AN: Sorry this has taken so long - it got SERIOUSLY derailed by real life and I'm just now getting back to it…

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

5. Recovery

Morning came, as it usually did, bright and cheery with a cloudless sky. O'Banyon covered engineering at the morning briefing, and reported the decimation of the department to less than half strength. On the plus side, the first two people stricken had been released from the infirmary and would be back at work in a few days. On the minus side, three people from botany and one from chemistry were now out with the same bug. The next week promised to be…challenging.

After the meeting Rodney decided to swing by the infirmary and check on Radek before he hit the lab. Entering Beckett's domain proved difficult as well. As the doors slid open, McKay took an involuntary step back into the corridor as his senses were momentarily overwhelmed. In contrast to a few hours earlier, the room was now a cacophony of sight, sound, and smell. The first thing Rodney noticed was the stench; apparently the new arrivals hadn't all received their anti-emetics yet. Next was the noise - his ears were literally assailed with a dissonance of moans, groans, pleas for help, and retching. As far as his eyes could see every bed and cot was filled with miserable people with IV's in their arms with white-coated personnel flitting between them like crazed dragonflies. It seemed the virus had now hit the military population as well.

Clapping a hand over his nose and mouth, McKay wound his way through the melee, making his way towards where he had last seen his friend. Unfortunately, once he reached the right bed, some marine whose name he didn't know was lying there instead. Ignoring the little bells of alarm ringing in his head he thought, 'That's funny. O'Banyon didn't mention that Radek had been released.' He shrugged. 'Maybe he didn't know.'

Snagging the arm of a passing nurse, he demanded, "Where's Dr. Zelenka? In his quarters?"

Rodney was unprepared for the look of profound sympathy he received. He might not pay much attention to expressions and body language on the whole, but this one penetrated and didn't bode well. The woman merely replied, "I'll get Dr. Beckett for you" in a calm voice that was meant to be reassuring but instead sent chills up his spine.

"Nevermind. I'll find him myself," he snapped, trying to quell his rising panic by disguising it with anger. He whirled and stalked purposefully through the chaos, searching for the Scot.

Finally spotting the physician as he listened to a young man's lungs, he grabbed his elbow and forced him around. "Where is Radek?" he hissed, heedless of who overheard.

Beckett shot the unhappy patient a small smile and patted his hand. "I'll be right back," he reassured, then clenched Rodney's arm in a surprisingly-strong grip as he steered him to his 'office'. Once there, he turned to face the scientist, who by this time was certain that the Czech was dead.

Carson was a mind-reader, for the first words out of his mouth were, "No, no. Radek's not dead."

Wide-eyed, Rodney demanded, "Where is he then?"

Carson sighed, running a hand through his hair and perching tiredly on the corner of his desk. "We've created a temporary 'intensive care' across the hall for any patients that require extra monitoring."

"But you said last night that all he needed was some fluid and rest!" Rodney couldn't keep the note of betrayal from his tone.

Carson sighed and rubbed bloodshot eyes. "That's what I thought last night. But Doctor Zelenka has been pushing himself as hard as a certain physicist I could name, and his body is seriously depleted as a result. Therefore, he is much more seriously ill than I originally thought."

"But…he'll be all right?"

Carson grimaced, but forced himself to meet Rodney's gaze. "I hope so."

"That's hardly encouraging." Rodney's brows drew together in consternation. "Can I see him?"

Beckett nodded hesitantly. "Yes. But only for a minute." Standing, he led the way to a room on the other side of the corridor.

Radek looked even worse than the night before. Still unconscious, sweat coated his forehead as he moaned and thrashed weakly, fighting some unseen nightmare. A nurse hurriedly replaced a damp rag on the Czech's forehead as she took his blood pressure. The bedside monitor beeped reassuringly, but the engineer still looked like hell. Rounding on Carson, McKay accused, "I thought you said this was a 24-hour bug? Well, it's been more than twenty-four hours, and he looks worse than ever!"

Carson raised an eyebrow, refusing to rise to the bait. "I also recall saying that medicine's not an exact science. Unlike physics, there are thousands of unknown variables, not the least of which is the baseline condition of the patient affected." The nurse silently handed him Zelenka's clipboard; after glancing at the figures he returned it to her with a smile, then addressed McKay once more. "He's holdin' his own, Rodney. With luck he'll pull through." He clapped a hand to McKay's shoulder reassuringly, then left to tend his other charges.

McKay watched helplessly for a few minutes as the nurse tended his sick friend, then turned and escaped to his lab.

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Radek drifted in a soft, hazy fog. He was vaguely aware of worried voices floating around his head, but he was too exhausted to care. Somewhere in the distance he recognized his nausea had abated, but it seemed…unimportant. What was important was that he was warm and safe and comfortable.

Familiar strident tones made a dent in his consciousness; the voice was worried about something. That was alarming enough to cause him to drift towards consciousness - when that voice worried, 'bad things' frequently occurred. Nevertheless, despite his best efforts, his eyelids remained firmly glued shut. 'Oh well…he'll have to manage without me this time…' he thought, then drifted away to the soft place again.

He had no idea how much time passed before awareness encroached again. At first he noticed a persistent beeping, then the sounds of a hushed argument. It was annoying. The more annoyed he became, the more his awareness of himself and his surroundings sharpened. He concentrated on the steady beep…beep…beep…that he vaguely recognized…'Oh, right. Heart monitor. The infirmary.' He was rather pleased to be able to string together that many thoughts in a coherent fashion. Now, about the ranting… Rifling through a mental rolodex he concluded, 'Doctor McKay is arguing with Doctor Beckett'. He tried to ignore it and slip back to that comfortable gray space, but finally gave up and cracked open one eye.

The two men stood at the foot of the bed in animated discussion, frequently gesturing in his direction. Beckett was the first to notice the patient's sleepy stare, and, grabbing McKay by the shoulders, physically swung him around to see.

Radek cleared his dry throat experimentally, then whispered, "Hello, Rodney."

"You're awake!" McKay was not usually prone to state the obvious, but Radek refrained from commenting.

"Could I have some water?" he felt as pitiful as he probably looked, and his mouth was dry. He still had the nasty taste of his prior vomiting in the back of his throat and he really wanted to wash that away; however, to his relief he felt no urge to retch again.

"Sure, lad." Beckett poured some water into a glass and put a bendy-straw in place before holding it up to Radek. "There you go…take it slow now."

Radek pulled gratefully on the straw. The water was ambrosia, and a few sips managed to satisfy the need to clean his mouth. Once he had enough, he released it and lay back on the pillow with a sigh, turning his attention to his visitor. "Rodney. Why are you here?" He was curious; normally McKay didn't come within a mile of a communicable disease.

Putting on an arrogant air, Rodney replied, "I was just asking Carson when I could expect you back at work."

Radek could tell from the looks exchanged that the discussion was actually far different, but Beckett quickly caught on. "Oh, aye. Not for a few days yet. He's going to be our guest for the time being." He smiled down at Zelenka paternally and patted his hand.

McKay rocked on his heels uncomfortably. "Well…umm…getwellsoon," he mumbled, then scurried out of the room.

Beckett chuckled and shook his head as he watched Rodney depart. Turning back to Radek, he commented, "He's been worried about you."

Zelenka was touched. "So I gathered. Why else would he be here?" His last few words were distorted by a yawn.

Carson smiled. "You just get your beauty sleep now, and we'll talk in the morning."

Radek nodded, exhausted, as his eyes flickered shut. 'Huh, imagine that. Someone actually cares.' With that reassuring thought, he slid into a healing sleep.

---------------

The next morning Radek found himself moved into the main infirmary, where the outbreak was still in full force. The nurses scurried from one cot to the next, barely having time to greet the patient before being called away again. While LTC Sheppard and Dr. Weir both stopped by to check on his status, Rodney didn't reappear.

'Not a surprise. Given his hypochondria, I'm amazed he visited at all.' Radek smiled to himself as he levered his weakened body into an upright position on the pillows, the better to reach his tray. He had graduated to a trial of clear liquids - Beckett told him that if he kept them down, he might be released to his quarters that evening. He managed two juices and a cup of blue jello, and hoped that would be enough.

Around eight, Carson managed to reach his bedside. He flipped through Radek's chart, nodding, then turned to him and asked, "So, would you like to sleep in your own bed tonight?"

Radek nodded emphatically. "I would like that very much," he replied.

"Did someone call for a Taxi?"

Beckett grinned as a flabbergasted Zelenka turned to see John Sheppard pushing a wheelchair up to the opposite side of the bed. "Colonel! You don't need…"

"Oh, but I do. We're all family, aren't we?" The words warmed Radek like blankets never had.

Beckett signaled for a nurse to come over to take out his IV and help him get dressed. Despite a residual shakiness, Radek managed most of it himself, and was soon safely ensconced in the wheelchair.

"Now you take it easy for a few days - if you need meals brought to you, that can be arranged." Carson looked sternly at the Czech, knowing full well his tendency to 'not bother' others.

"I will manage." Zelenka blinked owlishly up at the physician, whose mouth quirked at the corner.

"Don't worry, doc, we'll take care of him," reassured Sheppard. Then, looking down at the seated engineer, "You ready to go?"

"Yes, thank you," Zelenka was looking forward to being back in his own room. The pilot steered the chair into the hall, waving goodbye to the infirmary.

As a whistling Sheppard wheeled the scientist down the corridor, Radek became curious. "Colonel, if you pardon my asking…why are you so cheerful?"

"What? I'm not allowed to have a good day once in a while?" he responded in a mock-offended tone. Leaning in, he added conspiratorially, "Hey, I'm just glad I'm not the one escaping Beckett's clutches for a change!"

They shared a chuckle until Radek's brows creased in concern. "Um…Colonel? My quarters are in that direction…" He pointed backwards over his right shoulder at the corridor they just passed.

"I know. We're going to swing by the mess hall on the way."

"But I'm really not hungry…"

Sheppard shrugged. "So, we're going for the ambiance."

Radek smiled and leaned back to enjoy the ride. Clearly the pilot had a plan that would be revealed when he was ready, and not before. He sat up straighter as they entered the cafeteria, his curiosity getting the better of him. A murmur went up from a small group gathered around a table in the center of the room, which parted as they approached. Radek's gaze was riveted on the centerpiece, which looked vaguely familiar…a molten metal sculpture of dubious artistic merit…

Zelenka's eyes widened as he pointed at the object, twisting in his chair to stare at Sheppard. "Is that…that…what I think it is?" he stammered. One look at the 'cat-that-ate-the-canary' expression on the colonel's face was enough to confirm his suspicions; it was the device from the chemlab.

Rather than answering, John gestured with his chin. "Read the label, doc."

A smiling Miko, standing next to the table, picked up the card and shyly handed it to the Czech. Zelenka focused on the lettering, then read, "Ancient Technology - As Interpreted by Doctor Kavanagh". Radek snorted in appreciation, then handed back the card.

Sheppard smiled innocently. "It'll be on display in the mess hall all week for the public's enjoyment…Funny thing, but I haven't seen the artist since his one-man-show opened."

Radek unsuccessfully tried to cover his blossoming smile with his hand, pretending to cough. "I only hope that the response is such that he…decides to give up art."

"Yes, well, maybe he should stick to chemistry rather than branching into other fields." McKay had arrived, and interjected his two-cents worth.

"That would be best," Radek concurred. Tentatively he added, gesturing at the lump, "When the 'exhibit' is over, could I have it?"

The colonel smirked. "It's all yours. Now let's get you to your quarters before Beckett nails my hide to the wall for having you out after curfew." So saying, he spun the wheelchair around and pointed towards Radek's quarters.

Zelenka sat back with a satisfied sigh to enjoy the ride. It was nice to be family.

The End

AN: The ending isn't quite right, but I lost my momentum with my RL issues - I hope you enjoyed it anyway!