oOo

Ch 8 Vigil

John

"Here! Over here!"

In the darkness, he could see ghostly figures advancing. He saw the outline of the jumper behind, it's engines humming and lights glowing, as if shining through mist. The figures were lumbering from side to side, obviously weighed down by equipment and dark against the light spilling from the open hatch.

"Glad you could make it, doc."

He couldn't remember when he'd been so relieved to see someone.

" Is'at... Cars'n?"

"Aye, laddie, we'll have you fixed up in no time."

Boxes and bags were dropped, their packs were whisked away... the fire doused. Lights flickered on. Carson knelt on the wet ground but paid it no heed. His hands were already moving questingly, his staff cutting away McKay's clothing and substituting warmed blankets and IV lines.

"Now, Rodney, tell me how you feel. Can ye open yer eyes?"

Rodney's eyes remained closed, but he managed to gasp out an answer.

"C-cold... think 'm... dying."

There was a ripple of disquiet through the small huddle of people, and Carson's face betrayed his concern.

"No, Rodney, you're not. But let's get you on some oxygen... it'll help yer breathing."

All was business and action, and through it all John sat motionless, cradling a damp head in his lap.

It was a cold night. He hadn't noticed it before. He could see his breath, feel his shirt cling icily to his back.

Lorne stood away, near the jumper and was talking into his radio. John saw him nod and then look up into the dark sky, as a second jumper sped by, towards the city.

The engineers... good, he thought.

Teyla was there too, next to Lorne. They made brief eye contact and Teyla flashed him her usual dazzling smile, today though, tempered by worry.

Suddenly the chatter around him dissolved to nothing and was replaced by tight expressions and purposeful actions; the mood had changed dramatically in an instant.

"What is it?"

Carson shot him a worried look, but said nothing.

"Carson?"

The doctor was up to his elbows in a holdall. He pulled out sterile packs and tubing. There were clipped exchanges between the medical personnel.

John caught the words, cyanotic, cavity and drain. None of them sounded good.

He realised, belatedly, that Rodney had also gone quiet. In the glare of the portable lights, he saw that McKay's lips were bluish beneath the oxygen mask, and that now he hardly drew in breath at all.

Panic gripped John...

"Rodney? Hey!"

Suddenly, there was Carson, leaning in close.

"Colonel, it's okay. We know what to do."

Carson had grabbed both his arms and locked his eyes with John's. Still though, in the periphery of his vision he could see green sheets being laid, hear gloves snapping on and then watched as a nurse swabbed across Rodney's belly with iodine.

"I need to know, son... can you stay for this or do we move ye?"

"What..?", the words puzzled John, and he shook his head slowly.

"We can't wait - Rodney can't wait. We have to go in now and relieve the pressure. D'ye understand, John?"

Beckett's expression looked doubtful, and he began to turn away, "Janine? Get the colonel -"

"No... I'm staying, doc.", he said, and tried to will his determination across to Beckett.

"Okay", answered the doctor, and then Carson's hands latched onto his own, and firmly he felt them being pulled down to rest on either side of Rodney's head.

"Hold him still. Talk to him.", and Beckett moved away.

Distantly he heard someone say, "Doctor, there could be movement in the wound..", and Beckett's terse reply, "We have to risk it. This lad's out of time."

Putting all else from his mind; the freezing cold, his cramping legs and especially the surgical intervention unfolding right in front of him, he hunched forward, dropping his head and focussing only on McKay.

Sheppard swallowed, and looked down at his team mate. He found Rodney's face screwed up tight, his lips bluer still, and his breaths, when he had them, rasped and choked; tears leaked from the corners of his eyes... he was obviously terrified.

"I know you're scared...", he let his eyes drift up, but then snatched them back down again, not wanting to see what was going on.

"Hell - me too... But you're almost through this, almost home. Don't give up. We're all here for you. Carson... Teyla... Lorne... Me. Fight McKay... don't stop fighting..."

There was no response from Rodney during all this. Then, suddenly, he flinched and a huge shudder ran through him. John could feel it in his cramped legs and under the fingers that held Rodney's head.

There was a collective sigh from the whole surgical team, and after a long moment, Carson announced, "Well done everyone. Let's get him home."

It was incredible... Rodney breathed easier, his colour was returning.

Oh, Thank God, he thought.

"You can let go now, John. We're moving him."

John looked up to see Beckett kneeling next to him again; the doctor's gloved hands were red, and now, after everything, this was enough to turn his stomach; suddenly, he wanted to throw up.

Sharply, Carson asked, "Are you alright? Look at me", he ordered.

He felt Rodney lifted away, even as he blinked and focussed his eyes to stare at Beckett, blankly.

"Janine... warmed blankets for the colonel and I need a core temp, please."

Something was poked in his ear, and a warm weight settled on his back and shoulders; the warmth seemed to burn him.

Carson laid his fingers against his wrist, and tutted loudly, "Did you know you were borderline hypothermic? Silly lad, too busy watching after your friend to notice.", but there was no real sting to his words.

The doctor began rubbing at John's blanket draped arms briskly, still kneeling in front of him.

"How is he, d-doc?", and at last he felt the shivers begin.

"He's holding his own... he's a tough old bird, that one. We'll know more when we get him home"

The nurse was unravelling a mask and tubing, and Sheppard realised who it was for.

"What's this? I don't need..."

The doctor interrupted him, "We have an extra O2 warmer, so you may as well use it."

The mask was over his face in a flash, and as the nurse adjusted the straps, John peered over Carson's shoulder and saw McKay being loaded into the jumper; an entourage of medics and their equipment followed him in.

"Now, d'ye think ye can stand?" Carson looked dubiously at Sheppard's crossed legs. John followed his gaze, and nodded his answer.

"It's okay, I can do it... my butt's numb and frozen to the ground... but I'm good."

But, apparently, either Carson didn't hear him or he simply didn't believe him, because in seconds he was being hauled to his feet by two strong arms, one on either side. He looked to his left and saw Lorne.

"Shouldn't you be flying, Major?", he asked as his legs folded and swung disconcertingly under him as the two men took all his weight.

"Yes, Sir, I will be... but first I'm getting you on board", replied the major, and John could see he carried the oxygen tank.

They made their way slowly to the jumper, John's legs burning and tingling as feeling returned. They were almost there when suddenly, he stopped.

"Wait... Carson... Rodney's umbrella... and his pack.?", turning back, he scanned the area around the smouldering fire for their stuff.

Then Lorne said, quickly, "I have both yours and Dr McKay's packs, Sir... in the jumper"

"But the umbrella?", he persisted.

John did not miss the confused looks exchanged by his two helpers.

A shadow passed them and stooped near the fire.

The figure approached and now John could see, by the light of the jumper, it was Teyla.

She rolled up the umbrella, popped the stud, and handed it to John.

"Now we have everything important...", and her eyes flickered meaningfully to the open hatch.

"Now... we can go home."

oOo

TBC and thanks for your reviews!

Just so you know, I have no real medical knowledge... sorry!