Taken On Trust

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Okay, I'm done with the cliffies now. I'd imagine poor Nelowl is sighing with relief for that ! And for Nelowl, and everyone else who have kindly stayed with me, this chapter finally brings us all a bit of light relief. Yes, Laura's about to hear all about her beloved's first flying lesson. Poor Carson - and that goes double, of course, for his teacher... ;o)

Enjoy !! And thanks so much for the continuing reviews, they've been much appreciated !!

Chapter Eight

Reason To Believe

It was a nightmare. Some awful, impossible nightmare that would end when she opened her eyes.

Except Laura Cadman knew her eyes were already open. It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. Undeniably, horrifically real.

Kate Buchanan had prepared her, as well as any friend and doctor could, for the brutal horrors that awaited her – her arm the first to slip around Laura's shoulders as Marine-muscled legs suddenly turned to rubber.

It still hadn't been enough.

Only yesterday, she'd watched Carson leave for Vora as the picture of cheery health, but now…? Broken and bloodied, his abused body cocooned in wires, tubes and cables, she barely recognised him

Somewhere beside her, Kate was speaking again, explaining, as best she could, the horrors before her.

"I know how upsettin' this must be for ye, lass, but everythin' ye see is working together to help him. After suffering such severe trauma, and prolonged surgery, Carson's body needs time to recover. That's why we're keeping him on life support here, until… well, until the risk of complications has passed…"

It was the speech she'd made, countless times in her career, to shellshocked friends and relatives. Few had been able to ask the next, most logical, often heartbreaking question. With, it seemed, nothing more to lose, Laura Cadman took a deep breath, and shakily asked it anyway.

"What – What complications…?"

Seeing the determination beyond her unspoken fear, Kate sighed while thinking out her answer. She'd made that first speech so many times over the years, she had it down to a sadly fine art. This second one, though...? Even after twenty years as a doctor, it was one she still silently dreaded.

"Well, aside from the external knife wounds, Carson's also been bleeding internally…" she said at last – keeping a consoling hand on Laura's shoulder as, with sadly earned skill, she quietly broke the rest.

"The most serious injury was a tear to his spleen, which caused slow but prolonged haemorrhaging. That's why he's been in surgery for so long, and why I put that order out for emergency blood donors. That's also why he's on the respirator. At the moment, Carson has no ability to breathe on his own. It would place far too great a strain on his heart, and the rest of his body in general, for him to even try. As for complications… well, as with any major surgery, there's always the risk of infection. So we've also put him onto powerful antibiotics, to control any contamination as much as we can. Of course, his temperature is bound to rise anyway, simply from what his body's going through, and…"

Laura nodded dumbly, her eyes still fixed on the barely recognisable figure before her. She was still finding it impossible to believe that it was really Carson lying there in that bed. Her cherished Carson, always so strong, so alive – now needing a machine to keep him that way.

To the compassionate eyes of Kate Buchanan, she needed something to hold onto. A spark of hope. In fact, everyone in that room, everyone on Atlantis, needed that precious anchor to hold onto now. Just the faintest chink of strengthening hope to bring them through the terrifying night to come.

"I know it's hard to believe now, but Carson has a lot of advantages on his side..." she said at last, casting a smile of inspiring encouragement towards each and every shell-shocked face around her. "He's physically strong anyway, and fit, and… well, we all know how bloody minded he can be…"

Rewarded, albeit barely, with wry nods of agreement, she then gave Laura the very gentlest of hugs.

"And with you, lass, he has all kinds of good things to look forward to now. So many more reasons to live. He thinks the world of ye, lass, and… well, ye dinnae really need me to tell you that now, do you…? And I know ye love him too, just as much… there's somethin' very special, lass, between ye both. That's why it's so important for ye to talk to him, Laura, as much as ye can, even though he can't respond. Remind him of all those dreams and hopes ye have, all the plans you'd made before this happened. As I say, he won't be able to respond, and it may seem pointless, but believe me, he can still hear ye. If Carson knows you're with him, lass… aye, he'll have the best reason in the world to come back…"

Laura nodded once more – finding, though God knew where from, the strength to return Kate's smile.

Within seconds, though, already fragile walls of self control came tumbling down around her. Then the dam burst, and Laura Cadman started to cry, all but collapsing into John Sheppard's arms. Beyond all reach of the comfort he tried to offer her, she cried as if her very soul was breaking.

beep… beep… beep… beep…

At first, Laura had hated that sound. She'd hated its artificiality, relentlessly invading her thoughts. She'd hated its clinical monotony, constantly reminding her of the precious life which it represented.

As that first, seemingly endless night had gone on, though, so hatred had given way to near gratitude. All the time she could hear that slow, methodical sound, it had meant that Carson was still there. That somewhere among all the tubes and wires and monitors, his traumatised body still fought for life.

beep… beep… beep… beep…

Now it had become Laura Cadman's friend. It lulled her to sleep when exhaustion finally claimed her. It reassured her with its precious, life-confirming sound when, as now, she drifted back to wakefulness.

beep… beep… beep… beep…

Now, as before, she'd woken praying that the first sight she'd see would be those incredible blue eyes. Or a shy, adorably dimpled smile. God, how she yearned to wake to his gentle, wonderful smile.

For now, though, she'd have to settle for seeing those beautiful eyes and that heart-melting smile in her safe world of dreams.

The eyes that met hers in reality were mossy green, clouded by the same terror that haunted her own. And while welcome and comforting, the smile was not the one she wanted so desperately to see.

"Cadm- Laura… you really should get some rest… some proper rest…" John Sheppard said at last, rising from his own seat to come and crouch beside hers, all military protocols long since forgotten as he squeezed her hand. "I'll sit with him for a while. If there's any change, I promise I'll call you, straight away, and…"

Shaking her head, Laura forced herself up in her chair, wincing as stiff muscles twinged in protest.

"No, sir, I have to stay with him…" she insisted, hoping her smile had taken the edge out of her words. "I – I just can't leave him, sir… not – not while he's like this. I – I just have to stay with him…"

Knowing better than to argue, not having the heart to even try, John smiled back at her, then nodded in the same gentle understanding. He was military too, after all. He'd seen, all too often, his comrades left to die in silent, isolated terror.

Having been through the same battle himself, he was damned if he'd let Carson face this one alone. And the least he could do was lift some of its massive burden from his young lieutenant's shoulders.

"He seems to... um... be rallying a bit… doing... well, doing a little better..." he went on, indicating the monitor next to Carson's bed.

"Yes, so Dr Buchanan told me this morning…" Laura's smile widened in open, unashamed relief – joining her CO in watching that precious signal make its slow, steady way across the screen. "Now they've managed to get his temperature back down again, he's doing much better…"

John didn't reply this time, simply nodding once more while he continued to study the banks of monitors and machinery at Carson's bedside. He couldn't see it himself, the various 'thunks' and beeps and jumping lines meant little to him, but - well, if Kate Buchanan had said there'd been an improvement in Carson's condition, he was damned if he was going to argue. And after last night, John Sheppard would take any hint of improvement that he could get.

The infection, traced back to the chafing cords which had bound him, had set in yesterday. And in Carson's already weakened state, the fever which had followed had nearly proved fatal.

They'd come damn close to losing him the previous night – hence Laura's refusal to leave his side.

Now, at last, there was a glimmer of hope. A welcome, if still only slight, sign of improvement. A sign which John Sheppard was determined to build upon as he glanced across at Laura and winked.

"Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I took Carson out for his first lesson to fly the Jumpers…?"

Genuinely grateful for this welcome distraction, Laura smiled tiredly back at him and shook her head.

"I get the feeling I'd remember if you had, sir…"

"Yeah, there's a spot on the south pier that's still missing its paint…" her CO retorted just as dryly, casting Carson a smile of brotherly affection as, passing Laura her coffee, he settled back in his chair and shrugged.

"To be fair, he really wasn't that bad… well, once I'd managed to persuade him to open his eyes and... well, once I'd got him actually moving..."

It felt odd, and it felt wrong. But Laura couldn't help but laugh this time, almost choking on her coffee, as her proudly relieved CO settled back to relate yet another colourful tale of the misadventures of Atlantis' most reluctant fighter pilot.

"Yeah, once he got moving, he was fine... it was just getting him to stop which was kinda hard, but... well, I guess that's where inventing the first emergency stop in space came in kinda handy..."

By the time John finished relating that landmark experience, both he and Laura were laughing out loud - so much so, in fact, that a subtle change in sound and rhythm around them went unnoticed.

beep… beep… be-beep… beep… be-beep… beep… beep…

He was starting to look human again. More like her cherished Carson, less like his half dead shell. Although he was still deeply unconscious, the death-like greyness of his face had subsided a little.

The respirator was still there, but it was now a means of gentle assistance rather than a necessity – as Kate Buchanan now explained, with cautious optimism, to the now familiar group around her.

"Carson's trying to breathe on his own now, so we're going to reduce the sedation, just a bit at a time. Once we're satisfied that he's strong enough to manage fully without it, we'll take him off the ventilator. That'll probably happen tomorrow, provided he's still stable. He's still critically ill, of course, but… well, things are looking rather better for him now. Certainly better than they did last night…"

"They certainly are…" Laura agreed, her pride at Carson's courage and resilience there for all to see as she gently brushed his hair back from his forehead.

The proud smile, though, didn't reach still troubled eyes as her concerns now shifted elsewhere – to the bitter, furious anger which her overloaded mind simply hadn't had time to consider.

"I – I just can't believe what those – those bastards did to him… what they planned to do to him…"

Realising the strength of both her words and her language, she then awkwardly met her CO's eyes – so very relieved when, instead of the rebuke she'd dreaded, she found a nod of agreement instead.

Even Elizabeth Weir's soft voice conveyed the same understanding – the same underlying anger.

"Believe me, Lieutenant, we all feel the same way. In fact, I've already alerted Stargate Command. The only teams they'll send on the Daedalus now will be to find and release their other prisoners…"

She could have said more, offered comfort from what a shaken Steven Caldwell had told her – the perverse comfort of knowing that his teams had found over a hundred of those prisoners so far, and still counting.

Men, women, even children, from all over the galaxy had suffered the same betrayal of their trust.

She'd said enough, though, she knew, as all eyes returned to the only prisoner who mattered to them – the one who'd dominated their thoughts, haunted their terrified minds, for the last three days.

Yes, he was still alive, fighting to stay with them. But Carson Beckett was still a heartbreaking sight. Surrounded by monitors, snared in a spider's web of tubes, cables and wires, he lay totally lost to them

The bruising which had already marbled his body had deepened now, painting him in silent suffering. A deep gash along his left cheek, bridged by strips of plaster, was a mass of swollen, marbled skin. The rest of his face was obscured by a mass of twisting pipes which, in turn, fed into his mouth – each measured push of oxygen sent through them forcing his chest to rise and fall in steady obeyance.

And the rest of him…? The dressings across his neck and collarbone, covering the knife wounds below…? The bruising across his stomach…? Another mass of gauze marking the site of that endless surgery…? Well, those signs of suffering were just too much for an exhausted, disheartened Laura Cadman to take. Too much for her to cope with.

Instead her eyes drifted back again, to tearfully study the face she'd fallen so instantly in love with – trying to convince herself that, under all its swelling, bloodied stitches and bruising, her Carson was still there.

She had to let him know she was there, too, however unlikely it seemed that he'd be able to hear her

"I'm here, baby… it's okay, Carson, I'm here… it's okay, you're safe now…" she whispered softly, leaning carefully closer to place the very gentlest of kisses against Carson's other, deathly pale cheek.

"You're safe now, and you're going to come through this… you'll come through this, you hear me…? However long it takes for you to get there, baby, whatever it takes, you're going to come through this. And I'll be there with you, Carson, I promise you… every step of the way, I'm right there with you…"

Anxiously watching his face for any reaction, Laura didn't notice the reactions on others around her – the proud, re-strengthened smiles which now lifted at least some of the worry from six exhausted faces

Nor did she feel, within the confines of her own, the feeblest twitch of a single, gently trapped finger.