A/N: the character of Chandrapurna is Mice's and used with permission

Chapter 3

Give it time they told him.

Give it time? It had already been five long days since Rodney had talked him into sitting in the damn chair. Five days and he was still on light duty. And that was after two days of not being allowed to do anything. Who would have thought that living in another galaxy could be boring, but somehow it managed.

Truth be told, though, Beckett knew he wasn't ready to return to full duty. He felt jumpy, always too on edge. And he wasn't bloody sure why. Neither was Chandrapurna. The doctor had said all his tests had come back fine. Even his chats over tea with Kate Heightmeyer had gone well. He was eating well and sleeping reasonably well. He was even back up to his usual workout routine in the gym. But something was still off. So the three of them agreed Beckett would take it easy for the time being, Carson being oblivious to how his easy acquiescence worried both his colleagues.

Beckett made a mental note to ask McKay if this was some sort of undefined universal constant, that doctors made the worst patients. Although given the extent to which McKay would gripe and moan, at least one corollary would also have to be defined regarding physicists. McKay's Law. He smiled at the thought.

He had been spending most of his time in his lab. It was quiet there, with few interruptions. Today, though, he was back in the infirmary. No teams were off world at the moment, so the infirmary was on light staffing. Chandrapurna was probably still sleeping, having been on the mid-shift. Biro and another doctor were on the mainland doing a clinic for the Athosians. For now, that left Beckett. He knew two of the nurses were near by to keep an eye on him, and he found their watchfulness acceptable. They weren't hovering, they knew him too well for that. They just stayed close enough so he could call for their help if needed.

So it was almost with a sense of relief when Montoya, one of the multi-purpose technicians, came limping in. Supporting most of his weight was another one of the technicians, Sigursson, the name was. Beckett gestured at a treatment table and the two limped over. "Thank you," Beckett said to Sigursson. "You'll wait?" With a nod, the man headed to the waiting area as Beckett shifted his attention to his patient.

"Well, lad, what happened?"

"We were trying to fix one of the equipment racks. It kinda fixed me instead."

"That it did," Taking a quick look at the torn cloth and the bloody thigh, Beckett sighed. "I'm going to need to get at that. Looks like either you take your pants off, lad, or I cut them off. Which will it be?"

"I don't have that much in the way of extra clothes, sir." smiling ruefully, Montoya added "and I don't need another pair of cut-offs"

"Off with them, then." Deftly, Beckett reached down and undid Montoya's shoes, gently sliding them and the socks off. "Can you get the rest or do you need help?" As Montoya indicated he could undress by himself, Beckett pulled the privacy screen around the bed and began gathering supplies. A few moments later, he came back around, hooking a stool with his foot and pulling it over to the bed. Montoya was stretched out, the gash in his thigh still oozing blood. His face was a little pale and had one arm covering his eyes so he didn't have to look.

"You doing all right?"

Eyes still covered, Montoya nodded. "It just hurts a bit. Don't like the look of blood. Especially my own."

"Red's not my favorite color either," Carson set down the gauze and other supplies. "Just a few stitches, but you'll be fine." He draped a light blanket over the technician for modesty and warmth. Then taking up a cloth and saline to cleaning the wound, Beckett grasped the leg.

And gasped, nearly falling off the stool as he felt pain stabbing through his own thigh.

"Doc?" Montoya had heard the sharp intake of breath. "You ok?"

Beckett stumbled to his feet. The searing pain faded to a dull ache as he broke contact, but the shock remained. "Aye, lad, I'm fine. Just a cramp. I forgot a few supplies. Be right back."

Staggering out, he fell against a cabinet, leaning on it heavily for support. A Dhia! I felt that! The pain faded more as he fought for calm, trying to force his breathing to a deep, slow rhythm.

"Doc? You sure you're ok?" Montoya's worried voice came from behind the curtain.

"Aye, lad. Nae but a twinge. They've had me sitting too much," Grabbing an extra bottle of saline, he returned to Montoya. This time when he touched the man, the flaring pain was not such a surprise.

Beckett let his training take over as he tended his patient. Methodically he cleaned the wound, assessing the depth of the cut and the amount of damage. Not too bad, he thought. Numb the area, help hold the torn flesh together, and the body would heal itself, muscle and skin and veins knitting themselves whole again, part of the miracle that was life.

"Are you done already?"

Startled from his thoughts, Beckett looked up. "Pardon?"

"I didn't even fell a needle or sting and the pain's gone. You're done already?"

Confused, Beckett shook his head. "No, I haven't even..." Carson looked at the tray where the local anesthetic still rested then looked back at the leg. His brow furrowed as he saw the wound had closed. The area was still red and a little swollen, but new skin already forming.

A moment, then he realized the pain in his own leg was gone.

Thoughts racing, he placed a few layers of gauze over the wound and taped it down. "You must have dozed off while I was working," he said, feigning normality. "It wasn't as bad as I first thought, didn't need stitches after all."

Finished bandaging, he smiled reassuringly at the young man. "Just keep the area covered and stay off the leg as much as you can for the next few days. I think it will heal before you know it."

A few minutes later and Montoya was dressed. Beckett escorted him out, watching as he was greeted by Sigursson, the two technicians talking animatedly for a moment. Then Montoya was waving goodbye as he walked out, not even limping. Beckett sighed, dropping the clipboard he had been holding to make himself look busy. He hadn't wanted the man to linger.

"Marie?" he called to the duty nurse, "Be a love and ask Anand to come in early? I need to talk with him. Kate too."

The next morning had dawned when Weir quietly entered the lab. The source of her concern was right where she expected him to be, sitting in front of his laptop. His left hand held a mug of tea, his right was was pushing the mouse around, occasionally tapping a few keys.

She watched him.

At first glance, all looked normal. But she could see the circles under his eyes and the thicker than usual scruff of whiskers. And his hair definitely looked more like Major Sheppard's. On a bad day.

She was worried. Carson Beckett was a man being worn down by the trials of the last several days and changes she couldn't begin to imagine.

"Elizabeth."

The soft voice broke her from her reverie. She blinked, a little started to find Beckett's eyes focused on her.

"Carson." At his slight nod, she joined him at the table, though on the opposite side. "I just finished talking with Drs. Heightmeyer and Chandrapurna."

Setting his mug on the table, he tapped the keys to save whatever he had been working on, then leaned back into the chair. "You did, then. Good. I had asked they speak with you first."

"I also talked with Dr. McKay," she held up a calming hand as Beckett started to react. "I only asked him how things were going in analyzing the new chair. He said he and Radek had not yet been able to decipher anything."

"Not too surprising," shrugged Carson. "It all seems to be rather...complex."

"And he still sounded rather put upon that no one else has been able to get more than a decent glow of that room; nothing like you did." Weir had been moving around the table as they talked, gradually shifting closer to Beckett in a way that was less threatening then just invading his space. She saw him watching her and was relieved to see he his slight smile as he recognized her maneuvering. Good. "So is it true, what Kate tells me"
"Aye." His blue eyes still locked with her brown, then Carson looked down. "It seems my experience with the chair wasn't so harmless. Anand, Kate and I have run through what tests we can think of, made up a few of our own. This seems to be real."

"It's incredible. We knew their technology was advanced. We've seen so much and learned so much. But to do this?"

Beckett shrugged, hearing her growing enthusiasm but unable to match it.

Weir saw his lack of reaction and sobered instantly, "Carson, I'm sorry. How are you doing?"

"Not too bad as long as I don't think about it," Carson gave a small, sad laugh without humor.

"Carson?"

"Ever since I knew I wanted to be a doctor, I've always imagined what it would be like to heal with a touch," Meeting her eyes again, he held out his hands. "Now I know. I healed Montoya. No drugs, no machines, no magik wands. Just me." Sighing, he asked, "Elizabeth, how do I deal with this?"

She started to reach for his hands, intending to offer comfort. But she stopped, not knowing how he would react.

He realized what she was thinking and was the one to close the gap. His hands were warm as they enclosed hers. "Its ok."

She tightened her grip. "You're not alone in this, Carson. You have friends here. We'll help you."

"I know. It's just...I'm scared and excited and confused and I really don't know what to do. Its all so much."

"We'll figure that out, one step at a time. Lots of smart brains around here to help, once they know."

"Lovely," Beckett grimaced at the thought. "So you're sayin' its time to tell them, then?"

Her grip on his hands was still firm. Confident. "It is. John and Rodney at least." Then an impish grin lit her face, and Carson felt his mood lift just a little, wondering had been her thought. "You realize Rodney's going to be insanely jealous, don't you?"

That brought a smile to Beckett's face. "Aye, he will at that." His smile grew wider, "Almost makes this worthwhile."

Weir had called the meeting for later that day, insisting Beckett first get some lunch and fresh air. With Beckett's permission, she had already told Sheppard and McKay the gist of what was going on, hoping that it would make the session easier on Beckett. She was right. Sort of.

"So, Carson," McKay started, not wasting time with any greetings or idle chitchat. "Elizabeth tells us that chair did a number on you."

"Aye, Rodney. It was all your fault and thank you for putting it so tactfully," Beckett said somewhat crossly. Not five seconds into this and already he was feeling on the defensive.

"Well it did, didn't it? She said you can heal with a touch? This goes so far beyond anything we've found with the ancient technology! So show us how it works."

"You're not injured, Rodney."

"Actually, yes I am." McKay held out his hand, which Beckett now realized had been tucked against McKay's chest. From where he was sitting, Beckett could see the wrist didn't look quite right.

"Rodney!" Dismayed, Beckett stood and moved around table to his patient.

"Rodney," Weir's tone was defiantly a warning.

"Hey," McKay looked offended as only he could. "Despite what you may think, I actually did not purposefully do this just so I could get a demo of Carson's new super powers."

"Rodney," now Beckett's voice held the warning.

"Carson," responded McKay in a similar tone. "Dr. Kusanagi left a container where it shouldn't have been. I tripped over the damned thing. Spilled water everywhere. Then I slipped. Thus said injury."

"I can vouch for that, Doc," Sheppard added. "It was quite impressive, the way he tried not to fall. Very dramatic. Arms flailing and all. He should have taken up ballet or maybe break dancing."

"Funny, Major. Next time you want to help?" McKay glared, "Don't."

"I ought to call Biro up here. Let her deal with you. Or just let you suffer."

"Not fair, Carson. You can't do that," McKay protested, cradling his injured hand. The movement had caused the pain to flare. "It hurts. Really."

Beckett's stance softened, and he moved to take the injured limb, "As much as I might want to when you do something this daft, No, I can't."

"Carson..." Weir gently reached out a hand.

Beckett paused, looking into her concerned eyes. "It's all right, luv. This one shan't be too bad, I think." A small smile touched his face, but not really reaching his eyes. "Besides, it will help them understand."

Sheppard raised an eyebrow at that. There was at least a little something more going on then they had been told about.

The nuance went right past McKay. He was bouncing on his feet, though whether in renewed pain or excitement it was hard to say. "This is so cool. I mean, if there's a chair that turns Carson into super doctor," Though his mouth was running at full tilt, McKay was watching with rapt attention as Beckett took his arm. This was going to be so amazing. "There must be one somewhere that'll turn me into...more smart than I already am...if that's possible. So work your voodoo. And it really is voodoo now, isn't it Carson?"

He looked up to Beckett's face for confirmation and was startled to see pain briefly reflected there. "Carson?" Suddenly McKay had his own suspicions. This wasn't quite so much fun any more and he tried to pull his hand free. Beckett held him firm, too experienced with recalcitrant patients. "Carson, what's wrong?"

"Stay quiet, would you Rodney? You're not helping."

Doing as he was told, McKay stood still, amazed as he felt a warmth infuse his hand and wrist, replacing the nagging pain. Another moment, then Beckett released his hand. "There you go, I think. Not too bad. Nothing was broken."

"Carson, I..."

"Yes, Rodney?"

"She wasn't joking. You really can heal."

"Aye."

"But your face, what I saw. It hurts you?"

"Aye."

"I don't understand."

"You didn't ask." McKay blinked at the slight rebuke.

Beckett stepped back, placing a protective distance between himself and the others. "As Elizabeth told you, that chair did something to me. I can heal by touch. Anand, Kate and I ran a few trials to confirm," He rubbed his face tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose before threading his fingers through his dark hair. "Best we understand, I just know what's wrong," Then he shook his head. "That's not quite right. I do know what's wrong, I'm a doctor after all."

"Carson," McKay looked like he was ready to interrupt.

"Rodney, please. Let me just tell this," He looked at his friend, pleading for his understanding. "But I don't just know what's wrong...I feel what's wrong. And I can make it right."

McKay and Sheppard stood rapt as they listened to Carson. Weir was nearby, a sheltering presence.

"Fortunately, this...ability... doesn't work on every little scrape. There's something of a lower threshold. Otherwise, I'd know how someone felt every time I touched them." Beckett shuddered and paled. "I wouldn't be able to touch anyone. I couldn't live like that."

"So what are you... I mean, what now?"

"Next? Tests. Many more tests with Anand and Kate. We're trying to identify the extent of my...new talent." Beckett looked at them earnestly, and just a bit fearfully. "I'd appreciate you keeping this quiet. I'm just not ready for the whole base to know."

"Of course, Doc." McKay and Sheppard immediately nodded their agreement.

"Rodney," Weir stepped in. "We'd also appreciate the help of you and Dr. Zelenka. I know you've already done a fair bit of analysis on the chair and you've shared your reports with Dr. Chandrapurna. But now we'd like that part of the effort to be more joint between the sciences and medical."

"Of course. Whatever you need. God, Carson, whatever I can do to help." McKay started to reach for Beckett, wanting to offer comfort in some way. But he stopped, unsure what the contact would do.

Beckett's eyes clouded as he saw the hesitation. He felt a sudden need to be away. "You'll have to excuse me. I'm a wee bit tired, and Anand will have be having my hide if I don't rest. Rodney, I'll talk with you tomorrow? We'll be needin' your help with the tests."

Sheppard lightly touched Beckett's arm as he started to leave. He felt reassured when the man didn't flinch, but actually looked at him gratefully. "Let us know what you need, Carson."

Another light touch and McKay was there, too. "We'll get this figured out, Carson."

Beckett nodded without conviction. "Thanks. I'll... I'll see you later."

They watched, concerned, as Beckett left.

"Gem."

"What?" McKay looked at Sheppard, not understanding the non sequitur.

"Gem," Sheppard repeated. "This is like that episode of Star Trek where they run into a woman who can heal by touch."

"So you're comparing him to Dr. McCoy again. That helps how? What are we going to do?"

Weir joined them. "I've already scheduled a meeting for tomorrow with Chandrapurna and Heightmeyer," she said. "Carson, too. We'll see if we can figure out how to understand what's happened. And what Carson will need."

"Yeah. And we'll have to start calling him Bones, at least until he learns this is real life and not TV."

fini

A/N: And so ends the first part of the story; constructive criticsm is most welcome. Two more parts are in the works, my muse, the fates and Murphy willing.