Genre: Hurt/comfort and humor

Prompt: This is a fic challenge. Anything you want to write ... with Shep ... preferably whump of course. What's the challenge? It must be at least 26 sentences and each sentence must start with a different letter of the alphabet. You can make it longer by repeating the alphabet. I'll be nice and let you mix up the letters but bonus points if you can keep it in alphabetical order.

All carson could do was shake his head as his most frequent patient shuffled into the infirmary.

Both John and Ronon had sheepish looks on there faces, however John was also sporting a large bruise on the left side of his face, and he was holding his arm at an awkward angle.

Carson noticed that Ronon looked particularly pleased with himself, while John was looking rather embarassed.

"Don't you two ever get tired of sparring?" He asked in exasperation.

"Every time you do it I have to fix up Colonel Sheppard, surely you can find other ways to amuse yourselves!"

"For your information, I don't always lose our sparring matches," John said, apparently unwilling to have his ego bruised as well as his face, "Anyway, we weren't sparring."

"Good," Carson replied, "Then you won't mind telling me what you were doing?"

"He tried to ride his surfbourd down the stairs," Ronon chimed in helpfully, grinning all the while as John glared daggers at him, "It didn't go so well."

"It was a bet!" John protested, "Ronon bet me a bottle of Zelenka's moonshine that I couldn't make it down the stairs without falling off."

John sighed, "I suppose he was right, I came off halfway down and landed funny."

"Kind of hurts to move," He continued, "I sorta bounced down the stairs and banged my arm, I might have done something to my ribs as well, and I kinda hit my head at the bottom."

Looking him over, Carson had to say he a bit astounded at how much trouble John could get himself into even when there weren't wraith or genii or general pegasus bad guys around to help him.

"Marvelous, you managed to do all that to yourself without even leaving the base," Carson said dryly, "Alright, let's get you onto the scanner."

Not willing to give either Carson or Ronon any more excuses to laugh at him, John walked towards the scanner.

Observing him as he moved, Carson noticed that he seemed to be limping a bit, and he knew that John was probably trying to hide the fact that he was in pain, again.

Pushing the button on the machine, Carson started the scan, watching as the images began to come up on screen, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the damage.

"Quite a fall you took lad," He clucked, "You've broken a rib and cracked two others, you've got a nasty sprain on you ankle, and you've torn a muscle in your arm."

"Right," John said, trying on the puppy dog eyes again, "So you can wrap me up in some bandages and I can go, right?"

Shaking his head at John's obvious attempts to escape the dreaded infirmary, Carson decided that it was about time for John to learn why you didn't cross a doctor.

There wasn't much happening around Atlantis at the moment, relatively speaking, and Carson knew that if he let ohn out of his sight he would just find some other way to injure himself.

"Unfortunately I think you'll be spending a little more time in here lad," Carson said with mock regrett, "It will take a while to get you all wrapped up, then I wan't you under observation for at least a night, after all, you did take a knock to the head"

"Vital signs will need to be monintored, and while I've got you in here, I might as well run a few more tests, just to be sure theres nothing else wrong with you despite the obvious lack of good sense."

"When can I get out of here then?" John asked, whining just a little, he hated staying in the infirmary.

"X-Rays, blood tests, a few more scans," Carson continued, grinning a little "I've got enough tests to keep you here as long as I need to Colonel."

"You've only yourself to blame," he chided as John looked like he was about to protest, "Maybe I'll let you go sometime this week if you promise not to do anything stupid."

"Zelenka's brew might be good," John grumbled as Carson walked away smiling, "But remind me not to make any more bets with you Ronon."