He's Okay

by Kez

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ask/kez/okay.php
Summary: He's okay... from Sheppard's POV

The intercom was still active, and I could *feel* the tension through the com, seconds ticking by into what felt like hours.

"He's okay."

Two of the greatest words ever uttered in my opinion... He's okay.

For the longest time, too long, it was touch and go, we waited, forced to seek whatever measure of comfort we could by grouping together in the briefing room, listening intently over the intercom, desperately, needing to hear what was going on in the medical bay.

Had we had our choice we would have been there, but Carson was insistent and not without point, we'd only get in the way and distract him, he needed silence.

But now it was okay, we've heard the words we needed to and relief flooded into all of us, he's okay.

McKay is okay.

~~~~~

We were off-world, but McKay had complained of feeling ill, so we'd been forced to head back to the Stargate, though not right away, I'd assumed he was faking, and insisted on going just that little bit further... It's a mistake I'll never make again.

We were half way back to the Stargate before I realized McKay was serious, he was looking more pale by the second, he was almost translucent by the time we reached the edge of the clearing that housed the Stargate, but on that last stretch he just keeled over.

I don't think I've ever been more petrified.

He was convulsing violently, screaming in agony, and all I could do was order Ford to run, dial the gate, and get help.

I wanted to lift him, get him back to Atlantis ASAP, but I had no clue what was wrong, and I couldn't stand the thought of putting him through more pain.

Beckett didn't arrive nearly quick enough for my liking, and when he did, all he could do was administer a sedative, and rush McKay back to Atlantis.

Tests, tests, I lost track of them all. McKay slept through most of them thankfully, because the few times he did wake it was only to more pain, each time seemingly worse.

His skin was ashen, but he was boiling to the touch... and I admit for those first days, before Carson finally kicked us all out of his way, I touched every spare moment I could, it was like I needed him to know I was there, and in a way, I suppose, I needed to be sure he was still there, I lost count of how often my fingers graced his wrist to check his pulse, regardless of what the machines told me I needed to *feel* the blood pumping there.

Finally though, Beckett was able to give us answers, a virus, 'a nasty critter' as he described it.

Days stretched into weeks. McKay lost weight, nothing seemed to be working, this nasty critter of the Doctors was resilient, and eating away at McKay like he was an all you can eat buffet.

Hope was at it's lowest point when Beckett told us he thought he'd finally found a combination that would destroy the virus, but in itself it was dangerous, every time we failed the virus seemed to get stronger, one more failed attempt would undoubtedly kill him.

All this left us where we are now, in the briefing room, waiting, hoping, and praying to whatever God we did or didn't believe in, waiting for Beckett's diagnosis.

"He's okay."

The words run through my mind again.

McKay is okay... I think, a miracle like this could almost make me believe in God again.

~~~~~

*48 hours later*

Beckett has finally let us into see him, one at a time.

I left my turn till last, letting the others go ahead of me, I got a few comments from people who'd seen him, things along the lines of 'he's looking better', but when I walked into that room...

My God he looked awful.

He was still quite pale, his eyes blood shot, and he'd lost several stone at least... it's strange, I'd seen it happen, but after not seeing him for a few days, it hit me how much the virus had really damaged him, and my immediate worry, was if he'd ever fully recover.

"Hey." His voice is raspy, but it's good to hear it.

I smile at him a little, and get a weak one back.

He's too weak to talk much, so I do most of the talking, but when he does speak, what he says surprises me.

He was aware of my presence while he was sedated.

I didn't really think he would be, with the drugs.

I'm not sure what to say, but when he fingers gently curl around mine, it doesn't really matter.

Carson's presence interrupts us and I'm forced to leave and let him rest, but the look in his eyes as our hands slip apart tells me what I need to know... he's okay... and I think there is a good chance we're going to be better than okay.

Fini... maybe...