Status: Completed 4/10/2009

Word Count: 2,144

"You wanna tell me why you've spent the last three days looking like someone just shot your dog?" John asked as he stumbled along beside McKay.

"I don't know what you mean," McKay replied defensively.

"You've been . . ." John tripped over a branch and nearly fell. "Oh, shit," he gasped as a jolt of pain spiked through his side and head. "Sorry."

McKay appeared unconcerned at John's distress, offering him a small nod as they continued on.

"You've been awfully quiet for the last two days or so, Rodney."

McKay threw him a look John couldn't quite decipher. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

John could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile on McKay's face after his remark. "No. No, not really. Just . . . not like you is . . . is all." John was quiet for a few minutes as he struggled to catch his breath and support as much of his own weight as he could. "Usually have to damn near gag you to shut you up for more than thirty seconds. 'Specially when you . . . come across some . . . scientific . . . stuff."

They walked in silence, apart from John's labored breathing, for several more minutes before John asked, "So, what's eatin' ya?" As he waited for McKay's reply, John concentrated on trying to breathe and walk in a straight line at the same time. The pounding in his head seemed to increase exponentially with each step he took and it was getting harder to concentrate, harder to keep putting one foot in front of the other. As difficult as it was to breathe, he had the sinking feeling he'd done some serious damage to his lungs. Whether he'd broken a rib or two, which had subsequently punctured a lung, or the infection in his side had spread, he couldn't say. Maybe it was a combination of both. All he knew was that breathing was extremely difficult and painful.

"Come on, McKay . . . spill," John commanded after several minutes of silence.

Rodney sighed then replied, "I should have known something was wrong. I should have seen this coming. We never should have come here. I knew it was to good to be true that there'd be anything useful there for us to find."

Sheppard had suspected it was something like that. McKay was feeling guilty, blaming himself. While McKay had been the one to push the hardest for this little trip, and had insisted that their team be the one to check it out, Sheppard didn't blame him for anything that had happened since they'd entered the facility.

"Not your fault," he began. "From the infor . . . information we had, it was . . . worth checking out. Nothing you . . . could . . . could have done about . . . them attacking me. Couldn't have . . . stopped it."

"I could have got the lights up faster so we could have seen what was in those tanks, that some were broken, and we could have gotten out of there faster."

Sheppard waved his hand to stall any further protests from Rodney. "Not . . . discussing this any fur . . . further, McKay. You . . . did nothing . . . wrong." He wanted to say more, but an intense pain shot through his abdomen. Gun still clutched tightly, he put the back of his hand to his mouth as he started coughing, which only served to intensify the pain. Doubling over, he tried desperately to will away the pain. As the coughing spell eased, he lowered his hand and cursed. There was a smear of bright red blood on the back of his hand.

"We should stop," McKay said. Then, obviously seeing the blood on John's hand, he muttered a curse.

"No," John insisted, "we keep going. 'Gate's got to be . . . be pretty close . . .now."

There was more to it than just the guilt. Something else was eating at McKay. John knew he would have to discuss the issue with him further once they got home, -would have to practically pound it into his head that it wasn't his fault, but for the time being talking took up way to much energy, made it even more difficult to breathe and just plain hurt too much.

Blinking against the sweat dripping into his eyes and concentrating all of his energy on keeping his knees from buckling, John didn't see the worried look McKay threw Teyla.

Sheppard had been quiet for the last fifteen minutes. Any questions Rodney had asked had been answered with one word replies or grunts. Rodney glanced at the major again and his concern deepened. Sheppard's skin was even paler and the sheen of sweat seemed thicker. His breathing was obviously labored, each breath seemingly more difficult than the last. How much longer can he last? Rodney wondered.

As if to answer the unasked question, Sheppard suddenly doubled over, gasping in pain and obviously struggling to catch his breath.

"Ford! Stop," Rodney called out.

Without looking to see if Ford heard him, Rodney watched helplessly as Sheppard began to retch again. Dry heaves wracked his body. Rubbing Sheppard's back awkwardly, he tried to offer some measure of comfort to the injured and sick man. He prayed it would stop soon. Not just to ease Sheppard's pain, but because he couldn't stand to watch the scene that was playing out before him. Finally, after several minutes that seemed to last forever, the retching eased then stopped, and Sheppard sagged, his back leaning against Rodney.

Rodney looked down as he brushed Sheppard's unruly hair from his eyes. The major's eyes were closed tightly against the pain, his hands still clutching his injured side. His breathing was more labored and he seemed to stop breathing every few seconds for a beat or two. Blood seeped through the major's fingers and Rodney worried what further damage may have been done while they'd walked and when Sheppard had fallen. The dry heaves couldn't be helping any either. Teyla had changed his bandages earlier, before they'd broken camp that morning, but they were obviously completely soaked through again.

A hand on his shoulder made Rodney look up to see Teyla standing next to him, the concern in her eyes mirroring his own.

"He's getting worse," Rodney stated simply. There was no need to elaborate; he could see the understanding in Teyla's eyes. She, better than any of them, knew just how badly off the stubborn major was. It was she, after all, who'd been tending to his wounds from the beginning.

Teyla nodded and helped Rodney gently lay Sheppard on the ground. Rodney shrugged out of his pack and used it to prop the major's head up. Sheppard's eyes opened at that moment and the pain Rodney saw there was unimaginable. How the man was still conscious was beyond him.

Rodney considered moving away as Teyla removed Sheppard's vest then pulled his shirt up over the wound then over his shoulders. She tossed the ruined shirt to the side. Then she began to remove the blood and puss soaked bandages. Rodney blanched and looked away, he really didn't want to see what he knew was an ugly wound. What he really wanted to do was to get up and walk away. Much to his surprise, though, he found he couldn't do it. It felt like he'd be abandoning the man if he did. He knew Sheppard would not move away if their situations were reversed. Instead, he asked, "How can I help?"

Teyla looked at Rodney in surprise then gave him a small, grateful smile. "Hold him. Pulling the bandages away will be painful, as will applying the antiseptic."

Swallowing audibly, Rodney nodded.

Teyla moved quickly, gathering what she needed from their dwindling supplies. Getting everything she could from her pack -she'd already used everything useful from Rodney's- she stood and approached Ford. Rodney watched as the lieutenant stopped his patrol long enough to allow Teyla to remove his medical kit from his pack. She said something Rodney couldn't hear then appeared to rummage through some of the pockets on Ford's vest and pants as well.

Kneeling beside them again, Teyla laid out what she had gathered on the ground. Rodney saw several field dressings and realized that was what she'd been taking from Ford's pockets.

"We are nearly out of gauze and bandages from the medical kits. There should be enough to redress the abdominal wounds, but I will need to use the field dressings to bind his shoulder wounds." Taking a deep breath, she seemed to be preparing herself for what was to come next then spoke again. "I will need you to hold him tightly as I clean the wounds then re-dress them. Once done with the wounds to his side, I will remove the bandages from his shoulder and do the same."

Rodney nodded and inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly. He adjusted his grip on Sheppard slightly before replying, "I'm ready." He knew this would not be pleasant for any of them, but it had to be done. He slid the major slowly, carefully back onto his lap, cradling his head in one arm and wrapping the other arm around his chest. Looking up, Rodney saw Ford walking a tight perimeter around them, occasionally throwing a concerned glance their way. Their eyes locked briefly and McKay hoped he was conveying more confidence and courage than he felt.

Sheppard's eyes flew open and he arched his back against Rodney's grip as Teyla poured the antiseptic into the major's wounds. The ear piercing scream that ripped from the man's throat made Rodney flinch involuntarily. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Sheppard was experiencing. He considered putting his hand over Sheppard's mouth to muffle the scream. If those creatures were close, and Rodney prayed they weren't, the man's anguished cries would be sure to attract their attention. As he considered that option, Sheppard stopped screaming. Glazed eyes met his and he was sure Sheppard was lucid enough to realize his screams could attract the creatures. He seemed to be struggling to hold them back. As Teyla pressed a clean piece of gauze onto one of the cuts, Sheppard's jaw clenched tightly, his eyes slammed shut, and he bit back another scream.

Wincing in sympathy, Rodney tightened his grip on Sheppard's chest as the wounded man bucked against him again. For what seemed to be the millionth time in the past few days, he wished he'd never found the information on the outpost, that they'd never set foot on this god-forsaken planet. He knew it wasn't really his fault Sheppard had been injured so badly, after all this is what they did and they all knew the risks, but he couldn't help feeling guilty despite Sheppard's earlier instance that it was beyond his control. Sheppard's eyes slid shut again and Rodney wondered if he'd passed out from the pain.

A few minutes later, Teyla finished wrapping Sheppard's abdomen and had moved onto removing the bandages from his shoulder. It too had started bleeding again at some point, but seemed to have stopped again. As far as Rodney could see, it wasn't infected. For that small miracle, Rodney was grateful. Sheppard grunted, his eyes remaining tightly closed, as Teyla poured the antiseptic into the wounds. Using the field dressings she'd taken from Ford, she then dressed the wounds quickly.

By the time Teyla finished, Sheppard seemed to be unconscious, his chest rising and falling with each short, ragged breath. Rodney sat quietly as he watched the major sleep. After several minutes he was reasonably certain moving wouldn't wake Sheppard so he gently eased him to the ground, again using his pack as a pillow.

As he stood, Rodney noticed that Teyla had finished cleaning up the mess and was pulling a pre-filled syringe from one of the med-kits. "Morphine?" he asked.

Teyla nodded. "He seems to be unconscious for now, but he is still in great pain. I do not think it would be wise to move him any further until a travois can be built. He should not attempt to walk anymore."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed and watched in silence as Teyla administered the morphine. She then took out her bandana, wet it with water from her canteen then used it to wipe the sweat from Sheppard's brow. That done she took a strip thermometer from the med-kit and applied it to his forehead. After a minute, she removed it and shook her head.

"Well?" Rodney demanded.

Frowning, Teyla replied, "It is as I feared. His temperature has risen nearly a full degree. If we do not get him back to Atlantis soon. . . ."

Rodney didn't need her to complete the sentence to catch her drift. If they didn't get Sheppard back to Atlantis real soon, he'd die.

"I guess we'd better get a move on then."

Rodney jumped at the sound of Ford's voice behind him. What was it with military people and sneaking up on other people?

TBC

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