What's Left Behind - Chapter 3
Elizabeth walked through the infirmary door and straight into organized chaos. Teyla, Beckett, and a nurse appeared to be holding down John as he thrashed against them. Other nurses and medical personnel scrambled around them, trying to ride the fine line between helping and being in the way. After a long few seconds, John settled and the nurses moved in as Teyla backed up, never taking her eyes off the now still form. Elizabeth came up beside her, startling her.
"I'm sorry, Teyla, I didn't mean to scare you. What happened?"
Teyla's brow was furrowed, her lips pulled thin, tension almost radiating from her. "I was talking to Colonel Sheppard . . . he began having convulsions. His body is so fevered, so hot . . . " She turned to face Elizabeth. "I do not understand what has made him so ill."
Elizabeth chewed on her lower lip, her eyes never moving from where the medical personnel were working over John. Their words were clipped, their voices tense, as they called out questions and answers across the bed. She watched in fearful fascination as they started another IV and placed an oxygen mask on John's face. Only then did she realize the wheezing sound she had been hearing was John attempting to breathe.
After several minutes of agonizing uncertainty, Beckett finally approached the two women. "I'm sorry to have left you standing here so long. His temperature has shot up again, and we're going to have try to cool him down. He can't keep having seizures like this. I'm going to ask you both to leave and check back with me later so I can concentrate on helping the Colonel."
Elizabeth's frown met Beckett's equally unhappy expression. "Carson, just tell me he's going to be okay."
Carson sighed and looked back at Sheppard before returning his gaze to Elizabeth. "I wish I could, but I've never seen anything like this. To be honest, I'm not too certain what's going to happen. Just keep your fingers crossed."
Beckett nodded at the women and then headed back over to Sheppard's bed. Elizabeth looked at Teyla, worry lines around her mouth and eyes. "How about a cup of coffee . . . or maybe tea?" she asked, remembering at the last minute Teyla's preference.
Teyla nodded. "I would like that." With one last look toward Sheppard's bed, the two women headed for the mess hall.
oOo
For a short time, John thought maybe he was making some headway. He fought with all his might and he actually succeeded in getting Thalan to ask about Ronon and apologize for getting him shot. He was screaming and pushing, trying to shove Thalan's thoughts aside and take over his body again. Thalan was beginning to weaken, he was sure of it. He was hampered by the sickness, well aware of the fever that burned inside and the pain it brought with it. And then they had both lost all control as his mind and body rebelled at the war being fought within it. He was briefly aware of Thalan's panic, as his own set in, just before the chaos turned into darkness.
oOo
Beckett stood looking down at Sheppard, wondering how an infection could manifest itself so quickly and viciously as this one had. He watched two nurses gently stroke Sheppard's body with wet rags, trying to bring his fever down. Privacy curtains separated him from the rest of the infirmary as he lay stripped, except for the towel draped across his hips in an attempt to maintain his dignity. His skin glistened with the moisture of their efforts and yet remained hot to the touch, causing the nurses to wonder if anything was going to be successful. They had worked for hours with no change in his temperature.
Beckett sighed. He had done everything he knew how to do. The rest was going to be up to Colonel Sheppard. "Keep at it, ladies. That's all we can do."
He walked out from the curtained area to see Teyla and Elizabeth talking to one of the nurses. Part of him wanted to avoid them so he didn't have to see the worry in their faces or tell them that the Colonel wasn't any better. But he knew that wasn't fair, that it was the coward's way out, so he made himself steer towards the waiting women. From the looks on their faces, the nurse had already delivered the blow for him.
"Elizabeth, Teyla, I see you've been talking to Kelly."
Elizabeth nodded "John's not any better?"
"I'm afraid not, lass. We're doing all we can, he's just not responding. I don't know what else to tell you."
"Doctor!" All three turned at the shrill shout of the nurse and Carson was on the move a split second later. He made it to Sheppard's side in record time.
"What's happening?" Even as he asked, he saw Sheppard's glazed eyes open and he lurched forward a few inches, trying to sit up. Beckett pushed him down against the bed. "Take it easy, Colonel. We're doing everything we can to help you, but you've got a very high fever."
Sheppard swiped at the oxygen mask in desperation, his eyes wild and his movements sluggish. Carson caught on and moved the mask down and off his face.
"What is it, lad?"
"Tha . . . Thalan . . . not . . . " Sheppard grunted in pain and squinted his eyes shut. "No . . . stop . . . Thalan . . . " He let out a low, agonizing moan before starting to gasp for breath, his eyes closing as he lost the battle to maintain consciousness. Beckett moved the oxygen mask back over Sheppard's face.
"What was that?" asked Elizabeth, standing a few feet behind Beckett.
Beckett shook his head. "He's delirious with the fever. I have no idea what he was trying to tell us, and I doubt he does either."
"Carson . . . "
Beckett turned to Elizabeth and ushered her and Teyla outside the curtains. "I know, lass, I know. Why don't you two go get some sleep and check back with me in the morning. Maybe by then I'll have some good news to report."
"How long can he hold out with a fever like that?"
Carson sighed heavily. "Just get some rest and let me worry about that." They watched the exhausted doctor turn and make his way back to his patient, realizing that he had been afraid to give them a straight answer.
oOo
Thalan gave a mental sigh of relief. Sheppard had made one last, stubborn stand, utilizing all of his energy and had failed. Thalan had been able to shut him up before he delivered his full message. Sheppard would now be out of commission for a while, giving him a chance to take charge. He was also weak and still very sick, but not as incapacitated as Sheppard – lucky for him. He could rest now and get stronger, taking over the Colonel and his life. He would be able to live again. He drifted off into a peaceful sleep, confident that he would wake up stronger and in control, with a new life full of possibilities.
oOo
Elizabeth entered the infirmary, almost afraid to look toward John's bed, afraid that something had happened and he wouldn't be there. She was surprised to see him sleeping peacefully, with no oxygen mask and no nurses in attendance. She quickly stepped to Carson's door, her heartbeat picking up speed in her chest as hope soared within her for the first time in a while.
"Carson?"
Beckett sat up abruptly, his head snapping up off the desk as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He automatically went to stand, staggering a bit and knocking several files off his desk. "Aye, I'm coming."
Elizabeth cleared her throat, trying not to smile. "It's okay, Carson. It's just me checking up on John. He looks better this morning."
Beckett stood wavering a second before he pieced together where he was and what was happening. "Oh . . . Elizabeth. Yes, he's doing much better. I'm sorry, come in and sit down."
Elizabeth sat down and was relieved when Carson followed suit. She had been momentarily afraid she'd have to call his nurses to pick him up off the floor. "When was the last time you slept, Carson?"
He looked at her bleary-eyed and trying to blink some of the grit away as he stifled another yawn. "Sleep . . . I don't really know, it's been a while. But you're here to find out about the Colonel, not me. I'm not going to pretend I understand this, but his temperature began dropping shortly after you left. Last I checked, we had him down to 100.5, which is a far cry from where we began. His breathing is much better as well. Once the fever broke, his lungs began to clear up."
"But you don't know why he improved so much?"
Beckett shook his head. "I have no idea why he got that sick in the first place, much less why he suddenly improved the way he did. You don't usually see a fast, relentless fever like this in adults, even with an infection. We had done everything we could for him and nothing was working. I was afraid for a while I might have some very bad news for you this morning, and then poof. Suddenly, he's better."
"Well, I guess we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth."
Beckett shrugged his shoulders. "I guess not. He's still asleep, but you can see him a minute if you like."
Elizabeth grinned. "Yes, I'd like that."
Beckett got back up, a little steadier on his feet this time, and led Elizabeth to John's bed. She took his hand in hers as she moved up beside him and reached out to shift a lock of hair away from his forehead. His skin was much cooler to the touch than it had been last night, and she felt herself beginning to relax. Maybe this was finally about to be over and they could get back to normal. She was a little surprised when he opened his eyes, and noticed Carson seemed equally shocked.
"John, it's Elizabeth. You've been pretty sick, but you're going to be okay now."
John frowned and looked around the infirmary, looking disoriented and confused. "John? No, who . . . who's John?"
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to frown, worrying that the prolonged high fever or the seizures might have caused some harmful, long-term effects. "John, do you know who I am?"
John just looked at her, his face having relaxed back to an expressionless mask. She noted the glassy eyes and pallid features as she wondered if he had heard her.
Beckett had been checking on Sheppard's IV on the other side of the bed, but now leaned over to put his head close to Elizabeth's. She thought he looked almost as concerned as she felt.
"Colonel Sheppard? Son, do you know who we are or what happened?"
Elizabeth could have sworn a look of anger flashed briefly across his face as he whispered, "Thalan." And then he was asleep again, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm.
Elizabeth looked slowly up at Beckett. "Carson?"
"I think he's just exhausted from the fever. It took a lot out of him. Give him some time and I think he'll be more clear-headed when he wakes up. He just needs some rest."
Elizabeth nodded. She looked up at the droopy, red-rimmed eyes over dark circles and bags. "I think I know someone else who needs some rest. You better get some sleep before you fall over."
Beckett smiled and looked down at Sheppard. "Aye, I think I may actually be able to go to sleep now."
Elizabeth smiled as Beckett tried in vain to stifle another yawn.
oOo
Almost twenty-four hours later, Elizabeth returned to the infirmary to find an entirely different situation. She had stopped back by the night before to find John still sleeping and Beckett unconcerned about it, stating it was normal after what he'd been through. Still, Elizabeth found herself unable to shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. So the first place she went after the coffee pot was the infirmary, to check on a certain Lt. Colonel. She found him sitting up in bed devouring a tray of breakfast foods while Beckett looked on in amazement.
"Carson, you look like you've never seen anyone eat breakfast," she quipped as she approached the two men.
"I've just never seen him eat like this. Ronon yes, Colonel Sheppard, no. It's like he hasn't tasted food in eons."
Thalan swallowed his food and paused. "Ten thousand years and food tastes pretty darn good." He realized what he had said almost immediately and mentally slapped himself. "Well, it feels like ten thousand years, anyway." He bowed his head to escape their prying looks. He wasn't sure if he'd given himself away or they just thought he was brain damaged. He couldn't keep making these mistakes. He'd been disoriented when he had awakened the day before and not realized he was in someone else's body or who these people were. It was lucky for him he'd been too weak to say much.
"Well, whatever it is, I'm glad to see you have a healthy appetite. You're recovery will go much more quickly if you're eating properly." Carson crossed his arms and looked pleased.
Elizabeth smiled at them both. "John, I'm assuming you feel much better. You certainly look much better."
You are John Sheppard. You are John Sheppard. Thalan kept repeating it over and over, hoping to drill that little fact into his mind. "I'm good." The statement popped out, and it seemed right for Sheppard to say. Elizabeth and Carson accepted it with a nod, so it must have fit with what they had expected.
Elizabeth shifted her gaze back to Beckett. "How is he, really?"
Thalan successfully squelched the reply that immediately came to mind. He was offended at the automatic assumption that he was not telling the truth about his condition, until he remembered they thought he was Sheppard. He knew Sheppard found this tiring, as did he, but he remained silent, choosing to finish his breakfast and listen.
"Amazing, actually. While I've never seen anyone get so sick so fast, I don't think I've ever seen anyone recover from something so serious this quickly either. His temperature is back to normal and has been since late yesterday afternoon. Obviously his appetite is healthy. His arm has cleared up and there's no longer any sign of infection. Other than getting his strength back, which might take a day or two, he seems to be perfectly healthy."
Thalan finished eating and downed the glass of juice on his tray. "So when can I get out of here?"
Beckett narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Let's not get in too big a hurry. I want to run your blood work one more time and keep you for observation a little longer. I don't want to release you and then have your temperature shoot back up again. Let's just see how you do the rest of the day and we'll talk about it this evening."
Thalan felt his anger flash hot and it was all he could do to keep from throwing the empty food tray across the room. He clenched his fists as he tried to control the seething fury until he noticed Beckett watching him, his eyes reflecting uncertainty that made Thalan nervous. Get a hold of yourself before you blow it. He forced his hands to unclench and rubbed them together in an attempt to relieve the tension.
"Colonel?" Beckett was still frowning at him.
"Yeah . . . okay, Doc. I'm kind of tired anyway. It'll give me a chance to get some rest."
Beckett nodded, but still didn't look convinced that all was well. He'd just have to be a model patient and watch what he said. He was so close to being free he could taste it, heck, he could smell it, and there was no way he was giving it up now.
Thalan pushed the rolling tray table away and leaned back against the pillows. Beckett pulled his hand away from where he had begun absently picking at the tape on his IV line and smoothed the tape over the back of his hand.
"Colonel, you're like a child sometimes. If that's a hint, then I'm not taking it. You need the IV for a bit longer, so leave it alone."
Thalan hadn't realized he'd been doing that and it unnerved him a little. Sheppard seemed to be safely tucked away and yet that had apparently been a "Sheppard" thing to do. At least it had taken Beckett's mind off his doubts and convinced him he was dealing with Sheppard.
"Sorry, Doc. Didn't realize what I was doing." Thalan flashed the lop-sided grin that he'd already figured out was standard fare.
Beckett and Elizabeth shared a smile and a mock sigh of exasperation. "Yeah, he's back," commented Elizabeth. Thalan just grinned broadly.
THE END . . . of part 3.