A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. It's been a busy week. That and it wouldn't let me upload a document all weekend. Enjoy.

Chapter 10: Not Crazy

Still in the realm of dreams and unconsciousness

Dr. Carson Beckett awoke to find himself staring at the ceiling, or perhaps he'd been laying there awake for some time—it was difficult to tell. He vaguely recalled Dr. Weir telling him to take some time off. Apparently, he must have given in, because here he was in his quarters.

After a moment, he got out of bed and proceeded to get ready for work. Once he was showered and dressed, Carson made his way to the mess hall to get a cup of coffee before heading to the infirmary. Everyone seemed to be acting strangely, many of them looking at him with sad smiles, almost as though they pitied him.

"Good morning, Dr. Beckett," a young woman greeted him near the coffee machine, her expression full of sympathy. He didn't even remember her name.

"Good morning, lieutenant," the CMO returned with a smile. He wended his way towards the infirmary. At this rate, he'd only be a few minutes early. Stopping in his office to leave his coffee to get cold on the desk, he hurried towards the intensive care section. Pulling back one of the curtains, he halted. It was empty. The bed was empty! Carson's heart skipped a beat and he felt a knot begin to form in his stomach.

"Where's my patient?" the Scot demanded, approaching two of his staff. Doctors Keller and Cole looked up from what they were doing.

"I beg your pardon?" Dr. Cole asked, obviously confused.

"Rodney—where is he? I wasn't informed he'd been moved," the man responded.

"Carson?" Jennifer questioned slowly, exchanging a look with the other woman.

"It's a perfectly logical question!" Beckett exclaimed, mildly irritated. "He shouldn't have been moved—at least not without consultin' me first." His two staff members wore the same sort of expression as the others he'd encountered that morning, only now, they no longer tried to hide their pity. Dr. Keller put a hand on his arm.

"Have you gotten any sleep since you got back?" she asked gently. "Dr. Weir said you could take as much time as you need . . . honestly, Carson—we can handle it here."

"Take as much time as I need for what?" Carson demanded. "Since I got back from where?"

"Do you really not remember?" Dr. Cole inquired, concern filling her tone. As he looked from one of his co-workers to the other, the knot in the pit of his stomach morphed into a very distinct sinking feeling. Tears stung his eyes, causing them to appear even bluer as realization slowly dawned upon his features.

"Oh, god . . ." he murmured. "From Earth, ye mean? A few days ago we got back from Earth where we—we had a . . ." Carson left the words unspoken—they were too painful to utter aloud. He slowly pulled away from Jennifer's soothing touch before turning and leaving the infirmary. He felt numb, his thoughts processing sluggishly—too sluggishly. How could he have been so daft? How could have forgotten so soon that . . . that he had failed? That Rodney had died? He stopped suddenly.

If it had truly happened, how could he forget at all?

---

In reality, 5 days before the present

"Radek," Dr. Elizabeth Weir said as she entered the lab where the Czech was working. "You said you had something."

"Dr. Weir," he returned, finishing off something on the data pad as she came up beside him. "Yes, we were able to determine which virus it is that's making Rodney and Carson sick. According to the Ancient data base, this particular virus remains virtually undetectable in the system until it has great enough numbers to make the host sick, which is why Carson became ill right away and Rodney did not."

"Is it contagious?" the woman wanted to know.

"Yes, but only for about the first fifteen minutes after a person falls ill, which means the only person at risk right now is probably Colonel Sheppard, possibly Dr. Markham, as well. But that's not all," Radek met her gaze. "They had just discontinued working with that particular virus before the lab was shut down."

"Why?" Weir asked, though she wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

"Well, as I mentioned before, the Ancients wanted to use the viruses to incapacitate their enemies as opposed to actually killing them. That is why nearly all the viruses have an antivirus," he replied.

"I'm not sure what you're getting at . . ."

"It doesn't have one."

"One what?"

"The virus that's making Carson and Rodney sick—it doesn't have an antivirus," Dr. Zelenka told her. "The Ancients stopped working with it because they didn't have the time to find or create one."

"Will they get better on their own?" Elizabeth asked.

"No," the man answered grimly. "Unless we can create an effective antivirus, they're both gonna die—along with anyone else who contracts the virus."

---

In Carson's mind

Carson Beckett, PhD, purposefully made his way through the corridors. He'd tried two different locations as well as using the radio, but he'd been unable to locate the man he was looking for. There was one more place he wanted to try. As he stepped out onto the seldom-used balcony, he let out a sigh of relief to find that he'd finally been right.

"Colonel Sheppard," he said, making the other man aware of his presence. John continued to stare out across the broad expanse of ocean that surrounded Atlantis. Carson came up beside him.

"I know what you're going to say," the air force officer finally spoke. "You're gonna try and convince me that it wasn't my fault—that I shouldn't blame myself—but the fact is, Rodney was shot watching my back. If I'd been paying closer attention . . . it should've been the other way around."

"Actually, I was going to say that somethin' isn't right," Carson responded. "This whole situation—I don't think any of it is real." The colonel turned to give him a strange look.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"Well, apparently, several days have passed, but I don't remember a thing, not to mention the fact that none of you have any idea who it was that attacked you," the doctor said.

"It was a bunch of guys with projectile weapons!" John said sarcastically. "What more do you want?"

"Was it the Genii?"

"I—I don't know!"

"I should think that you would know whether it was them or not. That, and I highly doubt I'd be able to forget my best friend dyin' in my own infirmary. No, colonel, I think there's something else goin' on," Carson told him earnestly. "It's like this is all some sort of elaborate dream." They looked at each other for a moment.

"I never thought I'd say this to anyone," John finally said, "but I seriously think you need to have a chat with Dr. Heightmeyer." He turned and left the balcony.

"I'm not imaginin' things!" Carson called after him in frustration. "Somethin's not right here!" With a sigh, the doctor turned his pensive gaze out over the ocean, trying to figure out what could possibly be going on.

---

TBC . . .