Warnings: Blood, suffering that sort of thing.

Disclaimers: I do not own this world, just playing in this fantastic world of make-believe.

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Flickers of light and shadow danced across her eyelids, drawing her attention to focus on the myriad of sounds around her. Chemical smells assaulted her nose and voices bounced around her head. For a few moments her consciousness surfaced, but weakened by the sensual assault she sank back down into the comfort of a deep empty sleep.

Across the busy infirmary John Sheppard watched her still frame willing her to move, to show some sign of regaining strength. He was meant to be on the way to a meeting, but he could not help but walk by the infirmary. He stood just back from the doorway, hoping to be unseen. He wanted desperately to go sit by her, stroke her hand and try anything to bring her out of her coma. He officially visited her several times a day, but in truth he stood in the hallway and checked on her perhaps a hundred times a day, he wasn't sure. Carson had settled her inert form on her right side so as not to lie on her wound allowing them to change the dressing regularly. Consequently she faced the door which meant he could stand in the hallway and still see her without anyone in the infirmary seeing him.

She was so pale and still, though not as death like as when he had found her.

In his mind he was back in the alien forest, reliving the horrible sequence once again. He had been stamping his way through the alien forest, calling her name, his calls mixing with those of the other search teams stretched around the forest. The early morning sun had been streaming through the canopy above him, causing a mist of steam to curl up from the damp chilled vegetation. Through the lush greenery he had seen a flash of a dark colour among some greenery at the base of a massive tree. Heading towards the out of place colour he had prayed once again that it was her and not another dead body. He would not allow himself to think she might already be dead. He would find her.

And he did. He had stepped around some particularly thick shrubbery and her hair came into view. She was lying on her side in the thick vegetation, her skin as white as the mist gathering around him. He dropped down to his knees beside her, all thoughts had fled him. He couldn't bear to reach out and touch her, what if she was dead? Trembling fingers pressed against her freezing throat and he waited. Time had seemed to slow to a crawl around him as he willed awareness into his cold fingertips. And then, he felt pressure under his fingers. A slow, weak pulse – but it was there.

"Carson!" He had screamed over his shoulder with abandon. His training had finally kicked back in and he began very gently brushing down her arms and legs, looking for injuries. Her clothes had been horribly chilled through and damp, but when his hand brushed her uppermost side he felt the tell-tale stickiness of blood. As he began to peal back her jacket, he had heard the rush of boots through the grasses behind him. Carson would fix her, he had to. They weren't too late. He couldn't fail her.

Carson had dropped down on Teyla's other side and felt her pulse, watching as John pulled her layered jacket away from her side. What John saw had made his throat constrict. A massive cut stretched from her left hip up through her side, disappearing up her ribcage. She had lost so much blood. From the looks of it she had attempted to tie up the wound, but the cut was so large and if she had had to run from the wraith… John cursed himself once again for not going with her or he should have stunned her and carried her through the stargate over his shoulder! Through his anger he had become aware that Carson had been talking to him, pushing him out of the way. John felt Ronon's strong hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from Teyla.

"Sheppard, let him work. Let him help her." Ronon's words had brought John back from his self-recriminations. He should focus on her, not his own regrets.

And for the past three days she had remained unmoving in the infirmary. Carson had pumped her body with blood, saline and antibiotics. All they could do was hope she had enough strength left to come back to them.

She looked so small to John, so vulnerable. He never thought he would think of Teyla that way and it frightened him in a way he had not experienced before. He had often said that Teyla was one of the strongest people he had ever met; surely she was strong enough to pull out of the coma? He realised he was starring at her face, willing her to wake. He wished he could give her his strength, and he realised he would give her anything. Then why was he standing in the hallway?

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The world came slowly to her. First flickers of bright coloured light across her eyes as her eyelids cracked open. The world around her was too loud and vibrant. She closed her eyes as a sharp familiar pain laced through her side. Pressing her face into the soft warm cushions beneath her cheek, she attempted to return to sleep, but the chaos around her could not be ignored. Then through the confusion and stress of it all, came a sudden gentle touch to her hair. A gentle caress, the touch was warm and comforting. She thought she heard a voice, somehow familiar and soothing. A deep masculine voice that tempted her to wake. Then another voice cut through the deep one asking her questions. She needed everything to stop being so loud and demanding, to just be left alone with the gentle touch stroking her hair and whispering how safe she was.

"Teyla!" Carson's voice snapped her awake suddenly. Her mind returned in complete clarity and she looked up through blurry eyes to see Carson and John looking down at her. Their faces expressed both concern and joy. They were talking to her, but she felt too sleepy to understand.

"At…lan…tis?" Her voice sounded hollow and felt dry in her throat.

"Aye, lass. You're safe on Atlantis. You gave us a right scare, Teyla. Do you need anything? Some water?" Carson's voice was kind and soothed her. She accepted a small cup of water from John and drew a little liquid in through the straw. She couldn't help a small gasp at her side as she moved.

"Be careful, that wound will take some time to heal completely. Take your time; your body has gone through a lot. If you need me press the button. Ok?" She nodded and uttered a quiet thanks to him as he stepped away. She felt what little strength she had drain away again. Resting down against the pillow she closed her eyes.

Beside her she heard a chair being drawn up. She managed to open her eyes enough to see John sitting beside her. He was studying her with a deep look of concern in his eyes. She tried what she hoped was a smile and saw his expression soften. Her eyes glided shut and she relaxed into a healing sleep. As the world faded around her she was sure she could feel a gentle caress against her cheek.

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To Be Continued…