SILENT SACRIFICE...part 15

Nick knew that, realistically, Sheppard couldn't have gone far. But he couldn't quite shake the panic that was rushing through his veins as he ran down the shadowy corridor. He also couldn't stop thinking about how pissed Dr. Beckett was going to be when he found out about Sheppard being missing.

Or not missing. To Nick's intense relief, he found Colonel Sheppard just past the bend in the corridor. He was slumped against the wall and Nick ran to him, kneeling down beside him and reaching out to check his pulse first thing. It was a bit thready and Sheppard's skin was warm but clammy. His fever was up. "Colonel," Nick said softly, not wanting to spook him since he seemed unaware of his presence, despite Nick's touch.

"Rodney?" John turned his head, blinking hard and looking hopeful.

"It's Nick, Dr. Stauhan," he replied. "What are you doing out of bed, Colonel?"

John reached out with a shaky hand, thin fingers curling in the lapel of Nick's lab coat. "I have to find them," he whispered. "Please...will you help me find them before the Wraith come?"

Nick gripped John's wrist, frowning to feel how thin and fragile it was. "Find who?" he asked.

"Rodney and Ronon." John was trying to get to his knees now, but his body was not cooperating and he almost growled in frustration. "I went to find water and I got lost. I can't find them." He was becoming agitated and distressed.

"I'll help you," Nick promised, wrapping his arms around Sheppard and hauling them both upright. It scared him how light the Colonel was. Seeing his fragile state was one thing, feeling it was worse. But Nick forcibly detached himself from becoming too emotional. Sheppard didn't need pity right now. He needed a doctor and a friend.

John made the attempt to walk away, pulling free of the grip on him, only his knees buckled and he almost fell. "Dammit!" he raged, thin fists suddenly banging against his thighs.

Nick supported him and said softly, "It's okay, Colonel. You're on Atlantis now and Rodney and Ronon are here too, and they're safe." He watched as hazel eyes focused on him, confusion and hope flickering in their depths.

"We're home?" he whispered.

"You're home," Nick confirmed, and it about near broke his heart when Sheppard's eyes grew bright with dampness. He felt his own eyes burn with unshed tears. The man was falling apart in front of everyone and it was painful to watch. Painful and wrong. Nick cleared his throat and said, "We need to get you back to the infirmary, Colonel. You need to rest so you can get better."

John nodded, the movement slow and painful looking. "It was a dream," he breathed. "I kept dreaming they died...in the cave. I couldn't save them."

Nick felt something tighten in his chest, making it feel like he couldn't breathe properly. He couldn't even imagine the hell it must have been for Sheppard and his team. He couldn't image the guilt Sheppard was feeling, even though it felt almost viable in this moment. "You kept them alive, Colonel," Nick stated. "You got them home."

"Cold," John said, shuddering now in the thin scrubs.

"We'll get you back in bed and all warmed up," Nick promised, as he got them moving forward. He could feel Sheppard trying to support his own weight and struggling with the effort. The trembling in the thin body increased and Nick increased his support.

They made it back through sheer willpower on Sheppard's part. Carson was waiting for them, his expression grim and Nick sent a silent apology his way. The hand that clapped him on the shoulder let him know that Beckett didn't blame him for what happened. For that Nick was grateful, even though he still blamed himself. He was also grateful when Carson moved to the Colonel's other side and helped Nick support him back to his bed.

Carson looked upset as they got Sheppard settled again, running his hands over the shuddering form. "His fever's up."

"I know. He's delusional." Nick drew the blanket's over Sheppard then accepted an IV needle from Kelly, along with an alcohol pad. "Just a pinch, Colonel," he said, as he started the new line. He doubted Sheppard heard him, but he wanted him to inform him anyway. He didn't want the man to have to deal with any surprises.

"We'll give him stronger antibiotics and a double dose of ibuprofen," Carson stated as he studied his most worrisome patient.

Nick nodded, then he and Beckett and Kelly worked as a team to get the Colonel situated and sleeping again. Then he and Carson moved away for a bit of a chat. "Sheppard thought he was back on that planet and that he had lost Rodney and Ronon. Or rather he had gotten lost and couldn't find his way back to them. He was afraid the Wraith were going to get them."

Carson sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face then pressing fingertips to closed eyelids for a moment. "Just when it looks like he might be getting better, the poor man gets hit with yet another set back. It's just not fair."

"I should have been keeping a better watch on him," Nick stated, feeling his guilt flare up again.

"You can't watch him every minute," Carson protested. "And you can't tell me you honestly believed the man had the strength to get out of bed. Because I sure didn't."

Nick shrugged. "I don't know what I believe about Sheppard any more. He defies all aspects of every rule or belief in every way."

Carson chuckled at that. "Aye, laddie...that he does. And it's that damned defiance that's going to get him through whatever hell comes his way. He's going to get better and then life around here will get back to normal. Or, rather, what passes for normal on Atlantis," he amended.

"Amen to that," Nick said, turning to study Sheppard's pale form. "I'm going to sit with him for a while." As he spoke, Nick dropped down into the chair next to the Colonel's bed.

"I'll be back in the morning," Carson said. "Call me if you need me."

Nick nodded, his eyes never leaving Sheppard's face.

OoO

Carson walked into the infirmary a few hours later to find Nick looking exhausted and Colonel Sheppard in loose restraints. "What happened?" he asked, moving to the bed to give Sheppard a once over.

Nick moved to join him, looking exhausted. "His temp spiked and he became increasingly delusional. He tried to get up again to look for Rodney and Ronon. Then he thought the Genii were back and he was screaming at Kolya to leave Dr. McKay and Dr. Weir alone. And just about an hour ago he was trying to run off to find Ford."

"Bloody hell!" Carson cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He reached for John's chart and was relieved to see that his temp was down to just under 102. But it was still worrisome. "Go get some rest," He told Nick. "I have a feeling I'm going to need you in top form tonight."

"I hope you're wrong," Nick replied, worry glimmering in his eyes. He studied Sheppard for a moment, then turned and left the infirmary.

Carson did a pulse and BP check on Sheppard, liking to be hands on with his patients. He wrote down the results on the chart then grabbed the chair and settled himself into it. "What am I going to do with you, Colonel?" he muttered, as he studied Sheppard's pale face. He watched as the man shifted in the bed, tugging at the restraints and muttering softly. "Keep fighting the good fight, laddie. I know you're going to win in the end, but damned if you aren't going to give me gray hairs by the time you do."

He wasn't alone in keeping his vigil. There were a smattering of other patients, nothing major to deal with, and when he did have to be away, Teyla or Ronon or Weir sat with Sheppard. Rodney came by for a few minutes as well, but his back was bothering him so Carson sent him to his room to rest.

It was late in the afternoon and Carson found himself dozing in the chair by Sheppard's bed when he heard someone calling his name. He nearly tipped himself onto the floor in his haste to get to his feet, when he realized it was the Colonel calling him. First thing he did was press a hand to Sheppard's forehead. It was cool and damp and relief flooded through Carson. The fever had finally broken. "How are you feeling, laddie?" Carson queried, even as he reached for the ear thermometer for confirmation.

"Been better," John croaked, otherwise being still till the thermometer beeped.

"Fever's gone," Carson announced.

John just looked at him. "What did I do?" he asked after a painful moment of silence.

Carson frowned in confusion? "Do?" he echoed. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"This?" John tugged at the restraints. "What did I do?" he repeated.

"Bloody hell!" Carson cursed, even as he began undoing the arm closest to him. "I'm sorry, Colonel. You didn't do anything. I mean...you were delirious and tried to get out of bed and the restraints were just so you couldn't do more damage to yourself."

John seemed to ingest that information, and when both wrists were free he rubbed at them then frowned at his hands. "The IV was in the other hand, wasn't it?"

Carson nodded. "You pulled it out so we had to move it."

"Oh." John shifted in the bed, looking uncomfortable. "I have to pee," he announced.

"Urinal?" Carson asked, hopefully, but he knew the reply he would get. Only he didn't.

John simply nodded. "That's fine."

Carson tried to hide his shock, turning away to get the required object. He pulled the privacy curtain then assisted a bit as the Colonel relieved himself. He then called to a nurse who came and took the urinal to dump. Carson then turned back to Sheppard and eyed him with concern. "I didn't expect that," he confessed.

"Tired," John replied, licking his lips.

"Would you like some water?" Carson mentally kicked himself for not offering sooner."

John nodded. "Please." He gripped the cup Beckett held out to him, but his hand was shaking too hard to keep a good hold. He said nothing as Carson helped steady it. He simply took two small sips then relaxed back against the pillows.

Carson set the cup aside then asked, "Are you in any pain?"

"Stomach hurts a bit," John allowed. "Head too."

"I'll get you something," Carson said, taking a moment to fuss with the blankets first. He knew Sheppard had to be feeling weak and basically like crap, but it was as if all the fight had gone out of him and that worried Beckett more than the fever had. "Get some rest, Colonel," he said softly. He watched Sheppard's eyes closed then he went off to fetch the pain killer. Carson injected it into the IV port and he was relieved when Sheppard's body seemed to relax into the bed. He listened as his breathing deepened, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

Sitting back down in the chair, Carson kept vigil over Sheppard, not moving until Nick appeared to take his place. Then Carson went to his quarters and tried to sleep, but even once he drifted off he dreamed about Sheppard fighting the Wraith but in the end giving up and being fed upon until he withered away to dust and disappeared.

OoO

When John woke up, he did so in stages of awareness. First thing to catch his attention was the fact that his stomach hurt. He swallowed a moan and curled up onto his side, trying to ride out a wave of pain. He next became aware of someone calling his name, then a touch to his face and his eyes popped open. He recognized Nick's face.

"Stomach hurt?" the doctor asked, concern darkening his eyes.

"A little," John admitted, almost sighing in relief when the cramp eased. He rolled onto his back again, feeling sluggish. "Could I have some water?"

Nick smiled, already reaching for the cup. "Of course. Just small sips," he reminded.

John did as he was told but still wondered for a moment if it was going to stay down. The simple effort of drinking though, cost him. He felt as worn out as if he'd run a marathon. "Sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes and feeling Nick fuss with the covers. He realized something else as well. He had a catheter again.

"Sorry for what?" Nick prompted.

"Being such a bother and a mess," John replied.

Nick made a strangled sound then he was heaving a sigh. "Colonel, don't start thinking like that," he admonished. "What happened happened and you're doing the best you can to get better. You knew it was going to be a long haul."

John heaved his own sigh then opened his eyes, but he didn't look at Nick. "I feel like I keep going backwards," he replied. "No forward steps." Which to his mind was starting to mean, no hope. John knew the deal. He had to eat to get better, but his own body was starting to betray him. How could he fight against that?

"That happens," Nick allowed. "It just means you have to be patient and keep on keeping on." He reached out and patted John on the shoulder, his hand stiffening a moment, then pulling away.

"I won't break," John whispered, because he knew Nick's reaction was to how thin he was. He was staring at his own hands, hands that were skeletal thin. Hands that looked impossibly fragile. Like they wouldn't be able to hold a gun. They didn't look like his hands anymore.

Nick turned to grab the chair and bring it closer, then he sat down and cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for what he was about to say. "I'm not going to lie to you, Colonel. You've got a long way to go to getting better. But you will get better. You just have to accept the fact that it's not going to happen overnight."

John knew that, but he was just so damn tired of feeling so damn tired. "How long was I out of it?" he asked, one hand gesturing over his lap so that Nick would get the hint why he was asking.

"Two days, give or take a few hours," Nick replied. "I can take the catheter out now if you like. But you'll probably have to use a urinal for today."

"Whatever," John replied, because he really didn't have the energy to care anymore.

Nick made a face then stood up. "I'll get some gloves and be right back." He was as good as his word and a few minutes later John was catheter free. "Are you hungry?" Nick asked, as he handed off the tubing and tossed away the gloves.

John was and he wasn't, but he knew he needed to eat. He just doubted his stomach could handle anything, and that must have shown on his face because Nick stated,

"We need to start with Carson's nasty concoction." Nick grimaced then chuckled when John glared at him. "I know it has to taste as bad as it looks, but if you can get more in you it's going to make a world of difference. Trust me."

"Okay." John knew he needed to trust someone. So he waited, dozing lightly, while Nick went and fetched a mug of goop. Then he steeled himself and swallowed it down, fighting his gag reflex. A glass of water helped to keep it down, but the whole process left John feeling exhausted.

Nick smoothed his covers and said softly, "You did great, Colonel. Try and get some sleep now."

John's reply was to close his eyes and drift softly into darkness.

THE END...of part 15