Voices in the Night
A Stargate: Atlantis snippet
By Deana Lisi

Tag for the first season episode, 'Poisoning the Well'.

A HUGE 'thank you' to my wonderful friend Karri, who dragged me nearly kicking and screaming into the SGA fandom! ;) You're the best! ;)

Here begins my collection of SGA snippets! ;)

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Carson Beckett was exhausted. So tired, that coffee wasn't doing a thing except make him jittery.

"You're supposed to eat that, not stare at it."

Blinking, Carson looked up to see John Sheppard standing beside him. He was holding a lunch tray, and sat across from the doctor. The Major picked up his turkey sandwich and took a big bite before frowning at Carson. "You okay?" he asked, talking with his mouth full.

Carson blinked again, his eyes trying to close by themselves. "Aye."

"Liar," John said. His voice was distorted by the food. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"I haven't," Carson answered.

John stopped chewing. "Why? That can't be healthy."

Carson gave him a lopsided smile, before sighing. "They won't let me sleep."

"Who?"

"The…voices."

John choked on his lunch. "Voices?! I think you need to see a doc, doc!"

Carson shook his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. "No no…I mean, the…the Hoffans..."

John hesitated. "Oh." He put down his sandwich and grabbed his tray, leaving his chair to sit beside Carson instead. "That was not your fault," he said. "You need to accept that. You can't live with guilt over something that you had no control over."

Carson sighed, eyes closed and head hanging down. "That drug was supposed ta help them…but instead, I had ta listen ta them die…"

John put a hand on his friend's shoulder, knowing the one voice that Carson could hear the loudest.

"Perna dinna deserve to die," Carson whispered. "None o'them did…"

John was silent, listening.

"I wish I'd never gone there," Carson said, sounding sad and angry at the same time. He opened his eyes and shook his head. "What I would give ta turn back time!"

John quirked a smile. "Who knows, doc, with the crazy stuff that goes on in this galaxy, I wouldn't be surprised if a time machine is the next thing we find!"

Carson said nothing, his expression one of devastation.

John sighed. "Did you try to convince the Hoffans to do more tests on the drug?"

Carson nodded.

"Did you tell them that you needed to autopsy that volunteer before clearing the drug as the cause of his death?"

Carson nodded again.

"Did you tell them not to test it on people until the drug was proven safe?"

Carson nodded.

"Did they listen to you?"

Carson shook his head.

"There you go," John said, squeezing the shoulder under his hand. "It was their fault that they didn't listen. You did everything right. There was nothing else you could've done! You did not kill those people; they killed themselves!"

Carson said nothing, but John could see his tired mind working…or trying to, at least.

"Tell me you can see that, Carson. You're too good a man to suffer like this."

Carson closed his eyes for a minute, before reopening them and finally looking at John. The mental anguish reflected in the tear-filled eyes was agony to witness, but John thought he could see a hint of relief.

"Yer right," the doctor whispered. "I know yer right, but it still hurts. I'm a doctor, I'm supposed ta heal, not kill…"

John nodded, sliding his arm around the trembling shoulders. "It'll be all right, doc. Think of the people that the drug did work for; the Wraith can't touch 'em now!"

Carson smiled slightly.

"That's better," John said. He reached for his sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth, before picking up Carson's tray in one hand and forcing the doctor up with the other. "Coff omm," he said, trying to talk around the sandwich. "Ou nee seef."

Carson blinked, his tired mind unable to decipher the words.

John handed the doc his tray and took the sandwich out of his mouth. "I said 'come on, you need sleep'. Take your lunch to your quarters, and sleep."

Carson sighed again, but nodded. Truth was, he knew if he didn't get some serious rest, he'd probably end up a patient in his own infirmary.

John walked with him to the door, where Carson paused. He looked down the right corridor, and then the left, before frowning.

It took a second for John to realize what the problem was. He tried not to laugh, knowing that Carson's exhaustion was the reason for his confusion. "This way, doc," he said, steering his half-asleep friend to the right.

The doctor submitted, and after John finished inhaling his sandwich, he took Carson's tray lest the half-asleep man drop it along the way. It didn't take long to reach the doctor's quarters, and they entered. John brought him over to the bed. "Sit."

Carson obeyed, his eyes more closed than open.

"Eat," John said next, shoving the chicken sandwich in Carson's hands.

The doctor was fading fast, and just held it for a minute before figuring out what he was supposed to do with it. He took a bite and chewed sluggishly. It took a while for him to finish the sandwich, and John wondered more than once if he would drop it or fall asleep before he finished.

Finally, the food was gone, and Carson's eyes closed fully, his body suddenly tilting towards the bed. His head hit the pillow before John could even blink.

John was slightly taken by surprise, and reached out to feel the doctor's pulse, making sure that he was all right. The beat was slow, but steady.

John stood and picked up Carson's legs, placing them on the bed. He hunted around the room for a blanket, and finding one in the closet, draped it over the doctor before turning and heading for the door. Just as he reached it, he heard a voice.

"John?"

Sheppard turned, his eyebrows raised. Carson usually called him 'Major'. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," the sleepy voice said.

"Anytime, doc. Sleep well," John replied. He stepped out the door, and it softly closed behind him.

THE END
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