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. I personally feel that Stargate:Atlantis went down the toilet because the writers did not put forth the nessecary effort. The show is not new and different, it is merely a remake of SG1, and they need new writers and new storylines. The Melodrama is killing me.

Chapter Seven: Dance of the Stars

When Sheppard woke up, his head throbbed, he felt nauseous, and his chest ached dully. Beckett was standing over him, and he was slowly realizing that he was in the infirmary. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten there, or even how he'd been injured.

"Beckett?" he murmured. "What the hell happened to me?"

"You don't remember, sir?" Beckett said in surprise.

"No... Should I?" Sheppard asked, already confused.

"Captain Crawford rescued you and your party from the Wraith. He said one of them was going to eat you, but it couldn't get past Jerhun, and it didn't like the taste of Jerhun," Beckett said. "He saved your life in a way, I guess."

"Sure sounds like it. So why am I here?"

"Well, you have a grade two concussion, and you had a collapsed lung."

"That explains why my head is swimming...." Sheppard sighed, his hands going to his forehead. "Where's Jerhun? Tinkering on a ZPM?"

At this, Beckett's face fell. Sheppard felt a shiver of dread go down his spine.

"He's not... dead, is he?" Sheppard whispered.

Beckett shook his head.

"No, but his head wasn't as hard as yours was. He has a grade three concussion, and we don't know if he'll ever wake up. He also didn't fare as well as you on the trip back. The Wraith were firing at the Puddle Jumper, and the pilot had to use evasive manuvers. You're heavier than Jerhun, and you landed on him."

"Where is he?"

Beckett motioned across the room to a rather well bandaged figure. Tsuki Yamagata was standing beside him, checking his pulse.

Sheppard closed his eyes to block out the image. Jerhun could not be lying there unconscious, he simply couldn't be. They needed him healthy, there were so many things that only he could fix if something went wrong.

"Beckett, please tell me that's not really Jerhun."

"I would if I could, Major."

"How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad. You showed signs of consciousness as soon as they brought you here, he hasn't shown any signs of consciousness, and it's been three days."

"No, I mean what's wrong with him? Other than the concussion?"

"Well, your rock head smashed his cheekbone and fractured his jaw, and somehow you broke some of his ribs in addition to that. He had a punctured lung."

Sheppard blanched, remembering that Jerhun couldn't be given drugs.

"Maybe he's still out because you couldn't drug him?"

"Actually, we got lucky, we found some that he didn't react so severely to. He ran a low fever for a day, but he's been fine since, relatively speaking."

Sheppard sighed in defeat.

"What are his chances?"

"Not great. But he could pull through, I think he will. HCSC Carlson thinks so too."

"I don't remember that name, sorry." Sheppard said quietly

"He came with the reinforcements, kind of a package deal with the S.E.A.L.s. He's basicly a physician."

Sheppard nodded absently, having tired rather quickly.

"You'd best rest, sir." Beckett said, noting the Major's fatigue.

Sheppard lay back in the pillows, and was soon sound asleep.

Three days later, Sheppard was out of the infirmary, though still suffering from occaisional bouts of nausea and dizziness. Jerhun was still unconscious. His condition was cause for worry, they needed him. Although the fact that they couldn't give him pain killers was a rather daunting thought, they wanted him awake. They got their wish the following morning, when Jerhun awoke, his eyes brilliant with pain. He looked directly at Beckett, and Beckett could hear his questions in his head. Beckett started breathing hard, he had no answers for Jerhun. Much as Weir wanted Jerhun to be awake and talking, Beckett couldn't imagine having him fully awake under these circumstances.

Jerhun was quiet and groggy when Sheppard came to visit him.

Jerhun actually followed Sheppard with his eyes, something he hadn't done in a while.

"Hey. I figured you'd be bored if you had nothing to tinker with, so here are some old circut boards from the consoles up front. Weir has put all gate travel on indefinite hold because you can't monitor it, so we're not using the consoles. She said we could bring you some circut boards to tinker with." Sheppard said softly.

Jerhun reached out to touch the circut board, as if unsure it were real. Then he reached for Sheppard's hand, wanting to assure himself that it was in fact the major who sat beside him.

'Thank you, Major Sheppard.' Sheppard could hear it in his head.

Sheppard tried not to think about how tired, weak, and worn Jerhun looked.

'Major, you look tired.' Jerhun said, waiting for the statement to sink in.

Understanding dawned on Sheppard.

'You can see again?' Sheppard thought.

'Your rock head must have done me some good.' said Jerhun, a smile beginning to turn up the corners of his mouth.

Sheppard didn't know what to think or say. For Jerhun to have regained his sight in the seven days he'd been unconscious, that was a miracle within a miracle, for it was a miracle that he was even awake.

"B-beckett! Come here!" Sheppard exclaimed.

Jerhun winced, inhaling sharply, as the loudness of Sheppard's voice drove a lance of pain through his temples. Inhaling sharply like that made his ribs hurt, and quite honestly he was a mess. He just stayed very still for a moment, holding his breath. He slowly let his breath out as Sheppard realized what was going on.

"Please, don't yell like that." Jerhun asked quietly.

At first Sheppard thought he was clenching his teeth because of pain, but then he remembered that Jerhun really had no choice in the matter. Sheppard felt foolish for having thoughtlessly caused Jerhun pain.

Sheppard quickly and quietly related the good news to Beckett, sparing Jerhun the trouble.

"Lord! Who would have thought that a blow to the head could cure him?" Beckett mused. He rested his hand on Jerhun's head.

Jerhun closed his eyes under the cool weight of Beckett's touch, letting it soothe his headache. He whispered something in another language, piqueing Beckett's curiousity.

"What did you say?" asked Beckett, his heavy scotch accent softened as he tried not to aggravate Jerhun's headache.

"You have healing fingers, Doctor Beckett." Jerhun sighed. "Your hands are cold."

Sheppard sat silently, considering the remark. Cold objects often did soothe pain, maybe there was something to it. Beckett was slightly taken aback.

"Well, you know what they say, Doc, cold hands, warm heart." Sheppard said.

Jerhun smiled, his eyes still closed.

"There may be something to that, Major Sheppard. You should look into it."

Sheppard got the gentle hint in Beckett's face, understanding that Jerhun was tired and would probably fall asleep any minute. He left the room, turning the latest developments over in his mind.

Jerhun was trying to get up by the following morning, though very unsteady because of his injuries. He was able to make it to the gate room with Beckett's help, much to Weir's astonishment. One of the technicians quickly pulled a chair over to the wavering hybrid, not wanting him to fall. Technicians gathered around him, all relieved that their 'Patron Saint', as they called him, was recovered enough to rejoin the clan. Weir smiled from across the room as it became clear that Jerhun could actually see the people clustered around him.

"Alright, break it up. Gentlemen, I am sure we are glad to have Jerhun back, but we have work to do, back to your posts!" Weir finally ordered. She shoved Jerhun's computer chair from behind, steering him toward a console. Jerhun immediately fell to the task at hand.

"It's good to have you back, Jerhun." Weir said softly, kissing the top of his head.

The gate powered up and the PJ1 glided through it, with the S.E.A.L.s and Gonfalon on board. Jerhun started plugging away at some security codes, opening the gate on the other side. If the time delay was just right, the gate would only be open long enough for the PJ1 to pass through it. In this way, the gate could be left 'open' for a while, but would really only be open to the PJ1. Even if the time delay wasn't just right, the PJ1 would get through, it just wouldn't have its backside covered. Dr. Zilenka called to Jerhun.

"The puddle jumper two, would you like to work on it? We need help to repair the damage."

Jerhun looked to Weir, who granted permission. Beckett and Sheppard went with him.

Jerhun reveled in the fact that he could see the circuts in front of him. He pulled out the damaged boards, considering their pathways and capacitors.

"Dr. Zilenka, I have spare circut boards like these, they should work until we fix or replace these." Jerhun said. "The circut boards I have are just further miniaturized. The Ancients foresaw this possibility and tried to make the boards almost universal. Only the Stargate boards are different."

Zilenka seemed surprised.

"Very well, I will have someone go get your box."

Jerhun smiled inwardly.

"You'd best send two people, the box is heavy."

Zilenka raised an eyebrow, but did as he said.

Jerhun waited until Zilenka turned around, then turned to Sheppard.

"I would get it myself, but I can't right now. The box weighs more than these techies want to lug, about eighty pounds."

Sheppard snorted, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, best send the S.E.A.L.s after that box!" he chuckled.

Beckett grinned. Zilenka turned around to see what was going on, and they all tried to look innocent.

Beckett and Sheppard were both thinking, 'you don't see us laughing', and Jerhun was thinking along the same lines. Which meant that Zilenka really didn't see them laughing, since Sheppard and Beckett both had the Ancient gene and Jerhun was, after all, half Ancient. They were snickering, which Zilenka could hear, but for all the snickering, he saw them sitting there perfectly serious.

The box came back and the three set to work unwrapping the boards that were needed. Jerhun told Sheppard where to put them, and Sheppard popped them in. The three kept up a soft banter the whole time, discussing everything from circut boards to girls. Jerhun confessed that he's once loved an Ancient girl, but he had never seen her since he'd awoken from stasis. He described her to Beckett and Sheppard, who in turn told him about the human girls who'd been a big part of their lives. Their light hearted banter was largely ignored by those around them.

When PJ2 was fixed and operational, Jerhun had an idea.

"Why don't we go to the surface to see the stars tonight? Have you ever seen our constellations?"

"No, we haven't seen the stars around here. That sounds like a lot of fun. What do you say, Doctor Beckett?"

"I saw why not surface the whole colony? People are getting claustrophobic down here. And many would welcome the fresh air."

Jerhun thought about it.

"But the way the colony rushed to the surface before scared everyone." said Sheppard.

"There is a way to surface the colony more slowly, and I dare say it's easier on the structures." Jerhun put in. "If I do it right, no one will notice we're moving until we're on the surface."

Sheppard and Beckett turned to him.

"How can we help?" they asked in the same breath.

"Get Dr. Weir out of the gate room. Then I can do it and run. If I leave the force fields up we're impervious to attack."

Beckett and Sheppard rushed off to do it, while Jerhun followed more slowly, trying to keep his balance and not get dizzy or fall. When he got to gate room, it was virtually unmanned. He walked over to a console and punched in a few codes, then flipped a switch, and was done. He left the room slowly and deliberately, feeling the tiny lurch of the city as it lifted off of the ocean bottom. He felt that occaisionally surfacing the city was important for all the humans living there, they were not suited to life under the sea.

"How did it go?" asked a breathless Beckett.

"Fine. We'll be moving at about a 1/2 fathom a minute, which with so far to go, will feel like nothing. I doubt the technicians will give it a thought."

Beckett smiled.

"Where's the Major?" Jerhun asked.

Beckett dissolved into laughter.

"Dr. Weir has him!" he laughed. "He's never going to be able to live this one down!"

"What is she doing to him?" Jerhun asked.

"Beating him with a warm cold compress!"

"That's an oxymoron."

"No, the compress is supposed to be cold, but it's been left out of the freezer too long, so it's warm now."

"And she's beating him with it?"

"Avoiding his head and his ribs of course."

"Ai! Dr. Weir really is a strange woman."

The constellations were beautiful, and it had been a while since anyone had seen the stars. It was almost worth Weir's anger. Weir was actually happy to see the midnight blue sky, she was just worried about being attacked. One of the artists, the wildlife artist, Abigail Winthrop, was leaning over the rail, watching the stars overhead.

"The stars are doing their great dance, and every mouth will sing the glories of my God and King." she whispered to the open night sky.

"Shut up, you religious nut." spat Cavanaugh. "God doesn't exist."

Jerhun frowned, and Gonfalon did likewise.

"How do you know there isn't a God?" Gonfalon asked. "And who are you to mock another's beliefs?"

Cavanaugh snorted.

"You Ancients aren't so advanced after all. You should be at least that enlightened." he said condescendingly.

"If it weren't for the fact that I met God face to face, I might believe you." Jerhun said quietly, gently tossing small stones into the water.

"Met God face to face? How could you have met a being that doesn't exist?" Cavanaugh mocked. "You were in stasis too long."

Jerhun's eyes reflected the starlight in their depths as he looked at Cavanaugh.

"I used to think as you do. Then God stepped in and made Himself very real to me. Have you ever been unconscious for a long period of time, Cavanaugh?"

"Well no, but I don't see..."

"It's frightening. You can hear every word said about you when the doctors are bending over you. All you can see is emptiness, though. But if you look really hard, eventually you see yourself, the way you really are. I did. I was so ugly, I was a Wraith deep down there. I was the very thing I hated and feared. Novel concept, isn't it?"

"Are you a religious freak too?"

"Hardly. I hate religion. No good comes of it."

"Then how can you believe in God?"

"Would you believe that Miss Winthrop has a lovely singing voice? You should hear her sometime."

"You're dodging the subject."

"Was I? Sorry. But I saw God, Mr. Cavanaugh, whether you believe He is real or not, I know for certain He exists. If He didn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Beckett paled.

"I think I know what you're talking about..." he whispered. "When we almost lost you while trying to inflate your lung... Your heart stopped for a bit, I was almost certain you were gone..."

Cavanaugh looked dubiously at Beckett as he continued.

"We were going to use the portable defibrillator, but before we had the paddles on you, McKay yelled 'stop!', your heartbeat was back on the monitor."

"I'm really not sure, all seven of those days blend together. I just know it happened." Jerhun said. "What I'm trying to say, Cavanaugh, is that you should not look down upon the people around you who believe in God. They may actually be wiser than you. Did not one of your own Earth scientists, Blaise Pascal, say that it is better to know God and there be no afterlife, than to disbelieve God and spend eternity in hell?"

Jerhun put an arm around Abigail Winthrop.

"Continue." he prompted.

She looked at him in astonishment.

"Sometimes, quite honestly, you are a most frightening creature, Jerhun." she said, moving away.

Jerhun shrugged an went back to pointing out constellations to Sheppard.

Gonfalon raised an eyebrow, considering Jerhun's actions. And Abigail's actions too. Of all the newcomers, Abigail was dearest to Gonfalon himself, she often reminded him of a young child, and taking her under his wing came naturally. Abigail came over to Gonfalon and stood in his shadow, while the Ancient towered over her four foot, eleven inch frame.

"Don't listen to Cavanaugh, Abigail. He's a blow hard. You are so much better at what you do than he could ever be, and he should not disrespect your faith."

"I know. But what's with Jerhun? Why is he so possessive? I do not belong to him, I wish he'd leave me alone."

"He's possessive? No moreso with you than with anyone else. I daresay he's more possessive with Beckett."

"Really? I guess it's not such a problem then. I just feel like he follows me too much."

Gonfalon laughed.

"No, he doesn't. Unless you're on another planet, and then it's his job. Better he follow you than a Wraith, no?"

Abigail smiled, allowing Gonfalon to pull her against his side in a fatherly embrace.

"Don't worry about it, Abigail. If he does it is with no ill intent, maybe you should talk to him, tell him he's bothering you. I'm certain he would stop, if you asked it of him. Maybe he just plain likes you, you're a brilliant girl, and he seems to like you intellegent girls best."

Weir looked longingly at Gonfalon and Abigail. It had been a long time since anyone had hugged her like that, a long time since anyone had demonstrated a paternal affection to her. She missed it, admittedly. She thought it was beautiful, how Gonfalon seemed to take everyone to him like a father with many children. She admired that he cared about the younger women on the expedition, he was always looking out for them. She watched Gonfalon set Abigail on his knee as he pointed out various constellations and nebulae.

She got an urge to go over and join them. Her feet involuntarilly obeyed this thought, and soon she was at Gonfalon's side.

"May I join in the astronomy lesson?" she asked quietly.

Gonfalon smiled and nodded, patting his other knee.

"I would suppose that is why God gave me two knees, to teach both of you at the same time!"

It made an interesting picture, forty-something Elizabeth Weir on one knee, twenty-something Abigail Winthrop on the other, listening to a lecture given by a being in excess of ten thousand years old. Soon both were leaning back against Gonfalon's chest to get a better view of the sky.

"It's getting rather late, the moons have risen. That means all you beautiful women should go to bed before the moon becomes jealous of your radiance." Gonfalon said, matter-of-factly.

To Gonfalon, as blunt as he could be, women were beautiful, and something to be carefully guarded and protected. He praised them often, which Weir was learning to like. She did not like false praise, but she knew Gonfalon was not trying to be flattering. He just saw the little things that he deemed praiseworthy.