The next three days for Carson was spent sleeping, occasionally eating, and sleeping some more. He'd lost weight thanks to his illness, and his lack of a good appetite was driving everyone crazy.

His fever had finally ceased it's relentless grasp on him; finally dropping to just under 100. He'd gained back a little strength, enough to feed himself, to Rodney's relief.

Carson's coughing continued, and he needed to use the albuterol more than he wanted to. It inwardly concerned him; he was afraid that his lungs had been permanently weakened and rendered him a lifelong asthmatic.

Biro was more optimistic. "It's too soon to worry about that now, Carson. You're a doctor; you know how long it sometimes takes to recover."

Carson knew that she was right. Needless to say, he tried to avoid using the albuterol as much as possible.

The following afternoon, four days after getting off the ventilator, Carson woke up and found himself alone, for once. It was blissfully quiet, but he knew that it wouldn't last. I gotta get outta here, he thought. Before people start buggin' me.

And so, picking up John's tradition of leaving the infirmary before he was ready, Carson got out of bed.

His head swam sickeningly, after having been bedridden for so long. As weak as he still was, he almost fell flat on the floor, but managed to grab the bed and lower himself to his knees. He sat on the floor for a minute, trying to gather some strength.

He really didn't want to move, though. It's a little late fer that! he thought.

Resting his head back against the table beside the bed, Carson closed his eyes, unable to believe that he couldn't even get to his feet. Gotta hurry, he thought. Before I get caught. Somehow, he managed to drag himself up and grab the albuterol inhaler that Biro had given him, dropping it into the pocket of his white scrubs.

Then, holding onto the wall, he left the infirmary.

A minute later, John came from the opposite direction and entered the room, heading towards Carson's bed. He stopped dead when he saw it empty. Looking around and not spotting him, John turned around and dashed out the door again.

Jogging down the hall towards Carson's quarters, he quickly spotted the fugitive slowly walking down the hall, leaning on the wall. Suddenly, though, Carson pushed himself off and stood up straight, and John watched as a few people came from the other direction, smiling at the doctor and asking how he was.

Carson answered that he was fine, thanks, and the people continued on.

As soon as they were gone, Carson leaned heavily on the wall again, coughing.

The sight concerned John, and he hurried over.

Carson tried to control his breathing, not wanting to use the albuterol too often and risk his lungs becoming dependent on it. Suddenly, someone's hands were shoved under his arms, pulling him away from the wall. He gasped in surprise.

"Sorry, doc, I didn't mean to startle you."

Carson looked up at John as the Major pulled one of his arms over his shoulders. Relieved at no longer having to stumble along, Carson leaned against John, grateful for the support.

"Dare I ask why you left the infirmary?" Sheppard said.

"It's drivin' me crazy," Carson answered. "I wanted ta go ta my quarters fer a while."

John nodded as they slowly walked down the hall. "I know how you feel, believe me."

Carson looked sheepish at that, remembering all the times he'd told John 'no' when he tried to leave the infirmary early.

John chuckled, but then he frowned when Carson started coughing again. "That still doesn't sound so good."

Carson sighed, ignoring the wheeze that they both heard.

They reached the doctor's quarters a minute later, and John brought him over to the bed, gently sitting him down. "Need anything?"

Carson shook his head, eyes drooping tiredly. He couldn't believe how exhausting that walk had been. He was grateful that John had found him along the way. "Thanks."

John smiled. "No problem. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone I saw you. Call me if you need anything."

Carson smiled back, and the Major left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Biro understandably exploded when she found that Carson had snuck out. Rodney had come into the infirmary to visit their friend, and alerted Biro that he was missing. She immediately called John, and after finding out that the missing patient wasn't with him, she told him to assemble search teams.

John, of course, knew where Carson was. "Wait, no need for that yet," he told her. "I'll check his quarters first."

"I'll meet you there," Rodney said.

A couple minutes later, John and Rodney both approached Carson's quarters from different directions.

"How long has he been in there?" Rodney asked.

"An hour," said John. "I can't believe it took her this long to find out."

"She was asleep at Carson's desk!" Rodney told him.

"That explains it," said John, opening the door.

They found exactly what they expected; Carson was snuggled in his bed, fast asleep.

Biro's voice suddenly sounded in John's ear. "Well?"

"He's here," John whispered. "Sleeping."

"Well, wake him up and bring him back here so I can yell at him," she said.

If there was one thing about Biro, it was that she never took crap from anyone; not even her poor sick boss.

John was glad that there weren't many people like her on Atlantis. "Aw come on, doc. Give him a break."

"NOW!"

John had to take the radio out of his ear. He scowled at it before putting it back. "Doc—"

"If you don't have him back here in five minutes," she said. "I'll come down there with a medteam and cart him back on a gurney!"

John sighed. "Fine," he answered.

"She's jus' doin' her job," they suddenly heard, as Carson opened his eyes.

Rodney sat on the side of the bed. "Boy are you in trouble."

Carson chuckled, before coughing.

Rodney quickly stood. Even though Carson's illness wasn't contagious, that didn't mean he wanted to get coughed on.

When the coughing stopped, Carson snuggled further under his covers.

"Sorry doc, but we gotta go now," said John. "She only gave us five minutes to get back before she comes to get you."

Carson reopened his eyes "Figures." He sat up, and they helped him stand.

"Whoa," said Rodney, at how limp Carson was. He pulled his friend's arm over his shoulders, holding him up. "How the heck did you walk here?"

Coughing again, Carson simply pointed at John.

"You should've told me," said Rodney, as they helped Carson towards the door. "I could've bought you more time while Biro napped at your desk."

Carson chuckled at that.

When they reached the infirmary doors, Carson tried to pull his arms off their shoulders. "She'll kill me if she sees me this way," Carson said.

His two friends understood, and released their supportive hold, making sure he could stand upright before they let go.

Rodney watched Carson with concern. He didn't look capable of walking by himself.

The door opened, and the three men weren't surprised at all to see Biro standing with her arms folded and an angry look on her face. She said nothing, simply pointing to the bed.

Carson walked slowly, taking wavering steps. The extent of his weakness was evident in the effort that it was obviously taking him to walk.

Before he reached the bed, John and Rodney had to grab him when his knees buckled. They gently laid him down, and he started coughing again.

Biro walked over and grabbed the albuterol mask.

The coughing fit was nasty, and Carson was breathless by the time he finished. Knowing that he'd just made things look even worse for himself, he looked at Biro, contrite.

She placed the mask over his mouth and nose and crossed her arms again. At the look on his face, she glanced up at the ceiling and shook her head. No one could stay mad at Carson when he made that puppy-dog look. That expression should be illegal, she thought. Sighing, she patted his arm and walked off.

John and Rodney watched, shocked.

"How did you do that?" Rodney asked. "You need to teach us how to make that expression!"

Carson blinked, not realizing the picture his face sometimes painted for others. At the expressions that his friends wore, he couldn't help but smile. "Sorry, lads, it's patented!"

TBC