I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being; whose illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.
- Hippocratic Oath

*****

"Between 1974 and 1995, the rate of MRSA infections in intensive care units rose from two to twenty-two percent. It rose an additional forty-two percent by 2004, showing that, although hospitals are aware of the problem, they are either ignoring it or there is very little they..."

"I sure hope being deathly ill has mellowed you out a little, because I swear to God, if you're going to be spouting random facts the whole time we're locked up in here, I'll be forced to perform experimental surgery on you..."

Right about now, Emily was starting to wonder what the chances of her infecting everyone else really were... It couldn't be that much more than their risk from the air alone and right now, anything was looking better than being quarantined with Reid.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to tone it down." She shot him a look and gave a nervous squeak. "I'll try really hard."

"Good idea." After several minutes of silence, she quietly asked, "Do you think they'll figure it out in time?" He nodded. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Do you really? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

He evaded answering directly, "Do you really want to know or do you want to be happy?"

Through the glass wall, they could see Hotch pacing back and forth, obviously under tremendous stress, as he spoke on the phone with House. "Who do you think is freaking out more, Hotch or Cuddy?" Emily asked. Reid gave a snort of laughter.

******

"I realize it takes time, but we don't really have time... I've got two agents hemorrhaging massively and no explanation why," Hotch vented, trying to maintain his patience.

"We're doing our best, but as terrible as it sounds, the only sure way we can narrow down the list of possible conditions is to have them develop more symptoms..."

Clearly, that answer wasn't acceptable. Hotch let out a slow breath, his annoyance just barely staying under the surface.

"We'll call you back when we have an answer," Cuddy promised, "Just... try not to worry."

"Malaria!" Hotch heard someone say before he could hang up.

"I didn't think that was a disease that could be used as a bio-weapon," Hotch argued, "Doesn't it require contact with infected blood?" He wanted a diagnosis, but he felt like they were just grasping at straws.

"The symptoms fit," Wilson pointed out.

"Give them a dose of chloroquine," House said.

Hotch was still a little on the fence, "Shouldn't we test them for it first?"

"There isn't time," House said, "If we're wrong, the fastest way to tell will be through whether or not the treatment works."

"Fine," Hotch said, although his tone made it clear that he wasn't happy about how this was transpiring.

"What's the answer this time?" Reid asked when Hotch and Rossi, both suited up, entered the room with two new IV bags.

"Malaria," Rossi said before Hotch could say anything that might betray his disbelief in the idea. He was sure that what Reid and Emily needed was to have faith in the doctors and their diagnoses, not succumb to unfounded stress over the possibility that the drugs might actually make them worse. He shot a warning look at Hotch not to say anything else.

After first connecting Emily's IV, they moved to hook up Reid's. But they barely had the bag hung when Emily gave a frightened whimper. "I can't see!"

"What?"

"My vision's cloudy and my eye really hurts..."

"Damn!"

******

"An overdose of chloroquine can cause toxicity in the eye," Cameron pointed out.

"But not that quickly," Chase said, "And the dose was right."

"For her pre-admission weight, she could have lost enough weight since then to skew the numbers."

"That much, that fast? I don't think so."

"What if it's a new symptom?" Thirteen suggested, "There can't be very many hemorrhagic fevers that also cause conjunctivitis."

Morgan huffed, his patience was wearing thin. "We don't have time to keep guessing at this! You have to keep waiting for them to get sicker before you can come up with anything? You're playing roulette with their lives! The unsub obviously intended to kill, who knows what he put in that bio-bomb? Every hour you wait could be their last!" It took all his self-restraint not to put his fist through the wall as he stormed out of the office.

******

"I thought you'd forgotten about me!"

"We're sorry, Garcia... But things have been..." JJ trailed off, her vocabulary lacking an adequate adjective.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Was there really a bioterrorism threat at the hospital?"

"How did you find out about that?" Hotch interrupted.

"Are you kidding? The media is having a field day over this," Garcia admonished. "What do you need?"

"We need you to play doctor," JJ said.

"I thought that was your job..."

"It was... Well, is... But we need your help. Long story short, we need you to find a disease that causes flu-like symptoms, hemorrhaging, and conjunctivitis."

"You'll know when I know," she said brightly, happy to finally have something to do.

"Oh," Hotch added before she could hang up, "Can you also look up anything we've got on Dr. Travis Brennan."

"Why?" Rossi asked, once Garcia had hung up.

"Didn't I tell you? He's our unsub."