A/N: I am so sorry for the long delay. I had a good time in Croatia and when I got back on the weekend, there was so much to do.. RL sucks again.
Thank you Kathleen for your help, that was mega fast this time hugs
"Carson?" Elizabeth asked once she was certain that John was asleep again. The doctor was busy checking the dressing of the wound.
"This is gonna need changin'," he muttered, mostly to himself, before turning around to face Elizabeth and Rodney. "I think he's gonna be fine," he assured them with a huge smile.
Elizabeth froze in shock, but it didn't take Rodney long to digest the news.
"Really? How would you know that?" he asked doubtfully. Rodney was used to Beckett voicing the worst possible outcome, not taking the chance of getting anybody's hopes up. Now, however, the doctor sounded convincingly optimistic.
"Because, Rodney, his blood pressure has finally come back up to normal, and the wound is starting ta heal. Without complications, he'll be good as new in a few weeks."
"That's wonderful news, Carson!" Elizabeth hugged the doctor joyfully. This was the best news she'd had in days.
"Aye, it is…. But now I want ya two ta get to your quarters and get some rest. He's gonna be fine, but he won't wake up before tomorrow. Until then, ya can get a good night's sleep and be alert when he needs ya." Carson knew that Elizabeth, and maybe himself, were the ones in desperate need of some sleep, but he shot Rodney a warning glance for good measure, to which the scientist gave a reassuring nod. He knew that it was easier to convince Elizabeth to take care of herself when they ganged up on her.
Carson was surprised that she left without an argument. It was clear to anyone who knew her that she looked dead tired, and he came to the conclusion that she probably didn't get much – if any – sleep in the last few days. That made it all the more important that Sheppard was finally coming out of the woods.
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The next morning
Teyla entered the isolation room of the ICU early, just as she did every morning. It was still quiet in the infirmary and the lights were dimmed. She was surprised and relieved that the chair next to John's bed was unoccupied, but when she was about to sit down, Dr. Beckett came in, still looking sleepy.
"Oh, good morning, love. Yer quite early." He rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch.
Teyla wondered whether the doctor had slept in the infirmary again and had just woken up.
"I was going to relieve Dr. McKay so he can get some rest, but he does not seem to be here."
"Yes, yes. I sent him and Dr. Weir ta their quarters late last night," Carson explained plainly.
"But we decided to take turns at the Colonel's bed, so he would not be alone in case he regained consciousness." Teyla's voice grew harsher. It had been very important to her that somebody was always there with the Colonel; it made her sleep a little better.
"Well, I regret ta inform ya, but yer too late," the doctor said with a smile, but only succeeded in confusing the Athosian even more. She looked at her watch and back at Beckett who was still grinning.
"But I am not…"
Carson was starting to feel sorry for Teyla and interrupted, "It's okay, love. He woke up last night when Rodney and Elizabeth were here. His vitals look much better, and I'm convinced he's going ta make it. In fact, the sedative I gave him should be wearing off pretty soon."
A sense of relief washed over Teyla. That was not what she had expected. Nevertheless, her tension stubbornly remained. John looked no different than he had two days ago…too pale and too weak.
"Are you sure?" Teyla never took her eyes off of the still figure in front of her.
"Ya can never be a hundred percent sure, but his vitals really look promising." That said, Carson checked the readings again, only to find the Colonel's pulse was slightly elevated.
"I think he's wakin' up, lass," he said, gently pushing Teyla to the side.
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Regaining consciousness was smoother for John this time. The pain was only a dull throb in his stomach, and he remembered waking up much more uncomfortably in the past. Beckett probably had him on the good stuff, and he was certainly thankful for that. The first thing he noticed was the quiet woosh of the ventilator that was still in place.
When he heard Carson calling out to him, he briefly wondered whether the doctor had ever left his side since he last woke up. It felt like only ten minutes had passed, but he guessed it had probably been a few hours. The good stuff also tended to make you sleep long and dreamlessly.
John had almost drifted back to sleep when the doctor's urges for him to open his eyes grew louder and more frequent. Knowing that Beckett wouldn't leave him alone, he slowly pried his eyes open, happy that the lights were dimmed down to a tolerable level. It hurt his eyes far less than before.
But his gratification only lasted for so long since Carson didn't lose much time to bug him with his penlight again. He'd never understand how one's eyes could be so important in evaluating someone's condition.
"Are you in any pain, son?" Carson asked, bringing his face closer to Sheppard's. His worried expression was still swimming in and out of focus, and John needed a moment to focus. Once he had managed to stop the room from swimming, he weakly shook his head as far as the ventilator allowed him to move.
Carson immediately noticed his discomfort. "Yer oxygen level seems alright, ya want me ta take that out?" he asked rhetorically.
Sheppard nodded. This had been easy. Once he got rid of that thing, he knew he'd feel much better. Maybe a little less helpless…
"Okay lad, ya know the drill. On three, just give me the biggest cough ya can manage," the doctor explained, peeling off the tape around the tube.
"One…two…three!" he counted, pulling out the tube as fast as he could.
The following coughing fit left John wondering why Carson never did him the favor of taking the tube out while he was unconscious. It'd sure spare him a lot of pain. He made a mental note to ask the doctor about that once his throat wasn't feeling like a cut of raw meat anymore.
When the coughing fit finally subsided, John fell back against his bed breathlessly. All his strength had vanished, and the dull throb in his side was once again replaced by a stabbing pain. He desperately clutched at his midsection, but despite the ringing in his ears, he heard Beckett say, "Hold on, son. I'm givin' ya somethin' for the pain."
Whatever it was that Beckett administered had worked quickly. It didn't take the pain away, but it took most of the edge off, and he was soon able to fall back against the pillow with a sigh.
The next thing he felt was Beckett slipping an ice chip between his lips, and he was extremely grateful for that. He let the cold liquid dribble down his raw throat, soothing it like nothing else could have.
"So, how are ya feelin', son?"
Sheppard groaned. He wasn't sure whether he could completely trust his voice yet. "…been… better," he managed, his voice sounding scratchy and weak to his ears.
"Aye, I can imagine. It's been close there for a while, but yer gonna be fine."
"Honestly doc, I don't feel fine," Sheppard admitted once his voice had regained some of its usual strength. He started fumbling with the dressings on his side, only to have his hands pushed away.
"Leave that be, Colonel."
"It hurts!" John snapped, earning himself a concerned glance from the doctor. Carson wasn't sure if he should be worried. Sheppard was usually not a person to admit weakness, much less complain about pain, no matter how bad it might be. On the other hand, this could just be his exhaustion talking, and the Colonel would be back to his annoying, boyish self in no time.
John noticed the obvious concern in the way Carson was watching him. He realized that he'd let his control slip and with a deep breath, focused on shutting out the pain and regaining his composure. The last thing he needed right now was Kate Heightmeyer messing with his head. He hated talking to that woman even more than physical pain.
"Sorry doc. I guess I'm just a little wound up," he explained, noticing that he was slurring his words terribly. His head was also starting to feel woozy and fuzzy again.
'Damn pain meds, always make you tired.'
The next thing he noticed was Carson slipping an oxygen mask over his face. He must have faded out for a minute because he hadn't seen the doctor leave to get one. Before he could even begin to complain, Carson intervened. "No argument! You've been on the ventilator for four days, and ya need the oxygen."
John knew better than to argue; he wouldn't win.
"Now, I'm going ta get ya a new IV bag, this one's almost empty."
"Oh, lucky me," John replied sarcastically.
When Carson left his side, John saw Teyla hovering uncertainly only a few feet away from his bed. Had she been there the whole time? She certainly knew how to be quiet and stay in the background, a marked contrast to McKay.
"Hey, Teyla." He smiled, but could already feel his strength failing again.
"I am glad you are better, Colonel," she said, not even trying to come any closer. Even from across the room, John could see that her eyes looked tired and haunted. He frowned. Something was obviously wrong with her, and it didn't take him long to figure out that it probably had to do with what had happened with Phebus and Thalen.
'Come on, get yourself together, John!' She looked like she desperately needed him to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but he wasn't sure he had the energy for a conversation with this weight right now.
"Come here, Teyla," he said, but his voice was barely audible under the oxygen mask. It was no more than a whisper, and his eyelids kept drooping in exhaustion.
Teyla's face softened. The colonel was barely holding on, but he seemed to want to say something to her, so she shook herself out of her hesitation and went over to his bed, carefully taking his limp hand into hers.
"Sleep now, Colonel. You need to rest," she said softly but realized that Sheppard was still struggling hard to stay awake.
"…not…your fault," he whispered before his eyes closed in sleep. It had been so quiet, Teyla had almost missed it. Tears were starting to form in her eyes, painfully blurring her vision. It was a typical situation. He was the one hurt, he was the one that had just escaped death by mere inches again, and he was also the one who worried about her feelings.
Now she felt selfish for being so obvious, for needing that attention so desperately.
She sat there stroking John's warm forehead until Carson arrived with the new IV bag. "Here's breakfast, Colonel!" he exclaimed cheerfully.
"He has fallen asleep, Dr. Beckett. He feels warm, too," Teyla explained quietly without looking up.
"Good, that's what he needs most – rest. And don't worry about his temperature. That's just his body fighting to get healthy." Carson removed the empty IV bag and attached the new one to his patient's line. He noticed that the young Athosian looked lost. "Ya know he's gonna need ya during his recovery, it's gonna be very hard on him," he told her gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. Carson could tell that she needed to be needed, that she needed to help him somehow, help him through his recovery.
"I am going to be there for him," she replied, not even looking up to meet his concerned gaze.
He wanted to talk to her, reassure her that Sheppard would make it, but his attention was quickly drawn away from Teyla when Rodney entered the room, calling cheerfully.
"Caaaaarsooooon?"
"Good god, Rodney. Can't ya be a wee bit louder, ya haven't woken up the whole city, yet!" Beckett snapped in an irritated manner, hauling Rodney out into the hallway.
"Just let the man get some rest, will ya?"
"I was just going to…I didn't want to…I haven't even…Screw that, how's Sheppard?"
"Yer impossible, Rodney!" Carson said, ignoring the question and turning around to head for his office.
"Hey!" the scientist shouted indignantly.
No evil cliffie this time, huh? I think that was the most uncliffielike chapter I have ever done...
You won't have to wait that long for the next chapter. It deals with the painful recovery. I am also ready to whump poor Shep some more...
Review, review...