Less Than A Minute (Part 8)

Situated on an uncomfortable chair between the two scientist's beds, Sheppard kept a watchful vigil on both men, waiting for any possible sign that one or both might be waking soon. But when neither even twitched within the first hour, he began to grow antsy.

Standing to stretch, he strolled through the rest of the empty infirmary, picking up and examining an odd piece of equipment here or turning on and then off a monitor there. It was when he slipped on the automatic blood pressure cuff and it inflated, that Carson made an appearance and caught him. Quickly replacing the item, once it released him, he sheepishly returned to his seat.

The physician glanced at the readout displayed for Sheppard's blood pressure before allowing himself a brief smile. "Anything else you might like to try out while you're here?" he teased lightly, watching the American's eyes flicker momentarily in fear before giving a smile of his own

"Sorry, I kind of…" Sheppard waved his hand between the two sleeping men and shrugged.

"Why don't you talk to them?"

"I thought that was done to coma patients."

Carson took notes on his datapad of Radek's readouts. "A brain at rest in any state can still listen."

"Oh. What should I talk about?"

Stepping over to Rodney's bedside, Carson raised a surprised brow. "What would you usually talk about?"

Sheppard scratched his head. "Missions, his experiments, Kavanaugh's latest fubar."

"Fubar?"

"Yeah. It's military jargon for…"

Carson stared at him expectantly, knowing full well what 'fubar' meant but waiting to see what the colonel might say.

"Uh, fouled up beyond all reason."

"Oh, is that it?"

"Yeah," Sheppard replied, looking slightly relieved.

Carson chuckled to himself, but soon returned to doctor mode when he peeled open the dressing on Rodney's leg, exposing the nasty looking wound. Gently pressing points around the injury, he watched in satisfaction as the pink color returned. "Blood flow is back to normal," he said out loud.

"What do you mean back to normal?"

"Nothing you need to worry about, Colonel. Rodney's body has taken care of the situation."

"Too bad it hasn't taken care of his sight."

Carson's frown returned. "We don't know that, yet. Give him time."

"How much time? How long before you might know something?"

Wrapping fresh bandages around Rodney's leg, Carson glanced up to meet Sheppard's concerned gaze. "I don't know. Two weeks? Six months? Two years? Possibly never." He watched his words sink in and the disappointment they created. "I just don't know," he repeated quietly.

Silence hung heavy in the air as Sheppard sat and watched Beckett unwrap the bandages from around McKay's head, uncovering the unseeing eyes. The exposed gash looked raw and ugly. It ran from his temple into his recently shaved hairline, and the black stitches in a neat row gave it a Frankenstein effect. Another thing Rodney had to look forward to, although if he couldn't see, it might not be so bad. The American snorted to himself. Right, who was he trying to kid?

Carson glanced up at the sound before focusing his attention back on the Canadian. Lifting each eyelid, he shone his small penlight back and forth in each eye, watching closely for any reaction. When the pupils remained inactive, he sighed and replaced the bandages.

"Doc?"

"It's too soon to expect anything." Dropping the remainder of the roll of gauze into his smock pocket, he folded his arms across his chest and stood contemplating his patient. "He should be waking up soon. Talk to him," he encouraged before returning to his office, allowing the colonel some privacy so that he might feel more comfortable.

Sheppard chewed his lower lip before tipping back on his chair. "Did I tell you about Carson climbing up on the roof of Atlantis to save your whiney hide? I wish you could have seen it." And so he continued for the next hour, telling one story after another about the late evening/early morning adventure.

It was when he was describing the football game outside of the crew quarters that he noticed McKay twitch. Not much, just a tightening of the facial muscles around the uncommonly quiet mouth. Continuing his tale, Sheppard made his way to the foot of the bed and tossed a perfectly aimed roll of gauze into Beckett's office, nailing the physician on the top of his head. When the Scot looked up in surprise, the American eagerly waved him to come back.

Both men stood on opposite sides of the bed watching the scientist's slight head and hand movement, signaling his gradual awakening. It was when the heart monitor began to indicate the increased rhythm and Rodney's facial expression tightened in distress that they knew something was wrong. McKay suddenly reached up towards his face but his movements were intercepted as the two men each caught an arm and held him carefully to the bed, trying to soothe the agitated scientist with encouraging words.

Seeing that they were having little effect, Sheppard let go of the struggling arm and grasped Rodney's hand in a firm grip instead. Leaning forward he encouraged gruffly, in his authoritative offworld voice, "Come on, McKay. Just a little bit more."

That seemed to do the trick and the struggles slowly reduced as Rodney relaxed. "Wha' hap'ned?" he croaked.

Sheppard's face filled with a full-blown smile that he saw reflected on Beckett's own, when the two men glanced up at one another in relief. Turning his attention back to the Canadian, while Carson checked his readings and then retrieved a cup of ice chips, the colonel patted his friend's hand.

"You had an accident."

Rodney's brow furrowed in concentration. "I did?" His voice sounded dry and scratchy.

Before Sheppard had the chance to continue, Carson stopped him. "Let's see what he remembers first, son, before we tell him what happened," he said quietly while spooning a piece of ice into the scientist's mouth.

Rodney remained almost perfectly still, his only visible movement being his jaw as his tongue slid the ice over his parched lips and teeth. His grip was still firmly ensconced in the colonel's, not showing any signs of wanting to let go.

"Rodney?" Carson spoke, knowing he had the man's attention when the head on the pillow shifted slightly in his direction. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." He lifted his wrapped hand towards the physician and Carson carefully caught it.

"What do you need, son?"

"What happened? Why am I here?" He tugged his hand free of Sheppard's and reached to feel his face. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

Beckett shot the colonel a nod to intercept the searching hand.

"Stop that or you'll mess up the doc's handiwork."

Rodney's head tipped back towards Sheppard. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong with my eyes?" The blip on the heart monitor began to speed up.

"Hey, calm down. He can't tell you anything until you can tell him what you remember. Think, McKay, what's the last thing you remember?"

Rodney pulled his other hand free from Beckett and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Wincing when his leg slipped from the pillow, he swatted away at the hand that suddenly touched him in an attempt to help. "What does it matter what I remember? I don't remember anything!" His face scrunched in irritation, he banged his head back on the pillow only to instantly grimace at the pain flooding through his skull. "Ohh…" he groaned, clenching his teeth together to fight it.

"That'll teach you to get uppity," Beckett scolded. "Now settle down before I sedate you back into oblivion."

"I don't remember," the scientist whispered, pressing his head back into the pillow behind him. Folding his arm across his chest, he began to shut himself down from the others.

"Doc?" Sheppard hissed, pointing to the scientist and then gesturing for the physician to do something.

Beckett's hand flew up in the 'What!' position. Scowling, he closed his eyes a moment before opening them and looking slightly calmer. "Rodney, I want to help you, you daft bugger. Do you remember anything from yesterday morning? Breakfast perhaps? You were telling us about some particle inhibitor…thing."

The scientist remained quiet.

"Come on, McKay," Sheppard teased, "you swiped the Doc's donut on the way out. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"No. Yes." He rested his hand against his forehead and the other two could just imagine his expressive eyes shifting behind the bandages in an effort to find the answer. The monitor began to increase once again.

"McKay, talk to me. What do you remember?"

"Booby trap."

"Where?"

Rodney turned to Sheppard, what little color in his face was draining rapidly. "Radek said 'booby trap'." His head snapped back in Carson's direction, "You said he was sleeping. Where is he?" By now the monitor was showing a serious increase and Sheppard knew the scientist really needed to settle down.

"Rodney, he's resting right beside you."

"He couldn't breathe. I tried to help him sit up and he told me to get the med kit. He stopped talking." Leaning sideways on his bed, he tried to get to Zelenka before Sheppard pinned him back to the mattress.

"Rodney, calm down," he snapped, watching Carson take a syringe from the bedside table and inject something into the IV port. "He's fine. Busted a couple of ribs and had a little allergic reaction, but other than that he's sleeping like a baby."

The scientist suddenly grew quiet and the fight drained out of him. "What am I going to do?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?"

Rodney's head tipped back towards the American. "In case you haven't noticed, Colonel, Atlantis isn't exactly equipped for a blind man. Last time I checked there wasn't any Braille on their technology."

"Rodney, we don't know that it is permanent," Carson interrupted. "You were in the radius of an explosion and then somehow you received a serious blow to the head, most likely caused by the blast. You could be suffering from concussion blindness or optical trauma due to swelling. It's gonna take some time, son, until we know for sure."

"How long?"

"How long until what?"

"How long until you know? How long until I might get my sight back?"

"I don't know," Carson answered truthfully.

Rodney chewed his lower lip in contemplation, his face an unreadable mask. "Get out."

"McKay," Sheppard reached down and tried to get hold of the scientist's hand, but he pulled away.

"I said get out. Both of you. I want to be left alone."

"Rodney," Carson tried, only to be met with defiance as the Canadian turned his way, his jaw prominently pointed in the Scot's direction. The gesture had little effect, though, as the physician watched the sedative kick in. Soon, sleep washed over the hurting figure before them.

"Well, that went well," Sheppard said, suddenly feeling very tired himself.

"He is afraid." The quiet voice was so unexpected that came from behind them that Sheppard and Beckett both spun around to stare at Zelenka, in disbelief.

The Czech looked tired and drawn resting back against his pillow, but his pale blue eyes watched them both closely. "He is scientist who can not see." His gaze shifted to Sheppard, "Can he still be Answer Man? Can he still save Atlantis, when nobody else can, if he is blind? Or does he get sent back, useless and discarded, no longer needed?"

"We wouldn't send him back," Sheppard snapped defensively. "He still knows this place better than anyone, with what's tucked away in his brain."

"You don't know that, Colonel. This is military operation. Scientists come second."

Sheppard knew Zelenka was right. Frustrated, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed, turning to watch Beckett put McKay's leg back on the pillow and adjust the IV lines. "How's he doing?"

"He'll sleep for the next few hours. Something I highly recommend you do in your own quarters." Finished with Rodney, Carson made his way to Radek's side. "How are you feeling, son?"

The Czech yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Tired. Thirsty."

Carson reached back to the bedside table and removed a glass of water. Slipping a straw into the liquid, he held it out while Radek took a small drink to quench his thirst. When the man closed his eyes and leaned back, the Scot returned the cup to the tray. "Better?"

"Yes," Radek replied sleepily.

"Are you in much pain?"

The Czech's head slowly rocked back and forth.

"Zelenka?"

Radek peeled one eye open to look at Sheppard.

"Rodney said you found a booby trap."

"Yes, in console. A self destruct mechanism that was set for Wraith, but …" His words faded when his eye slid shut in sleep.

"That's your cue, Colonel. They need to rest and so do you." Carson snorted and stretched his back, before scratching his head. "So do I."

"You kicking me out?"

Carson nodded, watching Dr. Biro enter the infirmary carrying a half eaten sandwich and a mug of coffee. "Let me finish up here and then I'll walk back with you. This will take just a minute."

The two physicians headed back to Carson's office leaving Sheppard alone with the sleeping scientists.

"Nobody's getting sent back on my watch, I don't care what anyone has to say," he said quietly, more to reassure himself than anyone else. Giving Radek and then Rodney a pat on the shoulder, he met up with Beckett to head out. He knew he'd be back later to check on his friends.

TBC