The review hog (that would be me) would like to massively thank all the reviewers for feeding my fire in such a nice way. You guys really do rule in my book. Makes my heart want to flutter and my fingers want to type. I'm trying hard to update quickly, but it's hard to squeeze in time right now. It's the middle of the night and I can't focus on the clock any more. But I'm afraid of Emrys1 and the dark side and the new laws and all the reviewers offering to join the enforcement branch, so here you go (LOL - of course you know that I secretly love it). By the way, don't expect this to lighten up soon. I think my dark side might show in this one. Much to come.

Chapter 3

Elizabeth returned to the infirmary about an hour later. She found that John had been moved to one of the beds and Carson was standing beside him, making notes on his chart. A nurse was at the side of the bed, trying in vain to attach the covers to the bed in such as way that the major's constant thrashing would not upend them. She finally stood up and shrugged in surrender, watching the man undo everything she had just accomplished. "Not happening," she muttered as she walked across the room.

As Elizabeth approached, she got her first real look at John since the whole thing began. The constant motion was what really caught her attention. He would shift positions every few seconds. Even when he held a position for several seconds, his arms, hands, or legs were constantly twitching or jerking nervously. His whole body seemed to shudder, shaking the bed with a constant rattling noise. Sweat covered his face, matted his hair, and soaked through the hospital gown. Ever so often, he would open his eyes for a few moments and they would dart around wildly, almost as if he were searching for someone to help him. Then they would squint shut again, trying to navigate the pain that wound through him like a hot fire poker. An IV line ran to his right hand, nasal cannula across his face, and a heart monitor stood beeping a little too quickly beside his bed.

Elizabeth hugged herself tightly across the chest as she stood by Carson Beckett. "How is he?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Beckett sighed sadly. "Not good. His blood pressure and heart rate are too high, but that's no suprise. The pain is relentless. I haven't seen him get a break since he got here an hour ago. From what I can tell, it's like having the worst muscle cramp you've ever had in several muscles at once. As soon as they let up in one place, they start somewhere else. That's why he's moving around so much. There's this natural instinct to move the muscle and work the cramp out. Kind of hard to do when it hits you in that many places at once. They are so intense, that some of the ones in his chest make it hard to breathe, so we've got him on oxygen. I'm a little worried about dehydration. He obviously can't keep anything down right now and he's sweating faster than we can keep up with. I've got one IV going, but I think we may have to add another if this keeps up. We'll need to change his sheets and gown soon, and I'm not sure how that's going to work. His temperature is starting to creep up - probably from all the activity." He turned to make eye contact with her. "Did you get the coffee to the lab?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, there was still a little coffee in the bottom of the pot. We took that, John's cup, and the coffee grounds all to the lab." Sheppard groaned as he rolled back over to his side and clutched his abdomen, drawing the attention of his two friends. Elizabeth chewed lightly on the inside of her lower lip, willing the tears not to come. This wasn't the time or the place. She wanted so much to crawl onto the bed and hold him and, somehow, make the pain go away. She noticed that the palms of both hands were bandaged. "Carson, what happened to his hands?"

Beckett looked down at his own hand, absently bringing it up and clenching it into a fist. "He had his hands clenched into a fist so tightly that he drove his fingernails down into the skin and cut up his hands. I don't think he even realizes yet. The pain just doesn't compare to what he's already feelin'."

Elizabeth closed her eyes a second, feeling like the room was beginning to spin. Finally, her head cleared and she opened her eyes. She glanced at Carson, only to find him watching her. "Can I stay with him for a while?"

Beckett looked at Sheppard, struggling against the pain and covers that were now hopelessly wrapped around him. "Aye, you can stay for a while. I'm not sure if he's aware of us or not, but if there's any chance, he should know he's not alone. I was planning on having someone stay close anyway, in case he has trouble breathing again. I'm a little worried about that. I'd hate to have to ventilate him in his present condition."

Elizabeth shivered. "Do you think...do you think it'll get that bad?"

"No way of knowin'. I'm goin' to see if I can hurry his bloodwork results any. I'll check back with ya." Beckett walked across the infirmary, his footsteps sounding particularly heavy.

Elizabeth stood at the foot of the bed, watching one of the strongest men she'd ever met shake violently as he twisted and turned and rolled with the relentless torment. She walked over to his side and gently wiped her hand across his forehead, pushing the wet hair back off his face. His eyes fluttered open a little, all shiney and glassy with pain.

"Lizzzzz...bth..." was all he could manage, but the fact that he knew she was there caused a sense of relief to wash over her. She desperately wanted him to know that she was there for him to lean on.

"It's okay, John. Carson's working on it. He thinks you've come into contact with some sort of poison or toxin. As soon as he knows what it is, he'll be able to help you. Just hang in there a little longer."

Sheppard's eyes began closing as he shifted with the pain and winced, tightly shutting his eyes again. "N...not...goin...an...where...Ohhhhhhh...hurts..." He suddenly grabbed the bedrails that were keeping him from rolling onto the floor and gripped them until his knuckles were white and she was sure he would snap them in half. He was shaking so hard that the bedrails made an awful clattering sound, as if something metal was scooting around the floor in an earthquake measuring about a 9 on the Richter scale.

Beckett came shooting out of his office like a shot of a cannon. He slid to a stop at the foot of Sheppard's bed. "What the...?" He watched Sheppard shake the life out of the bedrails for a few more seconds before rolling onto his back. stiffening his legs,and arching his back up off the bed. Beckett had seen this move before, and as always, Sheppard's breathing stopped for what seemed like far too long before he relaxed back onto the bed and rolled to his other side.

Elizabeth looked up at Beckett, fear in both her eyes and her voice. "Does he always do that...stop breathing like that?"

Beckett nodded. "Every time he goes up on his back like that. That's why I want someone watching him. In case he doesn't come back down soon enough."

Elizabeth noticed McKay standing a few feet behind Beckett. "Rodney, how long have you been there?"

Beckett turned to look at McKay, the scientist's face somewhat pale. "Long...enough." He walked up to stand by Beckett, never taking his eyes off Sheppard. "He's...he's not doing so good, is he?" They all stood watching the pale, sweaty figure struggling with the sheets again. John moaned softly and then suddenly sat straight up, his eyes opening to slits. Caught by suprise, it took the trio around the bed a few seconds to react.

Elizabeth stood up and Beckett moved to the other side of the bed. Each put a hand on the major's shoulder as he sat there in a daze, unaware of what just happened. "Wwwwww...wat...water..."

Elizabeth had a straw in a cup of water to his lips in an instant. He just sat there, so Elizabeth finally said, "Drink, John. It's water." He drew in some of the water and closed his eyes as if in relief. When he stopped and Elizabeth withdrew the cup, he began falling back to the bed. Carson, his hand still on the back of his shoulder, took his weight and eased him down to the bed. He seemed peaceful for a moment and they all silently hoped he would be able to get some sleep. Then his eyes popped open and he cried out in pain as he quickly drew his legs up to his chest and rolled back over to his side, once again pushing against the muscles in his legs. After a few minutes, his arms shifted from his legs to his abdomen. He gasped, his breath catching in his throat before he vomited the water he had just taken in, adding to the sweat that already drenched his hospital gown and sheets.

Beckett stood there feeling more helpless that he'd ever felt in his life, and it was a feeling he wasn't liking very much. "We need to get him cleaned up. Why don't you two go get a cup of coffee or somethin' and check back with me later."

An hour later, Weir and McKay returned to the infirmary to find Beckett sitting in his office. McKay was a little perturbed that the good doctor wasn't sitting at Sheppard's bedside, "Carson, what are you doing in here? Is the major okay? Why aren't you with him?"

Beckett just held up his hands in a defensive motion. "He's not alone, Rodney. I've got someone with him. I've been going over some test results. There's some kind of a strange compound in his blood...and there's a whole lot of it. I've never seen anythin' like this before. It's bound to be the source of the major's problems...but I don't know what to do about it."

He handed McKay the paper he was looking at. McKay whistled. "Man, this IS weird. Any ideas?"

Beckett took the paper back from McKay. "Not yet. There is a small section that is somewhat like acetylcholine, a neurotransmitter. But there's all this other stuff around it and I don't know what any of that does. I think I'm goin' to send this to the chemistry lab and see if they have any ideas."

"Did you find that in the coffee?" Weir asked.

"No. The coffee, the cup, and grounds were all clean. No traces of this stuff, whatever it is. Rodney, did you have any luck figuring out where the major went this morning?"

"Yes and no," said McKay. "I talked to several people doing guard duty early this morning. He left his quarters about four a.m. this morning. Who runs at that hour? Who's even awake at that hour? Remind me to speak to him about actually sleeping at night when this is all over. Idiot. Oh, anyway, I know where he went from his quarters to the end of the inhabited part of the city. Once he left that, it'll be just a guess. But at least we know what general part of the city he was in."

Weir took over from there. "Okay, Rodney, you'll coordinate with me and we'll get some teams out there looking. Maybe they can figure out where he went and search for anything that might be causing this."

The room was silent for a few moments. "Has there been any change?" asked Weir.

Beckett just shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. We managed to get him clean and dry. That lasted about fifteen minutes, but I guess it's better than nothin'. Bad thing is, I still can't give him anythin' for the pain. Whatever it is appears to cause severe muscle spasms and cramps. I'm a little worried about involvement of the diaphragm and the heart, since they are both muscle. So far, he's just had some temporarily interrupted breathing and a bit of a fast heartbeat. I'm worried about possibly expanding the effects of this compound and making the situation worse."

"Carson, you can't just leave him like that," said Rodney.

"Aye, I know. We'll think of somethin' Rodney. Let me see what the chemists say before we jump in so far we can't get back out."

Rodney suddenly jumped to his feet. "Come on Elizabeth. We've got steps to retrace and Carson has a chemist to see. The sooner we get an answer, the sooner Carson can help him."

Wier shook herself out of the stupor she felt she'd fallen into. Rodney was right. They needed to move quickly. The pair walked out of Beckett's office and neither of them could help but to turn and look toward Sheppard's bed. Even from this distance, they could see that he was still shaking and squirming under the covers. A nurse sat by the bed, occasionally leaning over and patting his arm and talking to him, trying to let him know that someone was there. They briefly looked at one another, determination in their face, as they set off to the control room.

Beckett stood in his office doorway, watching Sheppard from across the room. "Bloody hell," he murmured to himself as he gripped the reports on Sheppard's bloodwork and headed for Dr. Kavanagh's office.

TBC

Yeah, I know.I can't help myself. I'll try to hurry.