AN: Thanks for all the reviews, you die-hard Zelenka fans! Poor woobie…

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

4. Rescue

A knot of worry curled in McKay's gut and made itself at home. He couldn't imagine life on Atlantis without Zelenka to bounce ideas off and critique them. The Czech's acerbic wit at staff meetings was all the more amusing because half the room didn't understand the joke. Setting his mouth to a grim line of determination, he took a deep, steadying breath and approached the open panel, blowing on his fingertips in anticipation. "All right, let's try this again. Hopefully without the help of the trained chimp in the other room." He noticed Sheppard giving one of the Marines instructions in a low tone, and watched as the man departed at a jog.

Narrowing his eyes, he demanded, "What did you just tell him to do?"

Shoving his hands in his pockets, the colonel pointed to the door with his chin. "We have to get to Zelenka sooner rather than later; if Kavanagh's fried the wiring, I want an alternative. I sent Sgt. McLaughlin to get some C-4…just in case."

"What, you doubt my ability to open a door?" huffed Rodney, offended.

John pointed to the charred wall. "No, I just wonder if there's enough unfried wiring left for you to work with."

McKay had to admit that he had a point. His eyes widened as he snapped the fingers of his non-injured hand, then wagged his index finger at John. "You know, that just might keep Urko's dumber brother away from the controls on the other side of that door…"

Tapping his mike, he said, "Kavanagh? Sheppard's sent for C-4 to blow open this door if I can't bypass the damage. You need to get to the other side of the room, preferably under some sort of cover." Turning off the transmitter he smirked, then set to work using almost exclusively his left hand.

Beckett and his orderlies gathered together in a group next to the stretcher waiting for anyone to open the door so they could retrieve their patient. Sheppard and the Marines stood nearby, watching quietly as Rodney worked literally single-handed. Johnson handed him requested tools and lent a hand whenever two were required.

Beckett was just about to insist on blowing the door when it suddenly whooshed open accompanied by a cry of triumph from McKay. Grinning over at Sheppard, he chortled, "See? Piece of cake." His smile faded as the medical personnel rushed past; he'd concentrated so hard on the challenge that he'd forgotten why it was important.

As they entered the lab, Kavanagh jumped up from where he'd been taking cover behind a counter on the far side of the room. "I thought you were using explosives…" he began, but the group unanimously ignored him and concentrated their attention on the slumped form against the near wall. "Hey! I have a right to know…" The chemist trailed off as he realized that no one was listening to his demands, then snorted and left the room in a huff. No one noticed him go.

Zelenka had listed sideways, head bent forward with his chin resting on his left chest. While his hair was plastered down with sweat, his skin had become clammy and the hunched form shivered uncontrollably at odd intervals. Beckett squatted next to the miserable engineer and noted his rapid, shallow breathing as he lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and motioned for the gurney to come closer.

"Radek, lad, open yer eyes for me."

Radek started, blinking in befuddlement. Staring owlishly at the physician through lopsided glasses, he tried to push himself upright. "Doctor Beckett…"

"Aye, right the first time." The doctor proceeded to take his pulse and blood pressure, then smiled reassuringly. "What say we get you to the infirmary?"

Radek gulped and nodded anxiously, gesturing to the mess on the floor nearby. "I am afraid that I…" He trailed off uncomfortably, embarrassed by his own weakness.

"Don't you worry about that; I have some medicine that'll make you right as rain." He gestured for his medic to bring over his IV equipment as Sheppard dismissed his own men and wandered over as well.

"So, how is he, doc?" he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

Getting a good blood return and dialing the fluids wide open, Beckett had a reassuring smile for the colonel as well. "Nothing wrong that a little rest and fluids won't cure." He hung the IV bag in the pole attached to the gurney, then turned to the prostrate engineer. "Now Radek, I'm going to give you some medicine to take away a lot of the nausea, but it'll make you sleepy, all right? Then we're going to lift you onto the gurney and take you to a real bed."

Radek nodded shakily in relief; 'sleepy' sounded heavenly. The physician produced the phenergan from his kit and administered it slowly to minimize the burning. Due to the Czech's blood pressure he could only safely give him a half dose, but Radek started slurring his speech almost immediately. "Thas…good," he mumbled, and Carson smiled paternally.

"All right boys, careful now. Let's get him on the gurney." The orderlies gently lifted a drowsing Radek by the shoulders and knees, depositing him on the stretcher. Pulling up a blanket and securing the safety belt, Beckett nodded. "Let's go." Turning to Sheppard, he added, "You can come by later and check on him if you want, but he'll probably be sleeping."

John smiled. "I'll do that." He watched as the gurney transporting the softly snoring engineer left the room, physician in tow.

Turning to where McKay and Johnson huddled at an adjacent workstation, the colonel's curiosity got the better of him. He peered over their shoulders at a piece of molten modern art that had no apparent redeeming value whatsoever. "What the heck it that supposed to be?" he finally had to ask.

Rodney shot him a look of disgust. "That's supposed to be an Ancient mass spectrometer; now it's just so much garbage. I suspect Kavanagh didn't want to wait for the engineering department to get up to full strength and decided he could do the job himself."

Sheppard stared at the molten mass, sizing up the possibilities. "So….nothing to salvage?"

McKay snorted, "Colonel, if you need a really ugly doorstop, it's all yours. Now I'd like to get back to my real work, if you don't mind." Retrieving his tools and his colleague, Rodney huffed out of the Chemlab, boding ill for anyone who got in his way.

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Hours later, after most of the base had gone to sleep, Rodney peeked his head around the edge of the infirmary door. Noting a light on in Carson's makeshift office at the far end of the ward, he tiptoed past the row of slumbering patients, noting the face of each one. Finally reaching Radek, he paused and stared at him from the foot of the bed. He'd purposefully not looked when they first entered Chemlab for fear that he really would kill Kavanagh, but the chemist was now probably safely in is own bed and in no immediate danger from irate physicists.

The Czech looked somehow…smaller…laying there softly snoring. Despite the closed eyes, Rodney could see the distinct lines of stress in the drawn features; lines that he knew he could see in his own mirror if he allowed himself to look. The dark circles set into the too-pale face spoke of more than just a 'viral gastroenteritis'; they were the reflection of too many late nights and impossible deadlines, of one emergency piled on the next. They were the price of Atlantis' survival, and could be seen on the visage of every scientist in his department.

He snorted involuntarily. 'Except Kavanagh. He seems well rested.'

Even the small sound disturbed the sleeping engineer, hypervigilant from the very act of living in this city with its constant threats. Moaning slightly, the arm with the IV came up to join the other that rested on the blanket covering his chest. Rodney held his breath as Radek settled down again, his breathing evening out in slumber.

"He looks odd without his glasses, doesn't he?"

Rodney jumped wide-eyed straight into the air, startled by the unexpected murmur. "Carson…" he hissed, only to be silenced by the physician putting a finger to his lips in a 'shhing' gesture. He then crooked a finger for Rodney to follow him back to his workspace in the well-lighted alcove.

Once there, Beckett addressed him in low tones. "I didn't want to wake him; he needs his rest." He neglected to add, 'And so do you,' since he knew the rebuke would fall on deaf ears.

Rodney was disturbed. 'He looks so…vulnerable. It's just wrong. Radek is one of the strongest men I know."

Carson smiled paternally. "Wait until he wakes up; he'll look better with a good night's sleep and a couple of liters of fluid."

Rodney was hesitant, recalling the still form. "Are you sure he'll be all right?"

Carson clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Well, medicine's not an exact science, but he should feel better in the morning. Not well enough to discharge, mind you, but better." So saying, he gave McKay a small shove towards the door. "Off wi' ye. Go get some sleep yourself; you could use it."

McKay nodded absently and beelined back to his own quiet lab, where he could finally get some work done.

TBC…..

AN: For those of you who don't know, 'Urko' was the name of the Gorilla General in the old 'Planet of the Apes' movies and series. He was not noted for his intelligence, hence the insult…