![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Surviving the Fall
Author: Chaps1870
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: McShep
Summary: Worst Case Scenario Challenge.
Disclaimer: The usual.
“They’re right behind you. Move!” shouted Sheppard, his eyes darting anxiously between Rodney and the devil dogs on the other side of the ravine.
They’d been minding there own business, returning from a trip to some rather dull ruins several miles from the gate when the dogs suddenly appeared. In the melee that followed, Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay had been separated from Teyla and Lieutenant Ford. Now they were simply trying to beat the dogs to the gate.
McKay was presently trying to maintain his balance while crossing a log that would hopefully put the river below between them and the dogs. The log was not very wide and rocked with each step. Rodney was probably moving faster than he should given the condition and width of the log, but adrenalin and vicious dogs provided enough incentive to outweigh the fear of dropping the twenty feet into the water. He was almost half way across when the dogs figured out their meal was about to get away and a couple of them ventured out onto the log intent on stopping their prey.
John lifted his weapon, shooting the lead dog off the log. Startled by the sound, Rodney looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening in terror. “Ohgodohgodohgod.”
“Keep moving. I’ll hold them off,” Sheppard shouted, totally in agreement with McKay’s mutterings. He’d thought by going first, he’d be the one to fall into the river if the log didn’t hold. Now he wished he’d let Rodney cross first. Taking aim, he shot the second dog and it dropped hard on the log, causing it to shift. Rodney yelped but kept his balance and tried to move faster. The third and fourth dog jumped over their fallen companion and rushed their prey.
Shooting the third turned out to be a mistake. Only wounded, the fallen dog clawed at the log as it started to slip off, rolling the log with each desperate attempt to stay atop it. Any other time it might have been funny to see McKay’s flailing arms as he tried to keep step like some lumberjack in a log rolling contest but at the moment it was painful to watch, knowing it was a losing battle.
As the dog lost its battle to stay aboard, the log suddenly stopped rolling. Unfortunately, McKay’s feet were still moving and as they grabbed only air, his face reflected the horror as he realized he’d just lost. His body succumbed to the force of gravity and slammed hard onto the log, knocking the wind out of him. John was actually amazed that he’d managed to land more on the log than off and only let himself breathe when he saw that McKay had stayed on the log. His second of awe was enough time for the fourth dog to attack.
Rodney was panic stricken, trying to take air into his oxygen starved lungs and grab for some purchase as the snarling dog latched onto his leg, ready to pull him back to his side of the river. Crying out as teeth sunk into his calf muscle, Rodney used his free leg to push away his attacker. Even a hard kick to the animal’s face didn’t deter it.
Pain glazed eyes stared up at John as Rodney pleaded desperately through gritted teeth, “Shoot it!”
Holding his P90 to his shoulder, Sheppard shouted above the snarling dogs all wanting a piece of McKay. “Stay down!” Rodney dropped his head as the dog continued to tear at his leg. His screams spurred Sheppard into action, and bullets ripped through flesh and bone, taking several dogs down on the first swipe, including the one attached to the scientist’s leg. Relieved of the dog, Rodney inched forward and froze, the ominous sound of cracking wood making his blood run cold. Looking at Major Sheppard, their eyes met for a split second before a sharp crack rent the air and McKay dropped the twenty feet into the raging river below.
“RODNEY!” screamed John, stopping short of the edge to see McKay hit the water and go under. There was no way to follow, the bank too steep and too far from the water to make for a safe landing. With no other option, Sheppard ran downriver, his eyes darting towards the churning water beneath him hoping to catch of glimpse of McKay.
He surfaced thirty yards away. Even from a distance, John could see Rodney gasping for air just as he went under again. Sheppard never stopping his headlong rush through the brush, ignoring everything but catching up to McKay. Clearing the trees, his way was suddenly unobstructed and with a burst of speed he could see the scientist below him. Seeing Rodney struggling to stay afloat, he yelled, “GET THE VEST OFF!”
The scientist must have heard him because Rodney floated to his back as best he could in the raging river and fumbled with the buckles on the vest. He went under again, and John rushed forward, running to keep up as his eyes darted up and down the river for a sign of him. Surfacing downstream, the vest popped up behind him and John sighed heavily, thankful for one less thing to drag McKay down. It seemed to be easier to stay afloat without the vest and Sheppard kept a steady pace with Rodney. There was still no way to get down to the river and looking ahead didn’t show much promise either.
Sheppard followed McKay for several more minutes his eyes focused on Rodney as he bobbed in the water, trying to avoid the bigger boulders that littered the river. Something nagged at the back of his brain until the growing noise became loud enough to pull it to the forefront of his consciousness and his heart skipped a beat.
His head jerked up and followed the flow of the river until it seemed to disappear. He reacted instantly, catching up with Rodney and crouching low as he ran, hoping the few extra inches would make a difference. “Swim to shore, McKay. You gotta get out of the river.”
Hearing Sheppard’s panicked voice, alarmed Rodney even in his weakening state. The water was freezing, slowly pulling his warmth away and replacing it with a chilling cold and a disturbing lethargy. A few of the Major’s words seemed to register ‘swim… shore… panic.”
It was then that he heard the noise too. It was getting louder and he forced himself to do more than keep his head above water. His limbs felt heavy as he tried to swim towards Sheppard’s voice but the current was too strong and his progress was insignificant. One word drifted down from above kept repeating itself over and over, “Waterfall.”
Whatever apathy he had disappeared, panic and sheer terror replacing it as Rodney jerked his head towards the roaring sound of water. His mind raced as he tried to backpedal in the water, his limbs numb from the cold but adrenalin supplying enough power to slow down his rush towards the falls. He looked up at the bank above him, searching out Major Sheppard for help, for anything that might give him hope. When all he found was fear staring back him, Rodney’s heart pounded in his chest.
Rodney could see the edge of the falls now and see the spray of water that had resisted gravity and hung for a moment where once there had been a river. Time slowed and his brain sped up, searching its memory for something that would help him. Filed away in deep recesses, he dredged up an old tidbit of information from an obscure book of worst case scenarios. Obviously someone’s warped idea of a sense of humor, but now…not so much.
Take a deep breath before going over the edge.
Go over the falls feet first.
Jump out and away from the edge of the falls just before you go over and cover your head with your arms.
Start swimming immediately upon hitting the water, even before you surface.
Swim downstream away from the falls.
All of it seemed rather inane when the river had more say over what he was doing than Rodney did. He added his own addendum…bend over and kiss your ass goodbye.
Before he could speculate on it any further his body shot over the falls and the sheer shock of it made him suck in a lungful of air. He was in freefall and made the mistake of opening his eyes that had automatically clenched tight when the river disappeared from under him. If he was afraid before, now he was terrified at the distance to the water below.
Unfortunately it was difficult to judge distance when it was decreasing rapidly. There was no time to adjust himself according to the rules and the churning water rushed up to meet him with a resounding thud.
All the air was harshly expelled from his lungs, the cold reasserted itself and all he could think of was…’oh fuck, that hurt’, as he sank beneath the surface, his body momentarily stunned by the impact. Rodney was flung about in the strong undercurrent of the falls until the lack of oxygen forced him to take part in his own survival. His arms and legs were sluggish and heavy, resisting his efforts to get to the surface. Even below the surface in the dim light from above, the panic was clearly etched in his face.
Clawing and scratching his way upward, Rodney’s head broke the surface choking and gasping for much needed air. His limbs were numb, mostly from the cold but also from his exhaustive efforts. The water was calmer now away from the falls, almost peaceful in comparison. Kicking towards the shore, it seemed a different world from the one above. The banks were no longer steep barriers but had leveled out to sandy stretches lined with trees, making it almost idyllic. With a concentrated effort, Rodney made it to shore and threw up a good portion of the river before he passed out, uncaring about the life threatening hypothermia or the blood that pooled under his wounded leg.
****
John heard more than saw Rodney go over the falls. The terror in his scream was unmistakable even as it died away with the roaring rush of water. Running towards the sound, John skidded to a stop just in time to prevent going over the steep cliff at his feet. Cursing loudly, he peered over the edge trying to see McKay, but the mist from the falls made it impossible to see. With no other recourse, he began making his way down to the river below. He tried to rush his descent, anxious to get to Rodney but after several near fatal slips, he forced himself to calm down and watch where he was going.
It seemed to take forever to get down to level ground again. Bursting from the trees onto the beach, his eyes darted to the water first, fearful of seeing McKay floating in the water. When he saw nothing, his heart skipped a beat and he looked around frantically. Spotting Rodney lying motionless on the beach he ran to his side and dropped to his knees, panting anxiously.
“Rodney,” cried Sheppard, rolling the scientist over and feeling for a pulse. It was slow but more shocking was the coldness under his fingers. McKay looked ghostly, his lips blue from the cold. Without thinking, John grabbed for the zipper on Rodney’s jacket and unzipped it. His hands fumbled with the wet clothes, twisting and turning the scientist until all that remained were his boxers.
Reaching in his vest he grabbed the emergency blanket and a pressure bandage. McKay’s leg was still oozing blood and John hesitated a moment, unsure which was more life threatening at the moment, hypothermia or blood loss. With quick hands, he wrapped Rodney’s leg to stop the worst of the bleeding.
Removing his own jacket, he covered McKay’s chest with it and began massaging his freezing limbs. His hands shook as he tried to warm him up, a silent litany of curses and prayers passed through his mind. Rodney remained ice cold and John did the only thing he could think of. Removing his own clothes, he slid down beside Rodney and wrapped his body around him. Gasping as the coldness seeped into his own leaner frame, he continued to rub Rodney’s arms.
When McKay finally woke, his body was shivering and the press of weight against him made him struggle. Sheppard held him tighter. “Calm down. I’m just trying to get you warm.”
Rodney coughed several times then stuttered weakly, “C…c…cold. Sl…sleep.”
“No sleeping, McKay,” said John, trying hard to suppress the worry in his voice, his hands still working over Rodney’s cold skin. Still shaking hard, Rodney relaxed, too tired to do much else. Every time he dozed off, John would nudge him awake until he had no choice but to remain conscious to it all. As his body began to warm up, his leg lost the numbness the cold had brought and the sharp pain started. He rolled Sheppard off of him in a heap and sat up, reaching for his leg with a grimace of pain.
“Geez, McKay. Give a guy some warning,” said John, sitting up and rubbing the sand off.
Rodney stared at him in shock and then down at himself, still shivering, “Wh…Where are…m..my clothes?” He added embarrassingly, “Wh…where…are yours?”
Ignoring Rodney, John noted that some of the color had returned to the scientist’s face and he sighed inwardly. McKay still looked cold but at least now he could maybe get a fire going and tend to the injured leg. Standing up he grabbed his jacket and draped it around Mckay’s shoulders. “Still cold?”
Wrapping his arms around himself, Rodney continued to shiver. “Yes. Leg…hurts.”
“I’m going to get a fire started and then I’ll look at it,” said John, unwilling to mention that it was going to hurt like a mother, judging from what he’d seen earlier. Instead he picked up the emergency blanket and tucked it around McKay. “I’m just gonna look for some wood for a fire. I’ll be right back.” He quickly put his pants back on and secured his holster before grabbing McKay’s gun. Dropping on one knee he put it in Rodney’s hand. “Just in case.”
Rodney took it and let it rest in his lap, too tired to do much else. It was probably for the best. The way his hands were shaking he’d be lucky to hit what he was aiming at. Sheppard didn’t plan on wandering out of sight anyway, but one thing he’d learned in the Pegasus galaxy was it was always better to be safe than sorry. Patting Rodney’s hand, he headed for the trees for some wood. Very carefully he scanned the trees, only venturing in to pick up the occasional piece, turning periodically to keep an eye on McKay, who had given up on trying to sit up and had fallen over. Again he keyed his radio, calling for Ford or Teyla but so far there had been no response.
“Shit.” Hurrying, Sheppard loaded his arms with wood and rushed back to Rodney. Dumping his burden in a pile, he knelt again at the scientist’s side. The man was shivering uncontrollably, his blue eyes glazed over with pain and his face pale and pinched. There was no mistaking the pain he was in. Placing a hand on his shoulder, John leaned over him, “You want heat or drugs first?”
“Yes.”
John couldn’t help but smile at the scientist. Even in pain his humor didn’t leave him. It was one of the things he liked about the man. No matter how dire things became Rodney had a way of making him smile. He already had the makings for the fire and hurriedly scrounging through his vest, found some matches. A few minutes later he looked at the pile of wood in disgust. It was just too wet to be of any use at the moment.
McKay was huddled on the beach, stuttering, “C…cold.”
Sheppard’s voice lowered sympathetically, “I know.” Rearranging the blanket covering McKay, he winced at the bloody bandage. “I need to clean this up. It’s gonna hurt some.”
Looking up with an unbelieving glare, Rodney smirked, “Some?”
Shrugging innocently, John countered, “Okay, more than some. You want some morphine?”
“Happy drugs. Yes,” exclaimed McKay, wincing as he said it.
John was thankful for a brief reprieve from looking under the bandage and grabbed the morphine from the first aid kit he’d pulled out of his pack. Preparing the shot, he gripped the syringe between his teeth as he used an alcohol wipe on Rodney’s arm. McKay’s skin was still cold to the touch and worry creased Sheppard’s brow as he administered the shot and returned his attention to the leg wound.
He stalled for a few minutes, arranging supplies to give the drug some time to work. McKay’s eyes were drifting shut as he pulled away the bloodied bandage. Rodney’s eyes shot open and he flinched but didn’t pull away. Glancing up, John could see his fists clenched tightly. “I’ll try to be quick.”
Rodney ground out, “Fast… would be…good.”
His hands trembling a bit, John peeled the rest of the bandage away and gaped at the damage. He must of sat for too long because McKay broke his reverie, “How bad?”
Blinking, John focused on the wound. It was hard to make out the true extent of the damage with all the dried blood and the oozing fresh, but there were parallel gashes running from midway down his calf to almost his ankle. Teeth marks. Reaching for a wad of gauze and the water, he dabbed at the wound, cleaning away as much of the old blood as he could. Rubbing at one particular spot, he watched as the skin and muscle peeled back from the bone. The oozing turned to flowing and he quickly replaced the flap of muscle, swallowing back the rising bile as he applied pressure.
Rodney cried out and tried to pull away from the agonizing pain, pleading through clenched teeth, “Stop!”
John was sweating, one hand holding Rodney’s leg in place while the other kept pressure on the wound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
“Why did you fuck with it? It wasn’t hurting before,” Rodney spat vehemently, his body trying to curl around the pain, but held firmly under John’s iron grip.
“Hold still. I need to wrap this.”
Rodney nodded, sweat gathering on his brow as he said weakly, “Do it.”
“I’m sorry,” said Sheppard, his voice shaky as he finished binding the scientist’s leg.
Pulling in a couple of deep breaths, Rodney sighed understandingly, “I know.” He closed his eyes, relieved to be done with it and thankful when the pain began to subside now that his leg wasn’t being messed with.
Reassured by McKay’s easier breathing, John very gently lifted him up and let him rest against his chest, sharing what body heat he could. Reaching for his jacket, he draped it over Rodney’s shoulders. “Better?”
Nodding weakly, Rodney tried to relax, but the Major’s closeness was doing more than warming him. He shifted and struggled to sit up, but Sheppard only wrapped his arms around him tighter, holding him firmly to his chest. “Stop fighting it, Rodney.”
Planting a hand in John’s chest, Rodney’s fingers wanted to stop and stroke the dusting of hair, but were forced to push away. Flustered, he pulled back, “I can’t. You don’t know...”
John’s voice softened and he whispered in McKay’s ear. “I do know. Now let me keep you warm, Rodney.”
Even as Rodney sank back into the warmth, he muttered, “This…you shouldn’t.”
“Right here, right now it doesn’t matter. Shut up, Rodney and relax. We could be here awhile,” sighed Sheppard. His sharp words were tempered with a soft resignation and his arms pulled McKay closer.
With a deep breath, Rodney relaxed in John’s embrace, welcoming the contact that he’d craved for so long. The drug induced euphoria took away his normal inhibitions and he let himself savor the closeness. His voice was still shaky as he asked, “Any plans on how to get out of here?”
“Can you walk?”
“I’m in my underwear, Major,” Rodney pointed out, feeling the heat rising in his face.
John chuckled, “I doubt very much you could walk even if you weren’t in your underwear. It’s kind of moot, Rodney. We’re just going to have to wait until Ford or Teyla get back to us or Atlantis checks in.”
“You think they got away from the dogs?” It was a compromise of sorts as he asked, afraid to think about why his teammates weren’t answering their radios.
“They had a head start on us and you know how Ford likes to shoot. Besides what dog stands a chance against Teyla.”
John had been so worried about Rodney that he’d forgotten about the threat of the dogs. Not having seen any sign of them since crossing the river, he hoped they’d seen the last of them. The thought of them being so out in the open with Rodney unable to walk sent shivers down his spine and John shifted nervously.
Rodney noticed. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong isn’t it. I can tell.” His panic was rising.
“You’re the one that brought up the dogs,” huffed John, his eyes scanning the beach area and the trees behind them. Very carefully, he laid McKay down on the sand and covered him with the blanket. “I’m going to try the fire again. If it gets dark, we’ll need it.”
“If you’re trying to comfort me with the ‘we’ll need to stay warm thing’, I’m not falling for it, Major,” said Rodney, his eyes drifting shut.
“Nothing gets by you, McKay,” teased John, glancing about warily as he rummaged through his pack for a fire starter. He’d been too rushed to mess with it earlier but the threat of dogs after the sun set was enough of an incentive to try again.
“Genius here.” Rodney snorted and huddling under the thin blanket, let the morphine relax him into sleep while John started a fire. The intense heat of the fire starter was enough to overcome the wetness of the wood and he soon had a blazing fire going. Making sure Rodney was far enough away not to get burned by sparks, he scrounged for more wood. He kept McKay in sight the whole time, his senses on alert to any sign of danger.
It was the middle of the night before Rodney woke again. His body had gone from bone-chilling cold to uncomfortably warm and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that infection had set in. The cold and morphine that had numbed the pain earlier would have been a welcome relief to the sharp agony he was feeling now. That and the heat of the fire were enough to make him restless. With a deep moan, he tried to roll away from the fire only to find a solid weight at his back. It was then that he realized that a warm hand draped his stomach and another rested under his head.
The arms moved. “Rodney?”
Grimacing, he sat up and found himself being steadied by John. He waved towards the fire, “Too hot.”
“You’re running a fever,” said John, reaching for his canteen. “How about some water?”
Rodney nodded and took the offered drink, doing his best not to alert John to the pain in his leg, but the slightest movement made it impossible not to react. Scooting back from the fire, he grabbed for his leg just above the knee and clamped down hard, hoping foolishly that it might stop the pain from spreading. Rocking back and forth, his breathing forced, he hissed, “Damn.”
The comfort of John’s hands left him with an anxious reply, “Hold on. I’ll give you another shot.”
Trembling in pain, Rodney nodded vehemently, “Have I mentioned I have a low tolerance for pain? If not, now would be a good time to bring that up.” Sweat gathered on his brow and his whole body felt sticky with it as he waited for some relief. His eyes shut tight, he only forced them open at the tugging on his arm. He found Sheppard staring at him with concern and a touch of something else.
His voice was soft as he spoke, “You gotta let go or no happy juice.”
Rodney responded with a half snort, half laugh and let go of his leg, offering his arm to John. “I hate needles too.”
John flashed him a crooked smile, “I think you’ll like this one.” Cleaning Rodney’s bicep, Sheppard inserted the needle and removing it watched McKay’s features soften as the medicine took hold.
The scientist smiled lazily, “Something to be said for that.”
“Well, enjoy it, that’s the last of it,” joked Sheppard, trying to hide the despair he was feeling. They had about six hours before this dosage wore off and all they’d be left with was a few Tylenol. He somehow doubted they would do much for Rodney’s pain.
Starting to shiver as his sweat covered body began to cool, Rodney held his hands toward the fire to warm himself. “You aren’t holding my clothes ransom are you? I’d be disappointed if you’re picking up Carson’s bad habits.”
John smiled, recalling a time or two that Dr. Beckett hid his clothes to keep him in the infirmary. That only worked until Carson realized he wasn’t opposed to roaming the halls in scrubs. Moving to Rodney’s clothes he’d laid out by the fire earlier, he felt them to see if they were dry. He held up the shirt. “It’s still a little damp. You want it?”
Rodney shuddered at the thought of putting on even damp clothes. He was actually warm at the moment, almost too warm, but it felt better than the cold of before. Pulling the blanket around himself he shook his head, “Not particularly. I’m kind of partial to warm right now.”
“Hungry? I’ve got a couple MRE’s in my pack.”
“Not really. Morphine always makes me a little sick to my stomach.”
“You don’t look sick. You look…stoned.”
“Yes, well unfortunately it doesn’t come with munchies.”
Moving around the fire, John helped Rodney lie down, then spooned behind him. Neither man said anything as they stared at the fire. They were skirting the edge of wrong as they lay together, but somehow by not mentioning it they could justify the rightness of it. Circumstances allowed for it, but it was fleeting and circumstances would pull them apart just as it always did. For now they could just pretend that it was okay to be this close, this together without condemnation or recrimination.
Sheppard lay behind McKay, leaning up on one elbow as he watched the flames dancing over the logs. “All we need now are hot dogs and marshmallows.”
“If you break into a round a ‘Row your boat’ I’m going to puke.”
Rodney leaned back and sighed, letting John hold him. After several moments he asked apprehensively, “You want to talk about this?”
Shaking his head, John answered with a shrug, “Not really.”
“Me either.”
The silence continued and John broke, smiling his crooked smile, “There’s a ‘but’ isn’t there. There’s always a ‘but’ with you.”
“I’m just saying maybe we should talk about it.”
“What good is talking going to do? As nice as this is…” He stopped for a moment and leaned over close to Rodney’s ear, saying softly, “and it is nice.” Pulling back a bit, his grip tightened around McKay’s middle. “It isn’t something we can do.”
He tried to put some distance between them, but Rodney simply grabbed the arm draped over his stomach and held it. “I know that. And damn the American military by the way.”
“Well, it’s the military that sent me out here and they are the ones that pay me. I don’t have much choice.”
“I still don’t have to like it.”
“No you don’t. And if it’s any consolation, I don’t like it either, but I can’t risk being sent back. That would be a lot worse than the alternative.”
Rodney gripped John’s arm tighter, “Good point. So, any chance we’ll get out of here before my happy place disappears only to be replaced by agonizing pain?”
Shuddering at the thought, John replied reluctantly, “No. Atlantis should be checking in morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Which is four hours away.”
“Lovely.” Rodney hesitated, asking warily, “So how bad is it? My leg?”
“Um…”
Sitting up, Rodney stared down at him, “Um? What kind of answer is that? If you were trying for reassurance let me assure you that it fell flat with um.” He glanced down at the bloody bandage and suddenly felt light headed. Sinking back to the ground, he found John’s embrace more comforting than anything. “Next time try quantifying your um with a ‘not bad’. It would certainly have more impact on my self assurance, than an ominous ‘um’.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
Silence descended. Several minutes passed. “So how bad is it?”
John laughed, “Shut up, Rodney. Carson will fix you up as good as new.”
Rolling a bit, Rodney edged into John’s side, laying his head on his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
Resting a hand on Rodney’s forearm where it lay on his stomach, John answered quietly, “Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to sleep.” Lifting his head, John placed a very light kiss on Rodney’s head.
“Fine,” said McKay, but it lacked his normal acerbic tone and they both relaxed, letting sleep take them.
John woke the next morning feeling warm and uncomfortable, a heavy weight keeping him pinned to the ground. Recollection followed and he realized the heat was coming from Rodney. Slipping out from under the scientist, who didn’t stir, John noticed how flushed he’d become overnight. He reached out and nudged him awake, “Rodney? Wake up.”
Eyelids fluttering, Rodney’s blue eyes were fever glazed when he finally opened them. He muttered, “Why?” Wetting a clean sock from his pack, John wiped Rodney’s face and was rewarded with a sigh, “More.”
“Demanding aren’t you?”
“I’m sick, I’m entitled,” mumbled Rodney. The painkiller was wearing off judging by his tight features.
“You want some Tylenol? It’s not much but it’s all there is,” asked John, his touch gentle and his voice soothing as he continued to cool Rodney’s heated body with the damp cloth.
“Hot.”
“I know, you’ve got a fever. Let’s sit you up and get you a drink.”
Only with John’s help did Rodney manage to sit up. He leaned heavily into him as he took pills and washed them down with several cool sips of water. It eased his dry, parched throat. Rodney looked around in a daze, barely aware it was morning. “Can I have my pants now?”
“You sure?” asked John, knowing it would be a painful process to get them back on.
“Yes, I’m sure,” retorted Rodney, groggily. “I’d rather everyone didn’t see me fleshed out like this.”
John nodded. “Can you sit by yourself or you want to lie back down?”
“Is unconsciousness an option, because that sounds the most promising right now?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” John said, his voice filled with worry.
Rodney nodded weakly and braced himself on one hand so John could retrieve his clothes. It took only a second and he was back. Reaching for his knife, John cut the bottom of the torn pant leg off. “You ready?”
“No.” He looked at John and spoke, his tone apologetic, “Maybe we should do the shirt first, in case…” Pausing, he added hurriedly, “In case I pass out.”
John agreed with a grimace, “I hate when your right.” Making sure all the sand was brushed off his back, John helped Rodney with his shirt. Actually Rodney wasn’t much help but at least he cooperated. The pants were a different matter altogether. As much as he wanted to help, the pain took over and Rodney was reduced to lying on his back, breathing harshly and thinking maybe modesty was overrated. When it was finally done, John slipped up to Rodney’s head and lifted it into his lap. He couldn’t help but tease, “Great idea.”
Rodney swiped the sweat off his face and ground out between clenched teeth, “Fuck you.”
About to respond, John was cut off by the sound in his earpiece.
“Major Sheppard, report please.”
“Elizabeth, it’s nice to hear from you. We could use a little help here. Did Ford and Teyla make it back?”
“Yes, about five minutes ago. We were hoping you would be on the way as well.”
“We ran into a little misunderstanding with the native dogs. McKay can’t walk. We need a jumper and a med team.”
“I’ll send one through immediately. Is there a place for them to land, Major?”
John looked around them. It would be close, but it was doable. He keyed his radio, “Have Markham fly it. It’s gonna be tight.”
“Alright, they’ll be there as quickly as they can. How is Rodney doing?”
“The dogs took a nice chunk out of his leg and the morphine wore off about an hour ago,” said John, hoping that would be enough to convince Elizabeth they needed to hurry. He really didn’t want to go into the way Rodney was biting on his lip to keep from moaning.
“Understood, Major.”
“Sheppard, out.”
Rodney looked up at John, asking warily, “Chunk?”
“I was exaggerating,” hedged Sheppard, not sounding very convincing. He shrugged and said with a feigned smile, “The chunk is still there.”
“You really need to work on your presentation skills,” muttered Rodney. His body trembled with the pain and John silently dropped a hand to the scientist’s hair, stroking it comfortingly.
Hesitating a second, Rodney reached up and clasped John’s neck then pulled him down for a kiss. It lacked the passion it might have had under different circumstances, but it spoke volumes for both men, as they pulled away, John’s hazel eyes locked on to Rodney’s and he asked tenderly, “What was that for?”
Rodney smiled warmly, “Because right here, right now, I could.”
John sadly closed his eyes, licking his lips unconsciously as he spoke, his voice low with regret, “You know when we get back we can’t…”
Interrupting him, Rodney sighed, “I know.” His eyes met John’s and saw his own disappointment mirrored there, “But I wanted to do that just once.”
Leaning over him, John initiated a second kiss, as soft as the first but lingering. “Maybe some day.”
His eyes drifted closed and Rodney whispered, “I can wait.”
John’s fingers lightly caressed Rodney’s face, memorizing the feel of his hair, his skin, the light stubble of beard. His hand stilled as the jumper appeared and drifted to a less conspicuous spot, but not before he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion, “I can wait too.”
********
Rodney was cleaned up and lying in the infirmary bed, his heavily wrapped leg elevated when John arrived several hours later. He was fiddling with his blankets already looking bored despite the slightly drugged look.
“How you feeling?”
Glancing at John, Rodney smiled, “Better. I think Carson has been holding out on the good stuff because you could drive a truck over me right now and I wouldn’t feel it.”
John chuckled, “Pleasant roadkill visual. Thanks.” He stood beside the bed and with a quick glance over his shoulder he let his hand slip into Rodney’s. “What did Carson have to say?”
Rodney squeezed the hand holding his, “Oh you know, crutches, PT, the usual.”
“Hey, I understand crutches are a real chick magnet,” teased John.
“Hmph. Really?”
“So they say,” shrugged Sheppard, and he pulled his hand away from Rodney’s only to have it held for a moment longer.
He looked at McKay and received a single request as his hand was released, “Stay?”
Their eyes met for a brief second of understanding before John turned and grabbed a nearby chair and plopped down, “Sure.”
“Thanks,” said Rodney quietly. He shifted on the bed and graced Sheppard with a devious smile, “So…can I talk you into sneaking my laptop in here?”
John laughed, shaking his head, “Oh right, so that way I’m the one that gets in trouble. You think I want to piss off Carson? The man has ways to torture that would put the professionals to shame, McKay.”
“Oh please, Major. Don’t tell me you are afraid of the man.” Their light hearted banter continued, both finding it easy to slip back into what was second nature. And yet there was something new between them now, buried behind their eyes. A new understanding that would remain untouched… until someday.
Author: Chaps1870
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: McShep
Summary: Worst Case Scenario Challenge.
Disclaimer: The usual.
“They’re right behind you. Move!” shouted Sheppard, his eyes darting anxiously between Rodney and the devil dogs on the other side of the ravine.
They’d been minding there own business, returning from a trip to some rather dull ruins several miles from the gate when the dogs suddenly appeared. In the melee that followed, Major Sheppard and Dr. McKay had been separated from Teyla and Lieutenant Ford. Now they were simply trying to beat the dogs to the gate.
McKay was presently trying to maintain his balance while crossing a log that would hopefully put the river below between them and the dogs. The log was not very wide and rocked with each step. Rodney was probably moving faster than he should given the condition and width of the log, but adrenalin and vicious dogs provided enough incentive to outweigh the fear of dropping the twenty feet into the water. He was almost half way across when the dogs figured out their meal was about to get away and a couple of them ventured out onto the log intent on stopping their prey.
John lifted his weapon, shooting the lead dog off the log. Startled by the sound, Rodney looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening in terror. “Ohgodohgodohgod.”
“Keep moving. I’ll hold them off,” Sheppard shouted, totally in agreement with McKay’s mutterings. He’d thought by going first, he’d be the one to fall into the river if the log didn’t hold. Now he wished he’d let Rodney cross first. Taking aim, he shot the second dog and it dropped hard on the log, causing it to shift. Rodney yelped but kept his balance and tried to move faster. The third and fourth dog jumped over their fallen companion and rushed their prey.
Shooting the third turned out to be a mistake. Only wounded, the fallen dog clawed at the log as it started to slip off, rolling the log with each desperate attempt to stay atop it. Any other time it might have been funny to see McKay’s flailing arms as he tried to keep step like some lumberjack in a log rolling contest but at the moment it was painful to watch, knowing it was a losing battle.
As the dog lost its battle to stay aboard, the log suddenly stopped rolling. Unfortunately, McKay’s feet were still moving and as they grabbed only air, his face reflected the horror as he realized he’d just lost. His body succumbed to the force of gravity and slammed hard onto the log, knocking the wind out of him. John was actually amazed that he’d managed to land more on the log than off and only let himself breathe when he saw that McKay had stayed on the log. His second of awe was enough time for the fourth dog to attack.
Rodney was panic stricken, trying to take air into his oxygen starved lungs and grab for some purchase as the snarling dog latched onto his leg, ready to pull him back to his side of the river. Crying out as teeth sunk into his calf muscle, Rodney used his free leg to push away his attacker. Even a hard kick to the animal’s face didn’t deter it.
Pain glazed eyes stared up at John as Rodney pleaded desperately through gritted teeth, “Shoot it!”
Holding his P90 to his shoulder, Sheppard shouted above the snarling dogs all wanting a piece of McKay. “Stay down!” Rodney dropped his head as the dog continued to tear at his leg. His screams spurred Sheppard into action, and bullets ripped through flesh and bone, taking several dogs down on the first swipe, including the one attached to the scientist’s leg. Relieved of the dog, Rodney inched forward and froze, the ominous sound of cracking wood making his blood run cold. Looking at Major Sheppard, their eyes met for a split second before a sharp crack rent the air and McKay dropped the twenty feet into the raging river below.
“RODNEY!” screamed John, stopping short of the edge to see McKay hit the water and go under. There was no way to follow, the bank too steep and too far from the water to make for a safe landing. With no other option, Sheppard ran downriver, his eyes darting towards the churning water beneath him hoping to catch of glimpse of McKay.
He surfaced thirty yards away. Even from a distance, John could see Rodney gasping for air just as he went under again. Sheppard never stopping his headlong rush through the brush, ignoring everything but catching up to McKay. Clearing the trees, his way was suddenly unobstructed and with a burst of speed he could see the scientist below him. Seeing Rodney struggling to stay afloat, he yelled, “GET THE VEST OFF!”
The scientist must have heard him because Rodney floated to his back as best he could in the raging river and fumbled with the buckles on the vest. He went under again, and John rushed forward, running to keep up as his eyes darted up and down the river for a sign of him. Surfacing downstream, the vest popped up behind him and John sighed heavily, thankful for one less thing to drag McKay down. It seemed to be easier to stay afloat without the vest and Sheppard kept a steady pace with Rodney. There was still no way to get down to the river and looking ahead didn’t show much promise either.
Sheppard followed McKay for several more minutes his eyes focused on Rodney as he bobbed in the water, trying to avoid the bigger boulders that littered the river. Something nagged at the back of his brain until the growing noise became loud enough to pull it to the forefront of his consciousness and his heart skipped a beat.
His head jerked up and followed the flow of the river until it seemed to disappear. He reacted instantly, catching up with Rodney and crouching low as he ran, hoping the few extra inches would make a difference. “Swim to shore, McKay. You gotta get out of the river.”
Hearing Sheppard’s panicked voice, alarmed Rodney even in his weakening state. The water was freezing, slowly pulling his warmth away and replacing it with a chilling cold and a disturbing lethargy. A few of the Major’s words seemed to register ‘swim… shore… panic.”
It was then that he heard the noise too. It was getting louder and he forced himself to do more than keep his head above water. His limbs felt heavy as he tried to swim towards Sheppard’s voice but the current was too strong and his progress was insignificant. One word drifted down from above kept repeating itself over and over, “Waterfall.”
Whatever apathy he had disappeared, panic and sheer terror replacing it as Rodney jerked his head towards the roaring sound of water. His mind raced as he tried to backpedal in the water, his limbs numb from the cold but adrenalin supplying enough power to slow down his rush towards the falls. He looked up at the bank above him, searching out Major Sheppard for help, for anything that might give him hope. When all he found was fear staring back him, Rodney’s heart pounded in his chest.
Rodney could see the edge of the falls now and see the spray of water that had resisted gravity and hung for a moment where once there had been a river. Time slowed and his brain sped up, searching its memory for something that would help him. Filed away in deep recesses, he dredged up an old tidbit of information from an obscure book of worst case scenarios. Obviously someone’s warped idea of a sense of humor, but now…not so much.
Take a deep breath before going over the edge.
Go over the falls feet first.
Jump out and away from the edge of the falls just before you go over and cover your head with your arms.
Start swimming immediately upon hitting the water, even before you surface.
Swim downstream away from the falls.
All of it seemed rather inane when the river had more say over what he was doing than Rodney did. He added his own addendum…bend over and kiss your ass goodbye.
Before he could speculate on it any further his body shot over the falls and the sheer shock of it made him suck in a lungful of air. He was in freefall and made the mistake of opening his eyes that had automatically clenched tight when the river disappeared from under him. If he was afraid before, now he was terrified at the distance to the water below.
Unfortunately it was difficult to judge distance when it was decreasing rapidly. There was no time to adjust himself according to the rules and the churning water rushed up to meet him with a resounding thud.
All the air was harshly expelled from his lungs, the cold reasserted itself and all he could think of was…’oh fuck, that hurt’, as he sank beneath the surface, his body momentarily stunned by the impact. Rodney was flung about in the strong undercurrent of the falls until the lack of oxygen forced him to take part in his own survival. His arms and legs were sluggish and heavy, resisting his efforts to get to the surface. Even below the surface in the dim light from above, the panic was clearly etched in his face.
Clawing and scratching his way upward, Rodney’s head broke the surface choking and gasping for much needed air. His limbs were numb, mostly from the cold but also from his exhaustive efforts. The water was calmer now away from the falls, almost peaceful in comparison. Kicking towards the shore, it seemed a different world from the one above. The banks were no longer steep barriers but had leveled out to sandy stretches lined with trees, making it almost idyllic. With a concentrated effort, Rodney made it to shore and threw up a good portion of the river before he passed out, uncaring about the life threatening hypothermia or the blood that pooled under his wounded leg.
****
John heard more than saw Rodney go over the falls. The terror in his scream was unmistakable even as it died away with the roaring rush of water. Running towards the sound, John skidded to a stop just in time to prevent going over the steep cliff at his feet. Cursing loudly, he peered over the edge trying to see McKay, but the mist from the falls made it impossible to see. With no other recourse, he began making his way down to the river below. He tried to rush his descent, anxious to get to Rodney but after several near fatal slips, he forced himself to calm down and watch where he was going.
It seemed to take forever to get down to level ground again. Bursting from the trees onto the beach, his eyes darted to the water first, fearful of seeing McKay floating in the water. When he saw nothing, his heart skipped a beat and he looked around frantically. Spotting Rodney lying motionless on the beach he ran to his side and dropped to his knees, panting anxiously.
“Rodney,” cried Sheppard, rolling the scientist over and feeling for a pulse. It was slow but more shocking was the coldness under his fingers. McKay looked ghostly, his lips blue from the cold. Without thinking, John grabbed for the zipper on Rodney’s jacket and unzipped it. His hands fumbled with the wet clothes, twisting and turning the scientist until all that remained were his boxers.
Reaching in his vest he grabbed the emergency blanket and a pressure bandage. McKay’s leg was still oozing blood and John hesitated a moment, unsure which was more life threatening at the moment, hypothermia or blood loss. With quick hands, he wrapped Rodney’s leg to stop the worst of the bleeding.
Removing his own jacket, he covered McKay’s chest with it and began massaging his freezing limbs. His hands shook as he tried to warm him up, a silent litany of curses and prayers passed through his mind. Rodney remained ice cold and John did the only thing he could think of. Removing his own clothes, he slid down beside Rodney and wrapped his body around him. Gasping as the coldness seeped into his own leaner frame, he continued to rub Rodney’s arms.
When McKay finally woke, his body was shivering and the press of weight against him made him struggle. Sheppard held him tighter. “Calm down. I’m just trying to get you warm.”
Rodney coughed several times then stuttered weakly, “C…c…cold. Sl…sleep.”
“No sleeping, McKay,” said John, trying hard to suppress the worry in his voice, his hands still working over Rodney’s cold skin. Still shaking hard, Rodney relaxed, too tired to do much else. Every time he dozed off, John would nudge him awake until he had no choice but to remain conscious to it all. As his body began to warm up, his leg lost the numbness the cold had brought and the sharp pain started. He rolled Sheppard off of him in a heap and sat up, reaching for his leg with a grimace of pain.
“Geez, McKay. Give a guy some warning,” said John, sitting up and rubbing the sand off.
Rodney stared at him in shock and then down at himself, still shivering, “Wh…Where are…m..my clothes?” He added embarrassingly, “Wh…where…are yours?”
Ignoring Rodney, John noted that some of the color had returned to the scientist’s face and he sighed inwardly. McKay still looked cold but at least now he could maybe get a fire going and tend to the injured leg. Standing up he grabbed his jacket and draped it around Mckay’s shoulders. “Still cold?”
Wrapping his arms around himself, Rodney continued to shiver. “Yes. Leg…hurts.”
“I’m going to get a fire started and then I’ll look at it,” said John, unwilling to mention that it was going to hurt like a mother, judging from what he’d seen earlier. Instead he picked up the emergency blanket and tucked it around McKay. “I’m just gonna look for some wood for a fire. I’ll be right back.” He quickly put his pants back on and secured his holster before grabbing McKay’s gun. Dropping on one knee he put it in Rodney’s hand. “Just in case.”
Rodney took it and let it rest in his lap, too tired to do much else. It was probably for the best. The way his hands were shaking he’d be lucky to hit what he was aiming at. Sheppard didn’t plan on wandering out of sight anyway, but one thing he’d learned in the Pegasus galaxy was it was always better to be safe than sorry. Patting Rodney’s hand, he headed for the trees for some wood. Very carefully he scanned the trees, only venturing in to pick up the occasional piece, turning periodically to keep an eye on McKay, who had given up on trying to sit up and had fallen over. Again he keyed his radio, calling for Ford or Teyla but so far there had been no response.
“Shit.” Hurrying, Sheppard loaded his arms with wood and rushed back to Rodney. Dumping his burden in a pile, he knelt again at the scientist’s side. The man was shivering uncontrollably, his blue eyes glazed over with pain and his face pale and pinched. There was no mistaking the pain he was in. Placing a hand on his shoulder, John leaned over him, “You want heat or drugs first?”
“Yes.”
John couldn’t help but smile at the scientist. Even in pain his humor didn’t leave him. It was one of the things he liked about the man. No matter how dire things became Rodney had a way of making him smile. He already had the makings for the fire and hurriedly scrounging through his vest, found some matches. A few minutes later he looked at the pile of wood in disgust. It was just too wet to be of any use at the moment.
McKay was huddled on the beach, stuttering, “C…cold.”
Sheppard’s voice lowered sympathetically, “I know.” Rearranging the blanket covering McKay, he winced at the bloody bandage. “I need to clean this up. It’s gonna hurt some.”
Looking up with an unbelieving glare, Rodney smirked, “Some?”
Shrugging innocently, John countered, “Okay, more than some. You want some morphine?”
“Happy drugs. Yes,” exclaimed McKay, wincing as he said it.
John was thankful for a brief reprieve from looking under the bandage and grabbed the morphine from the first aid kit he’d pulled out of his pack. Preparing the shot, he gripped the syringe between his teeth as he used an alcohol wipe on Rodney’s arm. McKay’s skin was still cold to the touch and worry creased Sheppard’s brow as he administered the shot and returned his attention to the leg wound.
He stalled for a few minutes, arranging supplies to give the drug some time to work. McKay’s eyes were drifting shut as he pulled away the bloodied bandage. Rodney’s eyes shot open and he flinched but didn’t pull away. Glancing up, John could see his fists clenched tightly. “I’ll try to be quick.”
Rodney ground out, “Fast… would be…good.”
His hands trembling a bit, John peeled the rest of the bandage away and gaped at the damage. He must of sat for too long because McKay broke his reverie, “How bad?”
Blinking, John focused on the wound. It was hard to make out the true extent of the damage with all the dried blood and the oozing fresh, but there were parallel gashes running from midway down his calf to almost his ankle. Teeth marks. Reaching for a wad of gauze and the water, he dabbed at the wound, cleaning away as much of the old blood as he could. Rubbing at one particular spot, he watched as the skin and muscle peeled back from the bone. The oozing turned to flowing and he quickly replaced the flap of muscle, swallowing back the rising bile as he applied pressure.
Rodney cried out and tried to pull away from the agonizing pain, pleading through clenched teeth, “Stop!”
John was sweating, one hand holding Rodney’s leg in place while the other kept pressure on the wound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
“Why did you fuck with it? It wasn’t hurting before,” Rodney spat vehemently, his body trying to curl around the pain, but held firmly under John’s iron grip.
“Hold still. I need to wrap this.”
Rodney nodded, sweat gathering on his brow as he said weakly, “Do it.”
“I’m sorry,” said Sheppard, his voice shaky as he finished binding the scientist’s leg.
Pulling in a couple of deep breaths, Rodney sighed understandingly, “I know.” He closed his eyes, relieved to be done with it and thankful when the pain began to subside now that his leg wasn’t being messed with.
Reassured by McKay’s easier breathing, John very gently lifted him up and let him rest against his chest, sharing what body heat he could. Reaching for his jacket, he draped it over Rodney’s shoulders. “Better?”
Nodding weakly, Rodney tried to relax, but the Major’s closeness was doing more than warming him. He shifted and struggled to sit up, but Sheppard only wrapped his arms around him tighter, holding him firmly to his chest. “Stop fighting it, Rodney.”
Planting a hand in John’s chest, Rodney’s fingers wanted to stop and stroke the dusting of hair, but were forced to push away. Flustered, he pulled back, “I can’t. You don’t know...”
John’s voice softened and he whispered in McKay’s ear. “I do know. Now let me keep you warm, Rodney.”
Even as Rodney sank back into the warmth, he muttered, “This…you shouldn’t.”
“Right here, right now it doesn’t matter. Shut up, Rodney and relax. We could be here awhile,” sighed Sheppard. His sharp words were tempered with a soft resignation and his arms pulled McKay closer.
With a deep breath, Rodney relaxed in John’s embrace, welcoming the contact that he’d craved for so long. The drug induced euphoria took away his normal inhibitions and he let himself savor the closeness. His voice was still shaky as he asked, “Any plans on how to get out of here?”
“Can you walk?”
“I’m in my underwear, Major,” Rodney pointed out, feeling the heat rising in his face.
John chuckled, “I doubt very much you could walk even if you weren’t in your underwear. It’s kind of moot, Rodney. We’re just going to have to wait until Ford or Teyla get back to us or Atlantis checks in.”
“You think they got away from the dogs?” It was a compromise of sorts as he asked, afraid to think about why his teammates weren’t answering their radios.
“They had a head start on us and you know how Ford likes to shoot. Besides what dog stands a chance against Teyla.”
John had been so worried about Rodney that he’d forgotten about the threat of the dogs. Not having seen any sign of them since crossing the river, he hoped they’d seen the last of them. The thought of them being so out in the open with Rodney unable to walk sent shivers down his spine and John shifted nervously.
Rodney noticed. “What’s wrong? Something’s wrong isn’t it. I can tell.” His panic was rising.
“You’re the one that brought up the dogs,” huffed John, his eyes scanning the beach area and the trees behind them. Very carefully, he laid McKay down on the sand and covered him with the blanket. “I’m going to try the fire again. If it gets dark, we’ll need it.”
“If you’re trying to comfort me with the ‘we’ll need to stay warm thing’, I’m not falling for it, Major,” said Rodney, his eyes drifting shut.
“Nothing gets by you, McKay,” teased John, glancing about warily as he rummaged through his pack for a fire starter. He’d been too rushed to mess with it earlier but the threat of dogs after the sun set was enough of an incentive to try again.
“Genius here.” Rodney snorted and huddling under the thin blanket, let the morphine relax him into sleep while John started a fire. The intense heat of the fire starter was enough to overcome the wetness of the wood and he soon had a blazing fire going. Making sure Rodney was far enough away not to get burned by sparks, he scrounged for more wood. He kept McKay in sight the whole time, his senses on alert to any sign of danger.
It was the middle of the night before Rodney woke again. His body had gone from bone-chilling cold to uncomfortably warm and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that infection had set in. The cold and morphine that had numbed the pain earlier would have been a welcome relief to the sharp agony he was feeling now. That and the heat of the fire were enough to make him restless. With a deep moan, he tried to roll away from the fire only to find a solid weight at his back. It was then that he realized that a warm hand draped his stomach and another rested under his head.
The arms moved. “Rodney?”
Grimacing, he sat up and found himself being steadied by John. He waved towards the fire, “Too hot.”
“You’re running a fever,” said John, reaching for his canteen. “How about some water?”
Rodney nodded and took the offered drink, doing his best not to alert John to the pain in his leg, but the slightest movement made it impossible not to react. Scooting back from the fire, he grabbed for his leg just above the knee and clamped down hard, hoping foolishly that it might stop the pain from spreading. Rocking back and forth, his breathing forced, he hissed, “Damn.”
The comfort of John’s hands left him with an anxious reply, “Hold on. I’ll give you another shot.”
Trembling in pain, Rodney nodded vehemently, “Have I mentioned I have a low tolerance for pain? If not, now would be a good time to bring that up.” Sweat gathered on his brow and his whole body felt sticky with it as he waited for some relief. His eyes shut tight, he only forced them open at the tugging on his arm. He found Sheppard staring at him with concern and a touch of something else.
His voice was soft as he spoke, “You gotta let go or no happy juice.”
Rodney responded with a half snort, half laugh and let go of his leg, offering his arm to John. “I hate needles too.”
John flashed him a crooked smile, “I think you’ll like this one.” Cleaning Rodney’s bicep, Sheppard inserted the needle and removing it watched McKay’s features soften as the medicine took hold.
The scientist smiled lazily, “Something to be said for that.”
“Well, enjoy it, that’s the last of it,” joked Sheppard, trying to hide the despair he was feeling. They had about six hours before this dosage wore off and all they’d be left with was a few Tylenol. He somehow doubted they would do much for Rodney’s pain.
Starting to shiver as his sweat covered body began to cool, Rodney held his hands toward the fire to warm himself. “You aren’t holding my clothes ransom are you? I’d be disappointed if you’re picking up Carson’s bad habits.”
John smiled, recalling a time or two that Dr. Beckett hid his clothes to keep him in the infirmary. That only worked until Carson realized he wasn’t opposed to roaming the halls in scrubs. Moving to Rodney’s clothes he’d laid out by the fire earlier, he felt them to see if they were dry. He held up the shirt. “It’s still a little damp. You want it?”
Rodney shuddered at the thought of putting on even damp clothes. He was actually warm at the moment, almost too warm, but it felt better than the cold of before. Pulling the blanket around himself he shook his head, “Not particularly. I’m kind of partial to warm right now.”
“Hungry? I’ve got a couple MRE’s in my pack.”
“Not really. Morphine always makes me a little sick to my stomach.”
“You don’t look sick. You look…stoned.”
“Yes, well unfortunately it doesn’t come with munchies.”
Moving around the fire, John helped Rodney lie down, then spooned behind him. Neither man said anything as they stared at the fire. They were skirting the edge of wrong as they lay together, but somehow by not mentioning it they could justify the rightness of it. Circumstances allowed for it, but it was fleeting and circumstances would pull them apart just as it always did. For now they could just pretend that it was okay to be this close, this together without condemnation or recrimination.
Sheppard lay behind McKay, leaning up on one elbow as he watched the flames dancing over the logs. “All we need now are hot dogs and marshmallows.”
“If you break into a round a ‘Row your boat’ I’m going to puke.”
Rodney leaned back and sighed, letting John hold him. After several moments he asked apprehensively, “You want to talk about this?”
Shaking his head, John answered with a shrug, “Not really.”
“Me either.”
The silence continued and John broke, smiling his crooked smile, “There’s a ‘but’ isn’t there. There’s always a ‘but’ with you.”
“I’m just saying maybe we should talk about it.”
“What good is talking going to do? As nice as this is…” He stopped for a moment and leaned over close to Rodney’s ear, saying softly, “and it is nice.” Pulling back a bit, his grip tightened around McKay’s middle. “It isn’t something we can do.”
He tried to put some distance between them, but Rodney simply grabbed the arm draped over his stomach and held it. “I know that. And damn the American military by the way.”
“Well, it’s the military that sent me out here and they are the ones that pay me. I don’t have much choice.”
“I still don’t have to like it.”
“No you don’t. And if it’s any consolation, I don’t like it either, but I can’t risk being sent back. That would be a lot worse than the alternative.”
Rodney gripped John’s arm tighter, “Good point. So, any chance we’ll get out of here before my happy place disappears only to be replaced by agonizing pain?”
Shuddering at the thought, John replied reluctantly, “No. Atlantis should be checking in morning.” He glanced at his watch. “Which is four hours away.”
“Lovely.” Rodney hesitated, asking warily, “So how bad is it? My leg?”
“Um…”
Sitting up, Rodney stared down at him, “Um? What kind of answer is that? If you were trying for reassurance let me assure you that it fell flat with um.” He glanced down at the bloody bandage and suddenly felt light headed. Sinking back to the ground, he found John’s embrace more comforting than anything. “Next time try quantifying your um with a ‘not bad’. It would certainly have more impact on my self assurance, than an ominous ‘um’.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
Silence descended. Several minutes passed. “So how bad is it?”
John laughed, “Shut up, Rodney. Carson will fix you up as good as new.”
Rolling a bit, Rodney edged into John’s side, laying his head on his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
Resting a hand on Rodney’s forearm where it lay on his stomach, John answered quietly, “Yes, I’m sure. Now go back to sleep.” Lifting his head, John placed a very light kiss on Rodney’s head.
“Fine,” said McKay, but it lacked his normal acerbic tone and they both relaxed, letting sleep take them.
John woke the next morning feeling warm and uncomfortable, a heavy weight keeping him pinned to the ground. Recollection followed and he realized the heat was coming from Rodney. Slipping out from under the scientist, who didn’t stir, John noticed how flushed he’d become overnight. He reached out and nudged him awake, “Rodney? Wake up.”
Eyelids fluttering, Rodney’s blue eyes were fever glazed when he finally opened them. He muttered, “Why?” Wetting a clean sock from his pack, John wiped Rodney’s face and was rewarded with a sigh, “More.”
“Demanding aren’t you?”
“I’m sick, I’m entitled,” mumbled Rodney. The painkiller was wearing off judging by his tight features.
“You want some Tylenol? It’s not much but it’s all there is,” asked John, his touch gentle and his voice soothing as he continued to cool Rodney’s heated body with the damp cloth.
“Hot.”
“I know, you’ve got a fever. Let’s sit you up and get you a drink.”
Only with John’s help did Rodney manage to sit up. He leaned heavily into him as he took pills and washed them down with several cool sips of water. It eased his dry, parched throat. Rodney looked around in a daze, barely aware it was morning. “Can I have my pants now?”
“You sure?” asked John, knowing it would be a painful process to get them back on.
“Yes, I’m sure,” retorted Rodney, groggily. “I’d rather everyone didn’t see me fleshed out like this.”
John nodded. “Can you sit by yourself or you want to lie back down?”
“Is unconsciousness an option, because that sounds the most promising right now?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” John said, his voice filled with worry.
Rodney nodded weakly and braced himself on one hand so John could retrieve his clothes. It took only a second and he was back. Reaching for his knife, John cut the bottom of the torn pant leg off. “You ready?”
“No.” He looked at John and spoke, his tone apologetic, “Maybe we should do the shirt first, in case…” Pausing, he added hurriedly, “In case I pass out.”
John agreed with a grimace, “I hate when your right.” Making sure all the sand was brushed off his back, John helped Rodney with his shirt. Actually Rodney wasn’t much help but at least he cooperated. The pants were a different matter altogether. As much as he wanted to help, the pain took over and Rodney was reduced to lying on his back, breathing harshly and thinking maybe modesty was overrated. When it was finally done, John slipped up to Rodney’s head and lifted it into his lap. He couldn’t help but tease, “Great idea.”
Rodney swiped the sweat off his face and ground out between clenched teeth, “Fuck you.”
About to respond, John was cut off by the sound in his earpiece.
“Major Sheppard, report please.”
“Elizabeth, it’s nice to hear from you. We could use a little help here. Did Ford and Teyla make it back?”
“Yes, about five minutes ago. We were hoping you would be on the way as well.”
“We ran into a little misunderstanding with the native dogs. McKay can’t walk. We need a jumper and a med team.”
“I’ll send one through immediately. Is there a place for them to land, Major?”
John looked around them. It would be close, but it was doable. He keyed his radio, “Have Markham fly it. It’s gonna be tight.”
“Alright, they’ll be there as quickly as they can. How is Rodney doing?”
“The dogs took a nice chunk out of his leg and the morphine wore off about an hour ago,” said John, hoping that would be enough to convince Elizabeth they needed to hurry. He really didn’t want to go into the way Rodney was biting on his lip to keep from moaning.
“Understood, Major.”
“Sheppard, out.”
Rodney looked up at John, asking warily, “Chunk?”
“I was exaggerating,” hedged Sheppard, not sounding very convincing. He shrugged and said with a feigned smile, “The chunk is still there.”
“You really need to work on your presentation skills,” muttered Rodney. His body trembled with the pain and John silently dropped a hand to the scientist’s hair, stroking it comfortingly.
Hesitating a second, Rodney reached up and clasped John’s neck then pulled him down for a kiss. It lacked the passion it might have had under different circumstances, but it spoke volumes for both men, as they pulled away, John’s hazel eyes locked on to Rodney’s and he asked tenderly, “What was that for?”
Rodney smiled warmly, “Because right here, right now, I could.”
John sadly closed his eyes, licking his lips unconsciously as he spoke, his voice low with regret, “You know when we get back we can’t…”
Interrupting him, Rodney sighed, “I know.” His eyes met John’s and saw his own disappointment mirrored there, “But I wanted to do that just once.”
Leaning over him, John initiated a second kiss, as soft as the first but lingering. “Maybe some day.”
His eyes drifted closed and Rodney whispered, “I can wait.”
John’s fingers lightly caressed Rodney’s face, memorizing the feel of his hair, his skin, the light stubble of beard. His hand stilled as the jumper appeared and drifted to a less conspicuous spot, but not before he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion, “I can wait too.”
********
Rodney was cleaned up and lying in the infirmary bed, his heavily wrapped leg elevated when John arrived several hours later. He was fiddling with his blankets already looking bored despite the slightly drugged look.
“How you feeling?”
Glancing at John, Rodney smiled, “Better. I think Carson has been holding out on the good stuff because you could drive a truck over me right now and I wouldn’t feel it.”
John chuckled, “Pleasant roadkill visual. Thanks.” He stood beside the bed and with a quick glance over his shoulder he let his hand slip into Rodney’s. “What did Carson have to say?”
Rodney squeezed the hand holding his, “Oh you know, crutches, PT, the usual.”
“Hey, I understand crutches are a real chick magnet,” teased John.
“Hmph. Really?”
“So they say,” shrugged Sheppard, and he pulled his hand away from Rodney’s only to have it held for a moment longer.
He looked at McKay and received a single request as his hand was released, “Stay?”
Their eyes met for a brief second of understanding before John turned and grabbed a nearby chair and plopped down, “Sure.”
“Thanks,” said Rodney quietly. He shifted on the bed and graced Sheppard with a devious smile, “So…can I talk you into sneaking my laptop in here?”
John laughed, shaking his head, “Oh right, so that way I’m the one that gets in trouble. You think I want to piss off Carson? The man has ways to torture that would put the professionals to shame, McKay.”
“Oh please, Major. Don’t tell me you are afraid of the man.” Their light hearted banter continued, both finding it easy to slip back into what was second nature. And yet there was something new between them now, buried behind their eyes. A new understanding that would remain untouched… until someday.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
His eyes drifted closed and Rodney whispered, “I can wait.”
John’s fingers lightly caressed Rodney’s face, memorizing the feel of his hair, his skin, the light stubble of beard. His hand stilled as the jumper appeared and drifted to a less conspicuous spot, but not before he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion, “I can wait too.”
*Wibble*
From:
no subject
Glad you liked it.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject