AN: We're nearly there: just 1 more chapter after this one...
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11
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Rodney rushed through the hallways of Atlantis like the energizer bunny on speed.
Earlier, he had narrowly avoided bumping into Teyla –in truth the active avoiding had been entirely due to Teyla's quick reflexes- …, and just why exactly had she called him and chased him?
He hadn't meant to seem rude, when he had jumped in the transporter and immediately hit the panel before she had had the chance to catch up with him.
Time was simply of the utter essence here, and he was quickly running out of it.
That had become blatantly obvious to him when the hallway lights had suddenly flared up very brightly, lighting up a small section of Atlantis like a facsimile Christmas tree.
Carson's feelings wrecking havoc with Atlantis' sensors.
Any genius could draw the conclusion easily.
After anger came acceptance…
And he had still a long way to run, dragging along an incredibly heavy gizmo with one hand and trying to ignore the fierce pain in his other –injured- arm.
All the way cursing himself for not wearing a head set (originally it had sounded like a good idea to provide a valid excuse to ignore annoying physicians and psychologists), cursing the Ancients for not building more transporters and cursing the Pegasus galaxy for staging such adrenaline robbing events.
Eventually, as per usual, he made it in the nick of time.
At the last possible microsecond before the apocalypse.
"Stop! Carson, don't!" His voice sounded shrill, which he attributed to an utter lack of air in his heaving lungs.
His friend looked up, still holding the syringe he had just inserted in the IV port.
Rodney was incredibly relieved to see the plunger wasn't depressed yet.
"Pull… that thing… out… immediately!" Rodney yelled, panting heavily all the while. "I have…" Taking in a big gulp of air."… a cure!"
Carson blinked several times, apparently somewhat slow on the uptake, waking up from a daydream, but finally realization dawned. His tired blue eyes conveyed his trust in Rodney. For all he knew, it could simply be a lie to overpower him and make sure he didn't harm his comatose patient…
Carson carefully extracted the syringe from the IV and put it on a nearby table, not quite tossing it into the garbage bin just yet.
Wordlessly, he gazed at Rodney, his eyes holding a tiny spark of hope.
Rodney grinned, pleased by Carson's trust in him. Meanwhile, he had finally gathered enough air into his lungs that he estimated he could string several words together without doing an impression of a dying fish.
"This device" He tried to lift it in triumph, but already taxed arm muscles protested painfully and he settle for briefly shaking it, before dropping it gently on a nearby bed. "This device is able of stimulating cell division and growth..." He tapped it fondly. "of any human cells…"
Carson caught on quickly: "Including neurons?" His tone was so hesitatingly hopeful that it cut Rodney right in his heart.
"Yes!" Rodney affirmed, bubbling with barely contained enthusiasm. "I have spent the entire day testing it on cells and later on two of your mice. I even asked Doctor Rogers for her opinion, and –naturally- she agrees with me that it works miraculously without any short-term complications!"
Carson's eyes lit up fully, like a little boy when given candy, and the sight warmed Rodney's heart. "Really? That's wonderful news, Rodney! Of course we'll have to do some testing and get a long-term follow-up study to detect any complications, but…"
Rodney's face fell, and immediately Carson's joy faded.
"I'm sorry, Carson, but we can't wait to try this out." He hung his head. "I noticed too late that the power source was nearly empty, and this technology is unlike any I've ever seen, completely organic with a …" He trailed off.
Damn, it hurt to admit it. "I can't fix it when the energy drops below the critical threshold needed for the device to work…"
The sad imploring look the physician gave him, made Rodney feel as if he had kicked a puppy. Unable to meet the steady probing gaze of those soulful eyes, he looked intently at the softly glowing device under his hand.
"But, according to my calculations, there should be enough energy left for one try on a human subject…"
A hand on his good shoulder caused him to flinch, but the warm grip didn't waver.
"Thank you, Rodney." Carson whispered softly.
He looked up into blue eyes that had regained their full sparkle.
"Thank you for giving me another choice. For believing in a solution after everyone has given up. For being so bloody stubborn as to jeopardise your own health by working yourself in to a right mess…"
The shy smile was typically Carson, giving a glow to his entire face, dimpling his cheeks and lighting up his eyes.
Rodney gave his own trademark crooked grin: "The pot calling the kettle black, huh? That's really rich coming from the guy who spent the last three days indulging in the most obscure voodoo rituals in order to keep my soul from crossing the Styx..." He would never admit it in so many words, but gratitude shone in ever line of his expressive face.
For a moment they both shared a silent understanding.
Then, Carson waved the remaining tension away. "Nah, you'd never pay Charon to get you across by such utterly primitive pretechnological means as a rowing boat. Not to mention you could bark that three-headed dog right in to submission…"
The physician reverently touched the ancient device on the bed, which immediately starting glowing even more brightly then Rodney had ever seen it do before.
"Now, how will we be activating this wee trinket?"
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12
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Carson remembered.
The device lighting up brightly under his hand, the warmth flowing through his body, the gentle guidance from Rodney, the glorious feeling of healing what he had been convinced of had been beyond any repair...
After that, things were more fuzzy.
Rodney had collapsed, the combination of fatigue, hypoglycemia and pain becoming too overwhelming after his last wee bit of adrenaline had ebbed away.
Carson had managed to manoeuvre him onto a bed and start a glucose IV, but then his own body had failed him, spectacularly. He didn't quite remember the actual blacking out, but the disjointed memories he had seen earlier now made sense
Nurse Betty's large concerned tearful eyes as she washed blood of his face. "Oh, Carson, I'm so sorry I didn't check back on you earlier…"
Doctor Biro inserting an IV while muttering mock-angrily about stubborn chief medical officers not taking care of themselves, the sentiment belied by her proud affectionate gaze.
Colonel Sheppard's face looming over his: "Hey, Doc, you did real good. Now try to stay awake for a little bit longer…" displaying disappointment and fear just before the darkness ensnared him again.
The frantic voices of his staff shouting for ampoules of epinephrine and atropine. The low whine of a defibrillator.
The explosion of pain as the electric jolt set all his nerve endings on fire.
"You died, Carson." Rodney confirmed solemnly, the anguish clearly written in haunted blue eyes. "You went into cardiac arrest and for the longest time, they couldn't properly restart your heart…" He swallowed, then tried a lighter note: "Are you sure you're not part Irish, Carson, because you definitely seem to be having their luck?"
Carson grinned weakly in response, but one thing was still lying too heavily on his mind to relax and give in to the beckoning slumber.
"How is Private Reynolds doing?"
Rodney's bright smile proved contagious. "A miracle healing, even if I say so myself! Some more and we can apply for the title of Saint! He's currently sleeping…" The scientist gestured to one of the isolation rooms, "Well, trying to sleep anyway, as he keeps being bothered by half of your staff, who just can't believe it's true until they get to see his readings for themselves. Doctor Biro's incredibly optimistic, blabbering about a full recovery without any lasting damage, which -coming from that morbid woman- is simply saying it all …"
Carson allowed himself to sag deeper into the pillow as his eyelids were loosing their battle with gravity.
An awkward pat on his hand accompanied Rodney's soft "Sweet dreams"
And sweet they were.
AN: Hah! Remember when I was blabbering about the red Jell-O and sunset foreshadowing? You didn't really believe I'd be so cruel as to give Carson (even more than the poor lad already has) nightmares for the rest of his life, now, did you?
