- Here Only To Wither -

- Chapter Six -

Voices scrabbled for purchase in her mind, a constant cacophony of sound and sensation, feelings, emotions, thoughts, elemental and urgent. Teyla tried to recoil from them, but they speared into her mind like hooks into a fish, dragging her out from where she tried to hide from what she had become.

You cannot escape this. The other voices flailed at her, clamouring for her attention; this one thrust through the darkness, claiming his right to be heard. What you have been made, you are.

I am Teyla Emmagan of Athos.

Youwere Teyla Emmagan of Athos. Into her mind poured memories of another time, a place she had never known anywhere but deep in the genetic memory of a few strands of her DNA: a community living and working for one purpose - the good of the hive. And the one mind that rose over all, dominated all, ruled all.

Her mind - the mind of the hive.

It revolted her, intoxicated her. She tried to pull away but the hooks of their minds held her fast. They were Wraith without a hive, they needed a Queen. And she needed to escape from here - escape Michael and his plans.

She wanted to retch, but her body no longer had that function. And cold calculation took over, the ruthlessness that Jennifer had seen and misunderstood when they were on New Athos, running for their lives. She was the last of her people - even in this nightmare of a body - and she would survive.

It took less than a moment for them to break out, working in concert under the aegis of her control. The power terrified her, increased her heartbeat for all that she felt no physical flush at the thrill - cold-blooded excitement, for one who no longer felt heat. Their claws picked the restraint buckles undone and they stepped back as she rose, the dead reborn.

She walked through their midst without a word, and felt them follow her up to the surface, up to the sky.

--

There were voices in the air, sounding soft and distant through the cloud of light that hovered around her, above her.

"How is she?" Teyla heard John asking. She couldn't open her eyes to see where she was, but even the sound of his voice, quiet and urgent, was like a hand at her cheek.

Atlantis.

"She was lucky." Dr. Keller sounded tired.

"If you call a bullet in the stomach lucky." That was Rodney, subdued, in spite of his sarcasm.

"Better than a bullet in the heart."

"Thank you for that, Ronon." There was a frown in Jennifer's voice and Teyla wanted to smile. "Okay, so, we got everything out, stitched her up. Physically, she'll mend. What I don't know is how she's going to cope with all this on top of the retrovirus."

"So, she's fully human again? I mean, as much as she ever was? Given that, you know, her Wraith DNA."

"As much as she ever was in body." A sigh. "But in mind... We don't know what was done to her - what happened to her while she was Wraith. And it could interfere with her recovery. Either way, it's not going to be an easy journey back."

"Teyla lasted this long," John said quietly, and his voice seemed closer. "She won't give up."

"Well, she was lucky that the retrovirus only changed her back to human and didn't splinch her like the others."

"She had someone good working on her."

"Yes, well... Better wait until we know if she makes it, Colonel. We're not out of the woods yet."

Teyla wanted to smile at the exchange - at being home, but she was floating somewhere high and to smile would bring her down, down, down to a sea of pain that was waiting for her to fall.

She wasn't ready to fall, so she let herself slip into darkness, comforted by the fact that she was home.

--

When she woke again, her abdomen ached with the soft heat of a pain dulled by medicines and her mouth was dry of saliva.

Teyla opened her eyes slowly, letting her senses rise out of the fog.

The room was lit by dimmed downlights, illuminating the many-sided room with its tall, polished walls. She was propped up against pillows, a cotton infirmary garment loose around her body, a sheet and light blanket over that. There was a stool by her bed, empty now, but with the faint, fading scent of male cologne to suggest that only a little while ago, it had been occupied.

Over by one of the desks, Jennifer looked up from her notes and immediately stood. "Hey there. Welcome back."

"Atlantis."

"Yes, you're back." There was a moment's hesitation. "Teyla? Do you remember me?"

"Jennifer." Her voice felt thick, unused, rough in her throat. "What happened?"

Flashes came back to her then. The wrenching scrape of hyperspace on failing systems; the rough 'feel' of the Asuran code in the flexible fluid of the hiveship. Reports of a ship coming out of hyperspace, nearly on top of them, a breach in the hive...

And now...

Unsteadily, she lifted one hand, pulling the IV drip with her. A human hand with human skin, marked with creases at her knuckles and joints, the nails pale and thin...but longer than she'd ever had them before.

"We've been testing a new version of the retrovirus for some time," Jennifer said. "For you, actually. We knew you were out there...somewhere, we just couldn't find where. And then we got word of a disabled hiveship. We didn't expect it to be you." She touched Teyla's jaw, tilting her head so she could look clearly into her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted," she admitted as Jennifer studied one eye with a small penlight, then switched to the other. Even through the rubber gloves, the doctor's touch was human, gentle. Teyla felt the warmth of gratitude seep through her, the friendship she and Jennifer had been developing before Michael captured her.

"We had you in surgery for nearly eight hours on the Daedelus, so it's not surprising you're tired. Your body has a lot of mending to do, even though the surgery went well. We can only do so much - your body has to do the rest."

"How long...?"

"Two days since we took you off the ship. Oh, since you went missing? Seven months, and two weeks." Jennifer glanced over at the calendar hung on a blank space on the wall and her lips moved in silent counting as she crossed over to pick up a small computer tablet attached to the foot of the bed and began making notations in it. "Yeah. Seven months, two weeks. Does your stomach hurt?"

"Not yet." Teyla hesitated. "There is the nagging sense of an ache, but it does not hurt."

"I'm afraid it will soon enough. Anything else sore, hurt?"

Teyla nearly blurted out that she was human again, and all pain and discomfort was irrelevant when compared with that. Then the door opened to admit John.

He was frowning at something on his hand-held tablet, his attention elsewhere; so Teyla saw him a moment before he realised she was conscious and was witness to the moment of shock that stopped him in his tracks.

His eyes sought hers, met hers, held.

What he saw in her face, she didn't know, but she saw relief and guilt play their way across his features before he reined them back. The smile bloomed on his lips, slow and small - John at his most uncertain. "Hey. Welcome back."

"John."

He looked tired. Older. More weary in the lines around his eyes and the way his mouth rested when the smile faded. But the look in his eyes... Teyla stared at him for a long moment, then realised what she was doing and looked away. That he had been staring right back only gave her a moment's pause before Jennifer spoke, smiling.

"You're just in time, Colonel." She turned back, giving her full attention to Teyla. "If anything hurts now or starts to hurt - sharp or achy - let me know, okay?"

"Nothing other than the wounds."

"Good. We'll keep you on the drip, even though you're out of the immediate danger zone, but I want you in here for a few more days before I release you. And it'll be weeks before you're back to anything approaching normal." The words were serious, but there was a friendly smile in the other woman's eyes as she put the tablet back down in its bedside pouch and came up to squeeze Teyla's hand in a warm, light grip. "I'm glad you're back, Teyla."

She squeezed back. "I am glad to be back, Jennifer."

And glad of the moment Jennifer had inadvertently given her to compose herself before facing the steady gaze of the man who moved forward to stand by her bed as Jennifer moved away.

This time, his gaze trailed across her face before travelling down to her abdomen and the wounds there. Teyla had the sudden hazed memory of him kneeling before her, his hands pressing against her abdomen as she struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

"Are you okay?"

"Jennifer says the surgery went well."

He winced and looked away, putting the hand-tablet he'd been carrying on the bedside table. "Yeah, about that--"

She interrupted before he could say more. "You have already apologised for shooting me." She remembered that, at least.

"Can't hurt to apologise again," he murmured, embarrassed. "I mean, find a friend after six months of searching and then immediately put her in the infirmary... There's probably not enough apology in the Pegasus galaxy for that."

Teyla heard the strain in his voice beneath the lightness. "Perhaps not in Pegasus. But you have the Milky Way galaxy as well."

"Yeah, well..." John lifted his eyes back to her face. "I might need that as well. When you add in that we left you behind, it gets kinda hefty."

He spoke casually, but Teyla knew him. Guilt might not eat at him constantly, but it nibbled around his edges from time to time.

"Will it make you feel better if I extract full payment?"

The arch question lifted his brows. "And how would you plan to do that?"

"Bedridden as I am, be sure I will think of something." Inspiration struck. "I have six months of Earth television on which to catch up."

He snorted as he sat on the stool. "I can get you the discs, Teyla, but I'm not going to watch it with you."

"Then that is not full payment."

"Teyla, I've already seen most of it."

"It will not kill you to see it again."

"Some of it might," John said, a little grumpily. "I'm not watchingGrey's Anatomy with you."

She smiled, enjoying the scowl on his face. "Since I would rather watchDr. Who than Grey's Anatomy, I believe you are safe."

"I don't know about that. I'm getting annoyed with the new companion on Dr. Who. Of course, that could be because she reminds me of Rodney."

His grumpy expression was so comedic, that Teyla began to laugh, then broke off with a gasp of pain. Her injury protested the shaking movement with sudden stabbing pains all through her midriff.

"Doc!" John was off the chair with one hand on her leg and the other on her shoulder. "Doc!"

Jennifer was there in a moment, her hands cool over Teyla's stomach, but while John moved aside, his hand continued to rest on her leg, a light pressure that she only noticed when the pain began to ease, assisted by the pain-killer Jennifer injected into her drip. Concentrating on being able to breathe without pain was exhausting, and although the abdominal agony was fading, but she felt drained just by those few minutes spent trying to hold back the scream that had gathered in her throat.

John was still standing by the bed, as Jennifer glanced behind. When he followed her look and began to move away, Teyla realised that not only John and Jennifer, but Ronon, Rodney, and Colonel Carter were in the room.

"Just for the record," Jennifer was saying wryly, "laughing's probably not a good idea. And you shouldn't have visitors too much longer. Your body will need all its energy to heal." She eyed the others. "Ten minutes max."

"We'll be out soon, Teyla." Colonel Carter smiled faintly at her. "We just wanted to see that you were okay. It's good to have you back."

"It is good to be back," she managed, a little breathlessly. "Although, next time, I would prefer not to have the injury at all."

"Yes, well, you'll have to blame Sheppard for that," said Rodney, shooting John a glare. "Seeing as he decided he wanted a matched set for his team."

Puzzled looks were cast his way. Rodney rolled his eyes. "He's shot all of us at some stage or another now."

"Those were all accidents!"

"You still shot us!"

"It was a year ago. You could just drop it." John rolled his eyes at Teyla.

"I believe you would be disappointed if he did not bring it up, John," Teyla said, smiling. The heat of pain in her belly was giving way to another warmth as she nestled back against the pillows - the pleasure of seeing them again.

"See?"

"I'm sure I'd survive."

Ronon glanced at her with a familiar look of exasperation at their team-mates' antics, and she smiled back.

John caught the smile and frowned at the amusement of his team-mates. "We're not that bad."

"Yes, you are." Ronon weathered Rodney's glare with a broad grin before turning to Teyla. "You look tired."

"I am tired."

"And I think that's my cue to shoo you all out of here," announced Jennifer. "You can see her later."

"Want us to bring you anything?" Rodney asked. "DVDs, books, the head of John the Baptist on a platter?"

Teyla smiled, appreciating the gesture, although she could feel the tiredness pulling at her, rolling her under. "Your company would be welcome," she told him. "And the seasonal shows I have missed."

Rodney patted her arm. "Yes, well..." He hummed a little in his throat, then turned away to follow Colonel Carter.

A grip of the arm and a press of forehead to forehead was Ronon's farewell, a gratefulness for her return that needed no words.

John stayed for a moment more, waving to indicate that he would be with the others shortly. "Hey, I know you're tired, but I just wanted to say..." He hesitated. "I'm sorry."

It wasn't what he'd meant to say. Teyla could tell that. But she could not quite hold back a smile as she murmured, "Do not apologise again, or I will have to kick your ass, John."

"You'd have to get out of bed to do that."

"Yes," she agreed, looking up into the angles and lines of his face, and wondering what he would do if she brushed her fingers over his cheek. But this was not a dream, nor did she think it was one, and she was quite fully in control of her actions. He would not welcome the contact. "I would."

"We missed you," John said as she looked away.

Then, to her surprise, his hand groped for hers in the sheets, fingers were warm against her palm. And although the contact was slight; from John, it said as much than shouted words.

Teyla closed her eyes against the sudden ache of tears. "I missed you, too."

- tbc -