Adrift
Chapter 12
SGA
John's head finally slipped too far to the side, at the very same moment that his feet slipped off the edge of the chair. He jerked awake with a start. He immediately knew where he was though – in the unofficial waiting area of the Atlantis infirmary. Next to him, similarly propped on cushions and chairs was Rodney, snoring softly, his head leant back and a spot of drool at the corner of his mouth.
Across the way from them lay Ronon, settled comfortably in an infirmary bed, monitors bleeping gently around him and a deep rumbling confirming that Dex, always a reluctant sleeper, had let himself relax at last.
And Teyla? Even as he looked around for her, she was approaching with a mug of something hot and steaming in her hands. John accepted it gratefully.
"You look better." She smiled at him.
"Feel it too," John murmured, "and Beckett?"
"Dr Biro said we should be able to see him soon. He came out of the OR while you were sleeping."
"And you didn't wake me?" John couldn't be angry, he understood her reasons – she had made them pretty clear earlier. Though, to be honest, the events of the past few hours now seemed a bit of a blur.
He remembered following the medical team, and the gurney on which he had helped to place Beckett, out of the Jumper Bay. He had been totally focused on the injured man, only peripherally aware of Elizabeth asking him questions – determined to stay with Carson.
But at the infirmary he was firmly intercepted by Dr Biro at her most formidable. Her look brooked no arguments as she pointed out the state he was in, dripping mud, water and blood across the infirmary floor. John had submitted to a medical check-up then, grateful to have the shallow knife wounds closed and bandaged. For once he was happy to have an excuse to remain in the infirmary but Biro, having seen Carson safely into the hands of the surgical team, had turned her attention back to John, demanding that he go in search of a shower, a meal and some rest.
John baulked but the little doctor had made it clear that, if he wanted to see Ronon or Carson any time soon, those were her conditions.
Somehow he had found himself backed to the infirmary doors where he discovered that the Atlantis pathologist had become part of a most unlikely tag team, as both Teyla and Rodney were waiting for him there.
"And just what the hell did you think you were doing? Have you any idea what it is like spending hours thinking that one of your friends might currently be resembling a porcupine while watching the voodoo crowd try and stick another of them back together?"
That had been the start of an extended rant from Rodney McKay, who had simply not paused for breath until John had finished taking a careful shower in his quarters. Teyla had turned up then with a tray of food and had taken over from Rodney in pointing out his foolhardiness. When they left for the infirmary, John was almost expecting a queue to have formed outside his door, waiting to tell him off, led by Elizabeth.
Back at the hospital wing it was clear that she had only left him alone because she had delegated that task to Ronon. Who turned out to be excellent at it. The Satedan, sitting heavily bandaged in a hospital bed, tethered by IV's, had wasted no time in letting Sheppard know all the shortcomings of his strategy, rule breaking and general team betrayal. John, feeling a little punch drunk, had let the tirade wash over him, taking comfort from the fact that, if Ronon could keep growling at him like this, he must be recovering nicely.
John had fallen asleep near Ronon's bed knowing that his team were around him and would be there to support him whatever the next few hours might bring. But he had got Carson home – he was sure that the doc's would pull off their usual miracle cure – everything was going to be OK.
And now Biro was approaching them, charts in hand. The look on her face made John's stomach muscles clench. She was as direct as ever.
"The crossbow bolt, and especially the way it was removed, caused extensive damage to Dr. Beckett's shoulder. There was a heavy blood loss. If you hadn't rigged an IV Colonel Sheppard, he would have never made it to the OR. It took a while to get his blood pressure up so that we could even attempt to repair the lesion – and I should let you know there is still a risk of complications arising from that degree of blood loss."
"Is he going to be alright?" That was Rodney who had woken up and somehow found a mug of coffee.
"Even if he were fit and healthy I could not guarantee that at this stage, but he's been half starved, beaten and kept in poor conditions for a long time. The wounds on his back were infected." Biro grimaced, John could imagine how the medical team had reacted when they had seen what had been done to their CMO.
"He's running a high fever and is on the verge of sepsis. We are treating the infection with everything in our little arsenal but I'll be blunt – if he makes it through the night – well...only then might he have a chance."
She left them then, giving her permission for them to see Carson while she reported to Elizabeth.
John was numb, in shock – after all he had been through, that Carson had been through – it wasn't going to be enough? He might still lose Beckett?
He made his way to Carson's bed with Rodney and Teyla. The attending nurse gave him a tight smile before leaving them with their friend.
Beckett somehow managed to look worse than he had back on the planet. White sheets and bandages only accentuated the paleness of his skin, except where the fever had set flaming spots on his cheeks. The marks of fading bruises and the shadows around his eyes emphasised a new gauntness to his face. He lay terribly still, his breathing so shallow that it seemed only the beeping monitors and the beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead confirmed that he was alive. Teyla took over the task that the nurse had been engaged in, gently wiping Carson's face with a cool cloth, reaching carefully between monitor and IV leads, and trying not to disturb the oxygen mask.
John felt utterly useless – a man of action without anything to act upon. He glanced at Rodney who had a look on his face that John hated to see. That great mind was also at a loss – this was beyond his expertise – his vaulted genius could not fix this.
"It should be one of us there," Rodney muttered, "Beckett fixes us, not the other way round – damn it! This is so wrong."
John silently agreed – he was fighting a sense of aching loss for something that had never existed. How stupid was that? All he could do was watch and wait and see if Carson made it through this long night.
And it was a long vigil. John stayed by Carson's bed – the fact that none of the medical staff shooed him or the others away just confirmed how serious Beckett's condition was. The others came and went. Rodney in search of food that John refused, and Teyla to sit with Ronon. Elizabeth was there for a while too – John finally did his debriefing over the top of Carson's bed. No one seemed surprised that he did not want to move.
And Beckett's condition did not improve despite the frequent adjustments that his staff made. Professionals that they were, they still could not hide their concern from John.
In the early hours of the morning John was beginning to slip into despair and became aware of heavy steps beside him.
"Ronon! Dammit, what are you doing?"
Dex gave him a grim smile and settled heavily into a chair on the other side of Carson's bed, holding his side firmly with one hand and manipulating an IV pole with the other. Sticky marks showed where he had removed his monitor pads.
A nurse was hot on his trail. "Mr Dex I must insist ..."
"Just give me a moment ... just in case."
She was not able to deny him that and with a mutter of "Two minutes then," left Ronon alone with John and Carson.
"You great big idiot!" John did not hide his irritation. "If you bust your wound open again you'll end up like him." Unwanted his voice caught slightly on the last word. He tried to cover it up.
"Sorry – I'm just overtired I guess."
Ronon gave him what could only be described as a Ronon look. He leant forward carefully, placing one big hand over one of Carson's.
"Sometimes it takes losing someone to realise a truth that you have been hiding from yourself. And you regret that loss for the rest of your life. I hope Sheppard, that you have the fortune to discover that truth by only nearly losing someone. I hope he makes it."
Looking into Ronon's eyes John knew then that a deep loss lay in the Satedan's past. He doubted that he would ever discover what it was. He dropped his eyes. Dex had read him too well.
After a couple of minutes he heard Ronon stumbling away, the soft tones of the nurse as she helped him back to bed.
John looked at Carson, hoping to see an improvement, willing the readings on the monitors to leave the red. There was no one to see as he reached out and gently took one of Carson's hands in his own.
No – he could no longer deny the truth of what his heart was telling him. He loved this man. Admitting that to himself had opened a floodgate of emotion that he could not cope with. It was too painful, walls were breaking down that had been carefully built over years – how had Beckett done this to him?
And he was being so damn selfish.
"Get a grip, John," he growled to himself. If Carson died he would have to build those walls again, so high that no-one would ever see through. And if Beckett lived?
The last thing he would need as he recovered from physical injury and possible mental trauma would be the pressure of having John's new fragile, emotional state dependant on him.
Better for him if he never knows. That thought grew clearer in John's mind as the solution to this mess made itself apparent. It was the right idea. He would fight these ridiculous feelings, return to being the John that had served him so well over the years.
He did something then that he had not done for a very long time. He prayed, prayed hard that, if Carson Beckett survived this night, John would spare him the burden of his love, he would never tell him. He would always try and act as a friend, a protector even, trying to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again, but he would allow him to be free.
John fell asleep then, his head resting against Carson's hand, feeling oddly calm. He was woken by the touch of Biro's hand on his arm. He raised his head blearily – the light level indicated that it was morning. He quickly glanced at Carson, fearful of what he would see. The doctor was resting peacefully, the flush of fever was gone from his face.
John looked up at Biro standing next to him – she was actually smiling.
"I think ... that he is going to make it, Colonel. He's in a stable condition now, with all the readings moving to a healthy level."
She nodded with satisfaction and moved off to go over the monitors again. John returned his gaze to his friend's face and just sat for a while, feeling content.
TBC
AN: One more chapter to go.