Stargate: Atlantis; The Alternate First Season

By WeaverOfDreams777

Rating: PG-PG13

Genre:Action/Adventure

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate:SG1 or Stargate:Atlantis.

Warning: This story is not meant to fit the storyline set forth by the producers of Stargate. It is AU, Alternate Universe. If you don't like that, don't review. You don't have to read it.

In the premier episode of Stargate:Atlantis, the Atlantis team awakened the Wraith. Major John Sheppard feared he may have made a mistake when he tried to rescue the captives the Wraith had taken. When he killed the blue witchy Wraith chick, he awakened the rest, and made it look rather like the beehive of doom. Two or three Wraith tried to follow him through the stargate into Atlantis, but to put it nicely, they were unsuccessful.

Chapter two: Revelations

Sheppard was killing him, and he knew it. Yet Jerhun didn't struggle at all. It didn't matter that his lips had turned blue and it didn't matter that he was fast losing consciousness, all Sheppard could think of was 'kill the damn Wraith-spawn!' Two of his men pulled the major off of the unconscious Ancient. Jerhun was barely breathing, and the men were terrified to lose their guide. Jerhun didn't look like a Wraith, yet they'd seen him a few minutes ago when he'd looked like one. They knew from the past three days that Jerhun didn't actually mean anyone any harm, and though he was part Wraith, as they knew now, they got the feeling he leaned a little more toward the Ancient side of the family.

One of the men knelt,putting Jerhun's chest over his knee, and slammed his fist between those slender shoulders. Jerhun coughed and started breathing more normally. Sheppard looked venomously at Jerhun. The deceitful little wretch! How could a Wraith have slipped past his notice? Aiden touched Sheppard's shoulder.

"Hey, it's not Jerhun's fault that he was born part Wraith. Just as it's not your fault that the Wraith killed the colonel. Get over it."

"I have nothing to get over, Aiden. Wraith are not good people, in case you didn't notice." Sheppard growled, digging through his pocket.

He hadn't thought he'd need this when Weir had insisted upon it, but then again, he hadn't known that Jerhun was a Wraith at the time either.

Jerhun was beginning to wake. Sheppard pinned him down and drugged him, not caring that it would make him ill.

Weir heard soft whimpering in the night, and her mothering instincts kicked in. She followed the sound to near the unpowered stargate. She looked behind the giant metal ring. Jerhun was curled up on the floor, shaking like a leaf. She turned on a flashlight and looked at the young Ancient physician. The luster had gone out of those bright eyes, they seemed so blank, dull, and lifeless, and they didn't react at all to the light.

She laid her hand against his forehead. It was hot, hotter than she'd ever known anyone's skin could be.

"You're burning up..." she murmured.

"He has been much the same since John and Aiden brought him back." Teyla said. "He cannot handle the drugs you give him, he is too sensetive, too fragile. He will die."

"No," Weir said firmly, "No. He will not die."

She lifted him from the floor and carried him to her quarters. She would take care of him, she would save him, somehow. She woke Beckett, and enlisted his aid. It became more and more obvious that Jerhun was delirious. His light blue robes were damp with sweat, his fingers twitched uncontrolably. She looked at the data she'd collected in the past two days about this creature. His body temperature usually hovered around 90 degrees farenheit, and now it was close to 110. None of the data matched, not even his heartbeat or breathing.

His breathing was as shakey as his body, his heartbeat 30 beats per minute too fast. He tried to move and she held him still, listening to him moan. Dr. Beckett reached into his bag for a cold compress, and laid it on Jerhun's chest after activating it. They needed to bring his temperature down, and they couldn't give him any of the medicines they had on hand, because if Teyla was right, they would kill him, or at least make it much worse. Weir paged Sheppard.

John Sheppard entered the room looking a little foggy. He saw Jerhun and turned to leave. Weir left the trembling Ancient to seize Sheppard's sleeve.

"John, you have to hold him down for Beckett. He needs to examine Jerhun and he's too sick to understand when I tell him to be still. He's too strong for me."

"So?"

"So? Major, what has gotten into you? Earlier this morning you were rebuking me for not caring about him, and now you don't care either?"

"The kid is part wraith, Dr. Weir. I don't think he's worth saving. It's the drugs, you and I both know it."

"I didn't give him anything today, and yesterday he didn't get a big enough dose to do this much damage."

"No, but I gave him the drugs you made me take with me on our mission when I found out he was a Wraith."

"Sheppard, he is running a fever so high it will bake his brain. It won't nessecarilly kill him, and if it doesn't he'll be a vegetable. Now help us bring this fever down."

Sheppard grudgingly helped Weir hold down Jerhun while Beckett tried to bring down the Ancient's temperature with cold compresses. He suddenly noticed the blankness of Jerhun's eyes.

"Weir, what's with the dead look he's giving me?" Sheppard asked.

"He's blind."

Sheppard's blood ran cold for a moment. He'd blinded this mere child, this young Ancient, who had his whole life ahead of him. Sheppard's throat tightened as he realized the magnitude of what he'd done. Only three days ago, he'd been trying to befriend Jerhun, and now, he'd as good as killed him. If that wasn't betrayal, he didn't know what was. Jerhun didn't even really know why Major Sheppard had choked him. Jerhun stopped moving under his grasp. The slender Ancient was limp and still, his eyes closed. Sheppard looked for any sign of life, yelling for Beckett to come. Beckett raced over, searching for a pulse. He found one, and forced unconscious Jerhun to breathe.

"Don't you dare die on me, you'll cause an intergalactic incident!" Weir hissed at the motionless form before her.

Beckett pressed a cold compress to the side of Jerhun's neck, trying to cool the blood headed for his brain. His temperature had come down a few degrees, that was good news, but he seemed to be getting worse. Beckett turned to Sheppard.

"Those drugs, were they the oral or injected ones?"

"Oral, I think. You mean he had to swallow them, right?"

"Exactly."

Beckett tried hard to bring Jerhun around.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to wake him. I'm hoping I can make him vomit."

"What? Why? I'm not cleaning up Ancient puke."

"You'll be burying him otherwise, Major. That or Beckett'll have to try to pump out his stomach, which we really don't want to do." Weir interjected.

Jerhun's eyelashes fluttered and he blinked listlessly. Beckett immediatly pulled him face down over his knees and stuck his finger down Jerhun's throat. Jerhun started gagging, then retching. It wasn't long before the seriously ill Ancient was vomiting uncontrolably, and Beckett was still making him gag. Jerhun squirmed, trying to get his finger out of his mouth, but unable to free himself from Sheppard's grasp. He was too out of it to even think about biting Beckett's finger. Jerhun gagged all he could gag, and when Beckett could get nothing more than clear fluid out of him, he stopped inducing the vomiting. Jerhun shook spasmicly in his arms, trying so hard to please, but too sick to understand. He was so cold, the ice had brought his temperature down alright, but now he was hypothermic.

Three hours later, Weir, Beckett, and Sheppard had still not been able to regulate Jerhun's temperature. They put the ice on him and he became hypothermic, they took it away, and the fever came back. The cycles of hot and cold were wearing Jerhun out, he could barely stay conscious. Beckett drew blood from him to anylize. Jerhun seemed so strangely weak and pale, so exhausted. He lost consciousness and they didn't try to wake him. Perhaps it was better for him to be out of it, when he was fading so fast.

Gonfalon entered the room. He looked gravely at Jerhun and Beckett, then back at Weir and Sheppard.

"I see that you humans could not be trusted with our young rising star. I am dissappointed. Perhaps I will be able to save him, perhaps not. Still, the fact remains that you are not good stewards of the things entrusted to your care, and I cannot leave him with you again." Gonfalon said sorrowfully.

Weir's heart sank, and she felt oh-so guilty. Jerhun was a limp bundle in Gonfalon's arms, hanging as limp as a bedsheet.

For days, Jerhun hung between death and life, sometimes briefly conscious. Sheppard had plenty of time to rethink his judgement of the Ancient/Wraith hybrid. Gonfalon carried on in his grave manner, watching over the younger Jerhun as though it were his son. Jerhun slowly recovered, relieving the Atlantis Team's anxiety about the possible galactic incident that could have arisen. Gonfalon was perfectly serious about staying as well, which meant a slightly scarey Ancient haunted their steps.

He was lecturing Weir one day on the value of the Wrait/Ancient hybrid.

"You'd best not take the one we've lent you for granted. Only four of his kind came out of stasis alive, and the other three are all female. Kill him, and the others are worthless." Gonfalon said.

Weir was a little dubious.

"You're not breeding them are you? I mean, you're very wise and all, but Jerhun is sentient, he thinks for himself."

"No, we're not breeding them! How barbaric! We do want to encourage him to like one of them and continue the species."

"We had animals on earth that were a cross within the same genus, but they were sterile, how do you know that's not true of Jerhun and the three girls?"

"Our old records show otherwise."

"But why would you want to have more of them? Aren't the Wraith your enemies?"

"Yes, but it was not always so."

Gonfalon seemed to get a faraway look in his grey eyes, as if remembering something long ago. Weir looked at him curiously, wondering what the Ancient was remembering. Once the Wraith were not so unlike us...

Jerhun laughed as Aiden went flying over him. Aiden and he were mockfighting on a soft mat, neither of them was going to get hurt, but Jerhun was tremendously entertained. Whatever moves Aiden tried on him, he locked away in his memory, and used on Aiden in return. Aiden was getting frustrated, Sheppard was snickering in a corner, and several other members of the team were watching in great amusement too. Jerhun's long fingers tauntingly mussed Aiden's hair at arm's length, as he ducked away from another haymaker blow.

"Aiden! He's just learning your fighting style and matching it. You're not going to get anywhere with him." Sheppard laughed.

"Fine, then you fight him, Major. I warn you though, he's not blind anymore!" Aiden shot back.

"I might debate that." Gonfalon muttered. "I think he feels you coming, or he reads it in your head."

"Nah, I think we'd know if he were in there." Sheppard said lightly.

"Really? He doesn't have to let you know that he's reading it, Major. He only really does it as a courtesy."

"You mean he's reading my mind the whole time I'm fighting him? I don't think I like that." Aiden piped up.

"He's only reading certain thoughts. Just the ones pertaining to the fight." Gonfalon said.

"Prove it." Aiden challenged.

"Very well, go at him now."

Jerhun whirled, looking around like he was lost, reaching out to find Aiden's solid body. The tips of his pointed ears twitched as he tried to focus on the sound Aiden's feet made on the mat. Aiden's eyebrows shot up. He grabbed Jerhun and pinned him down on the mat, wondering if he was really blind or it was just something Gonfalon had done, like a parlor trick. Gonfalon smirked unbearably.

"I blocked you Jerhun, you should know better than to cheat when fighting with friends." Gonfalon said. "Guess who has you?"

"Major Sheppard?" Jerhun guessed.

"No, it's Aiden. John weighs more than me." Aiden said, letting Jerhun up.

Jerhun looked shamed. Sheppard was floored, his conscience pricking at him abominably. So Jerhun was permanately blind? He couldn't see at all? How else could he have mistaken Aiden for you? Jerhun had been hiding his blindness, relying on other senses and abilities to keep up the deception, it made sense, Sheppard knew he would do his best to hide a disability such as that in the same situation. That was the most damning revelation he'd had in years. Jerhun was much like him, just as he'd said before. You are one of my kind, Major John Sheppard.