Sorry for the delay folks, my shoulder's been acting up and one handed typing is unsurprisingly very slow.

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McG wandered into the kitchen, refreshed and content after a good night's sleep in his own bunk. They arrived back from Spain just after 7:00pm the evening before and had fallen into their beds after a few well deserved beverages. There weren't many creature comforts in their lifestyle so getting to sleep in on a sunday morning after getting back from a mission at a reasonable hour was about as good as it gets.

Usually after a mission he was a bit of a wreck. The post mission crash left him a little less sunny than normal, over tired, and admittedly a little cranky. The entire team was, although most of them would never admit it. Long flights, multiple time zones, adrenaline filled battles and near escapes...he at least had no problem admitting that it sometimes got to him and that there was a good reason all Omega teams were subject to a mandatory 72 hour down time after any call out. That when you arrived home at 3:00 am turkey time, which as actually 5pm the day before in mexico and only a few days before that you were 16 hours ahead of that in the philippines, at some point you mentally were not as sharp anymore and your body started to question what the hell you were doing it and more importantly what is the next meal supposed to be... Breakfast? Dinner? ... Brunner?

Luckily he had always been very talented at eating at any hour of the day. It was a skill that served him well even if sometimes got him some eye rolls when he scarfed down a big meal in the early morning hours.

This mission had been different from normal in many respects. The original objective had actually been obtained without a hitch. It had also been one of those rare ones where they had some downtime before exfil and weren't in a hostile country so they could actually head out to enjoy some of the culture and sights, which was pretty much just code for head to the bar.

Of course that had gone just a tad sideways.

Could he help it if he usually attracted a few "friends" when they went out?

And was it really the worst thing that they got to spend a few more days in Spain? A few more siestas, a few more sangria's, it wasn't like he had stranded them in Siberia or something.

Ok, so there has been the small issue of a Russian defector spy that may or may not have been a fake, but turned out to actually be kind of legit. And sure there had been a possible mole at the NSA in sigint. Oh, and then the venezuelan hit men had randomly showed up and complicated things….. But really for the most part the team had just chilled in the safe house with some pretty agreeable company so it hadn't been that bad.

He would certainly take it over spending multiple days crawling through dirt and mud or being shot at and almost blown up. Plus the flight home had been short and they had practically been already on the same time zone. And the cherry on top of all that was they had gotten back at a reasonable hour. That almost never usually happened and they were well acquainted with night exfils as standard operating procedure and early morning arrivals back at base.

For once they weren't going to spend all of their down period recovering and recuperating. They would actually have the time and energy to do something fun. Maybe a trip to the beach? They hadn't gone there since the bombing. It might be good to try to get back to a new normal with that. Or maybe head into town for night out. Actually, on second thought, maybe not. It's pretty guaranteed that Top will be taking advantage of this period to fit in some extra training while they are all fresh and no one is banged up or over tired. A night out would likely be a poor decision in lieu of that almost certainty. Ah well, the team will find something fun to do.

His scheming is interrupted by Jaz and Preach re-entering the hut, sweaty and out of breath from an apparent run. He can hear Preach laying down a guilt trip on Jaz for cheating so he has a feeling who won the race back to the shelter. A small part of him is satisfied that it's not just him who loses to the sniper on a regular basis.

"Don't worry about it Preach, she definitely cheats" he offers in excuse, remembering all the times she has cut him off or distracted him right as they round the corner for the homestretch. It earns him a punch on the shoulder as Jaz heads to the fridge to get a water bottle.

"Not my fault all you men are too slow to keep up" she fires back with a wink and a taunting smile.

"All men...I can't speak for my entire gender, but I seem to recall hitting the door first the last time we ran" Top joins them from the workout area, his voice slightly muffled under the towel he runs across his face.

Jaz just smirks in response, tossing a water bottles in the direction of Top's outstretched hand. He catches it smoothly and takes a swig before continuing on " besides you all should know better than to race a ninja"

There is a beat of silence while all of the guys reflect on the many different things Jaz kicks their butts at on a daily basis. Their sniper can make just about anything a competition and then proceed to find a way to win it.

That depressing contemplation is broken by the familiar chime of the sat computer.

Their easy smiles quickly shift to ones that are slightly more uncertain.

The team only arrived back last night meaning they are still well within the mandatory decompression period and if anyone is a stickler for that rule its the DIA. Its therefore very unusual to get a call this soon after. Perhaps it's just follow up but those usually just go straight to Dalton directly by email or sat phone.

No this method of communication speaks of something important and McG glances around and sees similar hints of confusion. Dalton mouth tightens and his eyebrows raise slightly, his face is otherwise inscrutable but the increased purpose in his step crossing the room is a tiny tell that he can't hide.

McG and the rest of the team linger for a second before closing in behind their CO.

The room is silent as they watch the encryption fire up and then finally Patricia's face comes into focus.

"Good morning. Sorry to disturb you on a rest day but you know I wouldn't do so lightly. Unfortunately this is important and pertains directly to your team."

She takes a deep breath that has them all shifting uncomfortably

"Ivan Sokolov is dead"

Jaz swears under her breath, outwardly voicing the sentiments that most of them are feeling. In the end he had been a likeable man and they could all respect doing what it takes to protect a loved one.

Dalton cuts through the emotion and goes straight to demanding the facts.

"How?...we made sure his "death" was convincing and that we got him out unnoticed."

"Looks like the Russians got the last laugh. Preliminary tests show he was poisoned, probably started even before we got there."

There is more silence as they all try to assimilate the information. McG can't help but think of Paloma and how hard she had fought to save her father and how it was all for naught.

Preach is frowning for a different reason and he meets Dalton's gaze, brain clearly sorting through the new information and not satisfied with the implications.

Dalton nods slowly, echoing Preach's unease. Something isn't right here. The news of Ivan's death could have easily been delivered in an email briefing so it feels like there is something else going on here.

Dalton finally voices that question "how exactly did he die?"

"Well that is the concerning part, looks like he was poisoned with a radioactive substance. Doctors believe he had been exposed in low doses for months, maybe even years. Seems his cancer may have actually been just the fruition of their long term plan to get rid of him. When his dealings with the Venezuelans were discovered they likely sped up their timetable and increased the exposure rate leading to acute radiation poisoning and death"

Patricia gives them a second to assimilate some of the information and then clears her throat .

"Unfortunately this isn't just a social call, we are concerned about the possibility that some of you may have come in contact with dangerous amounts of radiation while dealing with Mr. Sokalov. It's possible some of your clothes and equipment may have trace levels of radiation. We need you to run some tests to determine if that is the case. Noah will brief you on the particulars."

With that Patricia shifts back to the periphery and Noah's face comes into focus in the center of the screen

"Right, We need you to sweep your area and equipment to ensure everything is below appropriate levels. I believe you have a geiger counter in your gear…. "

All eyes sweep to Preach, the keeper of all things technological.

Off his nod, Noah continues.

"Great. Fire that up and sweep your equipment, any clothes that were worn on the mission, any items that were used etc. You are looking for levels in excess of 100 CPms, anything under that is fine. Anything over, quarantine the item and the immediate area and call base security for a hazmat response."

Within moments Preach has the rarely used piece of machinery out of storage. McG is struggling to remember the last time they used it. Maybe that mission a couple years ago, right before Jaz joined the team, where they were sent to check out a site in Russia where there was concern about what type of weapons had been fabricated. They had swept the place religiously and never gotten more than a slight blip above the regular static noise the machine produced.

They all watched with baited breath as Preach pulled out the machine and began scanning their living quarters. The rest of the team members shuffled awkwardly in place, not keen on standing around and doing nothing, but not really able to do anything except listen to the telltale crackle of the machine as it swept inch by inch.

Shoulders relaxed slightly as he finished the common area as well as the equipment racks. McG felt himself let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. If the equipment they had used was fine then everything else should be.

Now Preach starts down the hallway, pausing briefly outside the door of the first room, Dalton's. Getting no audible reading he enters the room and sweeps quickly before rejoining them in the hallway and continuing down to do the same at his own door and then Jaz's.

When he reaches the fourth doorway the gentle crackling amps up to constant, loud static with rapid clicks that have Preach freezing in place and glancing down at the machine. He frowns and moves back from the door letting the noise recede before approaching again, but there is no denying the increase in noise as he approaches Amir's door.

McG is no expert with that machine but it's pretty clear something isn't right and his stomach tightens at the implications.

"How much?"

Preach grimaces "Too much. Way stronger a reading than just some trace contamination."

They all share a look, as Dalton strides forward and knocks on the door calling out "Amir"

His comes away from the door, stroking his beard as the waits for a response. There isn't one.

"He's probably just out for prayer." Preach is the voice of reason, offering the likely scenario rather than the worst case one.

"The older man continues on pensively "What I don't understand is why the radiation levels are so high. It's almost like there is something in there still giving it off."

"The bottle…"

Jaz's voice cuts out halfway, horror at the realization choking her up mid word.

Dalton turns on her sharply, "what bottle?"

"The bottle" ...Jaz's face is pale and the words spill out fast now with a slight hint of hysteria "Ivan gave Amir a bottle of vodka as we were leaving. Said it was a token of respect from one spy to another. Amir obviously wouldn't drink it but he said it said it would be rude to refuse and that he would bring it back for us to enjoy one night."

She pauses, mind racing ahead "What if they used his vodka collection to poison him? What better way to be sure a Russian ingests something?"

They know instantly she is right. Ivan had an extensive collection of bottles and they had seen him test more than one out during their time at his house.

That revelation has Adam banging on the door more heavily, open hand slamming into the wooden door.

"Amir are you in there buddy"

Again there is no response.

He turns away from the door "Jaz go call base security and get us a a hazmat and medical team here, page Amir while you are at it"

The word medical jolts McG from where he is busy considering everything he knows about radiation poisoning. Alpha and beta rays, exposure times and fatal degradation levels are all swirling around in his brain. He shakes his head to clear the overload of information and refocuses on the important thing. If Amir is in there and has been exposed they need to get him out. He moves towards the door on autopilot and is surprised when Adam steps in his path.

He moves to go around but Adam shifts again blocking him. "We don't know he is in there, Preach is right he is probably off base at prayers. We aren't going in there and exposing everyone just to find that he is elsewhere."

He says it firmly and confidently but his eyes tell another story. They are troubled, not believing what he is trying to sell, busy considering the other possibility just like McG.

There is also a hint of guilt, which tells McG he is making another choice and hating himself for it.

Multiple lives over one.

It's a choice mcG could never make. He always has to try to save everyone.

But their differences are why they both ended up where they did. One as a team leader and one as a medic.

Top's posture in front of the door let's McG know there is no arguing this. That he won't back down.

A part of the medic is tempted to try anyway but Preach clears his throat suspiciously loudly and a still rational part of his brain kicks into gear and reminds him how well it usually goes when he spars his CO. Height differential or not, he is the one who always ends up on his ass.

Dalton seems to realize that common sense has returned to his medic's brain and he relaxes his stance slightly. He lifts his chin and meets the taller man's gaze squarely offering a familiar but firm "We will wait." The words echo from an earlier mission, and just like last time, he knows deep down the time for arguing is over.

It also sparks a recollection of who he and Jaz had been arguing with the last time in Ukraine and he slams his hand again the wall in frustration. Waiting when one of his teammates might be in need of medical attention was never acceptable in his book. The need to do something is overwhelming and he paces a few steps in each direction trying to deal with the excess energy.

The minutes before the hazmat team arrives seem to stretch for days. Then, when they finally arrive, there is an agonizingly long wait while they secure a safe perimeter and prepare a decontamination center and create a plan for extracting the source of the radiation.

McG is just about to suggest that they hurry up and do something this century when Jaz cries out from the kitchen, calling their names at the top of her lungs. Dalton and Preach's heads snap up in unison and soon all three men are sprinting down the hallway as fast as they can towards the sound.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn't to see Amir standing in the entranceway of the hut. In fact he was so sure that the man was unconscious inside his room that he stops short in the hallway entrance to the common area and gapes for a second, trying to take in the sight of his teammate with his prayer rug in his arms, returning from prayer like he does on most mornings when the team isn't called away.

McG feels almost hysterical at the fact that after those tense moments of stress, imagining what lay behind the door, Amir is standing there looking confused at all the commotion. He wants to laugh and cry at the same time because they never seem to catch a break and yet somehow they have here.

He later blames that weird mix of emotions for how long it takes him to realize that something is wrong. Because he should have remembered that even if Amir went out to pray he still spent the night sharing a bedroom with something radioactive. Because deep down he knows from his training that that radiation sickness can have a delayed onset. Instead Jaz is the first one to figure it out and it takes her asking "Amir are you ok?" before McG's stomach flips and he really scans man in front of him and begins cataloguing his clammy pallor, the splashes of pink across his cheeks and the dark rim of his collar that is too soaked in sweat for 9:30 in the morning even in Turkey.

Amir sways slightly and staggers forward mumbling something under his breath and letting go of his grip on his prayer rug to reach out for a wall to steady himself on. The mat hits the ground and unrolls at his feet but Amir seems oblivious to it and instead locks eyes with McG and mutters quietly "I don't feel so good."

McG swallows, trying to find some moisture in his throat so he can respond back. He tries for a soothing tone when suggests "Why don't you head over to the couch buddy and I will come take a look." It comes out decidedly false and hollow with his pounding heart also echoing in his ears.

Amir doesn't seem to comprehend the instruction and instead pushes off the wall, stepping in the opposite direction of the couch and heading towards McG. "Don't feel good' He repeats himself, the words softer and more slurred the second time.

Amir's legs give out on his third step and he goes down hard, uncoordinated arms trying but failing to cushion the landing. His face bounces off the floor and he lays stunned for a second, while the rest of them stare in horror. Jaz recovers first and as Amir starts to stir feebly she rushes in his direction. Just as she is about to reach for him, McG's brain kicks back into gear.

"Don't!"

Jaz freezes, confused

"Don't touch him"

She turns to look at him incredulously, but obeys the command, unsettled by the harsh tone that is not normally present.

McG approaches and kneels down a few feet away from Amir, barking commands over his shoulder, "Preach, bring me the thickest gloves we have and a mask, Top, can you let those bozo's in the other room know that we have someone showing signs of radiation poisoning and that we are going to need to decontaminate before we get him to the hospital"

He turns back towards his downed teammate who is still somewhat conscious and looking slightly confused about how he ended up on the kitchen floor.

"You're alright Amir, just sit tight for a second"

Preach hands him a pair of gloves, and he wrestles them onto his hands just in time as Amir attempts to roll, managing to get into his back and trying to sit up. McG settles a hand on his chest, gently pushing the smaller man back flat on the the ground. "Easy buddy, stay put"

But Amir doesn't settle, his eyes are unfocussed and he is completely non responsive to McG's words. Instead he bucks against his hold, jerking to the side insistently and swallowing heavily. Just in time the medic realizes what's about to occur and helps the man roll to his side as he violently expels the contents of his stomach. He settles the man back down, body now limp beneath his hold as Amir's eyes flutter a few times and then stay firmly shut.

"Amir! Hey wake back up for me"

He rubs hard against the man's sternum but gets no signs of awareness past a faint groan.

He is just about to try again when he is pushed out of the way, and none too gently. Men in white hazmat suits quickly surround Amir throwing around words like protocol, exposure and decontamination while moving significantly faster than McG would have thought possible based on their earlier sluggish pace. They efficiently load him up onto a stretcher and within moments he is out of their sight.

McG glances down at the puddle of vomit left behind, cringing at the red streaks of blood and wondering how a lazy sunday morning went to shit so fast

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Hours later he is standing trapped behind yet another door. This time it isn't his CO blocking his entrance but rather large signs about contamination and proper protective equipment that warn off everyone but the specialized team of nurses and doctors from entering the room.

Their team has been relegated to the hallway to wait.

This time the door is glass and there are large windows so the team can at least see their teammate inside and see what is happening. He isn't sure if that is any better though. Sometimes ignorance is bliss and being able to see his teammate and not be at his side just increases the level of helplessness.

Instead he tries to make sense of what is happening from a far. To see the treatment occurring and intuit what it might mean for his teammate's status. He is carefully analyzing every movement, every medication, every facial expression hidden behind a mask, right down to the pace they move at.

The medic finally turns away from staring, rubbing at the bridge of his knows between his eyes. He has given himself the good start of a headache squinting at the machines from a distance trying to track Amir's vitals and instead he settles for watching something closer. Something he can maybe actually help with.

Looking around he sees Preach sitting quietly on the bench, eyes closed and head tilted back against the wall. He could be asleep, looking relaxed and comfortable, except his lips move lightly as he whispers prayers for his teammate under his breath.

Jaz is a study in contrast, tense and agitated, pacing the hallway and sniping at anyone who suggests she do otherwise.

Dalton strikes the middle ground, he stands at attention, arms crossed as he stares intently through the glass walls that separate them. His eyes are locked on his invisible man as if he might disappear should he look away or blink.

"What do you see"

Adam seems to sense the scrutiny, tossing the question out again seeking an update from his medic without breaking focus on the figure in the bed.

McG knows the real question is actually whether or not Amir is ok and he doesn't answer for a second because honestly he just doesn't know. He doesn't know the exact levels of radiation Amir was exposed to. He doesn't know exactly what type of radiation was in that bottle. He doesn't know exactly how long he was exposed to it. He settles for laying out the facts as best he can unsure how exactly they relate to Amir's situation.

"Looks like they have just finished running some blood tests to see the extent of drop in his white blood cells levels and the level of absorption of the radiation into the key organs, thyroid for example is a big one. They've already started blood transfusions, preventative at this point until they get those tests back in case there is damage to the bone marrow. Looks like they are going with Prussian blue to help combat any radiation still in his system. It's a good choice, will combat the most common types of radiation used by the Russians. It's all speculative at this point until they get some tests back and see what kind of levels and exposure we are dealing with, hopefully just early stage radiation sickness and nothing more but we will have to see.

Dalton, nods with the information, as does Preach who opened his eyes to track the conversation. McG knows from experience they both like to know the facts and the odds, no sugar coating required.

When McG turns back he catches Jaz looking stricken and overwhelmed in the corner of his eye. She quickly tries to plaster on her ice queen mask that she usually saves for matters relating to her newest teammate. They all know she is slowly warming up towards him even if she won't admit it to herself yet. They also know that she has barely put herself back together after losing Elijah and that most of that icey wall has been a result of her not wanting to be hurt again like that. Confronting that possibility with Amir right here is probably not something she is remotely ready for.

He wonders over beside her to where she has finally paused her steps and is staring through the glass windows. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, rescanning the room for the thousandth time trying to pick up a new detail that he hasn't already seen and trying to figure out how to comfort her. After a second he turns his head and directs his words back Dalton and Preach as if he is just continuing on their conversation, even if they aren't the intended recipients.

"Look, its a good thing that they are starting all these treatments, it means its not obviously past a past a point where they can't do anything." He feels Jaz flinches slightly under his arm and he hurries to continue, "Its also a good thing that Amir is young, and strong and healthy and it's apparently a very good thing that he is a muslim because he didn't drink it like Ivan and he went out early to pray which limited his exposure. Have some faith in him, have some faith in the doctors, he will be alright."

McG isn't really a man who believes in anything or anyone specific. He is a man of science, but when speaking of Amir the word faith just seems to naturally fit and he takes comfort in that. Trying to believe his own words. Trying to believe in his teammate and if that means hoping that a higher power is involved than at this point he will take it.

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"Come on man you gotta eat something."

There is no response from Amir, save the rapid click of buttons and slight tilt of his shoulders as he mimics the same turn as his video game character on the screen.

McG is not going to be deterred though and steps in front of the screen blocking his view. Amir rolls his eyes and pauses the game earning a small noise of protest from his competitor. The medic shoots Jaz a look and she sighs and gets up, muttering something about coffee and going to the kitchen to make herself scarce.

He studies the figure left on the couch in front of him. Scanning and assessing and also feeling a small bit of gratitude that the man is even there in front of him on their well worn couch.

When McG had finally been able to pin down a doctor for information at the hospital it became apparent that Amir had been fairly lucky. Test result come back mostly positive, and his exposure while to a fairly high level of radiation had been less than 12 hours and well below fatal levels. The radiation sickness wasn't pleasant but wouldn't kill him. The doctors had carefully monitored things and were satisfied enough with his progress to release him. The main area that was sluggish to rebound was his stomach, he had spent much of the week in the hospital on a strong cocktail of anti-nausea meds and getting his nutrition from a feeding tube and IV bags while his digestive organs struggled to remember what they were supposed to do. The doctors had finally discharged him with clear instructions, insistent that the only way to kick start his digestive system was to keep eating small simple meals so that eventually his organs would have to get with the program.

" I know you don't feel hungry but the only way to get your stomach back to normal is to keep reminding it what it's supposed to be doing."

"I'll eat later"

Amir's voice is hoarse from the abuse his throat has taken when his stomach has lost battle after battle over the last couple days. Even just the suggestion of food has made him look slightly green and he very pitifully gives McG a pleading look not to push it.

The medic takes a deep breath, reminding himself that the former spy is not above manipulating his emotions to get what he wants.

He certainly is sympathetic to Amir's lack of appetite and lack of desire to eat. He's borne witness to the amount of times the man has been praying to a different, more porcelain, God over the last 48 hours.

But he also knows that they are slowly winning the battle even if it may not feel like it from Amir's perspective. Amir was now been stomaching liquids almost 100% of the time and had even managed to tolerate one of Preach's patented smoothies last night before bed. This morning's battle with a small breakfast had not gone his way, but the man had kept it down for almost 2 hours before having to make a dash towards the bathroom which was significant improvement on their other attempts at solid food.

Actually the fact that it has stayed down so long and come back up so recently was probably making it harder for the spy to even conceptualize trying to eat now at lunch.

"Come on man, you know the deal... meals every 3 hours. Doctors orders. What do you want me to make you?"

Amir holds his gaze for a second and McG finds himself having another yet another staring battle with a teammate.

This time though, he wins, and the smaller man gives in with a sigh, dropping his eyes to study his hands.

"Maybe some toast."

"Lovely" his tone is light and chipper "Want some Shaka Khan with that"

Amir rolls his eyes, correcting his teammates on auto pilot now. "Its shakshuka"

Jaz senses the cease fire and wanders back to the couch plopping back down beside him.

"I could make some eggs" she offers.

"I think I'll stick with toast,... I've already been poisoned once this week"

"You wound me". Jaz replies, dramatically falling back into the couch cushions and reclaiming her controller to restart the game.

McG smiles as he heads back to the kitchen to pop in some toast. A few minutes later when he returns with two slices of buttered toast, of which he knows Amir will only even attempt to eat one, he sees that the conversation has veered back into a well tread area since Amir awoke in the hospital.

"Any super powers yet?"

"No Jaz"

"I mean really, what's the point of going radioactive if you don't even turn into spider Man or something afterwards?"

It gets a small chuckle out of Amir, but it quickly turns to a grimace as McG places the plate in front of him and waits expectantly until he takes a bite.

" I think I'd go the ability to fly if I could choose" McG postulates, finding a spot on the couch between the pair.

"Weak choice McG, super strength is where it's at. I want to be able to Hulk out when needed." Preach enters the room and joins the conversation. He is followed a few seconds later by Dalton coming back from their weekly on base briefing.

Dalton's eyes quickly sweep the scene, lighting with approval as he sees the couple bites out of the food in front of Amir. He gives McG a small nod of appreciation.

McG offers him a smile in return, and then draws him into the team debate "What about you Top? What superpower do you think Amir should develop"

"You know, I think I'll stick with our invisible man as he is"

No one could argue with that.