Under the Skin

by gategeeks

An accident with Ancient technology puts Beckett and McKay a little closer in touch with the Ancients than they originally anticipated, but will they survive the encounter? Told from Rodney and Carson's POV. Gen fic cowritten by SGC Gategirl & Girrlkitty

4. Chapter 4

Under the Skin – Chapter 4

Carson reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment. Together, he and Radek had spent the last hour and a half combing the database for information on how the brain-wave alteration worked and how Durand's device was supposed to fit into the events that had transpired. And so far, they didn't have much. He was getting frustrated, especially knowing he would have to stop soon, take a break and return to the infirmary for another dose of drugs, when he wanted to stay and work until they solved the problem.

In the next room over, he could hear the low murmur of voices, the Colonel and Elizabeth going over the non-technical, non-medical information, trying to find more information about the 'project' and Durand's role in it.

He looked back up, re-focusing his eyes on the screen in front of him. Radek was going over the technical specifications, and he was examining all the medical and genetic information they could find. A quick glance showed Radek absorbed in his own screen, one hand making his already-wild hair stand on end even more.

"Found anything useful yet, lad?" He needed to break the silence, even for a moment, before diving back in.

Radek glanced up, his eyes focusing a moment later. "There is much information to go through."

"Aye, I know. Anything look promising though?"

Pulling off his glasses he rubbed the heel of his hand on his face before returning the spectacles to their usual perch. "The device, it seems, was very simple. Not in it's structure or design, but in it's intended use. It was to work like most Ancient technology that keys, or locks to its user. Much like the small shield device."

"But? I hear a but in your voice, and something tells me I will'na like it."

"The device should never have accepted a memory imprint like we suspect it did."

Carson thought about that for a moment, putting that together with what he had been able to discover about how the Ancient's had messed with Durand and the other scientists' brain waves. "Radek, it shouldn't have accepted a memory imprint from a regular Ancient. But how did it work? Could the alterations to Durand specifically, this programming nonsense, have made a difference? Or do you think it was purely a mechanical malfunction?"

Radek shook his head slowly. "I do not think so. The device should have been keyed to a specific individual, nothing more. The device itself was not powerful enough to do more. It was only a remote trigger for the weapon on Doranda."

Carson stared at him. "So, it wasn't the device that caused Durand to be...downloaded and stored for retrieval? But how did it happen then? How did he get trapped in there?"

"I might have an answer for you."

Carson swiveled around, seeing John and Elizabeth walking in, both looking a bit sick. "What do you mean?"

"How much has Durand said about what was going on, about what he remembers last?" Sheppard asked, leaning a hip on the workbench.

Carson quickly replayed his last conversation in his head. "He was almost done with that device of his, but it was only part of a larger project. A trigger for something that was designed to wipe out the galaxy—the old, 'if I can't have it no one can' mentality. I think he remembers being in his lab, trying to finish as the Wraith were closing in. But the last few moments, he doesn't have."

"Actually, it seems that's only partially true," Elizabeth said, moving a few steps closer. "From what we've been able to piece together, he was part of a…special project to fix some of the mistakes the Ancients had created, the Wraith being one of the bigger ones. The weapon on Doranda was initially only supposed to be used to fight off the Wraith, but had been altered to do much more. The official reports never covered the 'much more' aspect because aside from this small group, no one else knew."

"Wait, you mean there was some sort of rogue faction sabotaging the Doranda weapon? They wanted it to blow up, to destroy..." Knowing how much had been destroyed in the explosion when Rodney had failed to fix it, and how guilt-stricken he had been— "Wait, so first the Ancient scientists who built it, then Rodney, were doomed to fail from the start because a few people in power decided to abuse it?"

Sheppard winced. "It seems that way. But, there's more."

"There always is, isn't there?" He sighed.

The Colonel held his gaze for a moment before glancing away. "Yeah. Always." He paused for a moment before he began again. "Durand was right about the Wraith. They were on the ground, attacking the people, but from the reports, it seems that they had one goal in mind: destroying the weapon. Seems they'd gotten wind of the official story. I'd hate to see what would have happened if they knew the truth."

Knowing how relentless the Wraith could be when irritated, Carson blanched a bit. "That's why the city around the base was all but destroyed, nothing left alive there..."

"More or less. Whatever the Wraith didn't destroy, the weapon did when they finally test-fired it. Durand, though, was killed in his lab while he was working on the remote device. It took a while, but the Wraith finally managed to find him."

Carson shook his head, confused. "There was an explosion of some sort, I felt it, felt the panic knowing something was wrong. But you're saying the Wraith killed him. And that doesn't answer how he ended up in that device."

"They were using energy devices, correct?" Radek asked, turning to the Colonel.

He shrugged. "Probably."

"That initial blast that killed Durand may have provided just enough energy—a single burst of energy—at the same time as his death."

With a sigh, Carson shook his head. It never ceased to amaze him that things like this could happen. Everything happening at just the right—or wrong—time to set off an event that by all rights never should have happened. He looked over at Radek. "All right we know what happened now. Any ideas on how we can reverse it?"

He shook his head, eyes wide. "I did not think it possible of happening in the first place, let alone re-creating the event."

"What about you?" Sheppard asked. "Have you been able to make heads or tails of anything?"

Carson shook his head, depression setting in. "Nothing that will help. Everything I've come across suggests they never progressed beyond figuring out how to alter brainwaves. They weren't interested in reversing any imprints once they had been made, so they did'na bother to see if it could be done, much less how to do it." He trailed off.

After a brief moment of silence, Elizabeth, who had remained in the background watching, voiced what none of them wanted to say. "We have no way of getting Durand out of Rodney."

Carson looked up, met her eyes. "No, lass, I don't know of any way to force him out."

"That's not what I want to hear." The Colonel's voice was hard, rough.

"Trust me, I don't either. But if we can't force him out... Radek, you know how Durand got stuck in that bloody device. Could you re-create it? If he was willing, maybe..."

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I would need Rodney. He knows the most about these systems and how they interact."

"And from your last conversation with him," Elizabeth said, "it doesn't seem like Durand would be willing to help us."

Carson's shoulders hunched forward. "I know. But I don't have any other ideas."

"Are you sure there's no trigger to release Durand from his programming?" Sheppard asked after nearly a minute of silence. "Even when…we program someone, there's always an override. Something."

"He doesn't seem to think so." Carson started to deny it, but remembered something he'd seen in the in the database. "Wait..." he said, taping at the keys to bring the information up that he recalled. "Here. Radek, look at this." He turned his laptop around, showing the Czech the blueprints for a small device.

Radek adjusted the glasses on his nose, examining the file. "I do not recognize this."

"My Ancient isn't great, but if I'm translating right, it seems like this was a design for a medical prototype of some sort. And it's in with the files and records for the programming experiments, so maybe it's relevant."

Elizabeth moved toward Radek, glancing over his shoulder. It took a few moments, but she was nodding. "It was supposed to be a…way to adjust the programming. I think that's what it says. The scientific translations are the hardest to understand."

"Then that's where we need to start." Carson stood up, planning to move around the desk where he could look over Radek's shoulders. He was a bit surprised when his legs folded under him, and he ended up back in his seat. But he didn't have time to stop right now. "Pass me the medical information. While you try to build it, I'll figure out how to work it."

"Actually," Sheppard said, glancing at his watch. "Why don't we look and you check in with Doctor Biro"?

"We're running out of time, Colonel." He grabbed the laptop back from Radek, who had finished downloading the specifications into his own machine. He immediately tuned out the world around him, focusing on reading the notes that came up as fast as the translation program now running could feed it to him.

Suddenly, the chair he was in was pulled away from the desk and he found himself face-to-face with Elizabeth. "That was not a suggestion. John will make sure you get to the infirmary and back in as little time as possible."

"Gah..." He was a bit startled. "Elizabeth, I have work to do. This can't wait." He tried to pull away, move the chair back to the desk.

Sheppard, still hanging onto the back of the chair, leaned down. "Play nice or Doctor Biro might make you stay home."

Carson grumbled, trying to think up a good excuse John would actually accept, but nothing came to mind. So he tried blackmail instead. "You know, pushy people sometimes find themselves in situations where more needles are necessary during otherwise routine examinations."

"I'll make sure to mention that to Biro," he said, grabbing an arm and levering Carson upright.

His eyes widened, as he gave up and let the man help him up. "You wouldn't!"

"You'd be surprised at what I'd do, Doc. Very surprised," Sheppard replied, his voice quiet, serious.

Startled, he threw the Colonel a cautious look, the quickly averted his eyes. "Ah, well, um, lets just be going then, shall we? I really do need to get back to the notes if I'm going to be able to work it by the time Radek puts it together."

"Good plan, Beckett. Good plan."

He swallowed, and allowed himself to be helped into the wheelchair. He hated being this weak. "Aye, lets just get this over with," he grumbled.

John stepped behind and began maneuvering them out of the science lab. "We'll be back in about half and hour if Beckett behaves."

"Beckett is right here, and you can stop talking about him as if he were a wee baby."

"Maybe if he wasn't behaving like one I'd have a little less trouble," Sheppard muttered, heading down the hallway to the transporter.

"Hmph. Maybe if pushy Air Force Colonels weren't so intent on having their own way, it wouldn't be a problem."

"I'm I going to have to tell mom?"

"No no, that's okay!" He said quickly. The last think he wanted was to be confined to the infirmary again. That didn't mean he couldn't be surly about the whole thing though. "Who taught you to play so dirty?"

"You did."

"Me?"

"Trust me. You're the best." Sheppard steered into the infirmary when the doors slid open to allow them entrance. Biro was waiting for them, eyeing her watch. "And, I'll leave you in the doctor's capable hands while I go and check on our other patient. I'll be back."

Carson spluttered a bit, but the Colonel was already heading out the door, and there was no way he was going to respond when Biro was standing there watching him. Damn pushy Air Force Colonels. Always had to have the last word.

xxx

Durand heard the door open, but kept his eyes closed determined not to be bothered with these…people. The urge to…do something was getting stronger, but the drugs they were pumping him with kept it just under the surface.

But it tended to keep him in a continuous state of annoyance and frustration. As if the situation wasn't bad enough already.

No one had prepared him for this. This was so far outside his training…

"How's our little mad scientist doing? Feeling better?" The bed bumped a few times as if someone was nudging it.

Durand sighed. It had to be him.

"Come on, I know you're awake. Biro used Carson's notebook of weird drug combinations to stabilize you. It seems Rodney was like an ongoing experiment, with all his allergies and various conditions."

"And, your point? Since I'm assuming you have one."

"Just wanted to see how you're doing. If it was Rodney in charge, he'd be hollering by now about voodoo medicine and malpractice, but you've been quiet."

"There had not been a lot of people to talk to."

"Yeah," John drawled, "most of us are pretty torn. You seem like a nice enough guy, but you are holding our resident genius hostage in his own body. That makes it a bit hard to be buddies."

Durand opened his eyes, turning his head toward John. "So you claim."

The man shrugged, leaning against the edge of the bed, arms crossed. "I'd show you a mirror, but last time that sorta freaked you out a bit." He suddenly looked curious, and a little desperate. "You can't feel him in there at all? He said, when you let him out to play for a bit, that it was like being trapped in a small dark room, with no air and no way out."

"Feel who?"

"Rodney. He's the guy banging on the inside of your head trying to get out."

"No," Durand said, offering a half smile. "It's actually been quite…peaceful in here. Thanks for asking."

John sighed. "He's claustrophobic."

Durand narrowed his eyes. "And this matters to me, why?"

He shrugged. "Why not? You said you wanted conversation."

"And yet you keep bringing up subjects that don't concern me."

"Okay, how about one a little closer to home? You fought them, fought the programming. We found records suggesting they hauled you back in to the lab at least three or four times kicking and screaming."

Durand glanced away, the memory flashing in his mind. "Is that what this is all about? That I did something wrong?"

"Wrong? Trust me, if someone was screwing with my head, I'd be kicking and screaming, too."

"It was always my fault, my fault that it slid, slipped." He paused, tugging at his restraints remembering the last time it happened. It had hurt, just like the first time, but more. Ten times more. He turned his head back, trying to explain. "They tried to help me."

Sheppard shook his head. "They weren't trying to help you, they were trying to break you."

"Nononono," he shook his head, trying to gesture with his trapped hands. "They were trying to fix me, make me better, stronger. After the…" He took a breath. "You're just trying to turn me against them, but you're wrong."

"Want to hear some of the things we found in their notes? 'The stupid bastard won't just accept his fate as a pawn' was about the mildest I saw. And on one of your colleague's files, someone wrote that you were too stupid to live and should be immediately terminated so as not to waste any further resources."

"No…nononono. That can't be true." He turned away, closing his eyes. He knew them. Trusted them. They trusted him.

"They didn't trust you, Durand. If they did, do you really think they would have used radical brain-altering therapies to bend you to their will? Come on, does that sound like trust?"

He turned back to John, his eyes blazing. "And I can trust you? You almost killed me!"

One eyebrow went up. "Okay, I could have shot you at any point and I didn't. I tried to force you to eat a damn PowerBar when I realized what was going on. I even gave you my jacket even though it was freezing out there, and made sure you didn't bang your head on the table. I made sure you got back here fast enough to get treatment, and spent several hours worrying I hadn't been fast enough. But yeah, somehow that all translates to trying to kill you. Sorry if the logic of that escapes me at the moment."

"I don't know what you did to me, what you gave me, but nothing like that has ever happened to me before. Is that how you managed to take Atlantis? Am I the last one? Am I the only one you haven't killed yet?" He paused, narrowing his eyes at John. "And whatever you think you did was probably just to have another go at me, whatever it is you're trying to find out or get from me."

"Yeah, and you've never felt anything like that before because—survey says—because you're in another man's body! Ding ding ding. Now I win the prize." John shook his head. "Look this obviously isn't getting us anywhere and will only piss us both off. Why don't we try a new topic? What would you do if, hypothetically speaking, this burning desire to complete a project and blow up Atlantis was to suddenly disappear?"

This man was nothing but unpredictable. "That wouldn't happen. It couldn't. I have a job to do. It's very important. I—"

"I said hypothetically. Sheesh. Don't get your knickers, as Carson would say, in a bind." He looked at Durand thoughtfully for a moment. "Okay, you're having some trust issues, so I'm going to go out on a limb here and try trusting you a bit. Think you can handle that?"

Durand felt his forehead furrowing. "What do you mean?"

He stared at him for a moment before responding. "We found blueprints and notes for a device that was supposed to reverse the programming, but it was never built, apparently because it was easier to kill a scientist when they were finished with him than give him back his life. Go figure. Anyway, Radek might, and I stress might here, be able to build it from what we have, and if he can Carson can probably figure out how to use it."

"Reverse? Nononononono," he said, panicking a little. "It can't be done. It can't."

"Maybe you're right. They never actually built or tested one, so it might not work. But we thought we'd try."

"Why? Why waste your time on something that's not going to work, that could never work, that couldn't possibly ever work, that—"

"Why not? What do you have to lose? I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you're strapped to a bed at the moment in a stolen body. If it works, great, you get your mind back and then we can have a conversation that doesn't keep looping back on itself. And if not, at least we tried."

"Lose! You can lose everything! Everything we worked so hard to discover, to uncover, to experiment with." Durand's eyes were wide, his breath rough as he tugged and pulled to get his arms free. He didn't understand. Everything could be lost forever.

"Really, we'd lose everything by letting you actually think with your own mind and trusting you a little, instead of ramming something down your throat and forcing you to work how we want you to? Somehow that doesn't seem like losing to me. In fact, the best innovations, the most spectacular results, tend to happen when a brilliant mind is allowed to actually be brilliant, wouldn't you say?"

"No. You need a controlled environment. You need to have procedures and protocols." He paused, glancing around the otherwise empty room. "But you can't understand. You're not a scientist."

John shrugged. "Nope, I'm a soldier. And I totally understand rules and regulations trust me. But procedures and controlled environment is one thing. Its something else when someone tries to make you think how they want you to, react how they want you to. That's not procedure, that's slavery."

"You need control for anything to work right," Durand said, his voice quiet, his eyes focused on the far wall. "Without precise control things…change."

John snorted. "You seem to be confusing 'control' with 'evil person warping your brain.' Those are two different things."

"No," Durand insisted, his voice level. "Control is required. Necessary."

John just shrugged. "Whatever. After we unfry your mind, maybe you'll feel differently."

Durand turned, narrowing his eyes a little, studying the soldier standing beside the bed. "If one of your men decided to do things their way, how would that affect the rest of your…team?"

"I already told you, we have rules and regulations, and I have a healthy respect for them, even if I do break them half the time. But I trust my men to follow orders and yes, even think about them and say something if they disagree. I want to know if someone thinks something is a bad idea and why, cause they might see something I missed. Even if the order stands, at least I know we covered all the bases."

"But if they…disagree repeatedly and disregard your orders, what happens?"

John looked past him, his face going totally blank for a moment. "They get disciplined, are sent to fucking Antarctica, and get resigned to living the rest of their lives with that hanging over their head."

"Would it not be better to have someone who you can think independently, but who is also striving for the same goal? Whose actions you can…predict?"

"No. If that was the case, good men would be dead. Stupid orders are stupid, and sometimes they need to be disobeyed."

Durand shook his head. "My words mean nothing to you I see." He paused, hearing the man beside him shift, but remain silent. He turned, catching John's eyes, holding his gaze. "But you must understand. Even if I had…doubts…they gave me structure, meaning…family, when I had none. They gave me a greater purpose, a way to accomplish something great."

John refocused, his eyes intent. "Oh, I understand better than you think. And I know a lot of people, even ones who aren't brainwashed, who would agree with you. They would rather have mindless drones happy to work and die on command than real people. But you know what? The only people I know who ever accomplished anything worthy of being called great knew the value of independent thought and freedom."

Durand shrugged as much as the restraints allowed. "Then you knew the wrong people, John."

John looked up at a cough from across the room, and nodded his head to a nurse standing in the doorway. Then he turned back to Durand. "Look, I don't really know how much of this is what you really think, and how much is what they wanted you to think. If I had to guess, probably some of both. I'm going to go back up to the labs now, and if luck is on our side, next time we talk there won't be any programming to get in the way at all."

Durand watched as John walked away, knowing what he planned, what he was trying to do. Before he reached the door, though, he called out, not sure why, exactly. "John?"

The soldier stopped, turned around. "Yes?"

He took a breath and discovered he was shaking. "Don't…" He paused, trying to get a breath. "I don't want to die."

John looked at him for a long time before he responded. "Durand, I don't ever leave a man behind, not if there's anything I can do to prevent it."

He nodded once, before turning his head away and closing his eyes, listening as the soldier was led out of the room, leaving him once again with his own thoughts and the silence.

xxx

Carson put his head down on his arms, needing a break. They had been at it for hours, the only breaks the quick trips down to the infirmary for the drugs that kept him going. Doctor Biro had already warned him she wouldn't give him any more today. He heard Sheppard snoring lightly in the corner. He had finally fallen asleep right after the last run, and Carson was in no hurry to wake him. The man needed sleep badly, not to mention he should have turned in for the night hours ago. He was a bit surprised no one had come looking for him, but they were busy, and had probably forgotten for the moment.

He heard Radek's typing, the steady rhythm starting to lull him a bit. The man was seemingly tireless, still going strong despite the fact that it was almost two in the morning.

They were getting closer. The last time they had updated each other, Radek had been close, nearly ready to build a prototype. He was trying to locate all the components they would need, scouring the database for devices that might be useful for parts.

Carson was pretty sure he knew now what it was supposed to do, and how it worked. It would require the gene, which meant it would probably have to be himself or John that used it. He would fight that battle when it became necessary.

"Carson?" Teyla's voice was quiet, her hand light on his shoulder. "Should you not be in bed?"

He jumped, not having heard her come in. "Teyla, lass, what are you still doing up? You need to get some sleep."

"As do you," she said, smiling gently. "With a few hours of sleep you will feel better."

"I'll be all right." He returned her smile. "We're getting closer to having something that might work. I want to be here."

"Have you not spoken to Doctor McKay of the dangers of working while not getting sufficient rest? Elizabeth is speaking to Doctor Zelenka as well," she said, indicating a similar conversation occurring a little ways away. Ronon had managed to get Sheppard on his feet, the half-asleep man moving only because of the Satedan's insistence.

Carson eyed the Colonel for a moment, hoping he stayed half-asleep and unaware of the time. Then he sighed. "Aye, I know you're right, but..."

"But you must rest."

He looked at the screen, the words blurring before his eyes. "Rodney doesn't get to take a break. He would'na stop if it was one of us."

"Yes, he would," she argued, her words kind. "You would make sure he rested, even if it were for a few hours. You are a good friend to him and he needs you to be alert and awake to rescue him."

Guilt made him jerk a bit at her words, since him attempting to drug Rodney to force him to rest was what had started this whole mess. "I..."

"Rest, please. He would want you to."

He gave in, knowing she was right. "Lass, I... My quarters. They're close to the infirmary. Can we go there?"

Teyla smiled, helping him to his feet. "Doctor Zelenka and Colonel Sheppard are also going to their quarters. It is more…restful than a cot in the labs or a bed in the infirmary. Doctor Biro agreed."

"Thank God..." He suddenly blushed; he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

She chuckled lightly, propelling him forward while keeping a firm grip on his arm. Sheppard was complaining about being manhandled, but Ronon ignored him, his low, rough voice as he grumbled a response.

He stumbled slightly, pleased to note that his legs were at least holding him, even though he was leaning on Teyla heavily. The lass was stronger than she looked. As he let himself be ushered out, he suddenly remembered Ronon and stopped short. "Oh my god. How is Ronon? His stitches... I have'na even checked on him..."

"He is fine. Your staff has made sure he is well taken care of. Now, hush."

"No, I should have... I can't believe I..."

"He is fine," she repeated, her voice strong. They stepped into the transporter alcove and moments later were in the wing of Atlantis that held their sleeping quarters.

He slumped, unable to respond. He let her lead him to his room, his mind suddenly whirling. What kind of doctor was he, to just forget a patient like that?

"And Doctor McKay is more…important right now. Ronon does not feel slighted," she said as she deposited him on his bed.

"Nae..." He stared off into space. How could he have let this happen? He really wasn't fit for this position was he? Not if he forgot his patients, forgot to even ask how they were doing...

"If you are still…concerned, speak to Ronon in the morning. I am sure he will explain it to you personally. Until then," she said, reaching the door. "Sleep well."

He closed his eyes, managing a nod and a weak smile as he leaned back in bed. He would fix his mistake with Rodney, then... Well, then he would see.

xxx

Radek had finally kicked everyone but essential personnel out of the lab hours ago. Essential included Carson, Radek himself, and Sheppard because no amount of swearing in Czech had made the man leave.

Carson was still tired—they had all gotten about four hours of sleep before making their way back to the device. Doctor Biro had cornered him this morning, pleased to see he was at least mobile on his own without drugs. Though truth be known he would have preferred to have them, since they helped with the weariness, but he wasn't about to ask. After a full exam and warnings that he would, under pains of death, report to her for checkups at least a few times throughout the day, she had cleared him to work with Radek.

He had run into Ronon coming out of his own exam, and had nearly managed to get out before the other man noticed him. But apparently he was a lot more observant than he let on—or he had heard Carson the night before when they had been carted off to bed—and hadn't let him get away without making it clear he was okay with the whole situation. All fine and dandy he was okay with it, which did make Carson breathe a little easier. It did not, however, do anything for his guilt at forgetting the man, but no one else had to know that.

A sudden exclamation made him look up, and he saw Sheppard standing up from the wall he had been leaning against.

"I think Radek might be done," the Colonel drawled, his chin indicating the Czech.

"Aye, that sounded like happy gibberish, not frustrated gibberish."

Sheppard smiled and nodded, shoving off the wall to approach the scientist, who glanced up even before they were close.

"It is done."

Carson pushed himself up and made his way to join the other two staring down at the device on the table. "All right, we know someone with the gene has to work it. Once we verify that it's operational, we can go test it." He reached out as he spoke, grabbing for the tiny device.

Radek glared at him.

Carson hesitated. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Seeing if I can turn it on, then going down to the infirmary."

"No," Sheppard cut in. "I'll be the one turning anything on that needs turning on, especially strange new devices."

"You have'na spent the last twenty-four hours learning how to use the thing, Colonel. I'll have a good idea about how it's supposed to work."

"Which is why you'll walk me through it and then fix me in case it manages to break something." Sheppard glared at him, his hands on his hips.

"Nae." His brogue was getting stronger as he got more irritated. "I did the work, I'm the one with the degree in this field. I'm the one who's gonna use the damn thing."

"And if it breaks you? No. Absolutely not."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "You din'na trust Radek not to create something that will backfire?"

"Nothing Ancient has ever worked exactly as we expected and I need to make sure you're in one piece so you can fix Rodney." He paused, drawing a hand over his face. "And I think you're going to need all of your strength to do that."

"All the more reason I should have an idea of how it feels, how it works in practice rather than theory. I understand, Colonel, I do, but I will'na have my first test be on a live patient, and we don't know how many times this thing can be used before it runs out of power."

"Beckett—"

He set his jaw, not willing to give in on this one. "It has to be me."

"Do I not get say in this?" Radek asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two arguing men.

"No. You din'na have the gene, and you din'na have a medical degree either."

Radek narrowed his eyes. "Then perhaps I should mention that it is already keyed to a specific individual."

Carson felt his head whip around, and was advancing on the scientist before he realized what he was doing. "Who?"

Radek stood his ground. "I happen to agree with Colonel Sheppard, however, I was forced to…cobble together this device from technology we already had on hand, including a small sensor. I did not believe we had the time to create a key from scratch."

"Who?"

Radek sighed, looking at Beckett. "You."

He slumped, relieved. "Thank God."

Sheppard looked angry. "Why didn't you mention this before?"

Radek shrugged. "Perhaps it is because you did not permit me to."

"It doesn't matter. I was'na going to let you use it anyway." He moved back to the table, picking the device up. For what it was supposed to do, it seemed far too small.

"Careful," Radek said, stepping alongside. "I do not know what it might do if you accidentally set it off on someone…not programmed."

"Trust me, I don't plan to make any more mistakes," he said absently, as he examined it, going over all the notes he had found in his head before he attempted to turn it on.

"Beckett?" Sheppard was at his side, glancing down at him, an unidentified expression on his face.

"Hmmm?" He wasn't paying much attention to them. Turning it over, he found the small switch he had seen in the diagram—the "on" button so to speak.

"Do you actually know what you're doing?"

He pointed the thing at the table, making sure there wasn't anything important that could be damaged if something went wrong. "What? Hang on." He flipped the switch and gave the mental command to start up, gratified when tiny lights appeared on top.

"Beckett…" Sheppard growled, the tone full of warning.

Satisfied that it was doing something, and hoping it was doing what they wanted it to. He told it to power down, and flipped the switch to make sure he didn't do anything accidentally. Then he looked up, a bit surprised by the Colonel's expression. "What's wrong?"

Sheppard shook his head, muttering something about stubborn doctors under his breath. "Will this work?"

"It's doing something. The only way to know for sure now is to try it." He looked at John carefully. "Did you get enough sleep last night lad? You look a bit out of sorts."

"Just worried. Whatever we do, it's to Rodney's body."

Carson closed his eyes, fear and guilt flickering across his face briefly. "Aye. But we can'na do anything until Durand stops trying to finish this device of his. I can'na do anything for Rodney until we deal with that."

"I know. It's just that every time I look at him….but then I talk to him…" Sheppard shook his head.

"He wasn't an evil man. I...I don't think I can simply kill him off, even if there was a way to do it. Although it is just plain eerie to hear those words coming out of Rodney's mouth, without any of his usual sarcasm or wild gestures."

"Yes," Sheppard nodded. "Sometimes it sounds exactly like him, but other times…" He sighed. "Are we ready to get the show on the road? And does Biro need to know we're coming? Durand got pretty upset when I mentioned the possibility of reversing the whole 'one-track mentality' persona he has going."

"Let's not postpone this any longer than necessary. You can brief Lindsay while I explain what's going to happen to Durand. It would'na surprise me if the programming tries to protect itself, so expect him to panic. I'll do this as quickly as I can to spare him as much pain as possible."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sheppard asked. "Can't we…I don't know, knock him out?"

"No. I want to tell him what's coming. He might fight it at first, but once the hold of the program starts to break, he may be able to fight it, help its demise along. We already know he managed to break it on his own a few times. Once I give him a few cracks, he might well break the whole thing without any extra help."

"Then let's get this show on the road."

xxx

Durand knew something was happening. It was hard to ignore the "hit you over the head" signs.

Two of the largest orderlies had entered a while ago, not long after he'd finally fallen asleep, and had gotten to work re-arranging everything in the room—loudly. Doctor Biro entered not long after, removing the feeding tube she'd inserted the day before and sliding a little something extra in to the IV line without offering any explanation.

Something was going on.

The orderlies finally turned their attention to him, loosening the chest restraint and lowering the head of the bed until it was completely flat—even removing the sorry excuse of a pillow. Everything was tightened down and adjusted once again, a final restraint over his knees finishing off things.

But through it all, no one would answer his questions or even acknowledge him in any way which only made his anxiety skyrocket.

What was going on?

He heard them enter, the sound of several people—shuffling feet, rustling clothing, the low hush of conversation—echoing in the large, cavernous room. He could barely see the door from where he was, could only listen and wait.

He wasn't surprised to see Becektt and John finally edge into his view, both wearing serious expressions. There were others behind them—he spotted the man with wildly unruly hair just beyond John's shoulder—but knew there were others.

He locked his gaze with John, letting the man see his terror, his fear. "You promised."

John reached out and patted his hand awkwardly. "We aren't going to kill you or hurt you. If this works they way we hope it will, it should allow us to give you a little more freedom of movement."

"No one will tell me what's happening," he said, his nervousness speeding up his thoughts, his speech, even with the drugs. He tugged at the restraints needing to get away.

Carson laid the back of his hand on Durand's forehead, his voice soothing. "That's what I'm here for." He held up a small device with his other hand. "John already told you we found the plans for a machine to reverse the programming they put you though. Radek," He gestured towards the wild-haired man, "managed to put one together. I...don't like a first test of any equipment to be on a live patient, but in this case we don't have much choice. I don't know if it will hurt. I promise if there's anything I can do to prevent pain, I will. That's why we gave you a light sedative, if there is pain, hopefully that will dull it a bit."

"Reverse? Wait! Nononononononononono," he said, pulling now, trying to get out, get away, his eyes wide. "You can't! It's not possible! You can't!" His voice was rising, both in volume and pitch, edging toward hysteria. "You can't do that! John," he said shifting his gaze to the soldier, "you promised me! You promised!"

John flinched. "I promised we'd do what we can to help you. I think, I hope, you'll agree once your mind is free of the blasted programming, that this is the best thing we could do."

Carson swallowed hard, then did something to the device, making lights come on. He reached over, aiming it at Durand. "Here goes nothing."

It hurt.

Oh, God, did it hurt.

He could feel it in his muscles, his bones right to the marrow. He knew he screamed; he could feel the strain on his throat, the raw, rough edges.

Even as his body protested, muscles locking, convulsing, he could hear them in the distance, could hear the voice in his head that kept him from falling completely apart, the one that unlocked his mind and let everything out.

He sobbed when the pain finally released him. "Oh, God," he whispered, his body still shaking as darkness descended.

xxx

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…" Carson wasn't aware that he was speaking out loud, as he backed away from the bed. The screaming had stopped when Durand passed out, and Carson let the device fall from his fingers. He didn't even know if it had worked.

"Carson? Beckett?" Sheppard's hands were on his shoulders, holding him, shaking him slightly.

"Oh my god oh my god..." What had he done? What if they had made a mistake and this killed both Durand and Rodney?

"Beckett, snap out of it! Did it work? What the hell just happened? Biro! Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?"

He felt his legs give out, he couldn't stand any more. "I don't know, I don't know if it worked. I felt that he was in pain... oh my god the pain..."

"Biro's checking him out now. He's breathing. He just looks like he's out cold," Sheppard said, easing him into a chair, his hands never leaving his upper arms. "Are you okay?"

He was alive. He hadn't killed him. He felt the shudders wracking his body and he didn't have the energy to try and stop them. "As soon as I turned it on, I could feel... not his pain, but that he was in...it was like I was ripping open his mind..."

"Carson?" John asked, worry and something else in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do that again, if I can do that to someone... I had to tear his mind apart to put it back together. Colonel, if it didn't work I don't think..." He put his head down in his hands.

"You might not have to," Biro said quietly. "He's coming around."

"Oh god..." He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to pull it together.

He could hear Durand groaning as he came around, the bed squeaking a little as he moved. "Ugh."

Pushing himself up, Carson took another deep breath, mentally preparing himself for whatever might happen next. He hoped. "Durand? Lad, how are you feeling?"

"Don't" he said, one eye opening, his voice quiet, but his tone was unmistakable, "do that again. Please."

Carson shuddered again. "Believe me, I very much hope I never have to do anything like that ever again to anyone."

"Good," he said, closing his eye and taking a shuddering breath.

Carson fell back on old habits, needing to do something. He gently wrapped his hand around Durand's wrist, counting the heartbeats. He really hadn't killed him.

"So?" Sheppard asked finally, quietly.

Carson released Durand's wrist slowly, reluctant to ask, since he was terrified it hadn't worked. "Other than the pain, how are you feeling?" He asked carefully.

It took a minute before Durand answered, turning his head to the side and opening his eyes. Carson could still see the pain at the edges. "Okay, I think."

"Any urges to go work on projects or harm Atlantis?"

Durand closed his eyes and nearly a minute passed before he opened them once again. "While I would like to do something to break up the sheer boredom of the last few days…I don't think…the pain to go and finish isn't there." He paused again, forehead creasing a little. "It's sore. I know something's gone, but…"

"Oh, thank god..." Carson sagged a bit against the bed before composing himself again. "Then that's enough for now. Let Lindsay give you something to help with the pain. Anything else can wait until you feel a bit better."

"Can I get up?"

Sheppard coughed to get both men's attention. "One thing at a time, all right? You say you don't feel the urge to hurt my city or my people any more, but I have to be sure." He looked apologetic. "Tell you what though, promise to be good, and I'll have Biro remove the chest and knee straps, and loosen the others so you can move a bit. Once I'm sure you aren't an immediate risk, I'll authorize a bit more freedom. Not to mention we still need to have a long chat about Rodney and what we're going to do about this. Deal?"

Durand nodded slowly, his voice still quiet, rough. "Okay."

The Colonel nodded to Biro, and several orderlies came in to make Durand more comfortable.

Carson closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the quiet, efficient work. They were one step closer to getting Rodney back. One step closer to this whole thing being over. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find Durand watching him. "I…I'm sorry I had to hurt you."

"You're not the first and you won't be the last," Durand said quietly, his eyes turning to focus on the ceiling as the medics worked around him.

"That doesn't make it okay. They didn't have the right to hurt you in the first place and I... If I had known how much pain it would cause, I'm not sure I would have used it."

He shrugged, the loosening of the bond giving him a little more room to move. "You meant well, I know that. I'm used to the pain."

Carson shook his head. "Nae, that's not how it's supposed to work. Doctors are supposed to ease pain, not cause it, no matter how well meaning. No one should have to 'get used to' pain."

Durand shrugged again, not answering.

Carson let out a long sigh, reaching over to squeeze Durand's shoulder lightly. Looking up, he saw Doctor Biro with a syringe, and knew it was the pain medication. "Lad, we're going to give you something to help you rest. It will make you sleep, and in a few hours we can talk more."

He nodded, closing his eyes, his body slumping deeper into the mattress, the muscles finally relaxing as the medicine reached him. A long, shuddering breath and Durand was asleep.

Carson stared at him for a moment, suddenly very tired. He knew he should go get some rest, but found he didn't have the will to move at the moment. Raising his eyes, he caught Sheppard's gaze. "This was a step forward I suppose."

The Colonel nodded, face thoughtful. "We should probably figure out what we plan to do next. We can't leave him in there."

"I know." He let his eyes drift back to Durand's—Rodney's—face. "Maybe now that he isn't so driven, we can reason with him, find a way to get him out without killing them both."

"Whatever we suggest…" Sheppard trailed off. He grabbed Carson's arm, propelling him out of the isolation room and into the hallway. Once there, he finally continued. "We're going to have to kill him—no matter which way we look at it, whatever we do. He can't stay. God only knows how long Rodney can stay alive in there the way he is…"

Carson froze, his eyes wide. "I can't... You... No, please don't make me..." He took a deep breath. "Colonel, there has to be a way. We can't just kill him. Not in Rodney's body, no, but there has to be something..."

"What other choice do we have? Think about it. He's not going to leave voluntarily. He doesn't want to die. He'd going to hang in there for as long and as hard as he can." Sheppard wiped a hand across his face. "I…my first priority is getting McKay back."

"Yes, I agree, we have to focus on Rodney, but Colonel... Look, he was already in a device once, right, maybe we can find a way to move him back into something, at least until I can find another alternative." He let John see the pain and fear in his eyes. "Please, I can't kill someone deliberately, lie to him like that."

"I know," Sheppard said, his hand on Carson's shoulder. "I won't ask you to lie to him, but you have to understand the stakes, our priorities." He paused. "Elizabeth agrees."

Carson managed to get to a chair before he collapsed. He put his head in his hands, hating this, hating what they were putting on him. He either found a way to save both men's lives quickly, or they would kill one to save the other. He wanted to cry, to scream about the unfairness of it all, but he couldn't find the words.

Sheppard stayed by his side for another minute before stepping away, his footfalls headed down the hallway.

He couldn't look up, couldn't look at anyone. He was aware that he whimpered slightly, but he couldn't help it. After a few more moments, he pushed himself up, eyes locked on the ground as he headed for his lab. He didn't have much time before Sheppard would have Radek find a more drastic method. He didn't have any time to waste.

xxx