Author's Note: Sorry this took so long - what with one thing and another…

If you don't remember the story up to this point, feel free to check the prior chapters. I've finished, so I'm posting the rest today by way of apology. Thanks for your patience.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters to Stargate Atlantis, nor am I making any type of profit from this story. It is a work of fan fiction, for enjoyment only.

Just a Case of the Flu

By Kerr Avon

Derek swiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, trying to ignore the fact that his throat felt like a cheese grater had been at it for a few hours. Instead, he focussed on Halling's bedside vital signs record, savagely suppressing the slight tremor as his hand flipped through the pages.

"So, how am I doing?", a hoarse Athosian voice asked.

Dr. Lawrence glanced up, startled, then replied, "Surprisingly well, I must say. Your temperature is almost normal, and your oxygen saturation is high enough that I'd like to try you off the supplemental O2." He swallowed dryly against the sandpaper in his throat, then regretted it.

"If you don't mind my saying so, you don't look so well yourself."

Derek smiled at the concern. "I'm just tired; we've all been working around the clock since Jinto came in…" The surgeon glanced meaningfully over at the little boy.

Halling was immediately diverted. His brows drew together worriedly; "How is my son?"

Derek continued to stare at the frail form on the ventilator. "Actually, I don't want to get your hopes up too quickly, but his fever has begun to drop as well. I think we might be able to wean the vent soon…." His hand flew to his forehead as his focus suddenly blurred. His vision tunneled to Halling's mouth moving as he heard 'Doctor? Are you unwell?' from a great distance. Then the world went away.

For his part, Halling was aghast. One moment he'd been speaking with a tired but otherwise healthy-appearing physician, and the next he was watching the man fall to the ground like a bag of cement. "Nurse!" he cried as he struggled to get out of bed. "We need help over here!"

Shelly appeared as if by magic, and knelt by Derek's side. Rolling him over, she placed a hand on the sweaty forehead and cursed at the heat radiating from him. "Of all the stubborn, idiotic…" She pursed her lips over any further invective as she gestured to a nearby orderly to help wrestle Dr. Lawrence to a gurney. As she began to take her new patient's vital signs, Dr. Beckett was suddenly at her side.

"And what's this now?" he asked, his brogue thickened in exhaustion.

Nurse Galas was grim. "Looks like this strain of flu isn't confined just to the Athosians."

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"Doctor McKay…what about corn?" Lt. Ford chuckled at his own joke. He was, by this time, the only one who thought it was funny. Sheppard rolled his eyes as he deftly maneuvered the jumper towards Atlantis. Admittedly, McKay was covered with enough dirt to grow a vegetable garden, but the Major had to admit that he was far from clean himself. The fact that Ford was still relatively pristine…grated.

"Enough, already," he snapped irritably. "Doctor McKay didn't have the advantage of growing up on a farm; 'Sooooo-eeeee' isn't a normal part of his vocabulary." Ford had managed to obtain the samples they needed simply by calling them to the feeding trough for dinner and jabbing them while they ate.

The Lieutenant's smirk faded, to be replaced by a sulking scowl. "He makes fun of me; why can't I return the favor?"

Rodney swung his chair around. "Look, I'm sorry for any prior transgressions, all right? Can we just drop this and get home?"

Ford crossed his arms defiantly and stared at his boots. Taking that as assent, the physicist muttered "Good" and turned back to his monitors. They rode in relative silence the rest of the way to the base.

They were greeted upon disembarkation by a grim Weir; Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "What's happened?"

Rodney, arms full of samples, glanced up startled.

Weir pursed her lips and nodded. "Doctor Lawrence collapsed an hour ago. Dr. Beckett's with him now."

"Then let's get these specimens to Dr. Biro ASAP." Sheppard made a gesture with his head towards the door and strode towards it, trailing his team in his wake.

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Beckett drew a shaky hand across his forehead, irritably trying to wipe the sweaty hair out of his eyes as he studied Derek's monitors. 'Not now,' he thought, 'I haven't even been exposed…' He had been meticulous with the airborne precautions, as had all his team once they realized what they were dealing with. If he caught it despite the masks and gloves, the whole base was going to be affected, and soon. Derek was another matter; he'd been first-contact for both Halling and Jinto. Halling was now nearly well, and his son was off the ventilator and still improving, but his surgeon was another matter. The young doctor's breathing was harsh and rattled wetly upon inspiration, which was the most worrisome to Beckett. Laying his left hand on Derek's forehead, he grimaced at the heat radiating from him. Shelly, never far away, sidled up and grasped the CMO's right hand before Beckett could hide it in his pocket. He had hardly noticed that it now throbbed constantly, and just instinctively used his left for any activity. He glanced up at the nurse in surprise.

"What's this?" she asked, indicating the filthy bandage.

Carson shook his head dismissively. "Och, a wee bairn on our last mission felt that I needed to be injured before being bandaged, so he obliged. I keep meaning to redress it, but with everything that's been going on…" he waved his left hand around to encompass the pandemonium around them.

She examined the dressing critically before starting to unwrap it. "That was two days ago. It'll be a miracle if it isn't infected by now."

Carson winced as the gauze pulled off the wound, taking some scab with it. "Be careful lass! It's tender."

Shelly pursed her lips in frustration as she surveyed the cellulitis. 'Men!', she thought with disgust. 'Don't have the sense to come in out of the rain!' The hand was tense, swollen, and exquisitely tender to gentle touch, particularly near the base of the index finger where the bite had occurred. Pus oozed from where the bandage had pulled loose the scab.

"Can you even bend that finger?" Shelly demanded tersely.

Shamefaced, Carson tried; he managed to wiggle it slightly before having to give up.

"Have you been taking any antibiotics?"

He shrugged. "I keep meaning to, but…" As if to accentuate his point, Dr. Biro came scurrying up, oblivious to the glare shot at her by the head nurse. Shelly rose to gather supplies to properly clean the neglected wound.

Biro was practically bouncing. "We've got the virus isolated! Those animal samples from the mainland were key. It seems the reason the Athosians have been having trouble raising fowl is a strain of avian flu that is specific to this planet. The Wasi that they obtained from Artimesia were resistant to the local virus, but had a new one of their own. The birds have been exposed to it for so long that they don't even become ill when infected, but when it mixed with the local variety in the Portkas…voila… antigenic shift. A new, highly virulent flu is born."

Beckett's head throbbed. He knew the words, but found his patience wearing thin as Shelly soaked his hand in a Hibiclens solution. Sighing, he asked, "Get to the point, Dr. Biro. How long until we have an antidote?"

The slight pathologist shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Well, more of a vaccine, really." Her personality compelled her to continue. "Of course, giving it to individuals already affected might mitigate their symptoms, but it won't…"

Beckett held up his good hand for silence as he bit back a curse. "Just…do it, Dr. Biro. As soon as the vaccine is ready, start immunizing the medical personnel most exposed, and work out from there."

Biro nodded shortly, recognizing a dismissal when she heard one. "Now, if I could get some samples from Mr….Halling, was it? The gentleman who is almost well?"

"Aye, lass. Take whatever you need." As she departed, Carson sighed and closed his eyes, once again rubbing his sweaty forehead. Ever observant, Shelly looked up from where she was debriding infected tissue from the bite site. "I think you should lie down and let me get some IV antibiotics in you. Tired, feverish…you show all the signs of sepsis."

At that, Carson glanced down at his injured extremity and chuckled. "I thought I was getting the flu myself, actually. You can't believe how happy I am that it's just from this bite."

"This neglected bite wound, which is now so infected that you're septic!" Shelly was not amused.

Glancing at his hand, Carson had to admit that it looked much worse for having been ignored, but it was still comforting to know that he wasn't getting the flu. At least he knew now why the hand had been throbbing. Of course, the lack of sleep hadn't helped his immune system at all, either. Still, his responsibilities…

As if reading his mind, Nurse Galas piped up, "Doctor Beckett, you are dead on your feet, and no help to anyone right now. Let me start an IV, run in some Unasyn, and you take a quick nap. I'll get you up once the antibiotics are in."

One thing was certain; he was too tired to argue. Rallying enough energy to fix her with a determined stare, he stated emphatically, "You be sure that you do, now."

She smiled reassuringly. "Of course I will. We can't let you lollygag around while the rest of us work, now can we?"

After carefully examining her face, he nodded and allowed himself to be led to a small fold-out cot in the storeroom where the staff had been catching catnaps. Despite the rough canvass, he was unconscious before she even had his sleeve rolled up.

Shaking her head in fond disbelief, Shelly deftly started the drip, then turned it down to as slow as possible to still keep the vein open. Gently patting his cheek, she commented, "Yes, sir, I'll wake you just as soon as the antibiotics are in, which ought to be about 6 hours from now…" Pleased at her obsfucation, she smiled and headed back to the main ward.

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"Dr. Beckett!" Dr. Biro rushed back into the Medlab many hours later, waving a sheaf of paper excitedly. A quick glance didn't reveal the location of her superior, so she took a deep breath to increase her volume.

Before she could call out, Nurse Galas grabbed her arm and hissed, "Could you keep it down? I've got him lying on a cot in the storeroom catching a nap for the first time since before this hit, and I'd like to keep him there a little longer." After the first dose had finished, it was time for the second, so she had hung it without waking him. 'After all, the antibiotics aren't 'in' yet…'

Biro's eyes widened as she nodded, then she shook the papers at the head nurse. "I just wanted to tell him; we've gotten almost everyone on base immunized now, and I've sent some people to the mainland to catch any stragglers there. This is Halling's repeat sample; the virus is essentially gone, and his bloodstream is loaded with antibodies. We're going to start producing monoclonal strains of these antibodies to administer to the sickest patients - I just wanted to keep him in the loop."

Shelly nodded tiredly. "I promise I'll tell him as soon as he wakes up."

Dr. Biro nodded and scampered on her way. 'How much coffee does she drink, anyway?', Shelly thought, before returning to Dr. Lawrence's bedside. Most of the Athosians had begun to improve, but Derek seemed to be getting worse. Much longer and he'd be needing a ventilator like Jinto had. She took his vital signs and recorded them on the bedside chart.

"Ah thought you were going to wake me?" hissed an angry Scottish burr in her ear. Startled, the nurse nearly dropped the clipboard before rounding on him.

"And so I was, once the antibiotics were in." Gesturing to the bag he held aloft, she continued, "As you can see, they're still running…"

"At 30 cc a bloody hour!" Carson interrupted her. "Nevermind that; what have I missed?" He clearly felt better; his right hand was even being used to hold the IV bag.

Nurse Galas took the bag and hung it from a nearby pole, then turned up the rate to finish it off as she updated her CMO on Dr. Biro's progress. As both concluded, she quickly pulled the IV and produced a bottle of Augmentin.

"I assume you know how to take these? I'm not a doctor, but it seems prudent to continue to treat the hand now that the worst is over."

Beckett nodded, somewhat mollified. "Still, lass, you should have gotten me up sooner…"

"Why? The other physicians have things well in hand, and I knew where to find you if you were needed. Don't you feel better after a little rest and proper care?"

Carson nodded. Much as he hated to admit it, he felt as if a fog had lifted. "Yes, lass. Just don't let this become a habit." Looking at Derek, he frowned. "How is Dr. Lawrence doing?" he asked as he moved toward the bedside.

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Three days later, Carson was in the cafeteria, gathering food and energy to face the day ahead. It wasn't even daybreak, but the mounds of paperwork looming on his desk had made it impossible for him to sleep late. In the last three days most of the Athosians had improved and were released, returning to the mainland as quickly as possible. They left nothing but their charts behind that needed to be completed, reviewed and signed off. Some of the oldest and youngest patients had to be kept a bit longer due to the severity of their illness, but they were all getting better; no excuse to put off the charting any longer. Dr. Lawrence had been touch and go for a while, but even he was now awake and, Carson was sure, being spoon-fed soup by his chief nurse. He chuckled quietly to himself as he wished the young man luck.

"What's so funny?" McKay sidled up to the physician in line as he helped himself to a large cup of coffee.

"Nothing much; just thinking of Nurse Galas taking care of Dr. Lawrence."

Rodney pulled a face. "Nurse Galas? That battleaxe? She wouldn't even treat me when I got back from the mainland!"

Carson picked up his tray and headed for a table. "You mean she wouldn't drop everything to tend to your sore muscles, don't you?"

"Where'd you hear that," asked McKay defiantly.

"One of the orderlies." Beckett took a sip of coffee and closed his eyes in delight.

Changing the subject, Rodney gestured to Carson's injured extremity. "So, how's the hand?"

Carson glanced at the hand holding the cup; it felt good to be able to use it again. Flexing the fingers experimentally, he replied, "It's going to be fine. A little stiff still, but definitely on its way to being well."

"I thought Elizabeth was going to have a stroke when she heard about it." McKay commiserated.

Beckett stared at his coffee mug. "Aye, she read me the riot act; not undeserved, either. I should have taken better care of myself…"

"Well, you'll know better next time." Rodney shrugged philosophically, then glanced at his watch. "Hey, you got a minute? The sun's about to come up." McKay jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the balcony.

Carson smiled. "Sure, Rodney. It looks to be a beautiful day." Gathering up their coffee, the two men headed out to greet it.

The End

AN: Again, thanks to everyone for their patience…