Author's Note: Hey. Hi. Had a bit of time to write, so I wrote this thing. It'll probably only be a two-shot, but I hope ya'll like it! Thanks!

CHAPTER 1

The light of the early morning crept across the base, spilling rich pink over the dirt. A soft glow filtered through the window of the little building, and the old kitchen brightened in the warmth. Most of the special ops team slept on, barely stirring in their bunks.

Today was Saturday.

And Adam felt terrible.

He stared out the window, blinking harshly against the dim light of the early morning. Aches poked at his body. A chill crawled through his bones. And while that was miserable enough, the worst part was the rising nausea and pain in his gut.

Normally, he'd be starving at this time in the morning, but right now, even the thought of food made his stomach flip.

He wanted to crawl back into bed, but he wasn't the type to give in to something as trivial as a stomach flu. Besides, the team would be up soon, so it was time to get on with the day.

Adam heard a whine from outside, a soft scratching at the corner of the entrance. Patton. The team leader pushed through the plastic flaps they called a front door and wandered out, greeted eagerly by the playful dog. Patton's tongue hung out of a comical grin, his brown eyes bright in the morning light.

"Hey there, buddy." Adam reached down to pat Patton's head, wincing when a pulse of pain echoed through his abdomen. Patton's tail stopped wagging, dropping as the lean canine gazed up at his favorite human.

Letting out a groan, Adam straightened, grimacing when his stomach complained. He thought about telling McG about it when the medic woke up, but then he figured it could wait until it was a real concern.

His eyes stared out at the rising pink line on the horizon, and he hunched over a little as the pain grew. Hell, whatever this was, it was awful. It was probably just a little bug. Most likely, it would pass after a couple of days. But it still sucked.

Adam took a few steps along the side of the building, shivering as a chill ran up his spine. The familiar sound of Patton's paws pattered beside him, sticking close to his side. Adam smirked at the dog's unwavering loyalty.

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he stopped, reaching out to the wall to steady himself. The nausea and pain ratcheted, and he took deep, measured breaths to quell the increasing queasiness.

It was no use.

He bent over as his stomach emptied what little it held. The abdominal pain spiked, and he pressed an arm against his stomach in a desperate attempt to keep it in check. But he immediately pulled his arm away when the pain got worse with pressure. With the taste of acid still in his mouth, he sunk down to a crouch, curling around his middle.

There was a warm lick on his face, and a cold nose nuzzled his cheek affectionately.

"I'm fine, buddy," Adam huffed, blindly reaching his other arm around to rest on Patton's head. The two of them stayed still for a moment, Adam breathing slowly and steadily while Patton simply stood as silent support. And just as the pain dulled to an uncomfortable throb, Patton slipped from Adam's reach, trotting away.

So much for unwavering loyalty.

As he fought to get his lightheadedness under control, Adam could hear Patton scratching and whining at the door behind him. He frowned, unsure of what the dog was trying to do.

The plastic flaps in the entry scraped softly against each other, signaling the arrival of another team member. "Hey, Patton."

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head further to his chest. Of course. Patton really was loyal to a fault.

And it was no surprise the canine had gone looking for help.

"Top?"

Heavy boots stepped toward him, slow and cautious.

Adam inhaled deeply. "Hey, Preach."

There was a beat of silence as Preach absorbed the scene in front of him. After several seconds, a heavy hand fell on Adam's shoulder, a quiet concern in the gesture.

"You all right?"

Adam swallowed, feeling the heat of nausea in his stomach. "Fine enough."

Lips pursed, Preach looked at the pool of sick in front of the blond, exasperation already setting in. "I think it's safe to say you're not fine."

Adam shot him a tired glare.

"Come on, let's get you inside," Preach sighed, moving to help the team leader.

"Wait, wait, wait," Adam muttered. He closed his eyes. "Just give me a minute."

The older man stopped, backing away as he folded his arms. Adam looked pretty flushed, and Preach had felt the heat of a fever through the team leader's shirt. McG would be up soon if he wasn't already, and Preach was admittedly anxious to get Adam inside.

Without warning, Adam bent over further, just in time for another round of vomiting. Preach grimaced in sympathy, looking elsewhere.

When Adam was finished, he leaned his shoulder and head against the wall, worn out and miserable.

He looked dreadful.

Preach moved to pull Adam upright. "If you were this sick, why did you get out of bed in the first place?"

"Not sure," Adam answered curtly. Pressing his lips together in disapproval, Preach placed his hands firmly under Adam's arms, pulling just enough to get the man standing. Adam swayed, and Preach was quick to throw an arm over his shoulders to keep the team leader steady.

"Well, next time, stay in bed," the older man grumbled, and the two of them moved slowly toward the door. Adam was quickly losing energy, his feet stumbling over the dirt as Patton followed dutifully beside him. Once they reached the door, Preach swept the plastic flaps out of the way and carefully helped Adam inside.

With a sigh, the older man looked apologetically at Patton. "Sorry, boy. You're going to have to stay outside." There was a soft whine as the older man retreated into the building, and Preach couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"What's going on?"

McG stood at the hallway entrance, looking somewhat alarmed as he took in the troubling scene. "Top?" He took a few quick strides toward Adam, his hand already raised to feel the team leader's neck.

"It's fine," Adam replied weakly, the abdominal pain throbbing in a sea of nausea. If he was being perfectly honest, this was pretty close to bodily hell. All he really wanted to do was drop into bed and sleep the misery away. But McG didn't have to know that.

McG exhaled heatedly, shooting Adam a stern look. "You've got a pretty high fever." The medic glanced at Preach. "Let's get him sitting down at least."

Preach helped Adam into a seat at the kitchen table, the younger man slouching gratefully.

"I'm going to need some information," McG prodded, crouching down and taking Adam's wrist to check his pulse. "Any other symptoms? Aches? Nausea?"

"Nausea for sure," Preach interjected.

A heavy breath rushed out of McG's mouth as he checked Adam over further. "How long has this been going on?"

Adam stayed silent, not wanting to give in.

McG glared. "Top. How long."

The blond huffed, looking down at his lap. "Didn't feel right yesterday, but it was worse this morning." There was a swirl in his stomach, and he swallowed heavily.

A frown dug into McG's features, and he did his best to stay calm. "And I'm just hearing about this now?"

Adam shrugged, wincing when it pulled at his stomach. "Didn't think it was a big deal."

"Dammit, Top. You've got to take better care of yourself."

The sound of opening doors and light footsteps caught Preach's attention, and he looked up to see both Jaz and Amir coming down the hall.

Jaz came to a stop as she peered into the kitchen, Amir doing the same just behind her. She stared at Adam's back for a while, watching McG work. "What's going on with Top?"

"Top's caught himself the stomach flu," Preach answered gruffly.

She crinkled her nose, stepping further into the room. "Yuck." As she passed by, she turned to look at Adam, her expression morphing to one of worry when she caught sight of him. She slowed to a stop, giving Adam a onceover. "You okay?"

"Fine," he sighed, closing his eyes.

Jaz squinted suspiciously. "Definitely not okay." Amir looked on with his own look of concern, his brow furrowed.

Ignoring the newcomers, McG stood up, glancing at Preach. "Okay, Top. Let's get you back to bed." Preach stepped in without a word, helping Adam stand. The two of them headed down the hall, Adam swaying dangerously as he leaned on Preach.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Amir asked, watching as McG snapped up a small trash can from the corner of the room.

A sigh breezed from the medic's lungs, adding to the already tense atmosphere. "If he does what he's told and takes it easy for a while, he'll probably be just fine."

"Who knew a stomach flu would be the thing to knock Top on his ass?" Jaz muttered, moving to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

Amir looked thoughtful as McG collected his med kit, the small bucket still in the medic's grip. "If you think it would help, I could make a ginger tea. Could help with the nausea."

McG stopped for a moment, mulling the idea over. "You know, that wouldn't be a bad idea." And with that, he disappeared down the hall, med kit and trash can in hand.

"He really looks terrible," Amir mumbled, moving to the shelves to grab a small pot.

Jaz sat on the kitchen table, taking a small sip of water. "Yeah, but McG said he'd be fine."

The ex-spy spared her a glance, half suspecting she was saying it to comfort herself. It used to be his job to read people, and right now, it was pretty clear she was trying too hard to stay emotionally uninvolved.

"You're probably right," he muttered.

As Amir busied himself with making tea, Preach came back into the room, looking troubled.

"How's our fearless leader?" Jaz asked casually, taking another gulp of water. There was something unsettling in Preach's eye, and Jaz found it difficult to wave it away.

He sighed. "Not great." Preach hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "Top's temperature is high, and it seems worse than a stomach flu to me."

At that, Amir looked back. "To you? What do you mean?"

A mild tension buzzed through the air as Preach took a seat at the table. "I've known Top for a while, and I think we all know he's more stubborn than most." There was a pause, and the silence weighed heavily on their shoulders. "With how much time we spend together out here, I've seen his share of sick days. Usually, he just pushes through it and only takes a break when he really needs it. But this is different. Something isn't right."

"Well, maybe it's just a worse strain than he's had before," Jaz suggested, her fingers tightening around her water bottle.

Preach shook his head. "No, something's not right. I can just…tell."

There was a small splash as Amir dropped ginger into the heating water, and the three of them let the quiet linger as they fell into their own thoughts. Amir wasn't sure what to think, deciding that he'd wait for McG's own diagnosis.

But for Jaz, all she could feel was the unavoidable knot of unease in her chest.

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"I could give you something for the nausea."

Adam gently shook his head, breathing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this bad, and truly, he was too weary to get upset about it.

The medic stood in the doorway, watching Adam with his arms folded. There was a sense of helplessness watching the team leader curl up on his bunk, a thin blanket draped over his feverish body. Adam refused any sort of treatment, and there wasn't much else McG could do but encourage hydration and let the thing run its course.

Just after he was settled into bed, Adam had thrown up again, barely grabbing the bucket in time. And while his fever was high, McG didn't think it was high enough to warrant a visit to the emergency room.

Hell, Adam just looked so sick, and McG hated that he was stuck sitting by and watching.

"I'm going to grab you some water and be back to check on you in a bit, alright?"

Adam didn't say anything. He just pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

Whatever this was, it had a mean bite. Especially if it had Top down for the count.

McG turned toward the kitchen, clenching his teeth. When he'd woken up this morning, the last thing he'd thought he'd be doing was taking care of a sick Top. What worried him the most was that Adam hadn't even put up a fight when Preach had dragged him back to bed. Normally, the blond would try every excuse in the book to avoid treatment and pretend everything was fine. This time, he wasn't pretending everything was fine.

Three pairs of anxious eyes turned to look at McG as he walked into the room, each of them holding their own questions.

"Top's pretty sick," he admitted, opening the fridge to pull out a water. "The guy's burning up, hardly talking, and the nausea's pretty bad. You said he threw up twice outside, Preach?"

"As far as I could tell," the older man replied, shrugging a little.

"I'm not entirely sure what this thing is, but all we can do right now is keep an eye on him and make sure he's hydrating." McG rubbed at his eyes with a sigh, then looked at Amir with an apologetic grimace. "He wouldn't drink the tea, so I'm going to try and get him to drink some water for now."

The other three team members watched the medic head back to the hallway, the bottle of water gripped tightly in his hand. Jaz decided to follow, feeling anxious.

As McG entered the room, Jaz hung back in the doorway, content with observing. Adam looked even worse than he had before, his pinched expression practically screaming discomfort. She wrapped her arms around her torso, her worry rising.

"Come on, Top. You've got to drink something," McG coaxed, offering the open bottle of water. Adam shook his head, his lips pressed together in clear rejection. Putting the water aside, McG placed a hand on Adam's forehead. "What's going on with you, man? Is it just nausea? Is there something else?"

Jaz chewed on her fingernail, feeling increasingly powerless as she watched.

"It hurts," Adam growled, shaking his head.

McG was instantly on high alert. "What hurts? Tell me what's going on."

"Stomach," Adam ground out.

Without hesitation, McG stood and pulled the blanket down from Adam's shoulders. Jaz's posture straightened in high alert, and she took a few steps further into the room. "What's going on?"

Pushing Adam's arms away, McG started pressing gently on Adam's stomach, moving around to check different areas. When he moved to Adam's right side, the team leader cried out, curling tighter.

McG immediately looked at Jaz. "Get Preach. We've gotta take Top to the hospital."

Alarmed, she ran out of the room to the kitchen. "Preach, McG needs you."

Preach didn't waste any time bolting from his seat toward Adam's room, Jaz and Amir following close behind. McG was already pulling Adam out of bed, and Preach moved in to help support him.

"We've got to get Top to the hospital before it bursts," McG huffed, walking quickly to set the pace. He and Preach were hauling Adam between the two of them, aiming for speed rather than care.

Jaz and Amir stayed close to their heels, growing increasingly worried.

"Before what bursts?" Amir asked breathlessly, looking between McG and Adam.

They managed to get through the main room and were just about to push through the front door.

"His appendix," McG yelled over his shoulder.