Chapter 7

Jennifer frowned as she looked at the results of the scan. Leaning slightly forward, she adjusted the monitor and another set of results appeared on the screen. After another few minutes of futile adjustments and looking at the displays, Jennifer knew she had found the cause for her mother-in-law's illness. She just really really wished she hadn't. She also knew how dire the prognosis was. Nevertheless she went through the entire procedure of mentally listing every possible treatment and assessing them. Unfortunately she was also aware of how little any of the conventional procedures could help. Perhaps if they had discovered this weeks ago, but by now Mother Beckett was just too ill for them to really do anything.

Okay, she thought as she sat down on one of the horrible little stools scattered throughout the infirmary. Though her pregnancy was not that advanced yet, she was beginning to show and the continued morning sickness was making her tired. Part of her marvelled at the idea of a small little life inside her (a positive kind of life that had nothing to do with either the Goa'uld or some freaky Wraith spore), but another part of her really wished the child would be born and she could get on with her life. She knew most of the women felt that way. Most of the women that had joined the Atlantis expedition – while it had still been an official expedition – had been aware of the fact that for a while they would have to put off the idea of a family. All these pregnancies had come as a surprise. The only one who seemed to flap about it was Sitnalta. The young blonde was completely ecstatic about being pregnant. Jennifer wasn't exactly sure why, though.

Okay, she repeated as she collected her thoughts and once more concentrated on Mother Beckett. The old lady must have known for a while she was sick. That was probably why she had not wanted to join Atlantis in the first place. But she had and in the end she had become a valuable asset to the city. With a grace only rivalled by her steely determination she had taken over the running of the mess hall. Only, under her rule it was no longer called the 'mess hall', but had been upgraded to the dining hall with adjacent kitchen. On most days breakfast was served on the large balcony and this Mother Beckett insisted on calling the 'breakfast aquarium'. And Jennifer had to agree that eating outside with only the shield between them and the ocean was extraordinarily beautiful. At first some people had been slightly apprehensive of eating in such a manner, but as mother Beckett had pointed out to them: there really was no difference between being submerged within the city's interior or outside on the balcony. Either way you were dead should the shields fail. Sometimes the old lady had very little tact. But everyone ate outside and was happy about it.

But she must have known about this, Jennifer silently repeated. She would have been experiencing some odd symptoms for a while now and her passing out at the wedding must have been only the latest symptom. Damn, why had she been so stubborn? Why hadn't she listened when they had explained to her how sophisticated their medical technology was? Now it was probably too late to save her. Damn damn damn. If only she wasn't so tired, perhaps she could think of some unconventional means of saving Mother Beckett. But the knowledge that she was first going to have to break this news to the Becketts was looming at the front of her mind like a mountain.

Well, there was no use in putting it off any longer. She had to tell them as soon as possible. Perhaps then they could think of something together. She could almost feel there was an answer lurking in the back of her mind; she just couldn't grab hold of it.

Okay, she needed to tell the Becketts – and probably Laura – as soon as possible. But it would seem rude to call them on the radio. Fortunately one of the other doctors were officially on duty at the moment – both Becketts and Jennifer devoted all their attention to finding what was wrong with Mother Beckett. Well, now she had.

Hopping off the stool, she quickly informed the other doctor that she was leaving, but would return soon. The man nodded and Jennifer went to fetch the Becketts. There would probably be only two places the men could be: either asleep or eating. At first Elizabeth had asked one of them to report to her at least twice a day about the patient's progress, but that duty had soon been delegated to Jennifer. Therefore the men would not be found in Weir's office. And they really wouldn't be anywhere else.

As Jennifer headed towards the dining hall first, she quickly contacted Laura. If she was going to deliver this news to her brother-in-law, she was only going to do it with his wife close by his side.

"Laura, are you with Carson?" she asked as soon as she got her sister-in-law on the radio.

No, I'm in one of the ZPM rooms with Sitnalta, she answered. Ironically, Laura's expertise with explosives came in very handy in working with the ZPM's. Not that the powerful batteries that ran the city was dangerous, but much of the principles of working with bombs were used in making the new ZPM's. So the blonde had been rotated into shifts in the ZPM teams. Jennifer knew she couldn't wait to get off-world again soon, though. Why? Laura added.

"Could you go get him and meet me in the infirmary as soon as possible?" Jennifer told her.

You've discovered what's wrong with Mother Beckett?

"Yes," she curtly replied. No matter how much she loved the other woman, she was not about to inform her first. Yes, both she and Jennifer thought about Mother Beckett as their own mother and each other as sisters. But in the end she was the Becketts mother first.

The line was silent for a while. Then: that bad, huh?

Jennifer sighed. This was the problem with working with intelligent people: they were far too clever for their own good. "I'll tell you when Duncan and I get there. Oh," she added as another thought occurred to her. "Perhaps you could inform Elizabeth about it? Get her to meet us there in a while?"

Weir's not on Atlantis, Laura replied. She's off-world somewhere.

Jennifer thought about that for a moment. "Colonel Sheppard's not going to like it," she said as she ran up the flight of stairs that led to the level their rooms were on. "When's SGA-1 due back?"

Within the hour, Laura responded.

The conversation ended just then as Jennifer entered Duncan and her room. As she had thought, her husband was asleep.

"Duncan?" she softly said as she touched his shoulder. Instantly her rolled over to look at her; fear in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he demanded of her.

"Get dressed and come to the infirmary, okay?" she tried to tell him a gently as possible. But she could see her evasive answer only frightened him. "I needed a cup of coffee, so I thought I might as well come and fetch you myself," she quickly lied to him. Well, the dining hall was on her way so she would just have to go get a cup. "Can I get you one as well?" she asked. Duncan was already pulling on his pants.

He looked at her slightly sheepishly. Then he walked over and took her face between his hands and lightly kissed her on the forehead. "No, love. I'll be fine. I'll meet you there in a minute, okay?" he said as he stared intently at her. But she had been a doctor long enough not to let anything of her own worry show on her face. She touched one of his hands with her own.

"I'll see you there," she told him. Then she quickly left before she gave in to the urge to tell him everything.

In the end Jennifer arrived only moments before the rest of her peculiar family.

"Um, I've discovered what's wrong with Mother Beckett," she told them without hesitation. She knew for both the Becketts it would be easier to know the diagnosis as soon as possible. She turned on the latest scan of Mother Beckett and enlarged the part of the scan that showed her head. Carefully she enlarged it further until the small abnormality in the brain was visible. There, tucked between the cerebellum and the bottom of the thalamus was a small spot of matter that did not belong.

As she had, both Becketts immediately started asking her the same question:

"Cancer?" Looking at one another, Carson indicated Duncan should be the one to continue.

"Cancer?" he repeated. "How could we have missed that? We should've seen some changes in her blood work or..."

Jennifer shook her head. She, too, had first thought it was a small tumor. But after she had examined it closer and had done a visual check of Mother Beckett, she had realised the answer lay somewhere else.

"It's not cancer," she told them. "It's a hematoma, caused by an injury to the skull," she informed them. The two men leaned forward.

"But there?" Carson asked as he indicated the strange place for such a hematoma. "And when could she have injured herself like this? We would've known if she fell." He hopefully added. But Jennifer only placed her hand on his shoulder. She was looking at both men, though.

"It's an old injury, probably sustained while we've been in the Pegasus Galaxy."

"But..."

"How long has she been living alone now?" Jennifer interrupted Carson as he still battled with disbelief. Duncan, she could see, was just as shocked. But circumstances had taught him to accept the worst much quicker than did Carson.

"Too long," he now softly answered. He looked at the scans and Jennifer once more adjusted the screen. Now they could see the scans of Mother Beckett of the day she came to Atlantis next to that of the scan they had just perused. The small spot was visible on both, if just, and now Jennifer pointed at the enlarged image.

"I think it had been forming very slowly for at least half a year," she told them. Though the mass was on both images, the difference was minute. But in the months since Mother Beckett had come to Atlantis the hematoma had grown just enough to now be causing such severe symptoms.

"Can you operate?" Laura interrupted. She had her arms around Carson.

It was not necessary for Jennifer to answer this time. The two sons knew.

"No," Carson answered his wife. "There's nothing we can do."

Author's Note: I'm not a doctor, sorry. If you find the illness too improbable – and have some medical experience to back it up – let me know. I'll see what I can do about it. DPB