- Chapter 16 -
3:47. - a.m., of course.
Tick…tick……tick………tick.
Three, two, one…
3:48. - Still a.m.
Tick…tick……tick………tick.
He was sure he could hear it ticking, the small digital clock on the bottom right of his computer screen.
The quiet of the room was absolute, with the exception of a slight humming sound of the small lamp that was illuminating three quarters of Rodney's desk.
And the ticking of the clock.
He wondered why he'd never heard it before, because right now, the sound was deafening.
46, 45, 44, 43,… The seconds towards 3:49 passed by slower and slower.
He should probably go to bed.
Sliding his feet off the desk, Rodney rubbed the small of his back where it had stiffened over the last 92.4 minutes that he had sat motionlessly; watching three of the four digits of the clock change gradually, and continuing to count down the seconds in his head.
What Sheppard said had helped. A bit. But Rodney still could not shake the feeling of responsibility. Peter was dead and Beckett was still lying in the infirmary. It didn't matter how good the prognosis was, Carson was paralysed right now, couldn't even sit up without help.
Biro had kept Rodney overnight and, with the help of strong drugs, he had slept almost till noon. Carson had been awake then; more or less anyway. He seemed okay, had told Rodney repeatedly that he didn't blame him, not his fault, blahblah. But what Carson failed to see was that Rodney blamed himself. It was his fault after all.
Carson's condition had slowly started to improve, and if things went the way the other doctors hoped, then they would get their CMO into surgery to remove the bullet within the next day.
After being officially released to his quarters, Rodney had hung around a while longer. Blanket wrapped tightly around his still slightly trembling shoulders, he sat next to his friend's bed. During the short time the doctor was awake, Carson did most of the talking. Rodney just didn't really know what to say except "sorry" repeatedly until Carson told him to "Whisht now", which confused him into speechlessness.
Not once, though, had Carson mentioned anything about the possibility of being paralysed, and Rodney didn't want to bring it up himself. He was more than happy with the discussion about last week's roast beef.
It was unbelievable how well his friend had taken the situation. Were it reversed he didn't know if he could be so forgiving; Carson had even been the voice of reason in a match between John Sheppard and himself, while it should have been their responsibility to - at the very least - help him through this terrifying situation, keep his spirits up, be his friends.
Another thing to feel guilty about.
But no. Self pity wasn't doing any good any more. Not that it ever had, but it was generally a comfortable and quick way out of difficult situations.
'Difficult situation', that was a euphemism if ever he'd heard one.
He hadn't wanted to leave Carson alone again, but soon enough, his own body had demanded more sleep, and one of the nurses had ushered him back to his quarters to rest. But once again, sleep had eluded him, and a couple of hours later he was back in his lab, hoping to get some work done.
Rodney leaned forward a little and the back of the chair moved with him, until it was upright again. Resting two forearms on his knees, he let his eyes drift around without really seeing anything.
Until they settled on his shoes.
When he'd arrived in the lab, he was in good spirits, maybe not exactly happy, but still feeling intensely relieved. For a couple of hours he had worked silently alongside Radek, disturbed only by a few requests for help from his fellow scientists.
After Radek and the others had finally called it a night, Rodney had also started to close all running programs, hoping to get some sleep now. However, once everything was taken care of and all that was left to do was shut the computer down, something kept him. For some reason he had to wait for the 2:16 to turn into 2:17. And so he had stayed sitting in the chair.
He hadn't given it much thought when he had entered the room, but looking down on the floor now, he noticed something dark next to one of the table legs. Wetting his index finger, Rodney wiped over the small stain, then rubbed thumb and index finger together. Both came away slightly pink.
Blood.
Carson's blood.
That's when it hit him. This was the very room, where it had actually happened.
Looking more closely now he saw more dark stains. Points sometimes, but mostly smears.
He could follow the trail. Not easily by any means, the cleaning brigade had done a pretty thorough job in erasing the evidence, but some places had been missed.
There, next to the drawer was a spot, and underneath that chair another one. There, on the doorstep was quite a lot and outside in the hall, too; he could see it from his position in the doorway. He saw the drops, the smears, the fingerprints,… the desperation and the determination.
Carson had succeeded in the end. Who knew how much longer it would have taken them to find him if he'd stayed in the lab?
Looking down the hall, Rodney leaned his head against the doorframe, hands buried in his armpits and biting his already brittle upper lip until it was bleeding.
Carson had made it. That was what counted right now and Rodney swore to himself he would not abandon him again, no matter what the next day would bring. But as it seemed, Carson already handled it all very well, better than anyone had expected after the first 'incident'. He was strong. He would be fine. He had to be.
Coming to a decision, McKay straightened up and went back to his desk. Quickly disconnecting the laptop and switching off the lamp, he took the computer and left the room again. A glance at his watch confirmed that it had just passed 4 o'clock. Most people were already asleep, or rather still asleep, and the infirmary would be almost empty, but Rodney wanted to check on Carson again before going to bed.
For some weird reason, seeing the blood now had had a calming effect on him. It no longer reminded him too painfully of what he'd done, but was evidence that they had beaten the odds again.
He smiled.
oOo
Rodney wasn't surprised not to pass anyone on his way to the infirmary. Lights had been subdued to give the appearance of night even to the parts of the city not illuminated by sunlight. Crossing two sections, he soon arrived at the infirmary door, which opened with a quiet hiss.
As Rodney had expected, the infirmary was dark, except for a small desk lamp at the nurses' station and some warm light filtering in from Carson's office, where the nurse on duty was obviously just sharing a cup coffee and some quiet conversation with someone Rodney couldn't see.
Only silence enveloped the large room apart from the whispered sounds coming from the office. The physicist involuntarily concentrated on what was being said, but only shreds were audible. He didn't want to, but he strained his ears to hear more. The regular beeping sounds that got louder the closer he got to the bed in the slightly separated part of the room retreated into the background of his consciousness.
What he couldn't hear from the conversation was substituted by the buzzing noise of silence swooshing in his ears, and he almost missed another, less, or maybe more familiar sound coming from his intended destination.
Not knowing what to do, Rodney stopped and simply looked around the corner of the mobile partition at the bed in the middle, but didn't proceed into the cubicle.
Carson was crying.
But doing his best to stifle any noise by biting down on a piece of blanket, with one hand holding more of it over his mouth.
He did a good job. Rodney hadn't been able to hear it until he had been almost next to the curtain. Now, though, the sound was unmistakable and impossible to miss. Rodney was torn between giving the doctor privacy, giving in to his own urge to run away and leave someone else to deal with that, or going in to try to be a friend and taking the risk of creating a very awkward situation for both of them.
He probably would have left hadn't it been for the one sob that Carson just wasn't able to swallow. It was heartbreaking to witness. Rodney placed the computer on the floor, moved silently into the cubicle and slowly sat down on the bed, trying not to startle Carson, who had his eyes squeezed shut. He wasn't entirely successful, and the doctor suddenly opened his eyes in alarm, choking a little on another sob he couldn't hold back.
Not having the right the words to say, Rodney simply looked into Carson's tear-filled eyes and grasped the doctor's right forearm in silent support. Carson's first response was to quickly wipe away the evidence of his weakness, but when the warm hand just stayed where it was and his gaze was calmly held, the tears kept coming faster and the sobs got louder; not loud enough to alert anyone else for the moment, but loud enough to cut deeply into Rodney.
oOo
Rodney had no idea how long he simply sat there, holding his friend's hand and squeezing his forearm; offering nothing but his presence. Long enough, however, to feel the sting in his back from sitting in the uncomfortable position for too long. It didn't matter, though.
At one point the sobbing had grown loud enough to attract attention of the nurse, but with a simple look from the physicist she had left again. Carson hadn't even realised she'd been there.
In the end exhaustion won over and the tears dried. Abandoning his seat on the bed, Rodney moved over to the small nightstand and wet a cloth in the water-filled basin. The fever had broken some time ago, but the doctor's face was red and hot from exhaustion. Carson had fallen into a light slumber, but opened bloodshot eyes when the cold rag was gently wiped over his forehead and face.
"Sorry", the one word was spoken so softly that Rodney almost missed it.
"For being human or for finally admitting it?" His tone held no accusation and he was careful to keep any trace of the usual sting out of his voice.
"Didn't want you to see…"
"Didn't want me to see what, Carson? That you're scared out of your mind? That you'd love to run away and hide?" He winced at his own poor choice of words, Carson just continued to avoid looking at him. "Come on, you know I'm scared of pretty much everything most of the time. And if I could have, I would have hidden in the darkest, soggiest swamp on the mainland, from the moment we detected the Hive ships. What's the big deal? If it helps then cry, yell, scream, bitch and moan. Works for me."
He waited a few moments for the words to sink in, then posed the one question he simply could not understand.
"By the way, one question. Why are you trying to protect me? Me of all people? Hell, Carson, you're not supposed to care about anyone besides yourself right now."
"Thought, you needed it."
And he had. Second screw-up in as many days. "No. I was a moron and what I needed was a kick in the ass, not supporting words from the man I nearly got killed." Sensing the tired man was about to object, Rodney quickly stopped him. "Shut up! No matter what you or anyone else says, Sheppard was right: if it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't be in this situation and we wouldn't be having this conversation.
I will have to live with this for the rest of my life. But this isn't about me feeling guilty right now. This has to be about you using your Scottish stubbornness to get through this. And when you do, then we all…then I will. You got that?"
Rodney sensed that at least some of his words had gotten through.
Carson could now barely keep his eyes open and his emotions were plain on his face. Nervously he clenched and unclenched his fists. Pressing his lips together tightly to stop the new tears that were already filling his eyes, from falling, he finally admitted in a whisper, "I'm so scared."
Softly pressing the now only moist rag against the doctor's cheek, Rodney gently forced Carson to look at him. "I know. And I wish I could tell you everything is going to be alright. Believe me, I really, really wish I could. But what I can promise you is that you won't be alone. We'll be here. Understand?... Carson?"
Rodney saw how much effort it took Carson to keep his eyes open, but he wouldn't have it. "Understand?" he repeated with more force.
"What if I… if I…"
"We'll deal with it. Heck we're living in a city built by ascended beings of a higher plane of existence" a bit of sarcasm never hurt. "- on a side note: with a very questionable interest in Scottish sheep herders and American kamikaze pilots in dire need of a haircut. - Plus you have the most brilliant man in two galaxies at your service; I'll figure something out. That's a promise."
The smallest of smiles appeared on Carson's face and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Okay."
Once McKay was sure his friend had fallen asleep, he wrapped both arms around himself and stared at his own feet. What if he couldn't keep that promise? Torturing his upper lip further, he tried to keep it together while sinking down onto the chair next to the bed. No longer able to look at Carson, he buried his head in the crooks of his arms and pillowed them on the mattress. With an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he too, finally fell asleep just as the first rays of another day sparkled brightly on the ocean surrounding them.
- Chapter 17 -
Something startled Rodney awake. Looking around in confusion for the possible source, he could see the only twilight-lit outline of John Sheppard at the foot of the bed. He hadn't been asleep for long.
"Hi."
"Uh…hi. You're up early." Rodney blinked rapidly several times and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes to adjust them to the dim light.
"So are you."
Smart ass. "Not by choice."
Sheppard gave him a smug look that clearly stated just how sorry he was. Rodney returned a sour look, which was cut short when Carson furrowed his brows and sluggishly moved in his sleep, moaning slightly. He was obviously in pain.
The major started to walk away to get someone, but was intercepted by an approaching nurse, the one from last night. Backing away from the bed in order to give her room to work, the physicist wondered just how much the woman had heard last night, if that soft noise had been enough to attract her attention.
The pain meds she administered seemed to help and Carson settled down again.
When she had finished checking him over, the nurse turned to the other two men. "His vitals are good. Dr Biro will be here shortly for a last check. If all goes well we'll be prepping Dr Beckett for surgery soon."
True to her word, the resolute doctor appeared less than minute after the nurse had left again. Not for the first time, McKay wondered how someone so small could make so much noise without really producing any.
In her usual fashion, she pushed past Sheppard and McKay before either had a chance to make a strategic retreat. She busied herself readying her stethoscope and was about to lift Carson's white gown, when she noticed the two men still standing behind her. "Gentlemen?"
Was that an insult, a request, an order or a simple statement? In any case, her voice spoke of dire consequences. Sheppard acted immediately and pushed McKay out before leaving himself. "We'll just wait outside then."
"Much appreciated."
"We can't just leave Carson." Rodney was bright enough to keep his voice down and waited until they were outside the cubicle.
"We're not leaving him, Rodney, we're just giving him some privacy. Besides you of all people should be quiet. You're already on top of Biro's list of preferred candidates for a Y-incision."
Looking for an appropriate response, but coming up empty, McKay settled for folding his arms and huffing in indignation.
It didn't take long for the small woman to finish her examination. Scribbling notes on the chart she was carrying, Biro hurried away without even a sideways glance at either Sheppard or McKay.
"Hey!" That earned him a bony elbow in the side. "Ouch."
"Doc? How's he doing?" Sheppard had caught up with the pathologist.
"Ah, Major." She continued walking, not looking up once from the chart. "As well as can be expected. Still a little too weak for my liking, but I believe he's strong enough for the surgery. We'll prep him shortly. If you'd excuse me." Not waiting for a response, she disappeared into another room.
"Lovely woman."
McKay had to agree, then quickly followed the major back behind the partition. He wasn't surprised to see Carson awake, however barely.
"Hey, Doc. How's it going?"
Carson didn't respond, but licked his dry lips and looked longingly at the water glass on his nightstand.
"Sorry, Carson, but I don't think you can have any before the surgery." Sheppard apologised.
"Huh? Oh, right."
The doctor looked worn out, white as a sheet and visibly trembling. Worse than the day before; Rodney feared it had to do with yesterday's events and hoped Biro was right with her diagnosis that he would be strong enough to handle surgery.
John sat down on the bed, just as Rodney had a couple of hours ago. Lightly tapping Carson on the shoulder to get his attention, the major got comfortable on the mattress. "Everything will turn out great, you'll see. When you get out, we'll have steak and potatoes ready, with lots of gravy. And don't forget the beer! And chocolate chip ice cream with caramel topping as dessert. How's that sound?"
"Heart attack waiting to happen?" Carson's smile was small but genuine.
"Not for us picture-of-health-people. And we won't share with Rodney." His pfffting in the background was ignored. "Just the two of us and maybe Teyla and Elizabeth for some pretty company."
"Sounds terrific."
"See? Told ya, there are always things to look forward to."
"I guess." Doubt and uncertainty crept back into the doctor's haggard face and it was clear to both John and Rodney that he had something else on his mind.
"You want haggis? Sorry, Doc, but my sympathy for you doesn't quite go that far."
Carson snickered and ended up wincing slightly when his stitches pulled. Quickly, though, his face grew serious again, showing uncertainty that made him look even more fragile. "Will you be here?"
Rodney turned purple in embarrassment and looked on the floor, whereas John's face showed surprise first, before he, too, suddenly found the ground very interesting. They really had screwed up. Big time, if the doctor felt the need to specifically ask that question.
Carson, however, misinterpreted their reaction. "I mean…uh…sorry, of course, you have a lot to do. I didn't…"
"Of course, we'll be here. No place else to be. Right, McKay?" John looked straight into Carson's eyes.
"Absolutely." The physicist had been slower to recover, but his answer was just as confident as the major's.
All three men's attention was drawn back, when a young nurse came into the room. "Major Sheppard, Dr McKay. Sorry to interrupt, but I have to start preparing Dr Beckett for surgery now."
"Sure. We'll get out of your hair. Behave yourself, Carson and I'll put a six-pack in the fridge."
"'d prefer Single Malt."
"We'll have both." Growing serious again, the major smiled down kindly and squeezed his friend's hand "Don't worry, everything will be fine!"
Rodney was once more at a loss for words. He couldn't quite share the major's unwavering confidence, but did his best not to let it show. Replacing John at the bed, he also gave Carson's hand an encouraging pat. "Listen to the man with the silly haircut. He's long overdue to get something right, so statistical probabilities work in your favour. …We'll be waiting."
No longer able to keep the worry and concern out of his voice and face, Rodney quickly turned around and left with the major, who was waiting for him.