John had no idea how long it was before the tears finally eased and Mya loosened her grip and began to wriggle. Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced down at her face, streaked with drying tears. 'What is it?' He asked.
'Hungry,' she whispered.
Recalling Dr Beckett's advice before they left the infirmary, John grabbed his headset and made a couple of requests. A knock on the door a few minutes later had Mya jumping to her feet and crouching on the far side of the couch. Surprised at how quickly the supplies had arrived, John went to the door, turning on the lights as he did so and found Beckett in front of him.
'Doctor,' John greeted him, standing to one side to let him enter.
Mya was peering around the end of the couch to check if it was safe to show herself. Beckett, seeing the top of her head, held something in front of him and immediately Mya came out and raced towards him, snatching the object out of his hand.'
'Liz'beth!' She greeted the bear joyfully, not realising it was missing until now.
'Where did that come from?' John asked as he returned to the couch where Mya climbed back onto his lap.
'It was with the bundle of clothing Major Lorne was wrapped up in, one of the nurses spotted it and thought it's owner would like it back,' Beckett smiled at Mya who was now cuddling the bear, burying her face in it's fur.
'How is Lorne?'
'He's going to be fine. We've managed to bring his temperature back to normal but he'll need to remain under observation for a day or two just to make sure there aren't any complications.' Beckett returned his attention to Mya. 'I need to take a wee look at you, if that's alright.' He set about checking her temperature, blood pressure and pulse, all of which appeared to satisfy him. 'Well, your temperature is a little high but it's nothing to worry about. Apart from that, everything is normal. How are you doing?'
Mya looked at him solemnly, the sadness returning to her eyes. 'I miss mama and papa,' she told him gravely, tears threatening to begin again.
John and Beckett exchanged surprised looks as this was the first time Mya had spoken to anyone other than John. 'I know you do, love, but we're all here for you, just you remember that.' Beckett ruffled her hair gently. 'Colonel, I need to check your dressing.'
'That's really not necessary,' John tried to protest.
'Yes, it is,' Beckett spoke insistently.
'C'mon doc, can't I just stop by the infirmary tomorrow instead?'
'We're not going to argue about this are we?'
'Actually, I think we are. The wound's healing, it doesn't need you poking and prodding it.' Sheppard grimaced at the doctor then remembered Mya who was staring up at him, her eyes and mouth wide open in astonishment at the way he was behaving. 'On the other hand, perhaps it would just be better to get this over with,' he finally conceded.
As Mya moved away from John, Beckett caught her attention and winked, making her giggle.
'What was that?' John asked suspiciously, glaring at Beckett.
'Oh, nothing,' Carson said airily, proceeding to remove the dressing on John's side before covering it over with a fresh one. 'That's coming along very nicely. We should be able to remove the dressing completely in a few days. Now, I suggest you both have something to eat then get some rest. Give me a call if there are any problems, otherwise, stop by the infirmary in the morning. Good night.'
Just as Beckett was leaving, he stood to one side to make way for the arrival of two men, closely followed by someone from the kitchen. The first two had brought the extra bedding John had requested, the third was carrying a tray with warm milk, tea and sandwiches. Nodding his approval at the contents of the tray, Beckett left to return to the infirmary.
Meanwhile, John had the men put the bedding and cot on the floor beside the bed and the tray of food on the low table beside the couch before dismissing them all with a word of thanks.
'Come and get it,' John smiled at Mya who had been wandering around his room looking at his possessions, making herself as small as possible to avoid being noticed by the men who had just left. As she sat back down, John handed her the warm milk and a couple of sandwiches before helping himself. He pulled a face at the tea, preferring coffee as a rule, and suspected that Beckett had already spoken to the kitchen to advise on what they should be sending him.
Shrugging, he went ahead and drank the tea and ate a couple of sandwiches hungrily having forgotten how long it had been since he last had anything to eat. At the same time, he kept an eye on Mya, watching as she readily drank the milk but only took a couple of bites of sandwich. He managed to persuade to finish half her sandwich, but gave up on pushing any further, turning instead to the sleeping arrangements.
'Ok, let's get this blanket back on the bed,' he spoke half to himself, half to Mya who was watching him. 'You're going to sleep much better if you get changed into something more comfortable. How about this?' He'd been rummaging through his drawers to see what he could find, producing a t-shirt that would serve as a night-shirt for her and ushered her into the bathroom to get changed.
Sighing, he spread the blankets out on the cot until he had a half-reasonable bed made up. A few moments later Mya returned, the t-shirt hanging very loosely around her small frame and she climbed into the bed.
'It's time you got some sleep,' John smiled at Mya as she sat up in bed, teddy bear tucked in beside her. 'Good night.'
He turned to settle himself on the cot when he realised Mya was sitting exactly where he had left her.
'Something wrong?' He asked.
'Story?' Mya asked hopefully, glancing away shyly at the boldness of her request.
'Ah,' John nodded. 'So you liked the other story I told you?' Mya nodded and shifted to make room so he could sit beside her. Taking his time to make himself as comfortable as possible, he racked his brains for a suitable story, eventually dredging up the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. 'Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a village near the forest. Whenever, she went out, the little girl wore a red riding cloak, so everyone in the village called her Little Red Riding Hood.' As the story began, Mya settled down joyfully to listen.
John became so caught up in the story that he didn't notice for some time that Mya had fallen asleep before he had chance to finish. Tucking her in gently so as not to wake her, he returned to the couch and rolled himself up in one of the blankets, falling asleep himself almost immediately.
He had only been asleep for a short time when he sensed something was wrong. Normally he would wake in an instant, rarely sleeping so heavily that it was hard to rouse himself, but the stresses of this particular day combined with the fact that he was still recovering from an injury meant it took him a few minutes to figure out what was going on and why he wasn't sleeping in his bed. The moment he realised what it was that had woken him, instinct took over and before he knew what was happening, he was at Mya's side, holding her until she had calmed down enough to tell him what was wrong.
'It was mama and papa, and all the others,' Mya whispered to him as she clung desperately to him for reassurance. 'I could hear them. Mama told papa to hide me and then they took her to be with the others. Papa tried to do what she said but they followed us and then he was gone but you were there.'
'And you've been dreaming about it,' John pulled a face as he tried to figure out the best way of helping her. 'Teyla tells me your father was a healer.'
'He was very good,' Mya told him. 'Once my friend hurt herself really badly when she fell out of a tree but he helped her get better. He used to let me help him - we'd go to the forest to collect herbs and berries and he'd tell me what they could be used for. I wanted to be just like him.'
'What was your mum like?' John breathed a sigh of relief that he'd managed to hit on something that seemed to be working.
'She was really pretty,' Mya's voice became dreamy as she began to remember. 'She had wavy brown hair and she was always smiling. All my friends liked her and she would make up games for us to play. It was mama who found the play-house for us. She used to tell me stories at bedtime.'
'What kind of stories?'
'Well, they were like the ones Marcus told me earlier. He told me about a really slow animal with a shell and another animal that hopped really fast and they had a race and the fast animal was so far ahead he stopped to go to sleep and the one with the shell just kept going and won the race. I liked it, it reminded me of mama.'
'And thinking of her is a good thing,' John told her. 'How about I finish the story I started earlier?' Mya nodded eagerly, waiting impatiently as John leaned back against the wall and put his feet up before asking where he'd got to before.
'The little girl was picking flowers in the woods,' Mya prompted him, wriggling to make herself more comfortable, using John's chest as a pillow.
'Right,' John glanced down to make sure Mya was settled before continuing. 'Little Red Riding Hood had picked a whole armful of flowers before she noticed that a wolf had arrived. The wolf used his politest voice to talk to Little Red Riding Hood.' John carried on with the story and got to the end this time before Mya smiled contentedly, yawned and fell fast asleep. John stayed where he was for a few minutes, wanting to make sure she was properly asleep before he moved her, but when he tried to untangle himself she began to whimper and he resigned himself to remaining there a little while longer.
He was still there and fast asleep when a polite cough woke him the following morning. He opened his eyes, blinked a few times to bring the room into focus and saw Dr Beckett standing just inside the room, his mouth twitching in amusement.
'Something funny?' John asked, trying to maintain an icy stare but betrayed by the dryness in his throat that made his voice croaky.
'Well, the two of you just make such a sweet picture, makes me wish I had my camera,' Beckett told him unrepentantly before changing the subject. 'Just thought I'd stop by to see how you're both faring this morning.'
'What time is it?'
'Nearly lunchtime,' Beckett replied. 'When you didn't turn up in the infirmary I thought I'd better stop off to make sure everything was alright.'
John rolled his neck to loosen up some of the stiffness from having slept in an awkward position before extracting himself from the still sleeping Mya. 'She had some nightmares, but we talked through it all and then she eventually fell asleep. I think she's going to be alright.' John glanced down at the bed, then bent over Mya as he noticed that something wasn't right.
'Doc!' Sheppard called out sharply bringing Beckett to his side in an instant. 'What's wrong?' John asked anxiously as he hovered at Beckett's shoulder, barely leaving him enough room for his examination.
'I'm not entirely sure, but I suspect it's a respiratory infection of some kind,' Beckett told him as he checked Mya's temperature and listened to her chest. 'Children often develop fevers with minor infections but I'd like to move her to the infirmary where I can keep an eye on her. There is a danger that she's picked something up that her immune system may not be able to handle.'
Nodding acceptance of Beckett's verdict, John scooped Mya up from the bed and headed for the infirmary, ignoring the discomfort he could feel in his side.
'Why don't you let me...'
'No,' John interrupted Beckett's offer of assistance. 'I'm good.'
Shrugging his acceptance of the Colonel's protectiveness of the child, Beckett made a mental note to give Sheppard a full check-up at the first opportunity, although he suspected that on this occasion he wouldn't have much difficulty keeping him in the infirmary.
As soon as they arrived in the infirmary, Beckett led the way into one of the smaller rooms where John put Mya on to a bed while Beckett busied himself with gathering the tools of his trade to enable him to carry out a more thorough examination.
Mya woke as Beckett returned, looking confused at finding herself in a different place from where she went to sleep.
'It's alright,' John hurriedly assured her. 'We're in the infirmary.'
'Feel sick,' Mya mumbled as her face turned slightly green and Beckett was only just in time to thrust a bowl in front of her to catch the contents of her stomach as she was violently sick. By the time she had finished, she was crying and looked really small and vulnerable. John sat beside her and gathered her into a hug and succeeded in calming her down by the time Beckett returned a few minutes later.
When John tried to move away to allow Beckett to take a look at her, Mya clung to him desperately, refusing to let him go. Looking helplessly at Beckett, John seated himself more securely on the bed and lifted Mya onto his lap where Becket could carry out his examination.
'Well, what is it?' John asked impatiently as soon as Beckett had finished, gently rocking Mya. 'Is she going to be alright?'
'It looks like tonsillitis,' Carson told him.
'Doesn't that mean an operation? Will she be alright?'
'The tonsils aren't normally removed these days unless there are complications. She should start to feel better in a day or two but I'd like to keep her here until the symptoms start to improve so she can be monitored.'
'Ok,' John readily accepted Beckett's authority on the situation.
'I think she's fallen asleep,' Carson nodded at Mya. 'Here, let me.' He picked up the sleeping child to allow John to stand before tucking her back into bed.
'How come all the chairs in here are so damn' uncomfortable,' John complained as he brought something to sit on.
One of the nurses had come in shortly after Beckett had left to fetch some medication, changing Mya into fresh scrubs and sponging down her hands and face to freshen her up a little, but Mya had slept through it all. A short time after the nurse left, Mya woke again.
'John!' She croaked from a very sore throat, giving him a weak smile.
John gave her some water to sip to ease her throat a little. 'How are you feeling?'
'Throat hurts,' Mya told him, finding it easier to whisper. 'Everywhere hurts.'
'I know, Dr Beckett will be back in a minute to give you something to make you feel a little better.' John told her. 'He says you've got something called tonsillitis - your throat becomes painful when it tries to fight an infection. That's what's making you feel so sore. He says you should start to feel better in a couple of days.'
Mya nodded her understanding of this information, being the daughter of a healer making her more familiar with illness than most children would be. 'Will you stay with me?' She whispered, the fear that she would be left alone showing in her eyes.
'Course I will. Doc says I need to take things easy for a while until my side heals,' John told her. 'I may as well do that here as anywhere else.'
Looking a little happier now, Mya closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep again just as Beckett returned.
'She was awake just now,' John informed Beckett, watching as he administered the medication. 'She's feeling pretty sorry for herself, but I think she understands what's wrong. She asked me to stick around, though I really can't understand why.' He pulled a face.
'Hold on.' Beckett disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a piece of paper that he passed to a confused John. 'This might shed some light on it.'
John studied the picture, his quick mind picking up on the significance of the two figures although not understanding about the stars.
'Mya was bringing this to you yesterday but dropped it when she ran off,' Carson explained.
'Ok, so...' John left the sentence unfinished, waiting for Beckett to fill in the gaps.
'We - Dr Weir and myself, that is - think the stars represent the people in Mya's village, the two largest are her parents, looking down to make sure she's being taken care of, and you're the one that Mya's expecting to fill that role because her father handed her into your care.' Carson looked at John's face, trying to determine what he made of this.
John sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face tiredly, but nodding his understanding of what Beckett had said. 'Teyla said something similar,' he admitted. 'I thought maybe it was just her interpretation of events but now...'
'Now you feel responsible for her, and not just because you feel it's your duty,' Carson filled in the blanks. 'There's a bond between the two of you.'
'C'mon, doc,' John tried to protest, looking extremely uncomfortable as Beckett began to touch on the truth.
'When you were alone back there on the planet, you took responsibility for each other - you got her to safety and she looked after you when you were sick. You're reacting on instinct, looking out for her as a parent would. It's there in most of us, son, and it's probable that in the same circumstances any one of us would be feeling the same as you are now.'
'So what happens now?' John cleared his throat awkwardly.
'I really don't know,' Carson admitted. 'You'll just have to deal with each situation as it arises. Now,' Carson moved towards the door, 'you need to get some rest. I'll have another bed made up for you - you might as well be as comfortable as possible.'
'You're a good man, doc.'
Beckett grinned at the unaccustomed praise - no-one ever seemed to thank him when they were the patient, although he was aware his services were highly valued by the crew of Atlantis - then left the two of them alone.
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To be continued...
The Stargate, Atlantis, the characters, stories and anything else that is seen in the show belong to the people who made them up. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author