SILENT SACRIFICE...part 11
Ronon hated being still. He felt trapped by his weakness and by the heavy cast that encased his leg. His fever had finally broken, although Beckett was still pumping stuff into him through the things he called IV bags. He couldn't help but wonder if that was why he was feeling nauseous. Beckett told him it was because he was trying to eat too much, too soon.
Eating was a joy. That and feeling clean again. A sponge bath, as the nurse called it, was enough to make Ronon happy. McKay had complained that it wasn't good enough and Beckett had told him he was stuck in traction for a few more days, then they would discuss the possibility of a shower. It had comforted Ronon to hear McKay complaining and to see him eat.
He wished Sheppard would wake up and start eating. From his bed to Sheppard's left, he could look at the man and swear he could see bone through skin. Ronon blamed himself for not realizing the fact that Sheppard was starving himself to make certain that he and McKay had enough to eat. Ronon wanted Sheppard to wake up and start shoveling down plate after plate of food, even though Beckett had told him that Sheppard's recovery would be slow.
It would start faster if Sheppard would just wake up already. But Beckett had stated that Sheppard was exhausted and that his sleep was deep and healing. Although when he said it, the doctor looked worried and uncertain, even though he had hastened to reassure Ronon that it really was a good thing.
Ronon was still watching Sheppard, willing the man to move or something, when one of the nurses came by. She checked his temperature, fussed over him in other ways, then settled a tray table with a plate of food in front of him. Not the fare he would prefer, but Beckett had warned him that his stomach wasn't ready for rich and heavy foods yet. So Ronon got broth with a bit of something called rice in it, and two pieces of toast. But at least he got it six times a day and Beckett promised he could have stew tomorrow, so long as he was able to keep everything he ate down today.
"Thanks," Ronon said, his tone gruff, as he reached for the spoon. He made himself take his time eating, wanting it to last. Wanting to savor the heat of it as well as the taste and the scent of it. He was no stranger to going hungry, and thanks to Sheppard's sacrifice, he hadn't really felt hunger during their ordeal, but the memory of his days as a runner lingered as it always did and Ronon appreciated what he had in this place. What Sheppard and Atlantis offered him.
So he ate slowly, one eye still on Sheppard, willing the man to wake up and begin his own journey back to good health.
OoO
Rodney was bored. He was stuck, flat on his back, rigged to some stupid traction device. Which, when he wasn't busy bitching at Beckett, he had to admit did make him feel better. Being pain free felt wonderful and Rodney savored every minute of it. But it still left him feeling bored. To the point where he looked forward to the six times a day he was allowed to sit semi upright to eat. But it had only been three days since their return and Beckett said he had at least three more days in traction. He would die of boredom by then.
He calculated how much longer before the nurse would come with food. Ronon was off taking a short walk with Beckett and some Physical therapy guy. Only because the Satedan had hounded Beckett about getting back up on his feet again. Rodney could sympathize, even though a part of him was thoroughly content to be stuck in the infirmary, where it was safe and warm and they had plenty of food.
Of course Carson wouldn't give him anything but broth and toast, which Rodney understood in theory. But he was dying for a donut, then maybe some chicken. And was getting ready to bribe a nurse to bring him something chocolate. He would also have given his left arm for a cup of coffee, which Beckett told him was out of the question for at least a week.
Figuring out that he had at least twenty minutes before food would arrive, Rodney turned his head to watch Sheppard sleep. The man had stirred a bit yesterday and Rodney had called out to him, but then he had gone still again. It scared him to see the Colonel so still and pale. And thin. God, it was painful to look at how thin he was and Rodney felt a twinge of guilt. He was a genius, so how the hell had he missed the fact that Sheppard was starving himself.
Carson had talked to him and Ronon about Sheppard's condition, warning them both that it would be a slow recovery for the Colonel. It surprised Rodney to think that it wasn't just a simple matter of Sheppard getting some real sleep and eating some real food. Beckett was certain that Sheppard wouldn't be able to gain weight back easily, and Rodney had argued that the Colonel wasn't some anorexic thirteen year old girl.
A fifteen minute lecture, which had sounded more like a rant, and Beckett had Rodney convinced that he knew what he was talking about. Rodney vowed to do some research about starvation and such when he finally got his hands on a laptop. Elizabeth had also talked to him about Sheppard, letting Rodney know more details. Such as the fact that Sheppard had been a POW eight years ago and had suffered starvation then and that it hadn't been easy for him to get back to his fighting weight then either. Hence a part of the reason why Beckett was so concerned now.
Rodney had looked at Ronon, who had been listening, and the Runner hadn't seemed all that surprised by what they had been told. He supposed the big guy had some familiarity with starvation after seven years on the run. It frustrated Rodney a bit to know that they were home and safe but that the hard part of their ordeal wasn't over and done with. Beckett had warned them that the healing process for all three of them would take longer than the two weeks to get them in their present condition. Sometimes life really sucked the big one. This was one of those times.
Closing his eyes, because it bothered Rodney to see how thin and bony Sheppard's arms were as they lay on the blankets, Rodney said a little prayer to whatever deity might be listening. Even though he didn't believe in a higher spiritual being, he figured it couldn't hurt to say something since he knew Sheppard believed. Then he whispered softly, "Come on, Colonel, wake up and fight the good fight. We've still got a lot of work to do here, so no slacking off."
Squinting one eye open, Rodney stared at Sheppard's pale profile but the man didn't stir a muscle. So Rodney let his eye close again, drifting off into darkness. Maybe when he woke up again, this will have all been nothing more than a bad dream.
OoO
John's thoughts felt sluggish. He was drifting in cool darkness and there were muffled sounds and the sense of movement around him. He knew there was something he should be doing but he couldn't focus enough to remember what. And then it hit him like a kick in the gut. Rodney and Ronon. They needed him. He couldn't lie about until they were rescued. So John forced his eyes open, blinking hard to clear his blurred vision.
Carson had been checking Sheppard's vitals when he saw his eyelids flutter. Then to the Scot's amazement, Sheppard opened his eyes. Leaning over him, Carson asked, "Colonel? Can you hear me?" No reaction. He tapped a fingertip against a pale cheek and tried again. "Colonel Sheppard? It's Carson. Can you hear me, lad?"
"Rod...ney!" It hurt to talk and his vision didn't want to clear. John was terrified that something had happened. He wanted to get up but his body felt heavy, his limbs leaden, his muscles rubbery and resistant to his mental commands to move, move, move! He wanted to sob in frustration but told himself to focus. "Ronon...Ronon!"
"Easy, Colonel," Carson replied, gripping the thin shoulders then easing up when he realized it felt like he could easily snap the man in two. "Rodney and Ronon are fine, Colonel. They're doing great!" He could see that his words weren't getting through to Sheppard.
John heard a voice calling him. A familiar voice that wasn't Rodney or Ronon. It took a moment to sink in that it was Carson and that hands were gripping his shoulders. The rescue team must have found them. John had a million questions but he couldn't get his vocal chords to work. The dryness in his throat turned into a tickle that made him cough and the cough soon turned into a gag and John felt hot bile pool in his throat then he was puking and puking until a blessed coolness seeped into his veins and darkness embraced him.
Elizabeth had come in to check on the team when John had opened his eyes. She had run over, hope washing over her, only to step back and watch in horror as John's thin body was wracked by dry coughing, then he looked almost like he was having a seizure as he puked up bile. She didn't move as she watched Beckett and a nurse get him resettled after he was sedated. When Carson turned, scrubbing a hand over his weary face, Elizabeth asked, "Is he going to be okay?" Because John looked anything but okay.
"We'll get him through this," Carson promised. "He's disoriented from lack of food and from the fever."
"I thought his fever was gone?" Elizabeth replied.
Carson sighed. "It's still low grade and it's made him very weak. It's going to take time, luv. You have to be patient."
Elizabeth nodded, but she still had her doubts. She looked at Sheppard and he resembled a human corpse. "Can I sit with him?" she asked, shaking away her morbid thoughts.
"Aye, just don't wear yourself out," Carson warned. "I have enough patients to take care of." With that he was gone, bustling over to check on Ronon.
"You need to stop scaring the hell out of me, John," Elizabeth whispered, as she took a seat in the chair next to his bed. "You're giving me gray hairs." As she spoke she reached for his hand, no longer horrified by how thin and fragile it felt in her own. She knew John Sheppard. He was stronger than any one person had a right to be. He would get past this weakness and surprise them all with his strength. She just knew he would. And she prayed for his recovery to be swift as she kept vigil over him.
OoO
"Rodney?" John blinked hard, eyes having to adjust to the shadowy darkness. He stared about, feeling disoriented. This didn't look like the cave and he must have fallen asleep. But that didn't make sense because he felt softness underneath him and his fingers plucked at the blankets that were draped over him.
"Colonel!" Carson was by Sheppard's side in an instant, raising the lights a bit. "It's okay, son. You're back on Atlantis.
John suddenly remembered seeing Teyla and Lorne. But he didn't remember the ride home. "Ronon and Rodney?" he asked. He needed to see them for himself, to make certain they were all right. It was hard to talk against the dryness of his throat, but he could worry about such a trivial discomfort later. Once he knew they were okay.
Carson patted his shoulder, frowning a bit, then forcing a smile. "They're sleeping on either side of you," he said, pointing to both beds. "It's rather late but I suppose you've had a long enough sleep for the moment."
"How...long?" John couldn't force out a full sentence, but he knew Beckett would know what he was asking.
"Almost four days, Colonel. You were beginning to worry us a bit." Carson fussed with the covers as he spoke. "How are you feeling?"
John considered then answered with the truth. "Sore...throat hurts." His head ached as did his ribs and he was not happy to realize he had a catheter in, but he didn't want to be too honest or Beckett would never let him out of this place.
Carson reached for a cup of ice chips. "Try this," he said, slipping one into John's mouth.
It felt like heaven melting down John's throat. "Can I have more?" he asked, hopefully.
"Just one for now," Carson replied, slipping another one in.
"Thanks." John relished it, then turned his head to either side, taking in the sleeping forms of Rodney and Ronon. Although when he narrowed his gaze he could see that Ronon was staring back at him. The runner was a light sleeper. John nodded at him then closed his eyes. "Tired," he whispered. But now he could sleep.
Carson fussed with the blankets again." We'll chat in the morning," he promised. Then he lowered the lights and drifted away.
OoO
John felt much better in the morning. He was informed that his fever had finally broken and he convinced Carson to remove the catheter. That he would use a urinal if he had too, but he fully intended to walk to the bathroom when he had to pee. Rodney and Ronon smiled at him when they woke up and John felt relief wash over him in dizzying waves. They had made it back alive and Rodney and Ronon were going to be all right.
"Ready for some water?" Carson asked, as he arrived at John's bedside with a glass of water containing a straw.
"More than ready," John replied, reaching for the glass with a hand that shook slightly. That bothered him, but he realized he was going to be a bit weak. He took a sip of water and it felt great going down. As did the second sip. The third, and it was a tiny sip, was a bit rough and John tried to ignore the protest his stomach made. But he had just handed Beckett the glass back when he felt himself turn green.
Carson had a basin under his chin before John could hurl. He looked grim as the Colonel emptied his belly.
John felt the burn as what little he drank came back up. "Sorry," he croaked, leaning back against the pillows and feeling limp.
"It's okay, I'll give you something for the nausea," Carson said, as he handed the basin off to a nurse. "I half expected it." As he spoke he pulled a capped syringe out of his lab coat pocket. He uncapped it, tapped it for air bubbles, expelled a bit then injected it into the IV port. "You should feel better in a few minutes."
"Thanks," John whispered, and it wasn't long before his stomach began to settle. He realized Beckett was eyeing him with concern. "Better now," he stated. "How...how are Rodney and Ronon?"
McKay was awake and answered for himself. "Rodney is bored!" He said it loud enough and sharply enough to get Carson's attention. Which earned him a glare from the doc.
Ronon looked amused from his bed and said, "It's good to see you awake, Sheppard."
"Good to be awake," John replied. "How's the leg?"
"Good," Ronon replied.
John knew that the runner was much like himself. Not one to tell the complete truth when he was hurt or injured. The man had been shot with an arrow in the calf, had broken it off, yanked it out and kept on going with barely a limp. So John looked at Beckett for the whole truth.
Carson grinned at Sheppard. "Both of your teammates are doing well," he stated. "They'll be here for a bit. Ronon's fever came back, the infection he got is being nasty, but he'll be fine once we take care of it. Rodney is going to be in traction then in a brace for a time, but they'll both heal. Oh, Ronon will have some physical therapy, but I'm sure the therapist will have more to worry about than Ronon will."
"Yeah," John replied, feeling a grin curve his mouth. And it felt good to smile. To know that his team was going to be okay. He could rest himself now so he could be up and out and watching over them during their recovery. "Can I have another sip of water?" John asked.
"You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?" Rodney piped up. "Not that there's anything left in your belly to spew."
John made a face at McKay. "I'll make sure I'm facing your way," he quipped, and it felt normal finally. He was ready to embrace normal.
Carson made a face at Rodney too. "The Colonel's stomach should feel better because of the anti-emetic I gave him." As he spoke he gave John the water glass.
To John's relief, his first sip stayed down. So did a few dozen more. In fact, he finished the glass, leaving his stomach feeling a bit too full, but no more nausea. However, he was tired. "I think it's nap time for me again," John said softly, stifling a yawn.
"Good idea for all of you," Carson told the room at large. Then he did his thing, along with Kelly's help, getting them all settled in.
John took one last look at Ronon and Rodney, then let himself drift into darkness.
OoO
Two days later, John was out of bed. Rodney had wanted some water and the nurses had gone somewhere, so John had slipped out of bed, grabbing his IV pole, and tended to Rodney's needs. He then moved to Ronon's side to ask if he needed anything. Although he felt a bit shaky, and his legs felt a bit like rubber, John felt good being mobile again. In fact, when Nick showed up he forestalled an argument by saying he had to pee. He then made it to the bathroom, removed his IV and took a shower. Not surprisingly, Nick was sitting on the toilet with clean scrubs, instead of a gown, when John came out.
"Mad at me?" John asked, wondering if he should use the puppy dog eyes.
"No, just worried," Nick replied. He offered the scrubs and made no move to help Sheppard get dressed.
John knew he was pushing himself a bit too hard, but he got himself dressed and back to his bed. He climbed in, let Nick get him settled and covered then said, "Can we pass on the IV for now?"
Nick studied John a moment then nodded. "I'll leave it out and see how you do, then discuss it with Carson when he comes on shift. Until then, feel like some broth?"
"Sure." John couldn't keep a lot down but he ate what he could whenever it was brought to him. He knew he needed to regain his strength. For his team. For Elizabeth. For Atlantis. Although his focus at the moment was on getting better so he could help Ronon and Rodney. They were going to take much longer to heal and John felt guilty about that.
"I'll be back in a few," Nick said, offering a grin before leaving.
McKay stared at Sheppard in disbelief. "I can't believe he didn't ream your ass for getting out of bed."
John shrugged, feeling a bit of a pull in his ribs, but nothing too uncomfortable. He was warm and dry and everyone was safe. Well, relatively safe given the Wraith were still at large as well as the other enemies they'd made. But it was enough that his team was back on Atlantis and alive and healing. "I'm fine, Rodney," John insisted.
"You're kidding me, right?" Rodney shot back. He might have said more but Teyla arrive with a mug of broth. She smiled at everyone, then moved to John's side.
"I ran into Nick and he asked if I would bring this to you," Teyla said, handing over the mug.
John accepted it with a smile. "Thanks." He took a sip and his stomach did a small lurch, but he willed it to behave.
Teyla looked at Ronon and Rodney then back at John. "You all look better today," she said softly.
"I don't feel better," Rodney replied. He was upset because his back wasn't healing as well as Carson had hoped she he had to spend a few more days in traction, with only the fact that he'd have to wear a brace to look forward too.
"You must be patient, Rodney," Teyla said.
Rodney simply glared at her.
John felt himself smiling. This felt good and right and he felt as if he could relax a bit. He hadn't told anyone but he had been having nightmares about being back on the planet and that Lorne and Teyla had arrived to rescue them only Ronon and Rodney were dead. He had failed to save them. "I could read to you later," John offered. He knew Ronon liked hearing Earth books.
"Not War and Peace," Rodney said, shuddering as best he could in reaction.
"I'll read whatever you like," John said.
Teyla was grinning. "And I will fetch it for you."
Rodney looked appeased. "I have a Star Trek novel in my room," he stated, smirking at Sheppard. "A Kirk novel."
"Whatever makes you happy, Rodney," John shot back, knowing it would irritate McKay if he didn't react to a Kirk comment. They all laughed as Rodney went into a long and winded rant. But even though he knew he was safe and home with his team, John couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't really safe at all.
OoO
Elizabeth sat at her desk, looking at Carson and Kate. Sheppard, Rodney and Ronon had been back for just over a week now and she wanted an update on their condition. "Carson," she prompted.
"They're doing as well as can be expected," he replied. "Ronon had a bit of a set back with his fever, and Rodney's back is being slow to heal, but they will get better."
"And John?" Elizabeth found herself the most concerned about him. In spite of the fact that she knew he was mobile now, at least within the infirmary. Two days ago she'd gone to visit them all and John had been helping Rodney shift into a more comfortable position within his limited means. Then he had gone to fetch some water for Ronon. Elizabeth had been about to call for a nurse when Carson had intervened, telling her to let John be.
Carson shrugged. "He's doing about as I expected. And I know you're wondering about my letting him take care of Ronon and Rodney, but it's a good thing for him to be doing. I spoke to Kate about it and she agrees with me."
Kate nodded. "Colonel Sheppard spent two weeks beating the odds physically, mentally and emotionally to keep his team alive till they could be rescued. He's still in that mode and I believe that letting him take care of them will help him deal with the trauma. Especially since he's not willing to talk about it."
"Is Rodney talking to you?"
"A little," Kate allowed. "I think once he's released to his room and we can talk in private he'll talk more. Colonel Sheppard took me aside and said that Rodney has been talking to him and Ronon, which will help them all."
Elizabeth was glad to hear that. "I take it Ronon isn't talking to you either?"
Kate chuckled. "I think he speaks in glares, but I haven't learned the lingo yet."
"But he's doing okay?" Elizabeth prompted.
"Yes." Kate locked eyes with Elizabeth. "After all his years on the run, Ronon is actually the one who can handle what happened the best. Facing starvation and death isn't new to him."
Elizabeth sighed and rubbed a hand over her face before pinching the bridge of her nose. She could feel a tension headache coming on. "John's faced it before," she reminded them, because they had all read about his time as a POW.
Kate nodded. "If he had been alone, I think this wouldn't have affected him so much. But he's feeling guilty and, to be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up with post traumatic stress syndrome. In fact, I'd be more surprised if he didn't."
"Perfect," Elizabeth drawled, sarcasm oozing out of every pore. Realizing that she sounded like Rodney, she shook herself then looked at Carson. "What about his weight? Is he eating better?"
"He's trying," Carson allowed. "He attempts to eat whatever we give him, but he's only able to manage a few bites. I've given him the incentive of agreeing to release him to quarters the day after tomorrow. But he knows he's not allowed back on duty in any measure until he's gained ten pounds."
Elizabeth wished he could magically gain the weight because it scared the hell out of her seeing John look so thin and fragile. "How long do you think it will take him to gain it?"
Carson made a face. "It's hard to say. We started him on solids yesterday, and John insists he'll put the weight back on in no time. But he's like the kid whose eyes are bigger than his stomach. He can't eat the way he needs to eat."
"But so long as he wants to gain the weight and is trying, that's a good sign, right?" Elizabeth asked. Because she really needed him to get better. To be the John Sheppard who was the hero of Atlantis to so many. Herself included. She needed Rodney and Ronon back as well. They were needed by everyone.
"Aye, it's a good sign," Carson agreed. He glanced at his watch and stood up. "I've got to go and get Ronon set up for his first physical therapy session. His muscles are atrophying a bit and he's getting ancy at being bedridden for so long it'll do him good to get some kind of physical work out. But I don't dare leave him alone with the therapist.
Kate was rising as well. "I have an appointment in five minutes," she apologized.
Elizabeth waved them off. "Just keep me updated," she called after them. And when she was alone again, she clasped her hands, bent her head, closed her eyes and prayed.
THE END...of part 11