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Four.
Carson sat back from the notes and test results scattered over his desk, throwing his pen across it in frustration. "There is nothin wrong with ya, Rodney," he said aloud, though no one was in the room with him. He rubbed the grit from his eyes, sighing. He had been rereading these test results for three hours. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was near midnight and decided to take a break.
He walked into the main medical bay to see his patients. Elizabeth had left a little bit agoat his insistence. Rodney was awake, his bed half reclined. He seemed lost in thought, probably still in shock over the loss of his voice. Major Sheppard was still belly down on his bed. He had awakened earlier, just long enough to confirm Carson's concussion diagnosis by asking about his dog then vomiting over the edge of the bed. Both men were on albuterol treatments every four hours to ease the bronchitis.
Rodney looked over at Carson as the doctor was scanning the equipment monitoring the major. Watched him nod his satisfaction, peek at the ugly bruises on John's back then pull the sheet a little higher to cover him...and turn to meet his gaze. He could see the apology on his face before Carson uttered a word. He held up a legal pad with a thick black word scrawled on it. 'Well?'
"Rodney..." the doctor started, walking to the other man's bed but stopped when Rodney just lay his head back, suddenly taking interest in the ceiling. "I've been goin over yer tests for three hours. I can't find anythin wrong with ya. I'm sorry."
Rodney closed his eyes, turning his face away. Carson pressed his lips together, turned and walked back to his office.
Rodney's voice was gone but his mind was fully aware of the situation. He was a natural talker. How could he get through a day without talking? What was his life without imparting his knowledge to those less fortunate? His self-pity rant was stopped as his eyes fell on Major Sheppard. What about John? They had their differences but when it came down to it, that man nearly died to save him.
A light groan from across the way brought him from his thoughts. He thought he saw Major Sheppard stir. He called for Carson but no sound came from his moving lips. Afraid the major would come awake disoriented, he threw his legs off the bed and made his way, a bit unsteadily, to his side.
Rodney put a hand on John's shoulder, shaking it gently. He watched the other man's eyes flutter open, roll closed, then pry open again.
"Rodn..." John's voice was weak. "Wha...happe...?"
Rodney swallowed hard, meeting his friend's glazed eyes. Frustrated, he picked up a cup of water on a nearby tray and threw it in the direction of Carson's office. It splattered it's contents, making a satisfying clatter when it hit and bounced across the floor, effectively bringing the doctor out in a befuddled rush.
"Rodney, ya shouldn't be out of bed," Carson scolded as he crossed to them. He smiled when he saw John looking up at him, setting a hand lightly on his back. "Welcome back, Major."
John was confused. He woke with pain in every breath, a hammer beating on his skull and McKay in his face. He must be dreaming. This world was too quiet. Reality with McKay around was not this quiet. Carson came into his line of sight with a big smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. Something had happened…he just couldn't remember what. He tried getting his arms to push him up but his right hand wouldn't work properly and pressure between his shoulder blades stopped him.
Carson didn't removed his hand when John tried to get up. "Not so fast. Yer concussed, son. Broke some ribs and yer wrist, bruised yer back pretty good. Ya'll be my guest for a few days." Carson watched as John's eyes drooped until they closed completely. He turned to Rodney with, "He'll be fine. Let's get ya back to bed."
Rodney looked from Carson to John, worry still etched in his features. Finally, he gave in to Carson tugging him back to bed.
Carson settled his patients then called in the night nurse for instructions. He would be sleeping in his office should he be needed. Lying on the cot in the darkened office, his mind still whirled through Rodney's condition. Why was Rodney mute? What happened in the underground room? Rodney had written down what he remembered but that left a wide gap in the actual events. He needed Major Sheppard to wake up enough to tell him what the bloody hell happened. Maybe tomorrow h...and he was asleep.
A/N: I can't find a good picture of the med bay so I kinda guessed at how it's laid out. Sorry! (bad author, bad author)
