Title: Rest
Summary: After a particularly grueling off-world mission, Carson refuses to follow doctor's orders and a few of his friends take it upon themselves to make sure that he does.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing of SGA, though I wish I had (and Syfy; I wouldn't have cancelled the dang show)
Author's Note: Just a bit of fluff just because. I wanted to write something Carson-centric and this short little ditty is what came out.
Hope you enjoy!
Doctor Carson Beckett walked through the halls of Atlantis, giving random nods and friendly smiles to those he passed. The familiar hum of the city in the back of his mind sang to him. It felt as though she was trying to comfort him or simply express her pleasure at having him back. He'd been off-world for a little over a week and he had to admit that it felt good to be back.
One of the lesser-developed planets had had an earthquake tear through their main town, rendering most of the buildings in shambles and the citizens mostly helpless to assist the sick or injured. Their leader, Marwan, had called to Atlantis via the gate, begging for assistance. Elizabeth had been all too happy to send a team and although wasn't overly fond of going off-world, he had happily elected to lead the medical team for the mission. When it came to situations like this, the Scot knew that there was nothing he wouldn't do to help.
Unfortunately, that had included many nights without much sleep, a lot more coffee than was good for any human being, and eventual hard labor. Whenever there had been a lull in the patients, Carson had found himself helping Sheppard's men dig out others that may need help. Many times, however, he had had to join in the heavy lifting just so he could get to his patients. Needless to say, Carson was now sore in places that he hadn't felt since his time in University.
He entered the infirmary, the place quiet and sterile, and looked about. Most of the beds were empty save the occasional post-operative patient. It seemed that Pegasus had chosen to be nice and had given the explorers a well-deserved break from any life-threatening scenarios for a time. It was good. Those that had aided in the rescue and rebuild needed a break to rest and recover. Of course, Carson didn't necessarily consider himself as one of them and so he walked up to Marie and looked over a few straggling charts.
"Good mornin'," he greeted, offering her as bright a smile as he could manage. He was still quite tired and knew that he could have slept more had he taken the time. But delegation had never been one of his strong suits and he hated leaving the infirmary to others for too long unless it wasn't preventable.
Marie spared a moment to glance at him, her medical eye shrewdly running over him before she returned back to her post-op notes. "Shouldn't you be resting?" she asked, keeping her focus on the paper.
"Probably," Carson relented, knowing that they both knew he should be and so saw no need to deny it. "But since I couldnae sleep anymore I thought I'd drag myself down here to see if you needed any help."
He flipped open another file but she soon snatched it out of his hands and folded the others closer to her so that he would have to reach in a very inappropriate spot in order to get them back.
"We are fine, Carson," she tolerantly said. Now she paused and looked back up at him. "Go get some more rest," she urged, her tone taking on a more friendly - dare he say motherlike - tone. "If we need your help, we will let you know. I promise."
Knowing that it was pointless to argue, Carson sighed and then pivoted. It was then that he came face-to-face with the Colonel and Ronon, both of whom looked bloody and in need of a wee bit of medical attention.
"Hey doc," the Colonel greeted with a half smile. The bruising around his left eye spoke of a sparring match that Ronon had won and his split lip only confirmed it. "I see we're not the only ones not following doctor's orders."
Carson smiled at the jest, knowing full well that it had been his orders that they all rest and that were now being ignored. He understood that both Ronon and John had a restless nature and so he didn't chide them for it.
"I see Ronon got the best of you once again," he returned instead, motioning towards John's face.
"Oh now, I wouldn't say that," the Colonel said with a small smile. He hitched his thumb over his shoulder at the Satedan and said, "I got a couple'a good licks in too."
Now that he had pointed it out, Carson could see a rather deep cut glancing across Ronon's right eyebrow, the blood from which ran just outside of his eye and down his neck. How had he not noticed it before?!
Cursing himself and giving a small shake of his head, Carson pointed towards to empty cots and said, "Let me get m'kit."
The two warriors shared a small smirk and wordlessly made their way in the direction that Carson had pointed. It was a little eery how well they were behaving but Carson figured that they knew the less they protested, the less likely he was to keep them for whatever reason he deemed necessary.
"Do you need a hand?" Marie asked him as he went and grabbed some sterile gloves and suture kit.
"No, I've got it. Thank ye." He gave her another smile, this one more reassuring than his earlier one, and returned to his patients.
He worked diligently and quietly. Despite his inability to sleep, Carson was still feeling the effects of the past week and now that he was working, he didn't really believe he had much energy left for the friendly banter he was known to give. That didn't stop Ronon and the Colonel from participating in it, however, and he listened to them with comfortable indifference.
"You okay doc?"
It took a bit for Carson to notice that the question had been asked, and of him, and when he did finally focus back on his friends, they were watching him with concerned interest. He smiled, appreciating their worry but knowing it wasn't needed.
"I'm fine," he assured and setting down the soiled needle and thread and then stripping off the gloves. He threw them all in the appropriate waste basked and then inspected his handy work. The stitches were small and concise; neatly done and only noticeable if one looked hard enough. The cut hadn't needed many to close it and Carson felt sure that if it hadn't been for John urging the Satedan to come down - for there was no doubt in Carson's mind that was precisely why the Colonel was here - the man would have just let the wound be and heal on its own.
The two men continued to stare at him, their expressions showing they didn't believe him and he sighed. "I'm still a wee bit tired, is all," he added, hoping it would placate them. The last thing he wanted was for John to go to Elizabeth to get her to nag Carson to take the appointed time to rest as he was supposed to be doing.
Although Carson didn't share much in common with Rodney McKay, there was one aspect in which they were extremely similar. Both had trouble letting someone else cover for them. For Rodney it was very much a need to control everything. For Carson, it was more that he simply preferred to be on hand if anything should happen and he didn't necessarily trust his staff to let him know if he was. The other doctors and nurses tended to try and take care of him as they saw fit which often led to them letting him sleep in on a day he was supposed to have been in the infirmary simply because it had been a slow day and he had needed the rest. It was no more than he had done for them many times but as Carson was their boss, he felt it was his job to do that for them and not the other way around.
"Which is why you should probably still be in your quarters and not at work."
Carson sighed as he heard Elizabeth's gentle voice enter the conversation. For a moment he thought that the Colonel had called her in but after believing that the pilot hadn't had time he turned around to briefly glance at Marie who now stood and stared right back at him.
"You need to rest," she offered with a shrug as a form of explanation and looking completely unperturbed that she had ratted out her boss.
"I'm sure that if you hadn't insisted on being so stubborn, she wouldn't have needed to call me," Elizabeth offered, her look challenging him to argue with that.
"I take it yer hear ta shoo me out?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest though he was already resigned at being kicked out of his own infirmary.
Elizabeth smiled. "Something along those lines," she said, her playful nature coming briefly to the fore. "And hey, if all else fails, I'm sure Ronon and John wouldn't mind coming along either."
As Carson wasn't sure if that was a hint that all three of them should have been taking it easy or if it had been a gently disguised warning that the two men could easily force him out of the infirmary, he refrained from answering or triumphantly smiling as he was tempted to do.
"This is unnecessary," he argued even as he was being herded out the doors. Elizabeth kept a firm hand on his arm, at a place where quite the bruise had developed no thanks to part of a roof caving in and he stifled a wince when her grip tightened reflexively with his comment. "I'm perfectly fine."
"And yet I was able to get you out of the infirmary with little to no trouble," Elizabeth returned. Trusting that she would have no further trouble with his cooperation, she released his arm and settled for walking comfortably close to him.
"Besides, you didn't look all that 'fine' as you were stitching up Chewie," John added, surprising Carson whom hadn't really noticed that the two men had followed them. The pilot grinned when he noticed Carson's start and the Scot had a hard time not glowering at the man.
"I'll thank ye not to comment, Colonel," he retorted, unable to help himself since he felt like he was being ganged up on for no reason.
The small group reached his quarters before Carson had even noticed and no sooner had he uttered those words than his door came into view. They paused outside it, doubting that they were welcome and not counting on Carson to invite them in.
"Rest, Carson," Elizabeth gently bid. Her eyes shown with earnest concern and she gently grasped his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "I promise that if there is an emergency, somebody will alert you. But until then, you have been running on nothing but fumes, coffee, and adrenaline for the past four days; you need to relax and get some more sleep."
Behind her, John and Ronon offered him triumphant smirks which instantly faded at her next comment. "And that goes for you two as well."
With a shrug and a nod of 'goodbye' Ronon left, knowing when it was pointless to argue. John remained to glare and attempt to argue only to be met with Elizabeth's unwavering stubbornness. With a frustrated sigh and something bordering on a pout, he too walked away, giving Carson a slap on the back before doing so.
"Now then," Elizabeth said once they had left. "Can I trust you to follow orders or do I need to tuck you in as well?"
Apparently she had deemed him the most problematic of the three and he couldn't help but smile and give a small chuckle.
"I'll be fine," he said, drawing an eyebrow raise of doubt from his friend.
"That's what I've been hearing since I saw you but the bags under your eyes and the complete lack of argument about being essentially ordered to rest says otherwise."
She stepped forward and gave him a hug. "Sleep well, Carson," she bid before walking away at last.
With a smile of fondness and a sigh, Carson entered his quarters. Without even having Atlantis turn the lights on, he collapsed onto his bed. Apparently they had been right - he was still tired.
Still, there wasn't any harm in keeping his comm link in his ear just in case. On Atlantis, you never knew when you would be needed.
FIN