feet in a day or two."

McKay's smile increased. "Ah good! Good. I really don't care much for physical therapy. Too much repetition and too much touching. So much of it is pure sadism. I swear, therapists just want to see their patients in pain most of the time."

"We'll see," Beckett replied, his voice a little lower.

But McKay was looking around the room, looking pleased as punch. As he moved his head, suddenly he winced. "Ow…"

Beckett sighed. "How's the head?"

"Hurts!" Rodney declared through clenched teeth. "You got a Tylenol or something?" Becket sighed and nodded.

"It's real good to see you awake, Doc," Ford put in. "And to see you moving. You had us scared for a while."

"Scared, really?" Rodney looked over at Sheppard, who shrugged.

"Figured you'd be easier to deal with if you could get around on your own," the major responded slyly. "I mean, I don't think any of us would have wanted to push you in a wheelchair for too long – having to take commands."

"Hmm," McKay replied.

"We are very glad that you are well," Teyla told him.

"She brought the cavalry," Sheppard explained. "She figured you'd be needing a ride out of there and returned to Atlantis. Dialed home and got Weir to agree."

"Really?" McKay questioned. "But how'd she know?" He turned slowly to face the Athosian, wincing at the movement. "You knew? How? Some sort of psychic thing?" And he twiddled his fingers by his ear, frowning when he realized his head had been bandaged.

"I felt as if something was wrong," Teyla admitted, not quite sure what she'd felt that had awakened her.

"You were sick," Rodney recalled.

"I am better now," Teyla responded.

"So you just got up and decided to go for help? Why would Dr. Weir agree to sending a puddlejumper out on a whim?"

With a forgiving smile, she added, "And I saw the animals, the itnas."

"Oh," Rodney responded. He looked abashed, and asked, "So you went back to Atlantis to get help because of the devil dogs? Because you thought I'd be scared of them?"

"Yes," Teyla responded honestly. She leaned over the bed, gently grasping one of Rodney's hands. "I knew you would be most uncomfortable in their presence, that it would be best if you were to return – with me – to Atlantis."

"With you?" Rodney tried, not understanding.

"I do not like them either," Teyla admitted. "They… unnerve me."

Rodney stared at her, not able to tell if she were joshing him or not. Was she passing off a lie to make him feel less childish? She looked sincere.

"He says, 'thank you'," Sheppard said, smirking at Rodney's confused expression. "I'm pretty darn thankful you showed up when you did, otherwise we'd be just a couple of popsicles."

"Popsicles?" Teyla tried the word. "Is that anything like the motorcycle you were telling me about?"

"Not a bit," McKay responded with a snitty voice.

"Well," Sheppard negotiated, "They're both cool.

McKay rolled his eyes, trying to cross his arms over his chest, but was flummoxed by the IV line. "Can I get rid of this?" he called to Carson.

The doctor shook his head. "Not as of yet," he responded. "You behave yourself and we'll see about it. You're going to be in bed for a while. Might as well take in all the advantages of your stay." And he gestured to the IV as if it were a good thing.

Rodney scowled and, looking down, spotting something on the floor. "Why are there feathers in here?" he asked, indicating a couple tufts that had missed the cleaning brigade.

"Now, since our patients are both awake," Beckett said, quickly changing the subject, "It's time you both wandered off to better things." And he gestured toward Ford and Teyla.

Ford turned to his CO, his glance asking permission to remain, but Sheppard shook his head. "Go on," he said. "Get some grub or something. I'm going to want to get some more sleep myself. What to do you say, McKay?"

"I just woke up," Rodney stated petulantly.

"Then you can keep me company until I drift off," Sheppard said. "Talk to me."

Teyla squeezed Rodney's hand again. "When you are feeling better," she told him quietly, "I shall tell you what Hoonah and Nenana told me about you." Then, in spite of Rodney's confused look, she left him to stride to Sheppard's bed. "I shall see you later today," she promised, then tilting her head at Ford, she made her way toward the exit.

"Later, sir," Ford called. "Good to have you back, doc," he added, touching the brim of his cap and then turned to briskly follow Teyla.

"Hookah and Nonnie-nonnie?" Rodney tried the names, looking toward Sheppard for help. The Major could only shrug in response.

Beckett nodded, saying, "I have a thing or two to look after as well." As he moved past Kavanagh, the scientist called after him, but Carson kept moving.

Sheppard watched them go, and then turned to McKay. "Feeling better?" he asked.

McKay gave him a withering look. "Honestly, Major," he returned. "Do you have to ask?" He raised his voice to call after Beckett, "Do you think I can get one of those morphine boxes going here? You know, the one with the button? -- the good stuff. I have a surprisingly low pain threshold."

McKay squinted after Beckett. "You think he's getting one?"

Sheppard shook his head. "Better not hold your breath."

"Humph," McKay returned. "You sure?" He looked hopefully at Sheppard, then crinked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you still here, anyway?"

"Wrenched my knee," Sheppard said, gesturing to the hurt leg.

"How'd you do that?"

"One of those snowmobiles fell on me," Sheppard explained.

"How…?" McKay started, letting the question trail off.

"We crashed." He sat forward when he saw McKay's concerned look.

"When did that happen?" McKay, asked, confused.

"When we were trying to save your ass. God, it was a kick taking that snowmobile downhill. We made that skid fly! You should've been there. It was freakin' great!"

"Really?" McKay answered, his voice raised a bit. "How fast do you think…?"

"Hell, I have no idea, but we were gettin' some pretty good air. Came off these incredible ledges. It was swerving all over hell. We must have been going straight down at one point. Nearest thing to flyin' without getting off the ground – much. God it was a rush."

"Until you crashed it…"

"Well, yeah, up until that point it was a hell of a ride."

"Did you total it?"

"What?"

"The skid… the snowmobile."

"Yeah, we smashed it pretty good. I don't think they'll be using that one anytime soon."

"You think we could get it – I mean as part of the trade?"

"I don't think the trade is still on, McKay."

"Oh come on. We need the meat."

"I don't know," Sheppard said and sighed. "I'm thinkin' I'd rather see those tapas get away."

"But we can still get that snowmobile, don't you think?"

Sheppard chuckled. "Don't know, McKay."

"Because I can modify it. Get it a bit more peppy. I'm sure there're other planets in the Ancient Database that'd suit our needs for snow. Give me a bit though. Not sure I'm quite, you know, ready for snow at the moment." And he paused with that thought. "Maybe someplace with a nice chalet and hot tub? Because, all things considered, I'd rather not go back to Ekuk."

"Don't know if they'll trade it," Sheppard stated. "I hear they cracked up a couple more of them in all the excitement. They'll probably want to cannibalize parts and make at least one good one out of the wreckage."

McKay frowned, thinking. "Maybe if the trade was good enough, they'll still go for it. Those ladies were pretty darn excited about that fruit. Fruit? Why would they want fruit? Try to figure that one out! They sure had strange tastes."

"Well they don't have much vegetation on their part of the planet so…"

"Still, you'd think they'd want something tastier, like a load of self-warming MRE's." He paused and blinked. "Now… that'd be worth trading for."

"Different strokes for different folks."

"Hmmmm, still we might be able to manage it. You know, we start them on the fruit of the month club and get anything we want from them." McKay yawned. He settled back on the bed, breathing slowly. "I think… I think, I'm going to rest a bit now."

"Go ahead," the major responded.

"What about the… ah…'keeping you company' thing."

"I'll manage."

"Oh, good… good." And Rodney closed his eyes.

"Rodney," John said softly.

"Hmmm?"

"Good to have you back," John stated.

Rodney smiled in return. In a few moments, he'd drifted off.

Sheppard watched him sleep. Yes, Rodney had managed to move his feet and to ease his legs about, but that didn't mean that he'd be 100 when all this was over. The worry hadn't left John – there were still too many things that might not go right. It might be a hard journey for him. He wondered if McKay was up to it.

The room was silent for a while, until a muffled, nasal voice interrupted the stillness. "Oh come on," Kavanagh bleated from his bed. "You know he's going to be fine. He wouldn't give me the satisfaction of letting me get his position."

Reluctantly, Sheppard turned to the black-eyed engineer and gave him a steely look.

Kavanagh continued, "He doesn't give up on anything. You know that." He folded his arms over his chest. "So stop acting as if you think otherwise." Looking annoyed, Kavanagh added, "And if you get those damn snowmobiles, you know he's going to do everything he can to get to his feet and start fixing them up before anyone else can get their hands on them." He paused, and asked, with a tone that almost sounded hopeful, "So, you're going to do it, right?"

Sheppard allowed himself a small smile. Probably the first he'd ever had for the engineer. "Yeah, I suspect so."

Kavanagh grunted in response, his arms still tightly crossed at his chest. "Figures," he grumbled and flopped onto his side, turning so that his back was toward the major.

Sheppard sighed, not knowing what to make of that, as he reached for his radio. He had to contact Weir about a trade negotiation.