Characters: John, Rodney, and Carson

Warnings: None required

A/N: Only the story is mine, the Characters are NOT and NO profit is made.

"I'm sorry," John whispered, he pressed the barrel of the gun to Rodney's chest and fired.

Carson Beckett flinched and sat up from his desk, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked first at his watch, only an hour had passed. Then he looked across the infirmary to see Rodney twitching under the covers, and John sitting beside the bed, speaking softly to his friend. There was some comfort in seeing that John was unarmed. It meant that Rodney hadn't asked his friend for a quick end to his suffering. There was still time.

Carson took a breath and let it out slowly. There had to be a cure for Rodney's condition. There just had to be. He stood, his back popping from hours and hours of researching the Ancient databases. Beckett walked over to the bed studying his friend closely from behind Sheppard's shoulder. He watched Rodney for a while, not interrupting John's story.

"... then I walked up to her, drinking in her shrouded curves with my eyes. Every nerve ending in my fingers was aching to touch her. I reached out, tentatively, until I touched the fabric. I pulled back the satin sheet, slowly revealing her gentle curves, until I could see her in all her glory. I was in love," John said huskily. "She was the most beautiful Corvette Stingray I had ever seen. I'd have given a months pay just to sit on her leather seats ..."

Carson smiled as he checked the chart hanging on the IV pole, and was dismayed to see it was well past time for Rodney's next dose of pain killers.

At that moment, Rodney's eyes popped open and looked right at him as if the scientist had read Carson's mind. Through gritted teeth, he said, "No."

Beckett nodded. It was unusual for Rodney to refuse pain meds, but he understood why. Rodney felt he had to keep his wits about him, that if he quit thinking the microbial infestation would ruin his mind.

Without Rodney's mind intact, the dream Beckett had earlier would prove Sheppard's shot was not murder, but merciful for the scientist. In the dream, McKay hadn't cried out, when shot, because of the pain killers he'd been given, making the killing shot a painless and quick end.

It was an end that Carson couldn't ethically provide his friend.

An end he'd fight to his dying breath to prevent.

Carson turned away from the two friends and returned to his computers again. He drank a good mouthful of cold coffee before he continued scanning the files the computer had chosen as having possible connections to what was wrong with Rodney. He knew the problem was bacterial, but the little buggers acted like parasites concentrating in the lobes of Rodney's brain.

Suddenly, he sat up straighter as he realized that several of the articles made a pattern, one he wasn't completely sure about. Beckett tweaked the search parameters a little and a single article appeared on the screen, causing a weary smile to appear on his face. The cure would take some time, but the treatment was simple and he had all of the supplies that he required to save the day.

He went to the med-locker and gathered the items he needed. Beckett went Rodney's bedside. Without permission, he injected the sedative into the IV solution.

"No," Rodney howled as the sedative began to take effect.

"What the heck" John asked as he stood, reaching for the IV line.

Carson placed a hand over John's and said calmly, "It's the cure. The little buggers feed off the electrical activity of his higher brain functions and adrenaline. If he sleeps, his body can fight the infection. Simple as that."

John released the IV lines and opened his mouth to speak, but Beckett wasn't done yet, "Yes, you were all infected, but you've all slept except Rodney. I didn't see the connection until I slept myself."

A soft noise changed Beckett's focus and he looked down at his patient. Rodney was dropping off to sleep. "That's it, Rodney, get a good night's sleep. You'll be fine in the morning."

Beckett turned to Sheppard, gesturing with his thumb, "Now off with you. Let Rodney sleep."

Sheppard shook his head as he sat back down in his chair. "No, I'll stay. He'll need to know the cure wasn't a dream when he wakes. I won't bother him."

Carson nodded and returned to his office. He had a new organism to classify and write up for his growing collection. It would take a while even with the Ancient database's help. As he crossed the threshold of his cubicle, there was a loud noise, he jumped. For a moment he thought it was a gunshot, and then realized someone had dropped something in one of the labs.

"It was only a dream," he told himself sternly, "a nightmare that will not be fulfilled tonight."

Carson sat at his desk and got to work on his reports.