Author's Note – Well all, here's the next chapter. Updates are going to be a bit slower for awhile now, I'm in the process of writing about 70k words worth of fics for various SGA exchanges and competitions. Unfortunately I cannot post those as I go, so it's going to be slower for a few months and then a lot all at once. This is my side project that I will continue to post as I write; the others are all different stories. Lots of people seem to be checking out and subscribing to this story and that's awesome, I hope everyone is enjoying it! And reviews are awesome if you guys have any thoughts and I really do appreciate them! Please feel free to leave a comment with any ideas or comments, I try to respond to all of them and they really do keep me motivated to churn out updates. Anyways, another chapter, as promised. I hope you guys like it!

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Wing Men

Chapter 7 – On Ice

Cold. He was cold and it was dark. That was the first thing he was aware of. His entire left side was numb and cold. And where were the lights? And where was he for the matter? Wait, opening his eyes could help, he thought. Why was he so stupid all of a sudden?

Rodney drowsily summoned the energy to open his eyes the tiniest of bits knowing the transition from total darkness to brightness wouldn't be a friendly one. It never was. He was partially reclined on a bed, there was a rhythmic beeping off to one side and a light blanket was draped over the lower part of his body. The beeping meant a heart monitor; it meant he was in Carson's clutches in the infirmary. What had happened?

He went to stretch stiff muscles in his back and let out a weak groan as he did so, he apparently had been here for awhile if his body was protesting this much with such a slight motion. There was a shuffling to the side of him, he turned his head. Sheppard was watching him intently, having abandoned the open book in his lap, "McKay, you awake?"

Rodney looked around a bit drunkenly, everything seemed off, the room hadn't stopped rocking yet and his mouth couldn't seem to form the words and keep up with his thoughts. Drugs. He felt drugged. Something must have happened, "…I think…"

Sheppard leaned forward, putting a hand on the railing. "Good. That's good. How are you feeling?"

Rodney blinked a few times, trying to register the question and formulate an answer. He didn't know why he was here, nothing hurt too much. The only thing that was bothering him was the numbness on the right side. He turned his head to see what could be causing that. There was a sense of confusion at the fact that he couldn't see his right shoulder. Where was it?

"My shoulder…"

Sheppard's gaze immediately honed in on the joint, "Is it hurting you? I can get Beckett," he said with a sense of urgency as he began to rise from his chair.

"No…it's ok. Where is it?"

Sheppard looked confused at this too, "What do you mean buddy?"

"I can't see it…"

"It's right where you left it, everything's still attached. Beckett said everything went ok with the surgery."

Surgery…he'd had surgery? God, he didn't like pain, but he hated being drugged even worse. Everyone had that something that made them special, the thing that qualified them to be here studying this amazing city in another galaxy. Sheppard had his bravery, his loyalty and ability to unite and inspire the men under his command. McKay had his brain, his intelligence and the ability to string together a series of seemingly unrelated concepts and make them sing. But this…this was wrong. He was having trouble formulating whole sentences. "Uh…sorry. I'm a bit off, drugs I think? What happened?"

Sheppard slowly sat back down, "Oh, yeah. Sorry, drugs make thinking a lot harder. I've had that experience. Bates tried to get some info from me one time on the specs on that village we visited the one time where I got shot. He told me afterward the only coherent bit I'd said was about them making a mean dinner roll…"

His voice dipped off at the end as he realized that McKay's gaze seemed to be wandering around at random, "Sorry, you were asking about the surgery, not for a story of my personal exploits. You dislocated your shoulder; a nerve got pinched when you put it back in. Beckett went in and fixed it."

Rodney seemed to be focusing a bit better, the drugged feeling seemed to be waning a bit, "Oh…yeah. Everything's ok with it now?"

Sheppard nodded, "Beckett said everything went according to plan. You've been sleeping it off for several hours."

Rodney raised his left hand from on top of the blanket where it'd been sitting and tried to reach up toward the shoulder only to be stopped by the tugging of something on the back of his hand. An IV, of course, he should've thought of that, he scolded himself. Maybe he was still a bit slow, the drugs still. He put the hand back down, "Can you take the ice off? It's all numb…"

"Carson put that on as soon as you came out of surgery and they've been in to change it a few times as it's melted. He said you need it to keep the swelling down."

"I've done this before, not my first dislocation. It's ok," Rodney prodded. He needed to know that he could feel it; right now it was just dead weight. He could feel the weight of the arm on his chest in its sling, but that was it. There was no pain, not even the hint of pain that always seemed to peek through the drugs. He needed to know that everything was ok, that the nerves were ok. This was his arm; it wasn't something he could just replace like a spare part for the machines he worked on if something had gone with the surgery.

"Rodney, I don't think so…"

"Sheppard, I just want to feel something…anything in the arm. That's all," he argued weakly.

Perhaps it was the desperation in his friend's voice that won him over, but Sheppard relented with a disapproving sigh as he started removing the bags of ice one at a time and setting them on the table next to the bed.

There was silence for a few minutes, Sheppard just watching as Rodney closed his eyes and focused on his injured limb, searching for any hint of a return of feeling. It had to just be the ice or the drugs making it numb, it had to be. What would he do with just one arm? And his left one would be the one he'd be left with no less, trust fate to give him a hard time, he was right handed on a normal day. His eyes snapped open as he felt the first bit of tingling in the arm and he let out a silent thank you. It wasn't much, but it was enough. He turned his attention back to Sheppard, "You been here all night?"

John smiled weakly, "I took a break for breakfast. Teyla and Ronon stayed with you for an hour or so while I did that. I stopped by the control room to trade my training shifts for some of the new troops with another commander so I could be here for the day."

A small smile crept over McKay's face, "You are such a stalker. You don't need to stay here all day. I'll be bored enough on my own, no need for you to suffer through that too."

Sheppard shrugged, "I don't have to, I want to."

Rodney nodded in appreciation; the smallest things really did make a difference, "What time is it?"

John threw a quick glance at his watch, "About one in the afternoon. Should've woken up a bit earlier, I could've gotten you some food. The nurses came through with lunch for everyone."

"Not really all too hungry at the moment, painkillers and nausea seemed to come in a neat pair."

"Carson said to try to get something in you after you woke up," he said, grabbing something off the table next to the bed that McKay couldn't see from where he was at. He wasn't really up for shifting around too much to find out, let Sheppard bring whatever it was to him.

"Well, this was blue jello at some point. A little more liquid than gelatinous at the moment, but that shouldn't affect the taste much," he said as he produced a cup of partially melted jello, "I asked the nurses for it specifically. It wasn't on the menu and I had to trade a blind date with one of the nurse's friends to get this so you better eat it," he said in a lighthearted tone.

McKay smiled, "Like you need any encouragement to plan yourself a date. That is no burden upon you, you love flaunting your spiky hair and weapons for the ladies," but his mouth opened a bit as a small noise escaped and a muscle twitched.

Sheppard didn't miss it, "What's wrong?"

"Maybe I'm a little sore. Where's the morphine pump control?"

John looked at him with a puzzled expression.

McKay's breathing was getting a bit more rapid. The numbness was fading and quickly being replaced with a sharp pain. With an urgency in his voice he prompted again, "Small box with a button on it, it should be near my IV, I should be able to up my dosage of morphine to kill-" he cut off as another shudder ran through the shoulder, "the pain! Please…"

Sheppard was on his feet and around to the other side of the bed, looking at the IV stand, looking near the call button attached to the bed, "McKay there's nothing here…What do I do?"

He was taking huge breaths, breaths large they seemed to be in danger of cracking his ribcage, anything to stop him from letting out the cry he was stifling, he wasn't concerned about not being able to feel the arm any more. It was on fire, he wanted the numbness again, the blessed numbness to silence his screaming shoulder, "Beckett!" he rasped between breaths and immediately went back to channeling all of his effort into resisting the urge to curl up. Any movement would aggravate it; he needed to ride this out.

He looked back up and Sheppard was gone, the rapid thud of boots on the tiled floor suggesting a hasty departure. God, let him find Beckett, please. With Sheppard gone he stopped worrying about suppressing a verbal expression of his anguish, letting out weak hiccups of pain. This was way worse than before, something must have gone wrong, nothing should hurt this much!

He heard more scuttling of rapid footsteps before he blinked and there were suddenly two figures by his bed, one on either side. He focused his blurry gaze on one to his left, the figure was pulling his hand away from where it was wrapped around his injured arm. He tried to tell the figure to let go, he needed that, that grip was grounding him and they were taking it away! He tried to shake the hand off but it tightened, "Easy, Rodney. Easy lad," the figure's voice murmured in a soothing tone.

He saw the glint of a needle, then a burning racing up his good arm, and the figure let go of his hand, instead settling on his chest to keep him shifting. As if Rodney needed to be told. He'd expended all of his energy in the past few moments resisting the urge to do just that. He tried to say as much, but his mouth wasn't in the mood to cooperate.

He felt his heart beat slow, the pain fell from a thunderous roar to a dull ache and the world seemed a little fuzzy again. More drugs. He didn't care. He didn't feel the urge to scream, that was all that mattered right now. "Thanks…" he said softly. There was nothing more wonderful than drugs right now. He'd never take them for granted again.

Beckett moved around to his side and he felt the harsh sting of something cold against the skin of his injured shoulder. Carson threw a look at Sheppard, "Why's the ice on the table instead of on Rodney's shoulder?"

McKay listened to the exchange, content to soak up the welcomed fuzziness of the drugs for the moment.

Another voice spoke, "Rodney said it was ok…that he'd done it before and it was fine."

He heard Beckett mutter something under his breath before responding, "The lad has an amazing affinity for ignoring medical advice. He should've iced it the last time he injured the joint too, he chose not to."

He felt more weight being settled on his right shoulder, more sting, more ice, "He probably noticed it more this time being that we were in with the nerves. They tend to protest a good deal more when that's the case."

This time Carson moved up into Rodney's line of sight, "Rodney lad, I know ye are hurtin'. The painkiller should dull it. Ye need to listen to me this time Rodney. This is a complicated case and ye need to be following my advice on this to the letter. The ice stays, alright lad?"

Rodney, blissfully enjoying the renewed numbness, agreed, "The ice stays…"

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