Wow this turned out to be another longish chapter – and, especially for Linzi and SLC, now featuring more Sheppy blood :)

This story seems to be dragging on forever but rest assured time is slowly passing and now that we have the whole team back together again I think things are gonna start to skip along a bit faster.. and maybe.. just maybe, Sheppy might start to feel better soon? Whaddaya think? Oh and lookit, I managed to resist the temptation to do another cliffhanger:)

As ever, please do review and let me know your thoughts…

Rodney McKay was awoken by the murmur of voices.

"Where's Sheppard?"

A deep rumble of a voice. He knew that voice. Ronon.

He stirred groggily. Can't be Ronon. Ronon was off-world. Ronon had gone with Teyla and the Athosians to trade with the Lenarans and he and Sheppard..

Memory flooded back in a heady rush. He opened his eyes to see a pale green, patterned ceiling and an IV pole with a nearly empty bag of solution hanging from it. A familiar pinched feeling at his elbow left him in no doubt as to what the IV was connected to. Oh god.. it wasn't a dream. He was still in the infirmary.. and Sheppard was still..-

"He's still in recovery.. Dr Beckett is..."

Rodney rolled his head gingerly to the side, still feeling somewhat drowsy and slow. Six foot plus of Satedan warrior loomed over the nurse who stood defiantly blocking the doors through to the surgical suite. Give the woman her due, she didn't seem to be remotely intimidated by the fierce ex-runner. Folding her arms stoically, she refused to give an inch.

"You'll have to wait." Her voice was as firm as her stance. She didn't flinch as Ronon's lips pulled back in something approaching a growl.

Rodney tried to speak but his mouth felt dry and sticky with sleep and all that came out was a whispered croak. The slight sound was enough to attract Ronon's attention, his loose dreadlocks swinging as he whipped his head round to pin McKay with his gaze. Rodney shrank back slightly under the intensity of that look. Jeez. Sometimes – okay, quite a lot of the time – Ronon scared Rodney.

"What happened to you?" Ronon's tone was terse, matter of fact.

McKay swallowed thickly and for once was pleased by the timely appearance of his overly-attentive nurse. She did the talking for him as she gently raised the bed up and held a cup of water to Rodney's parched lips.

"There was an explosion in the labs; Dr McKay received a slight head injury. He'll be fine with proper care and plenty of rest." McKay was surprised to see the nurse throw him a little teasing smile with that comment. For a moment he felt a little guilty for the way he'd spoken to her the previous day.

"What about Sheppard?"

Ronon's face was anything but smiling and the humour died from the nurse's face. "Colonel Sheppard's injuries were more severe.."

"He pushed me out of the way," McKay interrupted, his voice cracking. "The self-sacrificing fool pushed me out of the way and got himself blown up!" He could hear an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice as he spoke and he clamped his mouth shut, dropping his gaze to stare woodenly at his hands clasped tightly on the pristine infirmary blankets. He didn't look up when the nurse laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He liked it better when she was annoyed at him. He didn't want to see the sympathy in her eyes.

The sudden silence in the room was heavy. After a long moment the nurse's rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the floor as she walked away. The silence lingered and McKay wondered briefly if Ronon had left too – the man moved liked a damn cat, lithe and silent.

When McKay looked up Ronon was regarding him silently, appraisingly. Rodney had the unnerving feeling that Ronon was looking at him as if he'd never really seen him before. The runner hadn't moved from his position by the doors to the surgical suite. His face was as stoic and expressionless as ever but his eyes.. his eyes spoke of fear and pain, a lifetime of loss. Rodney wondered if a hint of that same fear showed in his own eyes. It seemed to McKay that they communicated without words, their shared concern for Colonel Sheppard forming a strange bond between these two most different of men, an understanding of each other that went beyond surface actions. Ronon nodded solemnly and, with a sudden hiss of a door opening, the silence, and the spell, in the room was broken. Ronon turned at the sound, breaking eye contact, and Rodney looked around to see Elizabeth and Teyla.

"Ronon?" There was bemusement on Teyla's face as she picked up on the lingering atmosphere in the room, her brow furrowing as she looked from Ronon to Rodney.

Ronon merely nodded to Teyla and turned back to his original objective, folding his arms stubbornly and fixing an intimidating glare on the nurse who still defended the entrance to the surgical room. "She won't let me see Sheppard," he rumbled coldly.

"Ronon.." Elizabeth stepped forward instinctively to mediate the situation and the nurse gratefully turned her gaze to the expedition leader. "I'm sorry Dr Weir, but Dr Beckett was quite clear in his instructions. Absolutely no visitors until he tells me otherwise."

Elizabeth nodded her understanding, resting a calming hand on the Satedan's arm. "Is there any news?" she queried, unable to keep a wistful note of hope from creeping into her voice.

The nurse's face was apologetic. "No real change since this morning. He had.." Rodney couldn't help but notice how the nurse's gaze flicked over to himself and away again in the minute pause before she continued, "a difficult night..."

A vague memory drifted unbidden into Rodney's mind, a jumble of images and sounds... confusion and shouting and the whine of a flatline, the snapping discharge of the defibrillator.. and Carson's voice, calling his name, telling him Sheppard was ok. His breath hitched in his chest. The images seemed disconnected, dreamlike. It wasn't a dream, was it?

"What do you mean "difficult night"? What happened?" he snapped, struggling to sit up in his bed. He could hear the edge of panic in his voice and he pushed down on that, trying to smother the fear.

His outburst had stopped all conversation and McKay saw immediately on Elizabeth's face that she knew to what he was referring. She knew.

Rodney swallowed, his heart in his mouth. "Did he...? His heart stopped, didn't it?" Elizabeth's expression was solemn, her concern for the Colonel writ large across her features. McKay felt sick.

"They had to resuscitate him again, didn't they?" he mumbled in horror, memories slowly crystallising. He'd gotten up in the early hours, hadn't he? Gone to check on Sheppard and seen... he'd seen... He had a sudden shaky recollection of Carson's soft brogue reassuring him that they'd "got him back".

Ronon and Teyla looked to Dr Weir for confirmation, Teyla's face registering her shock as realisation of the seriousness of Sheppard's condition sank in. Ronon expression was closed, his eyes shuttered, but Rodney found he had a new-found insight into the gruff Satedan. There was a controlled blankness to Ronon's expression, a rigid tension to his posture, that spoke volumes as to his state of mind. The former runner might not articulate it in words but it was clear to McKay that he cared about Sheppard as much as any of them.

The doors behind the nurse suddenly slid open and a weary Dr Beckett came to an abrupt halt, looking somewhat startled to find everyone grouped in the doorway.

"Carson.."

"Where's Sheppard?"

"Dr Beckett.."

"Is he ok!"

"Hold on just a minute!" Carson held up a hand to fend off the babble of voices as everyone spoke at once.

The doctor looked exhausted and it occurred to McKay that Carson had spent half the previous day battling to save Colonel Sheppard's life, had been there in the early hours of the morning when Sheppard had flatlined and was still here in the infirmary, still working hard to keep Sheppard alive. Rodney doubted the man had slept at all in more than 30 hours.

"Before you ask... the Colonel is holding his own." Carson took a moment to rub a tired hand across his face as Sheppard's team let out a collective breath they barely realised they'd been holding.

"Can we see him?" Ronon was the first to voice the question on all of their minds, his tone impatient.

Beckett hesitated and a cold, heavy weight settled in Rodney's stomach. Oh god. Something was wrong. What else was wrong now, dammit? If Sheppard died…. Oh god, if Sheppard died it would be his fault. The Colonel had only been in the labs because Rodney was there… he'd only been injured so badly because he'd tried to save his life instead of worrying about his own. McKay felt a sick hopelessness well up inside him. The worst thing was that he knew that Sheppard wouldn't see it that way, wouldn't blame him at all. And that just made him feel all the worse.

Carson's reluctance couldn't hold up in the face of so many hopeful faces and Rodney guessed the kind-hearted Scot probably felt sorry for Ronon and Teyla, who had had this news thrust suddenly open them and were no doubt needing to reassure themselves that Sheppard was okay. Either way, Dr Beckett's resistance wavered as he looked over the group clustered around him and, when his eyes moved past them and met Rodney's gaze, he relented.

"Okay then. But only for a moment."

Carson's eyes stayed with Rodney as he spoke and the scientist began to get a little paranoid, wondering if the burden of guilt he was struggling with had shown through in his face.

"I have to warn ye though…"

Rodney didn't want to hear Carson's warning, didn't want to know what further trauma Sheppard had suffered, he just wanted to see his friend and try to find a bit of hope somewhere that he wasn't going to lose him for good. He pushed back the blankets and struggled to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

"Rodney, where d'you think you're going?" Carson's voice was tinged with a note of exasperation.

McKay set his jaw stubbornly. "I'm coming to see Colonel Sheppard."

Carson sighed. "Not without a wheelchair, you're not. I've already had to pick you up off the floor once today."

Rodney bristled at that, his chin rising as he glared at his team, daring them to so much as comment. He swore he could see the hint of a smile tugging at Elizabeth's lips but Ronon and Teyla returned his gaze with poker-faces intact. He made a mental note never to play cards with those two.

"I'll be fine," he declared stubbornly. He used his arms to slide himself carefully off the mattress and couldn't hold back an instinctive "Oww," as his stiff muscles protested the movement.

"Oh for goodness sake." Carson didn't bother to hide his exasperation as he strode into the infirmary.

"Jessica, could you get me a wheelchair for Dr McKay please?" The guard-dog, as Rodney had rather snippily come to think of her, moved swiftly to comply and Dr Beckett turned to the small crowd gathered around the now closed doors to the surgical suite.

"Just one moment. Then you can see him." He made sure to wait until everyone, especially Ronon, had grudgingly acquiesced before turning to see to his other recalcitrant patient.

"Stay still, Rodney," he chided, "before your pull your IV out."

Beckett's hands were gentle but firm as he nudged McKay back to a seated position on the bed and, after seeing that the IV bag was all but finished, carefully withdrew the needle lodged in the crook of Rodney's elbow. McKay couldn't help a hiss of pain as Carson peeled back the tape holding the needle and tubing securely in place and the doctor gave him a long-suffering look.

"How're you feeling? The truth now!" Carson's voice made it clear he was in no mood to play games and Rodney quickly gave in.

"Tired. Achy"

"Aye, well I'm no surprised. You had an exhausting day yesterday and your midnight wanderings certainly didn't help matters any."

He pressed a small piece of dressing to the puncture wound and guided Rodney's hand to hold it in place. "Plenty of sleep and rest and you'll be back to normal within a day or two."

McKay's aching muscles were not at all happy about the transfer to the wheelchair and he felt positively geriatric as, with Carson and the nurse's help, he lowered himself stiffly into place. He felt an absurd mix of impatience and apprehension as Carson wheeled him over the join his team-mates.

"Okay." Carson spoke to the group calmly but firmly. "You can only stay for a moment or two. The Colonel is still very weak. He's still on the ventilator at present and.."

Rodney felt that same, sick coldness wash over him as Beckett hesitated.

"..I don't want you to be alarmed at the Colonel's appearance.

Beckett couldn't miss the looks of apprehension his words caused and he rushed to reassure them, "He has some side effects from the blood transfusion. It's fairly common - nothing to worry about – but it does look a bit… unsettling."

With that he pushed Rodney's wheelchair forwards and the doors slid open to admit them to the surgical suite.

An immediate hush fell over the little group as their attention fell on the only occupied bed in the recovery room. From the doorway they could barely see Colonel Sheppard at all, their view blocked by the array of machines and monitors required just to keep the Colonel alive. From his seat in the wheelchair Rodney couldn't see past most of the machines even as they approached the bed but he heard Elizabeth's involuntary gasp from just behind him. Beckett carefully manoeuvred Rodney into a gap between the rows of medical equipment and McKay felt his heart sink. Sheppard looked… awful.

His messy shock of hair was dark against the stark white sheets, the pale tinge of his skin. The eyes that were usually so full of life and good humour were closed, the lower half of his face obscured by the thick tubing of the ventilator. The sheet was drawn up to his chest, his arms and hands a mass of taped IV ports. What drew McKay's attention though, what made Elizabeth gasp and Teyla look so solemn, was the scattered mottling of the skin on the Colonel's arms and across his chest … ugly red pinpricks and blotches of colour marred the skin in patches, almost like a rash.

Carson's voice was soft from behind him. "It's called thrombocytopenic purpura – bleeding under the skin. It's caused by low platelet count following the loss of blood and subsequent transfusion."

Teyla spoke slowly, her concern evident as she tore her eyes away from the angry marks to seek reassurance from Dr Beckett. "You say it is not.. dangerous?"

"No love, not at all. It will most likely clear up on its own over the next day or two." The unspoken addendum to that sentence hung heavy in the air. "If…" Rodney thought gloomily. "If he survives that long."

Carson began to explain the nature of the Colonel's injuries to Ronon and Teyla, filling them in on what had happened in their absence, Teyla doing most of the talking as Ronon stared solemnly at his injured CO. McKay let their voices tune out as he regarded his friend. Sheppard looked so… so fragile. Not a word he had ever associated with the Colonel before. Even when the iratus bug had been draining the life from him, leaving him pale, paralysed and in pain, Sheppard had been forceful, in control. He had still taken charge of events, still been their leader, forcing Rodney to pull himself together, reminding them of their obligations to the marines in the forward compartment, arguing his treatment options with Beckett and his team, suggesting himself that they stop his heart in order to save his life. McKay had been a little in awe of Sheppard that day, envious of his strength, his fortitude.

And now Sheppard looked.. broken. And if Sheppard could be so suddenly and completely broken, then what hope was there for someone like himself?

"Oh my god.. Carson!"

Elizabeth had moved up to the head of the bed, her mouth pressed thin as she gazed down at her unconscious military commander; the man who was, in many ways, her partner in leading this mission.

Her voice was shocked, rising into a note of panic as she called for Carson, interrupting the doctor's explanations as he hurried forward.

"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry.."

Beckett grabbed a bowl and cloth from beside the bed and leaned over the Colonel, blocking Rodney's view. Panic seized him and he leaned forward in the chair, peering past the bank of monitors to see the cloth come away bloody as Carson dabbed it carefully to Sheppard's face. Rodney felt sick as he realised fresh, red blood was trickling from Sheppard's nose.

"It's another side effect of the low platelets, I'm afraid," Carson was explaining calmly. "Even with the blood products he's received it's going to take time for his platelets to get back to normal."

He continued to press the cloth to Sheppard's face, the pristine, white fabric gradually staining red as the slow flow of blood soaked into it. Rodney felt something close to despair. He couldn't do this; he wasn't the strong one. Sheppard was the strong one. But Sheppard lay close to death, a machine breathing for him, bleeding into his skin and from his nose, all because he'd protected him, protected Rodney.

"Okay everyone, I'm afraid that'll have to do for now." Carson still leaned over the bed, his attention focused now on his patient. He looked up at them briefly.

"I'll let you know as soon as I have any further news for you."

They stepped back from the bed, leaving Carson to his work, but before they turned to go it was Ronon who voiced the question they were all thinking.

"Doctor. Is he going to be okay?"

Beckett's face was sombre, his voice carefully non-committal.

"I'll let you know, son. I'll let you know…"

TBC….