FIC: The Pack (Stargate: Atlantis AU) 8/10

[ashinae]

The Pack: A Stargate: Atlantis AU - Chapter 8
by ashinae and jay_linden
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10



There and gone again.

John didn't like saying goodbye to his own people. No matter what, Carson was his own people.

***

John sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and leaned down to untie his boots.

Or, well, at least he tried. He groaned, put a hand over his midsection, then just flopped over onto his back. "Dammit," he muttered.

"You know... there's this thing that you can do. It's called Asking For Help. I hear that when you do it? Sometimes? People actually help you. Particularly when you've been stabbed through the stomach. Want me to get you a book on tape?"

"That was yesterday," John groused. "And I got my boots on, I should be able to get them off." He didn't try to move. Or ask for help.

"Off is more difficult, and boots were a stupid choice," Rodney pointed out.

John sighed. "Hey, Rodney? Do you think you could help me get out of my clothes? I'm having trouble."

"Yes. I would be glad to assist you in getting naked."

John let Rodney help him out of his clothes. He settled down in their bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. "I miss our man-witch." Those kind of declarations weren't exactly in-character for John. He wanted Rodney to talk.

Which was probably why Rodney gave him a strange look. "Our old one who died, or the one who looks just like him, but isn't him, except that he is?" he asked.

"All of the above."

Rodney sighed. "I miss my friend," he said, flopping down on the bed next to John, looking up at the ceiling. "Can I say something without you laughing at me?"

John shifted so that his arm was pressed alongside Rodney's. "I won't laugh."

"Sometimes... I feel really, really old."

John knew that feeling really, really well. "I understand."

"Yeah, but you actually are old," Rodney said, with his usual bluntness. "I'm your cradle-robbed boyfriend."

"True. You're practically a baby," John said dryly.

"I am," Rodney said, sniffing arrogantly. "I'm a young, beautiful genius. You're lucky my sister hasn't come after you with a shotgun."

John laughed softly. "Believe me, I count my blessings about that every single day I haven't been shot full of holes."

"She could still find one. She's very violent for a pacifist married to a white witch, have you noticed that?"

John looked at Rodney with a furrowed brow. "Uh... no, I haven't. I think she's very sweet."

Rodney snorted. Loudly. "She hits."

"Sure." John looked up at the ceiling again. "Rodney--are you okay?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"No. But I think I will be. Just... give me some time to get there."

"Okay," John said, softly. He pushed his arm under Rodney's shoulders and, with a pained-sounding little grunt, pulled Rodney in nice and close. "Let me take care of you a little bit."

"You do know that you're the big bad wolf who has a hole in his gut, right?" Rodney said, even as he settled into John's arms. "I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

"Probably. But since when did I ever do what was really expected of me?"

Rodney snorted. "That would be never."

***

If the bad guys didn't stop kidnapping members of his team, John would be forced to break something.

Actually, he did break something. He never liked that chair, anyway.

When they got Ronon back, he spent a lot of time at his side. It wasn't long before Ronon was lucid enough to discover that the pain wasn't quite so bad if he changed into a wolf. He spent rather a lot of time that way for a while.

And, according to Rodney who had joined him in bed very late one night after working, he spotted Ronon-the-wolf getting quite a lot of scritches from Dr Keller when Rodney had made a detour into the infirmary for some ailment or other that John was certain he wasn't at all suffering from, considering what they ended up getting up to once Rodney stopped gossiping. Or rather, once John pounced on Rodney to get him to stop gossiping.

***

John could smell Keller on Ronon.

He approved.

He didn't say anything; he and Ronon didn't really get all touchy-feely with each other. When Ronon was ready, when he and Keller knew exactly where they were now that they'd found each other properly--and honestly, it took them long enough--then it would be time for Ronon to approach John and let him know formally. Until then, John watched. Listened. Enjoyed their happiness.

Enjoyed Lorne and Teyla's happiness. Embraced the newest and littlest member of the pack, even when Torren threw up on him.

And there was Rodney.

One of these days, John would make an honest man out of McKay. He'd get up the nerve. He'd ask.

***

"I guess that answers the question as to whether that was really Elizabeth."

John stayed where he was for some time after the others had walked away from the gate. He stood there, seeming to wait for something. No one approached the still, quiet Alpha.

Eventually he turned and walked away. Had a long shower. Tried not to think too hard.

How many times could he be expected to lose someone he loved?

***

Ronon was still with a nurse. John held the cotton ball to his own arm and approached Rodney's bedside, where Jennifer was still checking him over. Teyla stood at the other side of the bed. John smiled--he couldn't help it. Rodney was sitting up, looking happy as could be. It was as if he hadn't spent nine hours unconscious in the back of a Puddle Jumper.

"Well, how's my boy?" John asked. He rested his hand on Rodney's leg.

Jennifer actually beat Rodney to a response. "Nothing's coming up on the scans--as far as I can tell, there's nothing wrong with him."

"Good," John said. Of course, it was pretty easy to tell just from looking at Rodney that the fever was gone, and hypothermia was a distant worry. "You had me worried, Rodney. I thought we agreed that we don't like it when I'm worried."

"No, we don't," Rodney said. "You start sniffing me more when you're worried, and it's disconcerting, and looks strange in public. Can I go?" he asked, already starting to move the blanket aside that was covering his lap.

"Not so fast," Jennifer said. "Let's be sure before you go running off."

Ronon, who had stealthily appeared out of nowhere, stepped in past Jennifer to urge Rodney back into bed with a stern sort of look on his face. When he stepped back, he stood behind Jennifer, a little closer than was perhaps professionally necessary.

Rodney huffed out a loud sigh. "She just said I was fine!"

"I said as far as I can tell," Jennifer corrected. "I'm not done checking yet."

John patted Rodney's leg. "Let's make sure you're better," he said. "I'll be back in a little while, okay? The three of us will debrief with Woolsey. Oh, did I mention--he wants to send out a MALP before every transit now."

Rodney snorted loudly, settling back in his bed. "I give it... a week. No, two," he said. "Woolsey's stubborn."

John laughed. "Yeah, we'll see whose patience runs out first. I'll be back, Rodney."

***

"Hey." John reached out and put his hand on the back of Rodney's neck, fingers lightly teasing through his hair. "If you're this hungry, you must be fine," he teased, looking down at the tray on Rodney's lap.

Rodney made a face at John, but grinned immediately after. "Want some?" he asked, offering his tray.

John blinked. "I'm... what?"

"Want some?" Rodney repeated, focusing on the tray of food, not seeing John's expression. "There's lots, we can get more, and you never eat enough. Nobody likes a skinny wolf, John. They're crabby."

John bristled. "I'm not skinny," he protested. Rodney had never once, in all this time, offered to share food with John. He had, in fact, often eyeballed John's food once he was done with his own until John gave him something.

"And let's keep it that way," Rodney said. He picked up the fruit cup off his tray and held it out, showing it to John like it was a puppy treat or something, a wicked look in his eyes. "Mmm... peaches. Don't you want the peaches? And look--cherries!"

John did love the fruit cups with the cherries in them. But still, Rodney never, ever, shared. He squinted suspiciously at him. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Nothing," Rodney said, shaking the fruit cup again, and smiling at John. "Eat the fruit cup."

Oh that smile. That crooked, delightful smile John liked so much. He perched on the edge of Rodney's bed and took the fruit cup and a spoon. "I can't resist peaches for very long," he said, smiling at Rodney.

"I know," Rodney said, grinning at him. "I'm beginning to know all your secrets, Colonel Poodle-face."

***

"What did you just call me?" John asked, looking at Rodney in surprise.

"What?" Rodney asked, not looking up from what he was doing. "Oh, please, it's not like I never call you by your title, John. You think it's hot."

"Well--well, yes, I do--but you called me 'major'."

Rodney frowned, and turned back away from his computer. "I did? No... I said 'colonel'."

"No, you called me 'major'. Trust me."

"Huh." Rodney frowned more, then shrugged and went back to his computer. "Must have been reminiscing. Pass me that tablet, would you, please?" he asked, gesturing to one that was just out of reach.

John handed it over. "So how much longer?" he asked, then leaned against Rodney's desk. He made sure he could stand very, very close. Rodney smelled so good right now.

Rodney made a very contented sound. "Well before the moon hits, I promise," he said. "Actually... five minutes? Just let me finish this thought, and I'm all yours."

John slipped his arm around Rodney's back and leaned in to sniff his neck. "Promise."

He laughed and tilted his head back. "I promise--five minutes. Five minutes, and you can sniff me all you want."

John laughed, too. "So I suppose I should stop hanging all over you and let you work..."

"Yes. Five minutes," Rodney repeated. "That's all."

And the part that startled John? Five minutes later, Rodney saved his work and shut down his workstation. But despite the surprise, John beamed at Rodney. "C'mon. Full moon tonight. Want you first."

"You know what you are?" Rodney said, taking a couple of steps closer to John, a big grin on his face.

John stepped closer, too, a truly predatory grin on his face. "I bet I can guess." The word 'bossy' sprang to mind immediately.

"Sexy," Rodney supplied. "Very. I love you, John." He pressed closer and gave John a kiss. "Take me home."

John felt a little flutter in his belly. He couldn't really stop it. Normally the 'I love yous' came after sex--especially really good sex, but really, when wasn't it?--or when Rodney was tired, or scared, or there'd been a lot of yelling.

This was an entirely too-pleasant surprise. John took Rodney's hand. "Let's go, then."

***

Most full moons, John ran with his pack. But before he'd had to change, the sex had been incredible--definitely 'top five'. He hadn't wanted to leave Rodney's side. So he was curled up, fast asleep, tail over his nose, on the foot of their bed when Rodney had fallen asleep, too.

John was having a very nice dream--he was chasing things through a gorgeous forest--when he heard screaming. He woke instantly and was up on his feet, hackles raised, growling. It sounded very much as though someone was hurting Rodney.

About two-point-five seconds after that, Rodney pulled the trigger of John's sidearm, the gun aimed squarely at the wolf, despite Rodney's shaking hands.

He missed.

John didn't understand. Rodney was his mate. He leapt off the bed and to the floor, looking for the danger. There must be danger, for Rodney to be so frightened. He sniffed the air, but all he could smell was Rodney. Whatever was going on? He looked at Rodney again.

"Stay back--I'm telling you--stay back!" Rodney yelled, firing again.

John leapt away. He felt pain; smelled his own blood. Rodney had shot him! Rodney was afraid--desperately afraid--of him. He ducked around the other side of the bed and held himself low to the ground.

"Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay." It was Amelia Barnes' voice, from the control room. "Weapons fire has been detected in your quarters and a security team has been dispatched."

"Hurry--I need help, and Sheppard's missing!" Rodney yelled, hands shaking so hard it was a wonder he didn't drop the gun or eject the lip.

"Missing?" Barnes echoed.

"He's not here!" Rodney yelled. "Where's the security team--don't move!" He gestured angrily at John.

"They should be--"

The door opened. They had either been very close by, or had superhero speed. Either way, a small contingent of security personnel burst into the room.

"Dr McKay?" Johnstone. Her name was Johnstone. "What's going on?"

Another voice. Watanabe. "Medical team to Colonel Sheppard's quarters, the Colonel has been injured." He hurried past to crouch down beside John, who proceeded to growl and back away. His world was wrong right now.

"What are you doing--don't get so close, it'll attack you!" Rodney said, still holding the gun. "Where's John?" he demanded.

Johnstone lowered her weapon. She looked deeply concerned. "Dr McKay," she said, slowly, as she stepped closer to him, "Colonel Sheppard's here. What--who--attacked you?"

"He's not here--there's just that!" Rodney said, gesturing at the wolf with the gun, shaking all over with fear. "I woke up and it was inches away--it was going to kill me!"

The security team looked around at each other. "Doctor, that is Colonel Sheppard."

Even through his fear, Rodney was able to look at the crew as though they were complete idiots. "I think I would know if Major Sheppard was a wolf," he snapped. Then he paused. "Major. No. Not Major," he murmured, wrapping his free arm around himself. "Colonel. Lieutenant Colonel. I did it again. I..." He sank down onto the floor, unaware of the tears on his cheeks. He looked up after a moment or two. "What's wrong with me?"

***

By the time John could turn back into a human, his wound had healed. It was only a graze--it really didn't take long or require much attention. As soon as someone had given him some scrubs to put on, he made his way to Rodney's side. "Hey," he said, gently, taking Rodney's hand. "How are you feeling?"

Rodney didn't look up at him. "Well... I shot you. So there's that."

"Ah, you probably owed me for that time I bit you."

Rodney didn't smile.

John leaned down and kissed his forehead. It didn't matter who else was there--in fact, he could smell Ronon, Lorne, Teyla, Jennifer, and Woolsey nearby--he wasn't about to leave Rodney. "Hey. I'm fine. You're the one I'm worried about."

"I don't know what's going on," Rodney said. "I don't forget things. How am I forgetting things?"

"I'm sure Dr Keller will let us know," John said.

She had an answer. It just wasn't one that any of them were going to like. "John, maybe you should sit," she suggested, very softly.

John. She never used his name. He perched on the edge of Rodney's bed and absolutely, most definitely, did not let go.

***

It turned out that even while under a dread diagnosis, Rodney could still sleep, and sleep hard. At least for a little while at a time.

He woke up alone. That wasn't right. He wasn't alone. He had someone. He had... "John," he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment. That was right. It was right, wasn't it? He remembered. He remembered John--remembered that they were together, that he loved him.

But he wasn't there. And what started out as confusion shifted into panic as Rodney looked around the room, eyes adjusting to the dark, realising that John wasn't there. "John?" He pushed the blankets away, got out of bed, stumbled over the floor. It was real. It had to be real--it couldn't not be real. "JOHN!" he yelled, staggering to the door and hitting the controls, blinking back from the light of the hallway. "JOHN!"

John rounded the corner at what could only be described as 'top speed' and even made the shift back into human mid-stride. "Rodney!" he exclaimed, "Rodney, I'm right here! What's wrong?"

"JOHN!" Rodney screamed his name one more time and sank down to his knees, tears on his cheeks as he settled onto the ground. He clutched at him, held on hard enough it would hurt his fingers. "You were gone. You weren't there, no one was there, and I thought... I didn't know if it was real," he whispered, voice hoarse, choked with emotion.

"I'm sorry," John whispered, crouched down on the floor with Rodney, his arms around him. "I thought you'd fallen asleep."

He held on tighter. "Tell me it's real," he begged. "Please, just... tell me it was all real. That we were real," he whispered.

"We were real. We are real," John corrected. "I love you and I'm here for you."

Rodney laughed, but it was shaky. "I am so much better at this when you're the one who's in trouble." Because he never, ever believed that John wouldn't survive. And right now, he wasn't so sure about himself.

John kissed Rodney's forehead. "You know, you've mentioned that to me before."

"I'll take your word for it." The joke fell a little flat, as far as Rodney was concerned. "I don't... really want to go back to sleep," he admitted.

"You need to rest," John said. "Keep up your strength. Get better for me."

"John..." Rodney cleared his throat and looked away. "I don't... I'm not sure that's going to happen." No one was looking him in the eyes. They were being positive, and Jennifer was so convinced of her ability to fight this particular battle... but no one was looking him in the eyes when they said it.

"Don't say that," John said. "Don't you dare say that. You're going to get better. We're going to beat this thing--we beat everything, don't we?"

"I don't..." Rodney smiled, and he reached out and touched John's cheek. "Do you know that sometimes, I actually love fighting with you?" he said softly. "Sometimes I piss you off on purpose." He was sure that he remembered that. He was sure; sure that was true.

That got a soft laugh out of John. "That doesn't surprise me. Now, I'm crouched here naked in the hall. It's a nice night out, though. I've got an idea, but first I need at least a pair of pants."

It meant not having to go to sleep. It meant more time with John. "I'll be here," Rodney said."

"No, you'll come back inside with me," John said. "I'm not gonna let you out of my sight again, I promise."

***

John took them outside to the pier and sat down, pressed up against Rodney's side. They'd been quiet for a very long time. He stared out at the moonlight water of their home. Home. How long had it been since John had called anywhere 'home'?

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Rodney," he said. "I'm not gonna lose you."

"I love it here," Rodney murmured, leaning against John's side.

"Me too. Scary monsters and all." John put one arm around Rodney's back; the other hand reached across his own body for one of Rodney's and he held on tight. This was where they both belonged. John was wrong--Atlantis was the place where he lived, but Rodney was his home.

"John... before I can't say it, before there isn't time--"

"No," said John.

"John, we don't have a lot of time, and we don't know how much longer I'm going to be me, so we should really--"

"No, Rodney. I'm not saying goodbye." John held him tighter and pressed his face against Rodney's neck.

"You are being very impractical--you know that, right?" Rodney said, sighing loudly and holding on just as tightly.

"You're not going anywhere, Rodney. I won't allow it."

Rodney sighed again, but it made him smile. "How about I love you? Am I allowed to say that?"

John's fingers moved their way slowly up and down Rodney's spine. "Yes, you are absolutely allowed to say that. Because I love you, too." His voice was rough. He ached, deep inside. In a week or two, less, Rodney wouldn't remember this.

He pulled back, just enough that he could see John's face. Rodney's hand came up, and he reached out, fingers sliding over his cheek, touching his lips. "Good. I love you, John Sheppard," he said, very quietly. "So, so much. Remember that."

John would. For both of them.

***

"Rodney," John said gently, "Rodney. Do you want to wear this green shirt today?"

Rodney looked away from John, murmuring something indistinct, over and over.

Okay. John took a breath, closed the dresser drawer, and approached Rodney. He crouched down in front of him. "Hey, Rodney. We gotta get you out of your pajamas. It's time for breakfast."

Fifteen days since they started documenting Rodney's deterioration. Only fifteen. It felt like centuries.

"Breakfast," Rodney repeated, looking down at John and smiling. "Hi, John."

"Hi, Rodney." John smiled back up at him and stroked his cheek. "That's right. We're going to go have breakfast. But we've gotta get you dressed first. Do you remember what we have planned for after breakfast?"

He frowned, clearly trying to remember. "I..." He looked from side to side, searched for the answer, bit at his lip. "Doctor?" he whispered.

John nodded. "That's right. We're gonna see Dr Keller." He got to his feet and leaned down to press a tender kiss to Rodney's forehead. "But dressed first, okay?"

They had a bit of a fight over Rodney's pants for today. He'd missed arguing with Rodney. He hadn't realised how much he missed that until Rodney absolutely refused to wear anything but a pair of striped pajama pants. John helped him into his housecoat. Mission one: accomplished.

Mission two: mess hall.

"Hey, buddy," Ronon said, standing up when they entered. "I saved you a seat. Why don't you sit with me while John gets your breakfast?"

Rodney stared up at him, up, up, tilting his head back to see him. "Ronon... Dex. Ronon Dex, Ronon Dex, Ronon Dex," he kept repeating, getting softer with each repetition.

John saw the flash of pain in Ronon's eyes, but didn't comment. He took a step back as Ronon urged Rodney down into a chair. He didn't know exactly when it happened, but Ronon liked Rodney. He accepted Rodney now. Maybe it was after Rodney had agreed to be there for the metamorphosis. Or maybe something else had happened between them, unspoken or not, outside of John's knowledge.

Watching Ronon with Rodney now--John had never imagined Ronon capable of being so gentle, and he knew that had been unfair of him. Ronon was good with Rodney.

Mission two: accomplished. Mission three: leave Rodney alone with Ronon long enough to get breakfast for two without Rodney having a meltdown at John's absence. As long as John stayed within Rodney's eyeline, or where Ronon could quickly locate him and point him out as soon as Rodney missed him--quickly meaning within about two seconds--he stayed relatively calm.

When John returned to the table, Ronon had completely captured Rodney's attention. He'd turned to him, engaged him, completely attentive, smiling and nodding.

John set down a tray loaded with two plates. He sat on Rodney's other side. "Having fun with Ronon?" he asked.

Mission three: accomplished. Mission four: actually get Rodney to eat. As of two days ago, his appetite was iffy, and John worried they'd get to a point where Rodney couldn't focus long enough to have a meal--or, worse, that he'd start refusing food altogether.

"Ronon Dex," Rodney said, looking proud. He didn't pay much attention to the plate of food John'd put in front of him, turning his head and looking off to the side, fingers constantly fidgeting.

John did manage to get some food into Rodney's belly with rather a lot of coaxing. His own meal was left virtually untouched--a single bite of toast, a little bit of fruit. No protein, which was stupid, but John's food was abandoned when it became clear Rodney would eat no more, and they were running very close to their scheduled time for Rodney's check up.

Mission four: somewhat successful. Mission five: infirmary.

When Rodney was still in a position to make decisions, they'd asked if he wanted to keep doing the recordings, even once he forgot that it had been his idea. He'd said yes--vehemently yes. And so every day, he was brought in to the infirmary. Every day, he still tried to answer the questions... to find the answers to things that had once been as automatic to him as breathing. To watch him struggle to even name the city they lived in made John's hear break just that little bit more. John excused himself to Jennifer, slipped out into the corridor, and leaned his head back against a wall.

He smelled Teyla and Torren, but didn't open his eyes. "Morning," he mumbled.

"Good morning," Teyla said, shifting Torren to her other hip. "Ronon said that you and Rodney joined him for breakfast. I'm sorry we couldn't get there in time."

"It's okay," he said. He finally looked at her. "Lorne told me that Torren's been fighting the very idea of sleep at reasonable times and in reasonable ways."

"The word 'reasonable' is definitely not one that is currently in Torren's vocabulary, along with 'sleep'," Teyla agreed. "I thought I would bring Torren to see him, if that was all right with you." Rodney hadn't recognised or remembered Torren in days, but something about seeing the baby still made him smile. Or it had yesterday.

John blinked rapidly a few times, then forced a smile. "Yeah. Yeah, that's all right with me."

"We won't stay long," she promised, touching his arm. "I know how he tires easily."

He nodded. As he pushed himself away from the wall he said, "Teyla, I don't think I can take care of him on my own any more." He couldn't. And they all knew it--they'd known it for a couple of days now. But it was the first time that John had said it out loud.

Teyla was opening her mouth to say something when they heard Rodney calling John's name, followed almost immediately by the (now familiar) sound of Rodney's panicked voice, as he realised John wasn't there anymore.

And John raced to be back at Rodney's side. He found Rodney on his feet and reached for him, hands on his upper arms. "Right here, Rodney. I didn't go anywhere. I'm right here, see?" He lifted one hand to touch Rodney's face. "I'm right here."

Rodney stared right at John, the panic still in his eyes. "John! Where are you, John?" he yelled.

A lump swelled in John's throat. "I'm right here," he said, hoarsely. "Rodney, I'm right here. It's me. It's John. Your John."

Rodney stared right at John, his expression completely blank. And then he smiled, reaching out clumsily and touching John's face. "John," he repeated. "John... Sheppard. John."

Rodney McKay was gone, and John hadn't been there when it happened.

John stood very still for a moment, staring into Rodney's eyes. He wasn't there anymore. The man standing right in front of him was not his mate.

***

John sat back and listened. The Shrine of Talus exists. No, it doesn't. Yes, it does. There's no such thing as magic shrines. Did I say it was magic? No, but you did say that people afflicted with McKay's condition suddenly revert to their former selves...

(Jennifer and Ronon had been fighting. They were angry with one another.)

John sat back and listened. Smelled the tension in the air. The grief.

Lorne hovered in the doorway. Either keeping others out of Woolsey's office, or shadowing John. If pressed, John would admit that he understood both options. "Cranky" was a vast understatement for his mood lately.

As Ronon and Teyla turned to leave, having announced they would take Rodney themselves, John finally spoke up. "We know for a fact that there are two Hive ships and ten thousand Wraith on the ground. If we're even gonna consider this, all right, we have to make a plan."

"Fine," Ronon snapped. "Make a plan."

The air was full of anger. Frustration. Grief. Loss. John could smell it; he could feel it. It was hard to tell at this point how much of it was his own and how much his pack; his family.

"Wait--stop," Jennifer said. She was exhausted. It showed. "You have to stop. This is crazy. I'm sorry, but it is. If you're right--if you're right--then the best possible result from what you've described is one day, and then that's it--permanently. We haven't exhausted all possible medical hope. If we'd known quickly enough, when the parasite was still smaller, when he first started exhibiting symptoms, we could have done something about it--all I have to do is find some way to shrink it, and we could actually save his life, rather than give him a good death. I can't let you do this."

Something inside of John snapped. Some fragile thread holding on to his sanity.

"We could have done something about it?" he echoed. His voice was quiet and his eyes locked on Jennifer. "If we'd known?"

She started. She hadn't expected it to be John who came back at her. "I... maybe," she said. "I don't know for sure, but it's the way it's expanded tst have made it inoperable, and initially, it was too small to show up on the scanners. Now we can see it fine." Understatement. "It might have been possible."

"Then you should have known," John said through gritted teeth. "You should have figured it out."

"Colonel," Lorne said, in quiet warning behind him.

He ignored his second. "You should have known, Keller. Don't you dare tell me that you can't let me do this."

Jennifer took a step back, even though John hadn't moved any closer. "I... John, I'm so sorry," she said, regret and guilt all over her face. "I wish I'd known more--I wish I'd done things differently."

Guilt. So much guilt in the air.

"Yeah, you should have done things differently," he said, voice getting louder.

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said in warning.

John ignored him, too. Ignored everyone but Jennifer. "You could have saved him. He's just going to keep getting worse and then he's going to be gone. How long does he have? Days? How long until he stops recognising any of us--until he's terrified because he doesn't know where he is, what he's supposed to be doing--how long until he can't function at all?"

A flare of pain crossed her face, the weight of Rodney's condition settling in squarely on top of her shoulders. "I haven't given up. There's still time, John," she said. "There could be something I haven't tried yet. Some way to save him."

"No, there isn't, because you waited too long! Why the hell did you wait? You should have recognised that something was wrong!" Rodney had been wonderful. So wonderful. Perhaps not John's Rodney--not the Rodney he really knew--but things had never been so perfect.

"John, please." Teyla touched his arm. "There was no way that she could have known. We all thought Rodney was fine."

John jerked his arm away and took a step toward Keller.

"Sheppard," Ronon said, standing very still now.

"You should have known!" John shouted. "You're a goddamned doctor--he's your patient--you didn't help him! You haven't done enough to help him and now you won't let me say goodbye to my mate!" Another step. "You have no right--none at all. He's mine and you fucked this up!"

He couldn't take a third step toward Jennifer. Lorne and Ronon were on him in an instant, each taking hold of one of his arms. They slammed him into the wall hard enough that it shook.

Jennifer didn't move, not even when John started advancing on her. "I'm sorry," she said, eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry." She turned to look at Teyla, shook her head 'no', just once, then turned and walked out of the room as fast as she could.

***

"Hi, Doc." John hovered nervously in the doorway to Jennifer's office.

If John looked nervous, Jennifer looked... well. Scared. Any ground they'd gained as far as her not being afraid of John had pretty much been lost. "John... hi," she said softly.

"I would like to apologise," he said. "For the way I treated you."

She bit her lip, and she didn't entirely stop looking scared, but she nodded. "No one is at their best when..." She trailed off. "I accept your apology," she said. She couldn't start crying again. That wouldn't help anything. It was hard not to though. She and Ronon were barely speaking, except to fight, and she hadn't slept properly since... well. Since.

John glanced over his shoulder as if looking for someone. Major Lorne was undoubtedly more or less in his back pocket right now. He looked at Jennifer. "The last thing I wanted was to frighten you," he added. "You were a scapegoat for my own anger. I should have known that he wasn't my Rodney and something was wrong, but he was just... he was perfect."

"It was sweet," Jennifer said, and damn it, she had to quickly wipe away a tear. She didn't want to do this in front of John. It wasn't fair. "Romantic. I thought he was... I don't know. Taking time to smell the roses with the person he loved."

"So did I," said John, looking determinedly at a spot just above her left shoulder.

"It's not your fault either, John," Jennifer said, her exhaustion showing on her face. "These are the times... these are the moments that doctors hate the most. The ones where there isn't something to blame or a way to fight."

John closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Please," he said, "can we talk to Rodney about taking him to this cave?"

She knew it was a bad idea. She knew that they shouldn't do it. But the defeat, the look on John's face--he fully expected her to refuse. "We can talk to Rodney," she said. "If he understands... if it's something he wants, we can consider it. Fair enough?"

He looked at her again. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'd like to do it now. He still recognises me when I walk into the room, even if he doesn't fully understand why."

She nodded and stood up. "That's probably a good idea," she said, hesitating, then touching John's arm, just for a moment, before leading the way to Rodney.

***

Right now, more than anything--John wished Elizabeth was there.

She'd know the right thing to say. The right thing to do. She'd help.

John missed her.


| Chapter 9 |