[Last chapter for part 3. I hope to sort out part 4 soon; it's a little on the surreal side in places and switches viewpoints a lot, so it needs some serious editing].
Chapter 14.
A cloud of anxious Tok'ra hovered constantly round the infirmary, bothering the nurses, until Dr Frasier had ordered everyone to wait outside, although she'd taken pity on Malek/Darin. They were already sick of hearing the doctors argue over what had happened. They thought that the hormone had been concentrating in just one part of Delek's system, until it triggered the metamorphosis, but it was just speculation, they didn't know. Neither did they know what, exactly, was happening. Both Eleanor and Delek remained unconscious. They had been so for over twenty-four hours. But they were, at least, stable.
Dr Frasier bustled in with some clipcharts.
"All right, bottom line: the metamorphosis is definitely underway. The symbiote has retracted most of its connections with the host, apart from basic autonomic functions. If you look at the MRI, here, you can see the symbiote has curled up on itself and is beginning to re-organise its body plan. We don't know why they've lost consciousness, but neither appears to have suffered any other ill-effects and they're stable for now. It's possible that Delek realised what was happening and did this deliberately, to leave Eleanor in charge whilst he was changing. The Goa'uld would have been struggling to maintain control, which may be why it's different. I'm hoping Eleanor will wake up soon; her brain activity is a little abnormal, but that may be feedback from the symbiote. There's no reason for her to be suffering any ill-effects at this stage."
"And later?" Malek asked, grimly. Dr Frasier took a deep breath.
"Within the next 24 hours, the symbiote will lose its ability to control the host's immune system: shortly after that, we can expect a massive immune reaction to occur. I'm going to shift them to a sterile isolation room and start them on immunosuppressant drugs within the next couple of hours; it'll be much better to try and stop any reaction before it starts." She paused, noting that some of the Tok'ra and other SGC personnel had edged back into the room: notably Jacob/Selmak, Anise/Freya and SG1.
"The metamorphosis itself should take about a week to fully complete," Freya spoke up. "Keeping the host's immune system suppressed is frankly going to be the easy part. At our best estimate, after about five days will come the critical danger point. The symbiote form will be undergoing a lot of radical changes at this point. At this time, it will shed part of its old larval body, and it is likely that some symbiote poison will leak into the host system. We must try and keep her alive until the end of the metamorphosis." Dr Frasier looked like she was about to add something she didn't want to say.
"You should make preparations to bring the spare host here as soon as possible, so we can give her some medication that may ease implantation," she pointed out, "Delek may have to leave Eleanor in a hurry when this is completed, and will be very weak."
"Woh, spare host?" O'Neill blurted out, "What the hell you talking about?" Freya, Dr Frasier and Malek shared a glance. They had agreed that this was the moment when the secrecy ended; but they knew it wouldn't be an easy conversation.
"The host's chances of surviving the metamorphosis stand at less than 8%, without intervention. With the best we could come up with, it's still only around 30%. Delek's are around 90% now."
"What!" O'Neill shouted, "You're killing her to get yourselves a fricking queen?!"
"She knew the risks," Freya was instantly on the defensive, "She insisted on proceeding."
"Yeh, cos she felt she had no choice after she made that offer to the Council. Jacob, I can't believe you let her go through with this! Malek, that's your girlfriend dying in there!"
"We didn't know!" protested Jacob, looking as shocked as the rest of them.
"Quiet!" Malek insisted, as the voices began to reach an indignant crescendo. He took a deep breath. He'd expected this, but he was angry anyway.
"Eleanor already knew how low the odds were before she informed the Council about the metamorphosis. Anise and I both tried to talk her out of it, but it was her choice to make the offer anyway, and it was her choice to go through with this. It was also her insistence that it be kept secret from anyone who had no immediate need to know. I apologise Jacob, Selmak: you were not personally excluded, the whole Council was. She considered it a private matter, and had no wish to argue her decision with anyone."
"Oh for crying out loud, you expect me to believe that she'd put herself through this willingly?"
"Jack, it's her choice," Daniel put in, "And she must have known it would be controversial, which is why she didn't tell anyone."
"We begged her to reconsider," Anise supplied, "And to inform the Council, but she was adamant."
"Yeh right," O'Neill muttered, and Malek's temper finally snapped, despite Darin trying to hold it back. He walked right up to the Colonel, staring him down with fists clenched and jaw working.
"If you cannot believe any good of us," he snarled, eyes flashing dangerously, "Then at least believe me capable of selfishness. That is, as you so needlessly remind me, my mate lying there. Do you not think I did everything I could to talk her out of this?" O'Neill seemed to realise he had gone too far, and looked down, rubbing his hand across his forehead.
"I guess. Look, I'm sorry. Just hate surprises, remember?" Malek made no reply, and consented to let Jacob prudently pull him away, still glowering.
"Right," Dr Frasier decided to take control, "I need to get my patient seen to, so I want this room cleared. Malek, you can stay and give me a hand."
"Of course," he murmured, grateful for her sensitivity.
"Look, Janet," Sam spoke up, "Maybe there's something else we can come up with that might help them. Why don't you give us all the data you have and we can get as many heads on it as possible?"
"Sure. Freya?"
"We will show you what we have," Freya replied, also clearly glad to escape the tension in the room.
The hours, and then the days, crept by mercilessly slowly. Dr Frasier was the only one who initially seemed upbeat about it, and, probably, her assessment was more rational and on-target than that of some of the Tok'ra, who, for once, were having a harder time separating their emotions from their work.
The immunosuppressant treatment had worked better than expected. Neither Dr Stewart nor Delek woke up at all, which was puzzling, but didn't seem to be posing any other problems, as such. Anise thought that Delek, at least, was conscious part of the time, but, being unable to control the host body, there was no way of knowing for sure, or communicating with him. Fortunately, he showed no inclination to instinctively leave his host, as the Goa'uld had; it seemed that this reaction had been more to do with the loss of control than for any other reason. The metamorphosis itself proceeded apace and more or less as predicted. They were beginning to become more optimistic, but there was still that moulting process to get through. Surgery was even mooted as an option to remove the dead tissue without releasing any symbiote poison (or, indeed, leaving tissue lying around to further trigger immune or other problems). However, that was clearly vetoed: it was far too delicate, and the immunocompromised nature of the host made it a risky option in any case.
"Dialysis!" announced Sam triumphantly, as she burst into the infirmary one day.
"What is dialysis?" Malek wanted to know, straightaway.
"A method of purifying the blood by passing it through a sophisticated membrane, in the event of kidney failure," Dr Frasier explained, "But there's nothing wrong with her kidneys."
"There will however be something wrong with her blood if the symbiote poison gets into her system," Sam pointed out, "If we could modify a dialysis machine to remove the symbiote poison, it should get rid of it before it can do any damage."
"Well that's a great idea but I don't know if a dialysis membrane can filter out the poison," Frasier pointed out.
"Even if it can't, we could modify it or design a new type of filter that could do it, I am sure," Freya supplied, excitedly.
"Great, well, let's get to it then."
Day five. The image of the symbiote on the monitor spasmed, contorted, and suddenly a great chunk of it broke away. Seconds later, all hell broke loose; the symbiote went into some sort of fit, then the host had some sort of fit, and went into anaphylactic shock, which should have been nearly impossible given the amount of immunosuppressants she was on. Then she went into cardiac arrest. Dr Frasier and her team fought through the night to keep them both alive, resuscitating them five times in all; the modified dialysis machine worked, but the symbiote poison was so deadly that it did its damage before they could remove it. By the time the sixth day dawned, the host's kidneys had actually failed, the liver was going, and more was on the way out. Malek/Darin sat by the bed in a crashed out despair, their hopes newly crushed, whilst Dr Frasier called a council of war.
"Right," she stated bluntly, "Delek is doing all right. He's completed most of the metamorphosis and is starting to regrow the tendrils that connect him to the host. Dr Stewart, in her current state, is critical. We've got her on full life-support, but I don't know how long it will be enough. It's a race against time. We've done the best we can for her, but she's going to go into multiple organ failure, followed by brain death, within the next twelve hours." She took a deep breath.
"The only thing that can save her now is her symbiote. If Delek is able to re-establish control over the host body within that time, he ought to be able to stop the immune problems, and repair the damage – if he is strong enough. However there's a strong possibility Eleanor will be too ill for him to heal by then, and he will need to find another host. I'm sorry, that's the best I can offer." Nobody knew what to say to that.
"What about her family?" Daniel asked at last, "I mean, her parents and brothers at least signed the non-disclosure agreement, they already know. Can we get them here?"
"She asked that they not be told in the event of the procedure going wrong," Hammond informed them, solemnly, "Not until after the fact. I'm about to ignore her wishes and call them anyway, though I don't know if I can get them here in time."
The hours ticked by. Eleanor continued to steadily deteriorate. All Malek/Darin could do was sit by her and hold her hand, knowing she probably didn't even feel it, and stare at the monitors that showed Delek's slow but steady progress, willing the symbiote to hurry, to save himself, to save his host; to save both of them. Slowly, certain flashing instrument lights turned from red to green, and that was only the warning they had.
"Malek?" came a cracked, flanged voice.
"Delek!" he exclaimed, faint with relief, but still frightened, and pushed the button for help.
"Eleanor…." Delek whispered, staring wildly around the infirmary, as though she were somewhere else, "I cannot reach her…she does not respond."
"She is very sick. Are you re-blended? Can you heal her?" But Delek did not reply for a moment. Frasier and a whole battalion of medics came running in.
"Delek, can you hear me?" she questioned. A pause.
"Yes, I can hear you." His voice was oddly flat. "My host is sick. You must help her. I cannot hear her." Dr Frasier glanced at the monitors.
"Delek, Eleanor is critically ill. She has multiple organ failure and I've done all I can for her. I don't know if you can fix her. Your own stats are still very weak."
"I will fix her. I must. Give me time." His eyes closed again. Malek glanced anxiously at Dr Frasier, who shrugged helplessly.
More waiting. Tok'ra and Tau'ri alike lined the corridor outside the infirmary. Eleanor's condition improved noticeably; but Delek was clearly getting progressively weaker.
"Delek," Anise said at last, avoiding looking at Malek/Darin, "Delek, if you can hear me, I have to recommend that you leave your host now. You will barely have enough to strength to blend with another as it is. I'm sorry but you cannot save her now. Dr Frasier concurs."
"No," came the faintest whisper, "Not yet…more time…" She went out to inform the other Tok'ra.
"I was afraid this would happen," Selmak said, sighing, "Delek has always had a...strong attachment to his hosts."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," O'Neill remarked, although not with his usual accusatory tone. They were all too tired to snipe at each other now.
"When it goes beyond all rational decision then it can be, yes," said Selmak. "Before he blended with Kyen, Delek spent over a month in a holding tank because he'd refused to leave his last host until well after it was too late. He nearly died then. I fear he may take the same risk now."
"But he knows what's at stake," Anise insisted, "And he knows Eleanor would not wish it."
"Falon didn't wish it either," was Selmak's retort.
More hours passed. It was now the eighth day since the metamorphosis had begun. Doggedly, stubbornly, Delek managed to pull Eleanor back from the brink, without killing himself in the process, reversing the organ failure and stabilising her systems enough that she was no longer on life support.
"Perhaps, as a queen, Delek has greater healing abilities, or greater reserves of strength," Freya speculated.
"Perhaps it was all that blue jello," O'Neill suggested, the first joke anybody had cracked in days. Still, though, their condition remained critical, and Dr Frasier was now concerned at the odd EEG readings she was getting from the host: they all feared some delicate brain damage; far harder for a symbiote to heal. At the end of the eighth day, her improvements had levelled off. Perhaps Delek had finally reached his limit. Then, they began to get worse again.
"I don't understand it!" Janet exclaimed, in exhausted frustration, "She was getting better!"
An hour later, they had to make a difficult decision once more.
"Delek." Anise tried, for several seconds, to reach him.
"I'm busy!" came the waspish reply, so characteristically Delek that Darin even smiled a little, painfully. He was trying not to look at the woman standing quietly in the corner of the infirmary. The standby.
"Delek. I have to tell you, your host is worsening again. It is time for you to leave. We have another host here for you."
"I will not abandon my host!" was the angry response.
"You're not. You've fought beyond all reasonable means to save her, but it's not working anymore."
"I think I'll be the judge of that." Delek was clearly not about to give in.
"Delek," Janet tried, "Her lifesigns are deteriorating again, and her brainwaves are all wrong…she suffered several cardiac arrests and what with the oxygen deprivation and symbiote poison…I'm not even sure how much of her is there anymore."
"She is there!"
"Are you sure?" Malek was intent, "Can you sense her?"
"Faintly," Delek admitted.
"Delek," Selmak tried next, "You have to go. She made this choice knowing what might happen. The last thing she would want is for you to die trying to save her, and for all of this to have been for nothing. She will live on, in you."
"What do you know of what she wants?" Delek blazed, as if he had passed out still angry at Selmak, and come to in exactly the same state eight days later, "She wanted none of this. None of it!" He took a deep, pained breath; spoke in more measured tones, but none the less impassioned for it, "She wanted a quiet life. A scholarly position in the university that had opened her mind and cradled her intellect; respected amongst her peers and liked by her students, contributing in some small way to the advance of knowledge. This was the extent of her modest ambitions. A husband, her own children, a circle of friends; the whole, heartfelt sum of her human longings and human desires. She dreamed of other worlds, of other beings, but retained the wisdom to know that she would be happiest if they remained forever imaginary; in books and in her mind.
"Then Baal took her, and everything changed. And because her mind was as keen as her tutors said it was, and because her kindness was greater than even her mother would declare it to be, she came to us, and gave us everything, including her life. She wanted none of this, but she did it anyway. Should I abandon her now, when she needs me most?"
"Nobody's suggesting you abandon her, but if you can't save her, then there's no choice left."
"I must fix what has been broken," Delek insisted.
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, puzzled.
"The Goa'uld."
"But she's gone."
"The damage she has done is not gone, and it is this that imprisons my host. She should have regained consciousness before: that she has not points to some darker and more subtle injury than I at first suspected. The Goa'uld did something to her mind, altered it somehow…something unspeakably malevolent. I knew there was something else…but I could not find it before."
"But you have access to all her memories, including those she has of the Goa'uld, right?" said Daniel. Delek sighed.
"Access, yes; permission, no. We had only begun to process them," he said.
"An error on your part," accused Selmak, but Delek didn't rise to it.
"She needed time. Should I have forced her? More time, for everything she should have had more time, but there was never any time…" he trailed off, muttering.
"Delek," Anise said at last, "We don't understand what you're talking about. All we know is that your host will die, and you will die with her if you don't leave."
"Ah yes," Delek murmured, "My host. The escapist. She who has filled her head with constructed fantasies and imaginings beyond any I have known. The one who escaped the Goa'uld, at what cost you will never know. Imagination breeds fear, it's nightmares as salient as it's dreams. There is a fear still there, in that place that I have not touched, and she knew it would claim her in the end. Still, she did not deny us.
"She is suffering, now, suffering beyond all compare, but not beyond all remembrance, and her own mind is too wounded to defend her. The metamorphosis has awakened the memory of flesh, and it speaks to the torment of her mind. She does not feel me. She is trapped in her memories of the Goa'uld. She experiences nothing, remembers nothing, but the Goa'uld. Should I leave her there? Should I let her die like that? I ask you again: would you have me break our highest creed, and abandon my host, when most she needs me?" An appalled silence filled the room. Freya was actually crying.
"Then save her," Malek said, leaning forward urgently, "Save her, if you can, and if you cannot, then do not let her die so."
"Give me time," said Delek, "As much as you can, and then wait a little longer still. I must go deep within her mind."
"To do what?" Anise asked.
"To find the monster responsible for all this: the Red Queen."
Then his eyes closed again, and silence descended, apart from the steady, slowing blip of the monitors.
[End Part IV].