“Bloody hell,” Carson muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He checked his screen again, shaking his head. Well didn’t that just beat all. Soulmates. He and Mac had been searching the database for days without much luck until he had run across the information currently on his screen. It didn’t mention much, made no explanation of the why or how of it all, but there was enough there to confirm that the markers they had discovered were those of a soul bond.
“Right.” Carson saved the data on a thumbdrive, closed out of the log, then copied some of the DNA results after stripping the identifiers from them to preserve his patients’ privacy. Tapping his earpiece, he sighed. “Elizabeth, have you got a moment? I have something I need to discuss with you.”
“Of course, Carson. My office? Or do you want me to come there?”
“Your office, I think. I’m on my way.” Closing his com, Carson headed out of the infirmary. When he passed Mac, he pulled him aside and spoke in low tones. “I need you to take over for a while, I have a meeting with Weir.” Pausing, he pondered what – if anything – to tell the young man. Mac, I think we should put the research on hold for now. There’s no rush, after all, and I don’t want the other projects to fall behind, alright?”
Mac looked puzzled, but nodded in agreement. “You’re the boss.”
Patting his arm, Carson tried to smile. “There’s a good lad.” He felt a little sick to his stomach, keeping what he’d learned from his friend and colleague, but he needed to figure this out first.
Of course, that feeling wasn’t helped by the knowledge that Miko was his soulmate. It made him question everything. As he made his way to Elizabeth’s office, Carson couldn’t stop cataloging his feelings for Miko. Was he truly infatuated with her because of who she was – a beautiful, smart, kind-hearted woman – or because they were soulbound?
Carson knocked on the door. “Elizabeth?”
Smiling warmly up at him, Elizabeth put her pad down and gestured for him to take a seat. “Carson! What was it you wanted to talk about? Is everything alright?”
With some reluctance, Carson thought the door closed, then locked. He didn’t want any interruptions for this because he wasn’t certain he would be able to get it all out otherwise. Handing her the thumb drive, Carson cleared his throat and sat down. “Have a look for yourself,” he said quietly. He watched her carefully as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
“What exactly am I looking at?” she asked, glancing up at him.
“A potential problem, I think. Mac and I have been trying to figure out why the gene therapy didn’t take on everyone. While doing so, we stumbled across an anomaly in the DNA of those with the ATA gene – both the natural and the therapy induced ones. What you’re looking at are the markers we found.” Leaning forward, he pointed them out for her. “The thing that caught our attention was the fact they seemed to mostly come in pairs, and that no two pairs were alike.”
Frowning, Elizabeth sat back in her chair, steepling her fingers as she watched Carson carefully. “Okay. So what have you found out?”
Taking a deep breath, Carson laid his cards on the table. “After some digging in the database, I discovered that those markers indicate a soulbond. The pairs in question are soulmates.”
Eyes wide, Elizabeth gaped at him. “And what does that mean, exactly?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest. All I know for sure is that I have one, and that I’ve been attracted to her for as long as I’ve known her. I’ve also noticed some patterns among the members of the expedition.”
“What kind of patterns?” she asked, but from the speculative way she was eyeing him, Carson thought she had a good idea already.
“There have been friendships that have formed in fast order. Attachments are becoming apparent in several cases. To my knowledge, no one has flaunted regulations yet, but if the soulbonds have the effect I think they do, then that can’t last much longer.”
Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. “Right.”
Wringing his hands, Carson gazed at them a moment before meeting her eyes again. “The thing that bothers me is, do we tell them? Do we have the right to tell anyone they have a soulmate. Or for that matter, do we have the right to withhold that information?” His stomach churned at that, knowing he already had withheld it from at least a few people. “Is it cruel to do either? I just don’t know.”
Humming under her breath, Elizabeth nodded. “I see your point. Quite the dilemma.” Tapping her fingers on her desk, she frowned as her eyes drifted toward the control room. After a minute or two, she sighed and turned her attention back to Carson. “I don’t think there are any easy answers here, Carson. For now, let’s keep this to ourselves while we figure it out. We’ll both try to think on how best to handle the situation and then we can discuss it further. Fair enough?”
Carson smiled grimly and nodded. It would have to do.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Get this off of me,” John ground out, panting with the effort of trying to move with Ford and McKay as they carried him between them toward the jumper. “Soon as we get inside.”
Clenching his jaw, John refused to acknowledge the look the lieutenant shared with Rodney. They had tried to remove the giant tick that had latched onto his neck already. John shuddered at the memory of it. He had never hurt as badly as he had after Ford had tried shooting it off.
“Go, go, go!” Ford yelled at Teyla who stood waiting by the hatch. “Tell Markham to take off the second we’re inside!” Teyla nodded grimly and disappeared from view to relay the order.
Rodney grunted with the effort of hauling John over the ramp while Ford covered their six and closed the rear hatch. As soon as it was up, they lowered John to the floor, back resting against the hatch. He was exhausted, hurting everywhere, could barely move, and he was decidedly not. Happy.
Ford went up to the front to talk to Markham, urging him to fly faster. The jumper jolted and John groaned, “Taking fire! Taking fire. Get some altitude.”
Oh God, why? Why did this have to happen? Just his stupid luck to run into the stupid bug’s… web… and have it latch onto him. John’s gut twisted as he recalled the Wraith walking calmly up to him, watching him while John struggled to remain semi-upright. He had thought for sure he was dead, that the Wraith would seize the opportunity and feed on him then and there, but after a minute it had simply walked away. That’s when John knew he was in serious trouble – as if the excruciating pain lancing through his body hadn’t been clue enough.
“Okay,” Ford called back. “I think we’re close enough to dial the gate.”
Rodney huffed in annoyance as he paced back and forth before kneeling by John’s side. “Yes, yes! Hurry up and get us back!”
Fuck, he hurt, and he couldn’t move properly. He couldn’t get remotely comfortable either, giant tick around his neck notwithstanding. He kept trying to sit up, to grab at the thing to pull it off. To do something – anything – to help, but nothing did. His throat felt thick when he saw the worry written on the astrophysicist’s face. John wished he could hold the man, reassure him. Since he couldn’t, he took a shallow breath and repeated his earlier demand. “Get this damn thing off of me.”
“We can’t,” Teyla said firmly, looking as worried as Rodney.
Gaze fixed on Rodney, John tried again. “Cut it off!”
Rodney, however, put his hand on John’s shoulder and ignored his plea as he called to Stackhouse, “As soon as we’ve established a connection, radio ahead and tell them we have a medical emergency!”
John could just tell out of the corners of his eyes that both Teyla and Rodney had firm grips on his shoulders, but he couldn’t feel them. It took him a second to realize that he couldn’t really feel anything anymore from the neck down, aside from the lingering pain that emanated from where the damned bug was latched on.
He heard Teyla take a wavering breath as she looked to Rodney with something close to panic in her eyes. And that scared John more than he would ever admit. He might not have known Teyla for very long, but he was pretty certain that there was little that truly frightened or even phased the woman, yet John’s predicament had her flustered beyond anything he had seen yet. Not even when she had been taken captive by the Wraith had she been this rattled. “There must be something we can do for him?” she asked Rodney.
John could see the gears going full speed behind Rodney’s eyes as he thought over their options. “There’s an emergency first aid kit behind the pilot’s seat. Get it.”
How that was going to help, John had no idea, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes locked on the man next to him. Rodney met his gaze, and John could see how much the stoic resolve cost his friend. “Major, everything we do to try to remove it makes the pain worse, now try to stay still,” Rodney admonished. John didn’t have the heart to tell him that not moving wasn’t going to be much of an issue pretty soon, so he just nodded.
“Is there no way to go faster?” Teyla asked, stepping up between Markham and Stackhouse.
Without bothering to turn around Stackhouse said tersely, “He’s just trying to get us back in one piece.”
John had the fleeting thought that Stackhouse seemed oddly protective of Markham. The tick tightened its hold on John’s throat and John tried again to shift. It was getting harder and harder to move. Rodney dug frantically through the medical kit, discarding item after item as he grumbled, “What am I expecting to find in here that’s gonna get rid of that thing?”
“Something for the pain,” Teyla replied with strained patience.
Sitting up, Rodney held up a bottle of pills and huffed. “I doubt Tylenol is going to do it,” he said, tossing it aside. “He needs a doctor! How much longer?” he yelled at the three up front.
John wanted to tell Rodney to calm down, to tell him everything would be okay, but it was taking everything he had just then to not cry out. That damned thing just seemed to be burrowing its claws in deeper with every breath he took. He was vaguely aware of Ford telling Atlantis they were inbound and to be ready for a medical emergency, and of him telling Elizabeth in brief terms what had happened. All he could think about, though, was for them to hurry up already.
Suddenly there was a scraping sound and the jumper lurched hard enough to bounce John’s head against the ramp, knocking him unconscious.
How long John was out, he had no idea. Keeping his eyes closed, he did a quick assessment of his situation. The bug was still attached, apparently not going anywhere, but at least it wasn’t trying to throttle John anymore so there was that. He tried to wiggle his toes. Nothing. Same with his fingers. Well, crap. That was not a good sign. On the bright side – and by ‘bright side’ he meant ‘definitely a bad thing’ – the pain was gone. He was still in the same position as before he blacked out, which meant they hadn’t gone through the gate yet.
Carefully opening his eyes, he spotted Teyla about a foot from him, rifling through the medical kit again. What had happened? Did someone get hurt? Well, besides him, of course. “Hi, Teyla.”
Teyla’s head whipped up, relief stark on her face as she rushed to his side. With effort, John turned his head to face her. “Are you alright?” he muttered.
She blinked, apparently surprised at his concern for her. “I’m fine,” she assured him.
Grunting, John tried – and failed – to shift. “Something tells me we haven’t made it to Atlantis yet,” he said, hoping to deflect the question he saw in her eyes.
“No,” she murmured, seemingly deflating.
Taking a breath, John started to ask why when his eye caught the shimmering blue of the event horizon and he froze for several heartbeats. Ford and Rodney were standing in front of it as if they had been arguing. At the moment, though, Rodney was staring at him with such heartbreak in his eyes that it tore at John. “Ford?”
The lieutenant came to his side, but John’s focus remained on the event horizon and on Rodney, who looked hurt that it wasn’t him John had called on. Despite the fact John could see for himself, he couldn’t help asking Ford, “What is that?” Though he meant it more in a ‘what the hell happened and why are we here’-way.
“We’re stuck, sir,” Ford muttered.
“We’re what?” John couldn’t quite figure out how that was possible.
“In the gate,” Ford added curtly.
Taking a deep breath, John tried to remain calm. “You mean my day just got worse?” The looks of guilt and pity that flitted across his teammates’ faces struck John hard. Especially the despair in Rodney’s. It made John feel awful. Worse than he already was feeling, because he hated that he was putting his friends through this.
He had always hated to be the cause of grief for those he cared about but this was ten times worse for the simple reason that over the past several weeks – or was it months? – Rodney had come to mean so much more to him than just a friend. Part of him was kicking himself for never having acted on his feelings, and now it would be too late. John was going to die and Rodney would be left behind, never knowing how much he had meant to John.
Then again, it was probably for the best that Rodney was unaware. It would be totally unfair for him to have it taken away. They had been spending a lot of time together lately and had talked about basically every subject under the horizon. John knew how few true friends Rodney had always had, though it had gotten a little better since coming to Atlantis. He also knew the kind of luck the other man had had with relationships of any kind and for a wonder, it was worse than John’s own – ex-wife notwithstanding.
Rodney seemed to grasp for something to hold onto, mentally. An anchor that would keep him from going adrift as he seemed to be in danger of doing. So John wasn’t at all surprised when Rodney began explaining what he believed had happened with the drive pods, ending with, “There’s no way of knowing really, but… if you know some way of manually retracting the mechanism?” He sounded almost hopeful in spite of himself. It was nearly enough to make John smile. Nearly.
John took a moment to really consider, but he already knew the answer. He sighed, eyes fixed on where the cockpit was supposed to be. “Yeah. Cockpit on the left,” he said, his heart sinking to somewhere around his navel.
Rodney’s jaw flexed, jerking a thumb to the event horizon. “The cockpit is regrettably de-molecularized at the moment, but uh, what about somewhere back here?”
John shook his head. “No.”
“No. Didn’t think so. I’ll just be over here taking some readings. Feel free to talk among yourselves.” Rodney sounded terse, closed off, as he grabbed a pad and turned his back on them. John didn’t care for it one bit. He could tell how much it frightened the other man to see John hurt and Rodney not have the answers, but there was nothing John could do so he remained quiet.
Teyla stayed by his side, offering what comfort she could, though John knew she was feeling helpless and that she was growing more worried by the moment. Not so much for her own predicament but for his. Ford went to sit opposite Rodney, as if trying to will the other man to succeed. John for his part, lay watching Rodney as he poked at his pad. Not just because he wanted him to find a solution, either. No, John couldn’t not take his fill of this man while he still had the chance.
Suddenly, Rodney got to his feet and reached past Ford, closing the bulkhead doors and pitching them in darkness. “Ah, sorry,” he mumbled, flicking on his flashlight. John managed a small smile, already getting why he had done it even before Rodney explained it to the others.
Ford apparently wasn’t grasping it quite as quickly, and Rodney’s panic and fear which had been bubbling just below the surface came to the forefront. He got into an argument with Ford. “McKay,” John said quietly, trying to get his attention. “McKay! Knock it off.”
Rodney turned on him, angry and hurt and frightened. “Oh, excuse me if I’m the only one that comprehends just how screwed we are!”
Shooting him a level look, John ground out, “Don’t talk to me about screwed!”
That brought Rodney up short. He looked crestfallen as what he said and John’s reality sunk in on him. “Right. Right. Sorry,” he mumbled, unable to look at John.
John’s heart went out to the man. Taking a calming breath, John added with as much confidence as he could muster, “And let’s not give up on Markham and Stackhouse either. There’s plenty of time to solve this thing, but you’ve got to stop using your mouth and start using your brain.”
Rodney swallowed hard a few times before apparently finding his voice again. “I’m sorry. I react to certain doom a certain way, and-.” Pausing, he took a steadying breath and began to look around the compartment. “Maybe there’s a way to manually retract the pods.”
John doubted it, but he would sooner die than say so. “Maybe there is.” He had to try to keep his team’s hopes up. It was the least he could do. Hell, it might be the only thing he could do just then. He wasn’t sure he would make it much longer, but if there was even the slightest chance that his team would make it through, then it was John’s responsibility to try as hard as he could to get them there.
Teyla placed her folded jacket behind John’s head, cushioning it. “You seem stronger.”
“No, it’s…” He hesitated, then decided to tell them the truth. It was one thing to keep their hopes up, it was another to lie to them altogether. “It’s that the pain’s not so bad now.”
“Well, that’s good isn’t it?” came Ford’s response.
“No, it isn’t, Lieutenant. My hands and feet are numb, I can barely move them. I’ve lost all feeling in my extremities, and the feeling is creeping up.” Closing his eyes briefly so he wouldn’t have to see the sickening fear in Rodney’s eyes as he stared at John, he continued, “What I’m trying to say, Lieutenant, is that if you don’t get this damned thing off me, I have even less time than you do.”
Chancing a glance at Rodney, John’s throat tightened with regret. Maybe he shouldn’t have been as blunt. Maybe he should have spared them the knowledge after all. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
While Rodney set to work with a look of grim determination, John had Ford contact Atlantis. He spoke to Carson about the bug, wanting to know if there was anything they could do that they hadn’t already tried in order to remove the thing. Teyla chimed in at one point, sharing her belief that the bug was related in some way to the Wraith and that it shared their ability to heal itself.
In the end, Carson had gotten a kit similar to the one they had in the jumper as well as what they had in their personal inventory from their tac vests, and he and Ford worked their way through. As Ford attempted again and again to find something that would affect the bug, John was starting to lose hope. His thoughts were starting to feel sluggish and he could feel his time running out.
Ford poured water on the creature and it reacted with the salt he had sprinkled on it on the previous attempt. Suddenly the pain that had gone came rushing back with a vengeance and John cried out, his body going rigid. He couldn’t speak, and for a moment he couldn’t move. Next thing he knew, it felt as if the creature had taken control over his motor functions and he practically threw Lieutenant Ford across the jumper, startling Rodney into shorting something, which in turn caused the jumper to move forward just enough for the event horizon to breach the bulkhead doors.
John lay panting, his body once more immovable as the pain ebbed away. “Please don’t do that again,” he croaked, grimacing.
Elizabeth’s voice came over the coms, “How’s Major Sheppard?”
“I’m still here.”
“Hang in there, Major. We’re working on the problem.”
“I know you are.” And he did, he just wasn’t confident it would do him any good. Especially not after what had just happened. John felt absolutely wretched, everything hurt, and he had almost no energy left. Glancing to Rodney, he felt his resolve crumble. If this was his only chance to tell Rodney he was in love with him, then he had to take it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, part of an old Tennyson poem came to him: ‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. Maybe there was some truth to that.
“Listen, er… I’d like to say something while I still can.”
“Don’t!” Elizabeth cut him off. “You’re gonna get through this.”
John chuckled hoarsely. He had meant to just talk to Rodney, forgetting he was still on the coms. Showed how out of it he was getting, really. “If I was,” he managed, “then the Wraith wouldn’t have let me go.” He was so tired. He could barely keep his eyes open anymore. “I guess he just saw me as good as dead,” he admitted, his speech beginning to slur every couple of words, “because he just walked away. So,” he cleared his throat, trying to focus on Rodney, “what I wanted to say, was-,”
Again, Elizabeth cut him off, telling him to save it for later. He really needed to not be on the com right now, he thought fuzzily. How was he to tell Rodney how he felt if people kept interrupting him? And why was Elizabeth assuming it was her he was trying to say something to? Oh. Right. She was who was on the com, which was still on. John opened his mouth to clarify his intent when Ford cut in, “We should send him through the event horizon.”
Was everyone intent on not letting him speak? He glowered at his lieutenant, but he didn’t seem to notice. John was vaguely aware of Carson vetoing the idea of sending him through the gate with the bug still attached when a thought occurred to him. “Hit me with the defibrillator.”
Ford gave him an incredulous look. “But the doc said that would kill you.”
Glancing up at Ford, John nodded. “That’s the idea.”
The look of consternation on the lieutenant’s face was almost worth it, John thought. He was starting to feel the blackness creeping up around the edges of his mind even as Carson explained what John meant. Finally, Teyla and Ford were ready to hit him with the defibrillator. Ford hesitated for a moment, and while John gazed on Rodney, he summoned all the strength he had left and turning to Ford, ordered, “Do it!” putting as much bite into it as he could muster.
Pain lanced through him as the electricity jolted him and then he knew no more.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
An annoying beeping sound woke John up much sooner than he would have liked. He gasped when the realization he had survived hit him. A hand grasped his tightly, followed by a whispered, “John?”
He opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the brightness and the light immediately dimmed. Ah, one of the perks of being on Atlantis, he mused, a smile playing on his lips. He turned his head to Rodney who was still holding his hand as he hovered over him. “Hey, Rodney,” John croaked, throat parched.
Jaw set stubbornly, Rodney glared down at him. “Don’t you ever put me through that again, John Sheppard,” he ground out.
John blinked in surprise at the vehemence in Rodney’s voice. “Good to see you, too, Rodney,” he said, not quite sure how to react.
Rodney harrumphed, then appeared to relax a little. His eyes softened as he gazed at John, making him feel warm and cared for. John squeezed Rodney’s hand, murmuring, “We made it.” Way to state the obvious, but what else could he say?
Giving him a crooked smile, Rodney nodded. “Yes, we did, no thanks to you.”
Putting on a hurt face, John pouted. “Not my fault that tick-,” he started, only to have Rodney cut him off with a quiet, “I almost lost you.”
John’s heart tripped at the pain in his friend’s voice. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Before John knew what was happening, Rodney leaned down and brushed his lips over John’s forehead. “Rodney,” he rasped as he reached up to pull the man’s head down for a kiss, oblivious to their surroundings.
It was soft, sweet, and over far too quickly. Rodney pulled away with a goofy smile on his lips, one that John was fairly sure was mirrored on his own. “Regulations,” Rodney reminded him regretfully.
Casting a quick look around the thankfully empty infirmary, John locked eyes with Rodney. “Hang them. We’ll be careful.”
“You sure?” Rodney asked, a touch of insecurity lacing his voice.
Threading their fingers together, John nodded. “Positive.”
Leave a Reply