Chapter Eleven

Beckett's return to consciousness was a violent one. Where most would have let the darkness fade to gray and then to white as they were finally forced to relinquish their dreams to the light, the darkness was pierced by the face of a woman with white hair. At first he didn't know who she was. But that didn't last long. Jerking awake with a full body spasm, Carson looked around in a panic. The world was dull and slow and far away to his vision and hearing. But he was in the familiar surroundings of his infirmary. With terrifying clarity, his last moments of consciousness replayed themselves.

Hearing his cardiac monitor beeping in tune with his rapidly increasing pulse, Carson fought to shake off the effects of whatever drugs they had given him. Pain flared in his arms, chest, and back. His head throbbed in tune with the heart rhythm as it continued to pick up speed. He hadn't even had a chance to work his way upright when the curtain was thrown back.

"Doctor Beckett, stay still. You're in the infirmary," nurse Sheedy said, trying to calm him down. "You're safe."

"I know where I am," he snapped. "Where's Alex?"

"Sir, just relax, I'll get Doctor—"

"I'll not 'just relax'. Tell me—"

"Quit making a fuss, Doctor Beckett. Alex is fine, thanks to you," Doctor Knightley said moving back the curtain.

Hearing this, Carson relaxed slightly. But the careworn, ragged look of Doctor Knightly did nothing to instill confidence.

"Where is she?" Carson asked.

"She's fine. I have her in the third ward under constant observation."

Throwing back the sheet and biting back a curse Beckett said, "I need to see her."

Her obvious irritation finally snapping, Doctor Knightley asked, "Do you trust me?"

Beckett stopped as he turned his piercing blue stare on her. "Of course, I do."

"Am I competent?"

By this point a slight crowd had gathered to peek in and check up on the beloved doctor.

"Don't be silly buggers."

Crossing her arms and glaring at her boss she asked directly, "Then for what reason do you feel the need to attempt to get out of that bed while loaded on dilaudid and having enough stitches to compete with my niece's first rag doll just to see to her care?"

Carson's face went stony. He knew she was right. Without help he was likely to land face-first and tear most of the many sutures. But in his drugged up state, he didn't dare open his mouth where something could slip that he wasn't ready to address yet. He watched as Rebecca's eyes widened slightly as she seemed to see something. She uncrossed her arms and took a quick look around.

Turning to all the staring faces she said, "Don't all have something better to be doing?"

Taking a hint, they all scattered with warm smiles for Carson as they passed. Taking the curtain in hand, Doctor Knightley pulled it all the way around back to the bed so she could get to the door controls. Closing the door so they would have complete privacy, Knightley turned back toward Beckett and crossed her arms again, this time looking more contemplative than confrontational.

"So it's like that, is it?"

"Excuse me?" he asked red-faced, not liking where he thought this was going even in his drugged state.

"Don't play that game with me, Carson," Rebecca said, stepping up to the right side of his bed. "I was there when you met Perna."

"I beg your pardon?" he said dangerously, struggling to sit up.

"I was there after, too," she continued.

"Are you questioning my professionalism?"

"No. But I am questioning your judgment at the moment."

Carson's reddening face went white as the tug of the wound under his left arm froze him in place, not daring to even breathe for a moment.

"Go ahead. Hop on out of that bed. If you can make it all the way to the third ward and into her room, I'll put your bed right next to hers," Rebecca taunted.

"How dare you—" he cut off as another twist of pain ripped through his chest.

Taking a syringe out of her pocket, Doctor Knightley waved it in front of him. "You're a bit overdue. But if you feel well enough to cross the infirmary, I don't see why you'd need this."

"You're a bloody sadist!" he snapped, finally relaxing back into the bed.

She waited a moment to be sure he wasn't going to continue being totally pig headed. Satisfied, she said, "Good. Are you ready to listen, now?"

Carson glared at the ceiling in bitter silence.

"I'll take that as a yes," stepping closer to the bed, she took Carson's hand in her own. "I'm happy for you, Carson. If anyone deserves a little happiness in all we deal with, it's you."

This seemed to startle the stubborn doctor into actually looking at her. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I'm sensing a 'but' here."

"Are you sure she's ready? Emotionally or mentally?"

Sighing, Carson turned his gaze back toward the ceiling. "No. And that's why I've not said anything. You'll not let on, either," he warned.

"I won't. Just be careful, Carson, for both your sakes. I like her. I wouldn't want to see her hurt any more than you."

"Aye."

Taking the syringe back out of her pocket, she reached for his IV, "Now that that's over…"

"Dilaudid?" Carson asked.

Rebecca nodded, unscrewing the cap.

"Don't."

She raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"I need to clear my head. A couple of Vicoden will be enough. You're right. I'm not thinking clearly. What's the damage?"

She glanced to the syringe still in her hand, but respected his wishes. "As I mentioned, you've got enough stitches to make any rag doll proud, but none of the wounds by themselves were life threatening. Mostly deep slashes with a few shallow punctures; so no serious damage. You lost seven pints of blood before we could get the bleeding under control. You have a mild concussion from where he hit you with the knife handle to get you out of the way, I assume, though I haven't seen the video. I had to confirm it with Colonel Sheppard. The one stab wound on your back was shallow due to stopping on the bone." Carson winced as he remembered and didn't need to guess how long that was going to hurt. "And one deeper stab wound under your left arm. Amazingly, it only barely punctured the chest wall. No damage to your lung or arteries."

Taking all this in, he recounted those desperate seconds. In his mind he knew it could not have taken more than a minute. But it seemed like an eternity. Seeing his expression, Rebecca laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"You saved her life, Carson."

Coming back to the present, he focused on Knightley. "You said she was recovering? How?"

"Well, from what I understand, she saved your life, as well. There were just two knife wounds. The minor one was a long, jagged gash on her back. The other entered under her right arm and puncturing her lung and nicking an artery. It was bad, Carson. I don't think anyone else would have survived."

Keeping his peace, Carson waited for the rest.

"As soon as I got here I checked her over and realized the wound in her back showed signs of regeneration. I picked up where you left off. I pumped her full of as much nutrients as I could and just tried to keep her alive. She crashed twice, but she's stable, now."

Rebecca ran a hand through her auburn hair. The dark bags under her eyes seeming all the more prominent. Beckett wondered when the last time was she slept.

"She's in bad shape, Carson. But I believe we're past the worst. She should pull through. There's nothing you can do for her in your condition. I know what I'm doing, thanks to that surprise she gave us the last time. Trust me, and let me take care of her. As soon as she's on her feet, I'll bring her here to see you."

To this Carson grunted. "That's assuming I'm not out of this bed before she's out of hers."

Smiling at his feistiness, Knightley said, "We'll see, then. In the meantime, you can't tell me a couple of Vicoden are going to cut it. You and I both know you're in enough pain to not be able to sleep. You're likely to die of boredom sitting in a bed with nothing to do while in pain. And I won't have you giving orders from your bed. So let me give you this so you can sleep until the worst of the swelling goes down, at least."

Nodding in resignation, Carson relaxed back onto the pillow as she injected the clear liquid into his IV line. The warmth spread throughout his entire body in seconds. Almost before she had the door opened and the curtain pulled, he was sleeping peacefully.

~o~o~o~

The next day started quieter than they had known in a little while. The city almost seemed to be waiting in breathless anticipation for the next wave of events that would send them all scrambling again. Instead, life went on. Sheppard enjoyed his morning run with Ronon, Weir had a peaceful breakfast, and the rest of the city just hummed with low whispers of what had actually taken place.

Some said Alex had gone back to being Wraith and they had her in the prisons again. Other said she tried to murder Beckett, and most definitely did kill Sergeant Holmes. Many still believed she planted the bomb in the mess hall and it just went off too soon. The stories circulated around and around the city growing darker and gorier with each retelling. But no matter which version you heard or believed, Doctor Beckett's pet Wraith was behind it all and the bodies were stacking up.

Overhearing a handful of scientists at the table behind him in the mess hall during the lunch rush, Sheppard was hard-pressed to mind his own business. He wasn't one to typically get into other people's rumor mongering, but this was getting out of hand. In disgust, he finally slammed down his tray and left the mess hall. Heading toward the infirmary, he hoped that the one good rumor he'd heard all day was true. Supposedly Alex was awake. And, to his amazement, Beckett was still in his bed in the infirmary; though that may have more to do with the drugs they pumped into him to keep him quiet.

Hearing voices coming from behind the sheet to Carson's room, Sheppard knocked on the wall beside the curtain.

"Colonel Sheppard," Carson called, an edge of something in his voice that John couldn't place.

"Hiya, Doc," he started, moving aside the sheet.

The three tense faces that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. Beside Carson was a young nurse looking frantic. Carson's pale visage seemed almost desperate. And Knightley's lips had been pressed white.

"You've got perfect timing, Colonel. We've got a problem," Doctor Knightley said, putting a hand on Carson's leg to forestall him.

"What kind of problem?" Sheppard asked hoping it wasn't more hell-bent homicidal psychopaths.

"The Wraith escaped," the nurse said in disgust.

Three sets of eyes bored into the young woman making her visibly cringe, but it was Knightley that spoke in a soft, dangerous voice. "Nurse Yaxley, you're dismissed for the day."

"But—"

"I suggest you leave, now," Beckett said, equally softly.

Sheppard, knowing he had no right to interfere, bit back a few choice words of his own. Once she had marched out red-faced and fiery-eyed, he did, however, say, "You should probably get used to it. There's a lot of it going around." Seeing Carson's furious look, Sheppard raised his hand to stop him. "I'll fill you in later. Right now, what's going on?"

Sighing heavily, Rebecca dry scrubbed her face. Only now did John notice how absolutely exhausted she looked. Her cheeks colored slightly as she said, "I fell asleep at my desk. We've had Alex in a separate ward to keep her away from any prying eyes. She was recovering, more like regenerating, I should say. But she was still in pretty bad shape this morning. I fell asleep working on a report. I couldn't have been asleep more than a few minutes, though. She must have stolen some scrubs and slipped out a side door."

"How long ago?"

Glancing at her watch she estimated, "Maybe fifteen minutes ago."

While listening to this exchange, Carson had subtly been moving his still throbbing limbs and aching body toward the edge of the bed. "Rebecca, give me a hand. We need to find her. She could still go into insulin shock, or worse."

"You think I don't know that?" she snapped. "Get back in that bed. You're not going anywhere. We can find—"

"Like hell I will," Beckett snapped back.

"I leave you two to work it out. I think I've got an idea, though. No need to panic, yet. I'll be right back."

The two watched as Sheppard ducked back out around the curtain and disappeared.

~o~o~o~

Sheppard already knew where he was likely to find her. The only question was which one. Recalling as much of the layout of the nearby corridors as he could, he found himself coming up short. Giving up, he keyed on his mic.

"Colonel Sheppard to Doctor McKay."

"McKay here. What's up, Sheppard?"

"I need you to pull up the blueprints for level five of the main spire."

"Gimme a second. What are you looking for?'

"How many balconies are there and which one is closest to the third ward of the infirmary's hospital wing?"

"Nine balconies. The closest is at the back of the ward. Should be pretty obvious."

"Thanks, McKay. Sheppard out."

Turning back toward the ward, he stepped into the central room. Nothing obvious. Going to the back of the room opposite the door, he did find a set of controls for a door just peeking out from behind a curtain. He heaved a sigh of relief at finding Alex there, as expected, but curled into a little ball of misery. She was clearly sobbing quietly into her arms folded atop her knees. He wasn't sure if she refused to acknowledge him, or if she simply hadn't noticed. Turning around, he scanned the small, empty ward hoping for a way out. Seeing none, he mentally sighed in resignation. Not bringing along Beckett or one of the others was not his brightest move. He had never been good with this kind of touchy-feely stuff. Hoping he didn't drive her into jumping off the balcony, he stepped out and onto the balcony beside her. There he sat with his back to the open door and his legs outstretched and crossed.

"Nice view," he commented. "I usually prefer the ones on the west side of the tower because they have the best sunsets there. But this is nice and quiet."

Alex gave no indication she was listening, but her sobs did seem to slow slightly.

"I imagine this would be a better view of the night sky as the stars and moons are rising. What do you think?"

Alex appeared to somehow fold. Her legs crossed in front of her, she brought her hands up to cover her face folding her skinny arms at the elbow. At least now she was visibly trying to take control of herself. Only now did Sheppard see the full extent of what they had meant by the regeneration taking its toll on her body. She appeared little more than skin and bones covered in pale yellow scrubs.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" he finally asked as her sobs were reduced to deep breaths.

Again she gave no indication of responding. Irritated now, John said, "Come on. I get it. You wanted to come out here and have a good cry. Can't say I blame you after all that. But you scared probably ten years off Doctor Knightley's life disappearing like that. And Carson's about to tear the place apart."

Finally pulling her hands away, Alex said, "It's Carson. She won't let me see him. She says he's okay, but I don't believe her. I saw what Sergeant Holmes did to him…"

"Has she given you any reason not to believe her?" John asked.

"No," she said, staring at her hands in her lap. "But there was so much blood."

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded, her face scrunched in pain and still not able to face him.

"Then believe me when I say, he's going to be fine. He's gonna have some battle scars to show off to the ladies. But he's a real hero now, scars and all."

She nodded, her entire being still screaming misery.

"What? There's more?" he said, clearly not happy at the prospect.

"How many died?"

"Look, it's not—"

"How many?" she asked more forcefully, still staring at her boney hands in her lap.

"Seven, including Holmes."

Again her face crumpled in misery. "I shouldn't have come. You should have—"

"Whoa, wait a minute," he said, gripping her boney shoulder gently. "We had a deal, and I don't go back on my word. More importantly, this wasn't your fault. Belby and Holmes were a couple of crazies in desperate need of some nice, relaxing hobbies. Heightmeyer must be slipping to have missed that."

She seemed to let this sink in. "Carson's really going to be okay?"

"Yes. He was pitching a fit about your disappearance, last I saw. I think he was about to get himself out of that bed. And I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll take this place apart. He's really obsessive about his patients."

Again Alex seemed to fold in on herself. The tears started again, too, as she hid her face behind her hands. Sighing to himself, he did the only thing he could think of. Hesitantly he put an arm around her back and pulled her closer. Her whole body shuddered with her sobs. She was as pathetic a sight as he'd ever seen. Strangely, this only wanted to make him hold on that much more. At first she seemed to resist, but in a heartbeat, she was burying herself against his side, taking in the comfort he offered. Mentally he cringed at this trying not to think about the tears and snot she was going to get on his shirt. Sheppard forced himself to kept still.

Carson, you so owe me one for this, he thought to himself.

Again she seemed to gradually bring herself back under control. With a growl Alex scrubbed at her face.

"How do you put up with this?"

"Put up with what?" Sheppard asked, confused.

"I feel so much. It's all so strong. And every time I think about Carson and…" she took a deep breath, "I just…get overwhelmed."

"Ah, that. Well, that happens to people when they fall in love," John told her casually, waiting to see the reaction.

Alex's whole body twitched with that revelation and her eyes went wide. "Is that what's happening to me?" she asked in a shocked whisper with John's arm still around her.

"That's what it looks like. But I'm no expert, mind you. You might be better off to ask Heightmeyer about that stuff."

"What about Carson?"

"Him? Yeah, you could ask him. As a matter of fact, that might be a really good idea, considering it seems he's the one you're falling in love with."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," he said. "I'm just not very good at this kind of thing. But I still say you should talk to him. You never know, he might just feel the same way."

Why he didn't just come out and tell her, he would never know. But this had dragged on long enough. Aside from his bottom being sore from the solid, cold metal underneath, he wasn't about to play matchmaker. They would just have to figure it out on their own. She seemed to go quiet, after this. But he could tell she was still awake by her breathing.

"You're right," she said softly. "It is a nice view."

"Yep, I'll have to remember this spot."

"Thank you."

"For what? Barging in on you to drag you back into the confines of the infirmary?"

"I should go back. Doctor Knightley is not going to be pleased."

"Nope," Sheppard agreed maneuvering to his feet.

He reached down to help Alex only to see her trembling from head to foot, weak as a newborn kitten. With a sigh, he hefted her scrawny form into his arms and turned back toward the ward. Though surprised, Alex didn't resist. Almost as soon as he turned around, he found himself staring down Carson's stony expression.

"I told ya not to worry, Doc. When in doubt, check a balcony."

"Carson," Alex said, smiling brightly from her position in Sheppard's arms.

"Come on, Alex. Let's get you back into bed," he replied wearily.

Leaning heavily on a cane, Carson led the way back to Alex's bed. Sheppard gently set her back in it just as Knightley came around the corner.

"What are you doing, Carson?" she said, her face a thundercloud. "I thought you had enough sense—Alex!"

Alex bowed her head, obviously expecting the worst. Knightly just rushed over and started reattaching her to all the equipment. For a moment, Carson just watched before turning to make his way slowly back toward his ward. Surprised by this, Sheppard followed.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Sheppard asked, "What gives? Aren't you going to at least talk to her?"

"Aye," Carson said, his expression neutral. "But first I have some questions. I saw you two out there."

"I could have used some backup."

"If I'm not mistaken, that's the last thing Alex needed."

"What?"

"How is she?"

"Emotionally, she's a wreck. You saw her."

"Aye, but I didn't hear anything," Carson admitted. His blue eyes grew distant as he seemed to consider something. "Fragile, would you say?"

"Confused, is more like it," John supplied. "She's still getting used to human emotions and a lot just fell into her lap. Aside from the obvious guilt over the deaths, she's been dealing with a few other things we weren't aware of, until recently. There's the overall feeling of hostility around the city about her, which she probably isn't ignoring as well as we all would like to believe. And, of course, there's you."

"Me?"

Glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot, and still lowering his voice to a whisper, John's green eyes bored into Carson's blue ones so there would be no misunderstanding in what he said next. "Look, Doc. I know you would fight like that no matter who the patient was. But I saw her do the same when you were down."

Carson's cheeks colored, but he kept his peace.

"I've seen it, Carson," John said, eyes still locked. "She's thinks she's falling in love with you. And I see nothing wrong with it. That's going to be between you two. But, she's really confused and running without a direction right now."

Carson whispered fiercely, "You think I don't know that? Just what kind of—"

"I don't," John cut him off. "But I don't want to see either of you hurt."

Standing back and raising his voice back to normal, Sheppard crossed his arms and rocked on his heels with a grin. "Besides, there's some good news coming, now that she's awake. Just give it a day or two, you'll see."

Carson's blue eyes seemed to want to pierce right through to the back of Sheppard's head. Finally his tensed expression released. He nodded with a sigh. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Oh, and you should probably get off that leg. That looks painful."

"Why thank you, Doctor Sheppard. I would never have considered that."

With a lopsided grin, Sheppard waved toward Alex who had been watching them both closely, it would seem, and then headed out of the infirmary.

~o~o~o~

The moment Carson had managed to get Doctor Knightley out of his room, he was struggling to his feet. The throbbing all over his body had overshadowed the one in his knee. This newly recognized dull pain turned into a sharp pain as he planted his feet on the floor. Removing the IV and other equipment, he limped out of the room. Spying a nurse, he waved to her and requested a cane. There was no way he was going to be able to deal with a wheelchair, and he had no intention of letting Knightley know he had escaped.

After a few woozy moments on his unsteady feet, Carson made his way across the infirmary to the third ward. He already knew where Alex would be. It had only taken him a few minutes to consider the options available to her before realizing there really was only one place she could have gone in her condition. Ignoring the looks of everyone else present in the infirmary, he slowly made his way to the entrance of the ward. Every inch of his body felt as if it were on fire and throbbing. Every suture screamed in protest at his movements. Sweating slightly from the pain an exertion, he made his way through the doors. Directly across from him at the back of the ward, he saw the balcony door open. Making his way around the nurses' station, he caught sight of someone and almost called out.

As he watched, the larger figure reached over and wrapped an arm around the smaller figure. Already knowing he was seeing Sheppard and Alex, Carson bit down on what he'd been about to say. Too far away to hear, he leaned against the empty nurses' station and watched. Seeing her cuddling up to Sheppard had him chewing his lip to stave off what he knew to be a totally irrational spike of jealousy. But, nonetheless, it was there. The whole reason he hadn't told anyone where to find her once he realized it himself was because he wanted to be where Colonel Sheppard was at now.

Shoving these thoughts and feelings down, he watched, but kept far enough back not to hear. Sooner or later Sheppard would bring her back in. For now, he needed a rest. Fetching one of the chairs from behind the counter, he bit back a groan as he lowered his grateful body into it. Folding his hands on the handle of the cane, he leaned forward to rest his forehead atop them. The throbbing that resounded throughout his entire body was now matched by a pulsing behind his eyelids. Feeling lethargic, he let his thoughts go where they would.

Recalling his conversation with Rebecca, Carson quietly cursed himself. Of all the damn things to happen, it had to be that. Not since Perna had he met another woman that even caught his eye briefly. He still kept a picture of Perna in his rarely-used quarters. He knew one day the pain would fade, and he might meet someone else. But knowing and feeling were two different things. His heart screamed to be with Alex. But his mind knew that to do so now would jeopardize her continued development as a human, let alone any chance of a relationship they might ever have.

Besides, he still didn't know how she felt. He had no right to even hint at his feelings for her when she was likely so new to all of this and obviously fragile. Any indication he gave to her might be suggestive and make her feel obligated to reciprocate, or worse. Brining his head back up, Carson contemplated the two silhouetted figures outlined by the daylight beyond the balcony. Tamping down another spike of jealousy, he took a good long look. No, letting on to Alex that he wanted more than to just be her friend and doctor was wrong. Though she appeared as a woman, in many ways, she was still a child.

But could he keep his own feelings in check?

Growling to himself, Beckett toyed with the idea of a transfer back to Earth. Which, of course, he immediately rejected. Before he had time to think up other options, he saw Sheppard rise to his feet and help Alex up into his arms. Forcing his protesting body up and out of the chair. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he'd been there for a while. Though surprised, Sheppard didn't seem the least bit concerned about anything that may have been overheard.

Good, Carson thought. At least it's not…that.

Silently Carson brutally crushed the seemingly never ending spikes of jealousy and cursed himself. Maybe it was time for a transfer…

~o~o~o~

Alex knew almost without looking up that Doctor Knightley was furious. She kept her head down and complied as the woman reconnected her to all the necessary equipment. To her surprise, Knightly laid a hand gently on her shoulder comfortingly.

"Carson's going to be okay. See?"

Alex glanced back to where Carson and John were speaking before nodding.

"Good. Now, you've got some recovering to do, and I expect you to stay in this bed until I say you can leave. Understand?"

Again she nodded mutely.

Eyeing her for a moment longer, Knightley's brown eyes softened. "Hasn't Doctor Heightmeyer told you that such emotional outbursts are normal?"

Alex nodded again, her cheeks coloring slightly. She still felt foolish. "Yes."

"Then why did you run?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Knightley said. "Remember, you have friends. And that's what friends do. They talk to each other, help each other when we're upset."

"I'm sorry. It's just…so much right now."

"I know it is. But you're strong. You'll be fine," she assured before turning back to make sure all the equipment was working properly.

Obviously finished with their little chat, Alex watched as John left and Carson turned toward her. Where before there had been uncontrollable tears, now there was a warmth and brightness at the sight of him. She could not repress a smile as he approached. Carson, apparently felt the same. He could not help the smile he felt on his own features at seeing Alex safely back into her bed. Not needing a hint, Rebecca nodded that everything was fine and then left the ward.

"Does it hurt much?" Alex asked, seeing all the numerous bandages.

Looking down, Carson just now realized he was still in the blue scrubs he had escaped in. Oh how he hated what those drugs did to his mind. Glancing back up, he quirked a grin. Instead of answering he asked, "Do I really look all that bad?"

Her eyes glistening, Alex nodded.

Carson lowered himself into the chair formerly occupied by Doctor Knightley. "Well, you're not looking so peachy yourself," he tossed back, with a grin to show he wasn't too serious.

Glancing down at her boney hands and arms, Alex just now began to realize how much she had lost.

"Aye, lass, you've lost a lot of weight. When we couldn't keep your body properly supplied with enough energy and nutrients, it essentially started to consume itself. This is what I had worried about, initially, with the original formula. But if you were to have any chance of surviving your injuries, I had to go back."

"No, no, it's fine. I just didn't realize…How bad was it?"

A shadow of pain twisted Carson's features for a moment. Giving in to his weakness, he took her boney hand in both of his. "It's over now, love. You're going to be fine."

"What happened? I don't understand."

Sighing heavily, Carson focused for a moment on her icy hand in both of his warm ones. "No one really understands these things," he started hesitantly. "You understand that humans hate Wraith?"

"Of course, and rightly so."

"Some still see you as Wraith, not human."

"And they don't like that." It was not a question.

Carson nodded sadly. "Doctor Belby and Sergeant Holmes were more than just a little blind to your transformation. They wanted revenge."

"For what I did to John?"

"No, not at all. Don't worry yourself about that. They were out for revenge of a kind that only makes sense in the minds of those who are possessed by such madness."

Alex sat quietly for a moment, considering this. "What about the others? So many hate me, still call me 'pet Wraith'. Is there any hope of ever changing that?"

Sighing deeply, Carson put her hand to his forehead for a moment and he leaned down. "I'm sorry," he said bringing his head back up. "I don't know. Humans, by our suspicious nature, hate and fear what we don't know. And once that hate is started, it can take a lot to convince anyone otherwise. And, sometimes, it never changes.

"On our own planet, there are many different ethnic groups. As a result there are wars fought over religions, instead of just land. Riots and murders caused by those who hate others of a certain gender or sexual preference. People oppressed and enslaved for no better reason than the color of their skin."

This whole time he had spoken while staring at her delicate hand in both of his. Now he brought his sad blue eyes up to meet her intense and curious ones. "But there are also many millions, possibly even billions of people on the same planet who believe we are all just human, and the rest doesn't matter. They embrace diversity and culture. "

"Billions? All on one planet?" she said, awed.

"Yes."

"Here they are spread throughout the galaxy, and I would not estimate them to be more than millions. Though, Wraith number in the billions," she added bitterly.

Carson just squeezed her hand gently and continued. "Most of the people in Atlantis are those who embrace diversity. There are people here from just about every ethnic group, every nationality, and every religion. And we all coexist. But also, there isn't a single person on Atlantis that hasn't lost a loved one or friend to a Wraith at some point in the almost four years we've been here."

"And that is why they hate me."

"Some. For others it's just a matter of not knowing what to make of you since your change. There is little you can do except be who you are. Let them see you as human, and not Wraith. And maybe things will change."

Alex huffed a dark laugh. "And who am I?"

Frowning Beckett didn't get a chance to answer as boots came around the corner.

"Am I interrupting?" Major Lorne asked.

Carson, sitting up a bit straighter, waved the Major closer. "Not at all, Major Lorne. See for yourself, she's well on the mend."

Lorne smiled warmly. "So I see. You ready to get out of this bed, yet? Or is Beckett, here, keeping you chained down?"

"Chained down? I'll have you know I reserve the chains only for the likes of Colonel Sheppard and Ronon."

The mental image of Ronon chained to a bed made Alex giggle. That behemoth would take more than a few chains to hold down.

"Looks like someone should have used them on you, Doc," Lorne quipped.

"Did you just come here to question my bedside manner or was there something I could help you with, Major?" Carson said, in mock offense.

"Actually, I'm here to see Alex," he told them. "But you can stay. Word will get around soon enough, anyway."

"Oh?" Carson asked, curiously.

"Well, you certainly don't look up to your usual fit shape," Lorne commented somewhat seriously eyeing Alex. "But Doctor Knightley says you'll be back to normal in a few days, if all goes well."

Carson nodded in agreement to the silent question.

"Yes, that's what she says," Alex said. "Why?"

"Remember what I said in the mess hall?"

Alex's white brows furrowed together as she tried to recall through the fog of shock and pain what exactly had happened. She just remembered the Major's gentle voice and soft touch urging her to do…something.

"I'm sorry, I don't," she finally said.

"No problem," he told her, stepping up to the end of her bed and leaning on it slightly. "I promised that if you stayed awake—stayed alive—until Beckett and his team could get to us, I would give you a chance to do more than sit around with a laptop all day and night. And I meant it."

Alex's eyes widened and her face lit up as understanding began to dawn, but she kept her silence.

"Welcome to my team, Alex," Lorne said warmly with a smile.

"Thank you!" Alex said, breathlessly.

Lorne chuckled. "You may not be so thankful when we're sleeping in swamps and running from locals, but you're welcome. Once you're back on your feet, let me know. We've got some training to do to get you ready before you can go off world."

"I will," she said, excitedly.

"Good. In the meantime, get some rest. And convince this guy he needs to be back in a bed," Lorne tossed over his shoulder good-naturedly.

Carson had kept his peace while this exchange had taken place. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He had mixed feelings, without a doubt. He didn't like the idea of what could happen with her out in the field. He had watched numerous other friends leave through the gate and never return. Part of being the chief medical officer in a community such as Atlantis, was that sometimes the doctor and the friend were one and the same.

"You're not happy about this," Alex commented, her excitement dampened somewhat.

Coming back to himself, Carson smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, love. I am happy for you. I believe the Major is right, though. I should be making my way back to a bed."

"Thank you, Carson. For everything."

Carson just squeezed her hand one more time before painfully pulling himself back to a standing position and leaning heavily on the cane as she shuffled out of the ward.