Fic: "Slip of the Knife" by kyrdwyn [Sheppard/Beckett, PG-13]
1. Allergic Reaction
"All That Matters"-PG
2. Amputation
"Finding Balance"-R
3. Broken Bone
4. Bruises
"Every Quiet Moment"-PG
5. Cancer
"At Any Cost" PG
6. Cold/flu/fever
"Fever" - PG (Sheppard/Beckett UST)
[Sequel to "Lucy",followed by "Match"]
7. Concussion
"Head Trauma and Halos"-R
8. Crushing Injury
9. Drowning
10. Electric Shock
11. Frostbite/hypothermia
"Cold Warmth"-R
12. Heat exhaustion/stroke
13. Infection
"Convergence"- R
14. Minor annoyances - papercut, hangnail,
stubbed toe, motion sickness
15. Neurological disorder - epilepsy, spinal cord
damage, stroke, migraines,
clinical depression...
16. Puncture/Laceration - bullet wounds,
stabbing, impalement
"Slip of the Knife"-PG-13
17. Psychological trauma
18. Sensory loss/impairment
19. Skin disorders - boils, pox, rash, poison ivy...
20. Sleep disorders - sleep dep, narcolepsy,
jet lag, snoring
"Waking Nightmare"-PG
21. Sprained or Strained muscle
22. Surgery (routine) - tonsils, appendix,
plastic surgery
23. Writer's Choice
"Home Treatment" - PG [Burn]
24. Writer's Choice
Title: Slip of the Knife
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Claim: John Sheppard/Carson Beckett
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
2dozenowies Prompt: 16. Puncture/Laceration
Beta: None, all mistakes mine.
Summary: "That," he said crisply, "is a stupid question."
Ronon tried to intervene, but he was just far enough away that he couldn't prevent the injury from happening. Beckett's cry of pain rent the air as the knife sliced through his sleeve and the skin and muscle underneath. Beckett's right hand went to his left arm as Ronon pulled Beckett's sparring partner away roughly.
"I said use the wooden knives," Ronon growled at the soldier.
"I always spar with real equipment!" the man protested.
"Not when your sparring partner is a civilian!" Ronon snapped. He shoved the man away from him and went over to Beckett, who was kneeling on the ground, one of the marines pressing a cloth to the wound.
"How bad?" Ronon asked.
"I'll need stitches," Beckett said through gritted teeth. "I can walk to the infirmary," he said to the marine, who was reaching for his radio.
"I'll go with Beckett," Ronon said. "You take care of him," he jerked his head toward Beckett's sparring partner. The marine nodded, reaching for his radio again to call Major Lorne.
Beckett kept the cloth pressed to the wound as he and Ronon walked to the infirmary. The doctor's jaw was clenched, but he made no sounds of pain.
"You okay?" Ronon asked.
Beckett's eyes slid to Ronon before facing forward again. "That," he said crisply, "is a stupid question. My skin and muscle have been sliced open by a standard-issue k-bar wielded by someone trained to kill other human beings."
"So I take it that's a 'no' then," Ronon asked, hiding his smile when Beckett glared at him.
Luckily for him, they reached the infirmary then. One of the marines had called ahead for them, so the doctor on duty was waiting to take Beckett back to the treatment area. Ronon leaned against one of the empty beds, waiting. From his observations, Beckett was going to need stitches. That would take a while, and Ronon suspected a highly irate and worried Sheppard would be barging through the door at any moment.
He was right - Sheppard came in at a fast walk three minutes after Beckett had been taken for treatment. "What the hell happened?" he snapped at Ronon.
"Someone used real knives when I told them to use the practice ones. Lorne's on it."
Sheppard nodded. "How's Carson?"
"He said he'd probably need stitches. They're working on him now."
Sheppard nodded again, crossing his arms over his chest and looked back at the treatment area. He was trying to look unconcerned, but Ronon knew he was anything but. He wasn't a base commander concerned that one of his men had sliced open a civilian doctor, he was a man concerned about his lover.
"It wasn't near anything vital," Ronon said. "Upper left arm."
Sheppard looked at him, his eyes hard. "He shouldn't have been injured in the first place. Not during a training session."
"Better during a training session than by a Wraith," Ronon shrugged.
Sheppard's expression didn't change. "Carson shouldn't be injured at all."
"Didn't say he should be."
Beckett came out of the treatment area then, his black t-shirt replaced by a white scrub shirt, white bandage wrapped around his upper arm. He saw Sheppard and sighed. "I'm fine, John."
Sheppard quirked an eyebrow. "How bad?"
"I've had worse when a scalpel slipped."
Ronon shook his head. "He's alive, Sheppard."
"Aye," Beckett responded, "and next time I'll dodge the knife."
Sheppard just looked at Beckett steadily. Ronon glanced around the room, noticed they were alone. "Sheppard," he sighed, getting the attention of both men, "he's alive, he's fine. Take him home and take him to bed so you'll quit interrogating him in public."
Sheppard's mouth dropped open and Beckett blushed crimson. Ronon pushed himself away from the bed he'd been leaning against. "I'm going to go make sure that soldier doesn’t mistake a training knife for a real knife again."
Walking away, Ronon glanced over his shoulder. Sheppard already had his hand on Beckett's arm, head bent close to the other man. Ronon grinned. Sheppard and Beckett probably wouldn't leave their quarters until tomorrow morning, at the earliest. Plenty of time for him to put a lot of fear into the idiot that had hurt Beckett.