In Truth Freedom

by Eirian1

Teyla participates in a potentially deadly meditation to unlock her memory. Will she discover the truth is a key to freedom – and will she still hear a desperate cry for help? Virtual Season 5 Episode 5

4. Act 4

Act 4

He sat with his knees drawn up and his head back against the wall. His eyes were closed, as though he was sleeping.

Sleeping… Vega sighed, bone weary herself, the thought of sleep was appealing, but she dare not return to her own quarters, to rest, until she had some answers and loathe as she was to get involved with anything to do with him – he was the one most likely to give her those answers, but Michael was unpredictable at best.

The drone guard keyed the switch to open the door, carried in the pitcher of steaming hot water and set it on the shelf just inside the cell, before standing aside to allow her to enter.

Vega carried in her own supplies – salves and antiseptics that she had not, in defiance of the Queen's orders, brought with her the last time. Throughout all the movement, Michael gave no sign of awareness.

She set down the tray beside the pitcher and cautiously lowered herself to sit on the side of the cot, before spreading a towel of sorts across her lap.

"I thought you said you would not return."

She managed not to jump too much as Michael spoke. His voice was dull, lifeless, almost broken, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy in spite of everything she'd suffered at his hands, and since, because of him.

"Yeah, well," she said softly, "I changed my mind. Woman's prerogative, you know."

"You want something," he correctly surmised.

"Only to talk," she said.

He offered no resistance as she took hold of his wrist and drew his hand away from where he cradled it against his chest defensively.

"I'll try not to hurt you," she told him.

Michael's limp frame suddenly began to shake with laughter. There was no humour in it. It was tired, a little lost and the quality of it soon changed, the shaking became harder, the sound more breathy. It took her a moment to realise his distress.

"Michael—" she started.

"I thought it beyond the Lanteans to show anything other than loathing for the thing they created, and yet, here you are, moved to sympathy in our mutual abandonment." His voice was thick with emotion and heavy with sarcasm.

"Yeah?" Belying the mirrored sarcasm in her words, she very carefully began to unwrap the bindings from his fingers. "Well, what can I say? I never could stand to see a grown man cry."

He hissed in pain as she revealed the swollen fingers. She bit back the apology that automatically came to her lips.

"You're forgetting one thing though," she added, watching his face and his still closed eyes. "All that was before my time. What they did to you—"

"Answer me this then." He finally turned his head and opened his eyes. She couldn't help wincing, cringing at the bloodied mess in his left eye. He took no notice of her empathetic reaction. "If you and I had met under any other circumstances than these, you would have shown me mercy? Sympathy? Tried to understand my plight?"

Finally she had unwrapped his fingers and reached for the bowl from the tray she had carried that contained the iced water. "This is going to hurt. I'm sorry."

"You must reduce the swelling," he said dispassionately. "I understand."

Even so he failed to keep the small moan of pain inside as she slowly lowered his hand into the water.

"You haven't answered my question," he said, when he had caught his breath.

"To be honest, I'm not sure, because I don't really know that much about it," she said, worrying over the way what little colour he had had drained away from his face.

"I am certain it's well documented in Atlantis' database," he told her, sounding as if he couldn't bear to go through it again. "I know that each time I have been there I…" he trailed off with a sigh.

"Keep your hand in the water," she told him. "Let me see if I can do something about that eye,"

"There is nothing you can do," he told her. "The one you serve as master—"

"Todd did this?"

Michael began to laugh again, bitterly.

"What's funny?" She frowned at him.

"Under the circumstances, I should count myself lucky to have been given the name Michael." He sighed, composing himself to the same blank exhaustion. "What is it that you want?"

"You… said this was once your Hive," she told him, feeling that it was time to be candid. "I need to… understand it; to know my place; to know what things mean."

"Your place is to serve. I would have thought that obvious."

"No, that much I know, just—"

"What are you really asking, Captain Vega?"

"Why warn me?"

"I warned you of something?"

"Don't start the mind games again, Michael," she said. "You know you did. You warned me that Hanna would somehow—"

"Hanna?"

"The Queen's other handmaiden," she said. "You warned me that she'd somehow get me sent to the Hive Commander and—"

"Yet again you think in one dimension." Michael sighed. "My warning, my… demonstration was of the danger the Queen poses to you. How she can take the very thoughts from your mind – even those you do not realise you had…"

"Do you think that because you are both her handmaidens… both used… abused… that you can trust her; that she is your friend – someone whom you should not hate?"

-hate- -hate- -hate-

The word echoed softly in her mind as she saw a mental image of Hanna's face.

"Do you believe that just because she is your fellow handmaiden, both beleaguered in service to the Queen, that you should not try to rise above her; usurp her position with the Hive Commander?"

-with the Hive Commander- -the Hive Commander- -Hive Commander-

"Do you think she would not do the same; take your precious scientist from you; approach the Queen to suggest… go to him?"

-approach the Queen- -the Queen- -Queen-

-Go to him- -to him- -him-

Words and visions continued to echo around in confusion inside her head, and she barely heard the words he was speaking.

"…and use it to serve her purpose."

"It was you!" She looked at him in horror. "You planted the suggestion in my mind. You—"

"I did," he said.

"Because of you, I—"

"No," he snapped. "Because of you, because you are incapable of shutting out the Queen, and she more than likely already knows everything you want to keep from her."

She stopped and, as she looked at him and realised he was telling the truth, her anger faded.

"What does she want?" she asked suddenly. The question that was weighing her down, frightening her, suddenly burst out of her far less casually than she had intended.

Michael let out a throaty little half chuckle. "Now we come to it."

"Well, do you blame me?" she asked emotionally. "You said this was your Hive. You've probably known her longer than anyone else here. Why the hell does she keep us around? Okay, we pamper her, fetch and carry, but half the time she pushes us into the arms of her commanders who are just as likely to kill us as… anything else." She swallowed hard at the look he gave her; somewhere between wry amusement and, she thought, sorrowful recollection. "She obviously wants something from you because like you said, if she didn't you'd already be dead, but… Vain as she is, I find it hard to believe she just… keeps us around for the mere… indulgence of having on demand comfort. Hedonistic she might be, but she's not that vacuous."

"To understand that," he answered darkly, "you must first understand the evolution of the Wraith."

**

The Hive Commander did not need the nudge he felt from the ship's internal sensors to inform him of the human woman's presence on his bridge.

He looked up, half expecting to see the scientist from the allied Hive with his little plaything in tow. Instead he saw the one sent to him by his Queen in reward for his successes with the Abomination. She stood just inside the door, hands folded in front of her, her eyes downcast; obedient and obviously waiting to speak with him.

He relinquished the control station to the Hive Sub-commander and went to take her roughly by the arm and remove her to a place where they could speak with relative privacy. She knew better than to speak to him until he had.

He brought her a little way into the corridor before he barked, "Speak."

"You wished to know of the other's movements; anything unusual." she said demurely.

"What has she done?" he snarled.

"She did not return from the scientist's laboratory immediately, and when she did leave, she went instead to the Renegade's cell," she told him.

"Find out why," he ordered. "I do not trust her. I do not trust either of them."

**

With the light dimmed on all but the area in which he worked, Todd's concentration was absolute. The information he had forced out of the Abomination had provided him with an avenue to explore that might prove to be the solution to the cessation of the transformation at the required point in the progress of the retrovirus.

Of course, moving the remnant insect DNA to an inert section of the sequence was a delicate manipulation, much less encouraging the nucleotide bonds to hold in the newly reformed DNA. Then to splice the entire sequence into the most virulent part of the viral DNA – he could not help but feel a degree of admiration for the Abomination at already having successfully performed such genetic science with what must at first have been limited facilities.

He was concerned, however. Wraith DNA, by its very nature, was tenacious and part of that persistence was due to the Iratus DNA, the very heart of which he was attempting to suppress. He sensed he had little time in which to complete the work, and even less in which to test it. He worried that all he would be left with would be another monumental failure.

He completed the first stage of the manipulation and sat back on his stool, breathing out a long, slow sigh. Supposing he was successful – what then? What purpose did the redemption of an individual among such a collective serve? What were the Queen's intentions?

There was little doubt in his mind that this exquisitely beautiful, deadly creature he'd come to serve was an Elder among Wraith Queens, but could she truly be one of The Four, as the Abomination had implied?

Wraith folklore named those Queens long gone, lost to internal treachery during the war with the Ancients of Atlantis, by ungrateful descendants, who saw only threat from their primal progenitors. Why had Wraith attempted to destroy those that had brought them life?

Another thought occurred to him. He had no notion of whence it came, or why in that moment he should begin to wonder on it, but it was a thought that profoundly disturbed him. He could not afford the distraction this concubine had become, and yet, with this new line of reasoning, neither could he afford not to follow the thought to its conclusion. Leaving the computer to work on the simulation following the initial stages of manipulation of the retrovirus, he reached for the vial of Vega's blood he had in stasis, and began to run an exhaustive genetic analysis, which he could then compare with that of Wraith.

**

"Approach," she said, almost softly. Her mood was calm, at peace almost, and a great anticipation had lodged in her heart.

As he came closer, as the light fell on his features, still blackened and bruised from the persuasive correction he had forced on himself, a frown crossed her face and she turned her head Vega's way.

The handmaiden looked terrified and backed away as the Queen rose.

"My Queen…" The Renegade's voice was soft, reverent and, her anger diverted in those welcome and familiar tones, she allowed herself to be distracted.

"Speak," she instructed.

"Do not chastise your handmaiden for failure to carry out your wishes. She tended me well," he said, "but your scientist took it on himself to… punish me for his inability to achieve your wishes."

She descended the steps slowly, one at a time, and as she reached the last one, though she did not need to, she took his offered hand to steady herself.

Another thrill went through her at the gesture that, even with the pain of his injured shoulder, he still offered to her that safety.

"Such selflessness," she said.

=selflessness= =selflessness= =selflessness=

"For your Hive, my Queen,"

-my Queen- -my Queen- -my Queen-

She chuckled lightly and released her hand from his as she invited him to rise.

He did, slowly, though he kept his eyes downcast.

"So, you have admitted your errors and come to me in true contrition," she said and brushed her fingertips across the back of his neck. If it were a lie, by this, she would know; knew of old his true reaction to such a gesture. Such a thing could not be faked, as words or the semblance of submission could be pretended.

"I was a fool, my Queen," he said, gasping softly as he shivered under her touch, "who did not know his own heart."

She tilted her head, entering lightly into communion with him and drinking contentedly of his desire.

**

"You are in need of greater healing than my handmaiden can provide."

Michael took a deep breath and swallowed as the Queen came to stand in front of him again. He caught the wrist of her right hand as she reached toward his chest.

"I deserve to suffer, my Queen," he told her sorrowfully, "for the wrong I have done to you."

"Valiant," she purred and lowered her hand.

Michael let out the breath he had been holding, and closed his eyes in tired resignation.

"You know what it is I ask of you?" she said.

"I have always known," he said softly.

This time he did not resist her touch as the palm of her hand ran over his chest. His heart pounded beneath her touch.

"And yet you allowed me to believe that you did not," she said.

"Not you, my Queen," he said, his voice shaking. "Others of our Hive would never understand."

"And you are… willing?"

"My Queen, I have—" he began, but stopped as he felt the flush of anger and hatred from behind him.

"What is it?" the Queen snapped, and the Hive Commander, on her invitation, marched to the chamber's centre and nodded to her curtly.

Michael tensed. Whatever message the Hive Commander brought was ill timed. He had been moments from the execution of his plan. All of his pain, his suffering and striving were pointless without it.

"My Queen," The Hive Commander said, "I thought you would want to know – we have located the human woman you seek, and I have adjusted the course of the Hive to bring us there directly."

Michael's eyes narrowed and his stomach twisted in the worst moment of apprehension that he had ever felt. Incautiously he reached out mentally, pushing the inquiry into the Queen's mind and ripping away the answer he feared.

The presence of another consciousness, not Wraith, but revered as a companion… perhaps even equal to the devotion for a Queen, assaulted her as she reached for him… searched for him amid the minds present in the battle her subordinates fought.

She followed the feeling of the undeniably female mind… pushing through the layers of protection with which he had surrounded her, weakened by her curiosity, and finding her, wrapped her in a crushing grasp.

She was human… but with a mind, and strength that could have belonged to a Wraith… diminutive, with brown hair, brown eyes… her lustrous skin of burnished gold. She was exquisite… beautiful…

"No!" he roared, and ignoring the blinding flash of pain, he lashed out at the Queen, catching a crushing blow against her throat. She fell away, gasping for air.

Instinctively he turned full circle, dropping into a crouch and sweeping his foot to catch the Hive Commander's ankle, taking it out from under him.

As the Commander went down, Michael did not miss that he had drawn a barbed and jagged blade from the sheath at his waist, nor the fact that the Hive Commander had rolled away, putting distance between them so that he could stand.

The chamber flooded with the deep red of the Queen's fury, so dark that it was almost impossible to see more than sickeningly swirling shadows that were magnified to twice their height. But for the protective outrage, equal in intensity to that of the Queen's, Michael could have been confused by it, lost in it, but his anger kept him focussed. It sharpened his senses and gave him greater strength to bear the concussive pain that travelled down his arm into his broken fingers as he blocked the Hive Commander's knife attack with his forearm.

**

Pulled by the desperate grasp Hanna had on her arm, Vega was rushed to the Queen's side. The Queen still had not risen, still struggled for breath and Vega could already see the blackening bruise and the swelling that was constricting her airway.

"Help me move her away from the steps," she said to Hanna, "We have to get her flat. We—"

"My Queen," Hanna half whispered, almost wept, her voice urgent, "please…"

The Queen turned her head to look in Hanna's direction and then, to Vega's horror, suddenly thrust her feeding hand against Hanna's chest and started to feed.

Vega recoiled, her stomach clenching and a cold sweat beaded on her forehead as she watched Hanna aging before her eyes as she willingly allowed the Queen to feed, to heal herself.

The Queen did not feed for long, however, and Hanna fell backwards to lie gasping like a grounded fish while the Queen rose, wildly furious. In the half-light she appeared as some primal goddess of vengeance. Almost before the Queen found her feet she flew across the chamber toward where Michael and the Hive Commander still battled.

**

Against a healthy Wraith, buoyed by the strength of his rage, Michael managed, barely, to old his own, but as he felt the renewed and crushing presence of the Queen, he knew that his luck had all but expired.

By what little chance remained, he felt the Queen's first strike against him before it connected and ducked under the wide swing. The Hive Commander was not so lucky. The blades on her fingers struck him across his cheek, sending him reeling backwards.

Michael used the confusion to try and spin aside, through he knew he had no place to go. He was under no illusion. It was likely he would die there.

**

It resembled some kind of macabre dance. The two Wraith and the hybrid twisting around each other, striking and defending.

Vega couldn't begin to imagine the pain Michael must have been in, trying to fight with a dislocated shoulder and broken fingers, not to mention the other injuries. Even as she watched him with reluctantly growing admiration, she saw he was slowing; struggling more and more with each block he made, each blow.

Finally, unbalanced, he stumbled to one knee. Before he could rise, the Hive Commander moved behind him, grabbed him by the hair and brought his knife to press against his throat.

"Stop!"

=stop= =stop= =stop=

All movement in the Queen's chamber ceased.

Very slowly, after what seemed an age, after casting a long and evil glare over the Hive Commander and Michael, the Queen stalked towards them.

"You lied to me!" Her voice trembled and, for a moment, Vega felt that she was truly hurt. "All this time—"

"No," Michael gasped, "every word I have spoken to you is the truth. I have always known of your plans, even when you tried to keep them from me; when even my loyalty meant so little to you, far less, it seems, than now."

"You—" The Hive Commander pulled on Michael's hair and tightened his grip on the knife he held pressed to his throat, but the Queen raised her hand, stopping him from pressing the blade any closer.

She laughed coldly for a moment, "Oh, so clever," she said, reaching out to caress Michael's upturned face.

"I know that I will die here," he told her, equally as cold and unyielding to her caress, but Vega's attention was caught by movement in the doorway behind the trio.

"So certain of it?" the Queen said, sarcastically.

"When I die," Michael answered, his voice the embodiment of pure hatred, "it will be in the knowledge that this Hive, you and all of your alliances die with me!"

"I would not be too certain… if I were you," she said, and with a wave of her hand, summoned Todd forward.

"You sent for me, my Queen," Todd asked, coming to her side.

"The time for experimentation is over," she snapped. "You will administer your retrovirus to him now."

"My Queen," Todd looked profoundly uncomfortable as he addressed her, "the latest formula is untested, I cannot guarantee—"

"Never mind your guarantees," she snarled, turning in Todd's direction so quickly that he flinched and took a step back.

Vega gasped, her heart and stomach changed places as she worried what the Queen would do to him, but he had already abased himself, dropping to one knee and bowing his head, and it seemed to halt her ire.

"It will take a while to decant, my Queen," he said.

"Send for me when you are ready to proceed." She turned again to the Hive Commander, who had relinquished the struggling Michael into the hands of two drone guards. "Inform me when we have achieved a stable orbit of the world where I may find this… pretender to my throne. In the meantime, heal yourself, and then see to the restoration of your concubine." Then, she rounded on Vega, who was trembling in relief of the reprieve Todd had won for himself. "You – attend me!"

Vega glanced at Todd, who met her eyes and gave a slight nod of encouragement. As Vega moved to her side, the drone guards dragged the still struggling hybrid from the chamber, and the Hive Commander came to take the weakened handmaiden by the arm and all but pull her out of the Queen's presence.

**

Sheppard whistled to get the attention of the many teams in the Gate room. As it fell silent he took a deep breath and began the mission briefing.

"We know we're heading into a hostile territory. We know the Wraith are there – they landed their Hive and they have our people. The second we can dial the Gate, get a stable lock, we send through the stun pulse grenades. We follow them through firing. The grenades will only take out the few Wraith in close proximity to the Gate and there will be others nearby." he said. He took a look at the team leaders. They were not green by any stretch of the imagination. Many had been in the Pegasus galaxy for years, but he suspected that few of them had been anywhere close to a Wraith Hive ship before. "Doctors McKay and Zelenka will be accompanying Alpha and Charlie teams aboard the Hive to guide us to our people; deal with any technology we might encounter. The rest of you, your job will be to keep the Wraith off our tails, keep the way out, open… and keep the Gate from falling back into Wraith hands. If we don't manage even one of those things, we're screwed."

He looked around, taking a moment to try and meet the eyes of every marine and team member. "I won't pretend this is not going to be dangerous, that maybe some of us won't make it back in one piece, but I promise you this," he took a breath. "No one is left behind. It's why we're going out there after all, to get our people back. With a little vigilance, we can make sure we don't need a repeat performance."

"Colonel Sheppard, we have a positive signal. We're dialling!" Even as Banks spoke, the lights on the Gate began to fall into place, dialling the address, and giving them a way out to get their people.

**

The rattle of the P90 in her hands was jarring. After so long Teyla felt she had become unaccustomed to it. The fact did little to affect her aim or efficiency, however, as, one after another, her Wraith targets fell under the onslaught.

A wave of unexpected dizziness swept over her and she was forced to take shelter behind the trunk of a tree, breathing hard until she could force it to pass. It was nothing tangible, but a terrible feeling lodged in her belly and refused to be shifted.

Quickly she keyed her headset, "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla, please respond."

"Go ahead," he said over the sound of gunfire and Wraith blaster alike.

"I know we did not expect surprise to be on our side, but they are aware of us; of our purpose. They are expecting us," she said.

"Understood," he answered, "fall back to the Gate. I'll call for you if—"

=you cannot hide= =hide= =hide=

"Negative, Colonel," she said, gasping softly in the hope that he would not hear. "I am coming with you."

"Teyla?"

"This Hive may not be the only one we encounter today," she said. "We must hurry."

**

"Easy." Ronon crouched and pushed his hand against the marine's shoulder as the man woke. "Try not to move too much, you'll probably feel rough for a while."

"Where're Fernandez and Bishop?" the marine asked, taking Ronon's advice and doing little more than look around for the women.

"They took them," Ronon answered, frowning, "Harrow as well,"

"They separated the men and women?" the marine, Captain Osborne, started to sit up. "That's not like the Wraith. I'm surprised they don't have us all in their cosy little cocoons, keeping us nice and fresh, ready for when they feel like a midnight snack."

Ronon growled in agreement, then added, "There's something going on here."

"Any way we can get out of here?" Osborne started to get up, and Ronon steadied him until he could stand by himself.

He looked around again in spite of the fact that he'd already searched their cell from top to bottom, not once, but several times, and shook his head sadly. "Seems like someone's tipped these guys off about me. They searched me pretty well."

"Why a holding cell?" Osborne asked quietly, as the others also started coming round. "Don't they normally store humans in those… pod things?"

"Another reason that I'm sure there's something going on," Ronon confirmed, "Unless they're so full that—"

He stopped when Osborne gave him a sour look. "They'll come, right?"

"Sheppard and the others? Yeah, they'll come." Ronon said, and began to help the other waking marines.

**

It had been a long fight even to get close to the Hive. Sheppard began to feel it would have been wiser to have used the Jumpers, but even cloaked, there was no guarantee of safety. With the conflicts between humans and Wraith escalating – and the fact that Intel suggested that the Elder Hive was looking for Atlantis – it was only a matter of time before the versatile crafts would have to be used to ensure the safety of the city.

Turning slightly, he signalled to the members of his team. There were two Wraith warriors, guarding the entrance to the Hive. They would circle around to the flanks before approaching the ship, keeping them out of the view of the Wraith for as long as they could. Charlie and Delta teams would be reaching their positions at the opposite side of the Hive, ready to confuse the issue even more. All that remained was Bravo – in essence a key component in the planned strike against the Hive, because Teyla would attack from within.

They had formulated their plan as they regrouped in the small wood a couple of clicks to the west. It had been a heated discussion, but in the end he had been unable to argue. It did not change that he had a very bad feeling about the execution of the plan.

"Teyla, I don't like it. It's dangerous – reckless," Sheppard said.

"You expect to be able to just walk onto a guarded Hive with no resistance?" she countered. "How does it help Ronon and the others if we are all captured and killed?"

"I'm not comfortable with you… you know…" he twitched awkwardly, "… doing that stuff when we've no way of getting you out of it if anything goes wrong."

"Nothing will go wrong, John," she said. "And if I can create a diversion from inside the Hive – convince them that we have already gotten inside and are attacking their Queen…"

"See," he sighed, "there's another thing. It really isn't a good idea for you to go messing around inside the Queen's head. You know what happened the last time."

"The last time, I saved your life, and then you saved the life of my son. This time we are both here to save our people," she said firmly. "I am stronger now. I know what I am doing."

"And that's another—"

"John, there is no time for this. If we do not get our people out by the time the other Hive gets here—"

"Other Hive?" he frowned, "When did we—"

"I told you," she said, "on the radio. I said this might not be the only Hive we have to face."

"That makes it an even worse idea," he all but implored her. "What if the two Queens both start—"

"The longer we stand here arguing, the more likely that becomes," she snapped at him. "No, John, if you wish to get Ronon and the others out, if you wish for them to have a chance, then you must let me do this."

He sighed. He hadn't been able to argue because he knew she was right. Their best hope of getting in, getting Ronon and the others out, was if some kind of internal troubles kept the Wraith of the Hive busy.

Reluctantly he keyed his headset. "Teyla, this is Sheppard, respond."

"Yes, John," she said, sounding strangely calm, almost resigned. "I hear you."

"We're in position," he said. "Whenever you're ready."

**

Captain Osborne nudged Ronon's foot as the Wraith Commander and several drones approached the holding cell. Then he went to calm the rest of the marines, who were becoming disturbed by the approach of the Wraith.

Ronon climbed to his feet, moving to put himself between the men huddled at the back of the cell, and the doorway as it spiralled open. The Wraith Commander hissed at him and Ronon snarled in return. It earned him a backhanded slap to his face, but he remained resolute, undeterred.

"Which of you is the leader here?" The Wraith Commander demanded of the men behind Ronon. After only a moment, Osborne stepped forward. Ronon tried to catch his arm but the marine shook off the contact.

"I am," Osborne said, standing just a little straighter beside the big Satedan.

"Take him," the Wraith Commander ordered the drones behind him and they pushed forward to grab the marine by the arms and drag him toward the doorway. "Bring the other as well."

Ronon felt the one remaining drone prod at his back with the long staff it carried, until he followed the others.

The Hive was typical of every other he had seen, confusing in the twists and turns of the corridors and chambers – too many to remember – until at last they were brought to a rounded chamber, likely at the heart of the Hive.

"My Queen," the Commander called, and it was not until that moment that Ronon saw her, as she unwound herself from her place on the throne. Her robes, in swirling blacks and purples, blended with the organic material of the seat, and her dark hair, clasped away from her face, hung almost in ringlets about her shoulders, she had been curled like a huge serpent into the back of her resting place, almost as though she were sleeping, her face turned away from the light. Her eyes were red and bloodshot.

"Bring them," she said, and her voice was a low rumble around the chamber.

Ronon and Osborne were propelled into the chamber, the drones remaining on the threshold as if afraid to enter. The Commander gave obeisance, before he said, "These two have named themselves as the leaders of these humans, by their words and deeds."

"Excellent," she hissed, stalking toward them even as her Commander backed away. She tilted her head first one way and then the other, looking between Ronon and his companion.

When the Queen looked his way, Ronon snarled at her. Not usually affected by the fear most people suffered when faced with the Wraith, Ronon felt unusually unsettled. He could only imagine what Osborne must be feeling.

"You, human," she commanded, stretching out her hand toward Osborne, "come."

"There's nothing I can help you with," Osborne told her and each word betrayed the effort he was making not to obey her compulsion.

Ronon almost stepped forward to help the other man, but from behind, the Commander's hand, equipped with protective finger-guards that dug into his flesh. The Wraith held him in place.

The Queen wrapped her left arm around Osborne's neck, tilting his head back at an un-natural angle across her upper arm, and then swayed her head again until she faced Ronon.

"Now," she said, "I know how loyal you Lanteans are…" As she spoke in an almost mesmeric, sing-song voice, she raised her right hand, her feeding hand, and almost delicately unfastened the marine's clothing, before stroking the backs of her fingers against his flesh. Osborne stifled a gasp of fear as she touched him. "…so, you will tell me… what I wish to know… or I will… feed on him."

She snarled the last three words, a guttural, almost demonic sound and turned her hand so quickly that her palm was pressed against Osborne's chest before the man even had a chance to draw breath to fuel the scream of terror he let out.

As if to prove her point she threw back her head, snarling and hissing as she drew a taste of the marine's life force.

"I'll kill you," Ronon snarled and struggled with the Commander until the Queen pulled her hand away and growled wordlessly at Ronon for a second, before she suddenly began to laugh.

**

Sitting cross-legged in the centre of a protective circle of marines, Teyla closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. It was a ritual with which she was becoming all too familiar, and it did not take her long to find the thread, the specific telepathic resonance that led her to the mind of the Hive Queen.

She gasped softly… almost pained, and let out a small moan. The Queen was hungry… under a geas, an interdiction against feeding more than enough to keep her alive, given to her by a stronger Queen. It was Teyla's good fortune. It weakened the Wraith Queen.

…your mind is weak… …weak… …weak…

The Queen did not respond, focussed as she was on subduing the man she held, filling him with the terror she savoured as she had taken what little sustenance she was allowed, but Teyla felt the flicker of her concern, knew that the Queen had felt her presence.

…I know that you can hear me… …hear me… …hear me…

Who are you?

As the Queen responded, Teyla's inner vision cleared and she saw as though she inhabited some inner chamber of the Wraith Queen's mind. The Queen spun around to face her… and let out a long, slow serpentine hiss.

You! You are the one she seeks.

There was surprise in the mental voice, in the recognition she received from the Queen, and Teyla pushed back with all the blatant confidence that she could, taking a deep breath to fuel her mind.

…I am the one… …the one… …the one…

You will not escape m—

She took another breath, making claws of her fingers in the dirt of the ground and pushed the images she spoke onto the Queen's mind, thrust against her with emotions of fear and despair, dredged from some deep, dark place inside of her.

…the one that will bring darkness upon you… …darkness upon you… …upon you… …the one that will destroy your Hive around you… …around you… …you… …the one to bring fear to Wraith……to Wraith……Wraith… …to you, until you beg for the mercy of death… …mercy of death… …death…

You do not have the strength.

The Queen snarled at her sarcastically, truly believing Teyla did not have the strength to carry out the threats she made. Teyla knew that she had to prove that she could do as she said she would, or all would be lost.

…feel me… …feel… …feel…

Teyla took another deep breath and exhaled a very audible and Wraithlike hiss, unsettling the men around her, pushed the crushing force of her own will against the weakening Wraith Queen.

**

"Greater men than you have tri—" The Queen's taunting and laughter suddenly ceased. Her hand against the marine faltered, and she staggered backwards. "No," she cried, "you cannot!"

Ronon felt the Commander's grip on him fade, and confused he glanced around, trying to work out what was happening. He could see the Wraith was too, judging by the confused expression he saw on the Wraith's face as the Commander moved past him toward the stricken Queen.

"My Queen?" he said, and caught her arm as she stumbled again, releasing the marine.

"Leave me," the Queen cried, flailing, and the Commander backed away. Ronon's confusion increased, though he was sure that something terrible was happening and wondered if perhaps Osborne had been exposed to the Hoffan Virus and the Queen was about to die.

"Get out! Get out of my mind!"

Suddenly Ronon's confusion cleared and with the Queen's frantic, growling command, he knew that it was Teyla, mentally attacking the Queen. He suddenly grinned, and not wasting a moment of the distraction that his friend and team mate provided, he lunged for the Commander, snatching the knife from his belt and with it, grabbing his head with his free hand, he neatly sliced the surprised Wraith's throat, tossing him aside just as the Queen managed to get her hand to her pendant to sound the shrill, warbling Hive alarm.

**

As Sheppard watched, the heads of the drones turned in unison away from watching the approach to the Hive and a second later, the both of them hurried inside, staff weapons leading.

"Nice one, Teyla," he whispered to himself, even as he gave the signal for his men to begin the assault. "All teams, this is Sheppard. We have a go!"

As he led his own team's assault on the entrance to the Hive, he saw the black clad marines of the Atlantis Expedition streaming in toward the ship, some firing as they came.

He couldn't help but grin – they might just pull it off after all.

**

The Elder Queen almost gently caressed Hanna's cheek, newly restored to her former youth, and the girl leaned into the touch as one would to a lover.

"My Queen," she whispered.

Vega shivered, and then jumped as the same words echoed more strongly from the doorway.

"My Queen…" the Hive Commander strode to the middle of the Queen's chamber, and he lowered himself to one knee, his head bowed.

"Speak," she said, though she never once took her eyes from Hanna's face, nor the contrast between her Wraith flesh and the lustrous human skin tones.

"We have left hyperspace, my Queen, and are approaching the planet where we will find the woman… and our subordinate Hive," he said.

The Queen instantly forgot the sudden, Sapphic attentions she was bestowing upon Hanna and waved her away. Vega too was included in the dismissal – even the Hive Commander.

"Leave me," she commanded. "I wish to be alone."

Vega needed no second bidding, and while Hanna slipped, doe eyed, away toward the Hive Commander and his forbidding presence, she hurried away into the shadows until she was sure she could not be seen. She had to know that Todd was all right.

It had nothing to do with the feelings that had flooded her when she was in his arms, or the sensations in her fingertips as she had covered his digits with her own in an almost sensual caress…

Todd eased her away from the workbench. He turned her in his almost soft grasp, to hold her as he had been on the bridge of the Hive ship, one arm across her waist, the other teasing at the sensitive skin of her neck.

"I think you'll find that we could have plenty left to explore…" he said. Her fingers found their way to cover his hand, to slide over his pale digits. She leaned her head back beside the opened buckle, breathing in small snatches. She closed her eyes as he finished softly, "If that was what you wanted."

"I don't know what I want," she told him, her voice an honest and frightened whisper, but she could not ignore the desire that was stirring in her. "Are you making me feel this way… with your mind, I mean?"

"Do I need to?" he purred, drawing her back a little more closely against him, and switched the positions of their hands, so that his larger fingers ran strong caresses against hers, front and back, until his fingernails could scrape lightly against her wrist. "The same… pulse…" his voice sounded right beside her ear, and she had not realised he had leaned down to her. She started, and let out a small gasp, that became a moan as he continued with both his words, and his caresses, "…flows in your veins… as in mine…"

"Todd…" she whispered in a rush.

"No." The word was more like a breath that moved over her, a warm wind that set every nerve jumping and every hair to stand on end. "Not any more."

The breath continued, and he allowed her to turn in his arms…

… She just didn't want to be stuck on the Hive without him.

She forced herself to slow her steps as she saw him pacing his laboratory, but still the words exploded from her.

"You're all right."

He spun around to face her. "Alicia, what are you doing here?"

"She was so angry. I worried that—"

"She has given me a task to do, though… once it is done…" he trailed off, and reached past her to close the laboratory door.

"What could she possibly want?" Vega gripped his arm. "I don't understand. What possible good does it do her restoring Michael to his Wraith self? He clearly hates her. Turning him back into a Wraith isn't going to change that."

"Evolution," he answered.

"What?" She blinked at him in confusion.

"She seeks evolution, for Wraith," he repeated, going on to assert, "The primary concern of any Queen… beyond the protection of her Hive."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," she said, looking at him in near disgust at what she thought he was saying.

"As you come to know me better, Alicia," he looked at her most earnestly, "you will find that it is only on very rare occasions that I will ever be… kidding, as you so colourfully put it."

"So what the hell do we do?" she asked.

"Do?" he echoed, frowning at her in confusion. "We do as she has bidden us, that is what comm—Wraith males do, and certainly Wraith Worshippers."

"Now just hold on a minute," she protested, "no one said anything about—"

"Whether or not you see yourself in that position is immaterial. She considers you as such and therefore, if you wish to survive here, you will comply with the role." he told her.

"But we can't stay here," she grabbed his other arm this time, as if she would shake some sense into him. He did not move even an inch.

"We?" he questioned.

"Well, you just implied that you didn't know if you'd be kept alive once you're done with this crazy science experiment for her… and I'm certainly not going to hang around if she manages to restore that maniac to Wraith-hood-ness… whatever. Can't see it being all that much of a picnic if—"

"The chances are that the experiment will fail. She did not give me the time to perfect the formula."

"So she'll kill you."

"Likely," he said, almost calm.

"Well then, like I said, we've got to get the hell away from here."

"Where would we go?" he said, and she opened and then closed her mouth, her brain providing her with no answer. "I have told you repeatedly that you should trust me, Alicia Vega. If I cannot give her… Michael," he hesitated on the name, "restored to full Wraith, then I can at least provide her with the promise of her desired evolution."

"Bluff, you mean?"

"Naturally," he said, and she thought she caught a slight, defiant twinkle in his golden eyes.

**

…you cannot prevail… …cannot prevail… …prevail…

Teyla continued a deep and circular breathing so that she could maintain the control she had over the Queen, send her stumbling, drunken and clumsy around her chamber. Making her lash out at the drones and commanders that came to try and aid her.

…your Hive is mine… …is mine… …mine…

She forced the image of a decaying and destroyed Hive into the mind of the Wraith Queen, felt the answering, primal terror the thought kindled, and pushed even harder.

…I will take it… destroy it… destroy you……destroy you… …you…

=I= =warned= =you=

Teyla gasped… losing concentration for a moment.

"No!" she cried out, and felt the hand of one of the Marines closing around her wrist. "I'm all right," she gasped, pushing him away, "Let go."

She took another deep and shuddering breath, and forced her mind back into the lesser Queen's mind. She had to see this through and quickly… in spite of knowing that the safest thing to do would be to leave.

**

Sheppard felt the second the atmosphere changed as almost a tangible moment that he could pinpoint.

"Heads up," he said in warning to the marines as they led the former prisoners through the maze of corridors that made up the outer part of the Hive. "McKay, we really could use that information around now."

"I'm trying," McKay snapped back, staring at his hand-held detector. "I'm having trouble locating the energy signature, that's all."

"We're running out of time," Sheppard said, "Don't ask me how I know. I just know."

"There!" McKay snapped as they came to the junction of three corridors. "This way."

Under other circumstances Sheppard would have chuckled at the way the scientist let two marines go ahead of him down the corridor, but the moment the Wraith started firing on them, the chuckle died in his throat, along with the first of the two marines.

"Fall back!" he started to order, but from behind the Wraith came a very welcome and familiar trilling sound, and before another moment passed, the Wraith started dropping to the ground.

"Miss me?" Ronon asked, grinning as the last Wraith fell.

"Ronon," McKay blinked at him. "How did you—"

"They took us to the Queen," Ronon said, as Osborne limped up behind him, carrying weapons for the others. "She started having a…" he pointed to his head and concluded, "Teyla."

Sheppard nodded, but then said, "I've got a feeling she isn't having a… Teyla any more. McKay, a way out of here would be really good around now."

"I'm working on it," he answered, muttering to himself under his breath. "This way!"

"Try again, McKay!" Sheppard said, and suddenly threw himself against the bulkhead wall, bracing himself and firing a stream of bullets down the corridor toward the approaching Wraith.

"There is no other way!" McKay yelped. "That's it!"

"Ah, crap!" Sheppard answered, and with a glance at Ronon, who raised his own weapon and nodded, the two of them led the charge toward the incoming Wraith, firing every step of the way.

**

Even the memory of the pain that she had felt aboard Michael's cruiser the first time she had stumbled on the Elder Queen's mind, did nothing to prepare her for the burning agony that thrust itself like hot needles into her mind. She could not contain the scream it brought from her.

=now you are mine= =you are mine= =mine=

Fighting the pain that threatened to break her mind apart, Teyla gathered her strength, of necessity releasing the lesser Queen from her grasp, and pushing in defence against the Elder's attack.

…your time is coming to an end… …coming to an end… …to an end…

=it is you who will end= =you who will end= =you will end=

The fire spread through her body and limbs, twisting her muscles and contorting her as she fell to the ground.

=I will break you= =break you= =break you= =gather you to me= =gather you= =gather= =and you will be a plaything for my most trusted drones before you die= =before you die= =you die=

Teyla wailed at the images thrust into her, the imagined pain of the things the Queen promised coursing through her.

"No!" she screamed aloud the denial and pushed the pain of all of it against the touch of the Elder Queen's mind.

**

Sheppard spun around the turn in the corridor and let off a barrage of gunfire as he crossed to the alcove on the other side. Ronon followed him around the bend, firing and running zigzag along the corridor to take an alcove of his own, avoiding the blasts from the Wraith stunners.

They were almost there. Sheppard could see the exit, and the small group of Wraith that stood between them and the open air.

"Just a few more minutes, Teyla," he whispered, and then jumped as his radio crackled a burst of static in his ear before it resolved into the voice of his Bravo team leader.

"…I repeat, Teyla's been compromised… please advise."

"Crap," he snarled, and rolling out of his position, firing into the Wraith, he keyed the mic and answered, "Get to the Gate. Don't wait for us; just… drag her if you have to. Just don't stun her. You do that and we may lose her for good. Just get her to the Gate, dial Atlantis and get the hell out of here. Keller will know what to do."

Already he could hear the presence of Darts in the sky outside the Hive. It could prove to be a very short trip if they didn't manage to avoid them.

Ronon gave a sharp cry, reminding him of the danger they were still in from the Wraith inside the Hive and that worrying about the Darts outside was in fact a little premature.

"Ronon?" he called out in question.

"I'm all right," the Satedan shouted back. "It's just a flesh wound. Let's go… we're clear!"

Sheppard blinked, and looked toward the pile of Wraith bodies in the doorway. It took him only a moment longer to get his feet to cooperate and carry him toward the field outside.

**

Zelenka thought his heart was going to explode and he promised himself that if he got back to Atlantis in one piece he was going to go to the gym every day and get fit enough to easily keep up with the marines of Charlie team.

They had to dodge and weave, and frequently take cover, to avoid the Darts that were flying overhead. That didn't help, but slowly, little by little, he and the team advanced on the Gate.

He heard Teyla before he saw her… and gasped softly at the words that were pouring from her mouth as she struggled with the four marines it was taking to restrain her, the likes of which he had never before heard from the normally genteel Athosian woman's mouth.

He had heard of times before when she had been under the influence of the Wraith, but the reports of it paled by comparison to seeing her spittle flaked lips moving in threats and insults of the worst kind, her eyes rolled back in her head and her body thrashing and twisted as though she were having some kind of seizure.

"Dial the Gate," someone yelled, and one of the marines holding Teyla tried to do so, but the moment the soldier let go of her arm, she lashed out towards the nearest of the others, and caught him a dreadful blow to the side of his face, others already lay wounded or unconscious in the clearing by the gate.

"You," the sight of Teyla's distress spurred his strength and he called out to the marine that dithered beside the DHD. "You hold the girl," he said, "I'll dial."

He all but threw himself at the DHD and keyed the sequence of symbols to dial back to Atlantis.

"Come on, come on…" he murmured, watching the steady red light on his wrist-mounted com device, and impatiently pushed the button to once against send his IDC. From somewhere overhead and a little way behind their position he thought he heard the whine of a Dart coming in, fast. Just as he thought he would need to send his IDC a third time, the light switched from red to green.

"GO!" he yelled at the men holding Teyla, and ran to all but push them through the Gate. The Dart was getting closer. If they didn't hurry, they would not all make it. He held his breath, ready to dive aside if need be, and hang the consequences of the bruises he would have. At least he would be alive and not Wraith fodder.

As he stood with his back to the event horizon, watching in horror the incoming Dart, the last of the marines hooked his arm and pulled him in.

There was a momentary, dizzying rush, before he stumbled backwards into the Gate room.

"Raise the shield!" he yelled, "Now!"

Banks didn't hesitate and, barely a second later, the sound of something hitting the energy shield that protected Atlantis from the ingress of outside enemies, punctuated the sound of Teyla's growling and snarling.

**

The Queen's angry cry could be heard and felt throughout the Hive, and Michael lifted his head from where it rested against his knees and let out a long, slow, trembling breath. The breath became more ragged with each he took, emotion rising to choke him. She had escaped her… and the relief was just too much for him to bear on top of everything else.

Ignoring the molten heat of the pain it caused him he reached up with his right hand to grasp the spiral bars of his cell and drag himself to his feet. Then, exhausted from the effort of everything, he put his head against the bars, and wept.

**

Exhausted, after several long hours of observation, Teyla had finally been allowed to return to her own quarters to rest. She would be permitted no further participation in any missions until the new psychologist had declared her fit for duty – undamaged by her encounter with the Elder Queen. It took her what felt like hours to get herself ready for sleep, but as soon as she slipped into bed she drifted away… to sleep… and to dream…

"I was wrong, Teyla."

Michael's voice was soft and full of regret, and his hand came to rest gently on her shoulder.

"Michael…" she whispered, and moved to lean backwards against him, but the pressure of his hand gently turned her to face him. She closed her eyes as she turned, not wanting to see him as before, hurt and bloodied before her.

"Look at me," he said, "please."

Slowly she opened her eyes and almost sobbed to see his face, his hybrid features clear of harm.

"I want you to know," he started, "What I did, to your people… to you—"

"Michael, I know…" she meant to reach up and cover his lips with the touch of her fingers, but he caught both her hands in his. "I unders—"

"Hear me," he craved, and his eyes implored her to listen.

"It began in anger, Teyla, out of a desire for vengeance… against the people of Atlantis, who did this to me… against you, for your participation, against the Wraith, for their rejection, but…I could never clear the one truth from my… heart." He swallowed and looked away for a moment before he turned his face back to hers, and she thought she saw the light reflecting from moisture there. "When I first saw you, something in me recognised you… a part of you that I don't think even you know you carry. You—" He looked away again, trembling before he took a breath to compose himself enough to go on. "You are the one person in this universe with the power to—" His voice cracked, and this time he could not go on.

Slowly he guided her hands, to come to rest against him. One, her right, on his chest, over his heart, which fluttered beneath her touch, the other he guided behind his head until her fingers rested, trembling against the back of his neck. He closed his eyes.

"Give me solace, Teyla," he appealed in the rush of a whisper, "And if nothing else, do not look unkindly on all of my deeds. Remember that above all else, I would have given you my life, if you had asked it."

"Michael?" She frowned, a dreadful ache beginning in the middle of her chest.

"Teyla…" he murmured, and almost slowly leaned towards her upturned face until their lips almost brushed together…

She woke sobbing, gasping for breath, desperate for escape from the terrible feeling of grief that had lodged inside of her… irrational. As though she suddenly felt the walls of the city closing in around her she all but threw herself from her bed, and wrapping only a robe around her sleeping clothes ran from her quarters as though the very shadows of the sleeping city were chasing her… taunting her.

Blinded by the tears she could not stop she ran through the corridors of the city, not thinking, nor caring where her steps took her. Up, she ran… pushing past patrolling security guards and tired engineers alike, up through the jumper bay, still trapped by walls that swelled around her, to constrict her, crush her.

The shock of wind that gusted about her, and stole what little breath she still possessed as she burst out of the doorway at the top of the central tower stopped her cold, and she gasped for air, before she screamed in anguish at the twin moons and fell to her knees barely a breath away from the edge.

"WHERE ARE YOU!"

**

"This isn't quite the place I would have liked to conduct the first of our sessions," Varnerin said with more than a hint of sarcasm, "but it will do."

"Leave me alone," she answered him, barely turning her head to acknowledge his presence. "I am not yet ready to talk."

She had no idea how long she had been kneeling there, staring blindly into the wind, but when she focussed her eyes again, one of the moons had long since set, the other was sinking toward the watery horizon.

"That was quite the display," Varnerin said, moving toward her with slow steps. He ignored her request for solitude.

"It is no business of yours," she told him and quickly came to her feet, turning to face him as the menace she felt from him swept over her.

"I wish I could say that I'm sorry to disappoint you in that," Varnerin smiled coldly, "but it's every bit my concern, Teyla."

"And that is why you have been following me, still," she spat, "in spite of Doctor Keller's assurances that all is well; that no Wraith Queen controls me."

"Where is whom?" He ignored her accusation as she suspected he would. She in turn ignored him. She had to turn to keep him in view as he stalked toward her, still nearer. She turned until her back was to the open air.

"You know," he said, "it's a curious thing to watch as someone sleeps – as they dream – to try and interpret what they see from the little moans and mumbles they make; to watch as frowns cross their faces and to decide if it is anger or confusion they feel."

"You have been watching me?" she demanded, disgust filling her at the thought of those cold dark eyes invading her rest… or restlessness.

"Your quarters have been under video surveillance for some time," he admitted with a shrug. "I thought you knew that."

"I assumed that had been discontinued as soon as I had spoken with Colonel Sheppard and Mister Woolsey on what I remembered after my meditation was complete," she said hotly.

"You would have thought so, perhaps, yes," Varnerin purred, "but evidently someone made the decision not to do so."

"You told them—" she began, but he interrupted.

"It's understandable, Teyla, when you consider that practically every other word you speak, awake or sleeping, concerns Michael, or calls for him. Of course they would be reluctant to trust you."

"As it is understandable that I speak of him often," she snarled, "that he haunts my dreams. I was his prisoner. He has my son. He—"

"Methinks that lady protesteth too much," Varnerin said, the sarcasm like a blow to her gut. "Michael is not going to harm the boy. You know that. I know that, as does anyone else that's seen the PCRs I have in my office drawer."

"What are you talking about?" She frowned in confusion and took half a step away from him, her heels hard against the edge of the tower.

"Oh come, Teyla," he purred, "why feign innocence any longer. Doctor Keller did the tests herself, prompted by Doctor McKay as I understand."

"Tests?"

"You're trying my patience, woman," Varnerin growled. "I'm no geneticist, but even I can see there's no doubt that the blood in the placental remains proves the filial match of your son's DNA with that of his father: Michael."

"You're insane!" she snapped, but a hollow, sick feeling began to grow in the pit of her stomach. "Kanaan was the father of my son."

"The science proves otherwise," Varnerin said, taking a step closer with a feral grin on his face.

"How dare you!" Teyla said angrily, trembling.

"I dare because it's the truth," he answered. "Is the truth too much for you? After all, you're lying to everyone else, aren't you? Why not lie to yourself?"

"I have told no lies," she spat.

"You're claiming fear for the life of your son when you know full well that, even with all of which he might be capable, Michael isn't going to hurt his own child, now, is he?"

Teyla's heart and stomach changed places. "Kanaan was the father of my son," she growled.

"No," Kanaan said, gasping, "listen… Don't… don't worry… about— about the… child…"

"Sshh," she tried to soothe him, running her fingers through his hair. Her hand shook. "Please, Kanaan, save your strength. Our child—"

Gripping her as tightly as his failing strength would allow, he shook his head. "In… time," he took another bubbling breath, "…you… you will come… to realise—"

"How does it feel, Teyla, to be sent away; not needed any more?" He was relentless. "I suppose we should be thankful for small mercies. At least he didn't kill you, as Colonel Sheppard seemed to think he would."

He took another step forward and, even knowing she had nowhere to go, Teyla backed away. She flailed wildly and felt, deep inside the panic that gripped her, another consuming wave of loss and almost overwhelmed by it, stopped struggling to hold her balance. She slipped then, and would have fallen but for Varnerin's sudden, fierce grip on her arm as he pulled her to safety. Then he turned them both and pushed her against the tower wall.

"The question is," he said as he leaned toward her, "what happens now?"

"Let go of me!" She struggled against him as he stepped closer still.

"I don't think so," he said.

"Let go of me, or I swear—"

"You'll what? Kill me? Leave me in the 'deepest hole I can imagine, alone… keep me there until I beg for forgiveness…'? Is that what you learned from him, Teyla?"

Still she struggled against his unusually strong grasp. "Let me go!"

"…pillow talk in your most intimate moments?" he pressed on relentlessly. "I've seen the tapes. There's no sense in denying you're—"

The first rays of morning sun broke the horizon, casting an appropriately sickly shadow over Varnerin's face, twisted as it was with an expression of contempt. In the face of it she could no longer remain pinned, and lashed out with the flat of her hand as everything he'd said, every accusation, churned inside of her.

Under the force of the open handed strike he stumbled backwards, winded, and came to his knees where she had first been. He gasped for breath as she peeled herself away from the wall to come and stand over him.

"We are finished here," she said, stepping inward and pulling her hand once more from his grasp. "If you ever come near me again, I will kill you. And that is not an idle threat."

"Some day, Teyla, you may have to make good on that promise," he taunted her softly, "Because this issue isn't going away. I'm not going away."

"Then I shall," she told him, and without waiting for his answer this time, she turned and hurried inside, not certain whether to feel more angry, hurt or betrayed.

**

"Anyone sitting here?" McKay asked Keller as he came to find a place to sit and eat his breakfast.

"No, no, I think you're good," she said. "Just getting up, or just going to bed?"

"Just getting breakfast," he answered with a grin. "You?"

"About the same. I've been trying to figure out more about this amino chain that Todd gave us. I mean, I know it's key in something to do with the Hoffan plague, but… I don't know how practical its application would be, I—"

Rodney frowned as Jennifer broke off, until he saw that the shadow that had crossed their table was Teyla. He looked up, intending to smile, but then he saw her face. He frowned instead. She'd been crying, and crying hard by the look of things, and he'd never known Teyla to cry, not for anything.

"Teyla?" he began.

But she was not looking at him, she was looking at Keller. He started to get up.

"Why didn't you say something?" she all but spat the words at the doctor. "At least then you would have been the one to tell me, not some arrogant, gloating—"

"Teyla, what are you talking about?" Keller asked softly. She started to pull out a chair for Teyla.

"Why didn't you tell me about my son!" she cried, throwing aside the chair that Jennifer had started to pull out for her. "Michael's DNA!"

"Oh, God," Rodney looked at Teyla's face once more, and then did get up. "Listen, Teyla, it's my fault I—"

"You knew as well?" she rounded on him, accusingly, "And you didn't tell me. Even though you shared captivity with me aboard his ship; even though I fought for your safety with Michael, this is how you repay me?"

"Don't take it out on Rodney, please, Teyla, he came to me with the concerns, yes, but you're right. I should have been the one to tell you about it."

"Teyla," Rodney tried, "it's not as bad as it might seem."

"Not as ba—"

"It wasn't just Mi—" Rodney tried again, but his heart was in his mouth and he doubted she'd listen.

"I trusted you!" she cried, "both of you!"

"You need to stop, and calm down, and listen to me." Jennifer said, and her voice shook with either fear or anger. Rodney couldn't be sure which.

"Who else?" Teyla asked.

"What?" Keller frowned in apparent confusion, although Rodney knew what the Athosian woman was asking.

"Who else did you tell?"

"Look, Teyla," McKay started forwards to put a hand onto her arm. She shook off his touch. "It's not a matter of who else did we tell. I was worried about needing to find you in case anything happened; in case all of that DNA junk floating around in your bloodstream… harmed you in any way. Sheppard and Ronon—"

"Everyone!" Teyla cried and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"Not everyone," he squeaked.

"Everyone," she said again, "and not one of you said anything."

"That's not true," Keller said, putting a hand over Teyla's, trying to get her to let go of him. "I know that Colonel Sheppard told you to speak with me."

"He should have made it clearer why I should speak with you," Teyla said and did let go of him.

"I'm sure he just felt it was more proper coming from Jennifer," McKay said, "Teyla, listen—"

"I cannot," she said, and tears came to her eyes. Rodney tried to reach for her, but she backed away. "The time when I could have listened to counsel from Atlantis is long past. I cannot stay here. Not any more."

**

Act 5

Sheppard had spent the better part of the day trying to persuade Teyla that she should stay; that their differences could be worked out, and that they needed her. Perhaps that last part was the truth, but Teyla doubted the rest.

Even though, calmer now, she could understand why he hadn't told her about Michael's involvement with her son, to have discovered the truth as she had was too much for her to bear.

For just a moment, she turned away from the Gate to look around the city one last time. It had been her home for a long time, and to be away from it, and from the friendships—

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears, and Sheppard stepped forward, joking a little, she knew, to try and lighten the atmosphere, he said, "Hey, we have your address, we can always write."

She gave a faint smile, but said sadly, "I do not think so. If we meet again, it will be a long time… to allow the hurt to heal. I fear we need that – both of us."

"Yeah," he said, and nodded, looking at the ceiling.

"Goodbye, John." she said softly, and walked to where Ronon was waiting for her by the Gate, to escort her back to her people.

**

They had walked in near silence from the Stargate to where Halling and some of her people waited on the outskirts of the Athosian village, on yet another home world to them.

Ronon reached for her hand to draw her to a halt a little away from the welcoming party.

"You really meant it," he said sadly, "about not coming back?"

"Ronon, I am sorry," she said softly, "but not for a long time, if ever."

He sighed and looked down trying to think of what he could say to give her comfort. Nothing came to him, and she continued.

"Knowing that people I have called my friends for more than four years could treat me the way I have been treated; could keep something like this from me – it leaves me groundless – with nowhere I can turn for support."

"You could always come to me," he said.

"But you knew as well," she accused gently. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Teyla," Ronon sighed. "It's not that I didn't want to tell you – I just didn't know how."

"You have always known the way to speak with me," she said, looking up at him.

He shook his head. "Not like this, not about this," he said. "Every time I thought about the… experiments he must have done to you; to the baby… how he took something beautiful and pure that you and Kanaan had made and corrupted it with his madness, I just… I just wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands and—"

"Thank you," she interrupted softly.

He blinked at her, "For?"

"At least you do not think that Michael and I—"

"You made that child with Kanaan," he said quietly. "I know you did."

**

She breathed in deeply of the sweet scent of the Dulusk flower. "Luska Tea?" she asked, "All this time and you still remember?"

"Don't make fun of me," Kanaan said softly, starting to turn away, and he looked so hurt that she reached out to stop him; her hand soft and gentle against his cheek. He leaned into the touch. "I made it for you."

She smiled at him and took the bowl he offered, glancing down into the dark liquid… into the reflection of his face in the mirror of its surface. Her breath caught in her chest, the knot of it spiralling down to sit low and deep in her belly.

"You know… I waited a long time for this," he told her softly, still cupping the wooden bowl she held in his hand, to steady it in hers, that trembled slightly. "I… I'd like to think you—"

"Of course… I…" she flushed with embarrassment, a strange feeling in front of him. Oddly out of place. With a breath she took the bowl into both of her hands and sipped at the warm, sweet liquid inside. The sudden enormity of what they were doing caught her breath as she watched him take a sip of his own.

Without another word he took the bowl from her hands and set them both aside, moving closer.

"Why… why have you never—" she started, but could not finish. She took several breaths before she began again, "We have been friends since we were children, Kanaan. Why has this never surfaced between us before?"

"Teyla, does it matter?" he reached for her and she leaned backward a little, out of his reach.

"Yes."

She closed her eyes, remembering the night she and Kanaan had made that pledge to one another, but another memory intruded, of the recurring dream, and of Kanaan's dying words.

"In… time," he took another bubbling breath, "…you… you will come… to realise—"

Teyla shivered, and allowed Ronon to draw her closer.

"Promise me something, Ronon," she asked softly.

"Anything," he answered.

"Look out for the others… especially where Varnerin is concerned."

"You have my word on that," he said with just a hint of anger in his voice. He softened quickly as he asked, "What will you do now?"

"There is only one thing I can do," she said and the sorrow in her rose again as she brought Michael to mind, and through him, her missing son. "I have to find Nethaiye."

"And Michael?" She heard the hesitation in his voice as he asked of the Wraith-Human hybrid.

"I honestly do not know what I might do, when we next meet," she said, and then frowning, and for no reason she could understand, added, "If we ever do."

Ronon nodded, and she knew he had accepted her doubts.

"If you need me," he said, but did not finish.

"I know where to find you," she nodded.

"I mean it, Teyla," he said.

"I know you do, Ronon, but," she sighed, "as much as I understand your actions, the hurt remains."

"I understand," he said, and she watched the sigh that came from deep in his belly.

"Time heals, Ronon," she said, "Perhaps some day…"

Tears came to her eyes. In many ways it was much harder leaving Ronon than it had been John or any of the others. He had always been there for her; always understood. He was the brother she had always craved.

Slowly she took hold of his other hand and waited with her head bowed until he shared the gesture with her.

"I will not say goodbye to you, Ronon," she said softly. "Only wish you well until our paths cross again."

"Farewell, Teyla," he answered. "I know you will find him… and when you do—" his voice cracked. "Come back to us."

Michael closed his eyes.

"Give me solace, Teyla," he appealed in the rush of a whisper, "And if nothing else, do not look unkindly on all of my deeds. Remember that above all else, I would have given you my life, if you had asked it."

"Michael?" She frowned, a dreadful ache beginning in the middle of her chest.

"One day," she whispered, and letting go, walked tear-blinded into Halling's embrace.

**

Vega stood behind the Queen watching as the Wraith drones dragged an uncooperative Michael into the laboratory. He was fighting as best he could, every step, but his strength was long since depleted and he seemed to succeed only in hurting his already injured arm still further.

She could almost feel the fear streaming off him. It was something she never expected from him.

She shifted her gaze to Todd, who stood, apparently calm, waiting beside the tray on his workbench which held a syringe of yellowish green fluid. He looked up and, for just a second, met her eyes. The resolve she saw in his expression calmed her rapid heartbeat just enough to make it easier for her to breathe. Still she jumped when the Queen spoke.

"It need not have been done in this manner," she hissed at the now growling Michael. "If you had but acquiesced."

"To you," he snarled, fear becoming defiance once more, and for that, in some small way, Vega admired him.

"So be it," the Queen snarled in return. "Either way, I shall proceed with my endeavour."

"You will not prevail," he warned, but the Queen was not listening. She snapped her head around to face Todd.

"Proceed," she demanded.

**

In spite of his bravado, Michael flinched as the scientist closed the distance between them, and he tried to back away. The drones held him firmly, their hands and finger guards digging into his flesh.

He watched the fear come into the face of the Atlantean woman, and in that instant knew that the scientist had not achieved the task the Queen had given him. The rhythm of his heartbeat faltered, and he redoubled his efforts to free himself from the drones. They held him fast.

The scientist roughly grabbed his hair and pulled his head to one side, exposing his neck, and the veins there. He struggled, even though it made the sting of the needle that much sharper.

The serum flooded into him like icy fire. He could track its progress as it burst as an ache inside his head and down to squeeze his heart as if some massive bellows worked to crush him. After only a laboured breath, the pain of it began.

He clenched his teeth against the bubbling and churning that began deep inside him, but all too soon the intensity of the agonising change that was sweeping over him, and through him, overcame his resistance. He cried out, "I will kill you for this…!"

He cried out in a pained tone, "You will die for this!" and roared again. "Others will come for me! They will destroy you—"

"Blah, blah, blah," Sheppard mocked him.

"They gotta find us first," Ronon snapped.

He roared again, fighting the restraints that held him down.

"You're gonna need a name," Sheppard said, "How does Mike sound?"

"…all of you!"

But even the defiant cries became wordless as the agony took hold, as his transformation accelerated, and even above his own screams he could hear the crackling and popping of his bones, sinews and flesh.

-forgive me, Teyla- -forgive me- -forgive-

**

Todd held his breath as the Renegade's features sharpened, becoming more Wraithlike with each moment that passed. As the familiar features of his ages-old rival began to reform before his eyes, he felt a flush of hope, but just as he believed that his modifications had worked this time, the Renegade's cries took on a different tone. They became more shrill… panicked and of a greater agony.

He sighed as he watched patches of flesh beginning to darken, twisting in a way that showed he had not completely suppressed the Iratus radicals in the Queen's DNA.

**

Vega almost whimpered as the Wraithlike creature that had once been Michael sagged between the two drones and finally they let go.

Michael stumbled to his knees and then toppled sideways. He twitched a few times and then was still.

"Well?" the Queen took a step closer. The irritation was clear in her voice, and from the way she tilted her head, Vega knew that some silent communication was passing between her and Todd.

Todd knelt, with some caution, she observed, beside Michael. He reached a hand toward Michael's neck and for a moment was still. Then, very slowly, he shook his head.

The Queen hissed, long and loud in Todd's direction and then turned and swept away, and Vega could not remain to ask him of what had passed between them. She hurried to catch up to the Wraith Queen.

**

It was an almost fatalistic sense of calm that settled over her as the knock sounded at the door of the home her people had given to her. Teyla turned to face the doorway as, a moment later, Halling entered.

"We are ready," he said softly.

She nodded and came to his side.

When she had returned to them, her people had expressed a desire to hold a funeral service for Kanaan, and though the thought of it kindled mixed feelings inside of her, she had agreed. He had died saving her life, not because of Michael, not directly, but because of the Wraith and their desire to eliminate the renegade hybrid, to eliminate anyone with a trace of Michael's DNA.

"Teyla, listen to me," Michael said firmly, breathing out hard, in the way she knew he did when he was controlling his temper. "The device embedded in his neck is of Wraith design. It is a seeker, programmed to find specific DNA and loaded with enough toxin to kill everyone in this room who possesses that DNA. It will only be a matter of time before it works its way free of him. Don't fight me."

"How do you know?" She moaned, feeling the truth from him, even as her eyes drifted back to Kanaan, who had begun to shake with convulsions.

"I know because I designed them," he said, and she thought he sounded almost sorrowful, "a long time ago."

Thinking on that suddenly brought to mind the question of her son's DNA, or how she herself might have been under threat from that.

"Come, Teyla, they are waiting." Halling's hand on her shoulder brought her out of her dark reveries.

"I am afraid," she confessed.

"It has been a difficult time for you," he answered, "but I believe that this will help."

She nodded and allowed him to lead her toward where the large pyre had been built. Her steps faltered as she saw the wrapped form, lying in state on top of the wooden platform.

"I—" she swallowed hard. Did she have a right to be here? Did she have any feelings beyond a deep friendship for the man Kanaan had been? Had she allowed the deep, consuming loneliness she had felt on that evening to prompt her to accept his advances; to allow her to take comfort from his gentle seduction?

"I was a fool that did not realise his own heart," he reached for her again, sliding his fingers into her hair – leaning closer. The fluttering inside of her reached an almost overwhelming crescendo and only half serious she pushed him away, but she burned with the need for contact – to feel that intimacy.

He caught her hand, pulled it close to breathe against her wrist, sending a shock through her so intense that she pulled away and moaned softly. He followed, moving closer again even as she backed away, her breathing coming more and more quickly.

"You would deny me, now that you know…?" he said in a low voice that rumbled through her core.

"Know?" she whispered, tentatively reaching to brush her fingertips against the air before his lips, "I—"

She let out a small cry as he suddenly reached for her, wrapped her in his arms and lifted her closer. Startled she almost beat against his shoulders, looking down into his eyes that were full of need of her…but strangely playful in a way she would never have expected.

And yet… even now… did she see Michael in that moment?

She shivered, feeling suddenly cold, uncomfortable. She had loved Kanaan, yes, but as the childhood friend he had always been. Beyond that…

"In… time," he took another bubbling breath, "…you… you will come… to realise—"

She took a deeper breath and finally stepped forwards.

"I am ready," she said quietly, coming to join the others. With a sigh she took the lighted torch from the hand of the Athosian man standing beside the pyre.

"We are sorry, Teyla," he said quietly, but she shook her head.

"He was a good man," she said. "Let us give him a respectful farewell. He would not have wanted us to weep."

She paused for just a moment before she pushed the torch into the dry kindling at the centre of the pyre and stepped back. Another deep sigh escaped her as the flames and heat blurred her vision.

The heat melted the canvass that the people of Atlantis had used to wrap Kanaan's body before they had delivered it from M7S-445, and in the rising temperature of the flames, his head fell slowly to the side, almost as though he had turned it.

Teyla gasped and began to take a step forward, but Halling caught her arm, as did Kara to the other side of her. An intense, deep sorrow swept over her and her vision, already blurred from the heat and the smoke, unfocussed still more, lending a surreal atmosphere to the entire ceremony.

"Teyla…"

She drew in another hurried breath and her heart constricted in her chest. Logically she knew there was no way that Kanaan, who now lay within the pyre, eyes open, appealing to her in desperation, could be living. Yet the tattoo that beat inside of her chest, frantic and painfully real, almost convinced her otherwise; as real as her vision before she had been taken.

"I came for you, just like you asked." she told Kanaan.

"Like I asked," Michael corrected, stepping closer to the bars, beside Kanaan. "I was the one in your visions – appropriately disguised, of course."

As she watched, Kanaan's hybrid features distorted and sharpened; changed, becoming more pronounced – the illusion melting away to reveal Michael amid the devastating flames.

…Michael…!

She took another step forwards, but was again restrained by Halling and Kara.

"But—" she began, a sickening fear and worry replacing the sorrow.

"Let him go, Teyla," Halling said, barely above a whisper. She knew he did not understand.

"Teyla…!"

The vision of Michael persisted, however, and he reached for her through the flames and the haze of heat.

"Help me, Teyla, plea—"

-forgive me, Teyla- -forgive me- -forgi…-

As though a cloud had lifted from the sun on a dark day, as though the smoke was suddenly borne away on a breeze, the vision came to an abrupt end…

The vision came to an abrupt end and Michael was gone.

Though her son was still missing she knew that she would find him.

Although the sadness at the thought of all that had happened in the City of the Ancients was crushing, and the responsibility she felt she had in the galaxy was a terrible weight, Teyla felt that she had finally taken a step forward. She felt a kind of freedom almost within reach. It should have been a comfort… but did not reach to warm the sudden, dreadful cold within her heart… or to banish the thought that it had all come at some terrible price.

Teyla stood with her people, sadly watching the mortal remains of her childhood friend, the man she thought of as the father of her son, reduced to ash and dust.

fin