Top helped/dragged Jaz back to her bed and when he had her laying down made his way into the common area to contact command. "Good morning Adam, I'm surprised you aren't already at the range with the team. Is everything alight?" Patricia questioned as it was after midnight in Dc.
"That depends on you defiinition of alright." Top sighed as he took a seat at his desk. Patrcia shooting him a worried look.
"It seems the entire team is down except me, is down with something. All 4 have fevers and various symptoms. McG is trying to get himself together to check everyone out."
Despite their reduced numbers being a serious concern, he couldn't help but smile at the sound of relief in her voice when he explained they were down with illness rather than enemy action.
"Minimum 72 hours before anyone's mission ready again and I think even that's pushing it." Top told her.
"Copy that," Patricia replied. "Keep me updated on their status. And Dalton?"
"Yeah?"
"Try not to get whatever they have."
"I'll do my best," Top assured her before ending the call.
By the time he returned, McG had rallied enough to begin examining the team. Despite his own obvious discomfort, the medic moved from room to room with his medical bag, performing flu tests, checking for strep, and listening to lungs for signs of bronchitis.
McG's medical bag was impressive. Top knew the medic carried IV supplies and emergency medications wherever they went. It was part of what made him invaluable in the field; McG could set up a mini field hospital almost anywhere.
Top found him in Preach's room, frowning at a thermometer. "What's the verdict, doc?"
McG ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "It's bad, Top. We've all got fevers. Preach is 102.4, Amir's at 101.8, Jaz is 102.1, and I'm sitting pretty at 101.5. Everyone's showing different symptoms. Amir's congested enough to be a human humidifier, Preach sounds like he's been gargling gravel, Jaz can't stop shivering, and I feel like someone's using my head for target practice."
"Bacterial or viral?" Top asked.
"Looks viral, but I'm starting Amir and Preach on antibiotics just in case. They're bronchioles don't sound great." McG handed Top a list he'd scribbled. "Here's who needs what meds, when, and how much. I'd do it myself, but..." He swayed slightly, and Top put a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Back to bed, McG. I've got this."
"Call me if anything changes," McG insisted as Top guided him back to his room.
"Copy that."
What followed was Top's most challenging mission to date: caring for four elite operators who, each in their own right, made the worst patients imaginable. Clearly this was some heavenly payback for all the times he gave McG grief when sick or injured.
Amir, always meticulous and organized, had transformed his room into what he called an "optimized recovery environment" but what Top saw as borderline obsessive. Tissue boxes were arranged in perfect rows depending on if they were regular, had lotion or mentholated. Water bottles positioned at precise angles, and a small notebook lay open with a minute by minute symptom tracker.
"Top, please note that I experienced an 8.7% increase in nasal congestion at 0847," Amir said seriously when Top brought his medication.
"I'll make a note of it," Top replied, trying not to smile as he handed over the antibiotics.
Amir examined the pills closely. "These aren't my usual brand."
"They're what McG prescribed."
"But the dissolution rate might be different. That could affect bioavailability by as much as.."
"Amir," Top interrupted, "take the pills."
Amir sighed but complied. "I should warn you that I may experience side effects. I've cataloged potential reactions on page six of my symptom journal."
Top made a hasty retreat before Amir could start reading from his journal.
Preach was next, and Top found him in an almost meditative state in his room, eyes closed, breathing labored but steady.
"Brought your meds, Preach," Top announced.
Preach opened one eye. "Did you know that in some cultures, fever is seen as a spiritual experience? The heat burning away not just infection, but impurities of the soul."
"Fascinating," Top replied, handing him water and pills. "But McG's orders trump cultural interpretations right now."
"McG lacks spiritual imagination," Preach mused, but took his medication dutifully. "You know what this reminds me of, Top?"
"What's that?"
"That time in Belgrade when we all got food poisoning. Remember how Jaz threatened to shoot the cook?"
Top chuckled. "That was Kandahar, and yes, I remember."
"Was it?" Preach frowned. "The fever must be affecting my temporal perception."
"Get some rest, philosopher," Top said fondly, moving on to his next patient.
Jaz had transformed the couch into a tactical blanket fortress that would have impressed military engineers. Only her face was visible from within the pile of blankets, with Patton's head poking out beside hers.
"How's it going in Fort Blanket?" Top asked, setting down her medication.
"Not funny, Top," Jaz mumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in her glazed eyes. "I've never been this cold in my entire life. Not even during that blizzard in Ukraine."
"Your fever's making you feel cold," Top explained, helping her sit up enough to take her pills. "McG says you need to stay hydrated."
Jaz looked at the glass of water like it was poison. "If I drink that, I'll have to pee. If I pee, I'll have to leave my blanket fortress. Not happening."
"If you don't drink that, I'll get McG to hook you up to an IV," Top threatened, his voice serious.
"You wouldn't," Jaz challenged weakly.
From down the hall, McG's hoarse voice suddenly bellowed, "Try me, Jaz!"
They engaged in a brief staring contest, which Top won easily given Jaz's fever glazed eyes. She grudgingly took the water and medication.
"How did you not get sick?" she asked accusingly.
"I didn't partake in the team sleepover and whipped cream shots you all took from the same cans." Top replied with a straight face. "Do you need anything else?"
"Another blanket. And maybe a space heater. And possibly a flamethrower to warm up this frozen hellscape."
"I'll see what I can do about the blanket," Top said, already backing away from further requests.
McG was by far the worst patient, attempting to both treat himself and oversee everyone else's care despite his own misery. Top found him attempting to get out of bed, medical bag in hand.
"Need to check Amir's lungs again," McG explained when Top blocked his path.
"Back in bed, doc," Top ordered. "You assigned me as nurse, remember?"
"But I'm the medic," McG protested weakly.
"And right now you're the patient. Doctor's orders."
"Whose orders? I'm the doctor!"
"Then take your own advice," Top countered, physically steering McG back to bed.
McG fell back against his pillows with a groan. "This is mutiny."
"It's common sense," Top corrected, handing him his medication. "Besides, how are you going to help them if you collapse?"
"Fine," McG conceded. "But I need hourly updates. And if anyone's temperature goes over 103, wake me immediately."
"Copy that," Top said, using his command voice to reassure his medic. "Now rest. That's an order."
