Among the many myriad of physical and mental reactions their current situation demanded, John had the fleeting mental capacity to utter words that summed it up pretty well.
"Oh, crap!"
Teyla glanced over at John, as her teeth clenched tightly together, making her unable to respond to the words she hated to hear, most of all.
"Teyla-Hold on! I cant hold her! We're going down!" John managed to grunt out while in the midst of trying to get the jumper to respond. Sweat beading on his forehead trickled down his temple, testament to the stress he was currently under. He did not want to die this day-or take Teyla with him.
The jumper was losing altitude despite John's best efforts. There was nothing he could do. He yelled for Teyla to get her seat belt on and assume the crash position he had taught her, in case of-well-in case of this...
The jumper was skimming over tree branches by the time John remembered his own seat belt. He allowed his straining hands to give up trying to pilot the doomed jumper and willed them to find and fasten the restraint that would prevent him from catapulting around the jumper when it crashed.
His hand hungrily searched along the pilot seat for the belt, but he couldnt seem to locate it. Time was up, panic causing his body to shudder and suddenly feel disconnected from his own body. He took a quick look over at Teyla and his heart jumped to his throat. Her hands were over her head as she bent forward. He could still see the terrified look on her face. He felt the sharp stab of guilt rip through his gut. He may not survive this, but damn it-he would do all he could to give Teyla a chance.
Grabbing the controls once again, he was determined to give her every chance he could. His concentration focused on leveling the jumper out so the impact was not focused on any one point but over the entire bottom surface.
Time seemed to slow down considerably. He heard the first wrenching sounds of metal contact against ground. He held it as steady as he could with all the might he could muster. He hoped it was enough. A solid thunk caused the jumper to roll sideways and John was thrown from his seat, impacting the sidewall with his already bruised left side. Several more solid bumps jarred him again, in quick succession. His body was thrown about like a rag doll, but he never felt a thing as his battered body shut down.
Several long and silent minutes went by. Teyla was afraid to move, but knew she had to. She slowly lowered her hands from her head and unfolded her body. The first stab of pain came as she straightened. She determined the pain was due to the very restraint that kept her safe. The seat belt was digging into her abdomen. Since the jumper was on its side, she braced her legs the best she could as she found the buckle and pushed the release. Sliding sideways, it felt good to be free, but the residual pain remained. Taking stock of her physical being, she was amazed that despite the probable bruising due to the belt-she was remarkably okay.
Mere seconds had passed as she took stock of her condition. Her next thoughts were for the Major. She looked over at the pilot's chair and found it empty. She was instantly alert. Hadnt she seen him fasten his seat belt? Panic swelled in her chest as her eyes swiftly scanned the jumper, looking for him.
Teyla saw him crumpled against the bulkhead door, in the corner between the side and what was the ceiling. His left leg was folded at an unnatural angle and she saw blood pooling under his head. It looked like his nose was bleeding profusely also, there was so much blood. Fear held her still, longer than it should have. And then she was all action. She made her way over to him and fearfully felt for his pulse. Relief-there was a pulse, steady but weak.
Teyla felt along his skull and it seemed that the head wound he had gotten earlier had opened up again. Without checking him out further, she rose and made her way to the back of the jumper. Luckily the first aid kit was kept under the left side bench seat, so it was easily accessible. She grabbed the box and made her way back to John. She put another pressure bandage around his head wound. She had thought his nose broken due to all the blood running down his face, but she found it due to a nasty cut on his forehead. She dressed it the best she could. His right arm seemed fine, but his left arm was pinned under his body and she didnt want to move him too much. She'd wait until he woke-she prayed he would...He had lost much blood back at the Ancient base, and was losing much more now.
Teyla tried to remember the first aid training Carson had taught her. His leg was most definitely broken, its unnatural angle made her shudder. She immobilized his leg the best she could. Exhausted, her hands covered with John's blood, she pushed her sweat-dampened hair away from her face with the back of her forearm. A smear of John's blood leaving its mark on her face. Lethargy pulled at her and she fought the urge to succumb. She was physically drained from the tension and the physical work moving around the lopsided jumper.
Moving to the front, she tried the radio but got nothing but static. She couldnt contact Dr. Zelenka and Atlantis wasnt aware of their unscheduled return. She was afraid rescue would not be coming for a few more hours. She sat next to John and watched for his pallid, still face to show the first signs of consciousness. She would settle for the weak pulse in his neck to continue its rhythm.
TBC Poor John-injured, but alive! Hope rescue comes soon or john may not make it!