Condemned Tag: Infirmary Interlude
Frustrations aside, here's a fic :D
Title: Infirmary Interlude
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Eldon.
Summary: An infirmary scene, plain and simple. WRitten for tinypenny who wanted a condemend tag and Sheppard with a shoulder injury. Whump tag one out of five I plan to whip up every weekend. Though edited twice, this story is not beta'd, you have been warn.
Condemned Tag: Infirmary Interlude
It wasn't John's fault he just happened to have a high threshold for pain, and definitely not his fault that, combined with adrenaline, pain was non-existent. And it was even most definitely not his fault that he'd been in a high-stress situation that demanded he ignored any pain tossed his way. He'd known something was off when he'd climbed to his feet after the dive through the 'gate - high thresholds and adrenaline couldn't mask everything - and had sense enough to keep his arm as immobile as possible against his side while heading to the infirmary.
So when Carson let lose a tirade of reprimands concerning strained ligaments, pulled muscles and a cracked collar bone, John felt thoroughly justified in his reactions.
“Yeah, doc, I'll keep all that in mind the next time convicts capture me and Wraith try to blow me up. Because ligaments are so much more damn important than my life.”
Carson deflated on a sigh. “Sorry. I'm sorry lad. I'm not a field medic. I'm used to seeing this kind of damage from daft idiots not in a position to ignore common sense. You really are bloody lucky this won't take surgery to fix, but that means wearing a sling for a while.”
“I'll live with it,” John groused. He was tired, dirty, bruised, hungry, cold because he was sans a shirt and despite scans and X-rays telling Carson everything he needed to know, the Scott still insisted on man-handling John's shoulder in uncomfortable ways. “I'll take a sling over crutches any day.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ronon sitting back on the neighboring bed. Nurse Jennings had the leg of his pants slit open to the knee and was cleaning the wound. For being five foot and petite as a child, she was a rock. Whenever Ronon tried to bat her hands away, she batted right back - harder.
Across from Ronon was Teyla, now behind a curtain. Rodney, who'd been in the neighboring bed, had been released with instructions to eat and rest. On the other side of the empty bed was another curtained area where John assumed Eldon was.
John was pulled from his observations with a wince when Carson started prodding at the bruises on the rest of his body, specifically the mottled mess on his chest and a line of discomfort across his back; right where that damn stick had been digging into his spine.
“Damn it, Carson, you took X-rays. You said nothing was broken.”
“Aye, Nothing is. That still leaves the matter of swelling and you don't want that happening over your spine. We should ice this area. Nurse?”
“Yes, doctor.”
Because both doctor and nurse were behind John, he couldn't see what they were doing, and yelped when what felt like an ice block touched his back.
“Damn it! I didn't see you icing Rodney's back.”
“Neither did you see me give him an ice pack, apparently,” said Carson. “The whole lot of you are getting iced, so quit your whining.”
“No. Next time, warn a guy.”
The nurse held the pack, moving it along the needed locations, as Carson settled John first into a scrub shirt then into a sling, demonstrating to John how to strap it on. In that time, John heard the hiss of metal rings on a pole, and watched Teyla leave, throwing a promise to see them at lunch after she cleaned up over her shoulder.
John looked back at Carson and gave him a tight smirk. “I'm not a stranger to this, Doc.”
Carson snorted. “Aye, that you're not. What do you think that says about you?” There seemed to be a mix of humor touched by genuine curiosity in his light tone. It made John's grin turn rueful.
“That I'm doing my job.”
Finished, Carson gave his good shoulder a gentle pat. “I'll be sending you off with a plastic sling you can use in the shower. Not as comfortable as the cloth ones but you won't have to worry about doing your arm more harm.” He handed John the sling.
“Cool. So am I free to go?”
Carson then handed him a bottle of pills. “For the pain. Make sure you take them. And, yes, now you're free to go.”
“Great, I'm starved.” John slid carefully off the bed so as not to jar his shoulder. “You should be happy, doc. I'm heading straight to the mess.”
Carson chuckled. “You must be starved if you're willing to parade around in a scrub shirt and dirt just to eat.”
“You have no idea.” He turned to tell Ronon, only to face an empty bed. John scowled. “You could cover him with bells and still not know he'd moved.”
Carson sighed, shaking his head. “I saw the daft bugger slip out with the crutches under his arm. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was actually afraid of Angela.” He chuckled softly at that. “If you see him, you tell him that I'm gonna tell Angie if he isn't using his crutches.”
The curtains of the only bed still occupied were pulled aside. Eldon was sitting on the edge, stripped down to shirt and pants but not his cap. The nurse who'd been examining him joined Carson and the two huddled together, discussing the results. Standing just on the other side of Eldon's bed was a marine, and according to the way Eldon's eyes darted back and forth like a nervous hummingbird, the guy was making him nervous.
“What's the verdict on our guest?” John said, slinging his shirt over his shoulder.
“A little malnourished, a little bruised and battered. X-rays show some old breaks, all of them healed. Other than that, no diseases or the like so no need to quarantine him.”
John nodded, watching Eldon. Without the excess layers of clothes, the guy looked small and completely lost. But whether he was scared or not, John couldn't tell. The guy had been twitchy the moment they'd met him. Still, it was probably safe to bet that he was. John headed toward him.
“Hey Eldon.”
The little guy stiffened for all of two seconds then resumed fidgeting. “Y-yes?”
John waved him over. “Get your stuff. Come with me.”
Eldon didn't hesitate gathering the layers he'd shed and scurrying after John. When the marine started to follow, John waved him off.
“Wh-where are we going?” Eldon asked.
“It's called the mess hall. It's where we go to get something to eat. And when we're done, we'll find you some quarters you can stay in. You can get cleaned up, take a nap. Sound good?”
Eldon nodded, eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “Uh-huh!”
John smiled. “Awesome.”
The End
Title: Infirmary Interlude
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Eldon.
Summary: An infirmary scene, plain and simple. WRitten for tinypenny who wanted a condemend tag and Sheppard with a shoulder injury. Whump tag one out of five I plan to whip up every weekend. Though edited twice, this story is not beta'd, you have been warn.
Condemned Tag: Infirmary Interlude
It wasn't John's fault he just happened to have a high threshold for pain, and definitely not his fault that, combined with adrenaline, pain was non-existent. And it was even most definitely not his fault that he'd been in a high-stress situation that demanded he ignored any pain tossed his way. He'd known something was off when he'd climbed to his feet after the dive through the 'gate - high thresholds and adrenaline couldn't mask everything - and had sense enough to keep his arm as immobile as possible against his side while heading to the infirmary.
So when Carson let lose a tirade of reprimands concerning strained ligaments, pulled muscles and a cracked collar bone, John felt thoroughly justified in his reactions.
“Yeah, doc, I'll keep all that in mind the next time convicts capture me and Wraith try to blow me up. Because ligaments are so much more damn important than my life.”
Carson deflated on a sigh. “Sorry. I'm sorry lad. I'm not a field medic. I'm used to seeing this kind of damage from daft idiots not in a position to ignore common sense. You really are bloody lucky this won't take surgery to fix, but that means wearing a sling for a while.”
“I'll live with it,” John groused. He was tired, dirty, bruised, hungry, cold because he was sans a shirt and despite scans and X-rays telling Carson everything he needed to know, the Scott still insisted on man-handling John's shoulder in uncomfortable ways. “I'll take a sling over crutches any day.” He glanced over his shoulder at Ronon sitting back on the neighboring bed. Nurse Jennings had the leg of his pants slit open to the knee and was cleaning the wound. For being five foot and petite as a child, she was a rock. Whenever Ronon tried to bat her hands away, she batted right back - harder.
Across from Ronon was Teyla, now behind a curtain. Rodney, who'd been in the neighboring bed, had been released with instructions to eat and rest. On the other side of the empty bed was another curtained area where John assumed Eldon was.
John was pulled from his observations with a wince when Carson started prodding at the bruises on the rest of his body, specifically the mottled mess on his chest and a line of discomfort across his back; right where that damn stick had been digging into his spine.
“Damn it, Carson, you took X-rays. You said nothing was broken.”
“Aye, Nothing is. That still leaves the matter of swelling and you don't want that happening over your spine. We should ice this area. Nurse?”
“Yes, doctor.”
Because both doctor and nurse were behind John, he couldn't see what they were doing, and yelped when what felt like an ice block touched his back.
“Damn it! I didn't see you icing Rodney's back.”
“Neither did you see me give him an ice pack, apparently,” said Carson. “The whole lot of you are getting iced, so quit your whining.”
“No. Next time, warn a guy.”
The nurse held the pack, moving it along the needed locations, as Carson settled John first into a scrub shirt then into a sling, demonstrating to John how to strap it on. In that time, John heard the hiss of metal rings on a pole, and watched Teyla leave, throwing a promise to see them at lunch after she cleaned up over her shoulder.
John looked back at Carson and gave him a tight smirk. “I'm not a stranger to this, Doc.”
Carson snorted. “Aye, that you're not. What do you think that says about you?” There seemed to be a mix of humor touched by genuine curiosity in his light tone. It made John's grin turn rueful.
“That I'm doing my job.”
Finished, Carson gave his good shoulder a gentle pat. “I'll be sending you off with a plastic sling you can use in the shower. Not as comfortable as the cloth ones but you won't have to worry about doing your arm more harm.” He handed John the sling.
“Cool. So am I free to go?”
Carson then handed him a bottle of pills. “For the pain. Make sure you take them. And, yes, now you're free to go.”
“Great, I'm starved.” John slid carefully off the bed so as not to jar his shoulder. “You should be happy, doc. I'm heading straight to the mess.”
Carson chuckled. “You must be starved if you're willing to parade around in a scrub shirt and dirt just to eat.”
“You have no idea.” He turned to tell Ronon, only to face an empty bed. John scowled. “You could cover him with bells and still not know he'd moved.”
Carson sighed, shaking his head. “I saw the daft bugger slip out with the crutches under his arm. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was actually afraid of Angela.” He chuckled softly at that. “If you see him, you tell him that I'm gonna tell Angie if he isn't using his crutches.”
The curtains of the only bed still occupied were pulled aside. Eldon was sitting on the edge, stripped down to shirt and pants but not his cap. The nurse who'd been examining him joined Carson and the two huddled together, discussing the results. Standing just on the other side of Eldon's bed was a marine, and according to the way Eldon's eyes darted back and forth like a nervous hummingbird, the guy was making him nervous.
“What's the verdict on our guest?” John said, slinging his shirt over his shoulder.
“A little malnourished, a little bruised and battered. X-rays show some old breaks, all of them healed. Other than that, no diseases or the like so no need to quarantine him.”
John nodded, watching Eldon. Without the excess layers of clothes, the guy looked small and completely lost. But whether he was scared or not, John couldn't tell. The guy had been twitchy the moment they'd met him. Still, it was probably safe to bet that he was. John headed toward him.
“Hey Eldon.”
The little guy stiffened for all of two seconds then resumed fidgeting. “Y-yes?”
John waved him over. “Get your stuff. Come with me.”
Eldon didn't hesitate gathering the layers he'd shed and scurrying after John. When the marine started to follow, John waved him off.
“Wh-where are we going?” Eldon asked.
“It's called the mess hall. It's where we go to get something to eat. And when we're done, we'll find you some quarters you can stay in. You can get cleaned up, take a nap. Sound good?”
Eldon nodded, eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “Uh-huh!”
John smiled. “Awesome.”
The End