Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is not mine; the following work of fanfiction is for fan enjoyment only. No profit is being made (sigh).

Epidemic

By Kerr Avon

4. And So It Begins...

Once they had arrived, Sheppard finally released his tenuous grip on consciousness and slid bonelessly to the floor, despite Teyla and McKay's best efforts. "John!" Teyla heard Weir cry, then the sound of pounding feet.

"Stay back!" Rodney yelled. "Don't come any closer!" When everyone came to a skidding halt, he continued authoritatively, "Someone get a med team and stretcher down here, but tell them to wear isolation gear." He then caught Elizabeth's eye. "I think it's contagious, and I think it's bad. When Sheppard sent Ford back, he seemed fine himself. A few hours later, he's moribund. We need to keep this contained."

"We know, Rodney. When the lieutenant came through several hours ago, he joined two others in the infirmary. Beckett has no idea how many might have been exposed, but has a separate quarantine room in the sickbay for the people we do know about." The red-clad medical team arrived just then in masks, gowns, and gloves. McKay was discouraged to note that Beckett wasn't among them; things must be really bad in the medical unit.

He gulped nervously. "Teyla and I have had direct contact with the Major here." He looked down to where the orderlies were lifting the limp man onto the stretcher. "We have to consider ourselves contaminated, and go to the quarantine area."

Weir nodded. "I'm glad you realize that, Rodney. One of these medical personnel will show you the way."

Rodney replied irritably; "I know the way, I showed it to Beckett. You cannot risk further exposure of personnel to this strain. We'll go ourselves."

"May I contact my people?" asked Teyla.

'How can she stay so calm at a time like this?' thought McKay angrily, 'She just doesn't understand the situation!'

"I'll be happy to give them a message, but I'm afraid we can't risk you spreading the illness to their village." Weir was kind but firm.

Teyla nodded her head once in acceptance. "Understandable. Simply tell them what has happened, and that, so far, I am well." She turned and without further comment followed the stretcher out the door.

McKay looked haplessly at Weir, who managed a sympathetic smile, then exited as well.

Once the medics had 'escorted' the two ambulatory teammates to the quarantine room, their pace with the stretcher increased significantly. Entering the infirmary, they were greeted by Dr. Beckett. The day had started with Markham's sick-call, followed two hours later by Stackhouse with the same symptoms. Both had slowly worsened throughout the day, with fevers up to 103F at times, and periods of delirium alternating with episodes of truly frightening stillness. He hadn't worried seriously about possible contagion until Ford had stumbled back through the Stargate with a more advanced case of the same disease. The lightbulb went on; these three had all been on the trading mission to Velanos two weeks previously. He had suggested retrieving Sheppard and the rest of the party, but Weir opted to wait until they returned on their own. Hearing the frantic medical summons to the gateroom, he mentally kicked himself for not being more insistent. As the limp body was wheeled onto the ward, he left Stackhouse's bedside to evaluate the new arrival. "Bring him over here." The orderlies did as directed, then dead-lifted the Major onto the Ancient diagnostic bed.

As the monitors lit up, Carson studied them grimly. Pulse 136 and thready, BP 86/40... "We need an IV of Normal Saline stat! Bolus two liters, then run it at 150cc. And get a Dopamine drip set up, just in case." Studying the readouts in greater detail, Beckett became more concerned. The Major was clearly worse than any of the other patients, even Sergeant Markham who had been the first to present almost 14 hours previously. Additionally, the progression of his disease had been much more precipitous, with onset of symptoms less than three hours previously. The man in question began to thrash deliriously as the nurse tried to get an IV line in; it took two orderlies just to hold his arm down for the procedure.

"How's he doing?" Beckett whirled at the soft voice at his ear. Like all the other ambulatory personnel in the infirmary, she was dressed in a full gown, mask, and gloves, but Dr. Weir was still easily recognizable.

"Not too bloody well." His brogue always thickened when stressed. He shook his head despairingly. "He's worse than anybody else, and I haven't a clue as to why."

"McKay and Teyla are not evidently ill but are in quarantine. They physically had to carry John through the Gate."

Beckett nodded. "I would have isolated them anyway. I mean, I have Stackhouse, Markham, Ford, and now Sheppard; I'd have to be blind not to see the pattern, and it would include Rodney and Teyla."

"Their team?"

"As it was composed on their mission to Velanos two weeks ago."

"You think they caught something on the planet?"

Carson nodded. "Stands to reason."

"But I thought that Teyla's people had traded with them before." Weir's confusion showed on her face.

"They have, on numerous occasions. But they've never gotten sick."

"She still hasn't."

"It's possible that they have a natural immunity; I'll check it out after I get the Major stable." Beckett felt a small spark of hope. If Teyla was immune to the illness, or better yet, had gone through it in the past and recovered, she might have antibodies that could be used both for a vaccine and a treatment. But right now... "Run that in wide open; he needs the fluid." Beckett returned to his sickest patient while Weir quietly waited in the background.

-----------------------

McKay's fingers drummed a tattoo incessantly on the desk, his chin resting in the palm of his left hand as he stared at the screen of his laptop, waiting for his symptoms to start. Teyla closed her eyes and took a deep breath; she refused to give into irritation. It was juvenile, unhelpful, and tended to make any situation worse. The drumming continued. 'Still...'

"Could you please refrain from doing that?" Teyla tried unsuccessfully to keep the frustration out of her voice.

McKay stopped. Mostly because he was now sitting bolt upright, staring at her in astonishment.

"I've never actually seen you angry before," he commented in interest.

She closed her eyes and prayed for patience. "I apologize, Doctor McKay, but I am worried and that..." she gestured helplessly at his right hand, "becomes tiresome after an hour or so."

Now Rodney was rankled. "So sorry." He was in sarcastic-mode again. "I told you before, I react to certain doom in a certain way - it's a bad habit." He was spoiling for a verbal fight to get his mind off things and was disappointed when Teyla refused to rise to the challenge.

She inclined her head once in mock-acceptance. "Very well then. Please continue." She closed her eyes and began to meditate.

'Why does she have to be so damn reasonable all the time?' he thought. A sly look at her closed eyes, and he resumed his drumming on the desk. He saw her initial flinch at the sound, and grinned to himself.

TBC...

AN: I reposted the first three chapters because now they've been beta'd. Not a whole lot of changes, but enough to make them worth putting up again. The chapter titles have also been adjusted...