Possible brain damage.
Rodney McKay with possible brain damage.
No way. No way in hell. Not Rodney. Not my geek. Rodney with brain damage is just... wrong. End of the world wrong. Dammit Rodney... why did you leave? Why? I thought... I thought when I found you in the transporter that it was all going to be fine, that Beckett was going to patch you up and send you on your merry way again.
It's not supposed to happen like this.
He's not supposed to get hurt at all, he's supposed to stay safe and pull rabbits out the hat when we need him too. He's supposed to drive me crazy and make me fantasise about killing him and hiding his body, but he's never supposed to just lie silently in a hospital bed, suddenly looking too small for it. A pale face surrounded by machines... machines that are monitoring him, treating him, helping him... making him look so damn fragile.
I promised myself, I wouldn't get attached, I wouldn't care. I mean, I would care in that a member of my team was hurt but I wouldn't care too much. He wasn't supposed to become my friend.
Nobody bothered to tell Rodney that though and I think even if they did he would have ignored them.
That man plays by his own rules and it seems that he doesn't give a damn about what other people think. All I know is one day I woke and realised Rodney. Just. Wasn't. Going. Away. Of course, that was the day I woke up in a cell with nobody but Rodney for company for nearly nine hours... Nevertheless, that was the day that I discovered he was my friend and I was just going to have to get used to it.
He has gone away though. Maybe not completely, but recently he's been pulling away from me, from Beckett. From everyone really. I was going to call him on it when we got back from the mission but... I've not had the chance. At least there is some part of Rodney left. Some brain activity, so we know he's not a complete vegetable.
He shed some tears on the forth day. It was the first real sign that there was anything left of Rodney. Beckett seemed almost pleased at the tears, and said it was a good sign, it showed that there was something left. A couple of hours later I saw Beckett sitting by Rodney's bed and damn, the Doc looked rough. He looks about as bad as I feel.
Because, you know, even though this had nothing to do with me and everything to do with exposed roots and angry natives, even though I know that I can't help but feel that this has something to do with me. Something I did or something I didn't do...
I hope Beckett isn't wasting his energy feeling guilty. He knows he can't always save everyone
Only I know there is nothing else for him to do. I can tell by the way he sits, his shoulders slumped. Rodney's body is healing nicely but the simply fact is Rodney mind is still damaged. Either brain damage or emotional damage. He can't wake up or he won't wake up.
His last words to me before he fell into his coma haunt me. The gasping way in which he forced the words out of his mouth and the look in his eyes. As if he really believed the words and almost found them funny. 'We... apologise... for the... inconvenience.'
Does he really think he's nothing more than an inconvenience to me? I thought we had moved past this, I really did.
By the end of the sixth day I'm ready to kill something. It's not natural to see Rodney so quiet and still for such a long period of time. Rodney's always moving in some way, almost as if he has a twitch. He's always moving and almost always talking. I risk another glance at the silent form on the bed. Still nothing, not even a twitch, just the steady rise and fall of his chest that lets me know he's alive.
“Rodney... did I get too close? Too much like a friend?” I started talking to him on the third day. Really talk to him I mean, as if we were having a conversation and he was about to sit up on the bed and say something sarcastic back at me. It hasn't happened yet. I know the longer this coma lasts, the less likely it is he will wake up but there is a big difference between knowing something and accepting it.
“Or was it something else? What did I do huh? How did I screw up?” I ask, getting no response, just the repetitive beeping from his heart monitor. “I'm sorry I told you to shut up during our last mission, but I think you've proved your point now.” I offer.
Not even a twitch of an eyelid. I sigh and wiggle, trying to make myself comfortable. Six days and this chair was just as uncomfortable as it always had been. Not that I've been here all six days. I've spent a good deal of that time here yeah, but I've also done everything else I'm supposed to do as ranking military officer. Rodney's never been alone though, not for a moment. He's had a steady stream of visitors and I don't think he knows how many people actually like him.
“You've got to wake up and prove Dr. Beckett wrong. He thinks you might have brain damage, come on that's an insult to your brain.”
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zip.
Beckett comes up to the bed, checking the vital signs as he often does. He's been acting weird all day and it's making my skin crawl.
“Major.” He says at last, the word sounding dull. I keep my eyes fixed on Rodney's chest, watching it rise and fall.
“Major...” He tries again, but I'm not going to make this easy, no matter what it is he has to say. “I have to tell you... there is very little chance now... the heat his brain was exposed to...”
I sit stiffly, eyes focused on Rodney, remembering the fever. Remembering when I watched Rodney thrash on the bed screaming as his temperature rose and rose. When I touched him, it felt like my own skin had been burned. I know what Beckett's saying but I'm not hearing this. He is not telling me Rodney's brains have been fried. Beckett makes a sound and leaves but I carry on watching Rodney. I know the reason he's not pushing this is because Rodney is his friend too. I lean forward, my hand resting on Rodney's arm.
“Come on buddy, prove him wrong. You always love proving people wrong.”
Then I wait. Wait for the morning, for Beckett to come back and try again. Wait for something. Wait for Rodney.
Go Back: Wait For Me
Go Forward: Interludes in the Night
