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- Chapter 8 -
"Recognise this?"
The major's sharp voice startled Radek Zelenka almost more than the sudden loud clatter of the gun hitting the table had. He'd been aware that Sheppard's mood had dropped during the investigation of last night's incident, but now the room grew almost bone-chillingly cold.
Radek tried to stay as invisible as possible behind his computer, while glancing nervously at McKay. No matter what, this would not go down easy for any of them.
"That's a gun?" McKay's voice rasped a bit, confusion written all over his face. He had no idea what was going on, but the major's behaviour clearly scared him.
"That's right. It's YOUR gun!"
"Uhm…Major, as much as I would like to play 'I spy' with you, I have much more pressing things to do. So either you tell me what this little scene is all about, or I'm going back to the…"
"Sit down." Small words, but they had the desired effect. Rodney fell back into his chair.
"Carson was shot with your gun."
"What?" Radek watched Rodney visibly pale. "How? I mean why...who?"
Radek had never seen Sheppard so furious, least of all towards Rodney. He was angry, but his whole body language was stiff and controlled, the clenching of both fists and a conscious effort to stay within McKay's personal space the only physical indications of what was to come.
"Tell me about this gun, McKay." Judging from the tone, the major could have been asking about the weather.
"It's a gun. What's there to tell?" Rodney's voice broke; uncertainty and weariness made his eyes appear unnaturally bright.
McKay's seemingly nonchalant answer set something loose, and Sheppard leaned over even further, their noses almost touching. "So, it wasn't you who didn't secure the magazine properly, so that it fell out. It wasn't you who would have got himself killed because of it, if it hadn't been for Teyla. It wasn't you who tried to shoot with a jammed weapon. And it wasn't YOU who knowingly left a DAMAGED weapon, with the SAFETY OFF, like this morning's sandwich, just LYING AROUND."
Rodney's eyes had grown big, all movement of his body ceased with growing understanding.
"Let me show you what there is to tell. Zelenka?" John never lost eye contact with the physicist.
Showing Rodney what had happened seemed so cruel, Zelenka was tempted to argue about it with Sheppard, or, better yet, to just run away and let the man do it himself. But he guessed he just wasn't brave enough. And Dr Weir, still standing in the corner, clearly wasn't about to interfere either, her eyes were downcast however.
"Radek?" Rodney's breathless, fearful voice broke through his thoughts and the engineer found himself the centre of attention.
"Oh, yes, yes." He busied himself on the laptop, taking more time than necessary. All programs had already been running before the major had even gone to the infirmary to fetch McKay. At last he turned the computer around, so that Rodney could see the screen. It was divided into two separate frames, showing frozen images of Rodney on the left and Carson on the right. Both videos clearly showing footage of the security cameras in their lab.
Radek had seen these shots twice already and wasn't sure he could stomach a third round. Propping up his head with his hand, elbow on an armrest and fingers partially covering his eyes, he observed his friend, the only one in the room who hadn't seen the material, yet.
With a click, the left scene started moving.
They could see Rodney walking around, then standing still for a few seconds, back to the camera, so they couldn't see what he was doing, until he turned and threw a gun onto a shelf.
Radek saw the major wince.
Then, after a few more moments, something obviously startled the physicist, and he threw a thick stack of folders right onto the weapon and left the room in a rush.
Before Radek had a chance to stop the video, Sheppard leaned over, stopped the left frame and started the right. Right on cue for Carson to throw a couple of books onto the very same shelf, then suddenly stagger back and fall; bright red blood beginning to stain his shirt.
As glad as Zelenka was that the cameras didn't record sound, it made the happenings almost more horrible to watch. It felt like a black-and-white slapstick silent movie scene from the 30's, only in colour and very real and oh so not funny.
Colour was something now completely missing from Rodney's face, but the major seemed oblivious to it, as he pressed the fast-forward button and made them watch Carson's lonely crawl through the lab, and, replacing the lab scene on the left, through the corridor to McKay's quarters in fast-motion. The little timer in the top right corner happily providing them with proof of just how much time it had taken their injured friend to get to where he was ultimately found. They even watched the door open and close again, before Radek finally had enough and closed the lid of the computer with a snap.
Rodney obviously took that as his cue, shoved the chair he was sitting on back with so much force it toppled over, and ran from the room, hand clasped over his mouth. He didn't quite make it, but Elizabeth, who had stayed in the background so far, handed him a bin; just in time for Rodney to lose everything he had eaten in days.
Sadly, John didn't make a move to help the physicist, as Radek would have expected him to. There was something more going on with the major, but he couldn't place exactly what that was. Instead, he saw the other man exchange a look with Elizabeth; then he simply turned, and, walking around the still heaving Rodney, left.
Radek joined Elizabeth and Rodney on the floor, offering a tissue and a supporting hand on McKay's back.
"I killed him."
"As far as I know, Carson is alive, so how do you think you killed him?" Radek knew kid gloves wouldn't help here, but it earned him a bitter look from Rodney.
"He is… one of my friends is badly hurt, lying in the infirmary, most likely paralysed for the rest of his life. You saw the video. I am responsible." Rodney said that so matter-of-factly that Radek was at a loss as to how to respond, and, before either of them found the right words, McKay wiped his mouth, got up and stormed out.
Elizabeth turned to follow, but Zelenka held her back.
"Let him go."
"But…"
"What would you tell him? … Yes, there is nothing we could say now. Let him come to terms with it first."
"Dr Weir? We could use your help out here." One of the young engineers working in the control room peeked through the door, unsure whether or not to come in.
"I'm coming. Dr Zelenka?"
"Don't worry, I'll look after them."
oOo
He intended on doing just that, but Radek's first stop was the infirmary. He didn't expect to find Rodney there at the moment, but he'd hoped that at least Major Sheppard would be here. However, except for a nurse, who was connecting a new blood-filled bag to a line disappearing in Carson's arm, no-one was there.
Zelenka smiled at her. "How is he?"
Her smile wasn't quite as bright as he had hoped. "Holding his own. We're still having some problems with his blood pressure and infection has set in."
"I see." Radek for some reason felt immensely disappointed by the news, he was more than ready to hear something better. This day had already started out worse than yesterday had ended. "And his legs?"
"I'm sorry, we still don't know more."
The nurse left him to tend to the other patients and the engineer sat down at the edge of the large seat.
"Hi, Carson. You are probably wondering why I'm here and not Major or Rodney. Don't worry, they're both fine and will be here shortly, I'm sure. But they told me to tell you to get better real quick." Sighing deeply, "That would be good for us all…"
He continued talking to the doctor and when he ran out of things to say, he followed the suggestion of one of the passing nurses to cool Carson's head, already burning with fever, with a wet cloth. All the while hoping Rodney or Sheppard would show up. He really liked Carson and saw him as a good friend. But still he knew, the bond between these three was stronger than anything and Carson needed them to be here. Especially now.
But, even after three hours, neither of them had shown up.
Radek was torn between leaving Carson and going to hunt them down, or staying and keeping the restless, feverish man company. When Carson began muttering and moving uncoordinatedly, unfortunately, not his legs, as Radek sadly noticed, he was shooed out by Dr Biro, who already looked like one of her favourite test-subjects. He figured this was his cue to find the others.
oOo
It didn't take long to find Major Sheppard. The hard, painful sound of skin against plastic could be heard as soon as Radek stepped out of the transporter. He crossed the remaining distance to the gym, then waited, arms folded, for Sheppard to sense him.
From the looks of it, this seemed to be a pretty good day for the major to stand a chance at actually beating Teyla for once. Maybe not with sticks, but possibly in hand-to-hand-combat. The punching bag definitely seemed to be losing, being subjected to fast, angry rounds of vicious kicks.
Zelenka stayed silent, until the kicks started to slow and weren't able to swing the bag halfway across the hall with every hit anymore.
He wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. It was an every day occurrence that Rodney needed some ass-kicking and Radek had already gotten a 'masters degree' for that from the rest of his department, after one of the worse bad-McKay-days. But the major usually didn't need that, or whenever he did Dr Weir did a pretty good job with it.
Had he any right to interfere in this case?
But then Radek remembered Carson in the infirmary. Apart from his own staff none of his friends were there with him now and Carson had fought so hard to stay with them; if anything, the tape proved that much. Only now, the two most important people had pretty much deserted him.
"Major."
"Zelenka." Sheppard didn't seem overly surprised to see him here.
"If you don't mind me asking, but what are you doing here?" Radek was proud of his brave approach, but kept his distance.
"What's it look like?" The kicking grew more vicious again.
"Doesn't look like sitting in the infirmary."
Silence. Then, "You had a point for coming here?"
"I have a point for everything I do."
"Good for you, Doc." Sheppard had stopped torturing the punching bag again, and Radek could see the blood running from raw knuckles. Picking up a towel and a small blue bag, the major passed Zelenka to get out the door.
Radek tried to match strides. "Major, I don't know what exactly is wrong. Maybe last days' events are catching up, I don't know. But quite frankly, right now, I don't really care. I see you are here, alive, able to stand, walk, eat and talk. And that tells me, you being here is selfish act. You can be angry with Rodney, if that makes you feel better, but I cannot recall Carson doing anything wrong that deserves being left alone."
For a while, Radek wasn't sure if the major wouldn't just hit him right where he stood. But, after playing the staring game for a minute, John seemed to deflate and suddenly looked very old and very, very tired.
"Okay." Radek barely even heard the mumbled reply, and even when he did he didn't know to what the major had just agreed to. It was too late to ask Sheppard though, since the man had already disappeared into the transporter.
oOo
Finding Rodney proved more of a challenge. Radek looked everywhere he could think of.
The first destination was the lab. He had to swallow the big lump in his throat when he came across the coffee-brown line, running from the door through the corridor before disappearing round a corner. Someone had obviously tried to clean it, but the attempt hadn't been entirely successful.
He wasn't overly surprised not to find McKay in here, but all the computers and equipment were still in the room as well, so the Chief of Science hadn't been back here at all.
The search in the scientist's quarters, the control room and virtually every single balcony in the city had come up void of one Rodney McKay, too, and Radek had long since given up trying to call him on the radio.
The engineer was just about ready to open the cupboards in the mess-hall, when a city-wide call broke the relative quiet of the kitchen.
"Dr McKay, Major Sheppard, please report to the infirmary. I repeat, Dr McKay, Major Sheppard please report to the infirmary."
That could either be very good or very bad. Radek hoped to everything that might listen it would be the former. In any case, now, he had a chance of finding Rodney, provided the stubborn man did what he was told.
Not quite able to suppress the feeling that the call might mean something very bad, Radek hurried towards the nearest transporter.
oOo
Over the years, many of his patients had told him that waking up from a drug-induced sleep was horrible. Now Carson had a front-row seat and couldn't help but agree. It was hard work to fight his way out of the big cotton-texture-like fog in which he seemed to be drowning. And the nice floaty feeling that reminded him of the roller-coaster trip he always had the second he lay down after a night out, started to recede.
The struggle left him breathless and more than once he was tempted to just give in to the comforting blackness. But there was someone talking to him, urging him to keep fighting his way out.
With rising awareness, though, the pain came; and with the pain, the heat. He couldn't place where he hurt, but the heat was starting to suffocate him and Carson tried to move away from it, tried to escape, but he seemed a prisoner inside his own leaden body, trapped somewhere between unconsciousness and the bright world outside.
He felt hands on his body; too many hands. They were moving him, touching him. And it hurt. But then someone was pressing something blissfully cold to his forehead. It felt like heaven. Using the sensation as an anchor to guide him back, Carson, summoning every ounce of energy he had left, finally broke free of the heavy twilight and slowly opened his eyes.
"Look who's finally awake!" Maria beamed down at him with her patented Mexican smile, which turned into a slight frown, when no reaction from her patient was forthcoming.
He wanted to respond to her, but everything seemed to go into slow-motion and he was just so tired and the pain made it hard to think.
"Hursss. Hot."
The smile was back and she seemed to be doing something just outside his field of vision, when the pain slowly dulled to a throbbing he could ignore for the moment. Then the cold cloth was back, cooling his face and neck and he couldn't help but drift away again. The quiet, soothing words from somewhere nearby telling him it was okay to do so, even if he didn't understand what exactly they were saying.
Something woke him again. The sense for the passing of time had deserted him and Carson had no idea if he had been asleep for minutes or days. It had been long enough, however, for the nurse to leave and he was grateful that the cold rag was no longer on his face. He was so cold.
There was that sound again; the one which had woken him up. It was close. Plastic squeaking slightly on the floor, followed by a quiet tapping and the rustling of clothes. Someone was there. It took another monumental effort to open his eyes; the lids seemed even heavier than before. But finally Carson could see through blurry eyes that someone was indeed standing not far away. John Sheppard.
The doctor was grateful to see him here. When neither Rodney nor the major had been there the first time he woke up, he was concerned that something had happened to them as well. And, admitting this made him feel slightly guilty, he just didn't want to be alone. The others were always there for one another, and even when Carson was down with a concussion after the storm, Rodney and Sheppard had popped in for a visit almost every other hour, after pretty much taking up residence in the infirmary for the first night. So they'd be here now, too, and the thought made him more grateful than he liked to admit. The major might even be able to tell him what had happened.
But before Carson had found the strength to alert John that he was awake, and maybe even convince him to pile another five blankets on top of him, Sheppard suddenly turned on his heels and walked away.
A nurse tried to intercept him, but all Carson heard him say was something like "I'm sorry…I… work to do."
And then Rodney came into the room.
The doctor tried to see what was going on, but his energy was running out fast and he closed his eyes and just tried to listen to his friends. Which proved easier by the minute, when the former urgent whispers turned more and more into a shouting match between the two.
"What happened? Is he alright? He isn't…is he?" Rodney.
"No he isn't. No thanks to you, though." Sheppard, this time. More venomous than Carson had ever heard him.
"Major, I…"
"What? You're sorry? That it happened, or that I found out?"
"You know that I would never…that I'd never…" There was something uncharacteristic in Rodney's voice. Was is desperation? Resignation?
"Hell, McKay. We lost 49 people here in the city in the past 70 hours. And that's not even counting Grodin and Ford. They are dead. They died defending Atlantis with all they had. With their LIVES, McKay. They won't come back. And what did you do? You almost got yourself killed with your own stupidity. After everything we've been through, after all the training, you still make…"
"It was a mistake. I know that." Resignation. How weird.
"A mistake is to spell 'science' with a 'z'. Being stupid enough not to secure a magazine equals active suicide; and leaving a weapon lying around with the safety off for anyone to stumble over it, is MURDER."
Carson was still missing too many details about what had happened, but vague memories of Rodney's lab and lying on the ground started to come back to him. Enough to get an idea of what had occurred. No matter what, though, Carson could hear in John's voice, as furious and venom-laden as the words were that came spitting out of the man's mouth, he didn't mean what he said.
Beckett had seen the major's reaction every time he had to tell him that someone else had died. He was grieving, and didn't know another way to vent the stress and overwhelming emotions.
Rodney, however, couldn't see behind the façade.
"You…you can't mean that."
"Like hell I do. Tell me, would Carson be in here if it wasn't for you? Would he be lying in the infirmary in intensive care, fighting for his life and quite possibly being paralysed for the rest of that life if not for you? Tell me, Rodney, would he?"
Carson missed Rodney's response. He was too busy panicking about what he had heard the major say.
Paralysed? No, he wasn't paralysed. He could feel his legs - or could he? Yes, he could definitely feel his right leg, but it was dull and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move it. He could feel his breath coming in shorter and shorter spurts; the oxygen wouldn't quite reach his lungs, even though he pressed the mask with extra force against his face. The panic attack threatened to overwhelm him. Black spots were already dancing in front of his eyes and the pain was back with a vengeance.
"Carson, it's okay, it's okay. Calm down, you're going to be fine." He didn't care who said that, all he wanted was to get out, to stand up, but too many people were holding him down now. Then there was a slight tug on his arm, so slight he almost missed it, and then, there was nothing.