Of
Duty, Atonement, and Redemption—Chapter Eighteen
By
SGC Gategirl
xxx
For warnings, comments, summary, etc, please see part one.
xxx
Elizabeth Weir waited.
It was something she did quite a lot, but she still hadn't found a way to enjoy it, or to cope with it for that matter. Pacing through the control room, she paused behind Doctor Zelenka who was staring at the screen that displayed the long-range sensors.
The hive ship had paused nearly an hour ago in the exact location Radek said it would, but since then nothing had changed.
It was maddening.
"Anything?" she asked quietly, trying to keep her voice down since she knew everyone in the control room—including Carson who was hunched over a console in the far corner—had been asking the same question of the Czech.
He shook his head slowly, pushing his fingers up under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Nothing. The Wraith could pause there for as long as a day, if not more."
"I know," she said, her arms curling around her torso in a loose hug.
Zelenka scowled toward the screen, his fingers flying across the nearby laptop. "I am however, getting new readings."
"And?"
"Some kind of energy wave…one second," he said, concentrating on his typing while Weir's eyes were drawn to the now fuzzy image on the screen. Elizabeth heard the shuffle of clothing and footfalls against the floor as someone slid beside her. Casting a quick glance over her tense shoulder, she spotted Carson, his expression worried.
"There we have it," Zelenka finally replied a moment later as the screen cleared.
"Radek…" she began, the word trailing off, but Carson picked up right where she left off.
"What happened to the hive ship?"
The alarm of an incoming wormhole pulled their attention away from the monitors, Weir moving instantly to stand at the dialing device, hovering over the Sergeant manning the station.
"We have an incoming wormhole, ma'am," he replied, fingers tapping against the laptop keys. "Colonel Sheppard's IDC."
"Drop the shield," she said, striding to the railing as the shield vanished and the jumper leapt into view. The gate closed as the jumper rose toward the ceiling into the bay above. As she turned, she saw Carson was already halfway up the stairs.
She raced to follow with Zelenka on her heels. She heard the Sergeant's call over the citywide communications system for medics to the jumper bay. She didn't like the sound of that at all.
xxx
As soon as the jumper touched down, John Sheppard released the rear door, finishing the shut down procedure before he turned to rise. Beckett was already inside, probably entering as soon as he could squeeze through the gap, medical bag in hand. He'd stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes drifting over the five bodies littering the rear compartment of the jumper.
Multiple footfalls in the bay indicated the cavalry in the form of several medics bearing stretchers had arrived. The Sergeant had been quick in relaying his request it seemed.
Apparently, hearing the racket behind him, Beckett shook off whatever had stopped him and headed directly for Rodney, his hands latching onto the man even as Teyla continued to pull the membrane from his still and compliant body.
A few flicks of his penlight and several quick hands-on tests later, and Beckett was gesturing for the stretcher, waving off Teyla's attempts to finish what they'd started. "We need to get him to the infirmary now," he said, helping the medics as they lifted McKay onto the gurney.
Seconds after McKay was secured to the gurney, they were gone, running down the corridors to the infirmary, leaving Doctor Biro and the rest of the medical staff who'd reported to deal with the rest of them.
"What happened to Major Lorne and who are all these people?" Weir asked as she rushed up to the jumper, Zelenka, on the other hand, was trailing behind the departed medical team. Sheppard slowly approached her, stepping carefully around the bodies and the medics to stop near the open hatch as Ronon replied from his position just outside the jumper.
"He was hit by a Wraith stunner just before we left. The rest…talk to Sheppard."
John rubbed a hand over his face, feeling Weir's eyes on him. He shrugged. "We found them when we were looking for Rodney. We couldn't just leave them there to blow up with the rest of the ship."
"So you just brought them with you?"
Squinting past his finger he saw her raised eyebrow and strangely apprising expression.
He dropped his hand to his side. "We'd already rescued them and they weren't going to get out on their own…" he began, his muscles tensing immediately even more so than during their now-completed mission.
She held up her hands, warding off his anger and defensiveness. "I'm not arguing with you, John. It just surprised me, is all. I'm not complaining. I think their families will be happy to see them safe and sound."
"If that's all," he said, attempting to step around her when she touched his arm, stopping him mid-step.
"What happened out there?"
He shrugged, feeling the heat and weight of her fingers through the fabric of his shirt and jacket. "We got what we went for and the weapon worked just as well as Radek said it would."
Several medics passed them by, Lorne on a gurney, headed for the door, the young woman they're rescued on another with her own medical escort.
"If you don't mind," he said, drawing Elizabeth's attention away from the wounded and back to his team. "I'd like to report to the infirmary to get checked out and see what the Doc has to say about McKay's condition. We got banged up a bit from the blast."
"Oh," Weir's eyes widened, shifting immediately between the three ambulatory team members. "Of course. I didn't realize…"
"It's okay," he said, taking a step away, her hand sliding from his arm. "Nothing major, but we should get it checked out."
Weir nodded. "Yes. Fine. Debrief in an hour?"
"I'd like to wait until we have more information about our guests," he said already turning away, but knowing she would protest.
"John—"
"Look," he said, turning back. "We went, we got Rodney, blew up the hive, and now we're home safe and sound. Can we save the details for later?"
She looked at him intently, her eyes narrowing, but she finally nodded, taking her own step back from him, her arms moving to fold over her chest. "Tomorrow then. First thing."
"Fair enough," John nodded.
She smiled lightly, lips pressed in a thin line. "Go, John. We'll talk tomorrow."
Even as he nodded again and moved away, Teyla and Ronon flanking him, he knew that something had changed since he was gone. Weir was…quieter, different. He knew the talk tomorrow was not going to be a normal mission debrief.
xxx
Carson Beckett moved quickly, efficiently, yelling orders for supplies and tests. Anne Matthews was at his side, her hands steady and sure as they pulled the membrane away from Rodney's body, exposing skin and clothing—both marked by the organic material.
"I need a pair of scrubs too," Carson called to one of the passing medics who nodded and diverted to the supply closet to retrieve some. He turned toward Matthews, his fingers itching to help, but knowing he'd just get in the way. "It might be easier with scissors," he said finally adding 'and quicker' in his mind.
She shook her head. "I can't feel anything with the scissors. I'm not sure exactly how they got this on him in the first place. I think his arms might be wrapped separately," she said, never pulling her eyes away from her patient. "I'll be done in a minute."
"Aye, I know," he said, yanking out his stethoscope. He pushed the shirt aside so he could press the end against skin, listening intently. Heartbeat was strong. Breath sounds were good. Carson was hoping the unconsciousness was simply a symptom of the culling and stasis. They'd seen some evidence of the effect of the culling beam on humans—and on Rodney specifically—so, hopefully it would wear off within a few hours.
As long as they were dealing with the same thing. The brain scan and blood tests would give them a definitive answer.
And thankfully, there were no feeding marks. He sighed, relief cascading over him, helping to ease some of the tension in his body.
Anne finally pulled one of Rodney's arms free and Carson moved in quickly, slitting the sleeve of the jacket and shirt and adding a blood pressure cuff.
Nodding to himself, he jotted down the numbers on McKay's chart—a little high, but nothing out-of-the-ordinary—before pulling the cuff off with a loud tear of the Velcro. Pulling an IV catheter from the supplies on the table, he inserted it easily into a vein in the crook of Rodney's arm, collecting several vials of blood with a syringe before connecting the tubing. A drop of blood on the glucometer showed Rodney's glucose levels lower than they should be. A bag of dextrose and saline was hung to replace the lost fluids and depleted glucose.
Anne had managed to free Rodney's other hand, laying it down gently beside him as she moved down his body, continuing to work as Carson added the sticky pads to Rodney's head where the leads would attach once they had him in place and in scrubs—which had been placed beside the bed on the chair several minutes ago.
A swift cut with the scissors and Rodney's shirt was gone. Anne paused long enough to help Carson wrestle the scrub top onto the scientist's unconscious body. Pads for the heart monitor followed next.
As he was finishing up, Anne finally completed her task, sadness and compassion on her face. A few seconds later, Rodney was ready to be moved into the critical care area.
"Ready?" he asked, catching his head nurse's eyes. She nodded, grabbing hold of the end of the gurney and moving on Carson's command into the adjoining room, the transfer to the next bed done quickly and easily.
The wires went on next; Anne finishing the connections, making sure Rodney was hooked into all manner of equipment.
It had all taken less than ten minutes, but now all they could do was wait—for the tests to come back and for Rodney to finally join the land of the conscious.
xxx
Carson finally appeared in the main infirmary about an hour after John Sheppard saw him last. He looked drawn, haggard, but his lips were pulled in a hesitant smile as he approached the waiting area.
"Doc?" John asked, rising to his feet, the movement quickly followed by Teyla, Ronon, Zelenka, and Elizabeth.
"Major Lorne is unconscious. From past experience with the Wraith stunners, the paralysis he'll experience upon waking should wear in about another hour or so and I'll be able to release him."
"And Rodney?" Weir asked, taking a step closer.
Beckett sighed, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "It's a tad bit early to tell. He's dehydrated and his blood sugar was low, so we're correcting those now. His weight's down too, but that might have more to do with situations prior to his culling. It doesn't look like he was fed upon at all."
The doctor paused, taking another deep breath. "I'm not sure how Wraith stasis chambers work, so it's hard to saw how long he'll remain unconscious. His brain functions seem to be fine and I'm still waiting on his blood test results. All in all, he's in okay shape for someone culled. I should know more later."
"And the rest of our guests?" she asked. He'd already forgotten about them, focused as he was on Lorne and McKay.
"Still unconscious, aye, which makes me worry a tad bit less about Rodney since they're all in a similar state. As soon as I know more I'll let you know."
"Can we see them?" Sheppard asked, generalizing, but in reality he only wanted to check on the scientist. He had to know Rodney was going to be all right. He moved forward several steps.
"There's not much to see, Colonel," Beckett replied, shaking his head, but he relented. "I can let one of you in for five minutes, but that's it. It looks like you all could use some sleep."
"We probably could, Carson," Elizabeth said, a tight smile on her face, already turning toward the door. "You'll give me an update as soon as you know more?"
"Aye, lass, that I will."
She nodded and moved off. Teyla and Ronon settled back down in the chairs set aside, leaving Sheppard the only one standing. "I'd like to see them."
Nearly a full minute passed before the doctor nodded. "Follow me."
Keeping his hands in his pockets, Sheppard trailed behind Carson, pausing by Lorne's bed first, long enough to see he was looking good—for someone shot by a Wraith stunner that is. He patted Lorne's leg, telling him to get better even though the man probably couldn't hear him. Their guests were next, lying still and quiet in the critical care unit, the three beds alongside each other.
Beckett moved farther down the ward, yanking back the privacy curtains around the far bed. McKay was hooked up to far more equipment than anyone else, which made Sheppard uneasy, but it also made him feel better. Carson would make sure he was all right, checking on him every step of the way.
"I'll be back in five minutes, Colonel," he said quietly, before his nearly silent footfalls faded away.
John stood awkwardly, staring at McKay, taking in his pale and drawn features, the multitude of wires and tubes and all of the heavy equipment set up alongside the bed.
Pulling the chair closer, John settled down, his hand resting lightly on McKay's forearm, careful not to touch anything else.
"I know you probably can't hear me," he began, the words barely audible. "But I wanted to tell you I was sorry for being an asshole. I didn't like how I felt, that you'd manipulated things…events…me…to get your way. I was angry at that…at you for that." John paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't think I've ever stopped trusting you, McKay, but sometimes you do some of the stupidest things—for a genius. Get better and then we'll have a real talk. Okay?"
John patted the scientist's arm, but didn't move, waiting until Carson returned before he rose, casting one last glance over his shoulder as he was escorted from the critical care unit and placed in the hands of his team.
At least, healing had begun.
xxx
Major Lorne blinked open his eyes, groaning as the bright light of the infirmary drilled a hole into his already tender skull.
A fuzzy face swam into view a moment later.
"There ye are, Major," came the comment laced with a thick Scottish accent, which meant it could only be one person. "We were wondering when you were going to join us again."
Lorne went to roll his head to the side to get a better view, but for some reason his neck was refusing to move. Panic began to settle in. Brief commands to move his arms, legs, toes, and fingers also went unanswered.
Apparently, Beckett could see something in his eyes—or maybe it was the whimper that escaped from his throat instead of the scream he wanted to emit—and Becektt reached out, his hand landing on one of his unmoving limbs. "Relax. It's just the effects of the Wraith stunner blast. It'll wear off shortly. So," he said, as the head of the bed rose a bit and Lorne could see more of the main ward of the infirmary, "close your eyes and relax. We'll take good care of you."
Carson's hand vanished and he moved a few steps away. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the doctor had paused, writing notes on the chart in his hands.
But what happened? He wanted to scream, to shout. After getting hit he didn't remember a thing. How did he even manage to get home? Was the hive destroyed? Did they actually bring McKay home? Was he okay?
Frustration welled up from inside and with no outlet for his questions he felt trapped, hemmed in, a pressure building up in his chest until he swore it would burst.
Something must have changed—had he whimpered again? Moaned?—because Beckett was back a moment later, his warm hand resting against his cheek as he turned his head to the side so Lorne could look directly into the doctor's tired blue eyes.
"Lad, Thomas, calm down. Everyone's fine. You're fine."
Lorne wanted to believe, needed to believe, but it was hard. He didn't like this feeling, of being completely out of control, relying on someone else entirely.
"If you don't calm down, I'm going to have to give you something. I'd rather have you awake and alert so I can monitor your progress, but I'll sedate you if I have to," Beckett warned, his voice kind, warm. "I canna have you giving yourself a heart attack after everything."
I don't care about me, is what he wanted to scream, and instinctively Beckett seemed to know that as he pulled up a nearby chair settling down in it.
"Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, and Ronon are fine. They had their checks and I sent them on their way," he began, his voice tired, his hands clasped together, holding the chart pressed into his lap. "They're supposed to be sleeping, but the last I checked the Colonel was hovering near the infirmary doors. He backed off when I gave him the evil eye, but I'm sure that will only hold him at bay for a short time. I have the urge to sedate his arse just to get him to rest."
Beckett chuckled to himself, shaking his head, apparently remembering something that gave him reason to be amused. For some strange reason, that simple sound helped to put him more at ease than all the reassurances the doctor had uttered. Maybe it was the fact it was so carefree, it proved things were okay.
"The…guests you brought back are doing well enough, I suppose. They're all still unconscious, but from what I can tell they seem to be in good health, relatively speaking. It's hard to know for sure since I'm not completely certain of what is normal for them. As soon as they wake I'm sure Elizabeth will have questions for them before we send them home." He paused, offering a weary smile. "We're sure to have some happy families when this is all finished. Perhaps even a new alliance, some new friends. I think that will be good. We need all the friends we can get…that will have us."
The doctor fell silent again, lost momentarily in his own thoughts. Lorne needed to hear the rest, to know what else was going on, what happened to the man Beckett had left for last. He wanted to reach out and draw the other man's attention back to the present, but all he could offer was the barest twitch of his left pinky. That was something at least. Although, if the doctor told him he should be proud of that accomplishment because he had been mostly dead all day, then he was going to jump off the nearest balcony the first chance he got.
Beckett took another breath, shaking himself as he turned back to Lorne. "I have Rodney in the critical care unit, along with our other guests, just to monitor their conditions a little closer. He was dehydrated and his blood sugar levels were low. He's unconscious, still, and from what I know of the circumstances around his culling, will probably suffer the same paralysis you're enjoying right now once he's finally conscious."
He sighed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "His bloodwork came back clean of foreign bodies, but I'm not happy with some of the levels I'm seeing, so we're trying to set that right while he's quiet. Easier that way. He can't argue with the treatment at least or complain he's being treated by a medical staff comprised of vampires and sheep shearers."
A shuffle of fabric just outside of his range of vision caused Beckett to turn and nod. "I'll be along in a minute, Anne. Thanks. You might want to let Elizabeth know." Carson swiveled back to Lorne. "It seems one of our guests is awake, so I have to take my leave for a few moments. If I catch the Colonel hovering in my infirmary, I'll send him over."
Beckett rose, pushing the chair back into its corner, his movements precise as his words continued, a tad quieter than before. "I have every reason to believe Rodney will be fine, but I'm worried about him, about how he's going to react. He's going to need a lot of help to get him through this."
Straightening up and turning to face the bed again, Beckett patted Lorne's arm and offered a smile. "This should wear off quickly, so be patient. I'll have one of my nurses pop in to check on you every few minutes, make sure you're okay."
Lorne watched Beckett leave, tucking his chart under his arm as he walked quietly toward the critical care ward of the infirmary, only a short distance down the hallway from where he lay.
He could hear the light tones of conversations floating in the air, more murmurs than actual words, but it helped him drift, hovering somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. He felt more than saw or heard the nurses stopping by. Once when he opened his eye, Anne stepped in, making sure he didn't need anything. He was able to shake his head slightly, letting her know that he was fine.
At least this was all temporary, he thought. Death was a whole lot more permanent.
xxx
Rushing into the briefing room, her PDA in hand, Elizabeth Weir offered a hesitant smile to the assembled members of the rescue mission along with Carson Beckett. "Sorry I'm late," she said, sliding into her chair. "I was in the middle of a debate with some of the science staff and the possibility of opening up several hydroponics labs."
"Hydroponics?" Carson asked, swiveling slightly in his chair. "I thought Rodney was working with them on that project."
"That's the problem. It seems he hasn't given his full approval of the project, but they want to move on and get the space allocated, claiming they can't miss the next growing cycle." She paused, laying her hands on the tabletop, her fingers spread wide. "But you're not here to talk about hydroponics. Colonel, do you want to start?"
"The mission was a success," Sheppard replied blandly, nearly sprawled in his chair. "The weapon worked exactly as Doctor Zelenka said it would. If we could get ourselves several more of them we'd have an offensive weapon we can write home about."
"But I thought this was a one-time-only deal."
"According to what Doctor Z found in the database, the one we used was the last one the Ancients created," Lorne said, still a little pale, but on his feet after an overnight stay in the infirmary. "But, according to McKay's notes, we might be able to reverse engineer one. It seems he took it completely apart and wrote notes on every screw used. The nano-virus is the real stumbling block."
"Aye," Beckett added. "From what I had the opportunity to study, the technology the Ancients used is several leaps beyond our current science. It could take years to develop anything we could use."
Weir nodded. She'd guessed as much, but she still had to ask. "Was the hive able to get off any kind of message before it was destroyed?"
"Doubtful," Sheppard replied. "I don't think they knew what hit them. From the initial detonation to the explosion of the hive, I'd say it was less than five minutes. Even if they did get a message out, it was probably along the SOS variety. I'll have Zelenka monitor the sensors to see if we get any other visitors."
"Very well," she said, nodding as she made several notes on her PDA. "Carson, how are our guests?"
"They're doing much better this morning. I've been able to get a little information from them about where they're from and that's been uploaded to the server for you to take a look at. You might be surprised to find out that one of the gentlemen was a resident of 218."
"Soony's planet?" Teyla asked, surprise on her face.
"Aye, one in the same."
"When do you think they'll be ready for a short meeting before we arrange to send them home?"
"Telem should be on his feet later today," Beckett said. "The rest, probably in another day."
"And Rodney?"
He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. "Still unconscious, but we've managed to get all his levels straightened out. He seems fine, but I won't know more until he's conscious. I was hoping his condition would have changed earlier this morning."
"He is okay, right, doc?" Lorne asked, concern clearly evident on his face.
"As far as I can tell, he's fine. All the tests I've done so far look good. But you know Rodney. He doesn't always do what you expect."
Elizabeth held back a chuckle. Wasn't that the truth. "Very well, Carson. Please keep me updated." She paused, her eyes focused on the PDA in her hand as she tried to find the words to say what she was thinking. When they came, they were slow, hesitant. "I wanted to thank all of you for doing what you did to get him back. I was honestly doubtful there would be something to bring home, but I'm glad you proved me wrong. If there's nothing else…" She glanced around the room, her eyes connecting briefly with everyone.
"Dismissed."
xxx
TBC
