A/N: I offer this little ditty up as pure whump indulgence (extra frosting, hold the cake). Teyla gets her chance to Sheppard-watch this time, completing a of trio of stories that began long, long ago with shEppard equals MCscrewed.
I believe the word you're looking for is: "gratuitous"
Teyla tucked her hair behind an ear to keep the tickling strands away from her face, and shifted her shoulders under her heavy tactical vest. A few paces ahead of her on the narrow dirt path, she watched John perform a similar shimmy, settling his own vest after having just stripped off his jacket in favor of the short-sleeved, black uniform shirt underneath. The jacket was tied around his waist by the sleeves which told Teyla that he expected to put it on again soon. She looked up through the leafy canopy and agreed with his assessment; it was mid-evening and once the sun dipped a bit lower, the path they followed would cool quickly and they would be grateful for the warmth of their exertions. At the moment though, the temperate forest around them was hot and muggy with the lingering humidity of a late morning shower, made even stickier when the sun burned through about the time they'd left the Dolsan village an hour ago.
"Remind me again why we're walking?" John groused, swiping an arm across his brow and Teyla frowned a bit at the complaint she would have expected instead from Rodney. The scientist was plodding along a few steps behind Ronon who walked point, wiping his own face yet remaining resignedly quiet.
Teyla felt the weariness among her team like a lead blanket weighing down every step, and yet, she knew that the burden they all carried was far more than the fatigue of a long walk and a restless night among strangers. Since Atlantis had settled in the waters of their new planet and Colonel Carter had assumed command of the city, they had had little chance to acclimate, to rest in the changes thrust upon them. It was unsettling, and upsetting. So much had changed and was changing, and she felt all of them struggling to adjust. A simple mission, as this had been, would normally have been refreshing, a vacation almost. But today, they were all simply desperate to get home.
"Anyone? Hello? Idle conversation to kill the time people?"
Teyla raised her eyebrows at the petulance in John's voice and answered the original question that she had assumed was rhetorical, "The Dolsan village is 10 miles from the 'gate. We decided that a jumper would alarm the villagers unnecessarily and to approach them on foot. That is why we're walking." She found herself more amused than annoyed at John's irritated boredom, and the hint of laughter in her tone brought a slight improvement to his posture.
"That and the Giant Sequoia that decided to take a nosedive onto the Stargate," Rodney chimed in, his voice equal parts disgust at the inconvenience, and pleasure at finally getting an invitation to vent. "There's no way a jumper could get through that tangle."
"So, what? We've got no chainsaws on Atlantis?" retorted John, as if Rodney was arguing with him.Teyla was still watching John, a small, niggling worry surfacing as she mused on the mood of her team. Of all of them, John had seemed the strongest, the most secure in weathering the storms around them these difficult past months. He simply kept doing what he had to do, and pulled others through on the strength of his conviction that they would survive; that things would get better. And he had managed to do it in that unique, charmingly lazy John Sheppard way. That is, she realized in a moment of sudden intuition, until a few weeks ago when the crystal entity had taken his dreams and turned them against him.
Ever since they had shocked the creature back into its crystal home and returned it to its native planet, John had just seemed distant and perhaps a little bit irritable. Not overtly so, and not to the point of concern, but lately she had felt him weighted with some burden she didn't quite understand, at least not yet. Teyla shuddered in horror at the memory of her own infected nightmares, and she forced down caustic fury at the creature that had taken her friend and counselor, Kate, from her. She found herself looking to John, as had become unconscious habit, for the reassurance of his comforting optimism.
He was scrubbing the top of his head furiously in the way she knew he liked to make the fluffy spikes on his head stay carefully untidy, and she chuckled softly at the familiar gesture of Sheppard vanity. Whatever burden the experience had laid upon him, John would work it through; of this Teyla was certain. She had long guessed that John had challenges and losses in his past that, like her, had hardened him - had prepared him for the challenges of his life on Atlantis. And she would be nearby if he needed someone to turn to, as he was for her. Not that he ever had done so before...
"Chainsaws are for you barbarian-types. I tried to talk Zelenka into calibrating a drone to burn a path." Rodney had apparently decided to take on the verbal challenge."And burn down the forest in the process? We barbarian-types actually prefer C4 for blasting obstacles." Teyla recognized a full-blown McKay-Sheppard griping contest brewing and she was casting around in her mind for some other topic of conversation to distract the two when Ronon beat her to it.
"The stew gets burned if you're arguing over the fire," he rumbled wisely and Teyla grinned at McKay's exaggerated shrug of annoyance.
"And what is that obtuse bit of Satedan folk nonsense supposed to mean?"
"It means: Stop complaining and keep walking." Ronon explained dangerously, and Rodney displayed a rare moment of wisdom himself and changed the subject.
"So did anyone else understand what that Shaman person was going on about as we left? He seemed pretty upset we were leaving."
Sheppard grunted in negation, "No, he wasn't upset that we were leaving, he was warning us about the monsters and beasties in the forest that come out at night and change people into the murderous undead." John paused and cocked his head, "At least I think that's what all the hand waving and maraca shaking was about."
"...monsters?" McKay suddenly looked around in alarm at the lengthening shadows under the trees and there was a hint of a stutter in his voice as he continued, "What kind of monsters exactly are we talking about and shouldn't we have listened to the man?"
John just shrugged, "I got the feeling those people use the monster stories to keep kids at home after dark. They all seemed on the melodramatic side. Probably just exaggeration and metaphor to teach a lesson. There aren't any monsters, McKay." He suddenly slapped the back of his neck and Teyla watched him examine the squashed remains of the offending pest briefly, then flick it off his hand. "There are some annoying insects, though..." he groused.
"But most myths have some basis in fact, what if it isn't all exaggeration? Teyla, what do you think?"
Teyla considered the question carefully, grateful at least that they weren't still complaining. "I think that the Dolsans are an unusual community. They avoid the Wraith by living in difficult environments and keeping their villages very, very small. When one camp grows too large, they split and some will leave to find a new home, taking their culture and their stories with them. I believe that their stories keep them connected to their larger community, and that the Shaman are charged with the duty of maintaining a unified culture across all the small camps. That and maintaining the secret of the tea they alone are able to cultivate."
"Ah, yes. The Tea," Sheppard intoned dramatically. "Worth a 6 hour round trip walk and a really cold night with a rock for a pillow..." His tone was sarcastic, but he shot Teyla a quirky look that told her he was only teasing. Mostly.
"The Dolsan Tea fetches a high price on many worlds and the Athosians are among the very few who have an established trade relationship with them. I myself negotiated the arrangement many years ago. Besides, Dr. Keller believes the tea may have some interesting analgesic properties. It was wise to initiate a relationship for Atlantis to trade on."
"But what about the monsters?!" Rodney insisted bullishly, more interested in his safety than tea. "Do you think there really are monsters here?"
Teyla sighed, giving up trying to interest her teammates in the reason for their visit. "Yes, Rodney. I think that the Dolsans believe that there really are monsters here." John turned to her slightly in a sidelong look of mischievous appreciation for her choice of phrase that was clearly meant to torture their paranoid friend.
"But...! Oh never mind," Rodney gave up in disgust, recognizing that he was being ganged up on.
"Don't worry, Rodney," John reassured heartily. "I've got all the monster repellent we need." He patted the P-90 swinging freely from its clip on his vest. "And I even saved a few silver bullets if an undead zombie pops onto the path."
"Those are for werewolves."
"Mmmm?" hummed John disinterestedly.
"Silver bullets. Those are for werewolves."
"Oh yeah, right."
"I thought you had to drive a stake through the heart to kill a werewolf?" This time it was Ronon who chimed in hesitantly, testing out his fledgling Earth trivia.
"No, no. A stake is for Vampires, silver bullets for werewolves, and you have to smash the brain to stop a zombie. Seriously, you both need to brush up on your monster killing facts."
"Because we don't have enough real monsters to fight out here." Teyla thought she just barely caught John follow his own comment with a low, "Wraith and replicators and bugs..."
For Teyla's part, she wasn't even sure if the creatures her friends were discussing were real or imaginary; Earth people seemed to enjoy so many different stories and fictional characters. "These werewolves and vampires, they really are creatures from your world?" she asked John curiously.
He shot her a genuine grin, and she was pleased to see the pleasant expression on his face for a change. "Exaggeration and metaphor, Teyla. Exaggeration and metaphor," he said.
The sun seemed to drop quickly over the next fifteen minutes of their hike and Teyla was beginning to realize that they would definitely not reach the 'gate before it was fully dark, especially under the shadow of the forest canopy. The darkness did not frighten her, but the evening gloom did make her feel more tired and sleepy than she otherwise would be. Trying to convince herself that the feeling was misleading - it would be only early afternoon when they stepped back onto Atlantis after all - she concentrated again on watching her friends, as she always did, and on staying alert to danger around them.
Ronon and Rodney were now walking side by side, apparently discussing Vampire stories, Ronon sounding incredulously fascinated that the Earth people could have imagined a creature so similar to the Wraith without actually having ever seen a real one. John had returned to his weary boredom, and a small knot of concern for him seeded itself in Teyla's chest. He rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his head as if relieving tension. Teyla thought he was almost dragging his feet and she made a mental note to swing by his door this evening back on Atlantis and make sure he was resting properly. John would not appreciate the gesture, but he might get some extra rest if he felt he needed to prove the fact to her. Teyla was not above employing trickery to ensure the health of her team!
Even despite her preoccupation with John's moodiness and uncharacteristic weariness, she was still completely taken by surprise when he suddenly stumbled and fell to his knees right in front of her. "John?!"
Her startled query, earned the attention of McKay and Ronon who turned around in equal surprise. Teyla rushed the few steps it took to close the distance between them, but held herself back from reaching for him.
"Tripped!" John blurted out, sounding thoroughly embarrassed. He planted one foot and pushed himself up by his thigh, brushed dirt off his knees and rubbed his neck again in a futile attempt to ignore their attention. When it didn't work, and all three remained staring at him in various states of amusement, he wagged his head and smirked, "Ok. Ha, ha. Laugh at the man when he's down." He waved his arm at the path in disgust and grunted, "Keep movin'. Show's over."
Ronon chuckled and returned to his position on the path without a glance back, but Teyla remained close by and did not miss the slight limp John was clearly pushing through with his first few steps. He had fallen rather hard after all. John seemed determined to appear confident, however, and kept himself several paces ahead as they pressed doggedly onward. Teyla was just starting to relax and was thinking about bringing out her canteen for a drink of water when John stumbled again. He landed on his knees and slid to one side onto his hip, bracing himself with one arm against the ground, the other flung in the air, still futilely seeking for balance.
There was no disputing, this time, that the fall was due to more than rough ground and Teyla quickly crouched at his side to peer into his dazed face. "John, tell me what's wrong," she ordered firmly, informing him with her tone that she would accept no platitudes. She heard Ronon and Rodney gather around, as interested as her in the answer, all of them alert with sudden, worried tension. John Sheppard, of all people, didn't just fall down for no reason.
John just groaned and avoided her gaze, seeming at once both perfectly normal in the attempt to avoid attention and yet abnormally distracted. "I don't know. Feel a little dizzy." He shook his head a bit, as if trying to shake off the sensation, then suddenly winced and grabbed for his neck again.
A frightening thought revealed itself and Teyla sucked in an alarmed breath as she grabbed for John's shirt collar and jerked the fabric down over the vest's stiff edge. Prying his hands off the skin, she felt the fear twist into a knife jab of shock. A tiny white welt at the base of John's neck, just where the first smooth lumps of spine began, was oozing tiny drops of blood. The skin all around the welt, however, was flame red and splotchy in a ragged circle almost as broad as her palm. It felt hot and just slightly puffy to her gently probing fingertips.
Teyla quickly shifted to catch his eyes again, "What kind of insect stung you, John?" Rodney gasped at her question and yanked on John's collar to see the welt for himself. John, however, shook his head again and squinted at her, as if it took all his concentration to focus on her face. "What bit you?" she repeated, earnestly holding his eyes with her own.
John finally nodded and took a deep breath, pushing aside the discomfort he was obviously working through, "I thought it was a mosquito or fly or something. Looked more like a...a scorpion. Tiny scorpion. Don't know how it got there."
McKay was staring in horror at the spreading inflammation on John's neck and exclaimed at his response, "You got stung by a scorpion and you didn't say anything?! Do you know what can happen if you're allergic to the toxin? Anaphylactic shock can kill you in - oh hey. I have an EpiPen. Should I jab him with an EpiPen?!"
Rodney was already frantically digging into the pockets of his vest when John slapped him on the knee, then returned to rubbing his neck in irritation. "It was tiny, McKay. And I think if you're allergic to bees, you pretty much know right away. This guy got me - what- 20 minutes ago?" He scrubbed furiously at the obviously painful bite, then sighed as he gave up trying to make it feel better.
"You've been nursing a welt like that for 20 minutes and you didn't say anything?!" The indignation in Rodney's tone was clear, although Teyla was uncertain whether the outrage stemmed from concern for John, or from annoyance at John's ability to tolerate a lot more discomfort than Rodney ever could.
"Look, it didn't really start to bother me until just now, just felt like a fly bite at first and went away. Now it does sting a bit and I feel lightheaded, but can we skip the dramatics and just move on? I'll walk it off."
"You just got stung by a scorpion! You can't walk that kind of thing off!"
"IT WAS TINY!" John bellowed, and then turned to stare at Teyla, the request clear in his expression. Can we please just drop it?
Teyla narrowed her eyes and looked at John closely, knowing he would not give up the argument unless she seriously considered the request. His face seemed a bit flushed, but his eyes held no fever, and despite the moment of understandable distraction, he seemed lucid and normal. He was well aware that she was the one most likely to make the call, so he was watching her with equal intensity and she could tell he was trying very hard to appear annoyed rather than ill. She nodded, but shot a warning look at Ronon as she answered him.
"Very well. We are not stopping you from standing, John." The smirk on her lips told him she was merely humoring him and he smirked back, then rolled onto his knees to push up into a lurching stand. He got about halfway up when he suddenly slapped his hands on his thighs, bracing himself. He froze in that position for a heartbeat, then slowly started to pitch forward. Teyla grabbed for one arm, Ronon for the other, both shaking their heads in unamused worry at the expected outcome. John was breathing heavily just from the mild exertion of standing and when more and more of his weight sagged into her grip, she caught Ronon's eye and together they slowly lowered him back to the ground to sit with his head hanging low over his legs and his eyes tightly squeezed shut.
"I, uh, think I'll sit down for a while," John muttered to his knees. He didn't protest any further.
This time when Teyla knelt beside him, she was all business. She felt for John's pulse, frowning a bit when the flutter under her fingertips seemed fast and light, then rested her hand on his forehead, confirming that he held no fever, at least not yet. Knowing he would most likely complain, she nevertheless tilted his chin up and pried open one tightly closed eye. John grunted as expected, but Teyla's insistent concern won out and he held still long enough for her to confirm that his warm hazel eyes were clouded with pain and dizziness, in addition to being slightly dilated. When she was finished with her cursory examination, she sat back on her heels to find Ronon and Rodney watching her closely. John pressed his palms into his eyes and hunched over, his posture expressing the effort of suppressing an obviously increasing discomfort. Teyla rested her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of reassurance and shot a look of concern at Ronon.
"His pulse is elevated and his eyes are dilated. I do not believe he is suffering from an allergic reaction. But that means there was probably venom in the bite that is affecting him systemically in addition to the inflammation around the bite." She spoke hastily, the urgency in her tone apparent.
"So...should I jab him with my EpiPen?"
Teyla shook her head in impatience at Rodney's fascination with the device, "No, Rodney. I do not remember anything in the First Aid training about using adrenaline for treating a venomous bite. It may even be harmful, but I don't really know."
"So he needs a doctor!" Rodney blurted out, his voice roughened with panic although he was otherwise calm, "We have no idea what kind of toxins we're dealing with here, or how severe the effects may become. The systemic reaction may become deadly."
"Agreed, but how do we get him to one?"
"I'll carry him," Ronon volunteered, eager in his worry to do something, to get started.
"It's a two hour hike to the 'gate without lugging deadweight," Rodney pointed out, for once sounding unhappy about pointing out bad news.
"We return to the village, then," Teyla suggested quickly. "It would only take a little more than an hour, and perhaps someone there will know how to treat the sting."
"He needs a doctor. Not a witch-doctor Shaman shaking maracas at him!"
"This is their home, Rodney. They are certain to have encountered this before..." Teyla found herself annoyed at the insult she found in Rodney's dismissal of the villagers, then rebuked herself for the petty pride. Rodney was only stressed, and he tended to speak harshly when fear overcame his already limited ability to censor his thoughts. She did, however, maintain her belief that the people who knew best about a world were the people who lived there.
Ronon suddenly covered her hand on John's shoulder with his own, "McKay is right. Those people may be able to help some, but Sheppard needs the real thing. I've...I lost a man under my command on Tasedan to a jungle viper. I won't lose Sheppard that way."
Teyla jerked her surprised gaze at Ronon who returned the look with steady determination, although she could see the fear lurking deep underneath. She nodded firmly, accepting the challenge and sharing the oath. They wouldn't lose John that way. She took a deep breath, realizing that the men were waiting for her recommendation, deferring to her usual role as team medic. She felt the seconds ticking by as she weighed everything she'd learned on Atlantis about first aid and emergency medical treatment for venoms. The more she remembered, the more her concern for John grew as each once passed...
"Ronon, you run for the 'gate and bring back a medical team. Rodney and I will attempt to take John to the village. Meet us with the medical team there."
Both men paused briefly, thinking through the plan for themselves.
"Won't that take longer for us to get back to you?" Asked Ronon, reasonably. "Why don't you start for the 'gate too, then I and the medics won't have as far to come back to meet you."
Teyla had thought of that, "But then it would still be more than two hours before John received ANY help. I still believe the Dolsans may be able to do something, and the sooner the better. The village is closer."
Ronon wasn't convinced, but held his tongue. Rodney felt no burden of restraint.
"I think Ronon's right. There's no point in going to the village. If we're going to risk moving him at all, we should move towards actual help."
"If we were equal distance between the two, I would agree, Rodney," Teyla snapped, growing angry that the two men had deferred the decision to her, then stood around wasting time arguing the path she'd chosen. "But the Stargate is nearly twice as far away. The Dolsans live here, and though they live a simple life, they are not simpletons, Rodney. They will know about the insect that stung him, and maybe even be able to treat him, if only with palliatives and a warm fire, but it is more than we have out here sitting on the ground!"
"Do you really think -!"
"Teyla's right, McKay."
Ronon, Rodney, and Teyla were all startled by the hoarse interruption and they turned to find John squinting up at them with a fierce look of annoyance. "She knows the Dolsans a lot better than we do, if she says they can help...then, I guess I could really use some right now." John spoke the last through gritted teeth, the casual admission of his situation instantly cooling any further arguments, and heightening the tension perceptibly. Teyla nodded once at him in a small gesture of confident thanks, and he returned the look with a small hopeful look of terror.
McKay also nodded, grudgingly agreeing, and Ronon quickly stood up. Teyla watched him immediately turn his face down the path towards the Stargate and gather himself for the grueling run - and she knew he would actually run the whole way. With a last glance at her, Ronon bent over briefly to slap the back of John's head, "Fight the pain, Sheppard," he murmured, and then he was gone, swallowed up by the deepening shadows.
John reeled with the farewell gesture of affection but managed to keep his head up long enough to watch his friend disappear.
Teyla also decided to start moving at once. "Can you walk with our help?" She asked John, taking his arm and checking his pulse once more. It was still fast, and his hand felt cooler than his flushed face would seem to indicate.
"With...help," he finally replied in a hoarse whisper, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before looking at her again.
Teyla felt furious sympathy flood her eyes and she couldn't stop herself from asking, "How do you feel? Are you in great pain?"
John snorted weakly in disgusted amusement, but his eyes told the truth. "Feel...like we really need to pack more bug spray..."
Teyla just nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and forced a smile that lasted only briefly. At last, girding herself for their own grueling task ahead, she turned to Rodney. "Rodney, we'll each take an arm. John, just...do what you can."
Rodney muttered as he and Teyla positioned themselves on either side of John and knelt to tug his arms across their shoulders. Teyla saw John grit his teeth at the movement and his flushed face glistened with a fresh sheen of perspiration. Before they had even readied themselves for the final heave to get John standing, he growled out a long moan of frustration.
"Stop, stop, stop," he hissed between thin white lips. They quickly dropped his arms to crouch beside him again. He began to fumble for the P-90 clip on his chest and panted out, "Hurts like a bitch...have to...take off...my vest." Teyla quickly brushed his hands away to remove the heavy weapon herself. She handed it to McKay who grudgingly clipped it to his own vest.
"What hurts so badly, John?" She asked, unsure of why removing the vest was important.
"My back," he answered tightly.
Teyla finished pulling down the zipper on the tactical vest and gently tugged it open and down John's arms, trying to prevent it from scraping against his back as it fell off his shoulders. He sighed in relief once the stiff material was lying in a heap on the ground, instantly forgotten, and Teyla pulled down John's collar again to examine the original sting. The mottled red splotch had spread from shoulder to shoulder, up into his hairline, and as far down his back as she could uncover. Even in the dim light she could see the dark pattern of the fierce inflammation against what little pale, normal skin remained. The venom, or at least the skin's reaction to the venom, was spreading astonishingly quickly. Teyla shot a look of horror at Rodney who could only stare back in equal terror. She took a deep shuddering breath and and sent a silent plea to the Ancestors for the quick feet of Ronon and the untested wisdom of the Dolsans.
"Let's go," she said.