Lightning Strikes, part 5
And now, for your viewing pleasure... part 5Remember to review, please. My kitty likes them better than kitty treats (and it takes a LOT of treats to satisfy a tiger)
Part 5
As soon as they left Ops, McKay headed for the labs. As they walked, he kept trying to engage Sheppard, asking questions about each room they passed. Sheppard refused to play the ‘let’s make nice’ game and gave only the information he was asked for, nothing more. He decided that he was going to piss McKay off by making him ask for each drabble of information. Answers to questions were delivered in a monotone and were kept to a minimum number of words. The constant use, plus the discord of sounds that some of the devices were making, caused his headache to return full force.
As they proceeded through the labs, McKay grew frustrated with Sheppard. Normally, the naturally curious pilot would have been poking his nose into every corner, looking at every device. Not this time, though. This time, he stood in one place, only moving when necessary, speaking in a monotone and only giving short answers when asked about rooms or devices. Any other question was ignored completely, even McKay’s increasingly nasty and snide comments just rolled off the pilot like water from a duck’s back.
Their expedition, also known as ‘McKay with Sheppard on a leash’ lasted until well after midnight. Rodney had completely ignored Sheppard’s well-being. They had not stopped for lunch or dinner. Rodney was constantly devouring power bars, occasionally tossing Sheppard one along with a bottle of water. He had also failed to notice that Sheppard’s steps had progressively become slower to the point that he was pulling the Colonel from one lab to the other. McKay simply thought that Sheppard was being difficult. McKay had also missed the pain lines forming around the Colonel’s eyes and mouth, and the way he started squinting.
Around midnight, most of the scientists had gone to bed and Rodney decided to head to his lab to start compiling the information. Seeing Sheppard still standing where he had stopped after entering the lab, McKay waved him towards the cot in the corner.
“You might as well get some sleep. I’m not letting you out of my sight. I still have you for 24 hours and I’m going to use every one of them.”
Sheppard never replied, just shuffled to the cot, laid down and dropped into an uneasy sleep, hunger and pain taking a back seat to exhaustion.
A few hours later, McKay kicked Sheppard out of the cot, telling him that it was time to get back to work. If he had been paying attention, McKay would have noticed the anger brewing under the pain and hunger in Sheppard’s eyes. As the Colonel stood, McKay tossed him two power bars and a bottle of water after allowing him to use the bathroom as he stood outside so his ‘assistant’ wouldn’t escape.
The morning and afternoon went the way of the day before, McKay dragging Sheppard from lab to lab. The pair were even stopped in the halls as scientists rushed up with items that they thought might be Ancient that had been doing duty as paperweights or sculptures. Some were, some weren’t, but the effort of finding out was taking its toll on John.
The only labs that they did not visit were those of Miko Kusanagi and Radek Zelenka. Miko refused McKay’s assistance and Zelenka was bypassed because he stuck up for Sheppard two days previously.
Carson Beckett was passing down one of the corridors that led from the science labs when he saw Sheppard and McKay enter one of the columned junctions. Even though he had returned only a few hours previously, Carson had already heard about the incidents and about Woolsey practically ordering Sheppard to be McKay’s ‘assistant’ for 48 hours.
Seeing the two men ahead of him, Carson moved closer in order to observe. He didn’t like what he saw. McKay was his normal, caffeinated self; bright eyed and bushy tailed after only a few hours of sleep. John, on the other hand, was shaking with fine tremors, his footsteps stumbling and hesitant, shoulders slumped, pale faced, and with dark circles under his dull, pain-filled eyes.
Just as Carson moved to intercept the obviously exhausted pilot, a scientist stepped out of a cross-corridor.
“Hey, Colonel Sheppard, catch!”
Carson saw John reach up instinctively to catch the object hurdling at his head. He raised his left hand as the object neared him. If Sheppard hadn’t been so exhausted, his reflexes dulled by hunger and pain, he could have avoided what was coming.
As the object left the scientist’s hand, it actually sped up. When John raised his hand to catch it, the pearly white ball shifted, changing shape in mid-air, to become a flechette. The slim, pearly dart pierced Sheppard’s left hand, the momentum turning him and pulling him into one of the liquid-filled columns. His cry of pain was sharp, but was cut off by the crack of his head impacting the column, which was overshadowed by a loud pop as the flechette pulled John’s arm past the column, only stopping when it couldn’t drag Sheppard’s dead weight along, which pulled it to the floor as Sheppard crumpled, silent and unmoving.
Carson called for a medical team as he rushed over to his friend. Reaching Sheppard, Carson noted the unnatural angle of his left shoulder, possibly broken or dislocated. Placing his hand on John’s neck, he was not happy as he felt the shallow pulse under his fingertips. Swiftly pulling out his penlight, Carson checked the pilot’s pupils. They were sluggish and only closed down fitfully, not smoothly as they should, which indicated a severe concussion. As hard as the lad’s head hit, Carson surmised that he’d be lucky to not have a skull fracture. Checking the Colonel’s hand, he found that two of the bones in John’s hand were broken and would need surgery to set right. Turning his attention to John’s shoulder, Carson discovered that it was only dislocated, which would only make a slight difference in the lad’s discomfort.
Standing nearby, McKay grew impatient as Carson assessed Sheppard’s injuries. He felt that the Scottish doctor was taking way too much time, in fact doing so in order to waste his time in order to help Sheppard avoid helping him. Finally, as the medical team and gurney arrived, McKay exploded.
“Carson, what are you doing?”
Unperturbed, Carson continued getting Sheppard ready for transport, the medics wrapping the Colonel’s hand and getting an IV started. “Taking the Colonel to the infirmary so I can treat his injuries.”
“Injuries?” McKay scoffed. “He’s malingering. Just wave an ammonia tab under his nose, wake him up, and slap some Band-Aids on him. I have important work I need him for.”
Carson was livid. He couldn’t believe what his ears were tellin’ him. “Rodney, ye’re a great bloody arse! I’ll do no such thing! The Colonel is severely injured, and bloody well needs medical treatment and surgery.” Carson advanced on McKay, seriously considering breaking his oath. “If ye need him so damned badly, then why didn’t you get the Colonel a decent bloody night’s sleep and some food? If that damn device hadn’t hit him, he’d have been on the floor in another few minutes, having passed out from exhaustion!”
“Seriously, Carson, I’ve seen him go longer on less.” McKay was getting frustrated. “He didn’t want to do this, so he’s playing it up for your benefit. Just rattle some chicken bones over him and he’ll be fine.”
Carson was about to punch McKay, his protective nature and Scottish temper having finally been pushed too far when Lorne, Ronon and Teyla came around the corner, accompanied by a squad of Marines.
Assessing the situation in an instant, Lorne stepped between the two doctors. “Hey, Docs, what’s up?”
Rodney jumped first. “Dr Beckett is trying to carry Colonel Sheppard off, stating that he’s injured. All Sheppard needs is some Tylenol and some Band-Aids. He’s playing possum in order to get out of helping me!”
Carson lunged for Rodney, but Lorne intercepted him.
“Hey, hold up, Doc. Dr Beckett, what is Colonel Sheppard’s condition?”
“The Colonel has a severe concussion from impacting yon pillar. He also has a dislocated shoulder and broken left hand with a piercing injury.” Carson glared at Rodney. “And I am not trying to carry him off, I am carrying him off!”
With that, Carson motioned to his team and they raced off, the unconscious Colonel strapped to the gurney, Ronon and Teyla at his heels.
McKay couldn’t believe it; was every military officer in the city a complete idiot? First Sheppard gets knocked down by a toy, then Lorne lets Carson kidnap his research assistant off to the infirmary, claiming that he’s severely injured. “Major, I protest! Have him bring my assistant back!”
Having seen Sheppard’s condition and having noted the blood on the column and on the floor, Lorne had had enough of McKay’s attitude. “Dr McKay, you need to stop this, right now. Colonel Sheppard is badly injured.” Lorne pointed at the floor and column, his easy drawl having vanished and been replaced with a voice of steel. “Did you see the blood? I assure you, that’s damn well not paint! Now, I suggest you go to your lab or to the mess hall or to your quarters, because this field trip is over.
Rodney huffed. “You can’t do that. I’m a civilian.”
Lorne nodded, his voice sharp with suppressed anger. “That’s right. You are a civilian that has endangered the life of the military commander of this city and who has attempted to withhold medical treatment from said commander. Those are criminal offenses regardless of which code of law you go by.”
“He’s correct, Dr McKay.”
Both men turned to see Richard Woolsey making his way through the small crowd.
“I heard what happened, and I agree with Major Lorne’s assessments.” Woolsey pushed his glasses up. “I also took the liberty of reviewing the footage from the isolation room during Colonel Sheppard’s stay, as well as speaking with Dr Zelenka. Both were most…enlightening. I withdraw my order to Colonel Sheppard to be your research assistant, even though there are only 12 hours left. I am also going to enforce Major Lorne’s suggestion.”
Richard drew himself up to his full height and cleared his throat. “Dr McKay, you are barred from the infirmary until or unless your presence is requested. If you have any medical needs, a medic will come to you.” Turning, pronouncement made, Woolsey started to leave then stopped and turned to face McKay again. “And, while Major Lorne may not be able to give you orders, I can and have. Dismissed, Doctor.” Woolsey stared at McKay until he stalked off.
“Major, post guards on the infirmary - all entrances. If Dr McKay gets within their line of sight, escort him to the brig then call me.”
Lorne nodded, almost saluting. “Yes, sir.”
**on to part 6**
Part 5
As soon as they left Ops, McKay headed for the labs. As they walked, he kept trying to engage Sheppard, asking questions about each room they passed. Sheppard refused to play the ‘let’s make nice’ game and gave only the information he was asked for, nothing more. He decided that he was going to piss McKay off by making him ask for each drabble of information. Answers to questions were delivered in a monotone and were kept to a minimum number of words. The constant use, plus the discord of sounds that some of the devices were making, caused his headache to return full force.
As they proceeded through the labs, McKay grew frustrated with Sheppard. Normally, the naturally curious pilot would have been poking his nose into every corner, looking at every device. Not this time, though. This time, he stood in one place, only moving when necessary, speaking in a monotone and only giving short answers when asked about rooms or devices. Any other question was ignored completely, even McKay’s increasingly nasty and snide comments just rolled off the pilot like water from a duck’s back.
Their expedition, also known as ‘McKay with Sheppard on a leash’ lasted until well after midnight. Rodney had completely ignored Sheppard’s well-being. They had not stopped for lunch or dinner. Rodney was constantly devouring power bars, occasionally tossing Sheppard one along with a bottle of water. He had also failed to notice that Sheppard’s steps had progressively become slower to the point that he was pulling the Colonel from one lab to the other. McKay simply thought that Sheppard was being difficult. McKay had also missed the pain lines forming around the Colonel’s eyes and mouth, and the way he started squinting.
Around midnight, most of the scientists had gone to bed and Rodney decided to head to his lab to start compiling the information. Seeing Sheppard still standing where he had stopped after entering the lab, McKay waved him towards the cot in the corner.
“You might as well get some sleep. I’m not letting you out of my sight. I still have you for 24 hours and I’m going to use every one of them.”
Sheppard never replied, just shuffled to the cot, laid down and dropped into an uneasy sleep, hunger and pain taking a back seat to exhaustion.
A few hours later, McKay kicked Sheppard out of the cot, telling him that it was time to get back to work. If he had been paying attention, McKay would have noticed the anger brewing under the pain and hunger in Sheppard’s eyes. As the Colonel stood, McKay tossed him two power bars and a bottle of water after allowing him to use the bathroom as he stood outside so his ‘assistant’ wouldn’t escape.
The morning and afternoon went the way of the day before, McKay dragging Sheppard from lab to lab. The pair were even stopped in the halls as scientists rushed up with items that they thought might be Ancient that had been doing duty as paperweights or sculptures. Some were, some weren’t, but the effort of finding out was taking its toll on John.
The only labs that they did not visit were those of Miko Kusanagi and Radek Zelenka. Miko refused McKay’s assistance and Zelenka was bypassed because he stuck up for Sheppard two days previously.
Carson Beckett was passing down one of the corridors that led from the science labs when he saw Sheppard and McKay enter one of the columned junctions. Even though he had returned only a few hours previously, Carson had already heard about the incidents and about Woolsey practically ordering Sheppard to be McKay’s ‘assistant’ for 48 hours.
Seeing the two men ahead of him, Carson moved closer in order to observe. He didn’t like what he saw. McKay was his normal, caffeinated self; bright eyed and bushy tailed after only a few hours of sleep. John, on the other hand, was shaking with fine tremors, his footsteps stumbling and hesitant, shoulders slumped, pale faced, and with dark circles under his dull, pain-filled eyes.
Just as Carson moved to intercept the obviously exhausted pilot, a scientist stepped out of a cross-corridor.
“Hey, Colonel Sheppard, catch!”
Carson saw John reach up instinctively to catch the object hurdling at his head. He raised his left hand as the object neared him. If Sheppard hadn’t been so exhausted, his reflexes dulled by hunger and pain, he could have avoided what was coming.
As the object left the scientist’s hand, it actually sped up. When John raised his hand to catch it, the pearly white ball shifted, changing shape in mid-air, to become a flechette. The slim, pearly dart pierced Sheppard’s left hand, the momentum turning him and pulling him into one of the liquid-filled columns. His cry of pain was sharp, but was cut off by the crack of his head impacting the column, which was overshadowed by a loud pop as the flechette pulled John’s arm past the column, only stopping when it couldn’t drag Sheppard’s dead weight along, which pulled it to the floor as Sheppard crumpled, silent and unmoving.
Carson called for a medical team as he rushed over to his friend. Reaching Sheppard, Carson noted the unnatural angle of his left shoulder, possibly broken or dislocated. Placing his hand on John’s neck, he was not happy as he felt the shallow pulse under his fingertips. Swiftly pulling out his penlight, Carson checked the pilot’s pupils. They were sluggish and only closed down fitfully, not smoothly as they should, which indicated a severe concussion. As hard as the lad’s head hit, Carson surmised that he’d be lucky to not have a skull fracture. Checking the Colonel’s hand, he found that two of the bones in John’s hand were broken and would need surgery to set right. Turning his attention to John’s shoulder, Carson discovered that it was only dislocated, which would only make a slight difference in the lad’s discomfort.
Standing nearby, McKay grew impatient as Carson assessed Sheppard’s injuries. He felt that the Scottish doctor was taking way too much time, in fact doing so in order to waste his time in order to help Sheppard avoid helping him. Finally, as the medical team and gurney arrived, McKay exploded.
“Carson, what are you doing?”
Unperturbed, Carson continued getting Sheppard ready for transport, the medics wrapping the Colonel’s hand and getting an IV started. “Taking the Colonel to the infirmary so I can treat his injuries.”
“Injuries?” McKay scoffed. “He’s malingering. Just wave an ammonia tab under his nose, wake him up, and slap some Band-Aids on him. I have important work I need him for.”
Carson was livid. He couldn’t believe what his ears were tellin’ him. “Rodney, ye’re a great bloody arse! I’ll do no such thing! The Colonel is severely injured, and bloody well needs medical treatment and surgery.” Carson advanced on McKay, seriously considering breaking his oath. “If ye need him so damned badly, then why didn’t you get the Colonel a decent bloody night’s sleep and some food? If that damn device hadn’t hit him, he’d have been on the floor in another few minutes, having passed out from exhaustion!”
“Seriously, Carson, I’ve seen him go longer on less.” McKay was getting frustrated. “He didn’t want to do this, so he’s playing it up for your benefit. Just rattle some chicken bones over him and he’ll be fine.”
Carson was about to punch McKay, his protective nature and Scottish temper having finally been pushed too far when Lorne, Ronon and Teyla came around the corner, accompanied by a squad of Marines.
Assessing the situation in an instant, Lorne stepped between the two doctors. “Hey, Docs, what’s up?”
Rodney jumped first. “Dr Beckett is trying to carry Colonel Sheppard off, stating that he’s injured. All Sheppard needs is some Tylenol and some Band-Aids. He’s playing possum in order to get out of helping me!”
Carson lunged for Rodney, but Lorne intercepted him.
“Hey, hold up, Doc. Dr Beckett, what is Colonel Sheppard’s condition?”
“The Colonel has a severe concussion from impacting yon pillar. He also has a dislocated shoulder and broken left hand with a piercing injury.” Carson glared at Rodney. “And I am not trying to carry him off, I am carrying him off!”
With that, Carson motioned to his team and they raced off, the unconscious Colonel strapped to the gurney, Ronon and Teyla at his heels.
McKay couldn’t believe it; was every military officer in the city a complete idiot? First Sheppard gets knocked down by a toy, then Lorne lets Carson kidnap his research assistant off to the infirmary, claiming that he’s severely injured. “Major, I protest! Have him bring my assistant back!”
Having seen Sheppard’s condition and having noted the blood on the column and on the floor, Lorne had had enough of McKay’s attitude. “Dr McKay, you need to stop this, right now. Colonel Sheppard is badly injured.” Lorne pointed at the floor and column, his easy drawl having vanished and been replaced with a voice of steel. “Did you see the blood? I assure you, that’s damn well not paint! Now, I suggest you go to your lab or to the mess hall or to your quarters, because this field trip is over.
Rodney huffed. “You can’t do that. I’m a civilian.”
Lorne nodded, his voice sharp with suppressed anger. “That’s right. You are a civilian that has endangered the life of the military commander of this city and who has attempted to withhold medical treatment from said commander. Those are criminal offenses regardless of which code of law you go by.”
“He’s correct, Dr McKay.”
Both men turned to see Richard Woolsey making his way through the small crowd.
“I heard what happened, and I agree with Major Lorne’s assessments.” Woolsey pushed his glasses up. “I also took the liberty of reviewing the footage from the isolation room during Colonel Sheppard’s stay, as well as speaking with Dr Zelenka. Both were most…enlightening. I withdraw my order to Colonel Sheppard to be your research assistant, even though there are only 12 hours left. I am also going to enforce Major Lorne’s suggestion.”
Richard drew himself up to his full height and cleared his throat. “Dr McKay, you are barred from the infirmary until or unless your presence is requested. If you have any medical needs, a medic will come to you.” Turning, pronouncement made, Woolsey started to leave then stopped and turned to face McKay again. “And, while Major Lorne may not be able to give you orders, I can and have. Dismissed, Doctor.” Woolsey stared at McKay until he stalked off.
“Major, post guards on the infirmary - all entrances. If Dr McKay gets within their line of sight, escort him to the brig then call me.”
Lorne nodded, almost saluting. “Yes, sir.”
**on to part 6**