I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.
- Hippocratic Oath
*****
"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Emily breathed, holding the phone up to her ear, waiting for someone to answer. Hotch and Rossi were busy hooking Reid up to various machines to monitor his vital signs, with the nurses' help.
"What?" House snapped, answering the phone.
Cuddy, clearly annoyed, snatched the phone from him and set it on speakerphone. "What's going on?" she asked, concerned, "Any changes?"
"Dr. Reid just fell ill," Emily replied ominously.
"We know you aren't doctors," Amber said, her tone clearly revealing that she was rolling her eyes.
"Technically, Reid is a doctor," Morgan pointed out, "Just not a medical one."
"High fever, severe weakness, exhaustion, dizziness, sore throat, muscle and joint pain," Emily listed, reminding everyone that someone could be dying.
"He just has the flu," House said dismissively.
"You can't discount symptoms just because they aren't interesting," Cuddy told him, "You know as well as I do that there are a hundred other things that it could be based on those symptoms alone." She gave him an icy glare before snatching the white-board marker from him and tossing it to Cameron to write down the symptoms induced by the toxin. Turning back to the phone, she said to Emily, "We're going to work on identifying what the poison might be, let us know should any new symptoms arise. Give him a dose of oseltamivir, in case it really is the flu. And I want you to keep him in isolation so the infection won't spread to anyone else; no one treats him, no one even goes into his room, without a prophylactic suit. Understood?"
"Absolutely." As she hung up, Hotch and Rossi were coming out of Reid's room. "We're under isolation orders for Reid," she told them, "We can't go into his room without a biohazard suit." To the nurse's she added, "We need a dose of oseltamivir."
"We are soin over our heads..." Rossi muttered.
******
"What about African Trypanosomiasis?" House suggested.
"He doesn't have any of the symptoms," Taub said.
"Not Reid, he means the original patient," 13 corrected.
"She's never been to Africa," Cameron said.
"She could have gotten it from a transfusion," Cole argued.
Cameron shook her head. "Never had one."
"Toxins?" Kutner suggested.
"No," Foreman said, "The kitchen she works in is cleaner than some hospitals. But it does serve rabbit. Tularemia fits."
"She doesn't have a rash or an ulcer at the infection site," Amber disputed.
"Wouldn't present if she inhaled it; chopping infected meat could easily aerosolize the bacteria."
"No respiratory symptoms..." Amber argued.
"Two lousy ideas..." House mused, "Treatment for tularemia can cause aplastic anemia, treatment for sleeping sickness kills one in ten patients..."
"We should start with the safer treament," Cameron said.
"By 'safer', you mean the one that's slightly less likely to kill her?" House asked.
"Do it," Cuddy said, "Call the ward, instruct them how to administer the doxycycline."
"What about Reid?" Morgan pressed, aggravated.
******
JJ silently cursed early mornings and profilers. She should know better than to decide something among them with rock, paper, scissors. As it was, she had been the lucky one elected to give the patient the early dose of her tularemia treatment. "Two down, two to go," she told the patient as she sat down to make sure that she stayed upright for the next thirty minutes.
"Two days?" she asked hopefully.
"Two doses. You have about twenty more days of this fun."
"What time is it?" she asked groggily.
"About four in the morning. I drew the short straw."
The patient mumbled something incoherent, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. She startled JJ when, a few seconds later, her eyes flew open again and she asked, "What time is it?"
"Four AM," she repeated, eyeing her suspiciously, "Don't you remember just asking?"
"I don't know..." she trailed off, slumping back into the bed, no longer responsive.
JJ began calling her name, shaking her gently.
In the next room over, Reid was shouting for help. The commotion had woken the rest of the team; they looked from one patient to the next, trying to determine what to do. Reid had blood seeping from his nose and seemed to be panicking.
"JJ, what's going on?" Hotch asked.
"Trying to wake her up," she said through gritted teeth, glancing back and forth between the patient and the pulse monitor. "She fell asleep in the middle of a sentence..."
"Go help JJ," Emily told the others, "I can take care of Reid." She sprinted to suit up, while Hotch moved to check the patient's vital signs. Rossi hovered hesitantly, glancing from one room to the other, eventually deciding on getting a nurse.
"Pulse is fine," Hotch said, "Airway clear. Check her blood pressure." While she did that, he shone a light in the patient's eyes, adding, "Pupils are reactive."
JJ tightened the pulse oximeter on the patient's finger to test her pain response. "She's not responsive to pain!"
Hotch backed away from the bed, there was nothing further they could do for her now without first consulting House. "She's in a coma."
In the silence that ensued, they could once again hear Reid shouting. "Help!" Hotch and JJ both went sprinting into the decontamination room to see what was wrong.
Emily was struggling to remain standing, clutching at the wall with one hand. The other was pinching the bridge of her nose shut while a blood streamed from it to pool on the floor. When she met their eyes, they were met with an uncharacteristic fear.
"It's spreading..." JJ said breathlessly, trying not to panic herself.