Chapter 11- Revelation
They've set up camp on the outskirts of the Ancient ruins. The inhabitants of the area around the stargate are nomads and only have yurts, very much like those used by Teyla's people. Rodney grumbles a lot about it. Louise teases him but knows he'll adapt, which he does once the tents are pitched and he's made sure she'll prepare a warm, hearty dinner.
She's brought enough food to prepare stew for them all, including the native tribe with whom they are more than likely to trade for meat. The forest around abounds with game and they're ready to trade some of it on a regular basis for flour. She's also brought bread, canned fruit for dessert and small cookies baked with rum-flavored raisins. "Shrewd choice," Aiden approves as he sees her unpack her bags. "You do know how to bargain, don't you?" He winks at her.
She looks innocent enough but he knows all this is a calculated move to entice their soon to be allies to trade with them.
She smiles at him. "Aiden, would you mind coming with me to the nearby spring? Dr Beckett tested it when we arrived and has assured me the water is germ-free. I need to fill a couple of pots to boil water for coffee and tea."
"Of course, chef. Major Sheppard said whatever you need." He grabs the pots and leads the way.
"Don't you dare think for one second I'm going to let you two pamper me," she points out teasingly.
"I know, Ma'am... You can take care of yourself!" he replies, repeating her motto.
"But I sure appreciate your help," she replies gracefully.
When they arrive at the spring, they have the unpleasant surprise to meet Kavanagh who's filling his bottle with water. He nods curtly at them.
"Thought you'd be at the ruins with Dr McKay," Ford points out, making Kavanagh blush bright red.
"None of your concern! And what may I ask you two are doing here anyway?" he retorts disdainfully.
Louise chooses to ignore his attitude. "Getting dinner ready, Doctor," she says, insisting on the last word. "And if you're a good boy, you might even have meat," she adds wikedly, remembering the reason for his foray into her kitchen not so long ago.
He snorts. "I wouldn't expect it any other way after all the work we're doing here."
Ford rolls his eyes. He taps his headset. "Yes, Sir, will be right there. Ford out." He turns to the scientist. "You've just earned yourself the right to a portion of that stew. Sheppard wants me to help in the ruins so you'll have to fill in for me. Help Ms Léger bring the pots of water back to camp and she might let you have dinner tonight," he banters before handing the empty pots to Kavanagh and leaving at a jog. "Call us if you need us, Ma'am," he says as he leaves.
"Don't worry, Lieutenant," she answers and hears him chuckle: "Yeah, yeah, I know..."
Being left alone with Kavanagh seems awkward. She doesn't like his constant look of utter disdain. She's also heard rumors that he's a selfish prick and a coward and that is unnerving when the person next to you may become the most important one should anything happen off-world. She sure wouldn't want to be partnered with him if Wraith were to appear. Come to think about it, minus the Wraith, she's already in that situation. She decides to ignore the creepy feeling she gets around him and motions for him to help her. He looks down on her. "You really don't think I'm going to stoop to doing such vile task, do you? It's your job so I'll leave you to it," he sputters, dropping the pots at her feet and leaving towards the ruins.
She sighs and sets to work. After all, she's glad she's alone though when she starts trudging back towards the camp, she's furious with him. The pots are heavy and she needs to be careful if she doesn't want to spill too much water on the way. After what seems like an eternity, she turns the corner of the path but realizes she's only halfway through. She sets the pots in the dirt and peers at her watch, realizing two things at the same time – one, it's much later than she thought and two, she's forgotten her jacket at the camp with everything in it, meaning her radio but most of all her device to check her blood sugar level as well as the sugar cubes she always keeps with her in case of hypoglycemia.
She feels dizzy from walking in the sun and carrying the heavy loads so she sits in the dirt. From her experience, she knows for sure her blood sugar level is much too low and she needs to do something about it but no one is around. She has to go back to camp before anyone notices she's not come back. She's never felt the need to talk to anyone about it and certainly doesn't intend to do so anytime soon. Come on, she scolds herself, you're not a sissy. You can do it! She stands and decides to leave the pots behind, hoping she'll have time to come back once she's raised her glucose level back to normal. She starts trudging ahead on the path but it's slightly going upwards and she feels her head spin before dropping to the ground and fainting.
Ford knows something is definitely not right when he tries to reach her radio for the second time. He just wants to make sure she doesn't need help at the camp, especially as she's only brought one prep cook with her. The radio finally crackles to life but it's not her voice he hears. "Ms Léger's radio. Yes?" He asks who's there and is told it's the other cook who informs him she's left her jacket at the camp and hasn't come back ever since she left with him. That's when he realizes his mistake. He's let her leave the camp without it because he was with her, which is a major error of judgement. Should something happen in between and they'd be separated, she wouldn't have any means of survival or communication with the rest of the team. The apparent peaceful atmosphere on the planet and lack of any recent culling has lulled him into carelessness. He then realizes that a few hundred yards away, Kavanagh is bickering loudly with McKay.
He yells in their direction. "What the hell are you doing here, Doctor Kavanagh? You were supposed to help Ms Léger bring the water back to the camp! Where is she?"
Kavanagh doesn't even spare him a glance. He shrugs. "Don't know. And for your information, soldier, I'm not at her beck and call. You didn't really believe I was going to help her, uh?"
Ford makes a mental note to kick his ass later and leaves at a run, calling Beckett on his radio to join him there. When they arrive, she's endeavoring to sit up. Her left arm is badly bruised and she seems to be struggling to keep her eyes open. Beckett attends to her immediately, checking her vitals and her bruising. He hands her a small carton of sweetened condensed milk without a word. She sees he's pissed. He knows. Of course he knows, you stupid. He probably knows all the files of everyone in the City by heart. She bows her head shamefully. She's going to get a talking to, for sure.
When she feels better, they get her back to camp and Ford walks back to the path to retrieve the pots. He hasn't said a word to her – nor has Beckett, for that matter – but the kid is not stupid. He can put two and two together. She looks up at him with pleading eyes when he returns. "I'm sorry," she says tentatively, looking towards Beckett too. "Please don't tell anyone."
Beckett's lips are a thin line. "I cannot keep it to myself, love, and you know it, as I'm sure Lieutenant Ford's ethics and orders do not allow the incident to be left off the record either. As for you, young lady," he says, making her laugh humorlessly since she's older than him, "I was much too lenient with you. How long do you think you could still wait to tell me about your condition? Are you reckless?"
She shrugs. "I thought I had enough medication for a very long time and was not really planning ahead. I was allowed to come by Dr Lam, period."
"I'm not saying you were wrong to come or she was wrong to accept you on the program. You can lead a normal life and are probably healthier than most of us, seeing as you must have been instructed into it from the moment you discovered your medical condition. I'm just saying it's reckless not to have the people closer to you aware of it so they know what to do in case of such an incident," he chides her.
"You're diabetic?" Ford asks her shyly, not wanting to scare her off.
She nods. "Type 1. I was diagnosed quite late in my adult life. Not many adults have it. They usually develop type 2 in their forties. I was thirty-two when I got sick. I just learnt to cope with it. I'm usually prudent." Beckett tilts his head and she rolls her eyes. "OK, well, most of the time. It's more difficult in a new environment. We live and learn, right? It won't happen again, I promise."
"We'll see," Beckett replies non-committally.
"I'm sorry," Ford says.
"You'd better be," Beckett replies curtly. "You heard Sheppard the other day. He doesn't like her to be left alone. What were you thinking?"
Louise wants to defend him but the young man stops her with a look. "I said I was sorry. Sorry to learn she's sick. Sorry I had not realized she didn't have her jacket with her. Sorry I left her with that douche bag. I'm sorry, Louise," he says, looking at her. "I was stupid to think Kavanagh wouldn't leave the moment I had my back turned on him."
Beckett looks murderous. "You need to tell Sheppard or so help me God, I will."
Ford nods. Louise turns red with embarrassment. "Does everyone here need to know?! Can I not be spared the humiliation of telling people I'm sick? Do you know how people's looks change when they know? Yeah, that look!" she says pointing at Ford. "They feel sorry for you and then, soon enough, they don't invite you to do stuff like sports or going to the restaurant with them because, hey, it's kind of too complicated, right?" She's getting angry. She had hoped for a second chance but given her luck, what did she expect?
"What do you want me to do, Louise? I have to report it to Dr Weir at the very least," Beckett says.
"Do you need to inform John as well?" she wants to know, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
The two men look at each other, agreeing silently. "Not if you tell him yourself, love. You can leave out the problem with Kavanagh if you want, though you have to understand I'll have to mention it in my report to Dr Weir anyway. What she tells Sheppard is her decision, not mine." Ford nods in agreement.
She lifts her chin in defiance, her eyes brimming with tears. "When do I have to inform him before you decide to tell on me?"
He sighs. "Look, I know you care a lot about what Sheppard thinks. You can deny it all you want but you've made a few friends all right here and John is one of them. I know it's hard to look weak but I have an inkling he already knows you're not, so I'd bet my last shirt on it – that won't change the way he looks at you. It won't for me or Ford either." The other man nods vehemently. "And I'm sure by now you have understood Teyla is not the kind to care about such things. As for Rodney, well, let's say he knows about hypoglycemia himself!" he adds with humor. "See, you don't need to tell anyone and you certainly don't have to fear being seen differently. Now, if you think it'll change Sheppard's way of looking at you, I have to tell you, you might not be worthy of being his friend," he adds wickedly, making her turn beet red with shame.
She seeks him out after dinner, when there's a lull in the conversation with the natives and they've stricken a deal, everyone enjoying the warmth of the fire and trading stories over dessert. "Could you help me carry the pots to the river to wash them, Major?" she asks him shyly, not looking him in the eyes.
He sees something is not right but does not comment on it. She's seemed upset all evening though still endeavoring to be graceful to their hosts. He's seen her talk to Teyla, then Rodney, and the two of them seem upset too. Beckett has hovered over her all night so a sense of foreboding settles in his stomach as he starts walking along the path with her by his side, lighting their steps with the flashlight of his P90.
He startles when she hooks her arm in his free one. "What is it, Louise?" he asks, his fears rising to a dangerous level.
She remains silent for an eternity. "I've been lying to you," she finally confesses.
He stops dead in his tracks and turns to her abruptly. "I'm sorry. What?" His voice is demanding. She cowers in the flashlight and sets the pots on the ground. "Is it something you've been discussing with Teyla and Rodney as well? Does Beckett know? No, don't say anything," he adds, seeing her cringing. "So everyone knows but me, I gather! Ford?" he prods. She nods once, feeling the fire of her blush invade her face. "Well, it's good to know I'm the last to be told, being in charge here and all!" he scowls.
"It's not what you think," she replies in a small voice.
"And what do I think, Louise? Tell me! Because I sure don't have a clue about what's going on. I just can see you've chosen to tell everyone around you except me. I thought we trusted each other."
"We do. Of course, we do," she answers hurriedly. "It's just it's something I had hoped would not have to be revealed."
"And why is that? I'm having a hard time believing you have a skeleton in your closet, sweetie."
"But I do, John. More than one. Like most of us, I guess," she reflects. "Look," she says, laying her hand on his arm tentatively, knowing he's not the touchy type, "it's no big deal. It's just I didn't want anyone to look at me differently because of it..."
"Just spill it out, damn it. You're killing me!" he growls.
"I've got diabetes, John. I fainted this afternoon on this very path. Lieutenant Ford found me and called Dr Beckett. They told me I owed it to you and the rest of the team to tell the truth so here I am, telling you I'm sick..." Her voice trails off as she sees him stare at her. "Here we go," she thinks sadly. "He'll act like most people I used to know. He'll say he's sorry and soon enough, I'll be told it's too risky for me to go off-world. I'm sure if they could, they'd send me back to Earth asap."
"Were you military, I would put you in the brig for being so dumb!" he says through clenched teeth. She cringes. "What were you thinking, damn it?! I should punish you for it, should ask Elizabeth to remove you from the mission logs for the time being, just to teach you a lesson!" he adds, his finger pointing at her menacingly. Her eyes are brimming with tears. She was right from beginning to end. He's going to give her the sack, now he knows. "But I need your expertise and company too much, you minx! Now, let's be clear about one thing," he adds, looming over her, "You hide something vital to the success of a mission and you can be damn sure you'll spend the rest of your time with a marine assigned to your protection wherever you go, including inside the City, capice?"
She nods. "You're not pissed because I'm diabetic?" she asks in a small voice.
"Why should I be pissed at something that is not your fault? Now, being stupid, Ma'am, that's your fault for sure!" he mocks her.
She brushes her tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she apologizes.
"Shut up! I hate weak women," he banters. "Let's get the dishes done and go to bed. I have the feeling you'll need the rest as much as I do."
TBC
I apologize for any clumsiness you might stumble upon. I'm endeavoring to do as best as I can. All mistakes are mine. Don't hesitate to point them to me so I may correct them.