Spoilers: Because of some similarities, this may contain unintentional 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 Seven
Ronon followed Beckett to an exam bed. He set Teyla on the crisp, white sheets and stepped out of the way. He watched the doctor run the medical scanner over her unresponsive body.
Beckett listened to her heart and lungs, felt her neck and throat with his gloved hands, and checked her eyes with his pen light, which twitched under the lids. Once finished, the doctor discarded his gloves, scribbled some notes on the data pad, and asked the nurse to change Teyla into scrubs. He turned to Ronon and, taking him by the elbow, led him to a bank of chairs lining one wall.
As they sat down, Ronon glanced up in time to see Weir and Sheppard tromp through the infirmary doors.
"Carson, what happened?" Elizabeth asked. She must have caught sight of Teyla before the nurse pulled closed the privacy curtain, because her forehead wrinkled.
"Ronon is about to explain, if you'd like to listen-"
"Oh, you can bet we wanna listen." Sheppard nodded at the doctor and then turned to Ronon. "Okay, Big Guy, tell me, did you get a little... overzealous during training and accidentally knock her out?"
"I told you I wouldn't hurt her. She halted our training. She teased me for being tired but then froze half-way through her sentence. She mumbled Michael's name right before she collapsed. I brought her here."
"She called for Michael?" Sheppard and Weir shared a look. "Why would she do that?"
"You're asking the wrong guy." Ronon studied the colonel's face, catching the tic in his cheek and the lined brow. "I wanted to killed him, remember?"
Weir patted his arm. "In hind sight, I'm glad you didn't. We have much to learn from Michael. She sighed and raked a hand through her dark curls. "I just hope there is an easy explanation for why Teyla called his name."
Sheppard shook his head. "Could she sense Michael from the distance between the gym and his cell?"
"Not likely." Weir turned to Beckett. "The sensors read him as an unidentified life form. Wouldn't his human side dull his psychic ability enough to keep her from sensing him through the force field around his holding cell?"
Beckett frowned. "He is a hybrid species, which might serve to either minimize or heighten his telepathy. I would not underestimate his ability to breach the force field and connect with Teyla."
"If Michael harms her, you won't have to decide what to do with him. I'll wipe him from existence." Ronon clenched his teeth and tried to steady his breathing.
"Ah, I don't think it'll come to that. Let's just see what Teyla says when she wakes up. She is going to wake up, right Doc?" Sheppard asked.
Beckett rubbed a hand over his chin. "Aye, as far as I can tell, she is fine. Her vitals are stable, although her heart rate is up a wee bit, and she appears to be in REM sleep. I will know more when she comes around and I can talk to her. If Michael did contact her..."
Weir cleared her throat. "I'll have Rodney run a diagnostic on the sensors when he is..." Weir turned as McKay slid into the room. "feeling better."
"I heard about Teyla. How is she?" McKay stopped in front of Weir and doubled over, panting.
Beckett hurried to McKay's side and rested a hand on the bent man's shoulder. "She's sleeping, which is what I ordered you to do when I prescribed bed rest in quarters. Would you rather I keep you in the infirmary? Severe dust allergies and concussions compounded by Athosian flu don't vanish without rest, Rodney."
McKay's head snapped up, and twin sets of blue eyes clashed. Beckett won when McKay's eyes rolled up, and he crumpled into a heap on the floor.
"John, help me get him into bed." Beckett and Sheppard grasped McKay by the arms and hauled him to his feet then half-carried, half-dragged him to the bed nearest Teyla.
McKay groaned as Beckett worked him over with the medical scanner.
"Ach, just as I suspected." Beckett flagged one of the medical assistants. "Jane, get him settled then start an IV drip and push fluids." He faced the group. "He's dehydrated, and his fever is a little worse. Bloody fool obviously didn't listen to my instructions. He'll be my guest for the next little while."
As Beckett stepped back, McKay roused, grabbing the doctor's lab coat sleeve. "Carson, I only came to check on Teyla. Let me go back to my own bed... please?" McKay's rough words huffed in and out through the congestion in his chest, but his watery eyes appeared sincere.
"No, son, I'm afraid you've worsened to the point where I need to keep an eye on you. It's scrubs and chicken broth for you, to be sure." Beckett patted McKay's hand and extracted himself from the ill scientist's weak grasp. Turning to the rest of the group, he continued, "Now, will the lot of you please leave my infirmary before you catch what he has." He thumbed over his shoulder at McKay's sweaty face, and the others scurried toward the exit.
"You'll let me know when Teyla awakens." Ronon's words came out more statement than question, his gaze on the closed curtain surrounding her bed.
"Aye, lad, I'll be calling you right after I talk to her." Beckett grinned and shooed him toward the hallway.
A voice called her name, beckoning her into the light. She followed, floating along an amber maze of flesh and bone, trailing her trembling fingers over the damp, pulsing walls. The veined skin surged at her touch, tried to absorb her essence. Tawny light flickered then disappeared as her hand connected with firm warmth. She squinted and tried to bring the world into focus. Beckett's blurry face drifted above her, a specter in a white cape.
"Ah, there's a good lass. Look at me, Teyla." Beckett waived his hand in front of her eyes and smiled wide when she focused on his face.
Teyla shrank back, pinning the doctor with a glare. "Carson, what have you done to me?"
"I've done naught but treat you for a wee fainting spell and exhaustion, I would hazard. Are you feeling well?" Beckett frowned. "You're a bit flushed. Let's have a quick look at you, eh?" He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and attached it to his ears then reached toward her with the flat end.
Teyla pressed back against the pillows and threw up a hand. "How long have I been unconscious?"
"About two hours. I suspect you overtaxed yourself today. What is it about restricted duty and rest my patients don't understand?" Becket shook his head.
"Colonel Sheppard and Ronon are alive?"
"Of course, dear. They were here until just a while ago. I sent them to dinner with a promise to notify them if you awoke." Beckett waved the stethoscope at her. "May I continue?"
"Certainly." Teyla exhaled and took her fear in a firm grip while Beckett listened to her heart. Sheppard and Ronon were alive, Michael and his Atlantis, nothing more than an unpleasant dream. She expelled a deep breath, her focus on relaxing each tense muscle beginning with her toes and working her way up. She had reached safety. Unless Carson lied. She kept her lids low, sneaking glances at the doctor while he ran the Ancient handheld scanner over her body.
After a few moments, Beckett set aside the scanner then scribbled some notes on his data pad. When he finished, he faced her. "As far as I can tell, there's not a thing wrong with you that a few days of rest won't cure. I imagine you were not fully recovered from Ronon's accidental stunner blast before you sparred with him in the gym."
"You are positive that Colonel Sheppard and Ronon live?"
"Are you having trouble with your memory?" Beckett shot her a confused frown. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"I had a rather vivid nightmare." She adjusted the blankets around her lap and shot Beckett a wry grin. "Michael became human and lived on Atlantis. Dr. Weir, Sheppard, Ronon were dead, killed in a Wraith attack. Only you, Rodney, and I still lived." Teyla shook off the memories and clenched her jaw. "He had me convinced of his reality; so authentic that your cologne lingers upon the air--spicy sea."
Beckett patted her hand, his eyes crinkled at the edges. "Now there's a thought. It has been quite some time since a sweet lass noticed my scent. Silly me, I didn't think to bring any cologne to this galaxy."
"Where is Michael?" Teyla asked.
"Still in the holding cell below Atlantis."
"Has he agreed to take the retrovirus?" Teyla grimaced when Beckett's jaw dropped.
"No. Why?"
"Is he well?"
"Yes, during my last medical check, he was meditating. Teyla, I can't help if you won't share with me." Beckett's mouth bore a reproving scowl.
"Meditation? I did not realize that Wraith meditate."
"Yes, well, it is odd to observe. Michael sits for hours, unmoving, eyes closed, his breathing shallow." Beckett shuffled his feet. "Quite unsettling if you ask me."
"Interesting. I shall have to pay him a visit and see this meditation for myself."
"I don't think Colonel Sheppard would approve, and I know Ronon would object." Beckett's lips turned up in a soft smile. "I've not seen our big friend display such emotion until today. You frightened a few years from Ronon's life when you fainted. It didn't help that Colonel Sheppard thought Ronon had injured you during your sparring session." Beckett chuckled. "They'll be glad to see for themselves that you're awake."
"As I will be glad to see them, for my dream felt far too real. I thought them dead and wish to dissuade myself of that notion." She turned at the sound of a low cough.
"Dead?" Sheppard asked from his lazy stance at the foot of her bed, Ronon by his side.
"It is a long story, Colonel; a nightmare better recounted after a bit of distance, if that is acceptable." Teyla lifted one eyebrow and tilted her head to the side, her fiery hair slid forward, grazing her cheek.
Sheppard cleared his throat and, with a glance at Ronon, gave her a casual shrug. "Sure, we can wait."
Ronon stepped forward, hovering, his solemn eyes on hers, before he reached out and tucked the loose hair behind her right ear. His fingers lingered for a heartbeat then his hand dropped. "You okay?"
"I am fine," she said.
"No you're not," Beckett cut in. "You're close to a bought of exhaustion. If you don't get some rest, you'll not get better."
Teyla's face blanched at the dual look of annoyed concern from her two teammates. "While it is true I have not slept well since returning from our last mission, I do not feel I am on the brink of exhaustion. Michael's presence disturbs my slumber."
"You and Michael became close the first time he visited Atlantis," Beckett said. "Perhaps there is a connection between you that caused your dream."
"No." Teyla shot a quelling glance at Ronon. "I have discussed this with Ronon. My concern for Michael is that of compassion for his situation—nothing more."
"By connection, I meant your gift." Beckett held her gaze, his sharp eyes missing nothing. "Have you experienced a connection with Michael again?"
Sheppard shifted, uncrossing his arms. He rested one hand on his holstered 9-mil, the other snaked out and landed in the center of Ronon's chest, halting the Satedan in mid turn. He gave the bigger man a slight negative headshake then let his hand drop to his side. "We'll deal with Michael later."
"No, not since the day we found him in the cabin. I have sensed his presence on Atlantis, nothing more." Teyla shrugged, hoping they wouldn't notice the slight tremor in her voice.
"What happened today did not strike me as a dream. You looked at me, lucid and awake. You spoke to me and then you fell unconscious," Ronon said.
"I do not understand what happened. I do know that what I experienced had to be a dream. How could it be anything else? When I awoke, all returned to normal."
"Michael is using your unconscious state to link with you. He came to you, didn't he? Can't you see that he is trying to manipulate you when you are vulnerable?" Ronon twisted away from Sheppard's grip and darted toward the gap in the curtains. "He will not live to see another meal."
"Ronon," Sheppard shouted after the runner. "Damn it, I told him to wait." With a grimace at Beckett and a shrug at Teyla, he turned and ran after his teammate.
"Well, now that they're gone, why don't you try and rest." Beckett lowered the bed to a more comfortable angle and pulled the blankets up a bit. He patted Teyla's shoulder. "I'll check on you in a few hours."
"Carson..." Teyla dipped her head when the doctor hovered near her elbow and wondered how a grown woman might tell her doctor she is afraid to go to sleep. She inhaled a deep breath and released it again before meeting Beckett's curious gaze. "Never mind. It is nothing, really."
Beckett's scrutiny never wavered. He merely returned her look with calm sincerity. "Ach, of course it is something. If it were nothing, you'd have never mentioned it in the first place. Now, what is it, exactly?"
Teyla shrugged off a sudden chill. "What if I have another dream? The last was overwhelming, intense. I felt lost, unable to control my own life. I do not wish to relive the experience."
"I'll prescribe something to help you sleep. It should keep dreams at bay." Beckett pulled a syringe from his lab coat pocket. "Honestly, I expected you to ask." He grinned as he swabbed her arm and injected the contents. "That should help. Can you feel the effects yet?"
Teyla nodded, or tried to, but her head had its own agenda and rolled to the side. Her world became fuzzy around the edges and the room swayed. Her arms and legs felt heavy, laden, unmovable. She opened her mouth to speak, but her thick tongue would not cooperate.
Beckett grinned. "I'll take that as a yes. Let me finish rounds, and I'll be back to check on you. If you become restless, I will wake you ."
As Teyla watched the doctor disappear from view, she relaxed into the mattress, welcoming the drug's pull toward oblivion.
TBC
