AN: Big thanks to Alpha Pegasi and jennamajig for their kind reviews! I'll try my best to keep the updates coming...

AN2: Red Jell-O and sunsets, it may sound familiar if you've read my story 'Light'… I'll leave it to you to decide whether to call it foreshadowing or lack of inspiration ;-)


-

4

-

Ronon was looking incredulously at the quickly disappearing pile of food.

Well, Carson had to admit he'd been surprised himself when he had seen the huge selection Kate had dumped on his tray, but even more shocked when he had found himself digging in ravenously, easily working through the equivalent of three main courses.

Now, spooning down the last of his second cup of Jell-O, he was feeling decidedly better. The head-ache that had been plaguing him fortwo days had diminished to a more bearable level, and –more importantly- the cotton wool that had been clogging his brain was rapidly dissolving. He felt human again, and more ready to tackle his problem.

Kate really was good at her job.

First he had been a bit peeved when she had left him in the mess hall to look for the elusive McKay, thinking she took the easy way out. But now that his mind was clearing up, he understood her reasoning. Get some glucose intake, and…

"You gonna try all the colours of the rainbow?"

… enter some good friends…

Carson smiled widely at the Lieutenant Colonel, who was frowning at two empty cups with the remnants of, one cup blue and one cup green, Jell-O and the unopened red-tinted cup. "Nae, I'll be keeping the red one for Rodney. He just might be passing by the infirmary to snatch the last cup, and then…"

"You'll stick a frickin' huge needle in his bum…" Sheppard drawled, taking obvious pleasure in that mental imagery.

"Well, if that is what it's going to take to rebandage his arm properly…" Carson shrugged lightly.

"Ain't that against the Hippocratic oath or something?" Sheppard had spoken in jest, but when he saw the sudden sadness wash over the doctor's face, he instantly became serious.

"Carson?"

It sounded by no means pressuring, but it was an invitation to speak his mind, the promise of an attentive set of ears… or rather 2 sets of ears. Ronon didn't vocally convey the sentiment, but he stopped eating and slightly cocked his head to the left.

Carson swallowed something more than the last bite of Jell-O. "It's about private Reynolds…"

Sheppard's hazel eyes returned his hesitant gaze without any surprise, merely a complete understanding.

Carson blinked rapidly. "You knew?"

"Well." Sheppard quirked an eyebrow "If I'd been a betting man, I'd have wagered my Johnny Cash poster on it."

Seeing the surprised doctor was currently at a loss for words, he explained: "I heard the news from that Canadian gate tech –what's his name again?- this morning, when I returned with McKay from the infirmary."

That made Sheppard one of a very small group that would really know what was bothering Carson so much. Kate hadn't known and she had made the wrong assumption that there would be plenty of time to discuss the situation after some much needed food and rest. She hadn't known that time was something he was quickly running out of…

"Elizabeth has made me decide. So, I'm sure you're see my dilemma…" And if Carson's voice cracked a bit, they'd attribute it to lack of sleep.

Sheppard looked uncharacteristically serious. "Then, she didn't force you to choose, she gave you the opportunity to choose."

Before the doctor could utter a tirade of protests, he shook his head and continued: "No, listen for a moment, Carson. They could have whisked him straight from under your nose, leaving the decision to some uncaring, unknowing guy in another galaxy. Instead, Elizabeth made sure you can do what you feel is right."

Ronon looked confused, but understood that only his company was required, and not any intelligent input in their conversation.

Carson lowered his eyes, contemplating his empty tray. "But how do I know what's wrong and what's right?"

"The whole situation is wrong. Either decision you make is right in its own way." The answer was simple, unassuming and utterly useless from a practical point-of-view.

Carson looked up again, searching Sheppard's face for his reaction as he asked: "Would you condemn me, either way?"

"Never."

Carson saw only honesty and trust.

Ronon looked … well, stoic as ever, but his gaze on Carson was steady and far too comprehending. Maybe the former runner had picked up some of the many urban legends echoing through the Atlantian hallways, perhaps if only incidentally when listening in on the respectable amount of folly stories about himself.

Carson breathed a soft sigh. Whatever he decided, his friends would always be there for him. That reassurance was more helpful than any amount of food or sleep to clear his mind.

Some coffee wouldn't hurt either.

Ronon apparently spotted his longing glance at a nearby –empty- pot, because within all of 1 minute, the large man deposited a steaming mug in front of the physician, effectively smothering the outraged complaints of the 2 marines whose coffee he had 'borrowed' with one fierce glare.

Carson smiled softly as sipped the hot beverage, for one moment not debating with himself, but just quietly enjoying the company of good friends.


-

5

-

It was a truly spectacular sunset. A myriad of red hues painted across the darkening sky. The breathtaking last moments of a dying sun.

His father had died on an evening exactly like this.

His eyes had been the most vivid blue, and had held more sparkles in them than ever before. They had never looked so intensely focussed, so aware, so alive as when they had gazed intently at his only child. He hadn't been able to speak much anymore, his strength sapped by the terrible evil wracking his body. But his eyes had conveyed it all. How much he loved Carson, how proud he was, how he would always be there.

Then, the light had faded, to be replaced by a deep dark night.

And Carson had pledged a solemn vow. He would do all that was in his might to prevent a similar suffering from happening to anyone else. Hence becoming a medical doctor had seemed the most logical career choice, and he hadn't regretted it a moment since.

But now, as the last reddish golden rays lightly kissed his face, he wasn't so sure anymore that he had made the right choice. If he had stayed on the farm, and lived a quiet unassuming life amidst the gentle glens of his beloved home land, he could never have messed up things in another galaxy…

"Doctor Beckett?" A soft melodic voice interrupted his introspection.

He slowly turned around to find Teyla stepping out onto the balcony, and coming to stand at his side.

"Hullo." He tried to return her smile, but it was barely more than a twitching of his lips. "What are you doing so far from the main part of the city?"

He hadn't meant for it to come out that defensively, and he cringed. "I'm sorry, lass, never mind me being a wee bit crabbit…"

Teyla's soft smile never faltered. "I have been looking for dr. McKay. Colonel Sheppard said he likes to watch the sunset on one of these balconies from time to time…"

Her eyes narrowed as she took in his haggard appearance. "Are you well, dr. Beckett?"

"Aye." He answered automatically, then paused for a moment and sighed heavily. "Or maybe not."

Suddenly it all became too much. He leaned against the wall and slid down, cradling his hurting head in his hands. He felt rather than saw Teyla drop far more gracefully next to him.

"Colonel Sheppard has also told me of this decision that weighs heavily on your mind." She confessed, suddenly realizing the Colonel had never meant for her to finddoctor McKay.

Carson's head snapped back up, a flicker of defiance and annoyance in his blue eyes. "What does he think he is, my bloody psychiatrist?"

The gentle admonishing tone in Teyla's voice was not unlike that one uses on a recalcitrant child. "He only did it because he is your friend. He thought you might be more comfortable talking to a woman. He said something about not being good at clearly expressing his feelings. That 'mushy stuff', I believe he called it."

Carson smiled ruefully, appreciating the thought. He took a deep breath, and plunged in before he would chicken out again. "I took an oath, when I became a physician. Now, there may be different modern versions of the ancient oath, but the principle of 'first do nae harm' is implemented in each one of them. The original oath even explicitly states 'I will nae give a lethal drug to anyone if I am asked…'"

Carson paused for a moment, absently staring at the horizon.

"So, that all seems quite fixed and easy, then why am I even contemplating breaking my word? I'm a bloody MD, why can I nae just follow the rules physicians have been adhering to for centuries?"

It was a rhetorical question, and Teyla didn't break the momentary silence as he gathered his thoughts.

"But in this situation, I'm nae longer just his physician, I'm also his confidant, and his living will… And while I have nae exactly sworn I'd carry out his will, to me it counts as an oath, too."

He looked at Teyla, a desperate plea for advice in his eyes. "I understand his reasons. As his friend, I can even accept and support his decision. But as his doctor, I'm too much of a coward to carry it out…"

Teyla's gaze was warm and caring, and he could detect no revulsion at his admission.

"You are far from a coward, dr. Beckett." She stated matter-of-factly. "You have a gentle and caring soul that will never allow you to intentionally harm anyone. That is exactly why you doubt now. Both situations will cause harm to private Reynolds… I have faith that whatever you decide, it will only be for the good of your patient… Because you do have great courage, which is not the absence of fright, but the determination to do what is good however frightful it may be."

She smiled softly, reminiscing "Whenever I was doubtful, and unwilling to decide on a dispute amongst my people, Charin would remind me of my mother's words: 'Even though your mind may be confused, listen to your heart for it only can tell you the truth…'"

Carson bowed his head, moved by her kind words, but unable to believe them fully. "Me da' wasted away, slowly destroyed by the cancer. Yet he fought it fiercely every step of the long and rocky road. But at a given day, he released himself from the hospital and returned to our family home. He said he'd like to see the sunset from his trusty rocking chair just one more time, surrounded by his family. And although the doctor had given him at least one more month, he died that evening, with the light of day. I did nae understand then, why he just gave up after fighting so long and hard, but later I realised. He had made peace with himself, with the universe, with his fate. He had preferred to have an ending like the sunset, quiet, peaceful and with the hope of a brand new day past the horizon."

One single tear escaped his tight control, and his throat seemed swelled shut.

A gentle hand wiped the pearly drop away, capturing the sadness in compassion before it could fall on the cold uncaring floor. Teyla didn't speak, because in this situation any further words would seem hollow. Instead, she hugged him.

And as he found himself sinking ever deeper into a warm embrace strongly reminding him of his dear mum's, he saw his father smiling in the last ray of daylight.