Chapter VI:

"Control room to Doctor Beckett," Carson's comm. chirped from his bedside table. Blue eyes snapped open as adrenaline began to course through his veins in preparation for a medical emergency.

He grabbed the device and placed it in his ear before answering, "This is Doctor Beckett, go ahead."

"Sir, Colonel Sheppard would like me to me remind you that you have a meeting with him, Doctor Weir, and the Doctor at 0800."

Carson's brows furrowed in confusion. He'd seen Elizabeth yesterday and she hadn't mentioned a meeting to him. Since the Doctor was included in the meeting, it was probably a given that they were going to discuss how they were going to go about their rescue mission, but for the life of him, Carson couldn't figure out why he would need to be involved.

He groaned when he looked at the clock and saw that it was barely six a.m.

"Aye, alright, thank you Chuck," Carson responded to let the tech know that he'd heard and would be there. For a minute he thought about asking why he'd been woken up so early, but he doubted that it was Chuck's idea and so he didn't. Besides, it was always a good idea to get up two hours before your day when on Atlantis. And at six in the morning, there was a better chance at getting waffles before everyone else got to them.

With his stomach rumbling in anticipation and his mind still trying to figure out why he'd been summoned to the meeting, Carson slowly got out of bed and began preparing for the day.

THWACK! Ronon landed a blow on John's left side, his Bantos stick hitting the flesh without mercy. The pilot barely had time for a wince before the Satedan was striking again. This time John managed to block the blow and landed one himself, smiling confidently when he heard Ronon give a brief grunt.

"So, you had Chuck wake the Doc up early?" the big man asked as they continued to spar. Their usual morning routine was to jog through the city, but both had wanted a more physical start to their day and so this is what they chose.

"Yeah," John replied, blocking yet another blow. He and Ronon circled each other, taking a breather and waiting for the other to strike again. "I figured he could use the extra time."

They both smiled, knowing that that was not the reason John had had the tech alert Beckett to the meeting so early. It was actually payback for making John stay in the infirmary overnight. Sure, the pilot had snuck out while the overnight crew had either been busy or asleep, but still, Beckett knew that he hated staying in the infirmary overnight for, what John believed was, no reason; he had it coming.

THWACK-CRACK-THWUMP!

"And what's he gonna do to you once he figures out that you snuck out?" Ronon asked, once again stepping back after a brief spar. Across from him, John was favoring his left side a bit more and giving a wince whenever he moved it. The Satedan smiled, knowing that his last blow had hit the same spot as before. His CO would be lucky if he didn't have a cracked rib or three before their session ended.

John froze for a second, trying to contemplate exactly what Beckett would do when he found out that John had snuck out of his infirmary. His imagination conjured up many things, none of which John found particularly disturbing – well, with the exception of keeping him grounded.

At the amendment, he made a face and Ronon took that as his cue to attack once again. Though he was caught off-guard, it wasn't enough to allow the big man another chance to hit him. John defended his weaker side eagerly and swiftly, returning a blow for each one the Satedan tried to land and getting in a couple licks of his own.

Just as he was about to land his final blow, his comm. activated.

"Doctor Becket to Colonel Sheppard," the doctor's brogue announced in his ear.

Just as Beckett began talking, Ronon took out John's legs, making him land on the floor with a hard thud. Above him, the big man sneered which made the pilot pout a little.

"That doesn't count. My comm. went off," he griped as Ronon helped him to his feet.

"It counts," Ronon argued, joining John in a drink of water at their gym bags.

John gave enough pause to glare at his friend before he touched the device in his ear. "This is Sheppard, go ahead Doc."

"Thank you for the wake-up call, Colonel. Next time, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell Chuck to wait until dawn before you have him wake me up."

John smiled at the half humorous, half grousing tone in the Scot's voice. "Well, I just wanted to make sure that you had enough time to get something to eat before the meeting."

"Aye, and thank you for your concern, Colonel, but I am not Rodney."

Again, John smiled. "Thank God for that. One is enough."

"I can hear you, you know," Rodney's voice griped as the scientist joined the conversation.

"I know," John said, smiling at Ronon who easily returned the gesture. They grabbed their gear, and, by silent agreement, started heading towards their separate sleeping quarters to shower and change.

"Oh, ha-ha, Colonel, very funny," Rodney tonelessly replied.

"Speaking of food, Colonel, you should eat before the meeting as well. That is, if you and Ronon have finished sparring." When John winced at Beckett's statement, he heard Beckett chuckle, "Aye, I know you were sparring, even though you didn't have medical permission to do so."

"I felt fine, Doc, I swear."

"Aye, I know. You always do. That doesn't mean that you are, I'm afraid." There was a pause and then he said, "At any rate, take your shower. I'll see you at the meeting."

And with that Beckett signed off. John entered his room, quickly taking his comm. out of his ear in case anyone else wanted to say anything. He was a little shocked that the doctor had let him off so easily. Normally Beckett pestered and barked until John was back in the infirmary where he should be, not let him get away with it. Maybe he'd suspected that John was going to escape and so wasn't either surprised or mad about it? Either way, John wasn't going to argue with it.

He stripped off his clothes and climbed into the shower, silently thanking Atlantis for starting it without him asking her to. He heard a brief, almost curt, reply to his thanks before the link went silent. Apparently another sentient ship was more important than talking to him. John shrugged. He didn't mind it; he couldn't pretend to understand what it felt like being so alone and isolated from someone who truly understood how you felt.

Speaking of the TARDIS!

"Hey, Atlantis," he mentally called as he dried himself off.

Yes John?

"Could you have the TARDIS remind the Doctor about the meeting with Doctor Weir and I? I don't want the meeting to last longer because he forgot."

Do not worry, Colonel Sheppard, the TARDIS replied for Atlantis, A meeting of that importance is not something my thief is likely to forget.

"Right, sorry," John answered, not exactly sure why he was apologizing. Through the ship's tone he'd gathered that he'd somehow offended either the ship or her Doctor, but he couldn't be sure.

It is alright. He is still sleeping for now, but I will wake him before long.

John thought about making a statement about the Doctor seeming like the type that doesn't sleep as much as he should, but he let it pass; the Doctor's sleeping habits weren't exactly important right now, and the man – no, alien, though he didn't look like one – could take care of himself. If not, he had Rose to help him out.

Just as he thought the conversation had been finished, he felt a gentle knock on his mind. He mentally opened the door and waited for Atlantis to speak. To his surprise, it wasn't Atlantis whom wanted to talk to him.

Is Rose alright? I cannot seem to reach her.

Uncomfortable with discussing someone that he had no idea about, John smiled at the TARDIS' concern and answered, "I haven't seen her since last night, but when I left she was sleeping. If you want more information, however, you should give Beckett a call."

There was a pause where, John assumed, the TARDIS conferred with Atlantis for help in deciphering John's meaning, and then she was back with a simple, Thank you. Then there was nothing, and the pilot was left to get dressed and head to breakfast in peace.

Rose. Rose.

Someone was calling her name, she could hear it. The voice was familiar and it resembled home, safety, and love to her. But she couldn't be bothered to wake up to answer. Her body felt weighed down, as did her mind. No matter how much she tried to even mentally answer the voice, nothing came. Her brain was too tired; it was demanding more sleep, and since her body agreed, she relented, letting the dark take her once more.

Carson emptied his tray, smiling at whoever he passed as he walked out. Now that he's had some coffee and breakfast, he was in a much better mood. He hadn't been surprised to find out that the Colonel had escaped during the night when no one was looking; it was a common occurrence. If he was honest with himself, he didn't think the military commander had needed to spend the entire night in the infirmary anyways and so he wasn't angry about the escape.

He'd just stepped into the transporter when he felt a gentle but insistent knock on the back of his mind. Knowing that Atlantis didn't knock before speaking, Carson furrowed his brows, worried that something was wrong. He opened a figurative door and waited for the TARDIS to speak.

Is Rose alright?

The furrow in Carson's brows increased, this time with confusion. "I believe so, love, why do you ask?"

I haven't been able to reach her, her mind is somehow closed off from me and it's unusual.

Carson chuckled and he let his relief and assurance flow through his link with the ship. "Don't worry. I gave her a sedative last night so that she could get some rest. Given her state of exhaustion, I wouldn't be surprised if it was still making her groggy."

I see. And she let you do this willingly?

"Aye. I don't inject drugs into a person's system without their okay, I assure you."

That statement does not include the wraith, I take it.

Carson, who was just about to the infirmary, stopped short. The tone in the ship's voice was cold, almost angry. Clearly she has been updated on what has happened the past five years and she didn't agree with it.

Quietly, he slipped into his office, closed the door and collapsed into his office chair. Not being used to this much conversation with a sentient ship, his head was once again beginning to throb, but there wasn't anything he could do about that at the moment; he doubted the ship was done speaking with him and he felt as though he needed to defend himself, not only against her accusations about the wraith, but about Rose as well.

"Aye, I'll grant you in the past it did not. I regret very much my part in, not only the Hoffan plague, but the retrovirus and thus Michael as well. I'm honestly not sure that I can say that I would act differently should I be able to go back and change things, but I would like to think that I would try. Our understanding of the wraith then and the wraith now are very different."

Do not worry, Doctor, I am not accusing you of anything. Humans often do not see the bigger picture and neither I nor the Doctor can fault you for that flaw. We would simply wish you to think about all sides of a story before you act against an enemy, whether they be familiar or foreign.

Carson thought about that for a moment, sure that there was a hidden or second meaning in the statement. When he couldn't immediately discern what it was, however, he gave a mental sigh. "Aye, well I expect Rose to sleep for another few hours at the least. She was truly quite exhausted when she arrived and her body is using the time to recharge." He paused for a minute, debating saying something, then he went ahead and spoke his mind, sure that the TARDIS knew what he was thinking anyways. "Do you lot not get many chances for sleep?"

Though he couldn't see the ship, he felt her smile.

You are worried about them. A statement, not a question.

"I would be a pretty poor doctor if I wasn't," he answered with a slight chuckle.

Not necessarily. Empathy is not a requirement when going into the medical profession. You can be a great doctor and still not care about the patient.

"I suppose," he granted, thinking that they must watch a lot of American TV on the ship. "You didn't answer my question, though."

Again, the TARDIS figuratively smiled. No, I did not. The answer to your question is not a simple one, and I fear that if I were to start an explanation you would miss your meeting. It starts in ten minutes, does it not?

Carson looked down at his watch, his eyebrows rising in surprise when he discovered that the TARDIS was right. He was instantly out of his chair and heading out of the infirmary before another word could be said.

Thanks to transporters and five years of getting to know every inch of Atlantis, Carson wasn't late. In fact, he was a few minutes early. He smiled at Elizabeth, who unsurprisingly enough was already there, and grabbed another cup of coffee.

"Morning Elizabeth," he warmly greeted as he sat down and waited for it to begin.

"Morning Carson," she returned, pausing from whatever was on her tablet to physically address him. "How are you?"

"I'm good, and yourself?" Carson lied. His head was still aching pretty badly, but it wasn't anything anyone needed to know or worry about.

"I'm good as well," Elizabeth answered, giving a slight smile before turning her attention back to her tablet.

Carson let her be, figuring she had important emails to concentrate on until the meeting started. Taking the brief respite for what it was, he slowly leaned down in the chair so that his head was supported by the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

His only warning that someone else had entered the room was a familiar voice saying, "Head's up Doc," quickly followed by the sound of a pill bottle being thrown in the air. Out of pure instinct and luck, Carson managed to catch the bottle before it hit him square in the face, but that didn't stop him from semi-glowering at the Colonel. The pilot smiled, saying, "Someone thought you might need that."

As Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney shuffled in behind the Colonel, Carson looked down at the bottle in his hand and smiled when he noticed that it was aspirin. "Aye," he granted, opening the bottle and swallowing two down with his coffee, "I suppose I might."

"Ooh, what have we got here? Some new drug to discover? Well, for you lot, anyways, not for me obviously. Oh, it's just aspirin. Nasty stuff, that is. Don't ever give me any; I had a bad reaction to it one time and I don't want to experience that again."

The small group of Lanteans looked at the man who had just walked into the room, babbling away. The Doctor smiled at their singular expressions of bafflement and waved, "Good morning. It is morning isn't it? Well, of course it is; I mean, I know that it is, but, blimey, how can you lot keep track? The sun has barely set long enough for a night to have passed. Of course, I suppose you humans are used to the sun being down for such a short time. Well, I say short, but in all actuality, it's quite long compared to a lot of planets. Take Kapa, for instance – their sun is only down for about three hours and then it's back to work. Of course, they're farmers and they need all the sunshine they can get, can't they?"

"Am I late?" Major Lorne asked, arriving just as the Doctor had finished his ramble. He slipped by the Doctor, choosing to sit across from his CO and patiently waited for the meeting to start.

"No, Major, you're right on time," Elizabeth said, snapping out of her blank stare and coming back to reality. She watched the being called the Doctor as he sat himself down by Carson with a broad grin on his face and his hands clasped loosely on the table. She did her best to hide her surprise when she noticed that he was barely limping anymore and that the once livid bruise on his cheek was now gone.

The doors to the conference room closed with a slight hissing sound, signaling the beginning of the meeting.

"Alright, as you all know, we're here to discuss how to free the-," she paused, looking to the Doctor for help on the name of the race.

"Gabrihaths," he supplied in an even tone, his mood sobering up under the face of business.

"-the Gabrihaths from the wraith. Now, as I'm sure you all know, it won't be easy-"

"-it won't even be in the realm of easy," Rodney interjected, clearly unable to help himself.

"That's not necessarily true, Rodney, we have done this before," John responded.

"We've freed people from the wraith, but these beings aren't people, they are overgrown dogs," Rodney argued.

"And as such, they are not worthy of your help?" the Doctor challenged. His voice was dead, but there was an anger behind it that burned hotter than fire.

"Well, no, of course, not," Rodney jabbered, clearly taken aback at how passionately the Doctor felt about helping the Gabrihaths.

"Because if they aren't, then you can just stay here; I'll not have you slowing me down."

"Slowing you down?" Rodney returned, his voice almost a challenge in and of itself.

"Alright, that's enough!" Elizabeth called before an argument broke out. "Now, Rodney, they may not be human, but they have asked for help and we are in their debt for helping you all escape. So, we will help them, end of story."

"But," Rodney tried to argue, but after Elizabeth continued to stare at him, he caved, "Fine." He swiveled his chair so that he was addressing only the Doctor and said, "How do you propose we go about this rescue mission?"

The Doctor's answering smile was not an encouraging one, though none of them knew why they thought that. It was a look one would expect a fox to give before he pounced on his prey.

"That's simple, isn't it?" the Doctor replied, once again leaning back lazily into his chair. "We walk through the front door."

TBC