Disclaimer: See chapter one.
I could feel the world rushing around me even, if all I could see was a bleak horizon of darkness ahead.
I could hear Carson talking to me through my
darkened abyss about what had happened. Apparently I had been shot on
my last mission.
Teyla often came and informed me of how the Athosian people were coping on the mainland. Ronon Joined her.
I tried to join them, tried to come back.
Zelenka would come in whenever a device of importance had been found or when my…his team made a break through.
I missed my work.
Even Kavangaugh came in once. That had to be one of the bigger shocks of my life.
The pain became less and less as the days past. I don't know weather that's good or bad. Medicine is voodoo.
My eyes wouldn't open.
Cadman sat with me for a little while. She and Carson ended up acting all mushy.
I have so much time just laying here, listening to life bustle on around me, hearing the nurses gossip over Lorne –such ignorance that they can't see he is head over heels for Parrish-, that I have realized that a love-sick doctor is irony at it's worst.
His voice is almost foreign when he finally comes to see me for the first time.
He just sits there, saying nothing but hi. It's oddly comforting.
He comes every day from then on. It doesn't take long for his voice to reclaim it territory in my heart, even if he only says one word.
The fifth time he does something different, he held my hand, squeezing it as hard as he could while still being tender. I felt my heart flutter at that precise moment.
Holding my hand is part of his routine now. It would feel strange if he didn't.
Nothing changes until I hear his quiet sobs echoing through the darkness, slicing through it like a knife. He's apologizing.
Within the confines of my scattered mind I scream at him to shut up, it wasn't his fault.
He continues, my protests left unheard by everybody but myself.
I'm fighting even harder to get back now. All I need to do is open my eyes.
Something tells me that if I don't come back now, I won't ever be able to come back.
He squeezes my hand tighter as he tells me they can't sustain the life support machines for much longer.
I understand why his crying.
This is goodbye.
I feel him put something around my neck, the object cold against my chest as it hangs off a chain. I know what it is. I know what it means.
I try to stop him but the effort is futile. I feel useless
Even if by some miracle he can hear me it finally hits me that stopping him would make me a hypocrite. I may be egotistical, arrogant, snarky at best but one thing I'm not is a hypocrite.
I could easily see the roles reversed. It was why I took the bullets for him in the first place.
This was the way it was to be.
I love you, how I wish I could have told him that.
I love you, John.
"God, I love you so much." I'm socked as I realized that I wasn't the one to say that. Other people are with us now; he's still clutching my hand.
Carson said that it's time. John's grip grows stronger.
He tells Carson to wait; my guess is right before they pulled the plug.
I feel my world delving deeper into the darkness as a pair of sweet lips capture my own.
I'm trying to return the kiss but with no avail.
I love you.
The infirmary is silent as Carson pulled the plug, Colonel Sheppard's forehead upon Rodney McKay's. No one says anything for a long time. No one says anything about the kiss taken at the last second. No one mentions anything about the whispered words of love as the machine finally relinquished control. No one mentions the glinting silver of military issue dog tags around the departed scientist's neck. No one even moves.
"John?" Elizabeth questions attentively, placing a gentle hand on the ranking military officer's shoulder. That's all it takes. The spell that captivated them all is broken. John straightens up and leaves without a word. In his absence the group shared a silent agreement to give him some space. They had no idea at the time and in the years to come, each would regret it.
Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was announced dead no less then one hour after the death of Dr. Rodney McKay, having shot himself with his own gun in the confines of his quarters.
A note had been found on his beside table.
Two sentences stained the paper in royal blue, mixed with tears.
I love you.