An Ordinary Day - Pegasus Style (Part 2 of 2)
Untrusting of his legs, John finally resorted, begrudgingly so, to crawling back to the pilot’s seat, pulling himself along, using the edge of crates, seats, and anything he could grab onto. The two Tylenol he’d dry swallowed hadn’t lasted long as his rebellious stomach had expelled them almost immediately. The dry heaves that’d followed discouraged him from trying again, so he’d focused on his problem as best he could, looking for some way to solve it.
Where the hell is McKay when you need him?
Grabbing onto the armrest of the pilots chair, he dragged himself back into the seat. A chill ran through him, even though sweat still trickled down his face. His mind kept wandering, his ears rang and he felt like he’d been run over by a two-ton truck… repeatedly.
John swallowed hard against a dry throat and looked at the dark console. “What would… McKay do…?” he wondered out loud, slightly alarmed at the raspy weakness in his voice. He blinked hard, pushing back the darkness on the edge of his vision. “Diagnostic,” he muttered. Obligingly, the HUD came up, displaying several sets of data. He stared at the display feeling somewhat like a monkey staring at a math problem, until his gaze focused on one set of symbols and numbers that jarred a recent memory.
“It’s a code,” Rodney proclaimed as he waved at the display hanging at the back of Ops. “That’s the code that locked down Atlantis during the nanite outbreak.”
John shrugged, the significance somewhat lost on him. “Okay, so, knowing that code will let us override the lockdown the next time it happens, if it happens?”
Rodney’s shoulders sagged. “Well, no. Not really. It initiates the lockdown.”
“What turns it off?”
Rodney’s tone was exasperated. “I don’t know that part yet!”
John nodded to himself. The code was unmistakable, at least to him, but he’d always been good with numbers, and even in his muddled mental state, he knew he was right.
“What’s that doing… here?” At a sudden, sharp pain lancing through his gut, he doubled him over with a loud cry, and this time he couldn’t quite fight off the blackness that overwhelmed him. He teetered and fell from the chair, but he never felt himself hit the floor.
---------------------------
Elizabeth’s breaths were even and quiet. Ever since her conversation with Carson, she’d been rooted in place, her hands cramped from gripping the balcony railing. She knew that on the outside she’d exerted a calm demeanor, but inside her thoughts were reeling. John alone, most likely seriously ill and his life in danger, and all she could do was stand there and stare at the inactive gate. She felt helpless and that feeling grated on her.
“That’s it!”
Elizabeth spun at Grodin’s exclamation, her eyes widening at the triumphant smile on his face. “What?” She trotted over to his workstation.
“I found it.” Grodin quickly turned in his chair and pointed at the display behind him. “Beckett’s discovery and the recent quarantine got me thinking about Major Sheppard’s current condition and the quarantine last month, so I scanned the logs for any medical references.” he pointed at the code blinking in light green on the display. “I found that. It’s the code McKay identified as the trigger for the lockdown during the nanite outbreak.”
Bates walked up next to Elizabeth. “But these aren’t nanites.”
“No,” Peter answered as he typed on his laptop, “and that didn’t make sense to me either because if it was the current outbreak we have in the city causing problems, then Atlantis should’ve executed a lockdown similar to what we’ve experienced, but the city didn’t react… at least to what was happening here.”
“Why not?” Bates asked.
Grodin shrugged. “Well, if Teyla and the Athosians are immune, then it stands to reason that the Ancients were too, as well as the other humans in the galaxy. The city didn’t register it as a threat.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m not following you. Then how is any of this important?”
Grodin’s expression was understanding. “Because in the logs, I found a brief communication record between the jumper and the city when Major Sheppard dialed in. We’ve seen these logs before but haven’t had the opportunity to examine them more closely as they seemed to be a routine part of jumper protocol when returning to Atlantis. However, once deciphered, the log clearly shows that the jumper communicates several pieces of information to Atlantis, including the medical statistics of its occupants. I can only assume that was built in for the very reason we’re experiencing right now. It’s a safeguard to keep jumper passengers from bringing back any sort of disease or biological danger from off-world.” Grodin waved at the display behind him. “Based on this log entry, Major Sheppard was already getting sick when he dialed Atlantis and the jumper communicated that information to the city.” Grodin typed another command and a second log entry showed up on the screen. “I compared time stamps of the jumper’s logs against Atlantis’ logs and found an entry that coincided. When the jumper communicated Major Sheppard’s condition, Atlantis sent the quarantine code to the jumper, preventing it from returning to the city.” He looked up at Elizabeth. “The log entry isn’t detailed on what is ailing the jumper’s passengers, only that they are sick.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath and organized her thoughts, trying to wrap her head around everything. “So you’re saying that the jumper told the city that its occupant was sick, and the city ordered the jumper not to return? And that Major Sheppard, who most likely has a life threatening illness, is stranded in space in a non-responsive jumper?”
Grodin’s expression turned grave and he nodded. “Yes. Though it’s theoretically possible that he could return to the planet, if he tries. I believe the code only prevents him from returning to Atlantis, but I’m not positive. It’s highly likely that the Major is quite ill. I can’t imagine this protocol would initiate simply because the occupant has a runny nose.”
Elizabeth nodded, pushing down her concern. “Okay. What do we do from here?”
Grodin shrugged. “My best hypothesis is that, unlike when Atlantis initiated the citywide lockdown, in this case, all we need to do is acknowledge this log entry and Atlantis will allow us to establish a stable connection. That would allow informed and properly equipped personnel to help them.”
“That didn’t work with the city-wide lockdown,” Elizabeth countered.
“Because it was in the city,” Grodin answered. “And remember, anyone in hazmat suits were able to move about freely. In this case, medical personnel couldn’t help the jumper’s occupants unless they could get to them. I doubt the jumper could establish a wormhole to the city, until medical personnel reach Sheppard, but I’m almost positive that, once we acknowledge the code, we can establish an outgoing wormhole to the jumper.”
Elizabeth sighed deeply and nodded. “A good hypothesis is better than nothing. Do it.”
Grodin looked down at his laptop and typed a long command, before he turned, staring at the display expectantly. Abruptly, data streamed by flashing in various tones of green. Grodin smiled. “I think it worked.”
Elizabeth’s smile was tentative. “Dial the gate.” She turned, her eyes tracking the chevrons as they lit up before the wormhole formed. Rock still, she watched it, waiting as seconds turned into a minute and the wormhole remained connected, shimmering quietly. Her smile turned into a sigh of relief and she immediately tapped her headset. “Major Sheppard this is Weir. Please respond.” Her smile faded as nothing but silence greeted her hail. She tried again. “Major Sheppard, this is Atlantis. John? Can you hear me?” Her frown deepened in concern and she exchanged grim expressions with Bates. She switched her headset to an internal channel. “Carson, we have a stable wormhole to reach Sheppard, but he’s not responding to our hails.”
“This is Beckett,” Carson responded. “I’ll meet the team in the jumper bay.”
Elizabeth turned, her gaze zeroing on Bates. “Get Markham to pilot for you and meet Beckett in the jumper bay. You have a go.”
Bates nodded curtly. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned and headed for the back stairs, hailing Markham along the way.
“If Major Sheppard is seriously ill, which all indications say he probably is,” Grodin walked up next to Elizabeth, “then how are they going to get to him in space?”
Elizabeth fortified her determination. “First we make contact with John. If he can’t fly the ship, then we’ll figure something else out.” She looked at Grodin and voiced her silent thoughts. “One thing at a time, Peter.”
Grodin nodded in agreement.
---------------------------------------
John felt like he was floating, his mind wandering aimlessly in the soft, comforting darkness. In the back of his head, he knew there was something important, something he needed to do, but his scattered thoughts refused to coalesce.
“Major Sheppard, this is Jumper Two. Please respond.”
The hail sounded distant… insignificant. Bates. The quick thought flashed through John’s brain and he groaned quietly in response.
“Major Sheppard this is Sergeant Bates in Jumper Two. We’re approaching your location. Please respond.”
Bates… jumper… jumper! John’s eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply. Pain gripped him, stealing his breath as he wrapped his arms weakly around his midsection. He pulled in a harsh breath and immediately started shivering. Something wet, sticky and cold coated his cheek as he shakily lifted his head. “B…Bates?” he whispered.
“Jumper One, please respond!”
John managed to get one arm under himself, Bates’ insistent voice driving him. “Help…” he muttered. On his knees and clinging to the pilot’s seat, he reached for the communications console. “At… lantis….” His hand came down hard on the crystals, pressing several of them but he didn’t care. He’d managed to hit the one that counted. “B…Bates?” he croaked.
“Sir! We’re in Jumper Two, right next to you.”
John’s head fell heavily on the pilot’s chair, his cheek pressed had into the cushion and he clutched the seat tightly, trying to stay upright.
“Major, how are you doing?” Carson’s question acted like a tether, keeping John conscious.
John slowly lifted his head, just a little. “B… been… bet… ter….” he stuttered around chattering teeth. Sweat cooled on his skin, chilling him further, and he couldn’t stop shivering.
“Easy, Major, we’ll help ye.” Carson reassured.
“Major,” Bates interjected, “you’re still in space, sir. Are you able to pilot the jumper back to the planet?”
John’s eyes slid shut, and in the back of his mind, he had an errant thought that Bates was crazy. He couldn’t even stay upright on his knees without hanging onto the pilot’s chair, and now he had to not only fly but land on the planet?
“Major, I can EVA over to you…”
That got his attention. “No,” he put as much command into his weak voice as he could muster. Through sheer willpower, he forced himself to concentrate. An EVA in open space, with nothing besides a tether? Even if Bates managed to make the crossing, what would he do? He didn’t have the gene and couldn’t fly the ship, and John damn sure wasn’t going to let Carson try it. He shook his head. “No,” he repeated. “C… can… fly. Land.”
“Sir,” Bates’ voice was quiet, “are you sure?”
John drew in as deep a breath as he could manage. “Y… yes, Sergeant. No… EVA. That’s… ‘n order.”
“Yes, sir,” Bates responded, though his voice didn’t sound convinced.
John took another deep breath and pulled himself up, heavily flopping into the chair. His head fell back for a moment and he closed his eyes, fortifying his strength before he looked down and settled his hands on the console. Closing his eyes, he sent a command to the jumper to return to the planet and instantly, the little ship responded, firing the engines.
John tried to concentrate on the speed, the angle of descent and all other factors he had to consider for passing through the atmosphere and landing, but his mind kept wandering and he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight in spite of the information the HUD showed him. Even under normal circumstances, he’d be challenged to pilot the jumper in his current state, but with the complications of flying heavy, he felt his control over his descent slipping away, in spite of his best attempts to hold onto it.
“Major! You need to reduce your speed! Sir, you’re going too fast!” Markham’s voice sounded alarmed and John tried to concentrate on his words.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he latched onto his connection with the jumper. Help me, and he instantly felt the ship respond, taking a share of control. John still piloted, but the ship automatically compensated for air speed and angle, helping him, supporting him, but still obeying his commands.
Clouds rolled over the jumper windshield, parting to show the ground rapidly approaching. In a sudden burst of strength, powered by adrenaline, John’s sight sharpened and he pulled up on the controls, the jumper immediately reading his actions and decelerating. He hit the ground hard and lurched forward, his head bouncing off the control panel, and the darkness took him again.
-----------------------------------------------
Carson was already out of his seat before Markham had completed their landing. Jumper One was down, the landing not as graceful or controlled as they’d liked, but not suicidal either. Urgency drove Carson as he grabbed his medical bag, Bates unanswered hails to Sheppard echoing behind him. He slapped the release for the back hatch just as he felt the jumper settle to the ground and jumped out, before the hatch was completely lowered. Behind him Bates followed, pointing a remote at Jumper One. The back hatch obligingly opened.
“Major!” Carson shouted as he trotted towards the jumper. “Can you hear me?” He pulled a pair of latex gloves from the outer pocket of his duffle and thrust them at Bates. “Put those on,” he ordered. “This bugger isn’t airborne but it is transmitted by touch. I’ll not have ye getting infected.” He knew the gesture was probably futile. If Bates hadn’t been exposed yet, with the bacteria all over Atlantis by now, it was only a matter of time, but still, protocols won him over.
Wordlessly, Bates took the gloves and shoved his hands into them.
Carson grabbed a pair for himself and ran up the lowered back hatch. He winced at the pungent smell of sweat, vomit and sickness that assaulted his senses but tuned them out, focusing entirely on his patient, as he wove between crates and stacks of supplies. His gaze zeroed in on the pilot’s seat as he entered the back of the cockpit.
Sheppard weakly pushed himself up off the pilot’s console and turned in his chair before pitching forward.
“Major!” Carson dropped his bag, and lunged, catching Sheppard under the arms as he fell out of the chair. Bates immediately relieved Carson of one of Sheppard’s arms, and helped to gently lower Sheppard to the deck.
Carson probed Sheppard’s neck, quickly identifying the fast tattoo of the major’s pulse. Even through his gloves, he could feel the heat of fever radiating off of Sheppard’s body.
Sheppard moaned quietly, his eyelids fluttering.
Carson put his hand on Sheppard’s forehead for just a moment. “Major? John? Open your eyes, son.”
Sheppard’s eyelids parted, his clouded, hazel eyes unfocused. “Crsssssnnn,” his slur was barely above a whisper.
“Aye,” Carson answered gently as the thermometer he held in Sheppard’s ear beeped twice at him. “We’re going to take good care of you.” He looked at the number. “105. We’ve got to get his fever down.” His gaze moved from Bates to Markham who was rushing up the back hatch. “Gloves!” He pointed at the sergeant. “Don’t touch anything without gloves.” Carson grabbed his BP cuff. “Get a stretcher. I’m getting vitals and starting an IV. Then we need to get him back to Atlantis immediately.”
Bates jumped up, grabbed a pair of gloves from the medical bag, and handed them to Markham as they both ran back to Jumper Two for a stretcher.
Carson deflated the BP cuff. “80 over 50,” he muttered to himself. He shook his head and rummaged in his bag for a saline IV. “High pulse and respirations. Has to be early stages of septic shock.”
“C… cold…” A strong tremble rippled through Sheppard and he started shivering.
Carson finished with the IV, set the bag on the seat above him and grabbed a blanket from his kit. He shook it open and laid it over Sheppard. “Easy, son,” he answered quietly, not sure if Sheppard could hear him or not. “Easy.” He looked up as Markham and Bates rushed up the ramp, a collapsible stretcher, fully opened and ready to use, carried between them. They stopped at the back of the jumper.
“Too crowded in here,” Bates observed curtly. “We’ll have to carry him out and then put him on the stretcher.”
Carson sighed and nodded. “Give me a hand, sergeant.” He shifted around to Sheppard’s head and slid his arms under the Major’s armpits, before locking his wrists. He nodded at the IV bag as Bates positioned himself next to Sheppard’s feet. “Watch the IV. Just put the bag on his chest until we get out of here.”
Bates nodded and did as Carson asked, before grabbing Sheppard’s pant legs.
Carson staggered more than once as they shimmied, twisted and worked their way out of the crowded jumper and he breathed a sigh of relief as they settled Sheppard onto the stretcher.
“All right,” Carson nodded. “Let’s get him back to Atlantis on the double.” He held the IV bag high as Markham and Bates carried Sheppard to Jumper Two.
----------------------------------
Elizabeth trotted out of her office and across the bridge to Ops as the Stargate chevrons lit, indicating an incoming wormhole. She looked at Grodin expectantly as the wormhole shimmered behind the shield.
Grodin nodded. “Receiving Sergeant Bates IDC.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Lower the shield.” She activated her headset. “Carson, how’s Sheppard?”
“He’s in a bad spot,” Carson answered, his concern clearly evident in his voice. “I need you to radio the infirmary. Notify Doctor Biro that I’m inbound with a septic patient. I need a team ready as soon as we’re there.”
Elizabeth looked to one of the technicians who nodded in response and carried out Beckett’s request.
“Stand by,” Grodin interrupted. “The shield is unresponsive.”
“Jumper Two,” Elizabeth walked out on to the balcony, “did you hear that? Stand by, the shield is still in place.”
“Copy that,” Bates answered. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the code again,” Grodin answered. “Atlantis’ computer is waiting for acknowledgment of Jumper Two’s sick passenger before allowing them to return.” Grodin shook his head. “Amazing. All of the logs are correlated, so the city recognizes that Jumper Two gated to the same location as Jumper One, and is confirming that they’re allowed back. It’s why the city didn’t terminate the wormhole this time.” Something akin of wonderment blanketed Grodin’s expression. “The level and complexity of that kind of coding…”
“Peter,” Elizabeth captured his attention, “the shield.”
Grodin snapped himself from his musing and blushed slightly. “Right. Acknowledging code now.”
Elizabeth looked back at the gate as the shield deactivated. “Jumper Two, you’re clear to return. I’m on my way to the infirmary now.”
“Acknowledged,” Bates answered. “Jumper Two out.”
Elizabeth swiftly walked through Ops and headed for the backstairs. It didn’t take her long to reach the infirmary, and as soon as she entered, she had to step aside as a flurry of activity followed her. She caught a glimpse of a portable stretcher, carried by Beckett, Bates, Markham and an SO, before it was placed on a gurney and a mass of medical personnel blocked her sight. They moved to her right and took over one corner of the infirmary, Carson professionally but firmly issuing orders.
She looked to her left and spotted McKay and Ford, both in beds, with Teyla standing close by. Taking a deep breath, she walked in their direction, knowing she’d have to wait for any status update on John’s condition. She stopped next to Rodney’s bed and smiled. “How are you feeling?”
Rodney’s complexion was pale, but his eyes were sharp and showing their usual level of annoyance. “Like crap.”
Elizabeth nodded and looked to Ford. “Lieutenant?”
Ford was much more pleasant than Rodney, and smiled back. “Better, ma’am.” His gaze drifted away from her and across the infirmary. “The Major?”
Elizabeth turned her head, following his gaze. “I don’t know yet. He’s pretty sick.”
“He’s just being dramatic,” Rodney interjected.
Elizabeth narrowed her gaze and looked down, meeting Rodney’s unwavering stare.
“He’ll pull through,” Rodney added. “He always does.”
Elizabeth softened her expression and nodded. Rodney was never one to convey his feelings very well, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have them. She looked back across the infirmary, spying glimpses of John between bustling bodies. Even from a distance, she could see the pallor of his face, partially covered by an oxygen mask and he was so still….
“Elizabeth,” Teyla’s voice captured her attention. “I am sorry. I had no idea the Keenai were a danger to you.”
Elizabeth gave Teyla an understanding smile. “This isn’t your fault at all, Teyla. There’s no way you could’ve known.”
Teyla’s smile was thin. “I know. But still….” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.
Elizabeth held Teyla’s gaze for a long moment, pouring as much reassurance and understanding into her expression as she could muster. Spying an empty chair, she slowly sat down and stared at her folded hands as the minutes dragged by. Finally, Carson separated himself from the activity around John and walked towards them. Elizabeth stood in anticipation. “Carson?”
Carson sighed deeply. “He’s stable for now. We’ve begun an aggressive antibiotic regimen to combat the infection, but that’s not my only concern. Sepsis and a high fever are causing complications as well. The septic shock has caused his blood pressure to drop dangerously low. But we’re counteracting it with drugs. Hopefully, we can get the infection under control before he sustains any organ damage.” Carson’s small smile was grim. “It’s too early to tell anything right now.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I want to see him.”
Carson’s gaze narrowed. “You really shouldn’t. In fact, you shouldn’t even be here. It dramatically increases your risk of catching this bug, Elizabeth.”
She smiled slightly. “I think at this point, that’s inevitable, Carson. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Carson sagged slightly before he nodded. “Aye. But I don’t like it.”
Elizabeth looked down at Rodney and then over at Ford. “Take care, you two. Rest and get better.”
“Keep us in the loop,” Rodney insisted.
“Yeah,” Ford agreed. “Tell the Major we’re thinking of him.”
Elizabeth followed Carson across the infirmary, Teyla just behind her. As she approached John’s bed, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his still form. Three IV bags hung over his head next to a beeping monitor, and sweat gleamed on his brow. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, and his complexion was void of any color except the dark circles that underlined his closed eyes. Gently, she sat down on the edge of his bed, her gaze searching his face, looking for any signs of consciousness. “John?” she asked quietly.
His eyelids fluttered and his quiet groan was barely audible through the mask.
Elizabeth looked to her left as Teyla sat down on the other side of him. She returned her gaze to his face. “John? It’s Elizabeth. You’re back on Atlantis. You’re going to be okay.”
John’s eyes slowly opened, his gaze clouded with sickness. “Sumner… Wraith… no….”
Elizabeth looked up at Carson. “What’s he talking about?”
Carson looked up at the monitor behind John for a moment and he shook his head. “Altered mental state. It’s a symptom of septic shock.”
Without hesitation, Elizabeth reached down, wrapping her cool fingers around his warm ones. In the back of her mind, she knew she probably shouldn’t do it, but at this point, she didn’t care. She squeezed gently, encouraged when his grip weakly tightened on hers. “John? Can you hear me?”
“Lizbth…” he whispered, his gaze still unfocused.
“Yes,” she answered. She watched as Teyla gently swiped a lock of hair back off his brow.
“Be strong, Major,” Teyla’s voice was soothing., “We are all here.”
John’s eyelids fluttered again before falling shut as he lost consciousness.
--------------------------------------------
The first thing John was aware of was a warm darkness surrounding him like a blanket. It was comfortable, relaxing, and he relished it. A voice, distant but insistent, pulled at him but he resisted, determined to stay in the warmth.
“Come on, Major, open your eyes. I know you’re in there.”
As much as he wanted to deny the voice, he couldn’t dismiss it, and his mind instinctively latched onto it. The warm darkness faded, replaced by the feel of hotness in his bones and a roaring in his ears. He grimaced and moaned lightly.
“That’s it,” the voice encouraged. “Come on, son. I know you don’t want to, but you need to wake up.”
The darkness faded away, replaced by blinding light as he peeled his eyelids open. The brightness sent a shock of scintillating pain through his forehead and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut against it.
“Welcome back, Major. Ye gave us quite a scare.”
He heard a shuffle next to his bed and the light that still assaulted him through his eyelids dimmed considerably.
“That should be better. Open your eyes again,” the voice ordered.
John opened his eyes, just a little, his blurry gaze focusing on an intense set of blue eyes and a dimpled smile. “Carson,” he whispered.
Carson’s smile deepened. “Aye. Good to have you with us again.”
“Wha…” he rasped and coughed weakly against a throat that felt like it’d been rubbed with sandpaper… repeatedly.
“Here.”
John felt something press gently against his lips and he parted them, relishing the ice chips Carson gave him. He tried to smile just a little as they melted on his tongue, the water soothing his parched throat. “Thanks,” he managed.
“You’re welcome,” Carson answered. “How do you feel?”
John thought for a moment. His head pounded, his body was sore from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a Wraith. “Like shit,” he answered, smiling just a little at Carson’s chuckle.
“Aye, I bet. If you can believe it, your condition’s actually improved dramatically. You’re a tough bugger, Major.”
John closed his eyes, but his smile lingered. “Stubborn,” he answered and Carson chuckled again.
“Aye, that too. Get some sleep. We’ll talk again the next time you wake up.”
John tried to answer, but the floating blackness overwhelmed him again and he succumbed to it.
---------------------------------------------
This time, consciousness came faster.
John pulled in a deep breath and opened his eyes, immediately noticing how much stronger he felt. He managed a lazy quirk of one brow. Strong was a relative term, since he still felt like a newborn kitten could easily kick his ass right now. He opened his eyes, noticing that the beeping on the monitor over his head, sped up slightly. He rolled his head to the right, watching as another doctor… Biro, he recalled, walked over to him.
“Major.” Biro grabbed his wrist, taking his pulse. “How are you feeling?”
“Stronger,” John answered, noticing that his voice was clearer as well. He watched Biro for a moment. “Beckett?”
Biro smiled as she looked at her watch before setting his arm down and motioning her head towards the other side of John.
John turned his head, his eyes widening at the sight of Carson sleeping in a bed next to him, an IV quietly and slowly dripping just above his head. John looked back at Biro. “He’s okay?”
Biro nodded. “Diagnosed it early and started treatment. He’ll be fine in a couple days. He knew it was inevitable that he’d catch it, given his level of exposure to so many victims. She held a reassuring smile. “Doctor Weir’s down with it as well.”
Concerned, John weakly lifted his head off the pillow. “Elizabeth?”
Biro put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s okay. Same as Carson. She’ll be fine in a few days.”
John blinked hard, pulling his thoughts together. “Who’s in command?”
“That would be Ford,” Rodney stepped around the privacy curtain and stared down at John with a typical annoyed expression. “And Bates. God help us.” Through narrowed eyes, he scrutinized John for a moment. “You look better, only half dead instead of ninety percent.”
“Nice to see you too, Rodney.” John’s gaze passed over Rodney’s robed form and slippered feet. “Why are you still here?”
Rodney turned his annoyed expression on Biro. “Because this voodoo doctor won’t let me leave yet.”
“You were severely dehydrated, Doctor McKay,” Biro answered. “That slowed your recovery.”
John quirked a brow at Rodney’s dark expression. “Maybe you should replace a couple of those nineteen cups of coffee a day with some water, McKay.”
Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. “Good coffee makes good coding and good science. I can’t help it that I’m indispensable in every department. I need that coffee to keep the morons around here from blowing themselves up, or, more importantly, blowing me up.”
John dismissed Rodney’s ranting, one thought pressing on his mind. “The Daenarians. We need to check in with them.”
“What?” Rodney’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Because I was getting sick when I visited them. I could’ve infected them with this bug. We gotta make sure they’re okay.”
“They’re Pegasus natives,” Rodney countered.
“Who’ve been isolated from the rest of the galaxy for generations, maybe even thousands of years,” John answered.
“Good point,” Rodney muttered. “I’ll pass it on to Ford and Bates.”
John nodded. “Thanks. The Keenai?”
“All happily back on the mainland munching on Popu fruit,” Rodney frowned. “Thankfully.”
“Good,” John yawned, all of a sudden feeling drained.
“That’s it. No more work.” Biro dimmed the light over John’s head. “Back to your bed, Doctor McKay,” she ordered. “I’m releasing you tomorrow.” Her voice softened. “Major, get some sleep.”
John nodded lazily and let his head settle deeper into his pillow.
--------------------------------------------------
Epilogue - 1 week later
A small smile slowly creased John’s mouth as he walked across the bridge from Ops to Elizabeth’s office. She sat quietly behind her desk, her brow furrowed as she scanned her data pad. He stopped in the doorway and leaned on the doorframe, cocking his head slightly. Her complexion was a little pale, but her gaze was sharp. He cleared his throat quietly.
Elizabeth looked up and returned his smile. “John. Come in.”
John pushed off from the frame, walked in, and settled in a chair across from her.
She kept her smile as her gaze passed over him. “They finally let you out? You do look a lot better.”
John quirked his brows. “So do you.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’m on light duty for another week, but it feels good to get out of the infirmary.” He laced his fingers in his lap. “Where are we with this infection?”
Elizabeth looked back down at her data pad. “I was just reviewing that.” She sighed. “Most of the expedition has caught the infection and is either through it or going through it right now. Infirmary’s still pretty busy. It’s the consensus of the medical staff, Carson included, that those of us who have gone through the sickness have at least some immunity to it now, much like the Pegasus natives.” She scrolled down through the data. “So far, most of the infected have come through the process with little or no complications.”
John furrowed his brows. “Most?”
Elizabeth looked up at him, her expression solemn. “We’ve had two fatalities. Doctors Morrill and Kenson from Zoology.”
John leaned forward. “Do we know why?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I asked the same question. Medical’s not sure, but according to Doctor Biro, it isn’t uncommon in situations like this. Unfortunately, you can’t expect one hundred percent recovery even in the best of circumstances.”
“Small consolation for Morrill and Kenson’s families,” John answered as he again settled back in his chair. “If we are ever in contact with Earth again,” he added.
“I know.” She inhaled deeply and returned her attention to her data pad. “Zoology believes the bacteria is a deterrent to predators, sort of like a repellant. They’ve theorized that while the predators of the galaxy have most likely developed immunity as well, they can smell it or taste it and it’s… unsavory. Somehow, it discourages them from preying on the Keenai.”
“No wonder the Keenai are so docile,” John commented and shook his head slightly. “They don’t have much to fear from predators.”
Elizabeth set the data pad down. “Medical finally found the bacteria in the Ancient database. It’s pretty common all over Pegasus. We were bound to run into it sooner or later.”
John nodded. “Nothing like it in Milky Way?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No.” She sighed again. “I’d never really thought of the biological implications of our visiting other worlds in this galaxy. What if do the same thing to Pegasus natives? Cause a plague with something that’s virtually harmless to us?”
John shrugged. “The Athosians have lived with and around us for over six months, Elizabeth. I’d take that as a good sign that we’re not the bearers of the next Pegasus Black Plague.”
She smiled slightly, her expression far from totally convinced. “I know.” She took a deep breath. “Speaking of which, Ford sent a team to Daneria shortly after you mentioned their exposure.” Her smile grew more relaxed. “They’re fine. Apparently, they developed immunity somewhere along the way.”
John’s smile matched hers. “Good to know.” He scrutinized her distant, but intense expression. “Elizabeth,” he leaned forward, pretty sure of what was on her mind. “We can’t hole up in Atlantis afraid of catching a disease, or causing one. Hell,” he waved a hand, “this one came from our own home world.”
Her smile was thin. “I know.” She shook her head, “I just can’t imagine….”
“Then don’t.” John interrupted. He held her gaze. “It’s dangerous to go through the gate. We all know the risks.” He sat back in his chair and sighed. “That said, we can take precautions. Check in with worlds we visit routinely. Make sure they’re okay. And require medical examinations for all returning off-world teams, or any visitors.” He took a deep breath and stood. “In the meantime, I’m back to playing light switch for McKay.” He let out a heavy sigh.
Elizabeth’s brooding expression lightened considerably. “Try not to shoot him, John,” she teased.
John quirked his brows. “No promises. He’s roped me in for a whole week.” A playful smile quirked his lips. “Not sure I can last that long.” He grinned, glad to see her laugh in return.
“Get out of here. I have work to do.” She waved at the door.
Burying his hands in his pockets, John sauntered out of her office. He took a deep breath as he crossed Ops and headed down the Gate Room stairs. He was still a little sore, and got tired easily, but he could feel the strength returning to his body. In the back of his mind, he wondered what other unknowns they might face out there in the galaxy, but he knew it wouldn’t stop them from exploring. They were here to unlock the secrets of Atlantis and find a way to defeat the Wraith.
His smile faded. The Wraith, more than anything, trumped the risks of going through the gate to other worlds. They still didn’t know when the Wraith would attack, but he was positive that it was inevitable. And when they did, Atlantis… he had to be ready. Even on light duty, he could still work towards that goal.
With a renewed sense of purpose, he left the Gate Room behind him.
----------------------------
Request: slice of life fic in Atlantis, day to day stuff with a side order of off world whump to intervene. Set early in season 1 before contact with Earth/SGC. Getting by with diminishing rations/supplies.
Back to Part 1