Warnings: Brief description of childbirth, nothing graphic. Brief mention of the death of a child.
Chapter 12
In the two weeks since the Genii incident, Carson had barely seen Tamsin. With Jennifer on maternity leave and the birth of baby Keller-McKay imminent, they had seemed to end up on opposite shifts – a few hasty meals and brief exchanges in corridors being the sum total of their contact recently.
He currently sat in the office, staring at the infirmary rota on his tablet. Tamsin was due a rest day and he wondered if it would be an abuse of his authority to swap his own shift so that they could have a few hours together. Even if they only managed dinner in the mess hall and a film, he'd be happy just to see her for more than a few minutes at a time.
"Carson, where are you?" The unmistakable sound of a trying-not-to-panic Rodney McKay.
Carson sprang to his feet, striding out of the office.
There stood Rodney, wide-eyed, with one arm around Jennifer's shoulders, the other being clutched in a death-grip by said woman.
"Carson…Jennifer…labour…" he managed to gasp.
"Aye, so I see. How far apart are the contractions?"
"About two minutes, lasting a minute or so." Jennifer spoke up, still managing to sound reasonably calm, despite her condition.
"Let's get you settled in then. I'll radio Amanda. Rodney, you didn't let your wife walk all the way down here, did you?"
"I insisted. I'm not ill."
"No, just in what looks like established labour," Carson remarked, dryly.
"Established labour? She didn't say that!" Rodney squeaked, wide-eyed.
"She is right here…oww!" Jennifer began, before being interrupted by another contraction.
"Right, off to bed with you, love."
"I'll walk," she panted.
Carson shook his head at her stubbornness, marvelling at the strength. Still, he supposed that was one of the reasons that women were the ones to go through pregnancy and childbirth.
A brief radio conversation had Amanda Cole on her way to the infirmary. As the sole obstetrician on base, she would be handling the birth. Carson would be around for back up and probably moral support for Rodney.
A short while later Amanda slipped out of the private room that Jennifer was now occupying. She beckoned to Carson, who was waiting outside.
"She's about four centimetres dilated, so definitely in established labour, but it's going to be a while yet. I'd suggest you take a break now, it'll get tough later."
"Aye, I'll do that. How's Rodney coping?"
"Surprisingly well, actually. I'd expected him to be all over the place. He seems to be really into this."
Carson chuckled. "Sounds like Rodney. I'll head out now, can I bring you back anything?"
"No, thank you, Carson. I'll be fine." Amanda smiled and went back into the room.
Letting the duty nurse know he was taking a short break, Carson left the infirmary, taking a slow route to the mess hall via a nearby balcony.
The sun was just setting, casting a glow over the spires of the city. He gazed over the water, imagining what was to come. The first baby to be born in the city in over 10,000 years – of course Rodney would be the father. Carson had heard the story of Torren's birth aboard the hive ship and Rodney's impromptu and somewhat reluctant role as midwife, but Rodney had spent the last nine months driving Jennifer nearly round the bend with his enthusiasm. Carson was more than happy for his friends, and knew that he would think of their child as family, but he couldn't help feeling a prick of regret. It was something he tried not to think about too often, but every now and then it would hit him he would most likely not experience fatherhood himself. Still, it wasn't the time to dwell on his own issues.
Pushing away from the railings, he turned off in the direction of the mess hall. There was no telling how long Jennifer's labour would last and he would need to keep his strength up, even if he was only there in a support capacity.
By the time the night shift arrived a couple of hours later, Carson was relieved to see a change of personnel. There had been a steady influx of patients through the doors of the infirmary. Now nearly all the beds in triage were occupied, many of the patients with a couple of companions. Apart from major incidents, Carson had rarely seen the area so busy.
"It's like Paddington station in here!" Carson turned to Tamsin as she approached him.
"Aye, I know. They all started arriving about an hour ago with all sorts of weird and wonderful symptoms."
"Let me guess; nothing obvious, all requiring tests?" She replied.
"Got it in one. A few cleared off when I ordered blood tests, but most have stuck it out. The lab is working overtime, but I'm still waiting on results. There's a queue for the scanner."
Tamsin crossed her arms, thinking for a moment. "Hmm, Jennifer's in labour, isn't she? I'd say most of them are waiting for news. Want me to read them the riot act?"
"Och, the grapevine's on form tonight then, by the sound of it. No, I'll do it; I think I might be a little more diplomatic."
"It's all round the city already. Good luck." She jerked her chin, indicating the awaiting masses.
"Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention please?"
All heads turned to Carson, the silence descending.
"Thank you. I'm happy to tell you that the rumours are true and Dr Keller is in labour. However, as I'm sure you're all aware these things take time and the infirmary is not a waiting area. If you're just here to get the scoop on the betting pool, may I suggest you leave now before I find the need to check everyone's vaccination records."
There was a distinct atmosphere in the room, as all but two of the occupants slid off beds and chairs, sidling towards the exit with sheepish expressions.
"There'll be an announcement as soon as the family is ready, but I don't think anybody wants to rush them, do they?" Carson glanced around the infirmary, catching a few eyes which slid guiltily away from his.
"Right, then. Looks like you've still got a few customers." Carson nodded towards the remaining patients, catching Tamsin's smirk as he did so. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, obviously trying to hold in her grin.
"Out with it!"
"It's nothing. Just… you make them sound like the Royal Family or something. Maybe we should put an announcement outside the infirmary like they do at Buckingham Palace."
He snorted softly. "Well they practically are royalty around here. Don't tell Rodney I said that though, I don't want it going to his head."
"As if I would."
"I'll let you get to work, then. I'm off to check in with Jennifer."
"Take it easy."
With a warm smile to Tamsin, he headed towards the side room. As he approached the room, he met Rodney leaving, an indignant look on his face.
"She threw me out! Can you believe it? Jennifer threw me out. I was trying to help her, you know, breathe through the pain, and she told me to go away if I couldn't be useful."
Privately, Carson admired Jennifer's restraint – he wouldn't have blamed her if Rodney was being his usual over-bearing self.
"I'm sure she'll want you there soon enough, labour is tough."
Rodney swallowed, but managed to keep his cool. "Well, I'm sure I'll be able to step in if necessary. I have delivered a baby before, you know."
"Thank you Rodney, I'll bear that in mind. I think Amanda and I will be just fine."
"Huh. Not sure I like the idea of you seeing so much Jennifer."
"Good lord, Rodney, I'm a doctor. I've seen more of most of you than I care to mention. It's strictly professional, I can assure you."
Rodney looked down for a moment, all bluster gone. "I'm not sure I can do this. Be a dad, I mean. It's not like I had a great role model."
Carson reached across to Rodney, squeezing his shoulder.
"You'll be a wonderful father, Rodney. Now, shall we go and see if Jennifer's forgiven you yet?"
SGA
Almost eight hours had passed since Carson had found Rodney wandering in the hall, but things were in full swing now. He had been providing last-minute moral support to Rodney ever since.
"I've had enough, I can't do this anymore, I want drugs!" Jennifer slumped on a pile of pillows, pale and drawn from nearly ten hours of strong contractions. She had refused anything other than gas and air as pain relief up until now, but Carson knew it was too late for anything else to be effective.
"Jennifer, you're nearly there. I promise you can push soon." Amanda perched on a stool at the end of the bed, alternately offering comfort and encouragement to Jennifer.
"You said that three hours ago, owww!"
"Actually I'm pretty sure it was ten minutes and seventeen seconds ago." Rodney chipped in, in typical fashion. Jennifer glared at him, teeth gritted as a powerful contraction gripped her body.
"You'll…need…the drugs…when I finish…with you," she panted.
"Should she get this violent? It's not good for the baby, right?" Rodney glanced across at Carson, holding Jennifer's other hand.
A feral growl issued from Jennifer.
"Rodney, I'd zip it if I were you," Carson warned.
Jennifer tensed and howled through the next contraction, squeezing their hands harder than Carson might have believed possible. To his credit, Rodney kept silent this time, the wince on his face the only clue as to how much pain he was in. Carson would bet money Rodney was glad he'd removed his wedding ring on Amanda's advice – it wasn't unheard of for a woman to grip her birth partner's hand hard enough to crush a ring into a finger.
"I really need to push, now!"
"Soon, I promise, just keep panting, I'll let you know when it's time," Amanda soothed.
Three more contractions came in quick succession, Jennifer panting and puffing through them all. She seemed to have forgotten them all, withdrawing into her own world to cope with labour. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes, gazing around as if seeing the room for the first time.
"Rodney, you're still here," she whispered.
"I'm always here."
"I…I can't do this."
Rodney brought her hand up, brushing his lips across the back of it. "Yes you can, you're amazing. You've carried our baby for nine months. This is the easy bit."
Jennifer gave an exhausted smile. "Wanna do this bit for me?" she joked, weakly.
He smoothed the hair back from her forehead, placing a gentle kiss there. "I'd never be strong enough," he whispered.
Carson felt like he was intruding on their intimate moment, but he realised that Jennifer had not had a contraction for a few minutes. Coupled with her behaviour and the intensity of those last few contractions, he was fairly sure she had just come through the transitional phase of labour and the third stage was imminent. A glance across to Amanda confirmed his thoughts.
"Jennifer, on the next contraction, I want you to bear down, ok?" she said.
"I can push now?" Jennifer asked hopefully.
"You can, but take it easy, ok?"
"Oh, thank god for that!" Jennifer breathed, relief showing on her face. With Rodney's help, she wriggled into a half-sitting position near the end of the bed. Carson gently transferred Jennifer's hand from his to grip the bed-rail, then moved down to Amanda's left to assist with the main event.
"I love you," Rodney whispered as Jennifer reached for his waiting hand, dropping her chin to her chest.
Carson couldn't help the stab of envy at the brief look between the two of them and wondered if he would ever find that kind of love for himself.
"Ok, Jennifer, time to push!"
SGA
Twenty four hours later, Carson sat in the infirmary office cradling a tiny baby girl. Less than a day old, and she had already had more visitors than a head of state. Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon had all been in briefly to meet the honorary new member of their team, along with Mr Woolsey and a number of the senior staff. Marie had appointed herself gatekeeper and chased them all out when it became apparent how exhausted the new parents were. Lillian Elizabeth McKay had quickly made it clear she would only sleep if held and Carson had volunteered for the job this time.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye near the door. Slowly, he turned his head, so as not to disturb the sleeping child. He was a little surprised to see Tamsin leaning against the frame; he hadn't noticed it was shift change again and had forgotten Tamsin was back on days. He was about to speak, but stopped when he noticed the tender, unguarded look in her eyes as she gazed at him. She blinked, then started as she met his eyes, the tender look vanishing to be replaced by her usual neutral expression, then a quick, warm smile.
"Hard to believe McKay's the father," she said, walking over to them and taking a seat.
"Perhaps she'll take after Jennifer more."
"She's got Rodney's hair, though," she joked.
"Och, don't be mean," he murmured, but there was no denying the child's hairstyle mimicked her father's, even if it was blonde in tone.
Tamsin peered down at Lillian, a thoughtful look on her face. The baby stirred and yawned, fists waving as she stretched. With a snuffle she settled down again.
"It's amazing how much she trusts you. You seem to have the knack with her. You'd make a wonderful father." Tamsin spoke so softly, Carson wondered if she was thinking out loud. He wasn't sure she meant him to hear, she seemed lost in thought.
"I've had plenty of practise; I have several nieces and nephews." He paused; once again, the memories belonged to someone else. "Well, not me, of course. But the memory is there."
"I understand, I think. Sort of muscle memory." He made to correct Tamsin, to explain that he'd meant the memory of the original Carson Beckett.
She smiled gently, placing a hand on his arm. "I know what you really meant and it's fine. They're your memories, just as much as his. They make you who you are. You don't ever need to explain that to me."
Looking across at her unguarded expression again, Carson realised that for once he was seeing her true feelings and his heart leapt that she had finally dropped the barriers, albeit unconsciously.
"What about you, ever fancied motherhood?" he ventured.
A brief hint of regret and sadness flashed across her features, before she looked at the baby, then back at him with a brittle smile. "Career came first. Then… well, it just didn't work out. I don't think I'd be much good at it anyway."
"I know that's not true…" he began.
She shook her head. "Can we change the subject, please?"
"Sorry."
"it's ok, I just find it hard to talk about things, you know. It's been a long time since I had anyone like you in my life."
Bloody hell, she'd gone and done it now. There was no doubt he was falling for her.
Lillian chose that moment to stir and wiggle again, pushing her fists against her face and drawing her legs up inside the blanket. She began to make little sucking movements, her head moving as if searching for something.
"I think this young lady needs something I can't provide."
Tamsin shot a questioning look at him.
"She's hungry, love. What she's doing now, it's called rooting, she's looking for milk."
Tamsin nodded, then smiled. "Best not keep her waiting then, we wouldn't want to keep a McKay from her food."
"I'll get her back to Jennifer before she starts a rant. I'll see you later?"
"Ok. Dinner?"
"Dinner would be lovely."
SGA
Later that night, Tamsin stared out of the window of her quarters at the moon on the ocean. Her thoughts matched the rolling sea.
Carson had been late for their sort-of date. Logically, she'd known he was probably with a patient, but it still rankled that he hadn't radioed. She'd had to give herself a stern talking-to not to march down to the Infirmary and find out what had happened to him. She resented the fact that she had been so pathetically pleased to see him when he had finally arrived, full of apologies and bearing a hastily-burned DVD of the England v Scotland Six Nations game. When possible, the SGC would send recordings of major sporting events in the weekly databursts and the European contingent had put in a request for as much rugby and football as possible. She'd mentioned way back that she'd missed the year's tournament and it was just so Carson that he'd remember such a tiny thing.
Maybe watching thirty hulking men sliding around a muddy pitch after an odd-shaped ball wasn't everyone's idea of a great date, but it was the closest they'd get on Atlantis. She'd shared memories of going to matches at Twickenham a couple of times as a child, and it had led to a joking promise that they'd attend a game together the next time they were both in the UK.
It was that promise that had Tamsin confused, along with their earlier conversation in the infirmary. It seemed to imply that Carson wanted some kind of a future beyond the next few weeks, perhaps even a lifetime. She finally had to admit to herself that she wanted it too. But it was more than that – somehow, it was a sense that she had found somewhere to truly call home even though she hadn't known she was looking.
Turning away from the window, she crossed the room to her desk. She didn't bother to sit down, but tapped a key to wake the laptop. A few more keystrokes, an electronic signature and the 'send' icon – there was no going back now.
SGA
Tamsin studied the tablet in her hand as she walked across the Infirmary to the treatment bed where Evan Lorne sat patiently waiting.
"Good morning Colonel, wound check and stitches removal I believe?"
"Anxious to get back to work, Doc."
"I'm sure you are, but I think it'll be light duties for the time being. Shirt off, please."
"At least buy me dinner first," he joked.
She fixed him with a look. "Let's keep it professional, Colonel."
"You're no fun, you know," he muttered, slipping out of the black uniform shirt he always wore.
"Believe me, I've heard all the lines. It gets pretty boring after the first few times."
She set to work, removing the dressing and checking over the wound. Once the stitches were removed, she checked the range of motion of the joints and muscles. She frowned slightly as Lorne circled his arm as instructed.
"You'll need some physio on that shoulder, I'm afraid. I'll ask the therapist to contact you to make an appointment. Light duties until then."
At that moment, Colonel Sheppard barrelled into the Infirmary, heading straight for the office with a scarily focussed expression. Tamsin stared over her shoulder as Lorne sat straight up on the bed, reaching for his shirt.
"What's that all about?" She mused, out loud.
Seconds later Sheppard strode out into the infirmary, closely followed by Carson, who was in charge that day.
"Listen up everyone, there's been a culling on Chiri, and they've asked for our help with the aftermath. I need volunteers to join the SAR teams in the relief effort."
Carson took up the banner. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've trained for these incidents, but I'm not going to make anyone go against their will."
"I'll go." Tamsin stepped forward. Both Sheppard and Carson glanced at her, Sheppard nodding before looking around the room again. She thought she saw a brief look of fear in Carson's eyes, before he too looked away.
"You sure, Doc?" Evan hissed, now standing at her side.
"Yeah, walk in the park," she hissed back.
Two more medics stepped forward, but Tamsin couldn't help a slight feeling of disgust that there weren't more volunteers. It was quickly overlaid by a hint of guilt – though she'd been in plenty of volatile situations herself, not everyone was willing to put themselves in danger. And if these Wraith were as formidable in the flesh as the briefing videos had said, they had good reason for wanting to stay safe in Atlantis. Still, surely a few more would step up?
"Anyone else?" Sheppard asked. There was near silence as he looked around. In total, five people including Tamsin had volunteered.
"Alright, if there's no one else, gear up and meet in the gateroom in ten minutes." Sheppard spun on his heel closely followed by Carson and the other volunteers.
Tamsin paused for a moment- for some reason she hadn't imagined him joining them. Guilt at her own doubt in him and pride in his volunteering rolled in her stomach. But the overall feeling was fear – not so much for herself – but that something awful would happen to Carson. She pushed her feelings back into that special box in her mind. Feelings got people killed and had no place in these situations. Straightening her shoulders, she made to follow the rest of them. She was stopped by Evan's hand on her wrist. She looked down at it, then up at his face.
"Sorry I can't go with you. Take care, ok?"
"Yep." She grinned, the perfect line springing to mind. "Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast."
Evan looked confused, but replied with a 'good luck', releasing her arm.
Deciding that it was her mission to introduce Evan to the misadventures of Lister, Rimmer, Cat and Kryten as soon as possible, she left the infirmary, focussing on the immediate SAR mission.
SGA
Led by Team Sheppard minus Rodney, the Atlantis personnel emerged through the gate. Like so many other worlds, Chiri had been decimated by the Wraith culling. A heavily forested planet, the people largely lived within the tree canopy or in tented structures on the ground. Once a thriving community of around two hundred individuals, this settlement had been reduced to a couple of dozen inhabitants. Though the vegetation proved little problem to Darts, there was nowhere to land Jumpers, and the teams were all on foot.
Waiting near the gate while Sheppard consulted with the surviving locals that lived in the immediate area, the medical team set up a makeshift treatment space in one of the few remaining tents.
Tying off the last of several stitches in the arm of a young man, Tamsin risked a glance to the other side of the tent. A girl had been brought in, having been crushed by a falling tree and was now lying on a hastily constructed pallet of brush and blankets. Both Tamsin and Carson had known that there was nothing they could do for her beyond pain relief. Carson sat uncomfortably on the ground next to the child. As far as anyone knew, her mother could not be found, assumed culled, and she seemed to have no-one left in the world.
Tamsin dressed the man's wound, sending him away with antibiotics and instructions to keep it as clean as possible. Tidying the area, she deposited used supplies into containers. She looked up suddenly as she realised Carson was muttering softly. She couldn't make out the words, but she'd hazard a guess at it being a prayer.
He rose to his knees, drawing the blanket over the girl, then stood, shoulders hunched, and dashed out of the tent. She hesitated whether to follow him – did he need space or company? The rain pattering on the tent and leaves outside made her decision. He'd gone out in just a black off-world t-shirt and would be soaked in minutes. Tamsin stood, checking there were no more patients, then grabbed Carson's jacket from the floor where he'd dropped it earlier.
Ducking out of the tent, the brighter outdoor light disorientated her briefly and she stood blinking. Carson stood a few feet away, staring into the forest.
"Hey, you might need this." She held out the jacket, which he took with a humourless smile. He shrugged into it, but didn't speak, turning back to the trees.
She made to return to the tent.
"Stay." The need in that single word nearly broke her heart. She knew he felt each loss deeply, but the depth of compassion for a child he had spent barely an hour with was something she had never seen before.
She wanted to reach out to him, but she simply closed the small gap between them, standing close by. His fingers curled around hers and squeezed, taking comfort from her.
There was a sharp crack behind them, and crunching of boots. Tamsin whirled around, left hand automatically going for her sidearm, but coming up empty. Of course, she'd left weapons and TAC vest in a corner of the treatment area. Luckily it was only Sheppard, and given the amount of noise he was making, he'd intended them to hear his approach.
"We need to move on. Jenvin says there's probably more casualties in the next village," he said, looking at Tamsin. She nodded, but there was no response from Carson.
"Doc!" Sheppard's tone was sharp now.
"Can you no' give a man a minute?" Carson replied, accent thickening.
Sheppard glanced at Carson, then at Tamsin. What happened? he mouthed.
"Lost a little girl. No-one left to mourn her," she replied quietly.
Sheppard nodded, his manner softening slightly. "Doc," he repeated, a little less abrupt this time.
"Aye, I can hear you, Colonel." Carson turned back, scrubbing a knuckle across his eyes. Tamsin couldn't tell if it was unshed tears or just the rain, but she suspected the former.
They followed a few paces behind Sheppard, pausing to check in with Sergeant Hayes, one of the Air Force medics accompanying them. Having reassured Carson that everything was under control, the two doctors followed Sheppard to the village 'square', such as it was.