Return to Sender: Chapter 8
Spoilers: The Gift and The Hive
A/N: Thanks for the patience and reviews for those following the story. This chapter did not want to get written, but I promise updates will be faster. I haven't taken psychology and it has been a while since I had neurobiology, so pardon any technical mistakes.
"They're Athosian," repeated Colonel Sheppard, struggling against the surge of emotions from the previously repressed memory, trying to stay calm. For a moment the voices seemed to be everywhere, surrounding him, taunting him, as he lay battered on the floor, whispering that he'd left Atlantis to her doom, that he was a failure. He fought them as long as he could, built walls, panic slipping in like water through a crack, until he couldn't fend them off. "No," he pleaded, pain, white hot and relentless shooting through his mind. He briefly heard small alarms going off, felt the tension of various leads as his back arched off the bed, then something cool and comforting sped through veins and the voices receded into the background. "I'll have to apologize to Carson again," was his last thought as he slumped into unconsciousness.
Dr. Kate Heightmeyer was glaring at Carson, as he slowly withdrew an empty syringe. "You could have given me a few more minutes. I think I could have talked him through it, gotten a few more details."
"I'm sorry, but all his readings were starting to spike. Trying to remember what has happened to him is devastating him. We're going to have to find another approach. Whatever they did to him, is affecting several of the brain's processing centers, as well as his respiratory and adrenal functions. Trying to remember is quite literally agony. He's finding himself in 'fight or flight' mode, without the appropriate time to recover," explained Carson, more calmly than he felt, gesturing to various monitors, cursors now tracing less dramatic peaks. "I'll have to review what I have in the pharmacy, but its not like I can simply repress a neural-electrical signal," Carson raked a hand through his hair in frustration, then double checked the vitals on Colonel Sheppard, who seemed to be slumbering peacefully again.
"I'll leave you witch doctors to stare at chicken entrails and tea leaves," muttered Rodney ignoring the sudden glares from the medical staff. "I better go check and make Zelenka hasn't crashed the network with the computers he was hooking up. More likely he's got a city wide online poker tournament going," the physicist gruffly pushed past the marines standing guard, with more force than necessary, frustration clearly evident on his face.
"I agree this is complex, but we have to understand what's happened to him. Given his reactions, there's several 'blocks' so to speak, controlling his memory. We need to identify them and remove them if possible. Who knows what else may happen and certainly we owe it to Colonel Sheppard to help him. Stargate Command will most likely not allow him to remain here if they decide he poses a threat." Kate threw up her hands defensively in her best 'we're all on the same side,' gesture. "I'll admit I'm almost as stumped as you with how to solve this, but as uncomfortable as this was for him, regressive hypnosis may be the best option. We at least may have found out who's behind this."
"We need to talk to Tyela," said Dr. Weir, weighing her words carefully, and trying to head off a possible conflict between the two. "I know she has some understanding of her abilities, and she was told that others with her talents were banished and possibly destroyed by the Wraith. Is it possible there were other survivors?"
Carson expression seemed to shift as he switched tangents. "It's always possible there could have been an isolated pocket or two of survivors. If they remained a small, self-contained group, it's likely that they would have a stronger telepathic ability. Population genetics was never my strong suit, but we're talking a founder's effect here. It seems they couldn't read minds, but they could influence thoughts or plant suggestions, as evidenced by the Colonel's actions."
"Why would they collaborate with the Wraith though? That doesn't make sense." Dr. Weir interrupted, feeling like she back in intro bio.
"Stockholm syndrome," mused Kate, also trying to digest Beckett's reasoning. "They were banished from their homes and families. Maybe not in the first or second generation, but there's bound to be some resentment that festered at those actions and lack of understanding. At some point, it's only natural that they'd see their new abilities as a gift from the Wraith, something that set them aside from everyone else. With that in mind, they may even be Wraith worshippers."
"I see," nodded Weir, who couldn't really understand anyone willing entering into an arrangement with the Wraith, despite the few reports she'd heard. It was a bargain with the devil, at best, and she'd been in diplomatic circles long enough to know how those usually ended. She did understand the lure of power and how it could corrupt.
"It does make sense," insisted Kate, snapping Elizabeth out of her own musings. Somehow she'd missed Carson's response. "I think they'd at some point become either grateful or feel singled out because of their talents. How better to repay the Wraith for that than to give them Atlantis or at the least eliminate one of their concerns, although I don't know if the Wraith would reward the second initiative. I think the jumper served two purposes, first to hide their true programming, and second to foster the Colonel's sense of guilt if we didn't find him in time. It's amazing really."
Dr. Weir was a little shocked at her friend's tone and the thoughtful expression on Carson's face. For the moment Colonel John Sheppard had ceased to be a trusted friend and colleague and was relegated to that of a lab rat who'd survived a particularly interesting maze. "He's a strong man," she said simply. "I don't want to think what they did to him to bring him to this point," swinging the colonel's condition from the abstract to the concrete. The Scotsman looked away guiltily for his lapse, but Kate continued to view the man's condition with a clinician's eye, until Dr. Weir met her gaze. "I know this is all fascinating, but as you said a moment ago, we owe it to him."
"I guess this isn't something I can publish," Kate finally said, standing up and getting ready to leave. "Let me know when he wakes up and what help Teyla can provide." The first part of the statement was directed at Carson, the second at Elizabeth.
"The bloody fool keeps finding himself the guinea pig, whether he likes it or not," muttered Carson as the two women left. He was certain back at the SGC, the Colonel's medical records from the Pegasus galaxy rivaled the thickness of several Manhattan phone books.
Dr. Weir did not immediately seek out Teyla and instead made a detour back towards the control room and physics labs. As expected, Rodney was haranguing anyone within earshot, and she was almost afraid to count how many times he used the word 'idiot' or some variation of in the few moments she stood there unnoticed. The physicist must have commandeered every available computer in the city, as well as several coffeepots in his attempt to crack Sheppard's algorithm. "We're slowly making progress," explained Radek hurrying over. "Dr. McKay thinks he has developed several shortcuts and we now have the full self-destruct back. It is simply matter of time before we have the shield and cloak back," he smiled sheepishly at his boss, practically dancing with tension. Elizabeth exchanged a small smile with the Czech. Both would never publicly admit that it appeared Rodney lived for a crisis. Force the Canadian to take a week off and he'd most likely implode or, at the least, start complaining that his genius wasn't being taken advantage of. As her grandmother would say, he'd complain if they told him they were going to use a new rope for his hanging. A friend in jeopardy, however, complicated matters, and from the determined set of his jaw, the Canadian was coping with frustration for two – and she knew who the other was.
"Did those voodoo practitioners come up with anything else?" he snapped, attempting to mask his concern. "Sometimes I really wonder if Carson knows what he's doing, or he's just got the luck of the universe with his guesses."
"No, but I'm off to speak with Teyla. I'm sure some of this session will; be a shock to her, but there may be some way she can help."
"She did say she sensed something earlier, maybe she can connect with him." Rodney rolled his eyes. "Crap, now I'm sounding like one of them."
TBC
A/N: In genetics, founder's effect is the tendency of a gene or set of genes to occur much more frequently than in a larger population over time. This can occur in geographically (Iceland) or culturally isolated groups (Amish).
