Disclaimer: Yes, still not mine.
AN: This is the story that I kinda promised myself I would never write. I should stop doing that; it never works out anyways.
I realize there are more than one (in fact 3 that I know of) stories on the 'net dealing with the aftermath of Grace Under Pressure, specifically from the idea that that much time under that much pressure is not a good thing and can have dire, even life-threatening consequences. I purposefully steered clear of writing another one of these fics, because I figured it had been done, and done pretty well, and throwing in my two cents worth was a wasted effort for me and anyone who actually read the fic. But since I'm trying to take my mind off of other things right now, my brain of course decided that it would pull out old plot bunnies that I never had any intention of writing. This was one of them.
Enjoy; someone should.
Recompression
The door of the jumper closed in front of him, cutting off the sight of Sam Carter leaning casually against the rear of the other jumper. He stood still for a moment, simply in shock that he was safe and not drowning beneath the crushing waves and that he had been found.
It didn't last long. The cold crept back first, then the pounding in his head and before he realized it he was on the floor of the jumper and Radek was kneeling in front of him and asking him questions that his mind wasn't processing.
"Rodney! Rodney! I detected pressure change in other jumper. Did you change pressure? Rodney, I must know!"
"Yes, yes," he managed to get out. He was shaking now from the shock and cold.
"How much?"
"Um…possibly 4 atmospheres?" He really couldn't remember. But it had been enough, whatever it was.
Zelenka swore colourfully in his native tongue and Rodney wondered vaguely what he was saying. "How long?"
But Rodney was slipping and Radek had to shake him to get him to answer. "Forty minutes? Maybe more."
He missed the flash of terrified concern that crossed the other scientist's features. He was vaguely aware of Radek making noise around him, and then felt a mask pressed over his face. He breathed instinctively, his body eagerly accepting the pure oxygen. Radek was draping a blanket around his shoulders and talking to John at the same time. Rodney couldn't understand a word of it.
"He was under too much pressure for too long. It is likely he suffers from dive sickness. We must return to the city quickly."
"You mean the bends? How bad is it?"
"It is very bad." Radek felt the jumper tilt slightly as John took off quickly. "Radio the city as soon as possible. Beckett must know. He will need recompression."
"Yes, yes!" Was all he got in reply and Radek decided to leave the pilot to it.
"Hold on Rodney," he said as he knelt down beside him once more. "We will be back soon. Carson will care for you."
Rodney just continued to shiver uncontrollably as he clutched the oxygen mask to his face.
They were waiting in the jumper bay when John touched down. He was already slamming his hand down on the control to open the back hatch as he rose from his seat.
"Colonel, Radek," was the extent of Carson's greeting as he turned his attention to Rodney. "What have you done to yourself now, lad?" His eyes darkened when Rodney didn't respond.
"I need you both out," the doctor jerked a finger into the bay behind him. "We need to start recompression immediately, and there's no point in the two of you being stuck in here for the next few hours."
John looked about ready to protest, but obviously thought better of it. He walked out to join Elizabeth nearby and Radek unwillingly followed.
The medical team was already dumping equipment in the back of the jumper and one the nurses joined Beckett as he knelt beside Rodney.
"Radek!" Carson called.
"Yes?" The scientist quickly returned to the back of the jumper.
"Can I pressurize this bloody thing myself?"
"Yes, yes. Like any part of jumper, pressure can be mentally controlled from cockpit."
Carson nodded, already up and headed for the front of the ship. The rear door slid shut a moment later, obscuring the view.
John was moving, running around to the front of the jumper to look in the window. Carson looked up from the front seat, worried eyes meeting John's and then his expression changed. He gave the Colonel a small smile and a nod and then returned to concentrating on the ship's controls.
John couldn't tell whether he was successful or not until Carson lifted his hands away from the console and used one to equalize his ears. He gave John a slightly wider smile, looking at least partly relieved and then returned to the back to care for Rodney.
"Radek" Carson's voiced crackled slightly over the comm.
"Yes?" the Czech answered.
"Do you think three atmospheres will be enough?"
Radek seemed to consider this for a moment. "Yes, should be. For one hour. Then two atmospheres; then one. Each hour, yes?"
"Understood."
John gave Radek a confused look. The scientist smiled. "My brother, he is a diver. He took me many times. He does dangerous diving; would always tell me stories of things that go wrong. He has been in recompression chamber many times."
"Ah," John replied.
"How long do I have to stay in this bloody thing, Carson?! I want out."
"You cannae leave, Rodney. We'll be a few hours at least. Now stop talking and concentrate on breathing!"
"Carson?"
The Scot sighed and glanced at his watch. Had it only been ten minutes? "What it is, Rodney?"
"I'm hungry."
"Aye, Rodney." Carson searched through the nearest pack and managed to scrounge up a power bar. "Here."
Two moments of blissful silence wasn't nearly long enough.
"Carson?"
"Yes, Rodney?"
"How much longer?"
Carson heaved a deep sigh and decided to ignore the scientist.
"He's doing fine, Colonel, but we'll be a while yet."
"Yeah, okay. He driving you nuts yet?"
"I'm afraid that happened a long time ago, Colonel. Beckett out."
"Carson?"
He debated not answering. The nurse sent him a sympathetic look from where she was sitting in the back corner.
"Carson!"
"Yes, Rodney?"
"My head is pounding; can't you dig something out of that bag of voodoo tricks and get it to stop?"
"Rodney, you've got a concussion, how many times have we been over this?"
Rodney just looked at him. The glare was somewhat softened by the fact his hair was still wet, one side of his face was still partly smeared with blood, and the oxygen mask obscured the harsh line of his mouth.
Carson sighed and started counting the seconds on his watch.
"Please?"
"No, Rodney. The Tylenol will have to do. I'm not going to risk anything else until you've been properly examined in the infirmary."
Silence.
"I hate you."
"Aye," was all he could think to say.
"Just kill me, please. Dying can't be any worse than this, and hey, maybe I'll ascend."
The thought was tempting, to say the least. "Dying would be much worse, you daft bugger. I know you aren't feeling so good right now Rodney, but please try to rest."
"I thought someone with a concussion wasn't supposed to sleep?"
"I said rest, not sleep, and it's not that bad a concussion, and you aren't going to fall into a coma if you close your bloody eyes for a minute. Your body's been through a shock, so try to relax. Please." The last was almost begging, but Carson didn't really care anymore.
"Fine."
It lasted ten minutes. Just as Carson was decreasing the pressure to two atmospheres.
"That's making my headache worse, you know."
"It'll pass, Rodney. Try equalizing your ears." At least the genius could follow some orders.
"How much longer?"
"Another two hours."
"Carson…."
"Another two hours, and not a bloody moment sooner!" He raised his voice higher than he intended to and gave the nurse an apologetic look when she flinched.
"How –"
"Stop asking."
"How did you know what I was going to ask?"
"Lucky guess."
"Your bedside manner sucks, Carson."
"Only around you," the Scot shot back.
Rodney just harrumphed.
"Pressurizing to one atmosphere," Carson radioed over the comm.
"Thank god," was all Rodney said.
Carson deigned not to answer him.
"I want a shower. A nice scalding hot shower."
"You can settle for a bath with one of the nurses helping you."
Rodney glared at him again.
"Have you not figured out by now, Rodney, that I'm impervious to that look of yours?"
The look didn't change.
Carson checked the scientist's vitals again.
Carson glanced at his watch. Three hours had passed; Rodney was stable and no longer complaining of being in 'agonizing pain'. Good enough for Carson.
He stood, reaching for the door release.
"Finally," Rodney said.
Carson sighed heavily and was still looking like he'd just come from the front lines of a war zone when the hatch settled down. He caught Elizabeth's look of sympathy as he let his med team get Rodney up and onto the gurney and wheel him from the jumper bay. He gave the team a tired smile as he followed.
As soon as Rodney was settled, Carson thought it was high time he delved into that bottle of Drambuie in his office he'd managed to secret back on the Daedalus. He'd never deserved it more.
John had paced for most of the three hours, despite the radio updates Carson was giving them every fifteen minutes or so. Rodney seemed to be doing well, and they'd gotten the onset of hypothermia under control and the concussion wasn't that bad. John wasn't worried about either of those; he'd had a friend years before who had nearly died from DCS because he'd been late getting it treated. John couldn't suppress the nagging fear in his chest that had surfaced since they'd found Rodney.
Elizabeth asked him once to stop and sit down, and he ignored her. Besides, Ronon was doing the same thing so John felt he had good reason. Neither of them had ever been good at the waiting thing. Even if Elizabeth and Teyla seemed content to wait patiently, sitting side by side on the gurney Carson had brought down originally. Radek had disappeared some time ago and returned with food. John hadn't been able to eat any of it, but he'd understood why Radek had done it. He doubted the Czech liked waiting either.
The sound of the rear hatch opening was so unexpected that John stumbled mid-pace and barely caught his balance before he fell flat on some part of his body not meant to be touching the floor.
Carson stepped out, motioning the rest of his medical team, which had patiently stood by the whole time to come and get Rodney onto the gurney.
All John cared about was the fact that Carson looked as if he'd just survived an epic battle with the enemy; outnumber and outgunned, but had emerged victorious nonetheless.
"Aye, he'll be fine. Be stuck in the infirmary for a few days as a precaution, but the annoying bugger will be back to his old self in no time." A look almost akin to fear flashed across Carson's face so quickly John barely caught it. "God help us all."
He smiled tiredly at them all and then followed the disappearing med team out of the bay.
John met Elizabeth's eyes and returned her relieved smile. "Only Rodney," she said.
"Yeah," John grinned at her. "Only McKay."