Rodney stormed into the infirmary. He’d only been gone a little over an hour but couldn’t think. He had to know what was wrong with John. He’d been burning up with fever and Rodney’s mind was filled with worries about some new alien virus plaguing his system. He needed answers to help him fight it. John needed him.
The infirmary was strangely quiet. All the beds were empty and Carson didn’t seem to be around.
“What the hell?” Rodney scratched his head. He took a chance and went to the private rooms, checking each one with a quick knock before he swiped the panel to open the door. The first two rooms were empty but through the third he heard a muffled answer.
Quickly swiping the panel, the door whooshed open and there was John strapped to a bed, his face covered in scales, his eyes slitted and pale. He growled at first, then softened to a whimper when he saw it was Rodney.
“John,” Rodney’s heart slammed against his chest as tears tugged the corners of his eyes. He ventured closer, “No, this, this can’t be happening. You can’t be converting into a bug again.”
John gritted his teeth as he tried to speak, “R-Rdneyyy…’greed…exper’men’…srry…”
His voice sounded scratchy and worn out. Nearly inaudible but Rodney could just make it out. He came closer and put his hand on John’s cheek, feeling scales where stubble should be.
“Why? Why would you agree to this? Last time the retrovirus almost killed you. How did you progress so quickly? I…I just saw you feverish a little over an hour ago. This isn’t possible. This isn’t possible,” Rodney was trembling by now as he knelt beside John’s bed. He brushed back tears with his palm in anguish over John’s advanced condition, taking his scaly, clawed hand tied down by a restraint, trying to process what was happening.