SILENT SACRIFICE...part 12

Carson kept his word and released John to his quarters. It felt good to be back in his own room, but John felt a bit guilty because Ronon and Rodney had yet to be released. But he had promised them he would return to keep them entertained. He also wanted to be there to make sure they truly were healing, and that they were eating well. He couldn't stop dreaming about them starving to death. It was weird to John that he hadn't dreamed about them starving when they were facing that distinct possibility during their time in the cave. But the dreams haunted him now, making him feel reluctant to eat his own food at times.

Being released wasn't a simple action in Beckett's world. The Scot had a ton of rules he expected John to follow. Such as daily weigh ins. Which meant that every morning, once he was up and dressed, he was to report to the infirmary to be weighed and to drink a can of ensure. John loathed the stuff. Carson had started him on it yesterday, when he discovered John's stomach would tolerate it. At least in small doses. John only wished his taste buds could tolerate it as well.

Since it was midmorning, John had already done the weighing in part of his day before being released from the infirmary. So now he was reacquainting himself with his room then he intended to get a snack at the messhall, per Beckett's instructions. Another rule he had to follow in order to stay free. John had promised to eat six meals a day, along with a can of ensure. His midmorning meal he preferred to think of as a snack.

To that end he made his way to the messhall. Once there he grabbed some fruit and asked the server if they'd make him some toast, which she was quick to agree too. Which led John to believe Carson had spoken with her about him and his needs. That made John feel a bit uncomfortable, but he decided to let it slide. It wasn't like he could hide the fact that he'd lost weight. His clothes were hanging on him, including the jeans he was wearing. He felt cold all the time too, which was why he was wearing a long sleeved shirt with a t-shirt over it. Layering kept him warmer and made him look a bit more padded than he actually was. It might only be an illusion, but it was one John was willing to promote if it would get people to stop eyeing him with pity. Which was hard to ignore, but he was trying. He knew they didn't mean anything by it. Hell, he made it a point to avoid his own reflection at present.

Once the toast was ready, John sat down at a corner table and managed to eat one slice with a half a banana and a few sips of apple juice. He knew Beckett wanted him to get more in him, but John's stomach rebelled and he had no desire to start puking again. His throat still felt raw as it was. So he dumped his tray, but stopped to grab some more fruit. Some apples and there were some hard rolls that had a good shelf life. With food in hand, John returned to his quarters. He had some plastic baggies and he put the rolls in them, then stuffed them and the apples in an empty drawer. He didn't question why he was hording the food, it just felt like the thing to do.

Feeling a bit worn out from his exertions, even though walking to the messhall wasn't all that far a trek, John decided to take a nap. He kicked off his sneaker and stretched out on the bed, pulling the blanket at the end of it over him. He closed his eyes and drifted off into warm darkness. Until the dreams began.

"You're killing us, Sheppard," Ronon stated, his eyes burning from his skeletal face.

"You starved us to death!" Rodney piped up, his face just as hollow and sunken as Ronon's.

John stared at them in horror, shaking his head and backing away as their thin, claw-like hands, reached out for him. "No, no!'" he whispered. "I tried to keep you alive. I gave you everything I could find! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

He jolted awake with a strangled scream dying in his throat. He barely made it off the bed, clawing the blanket out of the way and stumbling in the bathroom just in time to heave up what little contents were in his stomach. By the time he was done John was drenched in a cold sweat and shaking. He sat with his head on his knees for a long time, then he managed to crawl to the shower, stripping off his clothes and stumbling inside. He thought the water on, full force and heated, letting it beat down onto his clammy flesh.

It seemed to take forever before the heat penetrated and his trembling eased so that he could stand without needing to lean against the tiled wall. Still feeling weak, John managed to grab the soap and wash up. He felt weary to the bone by the time he was done and had dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist he went into his room and pulled on clean clothes and lace on his sneakers. A trip back to the bathroom to finger comb his hair and brush his teeth then John was out the door.

He plastered a smile on his face, nodding a greeting at anyone he passed by. He glanced at his watch and realized he'd only slept a bit over an hour. No matter. He could sleep later. Right now Rodney and Ronon needed him and he was going to be there for them.

The first person John saw when he entered the infirmary was Beckett.

The doctor looked surprised to see him. "Colonel, is something wrong?" he asked, eyeing John with concern.

"No, I'm fine," John assured him, because no way in hell was he going to mention the nightmare or throwing up. "I had my snack and took a nap so I figured I'd come down and keep Rodney and Ronon company for a bit."

"Sounds good to me," Carson replied. "They're driving everyone a bit insane."

John managed a genuine grin at that. "They're bored."

Carson made a face. "Aye, I know. But they can't hurry up the healing process."

"I know that better than anyone," John allowed. "I'll try and keep them entertained for a bit," he promised, clapping Beckett on the shoulder as he passed by him. He could feel the doc's eyes drilling into his back as he approached Rodney's bed, but John shrugged it off. The Scotsman was worse than a mother hen, but he meant well.

"Didn't you just escape from here?" Rodney snapped at John as he reached him.

John shrugged. "What can I say, I missed it," he drawled, letting sarcasm practically ooze from his tone.

Rodney heaved a sigh, but his eyes were twinkling a bit. "You're a sick man, Sheppard," he stated.

"I've been called worse," John shot back, and he was glad they could do this again. Taunt each other and make sarcastic remarks. Moving over to Ronon's bed he asked, "You doing better, big guy?"

"I'll be better when I can get out of here," Ronon rumbled.

Carson moved to join them for a moment. "Ronon, I know you're impatient and hate lying about, but that fever of yours is being a right bugger. Once we have it under control you'll get better and you'll be out of my hair." He winced as if realizing how rude that sounded.

But Ronon was merely amused. "Can't wait for that day," he acknowledged.

"When can I get out of traction?" Rodney whined.

"How about right now?" Carson shot back, and he grinned to see the stunned expressions on three faces.

Rodney blinked at him then he scowled, but his tone was hopeful as he countered with a soft, "Really?"

Carson nodded. "Really. I'm going to get you out of the traction, but you'll have to go directly into the brace. But by tonight we'll be able to get you a bit mobile."

"Let's do it!" Rodney enthused.

"I'll get a couple of nurses," Carson said.

John moved to him. "I'll help."

Carson made a face, looking concerned. "I appreciate that, Colonel," he said quietly. "But you're not exactly up to par."

"I want to help," John stated, and he reached out and gripped Carson by the forearm. He needed to be a part of the healing process for Rodney, to know that he was a part of something positive.

"All right then." Carson guided him over to one side of Rodney's bed, then he moved to the other. He started unhooking the pieces that held Rodney's body in place, asking John to grip and hold each limb as it was released. Which meant Rodney's legs. He watched closely as John did his bidding.

John felt Carson watching him but ignored it. All of his focus was on Rodney. He caught every wince McKay tried to hide. It took twenty minutes to get him released from the traction and into the brace. By which time Rodney was pale and sweaty, but he was smiling as Carson made the bed rise to a forty-five degree angle so he was finally sitting up. "Bet that feels better," John commented, a smile curving his own mouth.

Rodney looked at him, nodding carefully. "It feels like heaven. I'm hungry, can I eat?"

That comment sent everyone to laughing and it was the most wonderful sound John had heard in ages.

Carson looked pleased. "I'll get trays for the three of you," he said, then he bustled away.

"Should I read some more?" John said. They had made it through two books already and he knew it helped them all to while the time away.

"Sounds good to me," Ronon said.

So John picked up the latest book, the first Harry Potter novel, and began to read. He spent the next three hours with his teammates. They ate and chatted and John asked to attend one of Ronon's therapy sessions. He then volunteered to massage the cramps out of Rodney's calf muscles, which also helped keep the blood circulated. He only left after the supper meal, heading for bed on Carson's orders.

Once in his room, John stretched out on the covers and closed his eyes, falling swiftly into slumber.

OoO

Carson shared tea with Kate in his office. Sheppard was with Rodney and Ronon, as had been his routine for the entire week since he'd been released to quarters. "Has Rodney opened up to you any more?" Carson asked, knowing that she wouldn't share details, but she could let him know in general.

"A bit," Kate allowed. "I think he talks more with Ronon and Sheppard, which is fine. Just so long as he's talking."

"I saw you trying to chat with Ronon again," Carson said, grinning.

Kate sighed. "Yes, and he was as chatty as ever," she confessed, a smile curving her lips inspite of her attempts to stay serious. "I think he'll be fine. But he is worried about Colonel Sheppard."

Carson set his tea aside. "I'm a bit worried as well. He's become so incredibly protective of Rodney and Ronon. I mean, he's instinctively protective of people anyway, but this is something different."

"He hasn't yet accepted that they're safe. All of them," Kate replied. "He's still in the mode of having to watch over his team and protect them. Care for them."

"Is it a problem letting him do that?" Carson asked, because Sheppard had pretty much taken over the nurse's duties for them. He'd even become a pro at checking a pulse, and Carson knew he was always watching for signs of pain and changes in both Rodney and Ronon. In fact, Ronon's fever had finally broken for what Carson hoped was for good, and it was the Colonel who had spotted the change when it happened.

Kate shrugged. "So far it seems to be a positive thing. Since he won't talk to me, but he does seem to interact with Rodney and Ronon, I'd let it go for now."

Carson nodded then pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a tension headache coming on. "Have you been able to get Sheppard to talk to you at all?"

"Nothing beyond insisting that he's fine. That everything is good now that they're back and safe." Kate finished off her own tea then asked, "How is he doing with the weigh-ins?"

"He's not gained an ounce," Carson replied. "Well, let me rephrase that. He's gained a couple of ounces, but he should have gained at least a pound by now. I watch him eat when he's here, which is for at least two meals a day, including the ensure I'm making him drink."

Kate looked concerned. "Could he be throwing up when you're not paying attention?"

Carson had considered that fact. "Maybe I should assign him food buddies and put an ear to the door when he uses the bathroom. I hate to be so sneaky about it, but something's not right."

"You said it yourself that it was going to be a hard process getting weight back on him," Kate reminded Carson.

"I know." Carson sighed and scratched at his chin, feeling frustrated and a bit guilty. Like he was being too hard on Sheppard and the man didn't even know it. "The thing is, he is eating. Better than I had expected he would."

Kate stood up and patted Carson on the shoulder. "Do what you have to do." She smiled and walked out of the office.

Carson got up and headed back to work.

OoO

John hated having a food buddy. He had been angry at Carson for suggesting it, but had apologized because he knew the man was looking out for him. But John had done everything asked of him. It wasn't his fault he kept throwing up, not that he told Carson or anyone about that. Teyla was John's breakfast buddy, and he had forced down two slices of toast before telling her he was heading back to his room to grab a new book before going to see Ronon and Rodney. Today was Ronon's last day in the infirmary and John knew the Runner couldn't wait to get out of there.

But what he did was puke up the toast, then rinse his mouth and drink some apple juice. It was the only thing that didn't seem to upset his stomach. He also added to the food stash he was collecting. Replacing the old with the new, but always having it on hand. He'd managed to procure some chocolate which he was saving to give to Rodney once he got released. And John had the Reese's Peanut butter cups for Ronon.

Once he was done with the juice, John brushed his teeth then headed out. He had started walking three days ago. He needed to build up his strength and endurance again. Rodney and Ronon were a long way from being back to normal and John needed to be there for them, so he had to push himself.

So he walked for a mile, then he headed for the infirmary until it was time for lunch. His lunch buddy was Elizabeth and they ate in her office and by the end of the meal John had convinced her to let him go back on light duty. Reading reports weren't going to exhaust him and he was getting bored. He had time to do reports at night, when Ronon and Rodney were sleeping and dreams were keeping him awake.

After lunch John went to his room and drank some apple juice. It seemed to settle his stomach and he managed to keep lunch down. Broth was something he could eat without heaving. He then took another short walk and went back to the infirmary. And the pattern continued for that day and the next few.

Then Rodney was going to be released. After breakfast with Teyla, John went to his room and managed not to puke up the few bites of oatmeal he'd forced down. He knew Teyla would report it to Beckett and he didn't care. He already knew how disappointed Beckett was by his lack of weight gain from this morning's weigh in. Tying on his sneakers, John headed out.

Only this time he went for a run. It was time to buckle down and get stronger. So he headed for the east pier. John ran until his lungs and his legs burned. He had run farther than he had meant too and he'd forgotten to bring water with him. He stopped, leaning against the wall for support. His legs felt like rubber but after a few minutes he made the attempt to start walking back, only everything shaded to gray. Then black.

John felt himself falling into darkness.

THE END...of part 12