Adaptation2
John found himself being herded into the infirmary by an adamant Carson. After the debrief everyone had separated. Silent. Wrapped in their own thoughts. John had tried to head for the Jumper bay but Carson had headed him off and steered him to the medical center.
"I don't care what you say, John, obviously your back is bothering you and those scratches could be infected for all that I know! As you haven't exactly been forthcoming in what went on in that other Atlantis I can only assume you sustained some injury so get a move on!"
John sighed. "I told you! I'm fine. My back is sore but that's all! I didn't sleep very well last night, all right? Now lay off, doc!"
Carson guided him to a bed, unperturbed. "Sit. Let me take a look at your back to be sure." He waited. John sat on the bed. But didn't move. Stared back at him. Glowering. Carson folded his arms across his chest. Unintimidated. "I can stand here all day, colonel. The question is can you afford to sit here all day, because you're not moving an inch until I see for myself how your back is faring. Well?"
John swore. He yanked off his shirt. Winced at the pain skittering along the deep gashes marring his back. "Happy now?" he snapped. Snarled.
"Oh, I'm ecstatic," Carson dryly observed. Shook his head. "Turn."
John grimaced as the doctor poked and prodded. Moira's touch had been gentler. Her fingers massaging his sore muscles. Her hair tickling against his skin. Her lips teasingly running along his shoulder. He shook the memories aside. "What?"
"I said the scars are healing fine. I see no signs of infection but there will be some tightness. Some stiffness as the muscles heal and the skin realigns. Put your shirt on, colonel. Other than that I see no cause for alarm. You need to take it easy, John. I can give you some pills for the pain, and to help you sleep."
John pulled on his navy blue t-shirt. Ran a hand through his mussed hair. "I am. Taking it easy, that is. Now."
"Are you? Your muscles are strained, sore. No doubt from your escape from that alternate reality, yes? You need to avoid any strenuous activity. Any vigorous physical exertions."
John scowled. "Not really a problem any more, doc," he grumbled. Looked up to see Carson staring at him. "Pills?"
"Here." Carson thrust a bottle into his hand. "John, what happened? To you. To Moira. Don't tell me, Moira was seeing Rodney instead of you?"
John smiled, but it faded. "No. She...she wasn't seeing anyone." He glanced round. The infirmary was deserted. Quiet. "She was...she was dead, Carson. Their Moira, I mean. And Lorne too. They never escaped the Wraith queen's genetic experimentation. She died from the torture...in...in his arms." John's words spilled out of him, needing release. "In his arms after..." He couldn't say it. Wouldn't say it. How that alternate colonel had killed her. That would remain between Moira and himself. As much as he wanted to believe he wasn't capable of that, as much as she believed he wasn't still he wondered. A dark corner of his mind pondered it. "Anyway, it threw me. And her. Moira, I mean. Their version of me wasn't too nice. But Moira said he didn't hurt her. But he wanted to keep her there. Keep her for himself, another chance, another Moira. But she didn't belong there, Carson! And the worst part, the worst part is she, she wanted to stay. Well, part of her did. Because of what he had gone through. Because she felt an affinity with him that I can't for the life of me even begin to understand. It was me, but it wasn't me, you know! He killed her, for God's sake! How could she even feel compassion for him, feel the need to, to comfort him, to, to..." His words trailed off into uncomfortable silence.
Carson was staring, horrified. All mirth gone. "She...she died. Our Moira died...in your arms."
John met his gaze, saw the sorrow, the sympathy. "No. She died. In his. Not our Moira. Not mine. Not..." He looked at his hands.
"Not yours? John...you didn't...John...no. No! Don't be such a prat!"
"What?" John's gaze shot up at the angry tone. All sympathy gone from Carson's blue eyes.
"You idiot! Are you that blind, man, that you cannot see? Whatever Moira did in that other reality was for you! Don't you see that? Everything she did was for you, John! You! If it had been any other man do you really think she would be so sympathetic, so torn by leaving, so upset at what he had endured? Because it was you, John! A version of you, and one that you may not like, perhaps she didn't even like, but still you! Everything she did, whatever she did, was out of love for you, you stupid man! And if you're telling me you are going to throw that all away then you are a fool!"
"Carson! You don't understand!" John argued. Embarrassed. Upset. Angry.
"No, I don't, you have the right of that! How could you ever blame her when she would do anything for you? Even for this darker version of you? Don't you see?"
John stood. "No. No, I don't. Forget I said anything, all right? Damn it, Carson, you don't–"
"Oh, I do, John. Understand. What a complete and utter prat you are being over this! Don't you break her heart over this, do you hear me? Don't you dare! Now get out of my infirmary and think about this! Really think about what Moira endured, for your sake, John! Yours!"
************************************************************************
Moira finished her lunch. Not tasting the food as her thoughts flitted. Emotions fluttered. Hours had passed. She had tried to work. Couldn't concentrate. The city was closing in on her. Cloying. Restless she stood, headed for the Jumper bay. Had to get away, get out as the walls were pressing on her. The memories shadowing her every thought, every feeling.
She neared the battered Jumper. Technicians were swarming over it. Pieces lay scattered on the ground. John and Rodney were on the ramp, examining the crystals as panels were flung wide. Avoiding them she spotted Evan standing near a drive pod. A welder's torch sparking in his hand. She waited until he was done. Neared. "Evan?"
He lifted the protective visor. Smiled. Removed the helmet and set the torch aside. "Moira."
"I need to steal you for a few hours. Okay?"
"Oh? Why?" Evan asked. He pulled off the protective gloves. Moved towards her as she stood awkwardly. Obviously uncomfortable. He sighed. "Let me guess. Vampire rabbits again?" he asked, both to lighten her mood and give her the excuse she so desperately needed.
"Yes, yes!" she agreed, grateful. "Bingo! Evan, can you–"
"Bingo?" he wondered.
"–accompany me to the mainland to look for more examples of an anomalous lagomorph exhibiting extreme dental adaptations?" she asked, words flowing rapidly. "I need to get out of the city for, for awhile and you could fly me to the mainland, right? Right?" She glanced at John and Rodney. John was watching her, expression unreadable. She looked back to Evan. "And, and a field study would help me get back to normal, okay? Evan, you don't mind, do you?"
"Of course not, Moira," he soothed. "I..." He glanced at John. "Sir?"
John nodded. "Go. Take Jumper three. Just get back well before dark, major."
"Yes, sir." He met Moira's anxious gaze. "We have a go. Just dial down the scientific mumbo-jumbo, will you?"
She smiled, relieved. "I'll try, but I can't promise anything."
After an hour of crouching, watching, following rabbits across several fields Moira straightened. Sighed. "Nothing. At least not the rabbits we're looking for. Let's walk awhile, Evan."
"Sounds good to me, Moira." He stretched his back. Strolled next to her. The sun was beginning to set, a glorious expanse of orange and cherry as it began its dive into the roiling waters of the ocean. The city gleamed purple in the streams of color streaking towards it. "So, you're thinking that two are not just an anomaly. Perhaps indicative of a breeding population? And the fangs are an adaptation to some kind of grass out here? Moira?" He saw her flinch.
"Yes, a, a breeding..." she paused, voice catching on the word. "A breeding population which would pass on the trait to the, the offspring..." She hesitated. "Sorry. I can't believe we, we were gone three whole days. In that other Atlantis."
"Major Lorne?" John's voice sounded in Evan's ear.
Evan sighed. Gestured for Moira to stop. He tapped his earpiece. "Sir, copy, sir."
"How's your ETA?"
"We'll be heading back in twenty, sir. Plenty of time before dark."
"Very good, major. Just checking. Happy hunting."
"Yes, sir. Lorne out." He tapped the earpiece off. Caught up to Moira who had resumed wandering across another field. "Hey, hold on."
"Sorry. Who was that?"
"Seriously? Lover boy, checking in on you," Evan remarked. "But don't tell him I said that or he will shoot me for sure. He seems awfully protective of you, Moira. What happened to you? Did something happen to you in that parallel reality? Hey, he didn't bring back the wrong Moira, did he?" he asked, but his amusement faltered as she turned to him.
"No. That wasn't possible." Moira studied the grasses swaying around them. "She, she was dead, Evan. So were you. Him...I mean, their Evan. They never escaped the Wraith queen. They died there. After, after months of torture and experimentation to implement the breeding program. The ATA gene." She hugged herself as a chill swept through her. "It was horrible, Evan! Their Atlantis was all military! McKay was there, thank goodness, and essentially the same. He helped us get back here. And, and Beckett was, was a complete opposite of our Carson! Scarily so. Blamed me, hated me for that, that breeding program. Those Wraith were unstoppable. Their Atlantis was at war. All of the time. And, and John...John wasn't John...not really. Not the one we know but a different...but he still was John Sheppard! And John won't see that! He won't see that it was him, and that one needed me more than he ever will...but I guess it doesn't matter now anyway so, so..." She blinked back tears. Forced the emotions aside. "I'm sorry! I...I had to tell someone. The truth. Of that horrible Atlantis. Evan?"
Evan was staring at her. Aghast. Appalled. "You...you died? I died? We never escaped? You..." His consternation was palpable.
Moira moved to him, touched his arm. "She died. He died. Not me. Not you. We escaped, Evan. We were stronger. We survived."
"Thank goodness," he murmured. "Wow. I...I never imagined any of...that explains the hugs."
"The hugs? Oh, yes. Sorry. When I saw you here...I..."
He hugged her suddenly. "Moira! It's all right. I can't even imagine what you endured in that place! An Atlantis like that...and everyone so different, except for McKay. And your other self dead...and me...and...you say Colonel Sheppard was there? In charge, but different too?"
Moira nodded. Pulled back to see his troubled blue eyes. "Yes. Different. But the same. Not the same. It's so complicated, Evan!"
"And that's why you had to escape, isn't it?" he guessed. "Because that Sheppard wanted you to stay. Of course he did. And ours, ours wouldn't allow that, right? Moira? What am I missing here?"
"Nothing." She colored, began to walk again. "You've got it, Evan. That, that Sheppard wanted me to stay. To replace his version of me. But I couldn't. I should have, but I–"
"Should have? Hell no, Moira!" He caught her arm, stopping her. "Why on earth would you want to stay there? I mean I'm sure you felt sympathy for him, since he was Sheppard and all, but not yours, Moira. You belong here. With us. With our Sheppard. Right? Moira?"
She nodded. "Yes...I know. I mean I can't help but feel guilty, but I know." She sighed. "I'm just glad it's over, is all."
"Is it? Over? Did something else happen? Moira...don't tell me that Colonel Sheppard is blaming you for that. Are you kidding me? Are you–"
"No! There's more, but I can't tell you. And, and John...it's been as difficult for him, Evan. To see this dark version of yourself. You, but not you. So don't say anything, please! Evan!"
"All right. I guess." Reluctance.
"Thank you. Let's get back. We can do a full survey later." She began to stride the other way, towards where the Jumper was parked. Finding herself alone she turned. "Evan? I'm fine, really. You were right, I needed to talk about it. But I'm fine now. Please, Evan."
"Sorry." He moved to her, shaking his head. "That was quite a bombshell, Moira. No wonder neither of you wanted to discuss that in the debrief. Let's go. It's getting dark."
Moira took his arm. "Yes. And we don't want lover boy calling, do we?" she tried to lighten his mood, but found her own souring.
*************************************************************************
John was pacing. Couldn't help it. Couldn't stop himself. He raised his hand yet again to his earpiece, lowered it. Ignored Rodney's exasperated expression at being abandoned yet again in the middle of the repairs. Finally a ship lowered into the bay. Smoothly landed. John moved to it as the hatch opened. The ramp lowering. Folded his arms across his chest. Irritated. His gaze narrowed. Brows knitted together. He heard Rodney swear, drop a tool. Heard him emerge from the damaged ship and head towards him. Heard Carson walking over as well, calling him.
Ignored it all as Evan stepped down the ramp.
Evan paused, resumed. Seeing his superior's stern expression. Disapproval. Anger. The revelations Moira had dropped on him still spinning in his mind. "Sir?"
"Before nightfall, major," John chastised. Voice clipped. "Not at nightfall. Wasn't I clear?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
The startled sympathy in Evan's eyes gave John a start. The tightness in his chest eased as he heard Moira, then saw her emerge from the darkness of the ship.
"It wasn't his fault," Moira argued. She stepped quickly after Evan. "We were heading back but I spotted what looked like a pygmy version of Megantereon cultridens which is impossible because firstly they weren't small cats but the size of leopards and secondly because the Megantereons went extinct about ten thousand years ago. Which either means there are more megafauna in this galaxy than we previously thought apart from that found on Pleistocene Park, or that there is an indigenous species that evolved independently of the...the...the..." Moira's rush of words, of rising enthusiasm faltered, withered under all of the men. All of them staring at her with naked emotion on their faces. All but Rodney.
She glanced briefly at John. Usually he would stop her rambling words with an interruption. Sometimes with a passionate kiss. But now he seemed indifferent. Staring at her, expression unreadable. Except for the chagrin, the discomfort. She felt the loss of his support, his interest and she swallowed back a wave of despair. Of denial. "Rodney?" she asked.
"What? You tell me, Moira. I have no idea why they, um...John?" Rodney eyed the men, as puzzled as she was.
"You died. Moira, you died...in his arms. I can't even imagine..." Carson stuttered. A glimmer of tears in his blue eyes.
"You died in his arms?" Evan asked. He glanced at John in surprise. Sympathy.
"You died? In the parallel reality you died? You?" Rodney asked, surprised. "Why didn't anyone tell me that?" he demanded, hating to be out of the loop.
Moira looked from their disbelief, their sorrow to John's uncomfortable expression. Felt she was drowning under it, the darkness swallowing her yet again. She felt tears but forced them back, said softly. "Not me. Her."
"A version of you, then, but still...how?" Rodney asked, glancing at John.
"The Wraith experiments," Carson answered. "Evan too."
"Lorne too?" Rodney asked, glancing at the major.
"Not him. Not me," she tried to sideline, to create a distance between their fates and hers. Whispers of the memory in her mind. That city at war. That dark colonel. That tormented version of John. She forced the images out of her mind.
John could see the struggle, the sorrow in her brown eyes. It was like a beacon to him and he started to move to her. Unable to resist. Despite whatever was happening or not happening between them now her misery drew him like a magnet.
"All right," Moira decided, eying each one. "that's enough! It wasn't me! It wasn't Evan! Look, all of you, meet me in the bio lab in say, ten minutes. Okay? Ten minutes and I'll meet you there so we can, um, debrief. Okay? Please."
"The bio lab? Why?" asked Carson.
"Just meet me there, all of you, please. John?" she asked, turning as he reached her. Stood near her, green eyes wandering over her before meeting her tense gaze.
"You heard Moira. The bio lab. In ten," he enforced.
As the rest departed, muttering among themselves Moira touched John's arm. An almost timid gesture. "You too, John. Please."
"Moira, I...I'm sorry. It just sort of, um, leaked out...I didn't mean to–"
"It's all right, John. It happened to me too. Clearly we need to discuss this. All of us, I mean, I mean, I..."
"Moira, look, um, we...that is...I..." he began awkwardly, but she interrupted.
"No. Not now, John. Go. I'll be right behind you. That will be a nice change."
He smiled briefly. "Not so nice for me, though. All right, doctor, I'm going." He headed away from her, glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, O'Meara! Stop eying my ass."
She briefly smiled. "Sorry, Sheppard. Get it moving then."
"As ordered, Moira," he called over his shoulder. Glanced at her yet again but she was heading in the other direction. All mirth gone. He stopped. Stared after her. A woman crossed into his view and he watched her. Recognized her. They had had a brief fling months ago, before he had met Moira. He briefly considered resuming the sex, if not the relationship, but frowned. It had been a clean break, like all of the others. Unlike this messy break with Moira. If that was what it was. John still wasn't sure, still hovered on the brink of a decision.
With a heavy sigh he trudged to the bio lab, wondering what Moira intended to do.