(For a drabble tree. The section in bold is the inherited text.)
"How long do we have?" Rodney asked.
Carson sighed. "Probably three or four hours. But -- "
"I'm taking him," Rodney declared. "I promised, Carson."
"He can't leave the infirmary in his condition!"
"It's not like being here is doing him any good!" Rodney retorted, ignoring Carson's flinch. He touched his radio. "Sergeant Morris, this is McKay. I'll need that jumper ready as soon as possible."
"He doesn't even have the strength to sit up in the seat! Rodney," Carson pleaded, "he probably won't even know where he is."
Rodney looked down at John, and his expression softened. "He'll know."