The Five Stages of Dessert by liketheriver (Cake or Death Challenge)

[liketheriverrun.livejournal.com]

Title: The Five Stages of Dessert
Author: liketheriver
Category: Gen/ angst/ h/c. Written for the cake or death challenge 
Word Count: ~6,300
Rating: T 
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, team
Warnings: None 
Spoilers: Set several months after Sunday and Keller is in the story but it doesn't spoil anything after that.
A/N:  My beta is without satellite this week so I'm flying solo on this one.
Summary: There was some strange connection, he had decided, between pastries and mourning. By the looks of things, he had obviously entered the buttercream stage, which evidently rested somewhere between denial and chocolate ganache if you combined the five stages of grief with a dessert menu.  

The Five Stages of Dessert

by liketheriver

 

 

There had been cake.

 

There was always cake at those sorts of things… cake and sandwiches and cheese and crackers and maybe some fruit, all served on tiny little plates with tiny little napkins that just seemed too small in comparison to the weight of the sorrow that filled the room. Carson’s mother had kept pushing food on him and even though Rodney hadn’t had one bit of appetite, he kept eating because it was the only time he saw the elderly woman attempt to smile.

 

There was some strange connection, he had decided, between pastries and mourning. By the looks of things, he had obviously entered the buttercream stage, which evidently rested somewhere between denial and chocolate ganache if you combined the five stages of grief with a dessert menu.  So that every time Mrs. Beckett had found him without a plate in hand, she had brought him a slice of cake. And every time she did, he thanked her and ate it. By the end of the day, he’d managed to choke down three large pieces and had spent half the night sitting next to the toilet in his hotel room fighting not to throw it back up again. Because as much as it would have been easier to puke it up, it somehow felt like yet another betrayal to Carson and his family if he couldn’t manage to keep down a few pieces of cake that had been served at his friend’s wake.

 

And here he was again, several months later, being faced with another damn piece of cake, as he sat in the infirmary beside Sheppard’s bed with Keller explaining her treatment regime just wasn’t working and it was really going to come down to John now.

 

Rodney pushed away the lunch tray someone had brought in, what little hunger he’d had completely disappearing at the news. Ronon punched the nearest wall, which had Keller taking an unconscious step back from the man and Teyla stepping toward him to rest a comforting hand on the Satedan’s shoulder, the muscles twitching and flinching at the touch before finally relaxing slightly. 

 

Elizabeth forced a half-smile at the physician. “I’m sure you’ve done everything you can.” 

 

“I’ll keep trying,” the doctor assured them, “but the bacteria are resistant to everything I’ve given him so far.”

 

Nodding in understanding, Elizabeth took in the three teammates spread around the room. “John’s a fighter. He’s never given up and we can’t give up either.”

 

“Elizabeth is right,” Teyla confirmed. “We all feared we would lose him when he was infected with the Wraith virus and yet he survived. We must not give up hope now.”

 

Rodney wanted to say, yeah, but Carson was the one that came up with the cure for that one, which just had him wondering if Carson were still here, would he have been able to save the day yet again? But Carson wasn’t here, was he? And given the news being delivered by his replacement, how much longer was Sheppard going to be around? That had him realizing he was on the verge of losing not just one but two of the closest friends he had ever had in his life within the span of a few months. And that had him wishing he’d never even taken a bite of anything on his tray, since he suddenly, once again, felt the need to camp out on the bathroom floor. 

 

Because, once again, he felt responsible for what had happened.

 

“McKay, exactly how much longer until we find this mysterious energy signature of yours?” 

 

Sheppard had stopped and smacked at the bug biting his neck even as Teyla waved a hand to swat away one of the buzzing insects before it could do the same to her. Ronon simply growled and flicked one from his arm. Rodney, however, had come prepared. When you lived your life one insect sting away from sudden death, you tended to apply bug repellent more liberally than deodorant. And both were definitely necessary in the humid swamp they were trekking through.

 

“Precisely fourteen minutes,” Rodney told him as he moved the detector in a slow arc in front of him, trying to once again to lock onto the elusive reading.

 

“Really?” the colonel asked. “How do you know?”

 

“I don’t,” McKay assured him. “But you wanted an answer and it seemed like the best way to get you to stop whining, so I gave you one.”

 

“I’m not whining,” Sheppard grumped.

 

“No, now you’re sulking.” Without waiting for a response, the physicist pointed off to their left. “That way.” And then he headed in that direction.

 

The rest of the team followed behind, at least for a few steps, and then Sheppard moved up to walk beside him. “I suddenly have the urge to watch The Empire Strikes Back when we get home.”

 

McKay considered for a second then admitted, “You know, finding a half-sunken X-Wing in the middle of the bog would be pretty damn exciting.”

 

“Finding anything in this swamp besides bugs and three-headed salamanders would be pretty damn exciting.” Sheppard peeked over at the detector in Rodney’s hand. “I’m having trouble believing that’s a real energy reading considering we haven’t seen any signs of civilization since we arrived.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” McKay beamed smugly. “Do you think the salamanders built that?”

 

And that’s when they found the fucking bridge.

 

Teyla’s hand landed on his shoulder, and Rodney realized with a start that he had dozed off in his seat in the infirmary. “Rodney, why do you not go back to your quarters and sleep? I will call you if there is any change.” With a confused glance around the room, Rodney saw that the two of them were the only ones still there… except for Sheppard, of course. “Ronon and Elizabeth have already left.” She smiled at him then, her expression battling to maintain the reassurance over her worry.

 

“Yeah, okay.” He stood, stretched out the kinks from the chair, and started for the door.

 

When he stopped and looked back, his teammate promised, “Any change and I will call you.”

 

With a final nod he left and made his way numbly down the hall, reached his room, and crawled on his bed in exhaustion. They’d been sitting with the colonel for well over thirty hours and his body was screaming for sleep. Unfortunately, his brain had other ideas, wandering into unfriendly territory as he stared unfocused at the tiles of his ceiling

 

He’d written letters of sympathy before. He’d lost more than a few of his staff members over the years to Wraith attacks, Ancient devices, Ancient nanoviruses, and just sheer dumb luck. And for every one of them, Elizabeth had insisted that he add a letter as the head of science on Atlantis. For most, he simply used what had become a form letter… your son/daughter served the mission admirably and contributed greatly to the scientific advances that we are making daily on the expedition. For some he was able to add a small personal note… he kept a picture of you as the screen saver on his computer, she often mentioned your letters before the morning briefings. And for a rare few, he could write a letter that really meant something… I will always remember Peter Grodin as one of the bravest men I have ever met in my life.

 

But then had come Carson and he’d known a letter just wouldn’t do. And as much as the thought of having to deliver the news to his family in person made him want to hide under his bed and refuse to go, he knew it needed to be done, and it needed to be done my him. It was part penance for what he hadn’t done with Carson that day, part respect for what Carson had done for him and his team over the years, and part regret for the loss of Carson’s friendship that wouldn’t be as long as he had always assumed it would.

 

The official story out the SGC wasn’t too far from the truth─ Carson had been treating a man booby trapped with a bomb and been killed when it detonated. But that wasn’t what Rodney went to tell his family. He went to tell them that Carson Beckett had saved his life more times than he could count, had saved his friends lived more times than that, and had been the type of guy that had become so much a part of his day, his routine, his life, that it felt like a piece of him had died in that explosion, too. It was the same thing he would tell Sheppard’s family if it came to that… if he had even had one to tell. And that thought had Rodney bolting from his room in a near panic.

 

When Elizabeth opened the door to her quarters, she pulled the bathrobe a little closer around her and squinted in confusion. “Rodney, what’s… oh, my God, is it John?”

 

“Did he ever tell you how to handle things if he died?” McKay blurted.

 

She paled at the question, hand going to her mouth. “Is he… did he…”

 

“Oh, no, no, no. Teyla hasn’t called and she said if anything happened she’d call. But I need to know; did he ever give you instructions on what to do if he died? Where to take the body? Who to send his personal effects to? Because he never told me so I thought maybe he had told you because I have no clue what I’m supposed to do if he doesn’t make it through this. I mean, who’s going to serve cake and greet the people offering their condolences and who am I supposed to tell that he was… how he… what he meant…” Rodney’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath. “Who am I supposed to tell, Elizabeth?”

 

He stared dumbly when Elizabeth reached out and gripped his forearm. “You won’t need to tell anyone, Rodney. Everyone that knows John already knows all those things about him.”

 

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” McKay admitted, still staring at her hand.

 

“Honestly, it doesn’t make me feel better either.”  She squeezed lightly before releasing him. “Now, go try to get some rest. I’m sure Colonel Sheppard will want to see you when he wakes up.” 

 

He made his way back through the corridors, passing his own room without a glance back. When he entered the infirmary again, Teyla looked up from where she sat in the seat he had vacated. “Rodney, I thought you were going to…”

 

McKay cut her off with an irritable wave of his hand, walking straight to the empty gurney on the far side of the room. “I am, I am.”

 

“And you are more comfortable here than in your own bed?” she asked dubiously when he curled on his side and faced the wall. 

 

Teyla had reason to be disbelieving given the way he complained endlessly about what the beds here in the infirmary did to his back whenever he was a patient. But at least here he could hear the heart monitor and know Sheppard was alive instead of just assuming it because he hadn’t heard otherwise, and that type of comfort didn’t come from an orthopedic mattress.

 

“You have no idea,” he assured and he could picture her smile as she replied.

 

“Actually, I do.”

 

He lay there listening to the heart monitor beep quietly, the occasional shift of Teyla in her seat, and the sound of her humming softly under her breath, and within minutes he was drifting to sleep.

 

The bridge across the expanse of olive green water looked like it was probably older than Yoda and built by anything but a technologically advanced race. Wooden planks were cinched together by ropes made from tightly wound grasses and it was suspended several meters above the swamp from the trunks of two of the large palm-like trees that grew out of the soggy ground around them.

 

“That doesn’t exactly have the tell-tell markings of Ancient architecture, McKay.”

 

Rodney rolled his eyes at Sheppard’s comment. “It’s old, but I seriously doubt it’s ten thousand years old, Colonel.”

 

Ronon’s brow creased as he studied the structure. “Close enough. I think we should just forget this energy signature and head back to Atlantis.”

 

“Oh, sure,” McKay scoffed. “When it’s giant mutated iratus bugs we want to leave behind it’s quitting, but when it’s a ZedPM we’re tracking down we should just go home and take the rest of the day off.”

 

Teyla’s eyebrows rose at the scientist’s challenge. “Is the reading truly strong enough to be a ZPM?”

 

“Well,” the scientist waffled, “maybe a partially charge one.” When his teammates regarded him as if he had just led them on a snipe hunt, Rodney raised a finger. “Which is also important to have as a backup. Or it could be a weapon, or a new shield technology, or any of a thousand other useful things.”

 

“Whatever it is, I don’t think we’re going to find it by crossing that bridge,” Ronon pointed out. “I guess we’ll have to swim across.”

 

Rodney grimaced as he took in the blue-green slime skimming across the surface of the water; water that even from this far above still smelled like rotten garbage. “Yeah, that’s just not going to happen.”

 

“Then we find a way around,” Teyla concluded with a reluctant sigh at the thought of spending even more time wandering through the marsh.

 

Sheppard studied the remnants of the bug he’d just smashed in his hand, studied the water, studied the bridge, and then studied McKay. “You really think this is something?”

 

“Look around.”  Rodney waved his arms at the wilderness surrounding them. “It’s not like there’s a lot out here to give me a false reading.” When the Colonel just stared at him waiting for a more definitive answer to his question, McKay told him, “Yes, I really think it’s something.”

 

“All right, I’ll check out the bridge,” Sheppard decided with a definitive nod.

 

“Do you really think that is a wise decision?” Teyla asked.

 

“No, not really,” he mumbled as he took a tentative step out onto the first plank. It held, so he moved to the next, testing it with a slight bounce. “It seems to be sturdy enough.” The next five held, as well, and Rodney was starting to think that maybe this bridge wasn’t nearly as dangerous as they had originally thought.

 

And that’s when Sheppard’s leg broke through the slat he was standing on. “Shit!”

 

All three of his teammates started forward and the Colonel yelled out, “No!  Stay back!” He had grabbed onto one of the vine ropes that made up the handrail, using it and his other leg that was slung across the bottom vine bracing to keep from falling all the way through to the water. “I don’t think this thing will support anyone else.”

 

“Sheppard, you okay?” Ronon shouted from over Rodney’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah.” Although his tone suggested that wasn’t exactly the case. “The wood scraped my leg up pretty good, but nothing serious.”

 

Teyla was already digging through her pack. “We will throw you a rope…”

 

But before she could finish her statement, the support his good leg was resting on broke. “Oh, hell.” And that’s when the vine he was clinging to snapped, as well.

 

“John!”

 

Teyla’s yell had Rodney jerking awake and it took her yelling, “We need help in here!” for him to realize he wasn’t dreaming about the swamp anymore.

 

Sheppard was convulsing, his heart rate going wild and causing the alarms to shriek. “Sheppard!” Rodney rolled off the gurney, staggering the few feet to the bed and demanding, “What the hell happened?”

 

“I do not know.” Teyla’s eyes widened in fear even as she fought to hold their friend down and Rodney quickly leaned in and put his weight into confining Sheppard’s opposite arm and shoulder.

 

The medical team arrived then, elbowing them both out of the way, and two teammates drifted to the foot of the bed, standing so close their arms were touching. Dr. Keller was calling for drugs in that very calm tone that doctors started using when they were very focused and determined and facing a hurdle they may not be able to overcome and Teyla slid her hand into Rodney’s. When the physician cursed and snapped at one of the nurses for not getting the ice packs placed around Sheppard’s body as fast as she felt they should be, the Athosian sucked in a breath and gripped Rodney’s hand tightly and Rodney realized he was squeezing hers just as desperately.

 

After several agonizing minutes, the tension seemed to subside and Sheppard’s heart rate evened out, and Teyla gave Rodney a slightly embarrassed smile and he released her hand with a mumbled apology. Teyla ignored it, taking the opportunity to catch the physician as she passed by.

 

“Jennifer? Is John…?”

 

“His fever spiked,” she informed them. “That’s what caused the convulsions. The ice packs should help with that.”

 

“So the new drug combination that you administered earlier?”

 

Keller shook her head in frustration. “It’s not working either. I’ll try something else,” she assured and left the room.

 

While Teyla called Ronon on the radio, Rodney moved to the grip the railings at the foot of Sheppard’s bed, looking at the pale form lying there totally oblivious to the activities taking place around him. “You always have to be center of attention, don’t you?” McKay mumbled with a shake of his head when the nurses finally cleared out. “Can’t share the limelight with anybody. But I swear you’ll get plenty of attention if you pull off the miraculous recovery. Besides, I hate to wear a suit and you hate to wear your dress blues and you know we’ll both be right back in them if you insist on following through with this John Sheppard memorial service plan you seem to have going here. Hell, I haven’t even had a chance to send mine back to Earth for dry cleaning. So, you see, you can’t do this because it’s too soon. I haven’t even had time to deal with the stain on my dress shirt, much less process what happened with Carson. So, I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to wait and die another time. Preferably many, many years from now. How’s ninety-five work for you? I think that qualifies as ripe, old age. I’ll pencil it in on my day planner. Does that sound good to you?” 

 

Sheppard didn’t give him a response. Not that McKay was really expecting one, but he had found himself waiting for it just the same. Finally, he confessed, “I shouldn’t have said I was sure that energy signature was significant. I mean, it might have been, but it wasn’t worth this.” 

 

Nothing was worth this.

 

Sheppard had surfaced within a few seconds of falling in the water, his head coated in slime and rank water running down his face. “I’m okay,” he gasped with a waved to the three people looking down anxiously from the cliff, spitting and shaking his head to clear his vision. “At least I will be once I spend the next week showering this crap off of me.”

 

Ronon, Teyla, and Rodney breathed a collected sigh of relief and set to work lowering the rope to him as he swam toward the edge of the quagmire.  Once he was up, they helped him slough out of his waterlogged backpack and field vest and Rodney volunteered the extra shirt he carried with him in his pack to use as a makeshift towel.

 

“We’re not going across the bridge,” the soaked man informed McKay.

 

“Ya’ think?” Rodney shook his head and acted as a human gatepost for Sheppard to lean against as he removed one of his boots and dumped the water from it.

 

“Oh, God, you reek.” 

 

McKay’s wince had the Colonel draping his arm around the scientist with a smirk. “If you think it smells bad, you should really taste it to get the full effect.”

 

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass… for numerous reasons.” Rodney tried to shrug out of Sheppard’s grip but the man just clung tighter out of pure spite.

 

“You’re bleeding,” Ronon pointed out and Sheppard glanced down at his shredded pant leg.

 

“Yeah, I kind of noticed that.” And Rodney realized the arm around his shoulder had just as much to do with taking the weight of his injured leg as it did with sharing his filth.

 

Teyla knelt and studied the gashes with a frown. “Ronon, give me your water so that I can clean it out before I bandage it.”

 

“So, what’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Sheppard teased the Athosian.

 

She lifted her head to give him an exasperated grin. “The wound itself is shallow and is not life-threatening. Your humor, however, is another story.”

 

“Well, except for the shallow part,” corrected McKay.

 

“The water’s pretty shallow, too. Do you want to check it out for yourself?”

 

The colonel’s threat had Rodney pulling a piece of slime from his vest front that had dripped off Sheppard’s arm. “That won’t be necessary, Colonel.”

 

Teyla set to work bandaging his leg and Sheppard leaned a little harder against McKay to keep his balance. “Sorry, Rodney, but it looks like you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to find your energy source.”

 

Ronon glanced across the expanse of broken bridge and slapped unconsciously at another bug. “At least we’ll know what we’re up against when we come back.”

 

The problem, as it turned out, was that they had no fucking clue what they were up against, which was why Sheppard was fighting for his life in the infirmary. Keller had found traces of a bacterial infection and reasoned the colonel had been exposed when he fell into the fetid water with the open cut. It was the most plausible explanation seeing as no one else on the team showed any signs of the illness. But it was evidently resistant to every antibiotic she tried.

 

When Ronon had returned to the hospital room, the three teammates took up their prior positions around the room. Rodney attempted to work on his laptop and got nowhere. Teyla attempted to meditate, but given the way she kept cracking her eyes open to watch Sheppard, it looked as if she was as unsuccessful at distracting herself as McKay was being. And Ronon alternately paced and leaned against the wall glaring at Sheppard, as if daring the man to piss him off further by actually dying on him.

 

They had another scare when the colonel went into respiratory distress and Keller had him put on a ventilator then turned to address his teammates. Rodney knew what was coming, had been dreading the moment it would, and it took all his will power to sit in his chair and not bolt for the door so that he didn’t have to hear what the physician had to say. Because if he didn’t hear it, then maybe he could pretend for a little longer that it wasn’t coming to this.

 

“I don’t want you to think I’m giving up here, but you are all probably aware that Colonel Sheppard has left instructions not to resuscitate him in a situation like this. I was hesitant to even use the ventilator, and given his steady decline…” She paused then, narrowing her eyes at Ronon who was scratching at his bicep. “What is that?”

 

The three of them looked at the Satedan’s arm and Rodney couldn’t help but wonder why in the world she would care about a bug bite at a time like this. “There were bugs in the swamp, they kept biting us.”

 

Keller’s eyes widened and she turned anxiously to McKay. “Like mosquitoes?”

 

“Yeah, pretty much, although their wings were wider and they were an iridescent green…”

 

But the physician had stopped listening after he had confirmed their mosquito-like nature. “Oh my God. It’s not a bacterial infection; it’s protozoan.”

 

“What?” Rodney demanded, and Teyla and Ronon just exchanged confused glances.

 

Jennifer, however, was already calling for blood samples. “I don’t know how I missed it, the symptoms are so similar to malaria, and given the swampy conditions… although there was a bacterial component and I didn’t see any protozoa in the original blood sample.” She was rambling along and let out a half laugh. “No wonder the antibiotics aren’t working. I wasn’t thinking Earth diseases; I mean we’re in a different galaxy for Pete’s sake.”

 

“You really think it’s malaria?” McKay asked hopefully.

 

“Well, the Pegasus equivalent anyway. There were no protozoa in the original blood sample but maybe that’s just because they’re an alien strain and they present differently than those on Earth.”  The woman started out the door, calling back to the medical staff in the room. “Get me that sample.”

 

The three sat blinking as she left, before Teyla eventually asked. “So this is good news?”

 

Rodney answered with a bit of his own confusion. “I think, maybe, it is.”

 

Because, when he stopped to think back on it, the symptoms were rather similar to malaria.

 

Sheppard was never late for a mission. Never. So,when Rodney had run into the gateroom expecting to see his three teammates waiting impatiently for him to arrive and only found Ronon and Teyla, he furrowed his brow. “Where’s Sheppard?”

 

“We thought, perhaps, he was with you,” Teyla answered with an equally baffled expression.

 

McKay had keyed his radio then. “Sheppard, this is McKay.” When he received no answer, he tried again. “Sheppard, we’re ready to return to MX8-955. Sheppard?”

 

If there was anything else they knew for a fact, it was that Sheppard always responded to his radio. As a result, the three of them headed out to look for him. Ronon took the pier where they went jogging, Teyla took the gym, and McKay took the least likely place– the colonel’s room. So, Rodney was more than a bit surprised when the door slid open to reveal a bleary-eyed Sheppard in boxers and t-shirt looking dazedly back at the physicist.

 

“McKay? What are you doing here?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing. We have a mission today. Remember?”

 

Running a hand through hair that was more disheveled than usual, he looked around in bewilderment, “What time is it?”

 

“Almost eight thirty. Sheppard, are you okay?” Rodney asked, because the colonel was never this disoriented.

 

Sheppard waved him off and turned back into his room, leaving the door open to indicate it was all right for McKay to follow him in. “I had a rough night. I think I ate some bad meatloaf in the chow hall.” He walked back toward his bed, weaving slightly, before collapsing on the mattress again and pulling the covers back up with a shiver.

 

“Colonel, I ate the same meatloaf you did and I’m fine.”

 

“Huh,” he mumbled in disinterest, closing his eyes and burrowing further into his pillow.

 

When he didn’t say anything else, Rodney called again. “Sheppard?”

 

“What?” he demanded testily.

 

“We have a mission.” Not that he expected the man to actually go off-world when he was sick, but it wasn’t like him not to at least tell someone he wasn’t going.

 

“Rodney, my head hurts, my stomach hurts, my whole goddamn body hurts. I’m not going looking for an energy reading in a fucking swamp when I feel like shit.”

 

Reaching out, Rodney rested the back of his hand against Sheppard’s neck. “Christ, Sheppard, you’re on fire.” He pulled his hand back and wiped it fastidiously on his pants.

 

Seeing the action, Sheppard snorted. “I would think the fear of cooties alone would have you running for the door by now.”

 

Rodney ignored the comment, instead insisting, “You need to go to the infirmary.”

 

“Seriously, McKay, find me a couple of Tylenol then go away. I just want to sleep and I’ll feel better in the morning.”

 

Rodney straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms, an act that was totally wasted on Sheppard since he rolled over and turned his back to the scientist. “Colonel, either you get up, get dressed, and walk to the infirmary with me, or I call a medical team to come to your room.”

 

“Rodney, I swear to God, if you don’t go away and leave me alone, I’ll kiss you until you’re as sick as I am. Don’t ask, don’t tell, be damned.”

 

“Yeah, I was wondering when you were planning on getting around to me,” Rodney responded dryly before he tapped his earpiece. “Dr. Keller, this is McKay. Please respond.”

 

“Go ahead, Dr. McKay,” the physician responded.

 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Sheppard grumbled, sitting up and glaring at his friend. “I’ll go to the damn infirmary.”

 

With a triumphant grin, Rodney spoke into his radio again. “I’m bringing Colonel Sheppard to see you. He’s apparently not feeling well this morning.”

 

“I’ll be standing by,” Keller told him, and Rodney watched as Sheppard dug around for a pair of sweats to pull on.

 

Once Sheppard was dressed enough to walk through the city without the risk of being arrested for public indecency, they headed out into the hall. Sheppard staggered as they walked, so that by the time Ronon joined up with them halfway to the infirmary, Rodney was actually gripping the colonel’s elbow to keep him from bashing into the walls.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” the Satedan demanded.

 

Sheppard was a light shade of green by that point, eyes glassy, and he answered needlessly, “Sick.”

 

His knees wobbled and Ronon took his other arm to keep him on his feet. “Just a little further, Sheppard,” McKay coaxed.

 

Swallowing thickly, he nodded in understanding, took a few more steps, then stopped with a breathless, “Rodney…” before his eyes rolled back and his knees gave out entirely.

 

And it ends up they had to call the medical team after all.

 

Sheppard spent the entire day in a state of growing disorientation and delirium, covered in sweat and shivering with chills. By the next morning, he had slipped into a coma. And it was almost three days after that before he opened his eyes again.

 

Ronon was the first to notice it. Calling a wary, “Sheppard?” that had Rodney and Teyla looking up anxiously from where they sat. Sheppard blinked up at the ceiling and the three of them gathered closer around his bed.

 

“John? Can you hear me?”

 

Hazel eyes flicked to each of them in response to Teyla’s question before his lips curved the slightest amount as they closed once more. The three stared at each other for a beat in stunned amazement before Rodney bolted for the door. “Keller!”

 

It took close to a week before Sheppard could stay alert long enough to actually carry on a conversation that consisted of more than single word answers to questions. And more than another week after that before he was deemed well enough to be released from the infirmary. The drugs had worked, or at least they had found a combination that would finally kill the protozoa that had infected Sheppard’s system through his wounded leg. Samples of the water collected from the planet showed that it was teaming with the eggs and larvae of the biting insects that had been buzzing through the air, so it was no wonder they had taken up residence in the colonel. But he was well on his way to being infestation free by the time he and McKay sat eating lunch together three weeks after the team’s one and only trip to the planet.

 

Rodney had decided to let some other team track down the mysterious energy signature. One near-death experience per planet was enough for him, thank you very much. For now, he’d be satisfied with lunch with his friend… his still incredibly weak, ghostly pale, and even thinner, but very much alive friend.

 

Sheppard raised his eyebrows when he took in Rodney’s tray. “No cake?”

 

“No cake,” he confirmed. It was a reasonable question seeing as McKay had been known to demote people for taking the last piece.

 

The surprise turned to suspicion. “Are you feeling all right? I know you didn’t take a dunk in the water like I did, but I did get some of the slimey stuff on you.”

 

“I’m fine. I just don’t feel like eating cake, okay?” When he stopped to think about why, Rodney really didn’t want to eat anything on his plate, but he had no desire to get into why with Sheppard, so he stuffed a bite of the pasta in his mouth and forced himself to chew.

 

“See, now you’re really starting to scare me. It’s like you’re some pod-person Rodney and I’m going to find the real Rodney’s half-digested remains in a storage closet somewhere.”

 

McKay screwed his face in disgust and pushed his plate away. “Oh, thank you so very much for that visual.”

 

Sheppard shrugged, unfazed by the physicist outrage, and took a bite of his own cake. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

 

“Look, if you must know, I had an… unpleasant experience with cake.”

 

The second bite of cake stopped midair and Sheppard asked in worry. “Here in the cafeteria?”

 

“No, in Scotland,” McKay admitted quietly before becoming more defensive. “So can we please just drop the whole cake discussion?”

 

Evidently Sheppard chose not to comply with his request. “And you’ll never eat cake again as a result? Not even for your birthday?”

 

Rodney snorted and shook his head. “You know, it’s funny. I’d actually forgotten about birthday cake. Lately, it’s just seemed to be associated with death… and near death.”

 

Taking that second bite of his dessert, Sheppard observed, “Who knew the grim reaper had such a sweet tooth?”

 

“Well, he doesn’t anymore.” 

 

Rodney hadn’t meant for the man sitting across from him to hear that comment, but he realized he had when he put down his fork and looked across the table, the dark circles under Sheppard’s eyes making his stare that much more intent.

 

“You know, McKay, you didn’t ask me to go out on that bridge.” When Rodney sat silently, he added, “And you didn’t ask Carson to perform that surgery. In fact, you did just the opposite.”

 

“But neither one of you would have been in the position to do either of those things if not for me.”

 

“How far back are you going to trace the chain of events that led up where we are now? When Elizabeth decreed a day off? When we first decided to go to the planet a few weeks ago? When we were assigned to the expedition? Hell, how about back ten thousand years when the Ancients went back to Earth and Carson and I ended up with the gene because our prehistoric grandparents got it on with the sexy, newly-arrived aliens?”

 

“That’s ridiculous, Colonel, and you know it.”

 

“It’s no more ridiculous than you blaming yourself for decisions we made. I mean, I know you’re egotistical, Rodney, but to think that you hold enough influence over anyone for them to decide to risk their life because of you? Give me a fucking break.”

 

Rodney sighed and confessed, “I shouldn’t have told you I was sure about that signal.”

 

“And I shouldn’t have gone out on that bridge. But I did.”

 

“And you nearly died.”

 

“And I nearly died,” Sheppard confirmed. “But if I had, it wouldn’t have been your fault. And you wouldn’t have owed me anything… except a nice eulogy. A really nice one. I expect lots of tears… and maybe some of the more attractive women to faint in despair.”

 

And that reminded McKay of something. “I don’t even know… is there somewhere we should send… you know, if something did happen… is there family or someone we should let know…”

 

Now it was Sheppard’s turn to drop his eyes and tell him uncomfortably, “There’s family, Rodney. It’s just not back on Earth.” He slid his cake to sit between them. “They were the first people I saw when I woke up.”  

 

Rodney let his eyes drift up from the partially eaten piece of cake to the man that was pushing it toward him with such an open expression on his face that he felt a little overwhelmed. To have Sheppard admit something like that, that he would include him in his definition of family… it had his throat constricting slightly as he tried to think of an appropriate response.

 

That was until all sincerity left the colonel’s face. “Oh, and you were there, too.”

 

With a roll of blue eyes, McKay shook his head with a small quirk of lips as he pushed the cake back. “Well, I’m touched to have been a part of it, no matter how insignificant my role.”

 

Sheppard gave him a sly grin and slid the plate back once again. “Take a bite and you can skip the piece at my funeral.”

 

He hesitated, considering his options of either associating the confection with death or letting it remind him to enjoy life while he could with the people that made it enjoyable in the first place. Taking up his fork, McKay ran it through the icing, rolling the caramel and coconut on his tongue, before cutting off a larger piece. And as he sat there splitting a piece of cake with his best friend, Rodney came to the conclusion that the acceptance stage tasted remarkably like German chocolate.

 

The End