Part 8 of 10

I have to work tomorrow and thought of making you all wait for this part but then decided to be nice…sort of.

Hope you're enjoying it, thanks for the reviews!

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John recognized the sounds first- the shuffling, beeping, the low hum of machines and the soft restrained whispers. Despite the roaring in his head, he knew immediately where he was—even before the smells hit. God, how he hated the infirmary.

Reluctantly,he forced heavy eyelids to open and blinked against the sudden brightness. John tried to push himself up, to sit up, but a wave of nausea and dizziness dropped him back against the pillows.

"Ugh," he groaned, scrunching his eyes closed again. He felt like he'd just stepped off of a tilt-a-whirl after a sadistic carney had left him on it far too long…going backwards. Add a dozen elephants dancing on top of his head and…

"You should keep still."

Teyla.

Very cautiously John turned his head in the direction of her voice. "Did Carson knock me out?" He tried again to open his eyes and frowned. Why were there two Teylas? Not that he'd complain but still that couldn't be right.

The Teylas smiled at him. "No. You collapsed on your own."

"I collapsed?" He cringed.

She nodded.

"Crap."

He closed his eyes again. It was too hard to keep them open. He felt Teyla's warm hand on his forearm and tried to remember what all had happened, but everything was jumbled and disjointed. He remembered the tunnels and the tremors. He remembered Mara…how can anyone forget her? He remembered climbing steps and carrying something and then wondering what Lorne's team was doing there.

He remembered hearing some smart ass Marine respond, "We're rescuing you, Sir." And he'd argued that he was perfectly capable of flying the jumper home and then…nothing.

"I can't remember." His voice grated his own ears.

"You were injured more seriously than you told us," Teyla reprimanded softly. "You have a concussion."

He blinked at her as the bed seemed to tilt beneath him. "Just a concussion?" He wondered out loud.

Teyla's smile faded to concern. "It is a severe one."

"Great." John tried to focus. There was something dancing around the edges of his memory. Something other than his head or the double vision or the constant vertigo. "How?" He looked at Teyla again, focusing until she began to meld into a single form again.

"You were injured during a tremor in the tunnels." She was being extremely patient with him and he wondered if maybe he'd asked these same questions already.

Concentrating, he reached up, intending to rub his head,but Teyla caught his hand and held it firm. A white bandage wrapped around her palm.

Tunnels. He'd been in the tunnels. Why?

Pieces of a puzzle flashed like bursts of light in his mind. As much as he wanted to just let go and slip back into the comfort of darkness—he refused to give up. He could hear Carson's frantic voice echoing in his mind. Frantic, urging someone to hurry and to be careful not to jar him. Him. Rodney.

"McKay?" He tried to sit up again, fear pushing him past the pain and vertigo but Teyla was quicker. With strong hands she held him down.

"He is being cared for," she whispered.

John searched her face. There was something wrong, he knew it instantly. "What's wrong? How bad is he?"

Teyla shook her head. "You need to concentrate on getting well yourself. Rodney is in the best of hands."

"Beckett's?" He remembered now that Carson had been hurt in the tunnels, too.

"He is assisting as he is able," Teyla assured.

"How bad is it?" John demanded harshly.

Sadness filled Teyla's expressive eyes; her shoulders dropped slightly. "I do not know," she admitted. "Carson spoke of many things. Bruising, a fractured ankle."

"What else?" There had to be something more, he could tell from Teyla's whole posture. What was wrong with Rodney?

"Dr. McKay has a head injury as well…"

"And?"

Teyla blinked rapidly before answering. "He will not wake up."

John was halfway out of the bed before Teyla even realized what he was doing. His momentum carried him upright, but it was Teyla's strong grip that kept him from continuing on to the floor.

"Colonel."

"Don't tell me to stay in this bed." John's whisper was desperate and pleading. "Where is he?" He demanded as he pulled his IV out and tossed it aside. The alarm blared behind them.

"This way." Teyla motioned toward a quieter section of the infirmary that John recognized as one Carson usually reserved for more serious patients.

Rodney wouldn't wake up.

John let Teyla support him. "How long?" he asked still whispering. "How long has it been?"

"We returned to Atlantis two days ago." Teyla shifted her arm around his waist. "You have been conscious a few times but never…"

"I wasn't all there?" John interrupted.

"You were not."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Carson met them at the small partition that served as a separation for that section of the infirmary. His makeshift sling was gone now, replaced by a bright blue cast that went from his hand to just below his elbow. "Are you mad?"

"Furious," Sheppard flashed a stiff smile. "Where is he?"

There was a moment when he feared Carson would stand his ground and refuse to let him in, but then despite his obvious anger, Beckett seemed to see his need to get to Rodney. Shaking his head, Carson moved to John's side, ready to add his support to Teyla's if it was needed. "I swear,I'm going to start putting all of you in restraints," he mumbled.

It only took another few steps for Carson and Teyla to get John into the bed beside Rodney's. He tried to insist on a chair,but one look at Carson's expression and he let it go. "I'll not have you falling out of a chair because you're just too bloody stubborn to admit you're still as dizzy as hell," Beckett ranted as he motioned for a nurse to start a new IV and shoved John back against the pillows. He paused and caught John's gaze. "You should have told me how bad this was." He gestured toward Sheppard's head.

John shrugged. "Nothing you could have done." He ignored Beckett's snort of disgust. "We needed to get Rodney out of there."

Carson glanced at the next bed. "Aye."

John sensed more than saw Teyla quietly slip from the area.

"How bad is he? Really?" John wasn't sure he wanted an answer. As relieved as he was to actually set his eyes on McKay…to see that he was at least breathing on his own… Rodney's stillness unnerved him. "Is he in a coma?" His voice fell to just above a whisper.

Carson closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "It's complicated," he admitted. "He's got some swelling that we're keeping an eye on, but we're seeing small improvements. If they continue, we won't have to operate to relieve the pressure. If he worsens…"

Beckett stepped closer to Rodney and pulled the one blanket further up on the scientist's chest. Fiddling with McKay's IV line, he straightened it and patted the lax hand once before turning back to John.

"What about you?" John motioned to the blue cast.

"It's a hairline fracture, my wrist, nothing for you to worry about. Now rest," he ordered, scratching under the edge of the cast. "And stay put."

John looked over at Rodney. "I'm not going anywhere."