Aftermath

By Ann3

Writer's Note: I must admit that this chapter went through quite a few re-writes. I mean, there's only so much whumpage that a poor little doctor can take ! In the end, I thought I'd share the angst round a bit, for Elizabeth especially, as she faces the consequences of her actions in 'Michael' which really set the events of 'Misbegotten' into play.

I hope you enjoy - and thanks so much for the reviews, they've been much appreciated !

Chapter Thirteen

The Darkest Hour

'We'll find him, Laura… we will find him… and when we do, I'll be right there behind you…'

He'd made her that promise, just minutes ago, to ensure heartfelt justice for the brutalised soul beside them. John Sheppard had promised Laura Cadman vengeance for her precious Carson's horrific suffering. Whether as a human, or Wraith, and however long it took, Michael would pay for what he'd done.

His days were numbered. The whole of an enraged Atlantis would see to that. Michael would pay.

At the moment, though, in Carson Beckett's tortured mind, their latest enemy still held all the aces. He'd stolen Carson's body, cruelly shackling it into complete helplessness. Then he'd done the same to his mind.

He'd even stolen that unique, wonderfully vibrant accent, replacing it with a flat, clinically emotionless tone – yet another sickening reminder of how complete, and brutal, his possession of Carson's mind had been

That same brutalised voice now confirmed the suspicions which John Sheppard had already held. The reason why his secondary plan to destroy the Wraith camp had failed, now sickeningly explained.

"Th – Th're's a bomb… 'n – 'n the f'rest… if th'res 'ny sign o' trouble from ye, 't – it'll be d'tonated…"

Nuclear weapons. A horrific means of annihilation, feared and abhorred by humanity – yet one now condoned in five softly growled words

"Nuke's too good for him…"

Elizabeth Weir might have rebuked him for those words. Chastised Ronon for his savage, uncivilised beliefs. Yet as she stared down at her CMO's haggard, suffering face, she couldn't bring herself to do so – especially when several heads around her nodded, as one, in silently heartfelt agreement.

Instead she kept a well honed, diplomatic silence while still gently brushing back Carson's hair. He'd be totally unaware of this soothing comfort, of course, but… damn it, she had to do something.

A guilt which had been silently borne several months before now returned with unrelenting vengeance. Subjecting Michael to the retrovirus tests, a breakthrough against the Wraith which he'd reluctantly agreed to, had been one thing. But lying to his patient, betraying his trust for so long, had gone against everything Carson Beckett believed in.

And when Michael had discovered the truth, the complete horror she'd seen on her CMO's face – well, the realisation of what she'd persuaded him to do would haunt Elizabeth Weir's conscience for a long time yet.

In a dangerous world full of cruel ironies, this one before her now had to be the cruellest one yet.

Carson Beckett had borne his share of betraying Michael's trust, but borne its repercussions alone. As a trapped, helpless prisoner, the one person who'd tried to stop that betrayal had suffered the horror of its consequences – brutal horrors that continued to torment him as Carson screamed once more in subconscious agony.

"N – No, I – I don' know 'ny more… I – I don'… no, please, don't… no, stop, please… nooooo…!"

And so began another sickening round in this battle for Carson Beckett's subconsciously captive mind. Another test of John Sheppard's strength as he struggled to restrain a body consumed by pure terror – his own exhaustion finally claiming victory as, still sobbing, Carson surrendered to its mercy.

Yet even when he quietened, slumping limply sideways, John Sheppard refused to let him go. If anything, his own revisiting demons compelled him to hold his friend protectively tighter – willing those demons out of his mind, while two shaken doctors rushed into a now familiar routine.

For the last twenty minutes, the monitors at Carson's bedside had been having a contest of their own – each trying to outdo the other as his heart-rate, BP and delta wave readings almost shot off the scale.

It took several more for Carson's own, physical exhaustion to bring that contest to a thankful end. Finally, though, he lay calm and still again, lost once more in his nightmare world of terror and pain.

In equally painful reality, John Sheppard now closed his eyes against fresh tears of bitter fury – tears that he couldn't allow the others, those who were depending so heavily on his strength, to see.

The truth still reached him, though, as this darkest hour in Carson Beckett's life ruthlessly continued. The first half of it had passed in screams of pure agony. The second half would pass just as brutally.

From her seat at Carson's other side, Elizabeth Weir closed her eyes too, bowing her head in silent, helpless apology for her CMO's continuing nightmare.

'I'm sorry, Carson... I am so, so sorry...'

Could he ever forgive her for this...? Could she ever forgive herself...?