Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
AN: This is how it could have ended. Tag to 38 Minutes.
He thinks the nurse's name is Kelly, but it could be Kendra or something equally as original, because he hasn't spent that much time in the infirmary (yet) and he's never been brilliant at remembering names. Also, he's pretty sure every single one of Beckett's nurses looks the same.
He smiles when Elizabeth walks into the room. Some small part of his heart flutters because he's alive and she's there, but he firmly squashes it down. They've been there less than a month and he has much more important things to do than feed an attraction to his boss.
"How are you feeling?" she asks. He sighs; partly in annoyance, and partly in amusement. So far ten people have asked him the same question, and he's pretty sure it'll top out near a hundred when all is said and done.
He replies the way they all expect him to at this point. "Starving." Which he actually is, and he's a little put-out that no one has thought to bring him anything.
Rodney smirks. "He's got quite the hickey, but Carson says he'll be fine. I just really hope this doesn't become a habit of yours or something, because I don't think my blood pressure will take it."
John's not really all that worried about Rodney's pretty much perfect pressure, so he doesn't let the opportunity to antagonize his new team mate slide.
"Sorry McKay," he says in a voice that clearly says he isn't, "but I'm always like this. Got that damn hero complex and everything. Besides, this is just getting old; I mean, I've died four times before."
Rodney goes an interesting shade of pink that John never even knew existed. Elizabeth sends him a warning look, but he figures he's the one in the hospital bed at the moment and that gives him a little leeway for at least another few hours.
"Well, maybe I shouldn't count that one time in Afghanistan when I crashed the chopper. Because, really, I only stopped breathing for about a minute. Wasn't, you know, clinically dead or anything. So, maybe just only three times. Well, four now."
Rodney chokes and then makes an interesting strangled noise as if he's trying to scream and won't let himself.
"Is there any particular reason Rodney looks about ready to...explode?" The accent is unmistakable, and John takes a second to berate himself because he completely forgot there was another door into the room.
Rodney chokes out a sound that could be anything from a swear word in some Eastern European country to a promise of murder at some point in the future. Privately, John thinks it's probably a combination of both.
"Rodney, the Major is fine. Now why don't you calm yourself down lad, before you send that blood pressure of yours through the roof?"
Their resident genius takes a shuddering breath and stomps out of the room. John smiles in satisfaction until Beckett turns to glance at him sharply.
"You're really not helping things, lad. He was pretty damn terrified back in the jumper, and you dying and all didn't ease things much. We were all bloody terrified for a few minutes there. You best not be making a habit of it." John makes a face that looks perfectly admonished, but from the look Ford is throwing him, the kid at least doesn't buy it.
Beckett fiddles with the IV line, even though there's nothing wrong with it, and Ford takes that as a cue to leave. Teyla backs out with him, and John thinks that deserting him to the mercies of Beckett and Elizabeth is a rather cruel thing to do right after he's been, you know, dead.
"We're just glad to have you back with us," Elizabeth says, and awkwardly pats his foot. He gives her a winning smile, and that seems enough satisfy her that everything is alright. Unfortunately, it also means it's alright to leave.
"Major," Beckett starts, and John's pretty sure he's about to get read the riot act. He only half thinks he deserves it, because really, it's not like he asked the bug to latch itself on to his neck. "In the future, I'd appreciate it if you're a bit more cautious about what you say to Rodney. He doesn't take these sorts of things well."
"Sorry, Doc."
"Aye, well, I'd also appreciate it if you'd be a bit more cautious about where you're running in the future as well."
They both know it's a pointless declaration. They probably haven't even gotten to the top of the proverbial barrel yet, and no one knows what the future will bring. This won't be the last time he's the one lying in the infirmary. But he also knows that what Beckett is really saying is that he hopes there will be many, many more chances for John to actually be around to be the one lying in the infirmary.
So John just nods, because it's what he's supposed to do. "Thanks, Doc," he says, and really means it.
"Aye, well, that's what I'm here for. Just don't go taking that for granted now. You best be getting some rest, lad."
It's only after Beckett has left that John realizes that no one has brought him food.