A/N:
Thank you so much for the extremely flattering reviews! And I'm incredibly sorry for the delay – so much for writing fast as lightning – but Real Life had me in its tightest grips and wouldn't let me have a minute for myself or writing fanfiction. For sticking with me nonetheless, I reward you with an exceptionally long chapter, which was once more kindly betaed by TCB 0.5 in the not-so-early hours of the morning.

XI

After an eternity, in which time seemed to have come to a halt, the initial shock had subsided but the pain ran deep down to the core and vehemently refused to ebb away. Hours had passed since Dr Gitano's bluntly delivered news. They had steeled themselves for the worst but nothing had happened so far; therefore, they all had settled down again. With grim faces they stared at the motionless figure of their friend or way beyond.

John could see it in their faces; they all reflected on their friendship with the gentle Scot, or in his case, on the general unfairness of what seemed inevitable now. 'Beckett of all people didn't deserve this. Carson was such a kind soul and passionate healer; he would even put Mother Teresa to shame!'

Involuntarily Sheppard remembered their first encounter and couldn't suppress a faint snicker. When he had approached Beckett in Antarctica, he had felt like smacking him over the head for his boasting about the incident with the drone. But he had immediately taken to the man as soon as he had angrily glared into those deep blue eyes while the physician had stammered a heartfelt apology with his thick Scottish brogue. 'Holy heaven, Carson could kill someone with his patented lost-puppy-look!'

Lazily the colonel looked at Ronon's angry stance. It was his turn now to pace the immediate vicinity of the bed like a caged cheetah, impatiently clenching and unclenching his fists. Obviously the Satedan was ready to explode; but lacking an enemy to fight against, he had no idea whereto he could direct his rage. Hell, John himself knew the feeling of furious helplessness too well.

When the time for breakfast came and went, still none of the team made any indication to move from Beckett's side. They were hungry alright, but they would be damned if they put their own convenience above the care for a close friend.

All of a sudden, Ronon's expression relaxed considerably and the faintest of smiles crossed his face. Puzzled by his strange behaviour, John and Teyla slowly turned their heads in the very direction. They didn't see what had attracted the Satedan's attention, for their view was partially blocked by the curtain. To everyone's surprise, two figures entered the small cubical, nurses Betsy Alighieri and Raphael Wilder, both carrying a tray laden with seemingly everything the mess hall held for breakfast.

"When his shift ended, Dr Gitano told us to get you something to eat if you hadn't done so by now," Wilder answered their questioning glances. He was an easy-going young man, who shrugged off any stress with a cheerful smile.

"Thank you", Elizabeth replied.

The nurses set the trays down on the night stand and left. As if starvation had been close at hand, the five of them turned on the piles of food, annihilating every single bite in the process.

xXxXx

An hour later, when Dr Cole checked the vitals, Teyla spoke up. "It is time to prepare the ritual."

Sheppard, McKay and Ronon looked completely at a loss what to make of that statement, but the two women nodded in agreement.

"I will explain later", was all the young Athosian said. With that, Dr Cole retreated to Carson's office while Teyla and Elizabeth headed out of the infirmary, leaving three most amazed men staring after them.

When the two of them returned again, John, Rodney and Ronon doubted their eyes. The expedition leader wore the long light turquoise dress Teyla had held the ring ceremony for Charin in. Since Elizabeth was taller than the other woman, the dress was a fair bit shorter on her but she looked stunning nevertheless, as did the Athosian warrior, who wore a light green dress that went down to her ankles. Upon passing the CMO's office, Samantha opened the door and pushed out a handcart with several earthen bowls, a gigantic white candle and a huge transparent receptacle. Her lab coat was gone, and she sported a dark red linen dress, which ended just below her knees.

The waiting men gaped with eyes wide as saucers, and their curiosity was beyond measure. Beaming mischievously, the approaching women obviously enjoyed their big entrance to the full. John's ears turned red, and Rodney looked as though he might fall over any second; only Ronon at least tried to keep up his tough image.

"Gentlemen", Weir greeted.

"I think I owe you an explanation", Teyla began. When she had finished, neither John, Rodney, nor Ronon seemed too happy. Not that they distasted the idea of the ritual – which frankly was also a factor for the astrophysicist –, actually, both John and Ronon thought it was a neat and thoughtful gesture. Yet that they were essentially shoed out of the infirmary for the duration of the ceremony because it was strictly reserved for women, didn't agree with them at all. Truth be told, this had the sour taste of being left out and excluded from the family.

"Please. It is of vital importance that you leave. And the ritual will take less than an hour, I promise", Teyla pleaded, hoping for acceptance.

"I can understand that you are unwilling to leave Dr Beckett now of all times", Dr Cole admitted.

"We all know", Elizabeth's sympathetic voice soothed.

"Dr Beckett's condition hasn't deteriorated in the last few hours. But I won't gloss things over. It is still touch and go, but he is bravely holding his own for the time being."

The three women looked expectantly at the men in front of them. For any beholder it gave the impression of a stand-off, a stalemate of sorts. The moment lasted for a minute or two, and neither party was willing to back off an inch. Yet at last, reason won over hurt feelings.

"Fine." Sheppard gave in reluctantly and stormed out.

With a grunt Ronon followed close behind. McKay pondered his move an instant longer before he too exited the infirmary mumbling misgivings on the way.

"We will call you immediately…", Weir began.

"Whatever!" Rodney was gone before Elizabeth could finish her sentence.

Teyla stared down to the floor, dismayed. She had hoped for a different reaction from her team members. But it didn't matter now. This wasn't about them, this was solely about Carson.

Together they put the receptacle, which was about two square-feet big, on the ground. Beside it they assembled the bowls and the candle, then knelt down around it. Leading the ceremony, Teyla faced the bed while Elizabeth and Samantha were on the left and right side of the transparent vessel. Carson in his bed represented the fourth side.

Solemnly the young Athosian reached for one of the bowls and slowly emptied it.

"This is our Mother Earth."

The soil built a small mound inside the receptacle. Then she took the second bowl.

"This water is the well of life."

Gently the fresh water flowed around the mound. She took the last jar, reached inside and produced from it a small amount of shining red powder, which she scattered on the summit of the mound between three fingers. After that, Teyla reached for the candle and placed it on top of the powder, firmly pressing it down to guarantee stability. She lit a match and set the candle aglow.

"The fire, which in taking gives."

Protectively the Athosian held her curved hands over the candle and lightly puffed in its direction while the flame became brighter.

"The very air we breathe

Surrounds us

And protects us

If He please."

When the candle was fully aglow, Teyla held out her hands for the other two women to take, creating a circle, they joined hands and closed their eyes. The Athosian quietly started to sing. Her soft clear voice filled the infirmary and rang out to the corridors beyond.

In the moment of weakness

In the moment of pain

In a time when all hope seems lost

Strength may come to the one who needs it most!

xXxXx

Not having missed Ronon's suppressed anger, John knew exactly where the warrior was headed to and led the way. He wanted nothing more than beat the crap out of someone or something, and sparring with the furious Satedan was the right thing to do when he wanted to blow off steam.

A decision the pilot regretted dearly when he rubbed his sore arms and back twenty minutes and a number of painful work-overs later. Ronon could be a brute in any training session, but when he was seriously pissed, even the Terminator wouldn't have been a match for the former runner. Sheppard had never stood a chance against him, and the man hadn't even meant to hurt the colonel.

John crawled away from his friend, who had gone berserk on him just a few times too often, and defensively raised a hand to let Ronon know he didn't want to continue the unilateral fight. Certainly he initially had had something different in mind than having beaten the living daylights out of him.

"Did I hurt you, Sheppard?" Dex looked down at him with a mixture of amusement and concern.

"No." Getting up, the pilot tried to keep his dignity intact as best he could. "I just need a short time-out. Why don't you go torture one of the dummies in the meantime, big guy?"

Ronon looked slightly offended by that comment but turned away and began to rough up a near sand bag. Watching the scene for a moment, Sheppard realized the Satedan had actually attempted to restrain himself while sparring with him. If the sand bag had been a real person, John was convinced that even a brilliant physician like Beckett would have had a hard time patching them up again. 'Okay, so much for getting off steam', he thought. 'Where had McKay gone anyway?'

xXxXx

Being rudely expelled from the infirmary, Rodney had wandered the corridors of Atlantis in search of some other place where he could feel close to his friend. Finally, he found himself at the door of Carson's quarters. Hesitantly he opened it and entered. The sight and the returning memory momentarily knocked the wind out of the scientist. The room was empty. Nothing reminded of its inhabitant anymore. How could he have forgotten? Tears welling up in his eyes, McKay thought of the awful and thankless task of clearing his friend's quarters and packing his personal items into boxes. It had ripped out his heart that day. And it did so now.

Eying around the deserted room, he was overwhelmed with emotions. In the night, Dr Gitano had told them that Carson was dying. In this place it felt like he was already gone, or had never been here at all. Reflecting on the irony of today being Sunday again, he chuckled mirthlessly. A few moments Rodney struggled for his composure before letting himself sink on the sheetless bed and allowing the tears to flow freely.

When the tears stopped at last, McKay had set up his mind. His despair was replaced by determination. The rational part of his mind, which usually dominated all his actions tried in vain to convince him that it was nothing but a waste of time and effort. But no matter how bad the prognosis was, no matter how futile it seemed or how great the likelihood of having to undo his action was, now it was the right thing to do. He sluggishly got up and started to unpack the first box. He concentrated on meticulously recalling where every single item of Carson's stuff had been. To make it his friend's quarters again, he needed to put everything back into the right place.

A sudden chime of the doorbell made the physicist jump from his work. 'Who the hell could that be? What would anyone want in Carson's quarters? And what was more, why would that person bother to use the doorbell?' A second, more persistent chime rang through the room. Irritably Rodney walked over to the door and opened it to find Colonel Sheppard standing in front of him.

"What are you doing here? And how did you know I was here?" the scientist inquired.

"Just a hunch", John answered evenly as he entered. But McKay no longer paid him any attention. His eyes had fallen on one particular item inside one of the boxes instead, and he stared at it in amazement before returning to his task. Sheppard shrugged and silently joined his friend.

xXxXx

One and a half hours later both men got back to the infirmary. Just like when rearranging Beckett's belongings, they didn't talk. Ronon, Teyla and Elizabeth, who had changed into their usual clothing, shot them a quizzical gaze.

"Where have the two of you been?" Weir asked straight away. "We almost posted 'missing' notes on the milk packages in the mess."

Not exactly in the mood for good-natured teasing, neither Rodney nor John graced the question with an answer.

"Anything?" Sheppard asked instead.

"No, no change at all", Elizabeth informed them rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly.

The pilot took a seat next to Teyla, his anger at the Athosian had subsided completely. McKay on the other hand approached the bed and fumbled inside his jacket, struggling to get something out of one of the pockets. Cursing under his breath, he produced a small, bright yellow plush turtle with a lime green shell and a cute embroidered face. It was the turtle Laura Cadman had sent on the Daedalus to Atlantis, telling Beckett she had assumed care for his little pets after his unexpected and hastened departure to the Pegasus Galaxy. That overjoyed smile plastered on Carson's face upon receiving the message was still vivid in their memory. The physician had been guilt-ridden for days on end when he had believed he had left his 'poor wee buggers' to die.

"Here, this is for you. Brings you luck, you know." Swallowing hard, Rodney gently placed the soft, one ft. turtle next to Carson's head on the bed and gave it a tender pat on the shell. Yet immediately, his face became stern again, and he looked intently into the Scot's face as if waiting for a reaction. With an accusatory tone in his voice he continued, "You know, me and flyboy here spent the last two hours stuffing back your things in your quarters."

Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon threw the newly arrivals a questioning glance but said nothing. John nodded briefly.

"You owe us something for that." The physicist's voice rose to a scalding shout, "So don't you dare die on us, you stubborn Scottish sheep-cuddler!" After a long pause he added firmly, "And we really have to talk about that skirt you're hiding in your room."

Dr Weir and the colonel burst into a laughing fit. Even Rodney was now unable to keep his face straight. Poor Ronon and Teyla had not the slightest idea what they were sniggering about. Particularly the Satedan was quite disturbed at the thought of the doctor wearing a skirt. In his mind he filed it under 'Sometimes the Lanteans are strange'. John looked at him and doubled over laughing. Ronon shook his head. 'Indeed, sometimes the Lanteans were very strange.'

xXxXx

All except for Ronon had fallen into an uneasy slumber and silence had embraced the group when the heavy steps of a bulky man closed in, at a distance followed by the light steps of a woman. Despite his appearance, the man attempted to tread softly, for he knew too well how exhausted they all were from staying at Carson's side. Dr Jollet checked the readings thoroughly and frowned. He had expected a slight change but nothing like that.

Although he at first had made an effort not to wake anyone, he realized this development couldn't wait. They needed to know, now. He noisily and dramatically cleared his throat. The colonel and Miss Emmagan instantly jumped to their feet, alarmed. Dr Weir blinked sleepily and sat up while the astrophysicist didn't stir at all. The French physician just wanted to repeat his action but the pilot was faster. He stamped his right foot heavily on the ground and hissed, "McKay!"

"What?!" Rodney was awake in a heart beat. "Oh", he then mumbled with resignation. From experience he knew, this didn't bode well. Panic made its way up his throat.

"Well, what is it, Doctor?" Elizabeth crossed her arms, suddenly feeling cold. This was definitely not the time to exchange pleasantries.

To their utter surprise the expression on the physician's face softened, and for a change, a warm smile reached his eyes. "Dr Beckett's heart rate has improved to an almost normal frequency. The fever has gone down, and we were finally able to get a grip on the infection." He sighed. "I can't promise you anything just yet, and he is by far not out of the woods, but if his recent progression is any indication, Dr Beckett might even pull through."

Dr Jollet let the words sink in and watched their facial expressions lighten up, going from deepest worry to incredulity to utmost relief. This was certainly the kind of news he loved to deliver.

"Thank goodness!" Weir exclaimed with a relieved sigh. The unbearable tension was broken like it had shattered on the ground, and everybody dropped to their chairs beaming with delight. The joy they felt was almost tangible.

Not wanting to disturb their privacy any longer, Jollet turned to go. Right after he had drawn back the curtain, someone pulled him into a fierce hug. Since her shift had ended hours ago, he realized that his colleague had obviously also kept vigil over the CMO. He lightly patted her back.

"I know, Sam. I know…"

To be continued…