NOTES: Written for the sgrarepairings ficathon as a backup. The requestor wanted 'Carson/Rodney: first time, hurt/comfort, offworld'.
Effective
Carson thinks this would be easier if Rodney had the broken leg.
Of course, if Rodney had the broken leg, there'd be a lot more complaining happening.
He diagnoses the injury himself, ignoring the pain as best he can as he gently probes around the break. The flesh has swollen up and there's probably some impressive bruising, but it seems like a simple fracture, even if it's a near-constant ache beneath his skin that flares up in panting gasps as his fingers move across the material of his fatigue trousers.
"So?" Rodney's crouched beside him, one hand hovering over Carson's good leg, unwontedly anxious. "How bad is it?"
"Wait a minute, I'll let you know." Fine beads of sweat dot Carson's brow as he inhales and exhales in careful measures. He appreciates Rodney's concern - one learns to take the astrophysicist as he comes - but he doesn't need the interruption or the distraction right now. His mind's dealing with enough right now, though - both the aching pain of the break and working through how he's going to deal with the leg.
"Can I do anything in the meantime?"
Carson's a little surprised: offers of assistance from Rodney aren't usual. He feels a warm glow in his belly at the knowledge that he matters to the other man, but rejects the offer. "Not now, Rodney." Then he rethinks. If he gets Rodney out of the way, he'll have a bit of peace in which to assess the situation. And there are things he needs to fix himself up enough to be even vaguely mobile. "Look for any trouble. And a big stick. Two big sticks. Straight ones." He has only the most basic of his equipment - swabs, injections, bandages - nothing with which to use as a splint.
"Sticks? What do you need sticks for?"
"To beat you over the head with until you're quiet."
Rodney glares at him, but takes the hint. Surprisingly, he doesn't have a quick comeback or a retort, and Carson manages a brief smile to himself, in spite of pain, leg, and situation. There's no situation so dire it can't be brightened with a little judicious prodding of Rodney.
Not that they're in dire straits, but Carson's not going to be moving anywhere without help for a while, and certainly not if his leg isn't stabilised. It would be asking for trouble - torn blood vessels, damaged nerve endings, stretched ligaments...
Bandages. He needs bandages. And a splint - which Rodney's getting. Painkillers for once the splint is done. He can't take the painkillers until he's got the leg bound, because he needs to be able to tell Rodney what to do and to feel what's happening as it's done. This time, he's both doctor and patient.
When Rodney returns, requested sticks in hand, Carson has the things he needs out of his pack. It's not much, but with some careful binding, it should hold everything together until they reach help.
"I found a couple of sticks," says Rodney, an unnecessary statement since Carson can see them plainly enough. They're not quite straight but they're fairly close. "And I tried to call Sheppard. I think the electromagnetic field on this planet is interrupting our radio signals - it seems to happen a lot out here in Pegasus. I should set Reynolds to looking at that problem and finding a solution for it since it seems happens so often in Pegasus."
"Rodney."
At least the other man's looking for a way out of their technical situation - which, as Carson understands it, is stuck on a planet with significant EM interference which will interfere with both attempts to contact the 'jumper and any search attempts that might be made in the pain-filled future.
Rodney grimaces as he kneels down beside Carson. "You know that I've never done this before, right?"
Carson's never done this before either - not on himself. "Just think, after this, you'll have a new skill." It's not the best levity he's used to get someone's mind off what's about to happen - but then, he's usually the doctor reassuring the patient, not the patient reassuring the doctor.
It's not a pleasant experience.
There's a little moving to be done, mostly getting his leg and the sticks into place, and binding the limb to the splints, either side. What is painless and easy when his leg is whole is agony when it's broken. The beads of sweat have formed into pearls and the pearls into droplets that trail down Carson's face by the time they finish binding the leg to the splint. He doesn't like to contemplate how much it would have hurt if it had anything more than a simple break.
Rodney's rummaging in his pack when Carson fastens the last bandage at the top of his thigh and lets out a last, shaky breath. Then he jerks a little as something white intrudes into his vision.
"Hey! Hey! It's okay!" Rodney's hand is on his shoulder and a cloth swipes cool and tender across his cheeks and brow. "Just me." The cloth dabs again. "Just me."
He lets go of the breath he didn't even know he was holding, and laughs shakily. "Rodney McKay, nursemaid," he manages. He suspects his smile is a little indulgent, but Rodney doesn't seem to notice.
"Well, I always thought I'd look good in one of those nurse outfits."
Carson smiles in spite of himself. "Very fetching, Rodney. I'm sure we can dig one up when we get back to Atlantis."
"Yeah. Not so sure where we'd find stockings, though."
"High heels?"
"Ah, well, you're out of luck there. I left them all back on Earth. There were this really great pair with rhinestones set in the heels..."
Hysterical laughter bubbles up in his throat. Pain is making him light-headed and between that and the thought of Rodney McKay, nursemaid, and cross-dresser extraordinaire, Carson isn't capable of holding back a thin chuckle - one that sounds a little more like a giggle than a laugh. And once it escapes him, he can't seem to stop it.
"Carson?" Beside him, Rodney's half-smiling, half-worried with the expression that people get when someone's done something unexpected and they're not sure if it's a joke or if they should be worried. "Carson!"
Clinically, Carson knows it's a reaction to their situation. There are excess endorphins in the blood, and the stress of being both doctor and patient has upset his usual balance. But knowing all this is very different to being able to stop it.
Even the faint twinges of pain from his leg fail to stop his laughter, and the worry-lines on Rodney's face crease deep in his forehead as his face fills Carson's vision.
His hysteria is cut off.
Rodney's lips are surprisingly firm against his, but without the desperate edge Carson remembers from last time. Of course, that was Laura rather than Rodney, and at the time, she believed she was going to die. Carson's pretty sure that neither he nor Rodney are about to die, so there's no desperate edge.
But if this is the first time Rodney's kissed him - that is, the first time Rodney's kissed him as Rodney - then it's strange that Carson remembers the feel and shape of the mouth pressed against his, sliding across his lip in a coaxing caress.
He liked kissing Laura - once she was out of Rodney's body, of course. She had an innocence beneath her boldness, a wry sense of laughter under the tough marine exterior. But her mouth was smaller, her lips more delicate than Carson's first memory of a kiss from her.
Rodney's more tentative, as if he's uncertain he wants to do this, or if Carson wants him to do this. But he's doing it anyway, and - from Carson's perspective - it's a bloody good kiss. When Rodney pulls away, both their cheeks are brilliant with flushes.
"It stopped you laughing," says the other man by way of explanation.
Carson bites back a smile at the attempt at nonchalance. "Yes. It did." They sit silent for a long moment.
He should feel different after Rodney's kissed him. Uncomfortable, perhaps. But, even through the painkiller-dimmed throbbing in his leg, he's got a warmish feeling low in his belly. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. "I'll have to remember that next time," he says lightly.
The expression on Rodney's face is somewhere between eager and concerned. "Next time?"
"Next time I have a hysterical patient on my hands."
"Oh." Rodney deflates in a way that Carson's always found endearing. The man pushes people away with one hand and then wonders why he's lonely. "Yeah. The McKay way of getting people to shut up."
"It's quite effective." It would also land him with a bunch of sexual harassment lawsuits if he was serious.
The other man fidgets. "Yes, well. Effectiveness is my middle name, you know. Rodney Effectiveness McKay." He pauses. "Maybe I could put together some kind of a booster signal to get through the EM field. They have limited use - the power output's not worth it, actually, but since you're injured and we probably don't want to be moving you about anywhere in a hurry..."
Rodney's babbling again. Useful babbling, perhaps - babbling that will get them out of here - but still babbling.
Carson rolls his eyes and uses the McKay way to get Rodney to shut up.
It's very effective.
- fin -
NOTES: I couldn't manage sex. My gut instinct tells me that out in the field with an injury is neither time nor place to have any kind of sex. I'm sorry about that omission, I just couldn't write it.