Fic: Protect and Survive II: Raising the Stakes (5/11)
Title: Protect and Survive II: Raising the Stakes (5/11)
Fandom: Stargate
Rating: T
Genres: action/adventure, drama
Summary: Laura Cadman is caught between a rock and a hard place. Or maybe rather between her heart and her head? Anyway, it's never easy when a certain Doctor and Major are involved.
A/N: Okay, I'm trying this "posting fairly regular" thing again. Let's see how long it'll last this time...
( Raising the Stakes: Prologue )
( Raising the Stakes 1/11 )
( Raising the Stakes 2/11 )
( Raising the Stakes 3/11 )
( Raising the Stakes 4/11 )
Five
Make it stop, she thinks. Please, God, if you are really there… make it stop.
At first… there’d been silence, every sound blocked by the massive wooden door closing behind Evan. The three of them had thrown wary glances at each other, not sure what would come next. Then she’d given herself a shove and had Meyers asked about the “fluffy little thing” they’d brought back from God knows where, just to keep them all distracted from this terrible silence.
About ten minutes later, she’d wished the silence back. Furiously. Because that had been when the screams had started. She’d tried to get the conversation going, hold the team together, not let them be bothered by this, but in the end it had been too much. Neither of them could pretend much longer that nothing was happening. “I’ll be okay”, her ass. If she ever hears “I’ll be okay.” from him again, she’ll personally shove it down his throat.
And now the screams are still echoing through the door. They’re not as loud and as frequent as before, and she hopes that this is just a sign that Mr. Evil is losing interest in Evan. However… this hasn’t been the mission where hoping has gotten them much up to now. Then… the screams stop… and if the silence before was terrible, this one is downright unbearable.
She sits very, very still, which is taking up all her energy. But she knows that if she wouldn’t concentrate on this, she’d be up on her feet, trying to pry this door open with her bare hands, teeth, anything to get this guy away from Evan. The intensity of this scares her. Of course she would suffer as well if it were Carson or Meyers behind this door, of course she’d feel guilty for just letting Mr. Evil take them away, of course she’d be afraid of whatever will follow this… but she would not feel this insane need to be at their side now.
God, she thinks, you’re pathetic, Cadman. What happened to being professional about your CO? What happened to not wanting anything more than friendship with Carson and Evan? This is exactly why there are non-frat regulations and right now, your picture would be placed as a bad example beside the explanation in any encyclopedia.
When the silence endures with nothing happening, she can’t help closing her eyes and tightening her hands around the hem of her uniform jacket. It’s this moment that Carson chooses to address her in a very low voice. “Laura…”
She knows what he’s going to say, and quite frankly she really doesn’t want to hear it. “Don’t.”
“Laura, I know it’s hard…” Yep, that about was what she’d been afraid of.
“No.” He looks a little like a kicked puppy now. Yes, he just wants to help. She appreciates that. But he should have been around soldiers long enough to know that you don’t try to offer them some counseling in the middle of a mission. So as hard as this is for her, she has to hurt the puppy a little more. “Listen, Carson: with Major Lorne now obviously down, I’m the officer in command here. I am responsible for the safe return of all of us. And I have a Sergeant over there whom I need to respect me if I want him to obey me. Show me one Marine NCO who will respect an officer who’s showing a weakness in a place like this, let alone a female officer. I sacrificed a lot to come as far as Atlantis. This is just not the place to sacrifice my respectability, as well.”
At first he says nothing, then he just nods defeated and replies, “I was just trying to be a friend, you know.”
She’s really making mistake after mistake today. She’s been too hard on him. She let the strain and the anxiety over Evan’s fate get the better of her. Trying to calm herself down, she takes a deep breath and looks at Carson. “I know. And I’m… sorry.” He nods, but she can still see that her outburst didn’t leave him untouched. “Look, it’s just…“ It dawns on her that it might not be a good idea to tell him how much this is affecting her when she just told him that this is the last thing she should be doing. “We’ll talk about this, okay? When we’re back, I’ll talk the mess hall crew into fixing you some… what did you call it? Oh right, hattit kit. Well, I’ll talk them into fixing it and we’ll talk?” She’s babbling, she knows that much, but obviously something in her rambling amused him because a little half-smile appears on his face.
“You’ll never learn how to pronounce it correctly, will you, love?” She wants to answer something, but in that moment the door is opened again and a disturbingly happily grinning Mr. Evil tosses a barely conscious Evan into the room. The minute he hits the floor with a suppressed groan Carson is on his feet, even faster than her. It’s quite an achievement actually, considering Carson’s hands are still bound behind his back.
The doctor in Carson - and the medic in Meyers, for that matter - make them forget their bound hands and want to attend to the wounded. Mr. Evil, though, obviously has something else on his mind. He quickly steps between Carson and Evan. Big mistake, she thinks. As much as you shouldn’t get between the Nazgul and its prey, you shouldn’t get between a medic and his patient.
“Ah, not so unaffected now, are we, doctor?” She wants to wipe this smug sneer from his face so very, very much, and a short look towards Meyers tells her that he’s just waiting for her signal to do so, but all she does is giving him a shake of her head. She’s the only one with her hands free, and Evan is lying dangerously near to the fire. Starting a fight now would very probably get him caught in the cross-fire and she wants to avoid getting anyone of them hurt any further. It’s only now that she starts to really understand Evan’s reasoning. Yeah, she scolds herself, great thinking, Lieutenant. Only took your CO getting beaten up to get this through your thick skull.
“I’m just wondering how you expect me to conduct my research with a damaged test subject.” Whoa. Two years in Michael’s claws have done… a lot to Carson. Well, it must be these two years, because she refuses to think that this boldness may come from him not being the original Carson. At least it helps her that she can see he’s not comfortable in his role and needs to put quite some effort into appearing absolutely cold.
“Oh. You just succeeded in surprising me. Well, then… let’s just say that I needed him in this condition. I need to work on the drug’s healing factor, and he’s in the perfect state for testing now. He will be even more so in a few hours time, I think.” She fervently hopes that this means he hasn’t been injected with anything yet.
“He’ll be dead in a few hours, if you don’t let me work on him now.” Come on, she begs Mr. Evil in her mind, come on, take the bait.
“Ah, I’m sure, your pretty girl soldier over there can continue playing nurse for a little while longer.” No, she can’t. She can’t even look at Evan’s unmoving figure. How is she supposed to take care of him?
“I’m ‘fraid not. These soldiers… the only thing they can do is shoot and bark out orders. They’re good for nothing else.” Is she just imagining it or is part of Carson’s dismay real?
“Oh, I can think of something the little girl could be good for…” insert dirty look towards her here, “but that will have to later.” That will have to wait for all eternity, you bastard, is all she can think of at this moment. “Very well. Let’s make a deal… I let you make sure this one won’t die within the next hours and you will help me with me research.” Her first impulse is to shout at Carson not to jump into this deal with the devil, but then of course she realizes that if Carson agrees, he will be finally unbound again and he might have the chance to see more of this compound and be able to tell them if there might be an escape road. So now she wants to shout at him to bloody take the deal and use it.
“Alright. But I might need help. Unbind this man and allow him to help me.” Carson jerks his chin towards Meyers, and she silently slaps him on the back. If… when they make it through this, she really owes him a ton of Scottish food and some really good whiskey. And babysitting his turtles once or twice.
“Ah, ah, how stupid do you think I am?” Carson raises his chin, and something in the change of his posture makes him look bigger than he really is.
“You want me to help you, you take off the bindings.” It always amazes her how much of a lion he can become when someone is denying him giving someone medical assistance. It’s one of the things that once upon a time made her fall in love with him, and even though these feelings have dissipated now, it still impresses her.
“Well… sometimes you have to compromise… how about I take this man’s bindings off, but don’t allow him out of this cozy little cave?” Instead of answering, Carson suddenly sneaks her a look. She realizes that her little speech did something to him. It made him realize that she’s the one in charge now. He asks her for authorization to enter into this. Without another hesitation, she nods, hoping Carson knows what do to while in this guy’s lab or whatever he calls his research facility.
With that, Mr. Evil - can’t that stupid bastard of a bad guy just tell them his name? It’s not as if they’re in a position to sprout it all over the galaxy, anyway - walks over to Meyers, who looks as if he needs every ounce of strength not to jump the man and cuts him lose. His last words before disappearing again have a strange ring to them, as he says, “You’ve got twenty minutes, Doctor. Make the best of them.”
Immediately, all of them scramble towards Evan. As they all crouch down around him, he finally coughs and mutters something sounding like, “Thanks for all the… attention, people, but I’m… fine.” This is just too much for her. She doesn’t know whether to slap him, kiss him or dissolve into hysterical laughter.
So in the end she opts for a simple growled, “The hell you are,” which is seconded by Carson who instantaneously motions her to kneel behind Evan to rest his head on her thighs, while Carson and Meyers carefully maneuver him on his back.
“Listen, all of you…” Without thinking she puts her hand on his mouth, knowing he won’t shut up if she didn’t. He wants to move his hand to remove the offending fingers from his mouth, but Meyers is fast enough to get a grip on it. Carson starts to work on him, fast, professional, accurate. He pushes up the shirt, and that motion alone makes Evan groan with pain. Maybe it’s this which distracts her too much, but suddenly she feels his teeth in her hand and automatically pulls it away.
“I said… listen. God, Doc, would you mind go looking for some damn painkillers?” The bastard. He deliberately bit her.
“And administer them with what, son?” Carson mutters, while he goes on carefully prodding the impossibly colored skin on Evan’s chest. Each prod is immediately followed by groaning and suppressed cussing - she’d never have thought Evan to have such a foul mouth… he even manages to slip in some Spanish and, from the sound of it, French cussing - and Carson’s face growing graver and graver.
“Holy Mother of God, what the bloody hell did that bugger do to you?” And now Carson’s accent starts to slip, which is never a good sign. She really wants to keep up hope and everything, and of course appear totally in charge of all her emotions, but as if by itself, her left hand has gone from solely supporting Evan’s head to stroke his forehead and his cheek to distract him and calm him down.
“You… don’t want to know. Jesus Christ, Doc! There have to be some oral painkillers in that damn bag of yours! And add some stims while you’re at it.” Carson sighs and then signals Meyers to get the medpac.
“I doubt any of this will seriously help you, but since you’re begging for it…” Evan actually manages to glare at Carson, what with his black eye and the lacerations all over his face. Carson, quite unfazed, just gives Evan the painkillers and stims he’s been asking for.
Swallowing them seems to be quite an effort, but she attributes that to the fact that he’s still lying down. “I wasn’t begging. You were torturing me. Anyway… I want you to listen now. And keep that hand away… from my mouth, Laura. I quite like it where it is now.” Oh. She hasn’t seen that one coming. A little embarrassed she finds herself staring at aforementioned hand lying on his forehead. Painkillerstalkingpainkillerstalkingpainkillerstalking, is the only thought rotating in her head, conveniently forgetting that he probably hasn’t even fully swallowed them yet.
But at least she’s focused enough that she can wrench a grumbled “I can’t imagine why.” from herself. Something in that must have been amusing, because it actually makes him taking the pain to form a smile.
He becomes serious very fast, though, trying to ignore Carson administering a provisional bandage around his ribcage. “There’s… three more rooms behind that door. One… lab, two… testing room, three… probably storage. Storage… is to the right, directly… after the door. Good place for the… weapons and equipment. Door… can only be opened from the other side. And… lab looks pretty sophisticated. You got all that?” That’s… nearly impossible. He actually managed to take in as much intel as he could, even though he knew he’d probably gotten beating into submission.
But thank God at least she finally has found her voice again. “Yes, sir.” He nods.
“Good. Because it’s up to you now to find us a way out of here.” Whee, great… except not. If he’s so ready to put such a huge chunk of his responsibility into her hands, something must be seriously wrong. She doesn’t want to, but she needs to know Carson’s prognosis now.
“Once in a lifetime opportunity for me.” She doesn’t wait for Evan to comment on her apparent lack of optimism, but addresses Carson. “Alright… what do you think?” He passes her a look that says very clearly that he does not want to discuss this in front of the patient.
“Don’t even think about… dragging her off to a corner, Doc. I think, I can take it like a man.” Again, one of these comments she wants to hit him for. Doesn’t he get it? This is not the place and the time to make quips like these.
“Alright. I think, apart from the heave bruising and the lacerations… you broke at least one rib, and it’s possible that your lung has been punctured. I can’t rule out other inner bleeding either. You still have your spleen, Major?” Evan just shakes his head. Well, that’s interesting… She realizes that there are a fair number of things she still doesn’t know about him and fervently hopes that she’ll be able to ask him about this, when all of this is over. “Your luck. It sure would have been ruptured now.” Carson sighs, and then looks at her and Meyers. “You need to monitor him while I’m away. If he starts coughing up blood… I might have to… well…” Ask Mr. Evil for some enzyme to keep him alive. But didn’t they agree on not letting anyone of them become corrupted by it?
“Perform emergency surgery, right?” Meyers helpfully supplies, effectually avoiding the topic none of them wants to talk about.
“Aye.” She looks down at Evan, and he finally looks her in the eye. Both of them know that they won’t let it come to letting anyone near him with a syringe full of enzyme. For the first time in quite a while she’s positive that she knows exactly what he’s trying to tell her. It’s definitely something along the lines of “I trust you not to let anyone inject me with that stuff.” As a confirmation, she simply traces his cheek with her thump, making him close his eyes.
As painful as all of this is, she actually wants this moment to last. For the first time in two weeks she doesn’t feel like a total loser at interpersonal relationships anymore, and she can even forgive herself a little for that stupid stunt on the balcony. Showing her that he still trusts her with this small gesture did more for her faith in their friendship than a thousand words could have done.
But of course fate doesn’t want her to have any “moments” and decides to make this the minute Mr. Evil is back. “Now, isn’t this a cute little scene? I’m tempted to pull out some cloth to wipe the tears from my eyes.”
This guy is surely starting to grate on her nerves. If it wasn’t for Evan’s head on her thigh and the standing orders not to do anything… but it is, and so she forces herself to keep her trap shut and let Carson do the talking. “And while you’re busy being sentimental, I would like to get this over with.”
“Your eagerness surely speaks for you, Doctor. Well, then… it would be a shame to waste any more time, wouldn’t it?” And with that Carson gets up, not without giving Meyers some last minute advice. If they make it through this, she thinks, she doesn’t only owe Carson some big favors, but also Meyers. She already has the text for her recommendation nearly fully formulated in her head.
Then Carson is gone and she orders Meyers to retire and catch on some sleep. Something tells her that she’ll need him awake later. He’s a little reluctant, so she assures him that she’ll wake him up immediately if she needs any assistance and then makes it quite clear that she wasn’t suggesting him to go sleep, but ordering him.
When he’s wandered off into his corner, it’s only Evan and her again. At first it looks like he’s already passed out, but after a few labored breaths, he starts talking again. “Laura, if I don’t make it back…”
She doesn’t want to hear this. And anyway, this is Major Evan Lorne, kick-ass soldier who never gives up. So all she says is a rather gruff, “Shut the hell up.”
As of now, she doesn’t even care about the fact that this is still her CO. Doesn’t keep him from continuing whatever he wanted to say. “No, listen, if I don’t…”
Alright, she’s had it now. “Hey, you wouldn’t let me tell you I’m sorry for being a brat in that underground shelter, so I think it’s only fair I won’t let you tell me some unnecessary last words now.”
A strange sound escapes his throat. It takes a moment to identify it as laughter. “God, Laura, stop doing that. And you… certainly have a point there…” He’s becoming serious again, shortly closing his eyes and taking a deep rattling breath. Can’t he just stop talking? “But I’m saying this as your CO now. If I don’t make it through this… I want you to be the one to deliver my dog tags to my family.”
This… is among the last things she expected to hear now. It makes her uncomfortable and wanting to be a million light years away. “Evan, I…”
“Promise me, Laura.” He really means it. He wants her to be the one walking up to his parents’ house and tell them of the heroic death their son died for their planet… country. Theoretically, of course. Not that this is going to happen anyway. But she owes him an answer.
“Right. I promise. But just for the record: this is stupid, because all of us will make it back. No more discussions about this.”
Again laughing, followed by some pained groaning. “Stop making me laugh, goddammit. And your ego sure is too big for that of a Lieutenant.”
Finally. That’s the Evan she knows. A little snarky, a little snappy, even in sticky situations. That’s something she can handle, something she knows how to play along. “There’s a regulation about the size of egos according to ranks?”
“I remember reading a memo on that, yes. Maybe… it’s about time… you make Captain. To accommodate this inflated ego of yours, I mean.” Oh, that was a good one. It helps her believe that things can’t be that bad, if he’s still maintained his sense of humor.
“Well, that’s not my decision now, is it?” She manages to look a little mock-disgruntled. It prompts a smile from him.
“Good point. Laura?” Aw, come on, even more last words?
“What?”
“I think… you’d really get on great with my sister.” He even manages to grin. What the? She decides better not to ask what he meant with this. Better just keep playing along with it.
“I’m sure we’ll find another way of finding that out than me bringing her your dog tags. Evan?” Ha. Now it’s her turn to confuse him a little.
“Mh?”
“Where the hell did you learn how to cuss in French?” Actually, that’s something she really wants to know.
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Alright, so much for her confusing him. But before she can scold him, he closes his eyes again and adds a slurred, “And now… I think I’m finally going to pass out.”
Fandom: Stargate
Rating: T
Genres: action/adventure, drama
Summary: Laura Cadman is caught between a rock and a hard place. Or maybe rather between her heart and her head? Anyway, it's never easy when a certain Doctor and Major are involved.
A/N: Okay, I'm trying this "posting fairly regular" thing again. Let's see how long it'll last this time...
( Raising the Stakes: Prologue )
( Raising the Stakes 1/11 )
( Raising the Stakes 2/11 )
( Raising the Stakes 3/11 )
( Raising the Stakes 4/11 )
Five
Make it stop, she thinks. Please, God, if you are really there… make it stop.
At first… there’d been silence, every sound blocked by the massive wooden door closing behind Evan. The three of them had thrown wary glances at each other, not sure what would come next. Then she’d given herself a shove and had Meyers asked about the “fluffy little thing” they’d brought back from God knows where, just to keep them all distracted from this terrible silence.
About ten minutes later, she’d wished the silence back. Furiously. Because that had been when the screams had started. She’d tried to get the conversation going, hold the team together, not let them be bothered by this, but in the end it had been too much. Neither of them could pretend much longer that nothing was happening. “I’ll be okay”, her ass. If she ever hears “I’ll be okay.” from him again, she’ll personally shove it down his throat.
And now the screams are still echoing through the door. They’re not as loud and as frequent as before, and she hopes that this is just a sign that Mr. Evil is losing interest in Evan. However… this hasn’t been the mission where hoping has gotten them much up to now. Then… the screams stop… and if the silence before was terrible, this one is downright unbearable.
She sits very, very still, which is taking up all her energy. But she knows that if she wouldn’t concentrate on this, she’d be up on her feet, trying to pry this door open with her bare hands, teeth, anything to get this guy away from Evan. The intensity of this scares her. Of course she would suffer as well if it were Carson or Meyers behind this door, of course she’d feel guilty for just letting Mr. Evil take them away, of course she’d be afraid of whatever will follow this… but she would not feel this insane need to be at their side now.
God, she thinks, you’re pathetic, Cadman. What happened to being professional about your CO? What happened to not wanting anything more than friendship with Carson and Evan? This is exactly why there are non-frat regulations and right now, your picture would be placed as a bad example beside the explanation in any encyclopedia.
When the silence endures with nothing happening, she can’t help closing her eyes and tightening her hands around the hem of her uniform jacket. It’s this moment that Carson chooses to address her in a very low voice. “Laura…”
She knows what he’s going to say, and quite frankly she really doesn’t want to hear it. “Don’t.”
“Laura, I know it’s hard…” Yep, that about was what she’d been afraid of.
“No.” He looks a little like a kicked puppy now. Yes, he just wants to help. She appreciates that. But he should have been around soldiers long enough to know that you don’t try to offer them some counseling in the middle of a mission. So as hard as this is for her, she has to hurt the puppy a little more. “Listen, Carson: with Major Lorne now obviously down, I’m the officer in command here. I am responsible for the safe return of all of us. And I have a Sergeant over there whom I need to respect me if I want him to obey me. Show me one Marine NCO who will respect an officer who’s showing a weakness in a place like this, let alone a female officer. I sacrificed a lot to come as far as Atlantis. This is just not the place to sacrifice my respectability, as well.”
At first he says nothing, then he just nods defeated and replies, “I was just trying to be a friend, you know.”
She’s really making mistake after mistake today. She’s been too hard on him. She let the strain and the anxiety over Evan’s fate get the better of her. Trying to calm herself down, she takes a deep breath and looks at Carson. “I know. And I’m… sorry.” He nods, but she can still see that her outburst didn’t leave him untouched. “Look, it’s just…“ It dawns on her that it might not be a good idea to tell him how much this is affecting her when she just told him that this is the last thing she should be doing. “We’ll talk about this, okay? When we’re back, I’ll talk the mess hall crew into fixing you some… what did you call it? Oh right, hattit kit. Well, I’ll talk them into fixing it and we’ll talk?” She’s babbling, she knows that much, but obviously something in her rambling amused him because a little half-smile appears on his face.
“You’ll never learn how to pronounce it correctly, will you, love?” She wants to answer something, but in that moment the door is opened again and a disturbingly happily grinning Mr. Evil tosses a barely conscious Evan into the room. The minute he hits the floor with a suppressed groan Carson is on his feet, even faster than her. It’s quite an achievement actually, considering Carson’s hands are still bound behind his back.
The doctor in Carson - and the medic in Meyers, for that matter - make them forget their bound hands and want to attend to the wounded. Mr. Evil, though, obviously has something else on his mind. He quickly steps between Carson and Evan. Big mistake, she thinks. As much as you shouldn’t get between the Nazgul and its prey, you shouldn’t get between a medic and his patient.
“Ah, not so unaffected now, are we, doctor?” She wants to wipe this smug sneer from his face so very, very much, and a short look towards Meyers tells her that he’s just waiting for her signal to do so, but all she does is giving him a shake of her head. She’s the only one with her hands free, and Evan is lying dangerously near to the fire. Starting a fight now would very probably get him caught in the cross-fire and she wants to avoid getting anyone of them hurt any further. It’s only now that she starts to really understand Evan’s reasoning. Yeah, she scolds herself, great thinking, Lieutenant. Only took your CO getting beaten up to get this through your thick skull.
“I’m just wondering how you expect me to conduct my research with a damaged test subject.” Whoa. Two years in Michael’s claws have done… a lot to Carson. Well, it must be these two years, because she refuses to think that this boldness may come from him not being the original Carson. At least it helps her that she can see he’s not comfortable in his role and needs to put quite some effort into appearing absolutely cold.
“Oh. You just succeeded in surprising me. Well, then… let’s just say that I needed him in this condition. I need to work on the drug’s healing factor, and he’s in the perfect state for testing now. He will be even more so in a few hours time, I think.” She fervently hopes that this means he hasn’t been injected with anything yet.
“He’ll be dead in a few hours, if you don’t let me work on him now.” Come on, she begs Mr. Evil in her mind, come on, take the bait.
“Ah, I’m sure, your pretty girl soldier over there can continue playing nurse for a little while longer.” No, she can’t. She can’t even look at Evan’s unmoving figure. How is she supposed to take care of him?
“I’m ‘fraid not. These soldiers… the only thing they can do is shoot and bark out orders. They’re good for nothing else.” Is she just imagining it or is part of Carson’s dismay real?
“Oh, I can think of something the little girl could be good for…” insert dirty look towards her here, “but that will have to later.” That will have to wait for all eternity, you bastard, is all she can think of at this moment. “Very well. Let’s make a deal… I let you make sure this one won’t die within the next hours and you will help me with me research.” Her first impulse is to shout at Carson not to jump into this deal with the devil, but then of course she realizes that if Carson agrees, he will be finally unbound again and he might have the chance to see more of this compound and be able to tell them if there might be an escape road. So now she wants to shout at him to bloody take the deal and use it.
“Alright. But I might need help. Unbind this man and allow him to help me.” Carson jerks his chin towards Meyers, and she silently slaps him on the back. If… when they make it through this, she really owes him a ton of Scottish food and some really good whiskey. And babysitting his turtles once or twice.
“Ah, ah, how stupid do you think I am?” Carson raises his chin, and something in the change of his posture makes him look bigger than he really is.
“You want me to help you, you take off the bindings.” It always amazes her how much of a lion he can become when someone is denying him giving someone medical assistance. It’s one of the things that once upon a time made her fall in love with him, and even though these feelings have dissipated now, it still impresses her.
“Well… sometimes you have to compromise… how about I take this man’s bindings off, but don’t allow him out of this cozy little cave?” Instead of answering, Carson suddenly sneaks her a look. She realizes that her little speech did something to him. It made him realize that she’s the one in charge now. He asks her for authorization to enter into this. Without another hesitation, she nods, hoping Carson knows what do to while in this guy’s lab or whatever he calls his research facility.
With that, Mr. Evil - can’t that stupid bastard of a bad guy just tell them his name? It’s not as if they’re in a position to sprout it all over the galaxy, anyway - walks over to Meyers, who looks as if he needs every ounce of strength not to jump the man and cuts him lose. His last words before disappearing again have a strange ring to them, as he says, “You’ve got twenty minutes, Doctor. Make the best of them.”
Immediately, all of them scramble towards Evan. As they all crouch down around him, he finally coughs and mutters something sounding like, “Thanks for all the… attention, people, but I’m… fine.” This is just too much for her. She doesn’t know whether to slap him, kiss him or dissolve into hysterical laughter.
So in the end she opts for a simple growled, “The hell you are,” which is seconded by Carson who instantaneously motions her to kneel behind Evan to rest his head on her thighs, while Carson and Meyers carefully maneuver him on his back.
“Listen, all of you…” Without thinking she puts her hand on his mouth, knowing he won’t shut up if she didn’t. He wants to move his hand to remove the offending fingers from his mouth, but Meyers is fast enough to get a grip on it. Carson starts to work on him, fast, professional, accurate. He pushes up the shirt, and that motion alone makes Evan groan with pain. Maybe it’s this which distracts her too much, but suddenly she feels his teeth in her hand and automatically pulls it away.
“I said… listen. God, Doc, would you mind go looking for some damn painkillers?” The bastard. He deliberately bit her.
“And administer them with what, son?” Carson mutters, while he goes on carefully prodding the impossibly colored skin on Evan’s chest. Each prod is immediately followed by groaning and suppressed cussing - she’d never have thought Evan to have such a foul mouth… he even manages to slip in some Spanish and, from the sound of it, French cussing - and Carson’s face growing graver and graver.
“Holy Mother of God, what the bloody hell did that bugger do to you?” And now Carson’s accent starts to slip, which is never a good sign. She really wants to keep up hope and everything, and of course appear totally in charge of all her emotions, but as if by itself, her left hand has gone from solely supporting Evan’s head to stroke his forehead and his cheek to distract him and calm him down.
“You… don’t want to know. Jesus Christ, Doc! There have to be some oral painkillers in that damn bag of yours! And add some stims while you’re at it.” Carson sighs and then signals Meyers to get the medpac.
“I doubt any of this will seriously help you, but since you’re begging for it…” Evan actually manages to glare at Carson, what with his black eye and the lacerations all over his face. Carson, quite unfazed, just gives Evan the painkillers and stims he’s been asking for.
Swallowing them seems to be quite an effort, but she attributes that to the fact that he’s still lying down. “I wasn’t begging. You were torturing me. Anyway… I want you to listen now. And keep that hand away… from my mouth, Laura. I quite like it where it is now.” Oh. She hasn’t seen that one coming. A little embarrassed she finds herself staring at aforementioned hand lying on his forehead. Painkillerstalkingpainkillerstalkingpainkillerstalking, is the only thought rotating in her head, conveniently forgetting that he probably hasn’t even fully swallowed them yet.
But at least she’s focused enough that she can wrench a grumbled “I can’t imagine why.” from herself. Something in that must have been amusing, because it actually makes him taking the pain to form a smile.
He becomes serious very fast, though, trying to ignore Carson administering a provisional bandage around his ribcage. “There’s… three more rooms behind that door. One… lab, two… testing room, three… probably storage. Storage… is to the right, directly… after the door. Good place for the… weapons and equipment. Door… can only be opened from the other side. And… lab looks pretty sophisticated. You got all that?” That’s… nearly impossible. He actually managed to take in as much intel as he could, even though he knew he’d probably gotten beating into submission.
But thank God at least she finally has found her voice again. “Yes, sir.” He nods.
“Good. Because it’s up to you now to find us a way out of here.” Whee, great… except not. If he’s so ready to put such a huge chunk of his responsibility into her hands, something must be seriously wrong. She doesn’t want to, but she needs to know Carson’s prognosis now.
“Once in a lifetime opportunity for me.” She doesn’t wait for Evan to comment on her apparent lack of optimism, but addresses Carson. “Alright… what do you think?” He passes her a look that says very clearly that he does not want to discuss this in front of the patient.
“Don’t even think about… dragging her off to a corner, Doc. I think, I can take it like a man.” Again, one of these comments she wants to hit him for. Doesn’t he get it? This is not the place and the time to make quips like these.
“Alright. I think, apart from the heave bruising and the lacerations… you broke at least one rib, and it’s possible that your lung has been punctured. I can’t rule out other inner bleeding either. You still have your spleen, Major?” Evan just shakes his head. Well, that’s interesting… She realizes that there are a fair number of things she still doesn’t know about him and fervently hopes that she’ll be able to ask him about this, when all of this is over. “Your luck. It sure would have been ruptured now.” Carson sighs, and then looks at her and Meyers. “You need to monitor him while I’m away. If he starts coughing up blood… I might have to… well…” Ask Mr. Evil for some enzyme to keep him alive. But didn’t they agree on not letting anyone of them become corrupted by it?
“Perform emergency surgery, right?” Meyers helpfully supplies, effectually avoiding the topic none of them wants to talk about.
“Aye.” She looks down at Evan, and he finally looks her in the eye. Both of them know that they won’t let it come to letting anyone near him with a syringe full of enzyme. For the first time in quite a while she’s positive that she knows exactly what he’s trying to tell her. It’s definitely something along the lines of “I trust you not to let anyone inject me with that stuff.” As a confirmation, she simply traces his cheek with her thump, making him close his eyes.
As painful as all of this is, she actually wants this moment to last. For the first time in two weeks she doesn’t feel like a total loser at interpersonal relationships anymore, and she can even forgive herself a little for that stupid stunt on the balcony. Showing her that he still trusts her with this small gesture did more for her faith in their friendship than a thousand words could have done.
But of course fate doesn’t want her to have any “moments” and decides to make this the minute Mr. Evil is back. “Now, isn’t this a cute little scene? I’m tempted to pull out some cloth to wipe the tears from my eyes.”
This guy is surely starting to grate on her nerves. If it wasn’t for Evan’s head on her thigh and the standing orders not to do anything… but it is, and so she forces herself to keep her trap shut and let Carson do the talking. “And while you’re busy being sentimental, I would like to get this over with.”
“Your eagerness surely speaks for you, Doctor. Well, then… it would be a shame to waste any more time, wouldn’t it?” And with that Carson gets up, not without giving Meyers some last minute advice. If they make it through this, she thinks, she doesn’t only owe Carson some big favors, but also Meyers. She already has the text for her recommendation nearly fully formulated in her head.
Then Carson is gone and she orders Meyers to retire and catch on some sleep. Something tells her that she’ll need him awake later. He’s a little reluctant, so she assures him that she’ll wake him up immediately if she needs any assistance and then makes it quite clear that she wasn’t suggesting him to go sleep, but ordering him.
When he’s wandered off into his corner, it’s only Evan and her again. At first it looks like he’s already passed out, but after a few labored breaths, he starts talking again. “Laura, if I don’t make it back…”
She doesn’t want to hear this. And anyway, this is Major Evan Lorne, kick-ass soldier who never gives up. So all she says is a rather gruff, “Shut the hell up.”
As of now, she doesn’t even care about the fact that this is still her CO. Doesn’t keep him from continuing whatever he wanted to say. “No, listen, if I don’t…”
Alright, she’s had it now. “Hey, you wouldn’t let me tell you I’m sorry for being a brat in that underground shelter, so I think it’s only fair I won’t let you tell me some unnecessary last words now.”
A strange sound escapes his throat. It takes a moment to identify it as laughter. “God, Laura, stop doing that. And you… certainly have a point there…” He’s becoming serious again, shortly closing his eyes and taking a deep rattling breath. Can’t he just stop talking? “But I’m saying this as your CO now. If I don’t make it through this… I want you to be the one to deliver my dog tags to my family.”
This… is among the last things she expected to hear now. It makes her uncomfortable and wanting to be a million light years away. “Evan, I…”
“Promise me, Laura.” He really means it. He wants her to be the one walking up to his parents’ house and tell them of the heroic death their son died for their planet… country. Theoretically, of course. Not that this is going to happen anyway. But she owes him an answer.
“Right. I promise. But just for the record: this is stupid, because all of us will make it back. No more discussions about this.”
Again laughing, followed by some pained groaning. “Stop making me laugh, goddammit. And your ego sure is too big for that of a Lieutenant.”
Finally. That’s the Evan she knows. A little snarky, a little snappy, even in sticky situations. That’s something she can handle, something she knows how to play along. “There’s a regulation about the size of egos according to ranks?”
“I remember reading a memo on that, yes. Maybe… it’s about time… you make Captain. To accommodate this inflated ego of yours, I mean.” Oh, that was a good one. It helps her believe that things can’t be that bad, if he’s still maintained his sense of humor.
“Well, that’s not my decision now, is it?” She manages to look a little mock-disgruntled. It prompts a smile from him.
“Good point. Laura?” Aw, come on, even more last words?
“What?”
“I think… you’d really get on great with my sister.” He even manages to grin. What the? She decides better not to ask what he meant with this. Better just keep playing along with it.
“I’m sure we’ll find another way of finding that out than me bringing her your dog tags. Evan?” Ha. Now it’s her turn to confuse him a little.
“Mh?”
“Where the hell did you learn how to cuss in French?” Actually, that’s something she really wants to know.
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Alright, so much for her confusing him. But before she can scold him, he closes his eyes again and adds a slurred, “And now… I think I’m finally going to pass out.”