Thanks to everyone for the Reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying this. I'm fairly new to the Stargate Altantis universe, but it has been great fun immersing myself in this world. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy/
Carson was woken by coughing – his own. He got up from the bench he had been trying to sleep on, and checked on the children. They all seemed to be asleep, blessed by the oblivion it brought.
He went over to his medicine chest and took out the precious supply of cough medicine. He had started to dilute it with boiled water to make it go further. Although the supply was limited, he decided to take a small amount himself. It would help no-one if he was too ill to look after them. He also took a couple more painkillers.
If he was honest, he felt awful. His temperature was all over the place. He wasn't sure if it was due to the virus or if it was due to an infection from the wound in his shoulder. His shoulder was agony. He couldn't move it now. The bullet was still in there, and it needed to be removed as soon as possible.
Since he came to the Pegasus Galaxy, Carson had found himself in some dire situations. His life and those of his friends had been threatened more often than he had thought possible, and by more dangerous foes than he knew existed.
This time he was alone. He had to protect the children, but they were his responsibility. There was no-one else there to help him. There was no John, with his wry sense of humour and his natural instinct to survive. There was no Teyla, with her calm presence and years of experience evading the Wraith. There was no Ronon, with his intimidating presence and incredible fighting skills. There was no Elizabeth, with her diplomatic skills and common sense. There wasn't even Rodney, who for all his annoying qualities, had saved the life of his friends on so many occasions. There was just a lonely doctor from Scotland who was rapidly running out of strength and ideas.
Carson sat sipping the cough medicine, contemplating what his options were. All his instincts as a doctor said it was wrong to patch up the fighters just so they could fight each other again, possibly resulting in death. But then, since he had arrived through the Stargate onto Atlantis, he had done so many things that he hadn't thought he was capable of. They were on the frontline there, and their actions had reflected this.
He closed his eyes briefly, and the face of Perna floated into his mind. His experience with the Hoffan people had been his first indication of how different life was going to be here in the Pegasus Galaxy. The fact that they had been willing to sacrifice half their population in a bid to defeat the Wraith had stunned him. The fact that he had been influential in giving them the means to do this had shattered him.
And yet that had only been the beginning of the compromises he had had to make. His moral compass had swung back and forward so often of late, he wasn't sure in which direction it was pointing.
Now he had another challenge to his beliefs as a doctor. He had to weigh the wellbeing of the children, and the other villagers who might be forced into being fighters, with the wellbeing of the current fighters.
It was a no-win situation. Whatever he did, someone would suffer. How often had that happened since he came here? Sometimes, especially in the middle of the night when his defences were lowest, he wondered why he came here. Life was much easier when he worked on Earth. His moral dilemmas had seemed less complex, more straightforward. His beliefs in humanity, and its basic goodness, had not been challenged.
But then, when morning came, and another day started, with its moments of boredom, and long stretches of frenetic activity, he remembered why he wanted the challenges of this mission. The chance to stretch the boundaries of medicine, and to work on pioneering treatments, often working on instinct as much as fact.
But at that moment, at night's low point, feeling ill, and alone, he felt the call of his home. He wished he could hear the night sounds that had comforted him as a boy growing up in Scotland. The sound of the wind rustling in the trees, and the water lapping against the shore. He bowed his head, trying to stop the tears from falling.
Suddenly, he heard a rustling in the corner. Rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, he looked up. It was Calay. She had woken up too. Sleepily rubbing her eyes, she walked over to him, and climbed up onto his knee. She gave him a sleepy smile and then cuddled up to him, her head resting on his good shoulder.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, wondering if she was having a relapse.
She nodded. "I's cold," she said, her voice slurred with sleep.
Carson smiled and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Soon her breathing indicated she had fallen asleep again.
Somehow, this simple human contact was comforting. Carson smiled at himself. "Stop being such a maudlin fool, you big Jessie," he told himself. "There is always hope. There has to be."
