A/N: Again, many thanks to those who have taken the time to review. I appreciate the feedback very much and would love to hear more, including constructive criticism!
For reasons she did not want to admit to, Teyla found herself putting off her visit to the infirmary. It wasn't that she doubted Ronon's identity as John did, but she cringed at the thought of once-smoldering eyes now blank and cheery. McKay's check-in time was looming by the time she found herself outside the infirmary, being helped into a hazmat suit by Dr. Beckett. Among her drifting thoughts she realized the doctor was speaking.
"This is jus' for show, really. There are no infectious elements involved, but it's either keepin' him under quarantine or keepin' him locked up somewhere."
"I understand," Teyla replied, voice muffled by the helmet newly-fitted into place.
Beckett sighed, avoiding her eyes. "I don' like all this lyin'. Reminds me of all that with Michael." He said no more, but his silence spoke enough.
Teyla's eyes darkened. Mustering up a smile, she replied, "It is only temporary, Dr. Beckett. Rodney will find the cause of this, and I am certain with that help you will right whatever has changed." She couldn't bring herself to say "bring Ronon back", despite what those empty, happy eyes told her.
He looked at her gratefully. "Thank ye', Teyla. In ye' go, now."
She found Ronon sitting on one of the beds, long legs stretched out in front of him and hands clasped in his lap. "Hello, Teyla," he announced cheerily.
"Ronon." She did not have to force the wide smile that came. For a brief moment, she forgot the scans and strangeness and wondered why he found no reason to smile like that normally. "It is good to see you."
"The same, of course. Do you think Dr. Beckett will allow me to leave soon? I feel fine, and it is unecessary to keep me here."
The unease crept back, but she smiled. "The moment he is sure of this, yes. Despite what John may often say, Dr. Beckett does not keep him patients longer than is necessary."
Ronon's face became a mask of seriousness, a far more familiar expression, but still wrong somehow. "You always understood people better than most, Teyla." How could his words seem so earnest, yet spoken as if of the weather? "Our other friends haven't come, as you have. They almost seem to distrust me."
Teyla hesitated. "It is not that," she began, striving to choose her words carefully. "Rodney needed to return to Ardon to discuss an important matter with the Regent."
"And Sheppard?"
"He is...quite busy. With performance evaluations."
The bluff was weak, but he didn't call her on it. "I will look forward to it, then. But that does not explain why they act so strangely. My memories do not recall them acting this way in the past."
Her eyes wandered around the room, as if something in the isolation area would prompt the right words in her mind. "You have not been acting quite like yourself."
"But that is a good thing. There were many things wrong with me in the past, but my spirit has been cleansed. You will not have to be concerned with the flaws any longer."
Her throat tightened. "What do you mean? No, nevermind--Dr. Beckett and Rodney will make things right again." It was what she had been telling herself all this time, after all.
Realization came into the blank eyes. "Is that what this is, then? Do you all think I am diseased from the Pergatum? No, no." He shook his head in pitying disbelief. "It's completely the opposite. The spirit was diseased."
Teyla stared at him. She took a clumsy step back, hampered by the hazmat suit. "You are not saying this," she said emphatically. "You are not saying this. Ronon did not need to be changed." She spat the last word like a foul thing.
"Teyla, gear up." John's crackling voice over the radio was more than welcome.
She turned away as quickly as the cumbersome suit would allow her. "I must go." With that, the isolation room and its occupant was left behind, but she could not draw her mind away.
When she arrived at the gate, John, Major Lorne, and two men she recognized as being from Lorne's team were already there. It always felt so wrong whenever a mission began with anyone from the team absent, and now only half of her team stood in the gate room. As she approached John greeted her with a weary smile. She could see apology in his eyes, though Teyla felt none was needed.
"Dial the gate," Dr. Weir's voice came from above, but she was cut off.
"Incoming wormhole! Dr. McKay's IDC."
"Lower the shield," Weir replied quickly before starting towards the stairs.
"Going for fashionably late, Mckay?" Sheppard quipped the moment the scientist appeared. Teyla noticed how despite the joking, the colonel's gaze studied Rodney for any sign of harm. Other than dusty clothing and gloves that dripped water, though, everything appeared normal.
Ignoring the comment, Rodney approached Dr. Weir. "Our problems are solved," he said simply.
Elizabeth's brows shot up, looking both skeptical and eager, but before she could react her brow furrowed in worry and she tapped her earpiece. "Carson, what is it?"
"It's Ronon!" came the tinny response. "He's passed out an' not respondin' to any attempts at revival."
Sheppard shot McKay a harsh look. "Solved, are they?"
With dull eyes, Sheppard watched the doctors and assistants buzzing this way and that around Ronon's bed. He absently noted that their mouths were moving and words were being said, but it didn't matter. All the medical jargon would have gone over his head even if he were paying attention.
He could only stare for glimpses of the patient in between the white lab coats and try to piece together the brief moments into an image. His friend lay perfectly still; not as in sleep, not like a statue, not like any comparison his mind could settle on. It was as if he was a thing that had never moved and was never meant to move.
The daze Sheppard found himself was riddled with doubt. What if Ronon died? What if his own last actions towards him was to avoid him? Would he be able to handle it if that came to be true?
"Sheppard?" Carson's voice behind him was unexpected, but Sheppard didn't have the will to be startled.
His voice sounding strange to his own ears, he asked, "How bad is it, doc?" He tore his eyes away from their vigil and looked up at Carson.
"I really wish I could tell ye', John." The doctor shook his head, leafing through charts on a clipboard. "But I've never seen anythin' like this before."
"This is another galaxy," Sheppard tried to quip, "you should be used to that." Realizing how pathetic that sounded, he added, "At least tell me what you've got."
"To put it simply, we're tryin' to isolate the cause of his condition. Accordin' to the scans, he should've been like this nearly a day ago, but somethin' had to have triggered it. An' we still don't know what caused the abnormalty to begin with. I'd have guessed some sort of virus, but there were no contaminants in his blood. And if it's somethin' we cannae detect, it's going to be even more difficult an' more risky to treat."
"Work on it." It came out harsher than he meant it, but didn't correct himself.
"We are, lad." There was a hint of defeat in Carson's voice that Sheppard refused to acknowledge. Instead, he again turned to stare, unseeing, at the blur of white that veiled his friend.
"I'm telling you, it's fine. He's going to wake up any moment." McKay stood with his hands in his pockets, idly watching Dr. Beckett fill a syringe.
"How can you be so calm?" Sheppard demanded angrily. It had been hours since Ronon's collapse, but the infirmary outside the isolation room was particularly crowded. The infirmary was free of patients other than Ronon, and apparently Dr. Beckett couldn't bring himself to deny those concerned. The Satedan seemed to be surprisingly popular, though his visitors seemed to mostly consist of women who had crushes on him instead of personal friends. Many of these were herded away before long, but Ronon's team was undisturbed. That is, from the outside.
"Because all of us should be calm." McKay responded with a shrug. "The situation will resolve itself, so there's no reason to panic."
Carson looked up from the syringe. "Since when were you ever one not to panic, Rodney?"
"If you knew what I knew, you'd be calm as well."
"Then, tell us," Sheppard replied with forced patience.
McKay shrugged. "You'll see that I'm right. In fact, I have a project to work on. If you'll excuse me..."
Sheppard glowered at Rodney's back as he left, then returned his brooding gaze to the doorhandle of the isolation room. Teyla seemed ill at ease, glancing between the two of them, but apparently deciding to remain.
When McKay arrived at the lab, he found Zelenka leaning over a pair of laptops and mouthing silently to himself. The Czech didn't notice Rodney's presence until he standing just behind him, watching lines of data flash by rapidly on the screens.
"What are you working on?" McKay asked.
"Rodney!" Zelenka exclaimed, jumping to his feet and backing away from the laptops. "I just needed comparison to some data you had on your computer, I swear I didn't change anything." He raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"Go ahead, I wasn't going to use the computers anyway. Do you know where the plants are kept?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the room.
Zelenka blinked, conflicted about what to be more surprised at: the question or the lack of rage. "The botany lab?" He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Rodney, if you're looking for Katie Brown, she's going to be gone for a few more days."
"No, I said I was looking for plants. There is work that needs to be done."
Zelenka eyed him skeptically, but brought up a small map of the city. "For all the bragging you do about your sense of direction being better than the Colonel's, I have to say, at least he doesn't forget his way around Atlantis." He pointed out the botany lab on the map. "So," he ventured, "starting a new project?"
"I have work to do, if that's what you mean." Rodney's eyes scanned the map for a route, then with a smile and nod at Zelenka turned to leave.
"Wait, Rodney--"
McKay stopped. "Yes?"
"I have to ask. Normally when anyone in your team is in infirmary you bring half the lab there and won't leave until they've completely recovered."
McKay's expression remained unchanged. "Like I keep telling the others, Ronon's going to be fine. There's nothing to worry about. Now, let me do my work, and you can continue with whatever that is you're doing there."
The moment McKay was out of sight, Zelenka returned to the laptops and opened a half dozen programs on McKay's computer. Grinning, he began his work anew. There was no questioning Rodney when he was caught up in the beginning ideas of a new project. Whatever he was up to, there's no way Zelenka was going to let an opportunity like this slip by.
