The Descent of Wraith10

Moira nodded. Touched John's hand on her shoulder, turned in her chair to see Carson deleting the files. One by one. Erased. The only existing copies on Moira's data pad now. Encrypted. She relaxed a little. "Thank you, Carson. It's for the best. Trust me on this."

"Moira...could you help me back to bed," John was swaying. Whatever adrenaline had propelled him to her was fading fast. Pain and soreness gnawed at his abdomen, his back.

"John! Help him, Carson!" she exclaimed, jumping to catch him before he fell.

Carson caught his other side and they helped him back to the bed. Carson fretted, re-filling the IV tube, reattaching it to John's arm. Shaking his head. He exchanged a look with Moira. Then left to give them some privacy.

John settled on the bed, seated. Relaxed a little as the drip eased his pain. He watched Moira settle the baby back into sleep with soft words, soft kisses. Assurances. She sat close to him and he took hold of her hand. "Start with Johnny," he instructed, glancing at the stroller.

Moira looked round, but they were quite alone. She scooted closer. Kissed her husband. "John, there is nothing wrong with Johnny. Not a thing. He's a healthy, happy, normal little boy."

"Except?" he prodded, frowning.

"Except he has the double ATA."

John rubbed his brow, remembering. "The doubles turned into the Wraith, right? I remember that. Is my son going to turn into a–"

"No, John. Absolutely not," she assured, her gaze locked with his. "Even if he is exposed to the enzyme he won't. The others were tampered with, genetically altered and mutated in ways we can't even begin to understand, much less attempt. So Johnny will not be in any danger from that. He's completely human. Just with a strong...strong in the Force," she amended softly.

John nodded. Eyed his sleeping son. "Okay, then. He's safe. That's all that matters, Moy. And only four of us know about him. And we will keep it that way." He met her gaze. "And me? I'm not going to turn into a bug again, am I?"

She briefly smiled. "No." She caressed his hand. "Nothing will happen to you, John."

"Okay. So? Tell me, Moy. Just tell me."

"We, um...we don't know. It, it may prove to be nothing."

"The enzyme?" He scratched at his abdomen. "I felt it."

"Yes. It kept you alive. Is healing you even now."

"So it's not the enzyme, is it? And if there are any side effects you will care of that for me, right, baby?"

"Yes, sweetie."

He kissed her. Caressed her cheek. "But there's something else, isn't there, sweetheart? Tell me."

"It may be nothing, John. You, you were exposed to that thing's genome. It's blood mingled with yours. When you were hurt, cut open like a..." She looked away as tears filled her eyes.

"Hey, hey, I'm fine now. All put back together, Moy." He drew her against him. Kissed her brow. "Ssh, sweetheart. I'm fine. Aren't I? Am I still human?"

"Yes. One hundred percent human," she assured, voice muffled against his chest. Her fingers catching on the scrubs. "We, we just don't know. There's something alien in your bloodstream. Carson called it a piggyback gene. Attached in a chemical bonding but dormant so far. He's not sure what it will do, if, if anything. It may metabolize. Your immune system may destroy it once you are stronger. Your ATA may neutralize it. Or, or it might be, be activated...months, even years from now. By anything. We just don't know! We don't know!" she mourned. "But you're fine, John, you're fine otherwise! No one, no one knows except Carson."

John stroked her back, her hair. Taking in her words. Her voice fraught with worry, with love. Sorrow. He considered carefully.

She sat free of him, concerned at his silence. His handsome, pensive face. "John?"

"I'm okay, Moy. Shit. Ah."

"Ah? What?"

"You're thinking of that dream. That vision. Remember? Of course you do. Far in the future starring my mutated self. Changed. You fear this is the beginning of that. The reason. Moira, that may never even happen! Those visions, nightmares, whatever, were induced by a hostile entity. They can't be true. Besides, you said it yourself. This may prove to be nothing."

"Yes, I...just...I..." she floundered.

He kissed her. "No. I'm fine. Carson can monitor me, right? Hey...what about children?"

"What children?"

He smiled. "Children. Our children. When we have another kid. Can this be passed onto him?"

"I...him?" He shrugged. She considered. "No. This piggyback gene can't be, um, passed on."

"You're sure? I'm sure as hell not giving up sex with Moira Sheppard. But if we need to prevent another pregnancy we can–"

"No. It can't be passed on. It's some biochemical thing that doesn't effect your germline or any other chromosomal–"

"Whoa, injured man here. Okay then. Got it. So our sons won't be affected."

"No they...what? Sons now?" She eyed him.

He smiled. "I'm thinking ahead, Moira, that's all. You know. To our squadron."

"Hilarious, John. Get some rest."

"Moy, um...if...if something does, um, happen to me...I mean if I..."

"I'm not leaving you, sweetie, ever. So don't you worry. You are stuck with me and with Johnny. And the whole squadron." He smiled. She smiled. Kissed him. "Now relax, colonel. You'll be fine. We'll all be fine. Nothing touches our little circle."

"Damn right it doesn't," he muttered, relaxing. Mulling over her words as she caressed his arm. Caressed his temples, fingers playing in his hair. Her body pressing close to his. All softness and curves. But not close enough. "Moira, get on top of me, baby."

"Ssh, sweetie. Not yet."

"At least get next to me. I want you. I want to feel every inch of you."

"Ssh, sweetie," she repeated. "Atlantis." She kissed him. Glancing over as the baby started to fuss again. She sighed. "I just get one down and the other one wakes up."

"Huh? Damn. Moy, you need to go down on me and–"

"Ssh!" She kissed him. Playfully ran her fingers along his crotch to make him smile. "Soon enough, colonel. Now go to sleep." She gently stroked. Up and down. Up and down.

"Ah fuck that feels good. Moy...oh baby..."

"Ssh!" She leaned close, kissing him. He caught her hair, drew her gently into another kiss. Another. She giggled, straightened. "Tickles," she whispered about his beard. He grinned. "That's enough, colonel, or you'll have me riding you on the infirmary bed."

"Good. Keep stroking me like that and you'll have to ride me, baby. Ride me hard."

She freed him. Stood. "Rest, sweetie. I need to take care of our son." She moved to the stroller. "Hush darling. Mommy's here. There you go." She lifted him, kissed him. The baby gurgled at her, happy in her arms. Began to prattle.

"Hey, Moy, did he...did he speak Latin or did I just imagine that?"

She turned to him. "He did. That wasn't a dream, John. He did. And you understood him."

"I did? Yeah...I did," he recalled. "What the...is he okay? Captain?"

The baby gurgled, grinned. "Dada! Dada goo!"

"Yes, John, he's fine. Back to normal. Now rest, sweetie. Oh oh...somebody needs a change!"

"I don't think it's me," John quipped, causing Moira to softly laugh.

"No, colonel, it's the captain this time. Here we go, darling."

"Mama! Mama mama goo!" the baby chortled, fussed as she set him in the stroller, wheeled him towards the bathroom. "MAMA!"

"Hush, Johnny! There's no need to shout! I know, just a second here," she chided gently, glancing back at John. He had settled, watching them. Relaxing. "Rest, John," she called. "That's an order. Here we go, darling."

John smiled, watching them disappear into a room. The baby's voice still carrying through the closed door. He laid back, thinking over all the revelations. About his son. About himself. Trying to remember everything they had learned about the Wraith, the double ATA carriers. Everything that had happened. The ship hummed. He could barely hear Moira's voice as she changed the baby's diaper. He closed his eyes wearily, waiting for them to return. But he sat, scratching at the bandage. The itch was increasing. Becoming irritating. He lifted the scrubs to see his waist.

"John! What the bloody hell are you doing?" Carson hastened to him as his patient was tearing at the bandages, removing them.

"It itches like hell, doc! Like before when I was shot and the enzyme healed me."

"I see. Let's take a look then, shall we! Stop! I don't want you infected!" Carson batted the other man's hands away and undid the bandages carefully.

"Carson...Moira told me. Everything."

He paused, meeting John's gaze. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll be monitoring you just in case, but if anything were to happen I believe it would have happened already. Plus I do have some ideas no how to counteract anything that could develop. There. My God..."

"Huh?" John looked down as the doctor was staring. "Oh." John had expected to see scars, stitches. Red, raw wounds and other signs of his grievous injury. Instead there was only a faint scarring along the stitches. The flesh pink, healthy, not raw or wounded. Puckered a little but otherwise fine. "Is that bad?"

"No. That's good. The enzyme must be accelerating your healing. Your immunity as well, I trust. I'll just remove those stitches and I think you can go."

"Go?"

"Yes, back to your cabin to rest. Moira and wee Sheppard have been sleeping here every night and it's not good for either of them. Just take it easy, John. That's an order. I'll get my kit. Lay back and relax." Carson disconnected the IV.

John reclined, looked over as he heard his son giggling. A happy, carefree sound. He heard Moira laughing as well. He smiled. "Make it quick, doc. I don't want my family to see this. Ow!"

"Hold still, then, colonel, would you?" Carson snapped, but smiled at the sounds of merriment as well. Sounds of normalcy. Of mother and child.

Moira finally emerged from the bathroom, baby in her arms. "Sorry about that, John! He needed a change and then he got hungry and then he had a little...oh. John?" She froze, staring at the empty bed. Her heart skipping a beat.

"It's all right, love. I've released him."

"You...you what?" she exclaimed, staring at Carson.

"He's healing. Incredibly fast. The enzyme. I had to remove the stitches before his flesh closed completely over them. He needs to take it easy, however. I sent him to your cabin."

"Oh." She relaxed. "Okay. I'll look after him. Let's go see daddy, Johnny." She set the baby into his stroller, rolled him across the infirmary. Stopped. "Carson...what should I look for?"

Carson considered. "Any personality changes. The enzyme reactions, which you know very well. Any continued lapses in memory. Test him on recent events. I f he's healing this fast his memory should be returning just as rapidly."

"Okay." She hesitated. "Um...if...I mean...he um..." She blushed.

Carson smiled, guessing her question. Her concern. Knowing the effects of the enzyme sometimes included increased appetites, sexual among them. "Yes. Just be gentle with him, Moira. Make sure he doesn't overtax himself."

"Okay, I mean I...Carson!" she flared as the doctor laughed. "Fine! It's not funny!"

"No, I'm sure it isn't funny to John, now is it, Moira?" Carson teased. "Just not too gentle, however. You wouldn't want to waste the energy he has, nor would he."

She rolled her eyes. "Men! Let's go, darling. Men," she muttered under her breath.