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sga_flashficTitle: “The Unkindest Cut” (4/5)
Authors: Everybetty and Kristen999
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through season 2. Specifically “Conversion”
Challenge: Sickness
Length: 24,400 words
Summary: CAUTION: The Pegasus Galaxy contains many dangers. Like football, giant space ostriches, and sharp edges.
Genre: H/C and Humor.
Notes: Made it in by the skin of our teeth! Want to thank the mods for extending the deadline. Once we heard about this challenge, Beth and I could not resist temptation.
From the moment the allotted time that Sheppard had ordered had passed Ronon knew something was going badly. Put it down to senses honed by all the years he was running, call it intuition, or the odd but undeniable bond he’d made with this team, but the itch he got in his brain that told him when Wraith were coming or a gun was bearing down on him was there again. It raised the hackles on his neck and had his body humming with underplayed tension.
Twenty minutes had turned to an hour and there’d been no sign of Sheppard. Teyla had made it back to the jumper, oozing water and disgruntlement and she’d been late so he shook off the initial concerns he had and joined her in the relative warmth of the craft. He’d waved away the blanket Beckett thrust at him; he knew what true cold was when little was between you and the elements but leathers and skins scavenged from a dozen different planets. His Satedan uniform was but a distant memory, taken from him by the Wraith. They’d given him some of their own clothing when he was first released for his Run, but he’d quickly shed the alien feeling, Wraith-smelling garments as soon as he’d found replacements.
Beckett’s removal of the tracking device had been the first time he’d felt completely human and Wraith-free in seven years. That had been the beginning of it all- this new stage in his life. Malena and his squad left behind as ashes to be replaced by the Colonel, the warrior princess, the fidgety and annoying genius, and the doctor who had started it all. Sateda was left in rubble to be replaced by the towering spires of Atlantis.
“It’s been too long,” Beckett said with a sigh, speaking the words that Ronon had been thinking, and Teyla too by the way her face wrinkled with concern.
“I’m headed back out,” Ronon grunted by way of acknowledgement.
“You’ll not see anything out there, lad,” Beckett said, but in a way that told him he really wanted Ronon to go back out and look.
“Won’t see anything if I don’t look, doc.” And there was no beating that logic so Beckett nodded his head sadly and didn’t offer any more resistance.
The rain’s force hadn’t lessened- in fact the winds had picked up some and it was all Ronon could do to lean his body into the maelstrom and fight for every step. He let loose a volley from his gun, the red laser bursts quickly swallowed up by the dark, scattered by the sheets of water.
Placing a hand over his eyes trying to keep his vision clear he scanned the area for an answering blue - something to tell him Sheppard was still out there.
Grunting to himself when he found no sign he holstered his weapon and dug into the side of the hill, clambering against the torrents of water rushing back at him. Large chunks of the hillside were tumbling down at him; rocks and mud and small trees. The battered remains of a small creature washed by him, its body already broken and limp.
He forced his foot into a small crevice and hefted his weight up, grabbing for another handhold when he felt the ground beneath him give. He found himself falling-sliding back down the hill along with a massive chunk of earth and rocks and mud.
He struck the bottom with a breath-seizing thud, instinct the only thing saving him as he shoved himself back with his long legs as the mudslide attempted to bury him in bone-crushing rocks and dirt. A massive boulder struck the bottom where he’d been only a split second before and an avalanche of mud followed behind, covering the side of the jumper where it had been seated at the foot of the hill.
More trees and rocks continued to tumble down for several minutes, then quieted as Ronon sat sputtering rain out of his mouth as he stared angrily, incredulously at the jumper, its front section now half buried in hillside.
He swore in a combination of Satedan and epithets he’d picked up from the Earthers as he stared at the disaster, the rain washing away the mud that had covered him from head to foot but for some that had soaked into his dreaded hair braids.
Teyla emerged warily from the rear of the ship, her eyes alighting on him sitting on the ground. “Ronon! Are you all right?” she cried as she rushed over to crouch at his side.
“Mudslide,” he muttered shortly, his eyes still assessing the damage. “And I didn’t find Sheppard.”
“But are you all right, Ronon?” she repeated, fighting to be heard over the winds and rain, scanning his body for injury as he still sat in the foot deep water.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, planting a hand into the water with an angry splash as he hauled himself up. He winced and sucked in a breath as he felt the familiar pain of cracked ribs.
He took a few stumbling steps, wading through the shin deep waters to better see the extent of damage the slide had done. Teyla’s eyes grew wide as she too saw what had happened. The two began digging into the muck and mess, pulling away gobs of earth and rocks. A large yupa tree had been felled and was now leaning over the roof of the jumper.
The two warriors dug in, struggling to push the tree away but they couldn’t gain any traction beneath their feet.
“Ronon, it is no use!” Teyla shouted over the storm. “We should return to the jumper and radio for help!”
Ronon gave one final attempt at pulling the yupa from the ship, growling as he strained with every muscle and sinew he had. The effort pulled at his cracked ribs and he shouted with frustration as he dropped his arms in anger and defeat. He wrapped an arm around his chest and nodded shortly at Teyla, following her back to the shelter of the jumper where they pounded on the hatch for entrance.
Beckett pulled the door shut behind them, handing the blanket back to Teyla as she poured herself back onto the bench, her whole body quaking with cold.
“This is just bloody ridiculous!” Beckett yelled, stabbing at the air with his hands. “You both need to stay inside before you freeze to death. Och, what have you done to yourself, lad?” he asked, hurrying over when he saw Ronon’s arm tense around his chest.
“Ribs. I’m fine,” he said, dropping his arm in an attempt to prove it to the doctor.
“How’s about you let me be the judge of that?” he was asked with a raised eyebrow and hands already reaching out. Beckett was a stubborn man when it came to his team’s health and Ronon relented to the physician’s poking and prodding until he’d satisfied himself that cracked ribs was the extent of the injury. “Here! Take a blanket- I’ll not have you going into shock, you bloody great fool.”
Ronon paused, then decided it wasn’t worth the fight and while he was stronger than the average man, used to roughing it, and fending for himself he was still subject to the same needs as the average man. And he was cold. And he wouldn’t be able to go back out and look for Sheppard if he succumbed to hypothermia. So he took the blanket and muttered a thanks, wrapping it around his shoulders and leaning tiredly against the wall of the jumper.
“So, do I dare ask what that horrid beastly noise was?” Beckett asked, temporarily not needed, collapsing himself onto a bench.
Teyla glanced over at Ronon then turned to the doctor. “It was a mudslide. The jumper will not be able to take off.”
Beckett only nodded as if he was expecting this next set back. “Alrighty then. I say we get Lorne and a bunch of his men out searchin’ for Colonel Sheppard and then take us off this soggy planet.”
“We need to get back to the gate and dial out, doc,” Ronon reminded him. “If I could find the gate I could probably find Sheppard, but you can’t see an inch from your face out there.”
Beckett’s face fell. “Right, right,” he muttered. “How long ‘til they miss us?”
“I b-believe Colonel Sheppard mentioned something about wishing he had dental surgery scheduled for 1400 hours,” Teyla replied from where she was huddled under her blanket.
“Ah. Meeting with Kavanagh and his bunch, I‘ll wager,” Beckett said with a small smile. He glanced at his watch. “It’s 1300 now. Let’s just count on Kavanagh complainin’ when the colonel doesn’t show.”
He then slapped his hands with finality on his thighs. “Right then, my turn.” He stood and walked to the back hatch, preparing to leave, Ronon’s hand shooting out to grab his arm.
Before Ronon could protest there was a pounding on the outside of the jumper.
Beckett’s eyes lit up and he hurriedly opened the hatch, Teyla and Ronon right behind him.
Sheppard was leaning against the hull, his face alabaster pale where it wasn’t covered in mud, practically glowing in the darkness. And he appeared to be burdened with a heavy load on his back.
He took one step towards the craft, lurching badly and Ronon grabbed his arm while Beckett wrapped an arm around his waist to help the man back into the jumper, Teyla hastily shutting the hatch behind them.
As soon as Sheppard was inside he dropped face first onto the floor of the ship. The identity of his burden was soon clear as a small boy peeked his head up to look at the gathered group.
Ronon recognized the boy from the village and knelt down to work at the leather straps holding the toddler onto Sheppard’s back. The bindings were swollen, the knots impenetrable, so he pulled one of his thinnest knives out and slipped it underneath, cutting them apart with several well-placed slices.
“Bloody hell, Colonel!” Beckett said, concern and anger mixed in his voice. “What happened to twenty minutes? We were worried sick about you!”
“The boy” Sheppard gasped out between heaving breaths. “Broken leg… knew you couldn’t get up … rest are okay.”
Beckett went over to where Teyla held the crying toddler in her lap and checked the splint.
“Poor wee bairn’s cold as ice,” he said as he fussed over the child, pulling out one of the foil emergency blankets.
“Here, lass. Not much to be done ‘til we’re back in Atlantis. Try to wrap him up and keep him close. And you,” Beckett continued, wheeling around to see that Sheppard still lay sprawled on the floor. “Colonel? Are you hurt?”
When no answer was forthcoming but for the colonel shutting his eyes Beckett muttered, “Och! Of course you are.” He grabbed Sheppard’s arm to turn him over and gasped, placing his hand on the fallen man’s cheek. The doctor’s face deepened in a scowl. “You’re burnin’ up with fever. Probably the only reason you haven’t succumbed to hypothermia. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Sheppard didn’t answer, just lifted his head from the ground slightly only to begin coughing, deep from in his chest. Ronon was over in a flash, hooking his hand around Sheppard’s vest and hauling him over onto his back.
“Thanks,” Sheppard managed to get out before another coughing jag started. “Can’t… breathe… so good,” he panted out between coughs, and his hand was digging into his sternum.
Beckett snatched his med bag, hauling out a portable oxygen tank and was already placing the mask over Sheppard’s mouth before even completely unspooling the translucent green tubing. The pilot’s eyes closed down again and he fell limply against the floor of the jumper while Beckett fiddled with the dials on the tank.
Teyla laid the boy down on the bench then knelt down next to Sheppard and began to place one of the foil blankets over his shaking form when the doctor looked over. “No, lass. No blanket.”
“But is he not suffering as we are?”
“Aye, he’s probably cold but we need to leave him that way.” He plucked a digital thermometer from his bag and stuck it in the colonel’s ear, waited the few seconds for it to beep then scowled as he noted the reading. “101. And that’s after a good soaking in icy water.”
“Bloody hell,” Beckett bit out angrily. “This didn’t happen from being out in the rain, that’s for damn sure. Bugger’s probably been sick and didn’t need to tell the CMO. Stubborn--”
Ronon reached out and placed a hand on the physician, stilling his fretting for a moment.
But Beckett shook the hand off irritably, scowling as he dug deeper into his medbag and began pulling out boxes and bottles. “Don’t you say a word, Ronon. You’re just as bad as he is. The both of you, so convinced you’re above needin’ help.”
“Sheppard’s not above it. He knows he’s not,” Ronon replied calmly.
Beckett stopped and met eyes with the Satedan.
Ronon had spent almost as much time in the infirmary as Beckett had during Sheppard’s metamorphosis and subsequent long recovery. He’d stayed at Sheppard’s side as they all railed against what they thought was the inevitable. He’d been at Sheppard’s side again as the colonel went on that last desperate mission, carrying his dying body back to Beckett’s care. And he had held Sheppard firmly through the painful work the retrovirus cure had done, leaving the colonel thrashing in his bed while his body had undergone molecular and metabolic changes that affected every cell in his body.
“Aye, lad,” Beckett said with a long sigh. “Doesn’t mean he’s not going to get a lecture when he’s back out of the woods,” he said more kindly this time.
“All right. Let’s see what he did to himself this time.”
Ronon held Sheppard half up while Beckett divested the pilot of his jacket and outer shirt. It was like undressing a rag doll, the colonel still limp and unresponsive.
“Going to have to cut the tee off, I’m afraid,” the doctor muttered to himself as his practiced hand ran a pair of bandage scissors up the front of the under shirt. “Can’t take it off of him with the oxygen on,” he continued when Teyla raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
The colonel’s one arm had a deep laceration from his wrist over the top of his arm to the elbow and his chest held a few reddening areas where bruises would probably form, and some other older, already purpling bruises. Beckett quickly checked his ribs and stomach. “One small spot of luck,” the doctor murmured. He gave a quick look at the colonel’s back then nodded at Ronon to go ahead and lay the man back down again.
The doctor then ran the scissors up each pant leg, pulling the mud covered and ripped fabric off and tossing it into a sodden pile in the corner.
Sheppard’s legs were banged up from his scrambling up the rocky hillside. One leg had a long, deep scratch that ran from his shin to his thigh from a sharp rock or tree branch and watery blood still leaked to trickle out in rivulets that mixed with the mud.
The other leg’s kneecap had been sliced open and was already darkening with discoloration.
“Teyla, love, hand me that blanket would you?”
She did so, then cocked her head as she saw the doctor placing it over Sheppard.
“Carson, did you not say that John should not be covered?”
“Aye, I did, love. But I don’t think he would appreciate havin’ you seein’ him in his skivvies.”
“No,” came a croak from under the oxygen mask. Sheppard’s hand rose weakly to pull the mask aside. “No, he wouldn’t.” And he pulled the blanket up further onto his chest.
“Colonel, that’s not decoration, lad. Leave it on,” Beckett said, gently scolding as he tried to replace the oxygen mask.
Sheppard batted his hand away and tried to ease himself into a more comfortable position on the cold metal floor of the jumper.
“Why is it I always wake up without my clothes around you, doc?” Sheppard asked with a grimace.
Beckett was obviously not in the mood for jokes. “You have only yourself to blame for this, Colonel”, he huffed, planting hands on his hips. “You’ve got yourself into a right mess.”
“Just a cold, Carson,” Sheppard said, then began another series of deep, barking coughs.
“I think we’ve passed the sniffles and moved onto systemic infection, Colonel. I’m guessing you’ve been sick for a while…?”
Sheppard cast his eyes over at Ronon, but the Satedan was giving him no refuge, instead folding his arms across his chest with a slight wince as his ribs twinged.
“Maybe,” Sheppard conceded, closing his eyes tiredly beneath the concerned glare of the doctor. “Just tired of runnin’ to you with every sneeze, doc.”
“I imagine you were, lad,” Beckett said softly. “But I wish you’d have let me know. A blood test could have had you on antibiotics and given you a chance to fend whatever this is off before it got so deeply entrenched.”
Sheppard just nodded and began coughing again. After catching his breath and swallowing several times he reopened bleary eyes and looked over at the boy who slept on the bench.
“How’s Japeth?”
“The lad’s fine but for the leg,” Beckett said. “I’m hoping he’ll sleep until we get back and we can set it. I’ll give him a small sedative and some Tylenol and that should help.”
“When we get back… why aren’t we back yet? I’m good -- for now--” he amended as Beckett raised a querulous eyebrow at him. “You can go pilot this thing home, Carson.”
Ronon spoke up from his seat. “Mudslide. Covered the whole front of the jumper. We’re not going anywhere.”
Sheppard began trying to push himself up but Beckett didn’t even have time to stop him before he fell back down to start coughing again.
Teyla folded herself onto the floor next to Sheppard’s head.
“Perhaps I can make you a little more comfortable, Colonel?”
He gazed at her gratefully and allowed her help in propping himself up to rest his head on her leg.
“Guess I can’t get you any wetter, huh, Teyla,” Sheppard said with a tired smile. She raised a hand to wipe her nose where a drop of water had escaped her still sopping wet hair. “You look cold, too. Did the slide damage the jumper? Why aren’t the heaters working?”
“They are working, Colonel,” came the answer, not from Teyla. “It’s your thermostat that’s gone pear-shaped.” Beckett dropped down next to him carrying IV equipment.
“All right, lad. Let’s get you hooked up. Teyla, love, would you mind holding the colonel? He’s shaking like a leaf and we don’t want to have problems stickin’ him.”
“No, we don’t,” Sheppard agreed, staring challengingly at the doctor.
Teyla slid her arms around his shoulders and over his arms, her hands grasping him firmly but gently to keep him as still as possible.
Beckett swabbed away a clean spot in the mud with an alcohol swab, then slid the needle home with nary a flinch from his patient.
“There we go, all in. Well done,” Beckett said as he hung a bag of fluids above them. “Thank you, Teyla. You can let go of him now.”
“If I c-c-an’t have T-Teyla… can I at l-least have a b-b-blanket?” Sheppard asked as he lost the warmth of her arms. His shivering had worsened and Ronon could feel the vibrations from the pilot’s quaking on the metal floor reverberating up through the bench he sat on.
Beckett gazed sorrowfully at Sheppard. “Afraid not, John. It was only your time out in the elements that’s kept your temperature from hitting dangerous levels.”
He pulled the thermometer out and placed it back in Sheppard’s ear, his expression darkening as he read the results. “It’s still risin’ I’m afraid.”
“’f I’m so hot, why am I s-s-o f-f-f-f-rickin’ c-c-c-- ?” He never got to finish his question as he was seized by another horrible coughing jag. After it eased a bit Beckett snatched the O2 mask up from where it hung on Sheppard’s chest and placed it back over his mouth.
Sheppard’s hand rose to press the mask to his mouth, gulping at the oxygen with deep gasping, wheezing breaths. He finally settled a bit, letting his hand drop weakly to the floor.
“This sucks,” was clearly heard from under the plastic mask.
Ronon grinned in spite of himself. Sheppard always knew what was what and, as usual, had summed up the situation perfectly. “Teyla said you had something scheduled for today?”
Sheppard looked blankly at him, then he moved the mask aside as realization dawned on his face and his lips curled in a tired but triumphant smile. “Yeah…I did. D-d-damn it - I’m gonna miss it. Guess that’s d-d-doubly lucky.”
“Who’d have thought we’d all be countin’ on Kavanagh bein’ a pain in the arse,” Beckett chuckled as he injected medication into Sheppard’s IV port. “Don’t know about you all, but I’m feelin’ pretty confident right now.”
________________________________________________________________
“I’m telling you, McKay, I won’t tolerate this. I hold a position of respect around here--”
“Where? Where, Kavanagh, do you find anyone who respects you?” Rodney asked offhandedly as he pecked at his keyboard.
“That’s not funny, McKay. I had a team sitting in that conference room for twenty minutes and Sheppard just blew me off. I heard them laughing- laughing at me, I might add. I know Sheppard’s not a scientist- just a military flyboy, but I thought I had explained it in terms that he would understand. This proposal I have will work if he’d--”
“Yes, yes, Kavanagh. Sheppard told me he was actually mildly intrigued by your idea, although I, of course, had some issues with it. You completely neglected to figure in the --”
“I don’t care, McKay! My proposal wasn’t for you, it was for Sheppard. He’s the only one Weir listens to and --”
“What do you mean, he’s the only one Weir listens to?” Rodney spluttered as he rose up from his computer. “I’ll have you know that as the head of the sciences division, I have the ear of not only Dr. Weir but the entire SGC. You’re merely the ASS of the sciences division, Kavanagh. And what do you mean, Sheppard blew you off? I know for a fact he was planning on showing, though not necessarily with a smile on his face.”
“He. Never. Showed”, Kavanagh said, folding his long arms over his chest. “And Weir is going to hear about this.”
“Yes, yes, for once I agree with you,” Rodney muttered as he closed up his laptop. “Let’s go tell her, shall we?”
They found Elizabeth in her office and she looked up as the two men entered.
“Gentlemen?” She inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“Dr. Weir --”
“Elizabeth--”
“One at a time, gentlemen. Please. Rodney?”
“Told you,” Rodney said with a smug smile and a tip of his head towards the ponytailed scientist. “Sheppard never showed for Kavanagh’s meeting. Did he and the team come back from Planet Mallomar yet?”
Elizabeth smiled at the joke but then shook her head. Not that I’m aware of. She tapped her earpiece. “Chuck? Did Colonel Sheppard’s team arrive back yet?”
“No, ma’am. No activity in the gate room since they left this morning and no incoming transmissions.”
“Thank you,” she answered distractedly, tapping her ear once more, then closing her laptop. “Rodney? Did John mention anything to you about his plans?”
“Just that he and Beckett were going back to the village to check on an injured Mallomaran. You’re not worried, are you, Elizabeth?” he asked, knowing she was and he was but keeping up appearances in front of his nemesis.
“It isn’t like him not to radio in if he’s going to be delayed,” she mused.
“There was nothing on that planet, Elizabeth. Dust and giant ostriches and fruit trees. Their science hasn’t developed much beyond the wheel.”
“Exactly, Rodney. So what could it be that would keep John there any longer than necessary?”
“Good point. I’ll get Lorne and take a jumper down there.”
__________________________________________________________________
Carson finished giving the boy a sip of water and checked the toddler’s temperature with a hand on his forehead. He checked the IV he’d set up as he had no children’s liquid meds for the boy and he couldn’t imagine the child swallowing a bunch of pills.
“You’re a brave lad,” he said with a smile of reassurance. “Just go on back to sleep now.” He pulled the blanket back up over the small shoulders and waited until the child had fallen back asleep before injecting the contents of the syringe into the port. “That’ll make you feel much better, son,” he soothed.
He stood with a sigh. One easy patient he could make comfortable with some Tylenol and a sedative. His other was miserable and his condition was growing worse by the hour.
Teyla looked up from where she still sat on the floor with Sheppard’s head in her lap. The colonel had deteriorated further and faster than Carson could keep up with. His quaking had never subsided and his fever had risen to 105.
“The Tylenol’s not enough,” Carson said quietly. “And I don’t think we have time to wait for a rescue. He needs to be cooled down now.”
“Perhaps we could get some mud from outside? It would retain the cold if we applied it to his body.”
“That’s a good idea, lass, but it would take too long to gather enough to do him any good. No, I think we need to get him back outside. Ronon?”
The Satedan was uncurled from his seat in a flash, standing at Sheppard’s feet, obviously eager to finally be useful.
“Careful of the oxygen and IV,” Carson said as he squatted down to gather up the tubing. “Teyla, love, can you help me with this end?”
Carson and Teyla lifted Sheppard into a sitting position and Ronon grabbed him up by the armpits and hauled him to his feet.
Sheppard awakened a bit from his delirium and blinked fuzzily around. “Wha--? Where --”
“Sorry, lad,” Carson said as he made his way to the hatch. “I can only promise you we’re doing this for your own good.”
Teyla slipped one arm over her shoulder, Ronon the other, and they began walking Sheppard forward, his body limp as cooked spaghetti between them. Until he felt the first blast of icy air hit his bare skin.
“What are you --? Why--?”
Sick or not, Sheppard had a wiry strength that belied his slender build. Teyla fought to keep his hand firmly in hers as he squirmed to get free. “Colonel- John, please. We need to get you outside, your fever is too high.”
“Doc says we need to do this, Sheppard,” Ronon said calmly, then wrapped his arm around the colonel’s waist and began to bodily haul him out the hatch.
“No… stop…” Sheppard made one final attempt to break free, the arm with the IV in it wrenching away, dislodging the needle as he did so.
“Bloody hell!” Carson yelled. The wind and rain was whipping into the tiny craft now and the floor was slippery with water and the blood that ran from Sheppard’s arm. “Don’t worry about the IV, just get him out here!”
Teyla grabbed the flailing arm and placed it back over her shoulders, gripping his wrist tightly as they carried Sheppard down the ramp.
The floodwaters at the bottom were now almost three feet high and they waded in hip deep, Sheppard still fighting between them.
“Lower him into the water!” Carson shouted over the howl of the winds. “I’ve got the oxygen!”
Teyla and Ronon began to bend at the knee, allowing gravity and the man’s weakness to fold Sheppard’s body down slowly. He let out a pathetic cry as his body was immersed in the freezing water but his teammates kept a firm grip on him, holding him so his head was the only part of him uncovered.
His legs kicked feebly as he continued to protest, stirring up icy, mud saturated water in small splashes.
“What the hell are you people doing?”
The group turned as a flashlight beam flared into view, scanning their faces from an unknown source.
The light was lowered and Rodney and Lorne and two Marines stood in the hip deep water, staring at the spectacle of the colonel thrashing around in the muddy water while his teammates held him down.
__________________________________________________________________
Authors: Everybetty and Kristen999
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through season 2. Specifically “Conversion”
Challenge: Sickness
Length: 24,400 words
Summary: CAUTION: The Pegasus Galaxy contains many dangers. Like football, giant space ostriches, and sharp edges.
Genre: H/C and Humor.
Notes: Made it in by the skin of our teeth! Want to thank the mods for extending the deadline. Once we heard about this challenge, Beth and I could not resist temptation.
From the moment the allotted time that Sheppard had ordered had passed Ronon knew something was going badly. Put it down to senses honed by all the years he was running, call it intuition, or the odd but undeniable bond he’d made with this team, but the itch he got in his brain that told him when Wraith were coming or a gun was bearing down on him was there again. It raised the hackles on his neck and had his body humming with underplayed tension.
Twenty minutes had turned to an hour and there’d been no sign of Sheppard. Teyla had made it back to the jumper, oozing water and disgruntlement and she’d been late so he shook off the initial concerns he had and joined her in the relative warmth of the craft. He’d waved away the blanket Beckett thrust at him; he knew what true cold was when little was between you and the elements but leathers and skins scavenged from a dozen different planets. His Satedan uniform was but a distant memory, taken from him by the Wraith. They’d given him some of their own clothing when he was first released for his Run, but he’d quickly shed the alien feeling, Wraith-smelling garments as soon as he’d found replacements.
Beckett’s removal of the tracking device had been the first time he’d felt completely human and Wraith-free in seven years. That had been the beginning of it all- this new stage in his life. Malena and his squad left behind as ashes to be replaced by the Colonel, the warrior princess, the fidgety and annoying genius, and the doctor who had started it all. Sateda was left in rubble to be replaced by the towering spires of Atlantis.
“It’s been too long,” Beckett said with a sigh, speaking the words that Ronon had been thinking, and Teyla too by the way her face wrinkled with concern.
“I’m headed back out,” Ronon grunted by way of acknowledgement.
“You’ll not see anything out there, lad,” Beckett said, but in a way that told him he really wanted Ronon to go back out and look.
“Won’t see anything if I don’t look, doc.” And there was no beating that logic so Beckett nodded his head sadly and didn’t offer any more resistance.
The rain’s force hadn’t lessened- in fact the winds had picked up some and it was all Ronon could do to lean his body into the maelstrom and fight for every step. He let loose a volley from his gun, the red laser bursts quickly swallowed up by the dark, scattered by the sheets of water.
Placing a hand over his eyes trying to keep his vision clear he scanned the area for an answering blue - something to tell him Sheppard was still out there.
Grunting to himself when he found no sign he holstered his weapon and dug into the side of the hill, clambering against the torrents of water rushing back at him. Large chunks of the hillside were tumbling down at him; rocks and mud and small trees. The battered remains of a small creature washed by him, its body already broken and limp.
He forced his foot into a small crevice and hefted his weight up, grabbing for another handhold when he felt the ground beneath him give. He found himself falling-sliding back down the hill along with a massive chunk of earth and rocks and mud.
He struck the bottom with a breath-seizing thud, instinct the only thing saving him as he shoved himself back with his long legs as the mudslide attempted to bury him in bone-crushing rocks and dirt. A massive boulder struck the bottom where he’d been only a split second before and an avalanche of mud followed behind, covering the side of the jumper where it had been seated at the foot of the hill.
More trees and rocks continued to tumble down for several minutes, then quieted as Ronon sat sputtering rain out of his mouth as he stared angrily, incredulously at the jumper, its front section now half buried in hillside.
He swore in a combination of Satedan and epithets he’d picked up from the Earthers as he stared at the disaster, the rain washing away the mud that had covered him from head to foot but for some that had soaked into his dreaded hair braids.
Teyla emerged warily from the rear of the ship, her eyes alighting on him sitting on the ground. “Ronon! Are you all right?” she cried as she rushed over to crouch at his side.
“Mudslide,” he muttered shortly, his eyes still assessing the damage. “And I didn’t find Sheppard.”
“But are you all right, Ronon?” she repeated, fighting to be heard over the winds and rain, scanning his body for injury as he still sat in the foot deep water.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, planting a hand into the water with an angry splash as he hauled himself up. He winced and sucked in a breath as he felt the familiar pain of cracked ribs.
He took a few stumbling steps, wading through the shin deep waters to better see the extent of damage the slide had done. Teyla’s eyes grew wide as she too saw what had happened. The two began digging into the muck and mess, pulling away gobs of earth and rocks. A large yupa tree had been felled and was now leaning over the roof of the jumper.
The two warriors dug in, struggling to push the tree away but they couldn’t gain any traction beneath their feet.
“Ronon, it is no use!” Teyla shouted over the storm. “We should return to the jumper and radio for help!”
Ronon gave one final attempt at pulling the yupa from the ship, growling as he strained with every muscle and sinew he had. The effort pulled at his cracked ribs and he shouted with frustration as he dropped his arms in anger and defeat. He wrapped an arm around his chest and nodded shortly at Teyla, following her back to the shelter of the jumper where they pounded on the hatch for entrance.
Beckett pulled the door shut behind them, handing the blanket back to Teyla as she poured herself back onto the bench, her whole body quaking with cold.
“This is just bloody ridiculous!” Beckett yelled, stabbing at the air with his hands. “You both need to stay inside before you freeze to death. Och, what have you done to yourself, lad?” he asked, hurrying over when he saw Ronon’s arm tense around his chest.
“Ribs. I’m fine,” he said, dropping his arm in an attempt to prove it to the doctor.
“How’s about you let me be the judge of that?” he was asked with a raised eyebrow and hands already reaching out. Beckett was a stubborn man when it came to his team’s health and Ronon relented to the physician’s poking and prodding until he’d satisfied himself that cracked ribs was the extent of the injury. “Here! Take a blanket- I’ll not have you going into shock, you bloody great fool.”
Ronon paused, then decided it wasn’t worth the fight and while he was stronger than the average man, used to roughing it, and fending for himself he was still subject to the same needs as the average man. And he was cold. And he wouldn’t be able to go back out and look for Sheppard if he succumbed to hypothermia. So he took the blanket and muttered a thanks, wrapping it around his shoulders and leaning tiredly against the wall of the jumper.
“So, do I dare ask what that horrid beastly noise was?” Beckett asked, temporarily not needed, collapsing himself onto a bench.
Teyla glanced over at Ronon then turned to the doctor. “It was a mudslide. The jumper will not be able to take off.”
Beckett only nodded as if he was expecting this next set back. “Alrighty then. I say we get Lorne and a bunch of his men out searchin’ for Colonel Sheppard and then take us off this soggy planet.”
“We need to get back to the gate and dial out, doc,” Ronon reminded him. “If I could find the gate I could probably find Sheppard, but you can’t see an inch from your face out there.”
Beckett’s face fell. “Right, right,” he muttered. “How long ‘til they miss us?”
“I b-believe Colonel Sheppard mentioned something about wishing he had dental surgery scheduled for 1400 hours,” Teyla replied from where she was huddled under her blanket.
“Ah. Meeting with Kavanagh and his bunch, I‘ll wager,” Beckett said with a small smile. He glanced at his watch. “It’s 1300 now. Let’s just count on Kavanagh complainin’ when the colonel doesn’t show.”
He then slapped his hands with finality on his thighs. “Right then, my turn.” He stood and walked to the back hatch, preparing to leave, Ronon’s hand shooting out to grab his arm.
Before Ronon could protest there was a pounding on the outside of the jumper.
Beckett’s eyes lit up and he hurriedly opened the hatch, Teyla and Ronon right behind him.
Sheppard was leaning against the hull, his face alabaster pale where it wasn’t covered in mud, practically glowing in the darkness. And he appeared to be burdened with a heavy load on his back.
He took one step towards the craft, lurching badly and Ronon grabbed his arm while Beckett wrapped an arm around his waist to help the man back into the jumper, Teyla hastily shutting the hatch behind them.
As soon as Sheppard was inside he dropped face first onto the floor of the ship. The identity of his burden was soon clear as a small boy peeked his head up to look at the gathered group.
Ronon recognized the boy from the village and knelt down to work at the leather straps holding the toddler onto Sheppard’s back. The bindings were swollen, the knots impenetrable, so he pulled one of his thinnest knives out and slipped it underneath, cutting them apart with several well-placed slices.
“Bloody hell, Colonel!” Beckett said, concern and anger mixed in his voice. “What happened to twenty minutes? We were worried sick about you!”
“The boy” Sheppard gasped out between heaving breaths. “Broken leg… knew you couldn’t get up … rest are okay.”
Beckett went over to where Teyla held the crying toddler in her lap and checked the splint.
“Poor wee bairn’s cold as ice,” he said as he fussed over the child, pulling out one of the foil emergency blankets.
“Here, lass. Not much to be done ‘til we’re back in Atlantis. Try to wrap him up and keep him close. And you,” Beckett continued, wheeling around to see that Sheppard still lay sprawled on the floor. “Colonel? Are you hurt?”
When no answer was forthcoming but for the colonel shutting his eyes Beckett muttered, “Och! Of course you are.” He grabbed Sheppard’s arm to turn him over and gasped, placing his hand on the fallen man’s cheek. The doctor’s face deepened in a scowl. “You’re burnin’ up with fever. Probably the only reason you haven’t succumbed to hypothermia. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Sheppard didn’t answer, just lifted his head from the ground slightly only to begin coughing, deep from in his chest. Ronon was over in a flash, hooking his hand around Sheppard’s vest and hauling him over onto his back.
“Thanks,” Sheppard managed to get out before another coughing jag started. “Can’t… breathe… so good,” he panted out between coughs, and his hand was digging into his sternum.
Beckett snatched his med bag, hauling out a portable oxygen tank and was already placing the mask over Sheppard’s mouth before even completely unspooling the translucent green tubing. The pilot’s eyes closed down again and he fell limply against the floor of the jumper while Beckett fiddled with the dials on the tank.
Teyla laid the boy down on the bench then knelt down next to Sheppard and began to place one of the foil blankets over his shaking form when the doctor looked over. “No, lass. No blanket.”
“But is he not suffering as we are?”
“Aye, he’s probably cold but we need to leave him that way.” He plucked a digital thermometer from his bag and stuck it in the colonel’s ear, waited the few seconds for it to beep then scowled as he noted the reading. “101. And that’s after a good soaking in icy water.”
“Bloody hell,” Beckett bit out angrily. “This didn’t happen from being out in the rain, that’s for damn sure. Bugger’s probably been sick and didn’t need to tell the CMO. Stubborn--”
Ronon reached out and placed a hand on the physician, stilling his fretting for a moment.
But Beckett shook the hand off irritably, scowling as he dug deeper into his medbag and began pulling out boxes and bottles. “Don’t you say a word, Ronon. You’re just as bad as he is. The both of you, so convinced you’re above needin’ help.”
“Sheppard’s not above it. He knows he’s not,” Ronon replied calmly.
Beckett stopped and met eyes with the Satedan.
Ronon had spent almost as much time in the infirmary as Beckett had during Sheppard’s metamorphosis and subsequent long recovery. He’d stayed at Sheppard’s side as they all railed against what they thought was the inevitable. He’d been at Sheppard’s side again as the colonel went on that last desperate mission, carrying his dying body back to Beckett’s care. And he had held Sheppard firmly through the painful work the retrovirus cure had done, leaving the colonel thrashing in his bed while his body had undergone molecular and metabolic changes that affected every cell in his body.
“Aye, lad,” Beckett said with a long sigh. “Doesn’t mean he’s not going to get a lecture when he’s back out of the woods,” he said more kindly this time.
“All right. Let’s see what he did to himself this time.”
Ronon held Sheppard half up while Beckett divested the pilot of his jacket and outer shirt. It was like undressing a rag doll, the colonel still limp and unresponsive.
“Going to have to cut the tee off, I’m afraid,” the doctor muttered to himself as his practiced hand ran a pair of bandage scissors up the front of the under shirt. “Can’t take it off of him with the oxygen on,” he continued when Teyla raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
The colonel’s one arm had a deep laceration from his wrist over the top of his arm to the elbow and his chest held a few reddening areas where bruises would probably form, and some other older, already purpling bruises. Beckett quickly checked his ribs and stomach. “One small spot of luck,” the doctor murmured. He gave a quick look at the colonel’s back then nodded at Ronon to go ahead and lay the man back down again.
The doctor then ran the scissors up each pant leg, pulling the mud covered and ripped fabric off and tossing it into a sodden pile in the corner.
Sheppard’s legs were banged up from his scrambling up the rocky hillside. One leg had a long, deep scratch that ran from his shin to his thigh from a sharp rock or tree branch and watery blood still leaked to trickle out in rivulets that mixed with the mud.
The other leg’s kneecap had been sliced open and was already darkening with discoloration.
“Teyla, love, hand me that blanket would you?”
She did so, then cocked her head as she saw the doctor placing it over Sheppard.
“Carson, did you not say that John should not be covered?”
“Aye, I did, love. But I don’t think he would appreciate havin’ you seein’ him in his skivvies.”
“No,” came a croak from under the oxygen mask. Sheppard’s hand rose weakly to pull the mask aside. “No, he wouldn’t.” And he pulled the blanket up further onto his chest.
“Colonel, that’s not decoration, lad. Leave it on,” Beckett said, gently scolding as he tried to replace the oxygen mask.
Sheppard batted his hand away and tried to ease himself into a more comfortable position on the cold metal floor of the jumper.
“Why is it I always wake up without my clothes around you, doc?” Sheppard asked with a grimace.
Beckett was obviously not in the mood for jokes. “You have only yourself to blame for this, Colonel”, he huffed, planting hands on his hips. “You’ve got yourself into a right mess.”
“Just a cold, Carson,” Sheppard said, then began another series of deep, barking coughs.
“I think we’ve passed the sniffles and moved onto systemic infection, Colonel. I’m guessing you’ve been sick for a while…?”
Sheppard cast his eyes over at Ronon, but the Satedan was giving him no refuge, instead folding his arms across his chest with a slight wince as his ribs twinged.
“Maybe,” Sheppard conceded, closing his eyes tiredly beneath the concerned glare of the doctor. “Just tired of runnin’ to you with every sneeze, doc.”
“I imagine you were, lad,” Beckett said softly. “But I wish you’d have let me know. A blood test could have had you on antibiotics and given you a chance to fend whatever this is off before it got so deeply entrenched.”
Sheppard just nodded and began coughing again. After catching his breath and swallowing several times he reopened bleary eyes and looked over at the boy who slept on the bench.
“How’s Japeth?”
“The lad’s fine but for the leg,” Beckett said. “I’m hoping he’ll sleep until we get back and we can set it. I’ll give him a small sedative and some Tylenol and that should help.”
“When we get back… why aren’t we back yet? I’m good -- for now--” he amended as Beckett raised a querulous eyebrow at him. “You can go pilot this thing home, Carson.”
Ronon spoke up from his seat. “Mudslide. Covered the whole front of the jumper. We’re not going anywhere.”
Sheppard began trying to push himself up but Beckett didn’t even have time to stop him before he fell back down to start coughing again.
Teyla folded herself onto the floor next to Sheppard’s head.
“Perhaps I can make you a little more comfortable, Colonel?”
He gazed at her gratefully and allowed her help in propping himself up to rest his head on her leg.
“Guess I can’t get you any wetter, huh, Teyla,” Sheppard said with a tired smile. She raised a hand to wipe her nose where a drop of water had escaped her still sopping wet hair. “You look cold, too. Did the slide damage the jumper? Why aren’t the heaters working?”
“They are working, Colonel,” came the answer, not from Teyla. “It’s your thermostat that’s gone pear-shaped.” Beckett dropped down next to him carrying IV equipment.
“All right, lad. Let’s get you hooked up. Teyla, love, would you mind holding the colonel? He’s shaking like a leaf and we don’t want to have problems stickin’ him.”
“No, we don’t,” Sheppard agreed, staring challengingly at the doctor.
Teyla slid her arms around his shoulders and over his arms, her hands grasping him firmly but gently to keep him as still as possible.
Beckett swabbed away a clean spot in the mud with an alcohol swab, then slid the needle home with nary a flinch from his patient.
“There we go, all in. Well done,” Beckett said as he hung a bag of fluids above them. “Thank you, Teyla. You can let go of him now.”
“If I c-c-an’t have T-Teyla… can I at l-least have a b-b-blanket?” Sheppard asked as he lost the warmth of her arms. His shivering had worsened and Ronon could feel the vibrations from the pilot’s quaking on the metal floor reverberating up through the bench he sat on.
Beckett gazed sorrowfully at Sheppard. “Afraid not, John. It was only your time out in the elements that’s kept your temperature from hitting dangerous levels.”
He pulled the thermometer out and placed it back in Sheppard’s ear, his expression darkening as he read the results. “It’s still risin’ I’m afraid.”
“’f I’m so hot, why am I s-s-o f-f-f-f-rickin’ c-c-c-- ?” He never got to finish his question as he was seized by another horrible coughing jag. After it eased a bit Beckett snatched the O2 mask up from where it hung on Sheppard’s chest and placed it back over his mouth.
Sheppard’s hand rose to press the mask to his mouth, gulping at the oxygen with deep gasping, wheezing breaths. He finally settled a bit, letting his hand drop weakly to the floor.
“This sucks,” was clearly heard from under the plastic mask.
Ronon grinned in spite of himself. Sheppard always knew what was what and, as usual, had summed up the situation perfectly. “Teyla said you had something scheduled for today?”
Sheppard looked blankly at him, then he moved the mask aside as realization dawned on his face and his lips curled in a tired but triumphant smile. “Yeah…I did. D-d-damn it - I’m gonna miss it. Guess that’s d-d-doubly lucky.”
“Who’d have thought we’d all be countin’ on Kavanagh bein’ a pain in the arse,” Beckett chuckled as he injected medication into Sheppard’s IV port. “Don’t know about you all, but I’m feelin’ pretty confident right now.”
________________________________________________________________
“I’m telling you, McKay, I won’t tolerate this. I hold a position of respect around here--”
“Where? Where, Kavanagh, do you find anyone who respects you?” Rodney asked offhandedly as he pecked at his keyboard.
“That’s not funny, McKay. I had a team sitting in that conference room for twenty minutes and Sheppard just blew me off. I heard them laughing- laughing at me, I might add. I know Sheppard’s not a scientist- just a military flyboy, but I thought I had explained it in terms that he would understand. This proposal I have will work if he’d--”
“Yes, yes, Kavanagh. Sheppard told me he was actually mildly intrigued by your idea, although I, of course, had some issues with it. You completely neglected to figure in the --”
“I don’t care, McKay! My proposal wasn’t for you, it was for Sheppard. He’s the only one Weir listens to and --”
“What do you mean, he’s the only one Weir listens to?” Rodney spluttered as he rose up from his computer. “I’ll have you know that as the head of the sciences division, I have the ear of not only Dr. Weir but the entire SGC. You’re merely the ASS of the sciences division, Kavanagh. And what do you mean, Sheppard blew you off? I know for a fact he was planning on showing, though not necessarily with a smile on his face.”
“He. Never. Showed”, Kavanagh said, folding his long arms over his chest. “And Weir is going to hear about this.”
“Yes, yes, for once I agree with you,” Rodney muttered as he closed up his laptop. “Let’s go tell her, shall we?”
They found Elizabeth in her office and she looked up as the two men entered.
“Gentlemen?” She inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“Dr. Weir --”
“Elizabeth--”
“One at a time, gentlemen. Please. Rodney?”
“Told you,” Rodney said with a smug smile and a tip of his head towards the ponytailed scientist. “Sheppard never showed for Kavanagh’s meeting. Did he and the team come back from Planet Mallomar yet?”
Elizabeth smiled at the joke but then shook her head. Not that I’m aware of. She tapped her earpiece. “Chuck? Did Colonel Sheppard’s team arrive back yet?”
“No, ma’am. No activity in the gate room since they left this morning and no incoming transmissions.”
“Thank you,” she answered distractedly, tapping her ear once more, then closing her laptop. “Rodney? Did John mention anything to you about his plans?”
“Just that he and Beckett were going back to the village to check on an injured Mallomaran. You’re not worried, are you, Elizabeth?” he asked, knowing she was and he was but keeping up appearances in front of his nemesis.
“It isn’t like him not to radio in if he’s going to be delayed,” she mused.
“There was nothing on that planet, Elizabeth. Dust and giant ostriches and fruit trees. Their science hasn’t developed much beyond the wheel.”
“Exactly, Rodney. So what could it be that would keep John there any longer than necessary?”
“Good point. I’ll get Lorne and take a jumper down there.”
__________________________________________________________________
Carson finished giving the boy a sip of water and checked the toddler’s temperature with a hand on his forehead. He checked the IV he’d set up as he had no children’s liquid meds for the boy and he couldn’t imagine the child swallowing a bunch of pills.
“You’re a brave lad,” he said with a smile of reassurance. “Just go on back to sleep now.” He pulled the blanket back up over the small shoulders and waited until the child had fallen back asleep before injecting the contents of the syringe into the port. “That’ll make you feel much better, son,” he soothed.
He stood with a sigh. One easy patient he could make comfortable with some Tylenol and a sedative. His other was miserable and his condition was growing worse by the hour.
Teyla looked up from where she still sat on the floor with Sheppard’s head in her lap. The colonel had deteriorated further and faster than Carson could keep up with. His quaking had never subsided and his fever had risen to 105.
“The Tylenol’s not enough,” Carson said quietly. “And I don’t think we have time to wait for a rescue. He needs to be cooled down now.”
“Perhaps we could get some mud from outside? It would retain the cold if we applied it to his body.”
“That’s a good idea, lass, but it would take too long to gather enough to do him any good. No, I think we need to get him back outside. Ronon?”
The Satedan was uncurled from his seat in a flash, standing at Sheppard’s feet, obviously eager to finally be useful.
“Careful of the oxygen and IV,” Carson said as he squatted down to gather up the tubing. “Teyla, love, can you help me with this end?”
Carson and Teyla lifted Sheppard into a sitting position and Ronon grabbed him up by the armpits and hauled him to his feet.
Sheppard awakened a bit from his delirium and blinked fuzzily around. “Wha--? Where --”
“Sorry, lad,” Carson said as he made his way to the hatch. “I can only promise you we’re doing this for your own good.”
Teyla slipped one arm over her shoulder, Ronon the other, and they began walking Sheppard forward, his body limp as cooked spaghetti between them. Until he felt the first blast of icy air hit his bare skin.
“What are you --? Why--?”
Sick or not, Sheppard had a wiry strength that belied his slender build. Teyla fought to keep his hand firmly in hers as he squirmed to get free. “Colonel- John, please. We need to get you outside, your fever is too high.”
“Doc says we need to do this, Sheppard,” Ronon said calmly, then wrapped his arm around the colonel’s waist and began to bodily haul him out the hatch.
“No… stop…” Sheppard made one final attempt to break free, the arm with the IV in it wrenching away, dislodging the needle as he did so.
“Bloody hell!” Carson yelled. The wind and rain was whipping into the tiny craft now and the floor was slippery with water and the blood that ran from Sheppard’s arm. “Don’t worry about the IV, just get him out here!”
Teyla grabbed the flailing arm and placed it back over her shoulders, gripping his wrist tightly as they carried Sheppard down the ramp.
The floodwaters at the bottom were now almost three feet high and they waded in hip deep, Sheppard still fighting between them.
“Lower him into the water!” Carson shouted over the howl of the winds. “I’ve got the oxygen!”
Teyla and Ronon began to bend at the knee, allowing gravity and the man’s weakness to fold Sheppard’s body down slowly. He let out a pathetic cry as his body was immersed in the freezing water but his teammates kept a firm grip on him, holding him so his head was the only part of him uncovered.
His legs kicked feebly as he continued to protest, stirring up icy, mud saturated water in small splashes.
“What the hell are you people doing?”
The group turned as a flashlight beam flared into view, scanning their faces from an unknown source.
The light was lowered and Rodney and Lorne and two Marines stood in the hip deep water, staring at the spectacle of the colonel thrashing around in the muddy water while his teammates held him down.
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