Word Count:
631
Rating:
PG.
Category:
Hurt/Comfort. Friendship.
Story Status:
Complete
Summary:
All he saw was blue...
Author's Note:
Written for Grey Lupous' birthday 2008!
Beta:
Thank you to Jayne Perry for
the beta-reading.
Blue. All he saw was blue.
Which was weird.
And creepy.
He blinked.
Nope, still blue.
His dazed and fuddled mind slowly made sense of it. Pale blue
fabric, his face mashed down into it.
Okay, if he lifted his head, he wouldn't see just blue anymore, and
that'd be a good thing.
Hmm, he couldn't lift his head.
He should be more worried about that than he was, the thought vaguely
passed through his mind.
He couldn't move anything, oh, except one hand. The right,
no, left one.
Oh. A cave in. No, not a cave. A
building. Fell on him.
He'd been pushed to the ground, one hand thrown in front of him, now
resting out of sight.
Still, he could move it.
That was good.
Movement from beneath the blue. He became aware of a beating
noise speeding up beneath his head. A noise he hadn't noticed
until now.
Blue fabric moving beneath him. He was lying on someone's
back. Why?
Shirt. Blue shirt. Science.
Rodney.
He'd pushed Rodney out of the way, only not enough; Rodney was trapped
beneath him.
A groan, but not from him.
Rodney was waking up.
Only, Rodney didn't wear blue shirts anymore. When had he
started
wearing grey? A while ago, he thought lazily. He
hadn't
really noticed.
A muttered curse. Czech.
Radek.
He'd pushed Radek out of the way. At least, some of the way.
Where was Rodney? Teyla? Ronon?
He blinked. Radek moved, muttering further curses.
There was another groan and the movement stopped. A
pain-filled
voice, distant and yet near, asked him worriedly,
“Colonel?
Are you okay?”
He supposed he should answer.
Only the blue was being replaced with greyness. Darkness
crowding in.
He drifted away from the increasingly anxious voice; away from the blue
and the blossoming pain.
------
Rodney sat in the infirmary, between two beds. One holding
the
sleeping form of his right hand man, bruised, battered and with some
nasty cuts, and the other holding the sleeping form of his team leader,
also bruised, battered and with some nasty cuts, but with cracked ribs,
a broken arm, another puncture wound, this time in his left thigh, and
concussion as well.
It could have been worse, he told himself. Much, much worse.
The tremors had hit unexpectedly, the buildings had started to crumble
and he, along with Ronon and Teyla, had made it out in time.
Radek and John hadn't. Not quite. Though they'd
missed the
worst of it and hadn't been crushed to death under falling rubble.
No more abandoned buildings, he vowed silently to himself.
Not
until the structures were declared safe, the area determined free of
seismic activity and the building checked for booby traps and bombs.
He shuddered, remembering briefly being trapped with Lorne, before
making a concentrated effort to push the feeling of claustrophobia
away. Those memories sucked, big time, but they'd survived
then,
and they'd survived now.
Of course, that made it even less likely they'd survive another
building collapse. Probability and all that.
He hated probability sometimes.
He hated bedside vigils always.
Teyla would come in a couple of hours to relieve him. Then
Ronon
after her. It was a given these days, that one of them would
be
there. It was what they did.
They'd be there to distract John with talking and joking, and bring him
his iPod and Nintendo DS, to help when he got bored of being stuck in
the infirmary. He wouldn't be released for a few days, unlike
Radek, who would most likely be gone the next morning. No,
this
morning, he thought as he glanced at his watch.
He picked up his PC tablet and started to make alterations to his
newest genius idea.
And waited for his friends to wake up.
The End
A/N: Thanks to aquilegia, who responded to my question on the sga_reference
LiveJournal community about what type of handheld computer Sheppard was
using in The Daedalus Variations.
