AN: For those of you interested in the 'Daniel version' of rope-induced whumping, aka "Hanging by a Thread" by Jb, please see the link in my profile, kindly provided by Cybersyd42!


-4-

It was an undefined feeling of impending doom that had lured Carson to the gate room the first time.

He dearly regretted being proven correct when the bloody wormhole had spit out a panicked Rodney dragging an unconscious major Sheppard along.

Elizabeth ought to forbid that team from ever stepping through the ruddy gate again. He felt like his staff was devoting an alarming amount of their precious time to putting one or another team member together, only for their hard work to be proven for naught as said team member landed him- or herself in his infirmary yet again.

Of course, Rodney McKay alone could keep whichever unfortunate medic he spotted first busy for hours on end, either by boring them with an ever-growing number of ailments or by bugging them about formalizing medical protocols in case of the most unlikely emergencies.

Carson was extremely glad Rodney had pressed them to work out a detailed emergency protocol for 'poisoning by alien sharp object'.

When the out-of-breath scientist had tumbled through the gate, he had needed to speak only those five words to galvanise a medical team into action. Carson had quickly removed the arrow from major Sheppard's shoulder and a sample of its poison had immediately been run through a series of tests predefined by the emergency protocol, leaving Carson free to stabilize the major's condition and to mend the damage to his shoulder.

In fact, they had Rodney's tenacity to thank for the fact that some of the most abundant substances recently discovered in the Pegasus galaxy had been characterized and added to the test battery.

And his hypochondria.

It had saved Major Sheppard's life.

The poison on the arrow had been found to be closely related to a plant juice that Rodney had accidentally gotten on his hand during a fall off-world. It had left him with a barely visible rash, a violent itch and several innocent bouts of incessant sneezing. Rodney had complained and whined so long that Carson had finally given in and had ordered someone to characterize the substance.

After the connection to the plant substance had been established, it was a fairly sure guess to assume that the critical element in the arrow's toxin against which to develop an antidote was the same as the active component they had already identified in the plant's much weaker toxin.

The speedy availability of an antidote had been critical to the major's survival.

And Carson had been jubilant when personally delivering the good news to Elizabeth in the control room.

Although clearly pleased, the worry had never really left her eyes, and Carson's earlier feeling of dread had resurfaced with a vengeance.

The other team members were still missing.

Elizabeth had told him that Rodney had quickly briefed her in his speed-lecturing mode - a strange story about medieval duels and irate fiancés - before asking permission to return. She had agreed somewhat reluctantly, sending another team along for backup.

Although he could be of more use in the infirmary, something had compelled Carson to stay.

And wait.

Then, things spiralled out of control, fast.

First, the backup team returned, sans Rodney.

Apparently, they had run into a group of angry natives and had engaged a fight. Rodney had suggested they just run away, but Captain Makepeace had thought it better to eliminate the enemy first. But more villagers had come, and the desperate soldiers had no longer aimed to disable only. In the heat of the fight, they had become separated briefly and found out only later that Rodney had lost his head-set in the scuffle.

Unable to hail the wayward scientist, and not knowing where he had been planning to go (and hence, where Ford and Teyla might be), they had fruitlessly searched the woods for his tracks during 20 minutes. But the forested planet held a very rich animal life, which created numerous tracks as well and rendered the life signs detector pretty useless.

Captain Makepeace had not been able to think up any other course of action but to return to Atlantis to report in and await further orders.

As Carson was contemplating his dislike for the man, the feeling of impending doom kept growing steadily.

Elizabeth was on the verge of ordering to dial the gate in order to send through 2 teams to perform a search and rescue mission when the wormhole engaged for the third time.

Disgorging first Lieutenant Ford, carrying a limp Teyla, followed immediately by an incredibly muddy Rodney McKay.

Carson skipped down the stairs, and the helpful people in the gate room who had gently eased Teyla down quickly made room to give him a clear path to the unconscious woman. As he kneeled next to the Athosian, Lieutenant Ford's somewhat breathless voice sounded: "Teyla was shot by an alien arrow. She nearly drowned and hasn't been really conscious since…"

Carson nodded, glancing a sneak peak at the collapsed Lieutenant from the corner of his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just sore, and tired." The weak grin that accompanied the young soldier's answer didn't fool Carson for one moment. He had experience in handling self-depreciating military types. So had his best nurse, who thankfully was on duty today.

"Okay, then, you'd best be getting to the infirmary too, so Mae can check you out."

Satisfied that Teyla was reasonably stable for now, Carson allowed his staff to whisk her away to the infirmary, intent on following, but stopped by a sudden feeling of wrongfulness.

His gaze passed over Aiden and fell on Rodney.

An unusually quiet Rodney.

"Rodney?" Carson softly called for his friend's attention, not liking the dazed faraway look in the scientist's eyes.

Rodney appeared to have some difficulty focussing on him, and the abnormal wheezing in his breath caused Carson's concern to go up another notch. "I'm …fine, … Carson, …you should …get to …Teyla"

Rodney was very good at concealing his emotions, but Carson knew the man well enough to notice his concern for Teyla. The way in which he prattled along, ignoring the fact he was depriving himself from much-needed oxygen, emphasized that.

"I expect it's the …. same poison as the one on … Sheppard's dart, … but she was in the water ….immediately after being shot, …. and the arrow … was mostly …stopped by her … jacket…" In his excitement, Rodney automatically started his habitual gesturing.

The way he stopped abruptly, dropping his left hand limply, brought a frown to Carson's brow.

Carson's danger sense was tingling in overdrive.

If Rodney was bitching and moaning, his hypochondria promised hell for Carson. But it was when he said he was fine, that Carson really started to worry. And he hadn't missed the concealed wince when Rodney had moved his arm.

His experienced eyes quickly trailed over Rodney. Reddish brown mud was liberally coating the Canadian, from head to toe, and even smeared across the automatic gun that was dangling in front of his chest, steadily dripping down from his finger tips.

Wait just a wee second.

That wasn't only mud dripping down, forming a dark red puddle on the gate room floor…

Carson was at his friend's side in a second, and gently pulled his right arm up, eliciting another slight wince from Rodney. Up close, he noticed the sleeve's fabric was torn and as his eyes slid further down he saw the blood.

Uncomfortably much of it.

Pooling from underneath the sleeve.

Welling up from a horribly mangled hand.

Dread seized Carson as he grabbed Rodney's other arm, and he was horrified to see his other hand was injured at least as badly.

"Oh, dear Rodney, what did you do to yourself…" He sighed, capturing his friend's dazed look. "Let's get you to the infirmary as well…"

"Sorry…" Rodney murmured softly, and obediently took a few steps when prompted by Carson's gentle pull. Then he stopped suddenly, and blinked twice before his eyes rolled up and his body became slack.

Carson could catch him just in time to save the unconscious man from hitting his head against the hard unforgiving floor tiles.

"Get me a stretcher!" He ordered, as he gently eased his burden down. When retrieving his hand from its supportive position at the back of Rodney's head, he found it wet and tinged a bright red.

He looked up into the horrified eyes of Lieutenant Ford.

"Get that bloody stretcher in here, NOW!"