Angst, Week 1: Reckless Abandon (2/4)
Title: Reckless Abandon
Author: hollow_echos
Genre: Angst
Prompt: Collateral Damage
Word Count: 27,000
Rating: PG-13 (Language only)
Warnings: None
Summary: The team goes off world to help with a routine evacuation mission during a monsoon. Rodney’s left behind on the planet and water levels are rising. Our favorite scientist is left praying for a miracle and a last minute rescue from his teammates.
Notes: A huge shout out goes to Rusting_roses for her wonderful betaing, for listening to my frustrations with this fic, for helping me ironing out the plot, and for being an all around awesome person. This story might not have happened without her support.
[ Part One] [ Part Two] [ Part Three] [ Part Four]
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Chapter 4 - This is NOT an Ark
Rodney was slowly climbing his way to the highest ground on the island up by that twin pair of trees he'd seen earlier. And the moving this time was much slower, he thought, as he threw a look back to see the canoe bobbing up and down on the waves as he pulled it along behind him. After calming himself down enough to start formulating a plan the first priority was gathering whatever supplies he did have. There were those boats tethered down on the beach and nothing else, really. He'd picked the one that looked the sturdiest and filled it with anything that he'd found in the other boats that looked useful. Again, that hadn't been of much use either, though he'd found two tattered blankets that were soaked through and added them to his watercraft before dragging it behind him.
It wasn't too difficult to pull along, the physics portion of his brain commented that this small bit of good fortune could be attributed to the lack of friction on water. No, for all the things that were wrong with this situation, there wasn't a need for rushing around. The water was rising steadily, but it still wasn't up to his waist and the walk up to the highest portion of the island shouldn't take him much longer.
He clamped his jaw shut as his teeth started chattering again. As soon as he managed to still that involuntary reaction the movement moved down into his shoulders where the muscles started contracting, shivering, in an effort to maintain whatever heat they had available.
He took a moment to readjust his one hand that was going a bit numb from where the scratchy rope was wrapped around it several times. The other hand was held in front of him for the inevitable times he would stumble over some unseen obstacle under the water and fall. After the second time he'd found that holding a hand out in front prepared to catch him minimized the bruises and cuts. He was pretty sure the latest memento from a fall was the bruising he could feel blossoming around his left eye.
He couldn't help but let his mind wander as he climbed. A part of him almost missed the bustle and rushing around against a deadline of some sort, whether it be finding a way to cloak the city before the wraith arrived or warding off some similar imminent disaster. Here and now, this was different. There was ocean in every direction, a small plot of stone beneath his feet, and nothing else. He was stuck here on this rock, at the mercy of the weather on this planet. There was no dazzling idea that he could use to manipulate technology into cooperating in such a way as to save him; the raw tools he worked with were back in Atlantis. He had a boat, a few soggy blankets, and somewhere he would have to find the patience to ride this out. He wouldn't be creating the miracle this time, he'd be praying for one. That alone left a solid sense of dread in his gut like a pile of smoldering cinders; he should be able to do something, anything, to better the chances of his survival. Yet the best he was going to be able to do was stay alive, stay out of the water, and stay as warm as he could and hope for Sheppard to come back for him. Who was he kidding? That was assuming that Sheppard and Teyla and Ronon were ok...he still had no idea where they might have gone, why they had left, or if they themselves were stranded somewhere in the open water.
He stopped as his hand hit something solid in front of him. Blinking his eyes a few times, he tried to force everything to come back into focus. Oh, it was one of the palm trees. He flexed his hands a few times experimentally, trying to encourage blood flow to restore feeling to them. He needed at least enough dexterity to get the rope tied around the tree. It took a few moments before he could get a full fist formed. Once he was capable of doing that, he unwrapped the boat's rope from his hand and instead began coiling it around the tree trunk and tying it off. He checked the knot to make sure it wouldn't come loose. That was one of the few things he could do to worsen his situation- float off into the ocean where his teammates might never find him.
He threw one leg over the edge of the boat, hopping a few times to build up height with each one before he attempted to jump over the side and into the canoe. The canoe rolled over, McKay's eyes stung as they were suddenly assaulted by darkness and salt water.
Suddenly disoriented he tried to take a sharp inhalation of air, only to choke on the water. He began flailing his arms around; his first priority was to get his head back above the water. It took him a moment but the blackness that he'd experienced underwater faded into the twilight of the world around him, a little light peaking in through the clouds. The boat was forgotten as he contracted his ribs, spitting out water with each hacking breath as he struggled to replace its presence in his lungs with air.
A few minutes passed in such a manner, him hunched over, steadying himself against the tree trunk as he gasped for air. When the sense of dizziness passed he stood upright and pushed a few bits of waterlogged hair out of his face with a shaking hand.
He pulled the rope hand over hand and drew the overturned watercraft toward him. Once it was close he grasped the edges and flipped it over. There was an inch or so of water in the bottom, but with nothing to bail it out with and more falling from the clouds anyways, there wasn't much point in trying to get rid of it. He pushed the canoe up against the tree this time, wedging it between the trunk and his own body and made another attempt to climb into the boat, collapsing into a heap on the hard wood surface as he managed to do it without flipping the boat this time. He raised himself up on weak arms, dragging himself to the front of the canoe where he laid down on his back. He draped one of the soggy blankets over his shivering body before settling back against the hull and closing his eyes as the water continued to run down his face in continuous streams. He tightened his grip a bit more around the edge of the blanket and took a deep sigh. All that was left now was to wait and hope.
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Two sensations, only two, were continuously pulsing through his body: coldness, and wetness. The combination was like an ice pick grating along his nerves every time his body decided to descend into another round of shivering.
Rodney had drawn his legs up against his chest and wrapped his arms around that to minimize his exposure to the elements. It had perhaps slowed the speed with which the world was becoming fuzzier. His extremities were little more than lumps of ice at this point. If they were coming they better make it quick.
All of a sudden there was a gust of wind followed closely by a thud at the other end of the boat that caught his attention. That end of the boat dipped a little lower in the water than it would've normally with the movements of the waves. "What the..." He forced his limbs to cooperate as he sat halfway up.
A burst of energy spurred more rapid movements as something moved on the other end of the boat. His muscles tensed, and he reached for the gun that usually hung from his belt at Sheppard's prodding...only to realize he'd left it in the jumper. He hadn't anticipated even getting out of the jumper, and when he had, he hadn't thought to bring it with him. It was supposed to be a quick run to the beach and back, not anything like the seemingly endless stay it had become.
He leaned forward a bit clumsily with his sluggish limbs doing little to steady him as something green scuttled across the deck toward him. Fish? Sea monster? Mutant bird of some sort? Atlantis and its creepy variety of wildlife had given his imagination plenty of material to work with.
He moved a bit closer, cautiously, the form had stopped moving. He raised an eyebrow. "Well you fail on the fright scale," he said as he examined the iguana-looking animal. It was about a foot and a half long and looking up at him. It looked harmless enough. He quickly snapped a hand down and wrapped it around its neck. The lizard's demeanor flipped into an aggressive state as it began scratching at him with all four legs and wrenching its neck back and forth, trying to wriggle out of McKay's grasp.
Rodney brought up his other hand to stabilize his grip, leaning out over the side of the boat and throwing it out into the water, watching it swim with just its head above the waves. Good riddance. He winced as he ran a hand along his arm. There were several red marks from where the iguana had gotten a good claw mark in, but nothing had broken skin. He rubbed at them softly as he settled back into his previously adopted position at the front of the boat and closed his eyes with a deep sigh.
He cracked one eye as another abnormal jerk interrupted the normal rocking motion of the boat. The iguana had hopped up and was sitting on the edge of the canoe, all four feet wrapped around the edge as it squatted there watching McKay warily.
"For god's sake, this is NOT an ark. Go away, shoo!" He waved his hand at the animal, hoping it would take the message to heart. He went to grab it again but the lizard flared out a set of red neck frills causing McKay to pause, startled.
"Well isn't that cute...I'm sure you're a hit with the ladies. Or maybe great at intimidating others of your kind. Might work a little better on me if I wasn't about ten times your size, but maybe that doesn't cross over into lizard comprehension. Points for effort, though," he said as he lowered a hand in to grab the creature again. This time it moved faster, snapping its head out at McKay and catching the space between Rodney's thumb and his other fingers in his mouth.
"Ouch!" Rodney drew his hand back, shaking it back and forth to try to get rid of the sting. The lizard cocked its head and hissed at him, whipping its tail back and forth, gently smacking it against the wooden shell of the boat.
"Look, this is my boat! Go find your own. I am not in the mood to share with the local wildlife."
The two stared at each other for a few beats. He sighed. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let it stay. It wasn't like there was anyone out here to keep him company. What harm could a lizard do? It didn't seem to keen on being handled, but it didn't have teeth, he'd found that out when it had bit him. Probably a local herbivore of some sort, trying to make it through this mess just like he was. "Fine, stay if you feel so inclined. That end of the boat though, this here is my end."
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Chapter 5 - Cold-blooded Creatures
For all his raincoat was doing anymore Rodney may as well have gone swimming in the ocean. God, it was cold. He ran a shaky hand over his face to wipe away the rivets of water that were running into his eyes. Pulling his hand away, he looked at his fingers. If you looked at his hands you would've thought this situation had aged him a good twenty years, his hands were a mass of wrinkled skin pruned by the water.
Thunder cracked overhead and the tree branches above creaked under the strain of the buffeting wind. Rodney pushed himself up a bit from where he had gradually slid down into a reclined position, the hours taking their toll. He pinched the edge of the boat's edge between his thumb and remaining fingers to stabilize against the pitching of the white capping waves. Whoever thought the rocking of a boat was a good way to be lulled into unconsciousness should give it a second consideration. If they still weren't convinced he'd gladly give them a run in this canoe on the open seas.
A large wave crashed against the hull of the boat and McKay let out a startled gasp as his whole body was thrown against the side of the boat and the ocean spray doused him with a few more buckets' worth of water. He snarled and spit the salty liquid from his mouth. Rodney maneuvered himself into a sitting position again, reluctantly moving his arms away from where he had previously wrapped them around his torso to minimize the loss of body heat. He instead grabbed the edge of the boat, this time with one hand on each side of the boat to prevent his body from being thrown about like a ragdoll. The wood was saturated and slimy beneath his palms, slick with far too much water exposure.
With a squint McKay looked out into the ocean, letting own a quiet disappointed sigh. All the land was gone. This boat was now the only refuge he had against the storm. A man adrift, abandoned. Abandoned by his friends. He'd wracked his mind for any explanation that could justify their leaving him here. The first few hours were spent making excuses: the wind was too strong and they had needed to retreat to the mainland or risk barreling into the ocean. Maybe equipment malfunctions had occurred and he hadn't been there to set the jumper straight, again necessitating their departure.
And as the hours had slipped past, as he had lost the feeling in his toes, the doubt began creeping into his mind. That dread had slithered up through his limbs to curl into a knot in his stomach. They'd decided that waiting for him wasn't worth the risk of staying out here and cut their losses to head back to Atlantis. Or maybe McKay's sharp tongue had offended his team one time too many and they'd purposely left him here. He'd already played that scenario out in his head, the team sipping hot chocolate back in the mess, laughing and joking with one another, completely ignoring the empty seat at their table where he'd normally be sitting.
Another shudder went through him and he winced. There were a million things that could've caused his team leaving him. They had left him. Forget all of the reasons that might have caused it, the result was the same no matter what hypothetical scenario he ran through: they had left him out here alone in a storm that was likely to kill him. If his boat didn't get flipped by the waves which had gradually grown in height over the last few hours, the cold would get him, he'd finally slip into unconsciousness and that'd be the end of one Rodney McKay.
McKay noticed that there was some sort of lump under his left leg. His brow dipped downward in contemplation as he shifted his leg over to see what was causing the disturbance. Moving it over, he saw a stationary green body. His mouth curved into a frown as he gently picked it up wondering if he would be following the same path toward his own demise. He set the iguana on his lap, running a light finger over the ridges along its spine. The animal's neck was twisted at a strange angle and its limbs rested motionless against Rodney's own thighs. The animal might have been hostile before, but it was at least another living thing to ride out the storm with. He really was alone now.
Rodney felt the lizard's chest gave a weak heave and he immediately stopped stroking it and brought it up closer to his face to examine it, squinting through the rain to do so. The chest was barely moving, but it wasn't dormant. The animal wasn't a corpse yet. He puzzled at it for a moment, watching the iguana hang limply in his grasp.
"Cold. It's cold," he muttered to himself in thought, "And you're a cold-blooded reptile." That could explain why the feral animal, which had been so hostile earlier, had curled up against Rodney. McKay might not have much heat left, but it was more than this reptile had possessed. Out of desperation, it had ignored its desire to avoid Rodney and instead settled in against him to maintain body heat, even the tiny bit Rodney's chilled body could offer might just be enough to survive.
He sat up a bit straighter and unzipped the top half of his jacket, wincing as the cold wind stung his neck. He slid the iguana into the jacket on top of his flack vest, and zipped it back over the top, leaving just its head peaking out below his own chin. Maybe being inside his jacket might warm it back up. He wrapped his arms across his chest, hunkered down into the boat to escape the wind, and resumed his vigil.
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Zelenka rushed back into his lab, his attention so focused on his data pad that he was abruptly brought to a halt as he collided with Sheppard. He rebounded off the colonel, one leg getting caught on the other as he fell backward and the data pad went flying from his grip. Disregarding preparing himself for an impact with the ground, he stretched both arms out in an attempt to snatch the data pad out of the air on its descent. Sheppard prevented the scientist from falling all the way by catching one of the man's arms and pulling him back up to his feet with a grunt. Zelenka brushed him off, his gaze locked onto his data pad as it skidded across the ground.
"You alright Zelenka?"
"I'm fine! Let go please. I need to retrieve my data pad," he said in an impatient tone.
Sheppard shrugged and let the man go. Zelenka was scooping his device off the ground a second later, holding it out as he tapped out several sequences on the screen.
The Colonel stepped in inquiry toward Zelenka who was half turned away, "It's ok, right? They make those things extra sturdy. At least I think they do, I mean, McKay's has survived several situations I thought would've ended one of those things."
Zelenka didn't meet his gaze or stop typing, "Give me a moment, Colonel. I was working on data that I need to make sure wasn't disrupted."
Sheppard nodded even though the scientist wasn't looking to see it. He contented himself for a few moments with looking around the lab. The lab was a lot busier than it normally was with almost every desk station occupied with one of McKay's blue shirts. Zelenka must have called in every available body to work on this one, or else they had simply wandered in on their own after hearing the news. One creative scientist that must've missed out on claiming one of the stations had adapted an equipment cart into temporary desk space. He sat perched on a stool hunched over his computer at the improvised work station.
The colonel sighed, "Zelenka, I know you told me not to come down here and bother you but it's been several hours. Do you have anything for me?"
Zelenka blinked once and looked up, his hand finally stilling its rapid movements across the data pad as he turned his attention to the conversation, "Yes, actually. I think I might have figured out how to get Rodney."
Sheppard immediately shed his relaxed posture, now all business, "You have? Why didn't you call me?"
"I wanted to be sure that this would work. And I was heading back to my station to retrieve my radio. If it wasn't you calling every five minutes to check in it was Elizabeth or Carson or any other of a number of people. I left it there so I could work without being disturbed."
"Ok, well I'm here. Come on, Zelenka. What've we got," Sheppard asked, taking another step forward.
Zelenka unconsciously took a step back in response, not comfortable with someone that close to him, especially considering the sheer tension the colonel was radiating. "We can't get the gate to dial back to that planet. I've had two teams working exclusively on that-"
"I thought you said you had a solution for this...all I'm hearing is that you still haven't gotten over the same roadblock."
Radek rolled his eyes, "I was about to get to that part before you interrupted me. I've been slogging through the database, working on that back-up plan you wanted. I've found one address for a planet that is within jumper-flying distance of the planet where Rodney is."
"Ok, this could work. Did you find any more information on it in the database?"
The scientist shrugged, "It's a desert planet, that's all I have for you."
Sheppard gave a terse nod, "I can work with this. I'll get my team up the gate room. Meet me up there in ten minutes to dial through." Without giving the scientist a chance to respond he was jogging off. Zelenka gave a slight shake of his head and a slight smirk as he saw the colonel tapping his radio and speaking in a fast, exciting voice. They'd find Rodney and bring him home. Sheppard was already organizing his team before he had even reached the hallway attached to the lab, he'd bring him home.
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Chapter 6 - That Cold Feeling
There was silence in the jumper as they proceeded toward the planet. It was a change from the initial excitement that initially had permeated the atmosphere inside the jumper. They'd headed through the gate to a desert landscape and Sheppard had immediately angled their flight trajectory upwards toward the vacuum of space.
He'd thrown a glance over his shoulder once or twice to see Teyla and Ronon looking out of the windows as the landscape shrunk below, giving way to the grey mist of clouds and eventually the blackness of space interspersed occasionally with small flecks of light in the distance, the light of stars reflected across vast distances. He couldn't help but smirk at Carson who kept his gaze purposefully pointed at the floor of the jumper like it was the most interesting thing around to ponder. That or he just didn't want to think about the fact that he was travelling in an alien space ship. The doc really did need to loosen up a bit and learn to really appreciate the small miracles and adventures they shared every day. A bit of enjoyment and amazement went a long way toward quelling the knot in his stomach over the absence of his friend.
But after that initial burst of excitement everything had fallen into an easy pace. He flew the jumper, Teyla appeared to be meditating. Ronon sat silently, watching Carson and the Colonel. Occasionally the big man sighed out of boredom or checked his gun for the sixth or seventh time. Beckett had occupied the first part of the trip by arranging his medical supplies in the order he thought they might be needed, and then he too had been resigned to the waiting game. His eyes were closed at the moment, arms crossed over his chest. Sheppard wasn't quite sure whether he was simply deep in thought or he might have genuinely drifted off. And so they had continued on for a time, a quiet and subdued mood within the walls of the jumper veiling what one otherwise would know to be an uneasy peace. The reason they were out there, to rescue a teammate; underneath the apparent calm this unspoken thought was on everyone's mind.
A few hours later it was eventually Sheppard who broke the silence, "Hey guys, we're about to break atmosphere. I'm not sure how smooth the ride is going to be with the storm and all. Might want to grab on to something."
There was a rustling of movement in the back. Ronon grunted in response to Sheppard's statement and checked his gun in his holster one more time. Teyla opened her eyes and stretched each stiff limb. When Beckett didn't respond Ronon gave him a soft bump in the ribs and murmured something too low for Sheppard to hear. But it apparently worked; Carson woke up and started moving around.
As for Sheppard himself, he kept his attention glued to the scene outside the jumper's windshield. Breaking atmosphere was the most risky part of any jumper flight and it required all of his attention. He stabilized his hands against the bumpy motions of the ship and its controls as they began their descent toward the planet's surface.
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Sheppard divided his attention between the flight path ahead and the display screen telling him where to navigate toward the gate. Or where the gate would be if it weren't underwater. From what they'd seen so far outside the jumper's window, the monsoon showed no sign of abating anytime soon. If Sheppard had to guess, he would say that the only direction the water levels had gone were probably up.
And then a blip appeared on his screen, a life sign, a signal. "Guys! I have Rodney's sub-q transmitter. He's alive," he shouted back over his shoulder.
There were a few relieved sighs and Sheppard increased the speed of the jumper, causing his teammates to brace themselves against the sudden change in motion. They'd do this just fine. The next ten minutes were tense. Sheppard kept looking at the screen, almost worried that the sign might blip out, that Rodney would disappear at the moment they were preparing to get him back. But they closed the distance quickly and the colonel began decelerating the jumper until they came to a halt over the location where the gate should have stood, where Rodney should be.
Sheppard dropped the hatch on the back of the jumper, the torrential downpour immediately beginning to soak the interior of the jumper near the entrance. Carson was on his feet, shielding his face against the wind with one hand as he tried to watch look for any sign of his friend out in the monsoon.
Ronon didn't wait for the jumper to stop all the way; he jumped off the back platform and into the water with a grunt before anyone had a chance to protest. The water came up to his chest and he plodded toward the boat which was bobbing near the tree. With his knife, he slashed through the rope anchoring it to the trunk and began pulling it back toward the jumper. Teyla and Beckett positioned themselves at the entrance. They held the boat steady as Ronon hauled himself back up into the jumper, giving a shake or two to shed some of the water weight his clothes had taken on before bending down and pulling their scientist's limp form from the waterlogged canoe.
As he turned and set the man down gently on the blanket that Carson had already set out he heard the jumper door shutting behind him. After depositing Rodney on the floor of the jumper he backed off to the side to let the doctor in to evaluate the man.
"Teyla, lass, I've gone through a bit of hypothermia treatment with you when you wanted to learn about field medicine. Feel up to helping me out with Rodney here." he asked as he began assessing the man.
"Of course, doctor," she said as she moved up beside him, waiting for his instruction before jumping in to assist.
Carson handed her an IV to hang from the webbing that sat above the benches to hold most of their supplies. In the meantime he began by checking for any signs of trauma that McKay might have obtained during his time on the planet that could explain his unconsciousness. Not finding any, he began cutting through the raincoat starting at the neck. He paused as he saw something green between the slit he had begun to make in the rain coat. He reached a gloved hand and drew something out of the jacket," What the..."
Teyla and Ronon's expression mirrored his own. Beckett held the reptile up in the light. It appeared to be breathing although it wasn't moving much...he held it out to Ronon, "Can you do something with this Ronon?"
He raised an eyebrow at the strange request but took it out of the physician's hands, "What do you want me to do with it? A little late to throw him back," Ronon muttered as eyed the closed hatch door.
Beckett shrugged although he kept his gaze locked on his patient, He continued cutting off the rain jacket and then began stripping the tactical vest off, "Just put it in a corner or something. Let me worry about Rodney here for a spell."
Sheppard kept an ear cocked to the conversation, "What is it?"
"A lizard of some sort seems to have taken residence in Rodney's jacket."
"I could kill it I suppose," Ronon added, fingering his gun with his empty hand, "It's a pest, right?"
"Let's not be getting trigger happy. It looks harmless enough," Beckett threw back at him. He might not want to play veterinarian for the critter, but that didn't mean it needed to be exterminated. As for the Satedan, he sometimes had to just shake his head and wonder whether Ronon didn't consider it a successful mission unless he got to fire his weapon at least once.
Ronon gave a resigned grunt but deposited the lizard on the bench and returned to sit on the ground next to Teyla and Carson as they continued to work. They'd gotten him stripped down to his boxers and toweled off in a matter of moments. Beckett then pulled a set of rolled up sweats from his bag and shook them out before throwing the pants to Ronon, "Alright lad, don't just be sitting there. Help me get these on Rodney. We could use a little extra muscle. Dressing an unconscious Rodney is a bit like trying to dress a sack of potatoes. Not the most graceful process."
Ronon gripped a corner of the pants that had just been deposited in his lap and moved over to help, filling in a spot next to the scientist as Carson moved aside to make room for him. Between the three of them they soon had Rodney in the dry clothing and Beckett then proceeded to wrap him in several more blankets.
Beckett sat back on his heels to survey the man. He still hadn't stirred. The most immediate concern taken care of- getting McKay warm and dry- he could slow down and begin a more thorough set of diagnostics. First thing he did was put a thermometer in the scientist's ear and set Teyla to holding it until the reading was finished registering.
He paused for a moment to watch Ronon nod in approval before the big man withdrew to the other side of the jumper, still on the ground and near enough to jump in if his presence was needed again. Beckett made eye contact with him and gave him a slight appreciative nod as he drew his penlight from his medical pack. Ronon returned the nod and Beckett did have to marvel for a moment that for such a quiet man, he was entirely receptive. He knew the exact moment when his presence was hindering instead of helping and had withdrawn without a single comment. Beckett felt a slight swell of pride for a moment. Ronon considered Rodney a friend and a teammate, one of the few people he had made a connection with since coming to the city. The soldier was entirely protective of his friends and it spoke volumes that Ronon had moved away to leave the man in Beckett's care as quickly as he had.
There was a beep of a thermometer and Carson shook his head and turned his attention back to the man lying before him. He let out a quiet, disapproving noise as Teyla handed him the thermometer. Rodney's core temperature was entirely too low at ninety-five degrees. That was a solid bout of hypothermia.
He put the thermometer aside and pulled back an eyelid to check his friend's pupil reactions. The sudden burst of light seemed to animate the man; he let out a low hiss and turned his head to the side to move it out of the line of the flashlight's beam. "Rodney, you with us lad?"
Rodney vaguely heard a voice calling out to him, but it was far away, muffled somehow. Like he was floating and someone was disturbing the peace and quiet. Like the voice was coming through a layer of water. Water. At that thought he began struggling. The boat had flipped and he was finally drowning, hallucinating his friends' presence in his final moments.
He tried to flail his limbs, to force his way to the surface and get some desperately needed air. His lungs were burning. A panic gripped him as he realized something was preventing him from moving his limbs, water? That watery grave and its comforting coffin rocking him gently to rest at the bottom of an ocean on an alien world. He arched his back and pushed harder against the restrictive bonds, this wasn't the way it was going to end!
Beckett watched the sheer terror in his patient's eyes and tried to calm him down with soft words. But his voice cut out mid-sentence when he realized the lad wasn't breathing. "Damn it, Teyla lass. Fetch me the oxygen if you could?"
He began stripping the blankets to either side to reveal the man's torso. The minute he had done so, though, Rodney's arms shot up to start resisting, "Ronon, can you hold him? He's not breathing; I need to treat this now!"
"Beckett, what's going on? Is Rodney ok," Sheppard anxiously asked from the front. Carson let the question hang in the air, too busy at the moment to take the time to ease the Colonel's fears.
Beckett swore he didn't even see Ronon move; a moment later the Satedan was by the scientist's side and holding his arms firmly against the metal floor. Beckett folded his hand into a fist and brought it down on Rodney's sternum with all of his weight behind the blow. McKay let out a startled breath and began rapidly exhaling and inhaling as his lungs gasped for air, "There we go lad. That's better. Much better."
He put a gentle hand on Ronon's tight grip and motioned for him to let go. He did so, but didn't withdraw this time, content to crouch where he was in case he was needed again.
Beckett kept his eyes glued to the scientist, watching his chest rapidly rise and sink as he continued to breathe in and out deeply. All of a sudden the man's hands twitched and contracted into fists and his eyes darted around the jumper until they froze on Carson's gaze, "Carson," he wheezed.
"Aye lad. Gave us a fine fright there you did. You with us now?"
"I-I think...Where are we?"
"In a jumper headed back to Atlantis to get you looked after. How are you feeling?"
"Tired. C-cold," he added weakly as a series of shivers ran through his limbs.
Beckett immediately began re-bundling the man in the wool blankets he had hastily discarded in his effort to restore his patient's breathing. He paused to examine his work, only the scientist's head peaked out above the mass of blankets, "There, that should start to warm you up."
"I can't move...feel like I'm in a cocoon."
"Aye, at least it's a warm one. Anything else bothering you lad?" the Scottish physician added a bit apprehensively.
The scientist shook his head back and forth before letting it drop back against the ground. He saw the man's eyelids start to sink as he lost the battle against his body's desire to sleep. Carson sighed. Really, the scientist should be kept awake, but he hadn't thought to bring the stimulants that would do the job. He'd just have to keep a very close watch on him for any signs of shock.
"Beckett! Is Rodney ok?!?" Sheppard shouted back again.
"Aye, he'll be ok once we get him back to Atlantis."
There was a relieved exhalation from the colonel, "Can you come up and take the controls so I can see for myself? I promise it pretty much flies itself, we just need someone with the gene in the command seat."
"Sorry John, I need to stay back here and keep an eye on Rodney."
"Come on Carson! Two minutes. He can't go south that fast....Please, I haven't seen him since I lost him on my watch," he finished with a tinge of guilt in his voice.
Beckett motioned for Ronon to move aside and he himself backed off a few steps to the side, "Then go ahead and look," he spoke to Sheppard.
Sheppard kept his hands on the controls but turned as far as he could without abandoning them. He craned his neck the rest of the way to be able to see. He inhaled sharply and shook his head, "He looks terrible."
"Aye, but he's alive and was up and talking for a minute there."
"Please, can I just sit with him for a minute?"
Beckett bit his lip but spoke firmly, "Colonel, you do the piloting, let me do the doctoring. You can visit him when we get back to the city and I get him settled."
John opened his mouth for a rebuttal but thought better of it and turned back to the navigation console. They were still a good few hours out from the city. He didn't want to wait that long, but he supposed he could do it. Rodney was a few feet away instead of the vast distance that had hung between them during this debacle. "Fine. Watch over him Carson," he added softly.
Beckett didn't give a verbal response but he nodded again as he settled the oxygen mask over Rodney's nose and mouth. He'd give the man no less than his best.
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Continued in Part Three
Author: hollow_echos
Genre: Angst
Prompt: Collateral Damage
Word Count: 27,000
Rating: PG-13 (Language only)
Warnings: None
Summary: The team goes off world to help with a routine evacuation mission during a monsoon. Rodney’s left behind on the planet and water levels are rising. Our favorite scientist is left praying for a miracle and a last minute rescue from his teammates.
Notes: A huge shout out goes to Rusting_roses for her wonderful betaing, for listening to my frustrations with this fic, for helping me ironing out the plot, and for being an all around awesome person. This story might not have happened without her support.
[ Part One] [ Part Two] [ Part Three] [ Part Four]
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Chapter 4 - This is NOT an Ark
Rodney was slowly climbing his way to the highest ground on the island up by that twin pair of trees he'd seen earlier. And the moving this time was much slower, he thought, as he threw a look back to see the canoe bobbing up and down on the waves as he pulled it along behind him. After calming himself down enough to start formulating a plan the first priority was gathering whatever supplies he did have. There were those boats tethered down on the beach and nothing else, really. He'd picked the one that looked the sturdiest and filled it with anything that he'd found in the other boats that looked useful. Again, that hadn't been of much use either, though he'd found two tattered blankets that were soaked through and added them to his watercraft before dragging it behind him.
It wasn't too difficult to pull along, the physics portion of his brain commented that this small bit of good fortune could be attributed to the lack of friction on water. No, for all the things that were wrong with this situation, there wasn't a need for rushing around. The water was rising steadily, but it still wasn't up to his waist and the walk up to the highest portion of the island shouldn't take him much longer.
He clamped his jaw shut as his teeth started chattering again. As soon as he managed to still that involuntary reaction the movement moved down into his shoulders where the muscles started contracting, shivering, in an effort to maintain whatever heat they had available.
He took a moment to readjust his one hand that was going a bit numb from where the scratchy rope was wrapped around it several times. The other hand was held in front of him for the inevitable times he would stumble over some unseen obstacle under the water and fall. After the second time he'd found that holding a hand out in front prepared to catch him minimized the bruises and cuts. He was pretty sure the latest memento from a fall was the bruising he could feel blossoming around his left eye.
He couldn't help but let his mind wander as he climbed. A part of him almost missed the bustle and rushing around against a deadline of some sort, whether it be finding a way to cloak the city before the wraith arrived or warding off some similar imminent disaster. Here and now, this was different. There was ocean in every direction, a small plot of stone beneath his feet, and nothing else. He was stuck here on this rock, at the mercy of the weather on this planet. There was no dazzling idea that he could use to manipulate technology into cooperating in such a way as to save him; the raw tools he worked with were back in Atlantis. He had a boat, a few soggy blankets, and somewhere he would have to find the patience to ride this out. He wouldn't be creating the miracle this time, he'd be praying for one. That alone left a solid sense of dread in his gut like a pile of smoldering cinders; he should be able to do something, anything, to better the chances of his survival. Yet the best he was going to be able to do was stay alive, stay out of the water, and stay as warm as he could and hope for Sheppard to come back for him. Who was he kidding? That was assuming that Sheppard and Teyla and Ronon were ok...he still had no idea where they might have gone, why they had left, or if they themselves were stranded somewhere in the open water.
He stopped as his hand hit something solid in front of him. Blinking his eyes a few times, he tried to force everything to come back into focus. Oh, it was one of the palm trees. He flexed his hands a few times experimentally, trying to encourage blood flow to restore feeling to them. He needed at least enough dexterity to get the rope tied around the tree. It took a few moments before he could get a full fist formed. Once he was capable of doing that, he unwrapped the boat's rope from his hand and instead began coiling it around the tree trunk and tying it off. He checked the knot to make sure it wouldn't come loose. That was one of the few things he could do to worsen his situation- float off into the ocean where his teammates might never find him.
He threw one leg over the edge of the boat, hopping a few times to build up height with each one before he attempted to jump over the side and into the canoe. The canoe rolled over, McKay's eyes stung as they were suddenly assaulted by darkness and salt water.
Suddenly disoriented he tried to take a sharp inhalation of air, only to choke on the water. He began flailing his arms around; his first priority was to get his head back above the water. It took him a moment but the blackness that he'd experienced underwater faded into the twilight of the world around him, a little light peaking in through the clouds. The boat was forgotten as he contracted his ribs, spitting out water with each hacking breath as he struggled to replace its presence in his lungs with air.
A few minutes passed in such a manner, him hunched over, steadying himself against the tree trunk as he gasped for air. When the sense of dizziness passed he stood upright and pushed a few bits of waterlogged hair out of his face with a shaking hand.
He pulled the rope hand over hand and drew the overturned watercraft toward him. Once it was close he grasped the edges and flipped it over. There was an inch or so of water in the bottom, but with nothing to bail it out with and more falling from the clouds anyways, there wasn't much point in trying to get rid of it. He pushed the canoe up against the tree this time, wedging it between the trunk and his own body and made another attempt to climb into the boat, collapsing into a heap on the hard wood surface as he managed to do it without flipping the boat this time. He raised himself up on weak arms, dragging himself to the front of the canoe where he laid down on his back. He draped one of the soggy blankets over his shivering body before settling back against the hull and closing his eyes as the water continued to run down his face in continuous streams. He tightened his grip a bit more around the edge of the blanket and took a deep sigh. All that was left now was to wait and hope.
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Two sensations, only two, were continuously pulsing through his body: coldness, and wetness. The combination was like an ice pick grating along his nerves every time his body decided to descend into another round of shivering.
Rodney had drawn his legs up against his chest and wrapped his arms around that to minimize his exposure to the elements. It had perhaps slowed the speed with which the world was becoming fuzzier. His extremities were little more than lumps of ice at this point. If they were coming they better make it quick.
All of a sudden there was a gust of wind followed closely by a thud at the other end of the boat that caught his attention. That end of the boat dipped a little lower in the water than it would've normally with the movements of the waves. "What the..." He forced his limbs to cooperate as he sat halfway up.
A burst of energy spurred more rapid movements as something moved on the other end of the boat. His muscles tensed, and he reached for the gun that usually hung from his belt at Sheppard's prodding...only to realize he'd left it in the jumper. He hadn't anticipated even getting out of the jumper, and when he had, he hadn't thought to bring it with him. It was supposed to be a quick run to the beach and back, not anything like the seemingly endless stay it had become.
He leaned forward a bit clumsily with his sluggish limbs doing little to steady him as something green scuttled across the deck toward him. Fish? Sea monster? Mutant bird of some sort? Atlantis and its creepy variety of wildlife had given his imagination plenty of material to work with.
He moved a bit closer, cautiously, the form had stopped moving. He raised an eyebrow. "Well you fail on the fright scale," he said as he examined the iguana-looking animal. It was about a foot and a half long and looking up at him. It looked harmless enough. He quickly snapped a hand down and wrapped it around its neck. The lizard's demeanor flipped into an aggressive state as it began scratching at him with all four legs and wrenching its neck back and forth, trying to wriggle out of McKay's grasp.
Rodney brought up his other hand to stabilize his grip, leaning out over the side of the boat and throwing it out into the water, watching it swim with just its head above the waves. Good riddance. He winced as he ran a hand along his arm. There were several red marks from where the iguana had gotten a good claw mark in, but nothing had broken skin. He rubbed at them softly as he settled back into his previously adopted position at the front of the boat and closed his eyes with a deep sigh.
He cracked one eye as another abnormal jerk interrupted the normal rocking motion of the boat. The iguana had hopped up and was sitting on the edge of the canoe, all four feet wrapped around the edge as it squatted there watching McKay warily.
"For god's sake, this is NOT an ark. Go away, shoo!" He waved his hand at the animal, hoping it would take the message to heart. He went to grab it again but the lizard flared out a set of red neck frills causing McKay to pause, startled.
"Well isn't that cute...I'm sure you're a hit with the ladies. Or maybe great at intimidating others of your kind. Might work a little better on me if I wasn't about ten times your size, but maybe that doesn't cross over into lizard comprehension. Points for effort, though," he said as he lowered a hand in to grab the creature again. This time it moved faster, snapping its head out at McKay and catching the space between Rodney's thumb and his other fingers in his mouth.
"Ouch!" Rodney drew his hand back, shaking it back and forth to try to get rid of the sting. The lizard cocked its head and hissed at him, whipping its tail back and forth, gently smacking it against the wooden shell of the boat.
"Look, this is my boat! Go find your own. I am not in the mood to share with the local wildlife."
The two stared at each other for a few beats. He sighed. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to let it stay. It wasn't like there was anyone out here to keep him company. What harm could a lizard do? It didn't seem to keen on being handled, but it didn't have teeth, he'd found that out when it had bit him. Probably a local herbivore of some sort, trying to make it through this mess just like he was. "Fine, stay if you feel so inclined. That end of the boat though, this here is my end."
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Chapter 5 - Cold-blooded Creatures
For all his raincoat was doing anymore Rodney may as well have gone swimming in the ocean. God, it was cold. He ran a shaky hand over his face to wipe away the rivets of water that were running into his eyes. Pulling his hand away, he looked at his fingers. If you looked at his hands you would've thought this situation had aged him a good twenty years, his hands were a mass of wrinkled skin pruned by the water.
Thunder cracked overhead and the tree branches above creaked under the strain of the buffeting wind. Rodney pushed himself up a bit from where he had gradually slid down into a reclined position, the hours taking their toll. He pinched the edge of the boat's edge between his thumb and remaining fingers to stabilize against the pitching of the white capping waves. Whoever thought the rocking of a boat was a good way to be lulled into unconsciousness should give it a second consideration. If they still weren't convinced he'd gladly give them a run in this canoe on the open seas.
A large wave crashed against the hull of the boat and McKay let out a startled gasp as his whole body was thrown against the side of the boat and the ocean spray doused him with a few more buckets' worth of water. He snarled and spit the salty liquid from his mouth. Rodney maneuvered himself into a sitting position again, reluctantly moving his arms away from where he had previously wrapped them around his torso to minimize the loss of body heat. He instead grabbed the edge of the boat, this time with one hand on each side of the boat to prevent his body from being thrown about like a ragdoll. The wood was saturated and slimy beneath his palms, slick with far too much water exposure.
With a squint McKay looked out into the ocean, letting own a quiet disappointed sigh. All the land was gone. This boat was now the only refuge he had against the storm. A man adrift, abandoned. Abandoned by his friends. He'd wracked his mind for any explanation that could justify their leaving him here. The first few hours were spent making excuses: the wind was too strong and they had needed to retreat to the mainland or risk barreling into the ocean. Maybe equipment malfunctions had occurred and he hadn't been there to set the jumper straight, again necessitating their departure.
And as the hours had slipped past, as he had lost the feeling in his toes, the doubt began creeping into his mind. That dread had slithered up through his limbs to curl into a knot in his stomach. They'd decided that waiting for him wasn't worth the risk of staying out here and cut their losses to head back to Atlantis. Or maybe McKay's sharp tongue had offended his team one time too many and they'd purposely left him here. He'd already played that scenario out in his head, the team sipping hot chocolate back in the mess, laughing and joking with one another, completely ignoring the empty seat at their table where he'd normally be sitting.
Another shudder went through him and he winced. There were a million things that could've caused his team leaving him. They had left him. Forget all of the reasons that might have caused it, the result was the same no matter what hypothetical scenario he ran through: they had left him out here alone in a storm that was likely to kill him. If his boat didn't get flipped by the waves which had gradually grown in height over the last few hours, the cold would get him, he'd finally slip into unconsciousness and that'd be the end of one Rodney McKay.
McKay noticed that there was some sort of lump under his left leg. His brow dipped downward in contemplation as he shifted his leg over to see what was causing the disturbance. Moving it over, he saw a stationary green body. His mouth curved into a frown as he gently picked it up wondering if he would be following the same path toward his own demise. He set the iguana on his lap, running a light finger over the ridges along its spine. The animal's neck was twisted at a strange angle and its limbs rested motionless against Rodney's own thighs. The animal might have been hostile before, but it was at least another living thing to ride out the storm with. He really was alone now.
Rodney felt the lizard's chest gave a weak heave and he immediately stopped stroking it and brought it up closer to his face to examine it, squinting through the rain to do so. The chest was barely moving, but it wasn't dormant. The animal wasn't a corpse yet. He puzzled at it for a moment, watching the iguana hang limply in his grasp.
"Cold. It's cold," he muttered to himself in thought, "And you're a cold-blooded reptile." That could explain why the feral animal, which had been so hostile earlier, had curled up against Rodney. McKay might not have much heat left, but it was more than this reptile had possessed. Out of desperation, it had ignored its desire to avoid Rodney and instead settled in against him to maintain body heat, even the tiny bit Rodney's chilled body could offer might just be enough to survive.
He sat up a bit straighter and unzipped the top half of his jacket, wincing as the cold wind stung his neck. He slid the iguana into the jacket on top of his flack vest, and zipped it back over the top, leaving just its head peaking out below his own chin. Maybe being inside his jacket might warm it back up. He wrapped his arms across his chest, hunkered down into the boat to escape the wind, and resumed his vigil.
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Zelenka rushed back into his lab, his attention so focused on his data pad that he was abruptly brought to a halt as he collided with Sheppard. He rebounded off the colonel, one leg getting caught on the other as he fell backward and the data pad went flying from his grip. Disregarding preparing himself for an impact with the ground, he stretched both arms out in an attempt to snatch the data pad out of the air on its descent. Sheppard prevented the scientist from falling all the way by catching one of the man's arms and pulling him back up to his feet with a grunt. Zelenka brushed him off, his gaze locked onto his data pad as it skidded across the ground.
"You alright Zelenka?"
"I'm fine! Let go please. I need to retrieve my data pad," he said in an impatient tone.
Sheppard shrugged and let the man go. Zelenka was scooping his device off the ground a second later, holding it out as he tapped out several sequences on the screen.
The Colonel stepped in inquiry toward Zelenka who was half turned away, "It's ok, right? They make those things extra sturdy. At least I think they do, I mean, McKay's has survived several situations I thought would've ended one of those things."
Zelenka didn't meet his gaze or stop typing, "Give me a moment, Colonel. I was working on data that I need to make sure wasn't disrupted."
Sheppard nodded even though the scientist wasn't looking to see it. He contented himself for a few moments with looking around the lab. The lab was a lot busier than it normally was with almost every desk station occupied with one of McKay's blue shirts. Zelenka must have called in every available body to work on this one, or else they had simply wandered in on their own after hearing the news. One creative scientist that must've missed out on claiming one of the stations had adapted an equipment cart into temporary desk space. He sat perched on a stool hunched over his computer at the improvised work station.
The colonel sighed, "Zelenka, I know you told me not to come down here and bother you but it's been several hours. Do you have anything for me?"
Zelenka blinked once and looked up, his hand finally stilling its rapid movements across the data pad as he turned his attention to the conversation, "Yes, actually. I think I might have figured out how to get Rodney."
Sheppard immediately shed his relaxed posture, now all business, "You have? Why didn't you call me?"
"I wanted to be sure that this would work. And I was heading back to my station to retrieve my radio. If it wasn't you calling every five minutes to check in it was Elizabeth or Carson or any other of a number of people. I left it there so I could work without being disturbed."
"Ok, well I'm here. Come on, Zelenka. What've we got," Sheppard asked, taking another step forward.
Zelenka unconsciously took a step back in response, not comfortable with someone that close to him, especially considering the sheer tension the colonel was radiating. "We can't get the gate to dial back to that planet. I've had two teams working exclusively on that-"
"I thought you said you had a solution for this...all I'm hearing is that you still haven't gotten over the same roadblock."
Radek rolled his eyes, "I was about to get to that part before you interrupted me. I've been slogging through the database, working on that back-up plan you wanted. I've found one address for a planet that is within jumper-flying distance of the planet where Rodney is."
"Ok, this could work. Did you find any more information on it in the database?"
The scientist shrugged, "It's a desert planet, that's all I have for you."
Sheppard gave a terse nod, "I can work with this. I'll get my team up the gate room. Meet me up there in ten minutes to dial through." Without giving the scientist a chance to respond he was jogging off. Zelenka gave a slight shake of his head and a slight smirk as he saw the colonel tapping his radio and speaking in a fast, exciting voice. They'd find Rodney and bring him home. Sheppard was already organizing his team before he had even reached the hallway attached to the lab, he'd bring him home.
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Chapter 6 - That Cold Feeling
There was silence in the jumper as they proceeded toward the planet. It was a change from the initial excitement that initially had permeated the atmosphere inside the jumper. They'd headed through the gate to a desert landscape and Sheppard had immediately angled their flight trajectory upwards toward the vacuum of space.
He'd thrown a glance over his shoulder once or twice to see Teyla and Ronon looking out of the windows as the landscape shrunk below, giving way to the grey mist of clouds and eventually the blackness of space interspersed occasionally with small flecks of light in the distance, the light of stars reflected across vast distances. He couldn't help but smirk at Carson who kept his gaze purposefully pointed at the floor of the jumper like it was the most interesting thing around to ponder. That or he just didn't want to think about the fact that he was travelling in an alien space ship. The doc really did need to loosen up a bit and learn to really appreciate the small miracles and adventures they shared every day. A bit of enjoyment and amazement went a long way toward quelling the knot in his stomach over the absence of his friend.
But after that initial burst of excitement everything had fallen into an easy pace. He flew the jumper, Teyla appeared to be meditating. Ronon sat silently, watching Carson and the Colonel. Occasionally the big man sighed out of boredom or checked his gun for the sixth or seventh time. Beckett had occupied the first part of the trip by arranging his medical supplies in the order he thought they might be needed, and then he too had been resigned to the waiting game. His eyes were closed at the moment, arms crossed over his chest. Sheppard wasn't quite sure whether he was simply deep in thought or he might have genuinely drifted off. And so they had continued on for a time, a quiet and subdued mood within the walls of the jumper veiling what one otherwise would know to be an uneasy peace. The reason they were out there, to rescue a teammate; underneath the apparent calm this unspoken thought was on everyone's mind.
A few hours later it was eventually Sheppard who broke the silence, "Hey guys, we're about to break atmosphere. I'm not sure how smooth the ride is going to be with the storm and all. Might want to grab on to something."
There was a rustling of movement in the back. Ronon grunted in response to Sheppard's statement and checked his gun in his holster one more time. Teyla opened her eyes and stretched each stiff limb. When Beckett didn't respond Ronon gave him a soft bump in the ribs and murmured something too low for Sheppard to hear. But it apparently worked; Carson woke up and started moving around.
As for Sheppard himself, he kept his attention glued to the scene outside the jumper's windshield. Breaking atmosphere was the most risky part of any jumper flight and it required all of his attention. He stabilized his hands against the bumpy motions of the ship and its controls as they began their descent toward the planet's surface.
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Sheppard divided his attention between the flight path ahead and the display screen telling him where to navigate toward the gate. Or where the gate would be if it weren't underwater. From what they'd seen so far outside the jumper's window, the monsoon showed no sign of abating anytime soon. If Sheppard had to guess, he would say that the only direction the water levels had gone were probably up.
And then a blip appeared on his screen, a life sign, a signal. "Guys! I have Rodney's sub-q transmitter. He's alive," he shouted back over his shoulder.
There were a few relieved sighs and Sheppard increased the speed of the jumper, causing his teammates to brace themselves against the sudden change in motion. They'd do this just fine. The next ten minutes were tense. Sheppard kept looking at the screen, almost worried that the sign might blip out, that Rodney would disappear at the moment they were preparing to get him back. But they closed the distance quickly and the colonel began decelerating the jumper until they came to a halt over the location where the gate should have stood, where Rodney should be.
Sheppard dropped the hatch on the back of the jumper, the torrential downpour immediately beginning to soak the interior of the jumper near the entrance. Carson was on his feet, shielding his face against the wind with one hand as he tried to watch look for any sign of his friend out in the monsoon.
Ronon didn't wait for the jumper to stop all the way; he jumped off the back platform and into the water with a grunt before anyone had a chance to protest. The water came up to his chest and he plodded toward the boat which was bobbing near the tree. With his knife, he slashed through the rope anchoring it to the trunk and began pulling it back toward the jumper. Teyla and Beckett positioned themselves at the entrance. They held the boat steady as Ronon hauled himself back up into the jumper, giving a shake or two to shed some of the water weight his clothes had taken on before bending down and pulling their scientist's limp form from the waterlogged canoe.
As he turned and set the man down gently on the blanket that Carson had already set out he heard the jumper door shutting behind him. After depositing Rodney on the floor of the jumper he backed off to the side to let the doctor in to evaluate the man.
"Teyla, lass, I've gone through a bit of hypothermia treatment with you when you wanted to learn about field medicine. Feel up to helping me out with Rodney here." he asked as he began assessing the man.
"Of course, doctor," she said as she moved up beside him, waiting for his instruction before jumping in to assist.
Carson handed her an IV to hang from the webbing that sat above the benches to hold most of their supplies. In the meantime he began by checking for any signs of trauma that McKay might have obtained during his time on the planet that could explain his unconsciousness. Not finding any, he began cutting through the raincoat starting at the neck. He paused as he saw something green between the slit he had begun to make in the rain coat. He reached a gloved hand and drew something out of the jacket," What the..."
Teyla and Ronon's expression mirrored his own. Beckett held the reptile up in the light. It appeared to be breathing although it wasn't moving much...he held it out to Ronon, "Can you do something with this Ronon?"
He raised an eyebrow at the strange request but took it out of the physician's hands, "What do you want me to do with it? A little late to throw him back," Ronon muttered as eyed the closed hatch door.
Beckett shrugged although he kept his gaze locked on his patient, He continued cutting off the rain jacket and then began stripping the tactical vest off, "Just put it in a corner or something. Let me worry about Rodney here for a spell."
Sheppard kept an ear cocked to the conversation, "What is it?"
"A lizard of some sort seems to have taken residence in Rodney's jacket."
"I could kill it I suppose," Ronon added, fingering his gun with his empty hand, "It's a pest, right?"
"Let's not be getting trigger happy. It looks harmless enough," Beckett threw back at him. He might not want to play veterinarian for the critter, but that didn't mean it needed to be exterminated. As for the Satedan, he sometimes had to just shake his head and wonder whether Ronon didn't consider it a successful mission unless he got to fire his weapon at least once.
Ronon gave a resigned grunt but deposited the lizard on the bench and returned to sit on the ground next to Teyla and Carson as they continued to work. They'd gotten him stripped down to his boxers and toweled off in a matter of moments. Beckett then pulled a set of rolled up sweats from his bag and shook them out before throwing the pants to Ronon, "Alright lad, don't just be sitting there. Help me get these on Rodney. We could use a little extra muscle. Dressing an unconscious Rodney is a bit like trying to dress a sack of potatoes. Not the most graceful process."
Ronon gripped a corner of the pants that had just been deposited in his lap and moved over to help, filling in a spot next to the scientist as Carson moved aside to make room for him. Between the three of them they soon had Rodney in the dry clothing and Beckett then proceeded to wrap him in several more blankets.
Beckett sat back on his heels to survey the man. He still hadn't stirred. The most immediate concern taken care of- getting McKay warm and dry- he could slow down and begin a more thorough set of diagnostics. First thing he did was put a thermometer in the scientist's ear and set Teyla to holding it until the reading was finished registering.
He paused for a moment to watch Ronon nod in approval before the big man withdrew to the other side of the jumper, still on the ground and near enough to jump in if his presence was needed again. Beckett made eye contact with him and gave him a slight appreciative nod as he drew his penlight from his medical pack. Ronon returned the nod and Beckett did have to marvel for a moment that for such a quiet man, he was entirely receptive. He knew the exact moment when his presence was hindering instead of helping and had withdrawn without a single comment. Beckett felt a slight swell of pride for a moment. Ronon considered Rodney a friend and a teammate, one of the few people he had made a connection with since coming to the city. The soldier was entirely protective of his friends and it spoke volumes that Ronon had moved away to leave the man in Beckett's care as quickly as he had.
There was a beep of a thermometer and Carson shook his head and turned his attention back to the man lying before him. He let out a quiet, disapproving noise as Teyla handed him the thermometer. Rodney's core temperature was entirely too low at ninety-five degrees. That was a solid bout of hypothermia.
He put the thermometer aside and pulled back an eyelid to check his friend's pupil reactions. The sudden burst of light seemed to animate the man; he let out a low hiss and turned his head to the side to move it out of the line of the flashlight's beam. "Rodney, you with us lad?"
Rodney vaguely heard a voice calling out to him, but it was far away, muffled somehow. Like he was floating and someone was disturbing the peace and quiet. Like the voice was coming through a layer of water. Water. At that thought he began struggling. The boat had flipped and he was finally drowning, hallucinating his friends' presence in his final moments.
He tried to flail his limbs, to force his way to the surface and get some desperately needed air. His lungs were burning. A panic gripped him as he realized something was preventing him from moving his limbs, water? That watery grave and its comforting coffin rocking him gently to rest at the bottom of an ocean on an alien world. He arched his back and pushed harder against the restrictive bonds, this wasn't the way it was going to end!
Beckett watched the sheer terror in his patient's eyes and tried to calm him down with soft words. But his voice cut out mid-sentence when he realized the lad wasn't breathing. "Damn it, Teyla lass. Fetch me the oxygen if you could?"
He began stripping the blankets to either side to reveal the man's torso. The minute he had done so, though, Rodney's arms shot up to start resisting, "Ronon, can you hold him? He's not breathing; I need to treat this now!"
"Beckett, what's going on? Is Rodney ok," Sheppard anxiously asked from the front. Carson let the question hang in the air, too busy at the moment to take the time to ease the Colonel's fears.
Beckett swore he didn't even see Ronon move; a moment later the Satedan was by the scientist's side and holding his arms firmly against the metal floor. Beckett folded his hand into a fist and brought it down on Rodney's sternum with all of his weight behind the blow. McKay let out a startled breath and began rapidly exhaling and inhaling as his lungs gasped for air, "There we go lad. That's better. Much better."
He put a gentle hand on Ronon's tight grip and motioned for him to let go. He did so, but didn't withdraw this time, content to crouch where he was in case he was needed again.
Beckett kept his eyes glued to the scientist, watching his chest rapidly rise and sink as he continued to breathe in and out deeply. All of a sudden the man's hands twitched and contracted into fists and his eyes darted around the jumper until they froze on Carson's gaze, "Carson," he wheezed.
"Aye lad. Gave us a fine fright there you did. You with us now?"
"I-I think...Where are we?"
"In a jumper headed back to Atlantis to get you looked after. How are you feeling?"
"Tired. C-cold," he added weakly as a series of shivers ran through his limbs.
Beckett immediately began re-bundling the man in the wool blankets he had hastily discarded in his effort to restore his patient's breathing. He paused to examine his work, only the scientist's head peaked out above the mass of blankets, "There, that should start to warm you up."
"I can't move...feel like I'm in a cocoon."
"Aye, at least it's a warm one. Anything else bothering you lad?" the Scottish physician added a bit apprehensively.
The scientist shook his head back and forth before letting it drop back against the ground. He saw the man's eyelids start to sink as he lost the battle against his body's desire to sleep. Carson sighed. Really, the scientist should be kept awake, but he hadn't thought to bring the stimulants that would do the job. He'd just have to keep a very close watch on him for any signs of shock.
"Beckett! Is Rodney ok?!?" Sheppard shouted back again.
"Aye, he'll be ok once we get him back to Atlantis."
There was a relieved exhalation from the colonel, "Can you come up and take the controls so I can see for myself? I promise it pretty much flies itself, we just need someone with the gene in the command seat."
"Sorry John, I need to stay back here and keep an eye on Rodney."
"Come on Carson! Two minutes. He can't go south that fast....Please, I haven't seen him since I lost him on my watch," he finished with a tinge of guilt in his voice.
Beckett motioned for Ronon to move aside and he himself backed off a few steps to the side, "Then go ahead and look," he spoke to Sheppard.
Sheppard kept his hands on the controls but turned as far as he could without abandoning them. He craned his neck the rest of the way to be able to see. He inhaled sharply and shook his head, "He looks terrible."
"Aye, but he's alive and was up and talking for a minute there."
"Please, can I just sit with him for a minute?"
Beckett bit his lip but spoke firmly, "Colonel, you do the piloting, let me do the doctoring. You can visit him when we get back to the city and I get him settled."
John opened his mouth for a rebuttal but thought better of it and turned back to the navigation console. They were still a good few hours out from the city. He didn't want to wait that long, but he supposed he could do it. Rodney was a few feet away instead of the vast distance that had hung between them during this debacle. "Fine. Watch over him Carson," he added softly.
Beckett didn't give a verbal response but he nodded again as he settled the oxygen mask over Rodney's nose and mouth. He'd give the man no less than his best.
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Continued in Part Three