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Title: Unspoken
Author: Chaps1870
Pairing: Rodney/Carson Sheppard Friendship
Rating: R for language
Summary: After finding out about Rodney and Carson’s relationship, John’s friendship with Rodney is threatened.
Disclaimer: They belong to someone else, I’ll return them when I’m done….maybe. No infringement of copyright is intended.
A/N Two more chapters after this one and this beast will be finished.
Chapter 22
John wondered what it was about staying in the infirmary that always had him waking in the middle of the night. He blinked back the grogginess and felt only a vague twinge of pain from his ribs as he shifted on the bed. Carson must not be too mad if he got the good drugs. It was a little unnerving to have Rodney’s boyfriend as a doctor and John worried that Beckett would somehow blame him because Rodney had been hurt. Being on Carson’s bad side was not a good thing since he spent about as much time in the infirmary as McKay.
At the thought of McKay, he grabbed for the rail and stiffly pulled himself up until he was sitting. It was a painful process despite the drugs, leaving him breathless and a bit dizzy. There was suddenly a hand on his back, holding him steady, “You shouldn’t be up. You have several broken ribs not to mention a seriously bruised back.”
“I got that part,” hissed Sheppard, looking up at Carson. “How’s Rodney?”
John felt the hand on his back tense before it was pulled away. Carson busied himself with checking over his patient as he answered, “He’s suffered a nasty concussion.”
Lowering himself to his back, John covered his face with a forearm. “I’m sorry, Carson. I shouldn’t have let him haul me out of there.”
“And he’d be dead if you hadn’t. Dr. Borung says that there was no sign of any underground cities on the scans. I doubt if we’d of found you any time soon.” He paused, his voice thick as he continued, “Much longer and you’d have come back alone, Major. In addition to a concussion, his blood sugar alone was dangerously low.”
Swallowing hard, John avoided looking at Carson, “Is he gonna be okay?”
“It’s too early to say. We’re doin’ all we can for him. It’s more a matter of waiting than anything.” Carson’s voice broke a bit and he turned away, pulling the sheet from Major Sheppard’s legs so he could exam them. His professional tone returned as he questioned John, occasionally poking his foot or leg with a pin. “Can you feel that?”
“It’s a pressure more than a pain. I know you’re doing something but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Well at least you feel something, that’s a good sign.”
“How long before I can walk?” asked John, apprehensively and not with a little bit of worry. It was the first indication that the Major was concerned for himself.
“You took a rather serious blow to your back and the nerves were damaged.” Noticing the alarm in John’s face, Carson quickly reassured him, “It’s nothing long term and Dr. Mills has you on steroids to help with the swelling. Once that goes down, she’ll start you on some physical therapy to regain mobility and range of motion.” He patted the Major’s arm, and smiled knowingly, “You’ll walk again, Major. It’s just going to take some time.”
Carson covered him back up and raised the dosage of painkiller, noting the tightness in the Major’s face. “Try to get some rest and I’ll look in on you in the morning.”
As he reached to pull the curtain around the bed, John asked quietly, “Can I see him?”
Shaking his head, Carson answered back softly, “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll talk with Dr. Mills and see what she says, but I can’t make any promises.”
John nodded, his eyes becoming unfocused as the medicine began to take hold of him. “Take care of him. He uh…he deserves it.”
“Aye, he does,” said Carson, tenderly. “Goodnight, Major.”
“Night, Doc.”
Carson left Sheppard and returned to Rodney, having spent every moment possible at his bedside. It was difficult to see Rodney so still and pale, but he couldn’t stay away. He stood over his lover, reaching out to brush his face, the rough stubble catching his fingers. Tracing his jaw, Carson’s fingers lingered for several moments before he leaned over and lightly kissed Rodney’s dry, chapped lips. There was no response and Carson let his head rest on Rodney’s forehead, careful of the white bandage that covered one side. He stayed that way for several minutes until his back protested. Pulling a chair close, he sat staring at his lover, his eyes reflecting the sadness and despair he was feeling.
It was always difficult to remain professional when it was Rodney lying in one of the infirmary beds, but never had he felt so helpless. There was no miracle cure or easy solution this time. He could ease a patient’s pain. He could prescribe medication to alleviate symptoms. He could even offer comfort when necessary to a patient’s well being. But now…now all he could do was sit and wait. Wait and hope that Rodney would wake and still be himself.
Head wounds were always unpredictable and there were no guarantees that the patient would wake and be who they always were. There were so many possible outcomes that Carson had to force himself not to dwell on all the ‘what ifs’. Reaching out, he took Rodney’s limp hand in his own and brought it to his cheek. Holding it gently, he spoke in low tones, his voice barely audible as he talked about anything and everything that crossed his mind.
*******
By weeks end, everyone had developed a routine. During the day Rodney was never alone. Someone would sit at his bedside, talking to him, reading to him or watching DVD’s with him. Teyla and Ford devoted all their free time sitting with Rodney or visiting Major Sheppard. At first Carson tried to spend 24/7 with him but the Major finally convinced him that running himself ragged would do McKay no good. John reasoned that since he had to stay in the infirmary it was just as easy for him to sit up at night with Rodney rather than Carson. He could sleep during the day, Carson couldn’t.
The man was wearing himself out doing his normal duties and still tending to Rodney. With the new arrangement, he could sit with Rodney during the day when nothing else needed his attention. He stayed until late in the evening before turning the job over to John. Even then he refused to leave the infirmary. After he was found on the couch in his office several mornings in a row, his colleagues delegated a bed in the corner of the infirmary for his personal use.
John would sit with Rodney every night, talking or watching movies, teasing his teammate as though he were actually conscious of everything. In the wee hours of the morning when it was only John awake, he’d talk to Rodney. Tell him about his youth, his life, his screw ups but mostly he’d talked about how much he missed his friend and how when he woke they’d figure out how to fix everything back the way it should be.
Teyla sat with him during the day, telling him of the Athosians and all the latest happenings on the mainland. Reminding him of all the little things they’d discussed during their practice sessions and how many of his suggestions were being used to benefit her people. When she ran out of news she told him how much she missed him and how badly she wanted him to wake.
Ford bounced around his bed, talking military, saying hello for all the soldiers who asked about the scientist every day. He talked about the latest gossip, who was doing who and what the grapevine was saying. When the conversation dwindled he sat quietly, telling stories about his family and his childhood until someone arrived to relieve him.
Doctor Weir and Doctor Zelenka also visited daily, sharing news in the time they had. Others came and went, but Rodney was never alone. Carson sat through much of it, marveling at the number of people that visited day after day and their genuine concern for Rodney. A week turned to two and Carson tried his best to hold on to his hope. The latest scans showed marked decreases in the swelling and Carson could only sit, praying that Rodney would wake.
********
It was almost four o’clock in the morning and John Sheppard was sitting at McKay’s bedside, rambling. His chin resting on the bedrail, his finger poked Rodney lightly in the side as he talked.
“Come on, McKay. It’s time to wake up. I’m getting tired of carrying the conversation every night. It’s time to put that super brain to work. I’m all set to hear all your bitching and moaning about every little thing. It’s just not the same without you.” He continued prodding Rodney. “The sooner you wake up the sooner we can get out on missions again. Okay, so we haven’t really discussed that yet but I was thinking that you really should reconsider. Look how great you did on the last one, head wound not withstanding. None of us would have gotten outta there when we did if it hadn’t been for you. Carson wasn’t too pleased by the way, but he hasn’t come at me with any big needles so I figure I must have earned some brownie points somewhere along the line.”
John was absently picking at Rodney’s sheets as he continued to talk, “I want you to know that I’m sorry for making you haul me outta there. Carson said we didn’t have a choice. You could’ve said no, but you didn’t. You had to play the hero and look where it lands you. Next time I get to play the hero.”
“Deal.” It was soft, barely whispered.
Jerking to his feet and almost landing on his face, John grabbed for the rail to hold himself up. His eyes darted to Rodney’s face, but he lay perfectly still and he wondered if the late nights were catching up with him and he was hallucinating or he was simply hearing what he wanted to. He leaned closer, wincing a bit as it stretched his ribs and pulled at his back. “Rodney, wake up.”
“Only if you shut up and let me sleep,” slurred Rodney, his lips barely moving as he muttered.
John jumped back, yelling anxiously, “CARSON!”
Rodney winced, grabbing for his head and finding he didn’t have energy to lift his hand. Turning back to Rodney, John noted his pained expression. “How you feeling?”
“Head hurts. Thirsty. Tired.” His voice was already drifting back into sleep.
John reached for a glass of water and pressed the straw to Rodney’s lips. He drank slowly as if it were an effort to do something so simple, reminding Sheppard of the gravity of Rodney’s condition. Impatient, he shouted for Carson again. Rodney moaned, “Stop yelling…please.” He rolled and curled onto his side, his breathing shallow.
Carson stepped around the curtain, slightly out of breath and alarmed. “What are you shouting about, Maj… “ His expression changed to concern as he noticed Rodney was curled up on the bed. He rushed forward, taking Rodney’s wrist and checking his pulse then quickly glanced monitors to assure himself everything was normal. “Rodney?”
Rodney uncurled but didn’t open his eyes. “Carson.” His voice was strained and pain filled.
Dropping a hand on Rodney’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, Carson asked worriedly, “Are you in pain?”
Barely nodding, he answered, “Headache.”
“Let me get you something.” Carson pulled his hand away and Rodney made a feeble attempt to grab for it. Grasping his hand, Carson smiled warmly and said softly, “I’ll be right back.”
Watching the exchange, Sheppard shifted uncomfortably. Carson caught it, seeing the real reason behind his discomfort. “You shouldn’t be standing, Major. I expect you’ll be back in your chair when I return.” He gently patted Rodney’s arm as he leaned over him, “I’ll be right back, luv.”
He returned shortly and quickly injected the medication into Rodney’s IV, happy to note that the Major was once again sitting in his wheelchair. “That should help. I’d rather not give you anything stronger.” He rubbed Rodney’s arm in comforting strokes.
Rodney sighed, “Hmm. Better.” His eyes fluttered and his breathing eased off into sleep. Carson’s hand lingered and his body lost the tension it had been feeling the last two weeks. He’d forgotten the Major was still nearby and was startled when he spoke, “Is he gonna be uh…okay?”
Carson reluctantly pulled his eyes from Rodney to answer and a slow smile graced his face as he fought back tears, “Aye, he will be.”
***
The noises in the infirmary aggravated the scientist’s headache every time he woke and isolating him from the worst of it seemed the only way, so Carson had moved him to his own private room that same evening. Rodney was cranky and irritable and just wanted to be left alone. For the first time in almost three weeks, Carson went home and slept in his own bed, assured that Rodney would still be with them in the morning.
Major Sheppard arrived a couple hours later in his wheelchair. Carson allowed him several hours a day out of the infirmary but still wouldn’t let him to stay in his own quarters, not trusting him to take care of himself yet. Not that it mattered. He’d been spending his nights keeping McKay company and even with Rodney awake now, old habits were hard to break. So at ten o’clock he was on his way to the scientist’s private room to check on him and see if he was awake.
He opened the door without thinking about it and wheeled into the dimly lit room. Rodney was laying away from him, but he couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not. John called out softly, “McKay, you up?”
The noise seemed to startle him and he sat up sharply, hastily rubbing his eyes. Clearing his throat, Rodney answered hoarsely, “What do you want, Major?”
Moving closer, John noticed the slight puffiness in Rodney’s eyes, but it was hard to tell anything in the low light. Rodney’s voice sounded a bit raw, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything considering he hadn’t spoken much in the last three weeks. “Nothing. Just seeing if you were up. I got used to our late night conversations.”
Rodney turned away as John got closer and laid back down, rolling away as he spoke, “Well, it’s not really necessary any more and I’m uh…tired.”
The lack of sarcasm was enough to convince John that something was wrong. “You okay?”
Waving off Sheppard’s concern, Rodney said wearily with only a small catch in his voice, “It’s been a long day. I just…I’m tired is all.” John was almost certain Rodney was going to say something else and had changed his mind. Lifting up on one elbow, Rodney added, “I’ll see…” Rodney dropped his head, his voice lower when he finished. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Realization dawned and John hesitated, “You’ll see again, McKay.”
“Yes well, that remains to be seen, Major. Whereas you have some feeling in your legs there’s nothing but darkness here.” He waved his hand in front of his open eyes. “So you’ll excuse me if I’m not as optimistic about a future in weaving.” Realizing he’d gone off on the Major, Rodney sighed heavily and flopped back on the bed, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
John cut him off, adding sympathetically, “I know. I have my own moments of self pity and frustration so it’s not like I don’t understand.” He rolled towards the door. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
Rodney just nodded and curled up on the bed. John quietly left the room and shut the door behind him before going in search of Carson. He arrived ten minutes later, looking like he’d been pulled from sleep. Finding Sheppard in his bed, Carson eyed him suspiciously. “This had better be important enough to drag me from my bed, Major.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, Doc,” John said sheepishly. Looking towards McKay’s room he forged ahead. “Has anyone talked to Rodney about his eyes yet?”
“We were more concerned with his headaches. He was still pretty out of it today.”
“I think he’s had time to think about it now and he’s worried,” hedged John.
“He’s been awfully quiet all day. I thought he was just tired,” said Carson, trying to convince himself as much as anybody. He turned his head toward Rodney’s room, his concern mounting. “Did he say something then?”
“Not really, but he was obviously upset...” John couldn’t vocalize the fact that he thought McKay had been crying earlier. It was enough for Carson to know Rodney was upset. The Major shrugged, “Just go check on him would you, Carson?”
“Aye. I’ll see what I can do.” Carson started to leave and turned back, “Thank you for calling me, Major.”
Carson opened the door and cautiously entered Rodney’s room. He was greeted by a rather abrupt response, “I thought you were going to leave me alone, Major.”
“Rodney?”
Rodney tensed in surprise at first and then he answered, his voice was quiet, “Carson. What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check on you.” He moved next to Rodney’s bed and sat at the edge, his hand reaching out in automatic comfort.
Relaxing under Carson’s touch, Rodney spoke, “You should be sleeping.”
“Aye, so should you.” His hand drifted to Rodney’s face and caressing his cheek, found the moisture he suspected would be there. Carson’s shoulders dropped and he briefly closed his eyes before gathering himself to speak, “What’s bothering you so much that you rather lay here in the dark by yourself being miserable than call me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you.” Even as he spoke, Rodney edged closer to Carson, his back pressing against the doctor’s leg where he sat on the bed.
Running his fingers through Rodney’s hair, Carson smiled warmly, “You’re not a bother. I’m worried about you. Now tell me what’s wrong?”
Rodney shifted and rolled over, using Carson’s leg to rest his head on. His words were a mere whisper with a catch in his breath, “I can’t see, Carson.”
“Oh luv, I know you’re worried, but your scans are looking better every day. You took some serious blows to your head. It’s just going to take time to heal. Dr. Mills doesn’t think it’s permanent and I trust her.” Reaching for the bed controls, Carson lifted the head of the bed and scooted back, helping Rodney do the same. Kissing his brow, Carson leaned back and let Rodney settle against his side. “There, that’s better.”
The sigh from Rodney was enough to show that the man needed the closeness more than any words could say. Carson needed it too. Three weeks of sitting at his bedside unable to hold his lover and knowing he might never get the chance again had taken its toll on the Carson. This was the first time since Rodney been hurt that they’d had any privacy. While the infirmary wasn’t the ideal place, it wasn’t enough to dissuade him from comforting Rodney. They both needed this time.
As if in response to his fears, the lights dimmed. Carson looked up in time to see the door slide shut and the single window to Rodney’s room darken. A shadow settled outside the opaque door, guarding it. Shaking his head, Carson chuckled inwardly knowing only one person that could control Atlantis so easily. It was oddly comforting to have the added protection, especially considering the source. Carson turned his attention back to the man in his arms and a shiver passed over him as he thought how close he’d come to losing the most important person in his life.
Draped over Carson, Rodney could feel him trembling. “What’s wrong?”
“You had me worried.” Carson pulled him closer, tightening his embrace and his voice faltered, “Don’t do that to me again.”
“Well it’s not like I planned it. Not exactly something I’d go out and do again, believe me.”
“I know that, but the thought of losing you…” Carson’s breath hitched and his emotions threatened to overflow. Regaining some control, he hugged Rodney close, “I know you’re worried but I have faith that you’ll see again and I’ll be here for you. Don’t be afraid to ask.”
“I wasn’t afraid, Carson. I just didn’t want to bother you.” Rodney yawned, unable to hide the tiredness he was still feeling.
Burying his head into Rodney’s shoulder, Carson smiled, “Why don’t you get some sleep."
Rodney relaxed, his breathing evening out as sleep claimed him. Carson tried to slip away after a time but Rodney sensed it and grabbed for him. There was a quiet desperation in his voice, “Stay.”
It wasn’t like a sacrifice on his part. Carson wanted to stay as badly as Rodney wanted him to and his lover’s quiet plea was enough to convince him. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, sinking into the bed behind Rodney. His arm draped Rodney’s waist, pulling him closer to rest a head on his shoulder. “Aye. I’ll stay, luv. Just sleep. I’ll be here.”
The next morning he left Rodney’s room before the infirmary came to life and found Major Sheppard parked outside the room, his head resting on his chest and snoring lightly. Dropping his hand on the man’s shoulder, he gave him a gentle shake. John jerked awake, disoriented for a moment before he twisted his head back to look up at who had woken him Bleary eyed, he smiled, “Hey, Carson.”
“Major.”
Reaching for the back of his neck, Sheppard rolled his head to ease the stiffness. A groan escaped along with a chuckle from Dr. Beckett. “While I appreciate the sentiment, we provide beds for a reason, Major.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I must have fallen asleep in the chair.”
Patting the Major’s shoulder, Carson said affectionately, “Of course you did.” He hesitated, then added quietly, “Thank you.” Grabbing the chair, he pushed John towards his bed.
John flashed a self-satisfied grin. “So how’s he doing?”
Carson’s smile was genuine, “Better.”
“Nothing like a little TLC, hey Doc?”
Cuffing him lightly, Carson retorted, “Cheeky bugger.”
Rubbing the offended spot, John was still smiling, “So you think he’s up for company today?”
Arriving at the Major’s Sheppard bed, Carson helped him get settled, noting how much better he was doing. He’d have to talk with Dr. Mills about advancing his physical therapy. “I think you need to get some sleep, Major. In a real bed,” retorted Carson.
John sank into bed, suppressing a yawn with a stubborn look. Carson rolled his eyes. “After you’ve slept then we’ll discuss visiting privileges.”
“Fair enough, Doc.” His eyes were drifting shut as Carson left to change clothes and grab a bite to eat, his step much lighter than it had been in weeks.
Author: Chaps1870
Pairing: Rodney/Carson Sheppard Friendship
Rating: R for language
Summary: After finding out about Rodney and Carson’s relationship, John’s friendship with Rodney is threatened.
Disclaimer: They belong to someone else, I’ll return them when I’m done….maybe. No infringement of copyright is intended.
A/N Two more chapters after this one and this beast will be finished.
Chapter 22
John wondered what it was about staying in the infirmary that always had him waking in the middle of the night. He blinked back the grogginess and felt only a vague twinge of pain from his ribs as he shifted on the bed. Carson must not be too mad if he got the good drugs. It was a little unnerving to have Rodney’s boyfriend as a doctor and John worried that Beckett would somehow blame him because Rodney had been hurt. Being on Carson’s bad side was not a good thing since he spent about as much time in the infirmary as McKay.
At the thought of McKay, he grabbed for the rail and stiffly pulled himself up until he was sitting. It was a painful process despite the drugs, leaving him breathless and a bit dizzy. There was suddenly a hand on his back, holding him steady, “You shouldn’t be up. You have several broken ribs not to mention a seriously bruised back.”
“I got that part,” hissed Sheppard, looking up at Carson. “How’s Rodney?”
John felt the hand on his back tense before it was pulled away. Carson busied himself with checking over his patient as he answered, “He’s suffered a nasty concussion.”
Lowering himself to his back, John covered his face with a forearm. “I’m sorry, Carson. I shouldn’t have let him haul me out of there.”
“And he’d be dead if you hadn’t. Dr. Borung says that there was no sign of any underground cities on the scans. I doubt if we’d of found you any time soon.” He paused, his voice thick as he continued, “Much longer and you’d have come back alone, Major. In addition to a concussion, his blood sugar alone was dangerously low.”
Swallowing hard, John avoided looking at Carson, “Is he gonna be okay?”
“It’s too early to say. We’re doin’ all we can for him. It’s more a matter of waiting than anything.” Carson’s voice broke a bit and he turned away, pulling the sheet from Major Sheppard’s legs so he could exam them. His professional tone returned as he questioned John, occasionally poking his foot or leg with a pin. “Can you feel that?”
“It’s a pressure more than a pain. I know you’re doing something but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Well at least you feel something, that’s a good sign.”
“How long before I can walk?” asked John, apprehensively and not with a little bit of worry. It was the first indication that the Major was concerned for himself.
“You took a rather serious blow to your back and the nerves were damaged.” Noticing the alarm in John’s face, Carson quickly reassured him, “It’s nothing long term and Dr. Mills has you on steroids to help with the swelling. Once that goes down, she’ll start you on some physical therapy to regain mobility and range of motion.” He patted the Major’s arm, and smiled knowingly, “You’ll walk again, Major. It’s just going to take some time.”
Carson covered him back up and raised the dosage of painkiller, noting the tightness in the Major’s face. “Try to get some rest and I’ll look in on you in the morning.”
As he reached to pull the curtain around the bed, John asked quietly, “Can I see him?”
Shaking his head, Carson answered back softly, “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll talk with Dr. Mills and see what she says, but I can’t make any promises.”
John nodded, his eyes becoming unfocused as the medicine began to take hold of him. “Take care of him. He uh…he deserves it.”
“Aye, he does,” said Carson, tenderly. “Goodnight, Major.”
“Night, Doc.”
Carson left Sheppard and returned to Rodney, having spent every moment possible at his bedside. It was difficult to see Rodney so still and pale, but he couldn’t stay away. He stood over his lover, reaching out to brush his face, the rough stubble catching his fingers. Tracing his jaw, Carson’s fingers lingered for several moments before he leaned over and lightly kissed Rodney’s dry, chapped lips. There was no response and Carson let his head rest on Rodney’s forehead, careful of the white bandage that covered one side. He stayed that way for several minutes until his back protested. Pulling a chair close, he sat staring at his lover, his eyes reflecting the sadness and despair he was feeling.
It was always difficult to remain professional when it was Rodney lying in one of the infirmary beds, but never had he felt so helpless. There was no miracle cure or easy solution this time. He could ease a patient’s pain. He could prescribe medication to alleviate symptoms. He could even offer comfort when necessary to a patient’s well being. But now…now all he could do was sit and wait. Wait and hope that Rodney would wake and still be himself.
Head wounds were always unpredictable and there were no guarantees that the patient would wake and be who they always were. There were so many possible outcomes that Carson had to force himself not to dwell on all the ‘what ifs’. Reaching out, he took Rodney’s limp hand in his own and brought it to his cheek. Holding it gently, he spoke in low tones, his voice barely audible as he talked about anything and everything that crossed his mind.
*******
By weeks end, everyone had developed a routine. During the day Rodney was never alone. Someone would sit at his bedside, talking to him, reading to him or watching DVD’s with him. Teyla and Ford devoted all their free time sitting with Rodney or visiting Major Sheppard. At first Carson tried to spend 24/7 with him but the Major finally convinced him that running himself ragged would do McKay no good. John reasoned that since he had to stay in the infirmary it was just as easy for him to sit up at night with Rodney rather than Carson. He could sleep during the day, Carson couldn’t.
The man was wearing himself out doing his normal duties and still tending to Rodney. With the new arrangement, he could sit with Rodney during the day when nothing else needed his attention. He stayed until late in the evening before turning the job over to John. Even then he refused to leave the infirmary. After he was found on the couch in his office several mornings in a row, his colleagues delegated a bed in the corner of the infirmary for his personal use.
John would sit with Rodney every night, talking or watching movies, teasing his teammate as though he were actually conscious of everything. In the wee hours of the morning when it was only John awake, he’d talk to Rodney. Tell him about his youth, his life, his screw ups but mostly he’d talked about how much he missed his friend and how when he woke they’d figure out how to fix everything back the way it should be.
Teyla sat with him during the day, telling him of the Athosians and all the latest happenings on the mainland. Reminding him of all the little things they’d discussed during their practice sessions and how many of his suggestions were being used to benefit her people. When she ran out of news she told him how much she missed him and how badly she wanted him to wake.
Ford bounced around his bed, talking military, saying hello for all the soldiers who asked about the scientist every day. He talked about the latest gossip, who was doing who and what the grapevine was saying. When the conversation dwindled he sat quietly, telling stories about his family and his childhood until someone arrived to relieve him.
Doctor Weir and Doctor Zelenka also visited daily, sharing news in the time they had. Others came and went, but Rodney was never alone. Carson sat through much of it, marveling at the number of people that visited day after day and their genuine concern for Rodney. A week turned to two and Carson tried his best to hold on to his hope. The latest scans showed marked decreases in the swelling and Carson could only sit, praying that Rodney would wake.
********
It was almost four o’clock in the morning and John Sheppard was sitting at McKay’s bedside, rambling. His chin resting on the bedrail, his finger poked Rodney lightly in the side as he talked.
“Come on, McKay. It’s time to wake up. I’m getting tired of carrying the conversation every night. It’s time to put that super brain to work. I’m all set to hear all your bitching and moaning about every little thing. It’s just not the same without you.” He continued prodding Rodney. “The sooner you wake up the sooner we can get out on missions again. Okay, so we haven’t really discussed that yet but I was thinking that you really should reconsider. Look how great you did on the last one, head wound not withstanding. None of us would have gotten outta there when we did if it hadn’t been for you. Carson wasn’t too pleased by the way, but he hasn’t come at me with any big needles so I figure I must have earned some brownie points somewhere along the line.”
John was absently picking at Rodney’s sheets as he continued to talk, “I want you to know that I’m sorry for making you haul me outta there. Carson said we didn’t have a choice. You could’ve said no, but you didn’t. You had to play the hero and look where it lands you. Next time I get to play the hero.”
“Deal.” It was soft, barely whispered.
Jerking to his feet and almost landing on his face, John grabbed for the rail to hold himself up. His eyes darted to Rodney’s face, but he lay perfectly still and he wondered if the late nights were catching up with him and he was hallucinating or he was simply hearing what he wanted to. He leaned closer, wincing a bit as it stretched his ribs and pulled at his back. “Rodney, wake up.”
“Only if you shut up and let me sleep,” slurred Rodney, his lips barely moving as he muttered.
John jumped back, yelling anxiously, “CARSON!”
Rodney winced, grabbing for his head and finding he didn’t have energy to lift his hand. Turning back to Rodney, John noted his pained expression. “How you feeling?”
“Head hurts. Thirsty. Tired.” His voice was already drifting back into sleep.
John reached for a glass of water and pressed the straw to Rodney’s lips. He drank slowly as if it were an effort to do something so simple, reminding Sheppard of the gravity of Rodney’s condition. Impatient, he shouted for Carson again. Rodney moaned, “Stop yelling…please.” He rolled and curled onto his side, his breathing shallow.
Carson stepped around the curtain, slightly out of breath and alarmed. “What are you shouting about, Maj… “ His expression changed to concern as he noticed Rodney was curled up on the bed. He rushed forward, taking Rodney’s wrist and checking his pulse then quickly glanced monitors to assure himself everything was normal. “Rodney?”
Rodney uncurled but didn’t open his eyes. “Carson.” His voice was strained and pain filled.
Dropping a hand on Rodney’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, Carson asked worriedly, “Are you in pain?”
Barely nodding, he answered, “Headache.”
“Let me get you something.” Carson pulled his hand away and Rodney made a feeble attempt to grab for it. Grasping his hand, Carson smiled warmly and said softly, “I’ll be right back.”
Watching the exchange, Sheppard shifted uncomfortably. Carson caught it, seeing the real reason behind his discomfort. “You shouldn’t be standing, Major. I expect you’ll be back in your chair when I return.” He gently patted Rodney’s arm as he leaned over him, “I’ll be right back, luv.”
He returned shortly and quickly injected the medication into Rodney’s IV, happy to note that the Major was once again sitting in his wheelchair. “That should help. I’d rather not give you anything stronger.” He rubbed Rodney’s arm in comforting strokes.
Rodney sighed, “Hmm. Better.” His eyes fluttered and his breathing eased off into sleep. Carson’s hand lingered and his body lost the tension it had been feeling the last two weeks. He’d forgotten the Major was still nearby and was startled when he spoke, “Is he gonna be uh…okay?”
Carson reluctantly pulled his eyes from Rodney to answer and a slow smile graced his face as he fought back tears, “Aye, he will be.”
***
The noises in the infirmary aggravated the scientist’s headache every time he woke and isolating him from the worst of it seemed the only way, so Carson had moved him to his own private room that same evening. Rodney was cranky and irritable and just wanted to be left alone. For the first time in almost three weeks, Carson went home and slept in his own bed, assured that Rodney would still be with them in the morning.
Major Sheppard arrived a couple hours later in his wheelchair. Carson allowed him several hours a day out of the infirmary but still wouldn’t let him to stay in his own quarters, not trusting him to take care of himself yet. Not that it mattered. He’d been spending his nights keeping McKay company and even with Rodney awake now, old habits were hard to break. So at ten o’clock he was on his way to the scientist’s private room to check on him and see if he was awake.
He opened the door without thinking about it and wheeled into the dimly lit room. Rodney was laying away from him, but he couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not. John called out softly, “McKay, you up?”
The noise seemed to startle him and he sat up sharply, hastily rubbing his eyes. Clearing his throat, Rodney answered hoarsely, “What do you want, Major?”
Moving closer, John noticed the slight puffiness in Rodney’s eyes, but it was hard to tell anything in the low light. Rodney’s voice sounded a bit raw, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything considering he hadn’t spoken much in the last three weeks. “Nothing. Just seeing if you were up. I got used to our late night conversations.”
Rodney turned away as John got closer and laid back down, rolling away as he spoke, “Well, it’s not really necessary any more and I’m uh…tired.”
The lack of sarcasm was enough to convince John that something was wrong. “You okay?”
Waving off Sheppard’s concern, Rodney said wearily with only a small catch in his voice, “It’s been a long day. I just…I’m tired is all.” John was almost certain Rodney was going to say something else and had changed his mind. Lifting up on one elbow, Rodney added, “I’ll see…” Rodney dropped his head, his voice lower when he finished. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Realization dawned and John hesitated, “You’ll see again, McKay.”
“Yes well, that remains to be seen, Major. Whereas you have some feeling in your legs there’s nothing but darkness here.” He waved his hand in front of his open eyes. “So you’ll excuse me if I’m not as optimistic about a future in weaving.” Realizing he’d gone off on the Major, Rodney sighed heavily and flopped back on the bed, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”
John cut him off, adding sympathetically, “I know. I have my own moments of self pity and frustration so it’s not like I don’t understand.” He rolled towards the door. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
Rodney just nodded and curled up on the bed. John quietly left the room and shut the door behind him before going in search of Carson. He arrived ten minutes later, looking like he’d been pulled from sleep. Finding Sheppard in his bed, Carson eyed him suspiciously. “This had better be important enough to drag me from my bed, Major.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, Doc,” John said sheepishly. Looking towards McKay’s room he forged ahead. “Has anyone talked to Rodney about his eyes yet?”
“We were more concerned with his headaches. He was still pretty out of it today.”
“I think he’s had time to think about it now and he’s worried,” hedged John.
“He’s been awfully quiet all day. I thought he was just tired,” said Carson, trying to convince himself as much as anybody. He turned his head toward Rodney’s room, his concern mounting. “Did he say something then?”
“Not really, but he was obviously upset...” John couldn’t vocalize the fact that he thought McKay had been crying earlier. It was enough for Carson to know Rodney was upset. The Major shrugged, “Just go check on him would you, Carson?”
“Aye. I’ll see what I can do.” Carson started to leave and turned back, “Thank you for calling me, Major.”
Carson opened the door and cautiously entered Rodney’s room. He was greeted by a rather abrupt response, “I thought you were going to leave me alone, Major.”
“Rodney?”
Rodney tensed in surprise at first and then he answered, his voice was quiet, “Carson. What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check on you.” He moved next to Rodney’s bed and sat at the edge, his hand reaching out in automatic comfort.
Relaxing under Carson’s touch, Rodney spoke, “You should be sleeping.”
“Aye, so should you.” His hand drifted to Rodney’s face and caressing his cheek, found the moisture he suspected would be there. Carson’s shoulders dropped and he briefly closed his eyes before gathering himself to speak, “What’s bothering you so much that you rather lay here in the dark by yourself being miserable than call me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you.” Even as he spoke, Rodney edged closer to Carson, his back pressing against the doctor’s leg where he sat on the bed.
Running his fingers through Rodney’s hair, Carson smiled warmly, “You’re not a bother. I’m worried about you. Now tell me what’s wrong?”
Rodney shifted and rolled over, using Carson’s leg to rest his head on. His words were a mere whisper with a catch in his breath, “I can’t see, Carson.”
“Oh luv, I know you’re worried, but your scans are looking better every day. You took some serious blows to your head. It’s just going to take time to heal. Dr. Mills doesn’t think it’s permanent and I trust her.” Reaching for the bed controls, Carson lifted the head of the bed and scooted back, helping Rodney do the same. Kissing his brow, Carson leaned back and let Rodney settle against his side. “There, that’s better.”
The sigh from Rodney was enough to show that the man needed the closeness more than any words could say. Carson needed it too. Three weeks of sitting at his bedside unable to hold his lover and knowing he might never get the chance again had taken its toll on the Carson. This was the first time since Rodney been hurt that they’d had any privacy. While the infirmary wasn’t the ideal place, it wasn’t enough to dissuade him from comforting Rodney. They both needed this time.
As if in response to his fears, the lights dimmed. Carson looked up in time to see the door slide shut and the single window to Rodney’s room darken. A shadow settled outside the opaque door, guarding it. Shaking his head, Carson chuckled inwardly knowing only one person that could control Atlantis so easily. It was oddly comforting to have the added protection, especially considering the source. Carson turned his attention back to the man in his arms and a shiver passed over him as he thought how close he’d come to losing the most important person in his life.
Draped over Carson, Rodney could feel him trembling. “What’s wrong?”
“You had me worried.” Carson pulled him closer, tightening his embrace and his voice faltered, “Don’t do that to me again.”
“Well it’s not like I planned it. Not exactly something I’d go out and do again, believe me.”
“I know that, but the thought of losing you…” Carson’s breath hitched and his emotions threatened to overflow. Regaining some control, he hugged Rodney close, “I know you’re worried but I have faith that you’ll see again and I’ll be here for you. Don’t be afraid to ask.”
“I wasn’t afraid, Carson. I just didn’t want to bother you.” Rodney yawned, unable to hide the tiredness he was still feeling.
Burying his head into Rodney’s shoulder, Carson smiled, “Why don’t you get some sleep."
Rodney relaxed, his breathing evening out as sleep claimed him. Carson tried to slip away after a time but Rodney sensed it and grabbed for him. There was a quiet desperation in his voice, “Stay.”
It wasn’t like a sacrifice on his part. Carson wanted to stay as badly as Rodney wanted him to and his lover’s quiet plea was enough to convince him. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, sinking into the bed behind Rodney. His arm draped Rodney’s waist, pulling him closer to rest a head on his shoulder. “Aye. I’ll stay, luv. Just sleep. I’ll be here.”
The next morning he left Rodney’s room before the infirmary came to life and found Major Sheppard parked outside the room, his head resting on his chest and snoring lightly. Dropping his hand on the man’s shoulder, he gave him a gentle shake. John jerked awake, disoriented for a moment before he twisted his head back to look up at who had woken him Bleary eyed, he smiled, “Hey, Carson.”
“Major.”
Reaching for the back of his neck, Sheppard rolled his head to ease the stiffness. A groan escaped along with a chuckle from Dr. Beckett. “While I appreciate the sentiment, we provide beds for a reason, Major.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I must have fallen asleep in the chair.”
Patting the Major’s shoulder, Carson said affectionately, “Of course you did.” He hesitated, then added quietly, “Thank you.” Grabbing the chair, he pushed John towards his bed.
John flashed a self-satisfied grin. “So how’s he doing?”
Carson’s smile was genuine, “Better.”
“Nothing like a little TLC, hey Doc?”
Cuffing him lightly, Carson retorted, “Cheeky bugger.”
Rubbing the offended spot, John was still smiling, “So you think he’s up for company today?”
Arriving at the Major’s Sheppard bed, Carson helped him get settled, noting how much better he was doing. He’d have to talk with Dr. Mills about advancing his physical therapy. “I think you need to get some sleep, Major. In a real bed,” retorted Carson.
John sank into bed, suppressing a yawn with a stubborn look. Carson rolled his eyes. “After you’ve slept then we’ll discuss visiting privileges.”
“Fair enough, Doc.” His eyes were drifting shut as Carson left to change clothes and grab a bite to eat, his step much lighter than it had been in weeks.
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