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Title: Broken Trust
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chaps1870
Pairing: McShep
Rating: R
Summary: Rodney tries to regain the trust he's lost only it doesn't work out like he plans
Disclaimer: Not mine, too bad.
A/N Short, but gets you where you wanna be and not too cliffish. And now it is my bedtime. *G*
Chapter Five
As consciousness returned, so did the pain. It was worse than the first time and with it came the shame of what had transpired just before the welcoming darkness. Rodney’s throat felt raw and dry, probably from screaming. He lay in a heap on the floor, trying to get air to his lungs without the agonizing pain that followed each desperate breath. Opening his eyes made the room spin violently and self preservation dictated he close them or risk puking. The thought of heaving was enough to quell the desire to see at the moment.
His mind drifted in and out, finding focus difficult. Shifting on the floor, he cried out and tensed when every muscle and bone protested. It was too hard to breath and the burning pain in ass was a grim reminder of what he didn’t want to remember. The only affect it had was to get him moving, afraid that if he closed his eyes and gave into the sweet darkness, he’d never get up again and all the sacrifice would be for naught. His team had entrusted him with their lives and he’d promised himself to never take it for granted again. He’d unwittingly done so with the Colonel and this was his only chance at redemption.
Pulling his legs under him, he grimaced as they threatened to cramp and his teeth clenched. Dragging his arms enough to rise up to his hands and knees, he fell forward, his head resting on the cool floor. Several breaths later Rodney tried again, using the table to pull himself to his feet, leaning into it heavily as he fought to stay upright. The pain was almost overwhelming and sweat soaked through his clothes, making him shiver. Opening his eyes as the nausea passed, he spotted the two bags on the table. A quick glance about the room brought surprise as he realized for the first time that he was alone.
Too tired and too hurt to wonder about the implications, he reached for the bags and pulled them into his chest, guarding the contents as if they were precious metal. It was difficult to walk, his legs rubbery and stiff at the same time. Stumbling towards the door, he could feel something dripping down his thigh, but he refused to acknowledge it and staggered into the hall. Stinging sweat dripped into his eyes and he blinked away the saltiness, letting the wall hold him up until he got his bearings.
His mind focused on going forward, the unknown condition of his teammates, John especially, driving him on. It seemed to take forever and each step grew heavier until his strength gave out and he fell to his knees, coughing. Falling forward onto his hands, he watched in morbid fascination as blood splattered onto the floor beneath him with each cough, wondering absently where it had come from.
Glancing down, he found one hand clenching his PDA and the other, two cloth bags. Sinking to the floor, he clenched the items to his chest, refusing to release his hold on them. Rodney knew he had to keep moving but he could no longer remember why exactly, only that he had to protect his possessions until he reached his destination. Even knowing he had to keep going, he needed a moment to rest. Just a minute and he’d feel better. Closing his eyes, he drifted easily into blissful peace.
He didn’t feel the pain of his injuries. He didn’t hear the distant gunfire. He didn’t see the alarmed look on his rescuer’s faces. He didn’t feel them pull the PDA from his hand and rush off, leaving him alone in Carson’s care. The only thing that registered in his mind was them trying to take the bags. His fingers clenched, squeezing tightly in a death grip the most important thing to him…trust.
******
The trapdoor opened and both Ronon and Teyla waited anxiously for Doctor McKay to appear. Shock and relief registered on their faces when Major Lorne’s appeared and he called down to them, “Do you need help?”
Ronon reacted immediately, grabbing Colonel Sheppard and draping him carefully over his shoulder, “We can make it.” He climbed the ladder, Teyla right behind him as she asked worriedly, “Have you found Dr. McKay?”
“Yeah, Dr. Beckett is with him,” answered Lorne, helping Ronon with the Colonel as Teyla emerged from the pit. Nearly five days in the dark with little or no food made even Ronon look haggard and gaunt. Teyla had faired no better and both were covered in dirt and grime.
Teyla squinted in the harsh light, “How is he?”
Lorne hesitated then shook his head, his eyes not meeting hers or Ronon’s. “He didn’t look very good.”
Impatient, Ronon growled, “Sheppard needs a doctor.” He shifted the burden on his shoulders as he retrieved his weapons from the other soldiers as they offered them back, having confiscated them from the natives. Teyla did the same and they wasted no time replacing them on their person.
Pointing down the hall as he led the way, Lorne spoke hurriedly, “This way.”
Arriving at the place where he’d left the McKay, Major Lorne was surprised by the activity surrounding the scientist and the medical team. He’d already been shifted to a stretcher and an IV was dripping fluids into his system. Rodney’s jacket and shirt had been cut away and Carson was crouched over him carefully inserting a chest tube. As he continued to work, barking orders as he tried to stabilize McKay, the others shifted their attention to Colonel Sheppard.
As Ronon lowered him to the floor, the Colonel roused, his eyes glazed over with fever. He glanced around, recognition coming very slowly. As his eyes found Rodney’s still form, they widened in alarm. Ignoring the efforts to keep him flat, he batted hands away as if they were a minor annoyance in his attempt to shift closer to McKay.
Teyla dropped down and tried to reason with him. “You need to let them look at your shoulder, Colonel.”
Carson looked up to see what the commotion was and seeing the Colonel’s face, barked at his team, “Sedate him if you have to. We need to get Rodney back to Atlantis. He’s punctured a lung and who knows what else they’ve done to him.”
John’s eyes never left Rodney. The heavy bruising was a sharp contrast against Rodney’s pale skin and without his shirt, it was obvious he’d taken a terrible beating. Letting the medical team tend his shoulder, John looked at Carson, his eyes glistening with more than fever, “Is he gonna make it?”
“I don’t know, Colonel. The only response we’ve gotten is when I tried to take the bags from him.” His head nodded towards the two bags that rested against Rodney’s side, his fingers still entangled in the draw strings.
John paled noticeably as his eyes fell on the bigger of the two bags, recognizing it for what it was. His head dropped and he whispered, “Aw damn it, Rodney. Why?”
Finishing with Rodney, Carson asked, “What’s in the bag?”
Shaking his head, Sheppard answered, “Food.” The Colonel’s eyes seemed to lose focus and they rolled back just before he swayed and tipped to the side. Hands reached out and lowered him to the floor.
Major Lorne got on his radio, “Wimsat, I need you up here ASAP. You’re gonna fly the other jumper. Bring another stretcher too.” An answer must have been made because Lorne responded, then addressed Ronon, “Do you feel up to leading a few of my men to the other jumper. Take the Colonel’s remote. Lieutenant Wimsat can fly it home.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” said Ronon, anxious to be doing something besides standing around useless. He took his coat that Teyla had grabbed from their cell and putting it on, waited only long enough for Wimsat to arrive before leaving without a backward glance.
Lorne shooed his men to follow. “Keep your eyes open, I don’t want to make another rescue.” The natives had put up a gallant fight but it took very little time to overpower them. Those they missed had vanished as suddenly as they’d appeared. He stood over Dr. Beckett, asking quietly, “I got a jumper waiting outside. We’re ready when you are.”
Getting Sheppard on the second stretcher, Carson nodded, “Aye. Let’s go then. The sooner we get back the better.”
Walking with Teyla as they made their way to the jumper, Carson looked her over, asking softly, “How are you doing then, lass?”
Teyla’s eyes never left the two stretchers in front of them, but her shoulders slumped slightly. “I am very tired.”
Part Six
Author:
chaps1870Pairing: McShep
Rating: R
Summary: Rodney tries to regain the trust he's lost only it doesn't work out like he plans
Disclaimer: Not mine, too bad.
A/N Short, but gets you where you wanna be and not too cliffish. And now it is my bedtime. *G*
Chapter Five
As consciousness returned, so did the pain. It was worse than the first time and with it came the shame of what had transpired just before the welcoming darkness. Rodney’s throat felt raw and dry, probably from screaming. He lay in a heap on the floor, trying to get air to his lungs without the agonizing pain that followed each desperate breath. Opening his eyes made the room spin violently and self preservation dictated he close them or risk puking. The thought of heaving was enough to quell the desire to see at the moment.
His mind drifted in and out, finding focus difficult. Shifting on the floor, he cried out and tensed when every muscle and bone protested. It was too hard to breath and the burning pain in ass was a grim reminder of what he didn’t want to remember. The only affect it had was to get him moving, afraid that if he closed his eyes and gave into the sweet darkness, he’d never get up again and all the sacrifice would be for naught. His team had entrusted him with their lives and he’d promised himself to never take it for granted again. He’d unwittingly done so with the Colonel and this was his only chance at redemption.
Pulling his legs under him, he grimaced as they threatened to cramp and his teeth clenched. Dragging his arms enough to rise up to his hands and knees, he fell forward, his head resting on the cool floor. Several breaths later Rodney tried again, using the table to pull himself to his feet, leaning into it heavily as he fought to stay upright. The pain was almost overwhelming and sweat soaked through his clothes, making him shiver. Opening his eyes as the nausea passed, he spotted the two bags on the table. A quick glance about the room brought surprise as he realized for the first time that he was alone.
Too tired and too hurt to wonder about the implications, he reached for the bags and pulled them into his chest, guarding the contents as if they were precious metal. It was difficult to walk, his legs rubbery and stiff at the same time. Stumbling towards the door, he could feel something dripping down his thigh, but he refused to acknowledge it and staggered into the hall. Stinging sweat dripped into his eyes and he blinked away the saltiness, letting the wall hold him up until he got his bearings.
His mind focused on going forward, the unknown condition of his teammates, John especially, driving him on. It seemed to take forever and each step grew heavier until his strength gave out and he fell to his knees, coughing. Falling forward onto his hands, he watched in morbid fascination as blood splattered onto the floor beneath him with each cough, wondering absently where it had come from.
Glancing down, he found one hand clenching his PDA and the other, two cloth bags. Sinking to the floor, he clenched the items to his chest, refusing to release his hold on them. Rodney knew he had to keep moving but he could no longer remember why exactly, only that he had to protect his possessions until he reached his destination. Even knowing he had to keep going, he needed a moment to rest. Just a minute and he’d feel better. Closing his eyes, he drifted easily into blissful peace.
He didn’t feel the pain of his injuries. He didn’t hear the distant gunfire. He didn’t see the alarmed look on his rescuer’s faces. He didn’t feel them pull the PDA from his hand and rush off, leaving him alone in Carson’s care. The only thing that registered in his mind was them trying to take the bags. His fingers clenched, squeezing tightly in a death grip the most important thing to him…trust.
******
The trapdoor opened and both Ronon and Teyla waited anxiously for Doctor McKay to appear. Shock and relief registered on their faces when Major Lorne’s appeared and he called down to them, “Do you need help?”
Ronon reacted immediately, grabbing Colonel Sheppard and draping him carefully over his shoulder, “We can make it.” He climbed the ladder, Teyla right behind him as she asked worriedly, “Have you found Dr. McKay?”
“Yeah, Dr. Beckett is with him,” answered Lorne, helping Ronon with the Colonel as Teyla emerged from the pit. Nearly five days in the dark with little or no food made even Ronon look haggard and gaunt. Teyla had faired no better and both were covered in dirt and grime.
Teyla squinted in the harsh light, “How is he?”
Lorne hesitated then shook his head, his eyes not meeting hers or Ronon’s. “He didn’t look very good.”
Impatient, Ronon growled, “Sheppard needs a doctor.” He shifted the burden on his shoulders as he retrieved his weapons from the other soldiers as they offered them back, having confiscated them from the natives. Teyla did the same and they wasted no time replacing them on their person.
Pointing down the hall as he led the way, Lorne spoke hurriedly, “This way.”
Arriving at the place where he’d left the McKay, Major Lorne was surprised by the activity surrounding the scientist and the medical team. He’d already been shifted to a stretcher and an IV was dripping fluids into his system. Rodney’s jacket and shirt had been cut away and Carson was crouched over him carefully inserting a chest tube. As he continued to work, barking orders as he tried to stabilize McKay, the others shifted their attention to Colonel Sheppard.
As Ronon lowered him to the floor, the Colonel roused, his eyes glazed over with fever. He glanced around, recognition coming very slowly. As his eyes found Rodney’s still form, they widened in alarm. Ignoring the efforts to keep him flat, he batted hands away as if they were a minor annoyance in his attempt to shift closer to McKay.
Teyla dropped down and tried to reason with him. “You need to let them look at your shoulder, Colonel.”
Carson looked up to see what the commotion was and seeing the Colonel’s face, barked at his team, “Sedate him if you have to. We need to get Rodney back to Atlantis. He’s punctured a lung and who knows what else they’ve done to him.”
John’s eyes never left Rodney. The heavy bruising was a sharp contrast against Rodney’s pale skin and without his shirt, it was obvious he’d taken a terrible beating. Letting the medical team tend his shoulder, John looked at Carson, his eyes glistening with more than fever, “Is he gonna make it?”
“I don’t know, Colonel. The only response we’ve gotten is when I tried to take the bags from him.” His head nodded towards the two bags that rested against Rodney’s side, his fingers still entangled in the draw strings.
John paled noticeably as his eyes fell on the bigger of the two bags, recognizing it for what it was. His head dropped and he whispered, “Aw damn it, Rodney. Why?”
Finishing with Rodney, Carson asked, “What’s in the bag?”
Shaking his head, Sheppard answered, “Food.” The Colonel’s eyes seemed to lose focus and they rolled back just before he swayed and tipped to the side. Hands reached out and lowered him to the floor.
Major Lorne got on his radio, “Wimsat, I need you up here ASAP. You’re gonna fly the other jumper. Bring another stretcher too.” An answer must have been made because Lorne responded, then addressed Ronon, “Do you feel up to leading a few of my men to the other jumper. Take the Colonel’s remote. Lieutenant Wimsat can fly it home.”
“Yeah, I can do that,” said Ronon, anxious to be doing something besides standing around useless. He took his coat that Teyla had grabbed from their cell and putting it on, waited only long enough for Wimsat to arrive before leaving without a backward glance.
Lorne shooed his men to follow. “Keep your eyes open, I don’t want to make another rescue.” The natives had put up a gallant fight but it took very little time to overpower them. Those they missed had vanished as suddenly as they’d appeared. He stood over Dr. Beckett, asking quietly, “I got a jumper waiting outside. We’re ready when you are.”
Getting Sheppard on the second stretcher, Carson nodded, “Aye. Let’s go then. The sooner we get back the better.”
Walking with Teyla as they made their way to the jumper, Carson looked her over, asking softly, “How are you doing then, lass?”
Teyla’s eyes never left the two stretchers in front of them, but her shoulders slumped slightly. “I am very tired.”
Part Six
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*wibbles*
*cluches boys and rocks*
*wonders how you manage to render her speechless every time*
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I'm kind of glad all the physical owies are over. You've been awful to poor Rodney!
However I can't wait to read about his recovery, especially when he learns that what he suffered at the end has been meaningless because they were rescued...
Wonderful chapter as always!!
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