Part of the 'deadly sins' series. This is a stand-alone story and the previous entry, Lust, doesn't need to be read but naturally I'd be delighted if you did.
Definition:a desire for something someone else possesses.
Disclaimer:sadly I don't own these lovely people apart from the OCs and no-one wants to claim them. No profit is made from these ramblings and this is purely for the amusement of the author and anyone else who finds it mildly entertaining.
Spoilers:Set in series three with some references to 'Common ground'.
Team Sheppard, Carson, Lorne, Elizabeth and with widespread whumpage but, naturally, also to Sheppard, (shock, NO!) 'cos he's my favourite.
All comments, critical or encouraging, are welcome but please remember that I am not a professional writer and that this is just for fun.
ENVY
Chapter One
"I'm sorry, lad, but I cannae just keep on trying. I told ye at the start that the success rate was around 45 percent and against ma better judgement I tried a second time with ye but ye have tae accept that it's nae going tae work."
Rodney McKay walked in to the infirmary clutching his injured hand just in time to hear the tail end of Carson Beckett's conversation with one of the latest grunts to step off the Daedalus. It no doubt was something the bone-head was demanding as only they could and Beckett was trying to fob him off as tactfully as possible.
Well, as tactfully as a sheepherding, kilt-swinging highland voodoo practitioner knew how to.
McKay waggled his uninjured hand as Carson looked in his direction.
"Be with ye in a wee minute, Rodney." He turned back to the man beside him. "Now, son, ye'll just have tae accept that it isnae going tae take, no matter how many times I try. Be content that it did nae harm trying it more than once."
He took the marine firmly by his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the infirmary doors just as they opened to admit Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, military commander of their base.
Sheppard regarded the marine as the man brushed past him with a barely regulation salute before looking at Beckett who stood with his arms akimbo and a frustrated expression on his face.
"Problems, Doc?"
"Och, hello Colonel. Problems? I hope not. Corporal Flynn was just receiving word that the ATA gene therapy didnae take with him in spite of trying twice, and he's nae too happy about it."
He scratched his head making his hair stand up in close resemblance to that of the colonel's.
"I think the lad's going tae take a wee while tae get over this. He seems cross that it failed. I wouldnae be surprised if he's a bit resentful of those who do have it."
"Is it likely to cause trouble?"
"I dinnae know the lad so I cannae say but if he disnae simmer down I'd think he wasnae maybe suited tae being out here. But that's a military decision and I wouldnae dare tae tell ye how tae do your job, unlike some I could mention." He cast a glance at the hovering astrophysicist and John got the idea. "Now, was there something ye needed, Colonel?"
John opened his mouth in response to the question only to have McKay interrupt.
"Excuse me...injured Chief Scientist here," he waggled his bruised finger as he spoke, wincing dramatically. "And correct me if I'm wrong, which of course I'm not, but I do believe I was first!"
John and Carson shared rolled eyes as the doctor turned to examine the offending article which was being thrust under his nose.
"Aye, Rodney, that's going tae need drained."
"What?" Rodney snatched his digit back as if Carson was brandishing pruning shears. "What do you mean drained? I thought you'd just x-ray it to make sure I haven't broken it, and maybe put a splint on it. Perhaps a sling, some extra-strong painkillers and send me on my merry way. Nothing about draining it!"
"Aye, I'll x-ray it first but if I dinnae drain it ye'll lose your fingernail. I'm certain you'd rather not go through the long process of growing another just because of a few seconds of pain."
"Pain!?" McKay's voice reached for the upper stratosphere, a feat that John suspected was in danger of doing him more mischief than his injured finger.
He stepped up to support McKay as he suddenly wobbled on unsteady legs. Rodney wasn't the coward he'd been when he first stepped through the naquadah doughnut three years ago but he still wasn't all that keen on pain, especially when it was inflicted upon his own personage.
"Dinnae be a baby, Rodney, it'll all be over in a wee minute. Now, let's get that x-rayed and I'll get ma equipment ready." Carson beckoned a nurse over. "Carla, be a dear and take Dr McKay and get this hand screened for fracture of his distal phalanx, thanks."
Carla took the still unsteady physicist by the elbow and steered him in the direction of the scanner, a steady whine of protest coming from McKay as his injured finger throbbed with every step he was forced to take.
"I'm in excruciating pain, here. Couldn't you at least have offered me a wheelchair?"
Carson turned back to the man still standing beside him and gave him a quick appraisal.
"Is there anything I can do for ye, Colonel? It's not often you're here without having tae be brought under duress."
John chose not to rise to the bait. He knew he was a reluctant patient at the best of times but he didn't think he was as bad as Carson often painted him.
"Zelenka passed me in the corridor and told me Rodney had injured his hand in the lab so I thought I'd pop in and see what the damage was. What did you mean by draining? His fingernail just looks bruised to me, like any time I've caught mine in the catch of the P90."
"Aye, and I'll bet ye never got it drained and instead put up with days of pain and throbbing, right? Maybe even lost a nail for your troubles?"
Sheppard nodded.
Carson shook his head sadly at the stupidity the world often presented to him.
"If only people would come tae those who know what they're doin', it would be better all round. Walk with me whilst I get ready for Rodney's procedure. It's very basic but extremely effective. By releasing the blood under his nail it relieves the pressure, reduces the throbbing and saves the nail. The medical name for the procedure's a controlled nail trephination for subungual haematoma, but ye dinnae have tae remember that."
John watched in some confusion as Carson produced a small alcohol burner, a lighter and what looked to all intents and purposes like a paper clip.
He was on the point of asking Carson to explain the assorted gadgets when Rodney was led back, protesting every movement of his throbbing digit. Carla reported that his finger was intact.
"No thanks to you," McKay called out ungraciously but Carla was well used to her patient's charming ways and merely grinned before moving off.
Carson steered him to where he wanted him positioned.
"Sit here, lad. Colonel, if you're staying ye can help keep him still. It's important not tae move, Rodney, so just sit there and rest your hand on the trolley."
"What? Aren't you giving me any sedation, or an anaesthetic? What sort of animal husbandry is this? I'll have you know I need this finger, it's a very important part of my very important person."
"And it'll be over afore I could even administer sedation, so let's not have any more whining, Rodney. D'ye see Corporal Mason over there with a broken leg? He didnae make this much noise when he was admitted. Colonel, are ye staying or not?"
John wasn't so sure he wanted to witness the procedure but he could see how worked up his friend was getting so he swallowed his automatic refusal and gave Rodney a reassuring smile.
"Sure, I'll hold him down, Carson, otherwise he's likely to bolt."
"Thanks," Rodney snarled through clenched teeth, but in truth he was glad Sheppard was there.
Not that he didn't trust Carson to know what he was doing, although he'd hesitate to tell him that. After all, a man's ego could only take so much bolstering. But if anything went wrong and his family needed to be contacted, Jeannie and Sheppard had built up a rapport during her visit. It would be small comfort to hear the news of the loss of her dear, clever brother from a friend, but still...
He sat timorously at the designated trolley and laid his hand palm downwards on the trolley but if Sheppard hadn't already placed his hands on his shoulders he would definitely have bolted as he watched Carson straighten the paper clip, light the burner and place the tip of the paper clip into the flame until it turned red hot.
"Just what are you planning, Carson?" he all but whimpered as he watched Beckett's actions.
"I just need to get this red hot and then I'll be ready for ye, Rodney. Now, you're doing just fine. Relax and it'll be over in seconds. Some people go the whole hog and use highfalutin' drills but see this wee paperclip," he held up the now glowing object, "this'll do just fine."
"Drills!?" Rodney shrieked, once again trying to jerk his hand back. "You're not building a patio."
"Dinnae be such a big bairn, and I'm nae going to use a drill. Honestly, just trust me for once." Carson was getting a little exasperated.
"I do trust you," Rodney muttered quietly, but still not happy.
He tried to pull away as the suddenly molten red tip of the implement of torture hovered closer and closer to his throbbing appendage but Sheppard had shifted his grip to Rodney's forearm and was holding him down mercilessly.
"No, no, lemme go!" he shouted a final, desperate act of objecting, but his cries fell on deaf ears.
He'd have to think long and hard on what revenge he'd take on these two sadists as they continued with their torture.
Carson wasted no time, knowing all too well the mettle of the man he was ministering to. He touched the fiery tip to the darkened fingernail and watched with satisfaction as it seared through the keratin and released the dark blood in a sudden spurt.
McKay screamed in pain and fright as he watched the paper clip pierce his fingernail and felt Sheppard's grip tighten in response to his reflexive movement away from the torture.
"Easy, now, nearly finished," he dimly heard but he'd decided he'd been stoic for long enough.
Where was that personal shield when he needed it?
Sheppard caught him as he fainted and Carson tut-tutted as he waved two orderlies over to lift the unconscious man onto a gurney.
Sheppard stepped away from the trolley he'd been holding his friend down onto and took several deep breaths before moving to the gurney.
"Is he okay, Carson?"
"Aye, just a faint. It's quite common and I should have expected it, I suppose. The pain is short and sharp but the relief is worth it." He took a look at the soldier who was looking slightly green about the gills. "Are ye okay, Colonel?"
"Yeah, but the next time I get my finger caught in the P90 just don't expect me to come to you for that!"
"You're a pair of big bairns," Carson chuckled fondly.
It amazed him that this man could take bullets, beatings and assorted bugs/viruses and never moan but something like this had robbed his face of its natural colour.
McKay moaned and tossed his head slightly as he recovered his senses. He blinked several times and found Carson and Sheppard grinning down at him.
"What happened?" he demanded.
Carson and John shared a grin before the colonel spoke.
"I guess you fainted, McKay. Again."
TBC – reviews would be lovely.
A.N. When I was in the ER I witnessed this procedure as described many times and it was usually strong builders/workmen who hit the deck as soon as the pain hit, weaker mere women managing to tolerate it much better. Having said that, this mere mortal refused to let anyone do it to her when she rapped her thumb nail with a wooden mallet, and subsequently lost the nail!
Ouch! You have been warned. Visit the ER immediately:D