Less Than A Minute (Part 7)
"They're gonna be okay." Whatever else Beckett said fell upon deaf ears as Sheppard stared past the physician, trying to catch a glimpse of the scientists in room behind the Scot before the door closed. He didn't know when his blanket fell to the floor and he stood up with every intention of seeing for himself that the words were true, but the hand pressed to the center of his chest, abruptly stopping him, snapped his tired brain back to the present.
"Doc, I just wanna…" Sheppard paused, when Carson shook his head.
"They need to rest, son." Letting his hand drop, he scrubbed his face wearily with both hands. "We all do."
"But," Sheppard tried again, not willing to give up without a fight.
Carson stood his ground in the doorway. "They need to rest," he said again, emphasizing the word 'rest'. Seeing the disappointment on all the faces surrounding him, he sighed. "Give them until morning at the very earliest. By then, the sedatives should be wearing off and they should be sleeping on their own."
"Sedatives?"
"Colonel, how else would you expect Rodney's leg to be sutured or Radek's ribs to be set?"
"I thought with a head injury, Rodney was supposed to stay awake. And what about his sight?"
Shifting uncomfortably on feet that had been standing far too long, Beckett glanced over his own shoulder to the closed door behind him. "At the moment, there isn't much I can tell you. Think of your eyes as olives in a martini. Give the drink a good shake and they bang against the inside of the glass, twisting and pinching the connective nerves and tissue. There's gonna be damage. To what extent, we can only tell once Rodney regains consciousness and can answer some questions. We also need to run some more tests."
Stunned silence fell on the group and the physician took pity upon them, seeing their stricken faces. Relenting, and against his own better judgment, he sighed, "You can take a quick look inside, but then I must insist that you all leave and go to bed. Be quiet, don't touch anything, and remember they've been through a traumatic incident."
They each nodded in agreement before silently following Beckett into the room. The sight that greeted them stopped them in their tracks.
Radek was situated closest to the door. Propped up at a 45 degree angle, his lower chest was swathed in bandages and he was covered with numerous cuts and bruises. A nasal cannula fed oxygen to his weakened lungs and there was an IV with several bags of liquids attached to his left arm. His face appeared drawn with fine lines of pain pinched in the corner of his eyes even as he slept. The steady blip of the heart monitor filled the silence.
It was his wrapped hands that Sheppard pointed to, shooting Beckett a concerned gaze but not saying a word.
The physician held his hands up in front of his head with his face turned away, palms placed outward. "They were burned and cut protecting himself from the explosion." When Elizabeth's own hand flew up to cover her mouth, effectively muffling an outcry of sympathy for the Czech, Carson smiled at her sadly, "He will be fine, lass, they both will be. It's a miracle that neither of them has anything more severe than small patches of first and second degree burns."
Stepping over to the second bed, Carson tugged the curtain back to reveal Rodney propped up in a similar manner to Radek, also connected to familiar and unfamiliar medical paraphernalia. But instead of a wrapped chest, he was dressed in scrubs with a blanket pulled up to his chin. It was his right leg sticking out, propped on a pillow, and swathed in white bandages with a faint hint of pink seeping through, which caused some to pause. But for others, it was the bandages wrapped around his head, effectively covering the brilliant blue eyes, which left them speechless.
Sheppard stepped over beside the bed and studied his wounded friend before looking back to Radek. Not able to stop himself, he gave the Czech a light reassuring squeeze to the arm before he turned back to Rodney. Taking the unbandaged hand in his own, he leaned over and whispered to the sleeping scientist, "You both made it." At a loss for any further words, he stood staring at where he knew McKay's eyes should be underneath the bandages, until a gentle hand on his arm gave a slight tug.
"John," Elizabeth whispered, her own voice cracking with pent up emotion, "we need to let them rest."
He nodded slowly, carefully setting Rodney's hand back on the mattress. He allowed her to pull him towards the doorway before he stopped to look back. Carson remained at their bedsides watching him.
"I'll page you instantly if there is any change," he said quietly.
Sheppard nodded again before stepping into the hallway, making his way over to one of the empty chairs. But before he could sit, Weir grabbed him by the arm and turned him around.
"Ronon, can you see to it that the Colonel gets back to his room?" she said to the large man standing behind her.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
"Elizabeth, I don't need…" Sheppard began in protest, only to stop when she raised a brow.
"I'll meet you all for breakfast at 0800." When he started to balk, she held up her hand to stop him. "That's in four hours, not nearly enough time for a proper rest but if I know you, that's the best I can hope for. Once we're done, we'll come back down and see if there's been any change."
"Fine." Without further comment, he turned and stalked down the corridor, his robe billowing out behind him like a superheroes' cape.
Elizabeth caught Ronon by the arm. "No drinking, no hitting things in the gym, and no football dvds. Make sure he gets to his quarters."
Dex looked down at her hand and she let go. "Not a problem."
"Good." Once he disappeared down the hallway after Sheppard, she turned to the woman standing silently at her side. "I don't know about you, but I'm bushed."
"It has been a long day."
Walking side by side down the hallway, Elizabeth paused, "Care to join me for a snack in the dining hall?"
"I thought you," Teyla started but then smiled. "This would be for 'comfort food'?"
"Exactly."
"Then, yes, I shall join you." They walked in silence before she continued. "Should we have not invited the others?"
Elizabeth smiled, "Do you honestly believe those two are going to rest?"
SG: A
Breakfast came soon enough and the four met around a table, each carrying sparsely covered trays of fruit and mugs of coffee. Only Ronon's tray was piled high with various meats, eggs, and toast.
"Not hungry?" Sheppard quipped to the women while watching Teyla cut off a small bite of a cantaloupe, toying with it on the end of her fork.
Elizabeth merely shrugged, sipping her coffee, relishing every drop of caffeine as it went down.
"Dr. Weir," a young attendant spoke from behind the group. When she turned to face him, he held out her jacket, "You left this here earlier, Ma'am."
"Thank you." Draping it across her lap, she turned back to see Sheppard's teasing smile aimed in her direction.
"Let me guess, comfort food?"
When neither she nor Teyla answered, he nudged Dex. "What's with women and food?"
"I wouldn't be so quick to judge if I were you," Weir cut in, not giving the Setedian a chance to reply. "I know for a fact, due to the complaint form submitted on my desk this morning, that the two of you, as well as several of the marines on duty last night, had a 'scrimmage' in the hallway outside of certain crew quarters."
Without saying a word, Ronon pulled a small hidden knife from his vest and placed it on Sheppard's tray, before stomping out of the room in disgust.
Seeing Weir's puzzled face, the colonel smiled, "He didn't think a certain individual would dare to complain against him. I bet him differently." Tucking the sheathed knife in his belt, he stood up, "Ready?"
The trio soon followed Dex towards the infirmary.
SG: A
They were met at the door by one of Carson's assistants, who guided them over to the Scot's office. "Dr. Beckett will back momentarily. He asked that if you arrived while he was out, that you wait here until he returned." Moments later, freshly showered and carrying a bagel, he breezed into his office.
"Good morning," he said between mouthfuls and a swallow of coffee. Giving them each a speculative eye, he shook his head in disgust. "Did any of you get any sleep?"
There were several throat clearings but no one answered his question.
He shook his head like a disappointed parent, "You all should know better. But, since you don't care to listen to me in regards to taking care of yourselves, I'll save my lecture for later." Pulling out his chair, he sat down and tipped back in his seat. "Are you going to sit down or am I gonna get a bloody crick in my neck staring up at the rest of you?"
Sheppard dropped his hip to the edge of the desk, the women took seats opposite Carson, and Dex remained in the doorway.
"Okay. First off, they both are resting as comfortably as can be expected. Radek did awaken earlier for a brief moment but Rodney is still sleeping."
"When can we see them?"
Carson frowned at Sheppard's question but he had been expecting it. "I'll let you in, one at a time, but," his words were left hanging in empty air when the colonel slipped off his desk and made for the open doorway. "Don't wake them," he called out only to receive a waved hand in the air before the man disappeared behind the curtained off area of the infirmary.
Looking at the three remaining individuals in his office, he shrugged, "I'm surprised he lasted that long."
SG: A
Rodney couldn't remember why he was there, but the uncomfortable mattress beneath him, the general feeling of being doped to the gills, and the underlying throb of pain throughout 99.9 percent of his body left little doubt that he was most definitely in the infirmary. Lying perfectly still so that his body wouldn't incite a riot of disapproval against possible pain-causing movement, he heard voices quietly talking nearby. The longer he listened though, the more he realized it was one single voice.
"…So there's Dex with the ball, plowing down some of the finest the Daedalus left behind on its last trip. Next thing, I know he's turned around and heading directly towards me. And well, you and I both know, getting creamed by Andre the Giant's little brother; and I do use that term 'little' loosely; is causing my life to flash before my eyes. I mean, I swear, McKay, on all the power bars you've stashed throughout Atlantis, I felt mortality. So, I did the only thing I could. You're gonna love this. You ready? I thought the lock off Kavanaugh's door and made it open behind me before taking a quick step a side."
There's a pause and quiet laughter.
"Next thing I know, Dex barrels past me, and then there's a yell worthy of any Jason movie I might have ever seen emanating from within the room, before Dr. K flies past me…"
More laughter.
"…naked as a jaybird. I'm still not sure which one of them let out the yell. You have never seen a detachment of Marines move that fast, in your entire life, as they did this morning to get out of the way."
Sheppard. A quirk of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before Rodney could stop it. Ready to abandon the dark, cotton stuffed world, he turned slightly towards the colonel, and gathering what little strength he could muster, attempted to peel his eyes open. But nothing happened.
He could feel his eyes moving behind his heavy lids. Maybe he only thought he'd tried. Putting a little more effort into it, he could actually feel something pull against his lids, keeping them closed. Frustrated and not understanding why his eyes wouldn't open, he lifted both hands to his face, only to feel someone capture his arms and gently pin them back to the bed.
His heartbeat picking up in rhythm, he could hear the increase on the monitor beside him and he focused on that sound. Everything else began to fade around him. Sheppard no longer existed. The steadily rising roar of rushing blood filled his ears and frightened gasps of air gripped his chest.
His world was now spiraling out of control and he could feel himself tunneling towards oblivion. Ready to let go and slip back into the quiet, pain free existence from earlier, he was startled to feel the hand on his arm let go and then grip his hand tightly. The voice piercing the fog was calling to him to not let go.
He didn't want to go. He really didn't. So he flexed one finger and then another into the grip holding him. Little by little the roar quieted, his breathing got easier, and then he finally recognized Sheppard and Beckett talking to him.
"Come on, McKay. Just a little more," Sheppard encouraged from somewhere close by.
"That's it son, nice and slow."
And that, he thought, would have to be Carson.
With one monumental and exhausting push, he breached the fog. "Wha' hap'ned?" he croaked.
TBC
