As always: Shout out to Nance for being the perfectly proficient proofreading puffin!

Thank you for all the reviews! LinBates, CarolynneRuth, Flamie, TiP, Nance, and AWanderersHaven.

Yes, this story is attempting to become more than what I intended (it's a bad habit of mine hehe). There will be more about the faint white wisp time line in the future...but for now I'm just going to let it hang out in the nether, and give a maniacal laugh about how far off you all are!

For those who have seen Stargate and are speculating about the virus...I can feel your face preparing to meet your palm in this chapter. :)

Thank you for all the follows and favs! And all the silent readers...

Please leave a review if you would be so kind! I'll offer the 200th reviewer(at 173 currently) a special prize hehe

The phone rang and went to voicemail. He hung up, without leaving a message. Gwaine hit redial again. His heart was pounding when his sister finally answered. "Laney! What's wrong?"

"Gwaine...do you know what the hell is going on?"

"Why...what happened?"

"Boyd was getting gas yesterday, in town. He started getting sick when I got home. I called his doctor this morning, who told me to call 911. They rushed Boyd off in an ambulance, because they think he was exposed to the new flu they're talking about on the news!"

"Frack..." Gwaine felt his heart drop.

One of the Stargate teams had returned through the Gate, after a month undercover on a planet that had been visited by an Ori Prior. At first, everything seemed normal...but once they had been released from their duties and left the Base...that was when things began to change. Quicker than anyone would have expected, cases of a disease with flu-like symptoms, but much quicker and deadlier, began trickling in. It was being called P2V...PRIOR2 Virus.*

The first known outbreak was on a planet that SG-1 had visited. Yet, the strain that had come to Earth seemed to be more potent, and the method of delivery became a daunting task to try to determine. There appeared to be no definable explanation as to why some people were stricken, and others were mere carriers.

"I don't know what hospital he was taken to...or anything. Gwaine, the boys are freaking out..."

"How bad was Pops when he was taken?"

"Pretty bad. It hit him hard."

He choked out the next words. He was aware of the prognosis for those infected, and with his grandfather's immune system being lower due his heart condition...Gwaine knew what the outcome would most likely be. "Did...did you and the boys get to say..."

Laney's voice was barely a whisper. "Yeah...I made sure they did, just in case."

The two of them knew firsthand, what it felt like to lose someone you cared for...and worse...what it felt like not to have been able to say the simple things. "I'm going to try and find where they took him. If I find out anything more..."

"We'll..." She cleared her throat. "...we'll get through this. At least you're closer to home now."

Gwaine put in a call to every hospital he could, attempting to find out where his grandfather had been taken. He finally broke down and made his way into the infirmary area. He was surprised to find Lam in her office, reviewing data sheets. Gwaine rapped his knuckles on the door frame, and she looked up with a smile.

"Major Dallon."

"Hey Doc, I know you're busy..."

"I have a few minutes. I need to take a break from reading these projections anyway. I think my eyes are going crossed."

He forced a smile.

"Is everything okay? Are you beginning to feel symptomatic?" She started to rise, but he waved her back to her seat.

Taking a breath, he entered her office and flopped down into the chair across from her. He shook his head. "My grandfather was one of the people exposed at the gas station. I just talked to my sister...and she doesn't know where they've taken him. I tried calling around..."

Lam held up her hand to stop him. "Some of those who were initially infected, have been brought to the temporary infirmary we've set up in one of the upper levels. I can check to see if he is on that list...if you want me to."

Gwaine exhaled a breath of hope. He nodded enthusiastically. "That'd be great."

She turned to her computer and began flipping through screens. "'...Boyd Dallon. Age: eighty-seven...'"

"That's him."

She smiled and continued reading. "One of the first cases identified after the contagion began spreading. It appears he was brought in with advanced symptoms, due to his age and health. So...he's up there. Come on, I'll walk with you. I need to speak with the medical team on that level anyway."

"Thanks." He stood and held the door open for her. "I'll have to buy you a drink after all this, to repay you."

"You don't owe me anything...but...if you still want to buy me a drink, I won't turn you down."

He shot Dr. Lam a surprised smile. As far as his sister was concerned, the petite brunette doctor of obvious Filipino descent, didn't fit what she had classified as his type. After his past experiences, he wondered if perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

(*~*~*~*)

A soft humming sound began to filter through his ears. Leon's eyes opened slowly. His breath deepened and he felt his muscles beginning to come back to life. Rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes, he yawned and dropped his legs to the floor, from where they had been propped on the console of his ship. He glanced at the controls and noticed he was approaching the Solar System.

He set his ship on an outer orbit, far enough away that he wouldn't be detected by any of Earth's defenses. Although he had to admit, he was fairly ignorant as to what measures the Tau'ri currently employed. He felt confident that he was close enough, however, to detect the locator beacon he had placed inside the coin.

All Leon needed to do now, was to sit back and hope his instincts paid off.

He couldn't begin to fathom how someone he knew...from so long ago...was here, nearly fifteen hundred years from the time they all should have died. Although, Gwaine and Percival's disappearances were thought to have been the work of Morgana. He mused about his own unique experience, and laughed.

In his life, it was just another mystery. He wasn't terribly worried about it. It may have just been wishful thinking. "It probably wasn't even him. Just because someone said the name. Hell, 'Gwaine' could be a popular name on Earth." He commented out loud to himself, the sword and his ship; even knowing there would be no verbal response from the latter two. His inner voice argued, however, that it wasn't a coincidence.

"Lancelot, I know you're out there somewhere...damn Ascended asshole that you are...Wish you could tell me what the hell is going on."

Over the years, he occasionally visited with his old friend. It was usually at the low points, when his faith waned. Sometimes he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, and something just seemed to go right, in a situation where, by all accounts, he should have been screwed.

Leon no longer believed in magic. He knew better. In all his travels, he'd seen many things that appeared miraculous and magical, but most were due to a higher developed intelligence and advanced technology.

He had set out on a quest to retrieve a sword and been caught up in a game of intergalactic cloak and dagger, in which most of the players were hidden away in another dimension. Heimdall was a kind soul, and reminded Leon somewhat of Gaius...even though the strange little alien didn't have any eyebrows to raise.

She...although he was informed that gender was irrelevant among the Asgard...helped ease his initial trepidation. He stayed with her and assisted in her research...mostly by asking stupid questions...which she seemed to appreciate, as her mind was far more advanced, and sometimes missed the obvious. She, in turn, taught him about space travel and even about the Cup of Life.

Day and night, he cursed the longevity that the Cup of Life had given him. It was an alien artifact, that was more than ten-thousand years old. Among its 'gifts', it could create an immortal army when it held the blood of the soldiers...something he knew from first hand experience. Also, it had the ability to heal even fatal wounds, when water, purified by the cup's seemingly mystical properties, was swallowed. Although, he found out the hard way, that it was not meant to be drunk from directly. That was where the druids screwed up.

The properties imbued in the cup weren't made for humans, thus the side effect of his apparent immortality. He always wondered why he survived every battle after that, but he never really sat back to examine his luck. Leon had assumed, once Merlin's magic had come to light, that the warlock was the lucky rabbit's foot, so to speak. He had been too busy with helping to contain the outbreak of disease, and commanding the army of Camelot, to realize that he had never become sick himself, though he had to stand by as his own family fell victim.

It wasn't until the battle on Frankish soil, alongside Nemethian troops, when he knew for sure...he should have died.

According to Heimdall, there was no known way to reverse its effects.

"Hello to you too, Sir Leon." A smooth voice said from behind him.

Leon laughed and turned around to eye the spirit of the knight he used to serve with. "Speak of the devil. How the hell are you?"

Lancelot smiled, "I am well. Yourself?"

Flicking his tongue against his teeth, Leon kicked his legs back up on the console and shrugged. Whenever Lancelot visited, it was always a guessing game as to whether he would get any real information out of the Ascended man. "So, I ran across a human named Gwaine the other day. Don't suppose you know anything about that? Didn't look anything like I remember, but...there was something about him. One of his companions actually called him 'Sir' Gwaine." He sighed and picked at his teeth, staring out the window of the cockpit.

Chuckling, Lancelot shook his head. "You've changed over the years." He stated as a simple matter-of-fact. "Is there any reason to think he would be the same as well?"

Leon shook his head and snickered, "Are you telling me, he is immortal as well?"

"No." The other said plainly.

"What are you telling me, then?" He sighed and cursed under his breath. "You are not telling me anything...because you can't!...As usual." Leon didn't even bother to hide the disdain in his voice. "Fifteen hundred years of this crap. I've traveled and seen things a man of my day would never have even dreamed of. I've put up with so much shite. Will it ever end, Lancelot? Will there ever come a day when I am not hunted through galaxies...for a sword...that belonged to a man...I don't even know would be worth following now?!"

"I'll see you soon, my friend."

"Wait..."

Lancelot paused.

"Stick around for a bit. I know you don't want to hear me grumble, but I could use the company."

"You'll have company enough, shortly. You just need to be patient." With that, Lancelot faded away.

Leon picked up a glove from next to his chair, and chucked it angrily at the ghostly form. "Asshole."

A light began to blink on the console. Leon's feet hit the floor, and he looked at it warily. It was the indicator that the coin he had the boy deliver, had been activated. He sat silently, looking at it in shock. He had made certain it was voice-activated with a phrase. Something that, in this day and age, only those who had really served under Arthur knew.

(*~*~*~*)

Elaine cursed again. She was irritated beyond reason. Doing laundry was so much more pleasant with Merlin. The old man was right...her brother's ability in the common household chore was non-existent. It had been close to three weeks since Merlin and the others had left for the UK, and things in the house had pretty much gotten back to normal...at least until this morning.

Gwaine had come home the night before, and thrown in some clothes while she was working late. He had been recalled to the Base before she arrived home. Boyd had become sick through the night, and was rushed off in an ambulance early that morning.

After seeing their great-grandfather off, Toby and Greg had opted to go to school for a sense of normality amidst their worry for the old man. Randy, her youngest, was home, sick to his stomach from the anxiety. The last thing Elaine wanted to do was to fix the washing machine, when she had a load of bedding that reeked of vomit.

She pulled off the front panel of the machine, and began draining the rancid water out of the barrel. Once that was accomplished, she pulled out the filter and cursed whoever came up with the idea of front load washers. With five guys in the house, the filter clogged more often than she cared to think about.

She cringed and stuck out her tongue at the nasty mess of hair, lint and fuzz she dug out of the trap. Her fingernail caught on part of the filter, bending back low on the nail bed. She cursed loudly and almost the tip of her finger in her mouth, before a sense of how nasty that would be, caught up to her. She cradled it in her palm and bit her tongue, to keep from admitting to the pain.

Angrily, she shook the contents of the filter into the bucket of mucky, gray water. A coin that looked like something out of one of Greg's pirate chest toys, fell in with a splash. "Aw...dammit to hell!"

With another curse, she fished around in the pail and finally found it. It felt heavy for a toy coin though, and she realized the only load that had been in the wash, was that of her brother's uniforms. "Oh for fra..." The profanity was abruptly cut off, when she heard a noise and looked up to see Randy standing in the doorway of the laundry room. She tried to keep her cursing to a minimum around the boys. They heard enough of that from their father. Words like 'farfegnugen' and 'son of a biscuit eater', were not uncommon in her house. The coin slipped from her hand and almost fell back into the bucket.

Randy moved on from the doorway, back towards his bedroom. Even sick, he knew better than to push his mother when she had a certain look on her face. "For the love of Go..." She began to utter, as she picked the coin back up. Something embossed on its surface gave her pause, and she tried to read it. "...Camelot? What the hell, Gwaine?"

A beam of light engulfed her. She screamed in fright at the sensation of her body molecularizing, and the world she knew faded around her.

(*~*~*~*)

"Holy shit. Holy fracking shit. Oh, my God. Oh, fracking hell. Oh, my God..." The string of nervous profanity continued, after she saw she was no longer in her laundry room.

"Who are you?" A smooth masculine voice asked.

Laney spun on the man. Her eyes were wide with fear. "Me?! Who the frack are you?!"

He grinned in amusement at her obvious discomfort. Leaning back casually in his chair, he looked her over. Dark hair, with golden highlights, escaped from a ponytail and framed her face. While she was dressed simply in loose fitting clothing and was obviously unprepared to meet anyone, he couldn't help but muse that if she tried, she would clean up quite beautifully.

The grin turned into a teasing smile. A window to the stars framed him from behind and he brushed the dirty blond curls out of his face. His blue-gray eyes sparkled with mirth. "I asked you first."

"Well, frack you! Put me back...or I swear I'm going...!" Her tirade slowed when she noticed the view out the window. Her hand went to her mouth and covered a gasp."Oh...my...fracking God...is that the moon?" Dark brown eyes narrowed at the man. "If this is my brother's idea of a joke..."

"Depends..." He said, in a bored voice. "Who is your brother?"

"Oh, ho ho! Clever, Space Boy! If you think you are gonna use me against him in some way, you are in for a major reality check, buddy!" Her breathing came raggedly through flared nostrils. Her eyes began searching the area inside the ship. Spinning on her heel, she stomped around the cockpit, trying to find a door.

"Space Boy?" He mouthed silently. The man sighed, and the smirk left his face. Though the sight was rather entertaining, he wasn't a man who took pleasure in the pain of others. "I'm looking for someone named Gwaine."

"You and me both! If I find him first, though, there isn't going to be enough left of him for you. I'm just saying." Her fear and discomfort began morphing into anger.

He snorted against the back of his hand. "Obviously, he hasn't changed much over the years, then." He commented to himself.

She rounded on him with a steely glare. "Are you telling me he didn't set you up to this?"

Shaking his head, he held out his hand. "I'm Leon."

Pausing, she took a breath and rolled her eyes. "Un-fracking-believable. They said you died like two-thousand or something years ago!"

Leon laughed, "Now that is interesting, seeing as I was born just over fifteen-hundred Earth years ago."

"What-the-frack-ever! Merlin said you were already gone, when they were talking."

He was on his feet immediately and crossed the cabin towards her. The amusement was gone from his eyes. His voice felt pained as he asked, "Merlin...he's alive?"

Elaine nervously licked her lips at the sudden mood change. "Yeah...um...I hate to do this, but I did leave a sick six-year-old back down there, and I've been waiting for word about my grandfather, who was taken to the hospital."

"I'm sorry. Of course." He turned back to the console and fiddled with a series of controls to put the ship into sleep mode. Leon's mind was running in circles. Leon's mind was running in circles...first Gwaine, now Merlin. He calmed his breathing before he turned back to the woman. "I didn't catch your name."

"Everyone...well, everyone but my grandfather...calls me Laney."

He smiled cordially. "Pleasure to meet you, Laney. Sorry about the...uh..."

Barking out an anxious laugh, she replied, "Seems to be quite a normal thing, lately."

He powered down everything but the transporter, and the cloaking device. His ship, a modified...and stolen...Tel'tak cargo ship from the Goa'uld, was quite common in the Milky Way Galaxy, and thus was less likely to be noticed in passing. On the outside it looked rather like a legless turtle, with a pyramid shaped shell. The nose, which housed the cockpit, stuck out of the front. He'd taken out the standard transporter Rings that were built into each Tel'tak, and had replaced them with an Asgard transporter.

Although the Rings had the added benefit of being able to go through some shields, provided there was a similar set of Rings on the receiving end, the Asgard version took up much less space. At nearly seven foot in diameter, and even stored, the five Rings needed to be stacked at almost two feet in depth.

Thus far, he hadn't regretted his choice. It allowed him to make other modifications and add a few more hidden compartments. He debated on using one of them, adapted with the best security he could manage, to hide Excalibur now.

He looked at the sword, like an old friend. It had been the one constant in his centuries of life. He didn't know if the burden he felt from carrying it...protecting it...for so long would ease when the time came to give it to his king...or if it would create an unbearable hole inside him. Grasping the scabbard, he slung it over his back in a practiced motion. Leon rarely went anywhere without it, and there was no reason he should start now.

"Nice sword." Laney commented sarcastically.

He ignored her tone and stood next to her. On his wrist, was the oddest-looking watch she had ever seen. He swiped his thumb across the square face, then pressed a series of small buttons on the side. Leon snickered at the look on the Laney's face as the transporter beam engulfed her, once again.

*Stargate Episodes 9x10 and 9x11 "The Fourth Horseman" is when the PRIOR2 Virus was brought through to Earth.