The Trouble with Crash Landings - Chapter 2
John finally gave up trying to sleep at 0430. He'd gone to bed early, feeling exhausted after a day of wandering around Atlantis and serving as an impromptu bowling pin. The first few hours had been peaceful, until he woke up around midnight to go to the bathroom. He would have tossed and turned since then, but he was too sore to move around that much. He wondered how pathetic it was that he couldn't even have a decent case of insomnia.
After a few minutes of grunting and struggling, he managed to pull himself out of bed and make it to the shower. He was pretty sure the time he spent under the hot spray of water would be the highlight of his day. Tension and soreness seemed to run down his body and out the drain with the water, almost making him feel relaxed enough to try crawling back into bed. Almost.
Instead he pulled on some light pants, a t-shirt, and his running shoes. Nervous energy seemed to fill him, making it hard to sit or lay still. He knew he needed to be in motion. There was no way he was able to run with his sore ribs, but he could certainly walk.
Halfway to the east pier, he had second thoughts. His side was burning and his chest felt constricted and tight. He found himself out of breath to the point of almost being dizzy. Sliding down the wall, he sat with his knees bent and his arms draped across them, pulling in fast, shallow breaths. He thought about calling for help, but his stubbornness won out and he convinced himself he could go back after he'd rested.
Twenty minutes later, he felt much better. He made sure his trip back was slow, taking his time and stopping to rest a few times. When he made it to his quarters, he eased himself down on the bed and back against the pillows. An uneasy sleep soon followed. Drifting in and out, he felt unsettled, too exhausted to get up and too nervous to sleep.
John left his quarters again at 0930 and once again began wandering. Breakfast was out. His stomach rebelled at even the thought of food or coffee. He stopped by the firing range and found several men having target practice. Major Lorne seemed to be overseeing the exercises.
"Major, how are they doing?" John tried to sound official and had even changed into his uniform, but he had also seen his reflection in the mirror and knew he didn't look very imposing this morning. Lorne seemed to be studying him, making John wish he'd never stopped by.
"They're doing quite well, actually. Um, sir, if you don't mind my saying, you don't really look like you should be on your feet. Could I help you back to your quarters, or maybe the infirmary?"
"I'm fine, Lorne, remember? I just didn't sleep well. Too much resting the last couple of days and it finally caught up with me."
Lorne nodded. They both understood that once your body acclimated to getting very little sleep, too much sleep sometimes threw off your rhythm. "Okay, if you're sure. You're not on duty yet, are you?"
John sighed, having forgotten that Beckett took him completely off the roster until his ribs had a chance to heal. "No, I'm not on duty," John admitted forlornly, "just incredibly bored."
Lorne smiled and nodded once again. "I understand, sir. Maybe you could read some more of your book."
John squinted at Lorne, making a distasteful face. "No, I think I can find something else to keep me occupied."
"You could always go bug Dr. McKay in his lab. That's always good for a laugh."
John's expression brightened. "Good idea, Major. I think I'll do just that. Carry on." John nodded at Lorne and then headed for the labs. His quick exit made his side hurt and his breathing strained, so he stopped for a second to lean against the wall. Two women from the Biology Department looked at him oddly as they walked down the hall, so he smiled and waved at them. They seemed to relax and nodded back to him. Pushing away from the wall, he wondered just how bad he looked.
Several minutes later, he turned down the hall leading to Rodney's lab and had to smile when he immediately heard loud voices. If he ever went blind, he'd still be able to find Rodney's lab just by following the noise.
"Rodney, that is not right. I tell you that will overload the system and shut down the whole thing." Radek's voice was loud and pitched a bit higher than normal. Sounded like something big.
"And as usual, you have no idea what you're talking about. The buffers we put in place are more than enough to handle any power surges. You're just saying it won't work because I say that it will."
"Rodney, that is most ridiculous thing you say all week, and you say some pretty ridiculous things. Why would I do that? I merely do not want to blow up in order to stroke your ever expanding ego."
John leaned against the door, watching the two scientists argue, each advancing into the other man's personal space just a little with every verbal jab.
"My every expanding ego? Please. Have you listened to yourself lately? You're after my job and you know it."
Radek opened his mouth to answer, even bringing his hand up to wave his finger in McKay's face, when he spotted John watching them. Dropping his hand and turning slightly as he stepped back from Rodney, he addressed John.
"Oh, Colonel Sheppard, we did not see you standing there. Is there something you want?"
John straightened and stepped into the lab, almost stumbling as his knees threatened to buckle. Catching the back of a chair with his hand, he managed to steady himself, unnerved by the sudden loss of strength.
"Colonel?" called Radek, taking a step toward John, but then stopping when the pilot managed to stay upright.
John smiled sheepishly, hoping they couldn't read the fear that was beginning to creep in. His side was really starting to throb and he felt like Ronon was sitting on his chest, making it hard to breathe. "Sorry, clumsy this morning."
Rodney eyed him uncertainly. "You look kind of pale today, ghostlike in fact. Are you sure you're okay?"
John nodded. "I'm good. Just checking in with you, you know, to see if I could help. I'm kind of bored just sitting around."
Rodney shook his head. "No, nothing today. Radek and I are having a slight difference of opinion on something, but it's not anything you can help with. Over your head, I'm afraid. You might be better off going back to your quarters to lie down before you fall down."
John let the insult pass, the feeling of something being wrong increasing almost exponentially by the minute. He was taking shallow breaths to keep down the pain in his ribcage, but he didn't feel like he was pulling in enough air. The first seeds of panic were beginning to germinate in his gut and he had a sudden urgent desire to be in the infirmary.
"Right." Forgetting the men in front of him, John turned and headed for the infirmary, walking as quickly as he could without jarring his ribs too badly.
"That was odd," said Rodney.
Radek frowned, still looking at the doorway. "Colonel Sheppard didn't look well."
"No, he didn't. Let's run a simulation with the new buffers in place and then I'll go check on him." Rodney moved over to the computer and began typing, trying to ignore the feeling that something was very wrong.
John was almost halfway to the infirmary when he had to stop and lean against the wall for support. He was panting, but his chest hurt and he felt like he was suffocating. The panic of not getting enough air was spreading as his chest burned with the effort to draw in oxygen. Sliding to the floor, he fought to remain upright as he clicked his radio.
"Sheppard . . . to Beckett."
"Colonel? What's wrong?"
John figured he must sound pretty bad because the concern in the doctor's voice was obvious. "Doc . . . trouble breathing . . . chest hurts . . . "
"Where are you?"
"Half way . . . between . . . Rodney's lab . . . and infirmary." It seemed to take entirely too much effort to talk, stealing precious air away from other parts of his body. The edges of his vision darkened and for a moment, he was sure he would pass out.
"Hang on, lad, we're on our way."
John's vision swam as he fought to breathe. The only things he was aware of were the pain and the lack of air that threatened to pull him under for good. The memory of having his head held under water during a torture session until he ran out of air and sucked water into his lungs suddenly popped in his head, increasing the sense of panic. Just before everything faded away, he heard voices and felt hands touching him. He couldn't seem to grasp what was happening, but suddenly something was pressed to his face, allowing him to get a little more air. He let the darkness come, knowing at least now he wasn't alone.
oOo
Carson Beckett jogged a few steps ahead of the medical team pushing the gurney. Sheppard didn't call for help unless he was desperate and he'd sounded pretty desperate on the radio. Carson was already running possibilities through his mind to explain the symptoms the pilot had complained of. Turning a corner, he saw Rodney and Radek approach and kneel beside the colonel, who was sitting slumped against the wall gasping for breath.
"Carson, hurry, he can't breathe!" yelled Rodney, his voice even more panicked than the wide-eyed expression on his face.
"I know, Rodney, now get out of the way," ordered the doctor sternly. Rodney almost fell over backwards in his attempt to back quickly away from Sheppard.
Sheppard had his right arm clutched to his side with his hand angling up to the right side of his chest. Breaths were coming in quick, shallow gasps and his face was scrunched up as if he were in pain. Carson grabbed his left wrist to take his pulse as the gurney and equipment caught up to them.
"Colonel, stay with me lad. Can you tell me where you hurt exactly?"
In response, John began sliding over sideways, his eyelids fluttering for a second as if he were trying to open them.
"Get me the oxygen," Carson ordered as he eased John down and onto his back. One of the nurses strapped an oxygen mask on the pilot's face just as his features went slack and his eyes closed again. Carson leaned forward and listened with his stethoscope for several seconds, moving the end around several times as he frowned.
"Decreased breath sounds on the right side . . . we've got a wee bit of a problem. Let's get him loaded and on his way to the infirmary." Rodney and Radek stepped up to help transfer Sheppard to the gurney. "Easy does it," warned Beckett, not wanting to jar his patient any further. As soon as Sheppard was loaded, they hurried down the hall toward the infirmary.
"What's wrong with him?" asked Rodney, almost running down the hall after Carson.
"I'll talk to you later, Rodney, I've got to go with the colonel," answered Carson, turning the corner without looking back. He didn't notice if Rodney continued to follow because he was too busy radioing ahead to the infirmary.
oOo
Rodney paced back and forth muttering to himself until he pivoted around to see Elizabeth, Ronon, and Teyla flow into the waiting area of the infirmary. "About time, I wasn't aware I needed to give you directions."
"We came as fast as we could," said Elizabeth, ignoring the jab in the interests of peace. "What happened?"
Rodney sighed and shook his head. "Weren't you listening? Why do I even bother talking? I told you, he collapsed in the hall and Carson wisked him off here. He was clutching his right side and maybe his chest and he was having a heck of a hard time breathing." Rodney paused and slumped his shoulders as the anger left him. "He didn't look good."
Teyla gently touched his forearm, waiting until he turned to make eye contact before speaking. "Dr. Beckett will take good care of John," she said softly.
Rodney just grunted as he ran his free hand through his hair. "I don't know what could have happened. He crashes a space shuttle into the ground, making a pretty good replica of the Grand Canyon, and then walks away. Now he collapses from walking down the hall. Could this be some kind of . . . " Rodney's hands flailed for a moment as he searched for words. "I don't know, delayed reaction or something?"
"Could be, Rodney," said Elizabeth. "Whatever it is, Carson will figure it out and let us know. Now just try to settle down."
Rodney scowled and started pacing again. "Easy for you to say. You didn't see his fish-out-of-water impression."
Elizabeth exchanged a look with Teyla and Ronon, which Rodney ignored. A few minutes later, they all turned at the sound of Carson walking toward them.
"Carson, what's the verdict?" asked Elizabeth.
"The x-rays show a rather large hemothorax on the right side. Basically, he's got blood in space around his right lung and it's making it hard for him to breathe. Plus there's the blood loss to deal with. We're going to insert a chest tube to drain the blood away and we'll be replacing the blood he's lost as well. It shouldn't take long."
"How did this happen?" asked Ronon.
"Did it have anything to do with the shuttle crash?" asked Elizabeth.
Carson nodded. "Probably. I still don't detect any broken ribs, but apparently the force he impacted the console with was enough to cause some internal bleeding, probably from the chest wall. It's been slowly building over the last couple of days. You're more likely to see a delayed hemothorax with broken ribs, but it's not unheard of to have it without them. There was nothing on his x-rays the other day when I examined him."
"It's all right, Carson, no one's blaming you," offered Elizabeth sincerely.
Carson sighed and pursed his lips briefly. "I should have had him come in for another exam, just to be safe. I saw the bloody trench that shuttle left and I know our Colonel Sheppard's ability to find trouble. It was negligent."
Rodney snorted. "Okay, you know I'm usually the one on the voodoo magic of medicine bandwagon, but you're not psychic. How often does this kind of thing happen, anyway?"
Carson rubbed the side of his face. "Not that often, but it's not really rare either. I should have been more careful."
"And you said it is usually associated with broken ribs, which the colonel did not have?" said Teyla.
"Aye."
"Then get over yourself and get Sheppard drained, or whatever it is you're doing. He did his usual weird almost dying thing to scare us, so go fix him already," said Rodney, waving one hand in the air.
Carson smiled in spite of himself. "Well, that may be a tad overly dramatic, but I appreciate the vote of confidence. He should be fine once we get some of the blood drained. I'll let you know when we're done."
Carson headed back through the doors to where they had taken Sheppard, leaving the colonel's team to wait once again.
oOo
Elizabeth glanced at her watch for what seemed like the twentieth time. She was surprised each time she looked to see it had still been less than an hour because it seemed like much longer. Time flies when you're having fun, she thought to herself bitterly. She entertained herself by studying the people waiting with her.
Teyla sat in the chair next to her, her eyes half closed, her face relaxed, as though she were meditating. Knowing Teyla, she probably was.
Ronon stood in the same place he'd been for the last fifteen minutes, his left shoulder leaned against the wall and positioned so that he could see all entrances into the room. Elizabeth was certain that wasn't an accident because she had noticed him doing the same thing on other occasions. The habits of a runner died hard.
Rodney paced a circle around the waiting area, completing the circuit five times before he retook the chair across from her. He managed to remain still for about thirty seconds before he began bouncing his feet up and down. After a few minutes of that, he rubbed his hands together a couple of times and then ran them down his pants legs. He sat suspended for a few seconds before jumping to his feet and repeating the pattern exactly. Elizabeth wasn't sure whether to laugh or be worried.
The sudden appearance of Carson jerked her thoughts back to the reason they were there. She couldn't help asking the automatic question. "Carson, how is he?" The smile she got in return made her think he'd been expecting it. Looking at her friends, she realized they had all been expecting it, waiting on her to be the one to ask what they all wanted to know.
"He's fine. Well, maybe not fine, but he's on his way to getting there. We've put in the chest tube and the blood is draining well. Quite a bit had built up, so it may take a while. We're replacing the blood and fluids and giving him a round of antibiotics." Carson hesitated a second before continuing. "We've put him on a ventilator for a while, just as a precaution."
Rodney's face took on a panicked look as his eyes widened and his jaw slackened for a moment. "A ventilator?" he asked softly.
Carson nodded while patting the air with his hand. "Now don't get all panicked on me, Rodney. The blood is in the space around the right lung, making it hard for him to breathe. It's a bit like trying to blow up a balloon while it's in a tin can. No matter how hard you try, there's only so much space in that can. With the blood occupying part of the pleural cavity, there isn't much room to expand the lung. The ventilator will not only increase the oxygen supply, but it also takes the workload off his injured tissues, giving them a chance to heal."
Rodney seemed to relax a bit as he gave a quiet nod.
"May we see him" asked Teyla, hope carried in the tone of her voice.
Carson smiled and gave a short nod. "Aye, I expected you might want to. Just remember, it's not as bad as it probably looks this time around. This is really not that uncommon a injury and he should be just fine in a few days."
Carson led them through some doors to one of the main patient areas. Even though he had explained what to expect, Elizabeth still found herself caught off guard. She paused near the foot of the bed, taking in the monitors, IV, blood transfusion, and the ventilator. Following Rodney's eyes, she saw the tube emerging from John's right side, filled with bloody fluid on its downward journey. Surrounding the bandages protecting the invading chest tube, bruises of varying size and intensity covered his right side and stretched across the lower part of his chest, leaving them to wonder just how hard he had impacted the shuttle's console.
"Oh, Carson," she breathed softly. "I didn't realize."
Carson laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "None of us did. I don't remember the bruising being that bad when I examined him, but sometimes these things take time to manifest themselves.
Ronon shifted uncomfortably. "He got knocked down in the gym yesterday. Could that have caused this?"
Carson tensed and frowned at the Satedan. "What do you mean by knocked down and what was he doing in the gym? He was supposed to be taking it easy and resting."
Ronon shook his head. "My fault, Doc. He saw me sparring with some marines and made me stop. We were just talking and one of the guys got hit hard enough to come off the mat and into Sheppard. It knocked us both to the ground and he . . . seemed a little fuzzy for a few moments afterward."
"And why didn't he come to the infirmary so I could examine him?" asked Carson sharply.
Ronon shrugged his shoulders. "He seemed okay after a few seconds. Neither of us thought it was needed."
"And exactly what made you think you should be sparring after I told you to let that shoulder heal? Did you not realize you're risking harming yourself even further? What is wrong with you people?"
"Sorry, Doc. I didn't think it would hurt."
"That was your first mistake," commented Rodney. "Thinking."
Carson sighed loudly and shook his head sadly. "I don't know why I try."
Ronon continued to look at the doctor. He finally glanced back down at Sheppard, watching the ventilator breathe for his friend. "Did that make it worse?"
Carson shrugged his shoulders this time. "It's possible. I don't think that was enough to cause the hemothorax, but I suppose it could have aggravated the condition. If you're asking me if he would still be here without that happening, my answer is probably. There's no way to tell, so there's no point in worrying about it."
Ronon nodded, letting out a deep breath. Elizabeth was pretty sure that was relief she saw on his face.
"All right, you've all seen him now, so out with you. He needs to rest and we need to keep an eye on him. There's no point in any of you hanging around waiting on him to wake up. I'll not take him off the ventilator before tomorrow and I'll be keeping him sedated until then. You can check back with me later if you like."
Elizabeth smiled. "We'll be back later, Carson, and thank you."
"Aye, I know you will. Driving me and my staff crazy, no doubt. And you're welcome."
oOo
Rodney led the way to the infirmary, with Ronon and Teyla right behind him. True to Carson's prediction, they had just about driven the doctor and his staff crazy, dropping in one at a time the rest of the day for updates on John's condition. It didn't matter that they got the same report each and every time. They simply radioed everyone else of their findings and an hour or so later, another team member would check up on their CO. In the end, Carson finally admitted it would have been easier just to let them lurk and promised if they stayed away until after breakfast the next morning, he'd let them hang around. It was now after breakfast and Rodney smiled at the knowledge they could actually stay and be there for the colonel when he woke up.
Rodney entered the infirmary and went straight for John's bed. The only problem was that John's bed wasn't there. He turned around in a complete circle, but didn't spot any stray lieutenant colonels anywhere in the room. Ronon and Teyla studied the room as they approached him.
"Where's Sheppard?" asked Ronon.
Rodney sighed and slumped his head forward and a little to his left. "And you think I can answer that why? I entered the room about ten seconds in front of you and he wasn't here then either. You're the tracker, you tell me."
"Dr. McKay?"
Rodney whirled around to see a short nurse with dark hair tied in a bun approaching. He remembered seeing her a few times, but had no idea of her name.
"Hey, where's Sheppard?"
The nurse stopped in front of them, looking a bit nervous. "You got here a bit earlier than I expected. I was just about to call you. Dr. Beckett had to take Colonel Sheppard to surgery a few minutes ago. He was still bleeding internally and his condition was beginning to deteriorate. Dr. Beckett said to tell you he needed to find the source of the bleeding and get it stopped."
"Well, crap," Rodney said, shaking his head. "Have you called Dr. Weir?"
The nurse shook her head. "Not yet."
"Don't. I'll do it," said Rodney.
The nurse gave a small smile, seeming grateful. "Thank you, Dr. McKay. You and the others can wait outside. Dr. Beckett will let you know when they're done."
Three long faces on slumped bodies slowly retreated back to the waiting area and found a seat. "Back to square one," said Rodney as he reached for his radio.
TBC
