Note: Thanks again to all of you reading and reviewing. I just looked at the review count and almost fainted (passed out?). Warm fuzzies for everyone!
The Gift of Life – Chapter 5
Carson stood studying the shattered group of people across the infirmary. Sheppard had been unresponsive since early that morning and lay hooked to a variety of monitors and tubes, an oxygen mask covering his face. His team hadn't left his side since they had returned to the infirmary from breakfast. They sat, stood, and paced around the space near the dying man's bed, taking turns sitting next to his bed and providing physical contact. Teyla held his hand for her turn, gently stroking the side of his hand with her thumb. Rodney laid his hand on Sheppard's forearm, poking the man occasionally with his index finger to see if he could get a reaction. When Ronon took his turn, he moved the chair to the other end and propped his feet up on the bed, making sure his feet were up against the side of Sheppard's leg. Ever so often he would nudge the colonel slightly, silently using McKay's strategy of looking for a reaction.
All the while, they talked quietly, sometimes to each other and sometimes to Sheppard. Someone was always in motion. Someone was always talking. Carson knew they were trying to cope as much as they were trying to maintain a link to their CO and their friend. He shook his head sadly and turned to walk back into his office.
"Dr. Beckett?"
"Yes?" he said as he turned back to face the nurse approaching him.
"Latest lab reports," she said, handing him a folder.
Carson nodded. "Thanks. I hope these have some good news because we're just about out of time."
The nurse sighed and looked down at the floor. "It's just so unfair. If the colonel . . . well . . . it just wouldn't be the same without him."
"Aye, lass, I know." Carson knew his staff was taking Sheppard's declining health hard. The colonel had spent enough time there that they all knew him well. Even though he wasn't always a model patient and they had trouble getting the truth out him sometimes, he always treated them with respect and showed appreciation for their help. Carson smiled as he thought about how uncomfortable the man still got when he was bedridden and had to be aided with even the most basic needs. He was proud of his nurses and the professional way they tried to limit their patient's embarrassment.
"I'd better go change out his IV before it runs completely dry," she said as she walked across the infirmary. Beckett just nodded after her. He was about to go back into his office when he heard footsteps and saw movement in his peripheral vision. Glancing to the infirmary door, he watched Major Lorne take a few steps in and stop, staring at the group across the way.
"Major Lorne," said Beckett.
Lorne turned to see Carson standing in the doorway to his office. "Doc. Just thought I'd check on the colonel." He paused and looked back to the bed with his ailing CO. "Doesn't look like he's doing so well."
Beckett rubbed the side of his face, pausing with his chin cupped in his hand. "No, I'm afraid he's not doing well at the moment." They stood silently, observing John's team watch over him.
"He can still pull out of this, right?" Lorne's voice was a bit smaller than Beckett ever remembered hearing before.
"Aye, but . . . not if this continues much longer." Beckett exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm afraid at this point it's not very probable. To be realistic son, this is most likely goodbye."
Lorne frowned briefly before returning his expression to the neutral one he'd worn in. "Colonel Sheppard always tells us, it ain't over til it's over. So as long as there's a hair's breadth of a chance, I'm sticking with the thought that he'll pull it out in the end, just like he always does." Lorne looked over at Beckett and nodded. "Thanks, Doc. Think I'll go say hi to my CO."
Beckett watched as Lorne strolled over to stand beside the others surrounding Sheppard's bed. He could hear them talking, filling in the major about Sheppard's current condition. Fingering the folder in his hands, he headed into his office, renewed hope making him anxious to see Sheppard's latest test results.
Lorne crossed his arms, watching Teyla make little circles on the back of Sheppard's hand just below the entrance point of the IV. She was leaned over, softly encouraging the colonel to fight and assuring him that he was not alone. The major felt a tightness roll across his chest.
"I think he sent you an email," said McKay, obviously uncomfortable and looking for a distraction.
"I got it," replied Lorne.
McKay shifted his weight. "Did you look at it yet?"
"No," said Lorne simply. "Don't plan to."
McKay shifted his weight again, rubbing his hands nervously and licking his lips. "Uh, it might be important."
Lorne turned his head to look at McKay, his expression blank. "Not yet, it's not. I haven't given up yet."
"Darn right," rumbled Ronon as he paced behind them. "No one is giving up yet, least of all Sheppard. He's still fighting. He said he wouldn't give up and I believe him."
Rodney just nodded silently, wishing he had as much confidence as those around him seemed to have. He was afraid, afraid of losing one of the few friends he'd ever made in his life. One of the few people to put up with his ego and his sarcasm and his rambling and keep coming back for more, dishing out his own sarcastic remarks as he went.
They all turned at the sound of approaching footsteps to see Beckett making his way across the infirmary. He stopped beside Lorne at the foot of the bed.
"I have a bit of good news," Beckett said proudly. "The colonel's latest test results show no further deterioration in his condition. It's not as good as having an improvement, but it could mean he's stabilized and about to turn it around." Beckett smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. He feeling genuine hope for the ailing pilot and his face beamed with it. He was further boosted by the looks now filling the faces of those around him.
Teyla placed one hand gently on the side of Sheppard's face, whispering proud encouragement to him as she stroked his cheek. She smiled, certain now that her friend would be staying with them.
Beckett took a deep breath, not wanting to squelch their hope, bur feeling the need to be honest with them. "You have to understand, he's not out of the woods by a long shot. This is not a guarantee of recovery, but it is a sign that there is still hope."
McKay clamped his hand on Beckett's shoulder. "That's all we need, Carson. That's all he needs."
oOo
John sat down under the tree, looking out across the calm surface of the lake. He knew the lake, the area, but he didn't know from where. Childhood maybe? He wasn't sure. He was tired, he knew that. And he felt a sense of urgency, as if he should be doing something.
"They're waiting for you."
John looked up at the Wraith and sighed, moving his gaze back down to his hands in his lap. "You're still here?"
The Wraith chuckled, which John found unnerving and comforting at the same time. "Are you even real? I mean, are you really here in my mind or are you really just . . . I don't know, like my subconscious talking to me or something?"
The Wraith smiled down at him. "Does it matter?"
John thought about it for a second before looking back up at the creature. "No, I guess not. Just curious."
"You can't hide here forever, Your friends are waiting for you to rejoin them. I am impressed at how quickly you found your inner strength and took command of it. Most humans are not so enabled."
"Did you have anything to do with that?" John asked.
The Wraith simply smiled at him again.
"Not very informative, are you? And don't say it, there is much we do not know about the Wraith. I get it. Don't guess we'll ever know if they are all as talkative as you."
The Wraith chuckled again, producing a smile on John's face. After a moment, his expression sobered. "You are afraid."
John looked away, rubbing his face with his hand. He then sat staring at the ground, silently contemplating the Wraith's statement. "Yeah, I guess I am. I was prepared to die . . . twice . . . and yet here I am. I know there will the nightmares, the lingering pain, the looks from those who watched . . . " He shuddered involuntarily, imagining for a moment what it must have looked like to his friends, imagining their hopelessness.
"I'm just not sure I can go back now."
The Wraith continued to stand over him, making John nervous. "You are a soldier, Sheppard, a good and strong soldier . . . as I am. We are used to pain and nightmares and death. Why is this different?"
John looked up quizzically. "Wraith have nightmares?" Not getting an answer, he looked back down. "I don't know why this is different. I guess . . . I guess because they were all watching. I'm supposed to be the military leader and they saw me weak and helpless, gagged and tied to that chair like . . . they saw me . . . "
"In pain? Do you not think when you return from battle injured that they do not see you in pain?"
"This is different," said Sheppard sharply, anger beginning to build inside him. Anger at Kolya, anger at the Wraith now taunting him, anger at the loss of control. "I was used. There was no point to what he did. He knew Elizabeth would never give in and yet he made me helpless and tortured me in front of her, in front of them all. It was a power play, revenge, a game to him. I don't care what he says, it was all about making me suffer in front of my friends because I humiliated him in front of his people."
John pulled himself to his feet, staggering at the weakness that filled him. Once he was steady, he began to pace.
The Wraith stood calmly watching him, as he had in the cell not that long ago. "Your anger fills you again. You must control it or it will control you. It will be hard . . . but you must go back and face your fears and your anger. Only then can you regain yourself."
John suddenly stopped pacing and looked at the Wraith, his anger dissolving as he began to laugh. "Okay, now I know this can't be real. That sounds like something out of a really corny movie. You aren't really here, are you?"
"You told me that you do not leave people behind. An honorable Wraith will not leave a brother behind. Let us leave it at that." The Wraith grinned. "There is still much you do not know about the Wraith."
Hearing an unexpected sound, John turned to see movement through the trees behind him. For a second, he thought he saw Teyla, but then she was gone. "Teyla?" No one answered and the forest was now still, making him wonder if he had imagined it. Turning back around, he found the Wraith was no longer there.
"Well, this sucks." He stood looking around, wondering what he should do when he saw an activated stargate in the distance, blue puddle shimmering in the middle of the ring. "Okay, I know that wasn't there a minute ago." Feeling drawn to the gate, he decided it was as good a place to start as any, so he began walking toward it. "I guess it's time to go back," he mumbled, looking around for any sign of the Wraith. When he arrived, he didn't hesitate, but stepped through the event horizon.
oOo
The deep aching exhaustion that seemed to hold him like a vise made it hard to open his eyes. A mental image of lifting weights with his eyelids flashed through his mind, almost making him chuckle. He lay for a moment, listening to the sounds and trying to identify them. Heart monitor. Hiss of oxygen, making him aware of the mask on his face. He thought he could pick out two distinct snores . . . Ronon and Rodney? As he began to process the sight of the ceiling in the darkened room, he also became aware of the touches.
John rolled his head slightly to his left. Teyla slept with her head on the edge of the bed, one hand holding his and the other draped across his forearm. Closer to the foot of the bed slept Ronon, scrunched down in a chair with his head leaned against the back, mouth open, snoring loudly. Following the long legs, he found the big guy's shoeless feet wedged firmly up against his thigh. Gradually, as energy would allow, a small smile crept across his mouth.
Slowly and carefully, John shifted his head to roll toward his right. McKay slept leaned over with his head on the mattress, his mouth open and a small stream of drool forming a thin line down the side of his face. One arm was partway under his head and the other was thrown out so that his hand rested against Sheppard's side. Rodney mumbled and then snorted, his face sliding forward a bit before he resumed his light snore.
He was glad he had come back. He was glad he'd been able to come back, because who would want to be anywhere but with people who watched your back like this. He knew, once again, that he was truly home.
"Colonel?"
The whispered voice of the nurse was so soft he'd barely heard it. Turning his head back the other way, Kelly stood grinning at him. "Shhh," he hissed from under the mask. He wanted to tell her not to wake them, but he didn't think he was able. She understood though, nodding as she smiled.
"Can I get you anything?" she whispered.
John looked from Ronon to Teyla and then to Rodney. Glancing back up at the nurse, he said, "No," very softly. He already had what he needed.
Kelly patted him on the leg and quietly moved around the sleeping forms to check Sheppard's monitors, IV, and the oxygen mask on his face. Satisfied, she laid her hand gently on his shoulder, noticing his eyelids had already begun to slide closed. "Good to have you back, colonel," she whispered as she bent over close to his face. His lips curved up slightly in a small smile, even as his eyes finished closing. She stood watching until she was sure he had gone back to sleep and then moved across the infirmary toward the cot in the back where Beckett had finally been convinced to lie down.
oOo
The next time John woke, he felt like only a few minutes had passed, but when he opened his eyes, the bright light of day disputed that thought. He was somewhat startled to find four sets of eyes looking at him, as if they'd been watching him and waiting on him to wake up.
"Welcome back, John," said Teyla, sitting next to him in the same chair she'd been in earlier. Her warm, genuine smile put him immediately at ease.
"Hey," he said, his voice barely audible. It was then he noticed that the mask had been replaced with nasal cannula. Rodney moved to raise the head of the bed a few inches while Beckett disappeared and then returned with a cup of water. John was thankful when Beckett put the straw to his lips because he honestly didn't think he had the strength to raise his arms. Beckett pulled the water away after only a few sips, but it was enough to relieve parched feeling in his throat. "Thanks," he managed to scratch out.
John looked at the grinning faces of his friends. "Happy bunch," he said, still not feeling strong enough to go for complete sentences.
"You gave us quite a scare, colonel," explained Beckett. "We were beginning to wonder if you were going to pull out of this one. You'll be happy to know that your liver and renal functions are rapidly improving. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't have thought this level of improvement possible if I wasn't seeing it myself."
"Inner strength," John said softly. He was a little uncomfortable when Teyla looked at him oddly.
"Well, you must have a lot of it," commented Beckett. "How do you feel, colonel? Any pain?"
John shifted a little, assessing his body. "Tired . . . just ache . . . I'm okay."
"No," said Beckett. "But you will be." He smiled and nodded at Sheppard before looking around to his teammates. "Don't tire him out too much. He's still got a long way to go."
"Have you called Elizabeth yet?" asked Rodney.
"Aye, she's on her way. Call me if he needs anything." Beckett turned and headed to his office, the exhaustion from earlier suddenly seeming vague and unimportant.
"Glad you're back, Sheppard," said Ronon. "Too much trouble to learn to work with someone new."
John merely nodded a bit. He felt sluggish and heavy and wasn't sure how long he could keep his eyes open. But here, surrounded by his team, he felt good.
"There's Elizabeth," said Rodney, jumping up to meet her at the door. As he left, John looked up at Teyla.
"You were there . . . weren't you?" John had to work to maintain eye contact, afraid of what she would say.
Teyla furrowed her brow. "I . . . am not certain. I had a strange dream last night and I . . . believe that you were in it. You were . . . speaking with the Wraith from the planet."
John sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Where?"
Teyla looked down at her hand, lying on his forearm. "It is very vague. I believe we were near a lake . . . maybe some trees. I only remember you and the Wraith. I thought I heard something about inner strength and going back."
Sheppard felt his stomach clench. She had been there. "How?"
Teyla opened her mouth and then quickly closed it. Shaking her head, she breathed out heavily. "I am not sure. Nothing like this has ever happened before."
"Wraith DNA," said Ronon. They both jerked their heads up, having forgotten he was still there.
"I don't have Wraith DNA," said Sheppard sharply.
"Maybe you do now," offered Ronon.
"It could be something else," said Teyla, sensing John's discomfort. "If the Wraith had somehow connected to you, then maybe I was there through him. Maybe it is something else entirely, a bond that has formed but not been tapped into before now. It was unlike any of my connections with Wraith in the past."
John shivered involuntarily, now aware that maybe the Wraith had left something of himself inside John. Maybe that was what he had meant by brother. John wasn't really sure if he wanted to know or not.
"Hey, Rodney tells me you're doing much better. It's about time. Didn't we just have a discussion about this brink of death stuff?" said Elizabeth as she walked up to stand beside Teyla. Her smile faltered a bit as she felt the tension hanging in the air and saw it reflected in their eyes. "Problem?"
John looked from Teyla to Ronon. "No," he said simply, his expression asking Ronon to leave it alone, at least for now.
"No problem," echoed Ronon, looking hard at John.
John relaxed visibly, the easing tension in his muscles almost making him dizzy. The tired, achy feeling from before took hold with a vengeance, and he blinked his eyes slowly.
"John . . . how are you feeling?" asked Elizabeth, now uncertain about how well the colonel was actually doing. He looked tense and she thought he had paled since her arrival.
"I'm 'kay . . . tired." He slid his eyes over to Teyla, who gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. He relaxed even further, realizing he could deal with it later, that they had given him a brief reprieve. He knew he would have to face the questions at some point, but he needed to be stronger. So he let himself be lulled back to sleep, his body needing the healing rest it provided and his mind needing the down time.
"He's not much fun these days," commented Rodney. "Even when he's getting better, all he does is sleep."
"Do not begrudge him that," said Teyla. "He needs to rest in order to gain his strength back. Dr. Beckett has taught us that."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," admitted Rodney. "And he's still got a long way to go and a lot of stuff to deal with."
"Got that right," said Ronon, looking at Teyla's narrowed, warning eyes.
TBC