Chapter 6: Lessons in Pain
Rodney's POV
This time the return to consciousness really hurt. Slowly, the burning pain localized itself in my left hand and arm. Crap. Who tried to kill me this time, and what did Sheppard say that made them want to? My cotton-stuffed brain didn't seem up to giving me an answer, so I just laid there instead, fervently wishing Carson and his drugs would appear. Not that I'd managed to force my eyes open to check, but if he was here, and leaving me in this much pain, he and I were going to have a serious discussion about ethics.
There's something else, something important...
Beyond the pain, hearing was the first thing to return, and I almost wished it hadn't.
"I'm bloody fine, now let me up so I can check on Rodney! An' send help to the balcony closest to where we tangled with that bloody madman! The wee lass said that's where the colonel's at!"
Well, Carson's temper certainly hasn't improved any! Wait a minute-
"Sheppard!"
Adrenaline shot through my system, lending me the strength to try sitting up despite the pain. Hands immediately grabbed my shoulders, restraining, pushing me back down. Finally, I forced my eyes open, meeting Teyla's concerned gaze.
"It is all right, Rodney. Ronon has already gone and Major Lorne's team is headed there as well. You must lie still until the medical team arrives."
Being told I couldn't do anything was not what I wanted to hear at the moment. Visions of John lying there bleeding from all manner of bad places danced in my head.
"What if they can't get to him? What if-"
"That's enough, Rodney! Ya need ta rest! Your free ride to the infirmary will be here any minute."
Carson gently moved Teyla so he could take her place next to me. Behind him loomed an anxious Elizabeth, obviously having lost her argument to keep the Scot in a position similar to my own. With a featherlight touch that none-the-less left me gasping with renewed pain, Carson began to examine my left hand. I took one look at it and once again wished for drugs. Loudly.
The whole thing was an appalling cherry red color, topped by faint black marks on my fingers. Blisters were already forming, and the faint scent of burned flesh filled the air. The corridor around me began to tilt and whirl crazily as I fought to draw in a breath. The deep roar of an ocean filled my ears, blocking out the words of those around me. Once again, hands were supporting me, and I vaguely recognized the smell of someone vomiting. A biting acidic taste in my throat and mouth abruptly informed me that the someone was me. With that disgusting revelation, I passed out.
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John's POV
Consciousness came in very gradual unpleasant stages. The first thing I was really aware of was the cold. It was a biting irritant, gnawing at me until I was forced to take another step up toward awareness. Next came the sound of waves, the soothing lap of water hitting one of Atlantis' piers.
Did I leave the balcony door open again?
It was the only reason that I could think of for my room being so damned cold. With a mental grumble at my stupidity, I tried to reach down for my blanket, which is typically crumpled at the base of my bed. At that, several nasty surprises hit me at once.
First and foremost was the pain, which was on the same level as what I'd experienced when the overgrown cockroach had been attached to my neck. It rippled through me in fierce, fiery waves, forcing every nerve ending to scream at the assault. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears, my breath hitching at each new attack.
What the hell did I get into this time and what did Rodney do to start it?
The second thing I realized was that wherever I was, I was definitely not in my bed. Whatever I was laying on was smooth, cold, and very, very hard. Also not good.
Unfortunately, I couldn't move, either, no matter how hard I tried. Again. All I could do was lay there, feeling the pain and the cold, my body alternately twitching from the misfiring nerves and shaking from the rapidly lowering temperature.
Must be night, or nearly so. Somebody must be missing me by now. They'll come, they have to. Where am I, anyway? Think, John!
Forcing my mind away from the physical, I tried to reconstruct how I'd gotten wherever I was. I had still been on medical leave for the twin stab and bullet wounds in my shoulder...
Right. McKay and Allie going at each other to the point where I almost passed out in front of my officers. Then Allie refused to talk to me. Wait a second- Allie!
Desperately latching on to the hope of rescue, I sought the familiar spark of her presence within my mind. She would feel some of the pain I was in if I touched her, but she could also go and alert someone that I once again needed the attention of my favorite doc. Except she wasn't there. Whatever, or whoever, had caused her to block herself off from me, she was still doing it. Great, just peachy. I was on my own.
It could be worse, John. At least Atlantis' winter nights aren't usually cold enough to actually kill you, just make you wish you were dead. Not like Antarctica.
With that cheery thought, I felt my awareness slipping again. I knew I shouldn't let myself sleep with possible hypothermia setting in, so I started listing all the prime numbers in my head. Unfortunately, I didn't even make it through the first twenty before I lost my battle with the encroaching darkness.
I don't know how long it was before I woke again. It could have been just minutes or hours, there was no way for me to tell. It was colder, though, and I could now feel a strong wind.
Come on, guys, where are you? Let's not do this whole abandonment thing again. Especially when we haven't even managed to leave the base.
Now, there was a lovely thought. I knew how big this city really was, and if Rodney hadn't managed to fix the sensors yet...
I'm a dead man.
That jolted me to full consciousness for another long moment, this time in pure shock.
Somebody kill me now, I'm turning into Rodney!
On that frightening notion, I drifted off again...
Only to wake to the warmth of sunlight on one leg. Day again. I'd been here the whole blasted night! Once again, I strained to move, hoping for even a tiny improvement, wishing I could scream in pure frustration and anger at the situation I'd found myself in. Unfortunately, all I succeeded in doing was provoking another round of pain waves and accompanying shivers. Damn it.I was going to have to seriously review the security protocols after this was over. I hate losing anyone for any reason, but it happening like this was something I really couldn't stand. Elizabeth and I would be having a long talk about this. If they ever came and found me.
Okay, now I've had it. First they leave me with the hippies of the Pegasus Galaxy for six months, now they leave me laying somewhere in the city for at least twelve hours! It would almost make a guy feel unwanted!
"John? I'm gonna get help. Dr. Sm- Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett are with me. Please, just hold on."
Allie's voice, sounding on the razor's edge of complete panic, echoed in my head. At that moment, it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. Before I could even form a coherent reply, she was gone again, but this time I at least knew help would be coming. I was so relieved I resolved not to argue with Carson about when I could get out of the infirmary this time. I wouldn't even try to sneak out early. Well, maybe a little early...
On that note, I drifted off once again. I really should have fought harder to stay awake.
After that, I seemed to go in and out for a while. I felt hands lifting me, heard the low rumble of Ronon's voice, though I couldn't seem to make anything coherent out of it. Movement and the squeak of a wheel that needed oiling. I must be on a gurney. Sickbay, here I come, my home away from home... away from Earth. Whatever.
Someone... Someone was shouting. I was being covered in something warm. About time. I was getting sick of shivering. Now, if they could just stop the pain... Suffocating. Pain. Something on my chest, a weight that I couldn't dislodge.
Help me, dammit! I can't breath!
I'd had a friend in school with severe asthma, watched her go into attacks that had us calling 911. Afterwards, she told me I could never really understand the numbing fear that came with being unable to breath properly, the uncertainty of when or if it would ever stop. I could now.
Hands pushing, prodding, needles, the cold metal of contacts against my head, something being forced down my throat. I felt it all, but I couldn't open my eyes, or even move a finger to let them know I was awake. Well, some of the time. I was fairly certain I was drifting in and out a lot. Its too easy to fall asleep when your eyes are always closed.
Pain brought me back once more as someone carefully re-dressed my much abused left shoulder. There were more tubes now. I could feel them in places that would have made me squirm with embarrassment and demand they be taken out were I able to. Then there was the tube down my throat, leaving me constantly wanting to gag, but thankfully no longer starving for oxygen. The really scary part, though, was that my body didn't seem to be fighting the thing, wanting to breath on its own. If they hadn't found me...
Don't go there, John. This isn't the first close call you've had, especially lately.
With an audible snap, as if someone had flipped a switch, my hearing came back, sharp and clear. The normal sounds of the infirmary surrounded me, strangely reassuring. The beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor, the steady snap-hiss of the ventilator, the rustle of cotton scrubs as nurses worked near my bed, and the gentle Scottish burr of the man in charge of it all saying two words I never wanted to hear.
"He's dying."
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Rodney's POV
"He's dying."
I stared at Carson in utter shock, unable to believe what I'd just heard. Quickly, I darted a glance at Teyla, Ronon, and Elizabeth, all clustered around my infirmary bed, to see similar incomprehension on their features.
"What!"
Elizabeth's quiet question broke the silence that had descended with the Scot's pronouncement. Even the nurses rechecking the growing number of machines around Sheppard's bed had frozen at the unthinkable words.
"He can't be." I whispered, feeling Teyla take my unburned hand, squeezing it in reassurance.
Laying there, my heart sank as I noted my friend's bearing. Carson looked like death warmed over, worse than I was feeling at the moment. His shoulders were hunched, face slack, eyes twin pools of deep, heart wrenching sadness. This wasn't an attitude I'd seen in the usually irrepressible doctor very often, but when I did...
"NO! There has to be something you can do, Carson! Some medicine, Ancient treatment, alien gizmo, something!"
There! Take that! Gloom and Doom McKay is insisting on being optimistic!
Carson's features grew even sadder, if that were possible, and his eyes gleamed with a hint of pity.
"I wish there were, Rodney, but this is the real world, not some bloody unrealistic science fiction show where everything has ta come out right in an hour or less. The truth is that there is only so much modern medicine can do, even with the technological breakthroughs that have come from off-world. All my scans aren't readin' any higher brain functions, and now his autonomic reflexes are shuttin' down, too. That's why he stopped breathin' early this morning. I can keep his body alive on life support, but we have to face the fact that everythin' makin' him 'John Sheppard' is gone."
"But... What about Allie? Can't she touch him? She told him we were coming to get him, she said she did!" I sounded like a petulant six year old who hadn't had his nap yet, but I just didn't give a damn if anyone got offended right now.
Carson's head dropped and Elizabeth looked quickly away, avoiding my eyes.
"Aye. But she never got a response from him, Rodney, an' she canna get one now. Why do you think I waited so long to talk with all o' you? I was hopin' the wee lass could find somethin'...
"Rodney, right now we have to ask ourselves if John would really want to live this way, a vegetable." Elizabeth finally locked gazes with me as she said that, and I saw one tear slide down her cheek.
I stared right back at her, once again wishing I were unable to trust my hearing. "Are you talking about pulling the plug! Just like that? Your damn machines say there's no hope so you just-!"
What the hell is the matter with these people? What happened to never giving up on one of our own? How many times have we seen recoveries that shouldn't have been possible?
"Pull the plug?" Teyla questioned sharply, not familiar with the Earth phrase, though her tone told me she had grasped the essential idea, and was about as taken with it as I was.
Carson heaved another sigh. "Pull the plug means shuttin' off the machines that are keepin' his body alive, love. Lettin' him die because the brain is already dead. Its somethin' no doctor wants to do, but sometimes, well, its kinder."
At those words, Ronon loomed up behind Teyla, a menacing thundercloud ready to let loose. The question was who the lightning was going to hit- me or Carson and Elizabeth.
This could get ugly.
"No warrior would want to live as a useless shell in a bed."
Damn. He's taking their side. But I do have one ace left to play...
"Who is Sheppard's next of kin? Don't they have to be the ones to order him taken off the life support?"
That I knew of, the man didn't have any living family, but he also never discussed his life before coming to Atlantis beyond a few jokes. Not unless it was forced out of him, anyway, as with that whole 'Bryan-Brianna-mad genius intent on torturing him' thing. I didn't even know his parents' names or if he had any siblings.
Uh oh. Elizabeth's mouth had thinned into a tight line, and if she didn't quit shaking my bed with her death grip, she was going to receive a review of my breakfast. I guess she hadn't liked my question.
"As you know, Expedition members were given the option of designating someone on Atlantis as next of kin for just this type of situation so they wouldn't be left there if we couldn't contact Earth. Carson asked me to look up John's before I came down, but he didn't leave any instructions for the person he named, should this happen."
"Which means?" I snapped.
I couldn't help it. Elizabeth was falling back on her diplomatic double-speak to get through the situation and it was driving me nuts. I was crabby, in pain, and had been forced to watch from the next bed over as my best friend's condition slowly deteriorated in the twenty-four hours since he had been found. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Once we located him and delivered his scrawny ass into Carson's capable hands, he should have gotten better. After all, the man had survived being turned into a bug! What was a little hypothermia, exhaustion, and a jolt of electricity compared to having your DNA rearranged? It just wasn't fair.
"It means that tha person on Atlantis who is listed will have ta decide when and if we pull the support. None of us will have a say in the matter unless that person decides we do."
Carson did not sound pleased. Just who had the colonel designated, anyway? As if she had read my mind, Elizabeth answered my unspoken question.
"John asked that it be you, Rodney."
Seemed to be my day for imbecilic staring.
That flippant, annoying, stubborn, too smart for his own good American pain in the ass has done it to me again!
Just when I think I have him all figured out...
It was simply too much for me to deal with right now. Pulling my hand loose from Teyla, I carefully rolled onto my side, hiding my face in my arm.
"Just- Just do what you have to to keep him alive for now, Carson." I mumbled.
A gentle hand on my back began to rub soothing circles.
"Aye. Get some rest, lad. Nothing has to be decided immediately. I've just put some medication in your IV that should ease the pain and help you sleep."
Great. Just great. I felt tears pricking my eyes and threatening to fall. Too bad there wasn't a medication to take away the pain of losing a friend.
TBC...
Author's Note: Don't worry, I don't write death fics. Just have your tissue box handy. I can't seem to help these cliff hangers, lately, either...
