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II. Chilling Fire

Beckett was communicating with Dr. Weir on the bridge of the Daedalus, leaving Sheppard, Teyla and McKay to watch over Ronon. The Canadian was having a whispered argument with the American over their countries' better qualities. Teyla arched a brow and attempted to block out their hissing tones as she kept her eyes on the Satedan. The anesthesia from the surgery was beginning to wear off and Carson had asked her to contact him as soon as Ronon was awake again. The doctor wanted to assess the severity of the warrior's concussion before giving him more sedatives.

"Oh please, don't even go there," McKay whisper-snapped at Sheppard.

"I'm serious. As a kid I never even knew that Canada had an army."

"Well that's hardly surprising given your education system."

"Those are mighty big words for a man employed by the US Air Force."

"I am only on the payroll. You can't blame me for working a system run by idiots when I see it."

Sheppard started to raise his voice. "Those 'idiots' are putting food in your belly." He squirmed a little in his chair when Teyla shot him a warning look. He dropped his voice to a whisper again. "Canada's more like America than you'll admit."

"Well, we are neighbors."

Sheppard was silent for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest; his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankles. He shot Rodney a sideways look. "We should just buy Canada."

McKay scoffed. "Buy Canada?"

Teyla grit her teeth at his raised voice.

"Well, it'd be nicer than invading."

"Why would you invade?"

"We're practically the same anyway. And you could keep Quebec – we don't want that. Anyone who doesn't want to be American can just move there."

"Oh I don't believe this!"

Rodney's outburst made the Satedan stir and the other two men fell silent. Teyla watched as Ronon swallowed and flexed his hand that rested upon the mattress then stilled, remaining on his side. She waited until his breathing evened out again before she arched a brow at the two sheepish men. Sheppard had leaned forward in his chair and now eased back with an apologetic look. He then casually smacked McKay.

"I am certain that both of your nations have their merits," she quietly admonished.

"Sorry," McKay mumbled.

One of Ronon's legs twitched like a rabbit's and he took a deep breath. Sheppard rose and stood at the side of the bed opposite of where Teyla sat, sharing a glance with her. Ronon tilted his head a little, his eyes slitting open.

Sheppard smiled. "Hey, buddy."

Teyla reached for his hand and tried to catch his eye with hers, but he still seemed unfocused and disoriented. "Ronon?"

He shifted his weight, starting to roll over onto his back to be more comfortable. But they had been warned by Beckett to make sure he remained on his side and off the wound in his back, so she reached out a hand to his shoulder, stilling the movement.

Ronon felt like he was at sea. The blood rushing past his ears sounded like the surf and he could have sworn the entire world was swaying. He tried to move to better see but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

Sheppard furrowed his brows at the lethargic movements of the Satedan. It was so unnatural to see him prone. "Just stay still, Ronon. Beckett'll be here any minute."

Muffled voices echoed and Ronon struggled to place them. He tried to roll onto his back again, but this time the hand on his shoulder was joined by a hasty one to his back. The latter pressed against the flesh near his wound, eliciting a chilling fire that dug like lightning into the deep between his shoulder blades. He cried out and stiffened, his head suddenly throbbing nauseatingly.

Sheppard yanked his hand away from Ronon's back at the anguished cry, his heart skipping a beat at the chilling sound of pain. The wide-eyed look Teyla gave him seared into his heart and the guilt of it would not leave him be.

Ronon's whole body seemed to cringe and he let out a whimper as his hand flexed at the sheets on the mattress, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as the bruising pain in-between his shoulder blades spread it's wings across his back, coiling like iron around his ribs and arresting his breathing.

Pain. Ronon was showing pain. The thought made Sheppard's stomach churn. His insides felt like they flopped over when he realized that he'd caused the pain in his effort to help.

McKay was already radioing Beckett, shouting at the Scot to "get your ass down here now."

Sheppard's apology escaped as a broken whisper.

Teyla rested her hand against the Runner's cheek, brushing a stray lock away, repeatedly telling him that it was alright.

Sheppard's throat tightened at the sight of his solid companion, his brother, reduced to such vulnerability and torment. His guilt and grief were dimmed by a sudden blossom of hatred of the Wraith. They had done this to Ronon, again. They had brought his brother to his knees. He ground his molars, a fist clenched as he breathed through the anger. McKay watched him warily from the foot of the bed, knowing better than to say anything when he had that steely look in his eye; a look of vengeful, unforgiving prowess.

Beckett bustled back into the ship's infirmary as Ronon let out a choked sob, his muscles spasming in corded torrents of relentless, nauseating hurt. Teyla's eyes searched Ronon's face as a tear slipped down his high cheekbone. She ran her thumb over his temple, at a loss of what to say, knowing by his lack of focus that he wasn't conscious of her presence anyway.

"What happened?" Beckett glanced among the teammates. Teyla squeezed past the bed so Beckett could take her place and check over his patient.

Sheppard straightened. "He woke up and tried to roll over, so Teyla and I stopped him. I think I accidentally pressed against his stitches."

Beckett gave him a slightly disapproving look, cursing under his breath about a lack of a proper hospital. He quickly assessed Ronon's concussion, shining a penlight into his eyes and watching his pupils contract. Ronon squeezed his eyes shut when then light was shone in them, which seemed to please Beckett, as did the small flicker of recognition that lit them when he opened his eyes again to look at the doctor. Carson gave him a small smile and touched his forehead which was beaded with pain-sweat. "Hey there lad." He frowned as he listened to Ronon's heart with his stethoscope then glanced back to his face. "You just rest up there. I'm going to give you something to help you sleep now, alright?"

Ronon's only response was a child-like turn of the head and an attempt to burrow under his pillow.

Beckett sighed and straightened, measuring out a dose of sedative as he spoke. "I don't think he understands me. His heart rate's up a bit but I'm nearly positive that's from the pain." He injected the contents of the syringe into the IV bag.

McKay watched, wincing at the sight of the needle. "What about his head?"

"It appears to be normal for someone who..."
"Who never had much going on up there in the first place?" Rodney quipped before the little man in his head approved of it. He realized what he'd said a little too late.

Carson and Sheppard looked as if they were ready to try shock therapy on him.

"No - for someone who has endured as much recent trauma as he has, Rodney," Carson finished.

McKay squeaked out an "Oh, yes, of course..." before turning away at Teyla's rare look of annoyance. "I'm just uh..." he waved his hand towards the door. "Gonna go get a cup of coffee."

Sheppard kept his eyes narrowed at the Canadian as he passed him and left.

"Thank God he's no longer in the infirmary." Carson rubbed his eyes. "I've had it about up to here with that man." He raised a hand to his chin.

Sheppard smirked. "Now you know how I feel. Some days it's a wonder that I don't shoot him."

Teyla had resumed her seat by Ronon's bed and had taken his hand in hers. His eyes had slipped shut again and the heart monitor beeped more slowly as he fell into a deep sleep. Carson and Sheppard paused in their conversation to observe the signs of slumber, both feeling a wave of relief at the relaxed frame of the Satedan. Sheppard watched his chest expand and contract for a moment before quietly speaking. "Doc, is he gonna be alright?"

Teyla looked to Beckett, also interested in his answer.

Beckett rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I sure as bloody hope so. He has no severe head trauma which is a blessing after that beating he took. We're not out of the woods yet, but I'd say he'd be on his feet again in a week. Hell, probably a few days knowing the stubborn cub."

Sheppard chuckled a little and squeezed the other man's shoulder in thanks. "He's just a damn big cub."

Carson arched a brow, recalling trying to get the Satedan onto a gurney. "Aye." He looked to Teyla who had a small smile on her face as she listened to the two Earth men speak. Her smile strengthened as she locked eyes with Beckett, then she cast her gaze back down to her fallen teammate, her smile significantly dimming as she ran her thumb across the back of his hand.

Beckett checked Ronon's stitches before looking between Teyla and Sheppard. "You both are exhausted. You should get some rest."

Sheppard nodded, his relief at Ronon's prognosis being closely followed by heavy tiredness. "Yeah... I can't argue with that."

Beckett patted him on the back and headed over to the infirmary desk to start on his pile of paperwork.

Sheppard looked to Teyla. "You turnin' in?"

She blinked sleepily but shook her head no, eventually looking back up at him. "Not yet. I wish to remain a little longer."

Sheppard nodded then stepped up to the bedside, watching Ronon sleep for a moment before lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. "Sweet dreams, buddy." He smiled at Teyla before he left and she returned the gesture before letting her eyes settle on Ronon's split lip once more.

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