22
He watches her breathe.
In and out. In and out. Restfully, as if she's sleeping—though he's never known Jax to sleep restfully—her eyes open, staring at the ceiling though seeing nothing. She can be molded into any form. If he lifts her hand, it stays where he puts it until he moves it again. Her body is a shell, waiting for her to return and bring it back to life. He knows she's in there somewhere. He can feel it in her heartbeat that quickens slightly—as noticed by the beep, beep of the monitor—whenever he's near. As if she's calling out to him.
He talks to her about missions, the city, the mainland. He tells her about the most recent rumors, hoping to make her mad enough to snap out of whatever this is that has taken her away from him.
He brings in her laptop and plays the MacGyver episodes over and over, hoping for a spark of interest to cross her face.
He tells her how much he misses her.
He yells at her and shakes her. He curses her for being weak until Beckett has him forcefully removed from the infirmary, usually by Sheppard, who somehow, though full of silence, manages to get him under control again.
He sits with her for hours in the middle of the night, staring into her empty eyes, trying to will her into action.
He gently holds her hand, letting her know he's by her side. Dr. Beckett says she's not conscious of her surroundings, but does believe she can hear him on some level, believes she is listening.
All he can do is wait.
And watch her breathe.
Dr. Beckett shakes his head. "I can't help her here," he says firmly. He's been going over the same argument for nearly an hour.
Ronon and Sheppard stand to the sides of the doctors as they square off in Weir's office.
Sheppard's been unusually quiet since they found Jax in Ronon's room. Ever since he saw the blood on her neck and remembered that he attacked her as the Bugman, he hasn't cracked a smile or made a joke. When he does speak, he snaps at everyone, including Ronon, but mostly he goes about day-to-day business with a scowl and wrinkled brows. His face is plastered with guilt and no matter what Ronon tries to tell him, he refuses to listen. He refuses to see that Jax survived without serious injury because Sheppard, himself, did something to stop it. Jax put the incident behind her…she doesn't blame him, how can he blame himself.
And yet he does.
Ronon's unsure if Dr. Weir knows what is on the Colonel's mind. She rarely gives away any emotion, not unlike Jax in that respect, always self-contained and in control. But Ronon can see a slight crack in the surface. She, too, is worried and feeling guilty. "You'll have to do your best, Carson. It's out of my hands."
"Out of your…Dr. Weir, I don't have the equipment or the staff to monitor her around the clock. It's been two weeks since she went into the state and there's no physical reason for it. I've tried every possible medication to pull her out, but nothing has stimulated the poor lass. If we don't get her into a mental care facility…"
"I understand," Dr. Weir says slowly, her eyes locking onto Beckett as she rises out of her chair. "But she is not permitted to return to Earth. End of discussion."
Beckett shakes his head even harder. "How is that possible? It's her home-"
"No," Ronon says and all eyes turn to him, including Sheppard's. "This is her home."
"I know you have feelings for the lass, but she needs her family-"
Ronon glowers at Beckett. "We are her family." He crosses his arms. "There's nothing for her back there." He drops his gaze and his voice, not really wanting to say anything more, but unable to keep it to himself. "She'll die there. Alone."
Ronon lifts his eyes, catching Dr. Weir staring at him with uncompromised compassion. She nods before looking back at Beckett. "He's right. More than anyone, Jax is home on Atlantis and she isn't going anywhere else. I'm sorry, Carson, I can't give you the explanation you want. I can only follow orders. As you must."
"This is bloody insanity, that's what it is."
Dr. Weir stands, her hands on her hips and starts to pace. "Are you telling me the Ancients never came across something like this? There has to be some mention of a cure."
"Aye, there's a cure. Jax. She has to want to come out of it. But I don't see that happening. A catatonic state can last hours or years. There's no telling what can trigger a reversal. It depends on the patient and her medical history. Which, by the way, is woefully inadequate for this particular patient considering I know nothing-"
Dr. Weir holds up a silencing hand. "I know." She looks to Ronon. "Have you tried speaking to her?"
He nods. "Every day." He lifts his chin. "Even Sheppard and Teyla have tried."
"And no response?"
"She doesn't even blink," Sheppard says quietly.
"Aye, we're using saline drops to keep her eyes hydrated," Carson adds. "Plus she's on the IV drip, but the lass has already lost weight and it's not like she was exactly in need of that to begin with. She's going to start to lose muscle soon."
"Well, we can't let that happen!" Dr. Weir snaps, making them all look at her in shock. She raises a hand again. "I'm sorry, I know you're-"
The citywide alarm blares, cutting her off and she glances at Sheppard. His expression goes from guilty to ready-for-action as he leads the way into the Control Room followed by Ronon with Dr. Weir right behind them.
"What's wrong?" she asks.
McKay rushes around the panels. "We've got a ship incoming. The long range sensors just picked it up and it's already almost on top of us. Damn, it's fast!"
"Wraith?" Caldwell asks coming into the Control Room.
McKay studies the computer. "It's too big for a…it just…wait…what?" He looks up at them with fear in his eyes. "It just cloaked!"
"Wraith ships can't do that!" Sheppard says firmly.
Dr. Weir runs her hand through her hair. "Can we cloak the city?"
McKay shakes his head. "It's too late, they know we're here. I'll get the shield on-line-" He starts pushing buttons but stops abruptly when a white beam of light shines in the Gate Room. The soldiers on guard raise their weapons and Sheppard's on the move down the stairs to confront the incoming enemy with Ronon beside him.
A gray-haired man in green fatigues appears out of the light making Sheppard draw up short and stop, staring open mouthed. "Man, that never gets old," the newcomer says, grinning. He looks around, seeing most of the military lowering their weapons and saluting him—except Sheppard, who seems stunned. "At ease," the man says loudly and the soldiers relax. He takes in the view around him. "Nice."
"General?" Dr. Weir calls from the balcony. Ronon sees a big smile on her face as she races down the stairs to greet the newcomer. Caldwell and McKay follow instantly—the Daedalus Colonel doesn't look happy, not that he ever does, but McKay's grinning. "That was an Asguard ship," McKay says on his way down the stairs. "They weren't planning on staying…?"
"Nope, already gone," the man says and McKay's smile fades. "Dr. Weir." He steps over to Sheppard and shoves two boxes at the Colonel. "Hold these will you, Sheppard." He looks the Colonel over. "And close your mouth, you'll catch flies." He waves a hand in the air. "Or whatever bugs you have out here."
Sheppard grimaces at the word 'bugs' but takes the packages and closes his gaping mouth. He then smirks a little. "Nice to see you again, sir."
"Yeah. You too." He narrows his eyes at Sheppard's head. "Same haircut I see." Sheppard raises his brows and nods, scrunching up his face as he runs his free hand through the hair. The newcomer then glances briefly at Caldwell. "Colonel."
"General," Caldwell nods from his position still on the stairs. He seems to like remaining taller than everyone else as they gather at the base of the steps.
Dr. Weir stops in front of the General and immediately shakes his hand. She's smiling with relief. "I didn't expect this when I sent the message."
The man nods side-to-side and makes a face similar to Sheppard's. "Yeah, well. Had some time off…and a few markers to call in," he motions overhead.
"I always thought Dr. Jackson would be the first to join us from the SGC," McKay adds.
The General nods. "Yeah." He lifts a finger. "About that. Daniel doesn't know about this here little visit…and I'd like to keep it that way. He can be a bit…pissy on the subject."
Dr. Weir nods and Ronon sees a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "Ah, I see."
"I only have a small window to get back through the gate before he returns from an off-world mission, but I had to try..."
"I understand," Dr. Weir says.
"How long?" Sheppard asks.
"Two days." He turns to Dr. Weir again and lowers his voice. "How is she?"
Her smile falls and she shakes her head. "Doesn't look good. She's cat-"
"Catatonic, yeah…you mentioned."
She touches the man's arm. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for her."
"I only found out an hour before notifying you." He narrows his gaze. "Don't blame yourself, doctor. Obviously you can only do your best…" his gaze drifts over to Caldwell and it narrows further. "Given what you have to work with." Sheppard's had this look before…for someone called Kavanaugh. He calls it his 'eat-shit-and-die' glare.
Caldwell's face turns a slight shade of green and he glances away from the other man, who obviously has some power over the annoying Colonel which makes Ronon like the newcomer instantly.
"I got a crash course on the diagnosis," the General tells Dr. Weir and points to the boxes Sheppard's holding. "Brought some provisions." He shrugs. "Maybe they'll do the trick."
Dr. Weir glances at the boxes; she seems to know what's inside without even looking and she smiles. "I hope so. I've actually had supplies on order for several months. Enough for everyone. Dr. Zelenka helped with getting sizes. But…"
"I'll see if I can cut through some of that red-tape for you when I get back."
She grins and nods. "That'd be nice, sir."
Sheppard closes the gap, coming in front of Dr. Weir and the General. "General, sir,…how do you know Jax?" he whispers.
"She's a…special friend. Can't cook worth beans. Burn a salad if it was possible. But I suggest no one play chess with her, especially for money."
"Why's that?" McKay asks.
The man shrugs again and at the same time he speaks, so does Ronon. "She read a book on it once." Hearing the deep echo, the General widens his eyes, and turns his attention fully to Ronon, looks him over then offers his hand. "You must be Tarzan."
Ronon grips the man's hand firmly and shakes it as he saw Dr. Weir do. "Specialist Ronon Dex."
"Ah, Ronon Dex, of course. Nice…hair." He glances at Sheppard who shakes his head slightly.
"Ronon," Sheppard starts. "This is Gen. Jack O'Neill, head of Home World Security."
"General O'Neill…G.O.N.," Ronon says, looking the man up and down. When he catches his eyes, Ronon tilts his head. "The gift giver."
"That'd be me," he says, massaging his hand once it's free.
"You're older than I expected."
"Hmm. Yeah, well. That happens over the years." Still massaging his hand. "You should call her Cheetah if she mentions the Tarzan thing again," he grumbles.
Ronon grins, motions to Sheppard with his eyes. "That's what he said."
O'Neill looks to Sheppard. "Really?" Sheppard shrugs and makes the face again. "How'd she react?"
"She wanted to hurt someone," Ronon smirks, again looking at Sheppard, who's eyes open wide.
"I'm not surprised." O'Neill nods also smirking.
"If you'll excuse me," Caldwell says.
"Please, go about your business, Colonel. We'll speak later." With a curt nod and a bit of the green in his face again, Caldwell leaves, probably to return to his ship and sulk as Sheppard would say. The General leans in to quietly say something to Dr. Weir but Ronon's close enough to hear it. "Col. Stick-up-his-butt giving you any more problems?"
Dr. Weir chuckles. "Nothing I can't handle."
"I'm sure."
"Helps that he knows I have a…special friend as well."
"Hey, you got Kinsey fired…I'm in debt forever." O'Neill's smile slowly drops as he takes a deep breath and releases it. "So, where's my girl?"
"She's in a private room off the infirmary," Dr. Beckett states, joining the rest of the group at the bottom of the stairs. "She's still unresponsive, however."
"Well, we'll see about that." He looks at Ronon. "So, may I call you Ronon?"
"It's my name."
"Right. Lead the way." Ronon turns toward the corridor that heads to the infirmary and the General is right at his side. "I'd like to know your intentions towards the young lady," O'Neill says.
Still carrying the boxes, Sheppard follows with Dr. Weir next to him and Beckett behind. Ronon raises his brows, glancing back at Sheppard who is peeking inside the top box then he meets Ronon's gaze and his eyes quickly fill with fear. He shakes his head, eyes wide with pleading. Don't tell him anything, he mouths. Ronon narrows his gaze and grunts then looks at their visitor. "I was wondering the same thing about you, Jack."
O'Neill does a double-take upon hearing his first name, but doesn't object. "Consider her my… adopted daughter."
"Daughter?" Ronon nods and finds himself smiling. "Good to know." Ronon pauses a moment before adding: "Sir."