Payback
A Stargate Atlantis story by Deana Lisi
Disclaimer: I don't own Carson (boo hoo) or any other SGA character.
Tag to the episode, 'The Eye'.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Carson blinked his eyes, wondering how he'd suddenly ended up sitting in a chair in front of an ancient console in the Control Room. The last thing he remembered was getting smashed in the face with...something. Oh yeah, he remembered two people practically dragging him down a corridor, too. He blinked again, realizing that his sight was blurred. Rodney was to his left, he finally noticed, talking animatedly, as usual. He hardly understood a word.
But then, the voices stopped, and everyone looked relieved.
What seemed like both an eternity later and a mere second, Dr. Weir's face was suddenly in front of his own. "Carson?" she said, sounding worried.
Carson realized that she'd called him more than once. He tried to answer her, but "Huh?" was all that came out.
"Let's get you to the infirmary," she said, taking his arm.
He let her pull him up, but his legs didn't want to hold him.
"John!" Elizabeth exclaimed, when the doctor sagged.
Sheppard rushed over and took Carson's other side, while Rodney left his laptop and took over from Elizabeth.
"Come on, doc," said John. "Looks like you get to be the patient instead of the doctor this time."
Carson's only answer was a sniff from his bloody nose, which he regretted when it caused his poor abused face copious pain.
"I'm so sorry," they suddenly heard.
Rodney looked towards the voice, seeing Sora standing near Teyla. "You did this?"
She nodded, looking contrite.
"Forget it," John told him. "Let's just get him out of here."
Rodney started walking again, and they helped the injured doctor out of the room.
"Hey Carson," said Rodney.
"Wha?" he said.
"You got beat up by a girl?"
"Shuddup."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The walk to the infirmary took quite a while. Carson's vision was blurred and skewed often, and his head and face throbbed like there was no tomorrow. He was gaining a little more lucidity though, and managed to remember what had happened.
They entered the door, to find the infirmary empty of people.
Realization dawned on Rodney's face. "Everyone evacuated! There's no doctors here!"
"No kidding," said John. They brought Carson over to a bed and gently laid him down.
"Crap!" said Rodney, looking at his arm, which had stopped bleeding a while ago. "Who's gonna take care of my wound?"
"Rooooodney," John warned, rolling his eyes before looking at Carson. "Doc, tell us what to do for you."
Carson's eyes were closed, in relief at no longer being upright.
When he didn't answer, John shook his arm. "Doc! You better not be thinking of going to sleep..."
Rodney walked around the infirmary, looking for inspiration. The sight of a long, thin object caught his attention, and he grabbed it and dashed over to the bed.
John watched as Rodney fumbled with the tiny device, before apparently getting it working.
The scientist bent over and, with a grin that he couldn't hide, lifted one of Carson's eyelids, shining the dreaded penlight.
"Ack!" Carson exclaimed, covering his eyes. "Wha? Why'd ya... why... oooooh..."
Rodney, despite the obvious pain that he'd caused his friend, didn't look as contrite as he should have. "That's what you would've done!" he said.
"Ooooooh..."
John shot a dark expression at Rodney. "Now is not the time for revenge!"
"Sure it is!" Rodney countered. "We might not ever get this chance again!" He regretted the words as soon as he said them, or rather; he wished he hadn't said them aloud.
John shot his arm out in front of Rodney and pushed him back, before bending over Carson's groaning form. "Carson, we—or at least, I—want to help you. Is your nose broken? Do you think you have a concussion?"
Carson still had his hands covering his eyes. "Aye," he groaned.
"Which one?" John asked, patiently.
"Concussion," Carson answered.
"Rodney," said John, in his commando-voice. "Get some stuff to clean the blood off him. Oh, and a puke bucket too, just in case."
Rodney made a disgusted face, but wordlessly obeyed.
"Talk to me, Carson," said John. "Tell me what happened."
"Sora hit me with somethin'," he said, lowering his hands from his eyes, which remained closed. "I think I hit m'head on the floor."
"Should I check for a bump?" John asked.
Carson tried to nod, but winced instead.
John tried to be gentle, but Carson flinched when fingers found the egg on the back of his head. "Sorry, doc. Yeah, you got a pretty big one back there. Feels like it bled, too."
"What's he got?" Rodney asked, returning with the supplies.
John looked at him, making a puzzled face at the bandage that was crudely wrapped around the scientist's arm, over his jacket. Genius? he thought. Yeah right. More like 'retard'. "He's got an egg on his head."
"Oh." Rodney handed John a wet towel, but John raised his eyebrows at him.
Sighing, Rodney saw that he was about to be punished for his earlier 'revenge'. Carefully, he wiped at the blood on his friend's face.
"Rodney?" Carson suddenly said, eyes still closed.
"Yeah?"
"You okay?"
A stab of guilt over the penlight incident pierced his stomach. "Yeah, Carson," he said. "I'm fine. Just get better, okay?"
"Okay," Carson said, his voice sounding dreamy.
John reached over and shook his arm again. "Wake up, doc."
"Mmm..." he said, before flinching at Rodney's ministrations.
"Sorry," Rodney said, pulling the towel back.
"Painkillers, doc?" said John. "How's your stomach?"
The thought of swallowing anything turned Carson's face quite green.
"Uh oh," said Rodney, taking several steps back.
"Maybe we should give you a shot instead?" said John.
"We?" said Rodney. "What 'we'? You do it!"
"What do you want me to get, doc?" John asked, ignoring the scientist.
Carson mumbled a reply, and John had to ask him twice to repeat it before he found the correct drug. He brought it over to Carson, and held out the syringe and bottle.
"Lad," the doctor said, blinking. "I can't see straight. Can ya fill it yerself?"
John obeyed, thankful for the medical training that all military personnel are taught.
Carson fumbled to pull up his jacket sleeve, but it wouldn't bunch up high enough. Rodney was impatient to see the unprecedented sight of John giving Carson a shot, so he went over and yanked Carson's arm out of the sleeve for him.
John shot a look at him, though Rodney was sure there was a hint of sparkle in the man's eyes. I knew it! Rodney thought. I bet John's enjoying this more then he's letting on!
"I guess I should say 'sorry' ahead of time, doc," John said. "I'm sure this'll hurt."
Rodney had to hold back a snort.
Despite the chance to give the doc a taste of his own medicine—literally—John tried to be gentle as he injected the drug. The situation was humorous, he had to admit, but he didn't want to cause anymore suffering for Carson; he knew that the doc only did what's best for them. It certainly wasn't Carson's fault that he and Rodney were his patients so often.
Carson didn't flinch at the poke of the needle. He was too occupied with his throbbing headache.
John pulled out the needle and laid it on the nearby table.
"Thanks, lad," Carson said, eyes still closed.
"What can we do to you next?" said Rodney, sticking his friend's arm back in his jacket sleeve. "I mean, uh, what else can we do to help?"
Carson didn't answer.
Rodney reached over and nudged him. "Carson? Wake up; no sleeping, isn't that what you always tell us?"
"Bugger off."
Rodney's jaw dropped. "Well, that wasn't very nice! Here we are, trying to help you, and that's what we get for it?"
"I don' need help," the injured doctor mumbled. "Lemme sleep."
"You can't sleep, Carson! Did you forget what you've learned about concussions?" Rodney asked. Realization suddenly dawned on his face. "Ohmygosh, have you lost your memory?"
John frowned, wondering if memory loss could really begin so late after the initial injury.
Carson opened his eyes slightly, looking at Rodney. "Who're you?"
Rodney's jaw dropped and he audibly gasped.
Carson rolled his eyes and then winced from the pain it caused. "Ya daft bugger. Of course I haven't lost my memory! I just wanna sleep. Ya both can go."
Rodney and John exchanged nervous looks.
"Doc," said John, concerned. "Whether your memory is fine or not, you're obviously not thinking clearly or you would realize that sleeping is not a good idea right now."
Carson didn't answer, eyes closed.
"Carsooooon," said Rodney, shaking his arm. "Stop it, will you? You want to put yourself into a coma?"
"Go 'way."
"No!" said Rodney. "You'd better cooperate, unless you want us hovering over you like you do to us!"
Carson smiled inwardly. "I don' want that," he said.
"Then wake up! Where's your brain?"
"Spillin' out me ears," Carson said, with a wince.
Rodney realized that he was talking pretty loud. His expression turned to one of shock when Carson suddenly tried to sit up.
John reached forward and pushed him back down. "What are you doing?!" he asked.
Carson should not have moved; he realized that too late when everything spun around him and his vision grayed. "He's hurt," he gasped.
John looked at the scientist. "Rodney's fine, doc. His wound is bandaged…sorta."
Rodney hid his incorrectly-wrapped arm behind his back.
"Oh good. I'll just go back ta sleep then…"
"Oh no you don't," said Rodney. He walked over and shoved an arm under the doctor, swiftly sitting him upright. "Can't sleep sitting up, now can you!"
"Rodney!" John exclaimed.
Carson almost fell off the bed. His head seemed to explode with fireworks, and he bonelessly slumped against the scientist, who thankfully managed to catch him.
"You idiot!" John shouted, grabbing their limp friend. "Are you out of your mind?! You don't do that to someone who has a concussion! If he pukes, I'm aiming him at you!"
Rodney stepped back. Spying the bucket on the floor, he kicked it closer to the bed.
"Doc?" said John, nervously.
Carson was completely limp, eyes closed.
John gently laid him down again. "Look what you've done!" he said to Rodney.
Regret was finally evident on Rodney's face. "I—I didn't mean to hurt him..."
"Really? So far, it looks like you're hurting him on purpose!"
Carson slowly became aware of their voices. Breathing heavily, he inwardly begged the pain and nausea to subside. He knew that the only reason he hadn't made use of the 'puke bucket' was because his stomach was empty. With the dangerous situation that they'd only just gotten out of, he hadn't had time to eat very recently.
When he was finally able to speak, Carson mumbled, "That's it. I'm outta here before ya two kill me..." He slid his legs over so they hung off the bed, and tried to slide off.
John was so busy staring Rodney down that he didn't realize what Carson was doing. Rodney did, but he was still far from the bed thanks to the 'puke' threat. His face showed surprise as he looked past John, and the Major turned around just in time to grab the doctor's arm as he slid off the bed.
Carson's legs weren't interested in providing their usual function, so he quickly found himself sitting on the floor.
John went down with him, grabbing his arms to keep him upright. Rodney knelt beside him.
Carson spoke before either of them had a chance. "I wanna go ta my quarters."
"You can't do that, Carson," said John. "You need to be looked at by one of your doctors when they get back here."
"Don't care," Carson said, eyes shut tight against his pounding skull. "Wanna go."
Rodney shook his head, unable to accept that his friend—a doctor—could possibly be this uncooperative towards legitimate medical facts. He was convinced that his head injury was more severe than they thought. "That girl knocked him for a loop!" he said to John. "What are we going to do?"
John shook his head. "Let's take him to his quarters."
"What?!"
"It'll probably be a while before people start getting back here," John said. "If he's gonna drive us crazy, we might as well give him what he wants for now, and bring him back when a doctor can look at him. You know his quarters aren't far from here."
Rodney looked unsure, but shrugged with one shoulder. "Okay."
"All right, doc," said John. "You're getting your wish."
As they helped him up and Rodney pulled one of Carson's arms over his shoulder, he said, "You better not puke on us along the way!"
Carson knew that his stomach was empty, but Rodney didn't, so he answered, "I'll try not ta."
Rodney grimaced.
They made it to Carson's quarters without incident, and John opened the door. Entering, they brought him over to the bed.
"Pull down the covers," John told Rodney.
The scientist carefully let go of Carson and obeyed.
They laid him down, and took off his shoes.
"What about his jacket?" Rodney asked. "Do you think he's cold? Can concussions cause shock? We should've brought a blood-pressure cuff with us!"
Despite the 'Rodney Rants', John knew that his questions had merit. "Do you want your jacket left on, Carson?"
The doctor didn't answer.
"Ohno," said Rodney. "We knocked him out again!"
"What do you mean, 'we'?" said John. "You knocked him out when you stupidly sat him up, I had nothing to do with that!"
"Off," Carson suddenly mumbled.
"What was that?" Rodney asked.
"Jacket. Off."
"Oh," said the scientist, relieved. "He's not cold! That's a good sign, right?"
John shrugged, before they reached down and removed Carson's jacket.
The doctor unexpectedly shivered when they finished. "Cold."
"What?!" said Rodney. "But you said—"
"Drop it, Rodney," John said.
They put the jacket back on the injured doctor, and Rodney zipped it, before pulling the covers up. "Now what?" he asked John.
John shook his head. "I guess we just sit here and keep him awake."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Rodney said. "Sleeping Beauty won't listen to us."
"Hey doc," said John. "Tell us a story."
"Story?" Carson mumbled.
"Yeah. Talk to us. You have six brothers and sisters, right? Most of them older than you? Tell us the funny things they did to 'Little Carson'. Did you have a nickname?"
"Don' wanna talk. Head hurts."
"We don't know how else to keep you awake!" Rodney exclaimed.
Carson was silent for a few seconds, before saying, "Carsie. They called me 'Carsie'."
Rodney's sudden grin nearly split his face. "Carsie? HA!"
"They used ta hold my wrists and spin me around in circles like I was flyin'," he continued. "Then put me down and watch me walk inta things and fall over."
John blinked. "That wasn't very nice."
"Poor Little Carsie," Rodney snorted.
"Had a big dog when I was four," Carson said, eyes still closed, his voice still mumbly. "They tried ta make me a saddle so I could ride 'em."
Rodney's eyebrows shot up. "Did it work?"
"Aye," Carson said, smiling at the memory. "Was fun."
"I can imagine," said John, pulling up a chair.
"Until the day he ran inta the road."
Rodney was in the process of sitting down on the bed, but Carson's words made him nearly fall off. "Road?! With you on his back?!"
"Aye."
John and Rodney looked at each other, afraid to ask the outcome.
"Good thing the man on his bicycle stopped," Carson said.
"Bicycle?!" said Rodney. "No cars were coming?"
"Cars?" Carson echoed, eyes still closed. "Oh, we never got cars where we lived. Too far inta the country."
Both men unconsciously sighed with relief.
The next hour passed in a similar fashion, with Carson intermittently telling stories and falling asleep, prompting the others to bully him awake.
John had radioed Elizabeth, asking her to let them know when a doctor was back on Atlantis, and finally, she did.
"Great," John said to her. "Thanks." He looked at Rodney, with relief. "Back to the infirmary you go, doc."
"Don' wanna."
"But you have to."
"No."
"Yes!" said Rodney. "If we're never allowed to refuse, than neither are you!" He yanked the covers back, and helped pull him out of the bed.
Carson made a pained sound, though his eyes had finally opened. "My shoes."
"You don't need them," Rodney said. "You're just going from one bed to another."
"The hall is slippery," John said. "He can't afford to fall. Put his sneakers on him, Rodney."
The scientist sat Carson back down on the bed, shooting a look at John as if to say, 'why don't you do it'?!
John knelt and picked up one sneaker, while tossing the other at Rodney's chest.
Rodney glared at him, but caught it. "Okie dokie," he mocked. "Let's tie Little Carsie's shoes real tight so he doesn't trip on the laces!"
Neither man saw the laugh that Carson was trying to hide.
Finally, they got Carson to the infirmary, where Dr. Biro was waiting, having been told by Elizabeth what to expect.
"What happened to him?!" she asked, concerned.
"He was hit in the face with a gun," Teyla's voice suddenly said, as she entered the room. "I witnessed it, so I thought it wise to be here to answer questions."
"Thank you," Biro said to her, motioning the men to bring Carson to a bed.
"A gun?!" Rodney said. "Ow." No wonder he's loopy!
They laid him down, and Biro took out her own penlight.
Rodney put a hand over his mouth to hide a grin.
"We he knocked unconscious?" Biro asked, shining the light, which made Carson groan and turn his head.
Teyla nodded. "For about ten minutes."
"He hit his head on the floor," Rodney supplied. "He has an egg on the back."
Biro frowned at that. Double head trauma wasn't ever good.
"He's been acting all...dumb!" Rodney continued. "Not cooperating, falling asleep even though we keep telling him not to..."
Biro clicked off the light. "Well, he definitely has a concussion. Why wasn't he here when I arrived?"
"He refused to stay," said John. "Made us take him to his quarters."
Carson mumbled something, and Biro bent closer to hear him. She stood up, looking confused. "He's not making much sense. I should do a scan. The two of you should go see Dr. Weir; she asked me to send you to her when you had a chance. Come back here when you're done though, I might have more questions for you."
"Okay," said Rodney. They threw concerned looks at Carson as they left.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
When John and Rodney returned to the infirmary, they found Carson with a bandage around his head, lying on the bed wearing scrubs. Teyla sat in a chair beside him, a hand on one of his arms.
"Oh good, you're back," Biro said. "He's all yours."
Rodney and John looked at each other. "Huh?" said Rodney.
"Take him back to his quarters," she said. "He'll never get the rest he needs in here."
"How can he not?" said Rodney. "This is the infirmary!"
Biro put a hand on her hip. "Rodney, if you were in your lab and something important was going on, would you just sit there and keep out of it while Radek did all the work?"
"No way," said Rodney.
"So how is Doctor Beckett supposed to lie here and rest with patients coming in daily that he'll be itching to treat?"
John looked at Rodney, with a shrug. "She's right."
Rodney couldn't counter their statements, so they walked over to the bed.
"Carson," said Teyla, patting his arm. "Time to go back to your quarters."
The injured doctor blinked his eyes. "Oh good. Thanks, lass."
"How bad is his concussion?" John asked.
Biro sighed. "Not too bad. He was lucky."
"Would've been luckier if he hadn't whacked his head on the floor," Rodney said, as they got Carson up and helped him towards the door.
"Make sure you wake him frequently through the night," Biro called. "Every hour at first. Ask him his name and if he remembers what happened. If he handles it well, you can do it every two hours."
John and Rodney stopped dead.
"You're making us his nursemaids?!" Rodney exclaimed.
Biro and Teyla gave him stern looks. "Has he not done the same for you? Many times?" said the Athosian.
Rodney sputtered, but had no answer. Wordlessly, they headed towards the door.
After they were gone, Biro and Teyla could no longer hold in their laughter.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
John and Rodney once again brought Carson to his quarters and put him to bed. He dropped right off to sleep, to their relief.
"I can't believe that we're stuck here awake all night," said Rodney.
John looked at him as he stood at the balcony door. "Well sure, it's not something we would've planned, but don't you care that Carson needs our help for a change? Geez, if it was you lying there, nothing could keep him away."
Rodney turned, his eyebrows raised. "Of course I care! It's just..." He threw both arms up without thinking, making himself wince.
John frowned. "Why don't go you back to the infirmary and have that bandaged the right way."
Rodney looked at the crazy bandage around his arm. "I'd rather Carson do it."
John pointedly looked at the sleeping form in the bed. "Well, since he's currently unable..."
"It can wait."
John shook his head. "Sure, if you want to risk gangrene and amputation..."
Rodney stared. "Amputation? You think my wound is that bad?"
John shrugged. "Is it worth the risk?"
Without another word, Rodney ran out the door.
John rolled his eyes, shaking his head. A sudden chuckle sounded, and he turned to look at Carson again.
A very awake Carson.
"Hey doc," said John. "Need anything?"
"Aye," Carson said, smiling. "A picture of Rodney's face just before he ran out."
John echoed the chuckle. "He's too easy to tease."
"He is," Carson agreed.
John sat on the side of the bed. "How's your head?"
"No' very happy."
"Boy do I know how that feels," John said.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
As Rodney walked into the infirmary, he heard Dr. Biro and Teyla still talking.
"I hope they learn a lesson out of this!" the doctor was saying.
"Who?" Rodney asked.
Biro, startled, turned around and nearly fell over. "Rodney!"
The scientist blinked, puzzled at her reaction.
Teyla looked from one to the other. "Your mice, doctor…"
Biro suddenly nodded. "Yes! The mice in my lab. They...uh...keep escaping. I saw them get out, and realized that it was a team effort, so I separated them. I hope they learn their lesson!"
Rodney blinked again. "Okaaaaay." He held up his arm. "Can you take care of this for me?"
"Sure," she said. Leading him towards one of the beds, she caught Teyla's eye and shot her a look of relief.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Carson had fallen asleep, and John was wandering around, looking at the various knick-knacks and things placed around the room. He spotted a picture that showed an older woman surrounded by seven younger men and ladies. Carson was right beside her, wearing a big smile with both arms wrapped around her. She was laughing, and everyone else in the picture was smiling too, looking very happy.
They were obviously Carson's mother and siblings.
John jumped at the chance to see the family that the doctor was always talking about. He picked up the picture; seeing that Carson's mother was still a good-looking woman, even at her age, and it was obvious that she'd passed down her looks to her children. All of Carson's brothers and sisters looked like nice people. John knew that she was a good mother; Carson certainly said it often enough.
"Hey Sheppard."
John was startled, and nearly dropped the picture. He reached up to activate his earpiece. "What?!" he hissed, soft enough to not wake Carson, he hoped.
"I'm bringing my laptop back with me," Rodney said. "Do you need anything?"
"Uh." John's stomach suddenly growled and he looked at his watch. "How about supper?"
"Oh great, first I gotta be a nursemaid, and now room service." He sighed. "Should I bring something for Carson too? You think he can eat?"
"I don't know," John answered. "Try to bring him something that's easy on the stomach. Nothing heavy or spicy."
"Okay."
Switching off his earpiece, John walked over to the balcony, watching the sunset. He thought back to the traumatic events of the day, nearly unable to comprehend that it was over. So many people could've lost their lives...
The door opening brought John out of his musings, and he turned, seeing Rodney trying to juggle two stacked trays and his laptop. John took the trays from him, and brought them to the nearby table, taking a cover off the one on top. "Barbeque chicken! Nice. What did you bring for Carson?"
Rodney took off the other cover. On it sat a bowl of soup, and something that had John look at Rodney in shock.
"What?" Rodney asked.
"Blue jello," John said. "Your favorite."
Rodney shrugged.
"That's the only bowl here," John continued.
"Yeah, well," said Rodney, waving a hand in dismissal. "It's all they had left."
"You're giving up your favorite jello for him?" said John, stunned.
Rodney scoffed. "I do something nice and it's like the world ended or something! I'm not a jerk all the time, you know."
John smiled and took the soup, patting the scientist on the arm as he walked to the bed. He sat the bowl on the night-table and looked at his watch. It was almost time for the doctor's hourly waking anyway, and he didn't want the soup to get cold. "Carson?" he said, before inwardly wincing. How dumb is it to ask someone their name after you just said it? "Doc," he said, instead. "Wakey wakey."
Carson groaned softly, moving his head slightly.
"Wake up, doc," John said. "We have some soup here, if you can eat it."
Carson blearily opened his eyes.
"What's your name?" John asked.
Carson blinked for a minute. "Dr. Leonard McCoy."
John's eyebrows shot up.
"What did he say?!" said Rodney, coming closer.
"What did you say?!" asked John.
Carson said nothing more, eyes once again closed.
"Geez!" said Rodney. "Do you think we've made too many jokes about him being like Dr. McCoy? This isn't Star Trek, Carson!" He suddenly made an amused face. "This is Star Gate! Ha! Get it? You know, the Stargate? Oh that'd be the perfect name if we were a sci-fi TV show...!"
"Shut up, Rodney!" said John. "Doc, tell me your real name!"
Carson opened his eyes again, shooting John a confused look, as if not understanding his anxiety. "Carson Beckett. What's wrong, lad?"
"What's wrong?!" Rodney exclaimed. "You just told us that your name is Leonard McCoy!"
Carson chuckled. "No I didn't."
"Yes you did!"
"No I didn't."
"Yes yes yes you did!"
Carson groaned and put a hand on his head.
"Shhh!" John said to Rodney. "Can you eat this soup, doc?"
"I'll try," Carson answered, sounding like a little boy.
Rodney helped him sit up, and John handed him the bowl.
Carson picked up the spoon.
"Hey, wait!" said Rodney. "We didn't bring the puke bucket with us!"
As if he didn't hear him, Carson slurped a mouthful of noodles and chicken. His expression quickly turned to one of distress.
"Oh crap!" Rodney shouted, backing up and looking for something to use.
John looked around too, not spotting anything.
Carson, meanwhile, picked up the spoon and ate some more.
"Are you nuts?!" Rodney said, when he saw. "It's obviously all gonna come right back up!"
"Ummm," said Carson, still eating. "Tastes good."
"Not for long," Rodney said.
The doctor ate all the soup and put the bowl back on the night-table. He then shuffled back down flat, and pulled the covers to his chin.
John and Rodney stood there, confused.
"You okay, doc?" John asked.
Carson mumbled.
"Soup settling okay?"
Another affirmative mumble.
"Uh...good."
"Thank God," said Rodney, relieved. His expression quickly changed, though. "Just because it's settled at the moment doesn't mean it's gonna stay in there!" With that, he ran out the door.
John watched him go, wondering if everyone with the prefix 'Dr' had suddenly lost their minds.
Approximately 1 1/2 minutes later, Rodney came back with the 'puke bucket'.
All night, John and Rodney fulfilled their new 'job' of waking Carson up to ensure that he didn't lose consciousness again. The doctor didn't cooperate very well most of the time, telling them to 'bugger off'. When he asked them to 'beam me up', Rodney nearly had a heart attack.
At 3am, to their surprise, Carson declared himself hungry and asked Rodney to pick him up some Kentucky Fried Chicken.
"Uh," Rodney said. "I have blue jello."
Carson was as shocked at the kind gesture as John had been. "Yer givin' me yer blue jello?"
Rodney nodded and handed it to him.
Carson stared at the bowl on his lap, before looking back at Rodney again. To the scientist's shock and embarrassment, the doctor's lip actually trembled. "Thank you, Rodney. This means a lot ta me!"
"Oh, geez!" Rodney said. "Can head injuries make a person ridiculously emotional?"
Carson's answer was a sniff, which made him wince from the earlier injury to his poor nose. He picked up the spoon and eagerly ate the jello, before going back to sleep.
Rodney eventually fell asleep too, but John kept up his duty. About an hour before dawn, when it was obvious that Carson was all right, he let himself doze off, intending to let the doc sleep uninterrupted for a couple hours.
When Rodney woke, it was daylight. He jumped, startled, seeing John asleep. He thought for a minute that they'd both fallen asleep and neglected Carson for who-knew how long, and he jumped out of his chair. "Carson!" he shouted. "Wake up!"
Carson's face was turned away from him, and he didn't move.
Rodney ran around to the other side of the bed, sitting on it and grabbing his friend's arms. "Carson! Wake up right now!"
The doctor remained motionless.
"SHEPPARD!"
The shouting had already woken John, who was now standing beside Rodney. "What happened?!"
"He won't wake up!" Rodney said, panicking. "We fell asleep and left him alone!"
John looked at his watch. "It's only been a couple hours! Biro said that was okay!"
"Then why won't he wake up?!" Rodney shouted, shaking the poor doctor now. He finally let go, and sat Carson up, pulling him to the side of the bed so they could take him back to the infirmary.
"Whatcha doin', Rodney?" he suddenly heard, right in his ear.
"ACK!" Rodney exclaimed, jumping away.
Carson fell back with a plop "Oww."
"You're awake?!" Rodney exclaimed.
"Of course I am, ya daft bugger! Ya were yellin' loud enough!" He rolled onto his side, rubbing the lump on the back of his head. "Ow."
Rodney was a very frazzled man, after the night they'd just had. He looked to John, about ready to pull his hair out. "Wh—wh—why wouldn't you wake up?" he stuttered.
"Obviously, I was tired." Carson pulled the covers up again. "G'night, Rodney."
The scientist plopped back into his chair. A few minutes later, when Carson appeared to be asleep, he said, "And I thought I was a bad patient."
John chuckled. "Certainly shows us what he goes through whenever we're in the infirmary."
Rodney mumbled a reply that sounded like, "Shut up." He then stood and went in the bathroom.
John looked at Carson, seeing the slight lift to the corners of his mouth. He sat on the bed, and leaned towards his ear. "I know what you're up to," he whispered.
Carson opened his eyes, having not been asleep. "What?"
John nodded, with a smile. "Payback! Don't worry, it worked; after this experience, Rodney and I are gonna be much more-cooperative patients in the future."
Carson dramatically sighed with relief. "Thank God!" He looked towards the bathroom, where Rodney was still inside.
John smirked. "Don't worry, doc, your secret's safe with me! I'll take any chance to annoy Rodney!"
Carson smiled, then quickly closed his eyes before the scientist returned.
Rodney, genius that he was, the man with the highest IQ on Atlantis...never found out.
THE END
LOL!