Disclaimer: If they were mine then the episode would have included this and I would not have to write it. Since you are reading it, I wrote it, so therefore they are not mine.
Archive: Sure, but let me know.A/N: Another whumping fic, this time I am trying out the SGA crown and hopefully they will be as supportive as the House, MD crowd. I was so frusturated that no one wrote a tag to Sateda that dealt with Ronon's injuries, espcially since if an episode ended with John, Rodney, or even Teyla passing out there would be at least three fics addressing it the next day. Just because Ronon's got dreadlocks and is over 6ft doesn't mean he is unwhumpable! Anways, I know the ep. was a while ago but I could not let this idea die. If this gets good reveiws, I already have a tag to Common Ground in the works. Anways, I want to show an angstier side of Ronon, without getting out of character, so please let me know if I suceeded. And yes, I am going to invent some more about Ronon's past, but it will fit in snuggly next to what we already know about him. Enjoy!
Rodney hurriedly clambered back into the driver's seat of the Jumper and contacted the Daedalus, letting them know that they were only a few minutes away and that the tracking device was being disabled. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Teyla and John struggling to turn Ronon over and get his shirt off.
Carson took Ronon's pulse while John and Teyla eased off Ronon's armor and shirt. He frowned at the thready, weak beat beneath his fingers and winced as he saw the angry red wound stretching down the runner's already scarred back. He reached into his medical bag and pulled out a syringe with a strong sedative, but hesitated with it in his hand. He then decisively plunged the syringe into the Satedan's neck and administered less then half of the syringe. Normally he would have given a man of Ronon's size almost three times that amount, but Carson suspected a head injury and did not want to push his luck without knowing exactly why Ronon was unconscious.
He swabbed the man's back with alcohol, cleaning away dried blood from the wound. He used a scalpel to carefully retrace the mark down the man's back and extract the device. He gave the tracking device to McKay, who had handed over the driver's seat to Sheppard for the approach and landing. McKay easily deactivated the device and let his glance settle on the unconscious man who suddenly started to seem a little less unconscious.
Carson felt Ronon tense beneath his fingers, heard his low moan, and started cursing all "bloody stubborn lads who just couldn't do as they were told and stay unconscious."
Ronon awoke to fire. His back was burning, a thin line of pain stretching from below his shoulder to his mid back. The wound in his leg throbbed in time to pounding of his head, and a deep ache had settled itself on his shoulder. By far the worse was his chest, and it felt like someone had set off a grenade in his ribcage. He realized that he was lying on his stomach, and tried to roll onto his side to alleviate some of the pressure.
He felt the doctor's gloved hands holding him still and relaxed as much as he could.
"Chest hurts." Ronon muttered blearily, still struggling to shake off the affects of the drug. The same gloved hands, plus Teyla's supporting arm, gently rolled him onto his back. Ronon gasped sharply as his head and shoulder protested the move. Carson, hearing his intake of breath and seeing a grimace mar the man's fierce features, turned away from his patient to grab a syringe of morphine. He moved swiftly and slightly abruptly, not with the usual calm and soothing movements of the normally unflappable doctor.
Ronon used his good arm to prop himself up on his elbow, eliciting a low groan from the injured man. He pointedly ignored Teyla's disproving look. Carson whirled around at the sound, and opened his mouth to protest. Before he could however, Ronon cut him off.
"Hey doc," Ronon said, "you okay?" McKay, Teyla, and, Carson were all taken off guard by the absurdity of the question; here the runner was laying bloodied and bruised and Carson had not even been on the planet. Seeing their open mouthed stares, Ronon elaborated.
"You look..." he paused searching for the correct word, "twitchy."
Carson stared at the Satedan with a mixture of anger, frustration, disbelief, and pity. "Twitchy?" He repeated incredulously. "I'm on a ship, trying to operate on a lad who refuses to remain unconscious, and the bloody Wraith are shooting at us, so excuse me if yes...I am a wee bit twitchy!" Beckett practically yelled. Teyla was taken aback by the doctor's outburst, and by the bright red color Carson's face was turning.
"I believe Ronon was merely commenting that you look slightly more aggravated then usual." Teyla's soothing voice calmed down the irate doctor and he glanced at her apologetically.
"Right lass, thank you."
"We're a minute away Carson." McKay shouted from the cockpit, where he was sitting with John.
"I want a medical team and a stretcher waiting when we get there." Carson shouted back to McKay, ignoring Ronon's absurd protests that he could walk by himself.
Turning back to Ronon, he once again grabbed the syringe and in one swift motion plunged the needle into the big man's arm, fully depressing the plunger. He saw Ronon's startled look quickly turn to one of betrayal before his eyelids closed and he sank back into Teyla's lap.