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licklesoxyTitle: To Catch, Eventually
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Carson Beckett
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Copyright: Brad Wright, Robert C. Cooper
Summary: There are quite a few things Rodney knows about John. Though, it seems one of these facts he's acquired about his friend may be slightly wrong, and, if Rodney doesn't act immediately, it could result in the end of John's life.
To Catch, Eventually
Rodney really wasn't very good at gaining knowledge about people. Strangers were a nightmare, and he avoided them as much as possible. Even knowing their names wasn't truly required, wasn't important. If need be, he'd work with them, but that was where all interaction ended.
Friends were a different matter, but only slightly. Naming favourite foods, colours, numbers and so on weren't exactly Rodney's best skills, though there were some random facts he could manage to gain about certain friends over the years. For instance, he knew that Teyla preferred meditating late at night when it was quiet, and he was able to name every food that Ronon didn't like the taste of. Although, to be fair, the latter was fewer than the fingers on both his hands, so that wasn't really saying much.
Rodney did know quite a fair amount about Carson, and he considered the doctor to be one of his closest friends. They'd known each other for a very long time, had been through a lot, and enjoyed each others' company. Awkward silences just didn't happen between them, unlike the many instances of uncomfortable moments he'd spent around Teyla, Ronon, and even Radek and Elizabeth at times.
Though it was an extremely close call between Carson and John, Rodney had to admit that, overall, John was his best friend. Meeting for the first time hadn't caused John to recoil in disgust at Rodney's attitude, and it hadn't made Rodney fidget in irritation at John's carefree persona. Somehow, in some way, they'd clicked instantly, and Rodney had been asked to join the lead team of Atlantis.
Rodney knew what John's favourite bands and movies were, had an incline as to the sports he liked to play, and, amazingly, Rodney had found out that they shared a lot of common interests. It didn't hurt that the Lieutenant Colonel also gave as good as he got when in conversation. Banter was something Rodney discovered he cherished greatly, and with John it came terribly easy.
Thinking it through, Rodney understood his own shock as he stared at the vast swell of water below, because he was pretty certain that John could swim. He hadn't actually witnessed John in deep enough water, but for some reason the thought hadn't occurred to him that maybe John had never truly learnt any technique that would stop him from drowning if thrown in water that reached down to twenty feet or more.
It seemed Rodney's initial assumption wasn't correct, though, considering John had only surfaced once, panic flitting across his features, before he'd slipped back under the water. That had happened over a minute ago, at least.
Fear filling him, Rodney's eyes traced the layout of the water rapidly, searching for any sign that his friend was coming back up for air. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Teyla and Ronon wouldn't be able to help in this situation. Teyla had been knocked out, and Ronon was currently the one he could hear behind him, shouting out curses and threats at the people who'd tied him up.
That left only one option: Rodney had to go in the water, else they'd be dragging a corpse back through the Stargate.
The second the idea popped into his head, the moment the solution made itself known, Rodney went into action. Not bothering to remove his shoes, his jacket or vest, he let his legs drive him forwards, towards the edge of the solid ground underneath his feet. Ronon's shouts went unnoticed, as did the sound of his own heart beating erratically in his chest. It was now or never, because if he hesitated now, he understood that he'd never gain the courage to jump in the lake.
Eyes closing instinctually, Rodney sucked in a deep breath, before lifting his leg to take the final step that would have him stumbling into the cold depths of liquid. Immediately, as his body was engulfed in a freezing layer, Rodney's muscles tensed and stiffened. The water was bitterly cold, and his physical self cried out to be removed from it instantly. Uncomfortable was not a feeling Rodney liked to subject himself to, yet it was the pain on his skin that was drawing more attention right at that moment.
Opening his eyes once again, blinking against the pressure put against them when they were met with liquid rather than air, Rodney momentarily forgot the reason for doing this. Both his mind and his body wanted him to scramble back to the surface, to climb back onto the dry ground. But something stopped him. Whatever had caused him to jump into this hell hole was important.
Gazing around at the blackness for a couple of seconds, trying to gather his thoughts, Rodney tried to relax. His arms seemed to be floating, his limbs felt light and agile. Bringing a hand up to his nose, he pinched it quickly to ease the discomfort; he'd always had to use a nose plug when swimming, because he loathed having water up his nostrils. Moving his arm back to his side, he watched as a couple of tiny bubbles released from the creases in his clothes. They moved quickly, freely, and he longed to follow them.
Shaking his head, Rodney glanced down. Too deep, the water gave nothing away, no signs as to what lay further below in it. It was too dark.
Lips parting slightly, a frown forming on his features, Rodney felt a wave of dread fill him as he remembered what he was here to do. At once, without reluctance, he pushed the top half of his body around and down, the resulting movement making his legs kick out above him. When they connected with something hard, Rodney panicked, until his rational mind told him that it was just the wall of earth that would undoubtedly be close, as he hadn't taken that much of a leap to get far away from the ground.
Using it to his advantage, Rodney pushed against the solid wall, the force giving him enough momentum to continue on his quest to get as far from the surface of the water as possible. Though all he could see was a blurry blackness, his confidence didn't falter as he kicked his feet and pushed onwards, further into the murky death trap.
It seemed like hours, days even, as he reached out blindly with his hands, searching for any indication that John's body was close. In reality, mere seconds had passed before the tip of his finger touched some sort of material that appeared foreign in the current surroundings. Trying to focus his vision, Rodney's relief upon making out a silhouette he recognised was immense.
As he swam closer, enough to grab onto the man's shoulder, Rodney curled his fingers into the fabric of John's jacket and used it to heave himself lower until he was directly in front of him. When he caught sight of John's face, the expression he was met with made Rodney's blood run cold.
John was absolutely terrified. His mouth was open, forming words, but no sound was coming out. Rodney assumed he wouldn't have heard anything anyway, regardless of whether John was coherent enough to actually make noise.
Rodney knew he hadn't connected all the dots, yet. There was something more to this. John wasn't in a state of hysteria because of his own incompetence with swimming. No, that wasn't it at all. John had been under for far too long, and he'd obviously started breathing in water, so of course he was concerned and panicked. But why had John fallen so deep in the first place?
Turning his attention away from the man, Rodney darted his gaze to and fro, looking for any possible reason for John's descent. And then he saw it.
The metal was thick, heavy, and, judging from the angle, the foot that was currently stuck within its bars was broken. Whether it was from the impact of landing in the water, or something else, Rodney didn't know, nor did he particularly care. All that mattered right now was figuring out a way to get John's foot dislodged from the cause of all this mess.
He had no knife on him and, even if he did, Rodney understood that any attempt to cut through the metal would be futile. That left him in a predicament. Obviously, he couldn't move John up to the surface, not by himself. Also, he didn't know if wiggling the stupid thing would make it release its hold. That meant he'd have to manoeuvre John's foot instead, causing his friend even more pain, and probably causing more damage.
It's better than dying.
As soon as the thought rushed through his mind, Rodney cursed himself for not moving into action sooner. If he'd dived in to help John immediately, could this situation have been avoided? Probably not, but that didn't matter, because he'd never know.
Reaching forwards with his other hand, Rodney grabbed the bottom of John's jacket so he could pull himself closer to the metal. The water was unforgiving, and the cold that had previously made him want to escape this horrible place turned into an icy ache, burning his flesh as he attempted to move his fingers. They had gone numb quite a while ago, but it seemed his skin still wanted to let him acknowledge the pain.
Biting back the cry of hurt as he finally managed to touch the metal, Rodney cringed in sympathy. This was going to be painful. Dragging his body closer so he could get a better look, Rodney was only too thankful that his vision had adjusted enough to the darkness surrounding him. His eyes were probably bloodshot, his skin red raw from the freezing temperature, but his determination was strong. His friend needed him, in a physical sense rather than mental, in a different way to the usual need, but that wouldn't stop Rodney being of help. He could be physically useful, he could. His mind wasn't the only instrument he had at hand to get his friends out of bad circumstances.
Taking in the image in front of him, Rodney didn't hesitate as he moved his hands to clutch at John's foot. Fiddling with the laces, the movement slow and exhausting, he untied the boot and used all of his energy, or what little was left of it, to remove it from John's wounded foot. The jerk as he did this was expected, though the weakness to it was not. Eyes going wide as he let the boot slip from his grip, Rodney snapped his attention back to John's face. Panic rising into him, Rodney had to bite back the worry. It would do no good to be distracted by concern now.
John was losing consciousness, yes, but that was normal. Of course he was unable to stay awake. The man was drowning, for goodness sake.
Gritting his teeth together, tearing his gaze away from John's features, Rodney eyed the metal with trepidation and fury. Now that the boot was off, he could see that John's foot wouldn't need turning at all, as it would easily slip out of the bars with little effort. That didn't stop Rodney's anger. The pathetic object that had caused his friend to sink down so far could very well be the thing that finally killed John, and it made Rodney want to scream in outrage. A stupid piece of metal had no right to cause this much pain. It wasn't right.
Filing away those thoughts to the back of his mind, Rodney closed his eyes for a second. Hatred would do nothing to help get John to safety. More trying matters needed his focus right now. Opening his eyes, Rodney brought his arms up, bending his elbows as he did so to get as much force as he could. Sloppy and getting harder by the second, his movements made Rodney want to collapse in exhaustion. Weariness was not a good thing to have, not right now.
Straining his muscles, fighting the urge to give up, Rodney thrust his hands out, letting them slam against the metal. The impact shoved the metal away relatively easy, for which Rodney was grateful. Now all he had to do was get John back up to the surface, and they'd be fine.
Easier said than done.
It was the truth, and Rodney understood that. He was already too tired, had spent too much energy. If luck was on his side he'd be able to get himself back to much needed air, but that was it. There was no way in hell he'd have the strength to drag an unconscious man back up with him.
Torn, confused and distraught, Rodney felt tears start to well up in his eyes. This was hopeless. He'd failed his friend.
Suddenly, without warning, another shape came into view. Startled yet unable to jerk backwards due to lack of energy, Rodney began trembling as another silhouette started towards them. Large and fast, it looked menacing as it swam lower, heading right in their direction. Maybe he didn't have to make the decision to leave John after all. Maybe they were both going to die in the end anyway.
Blinking back the terror, limbs shaking, Rodney watched with mild curiosity as the silhouette began transforming into a familiar outline. As it drew closer, it moulded into the form of a man, one he actually recognised.
It was Ronon.
-o-
The trip back to the Stargate was a complete blur in his memory. He remembered seeing a beautiful image in the water, one that had come to the rescue. He remembered taking his first breath in what had felt like hours. He remembered cries and shouts as Teyla and Ronon had tried to revive John, screams and wails from the men who had captured them as they were killed and slaughtered. He remembered coming through the Stargate, feeling a rush of relief upon seeing the city he had come to call home.
But that had all happened so fast, too quickly for him to get anything more from the memories other than flashes of dying men and the concerned faces of his friends.
Before he could even come to terms with everything that had happened, Rodney had found himself in the infirmary, a warm blanket placed over his body, a soft pillow under his head, and the calm voice of Carson speaking comforts as he treated him.
Closing his eyes against the rush of emotions that came spiralling into him, Rodney drew in a deep breath. Drawing it back out slowly in the attempt to calm his nerves, hoping that it would clear his bewilderment, Rodney opened his eyes and gazed into the worried face of a man whose presence he cherished quite a lot as of late.
"Carson?"
The doctor gave a small smile. "It's good to see you awake, Rodney."
This only added to the confused haze in Rodney's mind. "Awake?"
"Aye. You've been asleep for almost sixteen hours. That swim really took it out of you."
At once all of his memories returned. Letting out a tiny, audible gasp, Rodney felt his nerves set alight as he bolted upright in the bed, ignoring it when the covers slipped into a crumpled mess over his legs. Back protesting against the move, a sharp pain jolted down his neck, making Rodney yelp in surprise.
A gentle, yet firm hand was on his shoulder immediately, inflicting a little force to try and get him to lie back down. Words met his ears, sentences he'd heard many times flowed from Carson's lips, but Rodney didn't pay them any heed.
"Where's Sheppard?"
Everything else seemed to pale in comparison when the question came out. He could recall almost every detail, now, of what had happened on that planet, save for one thing. Had John survived or not? Did Ronon or Teyla get him breathing again? What if he'd swallowed too much water?
Horror seeping into his thoughts, Rodney's face paled considerably as the notion that John hadn't gotten out alive flowed into him. Why could he remember everything except the fate of his friend? Almost certainly that meant his mind had rejected the truth, shut down and closed off the information, because it was something he didn't want to acknowledge. It was the only explanation, the only thing that made sense.
"Right here, Rodney."
Voice hoarse, tone quiet and relaxed, the words brought Rodney out of his reverie instantly. Head snapping around to stare at the man who had spoken, Rodney couldn't stop the hitch of his breath, couldn't help but show his shock and joy upon seeing John sitting in the bed beside him, a weak smile lighting up his features.
John looked tired, worn down. Eyes flickering to his foot for an instance confirmed what Rodney had suspected. It had indeed been broken, but was now secured and bandaged, thanks to Carson. Even though he looked like shit, Rodney was glad to see him. Hurt but alive, the latter part was the important fact.
"Y- You're okay."
Rodney found that the words came out stuttered, alarmed in a disbelieving way.
John's smile grew. "Yeah, because of you. Thanks, Rodney." It was nothing more than a whisper, but the words were sincere and honest.
Rodney replied with his own smile. It was all he could do to show his happiness. He hadn't failed after all. He'd managed to save his friend, managed to get him loose so he could be pulled out of the water. He had saved his best friend. As far as his accomplishments went, Rodney knew for a fact that it would take some doing to outdo that one, if it was possible to surpass it, in any case, which he believed to be unlikely.
-o-
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Characters: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Carson Beckett
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Copyright: Brad Wright, Robert C. Cooper
Summary: There are quite a few things Rodney knows about John. Though, it seems one of these facts he's acquired about his friend may be slightly wrong, and, if Rodney doesn't act immediately, it could result in the end of John's life.
Rodney really wasn't very good at gaining knowledge about people. Strangers were a nightmare, and he avoided them as much as possible. Even knowing their names wasn't truly required, wasn't important. If need be, he'd work with them, but that was where all interaction ended.
Friends were a different matter, but only slightly. Naming favourite foods, colours, numbers and so on weren't exactly Rodney's best skills, though there were some random facts he could manage to gain about certain friends over the years. For instance, he knew that Teyla preferred meditating late at night when it was quiet, and he was able to name every food that Ronon didn't like the taste of. Although, to be fair, the latter was fewer than the fingers on both his hands, so that wasn't really saying much.
Rodney did know quite a fair amount about Carson, and he considered the doctor to be one of his closest friends. They'd known each other for a very long time, had been through a lot, and enjoyed each others' company. Awkward silences just didn't happen between them, unlike the many instances of uncomfortable moments he'd spent around Teyla, Ronon, and even Radek and Elizabeth at times.
Though it was an extremely close call between Carson and John, Rodney had to admit that, overall, John was his best friend. Meeting for the first time hadn't caused John to recoil in disgust at Rodney's attitude, and it hadn't made Rodney fidget in irritation at John's carefree persona. Somehow, in some way, they'd clicked instantly, and Rodney had been asked to join the lead team of Atlantis.
Rodney knew what John's favourite bands and movies were, had an incline as to the sports he liked to play, and, amazingly, Rodney had found out that they shared a lot of common interests. It didn't hurt that the Lieutenant Colonel also gave as good as he got when in conversation. Banter was something Rodney discovered he cherished greatly, and with John it came terribly easy.
Thinking it through, Rodney understood his own shock as he stared at the vast swell of water below, because he was pretty certain that John could swim. He hadn't actually witnessed John in deep enough water, but for some reason the thought hadn't occurred to him that maybe John had never truly learnt any technique that would stop him from drowning if thrown in water that reached down to twenty feet or more.
It seemed Rodney's initial assumption wasn't correct, though, considering John had only surfaced once, panic flitting across his features, before he'd slipped back under the water. That had happened over a minute ago, at least.
Fear filling him, Rodney's eyes traced the layout of the water rapidly, searching for any sign that his friend was coming back up for air. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Teyla and Ronon wouldn't be able to help in this situation. Teyla had been knocked out, and Ronon was currently the one he could hear behind him, shouting out curses and threats at the people who'd tied him up.
That left only one option: Rodney had to go in the water, else they'd be dragging a corpse back through the Stargate.
The second the idea popped into his head, the moment the solution made itself known, Rodney went into action. Not bothering to remove his shoes, his jacket or vest, he let his legs drive him forwards, towards the edge of the solid ground underneath his feet. Ronon's shouts went unnoticed, as did the sound of his own heart beating erratically in his chest. It was now or never, because if he hesitated now, he understood that he'd never gain the courage to jump in the lake.
Eyes closing instinctually, Rodney sucked in a deep breath, before lifting his leg to take the final step that would have him stumbling into the cold depths of liquid. Immediately, as his body was engulfed in a freezing layer, Rodney's muscles tensed and stiffened. The water was bitterly cold, and his physical self cried out to be removed from it instantly. Uncomfortable was not a feeling Rodney liked to subject himself to, yet it was the pain on his skin that was drawing more attention right at that moment.
Opening his eyes once again, blinking against the pressure put against them when they were met with liquid rather than air, Rodney momentarily forgot the reason for doing this. Both his mind and his body wanted him to scramble back to the surface, to climb back onto the dry ground. But something stopped him. Whatever had caused him to jump into this hell hole was important.
Gazing around at the blackness for a couple of seconds, trying to gather his thoughts, Rodney tried to relax. His arms seemed to be floating, his limbs felt light and agile. Bringing a hand up to his nose, he pinched it quickly to ease the discomfort; he'd always had to use a nose plug when swimming, because he loathed having water up his nostrils. Moving his arm back to his side, he watched as a couple of tiny bubbles released from the creases in his clothes. They moved quickly, freely, and he longed to follow them.
Shaking his head, Rodney glanced down. Too deep, the water gave nothing away, no signs as to what lay further below in it. It was too dark.
Lips parting slightly, a frown forming on his features, Rodney felt a wave of dread fill him as he remembered what he was here to do. At once, without reluctance, he pushed the top half of his body around and down, the resulting movement making his legs kick out above him. When they connected with something hard, Rodney panicked, until his rational mind told him that it was just the wall of earth that would undoubtedly be close, as he hadn't taken that much of a leap to get far away from the ground.
Using it to his advantage, Rodney pushed against the solid wall, the force giving him enough momentum to continue on his quest to get as far from the surface of the water as possible. Though all he could see was a blurry blackness, his confidence didn't falter as he kicked his feet and pushed onwards, further into the murky death trap.
It seemed like hours, days even, as he reached out blindly with his hands, searching for any indication that John's body was close. In reality, mere seconds had passed before the tip of his finger touched some sort of material that appeared foreign in the current surroundings. Trying to focus his vision, Rodney's relief upon making out a silhouette he recognised was immense.
As he swam closer, enough to grab onto the man's shoulder, Rodney curled his fingers into the fabric of John's jacket and used it to heave himself lower until he was directly in front of him. When he caught sight of John's face, the expression he was met with made Rodney's blood run cold.
John was absolutely terrified. His mouth was open, forming words, but no sound was coming out. Rodney assumed he wouldn't have heard anything anyway, regardless of whether John was coherent enough to actually make noise.
Rodney knew he hadn't connected all the dots, yet. There was something more to this. John wasn't in a state of hysteria because of his own incompetence with swimming. No, that wasn't it at all. John had been under for far too long, and he'd obviously started breathing in water, so of course he was concerned and panicked. But why had John fallen so deep in the first place?
Turning his attention away from the man, Rodney darted his gaze to and fro, looking for any possible reason for John's descent. And then he saw it.
The metal was thick, heavy, and, judging from the angle, the foot that was currently stuck within its bars was broken. Whether it was from the impact of landing in the water, or something else, Rodney didn't know, nor did he particularly care. All that mattered right now was figuring out a way to get John's foot dislodged from the cause of all this mess.
He had no knife on him and, even if he did, Rodney understood that any attempt to cut through the metal would be futile. That left him in a predicament. Obviously, he couldn't move John up to the surface, not by himself. Also, he didn't know if wiggling the stupid thing would make it release its hold. That meant he'd have to manoeuvre John's foot instead, causing his friend even more pain, and probably causing more damage.
It's better than dying.
As soon as the thought rushed through his mind, Rodney cursed himself for not moving into action sooner. If he'd dived in to help John immediately, could this situation have been avoided? Probably not, but that didn't matter, because he'd never know.
Reaching forwards with his other hand, Rodney grabbed the bottom of John's jacket so he could pull himself closer to the metal. The water was unforgiving, and the cold that had previously made him want to escape this horrible place turned into an icy ache, burning his flesh as he attempted to move his fingers. They had gone numb quite a while ago, but it seemed his skin still wanted to let him acknowledge the pain.
Biting back the cry of hurt as he finally managed to touch the metal, Rodney cringed in sympathy. This was going to be painful. Dragging his body closer so he could get a better look, Rodney was only too thankful that his vision had adjusted enough to the darkness surrounding him. His eyes were probably bloodshot, his skin red raw from the freezing temperature, but his determination was strong. His friend needed him, in a physical sense rather than mental, in a different way to the usual need, but that wouldn't stop Rodney being of help. He could be physically useful, he could. His mind wasn't the only instrument he had at hand to get his friends out of bad circumstances.
Taking in the image in front of him, Rodney didn't hesitate as he moved his hands to clutch at John's foot. Fiddling with the laces, the movement slow and exhausting, he untied the boot and used all of his energy, or what little was left of it, to remove it from John's wounded foot. The jerk as he did this was expected, though the weakness to it was not. Eyes going wide as he let the boot slip from his grip, Rodney snapped his attention back to John's face. Panic rising into him, Rodney had to bite back the worry. It would do no good to be distracted by concern now.
John was losing consciousness, yes, but that was normal. Of course he was unable to stay awake. The man was drowning, for goodness sake.
Gritting his teeth together, tearing his gaze away from John's features, Rodney eyed the metal with trepidation and fury. Now that the boot was off, he could see that John's foot wouldn't need turning at all, as it would easily slip out of the bars with little effort. That didn't stop Rodney's anger. The pathetic object that had caused his friend to sink down so far could very well be the thing that finally killed John, and it made Rodney want to scream in outrage. A stupid piece of metal had no right to cause this much pain. It wasn't right.
Filing away those thoughts to the back of his mind, Rodney closed his eyes for a second. Hatred would do nothing to help get John to safety. More trying matters needed his focus right now. Opening his eyes, Rodney brought his arms up, bending his elbows as he did so to get as much force as he could. Sloppy and getting harder by the second, his movements made Rodney want to collapse in exhaustion. Weariness was not a good thing to have, not right now.
Straining his muscles, fighting the urge to give up, Rodney thrust his hands out, letting them slam against the metal. The impact shoved the metal away relatively easy, for which Rodney was grateful. Now all he had to do was get John back up to the surface, and they'd be fine.
Easier said than done.
It was the truth, and Rodney understood that. He was already too tired, had spent too much energy. If luck was on his side he'd be able to get himself back to much needed air, but that was it. There was no way in hell he'd have the strength to drag an unconscious man back up with him.
Torn, confused and distraught, Rodney felt tears start to well up in his eyes. This was hopeless. He'd failed his friend.
Suddenly, without warning, another shape came into view. Startled yet unable to jerk backwards due to lack of energy, Rodney began trembling as another silhouette started towards them. Large and fast, it looked menacing as it swam lower, heading right in their direction. Maybe he didn't have to make the decision to leave John after all. Maybe they were both going to die in the end anyway.
Blinking back the terror, limbs shaking, Rodney watched with mild curiosity as the silhouette began transforming into a familiar outline. As it drew closer, it moulded into the form of a man, one he actually recognised.
It was Ronon.
The trip back to the Stargate was a complete blur in his memory. He remembered seeing a beautiful image in the water, one that had come to the rescue. He remembered taking his first breath in what had felt like hours. He remembered cries and shouts as Teyla and Ronon had tried to revive John, screams and wails from the men who had captured them as they were killed and slaughtered. He remembered coming through the Stargate, feeling a rush of relief upon seeing the city he had come to call home.
But that had all happened so fast, too quickly for him to get anything more from the memories other than flashes of dying men and the concerned faces of his friends.
Before he could even come to terms with everything that had happened, Rodney had found himself in the infirmary, a warm blanket placed over his body, a soft pillow under his head, and the calm voice of Carson speaking comforts as he treated him.
Closing his eyes against the rush of emotions that came spiralling into him, Rodney drew in a deep breath. Drawing it back out slowly in the attempt to calm his nerves, hoping that it would clear his bewilderment, Rodney opened his eyes and gazed into the worried face of a man whose presence he cherished quite a lot as of late.
"Carson?"
The doctor gave a small smile. "It's good to see you awake, Rodney."
This only added to the confused haze in Rodney's mind. "Awake?"
"Aye. You've been asleep for almost sixteen hours. That swim really took it out of you."
At once all of his memories returned. Letting out a tiny, audible gasp, Rodney felt his nerves set alight as he bolted upright in the bed, ignoring it when the covers slipped into a crumpled mess over his legs. Back protesting against the move, a sharp pain jolted down his neck, making Rodney yelp in surprise.
A gentle, yet firm hand was on his shoulder immediately, inflicting a little force to try and get him to lie back down. Words met his ears, sentences he'd heard many times flowed from Carson's lips, but Rodney didn't pay them any heed.
"Where's Sheppard?"
Everything else seemed to pale in comparison when the question came out. He could recall almost every detail, now, of what had happened on that planet, save for one thing. Had John survived or not? Did Ronon or Teyla get him breathing again? What if he'd swallowed too much water?
Horror seeping into his thoughts, Rodney's face paled considerably as the notion that John hadn't gotten out alive flowed into him. Why could he remember everything except the fate of his friend? Almost certainly that meant his mind had rejected the truth, shut down and closed off the information, because it was something he didn't want to acknowledge. It was the only explanation, the only thing that made sense.
"Right here, Rodney."
Voice hoarse, tone quiet and relaxed, the words brought Rodney out of his reverie instantly. Head snapping around to stare at the man who had spoken, Rodney couldn't stop the hitch of his breath, couldn't help but show his shock and joy upon seeing John sitting in the bed beside him, a weak smile lighting up his features.
John looked tired, worn down. Eyes flickering to his foot for an instance confirmed what Rodney had suspected. It had indeed been broken, but was now secured and bandaged, thanks to Carson. Even though he looked like shit, Rodney was glad to see him. Hurt but alive, the latter part was the important fact.
"Y- You're okay."
Rodney found that the words came out stuttered, alarmed in a disbelieving way.
John's smile grew. "Yeah, because of you. Thanks, Rodney." It was nothing more than a whisper, but the words were sincere and honest.
Rodney replied with his own smile. It was all he could do to show his happiness. He hadn't failed after all. He'd managed to save his friend, managed to get him loose so he could be pulled out of the water. He had saved his best friend. As far as his accomplishments went, Rodney knew for a fact that it would take some doing to outdo that one, if it was possible to surpass it, in any case, which he believed to be unlikely.
