One Busted Up Christmas
Title: One Busted Up Christmas
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating:PG
Orientation: Slash
Word Count: 1,314
Prompt: Cotton Candy Bingo: Accident
Notes:Happy Holidays for
a_blackpanther
“I got a call that there was an accident...” Sliding aside a tiny aluminum Christmas tree on the top of the desk, Rodney leaned over the edge of reception stand as the nurse looked up at him.
“Your friend or family member’s name?”
“John Sheppard. I’m his emergency contact.” Apparently, John hadn’t changed the contact card in his wallet. Luckily, Rodney still had the same cell phone number, nearly a year after he had last seen John. He had been afraid to change it, just in case John forgave him and wanted to call.
The nurse typed into her computer and then nodded. “Are you Mister Sheppard-McKay?”
“Doctor Sheppard-McKay, yes, I am.” John REALLY hadn’t changed his information.
The nurse pointed down the hallway. “ICU, take the elevator, go to the reception desk down there, they will show you to the bedside.” ICU? At her words, Rodney felt a mild wave of panic, but he tamped it down. He rushed down the hallway, and jabbed his finger on the elevator button, waiting impatiently. He hated hospitals. He hated hospitals even more than he hated doctors.
The nurse checked his ID and then led him to a curtained off area. “A doctor will be by to discuss your... husband’s...?” At Rodney’s stiff nod she continued, “... Condition.”
“How bad is it?”
The nurse gave him a comforting look. “It could be far worse. He’s been unconscious since they brought him in.”
Rodney nodded and moved to the side of the bed. He reached through the rail and gently clasped John’s hand. He blinked as his eyes grew hot and began to itch. John’s face was a mass of bruises and his head was heavily bandaged. His right arm was bandaged and braced, probably broken. Rodney could only imagine how bad the injuries he couldn’t see might be, hidden under the blanket.
“What did you do to yourself, John?” Aside from the injuries, John looked terrible, he was thin, too thin, even for John. His cheeks seemed sunken in. His hair was limp, and far longer than Rodney had ever seen him wear it, even after John had retired from the Air Force.
The doctor came in and told Rodney about John’s injuries, and told him he should be able to get a copy of the crash report from the local police department, to get the details of the accident. They were concerned about his slow return to consciousness, his injuries were extensive, but only the head injury was severe enough to be considered life threatening and that was the reason he was in the intensive care unit. As usual, the doctor remained as non-committal as he possibly could. He recited the facts but would not say if John would be alright or not.
Listening to the voodoo jargon, Rodney thanked the doctor and slumped down into the seat beside the bed. “You always drove too fast. I told you this would happen. You can’t fly a car, Sheppard.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he dropped his face into his hands. He looked up suddenly and snapped, “Don’t you dare die on me. I’m not done arguing with you yet!”
He sat there for two hours, simply staring at John, not thinking. Everything within him just shut down. The next time a doctor came, he looked at the chart, at the machines and at John and frowned. He went away and a herd of them came back.
“I’m Doctor Jacobi, are you the next of kin?”
Rodney hated how that sounded, so... final. “Yes,” he answered simply.
The doctor launched into an explanation of why they needed to do surgery on John. Brain surgery, to relieve the pressure on his brain. Rodney had never wished for Carson Beckett to be there more than he had in those minutes. He signed the forms and they wheeled John away to surgery.
He sat in a cold, hard chair and waited while they operated. Had he done the right thing, letting them cut into John like this? Should he have called someone he knew to run it by them before signing that form? It was too late now. He pulled out his cell phone and called Jeannie. She was very sympathetic and soothing, she told him he had done what was best for John, based on what the Doctors had said to Rodney. Then he called John’s brother Dave and told him about the accident. Dave said he could be there in two days. He didn’t have much else to say to him, so that call was brief.
After hanging up with Jeannie and Dave, he sat and worried. How had they come to this? How could he not know that John had been in town? The last he heard, Sheppard had been clear across the continent, doing consultant work for the SGC. How could he have been so stubborn? Seeing John like this made all the arguments seem so pointless and unimportant. He should have relented, he should have apologized.
It was hours before they brought John back, and they made Rodney leave after a brief peek at him. His head was all bandaged and he looked horrible. He didn’t sleep well that night.
The next day, he sat beside John’s bed again, going over and over where their relationship had gone wrong, what had been said, what could be forgiven. What was best left forgotten.
After sitting there lost in thought for quite a long while, while nurses came and went, checking the machines and making notes on the chart, he reached for John’s hand and squeezed it, the first time he had been able to bring himself to touch John. “I’m sorry, John. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I was wrong about some things. I shouldn’t have walked out.”
John squeezed his hand. When Rodney looked up at his face, John’s eyes were open, though he looked dazed. “Rodney,” John mouthed silently.
“Hey, you’re awake!” Rodney scooted his chair closer to the bed as a couple of machines began to make new noises.
“Wha’ happen?”
“You were in a car wreck, they had to operate on your head.”
Looking around at the hospital room, John frowned and mumbled, “This sucks.”
“Yeah. What are you doing in town, John?”
“Came... see you. Christmas,” he replied.
To see him? “I was thinking of going to see you for New Year’s, actually. I hate this, John. I was wrong, if you want to fly, then you should fly. My work isn’t more important. And you’re right, I was being a jerk to our friends and my sister again. I shouldn’t have moved out. I hate being apart, I hate being angry with each other.”
John squeezed his hand. “Me too. Start over? Clean slate?”
Leaning over the bed, Rodney kissed John’s forehead, then his cheek, then carefully kissed his lips, avoiding the cut there. “Yeah. Let’s do that. We’ll talk to that counselor like you wanted. I miss you, I want you back and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Smiling at Rodney’s words, John closed his eyes and settled back against the pillow. The nurses came in and Rodney was pushed out of John’s bed area as they pulled the curtain closed around him for privacy while they did their voodoo rituals. He stood against the wall across the way and breathed deeply, calm for the first time in a long time. The pain in his gut that had been plaguing him for months, almost a year, had begun to fade. John had come back to him, was willing to forgive him. He was banged up and a little broken, but Rodney was confident he would heal.
Everything was going to be okay now, Rodney was certain of it. He smiled and began to hum along with the Christmas muzak being piped through the overhead speakers.
The End Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating:PG
Orientation: Slash
Word Count: 1,314
Prompt: Cotton Candy Bingo: Accident
Notes:Happy Holidays for
a_blackpanther
“I got a call that there was an accident...” Sliding aside a tiny aluminum Christmas tree on the top of the desk, Rodney leaned over the edge of reception stand as the nurse looked up at him.
“Your friend or family member’s name?”
“John Sheppard. I’m his emergency contact.” Apparently, John hadn’t changed the contact card in his wallet. Luckily, Rodney still had the same cell phone number, nearly a year after he had last seen John. He had been afraid to change it, just in case John forgave him and wanted to call.
The nurse typed into her computer and then nodded. “Are you Mister Sheppard-McKay?”
“Doctor Sheppard-McKay, yes, I am.” John REALLY hadn’t changed his information.
The nurse pointed down the hallway. “ICU, take the elevator, go to the reception desk down there, they will show you to the bedside.” ICU? At her words, Rodney felt a mild wave of panic, but he tamped it down. He rushed down the hallway, and jabbed his finger on the elevator button, waiting impatiently. He hated hospitals. He hated hospitals even more than he hated doctors.
The nurse checked his ID and then led him to a curtained off area. “A doctor will be by to discuss your... husband’s...?” At Rodney’s stiff nod she continued, “... Condition.”
“How bad is it?”
The nurse gave him a comforting look. “It could be far worse. He’s been unconscious since they brought him in.”
Rodney nodded and moved to the side of the bed. He reached through the rail and gently clasped John’s hand. He blinked as his eyes grew hot and began to itch. John’s face was a mass of bruises and his head was heavily bandaged. His right arm was bandaged and braced, probably broken. Rodney could only imagine how bad the injuries he couldn’t see might be, hidden under the blanket.
“What did you do to yourself, John?” Aside from the injuries, John looked terrible, he was thin, too thin, even for John. His cheeks seemed sunken in. His hair was limp, and far longer than Rodney had ever seen him wear it, even after John had retired from the Air Force.
The doctor came in and told Rodney about John’s injuries, and told him he should be able to get a copy of the crash report from the local police department, to get the details of the accident. They were concerned about his slow return to consciousness, his injuries were extensive, but only the head injury was severe enough to be considered life threatening and that was the reason he was in the intensive care unit. As usual, the doctor remained as non-committal as he possibly could. He recited the facts but would not say if John would be alright or not.
Listening to the voodoo jargon, Rodney thanked the doctor and slumped down into the seat beside the bed. “You always drove too fast. I told you this would happen. You can’t fly a car, Sheppard.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he dropped his face into his hands. He looked up suddenly and snapped, “Don’t you dare die on me. I’m not done arguing with you yet!”
He sat there for two hours, simply staring at John, not thinking. Everything within him just shut down. The next time a doctor came, he looked at the chart, at the machines and at John and frowned. He went away and a herd of them came back.
“I’m Doctor Jacobi, are you the next of kin?”
Rodney hated how that sounded, so... final. “Yes,” he answered simply.
The doctor launched into an explanation of why they needed to do surgery on John. Brain surgery, to relieve the pressure on his brain. Rodney had never wished for Carson Beckett to be there more than he had in those minutes. He signed the forms and they wheeled John away to surgery.
He sat in a cold, hard chair and waited while they operated. Had he done the right thing, letting them cut into John like this? Should he have called someone he knew to run it by them before signing that form? It was too late now. He pulled out his cell phone and called Jeannie. She was very sympathetic and soothing, she told him he had done what was best for John, based on what the Doctors had said to Rodney. Then he called John’s brother Dave and told him about the accident. Dave said he could be there in two days. He didn’t have much else to say to him, so that call was brief.
After hanging up with Jeannie and Dave, he sat and worried. How had they come to this? How could he not know that John had been in town? The last he heard, Sheppard had been clear across the continent, doing consultant work for the SGC. How could he have been so stubborn? Seeing John like this made all the arguments seem so pointless and unimportant. He should have relented, he should have apologized.
It was hours before they brought John back, and they made Rodney leave after a brief peek at him. His head was all bandaged and he looked horrible. He didn’t sleep well that night.
The next day, he sat beside John’s bed again, going over and over where their relationship had gone wrong, what had been said, what could be forgiven. What was best left forgotten.
After sitting there lost in thought for quite a long while, while nurses came and went, checking the machines and making notes on the chart, he reached for John’s hand and squeezed it, the first time he had been able to bring himself to touch John. “I’m sorry, John. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I was wrong about some things. I shouldn’t have walked out.”
John squeezed his hand. When Rodney looked up at his face, John’s eyes were open, though he looked dazed. “Rodney,” John mouthed silently.
“Hey, you’re awake!” Rodney scooted his chair closer to the bed as a couple of machines began to make new noises.
“Wha’ happen?”
“You were in a car wreck, they had to operate on your head.”
Looking around at the hospital room, John frowned and mumbled, “This sucks.”
“Yeah. What are you doing in town, John?”
“Came... see you. Christmas,” he replied.
To see him? “I was thinking of going to see you for New Year’s, actually. I hate this, John. I was wrong, if you want to fly, then you should fly. My work isn’t more important. And you’re right, I was being a jerk to our friends and my sister again. I shouldn’t have moved out. I hate being apart, I hate being angry with each other.”
John squeezed his hand. “Me too. Start over? Clean slate?”
Leaning over the bed, Rodney kissed John’s forehead, then his cheek, then carefully kissed his lips, avoiding the cut there. “Yeah. Let’s do that. We’ll talk to that counselor like you wanted. I miss you, I want you back and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Smiling at Rodney’s words, John closed his eyes and settled back against the pillow. The nurses came in and Rodney was pushed out of John’s bed area as they pulled the curtain closed around him for privacy while they did their voodoo rituals. He stood against the wall across the way and breathed deeply, calm for the first time in a long time. The pain in his gut that had been plaguing him for months, almost a year, had begun to fade. John had come back to him, was willing to forgive him. He was banged up and a little broken, but Rodney was confident he would heal.
Everything was going to be okay now, Rodney was certain of it. He smiled and began to hum along with the Christmas muzak being piped through the overhead speakers.
The End Originally posted at http://rinkafic.dreamwidth.org/