Spoilers: Because of some similarities, this may contain spoilers up to and including Season 4, Vengeance.

Rating: T for some mild language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate Atlantis or any of the characters associated with it.

Chapter Four

Teyla checked the hall for passers-by then slipped out of her quarters. It wouldn't do for someone to spot her contradicting Beckett's instructions—a condition of release, really—to rest in quarters. She hurried to the nearest transporter and punched the symbol for the lower levels. When the door opened, she stepped out with a casual glance at the two Marines standing guard.

"Gentlemen, I'm here to see Michael." She started past them.

The nearest Marine stepped between her and the door. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. Colonel Sheppard left strict orders not to let anyone in with the prisoner."

"Yes, but who is my team leader?

"Colonel Sheppard, Ma'am."

"Correct. Who do you suppose sent me to check on...the prisoner?" Teyla crossed her arms and matched the Marine's stance.

"Colonel Sheppard?" The Marine asked as he reached for his radio. "Give me one minute to confirm-" The Marine let go of the radio. "As you wish." His unblinking eyes held hers until he resumed his position to the left of the door.

Teyla glanced at the second Marine, but the man ignored her presence. She nodded at the first Marine. "Thank you." She waved open the door and walked inside.

The door slid closed behind her with a solid snick. Michael stood in the center of the cell, hands fisted by his sides. Someone had provided him with fresh sweat pants and a black tee shirt. His biceps flexed, pulling the short sleeves taunt as his fists pumped open and closed.

"Teyla."

"Michael."

"Am I to assume you discussed my request for assistance with Colonel Sheppard and Dr. Weir?" Michael stepped closer to the bars, his eyes on hers.

"I did. They are concerned for the safety of their people if they were to set you free." Teyla moved up a step. "They do not believe you will keep Atlantis a secret."

"You told them I would. They did not believe you." At her nod, he continued, "Yet they allow you to visit without escort?" Michael tilted his head to the side. "They do not know you are here."

"No."

"How did you get past the guards?"

Teyla shrugged. "Wraith gifts."

Michael's lips twitched and his fists relaxed. "They fear me when they should fear you. I resent being imprisoned." He trailed his fingers along the force field surrounding the cell, sending energy waves rippling outward, dissipating into invisible wrinkles in time. His face fell when she did not respond. "Why did you come?"

"I felt I should be the one to explain your options." Teyla averted her eyes. She felt certain he would not accept her offer.

"Teyla, look at me. Please."

She raised her head and sighed. "Take the retrovirus." She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to protest. "It is not what you think. Carson designed a new retrovirus specifically for you. He calls it Retrovirus-M. This strain will make you human, but you will retain your memories. The choice is yours. Take the retrovirus and remain here until Colonel Sheppard feels you are no longer a threat to Atlantis, or you may live out the remainder of your life as a caged hybrid, accepted by no one."

Michael surprised her. He did not rage. He did not turn away. He blinked once then locked eyes with her.

She felt his breezy mental caress, muted by the force field, but potent in its simplicity. She opened her mind and allowed the contact.

"Teyla... I cannot live in a cage."

She raised a brow. "The force field..."

"Is ineffective between our two minds."

"Are you able to reach out to the others?"

"Only you."

"Michael, take the retrovirus. Remain on Atlantis."

"There is another choice. You have only to-"

"I cannot set you free."

"Then you condemn me to death. Will you visit, Teyla, or will you abandon me to merciless insanity?"

"I am your friend. You need friends, Michael. Once they feel certain of your loyalty, the Atlanteans will not abandon you. I will not abandon you."

"No, instead you wish me to abandon myself because you cannot accept my true identity. By rejecting me, you reject yourself. We are alike, Teyla, whether or not you acknowledge the truth." Michael turned and strode to the rear of the cell and stood with arms crossed, his face averted.

Teyla felt him slip away, the chilly sensation of his thoughts faded into nothing. "Michael..." She reached for him, but found no answering receptors.

"Leave me." Michael's flat voice pierced the silence.

Teyla studied him for a moment. He may have blocked his mind, but she felt his frustration thick in the air. "I shall do as you ask, but I will return. Please consider our offer. It is the only viable way to resolve your dilemma."

His back flexed at her words. His snort of laughter held no humor. "There is another option, one I'm sure Ronon would be happy to exact." He turned his head enough that she captured his expression of resolve tinged with regret. "He may grant me absolution."

"No. I will not allow it." She moved around the cage with measured steps. "Michael, you must be rational. Life on Atlantis is not without its trials, but the people care for one another. In time you will find your place among the expedition members."

"Would you have me join your team? Hunt and kill Wraith? You cannot expect me to turn against my own kind." His eyes flashed. "Could you do the same, Teyla?"

"Have you not already turned against the Wraith? Their rejection left you no choice." She headed for the door, pausing with her hand over the sensor. "Our offer is the only way to ensure your survival. Think about it."

"I could say the same to you. Set me free, Teyla. Do it for us." Michael drifted to the front of the cell, golden eyes luminous against his skin.

"Us? We are but friends."

"We are more than friends. Our bond is unique."

She gasped. She hadn't felt the frigid sensation of possession as their minds joined. "I did not agree to connect this way."

"Subconsciously, your mind recognizes that I am no threat even as your conscious self hides from me."

"In the future, please seek my permission before communicating in this manner. If the others knew, it would endanger any chance for successful resolution of your situation."

"You would not divulge our secret; exposing me as a security risk exposes you as well. Your life in Atlantis would cease."

"When Colonel Sheppard comes to discuss your future, I pray to the Ancestors that you are wise in your choice." She spun on her heel and swiped her hand over the door control. When the door whooshed open, she dashed past the oblivious guards and entered the nearest transporter, feeling Michael's echo fade as she transported away from the cell.

Sheppard took the stairs two at a time and entered the control room, shaking the damp from his freshly showered hair. "What happened, Radek?"

Radek Zelenka studied the monitor and rubbed a hand over his chin. "It is all quite strange, Colonel. I don't know the cause, but we've had two power spikes in the force field around Michael's cell. Diagnostics are negative. Perhaps Rodney could help-"

"Not an option. Carson released him with strict instructions not to strain himself with work. Besides, we wouldn't want him to realize how needed he is around here, would we. Did you radio the guards?"

"Yes. Neither responded." Zelenka frowned at the monitor. "There it goes again, another spike in the force field."

"I'm overdue for a visit with Michael. I'll head down there, check it out. You keep an eye on those power levels." Sheppard loped down the stairs and tapped his radio as he hit the hallway running. "Ronon, this is Sheppard. You got a minute, buddy?"

"Need me to kill your pet Wraith?" Ronon asked through the com-link.

Sheppard jumped into the transporter and slapped a hand against the panel. "No, but something's rotten in Michael-Ville. Meet me at the holding cell; and set your weapon to stun."

"On my way."

McKay slipped up behind Zelenka and peered over his shoulder. "What did you do, Radek?"

Zelenka jerked away from the keyboard and clamored out of his chair. "Rodney. What are you doing out of bed?"

"What, I can't stop in and check on things on my way back from the mess hall?" McKay asked as he bent over the laptop, reading the calculations and statistics as they flashed on the screen. "I repeat, what did you do?"

Zelenka shoved his glasses closer to his eyes and stepped forward, his hands gesticulating as he spoke. "It is nothing I can't handle. You should return to bed."

"I will, as soon as I fix whatever it is you broke. What did you do to cause the spikes in Michael's force field?" McKay hooked the chair with his left food and tugged it closer, sinking into it without looking. He tapped the keys in a rapid tempo, squinting at the screen.

"Nothing. I did nothing wrong." Zelenka hovered behind the chair and shot glances at the doorway. "The force field spiked on its own. The guards did not respond to our request for a status report, so Colonel Sheppard went to investigate. I remained behind to monitor the power levels and await further instructions from the Colonel."

"Did you run a system scan?" McKay scowled at the data displayed before him. "Ah, yes, I see that you did. Well, that is encouraging. Now, let the expert run a full diagnostic. A little mystery ripe for solving; just what the doctor ordered to cure a bored astrophysicist."

"I believe the doctor ordered bed rest, but it is your ass Carson will chew if he catches you working, not mine." Zelenka crossed his arms and peered at McKay over the top of his glasses.

McKay turned, caught the worry lines on Zelenka's brow, and swallowed the ever-present insult. "I'm fine, Radek. Let me do this. Genius and insanity are neighbors, ergo a short leap from one to the other, and malingering in bed pushes me closer to the edge."

Zelenka nodded but looked unhappy. McKay refocused on the computer. His world narrowed; sound faded as the numbers danced. The mathematical calculations soothed his ills, nectar to his starving intellect. For the first time since awakening in the infirmary, he felt at peace. His chest rattled when he breathed, caused by his allergies and a touch of Athosian flu and his body trembled in feverish reaction, but he pushed his symptoms to the background, instead focusing on the dilemma at hand. Beckett's medicine may have staved off death, but science proved his salvation. The computer beeped, ending his reverie. He read the diagnostic output.

"Huh."

"You have solved the mystery, yes?" Zelenka rubbed his chin and leaned forward.

"No."

"No?"

"No." McKay tapped a few more keys then sighed and pushed away from the desk, swaying as he stood. Steadying hands gripped his arms, and he blinked at Zelenka. "The diagnostic was normal."

"Perhaps now you will rest?" Zelenka asked.

"Ah, that I will." McKay grimaced as Zelenka released him. "I forwarded the diagnostic report to my laptop. I'll review the data from my quarters." He held up a hand when Zelenka's mouth opened. "No arguments. Work relaxes me." When Zelenka didn't look convinced, McKay continued, "It's your choice. I work in quarters, or remain here...with you." McKay felt a tickle in the back of his throat and turned his head, coughing into his right elbow. He cleared his throat to dislodge the phlegm.

"Quarters it is. Take this with you." Zelenka gathered a stack of papers from the desk and stuffed them into McKay's hands then nudged him toward the door. "Routine scans from throughout the morning. Maybe they'll help. Now go, before Carson catches you out of bed. Besides, you're probably contagious; I don't want to contract your illness. Get out of here."

Sheppard exited the transporter and came face to face with the two guards. The closest Marine stumbled back two steps and raised glassy eyes and his P90, aiming both at Sheppard's chest. Sheppard lunged for the P90, slamming his arm against the other man's throat and pinning him against the wall.

"Billings, what the hell are you doing?" He trained his sidearm on the second Marine. "Freeze, Jenkins."

"Colonel?" Billings shook his head and blinked three times in rapid succession. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me." He released Billings and stepped back, clapping the Marine on the shoulder. He glanced at Jenkins, flipped on the safety, and seated his weapon in his thigh holster. "Dr. Zelenka recorded several spikes in the force field around the holding cell. He called on the radio, but neither of you responded. Why?"

Billings rubbed at his throat, sharing a confused look with Jenkins. "I never heard Doc Z call. Are communications down?" He reached for his radio, squeezed the button twice, breaking squelch. "So much for that theory."

Sheppard waved a hand at the closed door to the holding room. "Anything unusual happen in there? Any visitors?"

"No, Sir," Billings replied. "It's been quiet."

Jenkins turned, startled, when the transporter slid open and Ronon emerged, Satedan pistol gripped in his right hand.

"Everything okay?" Ronon asked.

"Okay is a relative term." Sheppard pointed at Ronon's weapon. "Stun, right?"

"Yeah." Ronon's lip curled in a cruel grimace. "For now."

"Good. Let's go speak to our boy." Sheppard turned and thought open the door, raising an eyebrow at Ronon's snort.

"He's your boy, not mine." Ronon disappeared into the holding room.

"Lucky for you, I'm a nice guy. We'll share." Sheppard grinned as he followed Dex through the doorway.

TBC

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. RL has left me little time of late to write. I have this story mapped out, with some parts written and other parts pending. Hopefully, RL will settle down so I can write away my spare hours. grins