Scarce
Author: Cheryl W.
Author's Note: Ok, I'm continuing on and I hope I don't screw up the story by doing so. Now it's time for that tedious declaimer of: I'm not a doctor, no doctors were consulted during the production of this story so therefore all my medical procedures are not to be consulted should you, in real life, be attacked by a stiver or another hungry vicious animal. That being said, please excuse any medical/first aid inaccuracies in this story. I wanted to do more research how to treat animal bites/scratches but all I was coming up with was animal attack videos (which I refused to watch…I like my things to stay fantasy world where no real person becomes harmed). So if you could please just see all this as entertainment and turn a blind eye to any medical flub ups, it would be much appreciated.
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Chapter 9: Irreplaceable
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When the gate activated under Loren's IDC, Elizabeth immediately headed to the jumper bay, hoping Ronon's gut instincts about Sheppard being in danger had been wrong. By the time she reached the bay, the jumper had been settled into a landing and the jumper doors were opening and she instantly knew that the Satedan had been right and she had been wrong. Cursing herself for not immediately green lighting Sheppard's team to go after John, she stepped toward the bloody, nearly unconscious man supported between Ronon and Rodney.
"What happened?" she asked but John didn't lift his head to look at her, and it troubled her to think maybe he couldn't move, that that was beyond him. Ronon and Rodney didn't pay her any attention, were already veering to the right with their wounded leader held in their grasp, their destination the infirmary. "I'll have Dr. Beckett meet you on the way," she called after them and then Teyla brushed by her without a word following in the wake of the others.
After calling Beckett and announcing he had an incoming patient, Elizabeth stood there a moment, stunned, found herself standing alone in the jumper bay with Major Lorne, who frankly looked like crap. But he was military and he began to answer her question in respect to her position, "Dr. Weir, there was wild life that we hadn't encountered before…" he began but she held up her hand stopping his report.
"How about you tell me on the way to the infirmary because you look like you need treatment as well," she stated before tucking her head the way the others had went. He simply nodded in gratitude, not because he wanted his wounds seen to but because he ached to be there with Sheppard. He had not gone with Sheppard's team only because sheer military protocol had kept him behind reporting to Dr. Weir. And it wasn't like she didn't want to be there too, because he knew she and John were friends, had endured a lot together and it had bonded them.
It seemed that was John Sheppard's knack, to make Atlantis a family. The man just didn't know it wasn't about others, it was about him. He was the glue. Evan almost smirked, knew McKay would probably turn that into a nick name if he told the Doc his thoughts. He'd probably go around calling Sheppard "Colonel Elmers". Dr. Weir interrupted his thoughts as they walked to the transporter with a "Major?" and then he fought back a sigh and started on the tale of how one stupid careless Major got his Colonel mauled, bitten, tossed down a mountain and nearly splattered at the bottom of a cliff. If Sheppard didn't put a black mark on his record for this mission, he wasn't sure Dr. Weir would be so forgiving. And he wouldn't protest, would most likely agree as he recalled the hell of the day and the last journey of the trip home.
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Sheppard had gone silent that last hour as they made their way through the by then dark forest led by the beam of flashlight on Teyla's P90 with Ronon hacking away the foliage in their way.
Evan was on John's right side and Rodney doggedly had not relished John's left to Teyla as they inched along the path. Between them, John hung in their gasp, head down, silent, feet barely moving, heat pouring off him, sweat soaking his hair and his body, and his breathing…labored. And Evan feared when it would stop, that drag of air in and out, when this day would go from hellish to nightmare.
"I am so sorry, John," Evan choked out, didn't want the words to go unsaid. He had tried to say them all day in military speak but needed John to know it plainly. How sorry he was, that he didn't want this, would take John's pain on himself if he could. Should take it on.
But John wasn't so far gone that he didn't hear him, didn't try to assuage his guilt.
"I'm…cat…nip…'member," John wheezed out. Then he declared with fervor, "Not…your …fault…" John wanted Evan to get that, accept that. Like Holland had tried so damn hard for him to get. But John hadn't, couldn't, even now. Grief and guilt were a terrible duo, ate at your soul even as you told yourself you were handling things, compartmentalizing just fine. Meanwhile your soul was leaking away onto the floor. He didn't want that for Evan, for any of them.
"My…vacation…day…can do …with it…what I …want. Got that? My….choice. Mine." Then he managed to raise his head, wished Evan wasn't in shadows, that the light of Evan's P90 allowed him to see Evan's eyes, so he knew the other man was getting this. "Say it…back. My..choice."
Major Lorne did as command, "Your choice," but his voice was more choked than before. He didn't believe it in his heart. And he and John knew it. John cursed quietly and bitterly before he dropped his head down again.
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That was the last John spoke, he had said his peace to Evan and it had taken nearly the last of his strength to do it. 'For you, to forgive you,' Evan needlessly reminded himself before he bitterly rebuked, 'And you didn't accept it, couldn't figure out how to even fake accepting it.' Aloud, he finished his tale to Dr. Weir. "The terrain was thick forest, cliffs, it took us hours to return to the gate once Sheppard's team met up with us." So simple a description for a painful trek it was almost a mockery.
As Evan and Elizabeth stepped out of the transporter, they arrived in time to see Ronon pick up an unprotesting John in his arms and lay him down on the gurney Dr. Beckett had wheeled out into the hallway. Then there was the mad dash for the infirmary, Dr. Beckett already assessing Sheppard's condition, Teyla holding John's hand while Ronon and Rodney followed the gurney. Evan and Dr. Weir trailed behind, and as much as they both valued John, they were outsiders here. Were cousins, not brothers, not a sister, were 2nd tier family members. And they accepted that, knew their place, had the heart to be grateful for that blessing even as they were a bit jealous.
But when John was whooshed into the surgery suite, they were all left behind, aching to be with John and yet sidelined to the waiting room. And Evan had to reevaluate his earlier description. Dragging John through the forest, causing him more pain, fearing that the fever would spike too high, do irreparable damage, it had been horrible but this…John out of his sight, not being privy to his condition, not hearing sickly reassuring sounds of his labored breaths, it was worse.
If something went horribly wrong, if there was complications they hadn't sensed, if John died now…alone, without him, without his family of Ronon, Teyla, McKay, even Elizabeth. It was unbearable. Like they had abandoned him at the last. When he needed them most.
For a big man, Ronon could be stealthy, had gained his side without Evan's notice until he spoke. "Carson's with him. He's John's friend, knows Sheppard's…."
Evan's eyes met Ronon's and for the first time in their acquaintance they truly came to an understanding. Ronon knew where his thoughts had been and now he knew where Ronon's were even before Ronon managed to choke out, "That we can't lose him." Evan could only nod, words not possible but it was enough. Then Ronon joined McKay and Teyla in their vigil, Evan didn't miss that Ronon tugged McKay down into a seat and took Teyla's hand and led her to the chairs before dropping his tall frame into a chair. They knew this game well. Had played it before. Even Elizabeth had, was taking the chair to McKay's right. Leaving Evan standing there, uncertain. Until Teyla called his name, "Evan" and she nodded to the chair to her left. Invited him into their family, into their special bond, into their own personal torment.
He didn't hesitate long, headed for the chair…only to get snagged on the way by a nurse who started to manhandle him into an exam room but he called out to the group, "Any news on Sheppard…"
"We'll let you know the second we know," Dr. Weir assured him and that had to be enough. Slowly he turned away, let the nurse lead him away. But he couldn't help feeling like an outsider all over again. Knew if John's condition was worse than he let himself believe, if the Colonel didn't make it… he'd pack his bags himself and scuttle back to Earth to face whatever consequences there were for destroying the heart of an entire expedition team, because, the death of Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, it would be catastrophe to the family of Atlantis.
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It was times like this that Rodney missed being friendless. Sort of. Yes, it was comforting being surrounding by friends right then, waiting…doing the horrible, gut wrenching waiting. But then again, if he didn't have friends, hadn't let down his guard, hadn't come to actually like the cocky flyboy Ancient gene wonder boy…he wouldn't have this terrible fear tearing him apart, wouldn't be here waiting, praying for good news, trying so hard to not let the possible bad news even cross his mind.
They were home. They had gotten Sheppard home. They should be cheering, off cleaning up, eating but …a different type of worry had claimed him, all of them when they handed John off to Carson. Of the 'what if' category. None of them were doctors, even medics, had only the "patch 'em up and get 'em to Beckett" training. They didn't know the complications to John's wounds, the ramifications of his day long fever, of his severe blood loss. To them, all was good because John had managed, even in his pained haze, to keep shuffling his feet along, responded to Major Lorne's apology, didn't do anything drastic like stop breathing and they had gotten him home, to Carson, to help.
But now John was under medical scrutiny. Carson wouldn't be swayed by little things like Sheppard still breathing, his heart still beating. Wouldn't stamp it, all good until…until…and that was the true fear. That Carson wouldn't stamp it all good. Would see what they couldn't, maybe didn't want to. That John was…he couldn't be…wasn't going to….had suffered too much….
Heck, Rodney didn't know! He wasn't a medical doctor, hadn't ever wanted to be. But right then, he wished he knew enough to know if John was going to screw them all over and die, no matter they had gotten him home, thought they had accomplished something, did the best they could for him.
What he did know was that he had read Carson's expression as he assessed John, wheeled him down the corridor into the infirmary, and it wasn't the Scot's happy go lucky, 'he'll be right as rain' expression. No, it had been his focused doctor face, commanding his team with strident orders, his hands not bothering to be gentle as they pulled back the bandages covering John but hurried, forceful, purposeful, desperate motions.
'And my last true conversation with John had been me snapping at him, berating him for going with Lorne, not telling me where he was going to be for the day.' And truly, all he should have been saying was, 'I'm concerned about you. I'm freaking out that you're wounded so badly. Whatever I did to make you not trust me to tell me about Holland's death's anniversary, about taking a day off, about where you were going, I promise I won't do it again.'
But just like the deep friendship he shared with Sheppard, Teyla, Ronon and Carson was a new trait, so was expressing his emotions in any way except ranting, belittling and snapping. Officially, he was back to the drawing board, having failed at both endeavors. A good friend wouldn't have yelled at a friend in pain, wouldn't have had trouble expressing his worry for a friend. A good friend would have had the courage to track down John after the blowup about John's suicidal dependency on the Ancient Shield, about his delusional idea that Koyla deserved an honorable death, his stupid notion that they all didn't think he had every right to shoot an unarmed Koyla in the head, certainly didn't want the Genii getting yet another chance to kill John Sheppard right before their eyes.
Didn't John know what it did to them the first time?! Watching the Wraith feed on him, watching his life being taken from him, watching Sheppard being taken from them?! It was hell. There was no other word for it. Rodney had woken up shouting "Sheppard!" on too many nights after the event, the scenes playing again in his head, twisted and this time showing a dead Sheppard. And he didn't think he was the only one of the team having the same nightmares, not due to an alien influence but something real, something so deeply troubling and hurtful…it lingered, long after John was miraculously returned to them.
And yesterday, John had tempted fate, had put his life in Koyla's hands, again. Had surrendered. Faced down a firing squad, albeit with an ace in his pocket. And John had done that, risked himself, to save them, and they had to stand there and watch as bullets flew at him, not knowing John's plan until the bullets pelted off the shield. But their excruciating terror melting to relief shorted out the next second when the Ancient Shield protecting John did the same. Only for the townsfolks to intervene, saving John again. And it would have been a victory…if John hadn't faced off with Koyla. Hadn't sought to… to…Rodney didn't know what?! Exact revenge and yet honor the solider Koyla was, that Sheppard thought he himself should be for them?! Adhering to some damn code of honor?!
Didn't Sheppard know his honor wasn't in question, never would be?! That all they wanted was him ok, not filled with bullets, not dead for real by Koyla's hand. 'And not dead by some stupid primitive lion, dino thing either,' Rodney tacked onto the growing lists of ways he didn't want to lose his best friend. What he said aloud was a broken, "I shouldn't have yelled at him about the Shield with the Koyla thing."
Teyla fought back a sigh of guilt but it carried in her words anyway, "We all have regrets of how we handled that, Rodney. None more than me."
"I should have hunted Koyla down long before then, put a bullet in his head," Ronon fumed, had thought somehow he had to let Sheppard do it, that John needed to kill Koyla to right the wrong done to him. But now he wished he hadn't hesitated when Koyla entered the village, had not sided with Teyla on the whole wait thing, had shoved John in Lucius' special hiding place and taken out Koyla on his own.
Elizabeth entered the round robin of guilt. "Ronon, we had a few other things to occupy our time. Besides, I told Landon to notify me if he ever learned even a rumor of where Koyla was. Trust me when I say I wanted the man as dead as the rest of you," true hatred in her tone that she usually reserved for Wraith but Koyla had made her betray John, even if it was at John's insistent. She had found that John's approval…it did nothing to smother her shame, her bitterness at her choice, that she protected a man she didn't like and didn't trust instead of protecting John, someone who had come to mean so much to her. All for the sake of the greater good. Never before had she wanted to forsake all to save one.
As much as Teyla wanted to assign blame to Koyla for John leaving them behind today, no longer trusting them, she knew it wasn't the Genii's fault, was hers, was theirs, the people John had trusted most who had let him down. Was that guilt that choked the waiting room, twisted cruelly with their fear for their friend's life. "I do not believe this is about Koyla. It is about how we reacted to the fear of losing John when he challenged Koyla."
Not denying her insight, Ronon growled, "A risk he didn't have to take." Silently he hated his part in all this. 'A risk I should have taken for him. I shouldn't have been bait for him. None of us should have been. We were a liability to him. I was a liability to him.' Which made him doubt his place on John's team, understood why John's trust in him was shaken.
Again Elizabeth interjected pragmatism. "He felt he did have to take the risk." That had all eyes flying to her in question.
Only Rodney dared to try and push through the security clearance red tape of Elizabeth's admission. "Did he tell you that in his private debriefing?!"
Torn between betraying John's trust and allowing John's teammates…John's family to see his point of view, mend what was hurt in John, Elizabeth broke protocol, hoped it mattered that she was doing it for the right reasons. "He didn't want anyone else hurt if Koyla tried to escape."
Teyla stiffened in her seat. "Like I said would happen if he went after Koyla. I said that innocents would be caught in the cross fire." Had not truly envisioned where that logic would lead John, what it had almost cost them all. Might still.
"So he made sure the only one in Koyla's crosshairs was him," Ronon concluded, knew the warrior in him approved but the part of him that viewed John as a brother, was less proud of Sheppard's decision.
For McKay this was all well and good…if it was some war movie of the week. But in real life…when lives were at stake not just egos and odds and noble actions, a few villagers who had, excuse him, been fine with them being forced to be bait for John, who had been only in some small percentage of danger verses John's high level of danger..it left his gut churning. Not one to keep things like that to himself, he caustically bit out, "Did he honestly think we'd think that was a wonderful idea?! If he was a second slower, Koyla a second faster…" broke off, because they might have ended up where they were right now, with John grievously injured, fighting for his life or worse, much worse. He ran a trembling hand down his face to gather himself. "Feels like we've come full circle, for what?!" he bitterly challenged as he surged to his feet, wished he was a violent person, could kick over a table, punch a wall.
It was Lorne who answered Rodney's rhetorical question as he skirted around the exam curtain and walked to the waiting group. "Colonel Sheppard won't apologize for what he did with Koyla, or what he did to save me today. That's what makes him so important to us all."
"And makes us want to throttle him," McKay grumbled as he paced but didn't refute Lorne's statement. Knew the Major was right. John never apologized for the risks he took to save others.
Evan smirked. "Yeah. Throttle him or hug him…in equal measures." Then he shuffled forward, the pain killers mercifully setting in as he claimed the seat Teyla had offered him earlier. He let the silence hold for a few minutes, fighting with himself on his moral dilemma. But couldn't dismiss the notion that the time to stay silent was past, that just like he knew Elizabeth had decided, betraying a confidence was better than letting a friend drown in emotion hurt and wrong assumptions. "The Koyla showdown….he thinks he lost your trust." Felt all eyes on him and the air in the room charge with tension. He met Ronon's eyes, felt he, out of all of them, might get John's headspace best. "That you won't follow him anymore like you had, that you think he's…." But the words caught in Evan's throat, felt a whole other betrayal to even say them, associate them with the honorable man that John Sheppard was.
But Rodney impatiently demanded, "He thinks that we think he's what?!"
The labels still came out choked as Evan got them out. "A murderer… reckless with your lives…suicidal." He fisted his hands, hating that he had said those things, that John could think them. "Things none of us would ever think of him."
That had Ronon surging out of his chair, hands fisted, nearby walls in jeopardy of being punched. "How can he think that?" he lowly roared, didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself from slamming John into a wall if he was there right then, for thinking any of that. If John wasn't busy….fighting for his life.
"Because I insinuated that his need to confront Koyla was….selfish. That his ….desire for revenge was blinding him to the danger it would cost others. That his wanting Koyla dead was… immoral," Teyla supplied with utter heartbreak and shame. Her intentions had been good but they had sorely wounded the man she had sought to protect the most.
Rodney added with equal regret, "Me chewing him out about being stupid to trust the Shield to withstand all those bullets after it handled an explosion was no, 'I'm pretty sure you're not suicidal and I'm so glad you're not dead' parade."
Running a hand through his dreadlocks, Ronon bitterly confessed, "Yeah and I yelled at him about facing off with Koyla. Didn't say I was more than fine with Koyla being dead just not…you know, how he went about it. Putting himself in danger."
Though Evan had been certain John's teammates' motives had been in concern for John, it was heartening to hear them aloud, wished John was there to hear them. "I told him none of that was about you not trusting him, was about you… you…" Lorne saw all them looking at him again, waiting, again. Silently vowing that his boss was going to owe him for making him be all touchy feely on his behalf, Evan finished his declaration, "It was about you caring about him, not wanting to lose him. But it…I don't think it got through to him," resignation turning his voice low.
"I'll make it get thru to him," Ronon threatened like he'll plummet John until he got it.
"We all will," Teyla pledged, noticeably putting aside her shame and sorrow and donning her warrior mentality.
"Yeah, because he listens so well when we show concern," Rodney grumbled but when Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth and Evan all looked at him he relented with a put upon sigh. "Yeah, of course I'm in on the whole 'knock some sense into Sheppard's thick skull that he's not expendable'. But from past experience, it's an uphill battle."
"Well then, it's a good thing none of us like to lose," Elizabeth smiled her tough, determined smile that said she wouldn't back down and encouraged them that they shouldn't either.
But as much as Evan knew he should feel something along the lines of hope, he couldn't feel much except fear for Sheppard's life. Knew that they would all take Sheppard's hatred even, if only he fought hard and stayed with them. But if things turned a bad corner, if John did the one thing none of them could forgive him for and died, died doubting what he meant to them all, that was utterly unconscionable to Evan.
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Doctor Carson Beckett didn't have much experience with treating animal attacks and wished he wasn't broadening his horizons right then. A gunshot or a knife wound, blunt object trauma, stuns, diseases, alien and otherwise, those were his go-to things, they followed guidelines, scientific procedures, but the wounds on Colonel Sheppard were anything but clinical, were messy, and brutal with unpredictable consequences.
Were the creatures that attacked him venomous? What diseases did they carry? What was in the planet's soil that was harmful because it was in John's wounds, along with the animal's saliva. Then there was the physical damage to John's shoulder, his chest, his blood loss, the infection burning through his body, the congestion in his lungs, the cracked ribs, grade 3 concussion and the bloody bruising the lad had from head to toe.
'Damn it son, you were supposed to be off enjoying a little down time, a nice boring walk in the woods,' Carson chided his patient, eyes slipping up from his inspection of the wounds to John's slack face. Dr. Weir had filled him in on John's furlough with Evan after Rodney didn't return to the infirmary with a protesting Sheppard in tow. At first Carson had been angry with Sheppard, but hearing that the others had twisted Dr. Weir's arm to go after the Colonel, that anger had settled into an uncomfortable pit of worry. Because no one knew John better than his teammates, if they sensed John needed them…by jove, it was very likely true.
And it had been. Even now John's condition was serious and if it had been a few more hours or, God forbid, another day or more until John was back here, until he could treat him….Carson didn't like quoting odds but they would be severely not in John's favor with any additional delay. So once again, John's team had moved heaven and earth to save their leader, their friend.
'They got him home. Now it's time for me to do my part,' Carson told himself as he inhaled a steadying breath and then began giving out a steady stream of instructions to his team. No bloody furry thing was going to steal John Sheppard away from the people who loved him. Not on his watch.
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As Beckett expected, his appearance in the waiting room created quite a stir, had chairs abandoned and him surrounded by worried, intense expressions and overlapping questions of "How is he?" from Elizabeth and Teyla and a snippy "What took you so long?! We hauled him up a cliff in less time than you've kept us waiting!" of course from Rodney. He held up a hand to silence them and to have them settle.
"We've treated the wounds, repaired the muscle damage in his shoulder, are giving him units of blood and loading his body with antibiotics. My chief concern is the infection and high fever. It's had time to dig itself in pretty good."
"We got him back here as soon as we could," Rodney insisted, his tone defensive but the look in his eyes was shameful and scared.
Carson reached out, gave Rodney's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "I know you did, Rodney. I'm not placing blame just saying it'll be an uphill battle until the infection and fever get under control."
"But he'll be ok, right?" Ronon asked as if he were making a threat but Carson knew from experience the Satedan always wanted things in black and white. Refused to allow any room for Carson to flounder in half truths.
But Carson knew it wasn't really up to him, that infections, fevers could claim lives, wounds less sever and treated sooner than Sheppard's had proven fatal. That medicine alone wasn't the determining factor, the patient's will to live, to fight, to be stubborn and refuse to leave this life, to leave his friends behind, that could sway the outcome. So he smiled up at Ronon, "I think we all know how stubborn Colonel Sheppard is. He wouldn't dare let a pussy cat get the better of him…or leave us."
And that was enough reassurance for Ronon, who broke into a joyous smile. But Carson saw that one member of the gathered crowd was still watching him with strained features. He addressed that person now. "Major, I believe I ordered a doctor to look you over and find you a nice comfy hospital bed."
"I've been examined and treated, Doctor. I don't need the overnight package," Evan denied stiffly, didn't know why Carson was bothering with him when he should be getting back to Sheppard. Because the doctor's reassurances that John was going to be ok were good and all, but they were emotional, not clinical. He wanted facts, not heart and flower predictions. Didn't like false hope, knew how much worse it was when it was stripped away. He knew that first hand when one of his friends in Afghanistan had taken fire but the doctor said he was going to be fine, that they got the bullet out with minimal damage. But when Evan returned from his patrol a day later, his friend was dead, some unforeseen complication…a bleeder they didn't detect.
A little taken back by the usually good tempered Major's tone, Carson wanted to have a private conversation with Lorne. "Well, I'll like to have a look at ya. Let's hop on over to an exam area…."
"I'm fine. You should get back to the Colonel," Evan snapped, felt his irk rising the longer Beckett remained away from John.
Sensing the building clash of wills, Dr. Weir stepped up to the two men, used her command tone on Evan. "Major, let Dr. Beckett check you over."
And though Lorne's jaw clenched, he obeyed, gave a curt nod to Dr. Weir and strode off to the exam area he had went AWOL from earlier. Carson gave Elizabeth a thankful look and then he followed in Evan's footsteps, left Sheppard's friends to settle again in chairs. Knew they would not budge until he gave them the green light to visit John.
When he arrived in the exam area Evan was already sitting on the bed, but his posture was stiff and his features set in that military façade of obedience when it was anything but. He had seen Sheppard wear the expression almost anytime he was forced to have his wounds tended to after a mission. Like he was only doing it because it was protocol. Had nothing to do with easing his own pain, ensuring that he was ok.
Pulling the curtain closed around them for some privacy, Carson didn't begin his exam of Evan, instead folded his arms across his chest and eyed up the Major. "You learn that expression from the Colonel or do all you military types get taught that in basic training?"
It was so out of left field it startled Evan into asking, "What expression?"
"Oh, the whole, I'm fine, no need to worry about me. What me, bleeding? I especially love the Colonel's aw, shucks, me passing out, that's nothing to be concerned about," Carson lightly taunted.
And darn it, Evan couldn't prevent the smirk from pulling onto his lips. "He does have a whole repertoire, doesn't he?"
"Aye, and I bet you saw your share today?" Carson gently prodded, knew a lot about other people's lives being in his hands, their medical condition deteriorating and his job to either heal them or stop the downhill decline of their health. Like the Major had had to do today with only rudimentary medical training, little to no medical supplies, no medical team to support him and all while predators were stalking them. Carson's heart went out to the Major, didn't begrudge Lorne's doubt in his 'all will be well' diagnosis for his CO. Fear didn't just go away because of some cheery predications from a good meaning man sporting a medical degree.
Evan stiffened at Carson's insight, tightly answered, "Yeah, I saw a few of those expressions." But Carson didn't make a reply, left silence reign, and Evan fell right into it by dishearteningly declaring a few moments later, "But mostly he was in too much pain to pull it off."
And Carson sighed, nodded his head, hated when that was the case. Because Lt. Colonel John Sheppard being in too much pain to effectively downplay it, that was one of Carson's worst days. And he had had his fair share, no, too many of them. As had John's team. And now the Major had joined the ranks. Instead of standing there like he was about to lecture the Major, Carson claimed a seat on the bed beside Evan, which had the Major's head snapping to him in surprise.
"I'm not military, I joined the Stargate program to save people, heal people, even alien people," Carson began looking at his hands before looking to Evan. "But I've failed, on too many occasions already. Hurt people I was trying to save, missed things that had dire consequences, thought I was doing something for the good but it was used for evil. I'd blame it on the Pegasus galaxy but I'm thinking it's more a war thing, isn't it?"
The doctor's confession and then his insight had Evan's jaw clenching and his throat thick. So he simply nodded his head. Beckett's situations, he knew them well, had experienced most of them, either in Afghanistan or in the fight against the Goa'uld.
At Evan's nonverbal agreement, Carson continued, his tone sympatric but truthful, "Guess I'm part warrior then, because I'm sadly getting to accept that things like a "boring" resupply trip can turn deadly, how guilt can weigh you down when you've done everything in your power to do the right thing. Major, I can't imagine how hard this day was on you but you did save the Colonel's life."
But Evan was shaking his head, "No, his team did. If they hadn't arrived…sensed Sheppard was in danger…"
Carson didn't let him get far down that line of thought. "Lad, I'm the one cataloging the Colonel's harms, I know how old each is, I know how long it takes for blood loss to claim a life, how shock can settle in, not to mention the bloody clawed beasts you tangled with can shred apart muscles, crush bones, tear apart a human body. Without you, the Colonel would have died within an hour of the original attack." At Evan's shocked but protesting expression, Carson stressed, "Even if he woke on his own, tried to treat his wounds, he wouldn't have been able to stop the bleeding on his back, and alone, without someone there with him, chances are high he would have succumbed to shock. Even someone used to wounds like the Colonel can only combat shock with assistance, support, knowing someone's there with him, that there's hope for his survival. Plus with Sheppard, knowing that someone was counting on him, that he needed to protect you, his determination to not leave you alone…behind, there was no way he was going to give up because giving up on himself would have meant giving up on you and he wouldn't do that."
"I know that," Evan hoarsely agreed. Had faith in that all day long, that John wouldn't bail on him, and when his team arrived, he knew Sheppard wouldn't quit on them either. And maybe that was why he found himself afraid now. Because there was no threat looming over their heads for Sheppard to defend them against, that John might not fight for himself like he had fought for them. "But now…" it was hard to word that, to insinuate John Sheppard might quit.
And a light bulb seemed to go off for Carson and he smirked, "Ah, you think he'll let down his guard, now that the danger's over."
"The danger's over for me, for his team…not him, is it?" Evan pressed, didn't want things to be sugar coated, wasn't assured by them.
Carson couldn't refute the Major's statement. "Yes, he's still in danger." Saw Evan's shoulders slump at the news but he quickly tacked on, "But he knows Atlantis needs him, that his friends, aye, his family needs him. That the danger of clawed beasts attacking might be over yes, but the wraith aren't going away, that our lives are in danger. And I've come to know that, John doesn't sit out a fight. He'll not sit this one out, will beat the infection, the fever and his own pain into submission and he'll do it because he knows we need him to stay with us, simple as that."
Evan didn't dispute Beckett's insight, could see it was the truth. Was strangely the truth he had been trying to get through John's head all day long. He gave a chuckle of surprise which earned him an eyebrow of inquiry from Beckett. "After the Koyla showdown, Sheppard thinks his team sees him as suicidal. That they don't trust him any longer to keep them safe. That he's so reckless he'd rather die than protect them, than stay with them. And here we are, knowing in our heart of hearts he's going to fight, wouldn't dare leave us, wouldn't let us to face the wraith without him."
Carson's features had crossed from surprised exasperation to relief as Evan talked, understood at the end what had made Evan chuckle in the first place. Sheppard doubted their faith in him, their trust in him to stay with them, to survive, to protect them, doubted what none of them did. "I admit freely that I was shook up after witnessing the Colonel engage in a wild west gunfight with Koyla. Especially after so many bloody bullets impacted off the Colonel's personal shield only for it to flicker out as the last bullet bounced off. We thought he was a dead man, then he wasn't, and then he challenged Koyla…and when the gun shot sounded…my own heart barely started beating again, I swear it didn't until Koyla fell and John didn't."
"So you do know the kind of day I've had," Evan smart mouthed back and Carson had to smile and chuckle.
"Aye, guess I do. But none of us think less of him for any of that, more actually," Carson concluded before confessing, "Though I could do with a whole lot less of the fearing he's going to be taken away from us."
Evan sighed out a "Ditto, doc. Ditto," letting his exhaustion bend his head down and the emotional strain of the day's events seep into his eyes.
Witnessing Evan's lowered barriers, Carson hopped off the bed and faced his patient. "Well from personal experience, keeping a healing Colonel Sheppard in line takes a village, so I suggest you let us tend to you proper then you take a wee nap and get your strength up Major. Because it seems you've gone and done it."
With a look of confusion, Evan demanded, "Gone and done what, Doc?" fearful that he had made another mistake he couldn't take back.
But the doctor smiled before he answered. "Got yourself inducted into Sheppard's little family. So let me be the first to caution you, it's no small task reigning in a hurting but fidgety Sheppard. It's not for the faint hearted."
Evan smiled in relief, that consequence for the crap day he had had was more than acceptable to him, even as he gave a mock objection. "Why do I think this'll take more courage than the Air Force or Stargate Program ever asked of me?"
"Because you have good instincts, Major. Now lay back and let me give you a once over," Carson began and then he was examining the Major himself while keeping up a litany of words in his Scottish brogue that eased more of Evan's tension.
Though keeping John alive had been his sole responsibility earlier in the day, now Evan had a whole city willing to pitch in and safeguard the man who had always protected them with his life. And that was reassuring, but more so was the fact that he wasn't going to be pushed aside to just be a spectator, would be there with John, with John's team and Dr. Weir. Could see John was going to be ok with his own eyes, not through a third person mediator which was how it happened so many times before. Course maybe that was because Evan hadn't been on the receiving end of John Sheppard's brand of loyalty before, hadn't thought he was going to die and have John save his life and endanger his own in the process. But he was going to be in good company, with Carson, Ronon, Teyla, McKay and even Dr. Weir. It was a club already. The 'John Sheppard nearly died saving my life' club. Some people were members and they had no clue, like every soul on Atlantis, but Evan wasn't oblivious, knew neither were the other golden tier members. They knew what their survival had cost John, had almost cost them and the ones that loved John.
It made him want to apologize to Doctor Beckett, to the others, for what he almost lost for them. It wasn't his choice, was John's, but still John was hurt because of him, in place of him. Evan said instead to the still fussing doctor, "He got hurt saving my life. The stiver was attacking me and he…jumped in its path."
"Sounds like him," Carson demurred like it was a chapter and verse he had heard before as he examined Evan's pupils reaction to light, determining if the knot on his head lead to a concussion.
"He just won't accept it," Evan bitterly grumbled finally snagging the doctor's full attention to look at him.
"Accept what? That he's not invincible?" Because hadn't Carson tried to drill that into the good Colonel time and time again. If the Major wanted to give it a go, he'd gladly let him but Evan's comeback was with another description.
"Not invincible. Irreplaceable," Evan corrected then blushed knew he was sounding melodramatic, like a nerdy stalker or a soldier blinded by hero worship. But Carson didn't laugh at him or belittle the pedestal he was putting John Sheppard on.
"Oh, ah, that's the harder one," the doctor sighed, regret in his tone, in the set of his slumped shoulders. That was the golden ticket prize, to get that knowledge into the Colonel's headspace.
"You said he wouldn't give up, wouldn't leave the fight but that's not the same thing as him knowing his worth, is it?" Evan asked, already knowing the answer. If John had known his worth, he wouldn't have doubted his team's steadfast trust in him, wouldn't have thought to slip out of the city without telling anyone, tag along on Evan's mission, get himself between his 2nd in command and sharp teeth and sharper claws, would have stayed here on Atlantis all safe and sound. It had been the thing Evan thought of the most throughout the day: That John didn't have to be there, he shouldn't be wounded, his life shouldn't be in jeopardy. He was at the wrong place, at the wrong time, had made one seemingly inconsequential decision and it almost cost him his life.
Studying Evan, guessing where the Major's thoughts were, Carson patted Evan's shoulder. "He might not grasp his worth…so it's a good thing we do." Knew that John's stubbornness to not give up, to defend his family, Atlantis to the end was worlds away from accepting what shambles his loss would do to the lives of the ones who loved him, to the city that idolized and survived and hoped because of him. "It's a back and forth thing we do, he saves us, we save him. He and McKay started it and the rest of us jumped in with both feet. You'll get the knack of it…well, you've already had a crash course."
"So what you're saying is, buckle up, things don't get smoother from here on out?" Evan questioned, had kind of hoped this was his one and only turn to have John Sheppard's life solely in his hands.
Carson did chuckle at that, asked with an incredulous smirk, "Smoother? With looking after Colonel Sheppard? I seriously need to get a scan on your brain because apparently it got scrambled today."
Evan good-naturedly swiped away the doctor's teasing reach for his head. "Ok, I got it. Air turbulence is part of the package."
Then Carson met his eyes steadily, seriously inquired like his answer would carry a lot of weight to it, "Are you up for that?"
"It wasn't in the Stargate Atlantis brochure but…" Seeing that Carson wasn't into light hearted banter, wanted a truthful answer, Evan gave it to him. "I wouldn't have signed up for the Atlantis program or to be his Second if I wasn't. I knew the type of man I would be reporting to and I'm honored. But, I gotta say, I'll never turn down reinforcements like I got today with his team and you and your team."
"Like I said, it takes a village or, in this case, an entire floating city to try and keep Colonel Sheppard out of trouble and in one piece." But then Carson sobered, knew that wasn't always possible, hadn't been today. "But sometimes that's not possible. Sometimes we just have to be satisfied with a happy ending."
Evan hated to be a pessimist but just had to be sure, ask one more time. "So he's really going to be ok?"
Carson wasn't offended by the Major's doubt, knew it was coming from a place of deep concern for Sheppard. Heck, he had had much worse tongue lashings from the likes of Rodney when he was in a panic over Sheppard's wellbeing. "Well, let's make a deal like I usually have to with Colonel Sheppard. You take a nap and when you wake up, I'll let you see him and you'll see for yourself that's he's going to be just fine with some time."
And Doctor Beckett lumping him in with Sheppard's stubbornness, it strangely made things better, eased some of Evan's worst fear. "Sheppard always said you were crafty, know I know why," Evan chided back but with a twinkle in his eyes.
To which, Carson chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment. Now rest up, lad. I was entirely seriously about you helping keep Sheppard in line until he's healed."
"Why don't you assign me an easy task, like befriending all wraiths," Evan quirked and Carson smirked as he left. And as Evan closed his eyes, he sensed the doctor wasn't wrong, they were going to be ok, they all were because Sheppard was going to be ok. John had fought long and hard to get home and he'd fight to be back on his feet standing by their sides in any fight that lay ahead. It was just who he was.
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TBC
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More to come! And I promise John is in the next chapter! Hope you tune in.
Have a great day!
Cheryl W.