Unexpected by Oparu
Author's Chapter Notes: SG-1 and Atlantis learn to work together. Teyla falls under the shadow of the Wraith. Carson comes down on Elizabeth for her behavior. John comes face to face with his responsibilities.
thanks Shannon, as always
thanks Shannon, as always
"Head hurt?" Ronon grunted, looking over concerned when Teyla closed her eyes again.
The medic Beckett had sent, Emily Wyatt, a slim woman with gentle brown eyes, shook her head as she looked over at Major Lorne. "Her visual responses a little slow," she began softly. "Like she's had a concussion. I can't tell much more without the city's resources."
Teyla nodded to Ronon as she listened to them talk. "It is all right," she insisted as she leaved back against the wall of the jumper. "Contacting the Wraith has always been difficult."
"I found a closer gate," Lorne said. Pointing at the HUD, he indicated a gate in orbit of a small, desolate planet. "No one's really watching anymore. They're all assembling for the jump to Earth. If I approach on the vertical..." The jumper swung in an arc, diving towards the planet.
Teyla's eyes opened for a moment, watching quietly as the vortex formed outside the jumper. Ronon studied her face, looking for the Wraith that had threatened to overcome her control.
"If the Wraith break through," she started grimly.
"I'll stop you," Ronon interrupted. Leaving his seat, he sat down next to her on the bench. "I'm good at that."
"You are," Teyla agreed. Her hand found his knee and squeezed reassuringly. "I felt Michael while I was in contact with the Wraith. He is still alive."
"He might be killed in the battle of Earth," Ronon said. Even with her eyes closed, Teyla could hear the hope in his voice.
"He was human," she argued, feeling the jumper enter the freezing cold of the wormhole. When it faded, autopilot brought the jumper slowly into the bay. "For a time, he thought and felt as we do."
"It doesn't mean I can't wish all Wraith dead," Ronon explained as he heard the jumper hatch open to the floor of the bay. He hauled her to her feet. Teyla found herself clumsy all of a sudden. The strength in the arm wrapped around her shoulders was enough to carry her all the way to the infirmary. She fought it, finding enough strength in her feet to carry her the rest of the way.
Something tickled her mind, dancing shadows across her vision. Teyla could hear Ronon's, Emily's and Lorne's steps behind her and abruptly, she realized she could feel their heartbeats. Major Lorne brushed past her and she felt the essence of his life. His skin crackled with it, like a cloud of energy.
Her stomach growled.
~*~*~*~*~
The general caught his elbow as soon as John circled the corner into the infirmary, pulling him to a halt. "Hey, slow down there!" Jack ordered.
"No, Sir," John disagreed. Biting his lip, he pulled his arm free. "Elizabeth..."
"...is fine," Jack insisted as he studied the panic in the younger man's face. The dried sweat in his hair started to itch. "She got tired and passed out," he steered John into a corner. "But she's doing all right. Don't yell."
Confusion won out through John's concern. "Sir?" he wondered.
"She knows," Jack explained quietly. "She's afraid and she feels badly enough. Nothing you say is going to change her behavior. So be nice."
John's green eyes barely registered the suggestion. His hand rested nervously on his hip. "Can I?"
"Yeah," Jack allowed, moving out of the way. "I'll keep things under control. I think I owe Carter an apology for being late for dinner."
John waited just long enough to be polite. "If that's all, Sir," he begged as he started towards the far end of infirmary.
"Dismissed," Jack said to his retreating back. Scratching his head, he wondered if he'd been so intractable when he was younger. Deciding he'd never been nearly that bull-headed, he waited for Major Lorne's team to emerge from the hallway. Straightening his back, he wondered how much pain he'd be in tomorrow. He'd have to give Elizabeth a hard time.
Footsteps behind him started him, turning around he found Sam with a tray in her hands. "I thought you might have forgotten where the mess hall was," she teased as she set it down on a desk. "Brought something for Colonel Sheppard too, he abandoned his in a hurry."
"He's young," Jack explained as he attacked the cover over the plate. "What is it?"
"Stew?" Sam said, shrugging. "It's good, better than yesterday."
"And you?" he asked and retrieved his fork from edge of the metal tray. "Better than yesterday?"
"Sore," Sam admitted. Pulling over a chair, she sat down next to him as he wolfed down his dinner. "But I'll live. It's healing."
"Uh-huh," Jack paused and reached for the sealed metal thermos on the tray. Sniffing it, he smiled. "You're spoiling me."
"You're what I have left," Sam explained softly, staring at his hands as he ate. She knew some of the lines on his hands and all of the lines on his face. He was the most familiar thing left.
Jack set down the thermos and reached for her hand. Capturing it, he dragged it back to his lap and kept it as he continued to eat. "Did I tell you she agreed?" he muttered around a mouthful of stew.
She passed him a piece of bread from her pocket, unwrapping the paper as she handed it too him. "Good," Sam replied quickly, dazzling him with the ease of her smile. "Doctor Weir didn't try to convince you to stay?"
Licking his fork clean, he left it on the tray. Jack looked her dead on and she saw the twinkle in his eyes. "Well," he paused and leaned forward conspiratorially. "I didn't say she didn't, I just pointed out there was a better man for the job."
Sam retracted the bread, laughing as he started to pout. "I thought you were going to stay out of the matchmaking business," she teased as she threatened to take a bite out of it.
"I said I'd leave Daniel alone," he corrected as he expertly snatched the bread back. "Don't remember anything about anyone else."
Shaking her head as she stood up, Sam appeared to be leaving. Grabbing her sleeve, he pulled her down towards him. In the lonely quiet of his corner of the infirmary, no one saw Jack bring his lips to hers.
Blushing slightly as she pulled away, Sam couldn't help still feeling the pang of worry. She had to remind herself that those regulations were gone, and the wetness of Jack's mouth was no longer forbidden. Her body still tingled as if it were.
~*~*~*~*~
She was sitting up on the edge of the bed, feet hanging over the side. Elizabeth stared down at her black boots and marveled at her chief surgeon's ability to make her feel seven years old again. She'd seen his wrath demonstrated on John and the rest of his team, but she hadn't expected to be on the receiving end.
Lecturing as he forced her to look at her vitals, Carson oozed anxious concern. "Would you look at your blood pressure?" he demanded and pointed at the numbers. "It's twenty points too high. Your electrolytes are unbalanced; your immune response is all over the map and you bloody well think you can just keep going. Work sixteen hour days. Skip meals..."
"I'm sorry," she replied softly without looking up from her fingers.
"I don't want you to be sorry, Elizabeth," Carson's tone cut through the infirmary like a blast of cold air. "I want you to be careful," He warmed slightly when she cringed. "You need to be responsible for more than yourself. I'm putting you on a restricted schedule, just for a week or two until you start to feel better. I'm giving a copy to General O'Neill and Colonel Sheppard. If that's not enough, I'll give it to Rodney and make sure everyone in the bloody city knows when you're supposed to go off duty."
"Thank you," Elizabeth finished simply. She looked up long enough to meet his eyes and calm him with a hand on her arm. "I'll be careful, Carson."
"Good," he said, sighing as his anger left him.
John took the moment's pause to silently make his way to her side. Her hand covered his as he rested it on the bed by her hip. "Shorter shifts?" he began without prelude. He wondered if the general was right and she'd already been chastised enough. Her fingers were cold, but firm as they gripped his hand.
"I'm letting you have eight hours," Carson explained as he stared at the display. "I want you to take an hour off for lunch, try and have an eight hour day. I know there's no stopping you from working when you get back to your quarters..."
Elizabeth's exhausted green eyes meet John's, desperate for something other than disapproval. He managed to smile; trying to imagine her cutting her days back to eight hours was like trying to imagine Rodney sucking a lemon. He wasn't sure Elizabeth had ever only worked eight hours in her life.
"Try to take it easy at night," Carson coaxed gently. "Work in bed if you have to, but..."
"...take it easy," John finished for the doctor. "Got it. Can you," he paused, feeling foolish as he asked for it. "Just give us a moment?"
"I have an analysis of Elizabeth's blood work to run," Carson explained. Relieved that John shared his concern, he wondered if his patient would respond better to him. "But it could take some time. Your vitals still aren't what I'd like, but they're better." He patted her shoulder. "Go home. I'll find you tomorrow and tell ye what I've found."
Playfully trying to keep from being more bitter than was necessary, she managed a feeble attempt at a smile. "Thank you, Carson."
"Take care of yourself now," he ordered again. John shared a serious glance and the doctor wondered if he was getting away while he could.
John found it was difficult to smile back. A moment ago his heart had been pounding in his throat at the mere idea of her being in trouble. Now he needed it to be quiet long enough for him to be reasonable for her. Suddenly, he couldn't help wishing Teyla would walk in that door and finish his thoughts for him. "Hey," he said finally.
"I'm okay," she reassured him before he even had to ask. "I'm still a little dizzy, but it's a lot better since I got here. I just feel so stupid because I..."
"...passed out?" John interrupted. He pulled himself up on the bed next to her. "Or is your ego intact enough for fainted?"
"Both are pretty bad, aren't they?" she wondered. Rolling her head on her shoulders took some of the tension out of her neck. "I'm sorry if I...if you were doing something important."
"Dinner," John explained simply. "I waited, then Carter said we should just give up." His eyes wandered over the display of her vitals, and the more confusing blood work on the display next to it. "Figured she'd had more experience than I have."
"Did you eat?" she wondered apologetically. She hadn't thought he'd wait that long and chided herself for keeping him from his meal. "I thought you'd..."
"I'll find something," John promised and waved off her apology. "You're really okay?"
"Yeah," Elizabeth lied and then laughed at his smile. Scratching a hand through her dark curls, she met his eyes and conceded. "I'll live."
~*~*~*~*~
Walking to the transporter with him a few minutes later, she let the doors close out the city. Staying in the corridor would have only invited more people to talk to her and she'd had enough of housing complaints, clothing shortages and the growing unrest surrounding the cafeteria schedules. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall.
"I want you in bed," he ordered seriously when the transporter stopped near their quarters.
She giggled as he led her out of the transporter. Repeating it barely audibly to herself, she made him wince as he realized how it sounded. "I'm probably not up to that," Elizabeth teased dryly; enjoying the flush running over his face.
John shrugged and waved his free hand in front of the blue crystals for their door. "We have a sign," he pointed out before the door slid away. "Ronon decided it really just needed your name..."
She wouldn't have noticed it without his prompting. As it was, she barely caught the black block letters spelling her last name before the door slid away. "It's nice," Elizabeth replied softly. Her giggling faded and the idea of bed didn't seem that terrible anymore. Sitting on the edge as she ripped off her boots, she watched him turn on the computer that had been sitting on the windowsill.
"Work?" she asked, slightly surprised.
"I work," he replied in mock indignation.
"I didn't mean..."
"Somehow you being pregnant doesn't make my days any shorter," John complained mildly as he settled down on the floor next to the bed. "I thought if I didn't have to report to the IOA I'd have less paperwork...this is not the case."
His grumbling made her smile. "What are you working on?" she wondered as he lifted up the computer for her to see.
"Teyla and Lorne asked me to look over the data they collected about what our refugees used to do," he explained. John pulled himself up to the bed and pointed out the file he had open. "Some of them might make good team members. Susanna Foster was a police officer on Earth, which means weapons training, teamwork..."
"Police work is good preparation for traveling off-world and fighting the Wraith?" she asked, puzzled by his logic. She toyed with her hair, running her fingers through lazy curls.
Distracted watching her hair; it took John some time before he realized there had been a question. He brushed his thumb sheepishly across his lips. "More than being a librarian or an accountant," he reminded her. "I've spent hours looking over career histories. A few have training or military experience, but they're rare. There are nearly one hundred fifty children and a hundred more senior citizens."
Slipping her hand up to her temples, she rubbed them slowly. "In tribes of nomads the old teach the young," Elizabeth remarked. Letting her eyes wander their quarters she wondered how much their society would have to adjust. How long of a childhood would their children get now? What age was too young to ask them to become soldiers?
"Maybe you passed out because you worry too much," John suggested playfully. Hoping he could draw her out of her thoughts, he returned the computer back to the windowsill and reached for her shoulders. "We'll make it."
"We'll make it," she repeated softly. "That's the John Sheppard plan of action?"
Surprising her with his breath on the back of her neck, he slid over the bed and sat directly behind her. "Yeah," he agreed. "Well, more like the John Sheppard projected outcome."
"The Genii will be able to take up a lot of our manufacturing needs," Elizabeth said after a pause. Changing the subject back to one she didn't have to feel so helpless, she let herself lean back against him. "Ladon's scientists were almost drooling at the idea of getting their hands on some of our technology."
"You're advancing them what..." he paused and tried to place the level he'd seen on their home world, "...forty years or more? Beginning of the cold war to what we know about the Ancients." He tried to resist the urge to play with her hair.
"We need allies," Elizabeth responded with bitter desperation. "We can't make it on our own, even in this city with all this technology..." she trailed off, turning towards his shoulder. "Nine hundred people isn't enough. We'll need the Genii, the Athosians and anyone else we can sway to our side. We don't even have a planet anymore."
His hands were strong on the taunt muscles on the back of her neck as he worked the tension from them. "Pick a planet," he suggested softly. "There's a lot of them out there. New Athos is all right."
"Is it better than where we started?" she asked. Closing her eyes let them rest for a precious moment. "Maybe we should just land again and barricade the fort. Maybe they won't come..."
"...maybe," he couldn't sound like he believed her. "Mitchell and Doctor Jackson brought us that weapons platform from the Asgard. We should get our fleet ready to go and take them out, every last nanite."
"John-"
"Us or them," he laid out simply. "They wiped us out, but the majority of their fleet is still in orbit of the smoking crater that was once our planet. If we take out their shipyards we remove their ability to increase their numbers..."
"...for now," Elizabeth injected. Shaking her head slowly, she met his eyes. "They found a way before."
"They might have more ships," John argued optimistically. "The Artemis is decades ahead of anything we can come up with. We don't exactly have a shipyard anymore; we should steal what we can so that when they or the Wraith or someone else comes for us, we can kill them."
"Us against the universe?" she wondered darkly, struggling to match his optimism and failing completely.
"Yeah," John agreed too quickly. The darkness deepened in her eyes and he immediately felt the stab of guilt in his stomach. "Not that extreme...I mean..." pausing helplessly, he stared her down, "...we'll make it."
They sat in silence while he tried to come up with a better way to convince her. John's mind failed him and he wondered if he was as exhausted as she was. Dealing with the Wraith as a constant threat had been one thing, this was entirely different. He felt like he was stuck being camp leader, part of the UN and military genius all at the same time. He still couldn't imagine how much work it was to be her. He stopped fidgeting with the sheet on the bed and whipped his head up to look at her when she spoke.
"Jack turned me down," she admitted heavily. The weight of the city felt like lead in her chest as she sighed. "He wants to go with Colonel Carter on the Artemis."
"Can't blame him," John replied lightly. He let go of her shoulders and returned to his computer. "I can't imagine being in love that long and not being about to do anything about it."
She closed her eyes, but she couldn't find the words to ask him. It wasn't her place. If she asked him to leave his team she wouldn't be asking him as the leader of Atlantis. Lying down on the bed beside him, Elizabeth knew in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't ask. The ceiling hung lazily over her head, twinkling in the light of the stars outside the window.
He got through three pages of work before he realized she was asleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Carson scraped his cup across the desk towards him and kept reading. The rich aroma of coffee pervaded the cafeteria as the night shift cook brought out another pot and set it next to them.
Beside him, Daniel dug into his piece of cake and peered over his shoulder. "She's completely obsessed," Daniel pointed out as he licked his fork clean. "Her personal logs are blending with her work notes."
"Aye," Carson agreed. Daniel's nudge on his shoulder reminded him that he had his own cake. Private Samara usually kept a stash of treats for anyone who had to be up all night working. After the first hour, she'd left the cake pan on their table and wished them luck. "But I..." he paused, yawning into his cup before he took a sip.
"You understand," Daniel finished for him. "I can't say I haven't done that on occasion."
"You can't hack into Ancient computers and expect them to do whatever you want," Radek Zelenka's voice carried angrily down the hallway into the cafeteria.
Making a beeline for the coffee, Rodney kept shaking his head. "I'm not hacking..." He trailed off, smelling the cake. "...cake!" Taking the coffee pot and cup with him as he turned, he pulled up a chair and snatched the pan.
"You're hacking," Radek argued and flopped into a chair next to him. "You're attacking a delicate system with a battleaxe and expecting it to respond to your commands."
Carson barely looked up from his notes, but rolled his eyes at his colleagues over the computer screen. Daniel gave them more respect.
"You're doing something with the computer?" he fished politely, taking the cake back from Rodney and offering it to the Czech scientist.
"Thank you," Radek replied with a smile before turning his glower back to Rodney. "He got into some kind of intuitive control system. Something only the Ancients were able to access before the Replicators took over, now he's playing God..."
"...I'm trying to make the city a better place for everyone!" Rodney exclaimed. Licking chocolate frosting from his fingers, he set down his cake long enough to gesticulate his way through his point. "We need food, clothing, weapons and medical supplies...now..." he glared back at Radek, "...the city must have been able to provide these things with a minimal investment of raw materials. It survived a siege that lasted a century..."
"We were just starting to get somewhere and bam! We ran into firewall," Radek explained as he mimed slamming his hands into a wall. "Rodney thinks he can hack his way in..."
"I doubt any Ancient system would be that-" Carson began sarcastically.
"Simple?" Daniel offered.
"-easy..." Carson finished as he stared over his coffee at Rodney. "You'll never get in that way. It's probably like the chair; John had to get through the firewall mentally."
"It's not that easy," Rodney argued as he drank the last of his coffee and poured another cup. "I tried. Radek and I found the right terminal, we both tried it, it won't accept us."
For a moment, he heard a voice whisper in his ear, as light as the whisper of a ghost on the wind. Daniel jumped slightly, feeling the cold fingers on his spine. The voice had a suggestion. She knew something. Curious, he asked what she bid him. "Do you think the city is still tied to Helia?" He asked as he ran the thought over in his head. "It would make sense," he realized on his own. "Ten thousand years ago Atlantis was run by a council of three: a military commander, a governor, and a steward. The steward was the voice of the people."
The rest of the faces at the table looked at him in confusion but Daniel kept going. "She would have reinstated that kind of government. The other two are dead...but the city must be waiting for her mind to release control to the next government."
"John got through the firewall," Rodney reminded him. "He turned most of the systems we just got into on in the first place."
"John's a pilot," Radek muttered over his plate of sweet-smelling cake. "He's certainly not a council member. He was just trying to get the city to fly-"
"We need Helia," Rodney suddenly agreed with Daniel. "It makes sense, if she releases the city, Elizabeth..."
"Helia's in a coma," Carson reminded everyone over his computer. "i don't see what you're going to be able to do. I can't even say for sure she'll ever come out of it. I've never seen that kind of neurological damage."
"You have to come up with something!" Rodney insisted as he stared across at the doctor. "There are parts of the computer system that may never come online if we can't get through the last firewall."
"I can't make people snap out of comas with my fingers," Carson snapped more harshly than he intended. After a moment he retracted his tone. "Right now I need to figure out this virus, I promise Helia's being well cared for."
"We know," Radek said for both of them. "We will find a way, won't we Rodney?"
Realizing what he was taking Carson away from, Rodney relented. "We'll find it," he added. "Any progress on the virus?"
"As far as we can tell ATA or LK476 as Mauve calls it, is a double-recessive sex-linked trait," Carson explained patiently. "It's a lot like being colorblind, if you get any other genes except the right ones, you can see color."
"It has levels," Daniel piped up as Rodney refilled his coffee. "Some people have more instances than others."
"What I am?" Rodney wondered as he looked back to Carson.
"It's not that simple..." Carson began to protest before giving up. "In the crudest sense, you're a three," he answered with a slight smile. "I'm a two. Major Lorne and his father are also threes like you."
"Colonel Sheppard?" Radek asked as he demolished the last of his cake and started a second piece.
"General O'Neill and John have the highest 'level'," he answered as he stretched his hands. "The two of them and Captain Helia all have five."
"And Elizabeth?" Rodney pried a little deeper. "How did her blood turn out?"
"That's what we've been trying to figure out," Carson finished with a heavy sigh. "Not all walls are in computers."
~*~*~*~*~
"Busy?" Sam started gently. He was sitting alone on the balcony outside of command. She'd needed the life-signs detector just to find him.
John tilted up his head, startled at her presence. "No," he admitted cautiously. He'd come outside to think when his paperwork was done and his place in bed next to Elizabeth hadn't yielded any rest.
"I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful," Sam offered as she sank down on the floor next to him. She still moved slowly, but her broken ribs were only a nagging twinge now when she moved. "All those stars and nothing between us at all. It seems like I could throw something and hit one." Smiling slightly as she leaned over to him, she leaned back. "Except for the immensely complicated force field."
"There's that," John agreed.
"I was always in such a hurry to get to the stars," Sam began thoughtfully. "I'd look up at them when I was a kid and wish I was there...far far away from my backyard..." her voice broke slightly and John felt the fresh pain in her tone. "I still can't believe I'll never see those stars again."
"There was a place in Antarctica," he offered in returned, keeping his eyes away from the tears he knew had to be on her face. "Where if you sat on the ice at night, you felt like you were the only person in the universe it was so quiet." Sighing, John dragged a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I miss that. I never thought I'd get used to the stars here," John offered as gently as he could. Smiling slightly, he touched her foot with his. "They just looked weird at first."
"Like the sky was scrambled?" She teased, forcing herself to smile.
"Gets better," John promised as optimistically as he could. The pause that followed was comfortable. The kind of silence he liked.
"I need General O'Neill-" Sam bit her lip and corrected herself, "-Jack on my ship. I've been trying to...get over...find a way..." finally she stopped trying to speak and shook her head. "He's all I have left."
"It's not..." he felt his tongue trip him, "...I don't...my dad and I aren't close."
"I thought mine hated me after my mom died," Sam admitted as she dropped her hand to his shoulder. "Doesn't mean I don't want to be a parent someday."
"Someday turns into today faster than you think," John pointed out without moving her hand. "Faster than I thought anyway."
"But you love her," Sam said for him. "I saw that."
"I've never really been subtle," he replied as he studied the smooth floor of the balcony. Looking back up at the stars, he sighed again. "I want it to be right. No one asks to be born after the apocalypse."
"You said the stars took some getting used to," Sam reminded him as she turned to meet his eyes. "Now they look like home, don't they?"
"Yeah," John admitted after enjoying the silence. "It is home, now." Pointing at the trail a piece of space dust left on the forcefield, he grinned at her playfully. "Want me to bring a shotgun to the wedding? Just in case?"
Sam started to giggle, making his smile brighten. "Teal'c still has his ZAT."
~*~*~*~*~
She'd been dreaming, like she had when the Wraith had been in the city. Teyla ran through darkened corridors, feeling her breath hiss in her chest. She hungered. There were creatures all around her, things she could feed upon, but she dared not give herself away. They'd find her; these things of flesh and energy.
She ducked around a corner, narrowly missing the sight of one of the numerous patrols. How long had they been looking for her? How long before she ran out of places to hide? There was glass around the corner. One of the windows lent life to her pale reflection. Teyla stopped dead, admiring herself the way a lion might pause before a pool of water. In the glass between her and space she was tall, strong and pale. She was a predator, strong and without mercy. Her cold eyes oozed black in the pits between the bones of her face.
She knew that face. She had seen the cold sneer on his lip when he turned to her like a piece of meat.
Hands banged against her door, summoning her from the dream. Teyla tried to wake up, but she had no power. Her body moved on it's own. As she walked past the mirror for a moment she thought she was still dreaming. Michael's face stared at her from the from the wall of her bathroom. When she opened the door, he spoke.
"I am sorry," he said in her voice. "I was asleep."
"Rodney and some doctor want you," Ronon grunted with a yawn of his own. "Been trying to get you on the radio."
Teyla tried to say something or do anything to fight the darkness inside of her. Michael's presence filled her like oil, slithering into all of her muscles. He grabbed her jacket from the hook on the wall.
"We shouldn't keep them waiting," Michael purred and slipped past Ronon into the hallway.
Ronon might have noticed the slight change in her speech if it had been later. Four hundred hours in Earth time was something everyone tried to avoid. He fell in step beside her, carrying on a conversation with Michael she couldn't bear to listen too.
Focusing her mind in a Herculean feat of strength, Teyla managed to take back her left foot just long enough to make her trip up the stairs in the hall.
Ronon's hand caught her before she fell more than a fraction of a meter. "Clumsy..." he teased with a toothy grin.
Michael smiled and licked her tongue across her lips. "I was making sure you were paying attention," he replied. Cringing as she shared his hunger, Teyla watched her friend's eyes soften with amusement.
The stranger next to Rodney must have been the doctor Ronon had mentioned. He wore a simple white coat over his Earth clothes and had unruly dark hair that fell just above his shoulders. He looked as exhausted and unkempt as Rodney. Neither man had shaved in over a day and stubble was dark on their faces.
"Teyla," Rodney called and waved her over. "Good, we need you." He motioned towards a bed.
The doctor was more polite. "I'm Simon, Doctor Wallace," he introduced himself and extended his hand. Pulling it back apologetically when Michael didn't take it, he smiled nervously. "Sorry, old habits..."
Instead of shaking his hand, Teyla felt her lips being forced into a smile. "It is of no consequence," Michael offered politely. "How may I help you Doctor Wallace?"
"Simon would be fine," he replied, running a nervous hand through slightly greasy hair. "We need your abilities. Captain Helia is dying, her EKG's fallen several points in the last few hours. Doctor McKay-"
"-There are things in her mind we need," Rodney interrupted anxiously. "Codes and secrets we may never be able to get our hands on again. I know it's a long shot, but you're the closest thing we have to a mind reader..."
"I have connected to the Wraith," Teyla heard her voice say. Michael's desire burned in her stomach. His hunger boiled up like a poisonous thing inside of her. "I have never attempted a human and certainly not an Ancestor."
"I think I can help you," Rodney explained with proud excitement. His eyes shone as he crossed to a table holding an Ancient device. "We found this in the medical storage bay. It seems to be some kind of..."
"...amplifier," Simon interjected before Rodney was able to jump into the technical details. "We believe it amplifies the natural abilities of a human mind. There's a slight danger."
"Yes, yes," Rodney started impatiently as he lifted the simple metal circlet. It was the same green as some of the walls of city and fairly harmless looking in his hands. "It's an untested piece of Ancient equipment, that's why you're here. You're a doctor."
"Helia doesn't have much time," Simon explained with a heaviness in his voice. He didn't understand everything. Just that the petite blonde woman on the bed by his left hand had been tortured in ways so horrible they had left her comatose and failing.
Michael's hunger surged within her like a living thing and for a moment Teyla lost herself in it. She wanted what he did. She needed to feed. "I will do what I can," she listened to herself agree.
"Great!" Rodney said as he turned his back. Calling up something complex on the computer terminal, his mind was already working when he looked at her again. "It should be simple, a numerical sequence, some kind of password..." his eyes flashed with hope. "Anything could be a clue."
Teyla heard leather rustle as Ronon took up his place at her side. Through everything the warmth of his hand on her shoulder was the one thing she knew Michael couldn't corrupt. It was Michael who lay her body down on the bed next to Helia and him who smiled up at Simon to reassure him. "I will be all right," he promised with her lips. "I survived contact with the Wraith, how much danger can there be in a single woman?"
Teyla felt the malice no one else could. The hunger blazed into a fire stronger than anything she had felt. It ran through her veins like acid, demanding what little life was left in the body across from her. She didn't know what was happening when Michael let them slip the circlet on her head.
It only took a moment for him to accomplish what had taken her hours of meditation. Helia's mind allowed him in as easily as if she had opened a door. In an instant, she felt like she was dreaming again. Helia stood before her. A pale figure in a circle of blackness that stared at her with exhausted eyes.
"What do you want?" Helia asked softly, her words sounding hollow in the void.
"We need the code for the city," Teyla said on her own. Somehow she was separate. In the transfer to Helia's mind she had become free of Michael and the sound of her voice now startled her.
Michael leapt from behind her, flying forward and knocking Helia to the black ground. The other woman didn't even jump. "Give it to us," Michael growled as he ran one fingernail down Helia's pale cheek.
The Ancient captain stared up at Teyla with an emptiness that froze the hunger she'd felt a moment ago. Teyla had seen that emptiness before in those who had watched worlds fall to the Wraith. Helia had no fight left.
Teyla tried to move. She could fight; she could give Michael everything she had and make him work for the life force he wanted. Her feet were rooted into the blackness. Her hands were locked to her sides as if they had been carved from stone. Her voice, it seemed, was all she had. "Don't Michael..." she pleaded.
Michael only looked up for a moment before he took the kill. He slammed his hand down on Helia's chest and fed. His victim only sighed before succumbing. Her hair faded to gray as her skin shriveled away. Helia's eyes went deader before going out but the only sound she made was a wistful sigh.
As the horrible scene finished before her, Michael stood. He lifted his hand and licked red blood from his flesh with a pale tongue. "Too easy..."
Teyla woke in the same nightmare. Michael's presence filled her like a disease, pervading every fiber of her being. He sat them up and made her watch as Simon pulled the blanket over Helia's sightless eyes. "Her command code..." he began to explain as Rodney typed it quickly into the computer. The swirling display of color flashed to pure white before growing still.
Rodney laughed; his excitement couldn't be contained by death. "That's it!" His eyes softened as he looked from Ronon to Simon. "We're in!" he explained quickly. "The computer is waiting for the council of three to input their command codes."
"The council?" Ronon asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and kept his eyes on her.
"Atlantis was ruled by a council of three before they left for Earth," Rodney explained as he tried something else in the computer. "The computer seems to be set up for input. Whatever Helia's code did, it reset everything. We should get Elizabeth down here..."
"It's early," Ronon interrupted. "She can play with your computer after breakfast."
"But..."
"You should let her sleep," Simon agreed with a slow nod of his head. "She could use some rest."
Rodney took a moment before nodding. "I guess it's not going anywhere," he conceded with one more longing look at the computer. "It's just...this is the last thing..." his hands pleaded along with his eyes, "...the last thing left locked, I mean if we get this, we'll have everything. Every system."
"You'll have it tomorrow," Carson interrupted authoritatively from the doorway. "It's oh-four-hundred. We all need sleep. Go on now, the lot of ye."
Ronon caught her shoulder and started to lead her back to her quarters. Teyla felt Michael envy the strength pulsing through Ronon's body. She felt the hunger rise again.
'I can't get him," Michael whispered to her. "Not yet."
Alone in the darkness of her mind, Teyla shuddered and tried to keep what was left of her separate from the growing cold of Michael's mind.
~*~*~*~*~
Back in the infirmary, Carson sank into a chair in front of his desk and listened to the footsteps leave him alone. Rodney had protested against leaving, but eventually even the determination keeping him awake lost to exhaustion. The scientist was curled on a spare bed, sleeping soundly. Only Simon remained, standing quietly over his shoulder.
"The amount of virus in her blood shouldn't be able to jump and fall like that," Simon said aloud what was troubling Carson. "It's not a natural profile, even with immune response."
"She doesn't have an immune response," Carson reminded his colleague as he drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk. "It's almost like there's an outside force...something that causes the severe spikes in the viral count."
Simon shrugged behind him and pulled a crate from the Odyssey over next to Carson. "Is there something in the city that keeps track of everything? Some kind of really advanced monitoring system?"
"Sensors," Carson replied quickly, wondering if it was that simple. "In a laboratory setting the virus responded to one of the upper wavelengths of infrared radiation...it's entirely possible..." he drifted off as he tried to remember how to check the internal sensors.
Giving up, he left his chair and grabbed Rodney's shoulder. "How do I check the radiation profile of the last few days?"
Rodney barely opened an eye and groaned. "Internal sensors, second column, third option," he explained without even sounding awake. "Select it twice and chose the weekly readout."
Simon nodded quickly from the keyboard. "He's right; I think I've got it."
Carson took over, checking the graph of the radiation against the viral profile that had been giving him so much trouble for the last few hours.
"Looks like a match," Simon announced with relief. He had no idea what kind of bizarre alien virus came and went with a radiation profile. He had even less of an idea how it would be generated by a growing fetus.
Carson seemed less confused. In fact, the other doctor had the faraway look Simon had come to count on. He let Carson think as he wondered if Elizabeth had known the mess that would come from carrying John Sheppard's child. How different would things have been if he had come when she asked? He was fairly certain no child of his would be filling her blood with an unknown virus.
"Sheppard said she has episodes that come and go," Carson started to think aloud. "He was rather vague, but it would seem to fit with the random increases in the amount of virus in her body." He paused and scratched the itch exhaustion had left on the back of his neck. "If we keep an eye on the radiation..."
"...we can watch her blood." Simon finished. He felt the air escape his chest in another sigh of relief. Maybe now they could finally help Elizabeth instead of just hoping and wishing she felt better.
"Maybe it is that simple," Carson hoped as he stared into the screen of his computer. "Something in the radiation is increasing the rate of mutation. Demanding her body adapt the new genes faster than her tissues can handle. At a normal rate it would take nearly two years to manipulate all of her DNA, but with his spikes..."
"...twenty eight more weeks," Simon concluded for him. "That's the time left before she delivers. If you run a projection, I'll bet you the last of the coffee it'll be twenty eight weeks before the virus runs its course."
Carson yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I think I'll be letting ye have the coffee," he promised and grinned sheepishly. "The computer agrees with you."
"So when she delivers?"
"She'll be infused with ATA," Carson sighed with an admiring shake of his head. "Most likely the same five instances as Sheppard."
"What does that mean?" Simon wondered, hoping his thoughts weren't entirely rhetorical. "Why encode that in a virus? How did someone even get it into her body in the first place?"
"If we knew that I could go to sleep..." Carson admitted with another yawn. "Come on, let's try and get a bit of a nap before we have to deal with the next crisis."
Simon dragged himself to his feet and followed the other man out of the infirmary. curling up on a bed like Rodney seemed more tempting than the walk back to his quarters, but Carson was good company. At least in his own quarters he could shower. That way the next crisis could at least find him with clean hair.
"You'll get used to it," Carson promised as he stopped in front of Simon's quarters. "The hours are terrible, there's no overtime, and it's rare that anyone notices what we do here."
"But we save lives," Simon replied. Wondering if the bed in his quarters could ever feel better than it was about too.
"Aye, that we do."
The medic Beckett had sent, Emily Wyatt, a slim woman with gentle brown eyes, shook her head as she looked over at Major Lorne. "Her visual responses a little slow," she began softly. "Like she's had a concussion. I can't tell much more without the city's resources."
Teyla nodded to Ronon as she listened to them talk. "It is all right," she insisted as she leaved back against the wall of the jumper. "Contacting the Wraith has always been difficult."
"I found a closer gate," Lorne said. Pointing at the HUD, he indicated a gate in orbit of a small, desolate planet. "No one's really watching anymore. They're all assembling for the jump to Earth. If I approach on the vertical..." The jumper swung in an arc, diving towards the planet.
Teyla's eyes opened for a moment, watching quietly as the vortex formed outside the jumper. Ronon studied her face, looking for the Wraith that had threatened to overcome her control.
"If the Wraith break through," she started grimly.
"I'll stop you," Ronon interrupted. Leaving his seat, he sat down next to her on the bench. "I'm good at that."
"You are," Teyla agreed. Her hand found his knee and squeezed reassuringly. "I felt Michael while I was in contact with the Wraith. He is still alive."
"He might be killed in the battle of Earth," Ronon said. Even with her eyes closed, Teyla could hear the hope in his voice.
"He was human," she argued, feeling the jumper enter the freezing cold of the wormhole. When it faded, autopilot brought the jumper slowly into the bay. "For a time, he thought and felt as we do."
"It doesn't mean I can't wish all Wraith dead," Ronon explained as he heard the jumper hatch open to the floor of the bay. He hauled her to her feet. Teyla found herself clumsy all of a sudden. The strength in the arm wrapped around her shoulders was enough to carry her all the way to the infirmary. She fought it, finding enough strength in her feet to carry her the rest of the way.
Something tickled her mind, dancing shadows across her vision. Teyla could hear Ronon's, Emily's and Lorne's steps behind her and abruptly, she realized she could feel their heartbeats. Major Lorne brushed past her and she felt the essence of his life. His skin crackled with it, like a cloud of energy.
Her stomach growled.
~*~*~*~*~
The general caught his elbow as soon as John circled the corner into the infirmary, pulling him to a halt. "Hey, slow down there!" Jack ordered.
"No, Sir," John disagreed. Biting his lip, he pulled his arm free. "Elizabeth..."
"...is fine," Jack insisted as he studied the panic in the younger man's face. The dried sweat in his hair started to itch. "She got tired and passed out," he steered John into a corner. "But she's doing all right. Don't yell."
Confusion won out through John's concern. "Sir?" he wondered.
"She knows," Jack explained quietly. "She's afraid and she feels badly enough. Nothing you say is going to change her behavior. So be nice."
John's green eyes barely registered the suggestion. His hand rested nervously on his hip. "Can I?"
"Yeah," Jack allowed, moving out of the way. "I'll keep things under control. I think I owe Carter an apology for being late for dinner."
John waited just long enough to be polite. "If that's all, Sir," he begged as he started towards the far end of infirmary.
"Dismissed," Jack said to his retreating back. Scratching his head, he wondered if he'd been so intractable when he was younger. Deciding he'd never been nearly that bull-headed, he waited for Major Lorne's team to emerge from the hallway. Straightening his back, he wondered how much pain he'd be in tomorrow. He'd have to give Elizabeth a hard time.
Footsteps behind him started him, turning around he found Sam with a tray in her hands. "I thought you might have forgotten where the mess hall was," she teased as she set it down on a desk. "Brought something for Colonel Sheppard too, he abandoned his in a hurry."
"He's young," Jack explained as he attacked the cover over the plate. "What is it?"
"Stew?" Sam said, shrugging. "It's good, better than yesterday."
"And you?" he asked and retrieved his fork from edge of the metal tray. "Better than yesterday?"
"Sore," Sam admitted. Pulling over a chair, she sat down next to him as he wolfed down his dinner. "But I'll live. It's healing."
"Uh-huh," Jack paused and reached for the sealed metal thermos on the tray. Sniffing it, he smiled. "You're spoiling me."
"You're what I have left," Sam explained softly, staring at his hands as he ate. She knew some of the lines on his hands and all of the lines on his face. He was the most familiar thing left.
Jack set down the thermos and reached for her hand. Capturing it, he dragged it back to his lap and kept it as he continued to eat. "Did I tell you she agreed?" he muttered around a mouthful of stew.
She passed him a piece of bread from her pocket, unwrapping the paper as she handed it too him. "Good," Sam replied quickly, dazzling him with the ease of her smile. "Doctor Weir didn't try to convince you to stay?"
Licking his fork clean, he left it on the tray. Jack looked her dead on and she saw the twinkle in his eyes. "Well," he paused and leaned forward conspiratorially. "I didn't say she didn't, I just pointed out there was a better man for the job."
Sam retracted the bread, laughing as he started to pout. "I thought you were going to stay out of the matchmaking business," she teased as she threatened to take a bite out of it.
"I said I'd leave Daniel alone," he corrected as he expertly snatched the bread back. "Don't remember anything about anyone else."
Shaking her head as she stood up, Sam appeared to be leaving. Grabbing her sleeve, he pulled her down towards him. In the lonely quiet of his corner of the infirmary, no one saw Jack bring his lips to hers.
Blushing slightly as she pulled away, Sam couldn't help still feeling the pang of worry. She had to remind herself that those regulations were gone, and the wetness of Jack's mouth was no longer forbidden. Her body still tingled as if it were.
~*~*~*~*~
She was sitting up on the edge of the bed, feet hanging over the side. Elizabeth stared down at her black boots and marveled at her chief surgeon's ability to make her feel seven years old again. She'd seen his wrath demonstrated on John and the rest of his team, but she hadn't expected to be on the receiving end.
Lecturing as he forced her to look at her vitals, Carson oozed anxious concern. "Would you look at your blood pressure?" he demanded and pointed at the numbers. "It's twenty points too high. Your electrolytes are unbalanced; your immune response is all over the map and you bloody well think you can just keep going. Work sixteen hour days. Skip meals..."
"I'm sorry," she replied softly without looking up from her fingers.
"I don't want you to be sorry, Elizabeth," Carson's tone cut through the infirmary like a blast of cold air. "I want you to be careful," He warmed slightly when she cringed. "You need to be responsible for more than yourself. I'm putting you on a restricted schedule, just for a week or two until you start to feel better. I'm giving a copy to General O'Neill and Colonel Sheppard. If that's not enough, I'll give it to Rodney and make sure everyone in the bloody city knows when you're supposed to go off duty."
"Thank you," Elizabeth finished simply. She looked up long enough to meet his eyes and calm him with a hand on her arm. "I'll be careful, Carson."
"Good," he said, sighing as his anger left him.
John took the moment's pause to silently make his way to her side. Her hand covered his as he rested it on the bed by her hip. "Shorter shifts?" he began without prelude. He wondered if the general was right and she'd already been chastised enough. Her fingers were cold, but firm as they gripped his hand.
"I'm letting you have eight hours," Carson explained as he stared at the display. "I want you to take an hour off for lunch, try and have an eight hour day. I know there's no stopping you from working when you get back to your quarters..."
Elizabeth's exhausted green eyes meet John's, desperate for something other than disapproval. He managed to smile; trying to imagine her cutting her days back to eight hours was like trying to imagine Rodney sucking a lemon. He wasn't sure Elizabeth had ever only worked eight hours in her life.
"Try to take it easy at night," Carson coaxed gently. "Work in bed if you have to, but..."
"...take it easy," John finished for the doctor. "Got it. Can you," he paused, feeling foolish as he asked for it. "Just give us a moment?"
"I have an analysis of Elizabeth's blood work to run," Carson explained. Relieved that John shared his concern, he wondered if his patient would respond better to him. "But it could take some time. Your vitals still aren't what I'd like, but they're better." He patted her shoulder. "Go home. I'll find you tomorrow and tell ye what I've found."
Playfully trying to keep from being more bitter than was necessary, she managed a feeble attempt at a smile. "Thank you, Carson."
"Take care of yourself now," he ordered again. John shared a serious glance and the doctor wondered if he was getting away while he could.
John found it was difficult to smile back. A moment ago his heart had been pounding in his throat at the mere idea of her being in trouble. Now he needed it to be quiet long enough for him to be reasonable for her. Suddenly, he couldn't help wishing Teyla would walk in that door and finish his thoughts for him. "Hey," he said finally.
"I'm okay," she reassured him before he even had to ask. "I'm still a little dizzy, but it's a lot better since I got here. I just feel so stupid because I..."
"...passed out?" John interrupted. He pulled himself up on the bed next to her. "Or is your ego intact enough for fainted?"
"Both are pretty bad, aren't they?" she wondered. Rolling her head on her shoulders took some of the tension out of her neck. "I'm sorry if I...if you were doing something important."
"Dinner," John explained simply. "I waited, then Carter said we should just give up." His eyes wandered over the display of her vitals, and the more confusing blood work on the display next to it. "Figured she'd had more experience than I have."
"Did you eat?" she wondered apologetically. She hadn't thought he'd wait that long and chided herself for keeping him from his meal. "I thought you'd..."
"I'll find something," John promised and waved off her apology. "You're really okay?"
"Yeah," Elizabeth lied and then laughed at his smile. Scratching a hand through her dark curls, she met his eyes and conceded. "I'll live."
~*~*~*~*~
Walking to the transporter with him a few minutes later, she let the doors close out the city. Staying in the corridor would have only invited more people to talk to her and she'd had enough of housing complaints, clothing shortages and the growing unrest surrounding the cafeteria schedules. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall.
"I want you in bed," he ordered seriously when the transporter stopped near their quarters.
She giggled as he led her out of the transporter. Repeating it barely audibly to herself, she made him wince as he realized how it sounded. "I'm probably not up to that," Elizabeth teased dryly; enjoying the flush running over his face.
John shrugged and waved his free hand in front of the blue crystals for their door. "We have a sign," he pointed out before the door slid away. "Ronon decided it really just needed your name..."
She wouldn't have noticed it without his prompting. As it was, she barely caught the black block letters spelling her last name before the door slid away. "It's nice," Elizabeth replied softly. Her giggling faded and the idea of bed didn't seem that terrible anymore. Sitting on the edge as she ripped off her boots, she watched him turn on the computer that had been sitting on the windowsill.
"Work?" she asked, slightly surprised.
"I work," he replied in mock indignation.
"I didn't mean..."
"Somehow you being pregnant doesn't make my days any shorter," John complained mildly as he settled down on the floor next to the bed. "I thought if I didn't have to report to the IOA I'd have less paperwork...this is not the case."
His grumbling made her smile. "What are you working on?" she wondered as he lifted up the computer for her to see.
"Teyla and Lorne asked me to look over the data they collected about what our refugees used to do," he explained. John pulled himself up to the bed and pointed out the file he had open. "Some of them might make good team members. Susanna Foster was a police officer on Earth, which means weapons training, teamwork..."
"Police work is good preparation for traveling off-world and fighting the Wraith?" she asked, puzzled by his logic. She toyed with her hair, running her fingers through lazy curls.
Distracted watching her hair; it took John some time before he realized there had been a question. He brushed his thumb sheepishly across his lips. "More than being a librarian or an accountant," he reminded her. "I've spent hours looking over career histories. A few have training or military experience, but they're rare. There are nearly one hundred fifty children and a hundred more senior citizens."
Slipping her hand up to her temples, she rubbed them slowly. "In tribes of nomads the old teach the young," Elizabeth remarked. Letting her eyes wander their quarters she wondered how much their society would have to adjust. How long of a childhood would their children get now? What age was too young to ask them to become soldiers?
"Maybe you passed out because you worry too much," John suggested playfully. Hoping he could draw her out of her thoughts, he returned the computer back to the windowsill and reached for her shoulders. "We'll make it."
"We'll make it," she repeated softly. "That's the John Sheppard plan of action?"
Surprising her with his breath on the back of her neck, he slid over the bed and sat directly behind her. "Yeah," he agreed. "Well, more like the John Sheppard projected outcome."
"The Genii will be able to take up a lot of our manufacturing needs," Elizabeth said after a pause. Changing the subject back to one she didn't have to feel so helpless, she let herself lean back against him. "Ladon's scientists were almost drooling at the idea of getting their hands on some of our technology."
"You're advancing them what..." he paused and tried to place the level he'd seen on their home world, "...forty years or more? Beginning of the cold war to what we know about the Ancients." He tried to resist the urge to play with her hair.
"We need allies," Elizabeth responded with bitter desperation. "We can't make it on our own, even in this city with all this technology..." she trailed off, turning towards his shoulder. "Nine hundred people isn't enough. We'll need the Genii, the Athosians and anyone else we can sway to our side. We don't even have a planet anymore."
His hands were strong on the taunt muscles on the back of her neck as he worked the tension from them. "Pick a planet," he suggested softly. "There's a lot of them out there. New Athos is all right."
"Is it better than where we started?" she asked. Closing her eyes let them rest for a precious moment. "Maybe we should just land again and barricade the fort. Maybe they won't come..."
"...maybe," he couldn't sound like he believed her. "Mitchell and Doctor Jackson brought us that weapons platform from the Asgard. We should get our fleet ready to go and take them out, every last nanite."
"John-"
"Us or them," he laid out simply. "They wiped us out, but the majority of their fleet is still in orbit of the smoking crater that was once our planet. If we take out their shipyards we remove their ability to increase their numbers..."
"...for now," Elizabeth injected. Shaking her head slowly, she met his eyes. "They found a way before."
"They might have more ships," John argued optimistically. "The Artemis is decades ahead of anything we can come up with. We don't exactly have a shipyard anymore; we should steal what we can so that when they or the Wraith or someone else comes for us, we can kill them."
"Us against the universe?" she wondered darkly, struggling to match his optimism and failing completely.
"Yeah," John agreed too quickly. The darkness deepened in her eyes and he immediately felt the stab of guilt in his stomach. "Not that extreme...I mean..." pausing helplessly, he stared her down, "...we'll make it."
They sat in silence while he tried to come up with a better way to convince her. John's mind failed him and he wondered if he was as exhausted as she was. Dealing with the Wraith as a constant threat had been one thing, this was entirely different. He felt like he was stuck being camp leader, part of the UN and military genius all at the same time. He still couldn't imagine how much work it was to be her. He stopped fidgeting with the sheet on the bed and whipped his head up to look at her when she spoke.
"Jack turned me down," she admitted heavily. The weight of the city felt like lead in her chest as she sighed. "He wants to go with Colonel Carter on the Artemis."
"Can't blame him," John replied lightly. He let go of her shoulders and returned to his computer. "I can't imagine being in love that long and not being about to do anything about it."
She closed her eyes, but she couldn't find the words to ask him. It wasn't her place. If she asked him to leave his team she wouldn't be asking him as the leader of Atlantis. Lying down on the bed beside him, Elizabeth knew in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't ask. The ceiling hung lazily over her head, twinkling in the light of the stars outside the window.
He got through three pages of work before he realized she was asleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Carson scraped his cup across the desk towards him and kept reading. The rich aroma of coffee pervaded the cafeteria as the night shift cook brought out another pot and set it next to them.
Beside him, Daniel dug into his piece of cake and peered over his shoulder. "She's completely obsessed," Daniel pointed out as he licked his fork clean. "Her personal logs are blending with her work notes."
"Aye," Carson agreed. Daniel's nudge on his shoulder reminded him that he had his own cake. Private Samara usually kept a stash of treats for anyone who had to be up all night working. After the first hour, she'd left the cake pan on their table and wished them luck. "But I..." he paused, yawning into his cup before he took a sip.
"You understand," Daniel finished for him. "I can't say I haven't done that on occasion."
"You can't hack into Ancient computers and expect them to do whatever you want," Radek Zelenka's voice carried angrily down the hallway into the cafeteria.
Making a beeline for the coffee, Rodney kept shaking his head. "I'm not hacking..." He trailed off, smelling the cake. "...cake!" Taking the coffee pot and cup with him as he turned, he pulled up a chair and snatched the pan.
"You're hacking," Radek argued and flopped into a chair next to him. "You're attacking a delicate system with a battleaxe and expecting it to respond to your commands."
Carson barely looked up from his notes, but rolled his eyes at his colleagues over the computer screen. Daniel gave them more respect.
"You're doing something with the computer?" he fished politely, taking the cake back from Rodney and offering it to the Czech scientist.
"Thank you," Radek replied with a smile before turning his glower back to Rodney. "He got into some kind of intuitive control system. Something only the Ancients were able to access before the Replicators took over, now he's playing God..."
"...I'm trying to make the city a better place for everyone!" Rodney exclaimed. Licking chocolate frosting from his fingers, he set down his cake long enough to gesticulate his way through his point. "We need food, clothing, weapons and medical supplies...now..." he glared back at Radek, "...the city must have been able to provide these things with a minimal investment of raw materials. It survived a siege that lasted a century..."
"We were just starting to get somewhere and bam! We ran into firewall," Radek explained as he mimed slamming his hands into a wall. "Rodney thinks he can hack his way in..."
"I doubt any Ancient system would be that-" Carson began sarcastically.
"Simple?" Daniel offered.
"-easy..." Carson finished as he stared over his coffee at Rodney. "You'll never get in that way. It's probably like the chair; John had to get through the firewall mentally."
"It's not that easy," Rodney argued as he drank the last of his coffee and poured another cup. "I tried. Radek and I found the right terminal, we both tried it, it won't accept us."
For a moment, he heard a voice whisper in his ear, as light as the whisper of a ghost on the wind. Daniel jumped slightly, feeling the cold fingers on his spine. The voice had a suggestion. She knew something. Curious, he asked what she bid him. "Do you think the city is still tied to Helia?" He asked as he ran the thought over in his head. "It would make sense," he realized on his own. "Ten thousand years ago Atlantis was run by a council of three: a military commander, a governor, and a steward. The steward was the voice of the people."
The rest of the faces at the table looked at him in confusion but Daniel kept going. "She would have reinstated that kind of government. The other two are dead...but the city must be waiting for her mind to release control to the next government."
"John got through the firewall," Rodney reminded him. "He turned most of the systems we just got into on in the first place."
"John's a pilot," Radek muttered over his plate of sweet-smelling cake. "He's certainly not a council member. He was just trying to get the city to fly-"
"We need Helia," Rodney suddenly agreed with Daniel. "It makes sense, if she releases the city, Elizabeth..."
"Helia's in a coma," Carson reminded everyone over his computer. "i don't see what you're going to be able to do. I can't even say for sure she'll ever come out of it. I've never seen that kind of neurological damage."
"You have to come up with something!" Rodney insisted as he stared across at the doctor. "There are parts of the computer system that may never come online if we can't get through the last firewall."
"I can't make people snap out of comas with my fingers," Carson snapped more harshly than he intended. After a moment he retracted his tone. "Right now I need to figure out this virus, I promise Helia's being well cared for."
"We know," Radek said for both of them. "We will find a way, won't we Rodney?"
Realizing what he was taking Carson away from, Rodney relented. "We'll find it," he added. "Any progress on the virus?"
"As far as we can tell ATA or LK476 as Mauve calls it, is a double-recessive sex-linked trait," Carson explained patiently. "It's a lot like being colorblind, if you get any other genes except the right ones, you can see color."
"It has levels," Daniel piped up as Rodney refilled his coffee. "Some people have more instances than others."
"What I am?" Rodney wondered as he looked back to Carson.
"It's not that simple..." Carson began to protest before giving up. "In the crudest sense, you're a three," he answered with a slight smile. "I'm a two. Major Lorne and his father are also threes like you."
"Colonel Sheppard?" Radek asked as he demolished the last of his cake and started a second piece.
"General O'Neill and John have the highest 'level'," he answered as he stretched his hands. "The two of them and Captain Helia all have five."
"And Elizabeth?" Rodney pried a little deeper. "How did her blood turn out?"
"That's what we've been trying to figure out," Carson finished with a heavy sigh. "Not all walls are in computers."
~*~*~*~*~
"Busy?" Sam started gently. He was sitting alone on the balcony outside of command. She'd needed the life-signs detector just to find him.
John tilted up his head, startled at her presence. "No," he admitted cautiously. He'd come outside to think when his paperwork was done and his place in bed next to Elizabeth hadn't yielded any rest.
"I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful," Sam offered as she sank down on the floor next to him. She still moved slowly, but her broken ribs were only a nagging twinge now when she moved. "All those stars and nothing between us at all. It seems like I could throw something and hit one." Smiling slightly as she leaned over to him, she leaned back. "Except for the immensely complicated force field."
"There's that," John agreed.
"I was always in such a hurry to get to the stars," Sam began thoughtfully. "I'd look up at them when I was a kid and wish I was there...far far away from my backyard..." her voice broke slightly and John felt the fresh pain in her tone. "I still can't believe I'll never see those stars again."
"There was a place in Antarctica," he offered in returned, keeping his eyes away from the tears he knew had to be on her face. "Where if you sat on the ice at night, you felt like you were the only person in the universe it was so quiet." Sighing, John dragged a hand through his hair. "Sometimes I miss that. I never thought I'd get used to the stars here," John offered as gently as he could. Smiling slightly, he touched her foot with his. "They just looked weird at first."
"Like the sky was scrambled?" She teased, forcing herself to smile.
"Gets better," John promised as optimistically as he could. The pause that followed was comfortable. The kind of silence he liked.
"I need General O'Neill-" Sam bit her lip and corrected herself, "-Jack on my ship. I've been trying to...get over...find a way..." finally she stopped trying to speak and shook her head. "He's all I have left."
"It's not..." he felt his tongue trip him, "...I don't...my dad and I aren't close."
"I thought mine hated me after my mom died," Sam admitted as she dropped her hand to his shoulder. "Doesn't mean I don't want to be a parent someday."
"Someday turns into today faster than you think," John pointed out without moving her hand. "Faster than I thought anyway."
"But you love her," Sam said for him. "I saw that."
"I've never really been subtle," he replied as he studied the smooth floor of the balcony. Looking back up at the stars, he sighed again. "I want it to be right. No one asks to be born after the apocalypse."
"You said the stars took some getting used to," Sam reminded him as she turned to meet his eyes. "Now they look like home, don't they?"
"Yeah," John admitted after enjoying the silence. "It is home, now." Pointing at the trail a piece of space dust left on the forcefield, he grinned at her playfully. "Want me to bring a shotgun to the wedding? Just in case?"
Sam started to giggle, making his smile brighten. "Teal'c still has his ZAT."
~*~*~*~*~
She'd been dreaming, like she had when the Wraith had been in the city. Teyla ran through darkened corridors, feeling her breath hiss in her chest. She hungered. There were creatures all around her, things she could feed upon, but she dared not give herself away. They'd find her; these things of flesh and energy.
She ducked around a corner, narrowly missing the sight of one of the numerous patrols. How long had they been looking for her? How long before she ran out of places to hide? There was glass around the corner. One of the windows lent life to her pale reflection. Teyla stopped dead, admiring herself the way a lion might pause before a pool of water. In the glass between her and space she was tall, strong and pale. She was a predator, strong and without mercy. Her cold eyes oozed black in the pits between the bones of her face.
She knew that face. She had seen the cold sneer on his lip when he turned to her like a piece of meat.
Hands banged against her door, summoning her from the dream. Teyla tried to wake up, but she had no power. Her body moved on it's own. As she walked past the mirror for a moment she thought she was still dreaming. Michael's face stared at her from the from the wall of her bathroom. When she opened the door, he spoke.
"I am sorry," he said in her voice. "I was asleep."
"Rodney and some doctor want you," Ronon grunted with a yawn of his own. "Been trying to get you on the radio."
Teyla tried to say something or do anything to fight the darkness inside of her. Michael's presence filled her like oil, slithering into all of her muscles. He grabbed her jacket from the hook on the wall.
"We shouldn't keep them waiting," Michael purred and slipped past Ronon into the hallway.
Ronon might have noticed the slight change in her speech if it had been later. Four hundred hours in Earth time was something everyone tried to avoid. He fell in step beside her, carrying on a conversation with Michael she couldn't bear to listen too.
Focusing her mind in a Herculean feat of strength, Teyla managed to take back her left foot just long enough to make her trip up the stairs in the hall.
Ronon's hand caught her before she fell more than a fraction of a meter. "Clumsy..." he teased with a toothy grin.
Michael smiled and licked her tongue across her lips. "I was making sure you were paying attention," he replied. Cringing as she shared his hunger, Teyla watched her friend's eyes soften with amusement.
The stranger next to Rodney must have been the doctor Ronon had mentioned. He wore a simple white coat over his Earth clothes and had unruly dark hair that fell just above his shoulders. He looked as exhausted and unkempt as Rodney. Neither man had shaved in over a day and stubble was dark on their faces.
"Teyla," Rodney called and waved her over. "Good, we need you." He motioned towards a bed.
The doctor was more polite. "I'm Simon, Doctor Wallace," he introduced himself and extended his hand. Pulling it back apologetically when Michael didn't take it, he smiled nervously. "Sorry, old habits..."
Instead of shaking his hand, Teyla felt her lips being forced into a smile. "It is of no consequence," Michael offered politely. "How may I help you Doctor Wallace?"
"Simon would be fine," he replied, running a nervous hand through slightly greasy hair. "We need your abilities. Captain Helia is dying, her EKG's fallen several points in the last few hours. Doctor McKay-"
"-There are things in her mind we need," Rodney interrupted anxiously. "Codes and secrets we may never be able to get our hands on again. I know it's a long shot, but you're the closest thing we have to a mind reader..."
"I have connected to the Wraith," Teyla heard her voice say. Michael's desire burned in her stomach. His hunger boiled up like a poisonous thing inside of her. "I have never attempted a human and certainly not an Ancestor."
"I think I can help you," Rodney explained with proud excitement. His eyes shone as he crossed to a table holding an Ancient device. "We found this in the medical storage bay. It seems to be some kind of..."
"...amplifier," Simon interjected before Rodney was able to jump into the technical details. "We believe it amplifies the natural abilities of a human mind. There's a slight danger."
"Yes, yes," Rodney started impatiently as he lifted the simple metal circlet. It was the same green as some of the walls of city and fairly harmless looking in his hands. "It's an untested piece of Ancient equipment, that's why you're here. You're a doctor."
"Helia doesn't have much time," Simon explained with a heaviness in his voice. He didn't understand everything. Just that the petite blonde woman on the bed by his left hand had been tortured in ways so horrible they had left her comatose and failing.
Michael's hunger surged within her like a living thing and for a moment Teyla lost herself in it. She wanted what he did. She needed to feed. "I will do what I can," she listened to herself agree.
"Great!" Rodney said as he turned his back. Calling up something complex on the computer terminal, his mind was already working when he looked at her again. "It should be simple, a numerical sequence, some kind of password..." his eyes flashed with hope. "Anything could be a clue."
Teyla heard leather rustle as Ronon took up his place at her side. Through everything the warmth of his hand on her shoulder was the one thing she knew Michael couldn't corrupt. It was Michael who lay her body down on the bed next to Helia and him who smiled up at Simon to reassure him. "I will be all right," he promised with her lips. "I survived contact with the Wraith, how much danger can there be in a single woman?"
Teyla felt the malice no one else could. The hunger blazed into a fire stronger than anything she had felt. It ran through her veins like acid, demanding what little life was left in the body across from her. She didn't know what was happening when Michael let them slip the circlet on her head.
It only took a moment for him to accomplish what had taken her hours of meditation. Helia's mind allowed him in as easily as if she had opened a door. In an instant, she felt like she was dreaming again. Helia stood before her. A pale figure in a circle of blackness that stared at her with exhausted eyes.
"What do you want?" Helia asked softly, her words sounding hollow in the void.
"We need the code for the city," Teyla said on her own. Somehow she was separate. In the transfer to Helia's mind she had become free of Michael and the sound of her voice now startled her.
Michael leapt from behind her, flying forward and knocking Helia to the black ground. The other woman didn't even jump. "Give it to us," Michael growled as he ran one fingernail down Helia's pale cheek.
The Ancient captain stared up at Teyla with an emptiness that froze the hunger she'd felt a moment ago. Teyla had seen that emptiness before in those who had watched worlds fall to the Wraith. Helia had no fight left.
Teyla tried to move. She could fight; she could give Michael everything she had and make him work for the life force he wanted. Her feet were rooted into the blackness. Her hands were locked to her sides as if they had been carved from stone. Her voice, it seemed, was all she had. "Don't Michael..." she pleaded.
Michael only looked up for a moment before he took the kill. He slammed his hand down on Helia's chest and fed. His victim only sighed before succumbing. Her hair faded to gray as her skin shriveled away. Helia's eyes went deader before going out but the only sound she made was a wistful sigh.
As the horrible scene finished before her, Michael stood. He lifted his hand and licked red blood from his flesh with a pale tongue. "Too easy..."
Teyla woke in the same nightmare. Michael's presence filled her like a disease, pervading every fiber of her being. He sat them up and made her watch as Simon pulled the blanket over Helia's sightless eyes. "Her command code..." he began to explain as Rodney typed it quickly into the computer. The swirling display of color flashed to pure white before growing still.
Rodney laughed; his excitement couldn't be contained by death. "That's it!" His eyes softened as he looked from Ronon to Simon. "We're in!" he explained quickly. "The computer is waiting for the council of three to input their command codes."
"The council?" Ronon asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and kept his eyes on her.
"Atlantis was ruled by a council of three before they left for Earth," Rodney explained as he tried something else in the computer. "The computer seems to be set up for input. Whatever Helia's code did, it reset everything. We should get Elizabeth down here..."
"It's early," Ronon interrupted. "She can play with your computer after breakfast."
"But..."
"You should let her sleep," Simon agreed with a slow nod of his head. "She could use some rest."
Rodney took a moment before nodding. "I guess it's not going anywhere," he conceded with one more longing look at the computer. "It's just...this is the last thing..." his hands pleaded along with his eyes, "...the last thing left locked, I mean if we get this, we'll have everything. Every system."
"You'll have it tomorrow," Carson interrupted authoritatively from the doorway. "It's oh-four-hundred. We all need sleep. Go on now, the lot of ye."
Ronon caught her shoulder and started to lead her back to her quarters. Teyla felt Michael envy the strength pulsing through Ronon's body. She felt the hunger rise again.
'I can't get him," Michael whispered to her. "Not yet."
Alone in the darkness of her mind, Teyla shuddered and tried to keep what was left of her separate from the growing cold of Michael's mind.
~*~*~*~*~
Back in the infirmary, Carson sank into a chair in front of his desk and listened to the footsteps leave him alone. Rodney had protested against leaving, but eventually even the determination keeping him awake lost to exhaustion. The scientist was curled on a spare bed, sleeping soundly. Only Simon remained, standing quietly over his shoulder.
"The amount of virus in her blood shouldn't be able to jump and fall like that," Simon said aloud what was troubling Carson. "It's not a natural profile, even with immune response."
"She doesn't have an immune response," Carson reminded his colleague as he drummed his fingers impatiently on the desk. "It's almost like there's an outside force...something that causes the severe spikes in the viral count."
Simon shrugged behind him and pulled a crate from the Odyssey over next to Carson. "Is there something in the city that keeps track of everything? Some kind of really advanced monitoring system?"
"Sensors," Carson replied quickly, wondering if it was that simple. "In a laboratory setting the virus responded to one of the upper wavelengths of infrared radiation...it's entirely possible..." he drifted off as he tried to remember how to check the internal sensors.
Giving up, he left his chair and grabbed Rodney's shoulder. "How do I check the radiation profile of the last few days?"
Rodney barely opened an eye and groaned. "Internal sensors, second column, third option," he explained without even sounding awake. "Select it twice and chose the weekly readout."
Simon nodded quickly from the keyboard. "He's right; I think I've got it."
Carson took over, checking the graph of the radiation against the viral profile that had been giving him so much trouble for the last few hours.
"Looks like a match," Simon announced with relief. He had no idea what kind of bizarre alien virus came and went with a radiation profile. He had even less of an idea how it would be generated by a growing fetus.
Carson seemed less confused. In fact, the other doctor had the faraway look Simon had come to count on. He let Carson think as he wondered if Elizabeth had known the mess that would come from carrying John Sheppard's child. How different would things have been if he had come when she asked? He was fairly certain no child of his would be filling her blood with an unknown virus.
"Sheppard said she has episodes that come and go," Carson started to think aloud. "He was rather vague, but it would seem to fit with the random increases in the amount of virus in her body." He paused and scratched the itch exhaustion had left on the back of his neck. "If we keep an eye on the radiation..."
"...we can watch her blood." Simon finished. He felt the air escape his chest in another sigh of relief. Maybe now they could finally help Elizabeth instead of just hoping and wishing she felt better.
"Maybe it is that simple," Carson hoped as he stared into the screen of his computer. "Something in the radiation is increasing the rate of mutation. Demanding her body adapt the new genes faster than her tissues can handle. At a normal rate it would take nearly two years to manipulate all of her DNA, but with his spikes..."
"...twenty eight more weeks," Simon concluded for him. "That's the time left before she delivers. If you run a projection, I'll bet you the last of the coffee it'll be twenty eight weeks before the virus runs its course."
Carson yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I think I'll be letting ye have the coffee," he promised and grinned sheepishly. "The computer agrees with you."
"So when she delivers?"
"She'll be infused with ATA," Carson sighed with an admiring shake of his head. "Most likely the same five instances as Sheppard."
"What does that mean?" Simon wondered, hoping his thoughts weren't entirely rhetorical. "Why encode that in a virus? How did someone even get it into her body in the first place?"
"If we knew that I could go to sleep..." Carson admitted with another yawn. "Come on, let's try and get a bit of a nap before we have to deal with the next crisis."
Simon dragged himself to his feet and followed the other man out of the infirmary. curling up on a bed like Rodney seemed more tempting than the walk back to his quarters, but Carson was good company. At least in his own quarters he could shower. That way the next crisis could at least find him with clean hair.
"You'll get used to it," Carson promised as he stopped in front of Simon's quarters. "The hours are terrible, there's no overtime, and it's rare that anyone notices what we do here."
"But we save lives," Simon replied. Wondering if the bed in his quarters could ever feel better than it was about too.
"Aye, that we do."