Chapter 7

Rodney couldn't avoid Sheppard as he walked into the mess hall and found him breakfasting with Teyla and Ronon. He'd done everything he could to keep the excuses for his minimal visits to the infirmary coming, but now he'd been officially released, Sheppard was going to be able to hunt him out wherever he tried to hide. He still felt like a failure over what had happened on P5G 598, and facing Sheppard was a reminder of his painful inadequacy where his friend's rescue was concerned.

'Sheppard. Finally escaped from the infirmary, huh?' he quipped, giving him a lopsided smile as he took up the empty seat opposite him.

'Well, she's a hard woman that girlfriend of yours, but I managed to talk her round,' Sheppard fired back at him.

'So...you're all better now, right?'

Sheppard looked at him, a hard, penetrating look that felt far more intense than the question required. 'Why? Would you prefer not to have me around?' he asked.

'No...no, of course not. Why would you think that?'

The colonel shrugged stiffly, his skin evidently still sensitive from the punishment it had taken. 'Oh, I don't know, maybe because I haven't seen you for two days.'

'I...I've been busy...' Rodney explained. Then, more quietly, he added, 'Sorry...I should have made time.'

'Yeah...you should have.'

This felt awkward. He darted his gaze first to Teyla, then to Ronon, noticing their concern, too. It seemed he wasn't the only one who thought Sheppard's comments were uncharacteristically harsh.

'So, what have you found out about that rock?' Sheppard asked, breaking the tense moment. 'Anything useful?'

'Not much...actually,' Rodney confessed, barely able to meet Sheppard's continued scrutiny. 'I've run every test I can think of, so have the geologists, but we don't know how that rock grew up around you as fast as it did, or how you didn't suffocate. It isn't porous enough to let in air, and it was too opaque for the sun to have caused your burns. And there's no way you should have had perforated eardrums that we can figure out. Maybe if you could remember something...'

'You're turning this round on me now? You think your lack of progress is my fault?'

Rodney dropped his spoon into his bowl under the ferocity of Sheppard's glare, unable to eat his breakfast. 'No, of course that's not what I meant. Why would you say something like that?'

The colonel finally turned away, looking toward the window. 'When you say stuff like that, what am I supposed to think? Maybe you should just let the whole thing drop. '

Rodney couldn't believe he'd suggested that after all the work he'd put into that damn rock. He whole subject of what had happened to Sheppard on that planet had become an obsession for him. Now the colonel thought he should simply give up? 'You're kidding, right? I've been working to try to find answers for you for weeks, Sheppard. Aren't you interested in knowing what happened on P5G 598?'

'Not really. It's done...it's over...we just don't go back there and everything'll be fine.'

Rodney's eyes drifted to Teyla, as he wondered if he was the only person sitting at that table who thought that response was odd. The way she now frowned back at him told him he wasn't – something he was greatly relieved about.

'Are you feeling unwell, John?' she asked, her gaze darting about the others as Sheppard's shoulders instantly hunched. 'You seem a little...agitated.'

'My body is covered in tiny patches of raw skin, my ears are still perpetually buzzing, and my head is pretty much teetering on exploding all the time – how am I supposed to feel?' he snapped.

Around them, other diners had obviously picked up on the tone and increasing pitch of Sheppard's voice. The crew at the tables closest to them fell silent as if waiting for the next instalment of a gripping TV drama.

'Perhaps you should speak to Drs Beckett and Keller about this. I'm sure they could find some way to manage your pain,' Teyla offered tentatively.

Her caution was uncustomary when dealing with Sheppard, but apparently well judged when he barked, 'You mean more drugs? Don't you think I've had enough of that crap pumped through my system over the past few weeks?'

Noticing everyone else's interest for the first time, Ronon's lip curled, his glare sharpening as he scanned around them, making their audience snap their heads back around to their own tables and get on with their meals. Rodney decided that sometimes, having the biggest and meanest man on the base as a friend was pretty useful, even if Sheppard himself was giving the Satedan a run for his money on the mean front this morning.

'You know, a couple of Tylenol might just take the edge off things,' Rodney told him, reclaiming his spoon and managing a mouthful of cereals. 'For all of us.'

'I'm sorry if my sickness is uncomfortable for you –' Sheppard began, but Teyla reached over and placed a hand gently on his forearm.

'You are among friends here, John. We understand your...frustration with your situation. But if you are in pain, we only wish to find ways to help you.'

Sheppard stared at her hand as if it was something completely alien and he was contemplating shaking it off in disgust. Rodney looked at it, too, seeing the criss-cross of pink scores across the skin lying beneath it. That had to hurt; he'd burned his hand on a hotplate a couple of weeks ago, the day before all this trouble had kicked off in fact, and it still felt a little tender now. So, maybe he should cut Sheppard some slack. The bad mood wasn't something they were used to, but he'd been a party to one of the weirdest anomalies they'd come across, so he guessed he could forgive him a few tetchy moments.

'Any idea when you'll be back on duty?' Ronon asked, breaking his silence from his slouched position beside the colonel.

Sheppard shrugged, throwing back some coffee. 'Nobody's saying anything. I think I have to pass my test with Dr Smithson first.'

'You're seeing the shrink?' Rodney almost choked over another spoonful of his breakfast. 'How the hell did they manage that?'

Teyla shot him a withering look, and he immediately regretted his outburst. The fact Sheppard was talking to a psychologist was a minor miracle in itself – he didn't need anyone making a joke out of it.

'That's a good thing...right?' he ventured, watching Teyla's poise relax again.

'So I'm told,' Sheppard scoffed, though his bitter tone suggested he doubted the validity of that claim.

'Well anything that helps you to move past this has to help.'

Sheppard's eyes met his, strikingly green in the morning sunlight streaming into the mess hall. 'What will help is everyone forgetting what happened and letting me get back to doing what I do best,' he growled, his grip in his coffee mug so tight that his hand appeared to be trembling.

Rodney's throat dried at the sight of the quivering surface of Sheppard's drink. They'd thought the worst was over for Sheppard once Teyla had made a breakthrough with the wooden toy, in fact, the rate at which he had recovered his senses had been nothing short of miraculous, but now it seemed the colonel was still dealing with things they had no idea about in his usual private way. But trembling? That couldn't be a good sign.

'So, who's heading up the team in my absence?' Sheppard asked, changing the subject completely.

'Lieutenant Andrews,' Teyla replied. 'Major Lorne felt it would be good development for him, but...'

She hesitated, and Sheppard flicked his gaze her way. 'But what?'

'He's not you,' Ronon finished.

'Lucky him,' Rodney heard him mutter, hardly able to believe he'd heard him say that. Sheppard was normally so confident, so positive. Did he really wish he wasn't John Sheppard any more?

'Truth is, although he has military know-how, he doesn't have all the qualities needed to fill your boots,' Rodney added, hoping to give him a boost.

'Such as?'

'Such as...presence. He's kind of quiet compared to you.'

'Thanks for that,' Sheppard smirked, the closest he'd come to a smile for the whole conversation.

'And he's not so hot on the crazy plans to get us out of trouble,' Rodney added. 'I kind of miss the pressure of you coming up with almost impossible schemes and demanding I find a way to make them work.'

Now Sheppard actually managed a laugh. 'You just make them seem that way so when you make them happen you look like an even bigger genius,' he snorted.

'I resent that accusation,' he shot back, but he didn't really. He'd missed the banter of their old friendship over the last three weeks, and it was good to get even a momentary glimpse of it now. 'Of course, it's completely true, but I resent it all the same.'

As he grinned back at Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon's expressions showed they, too, were enjoying the fun. But then a change came over Sheppard's face, his mood darkening in a matter of seconds. 'You're so arrogant,' he growled. 'The universe is vast and old and there are some things you can never hope to understand. Hasn't this experience taught you that?'

Sheppard was the picture of rage, veins bulging, face flushed, hands clenched into tight fists. For a moment, Rodney actually feared for his life until Ronon interceded. 'Give him a break, Sheppard. His been working non-stop on this thing for weeks.'

Sheppard blinked a few times, his colour returning to normal. 'Yeah...I know...Sorry, McKay. I don't know why I said that.'

'Apology accepted,' Rodney squeaked.

Seemingly embarrassed, Sheppard leaned back in his seat, suddenly disinterested in eating. Then he spoke up again, this time unable to meet his friend's eyes. 'But I do stand by what I said. Sometimes, there might be things in the universe we're just not smart enough to understand yet. I think you should drop the tests and just let it go. You've wasted enough time on this wild goose chase.'

'But...but...you got hurt...other people could get hurt...'

'Not if we don't go back there. We lock the address out of the gate and we put the word out to any other civilisations we meet, Wraith excepted, of course.' He flinched, rubbing circles on his temples. 'Look, I'm kinda tired so I'm gonna go take a lie down. See you guys later.'

Rodney watched him go, his jaw hanging open and eyes wide. 'Okay...did anyone else think that was weird?' he asked quietly.

'He has been through much, Rodney. Just give him time,' Teyla urged. 'Now, I have Bantos classes until lunch, so I will see you both later.'

And that left just Ronon.

Rodney looked at the Satedan, who simply stared back at him, his expression inscrutable. Then he spoke. 'You need to keep working on that rock,' he grunted, pushing away from the table and heading out of the mess hall.

Rodney looked around him, the other diners flashing furtive looks his way now Ronon's menace was gone. Much as he hated to admit it, the big guy was right. Sheppard wasn't himself, and in the absence of any other clues to work on, the Satedan's advice was the only course of action open to him.

...oooooo...

He barely felt the floor beneath his feet as he walked – barely felt the thrum of Atlantis' power, which disturbed him even more. People smiled as they passed him in the corridors, but he didn't respond, needing to get away from them all, to have some time alone to...decontaminate. Sheppard reached his quarters and dropped down onto the bed, ordering the room to darken. It seemed hesitant, then followed his instruction, casting the room in shadows as shields covered the windows, shutting out the nurturing sunlight. Being among others was exhausting, their trivial lives an irritation he could do without enduring today.

The relief to his budding migraine was instant and welcome, the heat in his aching brain subsiding and the drumming sensation dropping to an annoying but eminently more bearable nudge from time to time. He sat on the edge of his bed, head bowed, hands clasped, recalling the last time he'd sat in his room like this. Then, he'd been going through a process of change, his DNA converting him into a creature best left to nightmares. He couldn't recall his nightmares any more. He woke each morning feeling certain his sleep had been restless, but not a single image would surface when he wondered what had troubled him. That wasn't like him; he rarely slept deeply enough for his dreams to completely escape him, and it didn't even feel like his dreams were escaping him, more that they were blocking him. That was most likely nonsense, but it was how it felt, all the same.

He thought about his conversation in the mess hall with McKay. Conversation...that was a polite way of putting it. It had been more like a character assassination, and he had no idea where it had come from. He hadn't intended to spend his first breakfast with McKay in three weeks making him feel bad, but he hadn't felt able to stop himself, either. For a moment, he'd felt nothing but contempt and hatred for the man, emotions that had no place in their relationship. That wasn't how he felt about any of his team.

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. That previous occasion when he'd felt the need to encase himself in darkness, he had felt like John Sheppard trapped inside a body that was betraying him, his mind desperately trying to cling on to the shreds of his identity. Now, he looked like himself, but he felt different inside, no longer the old John Sheppard who had claimed residence for forty-two years but someone completely different, someone who didn't belong there now.

You don't belong on Atlantis, and your friends don't want you here.

Oh great, and now the voices wanted a piece of him, too.

'Just get out of my head,' he grumbled to himself, tired of his self-doubt's vocalisations.

We have grown accustomed to our meagre surroundings. We do not wish to leave.

Sheppard's skin prickled at the odd response. Much as his subconscious picked at him at times, it rarely, if ever, answered back.

'Wha...t did you say?'

We have no intention of leaving, John Sheppard. We have waited thousands of years for this chance to avenge ourselves, and we are not about to let it go.

He darted through to his bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, seeing no outward signs of this apparent manifestation. He pulled at his eyes, seeing nothing untoward and experiencing nothing other than the residual blurring his injuries had caused.

'That's it...I'm officially loosing it!' he breathed, seriously taking in his reflection for the worst time in weeks. 'Worthless,' he heard himself whisper.

He stumbled back. He hadn't wanted to say that...didn't even believe it...not really. 'Who are you?' he asked, taking the voice more seriously now.

Our name is of no consequence to you, the voice told him.

'I don't know. I like names, gives me something to yell when I'm cursing you.'

The flash of pain in his head buckled his legs beneath him, sending him down on his knees.

You cursed us well enough without knowing it before.

Memory suddenly rushed in on him; white walls that stretched but would not break, noise, light, the pain of the energy bolts striking his skin, and the voice constantly digging away at his confidence. Now he understood what had happened in that cell, they had worn him down mentally and physically to a point when he could no longer keep them out. Whoever they'd run into on P5G 598 had wanted to get into Atlantis without being detected, so had hitched a ride with him.

'What do you want?' he demanded, wishing the recollections would stop long enough for him to think clearly about this revelation.

To prove you unworthy.

'Unworthy of what? I don't understand.'

You don't need to. You only need to do our bidding.

'Not gonna happen,' he assured them, but his confidence was misplaced, and he soon realised that.

You have no choice in the matter, the voice told him. We now have control of this body and mind, and will use it as we will.

As if to demonstrate that, he felt his temperature begin to rise rapidly, his skin becoming sticky then saturated with sweat in only a matter of minutes.

'Stop...please!' he gasped, trying to crawl into his bedroom where he'd left his earpiece. He needed to call for help, to let others know they had a foothold situation. But his body wouldn't obey him. No matter how much he urged it on, it got no further than the doorway before he lost complete control and crumpled to the floor.

We are Initium, he heard many voices rasp as the edges of his vision began to close in on him. We are the first and we will be the last. Those that challenge us must fall.

Then all was silence.


A/N: Once again, thanks for all the comments and alerts. It's always good to hear what readers think! :D