The Weight of an Oath – Part 9
John didn't remember the remainder of the day and knew next to nothing of the harrowing attempt to escape the scientific facility. In fact, his next memory after arguing with Carson and Rodney about the foolhardiness of "The Plan" was of being slightly sickened by the image of a fast-moving ceiling. The movement abruptly stopped, although inertia kept him sliding forward off of what he could only guess was some sort of gurney. Strong hands grabbed him, and he registered a deep aching in his side before three pairs of eyes stared down at him.
He recognized Carson and McKay's frantic faces, but the third offered only vague familiarity.
He tried to ask who the small woman was, but was capable of only strangled wheezing. Some sort of mask was hastily placed over his mouth and nose, and as oxygen was drawn into his lungs, he felt his head clear a bit.
"Who's…she?" he finally managed to ask from beneath the stifling pressure of the mask.
"Colonel, this is Torca," Rodney said, unceremoniously. "We're in the middle of our escape, so if we could keep any further introductions for later, I think we'll all end up appreciating it," he then added when he saw the woman begin to say something further.
John saw the woman glare imperiously at McKay and realized that the physicist was following his normal modus operandi of pissing off their allies during the worst possible times. John smiled briefly at Torca but was forced to close his eyes when the ceiling started moving again. As he was pushed down a darkened hallway, he could only hope that McKay's penchant for alienating them all from the…well, aliens…wouldn't add any further drawbacks to the already flawed plan.
His next memories were a disorienting blend of movement, strong words, and hurried activity. Nothing made sense until he found himself crushed in a cramped space and slouched weakly against Rodney. He felt pressure on his left wrist and recognized the gentle touch. The solid bulk pushed into his left side could only be Beckett.
"Where?" John asked, his voice an imperceptible whisper. The others didn't seem to hear him, but despite another attempt to make his conscious presence known, he couldn't manage any more words after that. The weakness that had been assailing him for what seemed like days had not loosened its hold on him, and it was a monumental fight just to keep his eyes open. As what little strength he actually had was slowly sapped from him, holding his head even in its current position against a somewhat soft surface suddenly became an impossibility, and he allowed it to loll completely onto Rodney's shoulder.
"Carson, I believe that Colonel Sheppard has awakened," John heard, with monumental relief, the sound of Teyla's voice from somewhere to his far right. He gave silent thanks to the Athosian's extraordinary hearing, because making any further attempt at vocalized communication was going to take a lot more strength than he was prepared to give at the moment.
"Colonel? Colonel Sheppard? Are you awake?" The voice was Carson's.
John abruptly realized that in the confined space with his body slumped away from Beckett's, speaking again was probably going to be an inevitability since the doctor wouldn't be able to clearly see his face and half-opened eyes. He summoned strength he couldn't afford to use and managed to breathe out that one word again.
"Where?"
"In a some sort of car headed towards the Stargate," Carson answered with relief quite evident in his tone.
"A very small car," Rodney grumbled, and John was relieved to hear the sarcastic prattle, relieved to hear the others' voices and to know that at least they were out of that awful place. He closed his eyes against a sudden swell of emotion that was just as suddenly dashed as he realized that there was one voice that had remained conspicuously absent.
"Ronon?" he asked, as his alarm lent strength to his voice. He felt his heart pounding too fast, and the world became a dizzying place.
"Here, Sheppard," the gruff voice came from what he could only assume was the vicinity of a front seat, and John gasped through another strong surge of relief.
"We're all here, Colonel, and for the moment we're all safe," Carson said. "You need to stay calm and rest. It will take some time to reach the Stargate and although Torca brought medicines with her, I don't want to have to resort to using them unless it's absolutely necessary. From what Rodney and Torca have explained of your reaction to the Netharian sedative, I believe that there are differences in our physiologies. If we can keep you from going into shock, I think I'll be able to delay their use."
Beckett's words were only a confusing combination of inconsequentialities to Sheppard. He was still having trouble concentrating and so could not think beyond the relief that his team was safe. Not entirely sure what he was agreeing to, he nodded feebly, and then forced himself to relax. The others fell into silence that John sensed was fraught with worry. Yet despite the obvious tension within the tight space, he had almost been lulled to sleep by the movement of the car when Rodney shifted his body slightly. The change in position forced a series of gasped breaths out of John as a stabbing pain in his side made itself known.
"What? What happened? Oh God! What did I do? Are you okay? Sheppard? What's happening?" John couldn't respond to the litany of Rodney's concerns since the pain had advanced to an outright agony that flared all along his right side. He felt like he was going to pass out again, when the mask made a sudden reappearance and more cool air was forced over his nose and mouth. He breathed it in through staccato inhalations that were impeded by the torture in his side.
But with the administration of the oxygen, his head cleared and he was able to hear Rodney's voice continue its steady stream of worry.
"Is he okay now? I didn't mean to hurt him, it's just that his weight made my arm fall asleep, and I had to move it, and who knew that he was so heavy anyway? Look at him! He's so thin its ridiculous, and completely unfair, by the way. I wasn't kidding when I said before that he eats too much sugar. It's proof that this reality is prejudiced, because if it was a reasonable place to be, he'd be twice the size he is. And why is he so pale, anyway? It's…it's…well, I've never seen anyone who was that color. Are you sure he's…."
"Rodney, shut up!" Carson yelled, quickly quelling what was becoming typical McKay hysteria with skill that would have impressed John if he wasn't in complete misery.
John could hear Carson fumbling around with something, but he was unable to see what was going on since he was still trying to manage the pain that had momentarily stunned him.
"Colonel, I need you to open your eyes for me, if you can," Carson instructed him.
John hadn't actually realized that his eyes were closed, but he attempted to do what Carson asked. It was almost an impossible undertaking, and he considered just giving up and surrendering to unconsciousness. But a jolt from the car, followed by another stab of pain made the job suddenly easier. He groaned, forced his eyelids open, and blinked against the sting of sweat that rolled into his eyes.
"Colonel Sheppard, I need you to tell me what's wrong."
That was Carson again, and although John was more than happy to oblige, he wasn't sure if he was able. He took a moment and finally managed words in a short, whispered, stutter.
"My…my…side…hurts," he said, just barely conveying his distress. He was inordinately relieved when Teyla awkwardly leaned over Rodney and gently wiped the stinging perspiration from his face.
"Torca, can we stop yet?" Carson asked someone John couldn't see, but there was no way that he could miss the urgency in the doctor's voice.
"No, not yet. We are not even out of the limits of the city." The voice that answered Carson was fair and light, and John idly wondered who belonged to it. It took his distracted brain a moment to produce an image of the small Netharian woman. Afterwards he resisted the urge to laugh that was brought on by relief shaped from the realization that Rodney hadn't entirely pissed her off yet.
"Right," Carson sighed, and John had to fight against another urge to laugh at the unsurprised tone. The pain was slowly receding, and he felt almost giddy with its departure.
"Rodney," Carson said, "you're going to have to lift his shirt up and tell me what you see."
"What! Why me! You're the doctor!" Rodney exclaimed, clearly horrified at the thought of performing the task. This time, John couldn't resist the short laughter that bubbled out of him, but it incited more pain and so he quickly put an end to the outburst. "Oh, God, he's delirious!" Rodney exclaimed in a voice more panicked.
"Rodney, calm down!" Carson countered. "I can't reach that side without sitting on him, so I need you to calm down and do as I say." Carson's voice was dripping with last nerve irritation, and John had the sense that the doctor wanted to punch the physicist in the nose. John completely empathized with Beckett and forced down another bout of laughter. Instead of laughing, he closed his eyes again and concentrated on the difficult effort of breathing the cooled oxygen that the mask was still supplying him.
"Fine. Just fine! I'll do it," Rodney snapped unhappily.
John felt Rodney gently lift the shirt he was wearing from his side and couldn't entirely hold back the cry of pain that the slight shifting of the gauzy material caused. He opened his eyes to see Rodney leaning down and guessed that the dim light of the car necessitated a closer look. Rodney suddenly turned a particularly telling shade of green, and John closed his eyes in an attempt to deny the horror he saw on the man's face.
"Oh, that can't be good," McKay eventually said.
"What is it Rodney?" Carson asked grimly. John suspected that the doctor knew the exact answer to that question and just needed confirmation. John, himself, really needed to know what was causing the stabbing pain, but another sudden jolt of the car did him in. The pain grew too strong and took him over and down before he could hear McKay's answer.
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A/N #2: Sorry, I know this was a little bit short, but it was all I had time to write. Plus I wanted to leave a modest cliffhanger. Mwa Ha Ha! Yes, my evil side did that on purpose!