Difficult Choices.

This was inspired by a wonderful vid Kodiak gave me a link to, showing how wonderful Carson is, and how he can't save everyone. Thanks to Kodiak for the swift beta!

Difficult Choices.

Carson looked up in horror as two more marines were wheeled into his infirmary. That made eight. Eight injured soldiers in the last four hours, plus Teyla and Rodney. A weary and bloody Colonel Sheppard, his face tight with pain, pale and sweaty from obvious exhaustion and stress, accompanied the latest two soldiers into the large room.

"That's the last of 'em Doc," Sheppard said gruffly, his breaths coming in short pants. "Any news on the other marines that were brought in?"

Carson shook his head as he gave a cursory examination to the man in front of him, while Dr. Lambert took over the care of Captain Reynolds, a pretty young girl who'd only been shipped in from the Daedalus the previous month.

"There was nothing I could bloody-well do for any of them, Colonel," he replied angrily. "They all died."

Carson looked down at his patient and closed his eyes. After several seconds he gathered himself together and covered the young man over with a blood soaked sheet, and uncharacteristically rounded on Sheppard.

"That's another one gone. Sometimes I don't know how you live with yourself, Colonel," he hissed. "Sending out your men to die like that."

Carson ripped off his soiled surgical gloves and threw them on top of the gurney.

"Sometimes I hate this bloody place, and sometimes I hate the military. Seven are dead so far Colonel, Rodney and Teyla are injured, Reynolds too. I hope you're happy?"

Sheppard stood there, his head bowed, looking at the floor.

"No. I'm not happy. There was nothing we could do. I underestimated what we'd come up against. They had Genii weapons we didn't know about and we weren't expecting that sort of resistance. Our intel was wrong. It was a trap, and I fell for it."

Carson's anger grew as he studied the man in front of him.

"I suppose that makes everything alright, does it? You military lot go out itching for a fight, and all you bring me back are corpses."

Carson knew he wasn't being fair, it wasn't Sheppard's fault. The futility of the situation was hard to take, and the colonel was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was bearing the brunt of Carson's anger and pain.

Sheppard's eyes grew cold on hearing the doctor's words.

"Believe me, if I could turn back the clock, I would. If I could swap my life for one of theirs…I'd do it…"

Sheppard's voice trailed off, as he grunted in pain.

"I'm sorry, John. That wasn't fair of me…I didn't mean it. I…I'm just not used to losing so many men unexpectedly, and so violently."

Carson's words were stuttered and laced with regret.

"S'okay, Carson. I know you didn't…Go take care of Reynolds, maybe you can save her." Sheppard voice was placating, trying to ease the doctor's obvious distress, but Carson didn't miss the pain in the soldier's eyes.

Carson smiled wearily.

"We're going to give it our best shot, but let me have a look at you first. Dr. Lambert is taking care of her for now."

Carson looked at Sheppard to assess if he was injured, but the colonel waved away the concerned doctor.

"I'm fine. Go take care of Reynolds. I need to speak to Elizabeth and I'll come back when it's a little quieter in here." Sheppard paused and looked around the infirmary. "Elizabeth said Rodney and Teyla are fine?"

Carson nodded and pointed to a quieter end of the infirmary.

"They're over there. Both had nasty wounds; Rodney a knife wound to the arm, Teyla a through and through to the shin. They've both been sutured and are sleeping. Ronon's in his quarters taking a shower. He was covered in blood, and bruises, so I sent him away to get cleaned up and rest," he informed Sheppard gently.

"Dr. Beckett?" Lambert's voice interrupted Carson. "I could use a little help here."

Carson looked over towards the gurney where the doctor was struggling with his patient.

"Go, Doc. Save her," Sheppard entreated.

Carson nodded slowly, and watched as Sheppard walked unsteadily away.

As he rushed over to help with an obviously distraught Reynolds, Carson allowed himself to think back to a few hours previously, to the men they had lost – he had lost.

The first two marines to be rushed to him from the Jumper Bay were beyond help, he'd known that the instant he'd checked their horrific wounds. Quite simply there was too much damage, and death was inevitable. He and his staff had made them comfortable and helplessly watched them die.

Death was something Carson was used to, especially since coming to the Pegasus Galaxy, yet something about this incident was different – more violent, more disturbing.

Carson and his team had treated many casualties following their first siege against the wraith; some had died, some had been seriously injured and were sent back to Earth, a lot more had minor injuries. Many had cuts, burns, blast injuries –the usual injuries Carson had to deal with on Atlantis. He was used to this, it was his job. So why was he finding it so hard to cope now? He asked himself.

Todays wounded were different.

Carson knew everything had 'gone to hell' as Colonel Sheppard so eloquently liked to put it, just fifteen minutes before the 'gate had activated bringing in the first of the serious casualties. The colonel had warned Elizabeth and she in turn had alerted Carson that they had at least six men down, and were still taking serious fire. Carson knew that meant a lot more men and women would be coming in and needing the care of his team.

The next two marines to arrive didn't even need Carson's ministrations – they were obviously dead; one having had half of his head blown away, the other lying on the gurney with his lifeless eyes wide open. Rodney had returned with those two, and Carson had quickly determined that the physicist needed treatment for a nasty wound to his left arm. Unusually, Rodney hadn't complained once, not when Carson had asked him if he was injured, not when Carson had forced him to lie on a gurney, and not even when Carson had injected local anaesthetic and begun to clean and suture the deep gash.

Rodney had been silent, and Carson knew a silent Rodney was a rare and extremely worrying thing.

On talking to the obviously shocked scientist, Carson had discovered that the rescue mission to save Lt. Marks' team had ended disastrously, with all of the captured team being executed before Sheppard's team, and the marines he'd brought along with them, could get anywhere near to them. The ensuing battle had seen the 'hostiles', as Rodney called them - and the use of that word had Carson absent-mindedly thinking that perhaps Rodney had been spending a little too much time around the colonel -being eventually subdued. The dead bodies of the missing Atlantis team had been retrieved, but not without cost to both Sheppard's team and his men. The gullible natives, doing the bidding of the devious Genii, had caught them off guard, and it had been a miracle any of them had got out, let alone retrieved their comrade's bodies and dealt with the locals.

Ronon and Teyla had returned next with two more marines. Carson and Biro had fought desperately to save them both, with Lambert caring for the injured Teyla. Smith had been the first to be taken into surgery, being deemed the patient most likely to survive -- that had been Carson's difficult decision. He'd died on the operating table, after Carson had tried everything possible to resuscitate him. Jordan had followed his team-mate swiftly into the afterlife, as Carson had found out when Biro had called time just when he'd returned to the infirmary. Carson had uncharacteristically doubted himself, and wondered if he'd chosen the right patient to try and save.

Dr. Lambert had taken good care of Teyla, and when Carson approached him he'd explained that the Athosian needed surgery to suture her leg, but that her life wasn't in danger.

Carson had inwardly sighed in relief; finally a patient he could save.

As he looked down at Reynolds, he sighed. She'd sustained a gunshot wound to her right side, and Carson grimaced as he lifted the dressing to study the damage.

"Right. I'll go scrub in again. We'll have a battle with this one, but I think we have a chance, at least," he quietly informed Lambert.

As he was walking away, Carson's attention was drawn to a commotion outside of his infirmary.

"Oh, thank God, you're here," Elizabeth's out of breath voice was distressed. "I was on my way here, when I found John, collapsed outside in the corridor. He looks in a bad way, Carson."

The doctor momentarily forgot his previous destination and followed Elizabeth through the doors.

"I don't understand it. I was just talking to him," he mumbled in confusion.

As Carson approached the unconscious man, he sighed as he noticed the drips of blood on the pale floor.

"Oh, Christ!" he swore under his breath. "Stupid damn fool. He knew he was injured, why on Earth didn't he tell me?" Carson questioned as he felt for Sheppard's pulse.

"Elizabeth. Go tell one of my nurses to bring a gurney here quickly, and tell Dr. Lambert we have another patient for surgery," he ordered, as he turned back to his patient and unzipped Sheppard's tac vest and jacket, before lifting the torn and bloodied black t-shirt plastered to Sheppard's skin.

Once in the infirmary, Carson and his nurses got to work, quickly and efficiently inserting IV's, pressing dressings into Sheppard chest wound, and placing oxygen over the pale man's face.

Once Carson was satisfied his patient was momentarily stabilised, he sought Lambert and Biro.

"We have two patients, both critical, both needing immediate surgery, and one surgical suite," he said calmly. "My feeling is Colonel Sheppard should be taken in immediately. Not only does he have the best chance of survival, but he's the senior officer here. He's also a stubborn bugger, and'll fight to get through this. Anybody disagree?"

Both Lambert and Biro nodded.

"You take Helen and take care of Sheppard. I'll see if I can keep Reynolds alive out here. Sarah and Alison can help. I'll open her up and see if we can do anything, though it looks pretty hopeless anyway," Lambert answered honestly.

Carson nodded, and he and Biro walked away briskly, knowing they had a fight on their hands.

-oOo-

Ten hours later and an exhausted Carson sat down on the chair by the side of Sheppard's bed. It had been touch and go, but, yet again, the cantankerous colonel had survived. It had been a close call. The bullet had shattered two ribs and was firmly embedded in Sheppard's thorax when they'd gone in. The bullet had caused some nasty vascular damage, and the colonel was slowly bleeding to death. If Carson hadn't have operated when he had…How the man had walked and talked was beyond him.

Sighing, he checked the monitors again, adjusting the flow of blood running into an IV in Sheppard's right arm.

"Doc?" Carson looked up as he heard the soft whisper from underneath the oxygen mask.

"Hello, Colonel. Didn't expect you to be waking up so soon. How's your pain?" Carson asked quietly.

"I'm good," Sheppard mumbled. "Reynolds?" he ground out.

Carson smiled grimly.

"Over there. She's holding her own. Takes after you; bit of a fighter," Carson answered affectionately.

"Good," Sheppard croaked. "Didn't…couldn't…lose…anym're…"

Carson exhaled and picked up the syringe he'd prepared earlier. Injecting the contents into a port in the cannula in Sheppard's left hand, where an IV of clear fluid ran into the injured man, he shook his head wearily, and looked down at his injured friend, nodding in agreement at his patient's slurred words.

"Aye. You're not wrong. Why didn't you tell me you were so badly injured, you could've died?" Carson asked, frustration evident in his voice.

Sheppard smiled weakly.

"Knew...you'd try…save me. Wanted…Reynolds…to have a…chance…" Sheppard's voice trailed off as the medication finally took effect.

Carson patted his patient's arm.

"You're not wrong, lad. But sometimes things do work out for the best. You both survived, and sometimes you have to make difficult choices. This time I made the right one," he said to himself, as he settled into his chair, getting comfortable for the long night ahead.

The end.