Hey, I'm starting to get notifications again! Thanks to everyone for the reviews, my muse is now officially phyched. She insists that we really don't need to work to today. /snorts/ It's still my plan to be finished by Halloween. But yes, this story has officially spun out of control. I do know where it's going, but since I never actually planned for Teer to be in the story... well, you see my problem.
It had to be a record. Almost exactly 20 minutes from the time he'd been released, they were wheeling John Sheppard back into the infirmary.
The wound wasn't that serious. It would require stitches and it would be rather more painful than the colonel might expect. But he'd be back up and around soon enough.
No, it was the why of the injury that concerned Carson. The colonel really wasn't one to have stupid shaving accidents. It was true he could be a might careless about his personal safety when other lives were at stake. But to cut himself shaving? Not bloody likely.
It was also obvious, at least to Carson, that the man hadn't been trying to kill himself. John Sheppard was a professional soldier who knew exactly where the jugular was and how to cut it. If he wanted to kill himself, there wouldn't have been a damn thing Rodney McKay could have done to stop it. There would have been nothing left for a doctor to do but make the final declaration as to the time of death.
No, whatever had happened in that bathroom, John Sheppard hadn't been trying to kill himself. Unfortunately, they weren't going to be finding out more until the man himself regained consciousness and that was something Carson could do something about.
His staff set about following his orders as fast as he could give them. It gave him a certain amount of pride to see them work, to know that he was responsible for these people, this team. He left the colonel in their care, knowing that when he returned his patient would be ready for him.
He turned to his other patient. While Rodney had no visible wounds, the fact that he hadn't said a word since they'd entered the infirmary told Carson more about his physical state than an exam.
Rodney sat on a bed opposite Sheppard's, staying out of the way, letting the medical team work. He may revile medicine as voodoo, but he always knew when to stand back and let them do their work.
"Is he going to be alright?" Rodney asked anxiously, his fingers tapping restlessly against the bed. The scientist was covered in Sheppard's blood, but he didn't seem to be aware of it.
"Oh, aye," the doctor did his best to reassure him, "he'll be fine. Do you have any idea what happened?"
Rodney shook his head but then said, "I might have some ideas."
"Ideas?" Carson prodded. It was clear that Rodney really wasn't paying attention, he was focused on the colonel, watching every move made by the nurses as they went about their business of caring for him. He took Rodney's pulse, it was a little fast, but that wasn't unusual for the hyperactive scientist.
It caught his attention though and that had been Carson's intention. Rodney jerked his hand away, "I need to do some research before I know anything. Shouldn't you be taking care of the colonel?"
"Aye, I will. I just wanted to make sure you're alright. You should go shower and change, it will be awhile before the colonel wakes up."
Rodney waived him away, "I'm fine," he declared, the irritation plain in his voice. Carson knew he wouldn't be prying anything out of the scientist before Rodney McKay was good and ready. Satisfied that Rodney really was alright, the doctor started to go back to the colonel.
"Carson?" Rodney caught his sleeve.
Carson turned back with an upturned eyebrow.
Rodney had crossed his arms and was glaring at the doctor, "Sheppard didn't try to... you know..." he graphically illustrated drawing a blade across his own throat.
"Aye, I know that," Carson answered calmly.
"Because he wouldn't do that..." Rodney continued not really listening to what Carson had said.
"I'm agreeing with you," Carson cut him off before he could get really warmed up.
Rodney sat with his mouth open for a second, no words coming out before he snapped it shut with an audible click of his teeth. "Good," he said at last. He jumped from the bed. "I need to go check some things out, I'll be back before he wakes up." He headed for the door without waiting for an answer.
"Go shower and eat something," Carson called after him. "I don't need you in here as a patient, too," he muttered under his breath before he turned back to the friend he could actually help.
John found himself back at the deserted compound. Time had passed. The buildings were more worn with no one there to repair them, shutters were hanging precariously, there were gaps in the stairs where wood had rotted away, spiders had spun their webs across the doorways. He knew if he thought about it he could figure out how many years had passed in the three days he'd been back in Atlantis. He just didn't care enough to do it.
He walked down the path between the houses. The remains of their last meal was on the communal table they all had shared. He remembered sitting at the table with Hedda at his side, trying to tell the people of the sanctuary about thunderstorms. It astounded him that they were so anxious to ascend without ever really experiencing life at all.
He'd never considered ascension for himself before he came to the sanctuary. He'd read about it in reports at the SGC before he stepped through the gate to go to the Pegasus Galaxy. He knew about Daniel Jackson and what had happened to him. John had met Daniel Jackson once or twice. He thought the man a little insane anyway. He was a bit like McKay – passionate and talking too fast, but he didn't have the snarky wit that made Rodney so much fun.
After six months in the sanctuary, listening to the people there talk about nothing but ascension, John knew it wasn't for him. He loved life too much –he loved flying, feeling the gs push his body into the seat, the thrill that came from knowing that if he didn't do everything exactly right that it would be his last flight. He loved surfing, feeling the way the board moved beneath him, figuring the angles so that he could ride the wave all the way. He loved…, god, everything. He had known that he faced a life alone if Teer and her people ascended before he was rescued, and yet, he would have stayed, waiting for a rescue that might never come rather than give up his life to live as an ascended being.
He found himself outside of Teer's house again. He climbed the steps and they creaked under his footsteps, giving dangerously under his weight. When he opened the door, it screeched loudly in protest. Inside, it was like no time had passed whatsoever. It was pristine and clean, maybe Teer had a maid service.
He spotted the crumpled note where he dropped it. He picked it up and smoothed it out.
John, was written in Teyla's distinctive style, Dr. McKay says that you have been caught in a time dilation field. He had many long, difficult words to explain this, but I think, simply put, that time will pass for you faster on that side of the doorway than it does for us. I wish you to know that Dr. McKay is putting all of his effort into rescuing you.. We will not rest until we have found you, John, so you must not give up hope. Even when it seems like there can be no more possibility of rescue, we are still trying. Hang on to that, John.
Teyla Emmagin
He could almost hear her voice, it made him smile,. He folded the paper in half again and laid it on the table.
"What are you doing, Teer?" he called to the air. He knew she was listening. He had felt like he was being watched ever since he had found himself in the compound.
"John," she materialized sitting in the chair next to him.
He backed away.
"You do not need to be afraid of me, John," she said with a small smile.
"I wouldn't say I was afraid of you," he told her coolly. "I'd call it a strategic retreat. The last time I saw you, you tried to kill me."
She cast her eyes down demurely, "I am sorry, John. I was angry."
"But you're not now?" he asked cautiously.
"I may have overstepped my bounds," she said primly, her hands tucked into her lap.
John wasn't buying the demure act anymore, but she seemed willing to talk.
"Yes, about that. I thought you were ascended."
She smiled, "And I am, John. It is as wonderful as we had always thought it would be. We hold the power of the universe in our hands, ours to wield as we will." Her smile turned predatory.
"I thought the ascended had rules?" He was sure he'd read about there being rules in those reports at the SGC.
She didn't seem to like that. Her smile disappeared, her lips pressed together in a disapproving slash, "It is true that there are certain standards that we are expected to adhere to." It didn't appear that she liked adhering to those standards, however.
"Such as not torturing your former lover," John knew he was probably playing with fire here, but he couldn't help himself. He seemed to have a knack for saying the wrong damn thing and now was not an exception.
"Lover, John? Is that what you were?" She stood and seemed to glow from the inside. Fire indeed. "Or was I just a substitute for all that you missed, all that you wanted back in your precious Atlantis?"
"Teer, I'm sorry.." he started, but now there was no stopping her.
She flung out a hand and he flew backwards to hit the wall. Hard.
"You will not speak," her voice was deep and there were definite glowy tendrils floating around her.
John found himself pressed against the wall. An invisible hand pressed him there, holding him. It pressed harder and harder, squeezing the air out of him.
"Does it hurt, John?" she screamed at him. "Have you ever known the pain of loving someone who doesn't love you back?"
"Teer," he gasped, trying to drag air into his lungs even as the hand was doing its best to squeeze it back out.
"No, of course you have not," she answered her own question scornfully. She crossed the room to stand in front of him. The air shimmered around her and she solidified back into the shy demure Teer. She placed her hand on his cheek tenderly. He wanted to jerk away, but he was held in place. "But you will see," she said softly, "you will come to love me. You will ascend and we will spend eternity together." She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "Or I will kill everyone you have ever loved."
Then she was gone and John slid down the wall, gasping for air as the darkness folded in around him.
In the infirmary, Carson was almost finished up with stitching the colonel's wound when the man arched up on the table.
"No!" Sheppard screamed before dropping back to the table. He was pale and lifeless. The heart monitor Carson had hooked him to just as a precaution beeped once more then settled into a flat line, its monotonous tone filling the doctor with dread.
/innocent blink at outraged readers/
What? Did I forget to issue the evil cliffie alert? Mwhahahahaha!
To be continued...