Friendly Fire

By: Antares Star

Chapter Seven: 10-24a

PG-13: For character whumping, blood, and language

A/N: And now the shit hits the fan! Thanks for the kind reviews, enjoy, and hold on!

jennamajig - thanks, and no, it doesn't sound like fun!
Espiritu - Yeah, I didn't mean to fool you, they just mean so many different things!
Jules47 - Exactly! No one can replace Beckett, you'll see him get a bit miffed at his staff later!
Emma - Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer, I can count on one from you every chapter. You like Völker; you can have him at the end of this fic! lol, accent, nail biting and all.
flah7 - Thanks, you gotta love McKay!
Greywolf Lupous - Wohoo! Seal of approval, yeah, Rodney could send anyone over the edge.
truthurts6 - Thanks! Next chapter soon as I can
Dr.E. Vance - lol thanks, enjoy!
Jaws - Oh don't worry, I could never forget Carson! Just gonna give him some actual stuff to do now, he's sick of lying in bed.
fanficaddict - thank you very much! enjoy!

xoxoxoxoxox

Sheppard didn't know nor care where he was going, he just wanted it to be away from that damned infirmary. A simple growled "shut up" had quieted Rodney's stuttering and attempts to negotiate.

Taking a left, another one, going straight through the Chair Room then stepping through an archway to one of the balconies overlooking Atlantis took less than a minute. Rodney leaned away from the edge, seeming to think Sheppard and heights did not mix at the moment. "Sit." Sheppard pushed him against the ledge wall. Rodney lowered himself gingerly.

"Major, may I ask what you are doing?" Sheppard ignored him. "Because, you know, I think taking one person hostage is enough for a day." He stuttered, "And I-I'd be number two, so let's say we part ways. Here. Now?" He began to stand but Sheppard slammed the business end of Jackson's P-90 down on his shoulder. "Ow, jeez!"

John leaned an elbow on the rail and scanned the still water. "I just don't want to be alone right now."

McKay raised his brows, speechless. What the hell?

"Is it too much to ask for a friend to be with me?"

Uh yeah. Opting for a more delicate way of putting it, Rodney awkwardly patted the hand that was grasping Jackson's gun, acutely aware Sheppard's fingers were wrapped loosely around its trigger. "Of course, friends, that's us! Yes sirry, you and me, best buds."

"You babble when you're nervous."

"I do not babble. I am not nervous. You see, me and nervous, no way." He sliced the air with his hand.

"You're babbling." Sheppard locked eyes with McKay. He seemed tired suddenly and rested heavily against the ledge.

"Oh, okay, sorry."

Sheppard slung the gun over his shoulder and allowed his hostage to stand.

"So, what's n-new with you?" Rodney tried to sound casual, but the effect ended up more pained. Sheppard looked away and sniffed. Omygod, is the man crying? What the hell am I supposed to do? He lightly rapped Sheppard's back.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing! That was me, patting your back, li-like friends do." He opted to rub instead. "See, these are circle rubs, very soothing." Sheppard glared and he halted his circle rubs hastily.

"It's only a matter of time before they find us Rodney."

'Rodney'? Since when have we done the whole first name thing? Okay.

"Yes I know, uh John."

"Just tell everyone goodbye for me."

Before Rodney could even think about what that meant, Sheppard gripped the railing and pulled one leg up. Oh hell no. He grabbed the man around the middle and yanked him back. They fell in a heap, breathing hard. "You aren't getting away that easy, you still have to apologize to me for this scar." He gripped Sheppard closer as he struggled. "And thank me for saving your sorry ass."

That was the exact moment three security guards ran through the archway having finally tracked them down.

"My ass is not sorry."

They stopped dead. McKay and Sheppard were intertwined and panting.

"Oh, hello sirs."

McKay scowled unpleasantly.

xoxoxoxoxox

He'd been upgraded to two security guards. Tests were run and the doctors had finally started paying some attention to Sheppard. His venom had been upgraded from "unknown non-harmful" to the status of "emotionally debilitating with possible physical consequences". About time.

And now he was bored since McKay was deeply absorbed on his own laptop. He leaned over to see, but the scientists snappily shut his computer. "Something I can help you with Major?"

Sheppard started up another game of Alien Invaders and leaned back. "No, just wondering what you're still doing here. You obviously have consuming work."

"Well, I'm waiting for the diagnosis."

He felt deep gratitude. To know someone would stand by him even through times like this. "I didn't know you cared."

Huffing and reopening his laptop, McKay answered, "Carson's. I'm waiting for Carson's diagnosis." That had been a bit harsh, but he was pissed at Sheppard.

"Oh, right." Sheppard returned to his game, not buying the tough guy routine for a second.

After the eleventh game of Alien Invaders, Sheppard's boredom was shattered by a foreign mumble that sounded suspiciously like a curse. He glanced up to see Dr. Völker rise to his feet in a flurry of charts and papers. He went over to the adjoining lab, bumping distractedly into a cart full of scalpels.

"Could you take a look at this?"

Two doctors emerged. "Hans, what is it?" A tall dark man, Dr. Brooks, asked in concern.

Völker led them over to the area he'd been working in. A microscope was set up amid several stakes of papers. "Sheppard's blood sample."

Dr. Padgett pushed her dark hair from her face and peered in. She jerked in surprise, eyes wide. Brooks pushed forward. He came up looking more confused than surprised. "Is that what it looks like?"

"I don't know." Völker bit his nail. "I'm lost, these are alien life forms!"

Sheppard was lost too. His laptop beeped in distress and taunted "Game Over" in flashing letters. Ignoring it, he hopped down from his bed and joined the circle they'd formed around the microscope.

"What the hell is going on?" Three pairs of eyes came to rest on him. He rather thought they'd forgotten he was there.

Völker took a second to form an answer. "This is from a sample of your blood."

Sheppard looked through the scope. "Okay, looks to me like…little, jumping kiwis."

"Kiwis?" Rodney shot from his seat in an instant. "Oh God, that sounds like a virus or-or infection!"

"No!" Völker corrected quickly. "Not exactly. Well, not a regular one anyway. It doesn't have the correct structure." He rubbed his face. "Look, we don't know yet. But there's something in your blood."

"Well obviously. Something's making me act like this." Waiting for more, Sheppard picked at his bandage. At the continued silence he realized he'd have to push for a full explanation. Scientists never seemed to realize when they'd left someone in the dark. "Crazy, suicidal, impatient."

Völker took a deep breath. "Yes, but we assumed it was the venom you received. This is something different."

"Great. Incredible. Not only do I have crazy juice dancing my blood, I have a virus too!" Sheppard was beginning to get the telltale heat that came before an outburst. These idiots called themselves doctors?

"Major, that isn't the real problem --" At Sheppard's reproachful look Völker stuttered, "Sorry, but you have to realize if it's a virus, the entire base could be in danger!"

Considering the doctor's words, Sheppard tried to get his mind around it. It just didn't make sense. "Well, wouldn't people already be sick? Wouldn't they be acting like I was earlier, you know," he lowered his voice unconsciously, "crazy? Bananas."

Rodney sighed, "Bananas? Again with the fruit. Look, what does this mean, am I in danger?"

The doctors exchanged a look. "It's not really a virus, doesn't appear contagious, but we need to test right away. All of us."

Right now, Sheppard couldn't help but think that Carson's staff was less than competent. If they got out of this mess he would never make another Highlander reference again. Ever.

xoxoxoxoxox

Sheppard was sitting and rather tired of it. This was the second time the doctors had drawn blood from him in an hour. Dr. Weir and Rodney stood on either side of him and looked keen for an explanation.

"Okay, what's going on, from the top," Weir asked in a no-nonsense voice.

Waiting for the blood to fill, Völker answered. "The closest thing we can compare this too is a virus, however it lacks certain characteristics. He doesn't seem to be exhibiting any viral symptoms either." He began gnawing at his nail.

Rodney gesticulated impatiently. "Are you approaching a point?"

He pulled the needle from Sheppard's arm. "Yes, it doesn't appear contagious. No one else has tested positive yet, with two exceptions, uh you Dr. McKay, and Dr. Wallace."

"What!" McKay stared at him shell-shocked. "I'm not sick, I don't feel sick! Do I look sick?" He touched his face worriedly and turned to Elizabeth, who placed a calming hand on his arm.

"We don't really understand what we're dealing with here because of the lack of carbon in it. That would be delving into a newer branch of science known as non-carbon biology--"

Rodney cut in impatiently. "Yes which is what we were studying on PX7-349 in the first place. Life based on non-carbon elements. We don't need a vocabulary lesson; must I remind you of my impeding doom?" He snapped his fingers impatiently. "What does non-carbon biology have to do with anything?"

"It means we have no idea how to fight it." Brooks revealed. McKay muttered something unsavory about physicians.

Pocketing the blood sample, Hans said, "Good news: the virus shows no signs of having spread to anyone outside of the mission, and it's been twelve hours."

Elizabeth collected herself. "Find an answer to this doctors." They disappeared into the adjoining lab, already talking rapidly.

Weir shared a worried look with the two infected men. It was abruptly broken by Ford entering, followed closely by Teyla. Stating rather triumphantly, he announced, "Ma'am, we have one shark per your request." They held a container between them.

"Excellent Lieutenant. You and Teyla need blood tests before you leave." He shot a confused look at her as two nurses plucked the container from his grasp, and sat him on a bed to roll up his sleeve.

A sound from the corner of the infirmary stole everyone's attention. They went over to find Carson stirring. The attending nurse gently nudged him.

"Carson, can you hear me?" Elizabeth came to a stop on the other side of his bed.

It took a second for him to answer. "Aye, I heard everything." His eyes, normally such a clear blue, were clouded and tinged unhealthy yellow. It was disconcerting as far as Sheppard was concerned. His eyes traveled from Carson's bruised nose to his glaringly purple and blue arms. Guilty was too small of an adjective for how he felt.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Elizabeth took a cold hand, minding his IV line.

He gulped, turned quickly away from her and retched dryly. The nurse quickly pulled a bucket out but Carson had collapsed back on the bed. Elizabeth stroked his pale cheek, trying not to let her worry shine through.

Blinking quickly at her touch, Carson managed to focus, even give her a small smile. He was much more coherent than last time he'd woken. His gaze moved from Elizabeth to Sheppard, who was standing back a little and he couldn't help but shudder. The major looked back to normal, but who knew? Resolutely, Beckett tried to pull himself into a sitting position. The nurse protested and attempted to push him down again. "Let me up lass, and get Hans will ya."

With an astonished sound she left to inform Völker. Carson was struggling but couldn't quite raise himself. Sheppard automatically reached forward to lend some support. At his touch, Carson let out a little strangled yelp and recoiled so badly he nearly fell off the bed.

"Whoa, sorry, I…" Sheppard backed up and lifted his hands. "I…sorry."

"Nay, it's me, I just…" Carson's voice cracked and he couldn't hide it; he was scared shitless of Sheppard right now. Rodney scooted Sheppard aside with a glare. "Major, I--"

His words were broken into by Dr. Völker. "What happened?" His accent made the question sound unduly harsh.

"I-I don't know! He just sat up like nothing's wrong!" The nurse stuttered.

"Carson! I don't believe it, how do you feel?" Völker spared a glance at the monitors before grabbing his boss's wrist. Elizabeth beamed and gripped his other arm, as though to assure herself he was real and solid.

Twisting carefully so his legs hung off the bed he replied, "Could use a bit o' whiskey if ya know what I mean, but I'm alive." Völker checked his pupils. "Look, I've been up for a fair bit and heard everything." Determination flashed in his eyes. "I want to help."

Already shaking his head Hans said, "Absolutely not. Must I remind, you're still recovering from a rather nasty animal bite. Open."

Carson obediently opened his mouth. Völker couldn't believe it, no sign of swelling in his throat! Only hours earlier the man had barely been able to breathe. He leaned back, considering his patient, and chewed thoughtfully on his thumbnail.

"Stop that! How many times must I tell ya son." Carson slapped Völker's hand from his mouth. "Does unsanitary mean anything at all in here?" He looked like he might throw up again but managed to gulp it back. "Look, I realize I've been ill, but I feel better. You need my help. I can't just sit here. Elizabeth, please."

Already dismissing it, she replied, "I appreciate what you're trying to do Carson, but not a few hours ago you were on death's door. You need time to heal."

He replied, "I will. But we need to determine what this infection is and why Lydia and I didn't test positive when three others on the mission have." Determination was written on his too-pale face.

"Five." Interrupted Brooks, peeking from the lab. "I just looked at Teyla and Ford's blood."

She considered Beckett a long moment. Although he looked rough with a day of stubble and hair sticking every which way, he seemed alert and eager. "Yes, all right." Weir silenced Völker's objections with a raised hand. "I want you sitting, and no running around; nothing too strenuous." He nodded quickly and smiled again. She couldn't believe how well he looked.

Völker almost whimpered, "I just don't understand! You can't get better from something like this so quickly!" At that moment, Dr. Thompson groaned and shifted. Hans spun to face her, looking decidedly faint. "What the hell is going on here? The rest of your team gets sick and you get better?"

xoxoxoxoxox

It rather amazed Rodney that morning when the sun rose, brilliant and glorious as ever. A shroud seemed to have settled around the infirmary with the bleak diagnosis of five people infected with an unknown substance.

An independent testing facility was set up in one of the biology labs. Blessedly, no one else showed signs of the substance. It was confirmed the virus was not contagious, a great relief. It was somehow confined to the people who'd been on PX7-349, although that theory seemed inconsistent since Carson and Lydia were clean. In fact, they both seemed suddenly and inexplicably recovered.

Everyone on Atlantis was working together to help. The team of biologists, including Dr. Thompson, studied the shark Ford had brought back. Several chemistry specialists focused on the chemical makeup of it. The physicians continued to look for any way to combat it.

Now, in the Chair Room, Rodney snapped at Zelenka, the only person patient enough to work with him. "No, no that's wrong!"

"What do you mean? I don't see wrong," Radek replied without a trace of irritation, not even pausing as he pecked on the laptop. They were working together to access any information the Ancients may have stored in the Atlantis database on PX7-349 and its nasty critters.

Rodney resisted an eye-roll and spoke so quickly Zelenka had trouble catching it all. "You can't look under 'non-carbon biology'! They didn't have such a thing. It'd be under, uh, pathogens or PX7-349." He reached around Radek to tap in the search. The computer took a second before several files popped up.

Bending so low over the screen his glasses threatened to slip off, Radek pointed. "There, 'Viruses Composed of Inorganic Materials'."

An impatient sigh. "Yes that would be nice if we had a nanovirus problem. Its not gonna help us."

Radek shrugged. "Could help, biologists say virus is composed of silicon and phosphorus." He clicked the file.

Rodney was losing patience. This was a waste of time and every minute was a minute closer to…well, who knew what; death, disfigurement, coughing up one's bleeding lungs bit by bit. He wrestled his thoughts away from that scenario. "This is useless." He pushed the computer away. "We need Sheppard! Where is he?"

"Someone call for me?" The man in question entered the Chair room, followed by his security escort.

Rodney stood quickly, wincing when his shoulder pulled against its bandage. "Where have you been? This is important. I called you over ten minutes ago."

Sheppard held out an arm for them to see why he'd been late. "Oh my," Radek whistled. It had several angry needle holes dotting it. "You look like druggie." Sheppard smiled sourly. He felt like one. It had been a miracle Beckett had let him go. He'd promised to return within an hour, or if he began to feel sick.

"Well, we need you to sit in the chair and see if you can access any information Atlantis has stored. Our computer is linked but hasn't found anything useful yet." Rodney patted the Chair's arm.

Sheppard hopped up. "Why don't you just do it McKay?"

Rodney opened his mouth then closed it. "Uh…"

Patting his shoulder sympathetically, Radek revealed. "Rodney did attempt, however could not bring up information. Not enough patience to work chair, I think." He raised his brows knowingly.

Before Sheppard could comment, Rodney pushed him back into the chair, perhaps harder than necessary. It immediately lighted. "Maybe my shoulder just hurt too much to concentrate. No thanks to you Major. Now focus."

"Jeez, focusing." Sheppard closed his eyes and submerged in Atlantis's database. The first time he'd done it, he'd been slightly overwhelmed, but now it was tolerable. Instead of concentrating on words or files, he just released his memory into the swarm of data. Being universal, pictures worked better than words. "I got something," he breathed. "They've been to PX7-349! But they didn't call it that so it wouldn't have come up on your search. It's a recording, am I okay to play it?"

"Why not," Rodney dripped of impatience.

A few feet in front of the Chair an image flickered to life. It was of a tall man dressed in light colors and holding a stack of notes.

"In regard to Nantolia, the planet is highly unique and although its atmosphere is biologically normal, its life is silicon based which poses the interesting question of how they are able to thrive on a planet with a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere--"

"Okay, skip to the important part." Rodney tapped his fingers restlessly.

"This isn't a TV McKay." Nevertheless, John closed his eyes. As though it'd been downloaded, he knew the man's entire entry. "This is it, here."

The hologram flickered before continuing. "Eating or staying for extended periods of time would prove impossible for any carbon based life form. Ingestion or invasion of organic material on this planet could have extreme effects. A combination of silicon materials on a carbon-based individual could prove extremely volatile or have the opposite effect and neutralize other silicon toxins. It is a very interesting phenomenon and deserves further study."

It blinked out and all three sighed in disappointment. "That was a grand waste of time." Rodney had thought for sure there would be something they could use.

"We learned some, is better than none." Radek said quietly. Sheppard leaned back into the Chair, feeling defeated

"All we learned was it's dangerous to eat or be infected by anything there, and even worse if you do both. Well, that seemed obvious to me."

Sheppard thought about what they'd heard. "That last bit sounded useful."

"Uh yeah, who has the PhD here? Oh, that would be me." He bent to scoop up his laptop. "I'm going to -- whoa…" As he straightened he swayed on his feet and went down to his knees. The world blurred horrifically as the computer crashed to the floor, Rodney not far behind.

xoxoxoxoxox

A/N: Uh oh, and now equal opportunity whumping shall reign, and all shall bow before it.

Chapter Title Translation: 10-24a is Ohio Police code for 'infectious disease'. Although it isn't exactly infectious, or exactly a disease (its non-carbon structure is why Atlantis didn't recognize it as a threat).