Sheppard was being wheeled into the infirmary on a gurney, Beckett beside him doing all sorts of doctor things.
"This really isn't necessary, Doc." Sheppard told him.
"Yes, it is. You've got a serious laceration on your arm and you've lost a good deal of blood."
"Yeah, enjoy the ride, Colonel. They're makin' me walk."
"You have a splinter, Rodney!" Beckett shouted.
"Yes, a very nasty, painful splinter." McKay hopped up onto an infirmary bed as the nurses/orderlies wheeled Sheppard's gurney to a stop.

"What about Illyria? Where's she?" John asked, fending Beckett off until he got his answer.

"She's in her-your- quarters." Beckett stumbled.

"She hit her head pretty hard!" John yelled, trying to get up.

"And I've sent a whole team of nurses to do as they see fit. Illyria wanted to be in her quarters, says it was going to be crowded in here. Now, let's have a look at this." He stripped off the field dressing to reveal an angry red abrasion on the inside of Sheppard's right forearm. Beckett took a large swab that had been dipped in that yellow-brown stuff that stings like a son-of-a-, um, you know.
"This might hurt a wee bit." Beckett warned.
"OW!" McKay yelped as a nurse extracted his splinter.
"I'm sure it will." Sheppard said, watching them.
"This doesn't sting?" Beckett asked as he swabbed the wound.
"No." He said simply.

Beckett picked up a wipe and started to clean the wound. "I know y'have a high threshold for pain, but this..."
"This is what?" Sheppard asked.
Beckett froze mid-wipe and stared at Sheppard's arm. Now that he had wiped off the blood, the anticipated wound underneath just wasn't there.
" ... gone." Beckett finished in a whisper.
"What?"
"The feeding mark. It's completely healed."
All three men look alarmed.
҉
Beckett was taking multiple samples from Sheppard.
"Maybe the wound wasn't that bad." Sheppard said.
"Then where'd all the blood come from?" Beckett replied.
"I don't know, maybe it just looked a lot worse than it was."
"I don't see evidence of any cut at all."
"That's weird, because it hurt like hell."
"You're sure the skin was broken?" Beckett wrapped up his samples.
"I'm pretty sure. There was a lot of blood! Maybe it was hers?" John said, folding his arm back to stop the bleeding from the needle puncture.
"It was definitely human."
"I don't know. Maybe it was a nosebleed." He got off the exam table and put his jacket back on.
"Is that supposed to be a joke, Colonel?"
"Believe me, this isn't funny."
"Give me half a day to run your bloodwork and analyze it with the data we already have. We'll figure it out."
"And until then?"
Beckett grinned. "You're welcome to look over my shoulder."
Sheppard smirked. "That's tempting, but ..."
"Just go about your day. Oh, and don't forget to bring Illyria in sometime this week."

John was half way to the door when he stopped and turned around. "Why? Nothing's wrong-"

"Oh, no Colonel, just the opposite. This week we can see what gender that wee one inside her is." ҉

Sheppard and Ronan were running fast on the metallic catwalks, out for a little exercise; Sheppard in the lead. They came to a halt at the end of the catwalk. Sheppard looked around alertly for the reason Ronan stopped and then down to where Ronan was draped over the railing, panting for breath.
"I thought you said you were a Runner!" John smiled.
Ronan, breathing heavily as he glared over his shoulder. "That's funny."
"I can usually barely keep up. What's with you?"
"What's with you?"
Sheppard handed him a bottle. "Water?" Ronan took it and chugged it. "All right, sore loser. I don't act like a jerk when you beat me!"
"Yes you do."
"OK, then we'll go around again." He said that exactly as if he expected Ronan to get a second wind and beat him. Ronan handed back the water bottle and walked away.
"You go ahead."
"OK, grumpy. I will." Sheppard headed back up the catwalk at a faster run than when he came down it.
҉
At sunset, Illyria was in a martial pose with her fighting sticks in their workout room. Sheppard was in an equally alert pose with his fighting sticks. Judging by the glow, they've been sparring for a bit. They spar some more, moving faster than they've done in the past. Sheppard actually seemed to be on the offensive, though Illyria was holding her own. She ducked as he nearly landed a good one and stared hard at him.
"Not bad, huh?"
Yes, yes. You're doing very well."

More sparring. It sounded as if they were hitting harder than in the past, too, though Illyria was blocking everything Sheppard sent. So far.
"You have been practicing."
Sheppard tossed one stick aside. "Not really."
They now sparred with Sheppard down to one stick and Illyria still held two. It didn't slow him down a bit, as he spared with one hand literally behind his back, not even breathing hard. Illyria more or less held her own, grunting with the effort, until Sheppard executed some feint and she found herself pressed against the wall with Sheppard's stick pressed against her throat, meeting his fierce glare a little nervously.
Illyria carefully chose her words. "You are showing ... a considerable leap in ability, Colonel Sheppard."
John said intently, not releasing her, "You can call me John when we're off the clock."
Illyria, with an arched eyebrow, replied, "Very well ... John."
John was still intent, hint of a grin. He liked foreplay. "There y'go."
He kept staring at her, not releasing her from against the wall. She was much calmer than one would expect under the circumstances.
"Should we continue, or do you..." Her voice trailed off uneasily. John dropped his stick on the floor, grabbed her face with both hands and lays one hell of a kiss on her. It took a second or two, but Illyria responded enthusiastically. When they broke apart, they were both breathing hard, but from their expressions, it's pretty clear neither knows what to make of that aberrant behavior.
"I'm not really sure just what happened." He said in his normal voice.
Illyria's hand was at her throat where his stick was. "John..."
Sheppard interrupted, a smile on his face. "That was interesting!"
"Colonel Sheppard, please report to the infirmary!" Beckett said over the radio.

She looked frankly relieved, which seemed to put a dent in his obliviousness to her reactions since he pinned her.
"You OK?" He asked.
Illyria pasted on a reasonable facsimile of her normal serene smile, though the gasping breath rather spoils the effect. "Doctor Beckett will be expecting you."
"Yeah."
Her smile slipped fast. He clearly wanted to stay and sort this out, but it was equally clear there might be some urgency to that conversation Beckett wanted to have, and Sheppard left. Illyria remained propped against the wall, letting out a sigh of relief after he's gone, along with any pretense of her aplomb.

That wasn't the John she knew….
҉

In the infirmary, Sheppard sat on an exam table with Weir standing beside him. Weir had a look on her face as if wondering why Illyria wasn't glued to his side.
"The good news is, we can now say with some certainty that Ellia didn't drain away any of your life." Beckett announced. As he spoke, he sat in a chair facing the other two and a computer screen.
"We already knew that." John said.
"I suppose."
"That's the best good news you could come up with?"
Beckett looked uncomfortable. "It looks like you've been infected with the iratus bug retrovirus. The one we were working on to turn Ellia into a human."
Weir gave a slight nod as if to prompt the bit about how they're going to fix this.
"You mean the one that didn't turn her into a human." John said.
"Ellia administered the treatment prematurely. It wasn't ready, it wasn't even supposed to be ..."
Sheppard interrupted. "I'm not blaming you, Doc."
"But you're right. The transformation was into a creature closer to the iratus bug than to a human, and I know how much you ..."
Sheppard grimaced "...hate those bugs?"
With a sigh, Beckett replied, "Yes."
"But, for one ... Ellia was a Wraith.And she took a massive dose of the retrovirus. I mean, do we know how the Colonel's system might respond to the drug?" Weir asked.
"I have no idea. It was never engineered to be given to a human. It was never intended..."
Sheppard's tone rose. "Doc ..."

"...to be given to anyone!"
Sheppard half-whispered, "Let it go."
"The problem is, I have no idea how your body will react! I can't even begin to guess."
Sheppard briefly looked as if that were way too much non-information. "Well, if how I feel is any indication? I'm fine."
Beckett tried not to sound straw-grasping. "It's certainly possible that it's already breakin' down in your system. Ellia's transformation was extreme, and immediate."
Sheppard said to Weir, who was looking wigged. "See?"
Beckett sounded worried. "But the wound on your arm healed unnaturally fast!"
"If there was a wound." Sheppard was now diving headlong into denial without a helmet.
"There had to be! Otherwise, I don't see how you got infected in the first place!"
"She was spitting an awful lot!"
Beckett looked both mutinous and worried.
"So what, we just monitor it for now?" Weir asked.
"Aye." Beckett said and then to Sheppard. "You'll need to check in every six hours."
Sheppard nodded reluctantly. "I can do that."
"And you should probably ..."

"... suspend my off-world activities until we know more?" He interrupted Weir.
"Thank you." She nodded graciously.
Sheppard hopped off the exam table, the picture of good health. "See ya in six hours!"
Beckett nodded as Sheppard bolted out of the infirmary, slapping the doctor on the back as he went. Beckett and Weir stared after him, looking worried.
҉
Sheppard abruptly stripped off his uniform jacket as he entered his living quarters. He sat down on the bed and reached back with his left arm to remove his T-shirt and froze, staring at the inside of his right forearm where it was resting in his lap.
There was a pale, scaly patch of skin surrounded by the same bruise coloration he saw on Ellia, located in the same place her transformed claw-hand pierced his skin. Apparently, it wasn't at all painful since he hasn't noticed it 'til now. Sheppard prodded at it hesitantly, then reached for his radio earpiece.
[Radio chirps static]
"Hey, Doc? This is Sheppard."
"Yes, Colonel?"
"We may have to bump up our first check-in."
҉
Sheppard was lying in the infirmary, being scanned. Beckett in a lab coat and another guy in an Atlantis science uniform were watching and looked concerned. Beckett turned and walked toward Illyria, who is gnawing a thumbnail over by the wall. Even though she had her suspicions about John, she was still going to be there for him. She stopped as the doctor approached and tried to look prepared to hear anything. Their whole conversation took place in fairly low voices.
"The retrovirus isn't breaking down in his system like we hoped it would." Beckett said very softly.
"You're positive?"
"Yes. In fact, it's beginning to alter his D.N.A. If this is allowed to continue, he'll devolve into a creature similar to what Ellia became." Beckett moved to sit at his desk as Illyria let out a worried breath, er suspicions confirmed, then turned to him.
"How long do we have?"
"I'm not sure exactly."
Illyria, still in a low voice, but sharply, said. "Ballpark! Months, weeks?"
Beckett, even more softly, replied, "Days. We have days."
Illyria leaned over his desk, looking intent. "OK, what's the plan?"
"I've injected him with a viral inhibitor. It should slow down the retrovirus as far as his cognitive abilities are concerned, but I'm afraid that's it so far. We're exploring various treatments that may or may not be effective, so ..."
Illyria shook her head vehemently. "No, Carson, we don't have any time to explore." She gestured toward his computer. "C'mon, there's gotta be something in my database that can help you find a treatment!"
"I know that, Illyria. We're doin' our best!"
She stood up, looking away uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, I know. Of course you are."
Sheppard was still on the exam bed, alert in the foreground, Beckett and Illyria in the background. Sheppard was staring rather fixedly at the ceiling, looking grim.
"You should talk to 'im. He's hiding it very well, but if I was him? I'd be scared to death."
There was a pause, as if Illyria would love to put this back on the doctor. Sheppard's profile popped into the shot as he sat up on the bed and looked toward them with bird-like speed.
"How'm I doin'?"
Illyria exchanged a somewhat desperate-to-get-out-of-this glance with Beckett, who nodded at her. She went over to Sheppard's exam bed. Sheppard looked her up and down, then frowned, but sounded like himself for this conversation.
"Anything that has you speechless has me concerned."
Illyria said with a not-quite-smile, "You're gonna be fine."
"Wow. That's dead man talk."
"No, it isn't."
Sheppard turned up his right arm, showing that the scaly patch has grown a bit and changed to an ickily shiny, carbuncle-looking thing. "Have you seen this?"
"Beckett is gonna figure this one out."
"I think I already have. You know who I'm starting to feel like?" He paused for emphasis. "Ford."
Illyria too quickly said, "Now, what happened to you is completely different."
"I know, I know. Still, I can feel it. I mean, I can feel it changing me inside ... like he did."
"I don't think that's even possible. Look, you're very worried ..."
"No, no. No, it's ... .uh..." he paused to find a comparison. "One of the best weeks of my life was when I got my wisdom teeth out. I was on codeine for a full seven days. This is kinda the same. I know I should be in pain, or at the very least freaked out by this, but hey! I'm not ... and that freaks me out more than anything."
Illyria shifted on her feet. "We're gonna beat this."
"'We're gonna beat this'? 'Beckett'll figure this out'? 'You're gonna be fine'? You really suck at the whole bedside manner thing."
Illyria looked away in embarrassment. "I know, I'm sorry."
"But I appreciate the effort." It was silent for a moment. "Illyria….what happened in the gym…that wasn't me- I mean, it was, but-"

"I know…" She placed a hand on his cheek and he leaned into it. "I know." ҉

McKay in the now-empty conference room, walking around a desk.
"The Ancient database has quite a lot of information about the iratus bug. We know what planet it's on, we know that it likes cool damp dark places to lay its eggs."
Weir, Illyria, Beckett and Lorne leaned against other desks in the conference room as Rodney came to a halt, facing them and leaning on one of his own.
"It shouldn't be that hard to locate." Lorne said.
"Wait a minute! The last time we ran into one of these things, we almost lost Sheppard. How do you expect to just walk right in to one of their nests?" Weir said.
McKay clearly wasn't looking forward to that.
"I don't see that we have any other choice. We need the iratus stem cells ... the best stem cells come from embryos! With them, we actually have a chance of saving Colonel Sheppard. Without them, he'll die!" Beckett argued.
"And this is the only option we have?" Illyria asked.
"And time's an issue as well."
"You've no idea what will happen."
"There's only one certainty: what will happen if we do nothing." Beckett covered her hands with his.
"We all understand the risks, Doctor Weir, and I believe that Colonel Sheppard would do the same for any one of us." Lorne said.
McKay still looked hesitant over the bug part, but definitely seemed to agree with the no alternative to saving Sheppard part. Weir looked down for a moment, then nodded her head. "Permission granted."
The men sprang to their feet and head out, Beckett giving Lorne a pat on the arm. "I need an hour to get my things together."
Lorne nodded. "OK, gear up! One hour."
All exit, leaving Illyria alone in the room, still looking after them thoughtfully.
҉
The door opened to Illyria and John's quarters. Illyria entered her room, engrossed in an open file folder. Sheppard entered quietly behind her, followed by an armed Marine. Sheppard's neck was a lot bluer than when she last saw him.
"Look!" He said, pointing to the Marine with a fake grin. "I made a new friend!"
Illyria looked up, hesitated at the sight of his face and then put her file folder down with no other visible reaction to his altered appearance. "Doctor Weir said it was only protocol."
"That's her answer for everything."
"You look well." She looked down, where she saw that Sheppard's right hand had gone crinkly and claw-like, though not as much as Ellia's had, but there were definitely evil hand issues. Sheppard put it in his pocket. "Should you be out of bed?"
"I was goin' a little crazy down there, so they said I could walk around for a bit."
"That's good." She said softly.
They stared at each other for a moment, Illyria clearly wished he was back under medical supervision, or at least not being unnervingly blue and mutated in their room. Sheppard stepped forward toward the bed where she had sat down and she managed not to flinch.
"Look, what I'm trying to say is that I want to go on this mission-"
"Hey, you said it yourself. You are not fit for any off world activity."
Sheppard sat down and ducked his head, then looked up. "The inhibitor that Beckett's got me on, the one that's keeping me lucid? They keep having to up the dose."
"I know. They told me." Illyria whispered.
Sheppard clenched his teeth. "I don't know how much time I have, but the last thing I wanna do is sit on my..." he raised his right hand from his pocket and his voice "... mutating hands, while my team puts their lives on the line trying to find me a cure."
He paused while Illyria dropped her gaze to follow his hand back down and then looked him in the eye again.
"I should be with them!"
"John, no. Doctor-"
"What's the worst that can happen? I, I ... die?"
"You could compromise the mission. They have enough things to worry about ..." She lowered her voice and touched his face, her eyes swimming. "And don't say things like that."
John shook her hand off and gestured with his evil hand. "Oh, no no ... so, what? Suddenly I'm a liability?"
"Your condition can change rapidly."
"I know, and I know I can do this!" John raised his voice.
"I'm glad ... you feel that way. But it would be irresponsible of Doctor Weir..."
"This is my life we're talking about."
"I know that."
Another stare down.
"I'm going on that mission."

Illyria raised her voice a bit. "No, John! You're not."
"DAMMIT!"
His face twisted in rage as he turned and smashed his evil fist into the metal headboard, defiantly denting it. Before John pulled his hand out of the crevasse, the Marine has his sidearm out and aimed steadily at Sheppard. People come running from the corridor and their rooms, other weapons being drawn. They were, after all, in the 'Military housing section'. Illyria stood up, a restraining hand up to the Marine.
"It's OK! Put it down."
The Marine lowered his sidearm, and the others reluctantly went about their business. Illyria turned back to John, who looked chagrined.
John said softly, "I'm betting that didn't sell you?"
Illyria arched an eyebrow. "No. No, not really."
John, still speaking softly, said, "I should go back to the infirmary."

Illyria firmly nodded. "Yes." John went quietly and after a few heartbeats, Illyria went after him. When she had caught up to him, she laced her fingers in his, much to his surprise. But Illyria could tell that he was relieved he hadn't scared her away.
҉
An armed guard was standing in front of a door, sidearm out. He nodded as Illyria approached and stepped aside. She opened the door and paused in the doorway, looking around the dim area on the other side.
"John?" She called out. She turned to the guard, who nodded toward the wall. Illyria reached for a light switch.
"Leave 'em off." John said. He was sitting on their bed, his back to the door.
"What?"
"The lights. Leave the lights off." His voice was harsh. The light dimmed even more as the door shut behind Illyria.
Illyria clasped her hands together hesitantly. "OK." Silence "I thought I should come by and practice my bedside manner." Silence "How are you?" She softly asked as she paced slowly toward him.
"My body's mutating into a bug. How are you?" He replied levelly.
"Would you like an update on your team's progress?" Silence as she continued to slowly pace around the bed. She came round to where she would've normally seen him in profile, but he turned his face away. "They found an iratus cave and they've headed in."
"Good." He said very softly.
"They should locate some eggs and be back here in no time."
John had looked so far away from her, she expect to hear his neck crack. "No time?"
"Yes."
"Then what?"
"Honestly? I don't know." Long silence, as he conspicuously didn't look in her direction. "John, are you all right?" Silence. "Would you like me to call someone?"
"Who would you call?" John said, cutting her off.
"If you need to see a doctor ..."
"I need a bigger security detail."
"Excuse me?" She walked right up to stand within touching distance. He kept his face firmly averted. She could see the whole left side of his face, which looked perfectly normal.
"At least two men, stationed at our door, sooner rather than later."
Illyria looked very worried. "What are you talking about?"
John still rigidly faced away. "Just trust me, Illy. You're going to need it."
"Listen, John ... if ..."
He turned sharply full face to show that his right eye has gone all slit-pupiled and yellow-gold. The blue bruise color on his neck showed a blackened ridge crawling up from his collarbone line. He looked very worried, too. Illyria shifts uneasily, but stood her ground.
"Oh, my God." She whispered, tempted to reach out her hand.
"They need to hurry."
"You should be in the infirmary."
"The infirmary isn't secure. The inhibitor's only keeping me lucid; it's not slowing the retrovirus."
Illyria kept a firm voice. "Still ..."
Sheppard leapt to his feet and got right in her face. She didn't flinch… much.
"DON'T ARGUE WITH ME! I'm not safe to be around anymore." There was more light on the right side of his face, now. The blue bruise color had gone Wraith-gray and quite ridgy, nearly up to his cheekbone. "Get some more men at my door and get the hell out of here."
She nodded and left the room to speak with the guard. "Double the detail."
The guard activated his radio. "Code 1-6."
Behind him, John sat back down on the bed. The guard closed the door and stood with his back to it.
҉
It was night in Atlantis when Beckett was reporting to Illyria in his office. "The nest is incredibly well protected. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. I just don't think it's possible."
"So where does that leave us?" Illyria asked numbly.
"Without the stem cells, our plan is not promising."
Illyria looked devastated. "OK. I'll tell him."
҉
Illyria approached the armed doorway and spoke to one of the two guards. "How is he?"
"I wouldn't go in there, ma'am."
Illyria looked around at the other guard, who is holding a Wraith stunner. "I'll be fine." She opened the door and went inside. It was still dark inside. There was no immediate sign of her lover anywhere. "John?"
She looked around for a while, then turned and nodded to the guard, who closed the door behind her. Although she still couldn't see him anywhere, she talked to him anyway.
"So this is when I usually ask you a stupid question, like 'How are you feeling?'" She walked deeper into their room, looking for him. "John? John? Our team got back from the mission."
There was a thump behind her. She turned, and John was standing right behind her. She gasped at the sight of him. The blue/gray ridging had now travelled up into both of his cheeks and ears and had wrapped around his forehead, although the area around his eyes and nose was still clear. Both of his eyes had now got slit pupils. His neck had ridges on it and there were small tentacles (for want of a better word) growing out of it.
"The nest was too well protected. We were unable to retrieve the eggs. They tried their best ..."
"Best?"
"The bugs attacked ..."
"Try again."
"Can't do that."
"Why?"
"John ..."
"No."
"I understand ..."
"If you won't, then kill me now."
"John." Illyria whispered.
"It's better for the both of us."
"I can't do that." She choked out.
He stepped closer to her. "Then try again."

Illyria stares at him in anguish, then her face became more resolute and she shook her head minutely. Memories of her past came flooding: Her in her court, telling her husband firmly not to go out on the mission that killed him. Illyria did not want the past repeating itself where John was concerned.

Sheppard suddenly surged forward, grabbed her by the throat with his right hand,

pushed her backward and pinned her against the wall. His hand was blue/gray and ridged. Illyria seized his wrist with both hands, trying to hold him off.

"We lost Walker and Stevens. Weir won't send another team!" She gasped for breath. "I won't risk more lives!"
As she continued to struggle for breath, Sheppard glared at her for a moment, then released her, dropping her to the floor. He walked away and as he approached the door, it automatically opened. As Illyria laid on the floor coughing, she heard the guards cry out, grunt and drop to the floor as John apparently knocked the living daylights out of them. Illyria scrambled to her feet, activating her radio as she headed for the door.
"This is Illyria. We have a security breach! Colonel Sheppard's quarters!" She reached the unconscious guards and checked the first one to make sure he's alright.
҉
The main screen in the Control Room showed the message "Biometric sensor activated". The message disappeared and an image of the city could be seen the showed many white dots and one red one.
"OK. We've got a lock on him." McKay said.
McKay, Caldwell, Ronan, Weir and Illyria stood together with some Marines, watching the screen. The red dot moved across the screen.
"That can't be him - it's moving too fast." Caldwell said.
"That's him." Ronan nodded. Once he heard about what Sheppard had done to Illyria, he wanted to kick some mutated bug ass.
"Alright." Caldwell turned to the Marines. "Four teams. Surround him and close in. I want him stopped. And gentlemen - use whatever level force you deem necessary. Move out."
As the Marines started to head out, Illyria turned to face them.
"You will only use such force as a last resort."
"That's not Sheppard any more, ma'am." Caldwell said.
Illyria still spoke to the Marines. "You heard me."
The Marines nodded in acknowledgement and headed out. Ronan started to walk away but turned to Illyria.
"You coming?"
Illyria looked at Caldwell for a moment, then turned to Ronan.
"You bring him back, Ronan." As he left, she turned back to McKay. "Lock down the Stargate."
"Right."
҉
Sheppard walked towards a transporter. As the door opened, a scientist in a white coat was inside. Sheppard grabbed him and threw him out of the transporter, then went inside. Back in the Control Room, Illyria and McKay watch as the red signal jumps from one part of the base to another.
"I thought you said that he couldn't use the transporters." Illyria asked.
"I said I doubted he was lucid enough."
Since Caldwell and Weir were disusing their options in her office, Illyria took control. "Shut 'em down. He's not doing it again."
"Thus stranding the search teams. Nevertheless, he did what he was told.
Over comms, Illyria said, "Bravo Team, you're on deck. Tango is right below you."
McKay watched as their signals get very close to Sheppard's.
"Bravo Team and Sheppard are in the same room." McKay said.
"Stay sharp. He should be right in there with you." Illyria told them through over radio.
҉

In the Infirmary, Sheppard was lying on a bed. He had attacked the team and was trying to escape when Ronan had snuck up behind him and shot him in the back with is gun while he was distracted. John's left hand was withered and ridged and very Wraith-like.

The hand was held in restraints.
"I put him in a medically-induced coma for now. I was afraid he might break through the restraints." Beckett said.
"That's a good call, Doctor." Caldwell nodded.
"So what now?" Weir asked.
"The retrovirus has wreaked havoc on his system and it's taking over." He sounded tired.
"What does that mean?"
"It means if we don't find a way to stop the retrovirus in the next twenty-four hours, what's left of the John Sheppard we know will be gone."
Illyria sat down on the next to John on the bed and held his hand. Even though she and the other people in the room were crepped out that she was rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb, but Illyria couldn't care.

She wanted her John back and if this was the way to do it, then by Goddess she was going to do it.
҉
McKay was sitting at a table the commissary while Ronan leaned on a balcony just next to the table. Illyria came in and went over to them. "You guys are up late."
"Can't you sleep either?" McKay asked. "Any progress?"
"No. He's still in a coma. At least he isn't in any pain."
"Maybe if I went alone, maybe ..." Ronan suggested.
"It's not open for discussion." Illyria stared at him with fearful eyes.
"I'm not good at sittin' still."
"I understand. Believe me, I appreciate how you feel." She looked at him for a moment, then addressed McKay as well. "Look, we have closed down that section of the Infirmary but if you feel the need to ..." She pauses for a long time. McKay realized what she meant and looked down. "What I mean to say is, if you would like ... to have a private goodbye, you should probably do it soon."
McKay looked at her in dread. "Are we really there?"
"I think we might be." She whispered, letting a tear streak down her cheek.
Beckett's voice came over comms. "Illyria, I need to speak to you immediately.
"What is it?"
"Meet me in Doctor Weir's office. I think I have an idea."
Illyria looked at the team hopefully, then headed off. The other two followed her.
҉

Beckett was heading towards Weir's office when he meet up with Illyria and the team as they came up the stairs and they talk as they entered the office.
"I'm sorry, it just came to me. The fact that his mutation has progressed as far as it has may be his salvation."
"Explain that." Weir asked and stood as they all entered.
"His sweat glands are actually producing trace amounts of their signature pheromone."
"And?"
"When we were in the cave, those bugs knew we didn't belong there, so they didn't really fancy us getting close to their nest."
"Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa. I see where you're going with this. If we can artificially create the pheromone, it might be able to confuse them enough to leave us alone." McKay said.
"Aye, that would work."
"Well, that's an excellent plan, Carson!"
"Aye, I wish it was."
"You can't do that in time." Ronan said.
"No, it'd take days."
"But you said John only had twenty-four hours before the damage the retrovirus was causing him would be irreparable." Illyria said, trying to keep her cool.
"Exactly."
"Well, then, that's a terrible plan, Carson!" McKay mended.
"There's only one person on this base that wouldn't need the artificial pheromone."
The team looked at each other.
"Sheppard?" Weir asked.
"He could walk right in that cave and those bugs wouldn't pay him any mind."
"I'm not sure if you've noticed or not, but Colonel Sheppard's not feeling very well." McKay sarcastically told Carson.
"He stopped taking the inhibitor we were administering. It was able to keep him lucid."
"I thought its effectiveness had worn off." Weir asked.
"True. But I believe if we give him another massive dose, he may be clear-headed enough to complete the mission before we lose him completely."
"Yeah, but won't giving him that much inhibitor, like ..." McKay drifted.
"Kill him? Yes, it's a definite possibility. Even if I knew it was for certain, I'd be tempted to offer him one last hour of lucidity."
"Do it." Weir turned to Ronan and McKay. "Gear up, take him as far as the cave."
҉
Back in the Infirmary, Sheppard awoke with a start. His eyes snapped open; he looked horrified that he was still alive. As he stared around in shock, Illyria approached his side.
"John? John." He looked at her. "Hey. You're in the Infirmary."
"Sorry about the headache. It's a side effect of the inhibitor." Carson said as he walked over.
"Did I hurt anyone?" John asked, his eyes drifting to the discolorations on her neck.
"No, not seriously." She told him.
"Did Ronon shoot me?"
She smiled slightly. "You had it coming. Look, we don't have a lot of time. This dose of the inhibitor drug will only last about an hour. How would you like to go on a mission?"
҉
In Gateroom, the Gate was open and McKay and Ronan came up the stairs into the room geared up. McKay turned to Dex.
"Now, you realize that you may have to, uh ...?"
"It's already set to stun."
As they walked towards the Gate, they turned and stared as Illyria came in from another doorway. With her was a Marine and Sheppard, who was wearing a floor length gray cloak with the hood pulled up around his face.
"He's ready." She told them.
"Ah! Good to see you up and, uh ... about." McKay said, but Sheppard ignored him and headed for the Gate.
"Alright, come on, we don't have a lot of time." Carson shouted as he entered the room. He followed Sheppard to the Gate. McKay shared a concerned glance with Weir, who was up in the Control Room, then followed them through the Gate. Illyria watched her men leave.
"Good luck." She said quietly.
҉
Several hours later, the team returned to Atlantis victorious. In the Infirmary, Beckett came out from a screened-off area. Weir, Caldwell, Illyria and the rest of the team were waiting anxiously for him.
"It's not gonna happen overnight - you can bet on that - but the transformation has begun to reverse itself."
"So eventually he'll be back in uniform?" Caldwell asked.
"Eventually."
"Well done, Carson, for once again elevating medicine to actual science." McKay smiled.
"Well, thank you, Rodney!" Carson sighed.
"We'll all finally be able to get some sleep." Weir turned to Beckett. "Keep me posted."
"Aye."
Weir left the room and Caldwell followed her. The team didn't budge.
"We might, uh ..." Ronan began.

"... stay a while." Illyria finished.
"Well, if that's alright." McKay shrugged.
"Of course." The doctor said as he walked away. The team looked through the gap in the screens at Sheppard lying unconscious in bed.
҉