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Silent Sacrifice – Chapter 14

Elizabeth stepped into the semi-darkened infirmary and glanced around. She spotted him almost immediately, curled up on his side with his back facing her. She noticed the IV stand beside the bed and remembered Carson telling her he'd been dehydrated. His breathing seemed regular and he was rather still, at least for him, so she assumed he was asleep. Looking back over to Carson's lighted office, she stepped in the doorway.

Carson looked up from the test results on his desk at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Come in, Elizabeth, and sit down. Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, Carson, that would be wonderful if you have some." Elizabeth plopped down in the chair across from the doctor's seat, realizing for the first time that day how tired she really was.

"Be right back. I was just about to pour myself a refill." He grabbed the empty mug from the corner of his desk and moved quickly out the door. Elizabeth leaned forward enough to see the name on the file lying open on the physician's desk, as if she didn't know whose it was. The name on the side of the thick file said John Sheppard. Who else?

"Here you go," Carson said as he handed her a mug of coffee. He set his own mug on the desk and walked around it to sit down. "I guess I know who you are here about."

Elizabeth smiled as she sipped her coffee. "Actually, I wouldn't mind hearing the latest on all three of them."

Beckett smiled. "I'll start with the easy one. Ronon's leg is healing nicely, but he'll still be on crutches for a while and, of course, need some physical therapy when he's out of the cast. Rodney is progressing well, too. I released him today, but he'll need to wear a brace most of the day for the next few weeks. We need to get him walking to get some mild exercise pretty soon to tone up his muscles. He's still having some mild headaches and dizzy spells from the concussion, but they seem to be getting fewer and farther between."

"And then there's John," said Elizabeth.

"Yes, and then there's the colonel. As I told you earlier, we did a new workup on his blood this afternoon and the upper GI endoscopy this evening. I was just looking over all his test results when you came in. He has a very serious case of gastritis, probably from a variety of causes. I think the lead-in was vomiting from the concussion he suffered. The immediate food restriction and stress from trying to care for Rodney and Ronon only added to the problem. The stress probably led to an increase in stomach acid, but there was nothing in his stomach to digest. If there was, he threw it up. This irritated the lining of his stomach and esophagus. At that point it became one of those never-ending cycles that fed upon itself."

Elizabeth nodded. "So he couldn't eat or keep anything down because of the inflammation, but the inflammation got worse because he couldn't eat."

"Exactly. Somewhere in there, he's picked up a bacterial infection that is keeping the problem going. It seems to have some properties similar to the bacteria on earth that has been found responsible for many digestive problems, including ulcers and chronic gastritis. But it is different in some ways, so that leads me to believe he's picked it up here in the Pegasus galaxy. Even though we've started him on food again, this bacteria keeps building and inflaming the lining of his upper digestive system again and again, which causes the vomiting, which then irritates the lining even more. There's a couple of places in his esophagus and one in his stomach that are close to ulcerating and are already bleeding slightly. I've started him on a regimen similar to what is used to treat ulcers at home, a combination of antibiotics and acid-suppressants. The bad thing is, the treatment can cause side-effects in some people like nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea, so I need to keep him for a few days to see how it goes. He's already dehydrated and suffering from a second infection because his immune system is so depressed. He won't admit it, but I'm sure he's in a fair amount of pain, as well."

"Basically, he's a mess."

Carson grinned. "Pretty much. Before I'll consider releasing him again, I need him hydrated, his fever down, some food going in him that will stay down, and to make sure the medication isn't going to make him worse."

Elizabeth sipped her coffee and then sat looking down into the half empty cup, as if she might find some answers there. "This is going to set him back quite a bit, isn't it?"

"Aye, I'm afraid it will. Before this is over, I'm sure he'll have lost another pound or two. It won't make it any easier to get him back on food, that's for sure, although I do have a concoction that I may try to get down him to give him a jump start. I'm also quite worried about his mental state. So far he's been handling this whole situation by continuing his role as protector and caregiver for Rodney and Ronon, and he's not going to be able to do that for a while. I suspect he's having some rather disturbing nightmares that are keeping him wound up, as well. Between his gastric problems, the trouble he's having getting his wounds to heal, and this secondary infection, he's very weak at the moment. He hasn't said much, but I'm beginning to pick up on the fact that he is also having some headaches and dizziness that may be a remnant of his concussion. It's hard to tell with him if it's the concussion or lack of food causing it."

"We'll just have to reassure him that Rodney and Ronon are safe and well-cared for, even though he's not the one doing it. Do you think it would be a good idea for them to spend some time with him here?"

"Oh, there's no doubt about it. Not only would that ease his mind, but theirs as well. There is a bond that formed between the three of them while out there alone and depending on one another for survival. I could see that during that first week they were all here together. They were all constantly aware of what was happening with the other two and they often talked together about their situation. I think that continued contact is very important to the healing process for all of them."

Elizabeth finished off the last of the coffee and set her empty mug on the edge of Carson's desk, leaning forward in her chair as she did so. "So what is the prognosis for the three of them?"

"I see no reason why they can't all make a full recovery eventually. It's like I told you that first day they were back. It's going to be a long, slow process for all of them, but with our help, they can do it."

Elizabeth smiled as she stood and prepared to leave. "That's all I needed to hear. We'll get them through this, Carson."

"Aye, that we will, lass."

"Can I stop by his bed on the way out if I promise not to wake him?"

Carson smiled knowingly. "You won't wake him, lass, trust me."

Elizabeth smiled, knowing that meant Carson had given him something strong for the pain he had been in earlier. She left the office and walked over to the bed, standing on the side he was facing. He looked almost as pale and fragile as they day they brought them back on the jumper. She grinned as she thought about how much cleaner he was now than he had been then. She knew Carson said she couldn't wake him, but she was afraid to touch him all the same. He looked so peaceful and she didn't want to risk disturbing that. He needed it too much.

"Get better John." With a small sigh, she turned and left the sleeping form of her second in command.

oOo

Marcy looked down at the thermometer. "Still holding at 102."

Beckett nodded and recorded the number. "It appears your fever is almost as stubborn as you are," he said, looking down at Sheppard shifting restlessly in the bed.

"Almost?" asked John, the edges of his mouth turning up a bit as he struggled to hold his eyes open.

Beckett smiled. "Yes, almost." The doctor watched as Marcy set the thermometer down and retrieved the cloth from the bowl of water, squeezing out the excess. She then gently resumed wiping the sweat from the colonel's face.

"Thanks," he whispered, letting his eyes close. The cool dampness felt good on his hot face and he relished anything that felt good at the moment, no matter how brief. He shifted his legs around, trying to relieve the endless ache in his stomach. Truth be told, his whole body ached, but his stomach was crying the loudest. He was trying to thrash carefully since Beckett had started a second IV line and it was taking some work to not get tangled or pull any of them loose.

"No problem, Colonel," replied Marcy. "It turns out you're our only real patient right now, so that gives me time to give you a little more personal care. I'm just hoping this is helping you feel a little better."

"It is." John moaned softly and rolled over on his side, bringing his legs up against the pain.

"Colonel, is it getting worse?" asked Beckett, his concern edging up a bit.

John relaxed a little, shifting down into the bed. "Better now. Just a cramp."

Beckett sighed and disappeared for a few minutes, reappearing with a syringe. He emptied it into John's IV port. "Colonel, you have to tell me when the pain gets worse so I can help you. There's no reason for to lay there and suffer any more than necessary." Beckett turned at the sound of several people entering the infirmary. Ronon, Rodney, and Teyla were standing in the doorway, looking their way.

"Colonel, it looks like you have visitors."

"No," Sheppard said forcefully, surprising both Marcy and Carson. "Don't want them . . . see me like this."

Beckett glanced back to see them heading toward Sheppard's bed. "I don't think they are going to let me tell them no. And they need to see you. They're worried about you, just like you were worried about them. I can guarantee they'll be more upset if I don't let them visit than they will to see that you are ill."

Sheppard looked up at Beckett, his eyes glassy from the fever. "Okay," he said reluctantly.

Marcy wiped his face once more and returned the cloth to the bowl. Leaning over him, she said, " I'll leave you with your friends and come back when they're gone." She quickly slipped away from the bed.

Beckett moved back as Ronon hobbled up on his crutches, Rodney moving carefully in his brace. Teyla went to the other side of the bed. "How are my other two recovering patients?" asked Beckett lightly.

"I'd be better if my back didn't hurt all the time," moaned Rodney.

Ronon growled at Rodney. "We're fine, doctor. How's Sheppard?"

"Dr. Weir told us about the Colonel's condition at breakfast," said Teyla. "We wanted to see if there had been any improvement during the night."

"I'm fine," said Sheppard weakly from the bed, twisting around to once again lie on his back."

Rodney snorted loudly. "And I'm the Queen of England. Carson, the man is obviously delirious."

"Am not," Sheppard protested, but he made an effort to smile, which pleased them all. "Just a bellyache."

"Well, it's little more serious than that," countered Carson, "but nothing that we can't treat. We've actually started treatment already. But the medication can have side effects and the Colonel is running a fever, so he'll get to be my guest for a few days while we get him sorted out. When we get you back on food, we'll have to work on finding things that won't upset your stomach until you're healed and back to normal."

"Perhaps we can help," offered Teyla.

"Yes, lass, I imagine you can," said Beckett, smiling at her.

"Great . . . food monitors," muttered John.

"Well, you wouldn't need food monitors if you weren't such a baby," complained Rodney.

"Not a baby," said John, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth together. "Oh . . . crap."

"Grab his arm and help me sit him up," said Beckett urgently. He elbowed Rodney out of the way so he could grab Sheppard's arm and Teyla grabbed the other. They quickly pulled him into a sitting position. As Beckett turned around, Rodney handed him the basin that had been sitting on the table. "Thanks," Beckett said curtly as he whirled around and got it under Sheppard as he began retching.

Rodney made a gagging motion and turned around so he didn't have to watch, thinking seriously about putting his fingers in his ears. He glanced at Ronon to see the Satedan glaring at him and gave him his best "can't help it" expression.

By the time Sheppard finished dry heaving, Marcy had made an appearance and took the basin from the doctor. There wasn't much there since he hadn't eaten anything. Carson gave him some water to rinse with and then raised the head of the bed slightly before helping him ease back against the pillow.

"Sorry," John rasped, his throat feeling hot and raw.

Beckett took the rag from the water and wrung it out before handing it to John to wipe his face with. "It's all right, lad. I'm afraid I've been expecting it. How's your stomach?"

John looked at Beckett thoughtfully as he handed the rag back. "A little better, actually."

"Good. It's about time."

Rodney slowly turned back around. "Is it safe? Has Volcano Sheppard quit erupting yet?"

Beckett sighed and turned to face the scientist. "Colonel Sheppard is fine now, and grateful, I'm sure, for your concern."

"Can I help it if I have a weak stomach?"

"Somehow I doubt Sheppard was exactly enjoying the experience," said Ronon.

John chuckled, but stopped when it made him cough and hurt his throat. "S'okay guys. Rodney's just . . . being Rodney."

McKay looked relieved. "See, Sheppard knows I don't mean anything by it."

Beckett grinned and patted Rodney on the arm. "Aye, lad, and we know it as well. You can stay and visit for a few more minutes if you'd like, but don't stay long. The Colonel is still running a fever and he needs to rest."

"We will not stay long," said Teyla. "Ronon and Dr. McKay will need to rest as well. They have both been on their feet for a while now."

Beckett nodded at Teyla. "Lass, you are proving an extra valuable asset of late. I may need to put you on the payroll for helping me take care of these three hooligans."

"What's a hooligan?" asked Ronon.

"Let's put it this way," said McKay. "We've just been insulted."

oOo

Beckett handed John a cup with a small amount of liquid in it. John peered down at the off white mixture, almost gagging at the sight of it. "What is this?"

"Trust me, it's better if you don't know. It's almost pure carbohydrates, fats, and protein. It'll give your body a good boost if we can keep it in you. There's only 100ml there. Just drink it fast and then wash it down with some water. I'd like to get this in you two or three times a day if we can."

John swallowed hard. "Okay, I know I said the nausea was better tonight, but I'm not sure if it's this much better."

"Colonel, your fever is up. You're so weak and run down that your body is having a hard time fighting the infection, even with the antibiotics. We've got to start building your strength back up. Just give it a try."

John nodded, knowing Beckett was right. He'd been hot all afternoon, with intermittent bouts of chills, and he knew the fever was getting worse. "Okay, just have a bucket or something ready." John held the cup of goop in one hand and a cup of water in the other. Holding his breath, he drank the goop and then chased it with half a glass of water. As soon as he stopped drinking, he twisted his face and made a gagging noise. He then finished the cup of water. Finally, he set both cups on the tray table and gasped for breath. He gagged again, but managed to keep from bringing it up.

Beckett was trying not to laugh at the faces the Colonel was making. It reminded him of the face his nephew made when he took cough syrup. "Are you all right, Colonel?"

Sheppard shuddered as he opened his eyes and rolled his tongue around in his mouth as if trying to rid it of something. "I don't think dirty socks could taste worse. My taste buds have been mortally wounded."

"What about your stomach?"

Sheppard thought a minute and then looked surprised. "It's okay . . . I think. This is weird."

Beckett collected the empty glasses, looking very pleased with himself. "Let me know if that tries to make a return appearance. I want to leave you sitting up for a while til we see how it goes. If it stays, I'd like to try it again in the morning."

Sheppard screwed up his face in disgust. "Are you sure there's nothing you can do about the taste?"

"I could give it to you through a feeding tube," offered Beckett.

"No . . . no, I'm fine. We can just do it this way."

"If you keep down a morning dose of my special brew, I'll see about getting you some broth for lunch. How about that?"

John nodded. "I can live with that. Anything that doesn't make me throw up. I'm so tired of that."

"Aye, lad, I know. Try to get some rest. We need to get your fever down."

John nodded as he leaned his head back against the pillows. His stomach felt oddly full, even though he hadn't put that much in it. At least it didn't hurt at the moment. As the activity in the infirmary lessened and it became quiet, he felt himself being lulled to sleep.

oOo

He felt as though he was lost in a maze. He could hear Rodney and Ronon calling for him, begging him to help them. They were hurt and starving and he couldn't find them. He kept searching, but every path he took turned into a dead end. Their cries were getting weaker and more desperate, emphasizing that he didn't have much time.

John sat straight up in bed, peering through the darkness. He could no longer hear Rodney and Ronon and that scared him. What if they were dead? What if they died waiting on him to come help them?

He leaped out of bed, stumbling and falling to the floor. He felt a tug on the back of his hand and then a burn, as if something had stung him. Shaking it off, he pulled himself to his feet and staggered off in the dark, searching for his ailing team mates.

Nick stepped out of the storeroom and looked around the infirmary. "Kelly?"

"What?" He couldn't see her for a few seconds, then finally saw her head stick out of the records closet.

"Did you hear something?"

"No, but I scooting a cabinet around on the floor, so I probably wouldn't have noticed if a bomb went off in here."

Nick continued to study the room as he walked out farther to get a better view of the whole ward. "Oh, crap. Sheppard's gone."

"What?" Kelly hurried out to stand next to Nick. Sheppard's bed was empty, his IV line lying in the floor around his crumpled sheet. "Bathroom?"

Two sets of eyes went to the open door and dark room. "No, it's not going to be that easy. I'll start looking and you call Carson." Nick took off down the hall as Kelly sighed.

"Right, Nick. Leave me to tell the boss we lost his most important patient. Thanks a bunch." Kelly took a deep breath and clicked her radio.

TBC