Word Count:
1,034 Rating:
PG Category:
Humour Story Status:
Complete Summary:
Rodney's not feeling too well. Set just before 'Irresitible',
Season 3.
Beta:
Thank you to Jayne Perry for the beta-reading.
Contagion By Leesa Perrie
Day One –
Morning
He felt that tell tale scratchiness at the back of his
throat.
Great, just…great. He was developing a
cold. Really,
this was so not fair. He had too much work to do, he really
didn’t need this as well. And there was little
point in
going to see Carson. He’d just prescribe lots of
fluids,
rest and maybe some Tylenol. So much for the medical
profession,
couldn’t even cure the common cold.
He grabbed some Tylenol and headed for the mess hall. Food,
drink, some tablets, and then get down to the labs. Maybe it
would just go away. Yeah, right.
Day One –
Afternoon
He kept sneezing. Just lots of little annoying ones every so
often. And his throat was beginning to feel raw.
Miko,
bless her, brought him some throat lozenges. Radek, damn him,
brought Carson, after a particularly violent set of sneezes.
Said
he was worried Rodney was going to sneeze his brain out.
Carson, the quack, offered him some SenQuil, and suggested he got some
rest. He took the SenQuil, to shut everyone up, and then went
back to work. Funny how most of his staff found reasons to be
elsewhere. What, they were afraid of a few germs?
Cowards.
It had nothing to do with his steadily decreasing patience, or his
constant bitching about how awful he felt. Of course not.
Day One –
Evening
And to think he felt bad this afternoon! Oh, this was just
so, so
unfair. His throat was raw, his voice little more than a
whisper,
and damn Sheppard for enjoying that little fact so much, and his
sinuses were clogging up. Add to that the start of a cough,
and a
few aches and pains, and you got one extremely irritable and downright
miserable astrophysicist.
The worst thing, though, was the fact that he couldn’t seem
to
think clearly. It felt like his brain was clogging up as
well. Maybe he should just give up, go to bed, and hope he
felt
better tomorrow. Not that he held out much hope that he
would, or
that he would be able to get much sleep tonight.
Maybe Carson had some NyQuil…
Day Two –
Morning
Rotten NyQuil stuff. Sure, it had made him drowsy, as if he
hadn’t been feeling drowsy enough, but did it help him
sleep? No. Damn cold, damn useless
medicine. And if
they thought he was going to work today, they could think
again.
No way. He was going to shuffle, and no doubt it would be a
shuffle the way he was feeling, down to the mess hall, grab some food,
even though he wasn’t feeling too hungry - and
wasn’t that
worrying in itself? – and shuffle back to his room, and bed.
Oh, and call Carson. Maybe the quack had some other slightly
less
useless medicine he could take. Right now, he’d
take
anything to feel better. Damn, just to be able to breathe
through
his nose and not his mouth would be wonderful. Especially as
that
was making his throat and cough worse.
Day Two – Still
Morning.
Sympathy, all he asked for was a little sympathy. Ha, he
should
have known better. That rat, Sheppard, called him
‘flem
central’, and beat a hasty retreat. Teyla had
looked
concerned, and suggested he see Carson again, as if that would make any
difference. Ronon…had threatened him with violence
if he
so much as breathed in the big guy’s direction.
Wonderful. Everyone else was giving him a wide
berth. He
was glad to get back to his quarters to lie down, and ignore that
little bit of pain at being avoided. It was just a few germs,
after all. It wasn’t like he was suffering from a
plague or
anything.
So much for friendship.
Day Two –
Afternoon
He felt hot, cold, hot, cold…Not good. Carson had
sounded
annoyed when he’d called him. Well, sorry for being
ill! Still, he said he would come down and check on him in a
few
minutes. Not that Carson would be able to do much, but damn
it,
he’d not felt this bad for years. He was beginning
to
wonder if it was just a cold. Maybe it was flu. Or
maybe it
was some mutant Pegasus Galaxy disease and he was going to die in his
room. Alone.
Damn it, friends didn’t leave friends to suffer
alone. At
least, he’d thought they didn’t.
Obviously,
he’d got that wrong.
Day Two –Evening
So, now he was in the infirmary. Seemed he had the mega cold
from
hell, and Carson had decided he wanted him where he could keep an eye
on him.
He felt like a wet rag, wrung out, and miserable. If a wet
rag
could feel miserable. Or could feel anything, for that
matter. Crap, his brain felt clogged and slow. At
least he
could breathe through his nose now. Carson had put him on
oxygen,
apparently his levels had been a little low. Not dangerously
so,
but still…
His throat still felt like it had been cut, and the cough was
threatening to bring his lungs up. Oh, and he had a
fever.
Wonderful. And although he could breathe through his nose,
and
the sneezing seemed to have stopped, his sinuses still felt heavy and
painful.
And he couldn’t talk. Which was doubly annoying, as
his
team seemed to have remembered him all of a sudden, and he
couldn’t make any snappy comebacks to their teasing.
He sighed. He felt worse than like crap.
But at least he wasn’t alone.
Day Five –
Morning
At last, the nightmare was over. Well, okay, he still had a
slight cough, but the rest of his symptoms were gone.
He’d
been released from the infirmary yesterday, but told to rest.
Something his team had enforced, mainly by taking it in turns to stay
and annoy him, stopping him from getting any work done.
Today, he was back in the labs. Back to normality.
But first, breakfast. And… uh oh…
Sheppard was
throwing him a death glare. What? He
hadn’t done
anything to warrant that, not that he could think of. Why was
the
Colonel so obviously pissed at him…
