A/N: Hello all! This is my first story, so please be nice :). Constructive criticism always welcomed. No beta, so forgive any wonky formatting or errors. No specific time frame, so I'll just issue a general warning for all seasons. Rated T for violence/thematic elements only. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Run Rodney!" Colonel John Sheppard yelled, pushing the scientist in front of him. Enemy bullets

whizzed past their heads, causing them to duck into some forest shrubbery. "Oh great," Rodney gasped. "Something else I'm probably allergic to!"

Sheppard stayed quiet, all his energy focused on getting them both back to the gate in one piece. His aching leg begged for attention, but it would have to wait until they were both safe. He hoped Ronon and Teyla had gotten his signal to run before everything hit the fan.

His leg throbbed in cadence with his heartbeat. Sweat dripped into his eyes for seemingly the millionth time, and he wiped a bloody hand across his face. McKay's incessant complaining brought him back into focus. He pulled the scientist behind a large oak-like tree, and clapped a hand over McKay's mouth. "Shut up Rodney! They're probably just following your voice!" he whispered forcefully. Rodney stilled, staring at Sheppard with round eyes. The Colonel remained on alert, listening for sounds of their pursuers. After a moment he dropped his hand from Rodney's mouth, who immediately spit, and acted disgusted. "Do you ever wash your hands?! That was an experience I don't ever want to go through again!"

Sheppard waved a hand absently, saying, "Sorry I don't think about personal hygiene when running for my life McKay." He swayed dizzily as the adrenaline from the escape faded, and that's when Rodney got his first look at John's leg. "For goodness sake Colonel, when were you gonna tell me you were hit?" He grabbed ahold of John's shoulder and eased him to the ground. The Colonel groaned quietly from the effort. He opened one eye to glance at the noisy scientist. "Because Rodney, then you would've gotten fussy, and we had escaping to do."

McKay sputtered in complaint, but realized the Colonel was right. He leaned back on his heels, studying the LSD. "Seems like they've lost our trail for now. But they have certainly placed guards at the gate by now." Sheppard nodded in response, too spent to voice a reply. Rodney knelt down and began digging through his backpack. "Where's that stupid med kit when you need it?!"

John motioned to the front pocket. "Where it always is Rodney." The scientist muttered something that sounded like thanks, and pulled out the small box. It contained painkillers, an Epipen, a large roll of gauze, med tape, scissors, multiple sizes of needle individually packaged, and several other things that Rodney didn't care about. He grabbed the syringe containing morphine, but John stopped him. "No heavy drugs. I need to be clear headed. Give me the Tylenol." Rodney gaped at him. "That will be about as useful as me playing football!"

John chuckled at the thought of that, and even caused McKay to smile. Rodney motioned to the kit. "What do I do first?" Sheppard looked at their supplies. "You're gonna have to sew me up." Rodney gulped loudly. "Uh you sure you want me to do it? I mean I never paid attention to Carson's voodoo classes…" Sheppard held up a hand at the barrage of words.

"Listen McKay, those bullets they used were heavy duty. Splintering kind if I had to guess. That's why we gotta get this bleeding stopped. If we don't, you'll have to carry my carcass home to Atlantis for a nice funeral!"

Rodney grimaced, and proceeded to grab the needle and thread.

Sheppard pointed at the small bottle of rubbing alcohol. "You need to pour that in the wound to clean it. Save some for your hands too." After cleaning his hands thoroughly, Rodney threaded the needle and held it up. "Now what?" he asked hesitantly.

Sheppard picked up the bottle of alcohol and splashed some directly on the bullet hole. Grunting and wheezing in pain, he tossed the bottle down and leaned back against the tree with his eyes tightly shut. Rodney cringed as he had to watch the Colonel in pain. After a moment Sheppard opened his eyes. "That sucked," he said simply. Rodney held up the needle. "Hard part is next. How to I do this?" Sheppard pointed to the ragged edge of the exit wound, above his right kneecap. "Start here, and just pinch the edges together as best you can. We just need to slow the bleeding down, and then Carson can fix me up when we get home."

Rodney cringed and moved closer. Sheppard grabbed a small stick and stuck it between his teeth. He gave McKay a thumbs up, and Rodney plunged the needle in.

~~~SGA~~~

Rodney leaned back with a gasp of relief. He tied off the thread, and tossed the needle aside. Thankfully John had lost consciousness when the "surgery" had begun. He wiped the wound clean with another swab, the wrapped it in the last gauze bandage they had. He sat back in astonishment. He literally had just sewn up a bullet wound. Suddenly he felt nauseous. Turning away from the Colonel he leaned over and lost his lunch. Immediately embarrassed, he quickly buried the offending bile with leaves and dirt. There, now no one would know. He looked around at their little "campsite." He had no idea how long or how cold the nights got on this planet, so he figured that Murphy's Law would come into play at some point. Things usually went wrong on every mission. He took inventory on their remaining supplies, because Sheppard would probably ask when he woke up. One full canteen, 3 Powerbars, and a chocolate bar that was Sheppard's secret, "not so secret from Rodney" snack. Not really enough for a long stay on this godforsaken planet, he thought. But hopefully after Sheppard was rested, they'd have a better shot at reaching the gate in one piece.