Monday, Monday... (part 2/2)

John leapt out of his chair.  "No, it's most citrus."  He dropped to his knees beside Rodney's chair.  "Tell me you brought one of those pen-things with you." 

Two, actually, as he always carried.  Rodney heard the words, but he could only manage a nod of response.  He tried to prime the Epi-Pen he'd pulled out of his pocket, but his fingers didn't want to work anymore and he fumbled it, causing it to roll away under the table.  John saw and he signaled Ronon to retrieve it, then helped Rodney out of his chair and to the floor before Rodney toppled to the floor entirely in his struggle to force air in and out of his suddenly uncooperative lungs.

"Fuck."  John had shifted into what Rodney thought of as his "captain" mode--the former Air Force officer taking over.  He took the Epi-pen from Ronon.  "Thanks.  Call 911--we're gonna need 'em, even if this works."

"Got it."  Ronon whipped out his cell phone just before he wandered out of Rodney's field of vision, which was becoming increasingly spotty.  Rodney could hear himself wheezing as he tried to get a breath in.  His throat was tight and his lungs burned for the oxygen they couldn't get.

John leaned into Rodney's line of sight.  "Here, give me your hand, I'll--screw it, who's gonna sue me?"  Rodney didn't even have time to try to decipher John's words before he felt a familiar sting in his leg.  Thank God.  In the middle of an anaphylactic attack, that was the only sensation Rodney wanted to feel, the life-giving epi entering his body.  Technically, a bystander was supposed to help Rodney give it to himself as a cover-your-ass deal, but John was right--who was going to sue him?  Certainly not Rodney.

Rodney closed his eyes in relief as the epinephrine got to work and his breathing began to ease.  I love epi, he thought, cherishing every breath he took in.  If he could have savored each individual oxygen molecule, he would have.  One didn't have to be a science geek to feel that way, not after being unable to breathe.  He heard the sounds around him--John yelling at the crowd to back off, Teyla's reassurances that he was going to be fine, Ronon asking someone to confirm there was orange in the water--but he tuned them out, just focusing on breathing.  He opened his eyes to greet the paramedics as they hurried in, answering some of their questions and letting his friends take others.

Just as they were getting ready to transport him to the hospital, it occurred to Rodney that they were only blocks away from St. Luke's.  Convenient, that.  But...oh, hell, Carson was working today, wasn't he?  It wasn't that Rodney didn't want to place himself under his best friend's care--to the contrary, there wasn't a doctor he would have trusted more.  But, boy, was Carson going to be pissed.

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            To Rodney's surprise, Carson wasn't nearly as pissed as Rodney had anticipated--at least not in front of Rodney.  He wasn't the doctor who had first come in to treat Rodney, to get the antihistamines going along with the usual post-anaphylactic treatment, but he wandered in not long after.  Rodney would have been a little disappointed if he hadn't.  "Bloody hell, Rodney, I thought I told you after the last time I didn't want to see you here again unless you were visiting."

            Rodney forced himself to smile, despite how lousy he felt.  "Hey, this wasn't my fault.  They put orange in my water."

            "And the last time, your date didn't realize there was lemon in the marinade mix he was using."  Carson sighed.  "I know it isn't intentional, but you do realize you scare the hell out of us when you react like this, right?"

            "I scare the hell out of me when I do it."  Rodney closed his eyes, trying to will away the jitteriness and nausea he was feeling.  "God, I fucking hate epi."  Okay, the side effects, not the actual drug, but he felt too bad to split hairs.

            "Well, I fucking hate CPR," John contributed, coming around the curtain separating Rodney from the next bed over.  "Which one would you choose?"

            He had a point.  Rodney raised his head to look at John.  "Shouldn't you be at work?"  They could function without him there.

            John shrugged.  "Monday nights are slow as hell anyway--most of the business guys have gone home.  Teyla and Ronon decided to open late tonight.  We wanted to make sure you're okay--but that doc outside would only let one of us in at a time."

            That was nice of them and the knowledge that his friends cared warmed Rodney's heart.  "Thanks."  He gave Carson his best pleading look.  "Can they come in, just for a second?"

            Carson smiled and patted Rodney's shoulder.  "Aye, but if you get caught, I officially know nothing."  He nodded at John.  "Go get 'em, but be quick about it."

            "Thanks, Carson."  John grinned and headed out, presumably to the waiting room to get Ronon and Teyla.

            A few beds over, a woman started yelling in a heavy accent Rodney couldn't identify, "I am a princess in my country!  You find the doctor, you tell him this is not good enough!"  There was a pause, which Rodney assumed was someone arguing with her, though not nearly as loudly.  "I do not care about your 'triage.'  I am a princess and this is not acceptable!"

            Rodney rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, well, I'm a queen," he muttered, "and I've got a headache, so shut the hell up."

            Carson laughed.  "Still a cheeky bugger, even when you feel like death warmed over.  I've got to admire that."  He squeezed Rodney's hand.  "I'll drop in to see you later...I'd best deal with the princess before she makes everyone in this place daft."

            As Carson headed out, Ronon, John, and Teyla came in.  Ronon cast a dubious-looking glance in the direction the "princess" had been yelling from.  "Good luck with Her Majesty."

            "Hey, at least you get to leave."  Rodney rolled onto his side to face his friends; his head throbbed too much to hold it up for long.  "I have to stay at least six hours...more if I have a secondary reaction."  Which he desperately hoped he wouldn't.  "But...seriously.  Thanks for staying."

            "Of course, Rodney."  Teyla smiled.  "What else are friends for?"

            Friends.  It felt good to hear.  Rodney hadn't had a lot of friends growing up or even when he'd been in college.  He used to be sure his cat was the only one he could count on, and now he had great friends and a wonderful boyfriend too.  Damn, it was enough to make him maudlin.  "Thanks anyway."

            John nodded.  "We'll make do with the jukebox tonight.  You just get the hell out of here, okay?"

            Rodney had no trouble with agreeing to that plan.  "Sounds good to me."

            Rodney's friends stayed for a few more minutes, then decided not to tempt fate any further and left before they could get caught.  Rodney half-dozed for a few minutes, grateful Carson had apparently appeased the princess because she wasn't screaming anymore, until he heard another accent--this one much more pleasant and welcome.  "Rodney!"

            Rodney jolted awake, at least mostly.  "Hey, what're you doing here?"

            Radek moved to Rodney's bedside.  "John called my office to let me know.  I came as soon as I heard.  What happened?"

            "Orange, my water," Rodney recapped.  "Sucks."

            Radek didn't do very well at hiding the trace of fear in his eyes, but his voice was tender as he breathed, "Oh, milacku," against Rodney's cheek.

            Rodney took Radek's hand, intertwining his fingers with Radek's.  "Hey, I'll be fine.  Epi's good stuff...I just hate the come-down."

            "Yes, thank heavens you carry it at all times."  Radek sat down in the chair beside the bed, but he had pulled it as close as possible.  "It is frightening to think of what might have happened had you not--"

            Rodney couldn't lean quite far enough forward to kiss Radek, so he settled for kissing his index and middle fingers and touching them to Radek's lips.  Cutesy under other circumstances, but it solved his problem for the moment, communicating his meaning--and cutting Radek off.  "Don't think about it.  I'll be okay.  I promise."

            "You had better."  Radek stood up and brushed a kiss against Rodney's lips.

            "Hey, is that all?" Rodney protested jokingly.  Not that he'd have been up for sex anyway, sadly.

            Radek leaned against the railing of the bed.  "Think of it as a preview of coming attractions."

            Rodney smiled.  "You...are evil."

            "Yes," Radek allowed, "but I am cute, ne?"

            "Ano," Rodney agreed with a smirk.  He may not have known many Czech words, but he would make do with the ones he had.

            "Your accent is terrible, you know," Radek teased.

            "Oh, so we're back to the accent thing again?"  Rodney tried to muster up the energy to fake annoyance.  "Bite me."

            "I would love to, but not here."  Radek chuckled, then ran his hand up the length of Rodney's arm and back down again.  "You should rest now."

            Rodney knew Radek was right; he was exhausted enough from the reaction and the antihistamines only made him sleepier.  "Sleep?  With you putting those thoughts into my head?"

            "To give you pleasant dreams."  Radek ran his fingers through Rodney's hair.  "I will be here when you wake up--they will have to physically remove me."

            "I'd pay to see that," Rodney murmured, letting the desire to sleep overtake him.  It did so quickly, and just in time, too.  When Rodney woke up, Radek was indeed still there, a longsuffering look on his face...and the princess was yelling again.  Maybe Rodney was going to have to revise his opinion of Mondays....