Chapter 13 (A bit of frustrated language in this chapter.)
"You should have seen the pictures, Rodney." Carson shook his head at the memory before continuing to work on the one remaining chunk of debris resting against the back of the scientist's left heel. Wiping sweat and grime from his face, he scowled; one-handed there was no way he was going to be able to move it. "I thought my Uncle Sean was goin' to have a bloody coronary. There's Kenny in a skintight flesh tone body suit, red swirls of color splashed over him from head to toe." Leaning forward, the doctor checked to make sure his audience was still listening.
Glazed, half lidded blue eyes met his. A fine sheen of sweat soaked Rodney's shirt to his back, making it easier for the Scot to watch his breathing and spot any difficulty. Ripping the bottom off the front of his shirt, he soaked it using bottled water, before wiping his friend's brow. "I can't tell if you have a fever, lad, or you're just overheated from laying in this stifling bloody sauna."
Rodney blinked; his struggle to reopen more difficult each time.
A faint sound of banging continued on the steps above them, causing both men to look up. "Sound like they're gettin' closer. Won't be much longer now." Refreshing the damp cloth, Carson laid it back across Rodney's brow.
"So, back to Kenny. Turns out he's become a clown! The biggest darn clown I think anyone's ever seen." Holding out his uninjured arm to flex, Carson grinned, "We're talking the size of Schwarzenegger, here, Rodney. The boy's built like a bloody battleship from all his years of workin' out." Pausing for effect, he smirked, "Uncle Sean cried for days."
No matter how hard he tried, Rodney couldn't stop the chuckle gurgling up from inside and gasped in anguish when his damaged back protested. "Please," he wheezed, his eyes tightly clenched as he rode out the pain.
Without thinking, Carson quickly shifted and held his friend, trying to pass on some small ounce of comfort. Movement of his own broken wrist sent a wave of red hot agony spiking up his arm and into his chest. "Damnit!" he yelled into the darkness, his accent even more pronounced with frustration. "Where the bloody hell is everyone?"
As if by divine intervention, his desperate plea was answered: static burst over the silent radio. "Beckett? McKay? Can you read me?" Sheppard's voice crackled inside the tomb.
Carson quickly felt about on the step beside him, grasping the small piece of equipment. "Major?"
"Carson?"
Looking down at Rodney's closed eyes, he sighed in relief. "Aye, lad. Please tell me you're gonna get us out of here soon."
"Ford and I are working on it. How's McKay?"
"He's still trapped by one foot; I canna get it loose." Pausing a moment, he swallowed, "And he has some broken ribs."
The Major must have caught the hesitation in the physician's voice, realizing there was more than what was being said. "Understood. Stackhouse had a good headway started for us to get to you. It shouldn't be too much longer. There's some big pieces on this side, we'll try to stop them from falling your way."
"We'd appreciate that."
"Doc?"
"Yes, Major?"
"You alright?"
"Aye, lad, just hurry."
"See you in a bit. Sheppard out."
The noise of increased activity continued above them; soon raining more debris down into their tight space as Carson sat huddled next to Rodney, protecting him from further harm. When the scientist groaned and shifted slightly, Carson held him still, "They're almost here, son. The major and Ford are makin' all that racket above us."
"I want a vacation," the scientist mumbled.
"How does a few days in bed with enough pharmaceuticals to knock out a horse sound to you?"
"Take what I can get," the Canadian slurred, no longer able to open his eyes. "Cars'n?"
"I'm here, lad. What do you need?"
Rodney's free left hand groped minutely, searching for some unseen object. "Hurts," he whispered, followed by the scientist's telltale swallow of fear.
Carson blinked back the sudden formation of wetness in his eyes. He wasn't afraid to shed a tear, it was just that he felt so damn useless with his friend beside him, clearly suffering, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. Reaching inside his vest pocket, he fingered his two remaining preloaded syringes of morphine. A quick glance to the rubble before them and to the sound of continued digging, then back to the medication in his hand, he made up his mind. Hopefully, help would arrive before he ran out. Biting off the protective cap, he once again provided Rodney with the only relief available.
"There, lad," he whispered, awkwardly reaching out to hold Rodney's left hand with his own. "You can rest for a bit." A slight squeeze to his fingers was the only reply before the hand grew limp.
Carson continued to sit on his knees, leaning over his friend with his hand wrapped protectively over the other man's. He'd never really been a religious man, but now was the time to beg to the omnipotent power that he'd seen perform miracles when there was little or no hope left. Closing his eyes, he said the only prayer he knew, "Please."
He didn't know how long he sat there listening to Rodney's quiet breathing before a hint of fresh air brushed against his face. Instinctively turning towards it, he was surprised to see light shining from between the rubble and then a hand appear, pulling back a block of debris. Shifting to stop a large chunk from moving on his side of the pile, he looked up once more to see the concerned face of Major Sheppard staring worriedly back at him. "Well, it's about time, John," he said in quiet relief.
Sheppard took in the physician's exhausted façade and then the still form of the scientist beside him. For Carson to call him by his first name, he knew something bad must have happened. "Is he…?"
The Scot shook his head 'no'. "He's asleep."
"Oh." The major remained still, staring at both his friends, grateful to know he hadn't been too late.
"Major, as much as I appreciate seein' your face, might you get back to gettin' us out of here?"
The infamous, cocky grin appeared on the young officer's face as he called back over his shoulder, "Did you hear that, Ford? Doc says it's time for us to get a move on." Whatever had been the Lieutenant's reply only made his grin larger. "Almost done," he assured, "We have to move a girder and then we should have you out of there. Holler if you need me." With that, he disappeared back on the other side.
Carson sat still, listening to the bits and pieces of conversation from their rescuers. He recognized Sheppard and Ford's voices. And was that Colonel Grose? Who was the female? He smiled to himself, realizing that the Major's mission must have been successful. Once he and Rodney were free, they could go home.
Another moan from the building quickly snapped him from his musings of a shower and coffee. 'Oh hell, another bloody aftershock!' he mentally cursed, draping himself protectively over Rodney's inert form. Several new chunks dropped painfully onto his back, making him gasp before he felt something else touch his shoulder.
"Hey, doc, ready to go home?"
Shifting in the cramped space, Carson came face to face with one Major John Sheppard and before he had a chance to move, said Major grasped him in a quick grab and release hug. A bit surprised at the display of affection, the Scot allowed himself to smile, "I couldn't agree more, lad."
Sheppard nodded. "Ford's ready to give you a hand. You're going to have to crawl." Dropping his gaze to the physician's bandaged hand, he glanced back up, "Can you make it okay?"
"I'll manage, Major." Making room for the other man to get around him, he paused, "Don't jostle him. I'm pretty sure he has internal injuries from his broken ribs but I don't know to what extent. Keep him flat and don't turn him over."
Another nod. "Anything else?"
"I gave him a shot of morphine about an hour ago so he's still out of it. Just be very gentle."
"Gentle. Got it." Flattening back against the wall, Sheppard made room for Carson to squeeze past him, watching him slowly disappear through the hole they'd made, before he got his first real look at Rodney. "Another close call, my friend," he whispered, shining his light down to the trapped leg. "Looks like Carson almost had you free."
It took a few minutes, but with a grunt of satisfaction, he was able to work the remaining chunk of stone off Rodney's foot. "I have to tell you, McKay, I don't give a rat's ass about anyone on this planet anymore. What do you say; we blow this place and go home?"
"Sounds good," came the surprising slurred response.
"Hey," Sheppard dropped beside Rodney's head, leaning down to see his friend's face. "I thought you were sleeping."
"No pillow," the scientist grunted, his eyes remaining closed.
"Excuse me, sir," Ford interrupted from his position halfway through the hole, "I've got the litter."
"Send it through, Lieutenant." Sheppard placed his hand on Rodney's sweat soaked head, "Ready?"
"Yeah."
"Let me do all the work, alright." The only response he got was a raised eyebrow. "You know, McKay, even silent, you're a mouthy bastard."
That earned him a quirk of a smile.
Pulling the makeshift litter beside them, Sheppard waited for Ford to make his way into the tight spot before slipping his hands beneath Rodney's shoulders. "On three. Nice and slow, Lieutenant."
Rodney groaned once, his left hand tightly gripping the side of the litter when Sheppard wiggled backwards out the hole, shifting the head of the device with him. "Almost there," he encouraged, once he slipped through the other side.
The colonel and Beckett stood waiting on the other side, having already ushered the rest of the team outside to relative safety, away from the collapsed building. Grose quickly relieved Ford of his burden so he could go back through and retrieve the discarded packs.
Moving swiftly through the building, they exited out into the cold morning air, surprised to see a fine coating of snow covering the ground. Carson pulled his jacket back on, shivering as the cold air chilled his sweat dampened skin, watching Sheppard drape Rodney's over his back, tucking it snug beneath his body.
"Okay, everybody," the major called out once he was finished. "We've got a bit of a walk back to the jumper and God only knows what's waiting for us there. Teyla and Ford, you carry Zelenka. Grose and I have McKay." Turning to Grose's remaining crew, he eyed up the young pale young doctor and lady scientist, "You're in charge of the sergeant."
They nodded, allowing the larger man to drape his arms over their shoulders.
Carson took up position walking beside Rodney, his hand gripping the side of the litter. Sheppard wasn't sure if it was for support or just to help in some small way. A quick glance to the group of walking wounded, he shook his head. This was one day he never wanted to live over again.
SG: A
The walk back to the jumper had been treacherous, having to make their way past collapsed buildings and untamed fires. Bodies littered the ground, not all dead, but the group continued past. It was the sight of the meadow holding the cloaked jumper that brought the ragtag group to a halt.
Checking the perimeter for any unwanted company, Sheppard stepped out from the surrounding tree line, his P90 swinging back and forth slowly. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he signaled the others to join him while punching in the code to decloak the jumper. The feeling that once again this had all been to easy, he warily watched his team members climb in the back of the vessel.
A snap of a twig from behind him caused him to spin and drop on one knee, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound. There standing in the early sunlight stood one Commander Noda.
"Major Sheppard," the sneering little man drawled, "leaving so soon?"
TBC
A/N ;) It's Noda time!