The Gift of Life - Chapter 2

Carson was lost in his own thoughts for several minutes. He was trying to imagine John Sheppard having a conversation with a Wraith and forming an alliance with the creature in order to escape. An alliance with the same being who had tortured and weakened him by feeding on him three times. It was mind-boggling. If it had been a movie, he would have scoffed at how unbelievable it was. Apparently truth really was stranger than fiction. He was suddenly aware that the sounds of shifting movement had become more intense in the last few moments and glanced at Sheppard just as he sat up in bed.

"Colonel, what are you doing?" Beckett moved in closer to put a restraining hand on his patient's shoulder. The colonel had a bit of a wild look in his eyes, like he was considering bolting from the infirmary. His increased breathing and heart rate were getting Carson concerned.

"I have to get out of here," Sheppard said, his voice echoing with barely restrained panic as he began pulling at the covers.

"No, colonel, I need you to stay here. What's the problem, lad?"

The concern in the doctor's voice seemed to get through the thought-muddling fog that had taken up residence in John's head. "Walls are closing in . . . it's dark and confining, like the cell. I just need to go outside for a while . . . maybe til it's light again. I can't stay here."

Carson wasn't sure he'd ever really heard pleading in Sheppard's voice, but it was there now. His patient's expression looked like a cross between fear and pain, and his hand kept nervously pulling at the blankets. Carson figured Sheppard was on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

"Just stay put, colonel, and let me get a wheelchair and get you unhooked from the monitor. I'll take you out on the balcony for a bit." They'd be close to the infirmary if anything happened and Carson would be with him. He knew beyond a doubt that Sheppard needed this and, while he couldn't help the man when Kolya had him, he could help him now.

Fifteen minutes later, Beckett wheeled Sheppard, wrapped in a blanket, onto the nearest balcony. He parked the wheelchair in front of a bench that had been set up because of the area's frequent use and sat down beside it. The two men sat looking at the full moon and night sky of bright stars for several minutes without speaking. Beckett could see Sheppard's shoulders beginning to relax and his breathing slow as they sat in the cool night air.

"Thanks, Doc," John said softly. "I just . . . I had to get out of there."

"It's okay, colonel. I'm glad I could actually help you this time."

John looked over to Beckett's face and recognized the guilt that was there. "Doc, you did what you could do. You never gave up on me and that's what's important. Let it go."

Beckett nodded reluctantly. "I know, but I can't help worrying about it, wondering if there was some way we could have reached you sooner." He rubbed his face, the lack of sleep finally beginning to catch up with him. "I'm not sure how I'll ever be able to get that image out of my head, or the pain of knowing we couldn't get to you to help you. I thought . . . I thought we'd lost you this time, colonel." He brought his head up to meet Sheppard's eyes.

"I did too for a while." Sheppard looked back out to the ocean, making a snap decision that he owed this man the truth. He hadn't intended to ever tell any of them about the fourth feeding in the woods. He figured they'd seen enough to fuel their nightmares without him piling on more. But Beckett had been honest with him and he knew the doctor would consider this important, so he swallowed his natural urge to keep silent and forged ahead. "Doc, there's something I should probably tell you."

Beckett was on edge immediately, sensing from Sheppard's tone that he wasn't going to be pleased. "What is it?" He didn't want to say too much and spook the usually tight-lipped colonel.

John continued to look out at the waves rolling in. "After the Wraith and I escaped, we spent the night in the woods." He chuckled, a small humorless laugh. "Turns out neither one of us had a clue which way the gate was. The Wraith had been shot several times and was weak, unable to heal himself, and . . . I was just old and tired." His voice cracked a little as he spoke of his own weakness. "The Genii caught up to us the next morning and neither of us were in any shape to fight, so he . . . fed off me one more time."

Carson gasped, staring at the Colonel's features, pale and mask-like in the moonlight. A brief grimace was quickly replaced with a neutral expression as he continued.

"I knew I was dead, but at least it wasn't in Kolya's hands. But he stopped . . . just before finishing me. He used the strength he gained to fight off the soldiers and then he came back, I assumed to finish me off. He just told me there was a lot I didn't know about the Wraith, and then he . . . " John paused, bringing his hand up to cover the now healed feeding mark. "He restored me." John shuddered visibly in the dim light of the night time sky.

Carson had finally managed to tuck his racing heart back into his chest. "If you don't want to answer this, I understand, but I have to ask. How did it feel? Did you realize what he was doing?"

John closed his eyes and for a moment, Carson wished he could take the question back. He opened his mouth to do just that, when Sheppard answered. "It hurt almost as bad as the feeding. I thought that was what he was doing, until I finally realized I was starting to feel stronger instead of weaker." John shivered, pulling the blanket around him more tightly. "Then Ronon pulled him off me and you know the rest." Sheppard finally opened his eyes and glanced over at Beckett. "I don't know if it matters, but I thought maybe you should know."

Beckett nodded. "I'm glad you told me. I don't know if it will matter either, but I need to know everything in case it does. Are you getting cold?"

"No, I'm fine. I want to stay a little longer. I need to be out here, in the open." John was beginning to understand the Wraith's appreciation for the night sky after their escape. He couldn't even begin to imagine being held prisoner there for years on end.

Beckett didn't really like it, but he thought he understood to a degree. "All right, but let me know if you get cold or feel poorly."

Sheppard relaxed back into the chair. "Okay. Thanks, Doc." Leaning his head back against the pillow stuffed behind his shoulders, he stared at the reflection of the moonlight on the rolling waves below and thought about how glad he was to be alive.

oOo

Elizabeth pulled up to lean on her elbow as she punched her pillow with the other hand. Lying back down, she twisted and squirmed, wrapping the blanket around her legs until her movement was restricted. She sighed heavily, staring at the ceiling for several minutes before giving up. Twisting around once again, she looked at the clock. It was only five, but she knew she wasn't going back to sleep any time soon. She relaxed back into the bed, pulling the blanket up around her and thinking about their celebration last night.

Celebration was a bit of a misnomer. While they were all genuinely glad to have John back, none of them could get past the images of him being fed on by the Wraith or the resulting effects on his body. So they attempted to make light and toast his return with hollow expressions of barely repressed shock. She had no doubt that Kate's appointment book would be full for the upcoming future. Even some of the control room personnel had seemed shell shocked after watching Sheppard tortured.

Elizabeth figured she'd make an appointment right after checking on her second in command. She was pretty sure she hadn't slept more than a couple of hours. Every time she had finally made her heart slow enough that she could drift off, she awoke in the throes of a nightmare, reliving John's torture again and again. Then you are effectively ending his life. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he was going through and that thought made her shudder.

"Can't lay here any more," she said out loud as she threw the covers back and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She'd get dressed and head to the mess for some coffee and then hit the infirmary. Happy to have a plan, she stood and headed for the shower.

By six, Elizabeth had two steaming cups of coffee and was heading for the infirmary. As long as she was disturbing Carson at this early hour, she figured she could bring him coffee. She stopped and backed up a step, leaning over to peer out onto the balcony just down the hall from her destination. "Well, I'll be." Carson sat slumped over on the bench, apparently sleeping in the gray early morning light. A figure wrapped in a blanked sat in a wheelchair beside him, but the dark spiked hair could only belong to one person. Smiling, she opened the door and walked through.

Elizabeth stood watching Carson sleep for several seconds. He looked exhausted, lines around his eyes more pronounced than usual along with the dark shadows under his closed eyes.

"You're up early," a familiar voice said softly from the wheelchair. Smiling, she set Carson's coffee down on the bench beside him before moving around so she could see John. Dark eyes glanced up at her, eyes darker than she remembered them ever being.

"What are you two doing out here at dawn? And how on Earth did you get Carson to willingly bring you?" She couldn't help but notice how tired and pale he was. Undoubtedly he hadn't slept much either, which was no surprise.

"I just needed to get out of there for a while. Walls closing in and all." John shifted his gaze from the water up to Elizabeth. "I'm glad you're here. There's something I need to tell you."

Elizabeth perched on the edge of the bench opposite Carson so she'd be closer to eye level with John. She frowned at the concern she saw in his face. "What is it?"

"You did the right thing and I don't want you to ever doubt that. I didn't want you to give in to Kolya, no matter what he did. You can't give in to men like him . . . ever."

Elizabeth sighed and looked down into her coffee. "Thanks. I knew that was what you wanted, but . . . that was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I just kept thinking I could end it for you and get you back home if I'd just give him Ladon."

One hand snaked out from under the blanket to grip Elizabeth's and she was startled at how cold it was, in spite of it coming from under the covers. She looked up to find him looking at her intently, his focused gaze boring into her. "You did the right thing. If you had made the trade . . . I don't think I could have ever forgiven you."

Elizabeth let out a long, shuddering breath. "I know," she whispered. "I was pretty sure that was how strongly you'd feel about it. I think that was what gave me the strength to keep telling Kolya no."

John squeezed her hand. "No guilt. You did what needed to be done and everything worked out fine. I'm here and I'm . . . not old." He turned his face back out to the ocean as a distant expression took over. "I wish I could take away what you saw."

"It's all right. It's going to take some time, for all of us I think, but we'll get past this. I'm just glad we have you back." She smiled as she gripped his hand. "Exactly when are you going to stop scaring me to death, John Sheppard?"

"I'm working on it," he said sheepishly.

"Well, you need to work harder, lad," said Carson as he sat up straighter and rubbed his eyes. He blinked heavily in the early morning light and looked over at John. "You should have woke me up. We need to get you back to the infirmary."

"I didn't want to wake you; I needed to be out here."

Carson looked at his patient and then slowly nodded. "All right, then. But we still need to get back inside." He stood up and put his hands on the wheelchair handles, looking down as he noticed the cup of coffee. "Elizabeth, you forgot your coffee."

Elizabeth held her cup up for him to see. "Actually, I brought that to you as a peace offering for coming in so early. I'll carry it to the infirmary for you."

Carson nodded in appreciation. "Nice bribe. Don't suppose it's still hot?"

Elizabeth frowned as she picked up the cup. "Lukewarm?"

Carson sighed as he began pushing Sheppard forward. "Well, I suppose it's the thought that counts."

They were back in the infirmary just a few minutes later. Carson parked the chair beside Sheppard's bed. "Let me help you get moved," he offered, taking the pilot by the arm. Sheppard let the doctor help him to his feet, where he hunched over a bit and swayed.

"Colonel?" Carson moved in closer, sliding his arm around the man's waist. "Colonel, are you all right?"

John's hand had moved to his chest and he had gone even paler as Beckett tried to move him over to the bed. By the time the doctor helped him sit on the edge of the bed, he seemed to have caught his breath and a little color was coming back into his cheeks.

"Colonel, how are you doing?"

"I'm . . . okay," he said softly, looking exhausted from the effort. A nurse came up and began helping Beckett get Sheppard settled back in the bed. When they finished, he lay with his eyes tightly closed for a few seconds.

Beckett finished taking Sheppard's pulse and eased his arm down to the bed. "Colonel, I need you to talk to me. What's going on? Do you feel worse than you did earlier?"

Sheppard looked up at Beckett through squinted eyes. "Kind of hurts now, Doc, like something's wrong."

Carson frowned even more. "What hurts?"

John sighed. "Most everything . . . it's gone from a tired ache to a painful one, like I've got the flu and been beaten up, all at the same time."

Beckett looked up at the nurse still standing on the other side of the bed. "I want a new round of blood tests and then let's run another scan." The nurse nodded and left to carry out the instructions.

"Carson, what's going on?" asked Elizabeth, beginning to worry.

Carson turned to face her. "I'm not sure. It's probably just the stress and strain of so many feedings coupled with exhaustion and a lack of food and water. We're going to check it out, though. I need you to go about your day for a bit while we get this sorted out and I'll call you later."

Elizabeth arched one eyebrow. "Are you throwing me out?"

"How perceptive of you. Now get along and let me get to work."

She looked down at John, now lying on his side and shuffling uncomfortably under the covers. "I'll be back to check on you later, John. Just do what Carson says and he'll have you back on your feet in no time."

"'Kay," John groaned out as he pulled his knees up closer to his chest.

Elizabeth glanced at Carson one more time and he took her by the shoulders, spun her around, and gave her a gentle push toward the door. She couldn't help the sinking feeling she had as she walked through the doors to the infirmary.

oOo

Weird sounds and weird sensations. Weird, yet vaguely familiar. Not to mention uncomfortable. John allowed his eyes to open a slit, adjusting to the light before he went any farther. When had he fallen asleep? He remembered the nurse taking more blood and then Carson running another scan. He must have dozed off after that because the last thing he could recall was staring at the ceiling and wishing he didn't feel like his insides were crushing in on themselves.

"Colonel, I'll get Dr. Beckett." John saw the nurse about the time she hurried away across the infirmary. His mind seemed to operating in a fog and it took him a few seconds to realize that she must have been sitting in the chair beside the bed, keeping watch over him.

He brought his hand up to rub his face and saw the IV about the same time he felt the pull on the back of his hand. Looking around, he took inventory and decided just about every monitor known to modern man was now attached to him. Heart monitor, blood pressure cuff, and the little finger clip that Beckett had explained to him on numerous occasions. IV and . . . was that a transfusion? Why were they giving him blood? He tried to sit up and check for some injury he wasn't aware of, but the pull of the all the monitors and tubes forced him back. Oh good, and a catheter. Exactly how long had he been asleep? It didn't feel like that long.

John could hear the sounds of the monitor speeding up to match the firm thumping he felt in his chest. He was really starting to worry and he wished Carson would hurry up and come explain just what the heck was going on. Aware of his increased rate of breathing, he tried unsuccessfully to slow it down. It was almost like he couldn't suck in enough air and it was making him feel lightheaded.

Carson appeared a few seconds later, his expression not exactly making Sheppard feel any more at ease. "Colonel, I'm glad you're awake. Try to relax a bit, breath slow and deep for me. Let me have a look at you and then we need to talk."

John returned the doctor's unhappy look as he made the effort to control his breathing. "I'm not going to like this talk, am I?"

Carson went about putting the earpieces of the stethoscope in place and positioning the end so he could listen to his patient's heart.

"How long have I been out of it for you to have all this equipment hooked up?" John asked impatiently.

"Shh, in a minute." Carson pressed the instrument firmly to Sheppard's chest to make his point.

Suddenly there was a momentary stutter in his chest accompanied by a pressure, like someone pushing on him. He wasn't sure if it felt like his heart double-timed it for a few seconds or skipped a few beats or both. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable and scary. It passed almost before he could register what it was and left a cold fear in its wake. He knew that had never happened before.

"Doc?" John was a little dismayed at how scared and childlike his voice sounded. "What was that?"

Beckett continued to listen for a few more seconds, but the event did not repeat itself. When he straightened and removed the stethoscope from his ears, Sheppard noticed that, although the doctor did look worried, he didn't look surprised.

"That was one of the valves in your heart not closing properly. That's one of the reasons I need to talk to you."

"One of the reasons? If you're trying to scare me Doc, it's working." Okay, John, get a grip. He kept reminding himself that he'd just stoically survived being fed on by a Wraith multiple times and now, when he was safe in Atlantis, was not the time to panic. Of course, how safe were you if your heart wasn't working properly and that was just one of your problems? He was beginning to get the feeling he was royally screwed.

Beckett pulled a chair over and sat down, an act that didn't calm the colonel at all. "I've been looking over your test results and there are some problems."

John held up his hand. "Okay, what about all this gift of life stuff? I thought I was okay, you know, restored back to my former health and all that."

Carson sighed. "As I told you earlier, the repeated feedings and even the gift of life, as you call it –"

"Hey, his words, not mine."

Carson nodded. "Well, anyway, all of that took a heavy toll on your body. Each and every time was a major shock to your system. If he had just fed once and then restored you, I suspect you'd feel a bit poorly for a day or two and then bounce right back. But he fed four times and drained you to almost no life at all. I believe the repeated shocks are what's got your body on overload right now. Colonel, there's no easy way to say this, but you're showing early signs of multiple organ dysfunction syndrome. The catheter is to monitor urine output, which is down from normal. You're hyperglycemic and your breathing is off, making you hypocapnic."

"Whoa, slow down, Doc. I have no idea what you're talking about. Keep it simple for me."

Beckett let a small smile creep across his face. "Sorry, colonel. Your blood sugar is too high and the carbon dioxide levels in your blood are too low, which is throwing off the pH. It's mild at the present, but I'm anticipating it could get worse and that can cause even more problems. Liver functions are down as well and you're anemic, which is the reason for the transfusion. Your red blood count was dangerously low. I've been seeing a slight, periodic arrhythmia in your heart and now your mitral valve occasionally doesn't close properly."

Sheppard took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly. "So, what does all this mean, because it's not sounding too good from where I'm sitting."

Beckett's grim expression didn't change as he held eye contact with the colonel. "I'm not sure. My hope is that if we support your body as much as possible, that time and rest will give your body a chance to recover from the shock and heal. We're already giving you chemical support for some of the imbalances that have begun to present themselves, hence the IV."

Sheppard stared intensely at the doctor, asking what he didn't want to know the answer to. "And if that's not enough?"

Beckett finally lost his resolve, letting his gaze drop to the floor. "There's nothing else we can do at this point. If it's not enough . . . "

"How long?" asked Sheppard. After several moments of unanswered silence, Sheppard prodded the doctor again. "If the support thing doesn't work, how long will I have?"

"Hard to say," the doctor said quietly, his soft voice cracking just a little. "Depending on how fast the deterioration is, maybe a few days."

John nodded. "Thanks, Doc. I'll need to take care of a few things . . . you know, just in case. Does Elizabeth know?" He knew he probably sounded strange. He felt numb, almost like a spectator watching a show unfold on TV. None of this seemed real.

"No, I wanted to talk to you first." Beckett hated this, being back to feeling helpless while a friend faced death . . . again. He had to be positive about this, for Sheppard as well as for his team. It was too soon for any of them to deal with this. They were all still reeling from the scenes of torture and pain dealt out by Kolya. "Colonel, there's every reason to believe that you'll recover in time, as long as we care for you along the way."

John smiled at Carson, trying to exude the optimism and confidence he felt was needed at this moment. "I know, and you're probably right. I just like to be prepared. My motto is that the more prepared you are for disaster, the less likely it is to happen. Kind of a warped Murphy's Law thing."

Beckett nodded. "How's the pain you were feeling earlier? Your blood work was free from any foreign substances, so I can get you something if you need it."

"I'm good for now." He was hurting, but it wasn't bad yet and he needed to think clearly. In a weird way, he was grateful for the distraction. He could focus on what he needed to tell Lorne and Elizabeth and his team, not leaving much time for obsessing about what Kolya had done to him. He would regret not getting to hunt him down and kill the Genii himself, but it wasn't to be.

"If you'll be okay for a bit, I need to go have a talk with Elizabeth."

John nodded. "I'm fine. Could I get my laptop? You know, to distract me?"

Carson knew exactly what Sheppard wanted the laptop for, but he had no intention of denying the man. "Of course. I'll send someone after it. Let the nurses know if you need anything and, just to warn you, they'll be keeping a close eye on the monitors and your vitals, so be good."

John nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And we'll be needing another round of blood this afternoon so I can tell how things are progressing."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "You know if you keep bleeding me like this, you'll have to keep a transfusion going just to keep me from passing out from blood loss."

Beckett gave a small, tight smile. "As long as there's no fainting involved." They looked at each other a few seconds, each playing the game of trying to keep hope alive and spirits up. Beckett could only think about how they were failing miserably as he headed to Elizabeth's office to tell her she might be losing her second in command all over again. And there still wasn't anything they could do about it.

TBC