AN: This chapter is an experiment in 'Point of View' - trying to see events from different perspectives (trying on for size, if you will). I probably won't do it again this story, but let me know what you think…
I'm re-loading this because ffnet is not letting a lot of people access this chapter; I have no clue as to what the problem is. If you've read it once, it hasn't changed.
SPOILERS: None
SUMMARY: Radek gets a stomach flu, but is anything ever that simple on Atlantis?
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fanfiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.
Not an Exact Science
By Kerr Avon
3. On the Other Hand…
Radek"That's disgusting!," exclaimed Kavanagh, leaping backwards away from the heaving scientist. Staring at his bespattered footwear, he ranted, "Do you have any idea what these cost? They're ruined! You'll pay…"
Zelenka zoned him out as inconsequential at that point; he was too miserable to do anything else. The violent projectile vomitus was followed by several minutes of dry heaving, during which time the engineer's knees turned to jello. Sagging to all fours, he remained on his knees long after the retching abated in the hopes that he could settle his stomach enough to put some distance between himself and his regurgitated breakfast. The very smell was making him gag.
During this time Kavanagh had stayed pointedly on the opposite side of the room, still complaining loudly rather than help his ailing colleague. "…And if I come down with so much as a sniffle I'll have you up on charges for…for endangering government property!"
Deciding that his head was throbbing too much to deal with the current number-one-ranked individual on his 'To Place In Front of an Initializing Stargate for the Good of Humanity' List (Ka-Whoosh!), Zelenka opted to contact 'The Ego That Lived'. As he activated his mike, he reflected that he tended to be quite…uncharitable…when he felt poorly.
"Doctor McKay, can you hear me?" he asked in a voice that sounded pathetic even to his own ears.
"Yes, Radek. Busy. What do you need?" McKay snapped.
"When will you arrive at the Chemlab?"
"Why would I want to go there?" The derision dripped from his words.
Zelenka closed his eyes tightly as fury momentarily overwhelmed misery; none of those slime-eating sons of seasnakes had talked to McKay. "Because…" Radek explained through gritted teeth, "I told one of the fleeing chemists to notify you." He took advantage of his stomach's temporary stability long enough to scoot back to where he could lean against a nice, cool wall.
Another voice cut in. "Sheppard here. Is there a problem I should know about?"
Kavanagh stopped his bellyaching long enough to key his own mike and accuse, "Well, when engineering refused our request…"
"…Dr. Kavanagh decided to try and obliterate the Chemlab on his own." Zelenka shot him a glare that promised mayhem when he felt better.
"Now wait just one…" objected Kavanagh.
"Is there anyone hurt?" That was Beckett. 'Don't these people have anything better to do?' thought Radek resignedly.
Taking a deep breath to keep from gagging again, he replied, "No, I managed to clear the room; only Kavanagh and I are left. However…" At that moment he lost his battle with his nausea and resumed his previous retching. This time all he managed to produce was a little foul-tasting bile. What he wouldn't give for some water to wash out his mouth! He didn't have the strength to stand any more, and reaching a sink was out of the question. Kavanagh was in no mood to render assistance, so he was stuck.
"You've got the same bug as most of your department. Hang tight, I'll be right there." Apparently he'd left his mike on during that escapade and Beckett had heard every nuance of sound. Zelenka's face colored in embarrassment; Weir had probably heard as well.
Swallowing dryly, he managed to choke out, "The last explosion damaged the door crystal; we cannot open it from this side."
A put-upon sigh from McKay. "On my way," he barked.
Fingering off the communicator, Radek closed his eyes and sagged against the soothingly cool bulkhead. Help would be here soon. Mentally he began cataloguing the projects that his team was about to become hopelessly behind on, then gave it up as too strenuous an exercise. Cracking open one eye, he noticed Kavanagh standing in a mirror position on the far side of the room, eyeing him as if he were a viper, but finally, blessedly silent. He allowed his eye to slide closed again and fervently hoped, for the sake of his own somersaulting stomach, that Kavanagh would stay that way.
KavanaghGlaring at the miserable engineer across the room as he spoke to his 'buddies' made Kavanagh feel a little better about his shoes, which were of course ruined. Why the heck couldn't the man just turn his head? Just no common decency, that's what.
And how could this be his fault? Sorry, but if Zelenka had just assigned the requested personnel to begin with, neither of them would be in this predicament. Clearly the blame rested with the Czech.
The pony-tailed man eyed the molten device warily, noting that the last explosion had taken out an adjacent laptop as well. No doubt that would come out of his department's budget. He ground his teeth in frustration.
Turning back to the other occupant of the room, he watched silently as Zelenka signed off and leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He smirked in satisfaction, 'It's about time one of the 'Golden Boys' got what's coming to them.' Deciding that now was a good time to look at that door himself, he began to ease slowly in that direction, walking as quietly as he could in soggy shoes. Still, taking them off would be worse…He wrinkled his nose in disgust.
He reached the panel Radek had left open and, with a final sideways glance at the unconscious Czech leaning against the wall, began carefully pulling wires and circuitry from the recesses.
McKay'For the love of….What the HECK has Kavanagh done now?' Rodney fumed as he shut down his laptop and unplugged its connections. Pointing to another scientist across the aisle, he snapped, "Johnson. You're with me," as he snagged the small emergency toolkit perched on the edge of his workstation. Then he was striding out the door at a not-quite-run, wanting to get to the Chemlab and strangle the American who had interrupted his project.
As the two men hurried down the corridor, Rodney fumed, 'That misbegotten son of an orangutan! Couldn't he tell this morning that Radek was under the weather? Why'd he call him instead of me?' Of course he knew the reason; the chemist was afraid of McKay, and not of Zelenka. 'We'll soon see about that!'
Of course, he had to admit that Radek looked far from threatening, especially that morning; in fact, he looked more like an extra from the most recent filming of "Night of the Living Dead". Even at breakfast he'd been far from his normal chipper self. Rodney suddenly recalled the vague nausea on the man's face at his own piled-high platter; he'd thought that it was just a comment on his dietary habits. 'Damn you, Radek, if you're sick, say so! You're not Superman!'
He flashed back to the way Radek had 'zoned out' during the staff meeting, and had to be told about Kavanagh's request. 'Kavanagh is such an imbecile!' he thought as he quickened his pace.
Arriving at Chemlab, he noted Sheppard and two Marines approaching from the opposite side of the hallway. "Stick around," he instructed tersely. "You my have to keep me from killing a chemist." With that he produced a screwdriver and began disassembling the wall panel that controlled the door.
Beckett"Hang tight, I'll be right there." Carson flicked off his mike, and turned to two nearby orderlies. "Reeves, Hewitt - grab a gurney, IV fluids and a line, then meet me down in Chemlab!" He snatched his emergency medical kit off the shelf and was out the door at a jog; if nothing else he had a shot of Phenergan with him he could administer IM for the vomiting.
He scowled at the tight knot of worry that settled in his stomach. "Och, lad, why didn't you just come see me when you first felt ill?" From the other patients he knew there was a four-to-six hour prodrome where one felt feverish, nauseous, and dizzy, mostly due to the dehydration. Some of the more stubborn individuals managed to persist in working anyway, until they literally started uncontrolled vomiting or lost consciousness completely. He sighed and shook his head; very few people on Atlantis knew this about the slight Czech, but he was worse than Sheppard about admitting when he was ill and could give Rodney a run for his money when it came to sheer stubbornness about staying at work. If Radek had reached the vomiting stage, his circulatory volume must be critically low; he could potentially have circulatory collapse and die. Taking water by mouth without an anti-emetic would just result in further retching; Zelenka needed IV fluids and a nice overnight stay in the infirmary.
"Hopefully Rodney can open that door," he murmured as he joined the crowd gathering outside Chemlab.
Sheppard greeted him. "Hey, doc. Glad you could join the party."
Carson gave him a smile. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. How's it going there?" He pointed to where Rodney had the door access panel off and was rooting around inside the Ancient technology.
"It'd go a lot faster if everyone would just shut up," griped Rodney past the screwdriver he held in his mouth.
Suddenly they heard a muffled explosion on the other side of the door, while simultaneously a shower of sparks flew out of the circuitry Rodney was working on. He yelped as the fingers of his right hand flew to his mouth and he began hopping up and down in a circle, cursing incoherently.
"What the…" Sheppard began, then keyed his mike. "Zelenka, what's going on in there?" As he spoke he watched Beckett manhandle Rodney's burnt fingers out of his mouth and set about examining them.
Kavanagh"Ah-ha!" chortled Kavanagh in satisfaction as he isolated the wires that led to the fractured crystal. "Who needs Zelenka or McKay? All I have to do is connect these two wires…" He sent a disparaging look towards the still-sleeping engineer, and started uncomfortably as he realized how very…ill…the man appeared. Head tilted backwards to rest against the wall at an unpleasant angle, his mouth hung open in a most…unbecoming fashion. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on the pallid exposed skin surfaces, with enough accumulating at the base of his neck and in his armpits to actually saturate his clothes. His entire body would have fallen over if it hadn't been propped up by a protuberance in the wall, and his legs were splayed akimbo with limp arms resting on his thighs. The chemist shook himself and returned to the task at hand, swearing, "So help me, Zelenka, if I come down with this crap…"
Fumbling in his front right jacket pocket, he produced a small two-bladed pocket-knife, which he used to strip the insulation off the wires. Once done, he triumphantly held up the two exposed ends. "Well, here goes…" with that he touched the two wires together.
A flash and a 'bang!' from the wall caused him to drop the connection and cover his head as the panel exploded outwards, showering him with shrapnel for the second time in under an hour. Wincing, he thought he heard a cry of pain on the other side of the still-closed door, but he couldn't be certain. Sheppard's angry demand of "Zelenka, what's going on in there?" caused his eyes to dart to the ashen man still out cold against the wall. No way to blame him; no one would believe that he could stand long enough to sneeze, much less rewire the door.
In the most imperious tone he could muster, he decided to use Radek in a different fashion and keyed his mike. "This is Doctor Kavanagh; Doctor Zelenka is indisposed right now. In fact, I was so concerned about him that I tried to open this door myself. You people are having a picnic out there!"
McKay"…a picnic out there!" filtered over the open channel, causing Rodney to jerk his hand away from the physician and lunge at the bulkhead in a blind rage. Sheppard and Johnson intercepted him by snagging him under the armpits, but his momentum was so great that his feet almost flew out from under him.
"Let me go!" he demanded. "I'll rip the door open with my bare hands just so I can repeat the action with his limbs!"
"Your hands have had quite enough damage today, thank you," interjected Beckett, frowning and retrieving McKay's right one. "These are first and second degree burns on your fingertips; fortunately they are small, so they should heal with minimal scarring, but they'll be quite tender for the next few days." He let go as Rodney jerked it away.
Throwing an arm over McKay's shoulders, Sheppard tried to calm him. "Come on, Rodney, this isn't helping Radek…"
"No, but it's making me feel better!" McKay irritably shrugged off the familiar touch.
"Speaking of Radek…" murmured Carson, who activated his mike. "Doctor Kavanagh, is Doctor Zelenka conscious?"
A pause followed, during which time the group of rescuers exchanged worried glances. "No, not since he got off the radio. I think he's asleep."
"Let him rest then, lad," instructed Beckett in a reassuring tone. Flipping off his comm, he turned suddenly-serious eyes towards Sheppard. "Colonel, we need to get in there. Knowing Radek, he was probably already exhausted when this thing hit him, and he's going to go into shock soon from dehydration."
McKay turned round, saucer-shaped eyes towards the physician. In a hushed tone he asked, "Is it really that serious?"
Beckett sighed, not wanting to alarm anyone unnecessarily but not wanting to underestimate the problem, either. "I won't know until I get in there, but…aye lad, it could be."
TBC…..
AN: Maybe a little disjointed, what do you think?