Chp 1: The Hive
Thanks to fififolle for letting me steal her idea. :-D
In response to many questions, no, this is not from Radek's POV. Sorry to any who I confused.
She didn't see me, standing in the background; didn't see me as I stood the night watch while she came to take Dr. Beckett's place.
"Oh…Rodney, what'd you do now?" She sighed, resting her head on her steepled hands.
"I…don't…know," Dr. McKay moaned lightly, shifting a bit. "Can you…y'know…help me with this?" He gestured weakly at a tangled know of wires.
"Sure," She passed her hands through the knot until it was almost dissolved back into straight wires. "There, it's all back now," As she was placing her hand back properly on her knee, his caught it.
"No. Don't…leave." And in saying so, he passed out again.
"Alright, I won't." She whispered, holding onto his hand. From where I stood, it seemed like she was gripping him for dear life. "Just you don't leave me." The next hour consisted mainly of periodic sighs and caressing his hand. Once, she even stroked his hair, letting her hand slide down to his cheek. Of course, she obviously thought no one was there, or she'd never comprise her impartiality in such an evident way. Very few people here see her affection for Dr. McKay; they all gossip about her and Col. Sheppard, but there are a few of us who have seen these times and known that the others are wrong.
"Jeannie?" McKay sighed as he turned on his side, facing towards where she sat. Opening his eyes, the surprise and—strangely, coming from this arrogant man—love, registered on his face. "'Liz'beth?" She nodded then.
"How ya feelin'?" He tried to sit up but fell back against the pillows with a slight thump.
"Not as pretty as usual." His eyes fluttered back to closed and his breathing became deeper, while his grip on her hand loosened the slightest bit.
"No, not so much." She smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead, something which made me barely hold in a shocked sigh.
She stayed there all night, never once getting up for a drink or trip to the bathroom. However, when the first nurse walked into the open room, she left. Laying his limp hand on the side of the bed, she looked at him once, then turned and walked out the door the nurse had come in through. But what she didn't see was that hand grasp a bunch of bedsheets in a sad attempt to replace the warmth of her hand being there.
Dr. Weir is way out of my league, but maybe there's still hope for him.