A/N: Sorry for the delay, the muse got distracted. But hoping to keep on track now :). As always, thanks for all the reviews!
In Idle Hands 4?
By Jennamajig
"Oh crap."
From Carson's point of the view, things were not going well and he tried very hard to not think about the last time things hadn't gone well. When he was running around a desperately overcrowded medical ward, trying to save lives that should have never needed saving, yet didn't have a prayer of surviving.
Including Perna. He closed his eyes and willed the image of her blonde head away. Yes, it had been nothing more than a crush, an infatuation, but it had no chance to be explored. To become more as he dared hoped it just might be. He was a silly romantic, he knew, and it often got him hurt. Perna was really no different.
He told himself if he managed to survive this one, he was never going off world again. He was a bad luck charm.
Things had progressed quickly. The woman was angry and guns and men seemed to fall from the sky. Carson feared the Wraith were involved and expected them to rear their ugly heads, but only human foes emerged. The president lay dying, and Carson still couldn't help. That wouldn't change, even if someone shoved a pistol against the back of his head.
Which, of course, was exactly was happened. The vial was waived and fury was unleashed.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. It was no use trying to tell them the Wraith weren't gods. No one listened and Carson didn't know the whole story. He feared he wouldn't like it at all if he. A Wraith had obviously fed on Loren -- there was no doubt about that -- but Carson wondered why. The Wraith built themselves up to these people, had gained their trust and faith. A feeding could shatter such a thing.
Or maybe not. He had no clue.
It didn't matter. He'd watched Major Sheppard fall, hit by a blast from some type of energy weapon. He called out, and turned only to meet a similar fate.
He blinked a moment, then darkness.
--
John's head felt fuzzy.
And hurt. A lot, actually. Throbbed in time to his heart beat and he floated in the darkness, not looking forward to the moment when consciousness would come.
He heard voices. Far away, but definitely voices. Sharp tones, like someone giving orders. There was a bang, like metal against metal and his head protested at the noise.
There was a groan.
For a moment, he thought he had made that sound, but that didn't feel right. He tried to concentrate on it, as the cobwebs started to drift away slowly. His head still hurt like hell, but consciousness had won out. Next stop, opening the eyes.
He pried the right one open first, happy that a ray of painful light didn't hit his pupil. In fact, no light did. It was dark.
No, not completely dark, he realized as his pupil adjusted. There was a very some amount of light. He opened the other eye.
So mostly darkness. Basement, maybe? The walls were concrete -- well, at least he thought so. He threw a hand out blindly towards one.
Hard and smooth. Concrete, all right.
There were bars; typical jail bars that made up the fourth wall of their tiny room. The smallest amount of light came through them, from an unknown spot outside the cell.
Not good.
Captured, his aching brain told him.
No shit.
There was another groan and he shifted his head. He realized he was lying down and that there was another form lying next to him. He reached his hand out and touched short hair, somewhat matted and dirty. If only he could turn and…
Success. His eyes adjusted to his new position and tried to identify the shape in front of him. It was a man, shorter than he was he calculated.
Another groan. Then:
"Major Sheppard."
The words were so soft he could barely make then out. John pushed an elbow under him and propped himself up. His head swam alarmingly a second and he pushed back the threat of nausea. Finally they settled and he looked down.
"Beckett?" he asked and the figure shifted. A hand reached out and Sheppard figured Beckett probably had the same headache he did.
"Aye." Again the reply was soft.
"Head hurt?" Another groan was his answer. "I'll take that as a yes." He managed to push himself up against the wall and sat up completely, using the wall as support. Beckett blinked owlishly at him. Or at least he thought the doctor did, the light from outside didn't actually help distinguish such features.
"What happened?" Sheppard ventured. "Things went crazy…" Did they? To be honest, he couldn't remember a damn thing. With his headache, he was surprised he remembered his own name.
"I don't know," Beckett responded and Sheppard was happy to note that he voice was louder this time. John didn't know anything about medicine, so the less the physician was injured, the better.
"I was working in my lab, I think," Beckett continued. "You came and asked me…well, to be honest, I don't remember." There was a pause. "My head hurts."
Sheppard sighed. "Mine, too. Think you can sit up? There's a wall right behind your head."
"I can try." There was some shuffling and more groaning, but Beckett managed to prop himself up and find the wall. Some he was sitting next to John. "I think I might be sick."
"Just take deep breaths. It'll fade it a minute." He heard the Scot breathing heavily and hoped his advice would work. This was a small space and he didn't relish the thought of sharing it with vomit. Finally Carson seemed to settle.
"Better?"
He saw the man nod his head and then grimace. "Yes. Where are we?"
Sheppard looked out towards the light. "I have no idea."
--
Rodney was frustrated. He and Zelenka had managed to piece together the weapon and had even fired it, but without a human trial there was no telling exactly what the gun did.
It appeared to stun, not to kill, which thankfully, was a very good thing or the Major would be toast, but the beam was structurally different.
The particles emitted differed from the normal Wraith weapon and even after staring at them, Rodney wasn't exactly sure what they were capable of besides stunning "prey." The slight variance led him to believe it did something else in addition to paralyzing the victim, but it would take more time to find out what.
Unfortunately, time was of the essence. At least he was used to it. They'd awakened a whole galaxy of Wraith and since that moment he expected them to come knocking on Atlantis' door any moment. Then he'd be expected to find some magical switch that made them disappear or something.
The life of a scientist.
"No, is different." Zelenka was off in a corner, muttering with someone about trigger switches. Rodney just stared at his computer screen.
They hadn't really known what a Wraith stunner did until one hit someone in the face – namely him. Carson did all his tests and proclaimed that he'd be fine. It was rather like a Zat weapon on Earth.
Yet, two shots and those killed.
There was no telling what the Wraith were capable of.
He sighed and hit print, grabbed the sheets as they rolled out and headed to Elizabeth's office.
--