I'm exhausted. Every time I reread a chapter, I keep finding typos and then I'm mortified by my editing slackness. Serves me right for posting when I'm tired. Still, it's depressing. In a fit of pique I've reedited every single chapter and I've replaced them all. That's why this final chapter was delayed. It was being pulled apart. I won't have removed every single typo but I should have at least reduced them. Maybe.
And on that note, let's tap dance this story on home.
Chapter 10
Ronon and Teyla had joined Caldwell on the bridge after Ronon had briefed him on the current medical problem. Sheppard and McKay were back, albeit worse for wear. Caldwell had dispatched a hazmat team, confident they could lend assistance where needed and if the situation got any worse, he'd be the first one to know. He fully expected his people to do a first rate job, apply quarantine procedures when warranted, and to know when to call for reinforcements.
Teyla had wanted to go back to sickbay after hearing Ronon's account of Sheppard's infection. Ronon had shuddered and told her that the place was best avoided until Carson could find a cure. Caldwell agreed with Ronon. There was no point getting in Jacobson's and Beckett's way.
Teyla acquiesced but he could see that she was worried and Caldwell found himself admiring the way she cared so much for the member's of her team. It made her an asset in a tough situation. She had enough empathy to ensure she would always stick with them, and enough pragmatism to know when it was time to withdraw.
He asked her to remain on the bridge while he contacted Atlantis, distracting Teyla by requesting her help in debriefing Dr. Weir. Ronon on the other hand didn't need any distracting. He was only too happy to be away from the sight of his team leader throwing up bugs.
Caldwell placed an open channel to Atlantis to share the good news with Weir. Well, good news for her, not so good for him. With the successful recovery of Sheppard, it seemed his dream of commanding Atlantis would continue to remain just that. A dream.
It took a few moments to establish the connection and then he heard her voice, slightly distorted with static.
"Colonel."
"Dr. Weir, I'm reporting on the results of our mission."
There seemed to be a long pause, but maybe that was just due to the distance the signal had to travel.
"Go ahead."
"We have successfully recovered both men."
The bridge reverberated with the distorted sound of people cheering. It seemed his call to Weir wasn't exactly a private one. Maybe she'd wanted the population of Atlantis to hear the news simultaneously so that she wasn't faced with announcing their deaths herself, if the results had been different.
"That's great news," said Elizabeth, her voice nearly lost amongst the yelling.
"We're en route back to Atlantis."
"I'll put out the welcome mat."
He thought he heard the pop of a cork in the background. "Dr. Weir, could you put me onto a secure line?"
Her voice changed from one of happiness to wariness. "Of course."
There was a brief pause and the sounds of dozens of other voices disappeared.
"Go ahead, Colonel."
"The situation has been complicated medically."
"Why am I not surprised," said Weir.
"Colonel Sheppard is infected with some sort of parasite. Dr. Beckett and Dr. Jacobson are working on him. He's not critical, but the condition may take some time to resolve."
"And Rodney?"
"He appears to be fine."
"Let me know if John's condition gets any worse."
"Of course."
He was just about to ask Teyla to fill Weir in on the specifics of the rescue mission when the alarm sounded.
"Dr. Weir, I'm going to have to cut this short. Caldwell out."
He abruptly terminated the transmission without any explanation but he presumed she'd heard the klaxon as loudly as he did.
One of his science officers was listening intently to her headset. "Colonel, it's sickbay. They're reporting…" She paused, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "They're reporting that Dr. McKay assaulted Dr. Jacobson and that he's fled sickbay."
He couldn't believe it either. He was about to reply, when her eyes widened as she received another report.
"Sir, an engineering team just found an unconscious marine. His uniform and weapons are missing."
The logical conclusion was that Rodney McKay, having assaulted a doctor, was also responsible for assaulting the marine. And that same mad scientist was presumably armed. He'd been through some weird situations since he'd been assigned to SGC but for some reason having to consider Rodney McKay armed and dangerous seemed stranger than all of the other situations put together.
He hit the comms button on his chair, "I need a security detail to begin an immediate search for Dr. Rodney McKay. He is in possession of weapons and should be considered a threat. Stun upon sight. Caldwell out."
Ronon and Teyla were instantly alert.
"Do you want us to assist in locating Dr. McKay?" Teyla asked.
"Actually, I've got another job for you. I want both of you to go down and make sure that Drs. Beckett and Jacobson are okay. Evacuate any non essential medical personnel while you're there."
"You're worried about Sheppard?" Ronon clearly didn't see him as much of a threat. "They've got him tied down so tight he needs help sneezing."
"I'm sure they still have him restrained but it's better to be safe than sorry."
The Satedan and Athosian didn't look pleased at being assigned to glorified babysitting duties but truth be told, Caldwell was actually worried about what would happen if the situation with McKay turned sour. If the scientist was beyond reason it was entirely possible he'd use the weapons with little provocation. He really didn't need to be in a situation of explaining to Weir why most of her team was infected, violent, or full of bullet holes.
((--))
Carson gently prodded Jacobson's nose while Ronon and Teyla observed. He was grateful that they were assigned to his protection because Rodney's actions had spooked him. Besides, he didn't like the way that the sickbay was quiet now that the hustle and bustle produced by the rest of the medical staff had gone.
"How much damage did he do?" Jacobson let out a grunt as Carson prodded some more. Even the oxycodone wasn't doing much to dent the pain. Carson stopped prodding and gave Jacobson a bag of ice to place on the area.
"It's not good. Septal fracture of both bones and I think the fragments may be interlocked. The edema's bad so there's no point in trying for a reduction. I'm going to recommend we wait three months for your fracture to heal and then we'll do reconstructive surgery."
"I got punched in the nose once. It wasn't that bad," said Ronon trying to offer sympathy in his own twisted way.
"Ronon, you may have been punched but I do not recall your nose being broken," countered Teyla. "It was a bar fight and your opponent was too drunk to cause much damage."
Carson smiled. Jacobson did not.
"God damn it. I liked my nose. It was a great nose and now I'm going to look like a boxer. The next time I see him, I'm going to kill the little shit."
"Now, now. Rodney's normally as gentle as a lamb. A hypochondriac lamb that complains a lot, but still -"
Jacobson abruptly interrupted. "I'll just have to take your word for it because at the moment he doesn't look very peaceful."
"What?"
Jacobson pointed to an area behind Carson and Carson had no choice but to turn and find himself looking at a psychotic McKay. Dressed like a GI Joe action figure and not nearly as harmless.
Ronon bristled and Teyla instantly went into a defensive stance. Rodney had stealthily snuck into sickbay, P90 haphazardly held with one hand, pointing in a vaguely straight line. Carson had no idea how he'd managed to avoid the security details, but he clearly had. Then again, yesterday Carson didn't think Rodney was capable of punching people. The events of the day were definitely changing his mind.
Before there was time to react, the opportunity had gone. Besides, if Rodney was trigger happy, it wasn't the time to start trying to hit him, or stun him.
"Uh… Rodney. Glad to see you're okay."
Rodney gesture with his P90 towards the direction of the OR.
"We're going to pay Sheppard a visit."
"And why would that be son?"
"Because I need to prove a point."
"Right. And the point is?"
Rodney made a shushing sound. "Less talking Carson and more putting your hands up. You too, Dr. Jacobson. Teyla. Ronon."
They did as they were told. McKay, still clutching the P90, used one hand to pick up Ronon's stunner and throw it to the other side of sickbay.
Ronon seemed to have swung around to Jacobson's point of view on what he'd like to do to Rodney, presumably because there was something shameful about being threatened by a man that Ronon had never previously considered a threat to anything or anyone.
They walked towards the OR, Rodney behind them. Jacobson's nose started bleeding again, dripping down his face. Rodney didn't seem to care.
"Dr McKay, perhaps you should consider what you're doing," said Teyla. Carson had to admire her, even in the face of a crazy team mate she still tried to keep reason in her voice.
"I did Teyla. I considered that I'm sick of Atlantis and everyone complaining about me and then making me save them. Then I considered I really want to go home. To the planet."
There wasn't much they could say to that. They stepped into the OR, Rodney gestured with the P90 in the direction of Sheppard's bed. Ronon and Teyla looked like they were prepared to leap any minute but Carson made a gesture, hoping they'd back off. Considering Rodney's condition, someone was going to get hurt.
Sheppard stopped pulling on the restraints long enough to give Rodney a twisted grin.
"Look who's playing soldier," said Sheppard.
"Yeah. Just look." Rodney seemed to be unmoved by the sarcasm in Sheppard's voice. Carson wished he was somewhere else because the sight of a non whining Rodney was seriously freaking him out.
He watched as Rodney came up close to the bed, leaned down so that he was right in Sheppard's face.
"Not so funny now. Is it?"
Sheppard just kept grinning. "You don't say. Personally I think it's just as funny because I never thought I'd see the Pillsbury Dough Boy in uniform."
Rodney didn't seemed impressed with the response. He brought his P90 up to aim at Sheppard's right temple. Ronon took two steps forward, Teyla put up her hand to stop him. This was not the time to scare Rodney into pulling the trigger, especially when he was clutching a P90. The end result would be spectacularly messy.
"You're all the same. You and Todd and every single one of them. Couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand it that I was smart. So you just did what you always did. Beat me up. Humiliated me. Guess it's my turn."
"Hey, news flash Geek Boy – I'm an Air Force pilot, I get the girls and I qualified for Mensa. I guess that makes me better than you, so I'd say you're just jealous."
Beckett's mouth was gaping and it wouldn't close. He couldn't believe the scene unfolding before him and as much as he was frightened out of his wits, the doctor in him wanted to try and contain the situation.
"Gentlemen, I don't believe you really know what you're saying to each other. You two are good friends."
Rodney and Sheppard both guffawed simultaneously. Sheppard remained unperturbed by the barrel held up snug against his head. Thankfully however, McKay seemed to be changing his mind about killing Sheppard.
"You know, maybe killing you is a stupid idea." Despite Rodney's statement, he didn't bother shifting the position of the gun.
"What makes you say that? Your genius brain getting an idea that's actually useful?"
Carson wished to God they would stop trading insults designed to piss each other off.
"Just that I see what you mean now. About the planet. I want to go back but maybe I could use some company. Do you still want to go back?"
"Hell, yes."
"So we should. Take a few people with us. Maybe the whole ship. Then they'd understand."
Sheppard brightened at the news.
"Yeah! We've got hostages standing right here. Yeah, we could get on the bridge and make them land. You could disable the engines so we couldn't leave. Wouldn't take them long to see things our way."
Rodney was nodding enthusiastically just like he always did when he was getting ready to solve a problem.
"We'd have to take care of Hermiod. He's always been suspicious of me."
"Well, if he's in the way, just shoot him. No one's going to miss some scrawny Asgard."
Rodney smiled at the suggestion. "Hey, that's right. I've got a gun now!"
Carson felt compelled to have another attempt at trying to talk some sense into them, even if they were clearly beyond sense. Or reason.
"Rodney, Colonel. Perhaps we could stop for a moment and just think about what we're doing."
They both seemed to find his pleas amusing.
"Right. Sit down. Maybe we could have a cup of tea. I'll take two sugars," giggled Rodney.
Carson tried to ignore the fact that Rodney was turning out to be an even more sarcastic bugger than he normally was. He was about to summon up a retort, his patience worn thin, when McKay aimed for one of the wrist restraints. They were conveniently made of a double wrap Velcro. Near impossible to remove by the patient, but easy enough for a doctor or nurse to undo in an emergency. Or easy enough for one man infected with mind altering parasites to undo with his left hand while aiming an automatic weapon with his right. At that point Beckett mentally noted to himself that his next medical supply order would involve heavy duty models with D-ring buckles. It would serve them right. He moved back as Rodney waved them aside and undid the other restraint. Sheppard sat up, undid the chest and the ankle restraints and slid off the bed.
Carson wished to God that the man would stop smiling. It was disturbing.
It was at that point, with Rodney distracted and Sheppard still getting off the gurney that both Ronon and Teyla took their chance. They charged.
It was the wrong move. Rodney whirled, panicked, and did what Carson feared the most. He pulled the trigger.
The shots were wild, hitting the floor. The ricochets were not. As the bullets sliced around her, Teyla instinctively went into a crouch, trying to protect her torso. It was unsuccessful as fragments, still moving at high speed, broke and bounced back up, hitting her in the abdomen. As she went down, she seemed genuinely stunned that her luck appeared to have run out. Rodney watched as she fell to the floor. Emotion's twitched across his face, changing like the weather. Horror. Satisfaction. Then he burst out laughing.
Ronon, meanwhile, had gone for Sheppard. He should have learnt his lesson from his previous encounter. Sheppard had always been strong but now he had the added bonus of being pumped up on adrenaline and presumably, alien hormones.
Sheppard grabbed one of Ronon's arms before Ronon had time to react and found himself flung off balance into the gurney. As Ronon staggered down, his legs going out from under him, he tried to brace by locking his legs. At that point Sheppard simply used all of his force and stamped on the front of Ronon's knee.
From Ronon's shocked grunt and the crack, Carson was sure that Sheppard had just broken Ronon's knee cap.
The Satedan did not get up.
Carson's first instinct was to rush to Teyla, the more gravely injured and start treating her. He moved forwards, forgetting that he was being held hostage, completely focused on the woman on the floor, blood forming a puddle underneath her.
A hand went to his arm, holding him back. It was Jacobson.
"Now's not the time to get yourself killed." Jacobson was whispering.
Carson tried shaking off the hand but Jacobson gripped him tightly. He was right of course. There was no predicting what Sheppard or McKay would do if he made any unexpected moves, and he couldn't very well treat any of them if he'd been injured himself. Logic told him that he would just have to bide his time. The doctor part of him railed against the concept of having to watch a friend bleed out on a cold floor, millions of miles from home.
Sheppard took no further notice of Ronon, who could only lie where he fell, face contorted in agony. Instead, Sheppard rubbed at his wrists, appraised Rodney, and slapped him on the back.
"That alarm's annoying."
"Uh huh. Means they'll be looking for us."
"Good thing we both know the ship inside out."
"Good thing we've got hostages." McKay said the sentence with a skin crawling amount of gusto.
"Did you bring another weapon?"
"I've got the Glock." Rodney pointed at his holster. "You can have that."
"I was hoping for the P90."
"It's mine!" Rodney pulled the gun closer to him, clutching it like a childhood teddy bear.
Sheppard's smile faded, and he frowned. "Aw, come on McKay. You know I'm better at handling the P90."
McKay pursed his lips, seemed to consider the request. Carson wondered if Rodney's decision to pass the weapon to someone who could use it correctly indicated the last vestiges of sanity or just that Rodney thought Sheppard would be more efficient at killing the next person who surprised them. "Okay. I guess we can swap."
Sheppard passed over the Glock; McKay reluctantly gave Sheppard the P90. Dressed in scrubs there was nothing to clip the weapon to, so Sheppard held it with one hand, pointing it towards the floor.
"I'm going to check the sickbay doors are locked. Keep an eye on the two cream puffs here."
"What about Teyla and Ronon?"
"I don't think they'll be causing us any more problems."
McKay nodded, pointed his gun, standing in some crazed stance only seen in amateur videos made by teenagers with disturbing gun fetishes. "Everyone just stay where they are!"
Carson risked a glance at Jacobson, whose chin was now caked in dried blood. Teyla was on the floor, barely conscious. Ronon had rolled onto his side, his face pale, eyes screwed up in agony. They had to get Sheppard and Rodney under control and quickly, but he had no idea how they were going to pull off that particular job. He spared another glance at Jacobson, and Jacobson caught his gaze, directed his eye line down to a tray. Carson had drawn off another dose of lorezepam just before the alarm was activated. The capped syringe was ready to go and easy enough to reach for.
Right. That was a plan. A dumb plan but a plan anyway and he needed to act because he didn't like the way Rodney was sweating profusely. Or the way he was seesawing his aim between the two doctors as if they were top notch SAS personnel.
Beckett made a decision. He pointed towards the wall, away from McKay.
"What the hell is that!" He faked being scared and it wasn't hard to do. It was probably the best performance he'd given in his life.
Rodney spun around, twitchy and nervous. "What! What did you see!"
"That! The thing on the wall!"
Rodney swiveled around again, looking for the whatever-it-was. Carson spied Jacobson carefully palming the syringe.
"Over there man! My God, can't you see it!"
"Shut up, Carson and let me concentrate."
Rodney swung around again, completely distracted from his task of guarding his hostages. Sheppard was right. He had a long way to go before he made it to soldier status.
As Rodney shifted his focus, Jacobson pocketed the hypodermic.
"My mistake, Rodney. I thought I saw one of the insects."
McKay frowned. "Is that all?"
"Is that all? Forgive me for being a little paranoid about being infected by one of them."
"You'll get used to it."
"That's hardly a recommendation," replied Beckett.
McKay shrugged, and Sheppard arrived back in the room, gripping the P90 for all it was worth. The Colonel beckoned towards the captives.
"Let's get this show on the road. McKay you get behind them. Beckett, give me your radio. I've got a call to make."
He didn't need to be told twice. He handed it over as speedily as possible, trying not to touch Sheppard's hand. He thought he knew how the parasite was spread but he wasn't taking any chances.
"Hey, Colonel Caldwell. It's Sheppard. You there?"
The response was immediate with Caldwell's tone its usual cool self, reflecting neither surprise, puzzlement or concern.
"Caldwell here. Something I can do for you?"
"Yeah, we're having a little hostage party down here. My buddy Rodney and I thought we might make some demands."
"Excuse me?"
Carson had just learnt what could fluster Caldwell. Considering it wasn't every day they had two of Atlantis' star performers' tap dancing on the stage of the psychotic, he was pretty sure he would never see Caldwell out of his league again.
"Rodney and I took Dr. Beckett and Dr. Jacobson hostage. Rodney shot Teyla and Ronon's not happy about his knee being broken. "
"Did you just say…," Caldwell's voice tapered off. "Can you repeat?"
"If you don't land the Daedalus on the planet, I think Rodney is going to kill everyone in sickbay. Aren't you Rodney?"
McKay nodded earnestly.
"Any preferences?"
It took McKay about two seconds to show that he did indeed have preferences for his first target.
"It's going to be Dr. Jacobson. He's expendable because he's a military doctor and they'll replace him on the next run to Earth. Besides, I don't like him."
Jacobson narrowed his eyes, muttered under his breath. "Seriously. I'm going to kill him."
Beckett tried performing the breathing exercises he'd coached a few pregnant woman through because really, he wasn't breathing that well. Not calmly anyway. More like a panicked gasping. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
"Quit it or you'll hyperventilate." Rodney looked peeved. "And I'm not going to be able to find a paper bag for you."
"Colonel, you know I am not allowed to negotiate with terrorists," said Caldwell.
"You're hurting me feelings. We're not terrorists."
"You've taken hostages and you're making demands that I can't possibly meet. I think that counts as terrorism."
Sheppard rolled his eyeballs. "Oh fine. Everyone's a critic. So does that mean you're not going to land the ship?"
"Not at this moment. No. It does mean that I am going to come down to sickbay and talk to you personally."
"That's hardly a trade. Rodney, do you want to talk to Caldwell? I don't."
"No, he's boring. Maybe they could send Hermiod instead. I need to point out an error to him. With my fist."
"Good one, McKay. I like you more and more every minute."
"What, you didn't like me before?"
"Yeah, but you weren't that much fun. Except when you had on that personal force field."
"That was cool when you pushed me off the balcony."
"I liked shooting you better."
For some reason both men found the idea hilarious. They cracked up laughing and pointed at each other and Sheppard placed the radio down on the gurney, apparently uninterested in talking to Caldwell any further. It offered some hope to Carson. He wondered if the alteration in their brain chemistry had now produced an unforeseen endorphin hit. They seemed to be moving into euphoria and that meant they were less inclined to start splattering their hostages' brains all over the wall.
He thought fast and offered up a comedy gem of his own. "What about the time Rodney took all of the Wraith enzyme?"
Rodney looked astonished that Carson was opening his mouth and then continued laughing.
"I was crazy!"
"And I missed it?" Sheppard was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides.
Carson kept up his patter, noticing that both of them were completely distracted. The gun pointing wasn't as focused, nor were they paying much attention to anything around them. Rodney had nearly doubled over he was laughing so hard. Carson gestured to Jacobson who began edging gently in the direction of Sheppard. If they had to drug someone, it made sense to drug the man who was the more dangerous physically. Carson just hoped he could take Rodney.
"Yes, Colonel, you should have seen him. Complete loon. Dangerously high blood pressure. Raving, paranoid. He could have died," continued Carson.
"Awwwwwww," said Sheppard, pulling a face at Rodney. Rodney returned the compliment and giggled.
"I think something's wrong," said Rodney as he giggled some more and then hiccupped. "I don't think we're supposed to be standing here laughing."
Sheppard was trying to get a breath. "I know. Weren't we going to.. uh… Take over the ship? Or something?"
"Right. Yes. Take over the ship. We should still try that."
At about that moment, Jacobson was behind Sheppard and plunged the now uncapped hypodermic into Sheppard's butt and depressed the plunger as fast as he could.
"Owwwww! What the fuck?" Sheppard whirled, his good mood gone, his gun now aimed at Jacobson's head.
McKay, in the meantime, started to panic. Carson figured he didn't know what to do with a coup in his midst. Beckett took his main chance, decided it was either now or never. It was the daftest thing he'd ever do in his life, but he simply wrenched the gun from Rodney's grasp. Rodney regarded him with wide eyes and a shocked expression. Carson swiftly moved behind Rodney, wrapped him in a bear hug, and locked his hands in front of Rodney's chest.
Sheppard, meanwhile, appeared to be unable to stand upright. Beckett had thought he'd take a while to drop as adrenaline tended to counteract the effects but no, he was going down nicely. As if on cue, Sheppard made one last attempt to get to his feet, and then promptly wound up sitting his punctured butt on the floor. Then he pitched over and was out cold.
That just left Rodney. Jacobson was now in front of the scientist, curling up his right fist.
"Theodore, for God's sake, don't hit him! He doesn't know what he's doing!"
Jacobson considered Carson's request momentarily before he pulled back his arm and then got off a solid punch into McKay's face, hitting him in the eye.
"Theodore! Leave him alone!"
Carson debated about letting Rodney go, and trying to subdue Jacobson. He was supposed to prevent Rodney from killing them and possibly killing himself, not holding him so Jacobson could give him a beating.
Rodney was starting to struggle again and Carson found it hard to hold on, especially now that the scientist was enraged from being hit.
"I'm going to kill you!" The threat was directed at Jacobson. "You could have blinded me, you son of a bitch!"
"You'll be fine. I pulled my aim. You'll just bruise."
McKay lunged, Carson held on, Jacobson went back to the tray and loaded another hypodermic. McKay made for Jacobson, dragging Carson behind him.
"Could you hurry it up just a wee bit? I've got my hands full."
"Don't sweat it Carson. He's going nighty-night in about thirty seconds."
Two things happened right at the same time. Carson's radio crackled into life. Susan's voice could be heard and he couldn't quite make out the words but it sounded like she was saying something about a cure. Then someone lobbed a Flashbang grenade into the OR.
The grenade went off and Carson found an image of the OR temporarily seared onto the back of his retinas by two million candelas and his equilibrium overwhelmed by the percussive force of 175 decibels. He promptly fell over.
On the positive side, at least someone had managed to unlock the sickbay doors. Presumably that's what Caldwell had meant when he said he'd be paying a personal visit.
((--))
Rodney woke up only able to see out of one eye and that one eye was vaguely irritated and sore. He started to panic about losing his eyesight and then tried to pull up a hand to rub his eye and found out that not only did he appear to have an IV in his hand but he was also strapped down. He turned his head, found an IV pole containing two bags. One of whole blood, another of saline. Both ran down the plastic tubing to his arm.
His brain spontaneously recalled a fuzzy memory of himself, running around in someone's stolen BDU, threatening anyone and everyone with certain death. Then he recalled shooting Teyla and thinking he'd struck comedy gold.
Shit. That was horrifying. Unforgivable. Inexcusable. He wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.
How the hell had it come to this? Oh. Right. The parasite. He turned his head, saw Sheppard had been tied into a sitting position on a bed. Conscious. Looking uncomfortable and contrite as a nurse slipped two pills onto his tongue and let him sip water through a bendy straw in a plastic mug.
The nurse saw that he was conscious.
"I'll go and get Dr. Beckett. He wanted to know when you were awake."
"You okay?" Sheppard asked. He was whispering as if his throat and his head hurt. Actually, come to think of it, Rodney's head and throat hurt as well.
"Yeah, I think so. What happened?"
"You don't remember?"
"Kind of. It's not very clear in places."
"I've got the same problem. There are gaps. Unfortunately there aren't any gaps where it counts."
Rodney knew exactly what he meant. He remembered what he'd done to Teyla and he had a vague recollection of Sheppard unhesitatingly snapping Ronon's leg. Then there was the matter of the ill-fated marine that he'd pounded on when he escaped. He was full of remorse and couldn't fathom how he could begin to make up for so many heinous acts.
"Are Teyla and Ronon okay?"
"Carson said Teyla made it out of surgery but she'll be in intensive care for a couple of days. Ronon's going to be in a cast for months." Sheppard's voice tapered off. "We really screwed up."
Rodney didn't reply because he was in total agreement.
Sheppard continued to stare at him woefully. "I, uh… Made your life miserable down on the planet. I can't make up for it. About the only thing I can do is apologize. I'm sorry, Rodney."
"You forgot that I tasered you and held a gun to your head. I'm sorry too."
"I should bloody think so," said Carson. He seemed to be alternating between annoyed and relieved. "Mental buggers, both of you."
They ignored Carson's insult because they both wanted to know the same thing.
Rodney broached the subject. "Is Teyla really okay?"
"Aye, Rodney. It's going to take her a couple of days before she's completely out of the woods but she should be just fine."
Rodney closed his eyes in relief now that he'd heard it personally from Carson. It made him feel marginally better. But not by much.
"If you're worried Rodney, I've asked her. She understands that you weren't in your right mind. She said that she forgives you."
Rodney nodded. He'd see her later. Try to apologize, not that he was any good at it. He was uncomfortable so he changed the subject. "I'm not infected any more am I?"
"Actually you are, but you're well on the way to mending. Turns out we carried the correct drug to treat the problem. Susan found it on the first try for which both of you should both be eternally thankful."
"What's the cure?" Rodney was curious.
"Rather astoundingly it's a combination of atovaquone and proguanil. "
"Why's that astounding?"
"It's an antiprotozoal, used to treat malaria. I always used to think whoever packed it for a mission to another galaxy was an idiot."
Rodney almost laughed as he cast his mind back to his days on the planet and his eternal gratefulness for the bucket.
"I know what you mean."
"I still had to get those damn egg sacs out. Not an enjoyable job I can tell you."
Rodney dimly recalled throwing up. "I had the same parasite Sheppard had?"
"You did. Not as high a load but you definitely did. Did you have any open wounds at the time Sheppard was infected?"
Rodney cast his mind back to the cut on his finger, and nodded. "Then how come I didn't show the symptoms that Sheppard did? He got sick down on the planet."
"As far as I can figure out, you were asymptomatic."
"You're kidding me."'
"Asymptomatic?" It was Sheppard, trying to keep up with the conversation.
"Yes, rather amazingly, Rodney McKay - prone to allergies, delicate equilibrium, and sensitive to pain - didn't bother to display any symptoms of infection until right near the end."
"Huh," said Rodney because he was amazed to hear the news. He got symptoms for everything real and imaginary. It wasn't every day that he learned he'd been running around infected with parasites and didn't even know.
"By the way, I've surmised that your brain chemistry was altered. You were both massively uninhibited. By what I'm not sure, but you probably got a big dose of dopamine, and some other neurotransmitters to make you behave in a certain fashion. It also seems the parasites were manufacturing alcohol right into your blood stream. I took a blood test after we had you both restrained. I also did an MRI to check for cysts or damage and it's clean."
Sheppard sighed in relief. It summed up Rodney's feelings as well.
"Why the alcohol?" asked Rodney.
"Not entirely sure. We think it was an added boost to lowering your ability to judge a situation. Probably designed as a last ditch survival effort in the animals it normally infects. An animal's behavior wouldn't be as extreme. It would probably just collapse in the river, or go to sleep – whatever predated it would be infected as well."
Rodney found himself wondering about the cats. They were probably a bigger threat than he'd estimated.
Carson continued, "The best we can surmise is that the leech is the reproductive stage of the parasite. We thought it was the larvae but we're not even sure it has a larval stage. From what we can determine it transmits its genome by simultaneously injecting the worm into the blood stream, and sucking blood into itself – presumably to exchange DNA if its feeding on an infected animal."
"That's gross," said Sheppard.
"But interesting," replied Beckett.
"I'm with Sheppard on this one," said Rodney.
"So, uh, when can you let us go?" Sheppard looked unhappy and contrite but had at least summoned up the courage to ask. Rodney had decided not to because he wasn't entirely sure he deserved to be let out of sickbay. Sure, their actions had a reason; it was understandable that they did what they did. Maybe. It was hard but damned if he didn't think he deserved to be punished. His Jiminy Cricket conscience was telling him that the words coming out of his mouth at the time and his obsession with teenage enemies couldn't all be ascribed to alien influence. That disturbed him.
Carson crossed his arms. "Here's what's going to happen. You're both going to stay there, trussed up like two haggis' waiting to be gently simmered, and every four hours a nice nurse is going to come by and stuff some medication down your throat. When your blood work shows clean, which should be in two days, you can go back to the guest quarters, under guard."
"Would it help if we said we were sorry? Because believe me Carson, we really are." Rodney felt an apology was in order even if they had been infected with parasites. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.
"It probably would, but not right now. I know I should be feeling a bit more sorry for both of you lads but I'm still a wee bit upset over yesterday's incident."
Rodney's reply was interrupted by Jacobson entering the room. He gave Rodney a particularly baleful glare and then made a show of setting down a large tray armed with empty blood collection tubes. There were twenty in all. Rodney gulped. Even Sheppard seemed to pale.
"Time to get some fresh blood samples."
"Isn't there something in the Geneva convention that talks about not using prisoners for medical experiments?" Rodney could feel a whine in his voice. It was as natural and as familiar as breathing and that's what he needed. Something familiar as a form of distraction.
"Yes, but this isn't a medical experiment. We need the blood work to determine how fast the level of infection is dropping. Who wants to go first?"
Rodney, unable to stand the thought of getting stuck with yet another needle cracked and said, "Sheppard has a high tolerance for pain. He won't even blink. Do him first."
Jacobson took that as an indication that Rodney was volunteering and went looking for a vein. Carson, in the interim, turned and sauntered back out of sickbay. Sounded like they were both getting back to their normal selves, for which he thanked God. The fracas in sickbay had probably resulted in quite a few broken fences that needed mending and he imagined that the entire team needed sessions with Heightmeyer. But they were resilient and they would bounce back. As if to prove it, he heard the start of a familiar conversation that signaled Rodney and Sheppard were doing what they always did when faced with a tough situation. Verbally sparring with each other.
"We're screwed, we are so totally screwed," said Rodney.
"We're sort of screwed. Not totally screwed. There's a difference."
THE END