A/N: Thanks for the reviews, ladies! The expedition finally home; but how much of the Commander is left to save? Read on to find out...

Chapter Twenty-Five

Cure

Mira's expression over the breakfast table is grim, but not accusatory, as Malcolm tells her of the previous evening's events.

"All for a laptop." She says, after a while, "What a complete idiot."

Janet is very upset, "I don't understand. I didn't know he had a gun; I don't know why he'd do this. I'm really sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Janet." Mira reminds her, "You're not responsible for his behaviour - you're his student, not his carer."

She sighs, "It was starting to feel like it recently. The number of times I had to apologise to people, or get him to leave places when he got too riled up; it was becoming embarrassing - but I didn't realised it had got so bad that he'd got a gun."

"I think this was the first time he felt pushed to use it." Malcolm sighs, "We were getting close to the end of the journey, and I suppose he thought that it was his last chance to get his data back, because we'd be in my labs and I could really steal it from him."

"What will you do with it now?" Janet asks.

"What I always intended to do." Malcolm answers, "Find a way to power up the laptop and see what data he'd accumulated. His behaviour wasn't in keeping with the content of the books I was reading, and I'm becoming even more convinced that whoever reissued the books might not have used the entirety of his original data at all - but revised it using already known information, so his predictions looked more prescient than they actually were."

"I promise he wasn't a charlatan - he really was a brilliant scientist."

"I don't doubt it. The language he used when I was first speaking to him convinced me of that; it's just that his personality was pretty obsessive, and he latched onto something to such an extent that it became the centre of his existence, to the exclusion of all else. I have a tendency to go that way myself." He admits, "I've lived most of my life in one sort of laboratory or another, and it made me a very unpleasant person to be around. I was lucky - I came here, and that change of world made all the difference for me. If he'd been a bit less fixed on that laptop, he might've benefited from it, too."

Mira snorts, "Not even meeting someone like Max would've changed him. He was too far gone." She looks up at Malcolm then, "I imagine you're looking forward to tonight."

"God, yes." He looks around, "Mark's gone outside to check that there's nothing untoward around the vehicles, so we might as well load up and get started. Once the Commander turns up."

"No sign of him?"

Malcolm shakes his head, "Not as yet."

"I don't believe for a moment that he's still in his quarters. I'm wondering if he's trying to take charge outside."

"I suppose the best idea would be to go and check. I'll do it." Malcolm rises from the table, "He's back in the 'I don't trust the sixers' zone."

He is not surprised to find that the quarters assigned to the Commander are empty, and makes his way back to the exit to find that Reynolds is in the process of persuading Taylor not to depart alone.

"Dammit, no one else is ready, Reynolds. What is it with Dunham? Why aren't we on the move?"

"It's only six in the morning, Sir. We agreed to depart at seven, remember?"

"Is there a problem, Commander?" He might as well play the 'ignorant' card. He knows that Taylor's awareness of his condition has disappeared as it's reasserted itself.

He turns, looks like he's about to say something he shouldn't, but then changes his mind, "No, Malcolm. I seem to have an unsynchronised watch." He sounds most loath to admit such an oversight.

"We're rounding people up now." Malcolm advises, faking a cheerful smile, "Believe me, I'm as eager to get home as you are."

To his relief, Taylor smiles, "Max. Of course you are; she's a good woman - I don't blame you."

"Leave it to us, Commander. I'll finish up with my rover, and we should be able to get moving in half an hour or so."

"Good." Taylor is now smiling broadly, "Always knew you were a good man, Malcolm."

He watches as the Commander returns inside, "That's the other reason I'm eager to get home."

Reynolds comes to stand beside him, "Me too, Doctor."

Yseult is sipping at some ginger tea and nibbling at some dry biscuits, already fed up with the whole concept of 'morning' sickness. It's not constant, but it's still tiresome, and can strike her at pretty much any time of the day. While she's excited at the thought of telling Malcolm that he's going to be a father again, another side of her is wanting to snuggle up in his arms and cry because she hates the whole concept of being sick.

Erin doesn't get it, of course; she's far too young to understand that Mummy's having another baby. Other than the annoyance of her mother having to abandon her at ridiculously short notice, she's just getting on with her day as usual, and is setting aside that clinginess that followed her forcible removal to the nursery a week or so ago.

There's a knock at the door, and she has a brief moment of nerves before reminding herself that Jackson's still in the brig. Taking her tea with her, she crosses to open it, "Jim! Hi - what brings you over?"

"Good news, Max. We had a call in from Outpost eight last night. Everyone's favourite Chief Science Officer."

"Malcolm?"

"You mean there's another one?" Jim is grinning at her now, "They'll be back tonight."

"And the Commander?"

"They managed to put his sickness on hold while they were away - but whatever they used ran out, so he's out of it again. But he hasn't deteriorated as much as we thought he might, so we can get him to Elisabeth and hopefully she can treat it."

Yseult's face falls, "I hope we can stop this deterioration. The last thing we need after everything we've been through is to lose the Commander before we've worked out how things are going to pan out in the future. I'd want those plans to have his endorsement."

"Me too. I guess we'll see what it's like when he's back." He pauses, as Yseult straightens, and looks dismayed, "What?"

"Sorry - have to run." She hastily shuts the door and he can hear her retreating footsteps at hurried pace.

"Ah." He says, to himself, and turns to make his way back to the Command Centre.

Elisabeth is waiting for him when he enters Taylor's office, "Right." She is all business, of course, "I've assembled all the treatments I can think of for leptospirosis, plus some neuro-stimulating medication to see if we can help his brain build new neural pathways. Given his age, we'll need to give him all the help we can with that."

Jim nods, and sits down, "And what if we can't get him back?"

"I don't know." Elisabeth sighs, taking a seat herself, "If we can't cure this, then perhaps we could use whatever treatment they came up with in the desert. If I know Malcolm, he'll have a full breakdown of the chemical compounds, so we should be able to synthesise it here. I don't imagine it's going to completely arrest the deterioration, but if it slows it down, then at least we can sort out what's going to happen once we do lose him permanently."

"That'll be hard."

"Yes - but when has the Commander ever backed down from a distasteful decision? He's an extraordinarily courageous man, and I think he'd do what was best for the colony without hesitation as he always has; even though it means accepting that he can't lead it anymore."

"And who'll take his place?" Jim asks, mostly rhetorically. It's the ultimate unanswerable question.

"That's something we'll have to deal with when the time comes, Jim." Elisabeth says, reaching across and taking his hand, "We cut ourselves off from the future, so there's no one coming with the Commander's military skills. Guzman can look after that part of the colony - but when it comes to overall leadership? That's something else entirely."

"I don't want to do it." Jim admits, "I'm no politician - I'm just a cop."

"I'm thinking more along the lines of a council, Jim." Elisabeth says, "We need to start electing people, don't we? Even though there are only a thousand of us, we can't live under the command of a single man anymore. It was always going to come to this moment - and now it has. So we deal with it. Taylor would expect nothing less."

"Only if we can cure his problem. Not to mention what we do with Jackson and his bunch - Jackson's convinced that I don't have the authority to try him for any crimes - but if Taylor can't do it, then what do we do?"

"Another bridge we'll have to cross if we come to it." She stands up again, "Come on, Jim. I've got Josh and Skye coming over for dinner tonight, as well as Maddy. The expedition probably won't get here before nightfall, so let's just have a family dinner and look forward to seeing Mark home again, shall we?"

"Fair enough."

There's another knock upon Yseult's door, and she wanders across to find Pete outside, "Hey sugar. Word on the street is that your hubby's due back tonight. Fancy having a cleaning up fairy in? Well, a fairy."

She smiles, tiredly, "That would be great, Pete. I've tried to do a bit of tidying, but it just sets off the nausea again. Malcolm sorted that out for me last time. The only thing he couldn't do was cook - not without poisoning us both."

"I'll get Louis onto that." He grins at her, as she sits down on the sofa again, "How are you doing - after what happened?"

"Which part of 'what happened'?" Yseult asks, "The bit where I was shut up in the house, or the bit where only a sedative stopped someone from trying to do unspeakable things to me?"

"It's not you, you know." He says, quietly, as he bundles together some toys to put in a box, "Mike was a nut, and Tom Jackson's a bully. He only picked on you because Malcolm wasn't here, and neither was Taylor. The power went to his head, so he thought he could have whatever he wanted."

"I wasn't the only single woman in the compound, Pete."

"Maybe not - but you're the only one who doesn't have a male relative lurking nearby, either blood or an in-law. Jackson saw you as an easy target. And you proved that you weren't."

"Not when he had Erin under his control, I didn't." She says, softly, "To keep her safe, I would've let him do whatever he wanted - but I had that sedative left over from when Malcolm was ill. If I hadn't had that - then…" her voice trails off.

"But you did - so the point's moot." Pete's voice is very firm, "He tried, he failed. Your virtue's intact and Malcolm's not living in the dark ages. You know he'd give up his life for Erin if he had to - just as you would. If you want to tell him about it - which I know you well enough to know that you will - then he'll get it."

"I know - and I trust him absolutely to do that; I just wish it hadn't happened. I feel like I'm a nut magnet." She pulls a face, "A nauseous nut magnet."

"Don't you dare - it goes down the bog or I'm leaving." Pete advises, "I do not do sick."

"It's okay. It's passing." Yseult reaches for another biscuit, and starts nibbling, "God, I hope this has subsided by the time Malcolm gets back. The one thing I don't want to do is throw up on him."

"Yeah - that'll really spoil the big romantic reunion." Pete grins.

Dinner in the Shannon household is more cheerful than it's been in a while. Zoe is chattering happily about school again, while Maddy is fidgeting with anticipation of seeing Mark for the first time in weeks. It's a way of life for a Military family, of course, but nonetheless she can't wait to see him. Josh and Skye are collectively happy that everything's settled down again in the bar, and Elisabeth is pleased not to be advising on the treatment of bruises for the first time in at least two weeks.

"Boylan's been taking care to have a good listen to conversations while he's been delivering beer, Dad." Josh reports, "The gossip's pretty definitive about Jackson being the one who killed Parker. I think everyone knows that it was him - the trouble is, it's just speculation. No one can prove it."

"I'll see what we shake out of the others when the Commander's back." Jim says, swirling a rather nice berry wine in his glass, "I imagine that they'll be pretty quick to point the blame at him when they realise that he's trying to blame them."

"Don't you just love all that honour amongst thieves?" Skye says, cheerfully, but then she looks thoughtful, "D'you think we'll have to banish Tom from the colony?"

"I dunno." Jim admits, "I think we'd all rather not - particularly given that Jackson's a bully who had power go to his head. He's not Andrew Fickett - we can't keep him under house arrest; but then again, we can't afford to start chucking people out of the Colony. There aren't enough of us; and, whether we like it or not, he's still capable of having kids, so we kind of need his DNA even if we don't need his attitude."

Skye nods, "I wouldn't put it past him to grovel like hell once the Commander's back. He'll know that he's one step away from being thrown out, and who wants that? It's the ultimate sanction, and Taylor's only used it once - and that didn't last very long."

They eat in silence for a while. No one wants to see someone exiled - not in this environment - but what do they do with someone who's caused such uproar in their community? Not to mention the killing of a fellow colonist. Imprisonment isn't really an option - but nor is the death penalty. The colony's just too small to start executing people, even if anyone thought it would be justifiable to do it. But then again, they can't just act like nothing happened. They have to do something.

"I think I'll leave it to the Commander to decide." Jim says, eventually, "That's what he's paid to do, after all."

It's very frustrating. If he were driving himself, then Malcolm would probably go faster; as he knows these routes well. But there's a convoy behind him, and he doesn't want to get separated from it - not with the evening drawing in. It doesn't do to be apart from a group of vehicles in a forest at night. Not one that's full of dinosaurs, at least.

Two rovers back, Washington is sitting back and smiling, "You must be pleased to be getting back, Commander. It's been a hell of a trip."

"Don't I know it." He grins at her, "Jaunts out into the desert to find portals. God, I must be getting old - all I want right now is to get back home and hit the sack."

"I know that feeling. The best part of this is knowing that there are no rosters to do for the overnight stop. That's always the biggest chore."

"That's why I get you to do it."

She leans in close to him, "And I do it so well."

"Better than anyone else."

She yawns, "Yeah. I think that I'll hit the shower, then bed. Tomorrow, we hit Boylan's and celebrate the end of a long trip out."

"Count me in."

At the head of the convoy, Malcolm is straining his eyes for the lights of the Colony, knowing that he's only got one more hill to crest.

"Finally." He says, relieved, "Home."

Behind him, Janet looks out over his shoulder, "Why does it have those walls?"

"To keep the dinosaurs out, Janet." Mira supplies, "You've only seen buitreraptors - we have brachiosaurs coming by quite regularly. They may be herbivorous, but their feet don't discriminate between ground and houses. The biggest threat are the acceraptors and carnotaurs."

Janet falls silent. She knows what happened to her professor last night, and the fact that he was killed by a dinosaur is still sinking in, "So, they can't get inside, can they?"

"No. The fences are too high and too strong." Malcolm advises, "We get the odd pterosaur overhead from time to time - though there's one species that used to breed here - so we had to find a way to redirect them to new breeding grounds. They were pretty nasty creatures, though it was just territorial behaviour."

"You sound so accustomed to it all."

"I've lived here for nearly ten years, Janet. I've acclimatised to it - not to mention the fact that I came here by choice. Once you've had a couple of days to get settled, I'll show you my labs. If you're a climate scientist, then we could do with your knowledge - it'll help us make sure we don't repeat humanity's mistakes."

The gates are rising, and someone up on the tower is waving at them. The lights are pretty bright after the dark approach, and Malcolm is squinting painfully as he looks around for someone to greet him. While his preference is for it to be his wife, at the moment, anyone in the senior team will do. He needs to get the Commander into the infirmary as soon as he can.

Fortunately, he spots Jim approaching, with Elisabeth not far behind, and pulls up. "He's two rovers back. Be careful - he thinks that Lieutenant Washington's alive again." His voice is low, to avoid alerting the gathering crowd. It's only then that he gets out and greets Jim more overtly, as Elisabeth makes her way to where Taylor is pulling up.

"How did it go?"

"A bit of everything, I think, Jim. We had good things happen, and bad. I'll file a report in the morning if that's okay?"

"Sure. Max is probably still at home - I told her you were due back tonight, but she's probably putting Erin to bed or something. It's been something of a marathon here, too."

"So you'll be putting in a report as well, then."

"Yep." Jim is grinning, then turns to find that Guzman has arrived, "Good - grab a security detail and get the vehicles back to the garages. I think that our expeditionary heroes are wanting to head for home."

Guzman nods, "I'll get an inventory off Dunham." He turns to summon Reilly, who trots over and accepts his instructions with an efficient nod.

"You go and find your wife." Jim advises Malcolm, "I'll take care of the Commander."

"Hang on - before you do, we have three survivors. We lost one on the way back - long story. We need to find them some accommodation for tonight before we take stock in the morning."

"I'll see to it." He turns to see Janet emerging from the rover, Mira standing nearby, "You look after the Commander, Shannon. I'll get our guests a bed for the night."

"Thanks, Mira." Relieved that he only has one problem to deal with, he hastens over to Taylor's rover, where Elisabeth is being as diplomatic as she can be, "I appreciate that, Nathaniel - but just humour me. I had some odd results from your blood tests before you went out, so I need to be sure that it's nothing. You're rather important to this colony, and we'd rather not lose you just yet."

Irked, Taylor steps out of the rover, "I'm fine, Doc. But if you insist."

"Everyone will be coming by in the next couple of days for the same attention - I just want to check you over now." Elisabeth adds, "It's all routine."

He can't argue with that - it's standard protocol for people returning from outside the colony to get a medical check. It's just not usual for it to happen so immediately.

"Is it me, or is that looking too easy?" Mira asks Malcolm, as he carefully retrieves the laptop from the service panel.

"Elisabeth's pretty good at diplomatic persuasion, Mira." He answers, "I imagine she'll stuff a sedative into his arm as soon as she can so that she can get him onto a bio-bed and see how much damage she's got to reverse."

"I'll look after our arrivals. You go and see Max."

He smiles at her, "Thanks, Mira. Not just for this but - for keeping us alive."

"It's my job, isn't it?"

"Yes - but thanks all the same." Turning he hastens for home.

It doesn't take long, and he can see that there's a light on in the house, though he can't help but wonder why his wife wasn't waiting in the marketplace. Is she ill?

Trying not to be worried, he opens the door, "What - no streamers or bunting? Don't you love me anymore?"

Yseult looks up, startled out of a light doze on the couch, but she stares at him for a moment as though she can't believe he's really there. Then, at last, she moves, "Malcolm - you're home."

"So I am." He smiles at her, opening his arms as she approaches, and enclosing them about her as she cuddles up to his chest, "Are you okay?"

"Mostly." She mumbles into the cotton of his shirt, "God, you smell sweaty."

"Thanks, I think."

"Come on. Shower." She pulls at the front of his shirt, and he follows her, "Then news."

"News?" He looks intrigued, "What sort of news?"

She smiles at him as she unfastens his shirt, "What, you want to know now?"

"I've never not been a nosy parker. You know that."

"I'll tell you in the shower."

Grinning cheerfully, he shrugs out of the shirt, and draws her close as she begins to remove her own clothes in order to join him. For a while, there's just the sound of water coming from the shower head - but only for a while.

"You're what?"

Elisabeth reviews the results on her plex, and takes a sip of herb tea. It could be worse - but then again, it could be better. Whether they like it or not, while she can stop the delusions, and get the Commander back to the present, that's it. He's not going to be the same man he was before he was bitten - there's a bit too much damage. He won't be able to process thoughts as quickly as he once did, and his memory is going to be patchy. It is, however, better than nothing: with a senior team that's suitably empowered, it'll be enough.

Rising from her desk, she wanders through to the ward, where the Commander is sleeping, granted privacy by curtains while a nurse checks his vital signs. The medication that's eradicating the parasite is still suffusing his bloodstream, so he's under sedation for the time being; but there's no getting away from the fact that whatever compound they isolated out in the desert is the only reason that she can do this. In terms of getting him back, they really were down to the wire. Without it, he would've been too far gone to bring back.

The sound of footsteps rouses her attention, "How's he doing?"

"I don't know yet, Jim." She accepts his embrace, "The damage isn't reversible - but there's enough of his neurons left to take on the work that was done by the ones he's lost. We should be able to stop him from seeing Lieutenant Washington, and the memory blanks that accompany those hallucinations - but it's going to make him far less able to make snap decisions, and he's going to need our help a lot more than he ever used to. He used to want it - but now he's going to need it."

"But we'll get him back, right?"

"Mostly. I think we could have issues with memory lapses now and again - but he'll essentially be the Nathaniel Taylor that we know."

"Better that than the alternative."

"I'll ask Malcolm to investigate that compound, though. It saved the Commander - if he hadn't been taking it, then we would've lost him long before he got back. I think Maddy's been looking for a doctoral project ever since she went back to work. Perhaps she can do it."

Jim nods, "Oh - how's the skipper doing?" He turns to look across the way, where another wall of curtains conceals Mateo and Diego, who has been sitting over him since they were escorted in from the convoy.

"Much better. It looks like he was mildly allergic to one of the ingredients of the compound, so I've taken him off it and gone back to a good, old fashioned splint. His results are very good - so he should be mended in about six weeks."

"Mira's sorting out housing for them."

"I'll recall the arrivals team." Elisabeth says, "It's a difficult enough transition as it is when you know you're coming - but to be wrenched here? That's a very different thing - they'll have a lot of adjusting to do."

"Well - we'll help them, won't we? That's what a community's for."

She nods, "That we will." Turning, she leads Jim back to her office, "I just need to log off - then we can get out of here."

Safely behind curtains, Taylor opens his eyes and looks up at the ceiling, "Hell, this is strong stuff."

"It would be." Washington's eyes are a little sad, "That's what sedatives are for. To keep you sedated."

"You should get your head down."

"I can't," She says simply, "And I think you know why. Don't you?"

He's silent for a while, "Yeah."

She looks around the small space enclosed by the white walls of the curtains, "This isn't what I would've wanted for a goodbye - but, hey, when are we given a choice?"

"I should've done something to save you." He says, a lump in his throat.

"You did. You got me out of that filthy world and into this one. I had years of life in a place where I could breathe unaided - where I could see the stars. How does it get better than that?"

"But Lucas…"

"I know." She smiles at him again, "That wasn't your fault. Sometimes we want the impossible, don't we?"

"We do." He agrees, "You were in my head all along, weren't you?"

"I think so. It was a good place to be; I think I was in your head a lot, wasn't I?"

"More than you should've been." Taylor admits.

"Perhaps - but we both know it's time for me to go. Even if I wasn't really here."

"Am I having a discussion with my own imagination?"

"Does it matter?" She smiles again, a warm smile that he recalls from harsher, crueller times. A smile that could call him back from the darkest of his memories and moods. A smile that he lived for…

"We had good times, didn't we?"

"We sure did. But there are plenty more good times to come for you, Nathaniel." She addresses him by name - something she rarely did in life, "Don't waste them looking at the past, okay? Make me glad that I knew you - that you're still the man I loved."

"I promise."

"I'll hold you to it." She says, softly, bending to kiss him on the cheek. For a moment, it's as though there's something there - the briefest flicker of contact like the brush of a butterfly's wing. He closes his eyes, not wanting to see her vanish.

When he opens them, she's gone.

"Your vitals are excellent, and everything's looking very good indeed, Commander." Elisabeth says, smiling at him, "I think you'll be pretty disgusted to know that you're going to have to leave the infirmary and get back to work."

"Much as I respect and like you, Doc, those are the words I've been hanging on for for nearly two weeks." Taylor grins at her, "Thanks for what you've done - I know I'm not gonna be the same as I was before I got bitten, but I'm getting there, right?"

"I think so." She agrees, "Just bear in mind that your thought processes are going to be a bit all over the place for a while longer - take it easy for a few more days."

"Just as long as you mean 'a few'. I'm not being signed off for six weeks or whatever."

"Fair enough. One week."

"Three days."

"Five."

"Done."

Elisabeth laughs, "Go on - get out of my infirmary."

Taylor is not surprised to find Jim in the Command Centre, with Malcolm and Yseult alongside. There's a lot to catch up on, and he's curious to know what happened in the Colony while he was away. Doubtless not that much with Shannon in charge - he'd trust that man to the ends of the earth and back.

"I hear you're going to be parents again, congratulations." He is not surprised to see that Yseult's left hand is in its customary place upon Malcolm's thigh, and they're sitting very, very close together.

"Thank you, Nathaniel." She smiles at him, "It's good to see you up and about again."

"It's good to be up and about again." He agrees, "I've got a lot of catching up to do. When do you want to have the longest senior staff meeting we've ever had?"

"Sooner rather than later, I think." Malcolm sighs, "I think we've all got a lot to report."

"Fine. I'll schedule it as soon as possible."

"I'll only come if there's cake." Jim warns.

Taylor snorts with laughter, "I'll have Malcolm bake it."

Rising from his chair, Jim steps aside, "Have your desk back, Taylor. I don't want it back for a very long time. If ever."

"Just as well." Taylor advises him, "'Cause you're not getting it."

He knows they're watching him - but he understands why. From what Elisabeth was saying, he would previously have regarded such scrutiny with intense paranoia, instead of accepting it. But he does accept it; well, mostly.

It's not perfect; but it's a start.