Failure.

Thanks to Kodiak for her beta skills!

Chapter 5.

McKay's pov.

As I leaned over Sheppard, the first thing I saw was blood – everywhere. Grabbing Inari out of Sheppard's embrace, I immediately saw that she was dead. Her once luminous eyes were open, yet dull and vacant, and all that remained was an empty shell. The bastard Ronon had just killed had murdered her. I gently laid her down beside me, and returned to checking Sheppard. My heart hammered as I studied him. He looked like hell, and was bruised, battered and barely managing to stay conscious.

He opened his mouth, and I waited for him to ask about Inari, but looking into his eyes, I could see that he knew she was gone. He let out a choking gasp, and it was then that I realised Sheppard's breathing wasn't sounding too good. It suddenly occurred to me that he could be seriously injured. As I studied his body, I noticed the spreading pool of blood underneath his right side, so I gingerly lifted his t-shirt to see if the blood was Inari's, or if it was coming from a wound in him. My question was quickly answered as I saw the jagged hole in his lower chest.

I screamed for Beckett, as I fumbled to get a field dressing from my vest. Sheppard's breath hitched as I pressed the wad of gauze firmly into his side. His breathing gradually became more laboured, until his eyes fluttered closed, and his chest stopped moving altogether.

"Shit. Beckett! Get over here. He's stopped breathing!" I yelled at the top of my voice.

I found myself being pushed away, and I sat watching, detached from my surroundings, yet morbidly fascinated at the events unfolding around me. I stared as Beckett and a nurse started working on Sheppard.

Carson got out his stethoscope and listened to Sheppard's chest.

"He has a pulse. Rapid and thready," I heard Carson's nurse calmly calling out. "He's hypotensive...eighty over sixty and falling."

"He's not breathing- probable pneumothorax. We need to get a chest tube in, and some fluids started," he informed the nurse.

I watched numbly as Carson expertly inserted the tube into Sheppard's chest, and felt bile rise in the back of my throat as I saw blood squirting from Sheppard, and air hissing, as it escaped along with the blood from his chest. After a few moments, Carson nodded in satisfaction, and I let out a sigh of relief as I heard Sheppard draw in a deep, rattling breath. Carson's cool demeanour in times of crisis amazed me. He had Sheppard's life in his hands – literally, yet Sheppard was his friend. Somehow he always seemed to manage to distance himself and act in a professional and calm way that left me speechless – well, almost.

"Good lad," he soothed, "that's it, Colonel," he continued, as he placed an oxygen mask over the colonel's face, and listened carefully to Sheppard's chest. I saw his eyes opening, and looking up into Carson's face. I could hear the colonel's rasping breaths, but despite the horrible wet sounding noises he was making, I was just relieved that he was continuing to breathe.

Carson's nurse had already started an IV, and as I watched her fiddling with it, I felt myself starting to drift, with events appearing to be played out in hazy, slow motion.

"Dr. McKay?" I turned to see Teyla crouching beside me. "Rodney?" she repeated.

I felt her hand press something into my head, and I looked at my team-mate in surprise, not understanding what she was doing.

"You have a head wound. Put your hand here," she gently ordered me, taking my hand and placing it on my sore head, so I could press the dressing into the wound I hadn't even realised I'd acquired.

"Sheppard?" I numbly asked, hoping she'd know what I meant.

Teyla smiled at me, but I could see the concern in her eyes.

"The Daedalus will transport the colonel to their infirmary shortly. Carson is just stabilising him. He is breathing again, and that is a good sign, I believe," she answered honestly.

I nodded in agreement. Breathing was definitely better than the alternative.

"Inari's dead, isn't she?" I blurted out suddenly. I had seen the look in Sheppard's eyes, seen the little girl's lifeless body, but up till then, I could only think about Sheppard's well being. I found myself seeing Inari's lifeless face as I closed my eyes, and knew her body was lying a few feet away from me. I opened my eyes and looked over to where Inari lay. Somebody had placed a blanket over her, I hadn't seen them doing that, but I knew she was there, all alone.

Teyla looked directly at me, closed her eyes, and nodded her head once.

"Yes. The projectile passed through her back, through her spine, and into Colonel Sheppard. I believe she died instantly, and did not suffer."

"This will kill Sheppard…I mean if he survives this," I added. Sheppard had grown so attached to Inari, and to lose her…like this…well, I knew the man well enough to know he'd blame himself for not saving her, not that he could've done anything to stop what had happened.

I knew he wouldn't see it that way though.

"Rodney? Let's take a look at that head wound." I heard Carson's voice approaching me.

"Sheppard?"

I heard Carson exhale, and looked up to see his worried face hovering above me.

"Not good. He's stable for the moment. I'm just waiting on the Daedalus to beam us up to their infirmary."

I winced as Carson removed my dressing and tutted at what he obviously saw there.

"That'll need several sutures. What happened?" he asked, as he replaced the dressing with a fresh one and taped it in place.

I hadn't even felt my head being injured, let alone known what had happened, so I shrugged.

"No idea. I didn't even realize I was hurt," I answered, a small laugh following my words. Beckett gently grabbed my head, and started his usual neural obs, tutting all the way through his examination of me.

Carson sighed and tapped his earpiece.

"Colonel Caldwell? This is Beckett. I need you to transport myself, Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay to the infirmary immediately."

A few seconds later, I found myself in the cramped Daedalus infirmary. I was ushered to a gurney, and forced to lie down while medical personnel swarmed over Sheppard. I drifted in and out for a while, but was woken by the sound of worried voices, and the unsteady beeping of a heart monitor, and I knew Sheppard wasn't doing so well.

I tried to sit up, but found myself being pushed back down by an overzealous nurse.

"Lie still, Dr. McKay. You have a head injury," she ordered, in a patronising voice.

"I know I have a head injury. Do I look stupid? I want to see what's happening with Sheppard!"

I managed to push myself up and get a glimpse of what was going on a few feet away. I realised Carson was arguing with a man I didn't immediately recognise. As my head started to clear a little, I vaguely remembered the man was the Daedalus' new doctor. I pushed the nurse next to me aside, and began to make my way over towards the small crowd gathered around Sheppard's examination table.

Sheppard was hooked up to all sorts of machines, and was on a ventilator. He looked like hell. Pale, sweaty, and so still. He was unnaturally motionless, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. IV's littered his arms and hands; some bringing clear fluids to his body, one tube snaking into the crook of his arm bearing much needed blood. Watching the steady drip of the blood from the bag into Sheppard, I was reminded how much blood had been spilled in such a short time.

"What's wrong?" I asked loudly, hoping to get Beckett's attention.

Carson raised his eyebrows and scowled at me.

"What are you doing up? You have a head injury Rodney, and the last thing I need is you fainting on me."

As if I was the most seriously injured patient in the infirmary. Why was everybody making such a fuss about a simple knock to my head? They didn't usually bother being so attentive. In fact they couldn't wait to get rid of me most of the time. It's possible that sometimes Carson and his staff believe I'm a bit of a hypochondriac, not that there's any reason for them to think that. There's nothing wrong with being informed about ones own health, while keeping the voodoo shaman's on their toes.

"I'm fine. What's going on?" I asked again, a little more forcefully than before.

Carson exhaled and shook his head. Biting his lip, he looked pointedly at his colleague.

"Nothing. Dr. Stevens and I were having a…difference of opinion."

"About what, exactly? Because I don't know if you've noticed, but, Sheppard doesn't seem to be too well at the moment, and it occurs to me, that maybe you should be looking after him instead of arguing with each other?" Subtlety had never been my strong point.

Stevens' face was a lovely shade of puce, and he shook as he tried to control his anger.

"Beckett wants to put the colonel in a jumper and take him back to Atlantis through the 'gate. He doesn't seem to think we have the facilities here to operate effectively."

Carson wearily ran a hand through his hair.

"No, you don't. The bullet is lodged right next to his spine, and I need the scanners on Atlantis. The last thing the colonel needs is for his spinal cord to be accidentally severed." His eyes found mine, and I knew he was right. He wouldn't risk Sheppard's health. If he thought it was okay to move him, and that his best chance of recovery lay on Atlantis…well, I trusted him, and I knew Sheppard would too.

"Then stop talking and do it. Sheppard would want to go back to Atlantis, whatever that means for him. He trusts you Carson, so do I. You." I pointed at Stevens. "Go away and count bandages or something."

Carson smiled at me, giving me a pained expression at the same time. He turned to his nurse, and exhaled.

"Melissa? Let's get him ready for transport. I'll have Hermiod beam us into Jumper One," he ordered. He then looked back at me. "You can come too, Rodney. The sooner we're back home, the better."

Ten minutes later we were securely on the smaller ship, with Lorne at the controls. A few minutes later, we arrived in the jumper bay, and for the second time that day, the medical personnel swarmed over Sheppard. I found myself being forced onto a gurney, protesting for once, as I didn't want Sheppard to leave my sight.

Being pushed along the corridors of Atlantis must have lulled me to sleep, as the next thing I was aware of, someone was calling my name and flashing a penlight in my eyes.

"Sheppard?" I asked drowsily.

"In surgery. How are you feeling?"

I blinked to clear my eyes and soon recognised Dr. Lambert's serious face studying me.

"Fine. How long have we been back here? How's Sheppard doing? Beckett said the bullet was lodged near his spine…"

Dr. Lambert put his hand on my arm, and smiled gravely at me.

"You've been unconscious for two hours. The Colonel has been in surgery about an hour and a half. He's going to be in there for a while yet. Last time I heard things were a little…hairy in there. Carson's got his work cut out for him, I'm afraid."

I swallowed nervously, and felt a lump starting to form in my throat.

"Is he going to make it?" I asked anxiously. Why did Sheppard keep doing that to me? Keep getting himself injured and nearly dying. His penchant for saving the galaxy and everyone in it was getting old really quickly. Not that I begrudged him trying to save Inari. I think I'd have done the same -- no, I know I would have. She was an innocent child, and my dislike of children aside, I'd never want even the most annoying brat to get hurt.

Lambert grimaced and patted my arm again.

"Let's wait and see. I don't need to tell you how skilled and determined Dr. Beckett is. He'll pull the colonel through, I'm sure."

We were momentarily distracted when a nurse in scrubs ran into the infirmary. She spoke urgently to another nurse and ran back in the direction of the surgical suite.

Lambert sighed, and started to walk towards the nurse, who was doing something on a computer.

"I'll find out what's going on," he called out, as he turned round briefly to look at me.

A few minutes later, though it seemed like hours had passed to me, Lambert returned and explained that Sheppard was haemorrhaging badly, and that they needed more type specific blood. The nurse had been ordered to round up donors, and I knew there'd be a hoard of willing people, both military and scientific personnel, queuing up to give blood to save the man everybody held up as their model hero.

Yes, he was irritating as hell, still is, but they were right; Sheppard was the All-American hero. He was also much more. Stubborn, loyal to a fault, self sacrificing, annoying, smart…and like family to those of us closest to him, not that any of us really knew him that well. He liked to keep his private life, well, private, but I sensed a long time ago that he was a bit like me; a loner with a past that haunted him.

After Lambert had asked me the usual questions, he went on to tell me I'd suffered a concussion, so I had twenty-four hours of being woken every two hours to look forward to. Wonderful. I'd also earned myself five sutures in my head, and that, yes, I'd have a small scar. I smiled when he told me that, because I knew that if Sheppard were there, he'd have nudged me on the arm playfully, and informed me that women love men with scars. I wished more than anything that he was with me then, and not fighting for his life in surgery. I also wished Inari wasn't dead. I knew there was nothing I could do to change that little girl's fate.

-oOo-

Six hours later, and there was still no news. Blood donors had come and gone. Elizabeth had popped in to visit me, explaining that the Daedalus had left Linaria, and that all Atlantis personnel had returned through the 'gate a few hours earlier. She'd spoken to Teyla, who'd filled her in on everything that had happened after we began our rescue.

Meldos was naturally grief stricken at his daughter's death, and very concerned for Sheppard. Many of the outsiders had died in the rescue attempt, those that hadn't would be tried for their crimes. He'd arranged for a memorial type service for Inari to take place in four days, and hoped that Sheppard would be well enough to participate, as he'd fought so hard to save Inari. Meldos wished to honour Sheppard for his loyalty to the little girl.

I knew that if Sheppard survived, he'd do anything to be there -- anything.

I was distracted by noises in the infirmary, and lifting my head, saw a group of people pushing a bed into the room. Sheppard. He was back.

I knew I shouldn't get out of bed, but something compelled me to walk over to see my friend.

As I neared the commotion, I regretted my little journey.

Sheppard looked like death warmed over. Pale, sweaty, on a ventilator, with tubes twisting in and out of his abused body, in places I really didn't want to think about.

"Rodney! For goodness sake go back to bed. You have a concussion, and I know it must be bad, or you'd be complaining very loudly."

I didn't answer Carson, but just stood there in…scrubs? When had I acquired them?

"How is he?" I asked quietly, not sure that I really wanted to know.

Carson approached me, and put his hand on my arm, gently steering me away from Sheppard and back to my own bed.

"He's actually doing incredibly well," he answered in a surprisingly upbeat voice. I must have had a disbelieving expression on my face, as Carson smiled in an understanding way, as he pushed me into bed. "I know he looks bad, but, really, he's come through surgery much better than I'd expected. I know all the machinery looks a bit frightening, but it's supporting him, that's all." He tucked me in, and started to take my pulse. "He'll be on the vent for a day, just to give his chest a chance to heal. I removed the bullet, with the help of the Ancient medical scanners, and fortunately, there's been no damage to his spine or spinal cord." He let go of my wrist and shook his head. "The colonel's been very lucky," he concluded.

I let out a breath I didn't even realise I was holding.

"He's going to be okay?"

Carson nodded and walked away, writing something down on a chart he snagged from nearby.

"Aye. All being well. He's got a lot of healing to do, but, barring complications, he should make a full recovery."

I began to feel sleepy again, and felt my eyes closing.

"Get some rest, Rodney. I'll be waking you in a couple of hours, I'm afraid."

I mumbled a groan at Carson, which earned me a comforting pat on the shoulder. As I headed towards sleep, I thought of Inari. Her death was so pointless. Sheppard had nearly died too, but I knew our problems with him would be just beginning.

Our favourite Lt. Colonel not only had a long physical recovery in front of him, but an epic emotional one too. Not one to share his feelings easily, I knew Inari's death would be like a festering wound; eating away at him, unless he could find a way to accept that sometimes events are beyond our control. Sometimes, it didn't matter what you did or didn't do, shit happened. I could accept that, hard as it was. After all, the universe was chaotic at times, wasn't it? That was the natural order of things. I knew I wasn't Superman though. Sheppard? Well, I think he thought he really was. As I finally succumbed to sleep, my last thought was that I hoped Inari wouldn't become Sheppard's kryptonite.

Tbc.