Chapter 2.
Thank you for the wonderful reviews! Thanks to my beta, Kodiak for her wonderful editing skills and tremendous support. All mistakes are my own.
As I struggled to breathe, I managed to wheeze a complaint, "Sheppard! Get the hell off me, I can't breathe." Still, he remained motionless on top of me. I summoned all my strength to push him off, succeeding after what seemed like an eternity. As I pushed him, shots rang out, hitting the ground around us.
Ronon suddenly burst from the cover of the trees, firing methodically at the cliffs and surrounding area, Teyla firing from the cover of the forest. How he managed to drag me, and a now mobile Sheppard to the relative safety of the wooded area was beyond me, but he did just that.
As I slumped to the ground I felt the pain in my arm ignite. I groaned as I looked at Ronon and Teyla in disbelief.
"My arm. I'm bleeding!" I cried out in astonishment, as I looked at my blood-soaked sleeve "I think Sheppard broke at least two of my ribs when he tackled me!" I complained.
It was at that moment I looked at Sheppard for the first time. Ronon had sat him down propped up against a tree, while he moved to fuss over Teyla, whose head was bleeding, a line of blood slowly trickling down the side of her face.
I suddenly noticed that Sheppard hadn't uttered a word and that he was sitting upright, eyes half-closed, panting in shallow breaths. Thinking that he had hurt his ribs too, I looked at him and gave him a piece of my mind, "Hah! That's what you get for being a human shield. Broken ribs hurt, don't they?" I asked, knowing full well that neither of us had really damaged them seriously.
My anger quickly dissipated, when he didn't reply in his usual laconic tone, but instead whispered, "Ungrateful bastard," before coughing and hunching over.
It was then my eyes wandered down to the side of his chest nearest to me, and I noticed his hand clenched against the gap in his vest, blood oozing through his fingers.
"Oh God, you're bleeding! What's wrong, why are you bleeding?" I asked, concern instantly hitting me.
Turning his head to look at me, Sheppard half-smiled, before hoarsely answering in a patronising voice, "When you get shot you bleed, Rodney." He squinted at me, obviously noticing the blood on my arm. "You okay? Your arm's bleeding," he asked in concern, his voice sounding a little breathless.
"Ah, I got shot too," I numbly replied, instantly realising Sheppard's wound looked a lot more serious than my graze. I moved over to him, and my gaze shifted to Teyla and Ronon. Teyla was sitting on the ground, a field dressing pressed to her temple.
"I am fine, Ronon. Please check on the colonel and Rodney," I heard her say.
Ronon walked over to me, gun at the ready, and eyed my wound and just snorted, obviously dismissing my injury as insignificant. He crouched next to Sheppard, unzipping his vest and jacket, and lifted his black t-shirt, nudging Sheppard's hand out of the way. I saw the Satedan grimace as he weighed up the severity of the wound, gently prodding around the area with his fingers.
"McKay," he growled, "Get me a field dressing from your rucksack – now."
I sat there, feeling numb as his words washed over me. This couldn't be happening, I distantly thought.
"McKay, I need that dressing NOW!" he shouted at me.
I fumbled in my rucksack, and handed him a dressing, and watched as he pressed it firmly into Sheppard's side, flinching as I heard Sheppard's soft moan.
I watched as Sheppard looked into Ronon's face. "How bad?" he simply asked.
Ronon grunted. "Bad. Looks like it's shattered a rib, probably done a bit of damage internally too. You finding it hard to breathe?"
Sheppard smiled, and it was then that I noticed his usually pearly white teeth were flecked with streaks of bright red blood. "Yeah, a little," he whispered hoarsely, before he doubled over and coughed, a fine mist of blood spraying into the air around him.
"Oh my God," was all I could manage to say.
"S'okay, Rodney. I've had worse," he answered, trying to reassure me, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He always did that in moments of crisis. He forgot about himself, and just made sure everybody else was okay. Guilt washed over me, as I realised I'd chastised him for knocking me down, when he'd saved me from a bullet which had had my name on it. Why did he always have to be so self-sacrificing? Didn't he realise that putting himself in danger to save me was hurting me more than any bullet ever could have?
"What about the shooter?" Sheppard paused, taking a few shallow breaths, "Any idea how many up there?" he asked Ronon. I noticed he was starting to sound wheezy.
"Saw at least two, probably more. They're bound to be on the move. We need to get out of here. Can you move?" he asked.
Sheppard managed a soft laugh, before wincing in pain, "No. Go back to the 'gate and get help. Take Teyla and Rodney with you," he ordered.
"I'll stay with him," I said to Ronon. "You and Teyla go. I won't leave him behind."
Sheppard grimaced, anger showing on his pale features. "You'll do what I damn well say, McKay," he managed to grind out.
Teyla interrupted our little disagreement. "I will go and bring help. It is a short distance. Ronon will stay here. You will need him to protect you."
Ronon nodded. "Agreed. You okay to do this?" he asked Teyla.
"My wound is not serious. I will be fine," she answered, and smiled down at Sheppard, before running through the forest towards the 'gate.
"McKay, you need to put your hand here," he gestured towards the dressing pressed against Sheppard's side, "And press firmly. We need to stop the bleeding."
I took my shaking hand and placed it where Ronon's had been. He looked briefly around, before looking at Sheppard.
"I need to sit you up a bit. Want to see if the bullet's still in you, okay?" he asked the colonel.
Sheppard just nodded weakly.
"I'll need your help, McKay. Can you manage with your arm?" he nodded in the direction of my bloody sleeve.
"Yes. It's only a graze," I somewhat stoically answered. Yes, I have always been… a little over zealous in my desire to have my injuries and illnesses not over-looked, but this time my only concern was for my friend. Sheppard and his much-lauded 'high threshold for pain' -and didn't that just make the nurses swoon - was regularly thrown in my face, by Carson. Our resident voodoo expert would hold the brave colonel up as a shining example of the perfect patient, that is, until he was invariably caught attempting to make his escape from Carson's clutches. When that happened, suddenly I became the model patient. Oh, the irony!
We lifted Sheppard forward between us, even with my injured arm complaining loudly, as Ronon felt behind Sheppard, and then gently lowered him back to his former resting place.
Ronon looked at me. "Bullet's still in there," he said nonchalantly.
"Is that good or bad?" I asked. I had no idea what difference, if any, that would make.
"Could be lodged somewhere dangerous," he answered.
Sheppard chose that moment to cough again. This time more blood sprayed from his mouth, and I watched as he closed his eyes in pain, re-opening them to slits, before whispering, "Listen…Go. Now. Leave me."
"Just shut the hell up, Sheppard. We go together, or not at all," I told him.
Ronon suddenly turned his head, sniffing the air, rather like a tracker dog that'd suddenly found a scent. "They're on the move. I can track them down. Stay here, I won't be long," he mumbled, before running silently off.
I immediately got my 9 mil out at the ready. All of those gun-toting sessions with Sheppard had better have worked, I thought to myself.
"R'dney," Sheppard slurred. "I'm…ordering you to go. Can't move…jus' go," he ground out, stopping to draw in rattled breaths as he spoke.
"I won't leave you, so just shut the hell up." It's possible I may have whined a little when I told him that.
The field dressing was saturated with blood, and rummaging awkwardly in my vest with my injured arm, I found a new one, and pressed it down on top of the old dressing. Sheppard hissed in pain.
"Sorry," was all I could think to say. I was in charge of him now. With Teyla and Ronon both gone, it was up to me to protect Sheppard, and as I anxiously scanned the trees around us, I wasn't exactly sure I was up to the job.
A sudden crack of a snapping twig had me spinning around, gun at the ready, my hand immediately leaving Sheppard's wound, as I was faced with a very angry looking Genii soldier, gun pointed directly at me. All I could think was, what would Sheppard do? Without any more thought, I pulled the trigger, aiming for the soldier's chest, just like Sheppard had taught me. The look of shock on the Genii's face was priceless, though I'm sure it wasn't as wonderful a sight as the expression on my face. I'd actually hit the man. Those sessions had taught me something, after all.
Now in professional grunt mode, I ran over to the Genii soldier, and kicked his gun away, before looking at him. Dead. He was obviously dead- eyes staring lifelessly up at me. I ran back to Sheppard to see him grinning.
"Nice. Riggs'd be proud," was all he managed to choke out, his inane Lethal Weapon joke completely not hitting its mark.
I had returned to my job as nurse, pressing the wound again, when I noticed Sheppard's breathing was really starting to sound raspy. I could hear a gurgle in his exhale, and guessed his lung was probably filling up with blood.
For the first time on this mission I was terrified, really terrified. Yes, I'd been scared when the attack happened, concerned when I realised Sheppard had been shot. Certainly, I had felt fear when the Genii soldier appeared. But now, I felt terror as I realised I didn't know how to help Sheppard. He was drowning in his own blood, and I knew Carson would become the MacGyver of the medical world, and fashion a chest tube out of a pen, or something equally as ridiculous, if he were here. But he wasn't. I was, and I didn't have a clue what to do. I mean, what good was it being a genius, if you couldn't stop your best friend from bleeding to death internally? Especially when it was your fault that he was injured in the first place.
"Try and breathe slowly," I told Sheppard, not having any idea if that was the right thing to say. I had to at least attempt to show Sheppard I was in control, and taking care of him, when giving comfort was hardly my forté.
Sheppard just smiled weakly at me, struggling to draw oxygen into his lungs. He suddenly coughed violently, this time splattering blood down the front of his vest, before collapsing to the ground. I quickly moved to help him, and saw the fear in his eyes, as he choked on his blood. He gave me a final look, before his eyes closed and he exhaled. I thought he'd finally lost consciousness - until I realised he was no longer breathing.
Then I really panicked. I muttered to myself over and over, "Shit, shit…what do I do?" Then I remembered the basic first-aid training Carson had insisted we all endure. I felt Sheppard's neck for a pulse, and was relieved to find a pulse, albeit thready and erratic. At least it was there. I knew if I didn't do something promptly, it wouldn't be for much longer, so I instinctively turned Sheppard on to his back, tilted his head back, pinched his nose, and blew into his bloody mouth. Three times I repeated the exercise, until I was rewarded with a spluttering cough as he expelled more blood from his airway. I nearly gagged as I witnessed the gory sight in front of me. I've never tolerated the sight of blood well, and there was plently of it here for me to ogle. Sheppard had started to breathe noisily again, but I knew it was only a matter of time before resuscitation would be futile. He needed the blood drained from his chest, and I didn't know how to do it.
As if I didn't already feel bad enough, I was suddenly aware of the tackiness of drying blood on my face, and I jerkily rubbed at the blood that had smeared from his face onto mine. This was really turning into possibly the worst moment of my life, I thought.
That was until I was aware of the eerie silence. He'd stopped breathing again. Cursing, I again attempted resuscitation, but this time he didn't cough. He didn't move at all. I knew it was useless. I'd suffered something I rarely had experienced in my life – failure. I'd failed to keep Sheppard alive.
Tbc.