Dawn Musings
A/N – I've been back on my night shifts again, which always seems to put me in the mood to write. This little plot bunny jumped into my mind as I sat with a cup of tea watching the sun rise on a beautiful (but freezing!) frosty morning. This is my first foray into SGA fandom, so please R&R? No particular series and no spoilers.
I don't own Stargate Atlantis... if I did, it wouldn't be cancelled. Am only borrowing everyone for a little while... honest!
-x-x-x-x-
Carson leaned over the railing on one of the balconies next to the infirmary and sighed. He breathed in the cool pre-dawn air and watched the first rays of the sun creep over the horizon to stain the sky a delicate pink colour.
He curled his fingers around the steaming hot cup of... something.... one of his nurses had poured out for him. It wasn't the same as the tea he used to drink back home, but it would have to do. He sipped gently, and then took a larger gulp as he realised that the drink was cooling quickly in the early morning air.
He tried to concentrate on the scene before him, as he turned away from the steadily lightening sky to take in Atlantis in all her glory. Her tall towers reached up into the sky and one of the planet's moons was setting out over the east pier, its glow dulled by the bright lights that burned from the city. As he watched, the pink glow spread across the sky and Atlantis's lights began to wink out in response to the oncoming dawn.
Catching sight of movement at the end of the corridor, he waved his hand over the door sensor and strode down the corridor gulping down the dregs of his drink and mentally preparing himself to head back into the fray. He had barely made it into the infirmary itself when a small figure stepped into his path. The raised eyebrow, crossed arms and steady glare of his senior nurse bought him to a sudden halt. He had been up all night dealing with a trauma and the nurses had finally persuaded him to accept a cup of almost-(but not quite)-tea and to take a quick break outside. He had promised not to return for at least ten minutes... even though he'd had no intention of keeping the promise. A lot could happen in ten minutes and whilst he knew his staff were experts, and more than capable of calling him if something happened – it wasn't the same as being there yourself.
"And where do you think you're going?"
He grinned sheepishly at the nurse and desperately trawled his mind for an excuse for returning too early.
"The linen store for a blanket love, it's a mite chilly out there at this time in the morning"
Her snort in reply made him think that perhaps she hadn't believed him. Taking a good look at him, she turned and swiftly walked around the corner. Taking advantage of this, he quickly headed towards the high dependency area of the infirmary. If he took a quick look at the numbers on the monitors, then he could rest a little easier for another couple of minutes. He nodded to the nurse on duty and swiftly checked the screens attached to his patients, sheepishly realising that everything was exactly the same as he'd left it several minutes before. He was starting to check the lines when the slim body of his senior staff nurse slipped in between him and his patient. He sighed as he felt himself being turned around and pushed towards the door leading to the balcony. He turned, meaning to argue that he hadn't checked all of the lines and sensors but a couple of soft Athosian blankets were thrust into his hands and he was once again turned around and thrust out towards the dawn.
Juggling the blankets to free up an arm he waved an arm towards the sensor and stepped out into the chill early morning air. He could have easily thought the door open, but after being on duty for over 24 hours he wasn't sure that Atlantis was even listening to him anymore. Medical protocols were ingrained into him so well that he could run a trauma call in his sleep, and frequently had whilst he was a junior doctor in Glasgow many years ago. He'd only been using his ATA gene for a few years and it didn't always work as he wanted it to when he was tired. General O'Neil could certainly vouch for that.
He took a deep breath of the clean salty air and let it out slowly, attempting to rid himself of all the worries from the previous night. Looking around he was surprised to see that one of the infirmary's reclining chairs had been moved out onto the balcony, and that an insulated mug and a steaming bowl of what looked like soup had been placed on the floor beside it. He grinned happily and wondered what it was about him that seemed to make nurses the world over want to coddle him. Shrugging and deciding to just take advantage of it, he curled up in the chair and contentedly drew the blankets up around his chin before reaching for the soup. It always paid to keep on the right side of the nurses he mused; and whilst he still desperately wanted to be on the other side of the door right now, it would probably be easier to just go with the flow and accept the situation for a few minutes. He had always made an effort to get on with the nurses, especially back when he had first graduated from medical school. Luckily, the senior staff nurse on duty in his ward of the hospital had seen many a house man come and go. As the day had started to turn into the night, and his seniors had disappeared one by one, she had taken him aside, given him a cup of coffee and a sandwich (the first thing he'd had to eat and drink for over twelve hours) and given him a few pieces of advice. She had terrified him, and he had never forgotten her advice.
'You can never save them all Becket, people are going to die tonight and there's not going to be anything you can do about it. Just concentrate on what you can do and keep going.'
He'd taken her advice to heart and had tried to keep going through the night. Looking back now, he couldn't remember much of that night. Just the heart stopping terror that had shot through him every time the emergency tone had sounded on his bleep. Even now, that particular tone could set his adrenaline pumping and push his heart up into his mouth. He'd learned to listen to the nurses then, and the habit had stayed with him throughout his career.
Letting his thoughts drift back to the present, he looked out at the restless ocean and tried to let the beauty of the false-dawn light wash away the stresses of the night. Once again, he had been forced to pick up the pieces of an off-world mission gone wrong. He still hadn't quite sorted out what had happened, all he knew was that Sheppard and his team were fine when they left, and now they weren't. There were wraith in the story somewhere, a big river, and a lot of mud. Somehow the three things had come together, and not in a very good way. It was a very bedraggled and muddy team who had dragged themselves back through the gate the previous evening. At first he had laughed – seeing the normally fastidious Rodney covered in mud was not something you got to see every day. The physicist had tried to growl some insults back at him but it lacked his usual bite, and that, coupled with the lack of response from the rest of the team, had set Carson's mental alarms ringing in his head. It was something he had learnt early on in his career – always listen to your gut. He'd seldom been wrong, and his doctor friends had started to call it his "spidey-sense", he thought that someone had been reading too many comic books but at least it had been something to smile about.
Unfortunately, being in another galaxy hadn't affected his instincts as Sheppard, who up until now had remained silent, stopped walking and put his hand out to brace himself against the wall. He had frowned and started to walk over to him when the man had silently crumpled to the ground, falling into a heap on the gate-room floor. It had all gone a little pear-shaped after that, Major Shepherd hadn't been the only one who had been hiding injuries.
He put the empty soup bowl back down onto the floor before picking up the thermal mug of what was probably yet more imitation tea. He concentrated on that for a second, trying to keep his mind on the present and to forget the scenes from earlier in the night. His infirmary wasn't really equipped to deal with four sick patients simultaneously, and he had had to call in his off-duty personnel to help him with the injuries. Although things had been a bit hairy at times, all four of Sheppard's team were now stable, and had finally fallen asleep. Not quite convinced that they'd stopped trying to scare him now, he had settled in one of the chairs at the nurses' station and set himself up for the rest of the night, ready to be available at a moment's notice.
He had only managed a few minutes there before one of the monitors had started to bleep and he'd been off, worried about what this might signify now. Of course it was only McKay's IV alarming because he'd curled up on himself in his sleep and kinked the tube, but it was enough to start him compulsively checking the rest of them.
It was at this point, that it seemed like the entire night shift of nurses had ganged up on him and suggested, rather forcefully he thought, that he might want to take some time out and go rest. He'd rather go off-world to fight the wraith, than get on the wrong side of the night shift, they could magic a cup of tea and a bit of cake out of thin air, and turned what could be a very spooky place at night into somewhere that was warm and welcoming.
Finishing his tea he turned his attention back to the sky. The first rays of the true dawn were just beginning to break over the horizon, spreading across the sea, lighting up the waves and turning them into a brilliant gold colour. The sheer beauty of it took his breath away. He remembered other moments, snatched after busy nights in Scotland, packed in between emergency calls and routine visits to patients. Whenever he was up at this time, he would always try and find an out of the way place, where he could sit and watch the sun rise. Those precious moments had carried him through his first year as a house officer, and made the daily grind of work that little bit easier to bear. He hadn't always worked in the big cities, the first ever hospital he worked in had been by the sea in a small town in northern Scotland and he still remembered staring out of the window watching the sun rise over the North Sea. It had been Christmas Day, one of the first he had spent away from his family, and one of the loneliest times of his life. It had seemed as if everyone had been going home except him. He did not begrudge his work, after all, someone had to do it, but he missed his family – his mother in particular although he was loathe to admit it. He hadn't come off duty until after new years and had gone home to find his mother had cooked an entire Christmas dinner for him. It was a luxury he hadn't thought he'd be allowed and it had been one of the highlights of his year. Looking back, he realised it had been one of the few times he had left the hospital grounds. He had lived on-site, ate in the canteen, socialised in the hospital bar... his whole life had revolved around that hospital for a year. In many ways it reminded him of Atlantis.
The sun crept over the horizon and he winced as the light hit his face. Closing his eyelids slightly, he let his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight and smiled as the sun's rays began to warm him. He guessed that the ten minutes would have passed by now and that he would be allowed to come back inside, but he was rather enjoying the sensation of the sun on his face. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he curled further under the warm blanket and closed his eyes fully. It was nice to relax for a second, and in a minute he would go and check on his patients. He was not as young as he had been, those many years ago in Scotland, and he was tired after his disturbed night. Gone were the days when a 36 hour shift was shrugged off as nothing. Shifting himself to make the chair a little more comfortable, he let his thoughts drift.
It was sometime later that he finally woke up. He groaned as he uncurled himself from the chair. Hospital chairs were not made to be slept in, although the extra couple of pillows that had somehow appeared from nowhere had probably helped. He grinned happily, even as he started to work the kinks out of his neck. He have to think of something nice to get them on the next Daedalus run, probably something involving obscene amounts of chocolate he mused. Turning back to his chair, he piled the pillows and blankets on the seat and dragged it back towards the infirmary. He would go and check on his patients and then maybe go and try to find some proper food. Turning into the main room he could hear Rodney berating one of the nurses about how they were all trying to kill him. He smiled – all was well with the world.
Finis
-x-x-x-x-
Good? Bad? Terrible? Would love to hear!
A/N – House-men or House officers are first year junior doctors in the UK. Every August a very scared bunch of people leave medical school and are let loose on the wards. I think they're the equivalent of American Interns.