Thanks to everyone for the great reviews. RL has been insane with the holidays...so I'm going slow with this story. And, to be honest, I almost ditched it but a few people have kicked me so I'm slowly getting motivated again. I have another story idea eating away at me but have vowed to finish this before I start that one. So be patient. Thanks again for your support:D Oh...and I'll be having help to finish this one. Kodiak bear has consented to help me. YAY!
He saw everything through a haze of red. He saw people that seemed strangely familiar. Moving about, interacting. Living life. Then he saw death and bodies littered everywhere, footsteps imprinted everywhere, red tracks moving in endless circles. Blood flowing freely.
He felt pain and it dissected him. It burned him from the inside out, searing away his skin.
He clung to his sanity, all the while wondering if he had ever really been sane. Or maybe what he experienced now was the true reality. The doubt and fear and wonder and all the other emotions were just props. Reality was feeling nothing.
"Colonel!"
The voice was familiar. He knew the voice. But John didn't want to follow it. He was floating now, drifting in cool darkness. There was no more pain, just quiet stillness.
"Colonel...if you can hear me I need you to open your eyes."
"Is he breathing?" asked a deeper voice.
John wanted them to go away but he knew they wouldn't. He could hear the urgency in the first voice and suddenly he remembered. The virus that was killing them. Teyla. John forced his heavy eyelids to open even as he croaked out Beckett's name.
Carson looked surprised but relieved, a hand going to John's wrist, fingers taking a pulse. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"
"Been...better," John whispered, then a tickle formed and he started coughing and that made every muscle in his body ache. Then Beckett was there with a water bottle and John managed a tiny sip. He tried turning his head but it felt too heavy. "Teyla?"
"She's not doing well." Carson looked dejected.
John closed his eyes a minute then forced them open again. "How...how long was I out?" It surprised him how weak his voice was, how weak he felt.
Carson glanced at his watch then said, "It's been about three hours."
"That's all?" John was surprised. He thought for certain that days had passed.
"That's all," Carson confirmed. His palm pressed flat to John's forehead. "Your fever is still high. I don't think it's over yet."
John wasn't listening. He managed to turn his head, searching the room. Then he called out, "Deyenne!"
She appeared before him, looking worried.
"Am I better?" John asked, knowing they were running out of time.
"Yes. You are better." She moved closer, one hand reaching out to touch his hair.
John felt a jolt of absolute relief, but knew better than to get his hopes up. "Better enough to help Teyla?"
Deyenne drew her hand back, looking grim. "She is fading fast. It will take a few hours for Beckett to make the serum."
"Can I heal her?" John didn't hesitate to ask, hearing Beckett's gasp beside him. Then a heavy hand on his arm.
"You can't do that," Carson stated, emphatically. "You're not strong enough, Colonel."
John ignored him, focusing only on Deyenne. He sensed that she was willing. "If you and Dahvi do your thing, can we heal Teyla long enough for Beckett to make the serum?"
A smile curved Deyenne's mouth. "Yes...but it will weaken you."
"I'll take that chance," John stated, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long time. He turned back to Beckett, seeing the scowl on the other man's face. He glared at the doctor. "Deyenne said we can heal Teyla long enough for you to make the serum." When Beckett opened his mouth to argue, John gripped his arm. Albeit weakly. But he clenched his fingers and locked eyes with Beckett, willing him to understand that they had no other choice. "Time is running out, doc," John said softly. "You need to take my blood and get to work on the serum."
"Aye." Carson didn't look happy about it, but he seemed to get the fact that they had no other options. So he reached for his medical bag, pulled out a syringe, and took John's blood. "I don't like this," he stated, as he capped the syringe.
John almost laughed at that. Almost. "Me either. But we do what we have to do." He made a move to sit up, hating the fact that his head spun and he felt nauseous and his arms trembled so much they wouldn't hold him. If he had enough breath he would cursed, but suddenly strong hands were helping him and when the dizziness passed, John opened his eyes to see Ronon standing there. "Thanks," he said, then he looked at Beckett. "Do what you have to do, I'll take care of Teyla."
Carson looked about to argue, but he nodded instead and stood up. "Be careful," he threw over his shoulder, as he headed for the door.
"Always," John whispered, knowing Beckett couldn't hear him. He then looked at Ronon. "Help me up. I have to get to Teyla." The next thing John knew he was on his feet with Ronon's arm around his waist, supporting him. But he hadn't taken three steps when he knew he wasn't going to make it. His legs felt like jelly and every muscle in his body was refusing to do his bidding. John was so weak it was making him dizzy. "Shit!" He hissed, beneath his breath, only to swallow the curse in a gasp as he found himself swept upwards without warning. It took him a moment to realize he was in Ronon's arms. "Put me down!" John gritted between clenched teeth.
"If I put you down you're going to fall on your face," Ronon shot back, looking unsuitably impressed with John's order.
John knew Ronon was right, but that didn't make him feel any better. "Fine...then I'll crawl. But put me down!" They didn't have time for this.
Apparently Ronon agreed because he simply strode out the door and across the hallway into Teyla's room. Once there he, gently, deposited John on the bed.
"At least tell me I'm heavy," John muttered, as Ronon settled him carefully. It bothered him the ease with which Ronon manhandled him.
"Eat more and you might be," Ronon replied, then he was reaching out to touch Teyla's pale face. "She looks dead."
That sent fear rippling through John. He shifted onto his side and felt for a pulse. It beat weak and thready against his fingertips. "Barely," he whispered, then he lifted his head and was relieved to see Deyenne and Dahvi standing next to the bed. "I'm ready," he told them. A moment later the twins moved to John and took his hands, linking them together. John closed his eyes as they faded into mist and enveloped him. He felt the warmth spreading throughout him and John reached out for Teyla, pressing his hands into her flesh, willing her to heal.
Time shorted out and the next thing John knew Ronon was calling his name. He opened his eyes, searching for Teyla. She was staring back at him. "Hey," he said. "How ya doing?"
"Better," she breathed, but it was obviously an effort on her part to talk.
"Rest," John told her. "Beckett is working on the cure. You'll be fine soon." He watched as she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Ronon moved into his line of sight. "You need to rest too," he said, then he was settling a blanket over John and Teyla. "I'll keep watch."
John nodded, and his eyes were drifting closed when he heard Deyenne's voice in his head.
"Soon, John. Soon everything will be as it was meant to be."
He wanted to reply to that, to ask what she meant, but exhaustion dragged him down into warm darkness.