Status: Completed 9/8/2008

Word Count: 3435

KELLER

I don't wait for orders as McKay lands the puddle jumper. As soon as the rear hatch opens, I jump out and make a b-line for the infirmary. I have no way of knowing just how badly injured the colonel and Ronon are. By the time I arrive, the nurses already have the colonel on a bed and are trying, with little success, to get Ronon into one. They both look like they've had a building drop on them (not surprising since that's exactly what happened), but the colonel definitely took the worst of it.

Ronon is steady enough on his feet, but still needs to be looked at. He attempts to approach the colonel, but I point to a bed and tell him, "Sit." Sergeant Hutchins, one of the Daedalus nurses, begins to help him while I turn my full attention to the colonel.

His breathing is shallow. He's got several cuts on his face, but at first glace I'd say they are mostly superficial. Head and facial wounds tend to bleed a lot because the blood vessels are so close to the skin and are almost always less serious than they look. I start at his collarbones and run my hands over his chest and abdomen looking for broken bones or any sign of internal injuries. Just below his ribs on the right side, I feel a tear in his shirt and pull my hand away. My glove is bloody. Looking closer I can see that the right side of his shirt is soaked with blood. I pull up his shirt to see a bloody field dressing. With another bandage already ready to replace it, I carefully remove it. As I suspected it would, this pulls at the wound and causes the bleeding to begin again, if it ever even stopped fully. I quickly replace it with the new bandage.

Having gathered the necessary equipment, one of the Daedalus nurses, Travers I think his name is, starts setting up the IVs. One of the nurses from my Atlantis team, Summers, begins cleaning the blood off of his face. The cuts may look superficial, but we still need to make sure none of them need stitches. Satisfied that those issues are being taken care of, I check the colonel's pulse and blood pressure. Both are lower than I'm comfortable with, but I'm confident he won't crash on me this minute so I turn my attention back to the wound. If he loses much more blood he'll go into shock and that's the last thing he needs right now.

I get a little annoyed as Travers and Summers bump into each other, shaking the bed a little. Realizing that he and Travers are tripping over each other too much, Nurse Summers backs off and lets Travers finish his work.

Sam's voice in my ear makes me jump. "Doctor Keller."

"Yes," I reply.

"How are Sheppard and Ronon?"

She can't hide the concern in her voice. "Ronon seems fine, just some minor cuts and bruises. I'm sure he'll be giving the nurses a hard time any minute now. The colonel wasn't so lucky." I continue working on the colonel as I fill her in. I remove the bloody bandage and apply another, keeping pressure on it. "He has a puncture wound on his right side. I don't think any vital organs were damaged." I don't want to worry her, she has enough on her plate right now, so I don't tell her that I'm almost positive he has a ruptured spleen. "He has some cuts and abrasions on his face and right arm, but they all seem pretty minor. I'm sorry, Colonel, I know you need him right now, but he's not going anywhere for a while."

"But he's going to be okay?"

"He's going to need some time to recover, but he should be fine." I hope. He's pale from blood loss. Not the white as a sheet or ghost kind of white, but pale enough to have me worried. Shock is definitely a concern right now.

"Do what you have to do, Doctor. Keep me posted."

She sounds relieved. "Will do." I just hope I'm right.

Travers looks up at me as he inserts the last IV. "Start him on a broad spectrum anti-biotic," I tell him. "He's dehydrated, so lets get him on Ringers Lactate. Give him copraxomol for pain." I enter the necessary information into my medical pad and had it to Travers, who gets to work quickly. Once he's done, he sets up the Pulse Oximeter and puts it on the colonel's finger.

After a few minutes, the colonel moans and finally opens his eyes as I ease the pressure on his wound. He grimaces as I pull the gauze away. Thankfully, the bleeding has finally stopped.

Sure enough, just as I'm pulling the dressing away, I hear Ronon. I glance up and see Ronon standing and Nurse Hutchins backing away. I don't blame the Hutchins for backing off. Ronon can be very scary and intimidating. Especially when he's hurt, angry, or worried about a friend. I block out what's going on with him and focus on Colonel Sheppard, who is fully awake now. His breathing seems to have improved as well. "I thought we'd lost you there."

"Yeah, well, for a second I though we'd lost me," he replies. I'm not sure if he's referring to his injury, or the fact that Michael's hybrids almost got to him before we did. I clean the wound as I tell him about how we were able to get him and Ronon out and what happened as a result of lowering the shields. His head jerks up as I mention McKay's name.

"McKay is alive?" He asks hopefully.

"Yeah. Yeah, he and Lorne were the only two to make it out of the rubble."

"Are they . . .?"

"They're fine," I answer as before he can finish his question. "Rodney just has a minor cut on his leg. Lorne's leg is broken." At his concerned look, I quickly add, "It's a clean break. He'll be back on his feet in about six weeks or so."

"Patch me up. I need to get back out there." He tries to push himself up.

Is he kidding me? He has to be in some serious pain. And I'm sure he realizes that the hole in his side is more than just a flesh wound.

I gently push him back down. "Look, no, no, no. No, look, you will be fine, but you're . . . far from it now. You've lost a lot of blood. You need surgery and a transfusion. I mean this, this can't wait." I'm not kidding. He needs a transfusion just to replace what blood he's already lost.

"Look, Doc, Michael is . . . here," his pain is obvious as he speaks, but he is persistent, "that means Teyla's probably on the ship."

"I know that, colonel, but . . ."

He continues on as if he doesn't hear me.

"I'm too close to sit here and do nothing."

Jeez is he stubborn! "You're not going to be sitting around doing nothing, you're going to be laying here in surgery."

"Hey, look it, there's gotta be like . . . " He grimaces in pain as he moves a little. "There's gotta be a quick fix. Just . . ."

"No." I say as I turn back to my tray.

"I need a few hours." He's so damn persistent! Does he have a death wish or something?

"I'm sorry, I can't." I start to walk away but he reaches out quickly and grabs my arm. I look down at his bloody hand then up to his face. He grimaces briefly; eyes closed then looks at me. Determination is etched in his features, mixed with grief and something else. He's not going to give up.

"I have had a chance to rescue a teammate before and it slipped through my hands. I am not letting that happen again."

I turn my head slightly. I don't know what to say. He doesn't have to say who that teammate is. I've heard about what happened to Lieutenant Ford. The pain and self-recrimination I see in his eyes makes my heart ache. I can only imagine how this must be affecting him. But still, he's seriously injured. As a doctor, my first priority is to my patient's physical needs, not the emotional ones. I prefer to leave that to the shrinks.

I could slip something into his IV, but then he'd be pretty angry with me when he woke up and I'd lose whatever trust I've earned with him and the other members of this expedition. Especially the members of his team. Besides, Teyla is my friend. If anyone can bring her back, it's Colonel Sheppard.

He still hasn't let go of my arm. He looks so determined. If I don't allow him to do this, and if I don't drug the hell out of him, he'll slip out and do it anyway. Maybe even hurt himself more. Every doctoring instinct I have is screaming at me not to let him go. To heavily sedate him, and even strap him down, if necessary, to make sure he stays put.

It wouldn't be the first time he's escaped my infirmary before I was ready to release him.

But the part of me that is Teyla's friend is yelling just as loud to let him go. He's a trained fighter. He knows his limits. He wouldn't endanger Teyla, himself, and anyone else who goes with him by going on a mission he didn't honestly believe he could handle. I'm torn between the doctor in me and the friend.

While we aren't as close as he and his teammates are, I consider the colonel to be a friend too and I'd like to believe he thinks the same of me. Which makes this even harder. As much as I want to help and protect him, I understand his need to do this.

His color is closer to normal now, so against my better judgment, I agree. "Fine. If you'll sit still a while longer, I'll patch you up and you can go save Teyla. A pressure bandage should hold until you can get back." I doubt it though.

He nods in agreement, looking relieved and a little surprised. I think he was ready for more of a fight from me.

"As soon as you get her back though, I want your butt in the infirmary, either here or on Atlantis, I don't care which. And I swear, Colonel, if you come back with any more holes than you're leaving with or any more damage to your abdominal wound, I will make you regret this. Understand?"

He lets go of my arm and gives me a small smile then closes his eyes and leans back on his pillow as I get to work. Summers returns and finishes cleaning the cuts and abrasions while I work on the wound to his side. Ronon approaches his bed as we work. I'm sure the colonel knows he's there, but he keeps his eyes closed until Summers and I are done.

"Remember what I said, Colonel," I tell him as he opens his eyes. He nods and gives me another small smile. As I walk away I hear him say to Ronon; "I have an idea."

CARTER

"We could launch a 302 attack," I say as I turn my chair towards Rodney. He turns to say something, but doesn't get the chance.

"That's what I was thinking." We both look up in surprise as we hear John's voice in the doorway. We turn to see him entering the room, Ronon right behind him.

"Colonel. Doctor Keller said you were out of commission."

"She . . . revised her diagnosis," he says as his hand goes to his side.

From the look on Ronon's face, I can tell there's something he's not telling me. He looks at Ronon then back to me. "Look, we may have an idea."

"Maybe a way to get Teyla back," Ronon adds.

I'm silent for a moment as I consider what they've just said. Sheppard is smart, a lot smarter than he lets on. If he has an idea, I'm willing to listen.

Both Rodney and I listen quietly as John and Ronon give us the details of their plan. It's a good plan. One that could very well work. I'm not the commander of this vessel though. Caldwell needs to hear this too.

"Let's go talk to Caldwell," I say as I get up and exit the room.

"We need to take out the Cruiser's main weapons. The easiest way for us to do that right now is to launch an attack with 302s."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call that easy," Caldwell begins. I knew he'd be skeptical, so I remain quiet and let him finish. "They'll just send out darts to intercept them."

Ronon speaks up before I can. "That's what we're counting on."

"In order to launch the darts, they'll have to open the bay doors," Rodney adds. "If we have a cloaked jumper in place a small team should be able to sneak on the cruiser undetected."

John chooses that moment to add his own comments. "Find Teyla, bust her out, blast our way home." He makes it sound so simple when it really isn't. And he knows it.

"As a rule I like to keep daring rescues down to one a day," Caldwell says, a bit sarcastically, as he looks at John.

"Shields are already down to twenty percent. It's just a matter of time before they fail completely." I pause and give Caldwell a moment to consider what we're asking. His resistance is beginning to fade. "She's over there, Steven, counting on us." I deliberately use his name instead of his rank. "I won't take no for an answer."

He's silent a moment more then he shakes his head and relents. "All right. Take a cloaked jumper. Radio us when you're in position."

Ronon and Rodney are moving before he finishes his last sentence. John is a little slower to move. Steven and I share one last look and nod to each other then I turn and follow the others. As I come alongside John, I see that he is holding his side again.

He's hurt a lot worse than he's letting on, but moves with a confident stride as he passes me. I shouldn't let him go. Hell, I shouldn't have even let him follow us to the bridge to speak to Caldwell. Although, I suppose that fact that he's standing on his own two feet completely unaided and steady, is a good sign.

"John," I begin as I follow closely behind him, "what really happened in the infirmary?"

"Nothing," he says. Although he is obviously trying, he can't hide the pain in his voice. After 8 years of fieldwork with O'Neill, I know how to spot it when someone is trying to hide an injury. No matter how good they are at covering it up. I learned from the master, after all. Does he actually expect me to believe that? I doubt it, he knows me better than that by now. He should know I won't just let it drop either. I put my arm out and touch his, gently turning him towards me. He stops. "So, you're telling me that if I go down there right now and talk to Jennifer she'll tell me you're fit for duty?"

We both know the answer to that one. I have no idea what he said to her to get her to release him, but I can guarantee that she did it very reluctantly.

He sighs. "I'm just trying to do a job."

God! He reminds me so much of General O'Neill. Always quick with the sarcastic remarks to hide his true feelings. Relentlessly defending his teammates, his friends. The only real difference between them is that John, while not drawing attention to the fact that he is an extremely intelligent man, does not go to the lengths that the general did, still does actually, to hide it. They both hide their own pain when a teammate is hurt or otherwise needs help.

"So am I." I am the commander of this base. While I know that John is more than capable of taking care of himself, he is still my responsibility. As his superior officer, I can, and should, order him back to the infirmary. "And part of my job is determining whether or not you're going to be a liability on this mission." I hate putting it to him like that, but it is the way it is.

The general wouldn't have liked that answer either back when he was just a colonel and still leading SG-1, if it had come from Hammond.

Now I know how both Generals Hammond and O'Neill felt when they were in charge of the SGC. This is not as easy a decision to make as many would think it to be.

"Colonel," I have never seen John look so determined as he speaks, "I have more respect for you than any other commanding officer I have ever had, but I'm getting on that jumper, end of story. I'll surrender for court marshal when I'm, done."

He doesn't even wait for me to reply, just turns and walks down the corridor towards the jumper bay. I think about what he said as I watch him go. I had no idea he thought so highly of me. We have talked on several occasions, and he has rarely given me any trouble, but still . . .

Oh yeah, just like General O'Neill. I read his file before I arrived at Atlantis. I've also read all of his mission reports. I have to say, I respect the hell out of him too. He did a hell of a job running the military aspects of this base after being unexpectedly thrust into the position. And he did it for over a year with no support from higher up, completely cut off from Earth. He's done a hell of a job running it since getting promoted and officially made the military commander of Atlantis.

So, while I know I should stop him and will probably get my ass chewed out for not doing it, I'm not even going to try. He'll find a way around anything I try, and may wind up hurting himself worse in the process. The fact is, he can't not go. It's not stubborn 'pain don't hurt' male pride ego. It's just who he is. Like I said, he is so much like the general. John may not have ever been in the Special Forces, but he lives and breathes the belief that no man gets left behind. Just like O'Neill.

It really is amazing how alike their records are. Especially after John joined the Stargate program and came to Atlantis. Fighting even when ill and/or injured when necessary. The way he took out Kolya's men when they tried to take over Atlantis. I'm not sure how happy the general would be if I ever mention the similarities to him, but they are there. John reminded me of the general almost as soon as I met him. His hair, albeit a bit longer than the general's, is just as unruly. He has the same sarcastic, self-deprecating sense of humor. He puts his own self-worth at the bottom of the pile. Everyone, right down to the mess cooks, is more important than him. He'd risk his life for any one of them without a second thought. He sits back and lets Rodney come up with solutions to things I'm sure he could figure out on his own. Hell, even the friendship between him and Rodney reminds me a great deal of the one the general shares with Daniel.

And flying. They're both like a kid in a candy store when it comes to flying.

He won't get court marshaled. I won't allow it to get that far. I'm sure General O'Neill won't either. I'll talk to him personally if I have too. I, like Daniel and Teal'c, have an open invitation to visit him in Washington any time I'd like.

While Rodney is getting better at piloting the jumper, there isn't anyone on Atlantis that comes even close to John's skill at flying them. If anyone can pull this off and bring Teyla and the rest of his team home safely, it's John. All I can do now is keep my fingers crossed and wish them well.

God speed, John Sheppard.

THE END