antiphobia: Star Trek XI - Enterprise (Anti - Default)
[personal profile] antiphobia
Title: trouble and perplexity drive me
Author: [ profile] tanzensiemit
Recipient: [ profile] kaziwren
Pairing: Carson Beckett, Ronon Dex
Rating: FRT+/®
Beta: [ profile] barefoot_starz
Summary: Trouble and perplexity drive me to prayer and prayer drives away perplexity and trouble. ~ Philip Melanchthen

For Peace and Deliverance from our Enemies

O ALMIGHTY God, who art a strong tower of defense unto thy servants against the face of their enemies: We yield thee praise and thanksgiving for our deliverance [or for thy gracious gift of peace], confessing that it is of thy goodness alone that we have been preserved; and we beseech thee to continue thy mercies towards us, that we may always acknowledge thee as our Savior and mighty Deliverer; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Behind him, he could hear the horrible screech of the besec, terrible creatures with the snouts of demons and eyes like those sharks that Dr. Egolious showed him just the night before -- razor sharp teeth and eyes black as death itself. The Peste’ol used them to guard their cities, their flocks, and, in this instance, track down fleeing enemies. Ronon didn’t let himself entertain thoughts of the soldiers on his trail restraining those horrid beasts for the sake of capturing him -- or any of them -- alive; besec were not trained for anything else but to kill.

The taste of blood was thick in his mouth, chocking him with its metallic cloy. He ignored it just as he ignored the pain radiating from his side, all but seizing his motor functions as he scrambled through the brush, between the trees, running for the ‘gate. Ronon knew he did not have the luxury of letting his body fail, to give into the pain or the dizzying effect of blood loss, to cause him to falter, not while his team was still on this T’sec Nat’e forsaken planet.

An explosion echoed clear across the gully separating the woods Ronon was trying his best to flee through and the Ring of the Ancestors that say precariously between the opening of the mountain path and the pikes erected by the natives to ward off the Dart ships. The Peste’ol didn’t have explosives so that meant his team was alive and fighting back but it worried him. He thought he had been able to drawl all the attention to himself, leaving them free to get to the ‘gate.

A besec howled its high-pitched whine of excitement and there were shouts from the soldiers; Ronon pushed himself harder, tried to run faster, and left a steady stream of blood behind him, running rivets down his thigh, leaving a trail for them to follow.

'Ronon. Damn it where are you?!’

He’d blame stumbling on being surprised by Sheppard’s voice and not the numbness creeping into his extremities but he didn’t know what he could blame his shaking hands on -- Ronon tapped his com, “Making my way back to the ’gate.” Sheppard was making some kind of frustrated noise on the other end so he added, quickly, “Needed to give you and Teyla time to haul McKay back to the ’gate. You couldn’t do that with them on your heels. ’s nothing to worry about.”

‘Rodney and Teyla made it back through to Atlantis just fine?’ Another explosion drifted over the gully. ’They’re sending a ‘jumper through as soon as I clear the last of these stakes out of the way. How close are you?’

There were two paths that lead from the Stargate; a stone path that lead deep into the side of the mountain and opened up to a small river and a dirt path that ended at a bridge of rope and wood that was cracked and sagged with age. When they came here, McKay had opted, immediately, for the stone path. Sheppard agreed with Teyla who backed McKay’s choice and Ronon, well he listened to Sheppard. Now, however, Ronon didn’t have a choice: he’d deliberately ran into the woods farthest from the stone path to leave the easier road for his team leaving him with only the untested bridge to chance his escape.

He sneered at his chances and grunted, “Rope bridge’s just over this hill. Five, maybe ten minutes.”

‘That bridge didn’t look like it’d hold up a bunny rabbit much less you. There any way you got lucky and yo…’ A besec chose that moment to let out a howl and it was far closer than Ronon felt comfortable with, apparently the feeling was mutual. ‘Shit. Okay, so that’s not going to work. I’m making my way towards you, just keep coming. I don’t like the idea of trusting that bridge not to fail with you halfway across.’

“I’m bri--AHH!” Ronon vaulted over a downed tree and skidded on unsteady feet as he landed only to be driven face first into the dirt as rows of razored teeth sank deep into his shoulder. Blood welled immediately in the grooves and flowed from the creature’s mouth, falling dark down his leather coat.

Sheppard was yelling but the voice sounded tiny, from a distance but a throaty noise from the besec drowned him out. It was the second growl that had Ronon to worrying.

For Hospitals and Infirmaries

Let us pray for God's blessing on all hospitals and infirmaries.
V. Himself took our infirmities;
R. And bare our sicknesses.

ALMIGHTY God, whose blessed Son Jesus Christ went about doing good, and healing all manner of sickness and disease among the people: Continue, we beseech thee, his gracious work among us in all hospitals and infirmaries; console and heal the sufferers; grant to the physicians, surgeons, and nurses, wisdom and skill, sympathy and patience; prosper their work, O Lord, with thy continual blessing; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Like his fellow medical doctors, Carson had paid his dues on the wards, took rotations in surgery and trauma, and really learned what he needed to decide what kind of doctor he would be one day. He knew, from those experiences, that he was not cut out for trauma duties. His heart just wasn't in to seeing a steady stream of broken and bruised bodies passing through the doors of the ER, having to sew their wounds and send them home or pull a sheet over top and send them to the morgue. Experiencing that much pain and misery never set well with him, that's why he chose genetics.

There were so many things he had never wanted to return to in his profession and behind a microscope, he never found them. His slides and RNA strands, the myriad of genomes and retroviruses; they were all safe to him and mice were the only creatures he had to deal with. But then he'd accepted the SGC's offer and found himself working with aliens and scientists, and being sent across the light years worth of space to end up on a floating city and doing the work he'd spent all those extra years in University to get away from -- He'd traded his microscope for a scalpel and kept his people from falling apart with packing tape and shoestrings. But as he reached and stitched and pried through Ronon's battered body, he found that he didn't really care anymore. This was what he did.

Complete transection of the left subscapularis muscle and partial transection of the infraspinatus tendon, exacerbating a bilateral humerus fracture that cracked the humeral head and splintered down the humeral shaft. A messy fix especially if you don't have the necessary parts to fix it. The biomet head was the hardest to form but Radek had cobbled it together from a broken piece of an Ancient consol and the stem from a table in one of the empty labs. Carson found it amazing what desperation and a gaggle of engineers can come up with in a pinch. Having never been a field medic Carson never appreciated the old adage of 'use what's handy and be thankful it's there' but here in Pegasus he's taken it to heart.

Ronon would be laid up for a good while but Carson has managed to save the man's shoulder and with time and a few passes of the Ancient grafter, the damaged tendons will mend. Keeping Ronon in the infirmary would be a battle but keeping the former Runner from trying to train would be a war. However Carson was use to it, he was a doctor.

For the Recovery of a Sick Person

Let us pray for the sick and suffering.
V. He healeth those that are broken in heart;
R. And giveth medicine to heal their sickness.

ALMIGHTY and immortal God, giver of life and health: We beseech thee to hear our prayers for thy servant N., for whom we implore thy mercy, that by thy blessing upon him and upon those who minister to him of thy healing gifts, he may be restored, if it be thy gracious will, to soundness of health, and give thanks to thee in thy holy Church; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Ronon's team had all sat in the hall, waiting for news on Ronon's condition and waited still for hours more until Carson took pity on the hang-dog crew and let them in - Five minutes only, you lot! - to reassure themselves that their friend and teammate would be alright. Rodney hadn't stayed but a few minutes however it wasn't due to him not caring or wanting to camp out as any one of them had done for one another before during extended stay - Rodney had been discharged as soon as Carson left surgery and signed the release with strict orders to eat and rest. Carson was sure the only food that entered the man's system before he'd glared Rodney out the infirmary doors was his stash of power bars kept in the tact vest he'd been clutching close.

Teyla left soon after, parting ways from John and Ronon with a soft touch of foreheads and whispered wishes for a speedy recovery, which left the most stubborn of men to linger by Ronon's bedside: John Sheppard, Atlantis' Military Commander and best of men anyone had a right to know. Sure, he was of a headstrong lot and tended to attract trouble like most people breathed air but he was a good person. He also tended to carry the world on his shoulders. Carson feared that one day the guilt would break his back and leave Atlantis and his friends to pick of the pieces. He could only hoped that John was still seeing Kate and actually talking instead of pasting on an empty smile and speaking not but breislich for an hour.

Surprisingly it didn't take more than twenty minutes to finally shoo an exhausted Sheppard from the infirmary and, hopefully, into bed where Carson prescribed at least five solid hours of rest and a hearty meal when he woke. He might have suggested for John to check on Rodney as well which Carson knew would kill two birds with one stone, even if it felt a little underhanded.

''least John might badger Rodney, the stubborn arse, to bed. Vice versa too. Pair of right choobs.' Carson could feel the heat coming off Ronon’s skin before his fingers wrapped around the man’s wrist. He sighed and sank heavily into the recently vacated chair beside the man's bed.

"Suppose I'll just keep you company for a bit before I send myself off to bed then, right?" He asked as he slid his fingers beneath the limp hand, closing them around Ronon's. Warm. Breathing. Alive! Carson planned to keep him that way. He bowed his head and let his voice rise above the beeping of the monitors.

"For the Preservation of Peace: GRANT, O Lord, we beseech thee, that the course of this world may be so peacefully ordered by thy governance, that thy Church may joyfully serve thee in all godly quietness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Scottish Book of Common Prayers - General Prayers #42, #49, #50, and Thanksgiving #5
Medical Procedure

Happy Christmas

crossposted: [ profile] tanzensiemit + [ profile] sga_santa



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