A Stargate: Atlantis story by Deana Lisi
Disclaimer: I don't own any SG characters.
Takes place during season 1, which would make the year 2004. NO SLASH
"Uh…what d'we do now?"
John Sheppard sighed, looking at the ceiling…or was it the floor? "Well, it might be a good idea to get out of our seats." He looked over at the equally upside-down CMO of Atlantis. "Are you hurt?"
Carson Beckett returned the look, an expression of shock easily readable on his face. "No…jus' me pride. You?"
Sheppard shook his head. "Nope. And it wasn't your fault," he said, starting to unbuckle the seatbelts that had thankfully held him firmly in his seat.
"How could it not be?" Carson exclaimed, shakily. "I'm the one flyin' this bugger, so obviously I'm the one who flipped us upside down!"
Sheppard shook his head as he yanked on one of the belts, which appeared to be stuck. "No, right before we went down, I saw—"
A gasp interrupted him, and he looked at the doctor again.
Carson had a wince on his face. "I think I spoke too soon."
Carson raised his right hand and carefully touched the side of his neck. Slowly, he turned his head away from Sheppard, but stopped after less than an inch, closing his eyes in obvious pain.
"Carson?" Sheppard asked, grabbing his arm, trying to see.
"Whiplash," Carson told him, reopening his eyes.
John winced in sympathy. "Ouch."
"Aye," the doctor agreed. "Also…I'm stuck."
"Hold on," Sheppard said, yanking on the stuck buckle that still kept him in his seat. "I'll help ya—" he broke off with a yelp when the seatbelt easily opened and dumped him onto the floor...or rather, ceiling. Years of training caused him to quickly twist so that he thankfully avoided breaking his neck.
"M-Major?" Carson said, his stutter the result of held-in laughter.
"Shut up," John replied. He stood up, glad that the Puddle Jumper's interior height wasn't too high. Carson's upside-down face was nearly level with his own. "Hello," he joked.
Carson rolled his eyes. "Jus' get me outta here, please! I think every drop of blood in m'whole body has rushed ta me head!"
"Workin' on it," John told him, studying the straps. "This won't be easy, so just hang in there, doc."
"Hang…" Carson mumbled.
"Sorry. Okay, now listen; I'll unbuckle you. Hold onto the armrests real tight, 'cause you're gonna slide out pretty fast."
"Great," Carson said.
"Don't worry doc, I'll catch ya."
Carson gave no reply, trusting the military man and trying to ignore his pain.
Sheppard reached towards the three seatbelts and unlocked them one by one, leaving the stuck one for last. It was harder than his own jammed one had been, and he looked at Carson when he heard the doctor sigh. "Almost there, doc, don't pass out on me."
"Heh," Carson replied, feeling his limbs going numb. "I'll try not ta." He closed his eyes, waiting impatiently.
"I don't understand this," John said a minute later, still unable to open the buckle. He reached over further, trying to see it better.
"Mfph!" Carson suddenly exclaimed, getting an armful of jacket in his face.
"Whoops," said John. He backed up a step and sighed. "Maybe I should shoot it," he joked.
"What?!" Carson exclaimed.
"No, suppose we can't do that." John sighed again and reached over for another try. Unexpectedly, the buckle popped loose immediately and Carson would've fallen head-first if John's lightning-fast reflexes hadn't grabbed him around the shoulders.
"Ack!" Carson exclaimed, trying to hold onto the arms of the seat.
"It's okay, doc," said John. He carefully started to pull him down, wrapping his arms under Carson's armpits and across his chest. When he met with resistance, he said, "You can let go now."
But Carson didn't. "I'm still in the air!"
"Of course you are!" said John, trying to be careful of the doctor's neck. "But I can't pull you any further unless you let go."
Carson tried to look down, but was unable to in his current position, nevermind the condition of his neck. John's hands were locked together right over his sternum, and dug in uncomfortably. The angle that he was still hanging in had his neck craned forward, causing the pain to double. "Argh…" he whined.
"Just let go, Carson, I won't let you fall," John told him, getting exasperated.
The doctor finally obeyed, and John held him tightly as his legs fell out of the seat. He tried to take a step back, to give Carson room to properly stand, but since they were standing on the ceiling, not the floor, the Major forgot about the control panel that protruded directly behind him. He tripped, and they both fell in a heap.
Carson, his head swimming as his circulation tried to correct itself, lay there limply. He could hear the rush of blood in his ears, and frowned when another sound filtered through.
Lying on the floor, half under Carson, Major Sheppard was laughing. A second later he sat up and looked at the doctor. "I tried to not let you fall," he said.
Carson knew that it wasn't the other man's fault. "Thanks," he said.
"How's your neck?" Sheppard asked, concerned. "I didn't hurt you worse, did I?"
Carson carefully sat up. "I don't think so," he lied. He held his hand against his neck as he tried to look up at the seats, not succeeding very well. "Yer no' plannin' to tell anyone about this, are ya?"
Sheppard grinned. A slow, wide, menacing grin. "Well, doc, that depends."
Carson closed his eyes. "On what?"
"On your promise that you won't come at me with any needles for…oh…at least a year."
"Oh, lad, ya can't be serious!"
Sheppard chuckled and stood, holding out a hand to help his friend up.
Carson accepted it, staggering a little when circulation finally made it back to his legs. "What d'we do now?" he asked again, trying to keep his balance on the uneven roof.
Not answering, John turned to the upside down communications board, and tried to work it over his head. "Atlantis, come in," he said.
"Atlantis? Dr. Weir? Anyone?"
"Damaged?" Carson asked.
John nodded. "Looks that way." He put a hand up to his ear to activate his earpiece, but it was gone. Muttering under his breath, he looked around for it. "Use your earpiece," he said.
Carson reached up for his own, before frowning. "Uh…"
John looked at him in shock. "Yours is gone too?!"
Carson nodded, turning his head to search, but winced and grabbed his neck. "They musta gone flyin' when we crashed."
John sighed, not spotting either of the tiny devices on the floor.
"We can't call for help?" Carson asked.
John shook his head.
"Oh crap!" the doctor exclaimed. He looked for a place to sit down, before remembering that the seats were currently over their heads. Sighing, he sat on the floor…which was actually the ceiling.
John dropped to his knees and continued to look, crawling around. "I can't believe this!" he exclaimed. "We both lost them? That kind of thing only happens on TV!"
"Aye," said Carson. "And then the characters go through hell tryin' ta get back home."
John sighed, sitting up and looking at the doctor. "Yeah, but they always make it!"
"Usually half-dead," Carson said, looking nervous.
John stood and looked down at him, shaking his head. "You need to be more optimistic. I think you need to drink less coffee, too. You have way too much anxiety."
Carson tried to look up at him, but couldn't move his head that much. "Can ya blame me? Lately, our lives have become one disaster after another!"
John saw his point, and patted Carson on the shoulder before starting for the door. "We can either sit here and worry or we can try to get home!"
"Try how?" Carson asked, following. "We have no communication ta Atlantis, and even if we reach the ocean, we can't exactly cross it!"
"True," said John, unlocking the upside-down door. "But Teyla's people live around here somewhere, and they have equipment to contact Atlantis. If we can make it there, we're all set."
Carson's expression changed, and he sighed with relief. "Thank God."
The door opened, and a chilly wind blew in. The two men grabbed their supplies and left the Puddle Jumper.
Not much happening yet, but that's definitely gonna change! Bwahahahaha! LOL ;)