Bit of naughty swearing coming up...
oOo
It occurs to Rodney that he's upside down; the stupid orange suit he's wearing suffocates him and makes him sweat. He swings back and forth sickeningly, and the blood has become a solid mass in his head. The big man with the dreads is going to shoot him, so he tries to beg for his life, like the coward that he is.
His babbling is interrupted by hard edged words,
"Stop talking, McKay. Teyla? Pick it up! Sheppard's dialling..."
Making no sense to him the words drift away, and he opens his eyes to a moment of clarity. His nose hurts and he wishes it wasn't being bumped continuously against something hard. He tries to turn his head. Now his neck hurts; he wonders if he has whiplash. There is a smell of old overcoats, and also that metallic tang of spilled blood.
He thinks he sees upside down trees, but really they could be anything...
His body comes to an abrupt stop, and the air is still and quiet around him. His dangling arms come into view, and he sees that he's not wearing an orange suit after all, and yet he still feels super-heated and dizzy.
A pair of eyes appear, and they look strange; they are Sheppard's.
"...not shoot m-me today...", he tells the colonel, his tongue like a stick in his mouth.
Sheppard's brows knit, but he is apparently not interested, and says nothing.
Then the wormhole swallows him up.
oOo
Crap... he's upside down again, and this time he's had enough.
"...want... up..", he struggles because his hands are by his side which is very strange. The back side of him is cold and uncomfortable, while the front doesn't belong to him. It seems to no longer exist... it's so warm, like he's pressed up against the wall of a sauna.
There's movement around him, which also leads to confusion.
Voices are one minute at his head and next minute by his suspended feet. But, no... his feet are down, not up. Suddenly he feels very sick; he's panting and his head roots around for a suitable place to throw up.
The world swoops...
Okay, this is crazy... now he's standing?
He feels a cold edge brought to his chin and then nature does its thing and he loses his stomach painfully.
Something wipes at his face and it smells wet and clean and good.
His eyes blink open and he immediately recognises the infirmary. He's not standing up and yet his head seems at the correct level for being upright. He's certainly not hanging upside down, that much is obvious.
He makes out that he's lying on his belly, with his right cheek glued - by the miracle of drool - to a small, thin pillow. He's strapped to some kind of torture table; the kind that tilts for the convenience of the torturer.
Speaking of... doctors (torturers)... here is Carson. He looks cross. He's playing with a control pad and messing with the table Rodney's attached to.
"Stop yer thrashing, Rodney.", says the severe voice of the doctor.
Rodney tries to say, go to hell. It sounds nothing like, go to hell.
"Are ye swearin' at me now, lad? Good for you, ye' bad tempered lump..."
The doctor's face looms up, big and scary, and Rodney tries not to whimper.
"Keep still, alright? It's not for much longer, we just need another wee look."
The table moves, pulling him away from Carson, and posting him into a slot in the wall. Panic stirs in him; he feels like he's in a coffin. It's dark for a moment and then lights appear.
A disembodied voice orders, "Still, now, Rodney... Thankyou"
The scan is over and the machine spits him out into the stark brightness of the infirmary.
He wants to say, what the fuck's going on?, but hears instead, "Wh. th...mff..ff..?"
"Enough with the swearin'...! There're ladies present.", and he hears tinkling feminine laughter from somewhere.
There is silence for a heartbeat or two; then, "Good, very good", says Carson.
The big face is back, and it directs him to, "Go to sleep now"
He doesn't argue; he goes to sleep.
oOo
"I am in your debt, Rodney" and she says it like she's explaining something to a small child.
He immediately says, "No... you're not", and shakes his head, even though his neck stings. He really doesn't want that, to be owed something... to be that important to someone.
He is sitting up against a heaping of pillows, sideways on, so that the dressing on the back of his neck isn't crushed or knocked off. He's turned to face the Athosian woman, who perches on the edge of a chair near the head of the bed.
With no damage to his spine, and possibilities like massive infection and hypo-volemic shock already dealt with, Carson believes he will recover fully within the next week or so. Yeah, but there's a hole in his neck... something that creeps him out and leaves him reluctant to venture anywhere near the bulky dressing that irritates and musses his hair at the back.
He gives her a lop-sided grin,
"Look, you're the brave one, I just reacted, you know... like always."
His voice sounds weak to his own ears; it's late evening, and it's ridiculous that all the excitement happened only that morning. He's tired and his body feels empty, still, even after the transfusion they gave him earlier.
Teyla's head tilts, one eye brow lifts...
"Bravery?! What is bravery?", she demands, and he is instantly anxious; what has he said now?
"Is it knowing how to fight? Is it being able to kill?" now she is leaning towards him and he in turn moves back, uncomfortable with the closeness and with the accusatory tone she seems to be using.
Then, magically, all tension leaves her and her face softens.
Teyla takes his hands in hers, and leaning over touches her forehead to his. For once in his life he is speechless.
Shaking her head gently against his, she smiles, and her eyes seem to radiate strength from her very soul. Her hands clasp his, and her voice is low.
"No, it is none of these things. It is risking yourself for another... it is putting fear behind you... it is turning away from safety and running full pelt into danger. You could have saved yourself today, my good friend, instead you saved me. I thank you, Rodney... for being the brave one, I thank you"
It seems impossible, but he's embarrassed and delighted at the same time.
"...Y'welcome...", he mumbles into his shoulder, more overcome than he thought he could be.
After a few long seconds, she releases his hands, which immediately feel the lack of her, and he clears his throat.
"Teyla, I don't want you to think... that you're just a woman to me."
Her eyes glitter, and she bats her eyelashes, playfully,
"But I am a woman, am I not?", she asks in mock indignation, folding her arms deliberately.
"Now you're teasing me...", he complains, with a long-suffering sigh, and he, also, folds his arms.
"Yes, I am", she replies, and her eyes just shine.
oOo
Well, that's the end... apologies if you were hankering after something more substantial. I have to put my efforts into the other story I'm writing, so I hope you will forgive me!xxx