Author's Note:I haven't been able to figure out if McKay's diabetic or not, so I'm assuming, for the flow of the story, that he is (a friend told me he is, and hypoglycemia, which I know he suffers from, is often a side effect of diabetes). If anyone knows for sure, please, please, tell me :D

Another Author's Note: I have never had, nor known anybody who's been in the hospital for diabetes, or anything like that, so I apologize if anything medical in this chap is wrong.

P.S. - Kudos to willowscribe03 and custarpringle, who also got my Star Trek challenge right :D (Gee, hope I don't run out of ZedPM's grin)


Beckett was trapped in his dream again. Back at Hoff, again watching someone close to him die...

...only this time, that person was Rodney McKay. He grasped at Beckett's hand, begging the doctor to save him, to at least end the pain. Beckett couldn't move, couldn't disentangle himself from this twisted parody of his friend, watching as blood began to flow, squeezing itself out of every crack it could find, pouring over the bed, onto Beckett's knees. Beckett screamed, but no sound came out of his mouth.

Suddenly, everything disappeared, and Beckett found himself kneeling in pure brilliant whiteness, wondering if it had finally happened, if he had finally died.

"You're not dead yet, but I can't save you much longer."

Beckett looked up at the apparition of McKay. "Who - why?"

The apparition shook his head. "I cannot tell you that, only to trust me. Trust me to help you find a way."

Somehow, Beckett got the feeling that those words applied not only to the apparition McKay, but the real one as well. He nodded slowly.

"Trust your feelings..."

Beckett jerked to a sitting position in his bed, finding his breath coming in ragged gasps. He was back in the infirmary, and Dr. Leonard was once again hovering by his bed. "Dr. Beckett?"

Beckett waved the young doctor away. "Bad dream. Don't worry yourself on it." He shook his head, clearing it of the last vestiges of sleep, then looked around. "No word from Rodney, yet?"

Dr. Leonard shook his head. "No, Doctor. Not yet."

Beckett looked at the clock, then started. He'd been asleep, according to the numbers, for almost 10 hours. He hoped McKay had come up from the library to get something to eat. The man's blood sugar was prone to draining quickly, and Beckett was worried that McKay might end up passed out again from it. For a moment, he debated going down to the library himself. As much as he wanted to check up on McKay, Beckett really didn't want to walk down that hallway. He was terrified of meeting up with the ghostly Perna again, so much that McKay had ended up having to walk Beckett back to the elevator last time they were down there.

Granted, McKay had volunteered. Beckett had been touched that his friend had noticed his discomfort. It had made the walk to the elevator easier, especially since Beckett had been distracted the entire time by McKay ranting about the dust, making Beckett laugh. With a sigh, Beckett rose out of bed. McKay had been kind enough to help Beckett through his completely baseless phobia, the least Beckett could do was make sure his friend was okay.

Just as Beckett reached the door, ignoring Leonard's protests, the intercom crackled to life.

Beckett paused.

"McKay to infirmary. Beckett, get your ass down-"

Beckett listened in growing horror as a thick thud echoed through the intercom, followed by a deadly silence.

He didn't realise he was running until he reached the elevator. Stepping inside, Beckett punched the correct button on the panel, waiting impatiently for the doors to open again.

He ran again down the hallway, almost ramming into the wall as he tried to make the turn at full tilt, then skidded to a stop just inside the library.

McKay was laying on the floor, his face an unnatural shade of white. Heart pounding in his ears, Beckett knelt beside him and took his pulse. It was racing even faster than Beckett's was. Not to mention that the skin felt cold and clammy. Beckett swore loudly. Obviously, McKay hadn't eaten anything. Just as obviously, he was in the middle of a very dangerous hypo-glycemic reaction. Beckett knew that McKay's system wasn't able compensate for a drop in his blood sugar levels.

McKay's breathing was coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Beckett didn't have much time. Not nearly enough, he realized, to get a medical team down here. McKay had to get to the infirmary now.

Giving a growl of desperate frustration, Beckett did the only thing he could think of - he grabbed McKay under the armpits, and began dragging him to to elevator. He grimaced as they left the raised dias the chair was sitting on, McKay's body thudding dully on the dusty floor.

It seemed to take forever to get to the elevator, Beckett dragging McKay as quickly as possible, sweat pouring down his face. Positioning McKay against the wall of the elevator, Beckett reached up, stabbing at the infirmary button, before kneeling beside his friend. McKay's breathing was getting more ragged, his pulse growing erratic. Beckett fought against the urge to panic. "Rodney," he whispered hoarsely, "Don't do this to me. I can't lose another friend. Please."

The elevator door slid open, and Beckett shouted out for help, before once again beginning to drag McKay towards the elevator. Dr. Leonard appeared almost immediately, followed closely by Major Sheppard, both of whom helped Beckett hoist McKay onto the nearest empty bed.

"Get me an IV, now!" Beckett snapped at Leonard. He himself rushed to a nearby cabinet and threw it open, searching for a moment before grabbing a small bottle. He pulled a syringe out of a drawer underneath, and filled it full of the liquid. After getting the air bubbles out of the needle, Beckett jabbed it roughly in McKay's arm, praying he wasn't too late. By that time, Leonard had returned with an IV, as well as a heart monitor. Beckett hooked up both machines, watching as McKay's heartbeat returned to normal. It seemed like forever before McKay's eyes fluttered, then slowly opened. "Huh?"

Beckett waited silently while McKay took in his surroundings, then turned to the doctor with a groggy. "C'rs'n? Whahapend?"

Beckett took a few deep breaths to calm himself before responding. "You had a severe hypoglycemic reaction."

McKay's eyes widened, filling with guilt. "Oh." The grogginess appeared to be wearing off, but Beckett waited a few minutes before speaking, anyway. He used the time to usher both Sheppard and Dr. Leonard out of the infirmary, aware that McKay was watching his every move. Finally, Beckett turned back to his patient.

"Rodney," he said quietly. "If you ever, ever, pull a stunt like that again, you'll be pulled off the off-world team. Permanently."

McKay flinched, but nodded meekly.

Somehow, seeing the gesture pulled all the anger out of Beckett, leaving him feeling drained. He pulled a chair over beside McKay's bed, and slumped into it. "Oh, and Rodney?"

"Hmm?"

"You really need to go on a diet."

The immediate protest from McKay comforted Beckett. If Rodney was up to complaining again, he was definately okay.

The thought followed Beckett into a deep, dreamless sleep.


McKay watched as Beckett slept, slouched in the chair with his head almost against his chest, breathing deep and even. He looked peaceful.

Kinda attractive, too.

For a moment, McKay prepared to argue the voice again. Then he took another look at the doctor. Damn it. He did look kind of nice, despite the fact that he also looked purely exhausted. Which reminded McKay of the scroll he found. For a moment, McKay considered waking Beckett, to tell him about his results, but changed his mind. After the scare McKay had probably just given him, the doctor deserved some rest. Instead, McKay quietly rose from the bed, and pressed the button on the intercom. "McKay to Major Sheppard," he said, half-whispering.

"Sheppard here. Glad to know you're alright."

"Thanks. Get down here, I need to talk to you." McKay paused. "And be quiet."
It took about five minutes for Sheppard to get to the infirmary, during which time McKay stretched, wondering if maybe Beckett didn't have a point about the whole diet thing. Granted, he reasoned, it was sort of a moot point. Aside from a few frozen dinners some insightful technician had snuck in, the only food available was military rations. Maybe more exercise, then.

McKay's pondering was interuppted by the whoosh of the infirmary door sliding open, to reveal Major Sheppard, who gave McKay a lopsided grin. "What's up?"

McKay rolled his eyes. "I need you to go get something," he said shortly.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "And what might this something be?" he asked.

McKay explained about the library and the information pad. "There might be a clue to Carson's condition in it," he finished.

"And you want me to get it."

"Did I not just finish saying that?"

Sheppard's grin widened. "Glad to know you're back to being your usual obnoxious self," he commented, before striding out of the infirmary.

McKay bit back the urge to yell a completely inappropriate word after the Major. After all, the man was technically his superior. Besides, the sound would probably wake up Beckett, who was still sound asleep.

McKay slid back into bed, leaning back against the wall, and resting his hands above his head. He found himself once again watching Beckett sleep. The doctor still looked quite handsome, and McKay sighed.

Come on, admit it.

No.

Admit it.

Fine. I have - feelings - for him. That doesn't change a thing. And I'm most certainly not telling him.

What if he feels the same?

McKay thought about this for a moment. Beckett had always been very close to McKay, but he was quite sure the doctor felt nothing outside of the bounds of pure friendship. He was also pretty sure that telling Beckett about these new - feelings - wuld probably cost McKay his closest friend.

Beckett stirred in his sleep, and McKay watched as the doctor's eyes eased themselves opened.

Beckett yawned. "Heavens. Did I fall asleep?"

"Yup."
Beckett sat up, stretching. "Felt good."

"Looked good." The words were out of McKay's mouth before he could stop them. "Er -- Looked like you really needed the rest," he added hastily, as Beckett gave him a strange look.

"Yeah, guess I did." Beckett smiled. "How're you feeling?"

"Better." McKay swallowed. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I didn't mean to worry you."
"I know." Beckett shrugged. "I know how you feel, Rodney, I really do. But there's a difference between blaming yourself and trying to kill yourself."

"Well, it's not like I was trying to pass out in the middle of nowhere."

"You obviously weren't trying to prevent it, either."
McKay had no response for that, but was saved the effort of having to think of one by the arrival of Major Sheppard. "Here ya go."

He handed McKay the translator pad.

"Thanks," McKay muttered, engrossed in the pad.

"What, no sarcastic and snide comment?"

Looking up, McKay threw Sheppard his iciest glare, which only served to widen the Major's grin. "Gee, thanks for the emotional support. I'm touched."

A moment later, McKay found himself comparing the Major's grin to that of the Cheshire Cat's. He decided the cat's was probably smaller.

"Don't tell me you found something."

"Might have found something," McKay corrected, finding his place in the pad again. "Still no way to get the thing off, but I think I know what's going on with your ghosts."

"Ghosts? What ghosts?"

McKay groaned. He had forgotten that Sheppard was still in the room. McKay made a mental note to apologize to Beckett later. After everyone had left.

"I'll explain later," Beckett said, waving off Sheppard's question. "What did you find, Rodney?"

"Well, here's the thing. This bug-thing - it's feeding off your emotions. That's why you keep seeing Perna - your feelings about her are so strong. The entity is sort of manipulating your mind to see her, get those emotions hiked up."

Beckett blinked, looking surprised, and somewhat freaked out. "But what about you?"

"My theory is, that's your own doing."

Beckett gave McKay a look that managed to be both icy and fiery at once. "Are you accusing me of seeing things?"

McKay hurried to explain himself. "No, what I mean is, I think there's a part of your mind that's fighting it. It's sort of tapped into the creatures visual manipulation abilities, probably because of your gene, and is using that to warn you." McKay shrugged. "Like I said, just a theory."

"Interesting," Beckett said thoughtfully. "Not very informative, but interesting."

McKay sighed. "And you're a doctor," he said scathingly, more joking than serious.

Beckett just looked at him. "What in bloody hell are you talking about, Rodney?"

"Now that you know it's trick, the bug's going to have a hard time convincing you that you're really seeing Perna."

Beckett seemed to think about that for a moment. "Actually," he said finally, "I knew it wasn't really Pearna the first time."

"Oh. Damn." McKay found himself at a loss for words. Suddenly, inspiration struck. "Well, maybe we should just ask the locals."
Both Beckett and Sheppard looked at him. "Locals?" they asked simultaneously.

McKay grinned. "This was a geological survey, complete with dialling address. If there are people on the planet, they've probably figured out how to deal with these things."
"If they haven't been totally wiped out by the Wraith," Sheppard commented.

"You have a better idea, Major?"

Beckett sighed. "This means I have to go through that bloody Stargate again, doesn't it?"