AN: First of all, thanks to everybody who reads this fic and/or added it to story alert! =)
And second, I know this story is making slow progress and I apologize. School started again and that means a lot of work for me, but I'll try to update more often. Or at least every week. (Maybe I should start to write in boring classes to kill time.) I hope this chapter is a little bit more satisfying for you. And third, sometimes I have the feeling the words I use aren't the best ones. If you read something that bothers you, please feel free to tell me and I will change it. Seriously, don't hold back, it might be an opportunity to improve my English. =)
x - x - x
When he finally reached his address Ronon already leaned against his parked car, John securely in his arms. As Rodney approached he straightened up and strolled over to meet him at the door. The weight of John's unconscious body didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.
"What took you so long? My grandma would have been faster than you and she..."
"... is limping, yeah yeah, stop it already. You're lucky I made it here alive." He breathed heavily and theatrically put his hands on his knees like he just came back from running 5000 metres. Ronon shot him an annoyed glance and gestured for him to open the door.
McKay started to search his pockets for his keys, only to find them empty. He groaned. "I must have left my keys in the car. Maybe you could drive back and..."
"Got a better idea." Ronon cut him off. He motioned for Rodney to take over the unconscious boy. Rodney opened his arms and Ronon gave John over. Rodney stumbled under the weight. The boy may have looked haggard and bony but he wasn't exactly a lightweight either.
Once he had freed his hands Ronon started to rummage through the big pockets of his pant. Rodney secretly wondered what he had in there because they looked pretty crammed. He only knew of two small items Ronon always had within reach. A powerbar (or alternatively a bar of chocolate) to save Rodney from hypoglycemic shock and an EpiPen if some jerk tried to kill Rodney with citrus-poisoned food (which in Rodney's eyes happened way to often). Oh, make that three things, he forgot about the knife he always had with him.
He eventually seemed to have found what he was looking for and pulled out a lock pick set. Rodney's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? What if you break the lock and I will have to buy a new one to replace it? Or even better: What if the neighbors see us and call the police? I mean, look at us! You are picking a lock and look like some savage from godknowswhere and I'm standing here, a half dead kid in my arms!"
But Ronon had already begun to open the door. A quiet clicking noise told them that he had succeeded. "Huh. That was fast." Rodney said in what he never would admit to be awe. "Where did you learn that?"
"Told you I was one of those punks back in the day."
"What, those rascals have the ability to invade my home?"
"Don't know about them, but I do." Ronon smirked. Rodney made a mental note to buy an alarm system as soon as possible.
He handed John back to Ronon who carried him upstairs to the third floor where McKay had rented a nice and cozy flat. At least it had been nice and cozy when Dr. Jennifer Keller used to live there with him. But since she was gone and had taken all decorative items with her it rather looked like a mixture of a dormatory (with all the clothes lying around and the kitchen sink overflowing with dirty dishes) and the lab of a mad professor of mathematics (with blackboards and papers full of numbers occupying the whole living room).
Numbers and complicated equations had always been Rodney's passion, since he was a teenager. Maybe that was the reason he hadn't been the most popular kid in high school. "Where can put him?" Ronon's voice broke his train of thoughts. Well, he didn't really think about what to do with John after they got him to Rodney's apartment. It was obvious he needed medical attention and he was quite sure his living room was way too unsterile for the surgery to treat the broken arm. Ronon seemed to have the same thoughts because a moment later he said: "Call her already."
Her. That would be Dr. Keller. There was no bad blood between them after their break-up, but they weren't exactly friends either. McKay thought about whether to call her or not. She was a plastic surgeon who had her practice in one of the richer districts of the city. She had the operating room they needed right now. With a sigh he flipped his phone open and dialed her number. "This boy better be thankful for what I'm doing to help him." He said in a bitter tone.
Jennifer didn't sound thrilled at the idea of performing surgery on a total stranger who had an odd aversion to hospitals but she agreed to let Rodney and Ronon use her practice to help this boy. After a short drive (Rodney took the bus instead of walking again, even if he hated being cooped up with a lot of far too smelly people he didn't even know) they all arrived at their destination.
x - x - x
The surgery went pretty uneventful and they were able to make sure John wouldn't have to deal with any late sequela of this fracture. But Rodney was still worried about the infection. He talked Jennifer into prescribing antibiotics which hopefully would cure the blazing fever John still had.
"What are you gonna do with him now?" Jennifer asked.
"Take him home and hope he won't die on me. I would prefer not to explain to anybody why there is a dead teenager on my sofa."
"What about his parents?"
"What about them? I don't know his last name, I don't even know if he has parents."
"But if he does, don't you think they'd like to know what's happening with their son? You should call Lorne."
"Lorne is a policeman, he would ask questions I can't answer. I don't know why this boy refuses to go to a decent hospital, but I have a feeling that he somehow wouldn't be too keen on a policeman checking out his personal data. Maybe he is some sort of wanted criminal and if I turn him in his gang will be after me!" Rodney emphasized his words by making wild gestures with his hands.
"You know Evan wouldn't tell anybody if you asked him not to. Maybe he will be able to find out who this boy is."
At this point Ronon jumped in. "She's right, we should bring the kid back to your apartment and ask Lorne to come by."
"Fine. But if I get killed by gangsters in the course of a vendetta, you two are not invited to my funeral."
"I can live with that." Ronon grinned and lifted John up from the gurney he had been lying on.
x - x - x
Back at the flat they placed the still anesthetized John on the couch. Despite his lean figure the seat seemed to be slightly too narrow for his body because his arm with the cast on constantly slipped to the side and hit the floor.
"Maybe we should lay him down in my bed." Rodney mumbled thoughtful.
Rodney shot him a bewildered look.
"What?"
"And where do you plan to sleep then?"
"I don't have a broken arm, I can sleep here."
Ronon raised an eyebrow at that. "What about your sensitive back?"
"It's gonna rebel against the bad cushioning, but I will survive."
Ronon shrugged and together they brought John into Rodney's bedroom. After putting him under the covers there was a moment of silence between the two of them.
"Why are you doing this?" Ronon asked quietly.
McKay warily rubbed at this eyes with one hand. "I don't know. I really don't. He needed help and I had this strange urge to rescue him. I think I saw something there in his eyes."
Ronon nodded as if he could understand. But how could he? Rodney himself didn't even understand the situation.
"I'll call Evan." Ronon said and left Rodney with John as he went to the living room to make the call.
x - x - x
Evan Lorne was a local police officer and a loyal friend. The latter was the reason he immediately dropped whatever he was doing when Ronon called him and came to Rodney's apartment. Dex had been pretty mysterious about what was going on. He only told him not to bring anybody with him. Normally he would have refused taking such a risk, but given it was Ronon, a man he trusted with his life, he agreed.
When he arrived he noticed that McKay looked a little bit nervous and was fidgeting more than usually. He wondered if that was a bad sign.
"Spill the beans. Why am I here? Did you two do something illegal?"
"NO!" Rodney almost screamed. "I'm shocked you think about us this way. Like we ever would..."
"Tell me then. What is it?"
"We have to ask a favor of you, man." Ronon replied before Rodney could continue his rant.
"Okay... so, what is it?"
Ronon didn't answer and just went over to the bedroom door, opened it and motioned for Lorne to step in, which he did.
Inside a boy, looking feverish, lay in Rodney's bed under the blanket. Evan turned around with a questioning look on his face. "Who's that?"
"Well, we hoped you could help us find out." Rodney said.
"Where did you find him? And why does he look like he's about to kick the bucket?"
McKay told the whole story for the third time this day. When he finished Lorne thoughtfully looked back at John. "Did he have something with him? Like a wallet or something?"
"No, he only had a jacket."
"Can I see it?"
"Sure" Rodney went into the living room to get the jacket. When he came back he handed it over to Evan. He turned it in his hands until he saw the icon at the back.
"Okay, here we have the explanation." He said and showed them the symbol.
"What is it?"
"It's the emblem of a group of teenagers who caused a little bit of trouble all over the city recently. Things like shop lifting and vandalism, nothing too bad. We think they all are orphans or live on the streets."
"Wait, you mean this kid could be the punk who deflated my tires last night?" Rodney looked shocked. "Just once I decide to do something good to the people around me and I end up with nursing a criminal? See, that's exactly why I'm not nice to people. Most of them..."
"McKay, knock it off." Ronon interrupted. He turned to face Lorne. "What are we going to do now?"
"For now, not much. He obviously isn't in the state to walk out of this door right now. Call me if he wakes up and is responsive again. I have to go back to the police department now if that's all."
"Yup, you can leave. Thanks buddy." Ronon clapped him on the shoulder.
Before Rodney could even think of something to say Evan was on his way back to work. Then he realized what Lorne had just told them.
"No way he stays here. What if he wakes up and tries to kill me?"
"McKay, how is he supposed to do that with his arm in a cast and fever?"
"I don't know, but I don't want to try that one out. He can't stay."
"You decided to help him, you can't go back now. Listen, I have to go now, too. Call me if he starts an attempt to strangle you or something."
"Oh, yeah, very funny, why don't you all just leave and let me deal with the sick criminal?"
But Ronon was already out the door.
He went back into the living room and started pacing for a while. His next shift wasn't due until tomorrow night, so he had nothing to do right now. He sighed and went over to one of his blackboards and started perfecting a calculation he had left unfinished.
x - x - x